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drowningbydegrees · 3 years

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Something Ordinary - Part 1

This is my Novigrad Exchange gift for @aalizazareth who asked for fluff, road trip, or hurt/comfort, and I figured how about all of them? I hope this delivers!

A huge thank you to @goodheavensgwen for betaing, but also for all the brainstorming and cheerleading along the way. This fic is so much better for having your input. <3

It’s in the same verse as Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures, but it’s not necessary to read that to understand this one. Not, this is largely fluffy and ridiculous, but there’s some canon typical mention of blood and injury.

Read on AO3

Ordinary people don’t… date witchers. Granted, Geralt has been coming to the diner where Jaskier works for the last year and a half, just about. Twenty-one months, but who’s counting? It isn’t a precisely educational experience, but between the pancakes and mediocre coffee he’s come to realize that Jaskier is anything but ordinary.

Geralt had never meant to do anything with that information. If he sometimes goes out of his way to stop in between contracts, it’s no one’s business but his own. It’s just nice to have one place he can go where someone is genuinely happy to see him. And alright, Jaskier is more alluring than he has any right to be. And perhaps Geralt spends his visits wordlessly nursing a cup of coffee just to have an excuse to listen to Jaskier chatter on about nothing in particular a while longer.

Well, he did, anyway. Things are different in the months since they exchanged numbers after Geralt stumbled in half dead after a contract. Jaskier’s conversation demands more participation, his smiles are more intentional. And though Geralt would like to think he put up at least a token resistance over these last few months (in which he has received what he’s sure are more text messages than his entire life before), somehow Jaskier has pulled Geralt right along with him.

The point is, Geralt doesn’t do this. He doesn’t let himself get attached to people. He doesn’t give himself a reason to maybe stay in one place a little more. He definitely doesn’t go for coffee shop dates. The fact that their current circumstances started with an attempt to do exactly that is completely coincidental.

Wednesday

2:15 p.m.

Like many things in Geralt’s life, things go sideways before they even start. They don’t even make it inside the coffee shop before his phone rings, and given the only person who calls him for frivolous reasons is right next to him, it’s probably important. All of which is why Geralt had to cancel and is pulling into the gas station before a six hour trip to Oreton.

He’s still not sure how Jaskier got here, though. It’s a bewildering leap from a coffee date to committing to hours in an enclosed space together, but by the time Geralt wraps his head around that Jaskier is already in the passenger seat.

“I’ll get snacks,” Jaskier offers, already opening the car door. “Do you want anything?”

Geralt motions to a box in the back seat. “I’m good.”

“Are those granola bars?” Jaskier makes a comically disapproving noise, sliding out of his seat. He leans over enough to poke his head back in. “Do you know who thinks granola bars count as road trip snacks? My grandma.”

“What’s wrong with…” Geralt starts, but Jaskier is already gone.

To Jaskier’s credit, he’s emerging from the gas station once more by the time the gas tank is full. Well, Jaskier along with a bag of what looks like more candy than someone could eat in a week and the two cups he’s juggling.

“I promised you coffee! I can’t guarantee it’s good coffee, mind you, but it is coffee,” Jaskier explains before Geralt can ask, circling the car to press a cup into the witcher’s hands.

He doesn’t do this, and supposes he could be mistaken, but Geralt is pretty certain the coffee isn’t actually the operant word in ‘coffee date.’ Still, it’s… it’s something he doesn’t quite know what to do with. Jaskier has always been friendly, but he’s taken up doing all sorts of things as of late that can’t be chalked up to it being his job, and they never seem to leave Geralt any less unmoored than he feels right now, staring at the paper cup aggressively warming the palms of his hands.

“It’s for drinking,” Jaskier prompts, and as silly as it is, the whole thing only gets more absurd. Because the glare Geralt responds with is normally enough to make people shy away, but Jaskier doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be alarmed. He laughs, soft and lilting in a way Geralt never wants to let go of, like there’s nothing strange about any of this. Like the two of them are made for these ordinary things Geralt has never given himself the space to want.

But Jaskier has never been ordinary.

3:07 p.m.

He’s made a terrible miscalculation in this plan, Jaskier privately acknowledges about thirty miles from home. This plan. The one that was definitely an actual plan and not just an impulsive desire to go on an adventure and see Geralt in action. Does it count as a plan if he invents a purpose? Maybe he’ll write a song about it. The subject matter is a little niche, but that’s half the appeal.

The other half of the appeal is the man sitting in the driver’s seat, silently watching the nearly empty highway stretch out in front of them. He’s always pretty, but working third shift Jaskier has never really gotten to see Geralt like this, drenched in sunlight that softens his features and mutes the slight frown that seems to own permanent real estate on his face. It’s haunting, the way it lights up Geralt’s silvery white hair, like some particularly attractive ghost.

Therein lies the miscalculation, because the thing is, Geralt is no different than any other time Jaskier has been around him, which is about as talkative as the pet rock he had when he was six. Normally, that’s fine. Geralt tolerates Jaskier’s chatter at the diner. And since it’s Jaskier’s job, he usually only wanders to Geralt’s table for minutes at a time. But there are no places to wander off to in the passenger seat of Geralt’s car, and he’s barely gotten three words out of the witcher since the gas station.

“So, what are we hunting?” he tries, because it’s the one topic he’s seen loosen Geralt’s tongue. A lot, actually. He doesn’t remember even half of what Geralt tells him, but it’s terribly endearing all the same. Even if it leaves him longing to know more about what else Geralt cares about.

“I am hunting a leshen. You are staying in the car,” Geralt replies without so much as a glance his way. If he notices Jaskier’s exasperated sigh, he gives no indication.

“I… remember you mentioning those, I think,” Jaskier focuses on the leshen because it was very definitely on the list of things Geralt told him about the first night he successfully got the witcher to have anything resembling a conversation. He resolutely ignores all the words Geralt just said around that. If he doesn’t lie and say he’ll stay put, then he won’t be lying when he inevitably does not do that. Sheepishly, he ducks his head. “In my defense, there was kind of a lot going on that night. Maybe tell me again?”

That earns Jaskier a smile, however small and brief it is. It’s a win as far as Jaskier is concerned. Now if he could just wrangle a conversation.

“Tall. Sort of humanoid. Covered in branches.” Geralt says nothing else until Jaskier clears his throat, trying to prompt the witcher to give him something at least. “They have antlers.”

“Very informative,” Jaskier chides, shaking his head. He supposes he should have known better than to assume this would work. “Anything else?”

“They live in the forest.” Jaskier is so surprised to actually get an answer, he almost misses the way the corner of Geralt’s mouth twitches upward. “You know, like noonwraiths.”

Jaskier gasps, holding a hand up to his chest as if in shock. “Was that… I’m sorry. Was that a joke I just heard?”

It’s been a ridiculous joke between them for a while now, but it hits differently this time. It’s always silly, but for the first time it sinks in that it’s theirs. They have A Thing, and it leaves Jaskier all but vibrating to realize because that’s… well, that’s significant. It feels significant at any rate.

“You were serious about the woods though, right?” Jaskier asks once he remembers they were in the middle of a conversation.

“I was serious about the woods.”

Jaskier cocks his head to the side, trying to make sense of that. “Then, how is it an emergency?”

“This one was in someone’s yard,” Geralt clarifies. As much as Jaskier would like to be annoyed by the brevity, he has to admit that that actually more or less clears it up.

Jaskier tries to imagine this tree branch antler person… thing creeping over the fence of some poor, unsuspecting homeowner like a nosy neighbor. It’s a mistake, because Jaskier doesn’t know the shape in which those descriptors fit together, so it’s much more comical than frightening. He tries and fails to stifle an amused huff of laughter, but of course that would be the thing that finally gets Geralt to look at him for a second.

“Sorry, I…” Jaskier pauses, not sure he can actually explain why that’s funny since Geralt has the benefit of knowing how all his sparse descriptors fit together. “So, what are you going to do? Bribe it to go home?”

“Not this time. They’re intelligent, but you can’t reason with them. Most creatures kill because they feel threatened or to survive. Leshens are hostile. Always.” The explanation makes sense. It doesn’t sound like there’s any way around killing the creature, but Jaskier knows he isn’t imagining the sadness clouding Geralt’s features.

He has no idea how someone could possibly meet Geralt, who never takes a life if he can save it, who spends his existence keeping people safe, who has so much compassion for even the most unlovable of things, and think witchers are anything but good. Underneath the caustic disposition he shields himself with, Geralt is kinder than most humans. It makes Jaskier yearn to coax the world into seeing what he does.

Maybe he can. There’s the beginning of an idea, but before Jaskier can follow that thread, he’s distracted by Geralt. More specifically, he’s distracted by Geralt being distracted, something finally luring the witcher’s eyes briefly from the road. So, of course Jaskier turns his head to see what could possibly be so interesting.

“Horses?” Jaskier winces when he realizes he’s asked the question out loud. It’s not really even a question. They were definitely horses, one chestnut and one gray, happily grazing along the fence containing them.

“Witchers used to travel that way,” Geralt murmurs, before Jaskier even asks a question. It’s a good tactic, giving one piece of information to steer away from Jaskier’s pursuit of another. Or it would be if Jaskier wasn’t onto him.

“Yeah. Witchers and everyone else. It’d be pretty inconvenient now though, what with all the… highways and stuff. So, I’m not sure I’m following the significance.” Jaskier watches carefully, but Geralt’s expression betrays nothing. “Unless this is the part where you’re gonna tell me you’re three hundred years old or something.”

Geralt is conspicuously silent. Jaskier has never met someone who can express so much with the various ways he chooses to express nothing. It’s an exasperating quality, but impressive.

“Wait. You’re not actually, are you? I mean, not that that’s a problem, per se. Just that—” Jaskier pauses in the midst of his babbling when he catches Geralt turning his head away just the tiniest bit. It’s not fast enough to hide that Geralt seems to be biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

3:34 p.m.

There’s a lot of farmland out this way, miles of cornfields, sure, but animals too. Jaskier briefly entertains the notion that maybe Geralt grew up on a farm and is homesick or something. He’s a storyteller by nature, after all, and Geralt is such an enigma, surely he can’t be blamed for trying to fill in the gaps. Jaskier curiously watches Geralt when they lapse back into silence. They’re surrounded on both sides by… actually, Jaskier has no idea what those fields are. The only crop he actually recognizes is corn. But whatever it is, if Geralt has any attachment to it, his expression betrays nothing.

Jaskier is about to write his previous observation off as him reading too much into something ultimately unimportant when crops give way to a green, open meadow. It’s the kind of place Jaskier thinks looks about perfect for a picnic or laying out to watch the clouds drift by, or something. It’s also the kind of place where someone keeps a rather striking-looking horse, its coat a shade of gold just a touch warmer than Geralt’s eyes. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

“It’s a palomino,” Geralt replies, though Jaskier doesn’t think he’s actually looked that way. Either Geralt is even more subtle than Jaskier gives him credit for, or something about that merits remembering.

“The breed?” Jaskier presses. This is even more fascinating than coaxing Geralt into talking about monsters. It’s not a subject Jaskier knows a damned thing about either, but it’s an unexpected thing Geralt seems to be interested in, and that all by itself makes it worth pursuing.

“It’s not a breed.” Maybe ‘talking about’ is a little too charitable a description for the handful of words Jaskier gets Geralt to part with at any one time. That’s a puzzle too. Jaskier hasn’t quite sussed out whether Geralt actually doesn’t like talking or if it’s a side effect of the way humans tend to respond to witchers. It’s a shame either way. Jaskier quite likes listening to him.

“Okay…?” Jaskier prods. It’s only afterwards that it occurs to him that if Geralt truly isn’t interested in talking, maybe when the witcher is stuck a foot away from Jaskier and can’t extricate himself from the situation is not the right time to push the matter.

“It’s a color.” After a slight pause, Geralt adds, “Gold coat. White mane and tail.”

There’s more after, not that Jaskier can keep up with most of it. Often, even when Jaskier is actively trying to engage, all he gets from Geralt is a wordless hum or a raised eyebrow. So, the fact that there are a number of words in a row is noteworthy already. That Geralt is continuing to speak without being prompted is nothing short of a miracle. Maybe pushing wasn’t the problem so much as finding the right subject matter.

And thus, a new game is born. Whether out of some sense of dignity or something else, Geralt doesn’t actually mention when they pass by horses. It’s the very slight shift in Geralt’s body language, something Jaskier would probably say was him perking up if it were more explicit, that clues Jaskier in if he doesn’t see them himself. But the minute Jaskier mentions them, Geralt appears all too happy to talk about the precise measurement that differentiates horses and ponies (14.2 hands or less, which then becomes an extended conversation about why horses are measured in hands), the Lippizaner stallion troupe (which Jaskier will admit he would really like to see if they’re even half as impressive as Geralt suggests), and that one breed of wild horses that are maybe possibly completely divergent from domestic horses (Jaskier immediately forgets how to pronounce their name, but he does remember they sort of look like especially stocky donkeys).

“How do you know all this, anyway? I’m starting to think you should have gone to work in a stable or something instead of being a witcher,” Jaskier teases after a particularly emphatic explanation about what an utter failure Redania’s wild horse adoption program is. “I mean, it would definitely be my loss, but…”

He trails off, teasing smile immediately fading as he happens to look over at Geralt. Even when he’s happy, Geralt’s expressions tend to be a bit muted, but there’s no trace of anything like happiness now. His head is subtly bowed, like he’s ashamed of something, and that just won’t do at all. There’s nothing shameful about the details that make up a person. Before Jaskier can ask what exactly dampened the mood, Geralt softly replies, “I was going to.”

“You were?” It might be a mistake. This was meant to be fun. It’s just that Geralt so rarely gives Jaskier anything about himself, and Jaskier so desperately wants to know him. He rationalizes that if he drops the matter, Geralt will think he doesn’t care and won’t ever try again. “What happened?”

“Not important.” The words are clipped, but Jaskier has at least known Geralt long enough to differentiate between the witcher being actually irritated and any of the multitude of other emotions that make him sound irritated. This is definitely one of the latter.

“Of course it’s important if it makes you look like that.” Impulsively, Jaskier reaches out to lay a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. The way Geralt nearly jumps out of his skin is a stark reminder that he’s not quite so instinctively tactile as Jaskier is. Geralt doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t answer either, so Jaskier only lingers briefly before pulling his hand back into his lap.

“I thought everyone was exaggerating about how things would change when they made me into this,” Geralt explains, so quiet that Jaskier has to listen carefully over the engine. It’s an aching, vulnerable thing, as human a confession as Jaskier has ever heard before Geralt’s expression abruptly shutters.

“I’m so sorry… Wait, made you?” Jaskier realizes, not for the first time, that he knows nothing about witchers. Nothing true at any rate.

But whatever strange magic had coaxed Geralt into speaking has passed, and the witcher doesn’t even acknowledge Jaskier has said anything. He longs to know more, to soothe whatever it is that hurts so much, but Jaskier has at least enough sense to realize that if he presses now, Geralt will think twice about telling him anything later. The minutes stretch out between them like taffy, the silence deafening until Jaskier absolutely cannot take it. He impulsively reaches for the radio, turning the dial until the static of a station that’s long since out of range is coming through the speakers. “So… music!”

Geralt’s lips purse in… actually Jaskier isn’t all that familiar with this particular expression yet. His default state is so grumpy, it’s hard to tell this time if he’s annoyed or uncomfortable. Neither one is what he’s going for, so he pointedly does not ask what that station is, immediately setting about adjusting until a melody cuts clearly through the hissing noise. Fic Masterpost

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #the witcher #my fic #Featuring a lot of road trip shenanigans

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fromiftowhen · 3 years

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The Rookie: 3x09 Amber Thoughts/Spoilers

I have… a LOT of thoughts about this episode. Unsurprisingly, the majority of them are Chenford related, but I had a LOT of West and Lopez feels too, so. Here we go. I started to try to get my feelings out, but it just became me copying quotes that I either laughed or had other feelings about, so…

“Grey’s busy, and Smitty’s getting a back tattoo.”

“That’s --”

“Don’t ask.

-- When I say I laughed out loud. Jackson and Smitty’s relationship is one of the best callbacks this show does, and every mention of that ridiculous man is hilarious.

“But it’s super important she doesn’t get shot today.”

“No promises. You ride with me, you ride the rollercoaster.”

-- Nyla Harper is my favorite person. She was excellent in this episode, from the very beginning to the sweet moment at the end (that ending scene did NOT need to be about Nolan, this should have been solely focused on Lucy and Jackson and what they accomplished today, but I can’t say I’m surprised. But Harper made it better.)

Tim tossing the list out the window immediately.

“You know, littering is a $250 fine.”

“Worth it.”

Lucy pulling a backup list right out. They know each other SO well.

-- HILARIOUS. Although I’ll admit my guard was up the moment she pulled that list out and used the word “trickery.” It worked out differently than I thought it would, but… well. We’ll get to that.

“I knew my TO would be important to my career. But I don’t know. I didn’t realize how important you’d be to my life.”

-- I should have been more prepared for the Lopez and West feelings today. Their relationship probably started out the rockiest of all the TO/rookie pairings, and maybe rightfully so… but it’s become the least complicated, the closest to friendship the fastest, and their bond is just really something. Jackson was right - a LOT has happened in their 13 months together (yes, show, I remember exactly how long it’s been -- do you?) and they’ve both grown and changed in such wonderful ways. Angela looked sentimental the whole episode (while still being her badass, hilarious self) and West looked SO relaxed, it was such a lovely bookend to their first days together.

“I wish someone taught me how to be in this one.”

“Oh, so we are in a relationship.”

-- All the references to a relationship were good, if not entirely baity. But Tim’s delivery of that line was amazing and made me laugh out loud. He sounds so long-suffering and very much like an exasperated husband, and it really pinpointed one of the ways they interact that just WORKS so well. It just feels natural, and Eric Winter’s delivery was great.

“Tell me the truth -- Am I gonna poop myself?”

-- This entire conversation was so randomly hilarious (but added levity they all clearly needed then). Harper and Lopez are hilarious together and I truly wish the show gave us more of that.

“Don’t worry -- I will personally stand watch over your kid until you leave the hospital.”

-- Jackson West. I love you.

“I really hope our last shift together doesn’t end with that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

-- EMOTIONS.

Tim distracting her with her list. The man KNOWS her. And him acknowledging that she’s been to hell and back. Again, I say -- EMOTIONS. It was such a good callback to him knowing she needs to focus on work and order and process to remain calm in some situations.

“One look from you could send me into a tailspin.” And one day, it will again -- in an entirely different way, I am SURE. The way they both knew she was referring to Plain Clothes Day was great.

“I dunno. Smitty is surprisingly maternal.”

“That is the most horrifying idea I’ve ever heard, and I want it to be a reality show so bad.”

“Right? I would watch the hell out of that.”

-- Lowkey this was the most hilarious exchange of the night. I would also watch the hell out of that reality show. All these little moments made me miss Lopez and West together so much. Their scene at the end of the episode was lovely. All the times he thanked her. Please still let them interact often. The show NEEDS it.

“We did it.”

“No. You did it.” THE MOST TIM BRADFORD THING I’VE EVER HEARD.

“Office Chen impressed me with every decision she made today. I will miss riding with her.”

The callback to the evaluation in Plain Clothes Day. My heart skipped a beat, honestly. The way that Tim was looking at her in this scene while she read the note was… it was a lot, and apparently too much for me to process currently because that’s the most intelligible thing I’ve got to say about it.

“You don’t let anyone ever tell you you can’t do something. Not even me.”

-- WHILE HE HELD THE HANDSHAKE. This one line tells you all you need to know about Tim Bradford and his RELATIONSHIP with Lucy Chen, honestly. He knows she’s “as tough as they come” and has “been to hell and back” and he knows, even if it scares him, even if it gives him flashbacks to Isabel, that she can do it.

Her gift to him was such a nice callback. For a show that doesn’t seem to track or care about its actual timeline, they’ve done a wonderful job with callbacks especially this season, and especially Tim and Lucy related ones. All the Caleb/Rosalind stuff. All Isabel mentions. Multiple mentions of Plain Clothes Day and their first day riding together, etc.

Every. Single. Time. He has called her Lucy this season, I have had to compose myself, none more than in this episode. I do kind of wish they’d waited until that last moment to have him call her Lucy (to her face, we all know I don’t think the phone call scene from season one, although one of their very best moments, counts)... it might have felt slightly more impactful (although the moment in the season premiere was great in its own way.)

Honestly, it was a little weird for me watching the show tackle their final moments as TO/rookie because I’ve written so many versions of that myself? (And look, I’m not gonna lie, their version gave me feelings, but I liked mine better). I wish that truly lovely garage scene hadn’t come on the heels of that “confession” scene, but it did help make up for it.

You might have noticed that I specifically skipped over that “confession” scene in the shop. As soon as he started talking about lying and UC work, I said “ugh” and then immediately wrote the scene in my head -- down to her laugh, it was that predictable once you got the gist. And I’m going to be honest -- if I had written it, I would have deleted it.

I KNEW going in -- and I think most people will agree -- that this was not going to be a true confession. That we weren’t going to get a Chenford love confession tonight (and please, can we discuss that ‘canon’ and ‘endgame’ are not interchangeable for just a sec.) But the way it happened just felt SUPER ship baity, and using it in the promo even more so. I just felt super pandered to in a ridiculous way that didn’t leave me with the most pleasant feelings about the writers… the garage scene at the end definitely helped, but overall the confession scene left a sour taste.

The thing is -- the things she said? How he saved her? How the reason he’s protective of her is that he might have feelings too? Those are all valid things! And things that, at least in fic, I believe. But watching that scene, me, someone who can read something shippy in the TINIEST glance? I didn’t FEEL those things. I wasn’t nodding along like “yep, yep, that’s all true” -- there wasn’t a moment during that scene where they looked at each other and I thought “yes, this is hitting too close to home for one of them.” Maybe that’s just me. I don’t know.

And I don’t know if that’s because I was too in my feelings about being badly pandered to, or if it just wasn’t there, or what. But… just overall I’m left with a feeling that it was just an entirely unnecessary scene that probably didn’t serve the ship well, just judging by some reactions I’ve seen.

Those feelings though? The ones I wanted to feel in that confession scene? I FELT THOSE, every single one of them, in the parking garage scene at the end.

Every look was perfect. Every pause, the handshake (a hug would have truly saved the confession mess, let's be honest, but can't be picky), the way he looked at her as she read, THAT is the writers do SO perfectly right for Tim and Lucy (and I know the majority of that credit goes to Eric and Melissa, because the moments that are the most impactful are the looks that just can't be entirely scripted.)

Do I still ship them with every fiber of my being? Yes, and nothing the writers do or don’t do will change that. Will I still (eventually again) write a million words about them falling in love how I think they should? Yes. Do I need the show to stick to moments like in the parking garage -- real, honest moments between them? YES. That is what the show gets right about their relationship. If they can just stick to those moments -- and somehow continue them and make them believable even if they’re no longer riding together -- I’ll be happy.

Am I worried about their interactions now that they’re no longer riding together? Yes. Their chemistry is honestly the best thing on this show. Giving less screen time to Lopez and West together has been rough -- not only on the relationships aspect that so much drives the show but on the timing/pacing as well -- and I worry that their best characters/best ship not sharing as much screen time will not help either of these issues.

Maybe they’ll surprise me. I hope -- I think -- they will.

(Random, but things I still need from this season: A Rachel mention? Don't get me wrong, if they want to forget her, I'm cool... but it feels like (even a fake love) confession should have been the right time to be like "I know this is awkward, you're dating my friend..." Come on, show. I don't care about her, but you tried HARD to sell us on her last season, so at least give her a two second mention to update us on what is actually going on. The Lopez-Evers wedding. (Do I think it'll be THE Chenford event most people are hoping for? No. But I'm ready to be proven wrong.) A continuation on Harper's love life. UPDATE ME on my girl.)

#the rookie #chenford #the rookie spoilers #tim bradford #lucy chen #the rookie abc #tucy

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tedesquire · 3 years

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Hi! Could I please add another request to my list? :D it's based off a Hey Arnold episode in which Bill and the reader are on a week long school vacation and they run into each other at the beach and Bill develops a crush on a pretty girl who befriends him but the reader finds out the girl's only using Bill to win a sandcastle contest in order to be on the show Baywatch. The reader tries to tell Bill but he won't listen and he eventually overhears the girl talking with her boyfriend and tells her off only to win the contest with the reader and they confess their feelings? 💕💕

Summer Lovin’

Words: 2554

Warnings: cursing, female pronouns (but no genitalia mentioned and no skin color specified) a bit of angst (fluffy ending though)

Author’s Note: first of all, I fucking love Hey, Arnold! and definitely love Helga G. Pataki with all my heart. She’s a weirdo and I love it. I knew exactly what episode you were talking about. I can't believe you got me to write 13 pages of fanfic for such a specific and niche fandom, but hey, I don’t do this for the fame. I do this for the little bit of serotonin my brain gets when I imagine myself in scenarios with fictional characters because real men are disappointing. (Mod Olivia)

You hated Bill. You hated the stupid way his stupid blonde ringlets caught the California sun, the stupid vacant look in his stupid sapphire eyes at almost all times, the stupid fucking sliver of tan skin he exposed with his crop tops that he somehow got away with at school. Not to mention you loathed the stupid fucking grin that he gave to his best friend Ted, the one that proceeded the ridiculous laugh the stupid boy had.

All these things you despised, detested, and loathed with every fiber of your being. Simple annoyances beginning since kindergarten snowballed into a big, white burning ball of hatred for the boy. Hatred that made your cheeks heat up and stomach churn, just as it was doing now.

You had been so excited for Spring Break, your family deciding to travel 5 and a half hours to a beach house in Half Moon Bay. A week of the sun, sea, shopping, seashells, boardwalks, and salt-water taffy, with no Bill to bother you.

So, naturally, when you had reached the beach after a long day of travel, the sight of Bill sitting on the sand in nothing but a swimsuit, skin glowing with tanning oil, made your heart stutter. Okay, perhaps you didn’t hate him… despise him, detest him, or loathe him entirely. From an outside perspective… some might even say that you were… in love with him.

Oh God, it was true. You couldn't stop thinking about Bill. He looked like he was sculpted after an angel. A prince charming on a white horse. And what he lacked in academic intelligence he more than made up for with kindness. He always treated you with the utmost respect, while you paid him back in nothing but sarcasm and insults.

You didn’t know exactly why you were so mean to him. Perhaps it was your nerves trying to stop you from getting overeager and admitting your crush. One day you were going to have to either man up and confess your feelings or get over him but that day didn’t seem to be approaching anytime soon.

You were intent on pretending he wasn’t here, setting up your own place to sunbathe until you heard your name fall from his lips.

“Y/n!?” Bill walked up behind you, prompting you to turn around to face him. “What are you doing here?”

“Bill.” You stated dryly, “My family and I are staying nearby.”

“No way! My family’s right over there!” He pointed at a nearby beach house, a young woman who you recognized as recently-graduated and newfound wife, Missy Preston making out with Bill’s father on the porch. Ugh.

“Yes way.” You responded dryly. “We’re over there.” You pointed over your shoulder. “Isn’t this a coincidence, my ideal vacation ruined by the one person I didn’t want to see.” You noticed a flicker of disappointment flash in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself even if you tried. “Don’t get any weird ideas about getting all chummy with me, trying to hang out or anything. Just because we’re staying at the same beach and all.” You scoffed, causing him to flinch.

“Uh, yeah. Fine with me, y/n.” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly before walking off. You eyed him, sighing softly.

“What is the matter with me?” You mumble, setting yourself down on the sand. This would have been the perfect moment to get closer to him if only you didn’t have to open your stupid mouth.

[Bill’s POV]

As Bill walked off, he felt most confused. He could never remember what he did to make you dislike him so much, but tried to get back on your good side. Thankfully, with the sun, sand, and waves surrounding him, Bill couldn’t stay too upset for too long.

He had decided to finally get in the water, heading towards the crashing shore when he had stepped on something.

Huh. Bill was met with the sight of a brightly colored bucket and shovel. Excellent! There was nothing more resplendent than a nice sand castle. Ted was going to be so jealous when he heard. All he was doing for the week was staying at home watching Deacon.

Too caught up in his new activity, Bill barely noticed someone approaching him.

“That’s a stellar sandcastle you have there.” Bill’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. Growing up in California he had seen his fair share of tan beach babes, but this one took the cake. A total babe. Talking to me.... Say something, dude!

“Thanks.” Bogus. Thank God Ted wasn’t here to see him blow his shot so odiously.

She pushed her sunglasses down her nose to look over the lenses, her bright eyes meeting his. “My name’s Summer.”

“Bill S. Preston, Esquire.” He puffed up his chest, raking a hand through his hair.

“Well, Bill S. Preston, Esquire, you seem to be a pretty great artist. That’s the best sandcastle I’ve ever seen.” His dark brows knitted in confusion, looking over her to see if she was teasing him. “I bet you’ll walk away with first prize from the sandcastle competition at the festival thing later this week.”

“Sandcastle competition?”

“Yeah! Whoever wins first place will get a guest appearance on Baywatch! But that’s not until the end of the week. How about, in the meantime, you can show me around the beach? It’s my first time visiting the bay.” Baywatch? That’s only the most triumphant show on television! Ted was going to be so jealous.

“Sounds most excellent! However, It is also my first time visiting the bay. Perhaps… we could explore the area together?”

“I like the way you think, Bill.” She winked, sitting on the sand next to him, the pair getting comfortable.

“What the hell?” You mumbled, looking over your book to watch Bill cozying up with a stranger. Your heart twisted painfully, swallowing thickly, You had no right to be jealous, he wasn’t your boyfriend, not to mention you were cruel to him in every interaction, but that didn’t stop a bitter taste from forming on your tongue.

You stood, collecting your things and trekking back to your beach house, the beach having lost its luster.

You were so over this vacation. You would have given anything to stay at home. It seemed everywhere you went, Bill and that girl seemed to be infecting the air with their infatuation.

For the past two days you’ve had to suffer watching the pair on the beach splash each other with sea water, build sand castles, and sunbathe with each other; However, that was nothing compared to today.

You and your family had decided to spend the afternoon on the boardwalk. There you had to endure the couple on the carousel holding hands, feeding each other saltwater taffy, and watching the sunset by the wharf. Most fucking heinous.

It was early evening, and thankfully, Bill and whatever her name was were nowhere to be seen. You didn’t know if you would vomit or cry every time Bill had given her that award-winning smile, the one you so badly wanted to be the recipient of.

You didn’t think it could get any worse, until you had leaned against the pier, ears picking up a familiar voice, Bill’s. Your heart fluttered, only to sink back down when you realized he was still with her under the boardwalk, back on the beach.

“Isn’t this amazing?”

“You are.” You scoffed at Bill’s attempt at flirting, ignoring the tightening of your throat.

“I’m so glad I met you.” She giggled. “I’ve never felt so comfortable with anyone.”

If it had been any other couple, you might have enjoyed such a romantic conversation. This was all your fault, if you hadn’t been such a bitch to Bill on the first day, perhaps it would have been you and him hanging out at the boardwalk.

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here!”

“Excellent!” You heard him scat in that ridiculous, high-pitched way he did with Ted when they mimicked a guitar. As he walked off, you smiled, not noticing you were crying until a tear slid down your cheek.

You were such an idiot. If only you were able to act normal for a fucking minute and effectively communicate with Bill about your feelings. You had fucked up, it was too late.

“Hey!” You had heard her speak again, wondering if Bill had returned.

“Hey, babe.” That was definitely not Bill.

“It’s all going according to plan. I do believe Bill is falling head over heels for me.”

“Well who wouldn’t?” You rolled your eyes, angrily wiping the tears off your cheeks.

“He thinks I really like him. What a moron.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What the hell was she talking about?

“If he’s as good as you think he is, we’ll for sure win the contest and end up on Baywatch.” It only took you a second to connect all the dots. This jabroni was clearly her boyfriend, and she was only flirting with Bill to win the stupid castle contest.

You had heard enough, running back to the beach in hopes of finding Bill.

Fuck, all these beach houses looked the same. If Bill hadn’t pointed out which house he was staying at you would have no idea how you would find him.

You knocked on the door, praying you remembered the right house, and that Bill would answer instead of his hormonal parents.

“Y/n?” Thankfully Bill did answer the door, hair wet from what you assumed to be a recent shower. “How’s it...hanging?” He stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey. I’m sorry about being a dickweed earlier.” He seemed as equally surprised as you were by your apology. “Um, I guess I was just thrown off at your presence… that’s not really an excuse… anyways, the whole reason I’m here is about that girl you were with earlier.”

