#this wouldn’t even be that big of a deal if i didn’t have any godforsaken reptiles

[threnodians]

fingers crossed that the wind calms tf down so we don’t have to deal with another outage, especially considering the temperature is going to be down in the low teens with the wind chill at like -10℉ 🥲👍🏻

[vinbee631]

You Matter to Me

teehee I did a thing!!

day 7 of logince week finally!! I was inspired by a lil chat in the tss big bang discord server to finally write the last part of this, and ngl I'm very glad i did!

anyway, enjoy! (the prompt for this was 'importance' btw)

“I Love You!”

Roman stared at the big bubble letters in front of him and cringed.

Logan was coming home from school for winter break tomorrow, and after not seeing his boyfriend for- well, a long time, Roman wanted to do something special to show his appreciation.

They had both been extremely busy, Roman with his new acting job and Logan with graduate school, that they barely had the time to call each other once a week.

But now that they had the perfect opportunity for a wonderful date, or simply time spent as close to each other as possible, Roman stared at the project in front of him and cringed.

To be fair, his options were quite limited. Earlier that week, when he and Logan had been discussing plans over the phone, his boyfriend had expressed more interest in doing something together, at home. There was nothing wrong with their normal dates, out in public, going on hikes, visiting museums, what have you. But, the semester had taken a lot out of him, and it would be too overwhelming to have an outing like that the day after he finished exams.

So, to avoid any shutdowns, and to make the day as fun as it possibly could for both of them, Roman needed to come up with a different idea, something more private than the original plans he’d scoped out in his head weeks before asking his boyfriend about them.

No big deal, right?

He groaned dramatically, falling back to the floor so he wouldn’t have to look at the godforsaken banner anymore. He was already getting sick of his trash brain trying to convince him his idea wasn’t good enough, and he had only been working for about an hour or so.

It was intensely frustrating, to say the very least.

But off course, it was the perfect time for someone to knock on his door.

“It’s unlocked,” he called out, still lying supine as Gram made her way into his room and glanced over his abandoned project, laid out haphazardly across his bed.

“Looking good,” she noted with a sympathetic smile, “don’t you agree?”

Roman grunted, leaning up on his elbows. “Sure, absolutely, that’s why I’m throwing a perfectly mature and becoming tantrum on the floor.”

“It doesn’t quite look like a tantrum, I’ve seen your tantrums. No, this is… more like giving up, which is very unlike you,” she continued as she moved slowly to sit cross-legged near Roman’s feet.

“...I suppose you have a point. Either way, I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. I don’t have a plan anymore, the thing I started was garbage, so what’s even the point anyway?

“Well, first of all,” Gram started, “You love him. And in case it has escaped your notice, he loves you back. Regardless of what you decide to do with your time, he’s going to have fun, and he’s not going to stop loving you if it isn’t absolutely perfect.”

Roman rolled his eyes. Just because she was right didn’t mean she had to rub it in, or anything.

“Second, Logan has never actively disliked any dates you have put together. Remember back in July when you took him out for a picnic and it poured as soon as you sat down? The only complaints I heard that afternoon were from you. Logan was much more interested in the fact you had a white shirt on.”

Roman choked, blustering around the burning in his cheeks. “I- c’mon, Gram!”

“Third,” she continued despite the halfhearted protest, “you are about to see your partner in person for the first time in- what is it, four months? So, no matter what you do, it’s going to be special for both of you. No matter what I say, you’re going to stress about this whole thing, but I’m telling you, you don’t have to. That boy is just as cheesy as you are.”

“I swear, you can read minds,” Roman grumbled, but as she spoke he had crawled over to lay his head in her lap, so the effect was pretty much completely lost.

Gram chucked, ruffling his hair. “Pretty much, yes. Now, are you going to get off the floor and get back to work? You’ve only got about… maybe eighteen hours before Logan is supposed to arrive? Better make the most of them!”

Roman pouted as the teasing continued, but after a little bit more time spent laying in her lap, relaxing as she wove her fingers through his kinky hair, he sat up, finding the motivation to keep working, for Logan.

“Alright, alright, before you get completely focused, help an old woman up? It has been a long time since my sitting on the floor days.”

Roman chuckled but knelt down obligingly, supporting her back and holding her opposite hand as they stood. “Nah, you’re not old. Ancient though, that’s a much better descriptor.”

Gram whacked him on the arm, but she was smiling just as cheekily as he was. “I swear, the only thing I ever managed to get you to remember was my snarkiness. Never the important lessons, always the teasing.”

Roman chuckled fondly as she grumbled jokingly to herself, shutting the door quietly behind her. He took a beat to appreciate just how much he loved his family, and he was back to work, pacing and muttering to himself about the logistics of streamer placement.

…

The next morning, Roman woke two hours before his alarm was set to go off. That wasn’t particularly odd, as that sometimes happened when he was overly excited, but today, that wasn’t the case.

Someone was calling him. He groped blindly at his bedside table and fumbled his cell phone up to his ear.

“I swear to god, it’s too early to read. This better not be one of my brothers,” he yawned, rubbing at his eyes as he complained.

“Uh… n-not quite,” the person on the other end stammered, and Roman was surprised to find he didn’t immediately recognize their voice.

“I- sorry, do I know who this is? I could just be too tired to process any words, that is a very strong possibility.”

The person on the other end chuckled slightly. “I think we’ve met? I’m- this is Virgil, Logan’s roommate. I dunno, I just clicked the first contact that popped up, I promise I’m not snooping through his phone or anything stalker-y like that. I just didn’t know what-”

“Hey,” Roman interrupted softly, finally moving to sit, “it’s fine. Logan trusts you, so I have no reason not to. Er, anyway, what’s up? Is he in shutdown or something?”

“Kind of?” Virgil hesitated. “I… I mean, I know what it’s like when he shuts down. I’ve kinda… helped him with it before, but this isn’t… I don’t know what’s wrong.

“The… midterm exams and stuff, kinda took a lot out of- everyone? So, he came back last night and was totally out of it, and he immediately went to bed, which like- that’s college for ya, and I expected it, and like, same. But then… I tried checking in with him this morning and he’s… it doesn’t look like he’s moved all night but he’s not asleep and just kinda- staring at the wall, and I can’t… he won’t snap out of it? I guess? It’s… not good, whatever he had going on.”

Roman had stood up and begun to pace as Virgil spoke, but by the time he finished explaining, he stood motionless in the middle of the room. He let out a small sigh.

“Okay. That’s… yeah, that’s pretty bad. Uh… okay. I guess I should clarify, I’m his boyfriend, and I live less than an hour away. I can… it shouldn’t be a problem to pick him up but… I don’t wanna leave him like- that for so long. I guess… I can try talking to him over the phone? It’s something, I guess.”

“Uh, yeah… okay. You’re on speaker now,” Virgil announced, shuffling around on the other end. Roman didn’t start talking until the movement stopped.

“Hey, Logan? Can you hear me, sweetheart? I heard you’re having a hard time right now, and I wanna help. Can you tell me what’s wrong, or tap it out? Virgil’s here for you too, baby, we just wanna help you feel safe.”

There was silence on the other end for a minute or two before someone huffed, and Roman heard more shuffling.

“I… I don’t even think he blinked.”

Roman let out a heaving sigh. “Okay, okay, that’s… shit, okay. We’ll… I’ll head out in just a minute. I gotta, get some stuff together- is his stuff packed? Can you tell?”

Virgil huffed what could vaguely be considered a laugh, and Roman frowned. “I- sorry, yes. He’s packed. He said… he told me, something in his- that formal way he talks, but- he had to be ready, he couldn’t let his- exhaustion and shit get in the way of ‘going home.’ So he packed, like, way early. Before midterms even started, I think.”

Roman allowed himself a brief, sappy smile before rushing downstairs to put his shoes on. “Tha’s- yeah, that’s good. Okay… I’m gonna leave in just a few minutes. When do you have to head home? Can you… will you be there, until I get there?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely. A: I’m not leaving him alone like this, and B: I drive myself home. I can leave whenever, but we have to be out of here by… noon, or something. I dunno, I still need to pack the stuff I need to take back with me, and that’ll take me way more than an hour. Just- you can text Logan’s phone when you get here, and I’ll let you in.”

“I- good, thanks. And… I appreciate you, looking out for him. Someone has to do it when I’m not there. I’m glad… y’know, that he’s got you. You seem… nice.”

“Glowing praise,” Virgil snarked, seeming to regret it instantly as the line went dead silent right after. “Er, I mean, yeah, that’s kinda the bare minimum. And it’s… the- looking out for, each other, it’s mutual, definitely. But… thanks.”

“Of course,” Roman replied easily. “See you in an hour.”

“See ya.” The line clicked silent, and Roman just barely crumpled. Before he was able to rush out the door, he needed to make another call.

“Hey, Remus? I have a favor to cash in. Like… right now?”

…

The twins rode together in dead silence. Remus had been more than willing to jump straight out of bed and drive with his brother out to Logan’s apartment. With him there, they wouldn’t have to abandon Logan’s car, seeing as the aforementioned sleep-deprived student should not be doing so himself.

Roman still didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he figured if Logan had been that out of it this morning, he probably didn’t sleep. And whatever it was that was keeping him up, it was something serious.

He was, perhaps, being a bit irresponsible with his driving, but he saved them about ten minutes with his speeding. And he didn’t get caught in the act, so there wasn’t any point in being a narc, now was there?

But of course, he parked in the wrong lot and wasted ten minutes getting back to the right one because despite going there for four years, the campus was still as complicated and frustrating to navigate as it had been when he first started.

When he’d first met Logan…

He snapped himself out of that tangent, leading his brother along to where Virgil was waiting for them, fidgeting with his hoodie sleeve in one hand and waving them over with the other.

“Uh, hey. Didn’t realize there were two of you,” he joked awkwardly. “...Anyway, uh- follow me, I guess.”

Virgil led them up a set of stairs and down the hall to their room. Roman had visited once before, but he couldn’t have picked out the floor Logan was living on, much less the room, and especially in a time crunch- yeah, he was really glad Virgil was around.

Sure enough, when he unlocked the door and brought the twins inside, there was Logan, lying curled up in a tight ball on his side and staring at nothing.

It was… concerning, to say the least.

Remus talked with Virgil for a bit, the latter filling him in on what he and Roman had discussed over the phone, and the two agreed to give them some space by starting the process of loading up Virgil’s and Logan’s car with their suitcases.

That left Roman, sitting slowly on the floor by Logan’s bed and resting his chin on the mattress. Logan continued to stare past him.

“Hey, honey,” he called gently, reaching up to weave a hand through Logan’s hair. “Where’d you go? Hm? Hiding from me, on our anniversary? Kinda rude, but I suppose I’ll live. How ‘bout you come back? We can talk all you want about it, or none at all if that makes you feel better.”

Logan didn’t quite stir, but it looked less like his eyes were glazed over and more like he was staring at Roman’s forehead. That was something, at least.

“Um, let’s see. I’m sure we have some of your cubes around if you need to focus on something else for a bit. Whatever’s got you trapped in there-” Roman ever-so-gently rapped a knuckle on Logan’s temple, making his eyes blink closed- “doesn’t look like much fun. Or, I could squish ya.”

Logan’s eyes flashed open at that, and he flicked his gaze down to Roman’s left shoulder.

‘Yes.’

“Okay, yes to the squish, it is!” He cheered softly, shifting off the floor with a small grunt and maneuvering himself to lay right next to Logan.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he joked under his breath. “Okay, baby. Gonna need to- shift us around a little bit. Do you think you can unwind for me? I can’t properly squish a Logan ball.”

Logan frowned, but with a little bit of help from his boyfriend, he was able to relax enough to lay flat on his back, pressed comfortably into the mattress under him by Roman’s full body weight.

“That better?” Roman was relieved to see him nod slowly, closing his eyes and leaning back into his pillow.

He wasn’t sure how long they lay like that. Every so often, Remus and Virgil would pop back in for the rest of their bags or to check on them, but after a while, they took a break to get lunch together.