“Summer? What about her, dude?” Oh my gosh, of course her name was something as pretentious as Summer.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure how to tell you this, but… She’s using you. I was on the boardwalk, and I had overheard you leaving, and I guess her boyfriend came up to her.. Long story short, she’s going to try and get you to build her a sandcastle to win that festival thing at the end of the week and take the credit so they can win the roles on Baywatch.” You met his eyes, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry.”

He stayed quiet, your eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s heavy. I mean, I’m not stupid. You’re usually most cruel around me, and now you’re acting all...nice? I do not think I’m falling for this one.”

“You don’t believe me?” You couldn’t believe it. “I know I could be less of a bitch to you, but I’ve never lied to you in all the years I’ve known you. You just met her three days ago!”

“Y/n…” He spoke carefully. “I think you were correct when you said we shouldn’t try to hang out just because we’re staying at the same beach.” Your throat tightened, that sour taste returning to your tongue.

“Fine!” You hissed. “I don’t even know why I wasted my breath and time trying to warn you. God, I wish we had never come to this stupid fucking beach!” You ran off his porch into the sand, face burning with shame.

Bill couldn’t stop thinking about your interaction yesterday. He was barely paying attention to anything Summer was saying to him. He wished Ted was here. He always knew what to say.

He walked beside her on the boardwalk, eyes glued to the crashing waves, mind replaying the scene over and over again.

“Bill, are you listening?” Bill blinked, turning to face her, cheeks flushing.

“Sorry.”

“I said I’m going to get more sunblock, you’re looking a little pink.”

“Oh, thanks, babe.” He heard her walk off, zoning out again. You had looked so betrayed when he didn’t believe you, but, it couldn't be you were telling the truth. Why would you do something like that? All you seemed to do was glare at him, brush him off, and scoff at his jokes. It was clear he wasn’t your favorite person.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts once more, looking around to see if Summer had come back yet. His eyes caught her figure walking up the beach and he raised his hand to wave, stopping when he saw her wrap her arms around some unknown guy. He was too far away to hear what they were saying but knew what it meant when she had kissed him. Y/n was right. And I was so non-non-non excellent to her.

Sweat was dripping from Bill’s brow, his chest heaving as he panted. He could not remember where your house was, even if it was supposedly close to his own. It was the third time he had run up and down the coastline, trying to remember where you had pointed four days ago.

This was ridiculous, he was never going to find you… until Monday, when you both would be at school. But that was days from now!

“Y/n!” He fell to his knees in the sand, trying to catch his breath.

“Bill?”

“Y/n!” It was a miracle. He noticed the basket in your hands, having collected odd rocks, seashells and glass while walking along the shore. You had been trying to explore away from your house, hoping not to run into the very man who was looking for you.

“How’s it… hanging?” You asked awkwardly, scanning the area for the female that was usually seen by his side. “Where’s Summer?” He scrambled to stand in front of you.

“Y/n, you were most veracious last evening. Summer had been pursuing me with malicious intent. I caught sight of her embracing her boyfriend and I knew you were speaking the truth. I regret the way I treated you. I should have trusted you.”

“I mean… You had reason to doubt me. It’s not all your fault. Besides, it seemed as if she really liked you. I probably wouldn’t have believed me either.” You coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of your head sheepishly. “Um, to be honest, I really only acted so bogus because I… like you.”

“No way…” He breathed, trying to recall any instance where it seemed you had a crush on him.

“Uh.. yeah. Yes way.” Your cheeks pinked. “But I obviously don’t expect you to return the feeling. I just get really nervous around you so I guess I figured I should treat you like dirt instead of trying to talk to you like a normal person. But I was worried you would think I was too weird, or that I talk too much, or-” You were cut off by a pair of lips. It was so foolish… and so Bill.

“What about Summer?” You asked once he had pulled away.

“What about her?” It was just like Bill to not stay too upset for too long.

His gaze was burning, his lips curling into that perfect, knee-melting, pearly smile. That smile you couldn’t stand. That smile that you couldn’t believe was finally directed at you.

#bill s preston esquire #bill/reader #bill x reader #bill s preston/reader #bill s preston x reader #Bill and Ted #reader insert #Bill and Ted/Reader #Bill and Ted x reader #Bill and Ted imagine #Bill and Ted Imagines #Bill imagine #Bill S Preston imagine #bill and ted's excellent adventure #bill and ted's bogus journey #bill and ted fanfic #bill and ted face the music

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Eleven ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 4471

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Hello hello, happy Easter! Tomorrow (Monday) is a little bit hectic for me so I’m getting this one out tonight (Sunday) instead. Thanks for reading :)

After a quick breakfast with Haldir and Glorfindel, they set off and I spend the day exploring Imladris. I do not stray far from the main household, yet all that I discover does not cease to amaze me. Elrond’s home is beautiful. If it weren’t for all the horrible, sudden drop-offs, I would consider it a perfectly wonderful place to live.

I spend the first part of my day in the garden. Behind the stone of the estate is a sprawling field filled with an impossibly wide variety of flora. I pass time exploring each bush, tree, and sprout, every one somehow more beautiful than the last. A few of the more sweet-smelling blossoms make me sneeze, so after a while, I head back inside to explore Elrond’s extensive library. But when the sun begins to sink below the horizon, I know I shouldn’t put it off any longer — I have ignored him since our arrival. I need to go see Alex. We haven’t talked in private ever, really, but I feel like we need to touch base. Though we may be slightly at odds, we owe it to each other to work through it.

I remember an attendant leading him down the hallway below mine as I ascended the stairs last night, and from there, it’s not hard for me to figure out which room is his. All the other doors are open, indicating that the inhabitants are out for the day. Already in my short stay here, I realize the elves are much more trusting than humans — while private, they must rely on each other to respect that privacy, because they don’t attempt to bar others from entering their spaces by closing their doors when they are not home. One door at the very end of the hall is closed shut. It is undoubtedly Alex’s.

I knock once.

He opens the door and I try to disguise my shock at the dark circles under his eyes and his disheveled hair. In all my memories of him, he is so put together, and this is completely at odds with the man I think I know. He ushers me in and shuts the door quickly behind me. The slam echoes through the stone room. He turns to me, wringing his hands together almost nervously. Unease grows in my stomach.

“Are you okay?”

He shakes his head violently and begins to pace the length of the small bedroom. “Of course I’m not okay. We’ve been wrenched from all that we know and dropped in this ridiculous place—” He cuts off his words and stares at the ground, shaking his head. “Look, I’ve decided that there’s no way around it. We are in some sort of other world — there’s no way this is some place back where we’re from. But if we did arrive here somehow, that means there has to be a way back. So we need to find it.”

I sit on the edge of his bed, watching him warily. I, too, have recently accepted the reality of this new world, but I hadn’t expected Alex to come around so easily — especially after our conversations on the way here. But getting home…if it’s a real possibility…”Do you think we could do that?”

His eyes snap to mine, desperation causing them to blow wide. “I think Elrond could. The people here hold him in such high esteem—I believe he’s very powerful. We need to talk to him, plead our case. If anyone could send us back, it’s probably him.” He notices my silence and turns on me with an accusatory stare. “You do want to go home, right?”

I swallow. “I…I think so. I mean, it is really dangerous here….But Elrond had a good point when I talked to him earlier. He said it’s probably just as dangerous in our homeworld.”

He groans almost animalistically. “I cannot keep having this fight with you! We don’t belong here. The dangers of our world are ours and the dangers of this world are theirs. And just because we agree that this is a different world doesn’t mean that anything’s changed. We still have people back home who miss us.”

But after my conversation with Haldir, I’m not so sure that’s the case. Yes, there are probably people who miss us in the usual sense, but the crushing grief that must come from being separated from someone you really, truly care for…I’m not sure I have that. I think I would know if I did.

I try to redirect the subject, not wanting to get into it with Alex. “How do you think it would work? Getting home. Do you think we would get our memories back?”

He stops pacing, excitement entering his eyes now that I’m seemingly more agreeable to his position. “Yeah, I think we would. Now, does that mean we would lose the memories we’ve made here? Maybe. Probably. Again, I think Elrond has the answers.”

I let my eyes fall to my fingers. The thought of forgetting…of basically erasing my time here, the friendships I’ve made…it makes me feel horribly sad. I drop my head into my hands. Oh, I just don’t know what to do!

“Let’s go talk to Elrond,” Alex urges. “See what he has to say.”

“Okay,” I agree, trudging to the door. At the very least, it will provide a distraction from the grief that has hit me so unexpectedly. “He’s probably in his study—follow me.”

I lead Alex along the same route I took this morning. Only, then, Haldir was at my side. I feel a pang of loneliness. Huh. After two weeks in constant company, I guess it is a little strange to be separated from him and the others.

As this morning, Elrond is in his study, surrounded by books and stacks of parchment. Stress tugs at the edges of his eyes but when he raises his head to greet us, it fades into a look of knowing. He was expecting us.

“Ah,” he stands, beckoning for us to enter. “I was wondering when I would be seeing you. Please, come in. I believe we have much to discuss.”

Alex strides forward, a stubborn set to his shoulders. He wastes no time. “How do we get back home?”

Elrond raises a thoughtful eyebrow, leading us to an auxiliary room with plushy chairs and couches. I sit on an unoccupied cushion. “What makes you so sure you can?”

Alex huffs. “If we got here, we can get back. Somehow, there’s a link between the worlds. We just need to find it and use it to get home.”

Elrond nods, appraising my friend. Unexpectedly, he turns his head to me. “And you, Cosima? Do you think there is a way home?”

I open my mouth, but no words come out. I close it, looking at the ground to buy myself some time. What are the possibilities? What are the chances? … And what am I hoping for? “I…I think Alex is probably right. Doors open both ways, right? If it opened to send us here, it can open to send us back. But we don’t know how easy it is to open that door.”

A sparkle enters Elrond’s eye. “Humans often do not get enough credit for their intelligence, nor their tenacity. Yes, I agree that there should be a way for the two of you to return to your homeworld. Power in Arda is changing. Forces of evil grow and the wisdom of the elves must adapt to overcome it. There is a finite amount of power in this world, and with it being pulled in so many different directions, it is possible it has grown thin in its blanket over our universe. The two of you could have fallen between the cracks.”

I look at the wall, not able to withstand Elrond’s piercing gaze or Alex’s frenzied one. If there is a real possibility of going home…isn’t it my duty to try?

Something in Elrond’s words catches my attention. “If the dispersion of that finite amount of power is constantly changing…is it possible that the ‘crack’ that let us in has already closed? Or moved somewhere else? If we tried to go back, isn’t there a chance we would end up in some other world?”

Elrond’s mouth sets into a grave line. “Precisely. There is a great deal of risk involved in your endeavor to return to your world.”

“But you can help us?” Alex speaks in a rough, desperate voice.

Elrond shakes his head, expression regretful. “I have power, yes, but not in the way you seek. If someone were able to help you—and bear in mind, it is a strong ‘if’—it would be Lady Galadriel. I believe you have heard of her through your companions?”

Alex grits his teeth, standing and beginning to pace a furious line. “Are you positive there is nothing you can do? It took two weeks to get here and that wasn’t even the whole journey. We do not have time to wait for them to decide to return to Lothlórien and then make the trip there. That could set us back months.”

“With regret, I am unable to help. My skill lies in healing and languages—academia, really. My power cannot compare to that of the Lady. I am sorry.”

I hate myself a little for it, but I feel relieved. The choice is taken from me. For the time being, all I can do is wait. Lady Galadriel might be able to help us, yes, but it will be at least two months before I have to make the choice to attempt to return home or not.

Alex evidently doesn’t feel the same way, and I don’t like the way he’s glaring at Elrond. I try to smooth things over. “Thank you for speaking with us and trying to help. We’ll let you get back to your work.” I stand, bowing my head in farewell as I’ve seen the elves here do. Alex makes no move to follow me. I prompt him with his name. He keeps his jaw tightly clenched but does incline his head towards Elrond before stalking from the room.

I have to jog to catch up. “Alex—“

“Entertain yourself, Cosima. I want to be alone.”

I take a step back. It’s not his words that stun me, it’s the grief in them. He sounds like he’s being torn apart.

Whereas I feel relief and, if I’m being honest with myself, no small amount of happiness.

I think I’m a bad person.

But I can do one good thing, and that’s grant Alex his wish to handle his feelings in private. I step forward, give him a quick, awkward hug, and let him walk away.

{***}

After lunchtime, there’s a knock on my door. I open it to the grinning faces of Rumil, Orophin, and Lavandil.

Laughing at their enthusiasm, I wave them in, grateful for the seating area in my bedroom — it makes hosting quite convenient.

Rumil whistles lowly, taking a look around. “Look at how they’ve set you up! I’ve got to share with Haldir which is just as terrible as it sounds. He says I snore! I do not snore.” He looks so offended, I don’t have the heart to tell him that he occasionally does.

Lavandil runs her hand over one of the gossamer curtains, eyeing the view. “I love these falls. You don’t seem them as well back where I grew up—that’s partly why I moved to the main city. They’re wonderful, no?”

Even though I’m not a fan of their height, I can definitely agree to their splendor. “Oh, absolutely. After days of the plains and rocks, it’s so nice to have a change of scenery.”

Rumil pours himself a glass of water and reclines on the chaise. “So, where have you been off to today? Baranor and I came looking for you this morning but you weren’t here.”

I blink. I figured Rumil would know, given he shares a room with the brother who collected me. “Haldir took me this morning to see Elrond about my arm. See?” I hold it up to present the thin, raised scar. “All healed. It’s miraculous, really, how it healed within minutes. And then Glorfindel, Haldir, and I had breakfast in the kitchens because I guess we missed the main meal, and then the two of them took off for the borders. I explored for a bit and then—” I falter. Should I tell them about my meeting with Alex and Elrond? Silly, I admonish myself. You didn’t do anything wrong. Still, it feels strange to admit to them that I had been seeking a way home—a way to leave them, essentially. But there’s no good reason to keep it hidden, so I brush aside my hesitation. “I talked to Alex, and then he and I went to visit Elrond.”

“About your home,” Orophin guesses, gravity in his voice.

“Yes,” I admit.

Rumil gapes, evidently caught off-guard, and I shoot him an apologetic look. Yeah, that hurts.

“We wanted to know if getting home is even a possibility. And, well, jury’s still out. But Elrond thinks if someone can help us, it will be Lady Galadriel. So…” I shrug.

A twinkle enters Rumil’s eye and he sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So you’re returning to Lothlórien with us?” All traces of hurt have disappeared from his features.

I can’t help but grin at his excitement. “Yes—if you’ll have us.”

“Of course we will!” He beams, sitting back into the chaise with a new air of relaxation. “I mean, Haldir has the final say of course, but he’ll say yes. He might not like Alex, but he has grown quite fond of you.”

Each ellyn suddenly seems very interested in scrutinizing my face. I feel my cheeks heat under the weight of their stares and try to disguise it by standing and filling a glass of water. “I’ve grown fond of all of you, too.”

Rumil presses further. “Yes, but if you had to pick one—someone you’re the most fond of—who would that be?”

Orophin chuckles and Lavandil bites her lower lip, looking up at me with interest. I take a sip of the water, trying to buy myself time. This feels like a trap. I get around it as best I can. “Roch, of course. I miss him already.”

This sends them into fits of laughter and evidently puts their curiosity to rest — for the time being. I return to my seat, lounging along with them. When the sky begins to darken, Orophin requests dinner to be brought to us and we talk into the late hours of the night enjoying good food and even better company. And, though I am sure to feel guilty about it later, I do not miss Alex or my home at all.

{***}

Despite my full belly and long day, sleep eludes me. Part of that is my fault—I hold myself back from drifting off, not wanting to have another nightmare. When it must be at least midnight, I give up tossing and turning and change back into my day clothes. I didn’t spend near enough time wandering the garden or the library — perhaps I can tire myself with some exploring. As silently as possible, I push open the creaking door and step into the hallway.

It’s surprisingly bright — I’ve caught the moon when it’s high in the sky, and tonight it is full and robust in its shine. Light dances atop the ever-flowing water, creating a sparkling effect that leaves me breathless. Once again, I find myself glad that I have more time here. Though part of me feels like I should want to return home, another part of me isn’t near ready to leave. There’s so much more to see and learn and…well, I’m not ready to give up my new friends.

I go slowly down the open-air corridor, trying to keep my noise to a minimum. The household is asleep, for the most part. I see the odd attendant bustling around finishing duties, but the night is quiet and peaceful. It’s too beautiful to pass time away inside, so I elect to go back to the gardens and just avoid the blossoms that sent me into a sneezing fit earlier today.

The gardens are at the back of the estate and I do my best to remember the path I took this morning. With so many pavilions and archways and hallways and staircases, it’s easy to get lost. But all hallways—sooner or later—lead outside. So, after minutes of unsuccessfully trying to retrace my path, I choose a hallway at random, deciding to follow it to its end.

Further down, warm light flickers and ebbs—candlelight. As I get closer, I catch a voice I know well. He speaks in hurried, hushed tones in the Elvish language—arguing, maybe? Or just having a rushed discussion? A vaguely familiar voice responds in the same manor. Abruptly, the sounds cut off.

I take a few steps forward, the two figures becoming visible in the limited light.

“Haldir?” Squinting, I realize why I sort-of recognized the other voice—it belongs to Glorfindel. The two turn to me, each dipping their head in welcome.

Glorfindel looks perplexed. “Hello, Cosima. Do humans not require much sleep?”

I laugh guiltily. “No, they do — probably more than elves if we’re basing it on my traveling companions. I just couldn’t sleep so I was trying to find the gardens.”

Haldir steps out of the doorway and turns to Glorfindel. “Ah, I should be letting you get to bed, mellon.” He gives a nod of farewell to his elven friend. “We will continue our discussion tomorrow?”

“Yes, yes.” Glorfindel waves off Haldir’s stern look and moves to shut his door. “Goodnight.”

Haldir and I are alone in the hallway.

He clears his throat. “Would you like company?”

I smile, gesturing in the direction of what I hope is the outdoors. “Sure. You’re not tired after being gone all day?”

He shrugs, clasping his hands behind his back as he walks. “Tired, yes. Though my mind is not yet ready for sleep.”

“Was it a long day, then?”

Haldir sighs, and the sound is so weighed down with exhaustion and sadness that I nearly stop and insist we both go to bed. Sleep might make him feel better. But he is an adult and so am I, and neither of us really wants to sleep. So I say nothing and wait for him to explain.

“Much of Elrond’s border patrol is young. I worry they are unprepared for the increase in attacks. The conversation you heard—Glorfindel and I were disagreeing. I think it is worth advising Elrond to send his more experienced fighters to the borders and allow the newer ones to use this time to train. Glorfindel thinks calling the entire army is an overreaction and that I am overstepping my bounds. And he is right. I am captain of the Lady’s guard, not Lord Elrond’s. Still, I cannot help but believe it is worth interfering in this way — I think it could save lives, help Imladris be more prepared.” He looks at the ground, shaking his head. “I am sorry. I don’t need to be bothering you with this.”

“No, it’s alright.” I chuckle ruefully. “You’ve seen me cry so many times, you’ve earned the right to talk about whatever you want.”

He smiles and gives me a side-eye. “I’ll admit, while your tears used to perplex me, I think I am more accustomed to them by now.”

I roll my eyes and make a conscious effort not to be offended. “Great.”

He gives me an apologetic look, but mirth dances in his eyes. I turn the conversation back on him. “So what are you going to do?”

He sighs slowly, turning the corner into an adjacent hallway. “I will continue discussing it with Glorfindel tomorrow — it would be ideal to have him on my side. But if not, I plan to go to Elrond. I’d rather cause offense than withhold strategies that could save lives.”

I nod, agreeing. “Hopefully Glorfindel will see your side, and if he doesn’t, at least Elrond. I can’t imagine he would disagree — Elrond doesn’t seem like the type of man to choose pride over lives.”

“Ellon,” Haldir corrects gently.

I turn over my shoulder so he can see the begrudging look I give him. “Ellon.”

Haldir smiles almost smugly and we step from stone to lush grass. We’ve come out on the side of the estate — the garden is in the back. Thankfully, Haldir seems to know where to go. We curve our path left.

It’s a bit humid and I can feel my hair already reacting. I bring a hand to the back of my head, attempting to smooth the frizz. “Speaking of Elrond, Alex and I went to see him today — Did Rumil tell you?”

Haldir shakes his head but gives me a look that shows he’s not surprised — he guessed Alex and I would ask Elrond about getting home.

I continue, feeling a tad nervous. Rumil said Haldir wouldn’t object to our returning with him, and I don’t think he would…but what if he does? I don’t think I’d be able to keep myself from taking it personally.

I twist the fingers of my right hand into the fabric of my dress. “Um, Elrond mentioned that if anyone can help us get home, it would be Lady Galadriel. So—if it’s alright with you, of course—I—we—would like to return home with you. To Lothlórien.” I add, perhaps unnecessarily.

Haldir stops walking and turns to me, blinking once. Dread seizes in my chest. Oh no.

But his lips twitch and I realize he’s fighting a smile. “Lothlórien would be happy to host you, and I would be honored to escort you back.”

I beam, feeling nearly giddy with relief. Haldir relaxes and a hesitant smile brightens his face. The movement causes moonlight to reflect in his eyes. It sets them alight. I can’t believe I used to think them cold towards me — they are anything but. Guarded and suspicious at times, yes, but never cold. Not now that he’s gotten to know me, anyway. Instead, they are soft, gentle. And, exactly as Rumil had said, fond.

“Thank you.”

He inclines his head in that formal way of his, and the softness never leaves his eyes. He resumes his steps, leading us around the corner and into the labyrinthine garden.

I sneeze.

And again.

Haldir sputters out a ridiculous laugh, the sound so carefree and wild that I almost don’t mind having to sneeze to hear it.

“You’re allergic,” he accuses, gesturing to the flowers to our right.

I shrug, trying to ignore the tickling in my nose. “Just to some of them. Come on, I found an area earlier that’s not so bad.”

Haldir chuckles and shakes his head but follows me through the gardens. “Why did you want to come here if it just makes you sneeze?”

“Because it’s beautiful,” I answer simply. Because sometimes, that’s enough.

I find the alcove I discovered this morning and sit on the stone bench there, scooting over to make room for Haldir. He sits next to me, stretching out his long legs. Looking up at the sky, I can see stars through the wooden, flower-filled lattice that hangs above us. I sigh, finding the sight of the sky sobering. “Do you know how I finally realized I was in another world?”

Haldir shakes his head, waiting for me to continue.

“The stars,” I murmur. “In almost every memory I have, I’m looking at the stars. I know their patterns, how they move with the seasons, the names of each constellation. I watched them my whole life. But that night in the plains—when you came looking for me by the river—I looked up and realized that I don’t know these stars. They’re not in the right order or in the proper places. And I knew, even if I wasn’t ready to accept it, that these aren’t the stars of my world.”

Haldir tilts his head to the side, watching me in silence. He twitches as if to move and then tenses, looking uncertain. But after a moment he sets his jaw and, in one fluid motion, stands and removes his cloak, laying it on the ground. He offers me a hesitant smile as he sits—the expression so at odds with his usual confidence that I half-gape at him in disbelief. He reclines slowly, leaving room for me to do the same.

I press my lips against a smile even though I can feel that I’m losing the battle. Okay. I rise from the bench and, taking great care not to step on Haldir’s fingers, lay down next to him.

The thick fabric of his cloak mitigates the coolness of the ground and I stretch out, feeling my back resting on the firm surface of the earth. Though we slept near each other outside every night for two weeks, there were more people, then. We were farther apart. Now, we are alone and, due to the width of the cloak, there is only a sliver of space between us. If I moved my arm even slightly to the right, it would touch his.

When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, gentle, and rumbles deep in his chest. “I have been watching these stars for centuries. They will become familiar to you, too. You only have to spend time with them.”

So I do.

Haldir and I lay on his cloak staring at the stars for hours. We don’t say much, only periodically mentioning something about our days or asking the other if they’re comfortable or cold. The newness of our proximity never fades, and I find myself hyper-aware of the warmth on the side of my body that nearly touches his. There’s a desire in me—something new and strange—to close that space between us, to rest my head on his chest and feel his arms hold me. I fight it, attempting to focus on what’s above me instead. He doesn’t seem to be struggling like I am.

At some point, I must slip into sleep. When Haldir gently nudges my shoulder, there’s a touch of early light in the sky. He smiles softly, offers me a hand up, and walks me to my room in silence. My efforts and sleep deprivation have left me exhausted. I barely remember climbing into bed and immediately fall back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make me smile <3 Let me know if you’d like a tag!

|next part|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart Tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

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murder-raven13 · 3 years

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My Haikyuu Ships pt. 2

A/N: This is the continuation of my Haikyuu ships and the reason I ship them.

Warning(s): cursing, somehow these kind of turned into small relationship headcanons for some of them, not proofread, looooong

Word Count: 2,373

Part 1 Part 3

Yaku x Lev

Honestly, the height different is a big deal for me. So fucking cute, like...just what? Plus, Yaku is a grumpy smol and Lev is a happy toll and I just-

But Yaku is grumpy chaotic and Lev is puppy [and a little oblivious] chaotic and them together is just adorable chaotic. Lev irritates Yaku so much in the beginning [which, like, understandable; Lev’s a cocky idiot], but manages to learn how to deal with him. Develops an exasperated fondness for the giant. Lev learns how to control himself a little because of Yaku [this is partly because now Lev has a singular target for his mischief]. They’re just so cute and Yaku is so done [was highkey mad at himself when he caught feelings]. Lev was definitely to type to fall in love at first sight.

Suga x Oikawa

Okay, Okay, so like I don’t know how this one started for me. But I love them, okay? They don’t like each other at first because they’re rivals, not just because they’re on different teams but because they’re both setters. But then Oikawa also thinks Suga is unfairly pretty [who doesn’t?] and Suga returns the sentiment [the level of pretty in this relationship should be illegal; it has reached critical mass]. And then Oikawa finds that Suga is an instigating little gremlin who physically abuses people as a form of affection. And Suga finds that Oikawa is super dedicated and a literal perfect director when it comes to people [he can literally make anyone sing any tune he wants with his smile]. So, these two get along like a house on fire. Two manipulative meanies. They get into so much mischief together [Iwaizumi swears he’s going to kill them or himself]. But they also are just really soft. Like, Oikawa will burrow himself into Suga’s side no matter where there are or what position they’re in [clingy baby]. And Suga will bury his hands in Oikawa’s sweater whenever they’re cold [loves the way Oikawa will shriek if he touches his skin with his cold hands]. They leave sticky notes in each other’s bags or random places for the other to find [eventually] with little compliments or things on them. Just, they’re conniving, adorable bastards and I hate them.

Terushima x Daichi

This is another one where I don’t know where the fuck it came from. I’m not even sure I have a reason behind this other than Terushima being a smug asshole and Daichi having none of it. Terushima is a ball of reckless energy and he doesn’t take anything seriously despite being ridiculously intelligent [boy is in Class 7]. And Daichi, bless his soul, is a dad. All he does is take shit seriously and chorale reckless idiots onto the right path. So, when they get together, Terushima ensures that Daichi lets loose and doesn’t forget to take care of himself [by making sure he’s not too stressed or overworking himself]. And Daichi is, like, all of Terushima’s impulse control. Honestly the only reason Terushima doesn’t die. So, they keep each other on track and make sure that each is happy and doing their best. Just a very chill, well-balanced couple.

Ushijima x Tendou

These are both my babies and I cannot with them. Their cuteness hurts me. Ushijima is so stoic and so single-mindedly dedicated to the things that matter to him and the list of things that matter to him is short: volleyball, his family, and Tendou. That’s it. Man is legit just completely dedicated to Tendou, no questions asked, would help him bury a body. But he sucks at communication and showing his emotions. And that’s never been a problem with Tendou. Tendou never got tired of talking to him, never stopped trying to include him, was never bothered by how little Ushijima talked and Ushijima literally loves this man so much. And Tendou, my adorable little baby, was so lonely and so insecure. He expected everyone to judge him for his appearance or to leave him because he’s annoying or a freak. But Ushijima literally does not care about Tendou’s looks not being conventional; he thinks he’s attractive all the same and has no problem telling Tendou this. And Ushijima has made a sustained effort to interact with Tendou’s interests because he knows it makes Tendou happy [Tendou talks to him about his interests, so Ushijima makes sure he knows all of them so these conversations can happen]. Just, they’re so perfect, I can’t.

Tendou x Semi

Big, energetic Tendou with grumpy, stoic Semi. Gives me life. Semi acts irritated with Tendou’s antics, but he loves them, really. And Tendou knows it, too. Teasing little shit; Semi never gets a break. Tendou helps Semi whenever he’s feeling down because he’s not doing as well as he hoped [Semi wants to be the best but being the best is hard]. And Semi helps Tendou remember that opinions don’t matter; that he likes Tendou for all those weird, annoying qualities Tendou sometimes hates. They’re very sweet and, surprisingly, Semi is the one that initiates most serious physical contact [he initiates their first kiss, their first real hug, their first cuddle session, their first time, all of it] because Tendou wants to make sure that everything is going at Semi’s pace since Semi isn’t as comfortable with touch or intimacy. A very sweet, yet playful couple.

Shirabu x Goshiki

The small, itty-bitty amount of information I’ve been given about these boys is criminal. But I’ve seen enough to ship this. Goshiki is overzealous and a people pleaser; he just wants to be good enough to be great. One of the ones that wants to prove himself more than anything else. Praise is received extremely well. Shirabu, on the other hand, wants the opposite. He doesn’t want to be the best, he doesn’t want to be the one everyone relies on. He wants to be more of an invisible support beam, a minor cog in an overall grand and powerful machine. He’s not very forthcoming with his emotion, unless that emotion is annoyance or disdain. Goshiki tries to be cool, but can’t really keep his emotions in check very well. So, they, as a couple, play a kind of tug-of-war. Goshiki constantly pulls for more and Shirabu constantly pulls for less, which keeps the two of them balanced, putting out just enough that they’re constantly improving, just in subtle ways instead of grandiose ones. Shirabu tries to pretend he’s not a softie, but he is [only for Goshiki, though, who basks in the little moments Shirabu lets him have of uninhabited affection, whose rarity makes them worth the world to Goshiki].

Nishinoya x Tsukishima

This one came about because of the lowkey abusive relationship Noya has with Tsukishima. Noya is like 5′2 and Tsukki is like a whole foot taller. Yet Noya can and will stand up to Tsukki and let him know when he’s being an ass, physical methods used as necessary [most of this is limited to hitting his side or messing with his glasses if Tsukki’s face is within reach]. Noya will also mock Tsukki, playfully, and reminds him of his age, which is good for Tsukki because he’s chronically withering inside his little tsundre shell. Noya is also highkey really supportive. Whenever Tsukki does something good, no matter how subtle it is, Noya is there to give him recognition for it, which, again, reminds Tsukki that he can be nicer and that Noya can see him even when he’s trying to hide. And Noya has fun with Tsukki because he keeps him on his toes; they have a fun relationship built of just the right amount of trust and ‘lets remember to have fun’.

Daichi x Kuroo

My captain babes. Daichi and Kuroo both have very forthcoming personalities. But Kuroo is much better at remembering that it’s important he acts goofy and stupid sometimes because he’s a student, a kid, and carry a lot of stress. Daichi isn’t so good at this. He’s gotten so used to dealing with reckless children that need him to be a serious iron fist that he’s forgotten that he needs to let go sometimes and that that’s okay. Kuroo helps him remember this. And their relationship is built around understanding. When one needs help or a little space to deal with their serious stuff, the other is right there to be the pillar they need. If they need to goof around and forget a little, they’re there and prepped with hot chocolate and bad trivia games that Daichi sucks at. When they’re both stressed under piles of work, they never forget the other. They’ll sit next to each other at the table, on the bed, on the couch, the floor, with their legs or their shoulders or their feet lightly touching, just as a reminder that they’re there. If one falls asleep, the other will save their work and haul them to bed because sleeping slumped over isn’t any good. Out of my ships, this is definitely one of the best, in terms of matching and functionality as a serious couple.

Kuroo x Bokuto

They’re relationship isn’t as serious. Bokuto is a refugee for Kuroo, a place where he can unapologetically turn his brain off. He doesn’t have to be a captain or responsible or the top of his class. He can just be Kuroo and Bokuto has fun with him. They go on adventures and play volleyball together, experimenting with new moves or ideas all the time. Definitely the couple that would regularly go to the amusement park or the fair. Kuroo gives Bokuto his undivided attention whenever they’re together and spoils the hell out of him and Bokuto’s mood swings don’t bother him, he knows what to do. Boys are very committed to each other; they can’t imagine ever not being together because their relationship is just so fun and comfortable. It’s safe and loving, without a doubt, because they are, first and foremost, best friends.