“So,” Roman started, wincing as his voice cracked slightly, the sudden break in silence apparently startling his vocal cords, “do you want to talk about it? Or, sign about it, I suppose. Are you verbal right now?”

Logan huffed, shifting to free his hands. 'Semi-verbal, but yes. I should, quote-unquote ‘sign’ about it, if I can find the right words.'

Roman nodded, allowing him to take whatever time he needed to figure out his thoughts. He hummed under his breath, watching as Logan relaxed slightly, tapping along the side of his arm to the beat.

“Yesterday, I was on my way… here after my final midterm, and I ran into- someone. Another graduate student I have met in passing, but… mm.”

‘He made an unfortunately timed joke,’ he signed, ‘about my supposed interest in winter courses, something I have, admittedly done in the past, but..’ His movements paused, and he huffed again.

‘The way he phrased it, I just… it made me think of Dad.’

Roman blinked in surprise. Logan never talked about his dad, not even to Gram. Roman had asked, way back when they first met, what his family was like, and Logan had talked about his mother and grandad. Even after years of being friends, and then boyfriends, any questions about his biological dad were dismissed, fast enough that Roman didn’t even question the dismissal.

So, this was probably pretty bad.

“I… do not remember much, from when he was still alive,” Logan continued. “But, most of the… active cruelty, was on his part.”

“My…” he hummed, shifting his hands from where they previously gripped Roman’s shirt. ‘My mother and her father continued the behavior, the encouragement of toxic work ethic and rejection of the accommodations I needed to not shut down. But he started it. I just didn’t realize how harmful it was at the time. Not until years after he died.’

“Oh, darling,” Roman cooed, leaning closer to Logan to press a feather-light kiss to his forehead. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you know by now how awful and unnecessary that behavior is, but being reminded of it right before your first chance to take a break? I can’t imagine… I’m so sorry, beloved.”

Logan didn’t have much else to say, after that. He squished his forehead into Roman’s shoulder and they cuddled for a while longer. He didn’t cry, surprisingly enough. Roman wasn’t quite sure why he expected him to, but his partner didn’t seem any less appreciative of the affection regardless of the lack of emotional release.

Instead, a few minutes later, he sighed happily into Roman’s ear, finding enough of his voice to whisper. “I love you.”

Roman thought back to the banner, how his stress from yesterday about the perfect date seemed so inconsequential when he had Logan in his arms. He thought about how all he wanted to do now was hold his partner for the rest of the day and support him through all the troubles he never should have dealt with in the first place.

“I love you, too.”

[mercy-burning]

Page Turner

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Y/N becomes a little impatient while Spencer is reading... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Thigh riding, thigh fucking, cum play Word Count : 2.5k

MASTERLSIT

NOTE: this is just FILTH FILTH FILLLTHHHHH, and it was supposed to be a blurb but i got kinda carried away so it’s a little longer than that... so enjoy your porn with no plot 😊😂 And shoutout to @broken-stardust for beta-ing this for me!! we originally talked about the idea for this fic months ago, so i’m glad you finally got to see it ❤

———

She was in the mood for a little trouble.

Well, it was more like she was in the mood for a good fuck, but at the moment, with Spencer's strong desire to finish this incredibly long book series he'd just discovered, the mood for trouble came as more of a... fun little footnote that would most certainly add to the experience she was looking for.

So she strode up to Spencer, who was sitting comfortably on the couch with his book open and his glasses perched cutely on the tip of his nose, and straddled herself on his right leg wearing nothing but a pair of thin cotton underwear and a t-shirt.

"Hey," she said, low and seductive as she planted a wet kiss into his neck. Her hands clutched his shirt, willing herself to be closer and with every intention of him putting the book down and paying her some attention.

Either he truly wasn’t in the mood, or he was teasing her.

"Hey," is all he responded with, clipped and distant. His eyes scanned the pages, albeit slower than usual due to the woman clinging herself to him and begging for attention.

"You've been reading all weekend," Y/N half-whined, pressing herself into him and attaching her lips to his neck again. "Can't you at least take a little break?"

"It won't take me long to finish this book, and then we can, okay?"

She knew it was fair. It was more than fair, actually, but that didn't help the fact that she was still incredibly horny, and if she took care of it herself, it wouldn't have been enough. Maybe that was selfish, but she didn't care.

So she whined for real this time, more like a disappointed child, as she gripped his shirt and pulled herself closer to him. "Spencer..."

She expected him to warn her, to tell her to wait or something—anything—but instead he opted for the exact opposite.

He did nothing.

Y/N promptly decided that wasn't the correct response and rolled her hips, grinding down on his leg for friction. Her tongue drew a messy line up the side of his neck as she circled her hips and sought out the stimulation she so desperately wanted. And at the way his body tensed under her, obviously wanting the same things but holding out in favor of restraint, she knew her plan was close to working.

So she let out a long, content sigh and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging it gently and continued to ride his thigh, moving quicker and harder with each second as she felt her body start to unravel. Her lips attached to his neck and mumbled all sorts of little noises that should have gotten him to fucking do something...

And still, even as she felt herself cling to him and her body recover from a short (and quite frankly unsatisfying) orgasm, Spencer remained in his position, still flipping pages in that godforsaken book.

"Spencer," Y/N grunted. She was exasperated, and strongly hoping that she wasn't giving him any satisfaction in her need for attention.

However, instead he seemed a little defensive. "Wh—You're distracting me! I can't finish the book as quickly if you're distracting me..."

"Fine," she sighed, peeling herself away from him and trying one last thing to get him to submit.

Y/N slid the underwear off her legs and tossed it gently at his face, watching it fall into his lap in front of the book.

Still nothing. His eyes roamed the pages, and he was clearly highly invested in whatever story was written on them. And god damn it if he still wasn't the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

So she slunk back to the bedroom and plopped herself down on the bed with only a t-shirt, laying down and crossing one leg over the other. And when she tossed her head to the side with a sigh, she noticed the other books in Spencer's current interest scattered along his side of the bed.

Well, I'm not particularly in the mood anymore, and there's really nothing else to do...