Yaku x Kuroo

Hated each other at first because their middle school teams were rivals. And Yaku’s a grumpy little gremlin that can be a little too serious sometimes. But that’s just until he relaxes. Once he’s comfortable with people, he gets a lot less serious and just a little less grumpy [he’s an angry smol and my mind cannot be changed]. But he loves Kuroo. Can’t help snorting at Kuroo’s god awful chemistry pickup lines; they’re just that bad. He loves them, though. And he can throw them right back. They have chemistry and physics debates all the time, often while doing something completely non-serious, like Twister or that headband game. Kenma can’t stand being around them because they throw insults at each other like they’re compliments, loving voices and touches and all. Kuroo is always touching Yaku, will literally reach for him completely subconsciously, a fact Yaku mocks him ruthlessly for despite that fact that he always adjusts himself to fit the contact better [because he’s just as clingy as Kuroo, just not as openly]. Sickeningly cute behind closed doors, only mildly affectionate in public.

Oikawa x Kuroo

A couple that met later in life. I ship them as college students, to be honest. But they would be cute. Kuroo is goofy and a science nerd; Oikawa would alien talk him into a stupor. Iwaizumi is just glad he is no longer the sole participant in Oikawa’s space conversations. These two would casually come up with plans to demolish their opponent’s spirit and have fun doing it. Plot murder together on a regular Tuesday night. Would definitely be able to calm the other down when they began to take shit too far.

Ushijima x Oikawa

[Can y’all tell I’m a whore for the enemies to lovers trope?]

Ushijima is a huge ball of attractive stoic that doesn’t know how to properly act on his feelings. Has always admired Oikawa as a setter [legit has crushed on this boy since the first time they plated a game together in middle school and Oikawa vowed to beat him]. Ushijima has no problem telling Oikawa how much he admires his playing, his skill, and his determination to win no matter what. Oikawa had no idea in high school that Ushijima’s interactions with him were Ushijima’s way of showing he liked him. He saw it as antagonization because Ushijima thought he was better [Ushijima thought they would have been their best together]. His growing feelings for Ushijima forced Oikawa to face some of his own securities and grow as a person. Had to go through almost an entire identity crisis when he realized he was in love with Ushijima of all people. Iwaizumi wanted to throw his entire phone away Oikawa called him to whine so much. And Oikawa’s lack of understanding Ushijima’s advances forced Ushijima to become more adept at reading others and expressing his own feelings in a concise, clear way.

Kenma x Yamamoto

This is my favorite Kenma ship and one of my favorite overall ships. Let me tell you why. I did not ship them until season 4 because I didn’t know much about their relationship until then. But Tora and Kenma are another set that didn’t get along at first. Their personalities makes them natural antagonists to the other. Yamamoto is a try hard and always gives 120% in everything he does. Kenma is the type to give a very efficient 70%, meaning that he finds the best ways to get the same results 100% would have gotten, just without as much work put into it. And they have such a grudging respect for the other at first, once they begin to come to terms with the other. That respect grows and becomes the foundation for their relationship. They know that the other is going to do their job and they’re going to do it well. They have complete faith in the other and when they work together, their personalities become magnified. Kenma relies on Tora to be forthcoming and Tora expects Kenma to find the best way to do things. They just, they’re perfect, and I love them. Please, why is there so little content for this ship?

On that note, Imma end this. There will probably most definitely be a part 3 to this because I don’t have free time, but that’s never stopped me.

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13atoms · 3 years

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Fic idea: reader and orlo are penpals, and when the reader finally visits Orlo for the first time, they expect a suave, intelligent, confident man... And then Orlo's very, very flustered and tongue tied around them, but still in his endearing way?

No idea where to go from there, so have fun I guess?

Oh my god i love this concept. SO much. He’d be so suave in letters.

Since I’ve been away a while: here’s some flufffffffff

Orlo fidgeted nervously as another carriage pulled away, an elderly Lord in an oversized wig departing rather than the woman he was expecting.

What would she be like? What would she look like? Sound like? Smell like?

What would she think of him?

He tried to gulp down the worst question, buzzing around his head like a wasp he couldn’t swat, cursing his sweaty palms as he rubbed them against his waistcoat subtly. The fear she wouldn’t like him had crept up on Orlo over the last few weeks, threatening to choke him the night before her arrival and keeping him from sleep as he had anxiously considered every possible outcome of their meeting for the first time.

Ought he to have warned her, of his reputation at the palace? Did he owe her some explanation of his flaws?

He wondered who she expected, if she had tried to fantasize about him as he had about her.

Her. This stranger, who he feared might already own his heart, who knew him better than anyone else in the palace walls.

They had flirted through neat script, he had agonised over her every crossed-out work and carefully chosen phrase, and now he was finally meeting her.

It was a strange gap in his day, between coup meetings and appeasing Peter, trying to hold the country together, Orlo had carved out time to await the arrival of her carriage.

He was being ridiculous, he knew it, standing by the turning circle of the carriages for hours. He had no idea what time she would arrive, and yet he could not bare to miss a second of her presence. So her would wait, alone and hoping his intentions remained unchallenged by the gentry at large.

No one in the palace knew of his correspondence, of his flirting and his attempts at charming in letters, of his secret he had harboured in letters nestled between official correspondence and against his heart in the inside pocket of his waistcoat.

He smiled, thinking of all the times he had leaned on the strength of those letters in difficult meetings and raucous parties, eagerly awaiting each new batch of letters in the hopes it might contain a couple of pages from her.

Catherine had almost caught him once, reading a letter from her crouched in a concealed corner of the theatre, squinting in the darkness in desperation to hear more from her.

“What are you reading?” Catherine had asked haughtily, reaching for the letter.

As quickly as he could without damaging the paper, he had declined to share with her, shoving the folded letter back into his pocket.

“Nothing!”

Catherine’s silent challenge, her stormy expression and impatiently tapping foot, had forced more words from him.

“A friend,” he muttered.

Her expression had warped into a wry smile, perhaps no longer afraid of his betrayal, seeing a little more than he would have liked.

Orlo smiled to himself against the cold air, the palace looming behind him and his beau somewhere through the forest, in a carriage. He could not deny the nervousness he felt for her safety, in equal measure to the nervousness he felt for her judgement of him.

In the windows, he could see people waking up, beginning their routines. Couples and single men, children and countless visitors to the huge building flitted in and out of the windows as the Russian wind whistled through the forest and horses and carriage crunched against the road.

A polite, “thank you” drew his eye from the windows above, causing him to staggered around clumsily to see the women disembarking the carriage.

He pulled her latest letter from his pocket, wondering if it might help him identify his mystery pen pal somehow, watching as she tried subtly to stretch from the journey and smiled at the driver.

Her reaction to the huge, grand building was familiar, and it made Orlo smile as she stared up at the windows above, marvelling at what was surely the largest building she had ever seen with wide eyes.

She smiled as she caught him staring, and Orlo found himself shrinking into himself, his chest tight with nervousness as she laid eyes on him.

"I'm looking for... Grigor Orlo?" she asked gently.

His name on her tongue made his heart stutter in his chest, and Orlo knew it. He was fucked.

"That's... actually me," he choked out, wincing at the stutter in his words.

He winced as her eyebrows raised, her gaze falling subtly across his face and clothing, mouth falling open for just a second of surprise too long. Then, she smiled so sweetly he feared he might faint.

“Then I suppose I am your pen pal!” she introduced herself, holding out a hand to him.

Orlo froze, kicking himself as he finally reached for her retreating hand, pulling it to his lips. Her soft skin brushed his lips in a kiss for just a second, but it was long enough for him to feel that clenching of his heart again, almost painful.

His mind was torturing him, seeming to race and halt at once.

Stop acting like such a fool!

“Orlo,” he choked out, “everyone just calls me Orlo.”

He released her hand and stood, struggling to meet her gaze even as he was inclined to stare at her. She regarded him curiously for a moment, before nodding mutely.

Her carriage was pulling away, her bags awaiting direction as servants stood nearby, and he wondered at what a spectacle this all must be. Still, he found himself lacking words.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” she told him sincerely, “at long last.”

“You too,” Orlo managed to return, wondering how a man of his age could manage to have his voice break whilst attempting to pronounce so few syllables.

The conversation had not truly been volleyed back to her, and yet Orlo could do nothing but berate himself for how badly he was failing.

He had thought her his soulmate, perhaps, a life partner. Words alone had been enough to prove their connection, a smart and witty woman he had begun correspondence with quite by accident seemed too good to be true, and he had been delighted each time she flirted back with him, and seemed as eager as him to talk more. She had travelled for days to visit him, for goodness’ sakes. She could not be more perfect, and he was fucking it all up.

“Where should I have my bags sent?” she asked him politely.

He wondered at what she might think, as he fumbled and failed to carry their conversation. Fuck. He had not even welcomed her yet, told her where she would be staying, he –

“Orlo?” she inquired.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, “um, there is a guest suite prepared. Near mine. Not that… not that that is relevant. Um…”

He turned to the serf who stood nearby, longsuffering and wincing at the man’s awkwardness.

“The guest suite three doors from my own, the door will be marked.”

They nodded, and vanished with the heavy bags.

His pen pal was staring wistfully across the gardens, and he felt nothing but pity for the poor woman. He had lured her here under the pretence of someone better than him, and now she would be undergoing the worst kind of betrayal, watching him fumble his words and wring his hands nervously.

She had wandered some small distance away, entranced by the morning bustle of the residents of the palace and their finery, the sheer scale of the grounds. He watched her for a moment, taking a deep breath, before stepping by her side.

“I cannot believe you are real,” he exhaled, “I have been so nervous…”

She turned a little to face him, but spared him her gaze. Perhaps she knew that was too much for now.

“Me too,” she admitted, “I mean, that you are real. And who you say.”

Orlo allowed himself to smile, and she turned properly to him.

“I was afraid I would let you down. I still am, in some way,” he admitted, the words rolling from his tongue unpermitted.

At least you are saying something, you fool.

He frowned at her displeased look, noticed how she took him in again, wondering if she was judging him. For his stature. For his clothes. His face. His voice. His demeanour.

He wondered which repulsed her the most.

“I admit, I had the same fear,” she told him.

Orlo opened and closed his mouth in surprise, her letter to him clutched tightly in his hand, the last words she had sent him before he could finally hear her speak in person.

“Why? You could never disappoint me!” Orlo heard himself pitchy, nervous still, and cursed himself for it.

She laughed, looking towards her feet, fluffing her skirt in a gesture which betrayed her own self-consciousness.

“I am embarrassed to admit it, but I fretted for hours on what to wear today. Whether you would think it was… enough. I know things are different here, I… I did not want to embarrass myself.”

Orlo intended to interrupt, one hand raised to make a point, but she continued to speak. She was not watching him, her gaze trained instead on the ladies assembling on the lawn in their ornate jewellery and fine dresses, squinting as if in scrutiny.

“I confess I had even considered turning around, for fear you might not find me as… eloquent in person.”

Orlo caught himself chuckling, quickly reaching for his pen pal’s hand to assuage her immediate fear he was laughing at her.

“I cannot believe how thoroughly your mind seems to match mine, in its cruel patterns,” he explained.

She smiled nervously, unconvinced, and he dropped her hand.

Then, he reached for it again, leaving his fingers awkwardly outstretched as he allowed his rue thoughts to spill from his mouth.

"I find that beautiful words come to me easier than beauty, flattery and emotion are easier through a quill than they are through my own voice. I understand if you want to leave. And if I have misled you in some way... oh, god, I am sorry."

His words were left with a beat of silence, self-depreciation stamping out hope as it blossomed at her timidly upturning lips.

“Now, you are sounding rather more than my pen pal,” she teased, and Orlo caught himself smiling, though the jibe felt rather at his own expense.

“I do not measure up in person…” Orlo attempted to fill her words, to release her from the need to tell him herself that she would be leaving.

She took his hand.

“On account of beauty, you certainly do. And perhaps you might show me a little more flattery and emotion as you introduce me to the grounds?”

She adjusted his arm, and he found himself allowing his muscles to go limp at the contact, letting her manipulate him as she pleased until he had styled him to offer his elbow, and snaked her own arm through his.

He covered her hand with his, feeling butterflies returning to his stomach.

In a good way. An exciting way. She smiled across at him.

“I would truly love that,” he confessed sincerely.

She leant into his side fondly, make his heartbeat accelerate faster than the wildest jigs danced in the palace. I would like so desperately to dance with her, he realised.

Ahead the sky was a bright blue, both of them squinting at the sun as Catherine joined the women in a chorus of bottle-smashing cheers. The bark of dogs inside the palace was accompanied by gunshots, as a hunt prepared to go out.

And Orlo was about to go on a date.

A date who was chirpily hanging onto his arm, looking around at all the new sights and flinching at the new noises.

Just for a second, he wondered that she might get used to them.

And stay.

With a blink he finally took a step forwards, delighting in how she bounced excitedly alongside him, his earlier trepidation giving forwards to the kind of fond nervousness which arrived at the start of something good.

As she smiled to him, he found himself earnestly grinning back.

“Then let us begin.”

#count orlo #count orlo x reader #count orlo x F!reader #this was a warm up ive got something gooood coming up!#cute though #fic #13atoms

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vampiregirl1797 · 4 years

Text

Love Blossoms

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Click Here To Find My Masterlist.

Warnings: mentions of murderers, panic attack, some light smut near the end, otherwise FLUFF and Aaron allowing himself to be less serious and more happy around Y/N.

Word Count: 15,065– It’s a big ole one.

Summary: A collection of moments between Aaron and Y/N, documenting the journey they took to come together.

When I had started working at the BAU, it had been just after Agent Greenway transferred to another unit. I had no idea why she’d made the decision, but I sensed it was better not to ask, due to the tense behaviour that appeared the few times her name had come up in conversation. It took a while for the team to warm up to me, but even then they were still polite and professional. But for a good six weeks, I felt a little... left out, which sounded almost juvenile, but it was the truth. It didn’t take an expert in behaviour to notice that the BAU team were like a family, and after just losing a member made it easy to understand their hesitance in letting me into the fold.

I don’t know what made the decision for them, but it seemed that my relationship with each and every one of them went from polite and professional to open, honest and familial overnight. But I wasn’t going to complain, they were the most wonderful people I’d ever met and I was grateful for being accepted into their little family. There was only one problem, and that was Aaron Hotchner. The man was incredibly stern-faced, hardly ever smiled and he led the team like a drill Sargent. He had the most expressive eyes I’d ever seen, when he was actually willing to let his guard down for people to read them, he cared deeply, deeper than anyone would ever think, and I swear to god he knew about the crush I’d had on him since the moment I’d been introduced by Strauss on my first day at the BAU. That had been almost a year ago now, and my feelings had flourished, the flowers blossoming, the roots digging deep inside me to a point that extraction would cause me immense physical pain. I was in love with my boss, and I was certain he knew. How could he not? He was the unit chief of a team of profilers for goodness sake. And after we’d all witnessed JJ unsuccessfully hide her relationship with Will from us, well let’s just say I wouldn't be surprised if the whole team knew too. But I tried not to give it too much thought, after all Hotch was married and he was my boss. It wasn’t like I could do anything about it if I wanted to.

I needed to get over it, that much was clear. Which was why I was open to accepting Garcia’s offer to set me up on a blind date with one of her gamer friends. It could be good, couldn’t it?

‘Garcia, I swear I’m never letting you set me up on a date again!’ I complained, waving my hands around in my frustration, but somehow managing not to spill a drop of the coffee in my right hand.

‘Come on, Y/N! Randell is a catch!’ Garcia argued, linking her arm through my left in an attempt to calm my erratic movements.

‘A catch? Honey, there’s a reason they say you should never trust people you meet on the internet!’ I quirked my brow, lightly elbowing her when I noticed the smile she was trying to hold back as we stepped into he conference room, ‘you knew he was a creep!’

‘No I didn’t, I swear. Seriously though, what happened?’ She asked as we took our seats at the round table— we were the first to arrive for the briefing.

‘He was only capable of talking about sex, which was ironic because he kept flinching and crossing his legs every time I so much as reached for my wine.’ I rolled my eyes, sighing, ‘not to be overly negative but that guy wouldn’t have lasted thirty seconds if I’d taken him up on his offer.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She winced, her expression softening with sympathy.

‘Oh, I’m only getting started, he kept degrading me.’ I took a sip of my coffee to get my anger under control, ‘saying things like: “I’ll bet a girl like you likes it real hard and rough, huh? I’ll bet you’re a dirty little slut.” And then he proceeded to ask me to call him “Daddy” so I threw his wine in his face and left.’

‘His wine?’ Pen frowned, and I didn’t notice the way she glanced over my shoulder and took a sip of her own hot beverage to hide her smile.

‘I’d already drunk mine.’ I shrugged, my smile becoming a full grin when Penny started to laugh.

‘Well I’m sorry that he was a jerk, Y/N.’ Garcia said, her voice sincere once she’d recovered from the humour of my story, ‘he may or may not find a hardware wiping virus on his computer at some point today as a punishment.’

That startled a laugh out of me, and she chuckled with me too, my hand squeezing hers briefly in gratitude before releasing her.

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s my own fault really.’ I bit my lip, knowing that she could have put the perfect guy in front of me last night and I still would have found him to be lacking in some way. Because he wouldn’t have been him. I shook that errant thought away before it could show on my face.

‘We’ll find someone for you, Y/N.’ She patted my arm and lowered her voice as the rest of the team joined us, ‘or at the very least someone for you to blow off some steam with.’ She winked.

Her sudden suggestiveness took me off guard, so much so that if it hadn’t been for me raising my cup back to my mouth in time, there would have been coffee all over the round table, and a few agents sitting around it. I gave her a look that was a mixture of annoyance and mirth, but she only winked again as I wiped my mouth free of the excess beverage that had spilled onto my chin.

‘Are you gonna share what you’re talking about over there, Baby girl?’ Derek asked, a smirk painted on his lips as his eyes flittered in between the both of us.

Garcia and I shared a look that was full of mischief and mayhem— the usual concoction that resulted in us being together. Pen leaned forward and opened her mouth to say something that was going to be incredibly suggestive and most likely inappropriate, but as if he sensed a verbal war he wouldn’t be able to stop unless he got ahead of it, Hotch bought the conversation to a stop.

‘We’re going to Louisiana. They need our help with an unsub who’s mutilating women aged 25-30.’ He started, his authoritative tone garnering the teams attention immediately— I personally felt incapable of not paying attention when he spoke, he was so... captivating.

I felt myself subconsciously crossing my legs together, a vain attempt to quell the ache that started to form whenever I lost myself in his dominant personality. I pulled my eyes from him with great effort, and focused on the file in front of me, but it was for nought as my mind ran wild. Generally alpha personalities guaranteed a handful of the same qualities: arrogance, narcissism, dominance to a point of control and over confidence. I’d met, and even dated, more than my fair share of men with those same characteristics. But Aaron was different, and up until I’d met him I had no idea there was another kind of alpha male. He wasn’t arrogant, he was most certainly intelligent and confident within himself, but not to the point of parading his greatness in front of anyone and everyone in an attempt to boost his ego. He was quietly confident, but still willing to listen to others, still willing to accept blame if he ever did something wrong. He was about as far from a narcissist as you could get— getting him to talk about himself for more than a few sentences was taxing, he was much more comfortable and happy with the topic of conversation being on anyone but him. And as for being dominant... he most certainly gave of an aura of authority that you couldn’t help but notice or pay attention to, but rather than be flippantly commanding like the other alpha males I’d known, he always took other’s feelings into account. In other words— he’d never make you go through with something he could tell you wouldn't be comfortable with. Without meaning to, I couldn’t help but think Aaron Hotchner would most definitely be dominant in the bedroom— but I had a feeling it would be tailored to whoever he was with. He was a caring dominant personality, I was sure of it, he was the type of alpha personality to get off on getting his bed partner off, to care about fulfilling her fantasies and desires. The type to care about keeping his partner safe, to care for them physically, mentally and emotionally.

Hayley was a lucky woman.

I shook myself out of my thoughts with a sigh, actually taking in the details of the case in front of me and hearing Reid reel off the square footage of Louisiana.

‘Seeing as we already have three victims I’ll get started in a geographical profile when we arrive.’ Spencer finished, offering Hotch a small smile as he offered an approving nod.

‘Very good. Wheels up in ten, if this unsub follows the same pattern, he’s about to kidnap his next victim. Time is of the essence.’ Hotch said, I didn’t notice him frown when I didn’t catch his eye before leaving the room like I usually did— I just couldn’t bring myself to look at him just yet given how my thoughts had wondered off.

I needed to get my reactions around him under control, because this was getting ridiculous.

‘He has to be finding the girls at this club, following them home, and kidnapping them before they get their keys in the door.’ Morgan said, running a hand over his head as an exhausted sigh escaped him.

I leaned next to him on the table, my arm knocking against his as a silent offer of comfort, he nudged me back and smiled with gratitude.

‘I think our best bet is sending someone undercover.’ One of the cops at the Louisiana station proposed, and not for the first time.

At first he’d been dismissed because when we’d arrived, there had already been another woman reported missing, and we knew he kept them for a minimum of three days before disposing of them. So it would have been pointless to send someone out to seduce him when he already had someone to keep him busy. Her body had been found this morning and the friend who’d been with her had confirmed they’d been at the same club as the others the night she’d gone missing. We had no idea who he was, or how to find him, but we knew where he was going to be, now we had to lay the bait, but who was it going to be?

‘It’s not a bad idea.’ Prentiss said, looking over to Hotch, knowing that nothing would go ahead without his approval.

‘We’d need a woman who fits his type.’ Spencer pointed out, looking over to me.

‘Why are you looking at me, Doc?’ I raised a brow, frowning when I noticed everyone’s eyes on me, all except one pair.

‘Y/N, would you be comfortable with going undercover?’ He asked, his brown eyes meeting mine directly for the first time that day.

I felt my heart beat pick up in my chest as I answered, ‘of course.’

His eyes remained on mine for a few more moments, holding me captive while he studied my expression to determine if I meant what I’d said, or if I was simply agreeing because I felt I had to. What felt like hours later, he looked away, and I felt like I could breathe again as I lifted my coffee cup to my lips to hide my shallow breaths as I worked to return my heart rate to normal.

‘JJ and I will go with her, all the other victims were in groups, it would be suspicious if she was on her own.’ Prentiss murmured, her words somehow still sounding like a question even though she hadn’t worded it as one.

‘Fine.’ Hotch nodded, sweeping out of the room and leaving the team to prepare for what was most definitely going to be a long night.

‘I look ridiculous.’ I complained, not for the first time but I couldn't help it— I had never wore such revealing clothes and I felt exposed and stupid.

‘No, you look like a knock out, trust us we know what we’re doing.’ JJ said, her voice gentle and patient— I assumed she could see the discomfort in my eyes.

‘Don’t forget, we need to attract the unsub’s attention, and all of his victims so far have been party girls so we need to appeal to his type.’ Prentiss reminded me and I sighed, closed my eyes and resigned myself to my fate.

This isn’t about me. This is about stopping a psychopath and preventing anymore women dying.

‘Okay, thank you both.’ I offered them a shaky smile as I stood, trying to walk in the heels they’d dressed me in. It took a few minutes of pacing, but I got it.

Before I knew it, we were heading to the club the victims were last seen in, JJ and Prentiss linking both of my arms, and a deceivingly bright smile plastered on my lips. This was going to be hell. But I sucked it up and headed over to the bar, signalling for three drinks that were most likely going to be nursed for as long as possible. I was waiting for my drinks to be prepared when I felt a presence behind me. I attempted to ignore it until I felt a hand on my waist, the feeling sending a shiver of dread up my spine. I looked up into the darkest eyes I’d ever seen, and I didn’t just mean in colour, though they were a dark brown, but there was no emotion behind his iris’. They were completely void of any emotion aside from a sadistic shimmer that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. This was the unsub, I was sure of it.

‘What might your name be?’ He asked, his hand moving back and forth on my waist.

I knew from the profile that this man’s ego led him to kill when he was rejected by the women he sought out, so I took great pleasure in twisting his arm behind his back.

‘My name is none of your business.’ I sneered, gathering up the drinks and carrying them over to the table the three of us commandeered in the corner.

‘We saw you had company.’ Emily commented, her tone light but her eyes held a seriousness to it that hinted at what she was really asking.

‘That’s him. I’m sure of it.’ I said, relaying what had happened to them, and the rest of the team on the comms.

‘Give it thirty minutes, then leave. Remember, you’re leaving separately. Y/N first and we’ll see if he follows you.’ Hotch murmured, his voice a quiet, seductive tone in my ear.

I took a deep breath and pushed away the cocktail in front of me— anymore alcohol and I would end up revealing more than I wanted. I knew from experience that I was a chatty drunk, and incapable of keeping any secrets to myself.

‘Got it.’ JJ answered for all of us and we lapsed into casual conversation for the next half hour.

Despite my intentions not to, half of my drink was gone before I’d even realised I was drinking it, but by that point I couldn’t remember why alcohol wasn’t a great idea.

‘So what happened with that asshole Garcia set you up with anyway?’ Emily asked, sipping her own cocktail.

I snorted, ‘he was awful, honestly. Wouldn’t talk about anything but sex, but every time I reached for my drink he flinched and kept shifting in his seat.’

‘No stamina there then.’ JJ snorted and Em and I nodded in agreement.

‘Honestly I’m just so sick of it.’ I rolled my eyes, swirling my drink around with my straw, ‘I can’t remember the last time I had satisfying sex.’

JJ snorted into her drink and Emily loudly agreed with me.

‘Tell me about it! The ones who are loud and proud about being able to get a woman off have—.’ Em started but I cut her off, happy someone knew what I meant.

‘NO IDEA WHAT THEY’RE DOING!’ I held my hand out for a high five, and sober I would have never considered high-fiving over something like this, but drunk me thought it was a great idea and apparently Emily agreed as she slapped her palm against mine eagerly.

‘Well, lucky for me I got one of the good ones.’ JJ smirked, flashing her wedding rings.

‘Lucky bitch,’ I gave her a mock glare that had her winking at me.

‘Seriously, you don’t know how lucky you are. Good guys are so unique and rare.’ Emily sighed, ‘I went on a date last month with a guy who spent the whole night talking to my breasts and when he was clawing at me when he dropped me back off at my place, I ended up kneeing him in the crotch.’

‘Men our age suck.’ I squeezed her hand in agreement, ‘most of them only care about getting themselves off, some to the point of aggression if you try and push them off when you’re not enjoying it.’

‘Amen.’ Emily cheered.

‘Do they know we can still hear them?’ Spence’s voice over the comms had us all breaking into laughter.

‘Sorry Spence.’ JJ apologised, wiping the moisture from her eyes.

‘No don’t apologise!’ I shook my head, holding up my hand to stop them from commenting, ‘he’s right, it’s sexist to exclude him from the conversation, do you have anything to add, Doc?’

I could practically hear him blushing from inside the club as he floundered for a moment, and someone— probably Derek— chuckled.

‘I know that in 2015, only 6 percent of women said that they always had an orgasm during penile-vaginal intercourse, 40 percent said they had an orgasm nearly always, 16 percent of women had an orgasm half the time, and 38 percent had one infrequently.’ Spencer reeled off, always eager to share information he’d absorbed.

‘Thank you, Spencer for proving my point.’ I smiled, finishing my drink, ‘you’re herby invited to the next girls night.’

Emily and JJ cheered, our glasses clinking together as they finished their drinks too, signalling for two more.

‘Thanks,’ Reid mumbled, actually sounding quite touched at the invitation.

I cleared my throat and stood, careful to keep the nerves now bubbling in my gut off my expression.

‘Well ladies, this has been fun, but I have to go.’ I pretended to pout, winking when they groaned in disappointment, ‘sorry, I have an early day tomorrow. Goodnight, I love you both.’

I hugged them before I departed, and both murmured a “be careful” into my ear before I left them. As I walked out of the club and headed for my car, I couldn't help but put my phone to my ear to talk to the others— the further away I got, the quieter I became and the more nervous I was.

‘Hey, this is unexpected, it’s so nice to hear from you!’ I greeted brightly, being careful to keep my eyes trained forward—if he thought I was on to him I might scare him off.

‘You’re doing great, sweetness.’ Derek murmured, his voice calm and comforting, though it didn’t dissipate my nerves completely.

‘That’s amazing, congratulations. I’ll bet your fiancée is so proud of you!’ I gushed, unlocking the rental car they’d commandeered for me and sliding inside, tossing my phone into my purse and placing it onto the passenger seat and putting on my seatbelt.

‘Just a little further, Y/N.’ Hotch’s voice soothed my anxiety like a balm and I felt my white knuckle grip ease a little from the steering wheel as I settled into the drivers set, suddenly more at ease.

‘Thank you.’ I murmured, hoping he didn’t hear how breathy my voice sounded as I headed for the address that had been pre-programmed into the GPS.

I drove in comfortable silence, knowing the team was on the comms offering me a sense of security. I was about five minutes from arriving when a cop car lit up behind me, wanting me to pull over.

‘Uhhh... did we clear the Louisiana police?’ I asked, not pulling over just yet.

‘Why?’ Hotch asked, his voice urgent.

‘Because someone is trying to pull me over now. What if that’s how he got them? Coming to the club in his cruiser and following them to pull them over when they were on their way home?’ I suggested, trying not to panic as my heart suddenly felt like it was beating in my throat. It made sense, and I might have recognised him had I been paying more attention to the cops around the station. It made me wonder if he knew me, but then again I’d barely been at the precinct the past few days, Hotch had me on activities that led to me being outside the station.

‘Y/N, listen to me do not pull over. Garcia just checked with Louisiana police department and there aren’t supposed to be any cars in patrol in that area.’ Hotch ordered, and I wondered if I imagined the tremor of concern in his voice as I sped up a little.

‘If I don’t pull over then we won’t have anything on him, remember? We have no way to tie him to the women he killed, and if he’s a cop that makes sense. If he doesn’t take me, he’ll try to take someone else, someone who doesn’t have an FBI team and SWAT to back her up.’ I argued, but I didn’t like it anymore than he did.

He didn’t respond for a long time and my heart beat became so loud that it was ringing in my ears. I almost didn’t hear Hotch when he responded.

‘Give it one minute and then pull over, I’m redirecting SWAT to your location and we’ll be there as fast as we can. Keep him talking, Y/N and don’t hang up the phone.’ He murmured, his voice dripping with so much authority that it made the hairs on my arms stand up.

‘Yes sir.’ I answered, watching the clock on my dashboard and pulling over exactly one minute later.

I put a bright smile on my face as the same man from the bar came up to my window, signalling for me to wind it down. I lowered it an inch. His smile was dark and I had to physically hold myself back from flinching.

‘Hello there darlin,’ he greeted, his attempt to be charming having the opposite effect, ‘I didn’t just see you come out of that club back there, did I?’

I pursed my lips, deliberating on whether to lie or not, I knew he’d find a way to get me out of the car either way, but I needed to buy myself some time.

‘You did, officer.’ I admitted, biting my lip in what I hoped was an enticing way, ‘but I only drank water.’

‘You wouldn’t mind proving that, would you?’ His hands rested on his hips as he pushed his chest out, attempting to emphasise his brawny shoulders, but he just looked like he was pecking like a chicken.

‘Prove it how?’ I attempted ignorance.

‘Take a breathalyser test for me, if you’re under the limit, I’ll send you on your way.’ He winked, his eyes glinting dangerously at the prospect of what he could do to me as soon as I stepped out of the car.

‘How long would that take, exactly?’ I asked, but I wasn’t talking to him.

‘We’re two minutes out, Y/N.’ Derek promised.

‘No more than five minutes.’ The man promised and with a sigh, I climbed out of the safety of my car, slamming the door shut loud enough to be heard over the comms.

‘Okay then.’ My words ended in a scream, because even though I was hyper aware of every move he made, the fucker was fast and had stabbed a needle into my arm before I could so much as attempt to defend myself.

‘What did you just—what did you—what’s happening?’ I groaned, my voice consumed with panic as I started to lose feeling in my limps. He caught me under the arms when I fell forward and laid me on the back of his cop car.

‘You and me are going to have so much fun, not that you deserve it, you uptight bitch.’ He snarled, his hand wrapping around my throat and squeezing just enough to make me aware how easy it would be for him to kill me then and there.

‘No,’ My eyes were wet with tears as I felt his hand roaming across my chest, ‘stop.’