"Why the fuck not," Y/N sighed, reaching out and fishing for the book that had the number 1 printed on the spine.

***

With the final paragraphs of the story swimming through his brain, the book settled closed and neatly on the cushion beside him, Spencer looked down at his lap and noticed the bundle of cotton sitting there, next to a small damp spot on his pants where his girlfriend had been just under a half hour earlier.

He felt bad, ignoring her like that. It was hard resisting her when she was literally there, in his lap and getting herself off on his leg. And while he could practically hear Morgan in the back of his mind, telling him with disappointment in his voice, "It doesn't matter how important you think something is, that is always gonna be the most important thing,"... Spencer really couldn't help it. The book was so good he couldn't put it down. Not even for sex.

And now that he'd finished, he was focusing on what his brain decided it couldn't handle before, remembering her wet, hot breath on his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair as she rode his thigh, begging him for attention.

He was feeling guilty.

And he was going to spend the whole rest of the weekend making it up to her. He swore it, no matter who called, no matter what came up, he wasn't going to pay any attention to it unless it was his girlfriend's limbs tangled with his.

His hand reached for the book so he could return it with the others, but he thought better of it, wondering if Y/N would say anything. Instead, he figured walking in empty-handed and announcing how he was ready to give her his undivided attention for the rest of eternity if she'd let him would be a better option.

Spencer was feeling good about his decision, but when he opened the bedroom door and saw her, he felt even worse about ignoring her.

Because there she was, one foot pressed flat into the mattress and the other crossed over her knee, exposing her bare cunt to the world as she held a book in her hands. She looked statuesque and absolutely delectable, and he'd turned her down for a book he could have easily finished tomorrow morning.

Oh, he was definitely going to make it up to her...

"H—Hey, babe," he got out, trying to get her attention like she hadn't already heard the squeaky door open.

"Hey," she responded, similar in tone to how he'd answered the same greeting earlier, and it made his stomach turn.

Was she doing it on purpose?

Spencer took cautious steps towards her, stepping around the bed and clearing off the books scrambled on his side so he could take their place. "What are you reading?"

Rather than speaking, she tilted the book so he could see the cover and then returned to her position, eyes scanning the pages, and he couldn't tell if she was doing it to mess with him or if she was truly invested.

"Okay... Well, um... I'm finished now, i—if you wanted to, um..."

When Y/N finally took her eyes off the pages, she looked at him up and down as he sat on the bed... She took in his apologetic eyes, the slight pout on his lips that she could never resist...

And then she resisted him. Sort of.

"Eh, sure. Just let me finish this chapter first."

She sounded utterly bored.

And once again, Spencer wasn't sure if it was genuine or if she was just doing it to get back at him. But either way, it made him feel bad about before. He wanted to respect her wishes, grant her the time to finish reading just as she'd granted it to him... But he also wanted to make sure she knew just how sorry he was.

"Oh... Okay." He laid down next to her and watched her face as she read, her eyes occasionally blinking, mimicking the butterflies in his stomach at the sight before him. Even if she was mad at him, she was still absolutely stunning, and he was never going to take it for granted.

His fingers reached out to brush some of the hair from her eyes so he could see her better, and despite herself, she smiled a little, gently leaning into his touch.

That's my way in...

"I'm really sorry, Y/N... For ignoring you. I was just really caught up in the book and I—"

"Babe, it's fine," she dismissed, like it wasn't ever a big deal in the first place. "Trust me, I totally get it now. This is so good..."

As soon as she finished speaking, her eyes were roaming the words again, her bottom lip tucking gently between her teeth as she turned a page.

Oh... so she wasn't just messing with me, then...

Spencer's eyebrows raised and he sighed a little, truly unsure where to go from here. "Oh... Well... I'm glad you like it?"

She hummed, barely acknowledging him, and it amused him to his very core. So much so that he couldn't help but lean forward to kiss her cheek out of habit. And when she scrunched her nose, barely brushing off his touch, he started feeling a bit more devious. So he kissed her again, this time on the jaw, and then again and again trailing down her neck. And he stayed there, sucking small marks into her skin while she remained in her position.

He remembered what he saw when he opened the door, and the thoughts swirling around in his head begged him to utilize it.

He really wanted to be polite and let her finish reading... But also...

Spencer shifted, leaving the bed only to return on the other end, with no pants as he crawled up in between her legs on his knees. Seeing as she wasn't going to move her legs at all, he settled for running his hands gently over them, tracing every dip and curve they took, all the way down to the back of her thigh, which was out and exposed as it was aiding in resting her ankle over her other knee.

When he got close to her exposed pussy, she shivered a little. "You're distracting me..."

The obvious teasing that laced her words sent a smile to his lips. He couldn't see her face for a moment, but then she angled the book down and peered over it, giving him eyes that challenged, Do it and see what happens...

So, without breaking eye contact, Spencer gently ran his finger along the opening of her wet cunt and watched as she flung the book back up to her face, hiding it from view. He played with her clit for a while, circling it gently with his thumb while his middle finger slowly slipped in and out of her.

Y/N whined. "That's not fair... At least when I was interrupting you, I didn't try to give you a handjob..."

Spencer hummed in agreement, removing his fingers from her and bringing them to his lips. "Hmm, I suppose you're right..."

So how am I going to make it even...

He took his dick out of his underwear then, holding it in his hand and resisting the urge to slip it inside of her. Instead, he settled for the small gap between her thighs, a whine escaping him once he realized it was nowhere near the amount of stimulation he'd get from anything else.

His hips snapped forward urgently as he chased some form of release, frustrated at how it felt good, but not nearly good enough.

"Not so fun, is it?" Y/N sang, flipping a page amusedly once he'd let out another exasperated whine.

"What's to stop me from just fucking you?" he hissed, gripping her legs and trying his hardest to be patient.

"You won't... Because you won't learn your lesson otherwise."

Now she was messing with him. She was punishing him for ignoring her, and he breathed a laugh, knowing he should have seen it coming. But he wasn't going to argue with her, not when he was well and truly aware that he deserved this.

Still, it didn't make it any easier.

Spencer's whimpering increased tenfold, though, once she took a little pity on him and squeezed her legs tighter, giving him more friction and bringing him closer to the edge.

"O—oh my g—od..."

It happened so fast. One second he was relieved at this new wave of pleasure and the next he was pulled underneath it, his lower half tensing, pulsing, and burning hot. God, she was warm... And wet, and tight, but in a completely different way than normal, and it all was too much.

Her thighs and lower stomach were covered in cum, and that thought alone was enough to keep him going. He was overstimulated and probably should have refrained, but the silky, warm skin of her thighs just felt so good gliding over his dick, he just couldn't.

By now, Y/N had completely tossed the book aside, watching in awe as Spencer seemed unaware of her actions. His eyes were shut tightly, so focused on coming again, and the head of his cock peeked out through the gap in her thighs with every thrust forward, glistening and nearly red...

And then he was coming again, and she watched as the milky substance spilled out over her skin. A strand of it dripped slowly down the front of her left thigh, and the sight made her whine.

Spencer opened his eyes then, an overwhelming kernel of love and adoration blooming through his chest as he watched her watch him.

And then everything slowed.

He shoved the book off the bed and laid down beside her, looking down to admire his work.

"Fuck," is all he said, in one huff.

He was clearly pleased with himself, a fact which made Y/N beam. "Oh, you like that, huh?"

With a vigorous nod, he reached a hand out to spread some of the mess around, his fingers gliding slowly and softly over the planes and curves of her still-crossed legs.

"We have to do that again... Though, I could do without the 'you punishing me' part..."

Y/N let out a laugh, grabbing his wrist and bringing his fingers to her mouth. She darted her tongue out to taste, slowly dragging the tip along the underside of his middle finger before taking it fully in her mouth.

"Don't give me a reason to punish you, then," she quipped back after letting his finger go with a soft pop and tilting her head to look at him.

That look in her eyes, the one that always gave him butterflies, elicited another heavy nod.

"Deal."

———

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[neonlights92]

Night Changes: PART TWO

Jeon Jungkook has spent the last twenty years alone.  Single.  Solo.

And that’s just the way he likes it.  That is, until he meets the supposed love of his life.  Suddenly he’s falling over himself at the chance of a real relationship with someone.

The only thing getting in his way? You.

genre: fuckboy!jungkookie, college!jungkookie, romcom, e2l (kinda)

AN: I am so fuckin soft for college Kook you wouldn’t even belieeeeeve

Within days of their ‘truce’, Jungkook realises what a huge dickhead he truly is for not remembering Y/N’s name.

She shares his timetable almost entirely.

“I’m the worst.” He bemoans after a particularly stressful lecture on American poetry, “You weren’t kidding when you said you were in all my classes.”

“Almost all your classes.” She laughs a little at the look on his face and shrugs, “I did tell you.”

“It makes perfect sense now why you hate me.”

Y/N nudges him playfully and shakes her head, “I don’t hate you.” “Yes you do.”  He sniffles dramatically, “And you should.  I’m an asshole.”

She pulls a face, “Now what am I meant to do here?  Tell you that you’re not an asshole?  That would be lying.” Jungkook reaches for his heart theatrically and frowns.

“I deserve that.”

She scoffs playfully, “Shut up, Jungkook.”

It’s been exactly four days since Jungkook and Y/N began to hatch their plan to try and get their respective soulmates to fall in love with them.

And though Y/N’s original idea was to host some kind of movie night at her apartment Jungkook has been slowly persuading her into throwing a full blown party.  Park Jimin is an absolute animal, Jungkook promises her (that’s a huge stretch, but what college student doesn’t like alcohol and loud music?) and throwing a party is a surefire way to get him to agree to coming. 

But Y/N isn’t so easily swayed.

“I’m going to make it up to you,” Jungkook tells her confidently, “I’m going to make sure that you and Jimin get together, and then when you have beautiful babies together you’ll be thanking me.  And we’ll forget all about the incredibly unfortunate way we met each other.” Y/N’s smile is soft, but Jungkook sees it.

“I know you will,” She says, “I have faith in your matchmaking abilities, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Which reminds me….Did you think about what I said, Y/N?”  

Jungkook has to admit - he really likes having her around.  Try as he might at first to have seen the worst in her, he has to admit Y/N’s not half bad. 

“About the party?” 

He winks, “Bingo!” 

“It’s a bad idea.”

“Oh my god-” 

“No, because I’m such a wallflower,” She insists, shaking her head firmly, “Jimin will just think I’m boring.”

“I’ll help you come out of your shell.  I’ve told you that already.  It will be like a life lesson for you - a chance to shine in the spotlight.” 

“I don’t shine,” Y/N is whining now, “It’s stupid to even try.”

“No it’s not,” Jungkook insists, “Everybody shines.  In their  own way.  Everybody.” He feels kind of awful for her. 

How can she even think that way about herself?

“You don’t - it’s not.  C’mon Jungkook I can’t-”

“What about the night we met?”  Jungkook interrupts, as the two round the corner of Jungkook’s street, “You were partying then, weren’t you?  You were shining then?” She flushes, “That’s different.”

“How?” She shuts her eyes for a moment.  Jungkook worries he might have pushed her too far.  He slips his bottom lip between his teeth and just as he opens his mouth to apologise she sighs heavily.

“It’s stupid.”

He brushes a hand over her shoulder, “It’s not.”

Her eyes open and he’s taken aback by the softness there. 

He wants to reach out and maybe pat her cheek but he decides against it.  Fuckboy or not, Jungkook is not the kind of guy to do that.  Is he?  No.  He isn’t.

Besides.  Soomi.

“Okay.  Okay.  I’ll throw the damn party.  But you’re helping me with everything, okay?”

Jungkook feels something like electricity shoot up his ass.  (He won’t ever tell anyone else he thought that.) 

“Yes!  This is going to be perfect Y/N I swear.  Jimin will love it.  So will you,” He grins like he’s hit the jackpot, “It’s the last day of semester in three weeks time.  We’ll use that as a reason okay?  And we’ll plan everything together.  It will be amazing.” Y/N’s eyes dart across Jungkook’s face nervously. 