He grinned, his eyes reflecting how much pleasure he was taking from this, and he watched my expression as his hand started drifting lower and lower...

I gasped in relief when he was roughly pulled off me. I couldn’t lift my head, but I heard the thump as he was pinned to the car and cuffed, most likely by Derek.

‘I can’t m-move.’ I said, worried that my voice would be to low to hear as even talking was taxing and took maximum effort.

‘Y/N,’ Hotch’s voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I noted the relief in his voice as his hands wrapped around my waist and lifted me into sitting position.

‘I can’t move.’ I murmured, as if he didn't know that already, my forehead rested against his shoulder as my body slumped forward.

‘I know. You’re going to be okay, there’s an ambulance on the way,’ he reassured me, and I must have been on some heavy drugs because I could have sworn I felt him stroking my hair.

‘Will you stay with me?’ I said, fear returning to my voice at the prospect of being in a cold, sterile hospital without a familiar, comforting face.

‘Of course I will.’ His warm breath against my ear would have made me shiver, had I been able to.

It was crazy how easily I slipped into unconsciousness with Aaron’s arms around me, holding me up and murmuring reassurances into my ear. His hand continually stroked over my hair, and I wondered if I fell asleep because of the drugs, or because Hotch had soothed me so well that I was powerless to stop it.

Months passed after the case in Louisiana, and nothing much changed, aside from Hotch announcing to the team that he and Hayley were getting a divorce. And I couldn’t muster up anything other than sadness for him, despite my nowhere near platonic feelings for him, I knew how much he loved her, how much it must have been killing him to be separated from her. So I tried to help in anyway I could, I took half his case files so he could go home sooner after cases and be able to spend a little time with his son before he was put to bed. I bought home cooked meals for him to take home, knowing he was less likely to take care of himself if he didn’t have a wife and son to cook for. And the whole team made an effort to get him to come out with us at least once a month. Usually I avoided the drinks on those particular outings, not knowing what my liquor fuelled brain might make me say to him, but tonight was one of the rare nights he said no, having promised Jack he would swing by and listen to his stories about his trip to the zoo.

No one had been able to argue with that, and after we all went home to change— well JJ, Emily and I got ready at Penny’s place— we met up at our usual bar and started ordering the drinks. The conversation flowed with ease, and as the alcohol intake increased, the topics became more... private... between the girls anyway. Reid, Morgan and Rossi were having a separate conversation of their own about past cases by the sounds of it.

‘What’s your number?’ Pen asked.

‘My number? You have it in your phone!’ I frowned, genuinely confused over what she was asking.

‘Not your phone number, the number of people you’ve had sex with!’ Emily shoved my shoulder playfully, the other girls giggling when I flushed in embarrassment at the miscommunication.

‘Three.’ I held my fingers up for JJ, who was furthest away from me and possibly unable to hear due to the loud music.

‘26’ Emily said, winking and throwing back a shot of whiskey.

‘14’ JJ chirped.

‘11.’ Garcia admitted last.

‘Wow, I’m such a prude.’ I mumbled, taking my shot and throwing it back.

‘Nah, you’re young! At 25 my number was around the same as yours!’ Garcia assured me, downing her shot with a grimace.

‘I’ll get the next round!’ I announced, standing from the table and trying not to fall on my face as I walked in the heels JJ insisted I wear.

They were strappy platform heels and apparently they went perfectly with the flowing black skater dress I was wearing. It was a lacy material and I loved it because it was dressy but also comfortable. I reached the bar and ordered another round of the usual for our table, asking for it to be put on our tab. The bartender assured me he’d have my order ready in a few minutes and I’d just slid in a stool to wait when I felt someone groping my ass.

I turned around so fast I almost gave myself whip lash, ‘hey, asshole what exactly do you think you’re doing?’ The first thing I noticed about him was the cockiness that seemed to seep from his every pore. His hair was a bleach blonde, his eyes a cold blue and his arrogant smile made my hand twitch.

‘Nothing sweetheart, pure accident I swear.’ He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. I assumed he was trying to draw attention to his obviously athletic frame, but honestly I didn't think there was anything he could do to make himself attractive to me.

‘Hmm, see it doesn’t happen again.’ I warned, glaring at him, but his smile didn't waver, of course it didn't. This was the kind of man who saw women as property, as a plaything for him to do what he wanted with, whether they enjoyed it or not. To him, I was inferior because of my gender, and honestly there were few other things that boiled my blood like sexism.

He stepped closer, so close that I could smell the excessive amount of cologne he was wearing, it made my nose scrunch up in distaste that he refused to see, because as far as he was concerned he was god’s gift to women.

‘Back off.’ I said, preparing to defend myself if he laid a finger on me.

He laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. He opened his mouth to say something but it snapped shut again when he spied something over my shoulder. I studied his expression for a moment, and when I saw the genuine fear in his eyes I determined he wasn’t faking just to deter my attention. I was just about to turn to see for myself what was scaring him, I idly wondered if Rossi or Derek had seen the commotion and come to offer assistance, but before I could I was overwhelmed with a familiar scent. It was the woodsy cologne that I’d gifted him for Christmas, having found it and insisting that it smelled of Hotch. It smelled comforting, safe and strong. That was the scent that surrounded me, and I felt my eyes flutter shut for a second, overcome with the calm that came over me. When he wrapped an arm around my waist, I was sure my knees would have buckled if I hadn’t been close enough to grab onto the bar for support. I vaguely registered his deep, authoritative voice saying something to the arrogant blonde in front of us, but all I could think about was how warm he was and how good the heat felt seeping through my dress and onto my skin. So good.

‘Y/N?’ His voice bought me back, his tone soft with concern and a little humour.

‘Sorry, I was out of it for a moment there.’ I shook my head, knowing I should step out of his hold, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

‘Are you alright?’ He asked, his free hand twitched and I wondered if that was because he wanted to touch me with that one too.

‘I’m fine.’ My chin jutting in the direction the boy had been standing, ‘but for future reference, that is an example of the assholes men my age can be.’ I mused, signalling for one more beer for the new addition to the party.

‘Hopefully he’ll grow out of it.’ He said, his tone was dry and I found myself laughing with him as we headed back to the table.

‘What took you so long, sweetness? I’m dying of thirst here!’ Derek complained, chuckling when I rolled my eyes at his antics.

I placed the tray in the middle of the table and everyone helped themselves. I tried not to show how pleased I was that Aaron ended up sat next to me, his arm over the back of the booth and close enough to my shoulders that I could feel the heat radiating from him. As everyone drifted to their own conversations, I found myself falling back to talk to Hotch, his dark eyes focused on me and only me. That was the thing about him; he had this way about him, of making you feel like the only one in the room when he looked at you. I didn't know if he had this effect on everyone, or if it was just me, but either way it was overwhelming.

‘How was Jack’s trip to the zoo?’ I asked, shifting a little to face him better, and trying not to visibly show how my heartbeat quickened as my legs became pressed up against his.

‘He loved it and he’s already begging for his birthday party to be there.’ He chuckled, his brown eyes sparkling with the fondness he held for his son.

‘His birthday isn’t until October though, I’m sure he’ll change his mind a million times before then.’ I reminded him, smiling because I knew how wonderfully indecisive Jack could be, as all kids his age were.

Hotch stared at me for a moment, and for all my BAU skills as a profiler, I couldn’t identify the soft emotion swirling around in his eyes. Before either of us could attempt to continue the conversation, Rossi commandeered Aaron’s attention for help in recalling details of a particular case. I leant back and just observed everyone, happy to be silent for a moment and enjoy the atmosphere and multiple conversations around me without actually participating. And if I was secretly happy that Hotch’s arm stated behind me on the back of the booth, well no one needed to know.

As the night wore on, people started to leave. First Reid, then JJ and Prentiss, then Derek and Penny, until it was Rossi, Hotch and me. But when the exhaustion started to seep in despite my buzz, I decided it were best if I went home too.

‘I’m calling it guys.’ I announced, standing and stretching out my tired limbs before I grabbed my purse and jacket.

‘How are you getting home?’ Hotch asked, standing with me.

‘I’m gonna call an Uber.’ I said, reaching into my bag for my phone, but his hand on my wrist stopped me.

‘Let me drive you, I’m heading out now anyway and it’s on my way home.’ He murmured, his eyes boring into mine. I could see that he really wanted me to accept his offer, but I knew if I said no he’d drop it and let me go.

‘Okay, if you don’t mind.’ I smiled, much preferring to get a ride home with someone I knew and trusted rather than have to wait in the cold for a stranger to pick me up.

‘Do you need a ride, Dave?’ Hotch asked as he slid on his own jacket.

I missed Rossi’s knowing smile as he answered, ‘nah, I’ve been on water for the most of the night, I’m fine to drive.’

‘Okay, see you in a few days!’ I kissed his cheek and walked with Aaron out of the bar, wondering if I was imagining the warmth from his hand seeping through my dress into my lower back.

He led me to his car, opened the passenger door for me and gently closed it before moving to the drivers side. I felt a smile form on my lips at the chivalrous act— I didn’t know people still did that anymore— and I was surprised at the butterflies that formed in my stomach from his actions. He turned the heat up as he drove, noticing the subtle way I was rubbing my upper arms in order to generate some warmth. I found myself falling asleep, which was surprising seeing as I had trouble falling asleep when I knew someone could see me. Call me crazy, but it was the truth. I didn’t realise just how close I was to being completely immersed into unconsciousness until we arrived at my apartment and Hotch murmured my name, softly, sweetly.

‘Hmm?’ I jolted awake, my cheek feeling like ice from where it had been resting against the window.

‘We’re here.’ He smiled, and if I’d been more awake, more focused, I would have noticed the fondness behind it.

‘Thank you.’ I blinked, trying to wake myself up a little more, ‘love you.’ I said, stepping out of the car and into my apartment building, which was coincidentally the same building as Emily’s. I was on the eighth floor and she was on the third.

It wasn’t until I was tucked up in bed, on the brink of falling asleep again that I realised what I’d said. To Hotch. To my boss. To the man I was secretly in love with. Suddenly completely awake, I sat up, my eyes wide with mortification.

It’s fine, you tell the team you love them all the time, he wouldn’t have interpreted it any other way. He wouldn’t. I took a deep calming breath and lay back down again.

It would be fine. Right?

When we returned to work, I came in a little earlier, determined to catch Hotch alone and offer him the cookies I’d made for him and Jack as a thank you for the ride home he’d given me. I also wanted to clear the air, test for any awkwardness that might be lingering from my surprising declaration. I was still clinging onto the hope that he hadn’t seen it as anything more than me confessing platonic love.

I placed my coat and bag onto my desk and continued on to Hotch’s office, expecting him to be here already. But I was surprised to find it empty. I frowned when I noticed his coat and briefcase weren’t here yet, meaning he wasn’t somewhere else in the building. With a disappointed sigh I placed the box of cookies on his desk and took a post it note and pen from one of his drawers and scribbled a note before sticking it onto the box.

Hotch,

A thank you for taking me home the other night, I really appreciate it.

I made chocolate chip and walnut for you.

The chocolate chip ones I decorated in a spider man theme are for Jack, and you if he wants to share.

Thanks again,

Y/N.

I walked to the small kitchenette and poured myself a cup of coffee before heading to my desk. Seeing as no one would be in for another hour and a half— at the earliest— I decided to get started on some paperwork. I was surprised at how quickly I got through it, being as a stack so large would have taken me all night any other day. I guessed doing it first thing allowed for maximum concentration, and I was just moving the final file over to the done pile when the first agent arrived.

‘Spence!’ I cheered, my smile melting into a sheepish expression when he jumped, ‘sorry! I’m just so happy to see another person, I’ve been here since 7 and the empty room was really starting to freak me out.’

He chuckled, placing his satchel and jacket on his desk before coming over to mine and accepting the hug I offered him. I loved hugging Spence; he was almost a foot taller than me, so when his arms wrapped around me he made me feel tiny and safe. He was like the twin I’d always wanted— we were similar in age, we liked the same movies and we were both a little socially awkward and trying to figure out who we were.

‘Why did you come in so early?’ He asked after we’d pulled apart, the both of us heading to the coffee machine, his arm around my shoulders.

‘I made cookies for Hotch and Jack and wanted to drop them off before the team could see and complain I hadn’t made them any.’ I told him, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

‘Smart.’ The genius snorted, pouring some coffee into my mug and then his own.

‘What did you get up to yesterday?’ I wondered as we headed back to my desk—I’d actually seen him on one of the days we’d had off as we’d had a Star Wars marathon. It was something we made a point to do at least once every three months.

‘Nothing really, just boring domestic stuff.’ He shrugged, wheeling his chair over to my desk.

‘Same, well that and baking,’ I shrugged.

‘What’s the matter?’ He explained when I frowned in confusion, ‘you sighed, that’s your tell.’

I sighed again, biting my lip and looking over to Hotch’s still dark office, ‘can you keep a secret?’

‘You know I can, Y/N.’ He assured me, and I knew he was right.

‘I’m having certain... feelings for someone I shouldn’t be, and I’m just struggling to get over it.’ I admitted, looking down at my coffee cup to avoid his observant eyes.

‘You mean Hotch?’ He clarified, and my gaze found his, shocked and surprised at his casual question.

‘You know?’ I squeaked, putting my mug down before I dropped it, ‘does anyone else?’

‘I don’t think so, I mean I’ve known for a while now, but I didn’t say anything because I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know.’ He shrugged and his calm attitude quelled my anxiety a little.

‘Okay well yes, I’m in love with Hotch and I don’t know how to make it stop.’ I sighed, running a hand through my hair, ‘I know he’ll never look at me that way, plus he’s my boss everyone would see it as inappropriate and that’s not even factoring in the age gap. I’ve tried dating other men but I just compare them to him and find them lacking, or they end up being total jerks and well you know about the guy Pen set me up with.’

He nodded, his brow crinkled with sympathy.

‘I know what you’re going through. Well, kind of.’ He bit his lip, running a hand through his chocolate locks, ‘it took me a while to get over JJ.’

‘I didn’t know you liked her.’ I admitted softly, my hand reaching out to squeeze his.

‘I did, for about a year, until I realised that she was never going to see me that way. Then she met Will and had Henry so it was easier for me to move on.’ He explained, taking a sip of his coffee, ‘how long have you been in love with him?’

‘I’ve had feelings for him since I met him, but I never really paid them any mind until we were on our way back from a case on the jet. Everyone was asleep and Hotch was on his way back from the bathroom, on his way he stopped and covered JJ and Prentiss with blankets, and got you a pillow and put it under your head. When he saw that I was still awake he just smiled at me and sat down next to Rossi. He didn’t say a word and in that moment I realised I loved him.’ My voice was low, but still loud enough for Spencer to hear, and though neither of us knew it, it was loud enough for Hotch to hear from the kitchenette, neither of us aware of his presence, ‘that was almost two years ago.’

‘You should tell him.’ Spence said, his hand entwining with mine, knowing the warmth of his hand would offer me some comfort.

‘Why? It won’t change anything for the good. He’ll tell me I’m his subordinate, that a relationship would be inappropriate, that he’d never be interested even if I didn’t work for him. I’ll be heartbroken and embarrassed and it could change the whole team dynamic. I don’t want that to happen.’ I sighed, looking down and fighting to stop any tears from falling. But like I said, Spence was like my twin, he knew when I was upset and I was bundled up in his arms before I could take another breath. The tears fell in earnest then as I sobbed against his chest, knowing I needed this moment to pull myself together before the rest of the team arrived.

‘So what are you going to do?’ He murmured against my hair.

‘Suffer in silence and hope I don’t die alone.’ I said, sarcasm heavy in my tone, but it wasn’t enough to completely disguise the fear in my choice.

‘Hey,’ he pulled back to look into my eyes, to allow me to see the sincerity behind his next words, ‘no matter what, you’ll never be alone, I promise you that. We’re all a family here, Y/N. You know that.’

A soft smile formed on my lips, ‘thanks Spence. You’re the best twin ever.’

We chuckled together and I pulled away to wipe the moisture from my cheeks before looking at the time on my watch. 8:45. The team would be arriving soon.

‘I’m gonna go and clean up.’ I murmured leaning over to pick up my bag and missing Hotch making his escape to the hallway so he wouldn’t be seen when I stood up.

‘Okay.’ Spence’s voice was soft and he returned the smile I sent him as I left for the bathroom.

By the time I’d ran some cold water over my face, reapplied my make up and ran a brush through my hair, I looked like I had when I first stepped through the doors this morning. No evidence of my morning heart-to-heart with Dr Spencer Reid remained as I made my way back to my desk, placing my bag onto my chair and joining the others in the conference room.

‘Sorry, I was just in the bathroom.’ I murmured, feeling the embarrassed flush form on my cheeks. Only I could arrive two hours early and still be late for the briefing.

‘It’s no problem,’ Hotch replied, nodding at Garcia to continue relaying the case.

I didn’t notice his eyes flicker back to me after I’d opened the case file, his dark eyes swimming with adoration, concern and sadness for a moment before his guards rose again and his attention shifted back to Garcia.

Reid however noticed the glance and felt his heart squeeze with hope. Y/N might not have noticed Hotch’s behaviour towards her, but he certainly had. He doubted anyone else on the team had observed the same things he had, because his eidetic memory didn’t allow him to miss anything. The glances, the fond looks, the concern for her during cases, how his expression softened at her happiness, how he made sure that there was always a supply of chocolate pop tarts in the kitchenette at work, because Y/N often forgot to eat during cases and he knew the sweet treat would offer her at least some nutrition and a pick-me-up for the particularly hard days.

Y/N didn’t know about any of it, and he’d considered telling her, but he knew she wouldn't believe him, and also it wasn’t his place to reveal. If Hotch wanted her to know, he’d tell her himself, he didn’t want to cause her any pain if he did reveal his observations only for Hotch to shoot it down and hurt her. He shook his head and focused on the briefing, reiterating some statistics on Florida.

He just hoped it all worked out for his friends. They deserved happiness.

A weary sigh left my lips as I wondered to my desk, eyeing the stack of paperwork and deciding to stay late and get it done; it was better than letting it build up to obscene levels. We’d just returned from Florida after ten days tracking a man who kidnapped families, held them for a week and then murdered them all. We’d managed to catch him before he killed the new family he’d abducted and I was beyond relieved, as was the rest of the team as we always were when we managed to save someone.

I glanced over to my right, eyeing Emily’s tired eyes with a soft smile. She’d stayed behind to finish paperwork like I had, but I could tell she was about ten minutes away from passing out. Seeing as I’d already managed to finish the few I’d accumulated on my desk, I wheeled my chair over to her desk and snatched up her remaining six files. It would take me another hour and a half, but it was worth it if she’d go home to sleep.

‘Y/N, what are you doing?’ She yawned, pushing her chair away from her desk.

‘Go home, Em.’ I told her, my voice gentle but firm. I continued when I saw her hesitate, despite her desire to take me up on the offer, ‘I’m serious, go home and snuggle your cat. Get some sleep.’

‘Are you sure?’ She murmured, another yawn escaping her lips.

‘I’m sure. Get outta here.’ I winked, turning and hiding my own yawn in my fist as I placed her files on my desk.

‘Thanks Y/N. Love you.’ She hugged me from behind and left with a kiss to my cheek.

‘You better.’ I yelled after her, smiling at her tired laughter.

I turned and started to work, I vaguely registered the elevator open and close as I filled in the report efficiently and quickly. I was determined to get through the remaining files before the exhaustion seeped in and took me over, too. I could feel it lingering in the back of my mind, just waiting to strike, but I hoped my concentration and the coffee I was drinking would hold it off long enough for me to finish. I also put Taylor Swift’s new album ‘Folklore’ on shuffle quietly in the back ground, hoping to prevent the empty floor freaking me out for as long as possible.

I was humming along with my tears ricochet as I signed the last file, tossing it onto the separate finished pile for Emily. I placed them back onto her desk and sat back down at mine, yawning as I turned off the music and just took a moment to relax. Of course in hindsight, that was a mistake, because I was exhausted and vulnerable to sleep. I didn't remember my head falling to rest on top of my arms, nor did I remember closing my eyes, but the next thing I knew was a large, warm hand on my lower back, gently rubbing back and forth to carefully rouse me from sleep.

‘Hotch?’ I murmured, my voice thick with sleep as I blinked, trying to wake myself properly. I looked down to my watch and saw the time: 2:45am, the last time I’d looked it had been 1am.

‘You should go home and get some sleep.’ He said, his voice gentle as he rubbed my back once more before moving away.

‘Yeah.’ I agreed, standing and stretching, a yawn leaving my mouth as I did, ‘what about you?’

‘I’m heading home now.’ He assured me, a small fond smile on his lips.

‘Okay.’ I offered him a grateful smile as he helped my uncoordinated, still partially unconscious self pull my jacket on.

‘Did you get my cookies?’ I wondered as we stood in the elevator that would take us to the parking garage.

‘I did.’ He smiled again, his eyes sparkling with that soft emotion again. I found myself returning the gesture, hoping he didn’t notice the flush that had most definitely formed on my cheeks.

‘Good.’ I said eventually, my brain apparently incapable of coming up with anything better as I leaned back against the wall, too exhausted to stand properly.

‘Jack will love the Spider-Man cookies. He’s still massively obsessed with him, I’m sure he’ll be his Halloween costume this year.’ Hotch mused, a small smile on his face as he spoke of his son.

People always assumed because Hotch was so authoritative and serious at work, that he wasn’t capable of smiling ever. But that wasn’t the case, sometimes his humour did find a way to integrate itself at work, but whenever a case was over, he became much more relaxed and smiled a lot easier as the responsibility from his job eased from his shoulders for a little while. What I didn’t know, was that he never relaxed around anyone else as much as he did around me.

‘I don’t know.’ I pursed my lips to hide my knowing smile, ‘Jack might have already mentioned what he was going to dress up as for Halloween this year last week over the family picnic.’

Hotch had invited the team to spend some time at the park with him and Jack. Garcia had insisted on turning it into a picnic, and had insisted on my help for preparing the food, seeing as I’d been preparing meals for Hotch, and sometimes Jack, for months now so I knew what they would like. It had been a huge success, and I had been reminded again what an amazing father Aaron was to Jack, he was an amazing kid.

‘Really, what’s that?’ He asked, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

‘Sorry, I’m sworn to secrecy.’ I winked and then blushed immediately after when I remembered exactly who I was winking at. I cleared my throat, ‘but something tells me you’ll love it.’

‘I’m sure I will.’ His voice became soft as his eyes stared into mine, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was talking about something else.

I was as powerless to look away from him as I always was, he had this captivating aura around him, this powerful personality that you couldn't help but submit to. Or maybe it was just me who felt his bewitchment so strongly because of my additional feelings for him. Either way, he didn’t look away from me until the elevator dinged, announcing our arrival to the parking garage. Even then, it took him a moment longer and I found myself wondering what he saw when he looked at me that made him so reluctant to break eye contact. When he did, look away, I became aware of how fast my heart was beating, how erratic my breath had become and as I walked to my car I was overcome with embarrassment, because it was something that wouldn’t have escaped his notice.

‘Goodnight, Y/N.’ He didn’t speak above his usual volume, but it was easy to hear him in the near empty garage.

‘Goodnight, Sir.’ I replied, climbing into my car and taking a deep breath, before turning on my car and driving away.

When Foyet had attacked Hotch, I had been the one to track him down at the hospital. I had refused to leave his side while I waited for him to wake up, tears trailing uncontrollably down my face as I took in his weakened state. I’d hated seeing him so pale, so vulnerable, and when the rest of the team had been informed after the new case had been solved, so had they. It had been awful, even more so when he woke and immediately went into profiler mode. He discovered that Hayley and Jack were in danger and ordered for them to be taken into protective custody before he passed out again. I’d stayed while the team went to retrieve them both, holding his hand until he regained consciousness.

‘Hey,’ he murmured, his dark eyes on mine. I went to remove my hand from his, but he tightened his grip and prevented me from doing so. I saw the soft look in his eyes again and relaxed my grip, looking down to hide my tears.

‘Hey.’ I replied, realising I’d said nothing in response to his greeting. I winced when I heard how rough my voice was, a sure sign I’d been crying.

‘You’ve been crying.’ It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact.

‘Only Aaron Hotchner would be profiling from his hospital bed.’ I teased, my heart feeling a little lighter at the amusement that formed on his expression.

‘Not profiling, just paying attention.’ He said, his voice low and weak and it made my heart hurt.

‘Of course I’ve been crying, you’re in a hospital bed, I walked into your apartment to find blood on the floor, and found you here with multiple stab wounds.’ I frowned, the images replaying themselves through my brain.

‘Hey.’ He squeezed my hand and my gaze returned to his, his dark eyes soft and reassuring, ‘I’m okay, Y/N. A little beat up, but I’m going to live and that’s all that matters.’

I started into his eyes for a long moment before nodding. That’s all that matters. He was right of course, but we both knew the only reason that was true, was because Foyet wasn’t finished with him yet, he wanted to watch him fall apart without his son and ex-wife in his life. But I refused to even think about that, because we were going to find him, and until we did, the whole team would be there for him. We wouldn't let him lose himself like the previous detective Foyet made a deal with had.

‘I’m really glad you’re alive.’ I admitted with a whisper, my eyes glazing over with tears, and I knew that my eyes were essentially an open book in that moment, my guards had crumbled to rubble over the past twenty four hours. I knew he could see just how relieved I was that he was okay, as his eyes glimmered with that unidentifiable emotion again as he squeezed my hand, telling me he was glad too.

My hand stayed grasped in his until Hayley and Jack arrived.

When we found Foyet, it hadn’t been before he’d managed to track down Hayley and Jack. Without a doubt, it had been the hardest case any of us had to work, hearing Hayley tell Hotch goodbye before we heard the gunshots that told us she’d been murdered. We all raced to the house to find Hotch beating Foyet beyond his death, not letting up until I placed a hand on his shoulder, the soft touch making him pause immediately.

‘He’s gone, Hotch.’ I murmured, squeezing his shoulder as he sobbed, ‘where’s Jack?’

‘Jack.’ He sobbed, jerking up from the ground and sprinting upstairs. I followed him, knowing he wouldn’t want Jack to see him the way he was, covered in blood, long enough to ask questions.

He ran to his office, falling to his knees next to the window seat and lifting it up to reveal a smiling and proud Jack.

‘I worked the case, daddy!’ He cheered as Aaron lifted him from inside the seat before pulling the lid back down.

‘You did a good job, buddy.’ He smiled through his tears, gripping his sons shoulders and kissing his forehead.

Prentiss stepped into the room behind me, her eyes soft with sympathy and heartbreak— the same look held in everyone’s eyes in that moment.

‘Hey Jack, why don’t we leave your daddy to clean up, huh? I’ll take you downstairs and you can play with the sirens in the car.’ Prentiss said, forcing her tone to appear cheery.

‘Can I daddy?’ Jack pleaded, his smile bright.

‘Of course buddy,’ Aaron said, squeezing his sons shoulder once more before Jack darted to Prentiss. She took his hand and led him from the room.

I didn’t remember moving to kneel in front of him, but I suddenly was, my arms wrapping around his neck as his head rested onto my shoulder. I held him as he sobbed, his tears trailing down my neck and shoulder, my hands moved comfortingly through his hair as he held me in a rib breaking grip. I held him until his throat was raw from crying, until his tears dried up, until he felt strong enough to pull away from my hold. At that point, no one had stepped into the room. I assumed the team had deduced that Aaron would need some time, and had kept everyone away knowing Hotch would hate anyone to see him vulnerable.

‘I’m so sorry, Hotch.’ I murmured, my eyes glazed over with tears at the sight of his pain.

‘I know.’ I could see the small spark of gratitude in his eyes among the pain, the grief, the worry, ‘we should clean up.’

I frowned at his use of ‘we’ until I glanced down and saw that I was covered in blood too; it must have transferred over as I comforted him. I nodded and took the hand he offered me to help me from the floor. He led moved to the small closet in the corner— I assumed he kept clothes in his office during his marriage to Hayley to avoid disturbing her if he got called into a case at odd hours of the morning. He pulled out a shirt and dress pants for himself before turning to me.

‘I think Hayley still has some clothes here.’ He said and it took me a second to understand what he meant. When I did I shook my head, almost a little to vigorously, but I couldn’t help it, wearing her clothes, when she was lying dead in the other room just didn’t seem right.

Hotch nodded in understanding, handing me a plain grey T-shirt that obviously belonged to him. I wondered into the en-suite, taking off my vest and unbuttoning my blouse before tugging the shirt over my head, tying it in a knot at my waist to make it more form fitting. I then washed my forearms and hands, watching the water run a light pink as I scrubbed away the blood. A few tears fell while I worked, but I forced myself to get it under control before I left the bathroom— this wasn’t about me, it wasn’t acceptable for me to fall apart right then. When I emerged from the bathroom, Aaron entered. As I waited for him to return I took deep and even breaths to keep myself in control of my emotions. While none of the team had been particularly close to Hayley, we all loved her because she’d loved Aaron, our leader, the man we looked up to, the man we trusted to make the tough decisions. And so, his grief, his loss was going to be felt by the entire team. I couldn’t even imagine how this was going to effect Jack, who was young enough to potentially not understand that his mom was never coming home.

I wiped away my tears and cleared my throat as the door opened and Hotch joined me in his office. I could see the concern in his eyes so I must have looked bad. I felt myself shake my head, amazed that even while he was feeling the worst pain he’d ever felt, he still took notice and cared about those around him.

‘Come on, you should get to Jack before he drives the neighbours insane with those sirens.’ I managed a smile that became more genuine at his breathy laugh as we walked down the stairs.

Everything was going to be okay, I’d make sure of it.

It had been six months since Hayley’s passing and life was starting to form a new normal for all of us. The team all offered their help once him and Jack had settled into his apartment. Aaron had respectfully declined, insisting he wanted to find out and adjust to being a single parent without the help. We all acknowledged his wishes, but made a point of us all going on a day trip at any available opportunity— that ended up being once a month.

Despite what he said, I continued to bring in prepared meals to work, more often than before and always for him and Jack, knowing that the last thing he’d have the energy for when he got home would be cooking. Plus, this meant he had more time to spend with his son before he tucked him in, and well I didn’t need to explain why that was a plus. He thanked me gratefully every time, and after a few months, he started inviting me over for dinner with him and Jack at least once a week. Sometimes it would be on one of our rare days off, or it would be after a long case before we started a new one the next day. Either way those dinners became the highlight of my week, primarily because of the company; I loved seeing Hotch relaxed and happy, which he always was around Jack, and I loved hearing Jack’s endless stories about school, or the imaginary world he’d created in one of his drawings. At first the domesticity of the gatherings threw me for a loop, but I continually reminded myself that I was there as a friend and nothing more until it sunk in. And so, we settled into a comfortable routine where I was blissfully ignoring the way my love for him only seemed to grow deeper the more time I spent with him. How was I to know that it was all going to go up in flames?

It was any other Monday morning as I rode the elevator up to the BAU floor, but when I stepped out and noticed everyone already gathered around the conference table, a bad feeling started to form in my gut. I dropped my jacket and purse off at my desk before heading into the room, not liking the way everyone’s eyes turned to me.

‘Am I late?’ I frowned, sliding into my usual seat in between Reid and JJ.

‘No, you’re right on time.’ Rossi assured me, his eyes flickering over to Aaron.

‘What’s going on?’ I asked, noticing there weren’t any files in front of anyone that would indicate a new case.

‘Johnathan Rivers is going to be put to death next week.’ Hotch started, and I felt myself tense at the name, ‘he’s revealed that there are more victims we didn’t even know he’d taken. He’s offered to reveal their names and locations in exchange for something.’ He continued when I didn’t ask, ‘he wants to be interviewed by you and me.’

‘Why?’ I couldn’t fathom why he would want Hotch there. Me I could understand— I was the victim that got away, he probably wanted to taunt me with details of what he’d done to the other women we hadn’t saved, to torture me with the guilt and knowledge of what I’d escaped when so many others hadn’t.

‘I don’t know.’ Aaron admitted, knowing that I wasn’t asking about me, but I got the feeling he wasn’t being completely truthful when his eyes darted from mine after he spoke, ‘if you don’t want to do this, I understand.’

‘Of course I don’t want to do this.’ I huffed a laugh, but it was void of humour, ‘but I’m not going to put me being uncomfortable above providing families with closure. When do we leave?’

He studied my expression for what felt like a long moment before he nodded and dismissed us with, ‘wheels up in ten. The rest of the team will remain behind to assist on any cases that come in.’

Everyone nodded and stood from the table. I headed for the bathroom, needing a moment to compose myself before I grabbed my go back from underneath my desk. I ran my hands underneath the cool water, taking a deep breath and trying to keep the memories from the forefront of my mind.

His sadistic smile. His hands running over my body. Not being able to move to stop him. No. Stop it. Get off me.

My breath caught in my throat and I braced my hands on the sink, ignoring the tears falling down my cheeks in favour of getting my breathing under control. If I didn’t I was going to hyperventilate and have a panic attack. But that knowledge didn’t help, it only seemed to make the invisible noose around my neck grow tighter and I fell to my knees, my vision becoming spotty and the shallow breaths I took feeling like fire in my throat.

‘Y/N.’ I’d know that authoritative voice anywhere, but at the moment I couldn’t bring myself to respond. I felt his hand envelop my right, squeezing it tightly as he continued, ‘you need to take deep breaths. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Match your breathing to mine.’ His voice was low, commanding and impossible to ignore, as he took his breaths I tried my best to mirror him, encouraged as he whispered soft reassurances to me whenever a deep breath broke into several shallow, panicked breaths. I don’t know how long he stayed there with me for, my hand in his, whispering encouragements and continually reminding me to match my breathing to his, but eventually I regained control and a long, relieved sigh left me when I realised it was over.

My forehead fell against his shoulder, exhaustion falling over me as I soaked his suit jacket with my tears. I hated panic attacks. They sucked, in truth I’d forgotten just how much. Hotch’s hand stroked my hair while the other rubbed soothing circles into my lower back. He never once complained, never gave the impression that he was getting impatient with how long it was taking me to pull myself together.

But when I did lift my head from his shoulder, my hands resting on the tops of his muscled arms for support the first words I said were, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’ His eyes were sincere and reassuring, and I felt the tension in my chest ease a little.

I nodded, my head falling back to his shoulder. In the back of my mind I knew there was no need for me to still be clinging to him like this, that we were shifting more towards inappropriate behaviour the longer he held me in his arms, but I couldn’t bring myself to care, and seeing as he wasn’t in a hurry to pull away I didn't either. We stayed there for a few minutes longer but the moment was broken when his phone started to ring in his suit jacket. I reluctantly pulled back and stood with him as he pulled out the device and answered it.

‘Hotchner.’ He said, his voice slipping back into his usual stern work tone.

I tuned out of the conversation, wiping my cheeks and running some cold water over my face. I didn't have my bag with me so I couldn’t apply fresh make up to make my face look less tear stained, which was frustrating but it was what it was. I blotted my face dry and offered Hotch a reassuring smile as he examined my expression once again.

‘I’m fine.’ I told him once he’d hung up the phone.

‘Are you sure? When I said you didn’t have to do this, I meant it.’ He murmured, his eyes softening with sincerity.

‘I know you did, but I meant it when I said I wouldn’t put my discomfort above giving families closure.’ I sighed, gesturing towards the door, ‘we should get going.’

He nodded, guiding me from the room with a hand hovering above my lower back. I grabbed my go bag and purse from my desk, relieved the rest of the team was in the conference room again, most likely being briefed on another case. If they’d seen me in my current state, I was sure I’d have more people to convince that I was up to this.

We boarded the jet, taking one of the double seats next to each other. We spent most of the flight in silence, Hotch spent time going over the past cases, but I couldn't bring myself to, worried seeing what he’d done to those other women would trigger a panic attack. I took time to properly pull myself together, knowing I couldn’t sit across from a psychopath anything less than guarded and prepared. By the time the jet’s wheels touched down on the tarmac, I was ready to face him.

‘It’s nice to see you again.’ His smile was the same, it still sent a slither of discomfort down my spine, but I refused to let it show on my face.

‘We’re here as you requested, now give us the names and locations of the victims we missed.’ Hotch said, I could see him out of my peripheral vision, he was sat straight, quietly confident and his tone was stern. But Rivers hadn’t stopped staring at me, and I wasn’t about to break first.

‘Names,’ Hotch prompted after a moment, his tone hardening.

He finally looked away and I took in the smug upturn of his lips and the malice that glittered in his eyes. I didn’t know what he was going to say, but I knew it wasn’t going to be good.

‘I’ll tell you what you want to know.’ His eyes flickered to me again, and when Aaron cleared his throat to attract his gaze, the smile that grew on his face was that of a sharks, ‘if you tell me something first.’

‘What do you want to know?’ He asked, a confused frown forming on his face.

‘What I would like to know is how you function so well as a team when you’re clearly in love with one another.’ He said and I felt my blood run cold. Of all the ways I’d pictured Hotch finding out about my feelings for him, this was most definitely not on the top ten list.

Neither of us spoke, and he took that as a sign to continue as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed arrogantly against his chest, ‘I noticed the night you arrested me. While I was cuffed and led away by your brawny agent you rushed over to her. Now love is not something I understand myself but I’ve witnessed it on others, specifically on the two of you that night. The way you held her, the way she relaxed with your arms around her, the way you refused to leave her alone and carried her over to the ambulance when she passed out.’

I’ve witnessed it on others, specifically the two of you that night.

Specifically the two of you that night.

The two of you.

He didn’t mean... did he?

I banished that train of thought before it could run away from me. Rivers didn’t know what he was talking about, he just wanted to rile us up, to exert the minimal control he still had to play with us and feel some form of accomplishment. I took a breath and leaned back in my seat, making a show of rolling my eyes. I’d be damned if I was going to let this psycho see just how well he’d pin pointed and played on my insecurities.

‘Not that it’s any of your business,’ I examined my nails, knowing not giving him my full attention would play on his superiority complex. Like I said, most domineering personalities were arrogant and incredibly narcissistic— Johnathan Rivers possessed that particular characteristic in spades, ‘but the way I feel for Agent Hotchner is no different than how I feel for the rest of my team. I love them all and they’re like family to me. Now I don’t know what you think you witnessed, but I assure you, your assumptions are false.’

I leaned forward to look him in the eyes and when he suddenly jolted forward, to make a grab for me, I refused to flinch and continued to meet his eye. I felt Hotch lean forward too, slamming his hand onto the metal table and once again demanding the names.

‘What’s the matter Agent Hotchner? Nervous about sharing your own feelings on the subject?’ He asked, but chuckled at Aaron’s dark glare, ‘fine. Wendy Grooves, Sarah Jones, Victoria McMillan and Melinda Hewitt. All of them can be found buried underneath concrete in the basement of the house I owned. I had to move the dumping site when I ran out of room.’

Without another word Hotch and I stood, so simultaneous that it was almost as if we planned it, and strode from the room. He pulled out his phone to call Morgan to put together an extraction team to recover the bodies that we’d been given. We both headed for the jet afterwards, neither of us wanting to stay any longer there than we had to. I could feel the tension that crackled between us and how it seemed to intensify the longer we didn't talk. As much as I hated it, I didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, and so we stayed quiet until Hotch shifted in his seat across from me half way through our flight.

‘We should talk.’ He said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it, and when I looked up into his eyes I could see his hesitation along with that ever present soft emotion.

‘Okay.’ I reluctantly agreed, taking a deep breath and steeling myself for rejection, ‘I’ve been in love with you—.’

‘I know how you feel about me, Y/N.’ He cut me off, continuing when I blinked in confusion, ‘I had my suspicions before, but when I heard you talking to Reid almost a year ago, that confirmed it.’

‘You heard me.’ I repeated, feeling embarrassment swirling in my gut, ‘why didn’t you say anything?’

‘Because at the time, I was still dealing with getting over Hayley, and then she...’ he trailed off, closing his eyes for a moment, ‘then she died and I didn’t realise how much time had passed. And I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure I was ready to move on, until I was sure I could be completely invested in the relationship and not feeling guilty for moving on and being happy.’

I couldn’t believe my ears. The way he was talking it sounded like... like he had feelings for me too?

‘But I am ready to move on, Y/N. If you’re still willing to give me a chance?’ He asked, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions, the most prominent being hope. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward and taking his hands in mine.

‘I am absolutely sure I want to give you a chance, Aaron.’ I murmured, his following smile was contagious.

He leaned forward, his hands pulling away from mine to caress my face, gently wiping away the happy tears that fell down my cheeks. His forehead fell against mine, and I knew he was giving me the chance to pull away, to change my mind, and when I didn’t he leaned forward and sealed his mouth over mine. The kiss started off tentative, as all first kisses did, and when we’d become more familiar with one another, his hand lifted to my hair as he deepened the kiss. My hands slid into his midnight locks, enjoying the softness and tugging on the strands. I felt a groan vibrate in his chest and he pulled me closer, both of his hands lifting me by my waist and onto his lap. One hand trailed down my back, the other fell to the side of my neck, his thumb moving back and forth over my pulse point. Before the kiss could deepen any further, we reluctantly pulled apart, our lungs in dire need of oxygen. Our foreheads rested against each other, our erratic breath mingling as we worked to get it under control. Once we’d recovered more, he placed a chaste kiss to my lips, then my nose, then each eye lid before finishing with my forehead. I chuckled breathlessly, my heart picking up again, as his hands rested on my cheeks and he stared at me with that soft emotion again. Only now I could see what it was, now that my mind wasn’t clouded with fear of misinterpretation. It was love.

‘We have some things we need to discuss.’ He murmured after a while, ever the boss.

‘I know.’ My hand covered his left on my cheek, shifting it so I could kiss his palm before I entwined our fingers together.

‘I don’t think we should tell the team right away, while we figure things out and get into our own rhythm without having to worry about being over assessed when they know.’ He said, his other hand moved through my hair, a smile forming on his lips when I leaned into his touch, ‘and we’ll have to file a relationship form with Strauss.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ And it did, hearing him talk about what we would need to do once we’d found dynamic as a couple, made it seem more real and long lasting.

After that, we didn’t talk much, and I didn’t move from his lap. My head rested against his shoulder, my face nuzzled into his neck. His hand moved through my hair while his other held a case file that he was reading, apparently it was one JJ had asked for a second opinion on. I didn’t remember exactly when I fell asleep, but the last thought that ran though my mind was one word.

Safe.

It was three weeks later that Aaron and I went on our first date. We’d spent time together in between of course, but we’d only had the odd day off since and that time was meant for Jack, which I understood. I loved the little guy so if spending time with Aaron meant spending time with Jack too, it was hardly a hardship and more of a blessing. Which is why I didn’t push for us to have our first date, knowing that he cared for me as I cared for him practically had me walking on air. But when he asked me out to dinner and a movie, and told me that Jack was with is aunt for the night, I found myself feeling nervous with butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I’d dressed in a form fitting slinky dark purple body con dress, paired with some black flats. I’d curled my hair and clipped it back so it fell down the centre of my back, my make up was light and I was wearing lip balm over lipstick— I didn’t want to have to worry about topping it up throughout the night.

His knock at the door made the butterflies swarm again and I opened the door with a smile. I felt my eyes dilate with attraction as I took him in— he was wearing his usual dress shoes and pants, but the way he wore his shirt made me want to drool. It was pale blue, his top two buttons were undone, allowing me to spy some chest hair, and his cuffs were rolled up to his forearms. I couldn't help the way my gaze lingered on the veins that protruded from his arms, and when I finally managed to meet his eyes again I noticed they were alight with attraction and pleasure at my reaction to him.

‘You look...gorgeous.’ I said, for lack of a better word. His smile grew on his lips as he reached forward, taking my hand in his. My free hand fell to his forearm, running along his veins and enjoying the softness of his skin.

‘Thank you, honey.’ He murmured, his hand moving to the side of my face, his thumb moving over my cheekbone, ‘you look breath taking.’

I blushed at the compliment, placing a kiss to his palm in thanks. As I grabbed my keys and my card wallet, I realised I hadn’t grabbed a bag to carry them in, before I could Aaron took them from my hands and placed them in his back pocket with a wink that made my heart skip a beat.

As we walked to the elevator, he told me about how Jack had taken his FBI badge into school for show and tell, without telling him about it first. He’d worried that he’d misplaced it, or left it in Detroit— the last place we’d gone to for a case—until Jack had come home and told his dad about his day. He’d told him he shouldn’t take things without asking, but he’d been more touched than mad.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we sat next to one another in the privacy of a booth, eating Italian food and drinking wine. We spent the night basking in each other’s company, sharing stories, laughing and deciding to order dessert when we realised we’d lost track of time and missed the movie. But I didn’t mind, I preferred it actually instead of being in a place where we couldn’t share conversation. We stayed until an apologetic waiter told us they were closing and asked us to leave. And we drove back to his apartment, his hand entwined with mine and his other on the steering wheel as music from the radio played quietly.

‘Jack has a play date tomorrow morning, so Jessica won’t be bringing him home until the afternoon.’ Hotch murmured to me as we stepped into his apartment.

‘Oh really, so no early start tomorrow?’ I grinned, a sigh of contentment leaving me as his hands rested on my waist.

‘Which is good, because when I’m through with you, I think you’ll need your rest to recover.’ He spoke quietly against the skin of my throat in between kisses.

There was no arrogance in his voice, he was confident but quietly so, and I assumed he had a reason to be. He wasn’t the kind of man who was self assured without knowing it to be true.

‘Hmm... I think you’re all talk, Hotchner.’ I teased, but it was rendered pointless as a quiet moan left my throat when his lips latched onto the sensitive spot behind my ear.

He chuckled against my skin, not bothering to respond as my behaviour had already told him everything he needed to know. My hands wound in his hair as his lips continued their exploration, grateful for his grip on my lower back, as without the support I was sure my knees would have buckled. My head fell against the back of the front door as my breathing became erratic, while his lips trailed over my collarbone and down between the valley of my breasts. His hand slid the thin strap down my arm, and allowing him to move the fabric of my dress and close his mouth around my nipple. I moaned, feeling myself grow hotter as his hand moved down my legs, slipping under the satin fabric and trailing up my bare leg and stopping behind my knee. He lifted my right leg to hook around his waist, and then did the same with my left, his lips never stopping in their pleasurable torment on my chest. I barely noticed him carrying me to his bedroom, until my back was met with the cool temperature of his sheets. His lips returned to mine, the kiss full of passion, lust and when our tongues met, a battle for dominance that he won with minimal effort.

As we became lost in each other, as he moved inside of me, as he whispered praises and encouragements in my ear, as we reached our climaxes together, I found myself fall that little bit more in love with him. Because, he was gentle, he took care of me and my desires, and he found pleasure in doing so, just as I knew he would.

Much later, as we both lay back to regather our breath and exhaustion overcame me, I found myself thinking— there was no way us being together would feel so natural, so right, if we weren’t meant to be. And in that moment, I knew we were.

Aaron Hotchner was my soulmate.

A/N: This came to me after I read of terrible coffee and late night rides by @venusbarnes It’s absolutely wonderful and if you haven’t read it yet, and like Aaron Hotchner imagines, you can find it on their Masterlist. Trust me, you’ll love it.

I hope ya’ll liked this one, I know it’s long, but I just couldn’t bring myself to stop. Whoops.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #criminal minds

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iamjungkooked · 4 years

Text

All In

Synopsis:

Jeon Jungkook is everything you have ever desired in a partner. He’s kind, passionate, funny, honest, warm and every positive adjective in the dictionary. He totally gets you and you get him. He seems like the perfect guy for you, except he is dating your best friend. What could possibly go wrong?

The four times you get the wind knocked out of you by Jeon Jeongguk

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) + mild smut + a li’l bit of fluff but mostly angst

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Word count: 13.1k

A/N: a huge thank you to you if you read this. Any kind of feedback is appreciated ❤️ I hope you enjoy it!

*****************

So far there have been two times in your life where you have gotten the wind knocked out of you. The first was when you saw your favourite band in concert for the first time ever. The second is when you see Jeon Jeongguk across the room at your best friend’s party.

{3 years ago}

Standing in the corner of the room, you scan the crowd that has filled the house. As you continue your examination, your eyes catch a stranger across the room. He’s got a beer in one hand, and with the other, he is running a hand through his hair. To say you feel unsteady on your feet and can’t breathe would be an understatement. Immediately mesmerized by his smile, you find it hard to take your eyes off him. He catches your gaze across the room, and you immediately lower your eyes. Fidgeting with your phone, you leave from the crowded living room and make an escape for the front yard of Mina’s house, which is the only quiet place.

The night is silent, save for the sounds of crickets chirping into the distance somewhere. You amble quietly towards the tree in the yard, which is yours and Mina’s favourite spot. Dusting off the roots that protrude from the ground, you sit down and rest your head against the bark.

“I thought I saw someone heading in this direction” the nameless stranger from before makes an appearance, almost making you lose your balance even though you are sitting.

“Hi” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear

“What are you doing out here leaving that awesome party?” he chuckles as he sits next to you, drawing his knees to his chest.

“It’s too loud. Not my kind of scene” you play with your hands in an effort to detract from the nervousness.

“Thought I was the only one”

You shake your head. “I took you for the parties-are-my-thing- kind of guy”

With eyebrows raised in surprise, he looks at you. “Really? What makes you say that?”

“Only the people swarming around you, and just your general aura. I guess” you shrug.

“Hmm” he nods in thought. “I am Jungkook, by the way” his hand crosses the gap between you, and he holds it in front of you.

You look at his hand for a moment, before sliding yours in. “I am y/n”

“Nice to meet you” his lips stretch in that perfect smile, which is capable of breaking hearts.

“So, if parties aren’t your thing, what do you like?” he asks after a moment of silence.

“Nature, books, Netflix of course, and people watching”

He laughs at your response and nods his head. “I haven’t met a single person to date who doesn’t like Netflix. But people watching, now that is something I haven’t heard before”

“I mean, you would have to be some kind of a monster to not like Netflix. People watching is a weird name for it, but more like observing my surroundings. People more so than other details.” you chuckle at the ridiculousness of it. “The human condition is very fascinating”

“How so?” his interest piques.

“You can learn a lot about someone just by looking at them. I don’t mean giving them a once over, but really observing them”

“So what did you learn about me?” he grins with a twinkle in his eyes.

“You are confident given your posture. Definitely an extrovert, since you just struck up a conversation with a random stranger. You keep an open and inviting body language, which tells me you aren’t afraid of showing your true self and letting people in. What else?” you pause in thought. “That is all I can think of right now”

“Was I just a part of the crowd or did I happen to strike your fancy? I saw you looking at me”

“Oh that…” your lower your gaze partly in nervousness and partly in embarrassment. “I am sorry if that was weird. I was looking around the room, and I saw you and just…” you trail off.

“It’s alright. I am happy you did. Otherwise, I would never have come up to you and I never would have known how intelligent and fascinating you are”

You didn’t expect him to respond like that which eases your nervousness, allowing you to gather the courage to look at him. “You are good at giving compliments. Thank you” you smile at him, heart beating slightly faster than usual.

“Actually, thank you. For saving me from boring conversations” he motions his head to Mina’s house. “I am glad I met you. I have seriously never met anyone like you”

“I have never met anyone like me either” your lips stretch into a grin.

“What do you gather about them?” Jungkook points to presumably a couple in the making sitting on the steps leading to the house.

“Why don’t you give it a shot?” you prompt with a crooked grin.

He mulls the offer for a moment. “Well…” he pauses as he studies the couple. “She’s leaning in, so she’s definitely interested. He might be interested but he’s put a little bit of distance between them. So maybe he’s not sure about her. She’s touching his arm, and she just threw her head back and laughed so she’s totally into whatever he said. Either that or she likes him so much that she’s just laughing at whatever. He’s fidgeting with his hands, so maybe he’s nervous” he looks to you for confirmation. “How am I doing so far?”

“You are a pro at it Mr. Jungkook”

His smile widens. “The effect of hanging out with intelligent people” he winks.

You chuckle and shake your head. “It’s funny isn’t it?”

“What?” he turns to look at you.

“It takes a lot for two people to be together. There are so many layers and so many complexities and so much drama involved. There is no guarantee that we’ll be happy once we find whatever we’re looking for. Yet, we’re all desperately searching for the one person who can give us the validation we need without even knowing where we will end up. It might be a good person or a bad one, but we never stop. It’s like actively looking for heartbreak, and that possibility is somehow better than being alone”

“Everyone wants to be loved. I don’t think it’s the feelings that we crave or even physical contact. I think it’s the fact that someone is choosing us for who we are. You know the whole package of good, bad, and ugly. That is why we have so many dating websites now. Everyone wants in” he replies looking at the couple who is still sitting on the steps.

He gets you. You can actually have a proper conversation with him. He’s the whole package too. He’s smart, and from what you can tell a genuinely kind guy. He’s not just a superficial guy, like many others you have met before who only want to talk about interests and hobbies, and likes or dislikes because those are the topics of conversation when you first meet someone. God forbid, you actually dig deeper and try to unravel the many layers of human personality.

“Do you want in?” you question.

“I-” he’s interrupted by Mina, who is approaching.

“Y/N!” she squeals and you move to stand up, but Jungkook is already offering you his hand.

You slide your hand in his and nod your head for a thank you.

“Oh my god! Thank god you guys met!” she exclaims. “I was so scared to introduce you guys to each other. But the universe took care of it for me” she looks heavenward and sighs.

You can smell the alcohol on her breath. Mina is a typical social animal. She’s got tons of friends, and whenever the occasion arises she hosts parties . Of course, like any other extrovert, she is constantly embroiled in the painful cycle of relationships. She’s had so many boyfriends over the years, you can’t even count anymore. Ever since you met her in grade 1, she’s always had someone she’s either crushing on, or she’s in a relationship with. She is the perfect example of people suffering from “love syndrome” as you like to call it. But she’s also your best friend because, despite everything, she will fiercely defend you if anyone hurts you, and she’s always there for you. She’s been through thick and thin with you and in the 2 decades of friendship, you have gone through a lot with her.

“What do you mean?” your brows knit together in confusion.

“Y/n, this is Jungkook. He’s my boyfriend”

You blink at her owlishly because there is no other way to respond. You never thought there would be a third time when you would feel like you have been sucker-punched. But this is it. This is the third time in your life when you felt like the wind was knocked out of you.

By the end of the night, all the fantasies you had built in your head about marrying him, having a cute family together, and living a cliche suburban life came crashing down.

Because Jeon Jeongguk is your best friend’s boyfriend.

*********

{Present day}

“Please do it!” Mina begs folding her hands, following you around like a child needing attention.

“No!” you shake your head as you pick up the cleaning agent and the cloth and head over to the table that was occupied by a group of high school students. Mina follows you to the table. You begin cleaning the mess the kids made.

“Why!?” she questions.

You can’t give her the real reason. So you settle for the whole I-don't-have-time-to-date-right now spiel. But there is only one reason why you don’t want to date: Jungkook. As hopeless, and wrong it is to have a one-sided love for him, you just can’t seem to invest in anyone else. As much as your instincts and reasoning contradict this stubborn desire of yours, you still can’t seem to detach yourself from the insufferable feelings.

He is, after all, Mina’s boyfriend. So that should make things easy. But not for you. It’s been three years since Mina and Jeongguk got together. It was three years ago you when your pining for him began and it’s three years later and you are still stuck in the same place. Sometimes being around him is suffocating. Sometimes you hate him for being the reason behind your inability to move on. It’s been three years and you have not understood what it is about him that appeals so much to you.

At first, it was the fact that you could have genuine conversations with him. But then you met Kim Namjoon, who is your ex-boyfriend. It was surprisingly easy with Namjoon. You could talk about the most superficial to the deepest things in the span of one conversation. Namjoon managed to stimulate your mind in a way most people can’t. Yet, it didn’t work out because of your inability to invest in the relationship. But you did end up getting another best friend out of it.

Being with Namjoon made you realize that it’s not that you could have genuine conversations with Jungkook that made you like him, but it was the unfathomable truth that you just liked him. That was all there was to it. Love without a reason is the hardest to grasp and it was no wonder you are having difficulties understanding your emotions.

“Bullshit!” Mina yells, startling you with her shrill voice. You turn around to face her.

“Bullshit? My choices are bullshit for you?”

“Yes. You have been doing this for so long to yourself that you can’t even see what you are doing is not good for you” she stares at you unyieldingly.

“If you really knew what I wanted, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. In fact, we wouldn’t even…” you feel the anger which is prompting you to act this way.

“Wouldn’t even what?” she folds her arms against her chest, and motions her head at you.

“Look” you sigh. “I have had a long day Mina. I can’t get into this and trust me it’s better this way” you begin to walk back to the cash counter and shut the tiny gate so Mina can’t enter

She is relentless in her pursuit of you as she follows you to the counter and leans against it. “Why can’t you just go on one date with Hoseok? He’s a perfectly nice guy!”

“Because I can’t date!” you reply.

I only want your boyfriend, which makes me the biggest bitch in the entire world.

“It’s not that you can’t. It’s just you don’t want to and I want to know why. I am not forcing you, babe. I am just worried for you” her brows furrowed together in concern.

“I am sorry Min. I love you but please drop this” you open the cash drawer and begin counting the bills.

“No. This has gone on forever” she digs her heels into the ground to prove to you just how serious she is.

You drop the bills you were holding in the cash drawer, and slam it shut. It’s good that the cafe has closed early because you can actually leave. You turn around and go to the back where you know Mina can’t follow you. But you can still hear her rambling by herself, which she does when she is pissed. You roughly take off the apron and instead of hanging it on the hook, you leave it on the floor. At this point, you just need to get away from her. Grabbing your coat from one of the other hooks, you go back out the way you came in.

Of course, Mina is still there, but she’s sitting in one of the booths, her eyes glued to her phone. You walk past her towards the door and hear her calling out. But instead of turning around you walk right out and take a right on the street. You have no idea where you are going, but you are too wired to try and figure it out.

You put in your headphones and pull the hoodie over your head. The sound of music instantly soothes the anger that had built up. You turn around to make sure she is not following you and when you find yourself on the street alone you let out a long exhale.

You don’t see it because you were somehow too busy gawking at the cobbled sidewalk, but you end up bumping into someone.

“I am so-” you stop midway because it’s none other than Jeon Jeongguk.

“Hi, stranger” he steadies you by putting his hands on your shoulder.

“Sorry I didn’t see you” you pull out your headphones and shove them in the hoodie pocket.

“Are you okay? You look a little stressed”

How he always knows what you’re feeling, you’ll never know. That is one of the things you like about him. You never have to say anything to him and he always knows how you feel, which at times makes you wonder if he is aware of your feelings towards him. If he is, then there is nothing worse and more embarrassing than that.

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” you sigh and look heavenward, and stretch your neck to the right.

“No. I know you extremely well” he rubs concentric circles on your arms, and that is when you realize he had been holding you the entire time.

“Your girlfriend and I just got into a little argument and I might or might not have been completely unreasonable and by default a bitch”

“Another date?” he questions, his hands still on your arms as he switches to gentle stroking. You almost want to move away, put some distance. But you like the feeling of him touching you too much to do that. At this point, all you want to do is, collapse in his arms, and let him hug all the negative energy away. But you can’t. It’s absolutely and completely wrong. Even wanting that, makes you feel like you are the worst human being to ever exist. You have to grapple with so much guilt every day that it’s a true wonder you still have the ability to feel the whole spectrum of emotions.

You remember he asked you a question and nod. You don’t even need to ask how he knows. He’s Jeongguk and he’ll always know. So, why you aren’t together despite being so perfectly in tune with one another, you don’t know.

“I am exhausted” you mumble, feeling your lip tremble and a lump form in your throat. It’s the worst possible moment to cry but he’s standing right there in front of you. You already feel too much from your conversation with Mina and now Jeongguk is there and you can’t help it. Loving him is the worst thing ever. It’s like drugs. You know they are bad for you, yet you can’t give them up. You realize what you had told him on the night you first met about human- beings actively looking for heartbreak.

The irony of that statement hits you because you are doing exactly that, despite telling yourself you never would. First guilt, then hurt, and now self-betrayal.

“Hey” he whispers in a soft voice, which makes it even harder to hold your tears back.

You sniffle as they fall one by one. You tuck your chin into your neck so he can’t see you. You should not be crying in front of your best friend’s fucking boyfriend. But there you are, doing exactly that. It almost feels cheap because you feel like you are forcing him to react in a way that he shouldn’t because he’s Jeongguk and he’s nice and he’ll do whatever he can do to comfort you. So knowing him you know what’s coming next.

Sure enough, he wraps one arm around your waist, and with his other, he gently pats the back of your head. You bury your face in his chest.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to” he continues to gently caress your hair.

You sniffle again and press your face in his chest further. He doesn’t say anything and holds you. But he shouldn’t because Mina isn’t there. It’s too intimate.

You sniffle again and remember how wrong this is. “I am sorry” you pull away from his arms.

Jeongguk almost looks shocked, and a little bit disappointed too. Maybe you are being delusional. He nods and slides his hands into his jean pockets. Neither of you say a word and stand in the middle of the sidewalk unable to look at each other.

“A-anyway” you croak. “You should go check up on Mina” you offer a weak smile.

His lips push into a thin line. “Take care y/n”

You walk past him, your arm brushing against his. A few steps down the sidewalk you look back and see him disappearing into the corner and then he’s gone. That's’ when you finally break down.

Why does it have to be him?

*********

Mina hasn’t spoken to you in 24 hours which is a record for her, considering she is a chatterbox. You don’t know how to approach this new development in your friendship. If anything, it strengthens your resolve of preventing Mina from knowing your feelings. Because if she is this angry when you refused a date with another guy, it’s easy to imagine how angry and hurt she would be if she knew your feelings.

The only person you can think of at the moment for help is Jeongguk. But you will be damned if you ask him. You need to stay as far away from him as possible and figure your life out because you have decided you cannot be a pathetic loser for the rest of your life. So the only way to kill two birds with one stone is to do what you are about to say.

“I’ll meet Hoseok” you glance at Mina and then pretend to flip through the magazine.

It’s silent. That is not what you were expecting. You look up to confirm if she is there and that she heard you. She is present alright. But she’s frozen at the spot, and she is staring at you with the eyes of someone in complete disbelief. If they open any wider, you are sure her eyeballs will pop out of their sockets.

“Are you serious?” she moves so quickly, you don’t even register she is sitting next to you on the couch.

“Yeah” you close the magazine.

“Oh my god. I never thought you would say yes!” she wraps you in a hug so fast that you both end up toppling over and you hit your back against the couch.

“I’ll go” you pat her on the back.

“Yes!” she squeals and sits up, allowing you to do the same. “Well, since I know how much you hate going on first dates, I already invited him over for dinner tonight” she looks at you with anticipation.

“How did you know I was going to say yes?”

“I know you better than you know yourself, honey” she laughs.

“That is true” you laugh with her.

“I cannot wait for you to meet him y/n. He’s so sweet and I am already imagining your cute babies together!” she exclaims and wraps you in another hug.

*********

Mina left the house to go get groceries. She wasn’t exactly a good cook, so obviously, Jeongguk was going to come over and cook for everyone. He was going to come anyway since Mina had arranged a dinner. He was perfect in every way possible. Mina was such a lucky person to have found him. He was lucky to find someone as caring as her too. The only unlucky person is you, who is stuck with horrible unrequited feelings.

It comes as no surprise that Jeongguk arrives earlier at your place. The weather suddenly takes a turn for the worse with lighting and thunder making a sudden appearance in the sky every so often. You can hear the wind howling outside the window. Jeongguk enters the house completely soaked.

“Oh my god Jeongguk” you exclaim and sidestep quickly to let the poor man in.

“I am okay” he sneezes.

“Yeah. Totally” you roll your eyes and take the bags from him and leave them on the kitchen counter. “By the way, Mina went to get groceries. I guess she didn’t inform you”

Jeongguk sighs and shakes his head. “As usual, she did not”

You hurry to the bathroom and grab a spare towel for Jeongguk. You hand it to him and he runs it through his black locks, which fall over his forehead. “I am going to wash up before I catch a cold” he sniffles.

“But your clothes…”

“Mina’s room” he supplies.

Your heart sinks. Of course, Mina has a spare set or two of his clothes. He is her boyfriend, you remind yourself.

“Right” you smile halfheartedly.

Jeongguk turns on his heels and disappears into the bathroom. While he’s gone you arrange the groceries on the counter so it’s easier for him when he’s cooking. You know you shouldn’t do nice things for him because it only makes you more attached. But somehow when you see him every resolve you have ever built goes out of the window.

{2 years ago}

“I wish I had met you before I met Mina” Jeongguk muses in his drunken state as you support him. If you knew holding him up would be such a nuisance, you would never have let him drink this much. Mina is a similar story if not worse. By the time you get into the taxi, Mina is already asleep and snoring away and Jeongguk is softly mumbling something you cannot make out. Shutting the backseat door, you get into the passenger seat and give the driver the address to your apartment which you share with Mina.