She seems to be looking for something - what he’s not sure - but after a moment she nods.

“Fine.  Okay.  End of semester,”  Her lips fall into a small smile, “Do you think this will work?”

They stop at the entrance of Jungkook’s building.

“It’s perfect Y/N.  I swear.  Just perfect.”

When her smile widens Jungkook thinks he’s never seen her look better.

“I’m trusting you Jungkook.”  She narrows her eyes playfully, “Don’t fuck it up.”

He crosses his index finger across his chest and nods determinedly.

“Trust me, Y/N.  We’ll have Park Jimin eating out of your hand before you know it.”

And he really believes it, too.

//

The next day Jungkook runs into Y/N at lunchtime.  He hasn’t seen her in any of his classes today and when he texts her to tell her this, she reminds him that Friday is the only day they don’t share a timetable.

He has to admit he’s kind of bummed.  

So when he finds himself wandering into the campus garden with Hoseok trailing less than enthusiastically behind him, his eyes zero in on her immediately.

She’s eating some kind of burrito - probably extra spicy as she’s told him that’s the only way to eat Mexican food - and reading a book.  Of course she’s reading a book.

Nerd.

“Hey Hobi let’s go sit over there.”  He points her out to his friend and Hoseok raises a brow.

“Who’s that?” “Y/N.”

“Y/N?”  His brow raises even higher if possible, “Y/N as in the girl you slept with who’s name you can’t remember and who’s roommate you are in love with?  And who you’ve promised to help set up with Park Jimin?  That Y/N.” Jungkook frowns, “Well when you say it like that…” He rolls his eyes, “Shut up.  Let’s just go.” Hoseok shrugs and follows his friend - what good will it do him to argue anyway? - and when Jungkook reaches his destination he clears his throat noisily.  Y/N looks up and Jungkook notices she’s wearing a pair of thick-framed glasses.  He has to admit… She looks kind of adorable in them.

The moment recognition dawns on her face, Y/N’s lips lift.

“Hi.” Jungkook’s smile widens when she grins up at him.

“Hi.”  She shifts slightly, “What are you uh - doing here?” “Stalking you obviously,” Jungkook takes a seat beside her on the blanket she’s set up to eat on, and gestures for Hoseok to do the same, “This is my friend Hoseok.  The one I said dances with your boyfriend.” She wrinkles her nose and flushes, “Jungkook!  He’s not my boyfriend.”  She turns to Hoseok and smiles softly, “Hi.” 

Hoseok - to his credit - doesn’t seem to mind the Jimin comment.  He smiles back at her.

“Hi Y/N.”

Jungkook unwraps the dismal lunch he’s made himself - a sweetcorn and tuna salad - and gestures to the book sitting in Y/N’s lap.

“What’s that?”

She looks down and then up, “Oh.  It’s uh - god.  It’s stupid.” Jungkook quirks a brow, “C’mon tell me.  What is it.” She hesitates for a second and then rolls her eyes, seemingly accepting her fate.

Jungkook almost wants to remind her that they’re friends - she shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of him - but he stays quiet. 

She lifts the book to show him the cover.

“It’s a book on gaining confidence.”  Her shoulders shrug, “I thought it might help.  Y’know…  With the whole…” Her eyes flit over to Hoseok briefly, “Jimin thing.”

Hoseok chuckles and it catches Jungkook off guard.

He’d almost forgotten his friend was there.

“That’s adorable,” Hoseok comments, “Man if a girl did that for me I’d be beyond flattered.” Y/N’s cheeks flush and she shakes her head, “No - I mean.  I don’t know.  It’s not just for him…”

“Still.” She bites her bottom lip and shrugs, “I mean I guess.  Yeah.  He should be flattered.” Hoseok laughs again and Jungkook has a sneaking suspicion his friend might be flirting.

He doesn’t like that.

Y/N is not for Hoseok.  Not at all.

“Well she’s not reading the book for you,” Jungkook tells him, trying to control his anger, “She’s reading it for Jimin.” Hoseok raises a brow.  He takes a moment and then smiles again.

“I gathered.”

Jungkook spends the rest of the lunch break trying to stop whatever weird energy Hoseok and Y/N have going on.

There is absolutely no way in hell that Jung Hoseok thinks he can just swoop in and ruin all his plans, right?  Y/N needs to fall in love with Jimin. Park Jimin needs to be the one laughing with her and smiling at her and flirting with her.

He’s absolutely livid by the time Y/N scurries off to class.

“What the fuck was that?” Hoseok pulls a face, “What?”

“That.  That… Flirting.  What was that?”  Jungkook has barely even touched his lunch (and it’s got nothing to do with the absolute miserable state of it, he swears.) 

Hoseok seems confused for only a moment later.  Then his face opens up.

“Oh, right.”  He shakes his head, “I wasn’t flirting, Jungkook.” Jungkook hates the look on his friend’s face.  Like he knows something Jungkook doesn’t.

“What’s that look for Hoseok?” Hobi chuckles and shakes his head, “Nothing Jungkook.  Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook spends the rest of the day thinking about that godforsaken look.

//

Jungkook wakes up the next morning (which thank god happens to be a Saturday,) to a text message from Y/N.  He’s been trying to convince her to use more emojis - but she refuses.

Secretly, he finds her texting kind of cute.

But he’ll never tell her that.

Y/N: Are you free today?

Jungkook: as a bird.  what did you have in mind?? :) 

Y/N: It’s my birthday.  Soomi is taking me out bowling.  Wanna come?

Jungkook feels his heart swim all the way up to his throat.

Soomi?  And wait what - it’s Y/N’s birthday? He’s sort of offended she only brought it up now.

Jungkook: uhhh… what?? happy fuckin birthday y/n!!! ur naughty!!! birthday ??? why didnt you tell me yesterday??? 

Y/N: You’re an English Lit student.  Use proper vocabulary and grammar please.  And I don’t know I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Jungkook: u cant change me boo… u just text like a granny.  its your birthday stupid ofc its a big deal.  mind if i invite some of my friends??