The car starts moving and you look back to find Jeongguk’s and Mina’s limbs entangled with each other. You chuckle and face forward, hoping that getting them into the apartment would be a better experience than getting them into the taxi. You arrive fairly quickly.

The taxi driver was kind enough to lend you a hand with Jeongguk, after you settle Mina into her bed. You give him an extra tip for kindness because you couldn’t have supported Jeongguk all by yourself, especially since people tend to feel heavier when they are asleep.

After paying for the taxi, you enter the apartment and take your shoes off at the entrance. You can hear Jeongguk rambling something in his sleep once more, and go to check on him. Throwing your purse on the coffee table, you crouch down and take his shoes off. Then you collapse next to him, feeling like all energy has been drained out of you.

Jeongguk snuggles up to you, which causes your breath to catch in your throat. “Jeongguk” you try to push away his arm from your waist, but he has you locked in. Even in a drunken state he’s that strong.

“Jeongguk” you call him again, hoping this time he would let you go.

“Just stay like this” he mumbles. “You smell good”

“I am y/n. Not Mina”

“I know. I am drunk but not that drunk” he tightens his hold around your waist and snuggles further into the crook of your neck. “Please. Stay. I like you y/n. Don’t leave me”

The moment he utters those words, you forget to breathe. He’s completely wasted and he won’t remember any of it which means you shouldn’t react to it at all because it’s meaningless. Yet, your body reacts. Your heart quickens, stomach tightens in knots. Out of guilt you glance at the partly closed door of Mina’s room.

“No you don’t. You’re drunk” you manage to say as you turn to look at him. His eyes are closed and he’s half asleep yet he insists he isn’t that drunk.

“I know you think I am wasted. But drunk people don’t lie y/n. I like you and I wish” he stops. “I wish really badly that you and I…” he trails off and the sounds of his heavy breathing fills the room. You look down at him sleeping soundly and only one thought occupies your head.

“Why does it have to be you Jeongguk” you whisper to yourself, closing your eyes and letting slumber take you.

The next morning, you wake up alone with a blanket drawn over you and Jeongguk isn’t there.

*********

“Y/n” you are drawn out of reverie by Jeongguk’s voice. “Where are you lost?” he asks.

You blink away the thoughts in your mind and focus on him. “Uhh.. nothing. I was just thinking about something”

“You think a lot you know?” he chuckles as he moves behind the kitchen counter and starts washing the vegetables and laying them out on the cutting board.

“It’s a disease” you reply with a smile of your own. Grabbing the water jug, you pour yourself a glass of water. Being parched around Jeongguk is like an occupational hazard because loving him somehow has become your full-time job. You are in the midst of taking a sip when-

“But that’s what I like about you” he replies in a mindless manner, all focus directed at chopping the vegetables that he doesn’t even look at you.

You choke on the water, followed by a coughing fit which immediately grabs Jeongguk’s attention. He rushes to your side and begins stroking your back in a gentle manner. It only makes you cough harder because that what happens when he touches you; whatever you are feeling in the moment is amplified ten times more.

“I am okay” you croak heavily, grabbing your throat.

“You scared me for a moment” Jeongguk shakes his head. “You good?”

You really want to ask him what he meant by his earlier statement, but that will only cause you to spiral. You will dissect it to the point of driving yourself nuts. When it comes to him, you are back to being a fucking teenager. It doesn’t really get much worse than that.

“Yeah” you clear your throat and stay at your spot while he turns his back to you and resumes chopping the vegetables and you-- well-- you stay you.

“Hey” Jeongguk looks at you over his shoulder. “Did Mina mention anything to you?”

“Like what?” you question, suddenly curious.

“We just had a little fight. So, I thought she might have said something to you”

“Surprisingly enough she didn’t. Would it matter if she told me?” you prod further and move closer to where he is standing.

Jeongguk abandons the knife and his intention to prep for whatever he’s making as he does a 360 turn to face you. “It matters what you think” he shrugs. “To me” he adds whilst leaning his back against the kitchen counter and scrutinizing you in a most intense manner.

You stare at this lovely man who stands in front of you. A man you love so much, that you don’t know what to do with your feelings. A man who makes you want to cry every time he’s around because everything is hopeless. In fact, if you could, you would cry right now because when he’s around there is always a tight feeling in your throat which you have to keep swallowing down.

“Why do you always say things like that?” suddenly things become much more serious. You can feel it in the air.

He’s silent as he regards you. You wait, feeling the weight of it as every moment passes.

“I am not supposed to say this. Hell, I am crazy for even thinking this but I have wrestled with this for so long” he scratches the nape of his neck.

Don’t Jeongguk, You scream inside your head

You have an inkling as to what he’ll say.

“Don’t” you shake your head before he even opens his mouth. He looks at you and you know he understands what you mean.

“So you know” he steps closer, and you take a step backwards.

“No” you whisper. He takes another step forward and you take another backwards. “I didn’t know. Until now” the words fall as another whisper through your lips. He moves forward, and you move backwards.

“You?” he questions. “Do you?” he prods. He doesn’t even need to complete the question because you know what he’s asking. You have waited for this moment for three years. You clearly never imagined it would happen so suddenly, nor while he was still with Mina.

“Will my answer change anything?” You continue your little dance as you step back again while steps towards you.

“Maybe not” he speaks so softly, it’s almost at the edge of a whisper. The only sounds in the room are that of the refrigerator and the sound of the heating system as it turns on.

“We shouldn’t be doing this” you look him in the eyes. That is when you realize how terrifying it is to look in someone’s eyes and see how they feel.

“I know” he takes his final step forward and has you pinned against the kitchen counter. He places his hands on either side of you on the white marble. “Is it bad that I want to” he leans in and his lips hover so near to yours, that you can almost taste his signature strawberry scent.

You know what you should say, but it’s not easy because you want it too. Maybe this is your chance. Maybe if you just say ‘no’ now it will put an end to all those painful feelings. It’s right at the tip of your tongue. You can’t believe you are actually considering it. But then an image of Mina flashes to your mind, which pulls you back into reality.

“Yes, it’s bad. We can’t. No matter how much we want to. We can’t do it. We’re good people” you lick your lips as your eyes bounce to his lips.

“What do I do?” he whispers against your lips. “You make me want to be a bad person y/n” he caresses your cheek and reaching up your hands clench onto the material of his shirt.

“ It’s only a moment. It’ll pass. I know you won’t do it, no matter how strongly you feel about this. You’re a good person Jeongguk.” your voice cracks because you are so close. You are so close yet so far from him that it breaks your heart for the millionth time and tears well up in your eyes.

“And that’s the problem isn’t it?” he bites his lip. He rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. For the next few moments, your breathing even out and matches with his. You stand there trapped between his arms, trying your best to soak this feeling because it will never happen again. The fact that you are doing this simple thing is wrong on so many levels you begin to feel the guilt creep up. You begin to feel ashamed of yourself for even letting him this close but goddamn it, you want him so bad you can’t help it.

Taking a deep breath he pulls back and steps backwards, putting some space between you.

You smile at him.

“How can you smile at a time like this?” he muses softly, eyes resting on you.

“Just knowing how you feel is enough. It’s more than enough Jeongguk”

He regards you in silence, his eyes bouncing from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“I am already feeling weak y/n. Don’t be that nice. I might just kiss you”

“And knowing that is enough. You’re with Mina and I could never do that to her. I know you would never do that to her either. Maybe one-day karma will bless us with something good” you pause. He waits in silence for you to continue. “Just not today”

He nods very slowly. “Just. Not. Today” he repeats softly.

*********

You, Mina, Hoseok and Jeongguk sit on the circular dining table. If there was ever a slim chance that you could skip one moment of your life and go to the next, it would be this one. Never have you felt so awkward. It’s not Hoseok. It’s not Mina. It’s Jeongguk. It’s the way he looks at you when you speak to Hoseok. It’s the way his eyes tell you to stop when you laugh with Hoseok. When you told him the first night you met him you were good at reading people, you meant it. Because you can read him like a book right now. His halfhearted smiles, listless eyes, closed-off body language clearly express his disinterest in the entire evening.

He hasn’t spoken a word to Hoseok the whole time. Jeongguk has only glared at Hoseok or completely avoided looking at him. You glance at Mina and Hoseok who are completely immersed in their conversation. It leaves you and Jeongguk. But you won’t say anything to each other. Not after admitting you like each other in the vaguest way possible. It’s because you can’t be together that makes it awkward.

Mina and Hoseok are immersed in their conversation which leaves you and Jeongguk to do the same per social rules. But it’s too much, too soon. You can’t even look at him properly without wanting to cry. But somehow knowing his feelings has lessened the burden of your own feelings.

“Y/n” Mina puts a hand on yours. “Help with the dishes please” she motions her head to the kitchen

You comply, but only after glancing at Jeongguk. He shakes his head signalling you not to go because he’ll be left alone with Hoseok. You mouth ‘sorry’ to him and follow Mina into the kitchen.

“So. What do you think of Hoseok?” Mina questions as she puts all the plates in the sink.

“He’s…. Nice” which is true. But he isn’t Jeon Jeongguk and therein lies the problem.

“Do you like him?” Mina turns around to look at you, and places her palms behind her on the counter and leans against it.

You should say yes because it’s the only way you’ll move forward. But since you have been hit with the disease of stupidity all you can manage is a shake of your head. “ I am sorry”

“I know. I can tell” she smiles.

“I know I shouldn't bring this up because this is about me and not you. But did you and Jeongguk fight?”

“He told you?” she doesn’t even try to deny it.

“No” you lie. You wouldn’t throw him under the bus. “It’s the way you are with each other today. You are distant from each other”

“Goddamn, you and your people-watching skills” Mina sighs. “I am not going to lie to you y/n. Things are not the same anymore. We’re trying. We are trying so hard to get back to the way things were, but you know that connection you feel when you get together with someone? It’s just not there anymore. But we promised we wouldn’t give up on it and try to make it work”

Unsure how to feel about it, you offer a halfhearted smile. On the one hand, you should be happy your best friend is working for her relationship, but on the other hand, this means that you might actually get your chance with Jeongguk someday. You try to shake the latter thought away because it is wrong. No, in fact, it is immoral for you to think that way about your best friend’s situation like that.

Just then Hoseok strolls into the kitchen. “Everything okay ladies?”

“Yeah. Actually, I need to speak with Jeongguk for a moment if you two will excuse me” she smiles at you knowingly before she leaves the room.

Surprisingly enough you don’t panic. Normally, you would be internally freaking out, trying to think of every which way you could get out of this situation. But you’re not doing anything like that. It’s probably because you know how Jeongguk feels now and the element of the unknown has been erased from the equation. Now that you know, you don’t have to kill yourself over and over again for thinking it’s just you. It’s him too which makes it easier to move on because now you should. It feels like closure. Not to move on, would be akin to sabotaging their relationship. And a saboteur you are not.

“Jeongguk seems like a nice guy” Hoseok muses as he looks down at the floor.

“ Yeah. He is” you clear your throat, definitely surprised at him for bringing Jeongguk up. It’s not exactly a first “date” topic of conversation.

“Let’s be real with each other y/n” his eyes move from the floor to you. “You and I are both not interested in dating each other. I can tell by looking at you. I also know that something is definitely up with you and Jeongguk”

“No-” you try to speak but he raises his hand.

“Don’t worry I won’t tell Mina” he reassures you. “Since I know that about you, it’s only fair I tell you that I feel the same way about Mina as you do about Jeongguk”

“What!” you look at him with raised eyebrows.

“I have liked her since the first day we started working together. We talked about a lot of things and I just felt this connection with her. But she told me she has a boyfriend, so I let it go. But working at the same place and seeing each other 5 days of the week doesn’t exactly make moving on an easy task” he sighs.

“I can understand that” you offer in agreement.

“So, I am in the same position as you except I don’t think Mina feels the same way about me that Jeongguk does about you” a corner of his mouth rises up in a sympathy-smile.

“No” you shake your head vigorously as if that will change his opinion. “You have got it wrong. Jeongguk doesn’t”

“I see the way he looks at you y/n. It’s the way I look at Mina. Love doesn’t know what’s right and what’s wrong and our bodies respond to it without us even noticing. I don’t think he knows it either. He looks at you the way a connoisseur of art looks at paintings. Bad metaphor, but it’s true”

“I honestly don’t know what to say to that because anything I say will be wrong” you huff through your nose as your shoulder slouch.

“It is tricky. But it is what it is. We can’t change how we feel any more than a cow can learn how to fly” he chuckles.

“You really have a thing for metaphors don’t you?” the corners of your lips stretch into a smile.

“What else can a man do but pull out bad metaphors in a situation as dramatic as this” she shrugs casually in his defence.

“I agree. Don’t worry I’ll keep your secret too” you reply. You are in no position to interfere with this matter because you are doing the exact same thing as Hoseok. You would be the last person to throw Hoseok under the bus because you totally understand him.

Silence befalls, but it’s the comfortable kind of silence because now you both know each other’s deepest secrets. And that makes you more than friends. So you feel comfort in knowing that you are not the only one. Not that it makes the guilt feeling creep back into the shadows.

Just when he is about to say something, your attention is stolen away by the sound of what seems like arguing. You can clearly distinguish when Jeongguk is speaking and when Mina is. Hoseok and you share a look before treading a few steps closer to the entrance of the kitchen.

“Well, why the fuck are we even here then?” Mina shouts.

“Because we wanted to try didn’t we? Goddamn it!” Jeongguk replies in an equally loud manner.

“I can’t do this right now Jeongguk”

“Me neither” Jeongguk replies.

Then you hear the sound of the door slamming shut. You and Hoseok look at each other, clearly aware of how sour the situation turned very quickly. Both of you make your way to the living room where the sounds were coming from. The closer you get, the sound of sniffling gets louder.

“Oh Mina…” you hug her and she cries on your shoulder. You gently stroke her back and let her cry it out. Because God knows this is the least you can do to be a good friend because you haven’t been a good friend to her at all.

“You- you h-h-heard that didn’t you?” she chokes in between sobs.

“I am sorry. But we were in the kitchen and we could hear everything” you squeeze tighter around her waist as her body wracks with violent sobs.

She pulls away from you and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. She glances at Hoseok and then at you. “I am sorry you guys had to see this”

“It’s alright” Hoseok interjects as he sits down on the other side of Mina.

“Where did Jeongguk go?” you ask Mina.

“I don’t know” she sniffles and Hoseok hands her a tissue that she uses to wipe her nose.

“I would ask Hoseok to go, but they don’t know each other. Is it alright if I go check up on him?” you ask Mina for permission because it’s the right thing to do.

She sniffles again. “He’s probably off somewhere crying his eyes out too”

You chuckle at the thought of it because it sounds sweet. “Thanks, Min” you kiss her cheek before standing up. Glancing at Hoseok, you nod at him and does the same in understanding.

*********

“Hey stranger”

Jeongguk turns around to face you. The wind whips through his hair, making his hair stand up in every direction. He turns back around. You approach him slowly with your hands behind your back. You pause next to the bench on which he is sitting and watch as he stares mindlessly at the black sky twinkling with hundreds of stars.

“I thought I would find you up here on the roof” you glance at him but he’s still preoccupied with looking at the sky. You take a seat on the other corner of the bench, ensuring you put plenty of space in between.

“I guess you know me as well as I know you” Jeongguk deliberates.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you turn to look at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as the wind blows through your hair.

“It would just complicate things even more” he shrugs and fidgets with his fingers.

“Does my being here make you nervous?” your eyes flicker to his fingers and then to his face.

“Yes,” he replies in a soft, almost inaudible voice.

“Do you want me to leave?” you question, heart thumping in your chest waiting for his answer.

He remains silent, still playing with his fingers. Still not looking at you. So, you take that as your cue to leave. You get up and pivot on your heels, about to leave when you feel his hand hook around your wrist. You turn to look at him and he shakes his head, pleading with his eyes as they bore into yours.

“‘Stay” he manages to say.

So you sit down. Silence falls and both you gaze at the sky. Even silence with him isn’t terrible like it is with other people.

“Hey, do you want to go get coffee?” Jeongguk turns to look at you.

“Now?” your brows rise in question

“Yes. Coffee Monster would still be open”

You mull it over for a moment. How ‘right’ would it be for you to get coffee with him when Mina is downstairs in a sad state? Not at all. You should be with her because she is your best friend. You should be the one consoling her right but Hoseok is doing that for you. He’s there when you are not. Instead, you are on this roof with Jeon Jeongguk; the last person you should be alone with given your predilection for him, seriously considering if you should take him up on his offer.

“If you are thinking it’s wrong for us to be alone like this. Let me remind you we are friends too” Jeongguk poses with a shoulder shrug casually.

“Okay. Let’s get coffee” he manages to put you at ease. It is enough for you to agree.

*********

Just like the world is starved for love, it’s also apparently starved for coffee. There is some kind of coffee place at the corner of every block. It’s ridiculous. You walk side by side, hands warming in your pockets, occasionally glancing at each other but not exchanging a single word. Jeongguk kicks his feet as he walks, and you copy him, making a game out of it. Maybe for this one night, he can just be your friend, and you don’t have to feel guilty about your feelings for him.

You arrive at Coffee Monster, and like the gentleman he is, Jeongguk opens the door for you.

“Thank you, kind sir” your lips widen in a smile

“No problem m’ lady” he tips his head graciously.

The smell of coffee wafts to your nose and you inhale it all in because nothing like coffee to make you feel better.

“I’ll go get our drinks” he offers kindly.

“I want-”

“An iced caramel macchiato, with soy milk, and extra caramel on the top. I know” he smiles.

How does he always do this? It warms your heart every single time and makes it that much harder to let go of him.

“As usual, you’re right” you mirror the smile.

He goes to the ordering counter, while you go to find a spot to wait for him. You pull out your phone and send a quick text to Mina.

You: Mina are you doing okay?

A second later your phone chimes

Mina: yes, I am okay. How is Jeongguk?

You wonder if you should tell her you are getting coffee with him just to be transparent. But then you decide against it because what if she takes it the wrong way? You don’t want to upset her more than she already is.

You: Yeah. He seems to be doing okay 😊

Mina: Okay, love. Take care of yourself and him 🤗

You look up to find a girl next to Jeongguk, with long brunette hair, and modelesque features, chatting with him at the pickup station. She’s leaning into him with a suggestive smile on her face, gently touching his arm and throwing her head back as she laughs at something he says.

Your brows furrow as your watch from afar, feeling a little hurt. But then you notice Jeongguk hesitate and step back a little. Just as she leans in, he leans back and tries to put space between them. You watch as he taps his foot on the ground and angles his body slightly away from her.

You approach them with a grin. “I thought you ran away with our coffee’s” you stand next to Jeongguk, wrapping your hand around his arm

Jeongguk looks down at you and immediately grins. “I would never”

“Who is this?” you question as you look up at him.

“She just wanted to talk” he shrugs casually. The girl frowns at the sight of you, clearly unable to hide her dislike.

“Are you a friend?” she asks

“I am his best friend” you squeeze his arm tighter and he takes it as his cue. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, the one you had been holding onto and pulls you in closer. “A little more special than a best friend”

“Oh… alright” her face falls, and her previously self-assured demeanour disappears and so does she.

You wait for her to get out of sight before separating yourselves from each other.

“Thanks, y/n” Jeongguk smiles at you.

“I am sorry if that was weird. I saw you getting uncomfortable so I thought I could help you out” your gaze lowers to the ground.

“No. It was actually nice” he partly pulls his lower lip between his teeth.

“Damsel in distress” you tease him.

“The biggest damn one you will ever meet” he grins

“One iced and one hot caramel macchiato for Jungkook” your conversation is interrupted by the barista.

Jeongguk picks up both the cups and hands yours to you.

“Are you copying me now?” your brows knit together in a mock frown.

“Did you know that people who like each other, tend to copy each other’s actions?” he says casually but then a second later he realizes what he has just said isn’t so casual after all. His smile disappears into a thin pursed line of his lips as he avoids looking at you.

“Yeah. We like each other, so what? We’re friends” you try to lighten the mood but somehow it just gets more awkward.

“Right” he nods and takes a sip of his coffee. “Friends” he scoffs.

*********

You walk the same path you had come from. Both of you are silent again, avoiding eye contact with each other as best you can. You try to distract yourself by studying your surroundings but your mind is still preoccupied with Jeongguk’s proximity and the occasional brush of his arm against yours.

“How was Mina?” Jeongguk glances at you.

“As well as can be expected. She was crying” you bite your lip.

“Shit” he exhales. “I am the worst boyfriend ever”

Hearing that word from him is like reality slapping you in the face. Your relaxed demeanour vanishes and you tense up because it triggers the return of guilt. You should seriously not be here with him.

“Fuck. I am sorry y/n” he stops in his tracks. You are forced to do the same but you would much rather keep walking. “I should not have said that. I am sorry” he turns to face you and you do the same.

“It’s fine. It’s true so it doesn’t matter how I feel” you shrug casually tying your best to pretend you are not affected by it.

“I care about how you feel. I have since that first night we met. I mean, fuck. Why couldn’t I have met you before I met Mina?” he laments.

“You can’t do anything about how I feel. You cannot even do anything about how you feel so what’s the point in talking about this?”

“But why can’t we?” he runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, what is so wrong in talking about this. About us?”

You scoff. “Us? Jeongguk there is no us. There can never be an ‘us’. It’s not happening”

“Wow” he looks at you with raised eyebrows. “So, you won’t even stop for one moment to talk about it?”

“What is the fucking point Jeongguk?” you look at him wide-eyed.

“For fuck’s sake y/n. It’s been three years. Three whole fucking years we’ve been skirting around each other. We have been tiptoeing around our feelings for one another for so long, we have forgotten what it feels like to be any other way. I mean I can’t remember a single time when being around you wasn’t a painful reminder of what I could have had with you. The least we can do is talk about it!”

“It’s not fair to Mina!” you exclaim

“It’s not fair to us!” he matches the loudness of your voice.

“You’re right. It’s not. It’s not fair that you’re with her and not with me. It’s not fair that we both have to go through this endless cycle of pain and hurt. It’s not fair that we both have to keep silent about all this. But Jeongguk, that’s how it is. That is our reality and we have to accept it”

“Bull-fucking-shit!” he responds.

“You think it’s easy for me to watch you be with her!” you pause to swallow the thick lump of emotions that has risen to your throat. “I have been heartbroken so many times you have no fucking idea. But what’s wrong is wrong. Loving you is wrong. It just is. I can’t change that. I desperately wish I could. I wish I could say to you that it was right. But it’s not. You are my best friend’s boyfriend Jeongguk. She loves you. I can’t get in the way of that” your chest heaves and falls with effort

Jeongguk blinks owlishly at you. “You love me?”

Shit

“I- I. No! No, I don’t love you” you shake your head as if you are trying to convince yourself more than him. You look at the cemented sidewalk because God knows you can’t look at him.

“Then look at me and say it” he steps towards you.

“You should go home to Mina”

“Shut up” he takes another step forward and you can feel him towering over you. “Look at me and tell me you don’t love me”

You choke on a sob and press the back of your hand against your lips.

“Look at me y/n” Jeongguk presses.

You shake your head in response.

“Please”

You shake your head again.

“The only way to get over this is to tell each other how we feel” he steps towards you once again, and places his hands on your shoulders and presses his forehead to yours. “Please look at me” he whispers.

He pulls back to look at you and you finally find the courage deep within yourself to look at him too.

“I love you” he exhales and closes his eyes, waiting for your response.

Something breaks inside you. Whatever inhibition was holding you back vanishes the moment you hear those three words from him.

“I love you too” you reply before you can even think about it. The weight of those words you had been carrying around for three years lifts. You feel light like a load has been taken from you. Your tense body relaxes, and your frantic breathing begins to even out. There is a sense of relief beyond all the other layers of emotions you feel. If you had known you would feel so much better after telling him, you would have done it years ago.

*********

As it turns out moving on isn’t exactly easy.

As it turns out, you still love Jeon Jeongguk

As it turns out, Jeon Jeongguk still loves you.

It also happens to be that Jeon Jeongguk is still with Kim Mina and you are back to square one.

But not completely because one single revelation is about to change things.

“You did what!” you blink at Mina, slightly unable to comprehend what she said.

“IkissedHoseokandthenweslepttogether” she mumbles quickly and avoids eye contact, pretending to be busy doing something on her laptop.

“I am sorry” you crouch in front of her. “You kissed Hoseok and then you slept together?”

She nods, shutting her laptop and hiding her face behind her hands.

“Mina! Oh my god!” you fall on your butt.

“I know. I know” she whines and topples over on the couch, still hiding behind her hands.

“I thought you and Jeongguk were trying to work things out” you look at her wide-eyed, hardly able to believe it.

She finally reveals her face. “We are, or were. But things have been different between us. Since that fight we had when Hoseok came over, Jeongguk been different. I mean I can’t say I am hurt because I am not. He’s avoiding me and to be honest I am relieved he is!” she whines. “That night when you left to go check up on Jeongguk, Hoseok really helped me and then he told me he likes me and then he leaned in for a kiss and I kissed him and then we slept together. That night I realized I like him too” she rambles to explain herself.

“Then why in the world did you try to set me up with him?” your face contorts in confusion.

“I just thought that pushing him towards someone else would force me to move on. And I knew that if it happened to be you, I wouldn’t act on my feelings” she exhales. Oh, this is the worst thing ever”.

You knew all too well what she meant and the fact that she would back off if Hoseok got together with you makes you feel even worse because you couldn’t do the same with Jeongguk. “Do you love Hoseok?” you question.

“I guess. I mean I am not sure. But I do know I don’t feel anything with Jeongguk anymore. I feel suffocated around him. I love him y/n. I do. I truly do and I only want the best for him. But I am not in love with him anymore”

“Does he know?” you ask.

“I don’t think so” she shakes her head.

Just when you thought things would start getting better, they just got worse. You love Jeongguk, Jeongguk loves you. Mina doesn’t love Jeongguk anymore, and she thinks she likes Hoseok. But Hoseok definitely loves her and you don’t know what Jeongguk feels for Mina.

Your head spins just thinking about it. “I need water” you announce from your position on the floor. You stand up slowly to avoid getting dizzy because lord knows you are on the verge of fainting. You slowly retreat back to the kitchen and pour two glasses of water. You head back to where Mina is and offer her one glass.

“So what now?” you ask once you had your fill of drink.

“I guess I have to talk to Jeongguk. Because we can’t do this” she sighs and so do you because who knows what is going to happen next?

*********

{3 weeks later}

The clock strikes at 8 pm. Mina isn’t home. She’s working late and you hope to God she isn’t fooling around with Hoseok because she and Jeongguk broke it off only three weeks ago. But you cannot control her life any more than you can control your own. Besides, she has the full liberty to make her own decisions as an adult. All you can do is make sure she doesn’t do anything that will harm or hurt her in any way.

You flip lazily through the channels, with your feet propped on the coffee table. All you need is a glass of wine in one hand and you would be the advertisement for a lazy Sunday. It’s been too long since you have had the apartment to yourself. The quiet save for the sounds of television is exactly the kind of relaxing environment you need. Sometimes solitude is the best company one can have.

Your stomach grumbles as a commercial plays on TV depicting the perfect, juiciest steak you have ever seen. So it is naturally a given that you abandon your perch and head to the kitchen to fix up some food. Rummaging through the refrigerator all you find are a few eggs, some asparagus, a carton of milk, a loaf of bread that is expired and some apples. You really need to go buy groceries.

You look through the pantry to see if you can find something. You find a bag of chips hidden in the corner so you settle for it. You drag your feet across the marble floor and make your way to the living room. Settling down back in your spot you turn up the volume.

Just then the bell rings and you get up with a sigh and make your way towards the door. Through the security system monitor you see Jeongguk standing on the other side of the door.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit” you panic because you are in no shape to be seen by Jeongguk in your PJ’s, with dishevelled hair, and bits of chips on your shirt. You run back to the living room and fix the coffee table, and shove the bag of chips underneath one of the cushions. Running to your room, you quickly take off your PJ’s and grab whatever comes into your hand as you throw open your closet. It’s a white shirt and you grab a random pair of jeans. The shirt gets stuck on your head because in a panic you end up trying to put the sleeve through your neck. Once you figure out the shirt mess, you fix your hair up in a ponytail, while another bell rings at the door.

“Coming!” you shout and race to the door skidding to halt right in front of it. You take a few deep breaths and compose yourself as you place your hand on the doorknob. You unlock the door and try to put on your best smile.

“Hey! Come in” you usher him inside.

He hangs his jacket on the coat hanger by the door and goes to the living room.

“Do you want anything to drink?” you ask as he settles on the sofa with a thud, and you proceed to the kitchen.

“Water will be good” he rubs his face and rests his neck against the back of the couch. “Do you know where Mina left the box of my stuff?” he calls out.

“In her room!” you call out and hear faint footsteps going in the direction of her room.

You go back out into the living room with a glass of water and leave it on the coffee table for him. Just then he comes out carrying a big brown box of his stuff and he leaves it by the door under the coat hanger.

He comes back to the living and you notice he’s staring at you with raised eyebrows.

“What?” you question, patting your cheeks and your face to see if you have something on your face.

“Your shirt is on inside out,” he says and presses his lips together to hold in his laughter. But you can see his chin quivering, and his eyes getting glossy.

“Fuck” you look down and sure enough it is inside out. You collapse onto the couch grabbing one of the cushions and hiding your face behind it.

You hear him break out into laughter and feel the sofa dip beside you. He continues laughing for a good minute and for the duration you ensure to keep your face hidden behind the cushion.

“I am sorry” he chokes out between laughs. “It’s too funny”

“Yeah. My misery is obviously funny” you mumble against the cushion

You look up to find him bent over his knees, holding his belly. “ Sorry” he laughs.

“It’s your fault” you pout at him.

“Me?” he points to himself, chest still heaving with the effort of laughing.

“Yes. You showed up so suddenly, unannounced I didn’t want you to see me in my PJ’s and bedhead hair”

“You didn’t have to do that you know?”

“Yes, I did. You would have never let me live it down if you saw me like that” you try to suppress a smile.

“That is true” he nods.

He looks around the living room and peeks his head into the kitchen.

“Have you eaten yet?” he questions.

“I was actually going to buy groceries. We’re out”

“Let’s go then” he stands up and offers you his hand.

“You want to come with me?” you look at him in question.

“How could I ever miss the chance of grocery shopping with you? It’s so domestic” he grins, clearly enjoying the idea of domesticity more than anything else.

“I’ll just go fix my shirt” you tell him to wait and within thirty seconds you are out and by the door

“I didn’t know you wanted to do this so bad” you ask him as you crouch to the floor and tie shoelaces.

“I am a free man now y/n. I can finally follow my heart” he offers you his hand and once you place your hand in his, he interlocks your fingers and leads you out.

*********

The mart is close by so you and Jeongguk decide to walk. The whole way there you walk hand in hand, swinging your arms like children and laughing for no reason other than pure excitement.

You arrive at the store and you are about to let go of his hand to grab a shopping cart, but he pulls you back and shakes his head. Instead, he grabs the cart with his free hand and maneuvers it like he’s done it a hundred times.

“I am not letting go of your hand” he squeezes tighter.

“I can see that. But you know it’s a little impractical” you motion to the cart which is going sideways instead of going forward. He fixes it so it movies in a straight line

“I have wanted to do this since the first night we met. I have wanted to spend time with you for so long, so now I am going to make up for it. No matter how weird, crazy, or impractical you think it is” you walk hand in hand around the store.

“It’s only been three weeks since you and Mina broke up” you remind him. “Isn’t this too fast?”

“A month, technically. Anyway, one, we broke up mutually because we both fell out of love with each other and fell in love with different people. Two, it’s not fast for me because I have waited years for this. Three, I want everyone to know how I feel about you. In fact, I want you to know how I feel about you because I am sick of hiding it”

You stop in your tracks and tug him by his hand towards yourself. “How do you feel about me?”

Jeongguk stares at your eyes and then your lips. “Fuck it” he mumbles and he presses his lips to yours. His hands enclose your waist and he pulls you in further. You rest your hands on his shoulders and melt into the kiss. It’s everything you imagined it would be and more. He feels like home and never in your life have you felt calmer than that moment. No heart racing, no tight knots in your stomach. Nothing. Only a sense of calm that washes over you as he holds you in his arms and spills all his love into the kiss. It is tender and soft. His lips are warm against yours, and his kisses are even warmer. He pulls back to look at you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Perfect” he murmurs as he cups your cheeks. Then he kisses your forehead, your left cheek, right cheek. He plants a soft kiss on your nose followed by a quick peck on the lips.

You giggle like a little girl. “I did not take you for the romantic type”

“I’ll show you just how romantic I am” he entwines your hands once more and hurriedly leads you out of the grocery store.

*********

You are completely pressed between the wall and Jungkook as he kisses you. You gasp as his lips trail down your neck. He stops to look at you, as if for confirmation.

“Just kiss me” you pull him in by grasping the fabric of his shirt and he doesn’t hesitate.

He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist, kissing him as if you will never have tomorrow with him. He leaves gentle kisses everywhere and you don’t know if you have ever felt this euphoric in your life ever before. Every part he touches is left in goosebumps and tingles.

“I love you” he breathes against your lips as he captures them again in a kiss.

“I love you too” you gasp as his hand traverses down your abdomen.

And love you, he does. It’s an indescribable feeling to be wrapped up in each other, limbs tangled, soft kisses left here and there. His hands never rest for a single second because he wants to explore every inch of your body. He wants to know you in a way no one has ever known you before. You lose count of how many times you come undone as you lie in his arms and he shows you how much he loves you.

*********

The next morning Jeongguk acts like a baby and doesn’t let you get out of bed.

“One more kiss and I promise I’ll let you go” he whines and grasps your wrist and tugs you back into bed. You are helplessly pinned underneath him.

“Fine one more” you tap his lip with your index finger. He pushes your finger away and his lips are onto yours once again. Unlike the first time he kissed you, this feels more rushed like he’s scared he that he’ll never have another day with you.

“I could do this all day long “he mumbles as he pulls away.

“Unfortunately for you Mr. Jeon Jeongguk. I don’t have all day to do this” you shove him and he falls on his back on the bed.

“Yes you do” he sits up on his elbows and stares at you with a suggestive look in his eyes. “Round 2?” he questions.

“No more rounds Jeongguk. I have to go back to the apartment and figure stuff out” you pull your shirt over your head. You sit at the edge of the bed and put your pants back on. The bed dips behind you and you feel Jeongguk’s arms enclose around your abdomen and his chin rests on your shoulder. He kisses your cheek gently.

“There is nothing to figure out” he whispers close to your ear.

“Yes. There is the matter of telling Mina about us” you place your hands on his arms and lean into his chest.

Jeongguk sighs and digs his forehead into your shoulder. “I know” he mumbles.

“So” you pat his arms. “Let go of me so that I can go and figure it out for us. Plus it’s her birthday in 2 weeks and I want her to know before then to save everyone any drama that might occur because of us.”

“Us” Jeongguk muses. “I like the sound of that”

*********

The silence weighs heavy in the air. Mina is chewing on her lip as she deliberates what she has been told. She mumbles and nods to herself which kind of scares you because she only does that when she is angry.

“Say something” you look at her in concern.

“Well, there is nothing to say y/n. He loves you and you love him. I am just mad for not seeing it sooner. I should have picked on it” she sighs in frustration. “Looking back at it, to be honest, I don’t think we ever loved each other” she muses the last part to herself.

“I am a terrible friend, aren’t I?” you try to swallow back the tears.

“No!” she moves closer to you and wraps one arm around you. “If anything, I have been a bad friend to both you and Jeongguk. We should have broken it off a long time ago”

“Doesn’t make me feel any better. I know you loved him. But I still had these feelings for him. I swear to you I tried my hardest to forget about him. I even dated people I shouldn’t have dated just to distract myself from Jeongguk. I thought maybe I would meet someone worthwhile and I would forget him. But I couldn’t and I am sorry. I am a terrible person and a worse friend”

“I am not going to lie. It’s a little bit weird. I mean you and Jengguk. It feels strange to even say it and I am going to need time to adjust to it and it’s not because I am hurt or disappointed in both of you. I am perfectly okay with you guys dating because Jeeongguk and I were over a long time ago. We just held on because we were too scared to hurt each other” she pauses to look at you and you nod for her to continue. “But I have no feelings for him. It’ll just take me time to get used to seeing you with him just because I dated him too once and now he’s with my best friend. I hope you understand”

Of course, you understood.

“Thanks, Min” you wrap your arms around her in a hug.

“I am happy for you babe” she squeezes you gently.

*********

Jeongguk’s late.

He’s not winning himself favours by being late. You tap your foot on the footrest of the barstool impatiently, quietly sipping your drink. A sports bar was the last place you wanted to be at, but of course, Mina wants to celebrate her birthday at a place that serves booze. You sigh and signal the bartender for another cocktail. You had no clue Mina knew so many people. But then again she is a social butterfly so there are close to one hundred people present. Somehow she even managed to get a small section of the place cordoned off for her birthday party.

You look at your wristwatch, and the clock keeps ticking. Yet there is no sign of Jeongguk. You crane your neck to check the entrance but it’s as empty as ever.

“Where is your boyfriend?” Mina makes an appearance from her tight schedule as she has to keep floating around between different groups of friends she has.

“What boyfriend?” you scoff, annoyed by Jeongguk’s tardiness.

“Ooh” Mina winces. “He’s in trouble” Mina looks over your shoulder. “Speaking of” she motions her head towards the entrance and none other than Jeon Jeongguk is approaching you with a grin on his face. “That’s my cue” Mina leaves.

“Hi, there stranger” Jeongguk props himself up on the seat next to you.

“Hi” you avoid looking at him and keep your eyes affront.

“So what is a beautiful girl like you doing sitting alone at this bar?” he leans into the palm of his hand as he looks at you, a grin simmering at the corner of his lip.

“Waiting for my boyfriend” you sip your drink.

“Well he’s not a very good boyfriend if he’s making you wait”

“Clearly” you turn to face him.

“Hmm. How about we remedy that?” he offers you his hand.

“Are you making a pass at a committed woman?” you squint your eyes at him

“No. Just asking you for a walk outside” his lips curve into a smile. “Besides, I am a better man than your boyfriend”

“I think all men are the same” you slide your hand into his and he helps you down the stool. You then let go and walk past him towards the entrance.

Outside it’s dark. Cars and buses are passing by and the street is really busy.

“Are you still mad at me?” he slides his hand into yours and interlocks your fingers.

You huff. “I am not mad at you”

“You look mad” he turns on his heels and tugs at your arm to bring you closer and then wraps an arm around your waist. “I am sorry I was late, but I was getting this” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny red ring case.

“Are you…” your blink furiously as you glance between his face and the case in his hand.

In answer, he opens the ring case and you find one silver ring, embedded with his name on it.

“Jeongguk” you look at him as tears well up in your eyes.

He takes hold of your hand pulls out the ring and slides it onto your ring finger. “It’s a promise ring”

“A promise ring?”

“Jeongguk..” you whisper as your vision gets blurry. “I don’t have a ring” you choke on a sob as tears stream down your cheek. “But I promise that I will be honest with you every step of the way, I will offer you my unconditional support in whatever you choose to do, and that I will love you till the day that I die”

“I promise that each day I spend with you, I will love you. I will choose you every day knowing that you aren’t perfect. I promise I will give this relationship the best of me, and that I will honour your heart and your feelings for the rest of my life” He uses his thumbs to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.

“You remember when we met the first night at Mina’s house party?” Jeongguk holds both your hands in his as he faces you.

“Of course”

“Do you remember you asked me if I want in?”

You nod again because every single detail about that night is still fresh in your mind.

“Well, I want in. I am all in. With you” Jeongguk dips his head and places a chaste kiss on your lips.

And that was the fourth time in your life you felt like the wind had been knocked out you and it was always because of Jeon Jeongguk.

End.

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#bts #bts smut #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts jungkook #bts jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts jungkook angst #bts jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts writing

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reelperspective · 4 years

Text

I’m generally not the type to mourn celebrity deaths. It’s usually beyond me to truly mourn the passing of someone who is so completely removed from my life. I tend to reserve grief for personal losses. I would say that is still true - I don’t know if you could call what I’m feeling grief, but it’s definitely something akin to it.

When I heard that Naya Rivera had passed away in a drowning accident, I thought “my god that sucks. That glee cast is cursed or something.” Then I moved on with my life, as one does. I felt it in the moment because Santana was my favorite character (well her and Brittany), but I didn’t dwell on it. I hadn’t seen the show in years, so I felt removed from it.

Months later, I go down a YouTube recommended video rabbit hole and end up watching the Glee version of Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide. I’d always loved that cover of the song. From the moment I first heard it, I thought it was beautifully arranged and flawlessly executed, but I digress. The point is, after watching it, I started watching other Glee videos (again, recommended videos). At a certain point I thought, “fuck it, I haven’t seen this show in years. Maybe it’s time for a re-watch.” So, I started to binge watch it. It is just as hilarious and awesome as the first time. And again, just as the first time, Santana proved to be my favorite character.

I think that Santana was the most emotionally complex character on that show. I think she had a great arc as a character that started off not being very sympathetic at all, to becoming a character that people could really relate to and root for. She had a fascinating duality to her as the bully who sometimes had a heart. Her love for Brittany added a significant layer to her character - displaying a side of her that had previously been unseen. A side reserved only for Brittany- the exception to her rule. Which is remarkable because, being that she was an idiot, Brittany should have been an easy target for Santana’s ridicule. Later, Santana reveals in a rant against Rory the Irishman, that she believes Brittany to be beautiful, innocent, and “everything good in this miserable, stinking world.” This revelation spoke to the heart of the character because it showed that despite her blatantly “Evil” characteristics, what Santana truly values most is goodness and purity of spirit. Brittany was the only person Santana never insulted. You could say that this is because she loved Brittany. That’s a factor, for sure, but I think the main reason is that even she couldn’t tear down someone so innocent. This, and other instances of vulnerability, developed Santana into a more three dimensional character - someone real, rather than just the caricature of a mean girl.

Yes, it’s true that the writers can be credited for this nuance in her character, but I believe it can be argued that Naya highlighted these nuances flawlessly. She did a beautiful job of portraying Santana’s *reluctant* displays of humanity. Not to mention how fucking talented she was when it came to the singing and the dancing. Vocally she’s top three along with Amber Riley and Lea Michele - and she’s a better dancer than either of them.

I noticed all of these things during this recent re-watch of mine. I’d always enjoyed Santana’s viscious barbs and her scathing wit, but this time I gained a deeper appreciation of the character as well.

Why am I talking about the character when this post started off being about grief? Well, watching the show again really drove home what a goddamn tragedy it is for the world to lose someone so talented and hilarious. This feeling drove me to look into Naya as a person. I listened to her audio book, and I read what people have said about her, and the general consensus is that she was an all-around amazing individual. She was Kind but sassy, tough yet compassionate, funny and intelligent. I then watched some of her interviews, and her personality was positively magnetic. She always lead with a blunt honesty that she delivered with this matter-of-fact attitude and wry wit. She owned up to things that most people in her position would hide. Despite the bluntness, she never seemed tacky or crass. Then to add to these revelations is the observation that she so clearly loved her little son with a tremendous passion. I’m sure all celebrities love their children more than life itself, but most don’t speak out about it specifically or so frequently. Naya, on many occasions, spoke of her passion for motherhood, and how much it meant to her to be Josey’s mom. With all of the things she has accomplished, she credited her son as her greatest success. Topics that get repeated across many conversations tend to be subjects that the speaker is fairly obsessed with. It is clear that her son was her whole world. He was not only her responsibility and her greatest love, but also her greatest source of joy. I’m not surprised that she somehow found a way to save him even though she couldn’t save herself.

Which leads to the final straw on the camel’s back - the manner in which she died. As was mentioned previously, she saved her son - which kicks you right in the feels. He had to witness some of her final moments - kick #2. Then there’s the tragedy of the circumstances of the death itself. Drowning is a horrific way to die. She must have been so terrified in her final moments. To add to this is the fact that had any of a number of events transpired differently, she’d still be with us today. Had she not gone to the lake that day. Had she gone with at least one other adult. Had she not jumped out of the boat. Had she worn a life vest. Had the boat had an anchor and a ladder attached to It’s side.

Then I’m confused about how this all went down. Apparently, she was sucked under the water by a current - I guess the equivalent of an undertow - but I thought undertows only happened in the ocean! Considering that this is a lake - a man made one at that- and not a river or an ocean, where the fuck did this incredibly strong underwater current come from? A lake is pretty much stagnant water, is it not? I looked at a map of it, and from what I can tell, there are no rivers feeding into this lake. So, I’m confused and this death is not only tragic, but senseless.

It’s just so fucking sad - every which way you look at it. I feel it in my very soul, and as I said before, I never feel celebrity deaths like this. I can’t stop thinking about her poor child having to grow up without his mommy. I lost someone as a child, and it left an enormous hole in my heart. I remember feeling so profoundly and absolutely destroyed. There are no words to describe the depths of my despair, and I can’t help but think that Josey is feeling that now. Though I was older than he is - I don’t know how much his young mind can make sense of or process the reality of his mother’s death. I know for sure that he is feeling it - he will miss her forever. Ryan Dorsey, his father, released a statement in which he said that he had to explain to his son that his mother was in heaven, and Josey asked him how he could go there too so that he could be with her. That just breaks my heart - I know exactly how he feels. I can’t stop thinking about Naya’s mother and how she collapsed on the dock at Lake Piru and threw her hands out in a display of pure, all-consuming grief. As I’ve said, I’ve felt grief like that before. I’ve collapsed to my knees under the weight of it. So, I feel for her family and her friends. I saw an interview in which the actress who played Santana’s abuela says that Heather Morris was so distraught, she wanted to jump into the lake to search for Naya herself.

I also feel a keen sense of loss for all of the wonderful things she will never do, all of the hilarious things she had yet to say, and all of the characters she might have been destined to bring to life with a singular authenticity. Lastly, and least importantly, I feel this keenly because she and I are the same age. The reality of such a thing just slaps one in the face.

That being said, I keep having these moments of cognitive dissonance as I’m watching the show. I feel her loss so much, yet it seems like she’s not dead. She can’t be! Look at her. Look at how full of life she is. She’s so young. That can’t be the reality - but alas, it is. I keep remembering that it is, and the cycle of emotion starts up all over again.

I know that part of the reason for my deep feelings about this tragedy has to do with my own experience with loss. I’ve lost so many people in my lifetime - some of which, I’ve loved more than life itself. At least one of which, I had wanted to follow into the grave because I could not fathom my life without her in it - it just hurt too much.

So I lay this all out here on tumblr. It is very likely that no one will ever read it, and that’s okay. I just needed to express it anyway as it has been building up inside of me.

#naya rivera #naya rivera son #naya rivera death #gleek #glee #heather morris

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kyberphilosopher · 4 years

Text

𝐀𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚

The both of them were searching for someone whose demons would mirror their own.

Word Count: 5489

a·kra·sia/əˈkrāZH(ē)ə/ noun

“akrasia: the state of mind in which someone acts against their better judgment through weakness of will.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi had always been far too versed in the light side of the force for your taste. It was annoying, to say the least. The way the Jedi walked around like they’re better than everybody else, and then denying it. The narrow minded point of view. The ridiculous robes. It was all very exhausting to deal with.

The Jedi Order had no recollection of you. There was nothing to suggest you had ever been a part of them, or even ever fallen under the power of the Republic. Therefor, nobody knew where you came from.

Anakin and Master Kenobi simply encountered you one day as a General for the Separatist forces. You were also a Sith of some kind- they weren’t sure on the details. The very first fight ended with you nearly killing Anakin, Obi-Wan having to bandage his knee, and you receiving a scar from your left collarbone to your shoulder. Another time, you and Kenobi went head to head. You would’ve killed him, had Anakin not intervened.

So, Anakin didn’t like you very much. Fine with you.

The real prize was Obi-Wan.

As stated above, Kenobi was far too attached to the light for your liking. As far as you could tell, the man wasn’t tempted by the darkness in the slightest. This fact baffled you. You had seen what Kenobi’s life would be like if he became a Sith. He would’ve been far powerful than many of his fellow Jedi. You would've even been willing to venture that his skills would come close to your own! But, the man was inexplicably, irrationally, and annoyingly selfless.

Similarly, Obi-Wan had taken note of your own fatuous traits.

Obi-Wan, through all his goodness, had never thought you to be selfish. There were times where he saw you make selfish decisions, or act selfishly- but you were not selfish by nature. Obi-Wan knew, somewhere deep down, that you felt guilt at your bad deeds. Unfortunately, that distant guilt was not enough to stop you from being ruthless and cunning in battle. And for that, Obi-Wan felt that he had somehow failed you, even though he didn’t know anything about your previous life.

So, if Obi-Wan had to describe you, it could be summed up in a few words. Lethal. Intelligent. Devious. Unnerving. Powerful. Dealing with you was something that Obi-Wan never looked forward to, unlike Anakin, who was secretly rooting for it.

However, despite all your flaws, Kenobi shared something incredibly disturbing with you.

You were the one that had started it. The night of your first encounter, you couldn’t stop thinking about the man. He was just so... good. The way he fought used the third form of lightsaber combat- the one that focused more on defense than offense. So he wasn’t aiming to kill you, and he probably never would be. Baffling. You could sense that he wasn’t excessively good with the use of the force, but well enough. Kenobi was in no way attracted to power or stepping on others. This, in it’s entirety, is what made you decide to try a bit of psychological warfare.

You appeared to him in the night. Projecting yourself across the galaxy, across the moon and the stars, you let him see you. He couldn’t see where you were or where you were going to be, only you. Dressed in black robes and your hair tied back casually, you wore the little scratch Kenobi had given your cheek with pride.

While you were proud of this feat, Kenobi was caught off guard. He had just finished a conversation with Anakin about the young man was seriously skirting the line with the council, ending in Anakin walking away with thin lips. Obi-Wan sighed, glancing at the ground and leaning against the wall in deep thought.

He couldn’t explain what happened next. One blink, and it was the other half of the archive room. The walls glowed blue with technology and magic. The floor was a clean and sterile white. But then, it wasn’t. It wasn’t even really the archive room anymore. In the next blink, Kenobi was looking at the other half of a gray, blockish room. It reminded him very much of a Venator, especially with the giant window that gave a view of the trillions of stars against the ink black heavens.

And, of course, you were there in the middle.

Obi-Wan perked up in shock. His blue eyes widened, his shoulder coming off the wall as his lips parted. You stayed still, your hands clasped behind your back as a smirk danced across the corners of your mouth.

“Hello, my dear Obi-Wan,” you greeted slyly. “What’s the matter? Did you miss me already?”

Obi-Wan took only a second to understand the situation. He wasn’t sure how you were doing this, or a certainty as to why. Still, he was a smart man, and he saw that if this was how the night would go, then so be it.

“Oh, of course,” he answered with equal tone. His own lips were curling up into a smile, the way they did when Ventress tried to pull dialogue like this with him. The only difference was that he truly preferred you doing this instead of her. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten about me.”

“How could I forget the man with such a clean technique?” you quipped back. Your right hand raised up to gesture at the dark red injury on your face.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow smugly. The retort he had thought of was not even a true one, but he knew how this banter would go. “I suppose any technique would appear clean to you, Y/N.”

Yes. There it was. That little twitch in your lips that revealed the Jedi had struck a nerve. “Oh, and here I was believing Ventress when she told me you were a gentleman.”

“Did she? Why don’t you tell me where she’s going to be next so I can talk to her about it myself?”

“Does it matter?” you questioned. Step one of throwing him off was complete. Now it was time for step two- sowing doubts. “You’ve already lost the war. You’re going to lose the battle, too.”

“That’s bold talk from you,” Obi-Wan challenged.

“I’d call it truthful gossip,” you mused. “And in case you’d forgotten, I almost killed your precious padawan today.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but take a sharp, defensive step forward. “Anakin is more than capable of holding his own.”

“But you care about him,” you ventured. Your grin was becoming more and more poisonous as you began to waltz around the area. You knew exactly what you were doing, and Obi-Wan knew that. “What’s going to happen when you’re forced to kill him? Ah, I can only wonder.”

Kenobi was at a loss for words. His eyes were flitting back and forth between your own, trying to make sense of your statements. Were you lying to him? Was this part of the obvious ploy to upset him? If so, it was working. He cared for Anakin. He couldn’t imagine harming the man he called his brother.

“Oh, how I wonder,” you smirked finally. Then you turned away from Obi-Wan, and he was left alone in the Archive room again, as if you were never even there.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

The next time you had come to him, things ended differently.

It was days before your third encounter, and your second fight. The last time you’d seen him, he’d only caught a glimpse of you smirking before disappearing into the depths of the ship and most likely the escape pods. But this time, Kenobi and Cody had hatched a brilliant plan to intercept you outside Christophsis. During the battle to attempt to slow your troops, Anakin and Obi-Wan would infiltrate your ship and attempt to subdue you. There was no way you could reach the escape pods this time- a new confrontation was inevitable.

While Obi-Wan leaned over the holotable, studying the battle plans and maps, he stroked his beard thoughtfully. His blue eyes glinted in the glow of the room, sparkling like two little planets. Even you had to admit, the General had a beautiful, analytical brain that everyone could take a few lessons from. This only spurred you on more in your endeavor to ruin him, however.

“What’re you looking at?” you mused.

Obi-Wan stiffened upright, focusing on your voice. He knew you hadn’t somehow sneaked your way onto the ship at least, which left the second most likely scenario more realistic.

“I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure that out,” he said. Obi-Wan turned around, careful to leave one hand looming over the button that turned the table back to simple planets. In a swirl, the maps and plans were gone, replaced with artificial stars and systems projected into the air. The ocean light of the room fell over your features faintly, which confused the Jedi for a second. The only colors he had ever seen as shadows with you were the deep red from your lightsabers. Usually, they were so angry and stark that you looked menacing.

Make no mistake- you were menacing. Obi-Wan would never be foolish enough to think that you weren’t. But in the sapphire light, you reminded him of a Jedi. You looked- dare he say it?- pretty. Softer. Is that what you could’ve been at one point? A Jedi? Soft, and pretty?

“You flatter me,” you purred as you dipped your head. “I almost really believed you weren’t a gentleman.” You gave Obi-Wan the moment to respond, but he did not take the possibility. In fact, you could see that he was clearly raking his eyes over your face in search of some kind of answer. Perhaps you should do the same.

“Tell me,” you continued. “How does the gentleman intend to capture the lady tomorrow?”

You took note of the faint wrinkles under his eyes. They weren’t from age or ailment, but lack of sleep and too much experience. There were few marks on his face, but still noticeable. No, they didn’t make him appear unattractive or undesirable, but instead gave him a sort of character. Did he have scars along his body? Was there ever a foe who marked him forever? Sure, you had scratched the Jedi with your lightsaber not too long ago, but it was nothing that wouldn’t eventually fade. Even then, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done the same to you. Your cheek was still streaked with a thin, pink gash that had begun to heal as a part of your flesh from what Kenobi had done to you.

“Perhaps the gentleman would rather avoid conflict all together?” Kenobi mused. Ever the polite one, this man. “Perhaps you could turn yourself in now and save yourself the troops?”

You scoffed audibly. It was close to a laugh, but not quite. Did Sith’s laugh? “You are easily mistaken if you believe I care for the lives of a few clankers.”

“Clankers? Spending some time with the Clones, are we?”

“I’ve had enough of them in my detention cells to know what kind of language they use,” you said with a promise. In truth, you had captured a few Clone troopers, but that wasn’t how you had picked up the term ‘clanker’. You had gathered it after hearing some Clone describe it while listening in on transmissions. Finding it catchy and somewhat clever, you adopted it yourself.

“Is that something you enjoy?” Obi-Wan quizzed. He took a step forward, his hands coming together with bent arms to hide each other in the length of his sleeves.

No, actually. It wasn’t. You’d never cared much for torture. Sure, you had used it when you had to, but it had never been your first resort. You had no explanation for this. It just didn’t seem high up on your priorities list.

“Now, who doesn’t love a good torture chamber?” you quipped.

Unfortunately for you, it was too late for that kind of response. Obi-Wan had somehow seen the fault in your face. Maybe he saw your brow twitch, or your eyes dull, or your throat catch- you couldn’t say. But he had seen it.

Obi-Wan nodded once, his lips still upturned at the stimulation from the interaction. “I don’t believe you.”

You weren’t sure where to go now. Your cocky and sarcastic features were beginning to fade away, replaced with a slow and diminishing frown.

“Give up this fight,” Kenobi ventured. “If you turn yourself in now, you’ll avoid bloodshed. We both know that’s what you want.”

You swallowed dryly. Did you want that? To avoid bloodshed? You hadn’t minded it in the past, but there were times when you found enough of it distasteful. Could tomorrow’s battle be one of those times?

“A Sith does not negotiate with the weak,” you finally answered. Once more, your face hardened back to it’s original expression. Menacing.

Obi-Wan wondered if he should’ve said the next words. He played them over in his mind several times in the next second, before finally deciding on giving them a try. “Then perhaps, you are not a Sith.”

Your eyes widened at the statement. It struck a million things inside of you- anger, frustration, wonder, longing, embarrassment, astonishment, fear- everything. Your lungs tightened so much in your chest, they felt sore. From the sheer impact of Kenobi’s words, you took a step back defensively.

Then you disappeared again.

Obi-Wan stumbled backwards, hand reaching to clutch his heart. A dull headache had immediately begun forming in his temples, thrumming around like a growing drill. His lungs felt like they had had all the air kicked from them. His right cheek stung in the shape of a straight, thin line. Struggling to catch his breath, the Jedi reached his free hand back to grip onto the edge of the holotable for support.

Mirroring the man, you jolted back as his form vanished. Your feet slipped from under you, and one of your knees was now angrily demanding your attention. Your bottom hit the floor flatly as your chest heaved up and down, gasping for the breath you had somehow lost. A bead of sweat had singularly formed on the side of your face in something like terror and shock.

Neither you, nor Obi-Wan could explain this.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

By the third... ‘projection’ between you and Obi-Wan, you had met eachother on the battlefield six times, and Anakin five. The scar Kenobi had given you from your first encounter had softened significantly. Even so, it would remain forever. As much as you hated it, you had spent several nights awake thinking of how it was like a kind of mark he had made on you. Not quite something that ‘claimed’ you, per say, but a type of signature. A permanent autograph or stain that was made by the person who bothered you the most.

Ventress, who was probably the closest thing you had to a friend, had told you it was awfully seductive in her overly sweet voice. While her hand caressed your cheekbone, the heaviness of your heart only briefly softened before falling back.

But the third projection was different. You were not the one who initiated it. In fact, after your second meeting, you were perfectly happy to never interact with Kenobi again, unless you were fighting. During those combative moments, you could put your deep thoughts aside in order to accomplish your mission.

But this time was not a combative moment. And yet, you were having some trouble accomplishing your mission.

“Go on,” your master commanded in his low voice. “Execute the younglings.”

Your lightsabers were in your hands, crossed over each other. When you would pull them apart, the sabers would slice out, and heads would roll. That’s what was bothering you. The heads reminded you very much of your young nephew, who had turned six not too long ago.

You couldn’t remember why you had to do this. All you could remember was that Count Dooku was telling you to do it, and his patience would not last forever. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to kill younglings. They hadn’t done anything wrong, and they had no place in the war.

And thus, this was why you were hesitating. Every time you thought you had the surge of energy to do the deed, your heart pounded so hard your arms stayed stiff.

“Is it really so hard?” Count Dooku said tautly. His eyes narrowed in disappointment at you, frown deepening.

And then, Kenobi’s voice called out to you. Like an angel, or a kind of conscious, you could see him so clearly in front of you, it was like you were actually speaking to him.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows were furrowed together in concern as he looked you up and down. He could see your stance, and the force surrounding you so intensely. He could analyze the sweat forming, your heart rate that matched his own. Your expression was laced with anguish and conflict, and he just knew you were about to do something you didn’t want to do. Obi-Wan understood that you were about to kill.

“Where are you?” he asked.

You couldn’t answer. You would’ve looked like you were talking to yourself, and how horrible would that have been in front of Master Dooku? Instead, you only open and closed your chapped lips softly. Your eyebrows twitched.

“What are you waiting for?” Dooku boomed at you.

Obi-Wan leaned back and widened his eyes at the recognition of the voice. “Y/N, whatever you’re about to do, don’t.”

“If you’re unable to do this, my young apprentice, I will have to find someone more suitable.”

You squeezed your eyes tight.

“Don’t!” Obi-Wan called.

You didn’t stop yourself. You so desperately wanted to. But you didn’t.

Your arms sliced apart. The searing hum buzzed through the air crisply, followed by multiple thumps against the ground.

“Very good,” your master praised coolly from behind you. Even with your eyes shut tight, you could tell he had a cold smirk of relief resting on his face. “Meet me back at my ship.”

You opened your eyes slowly. Your skin felt sticky with sweat, and every muscle in your body was tightened up. Your shoulders and neck felt sore, and even your eyelashes felt heavy. The familiar weight of guilt sunk into your stomach so much more solid than ever before. Maybe it was because you had just committed something so terrible in front of one of the most noble people in the galaxy. Maybe it was just the sheer and straight anxiety that came with doing something you knew was against your better judgement.

Obi-Wan looked at you silently. He knew what you had done. He knew the irreversible, evil and disproportionate thing that you had done.

But now, he also knew that you needed help. You looked at him with pure fear and shame, and he could see how vulnerable and inhumanly human you were. He could tell, for a fact, that you would never be a real Sith. Did you have fear? Anger? Hate? Were you suffering? Yes. But you were not evil. Obi-Wan might’ve even dared to say that you were incapable of being so.

You tore yourself away when Count Dooku called your name from the ship. Eyes darting between his blue orbs. The first step you took away from him, you evaporated into thin air, and Obi-Wan was alone in his ship once more.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

The fourth time was the one that changed everything.

You had only faced Obi-Wan and Anakin one time since he saw you kill the younglings, and unfortunately, Obi-Wan had also noticed you had a split second to kill him during the fight. Obviously, you hadn’t taken it.

Your hands balled and unballed themselves against your knees. Palms sweaty, your whole abdomen had begun feeling like shaky jelly. Ever since the day with the younglings, you had begun to lose weight. You felt weaker, even though the darkness inside of you told you to feel so good. The circles under your eyes had darkened and deepened, and several lines had appeared on your face to make you look far more detached.

You look unhealthy and unhinged, to be frank.

Luckily, Ventress was there to tell you you still appeared inherently ‘handsome’.

Your lungs pierced themselves and screamed with every breath.

A hand reached out to touch your own, your left.

You only allowed yourself a few moments to look it over. You observed the veins through it, the strength and width. It was a man’s, and a rather wise man’s at that. You could see little divots and callouses from work with a lightsaber, and clean nails that showed the owner had no time to bite at them anxiously. Despite how much you hated touching, you felt yourself sinking into the simple touch from the hand. It was, to be direct, the most comforting thing that had ever happened to you.

Still, you gripped a hold of your heart, and shot your hand away. Your head raised to meet the owners eyes.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, though you hated to admit it, had the eyes that you found yourself looking for often. Whether it was to avoid him, or find a comfort deep down, you did it. They were dapper and blue and deep, and changed in the shades of the sunlight. In contrast to his strawberry blonde hair, they shown and glimmered like an ocean.

Obi-Wan felt the same about your own. Your eyes were conflicted and obviously conveyed several emotions, but also held a history that captivated him. He felt that they deserved everyone’s captivation. He wanted to study them like he would an ancient story, and memorize every changing detail within them. Even with the tired darkness underneath, he felt that they were uniquely beautiful in their own way.

“Why are you here?” you seethed lowly.

Obi-Wan glanced down, and then back up honestly. “I heard you calling out.” Before you could scoff, Obi-Wan quickly added, “I felt it.”

You shook your head. “I wasn’t calling out. I would never call out for you.”

The man swallowed, determining the best approach. “I know that you are angry, but I’m here to help you.”

Kenobi’s tone was sincere, but you wouldn’t- couldn’t- believe it. “Help me?” you scoff. “I don’t need help.”

The Jedi tilted his head at you, looking deeply into your eyes. His orbs were piercing and infinite, it seemed. “You know that’s not true.”

At that, your anger washed away. A frown came down over you. Your eyebrows knitted themselves together in pain. Your eyes became rimmed with simultaneously hot and cold tears. Cheeks grew pink enough to totally disguise Obi-Wan’s signature.

The way he was looking at you was just so intimate and understanding. Never, not in your whole life, had somebody done this. It seemed, in fact, that Kenobi could see right through you. He could feel you. He could feel your heart, your ribs, your tendons, and your pain. He could feel the soreness in your muscles, how tired your head felt. He wanted, more than anything, for you to have a rest. The Dark Side had done everything it was ever going to do for you. You didn’t need this weight any longer. Obi-Wan wanted to know how you would look when you laughed.