It’s a few minutes before Y/N finally replies. 

Y/N: Yeah.  Sure.  Meet us at Blue Pins in an hour?

Jungkook: c u there… birthday girl!!!!!

Y/N: Ugh.

Jungkook smiles at the way she still acts like she hates him even though he knows she doesn’t really.

It really is the start of a beautiful friendship.

//

An hour later Jungkook finds himself sat in a booth with Hoseok, Taehyung and Namjoon, nervously tapping his fingers against the surface of the table.

Hoseok clicks his tongue loudly and grabs his friend's hand from across the booth.  His eyes are narrowed a little.

“Will you calm down?” “Are you kidding?” Jungkook’s eyes are as wide as a pair of saucers, “I’m about to meet the woman I’m going to marry.”

Hoseok scoffs at that and Taehyung scrolls through his phone, bored as always.  

After a moment, Taehyung clears his throat, “He said yes.” 

Jungkook feels like his heart has just fallen out of his asshole.

“What?”

“Jimin said yes,” Taehyung rolls his eyes, almost as if he’s annoyed at this spectacular outcome, “He’ll come to Y/N’s party at the end of the semester..”

“Oh fuck YES!” Jungkook fist pumps the air in joy as Hoseok chuckles in delight.

“You’re overreacting,” Namjoon tells his friend seriously, “Jimin coming does not equal Jimin falling in love with Y/N.”

“It gets me one step closer though,” Jungkook feels lighter already, “And one step closer to that means one step closer to Soomi falling in love with me.”

Namjoon snorts out a laugh, “Stop it.”

“What?” Jungkook takes a swig from the cappuccino he insisted on ordering as soon as they arrived, “It’s true.”

“You’re not seriously thinking you’re in love with this girl Jungkook?”  Hoseok’s eyes dance with mirth, “I know you man.”

“What do you mean?”

Hoseok raises a dubious brow, “You’re the ultimate fuckboy.”

“I am not.”

“Yes.  You are.”  Taehyung tacks on helpfully, “Notoriously so, actually.”

“Shut up.” 

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it but he knows his friends are kind of right.  Sue him - he’s young and handsome and he’s in college.  Everybody fucks around in college.

“And anyway I don’t actively pursue girls unless I have the intention of taking it somewhere.”  Jungkook crosses his arms, “A fuckboy I may be, but a dickhead I am not.”

“Says the guy who forgot Y/N’s name after a vigorous night of lovemaking.”  Namjoon grins like the cat who got the cream and Jungkook wants to smack him.

“You can thank your dear friend Kim Taehyung for that.”  Jungkook replies sharply, narrowing his eyes at his so-called childhood best friend.

Taehyung gasps like he can’t believe what Jungkook’s just said.

“Seven tequilas on an empty stomach is never a good idea Tae,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You kept insisting.”

Taehyung answers with a flippant wave of his hand, eyes finally moving away from his phone, “Whatever.  You’re an adult, right?  You could’ve said no.”

“Not when free alcohol is involved.” “Anyway Kookie, the point is you can’t be in love.”  Hoseok leans back like he’s just discovered the meaning to life.  Always so smug.

Jungkook can’t help but find it a little annoying.

“And how, oh wise one, are you coming to this conclusion?” Jungkook’s tone is dripping with sarcasm.  He raises a brow at his friend and gives him the most pointed look he can manage.

It’s still Hoseok and Jungkook has to admit he respects his opinion the most.

“Because you’re you.  And you barely know this girl.”  Hoseok rolls his eyes, “That’s how.”

“I find that offensive,” Jungkook retorts, “People are allowed to change and grow.  Now I’ve met Soomi I’m different.”

Namjoon shakes his head, “There’s no point, Hobi.  We all tried, believe me.  But he’s decided that he’s in love with her.  Just get on board with it.”

Jungkook sends Hoseok a toothy grin once he swallows the last of the cappuccino and nods emphatically.

He knows what his friends think of him.

That he’s slutty and careless.  That commitment scares the shit out of him.  That he’s incapable of monogamy.  A combination of all of the above.

But Jungkook knows the truth.  He didn’t want a girlfriend before this because he hadn’t met someone that made sense to him.

And what’s the point of being with someone unless you’re all in?

“Anyway when you’re guests at our wedding it’ll all make sense,” Jungkook pushes his empty coffee cup to the side, “We’re meant to be.”

Taehyung laughs at this - despite himself - and Hoseok and Namjoon chuckle too.

“Jungkook?” The sound of someone calling his name causes him to turn quickly, eyes widening when he sees who it is.  Y/N.  She’s smiling at him of course - but that’s not what causes Jungkook to almost go into cardiac arrest.

No.  Of course not.

It’s the beautiful angel standing beside Y/N that causes him to almost forget how to breathe.

“Hi,” He squeezes out despite himself, eyes riveted to Soomi’s beautiful face, “Hi.”

Soomi smiles and Jungkook is immediately breathless.

“Jungkook right?  Y/N’s… Friend.”  The suggestive tone annoys Jungkook - he can’t have Soomi thinking he belongs to anyone else but her - and he nods.

“Yeah.” “But just a friend now,” Y/N pipes up helpfully, “We… Uh… Worked through our differences.  And now we’re friends.  Just friends.  Totally platonic.” Jungkook thinks she’s kind of overkilling the whole thing but he doesn’t say anything.  Instead he smiles at Soomi and watches as her face puts two and two together.

Yes.  Yes.

Jungkook wants her - no he needs her to know that he’s single.

Really single.

Totally single and available and hers.

Namjoon clears his throat somewhere from Jungkook’s left.  He turns to his friends and nods quickly.

“Right.  Yes of course.  My friends - these are my friends.  Taehyung and Namjoon, and Y/N you’ve already met Hoseok.” The two share a small wave.  Jungkook ignores the stab of annoyance that sends to his gut.

“Hi,” Soomi smiles in a way Jungkook is sure is almost too heavenly to be real, “I’m Soomi.” God.  He really is a goner.

//

Jungkook doesn’t want to brag, but he is pretty good at bowling.