Your head hung down as your first sob came out. Your fists balled even tighter together, both returning to your knees.

Feeling his respect for you, mixed with your sadness, Obi-Wan reached his hand out again. His palm ran over your right fist for the second time, and this time you did not rip away. Instead, your own fingers unraveled and relaxed. The Jedi ran his thumb over your angry knuckles and your cunning fingers, silently keeping you close, even though you were far, far away.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

You did not see Obi-Wan in projections again.

Some weeks later, you had however, seen him in his entirety.

Your ship was on fire. Some stupid clanker had miscalculated and allowed your fleet to settle right into General Skywalker’s attack. With every jolt, you stumbled and struggled to maintain balance. Your internal conflict had been continuing to cause you to lose weight in the worst way, and it had recently gotten hard enough to keep yourself upright.

Finally reaching the hanger, you heaved in exertion. Somewhere, Obi-Wan was outside, either flying around or searching for you aboard. You found, to your nightmare, you had missed him terribly in this exact moment.

The igniting hum of a lightsaber made you raise your brows. In the middle of the hanger, with sparks falling from above, was that young Togruta girl. The Skywalker padawan. What was her name again? Aheka? Aurora? Ahsoka? Yeah, Ahsoka.

She glares at you angrily. Her face is scrunched in determination, something that reminds you so much of Anakin himself. Both her sabers were at the ready, and her stance was that of one about to pounce.

Yes, Ahsoka was trained by someone powerful. This, however, did not mean that she was a match for you. If you fought this one without restraint, you would undoubtedly kill her. You did not want to do that.

“Hello, General,” she taunted. Definitely Anakin’s padawan. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Despite your exhaustion and the sharp pain in your ribs, you answered her sincerely. “Please,” you called out. “Please, move aside. I don’t want to fight you.”

Ahsoka’s eyes narrow at you. “You’re under custody of the Galactic Republic now. If you won’t fight, you’ll be detained.”

You shook your head, exhausted and defeated. “I can’t go with you. I won’t fight you, but I won’t go with you.”

Darkly, the Togruta replied to you. “Then I will make you.”

She launched forward from the balls of her feet. In a flash, you managed to take out one of your sabers and switch it on. The red clashed against the green in defense, making you lean back before pushing forward.

No. You would not kill Ahsoka Tano.

You are very strict about playing offense in the next minute. The only time you ever actually strike the young one is when your blades catch each other.

Not so far away, a voice yells, “Snips!”

Ahsoka Tano looks at her master. You identify Anakin quickly enough, and seize the opportunity. Your leg snaps up against the Togruta’s stomach. She crumples on herself with a gasp, and you push her to the ground before moving past her.

As you sprint as fast as you can, you can hear Skywalker scream, “Ahsoka!”

You move down the hallway as fast as you can. You have to get to the escape pods. The hanger is no longer an option. Either that, or find Obi-Wan.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

It doesn’t take you long to find him. You stand at the opposing side of the bridge, your breathing rapid as your headache tortures your temples. There was so much pain inside of you, falling off your robes and your skin like steam. You just wanted this all to end. You wanted to be free. At this point, you didn’t care if it was from the Dark Side, or the Light Side.

And Obi-Wan knew that.

As he finished analyzing you to make sure that, no, you wouldn’t hurt him, he took a tentative step forward.

You looked terrible. Kenobi wanted to fix that.

“Y/N,” he called calmly. “I am here to help you.”

You nodded your head, suddenly feeling very hot. “I know,” you confess. Your lip quivers under the weight of everything- the pain, the anger, the frustration, the conflict, the admiration for Kenobi. He looked so handsome now, even with the ever growing danger surrounding the both of you. “I need help,” you admit, voice breaking. “P-please help me.”

Obi-Wan walked quickly to you, sensing your weakness. He knew that at any moment, you were going to collapse both outside and in. Your turmoil had bubbled over, your Akrasia breaking whatever spirit you had left. He knew that you were too tired to feel darkness now. You had nothing left to fear, anger, hate, or suffer over.

“Obi-Wan,” you said shakily. Your hands came up to rub your arms as if you were cold. “I love you.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi knew how selfish it was to replay the words over in his head at the moment. He just couldn’t help it.

You had always been radiating. You had always been strong and worthy of admiration. When you struggled with your guilt, you struggled with your deeds, and that gave Obi-Wan hope. You had restored his faith all on your own, and he had already known that it was worthy of being expelled from the Order. But this was you. This was the woman he had grown to care for, like a mold to fit into, and had come to understand. The Jedi felt hungry for that. He felt hungry to know you. To analyze you. To help you.

“I know,” the man said, sincerely and slowly. Against his better judgement, and the rocking of the falling ship, his right hand reached out to cup your face. Your skin was warm. Slightly sticky from the sweat, but Obi-Wan didn’t mind. “I know.”

His other hand opened up. His calloused and strong palm revealed itself to you, drawing your attention, and reminding you of the night that he had held your own inside. “Y/N, I need to know if you will follow me.” Obi-Wan paused, looking into your eyes. This was his confession. His begging, his pleading, his longing, was a confession for the love he felt for you. “I need you to come with me. You must leave this behind.” Then Obi-Wan swallowed. “Come with me. Please.”

The both of you were betraying your Orders.

Your right hand came to meet his. Palms against palms, skin against skin, you connected. You could feel Obi-Wan’s need and frustration, and he could feel your longing and fear.

“Yes,” you said, tiredly. “Yes. I’ll go with you.”

And, in that moment, you could see a life with Obi-Wan.

He would not leave the Jedi. You knew that for sure. But you would go back to Scarif, where you were born. On a shore, near the crystal blue waters, Obi-Wan would build you a house. He could visit when he had the time, holding you in your sleep to protect you from the oncoming nightmares, and you could kiss the scars on his back. Every time he would leave, your heart would break, but he would always bring you something small to apologize. Perhaps you could start to draw again? Obi-Wan would’ve loved to draw with you. He could teach you how to meditate, and clear your thoughts. Somewhere deep in the ground, you’d bury your lightsabers and never touch them again. On top of that ground, Obi-Wan would hold your form tightly as his skin moved against your own. Everything would be like a song, and maybe one day, you could give him a new verse. You could give him a child. You could have peace. Not fake peace, but real peace. The kind of peace that follows the storm, and lingers til the end of your days.

A choke escapes your throat.

You feel your lungs quiver in weakness, then refuse to allow any more air in. Obi-Wan watches your face change from sorrowful, to shocked. Your mouth agape, eyes wide, you suddenly go very, very pale. He feels you still yourself upright, and he tells himself the blue blade in your chest isn’t real.

Anakin pulls the lightsaber out of you. Your pupils dilate as the blood begins to drip from your nose thinly. You can’t think, you can’t even move. You cripple to the ground without choice.

Obi-Wan Kenobi keeps you close to him as you die. He has nothing to say to either Anakin or yourself, and he knows there is nothing he can do to heal you. He watches you watch him, your vision fading in and out as you try to memorize every detail of Kenobi’s face for the last time. Your vision of a life with him becomes nothing more than a distant memory and a sad dream, and you don’t know when it ended.

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Obi-Wan burned and buried you in secret.

The Jedi had loved you, and he had known you enough to see that you deserved respect. You were not to be shipped off into the ground like any old Sith. You were to be cared for, and cradled until the end. Even in death, he wanted to help you.

And perhaps, simply that statement alone, was his greatest form of Akrasia.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*

Taglist: @omg-we-really-doo @chokemeanakin @typicalfanlife

This is the version that was requested. Please let me know how you feel and if you noticed any errors! I wrote this while I was very tired, and I may want to tweak some things.

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griffelkinn · 5 years

Text

All the Transwomen I Met

I've felt the need to write this and share it, for a few years.

About 5 years ago, I moved to San Francisco. I didn't know anyone in the entire state, so I spent a lot of time and effort meeting new people, and going to social events, and accepting invitations from most everybody who invited me to anything. I met a ton of people.

When I moved out there, I didn't really know anything at all about transgender people. I was told about that idea pretty quick once I got there. I thought it was really great that people were comfortable being themselves. The idea that men who enjoyed wearing stereotypically "women's" clothes, were becoming more comfortable doing that. And the idea that men were rejecting stereotypes of men that were forced onto them from childhood, so they could be themselves without shame. And the reverse... women rejecting uncomfortable stereotypes of women so they could be happy. It was an exciting idea that if more and more people started doing this, it would become more and more obvious that none of the stereotypes about what women are like and men are like are actually real. Sexism would be almost completely done away with!

I wish that was what happened. I was really excited to see it happen.

But that isn't what happened. Something bad happened.

In San Francisco, there were a LOT of transwomen. And so while I was meeting all of those people, and doing all that socializing, I ended up meeting and becoming acquaintances with a lot of transwomen. I have written a brief description of literally every single transwoman who I became friends with or got to know at all. I left none out. There are nine. I have felt like this was very important for me to share.

The first transwoman (man who likes to be called a woman) I knew, rubbed his penis on me when he thought I was sleeping. This was shortly after I told him I didn't return his romantic feelings for me, which I had told him many times already.

That same man had previously told me that he'd spent most of his young adult life pressuring girls to have sex with him.

The second transwoman I knew, became enraged when I casually commented on sexism in commercials. I thought what I said would be met with obvious agreement. I hadn't known many transwomen yet, and I thought that they would understand sexism and feminism a little more than men on average do. I learned that I was very wrong. I'd commented on how a string of commercials we watched featured men speaking with intelligence, confidence, and authority, and they featured women speaking in forced baby voices, sounding insecure, dumb, giggly, and weak.

This man advanced on me physically to where I was sitting, with another angry transwoman, very loud and mad, and was very upset with my comment. He said women like talking like that, and also their vocal cords physically are only able to talk like that. Then he said my comment could be compared to women who really want to wear high heels to work, but people don't let them. Which is obviously ridiculous, because that is exactly the opposite of reality... women are being forced by their workplaces to wear high heels, which most women hate and which injure feet. That is still a sexist reality in many places that women are fighting to end. He was somehow saying I was like the fantasy people who don't let these fantasy women wear high heels to work, because of my comment.

This same man told me that he was really respected in China, which is where he was born, because he's a woman and in China women are dominant and considered superior to men. That is true, isn't it. Yes, very accurate. Not at all incorrect or literally opposite of reality.

The third transwoman I knew got upset with me at Halloween season, when I commented that women should be offered normal costumes just like men are, rather than only "sexy" versions of costumes in most places. There should be the same options for girls and boys, and women and men. He immediately disagreed and would only repeat that "Women like wearing sexy costumes!" I repeated that girls and boys should both be offered normal costumes, and obviously if anyone, man or woman, wanted to wear a "sexy" version of a costume they should wear whatever they want. He still disagreed. He said that "women have very little opportunity to dress femininely and sexy, and Halloween is a chance they can do it." I explained that was the opposite of reality. Women have tons of times when they are allowed, encouraged, and pushed to dress femininely and "sexy". That includes work, after work, weekends, and... all other times I would say. I'm pretty sure he was thinking of men, for whom his comment would have been accurate.

That same man got very angry when I said women were made to feel they have to wear makeup, and that is bad. He became very angry. Not just a little. Very angry. He kept saying (angrily) "Women like wearing makeup!"

That same man told me he was a pedophile, and had to keep himself away from children.

That same man told me that "sexism is good for some women".

That same man supported Gamergate. That same man told me that the separation of women's and men's sports are not at all related to people's biological sex, and that men who want to be called women should compete in women's sports.

That same man told me that sexism doesn't exist at all in America, and people are treated exactly the same their whole lives whether they're female or male. (I know, it contradicts his other statement that "sexism is good for some women"). I said that I had a lifetime of many many instances where I experienced sexism. From when I was very little until the present. He mockingly told me to name just one. I was so horrified that he honestly thought I would be unable to think of a single experience of sexism, and that he was mocking me about it, that I told him that it would demean me to answer to his demand of one example. It would obviously be lowering myself too far.

That same man told me that sexism in countries outside America don't have any effect on me.

The fourth transwoman I knew, I saw a movie with. It was good, but I noticed some very obvious sexism in the portrayal of female characters and male characters, which I later learned most everybody noticed. And while most everybody including me agreed it was a great movie, the extreme sexism was obvious. After the movie I said so, how I loved it - but it was very sexist in these examples. And this man started insulting me and being very annoyed. He said venomously that the portrayals of female and male characters was "realistic", and then just as venomously asked me "What are you, a FEMinist?" Clearly he felt the only acceptable view of feminists is to hate them. Somehow he expected me to want to insist to him that I wasn't a feminist. Obviously I loudly said "Yeah. I am a feminist. Aren't you a feminist?"

I never saw him again. We had been casual friends for a few months, but apparently that interaction made us both lose the desire to try and meet up again.

That same man, weeks previously at a fast food joint, told me ever since he started taking estrogen that he's become extremely physically weak. He was grinning while describing to me how wonderfully weak he was, and clearly that was an idea that made him very happy. A personal fantasy. He said how now his arms are so weak, he can barely throw a frisbee! I asked him to arm wrestle and he beat me with no effort in one second. I'd assumed that would happen.

The fifth transwoman I knew, was a very nice person. He was kind, and fun, and not a misogynist, and didn't get angry if anyone criticized anything sexist. He also didn't mind going into men's public bathrooms. I really liked him. We were friends.

The sixth transwoman I knew was over six feet tall, and had a fantasy that men would rape him. He would only ever dress in cartoonishly sexual stripper-style outfits. He described multiple times to me how he was worried that men would rape him when he walked around in public. In a voice and level of description that made it obvious this was his personal sexual fantasy. He suggested that he and I are both equally in danger from sexual assault. I'm 5'1 and just trying to live my life. He was over 6 feet and that was his sexual fantasy. We were very different in our experiences of the threat of sexual assault.

The seventh transwoman I knew, I went to the movies with and he put his hand in my crotch area. I said "WHOA I am not comfortable with that." And I physically took his arm and returned it to his own seat. He immediately put his arm around my neck and shoulders and said in an annoyed whiny voice "Well can I at least do this?" And I had to say no again. We barely knew each other, and were not at all romantic. I had zero romantic thought of him. He clearly didn't care or consider if I did or not. It didn't affect his feelings that he should be allowed to do things like that for his pleasure.

The eighth transwoman I knew was over six feet tall and white. He came up to me suddenly and told me that he is twice as oppressed as me, because he has sexism, as a woman, like I do, and he also has "transmisogyny". I was so shocked that he would say he experiences sexism like women that I was speechless. Obviously he was a man and so he did not. He was also gigantic. I don't really know why he wanted to come up to me and tell me that he had "twice as much oppression as me". After he said it he just kind of looked at me waiting to see what I would say. That was the first instance I learned about the "oppression olympics". I had never used the word "oppression" before and very rarely heard it used in person. But I was disgusted by his competitive declaration of victimhood. Since then, of course the word "oppression" has become extremely popularly used in conversation, and that's usually a good thing, but there is definitely this unsavory world of people like him who build their identities around having the "most" oppression, like an impressive commodity, who have no basis in reality.

That same man, after my lack of response, then told me that he also doesn't have white privilege because he grew up poor.

That same man told me that he'd spent much of his life pressuring women to have sex with him.

The ninth transwoman I knew, told me he would only ever date women who shave their bodies. I know that men have no idea the level of pain and insecurity that teenage girls go through because of the forced shaving culture, so I gave him a break and replied with a kind of friendly comment that even though shaving their bodies for women is an extremely torturous social norm, everyone has preferences about their romantic partners and that's fine. Though I felt like that particular preference is specifically a preference for women suffering an unhealthy lifelong ritual born completely out of insecurity. I figured I'd just write this guy off, and there was no point in saying so. But I couldn't help poking the misogynist bear a little. He was trying to get me to hang out with him. So I asked if he just won't have a relationship with a woman who doesn't shave her body, or if he can't even stand to see them at all in any setting. Because it was summer and I love going to the beach in shorts, and I needed to know if I shouldn't invite him to to beach. I actually thought I was being funny and that he would know that, but he answered seriously that he "would feel grossed out if he looked at me." Imagine one person feeling comfortable telling someone that they would feel grossed out to look at you. That man sure felt comfortable saying it to me.

I have also known some transmen. They are usually very kind, thoughtful people. I have known some very closely for years before they decided to be transmen. Most of them, years after that decision, still fight internally against the feeling that they have to wear makeup every day or else be ugly and worthless. Most of them still mentally fight to nurture any sense of self-confidence to speak their opinions, or take up space in a group as a full person, who deserves as much free immediate respect as any other.

Those are things that women experience.

Almost all transwomen are now saying that they are not men breaking social expectations. They are women. And women are sexist stereotypes.

Men breaking social expectations would deserve respect and props for being themselves despite social pressure. That would be a cool move. But they are instead insulting women, supporting sexist stereotypes religiously, closing down women's shelters, women's rape trauma centers, and women's festivals. They are taking women's government positions, women's scholarships, and women's awards.

**CONTENT WARNING for below **

Transwomen have made it so now any and all men are allowed to go into women's bathrooms, women's changing rooms, and women's shelters. And MANY of them have been raping and murdering children and women. They've been kidnapping, videotaping, and sexually harassing women and children.

There are many myths that transgender activists send around social networking sites. There's one that is very popularly shared that says transwomen in America are in danger of being murdered. That is a lie. White transwomen in America are less likely to be murdered than white men who don't identify as a transwomen.

Even if they were in danger, that would be a separate issue from women completely, and they would deserve their own safe places to be and escape violence. They should not take away all resources to help women, and allow all men into women's changing rooms and bathrooms and prisons.

I'm pretty sure most people know that women are not allowed to talk about this. We are not allowed to speak our discomfort. If a woman says she is uncomfortable with any of that, transwomen (men) bombard her with rape threats, very descriptive rape threats involving their own penises. They also do this to any lesbian who says lesbians don't want to have sex with penises. Any woman who is a feminist. Any woman who wouldn't even call herself a feminist because that word takes a lot of courage to use, but who still speaks of helping women and ending sexist beliefs, or describes reality without pandering to make these men feel good.

I used to think the transgender social movement would bring us all leaps and bounds into a brighter future, but I really think it has dragged us all back far in time and rolled back women's rights and safety and respect many decades into the past. I used to think all those violent women-hating transwomen were just the rare bad apple, and most are good people who don't want to hurt women. But that list of transwomen that I described is every single one I've known in person. 8 out of 9 were extreme examples of the most misogynist of men. My experiences have made me wary now, and I can barely even picture in my imagination a transwoman saying the words "It's impossible to feel like a woman", or "Women deserve to be allowed to get together and talk about women's issues".

The misogynist slur TERF means: Dyke. Feminazi. Cunt. They all know this.

It pains me to see women being caught up in this social movement, clearly just trying to be polite and "politically correct", or seeking male approval. Most of them are insecure. I understand. But I wish they would speak up and be honest about the truth, and not just do whatever these men tell them they must do and say to avoid being called a TERF.

#terfs please interact #terf #terfs #terfs do touch #radical feminism #radfem #feminism #feminist

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brandyovereager · 4 years

Text

The Phoenix Effect - pt. 7

This is the longest chapter I have ever posted! The conversations in this chapter were so much fun to write, I hope you have fun reading them ;). Let me know what you think, I love to hear from you guys!!!

On ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22195906/chapters/60178285

Summary: Rowan is in Rifthold with Dorian when a strange phenomenon sweeps the land. Those once dead are popping up alive. Everyday, more and more are Reborn. One day Rowan encounters a Reborn young man who refuses to give his name, only asking to know the whereabouts of Celaena Sardothien.

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius lounged on her throne. Her posture was casual in a way that made her appear superior, but the grin on her face betrayed the childlike joy within her.

Aelin had heard about the reborn phenomenon in Adarlan from Rowan’s reports, and knew all the miraculous details of what was happening. It shouldn’t have been as much of a shock as it was for her to hear that reborns were showing up in Terrasen.

The first ones arrived in towns near the border between Terrasen and Adarlan. Within a week there were reborns appearing in Orynth. Luckily, Aelin was a swift and wise leader. She was able to quickly institute a procedure for helping reborns similar to the one in Adarlan.

The whole situation was managing smoothly, her mate would be returning home soon, and just three days ago Aelin found yet another reason to be happy.

It seemed there was no real logic to where the reborns popped up. It didn’t coincide with where they died—or even where they had lived most of their lives—because when Aelin last visited the reborn specialists’ center, she was reunited with a dear friend she thought was lost forever.

Somehow the magical force behind this phenomenon had brought Nehemia Ytger to Orynth, alive and well.

Their reunion was joyous and tearful. Aelin had so much to explain to Nehemia, things she never had the chance to say, but all she could get out were incoherent sobs of delight. Several minutes of heartfelt embrace later, the pair was sat close together and calm enough to delve into their much needed conversation.

The story spilled out of Aelin faster than she could think—along with a stream of pent-up apologies and guilt for what happened to her friend. Aelin had blamed herself for so much after Nehemia died, and all that shame came resurfaced as she sat across from the other young woman.

Nehemia adamantly denied any guilt on Aelin’s part, but made sure Aelin knew that she would be forgiven anyway. After sufficient reassurance and long overdue healing, the two friends jumped right in to all the wonderful updates on Aelin’s life.

The young queen excitedly took her old friend on a tour around her castle and introduced her to her court—most of it, at least. Nehemia and Lysandra hit it off wonderfully, and the three spent many hours together with broad smiles on their faces. It filled Aelin’s heart to see two people she loved get along so well. She couldn’t wait for Nehemia to meet Rowan.

Now, three days after their reunion, Nehemia sat beside her in the throne room while she held her court. The two friends exchanged many secret smiles as various courtiers made their—often ridiculous—remarks.

From outside the throne room, Aelin could hear a commotion begin amongst her guards. The Fae queen sat up straighter in her seat and focused her gaze on the large doors ahead of her. As expected, they soon opened and a servant entered.

“Your Majesty, two new reborns have arrived and wish to speak to you.” That was quite odd. Why would her guard have gotten in a fuss over a couple of reborns?

“Reborns should be sent to the specialists’ center to find help. Why should these two be brought to see me?”

“You know these ones, My Queen, they are your family.” A jumble of feelings rushed through Aelin with the servant’s statement, and the look on his face betrayed his knowledge of her reaction.

“My family? Send them in.” Aelin was tingling and buzzing down to her fingertips. The possibility of her own family being amongst those reborn had always been there, but she hadn’t let herself believe it would happen.

The doors to her throne room opened to reveal a male and female, each with golden hair. The male Aelin recognized immediately, and she leapt from her seat to meet him in an embrace.

“Gavriel.” The golden-haired male held her firmly to him with just as much enthusiasm as Aelin felt herself. She had missed him, and Aedion had too.

Stepping back from the beloved Fae, Aelin turned to look at the female beside him. Her heart jumped for a second before she realized that—despite the many similar features—the woman was not her mother. This was Aedion’s mother. There was no denying it, her face so blatantly Ashryver. It was easy to see why Gavriel had once suspected Aelin to be her child.

“I don’t think we ever met, but I am Aelin Galathynius—Rhoe and Evalin’s daughter—and you are Aedion’s mother.” There was no question in her voice.

“Yes, I am Andelin Ashryver. It is wonderful to finally meet you, Aelin. I loved your mother very much, and I owe her everything. You are her spitting image.” Aelin’s heart both warmed and grew heavy.

“I have been told that a lot,” Aelin smiled lightly, “as I’m sure you have too.” Andelin threw a wry smile back at her.

“The Ashryver genes are strong.” Aelin had to agree.

“Aedion got them as well. He looks very much like you.” Andelin’s face softened at Aelin’s mention of her son. Aelin continued, “You would be proud of him—for many reasons.”

“I am incredibly proud of who he has become, but I’m afraid I can’t take much credit for that.” Aelin recognized clearly the guilt and sadness Andelin felt over her son’s upbringing. “Do you know where he is? I need to speak with him.” Aelin grimaced slightly in response.

“It’s rotten timing but Aedion is actually in Adarlan right now fetching my mate for me.” Aelin reached out to grab the other woman’s arm in reassurance. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, though. I will have a suite prepared for the both of you immediately, right near Aedion’s.” These two were family, she would not have them be anywhere else.

A servant was promptly summoned and sent to ready their suite. Another servant was directed to find Lysandra, who arrived minutes later. Similar to Aelin’s reaction, Lysandra first recognized Gavriel and rushed to meet him in an embrace.

Aelin watched her friend closely as she finally took in the woman next to Gavriel. She could see the shifter piece things together and widen her eyes slightly in realization. Lysandra’s gaze flickered over to Aelin and the queen nodded in affirmation.

“I should introduce you to my dear friend, Lady Lysandra Ashryver. She is Aedion’s wife. Lysandra—you have met Gavriel—and this is Andelin Ashryver, Aedion’s mother.”

————

The journey back to Terrasen was too gods-damned long.

It wasn’t even that Rowan was sick of walking for hours on end, day after day—though that was certainly part of it. Rowan needed to get back to his mate. He had so much he needed to tell her. So much had happened that she would need time to process, and he would have to be by her side anchoring her as she did.

Even more, though—selfish as it may be—he just missed her. He had been separated from his love for too long. He ached with the knowledge that the other half of his immortal soul was not beside him. It was a challenge every night to lay down in a cold bed by himself and fall asleep without holding her. It was wrong. Mates were not meant to be apart.

For the past week he had been walking the long road back to his love, and it was awful. There were far too many miles between them. He wanted to forget about his traveling companions and just fly back to her as fast as his wings allowed. Surely they didn’t need him walking beside them—after all, Aedion had travelled all the way to Adarlan without Rowan. Terrasen’s royal caravan was more than enough enough manpower if they found themselves in trouble.

He couldn’t leave Aedion alone with Sam, though. The young Ashryver had not taken to the reborn assassin very well. Aedion had no great love for anyone from Aelin’s time as Celaena, often choosing to avoid that part of his cousin’s past. During the seven days they’d been on the road together, the male had only spoken to Sam a handful of times—each in a gruff and unfriendly manner.

Rowan supposed that might be for the best. He didn’t put it past Aedion to spill the truth about Aelin in some attempt to torment the boy. Needless to say, the unlikely trio travelled in a state of unending tension.

Rowan managed to keep himself as a buffer between the other two most of the time, but it was exhausting him. The Fae wasn’t exactly overjoyed at the presence of Sam either. The two had spent a fair amount of time together back when Rowan was helping Sam in his search, but ever since the young man’s identity was revealed it was awkward for Rowan to be near him. They had never spoken much—and that was certainly fine with Rowan—but the silent walking left Rowan alone with his thoughts, and he was a little uncomfortable with the thoughts he had when he knew Sam Cortland was beside him.

He was especially uncomfortable when he considered the thoughts Sam might be having himself as they travelled.

Sam knew nothing about what Aelin’s life was now. He had no idea she was the Queen of Terrasen, that she was an immortal Fae, that she was mated and married. The Aelin he had last known was Celaena, and Sam was in love with her.

Yes, those thoughts didn’t sit well with Rowan.

The three travelers and their caravan were currently surrounded by dense forest. Rowan didn’t mind too much—it shielded them from the hot sun—but it did mean they were farther from lodging and refreshment. They hadn’t encountered many others on their journey so far, and they hadn’t seen any intelligent life this entire day.

A bush about three feet to Rowan’s right rustled and the Fae turned to watch as a deer bolted away, startled at the sight of them. His hand relaxed from where he’d reached for his sword, taking notice of Aedion beside him doing the same. They might both be protected members of Terrasen’s court, but the warrior’s instinct to defend never went away. Rowan was sure the guards in their caravan had instructions to ensure Rowan’s—and Aedion’s—safety first, but if an attack did happen, the male doubted he’d be able to run for cover while others endangered themselves to protect him.

He and Aelin had similar opinions on that matter. They were powerful, immortal warriors. As the leaders of Terrasen, it was their responsibility to serve and protect their people, not the other way around.

For the first time that day, Rowan spotted what looked to be human figures ahead of them on the path. There were two of them, with hoods over their heads, unmoving on the side of the road. Beneath the cloak of one figure was a pair of high boots, and beneath that of the other Rowan could see full skirts, indicating the pair was likely a male and female.

As their caravan neared the two travelers, Rowan started to detect more details about their appearance. Their cloaks were high-quality and made from an expensive-looking hunter green cloth, not typical attire for two lone wanderers. Anyone of money or status traveled with a caravan, like he and Aedion were.

The pair turned slightly more towards the large group approaching them and the woman called out at the sight of Terrasen’s flag on their uniforms.

“Terrasen! The royal caravan!” The woman nudged the man beside her to draw his attention to them. “Are members of the royal family with you?”

The caravan’s head—Captain Algaard—stopped their advance and addressed the woman.

“We are of Terrasen, yes, and this caravan is transporting important members of the court.” The guard kept his answer vague so as not to reveal too much to a stranger. “What do you want of them?”

“We must speak to Aelin Galathynius. We need to warn her.” That was concerning.

“What must you warn Her Majesty about, traveler?”

“It may be difficult to believe, but my husband and I should not be alive. Someone has tampered with death, Captain, and we need to tell her.” Aedion approached the captain and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“We are alright, Algaard. Two reborns don’t pose much threat to His Majesty or myself. They are just confused.” Aedion then turned to the traveler woman. “Do you need help, kind woman? Are you in need of provisions?” The couple seemed to notice Aedion for the first time. The woman’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Aedion?” The Ashryver male paused in surprise—an emotion Rowan shared—before walking closer to the couple. Rowan could see the moment Aedion realized who the woman was because something in his face crumbled.

“Evalin?” Evalin. Even if Evalin were a common name—which Rowan didn’t believe it was—a closer look at the woman was all he needed to confirm that she was, in fact, Evalin Ashryver Galathynius. This woman, reborn to a body not much older than Aelin’s, was the near twin of his mate. It stirred something deep within the Fae to look at her.

Aelin’s mother was one of the dead brought back by this strange phenomenon. From the woman’s statement earlier of her husband, the man beside Evalin was likely Aelin’s father. These were his mate’s parents, ones she had grieved for years and missed every day.

Rowan snapped out of his thoughts to find Aedion in a firm embrace with Evalin and Rhoe. They didn’t appear to be speaking, but he had a feeling emotions were being communicated in other ways. These two were important to Aedion as well as Aelin. They had been his guardians during his early years.

Rowan felt a little intrusive watching such an intimate moment, so he turned to address the rest of their caravan. They would be adding a few more to their party, it would seem. Evalin had said she needed to speak to Aelin, and Rowan very much agreed.

“These are Her Majesty’s parents, Rhoe and Evalin Galathynius. We will be bringing them with us. They are members of Terrasen’s royal family and should be included in your protection the same as Prince Aedion and I.” The news was understandably shocking to the guards, but they remained serious and registered Rowan’s statement as the order it was. He continued, “Someone prepare them refreshment.” That was enough to set the group moving about.

When the king turned back to the reunited trio, he found them more composed than before. Aedion met his eyes and Rowan took that as his cue to approach.

“I am honored to meet you, Your Highnesses. I am Rowan Whitethorn—“ Rhoe cut him off before he could continue.

“The Fae warrior. I have heard many stories about you, Rowan Whitethorn. I have to say I have always admired your skill—the stuff of my childhood legends—but we have no want for Maeve’s presence in Terrasen. Thank you for helping Aedion, however you may have, but we should make the rest of our journey alone.” Rowan couldn’t help but smile slightly at Rhoe’s words.

“I can assure you, Rhoe Galathynius, that I no longer have any ties to Maeve. My allegiance lies solely with Terrasen and its queen, both of which I would protect with my life. You can rest knowing my particular skills will only be used for you, not against.” Rowan spoke firmly to hopefully convey how serious he was, and he would have continued had Rhoe not butted in yet again.

“You are blood sworn to Maeve, don’t think I am unaware, you have no choice where your allegiances lie.”

“That oath was broken by Maeve herself. I am now bound to Aelin completely, by ties even stronger than blood.” Rowan had to admit, witnessing Rhoe Galathynius’ face as he explained the situation was quite amusing. “As I was about to say before, I am Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius, mate and husband of Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen. I will, in fact, be traveling to Terrasen with you. The whole purpose of this caravan is to bring me back to my mate, but we are more than happy to have you join us.”

The wry look Aedion gave Rowan indicated that he had not hid his satisfaction well. How could he blame him, though? It wasn’t every day you got to tell your mate’s resurrected parents that you were soul bound to their daughter.

@rowaelinforeverworld

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@aelin-queen-of-terrasen

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@lord-douglas-the-third

@montse121296

@dank-queen7

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@trilogiesrule