Okay.  Who’s he kidding?

He totally wants to brag.

The moment Y/N splits them up into two teams - Soomi, Jungkook and her versus Namjoon, Hoseok and Taehyung - he’s determined to win.

He has to win. 

He has to show Soomi one of his many, many, many talents. 

“You’re pretty good at this,” Soomi remarks as he throws his first strike, “Or is that just beginner’s luck?”

Jungkook shakes his head and shrugs, “I’d say I’m pretty good.”

Her giggle is music to his ears.

“That’s impressive.  What kind of girl doesn’t want a man who can throw a strike?”

Jungkook smirks, “That’s what I always say.” Her eyes crinkle at the side when she smiles and though it's not quite as adorable as Y/N’s - he’ll never admit this out loud - she still looks so sweet his heart constricts almost painfully in his chest.  He forgets for a moment where he is, laying on the charm thick.

“Is that how you seduce poor unsuspecting women then?  With your bowling skills?”

He winks in that way that usually works and his smirk widens, “You know it!” 

Soomi giggles again and Jungkook is surprised at how smoothly this all seems to be going - when the sound of somebody throwing a gutter grabs his attention.

His eyes lift - thinking it has to be the other team - and he furrows his brow when he sees Y/N standing at the very top of the bowling lane, staring at the full set of pins in front of her.

Holy shit.

Jungkook momentarily forgets about Soomi - his competitive nature kicked into overdrive - as he shoots up from his seat and rushes towards Y/N.

“Oh my god,” He’s right beside her in an instant, “Was that you?”

Y/N looks up at him - cheeks flushed - and nods, “Yeah.  I’m terrible at bowling.”

“So why would you choose to come here?  On your birthday?” 

Jungkook is somewhere between disbelief and pure horror.  But he has to admit, the look on her face is sort of funny.  She’s mortified.

“Soomi suggested it.  She said it might be fun,” She looks away for a moment, “For her maybe.”

The sound of someone scoring a strike blares to Jungkook’s left and when he sees Taehyung performing some kind of ridiculous victory dance, he decides enough is enough.

“No.  No.”  Jungkook sets his jaw, “I’m going to help you.”

Y/N’s brow lifts, “What?” “I’m going to help you.  You’re going to score a strike.” 

She snorts out a laugh.

“I don’t think you realise how truly terrible I am at this.”

“And I don’t think you realise how truly competitive I am,” He gestures to the balls, “Grab the lime green.  That’s the lightest.”

Y/N watches him for a moment longer.  She looks behind him and moves her hand in the general direction of Soomi.

“What about Soomi?” He flares his nostrils, “She’ll still be there after I finish helping you.”

Y/N stares at him, and when Jungkook cocks his head towards the row of balls lining the back of the bowling alley, she shrugs and follows his command.  

Jungkook takes this as a moment to teach Y/N how to shine.  

After all, what better way to fell good about yourself than being good at something you always thought you sucked at?

When Y/N comes back with the lime green ball, he grabs her free arm and positions her to stand with her back to his chest, wordlessly.

“Woah.”  Y/N breathes, “What are you doing?”

Jungkook’s mouth is right beside her ear, “Just follow me okay?  I’m helping you, I swear.”

He slides his hand down to the ball and grips her fingers carefully.

“Don’t hold too much tension in your wrist,” He tells her sternly, “You’re too tense.  You’re always too tense.  Relax.” Something strange passes between them.  Y/N takes a long, deep breath, and Jungkook tries to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Now slowly, slowly, bring the ball back,” Y/N follows Jungkook’s movements, “And… Release.”

He helps her flick it onto the lane, and they watch in suspense as the ball spins towards the pins.  There is almost a moment where everything is suspended in time - before the ball crashes with the pins and nine of them fall down.

Y/N squeals in happiness and turns around sharply, throwing her arm around Jungkook’s neck and pressing herself against him in a hug.

“Thank you Jungkook!” She is smiling so widely, his heart turns, “You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome.”  Jungkook finds he’s grinning too, “You deserve it.  Happy birthday Y/N.” He pushes some hair out of her face - practical purposes of course, it was getting in her eyes - and she seems to catch her breath at the gesture. They stare at each other for a moment, before someone clears their throat from behind them and they break apart.  Soomi is standing between them, holding a bubble gum pink bowling ball.

Jungkook wonders almost flippantly if she only picked it up for it’s colour.

“It’s my turn, right?” She turns her smile on Jungkook and he melts.

God.

She’s beautiful.

“Right.”  Jungkook smiles back, “Your turn.”

When he turns to move back to their booth he notices Y/N watching their interaction carefully.  Her eyes flit away the moment she’s caught, but Jungkook knows what he saw.

Strange.

Very strange indeed.

//

Later on that evening, after they’ve all shared a pizza, and Jungkook has spent the rest of the night watching Soomi with hearts in his eyes, Hoseok clears his throat with purpose.

They’re sat in their living room - Hoseok has decided to crash over because, why not? - and playing a midnight mario kart match, when Jungkook’s friend seems to have something to say.

Jungkook pauses the game.  He turns to Hoseok.

“Yes?” There is a brief moment of silence.  Taehyung is forever scrolling through his phone, and Namjoon has long ago gone to bed.  Hoseok clicks his tongue.

“Are you sure you like Soomi?”

The question completely throws Jungkook off.

He raises a questioning brow, “What?”

“I’m just - asking.  I’m just…” Hoseok turns to Taehyung for support.  When his friend doesn’t notice, he smacks him across the shoulder, “Tae.”

“What?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “Have you guys talked about this?” Taehyung seems to realise where the conversation has just come from.  He actually locks his phone and sets it to one side.

“Yeah.”  Taehyung answers honestly, “We have.” “I’ve told you guys a million times.  I know I barely know her but -” “That’s not it.”  Hoseok licks his bottom lip, “I mean it’s crazy you think you fell in love at first sight but… Stranger things have happened.” Jungkook scoffs, “So?  Why have you asked then?” Another beat.

Taehyung sighed heavily, “Because we think you like Y/N.”

“What the fuck?” Jungkook snorts out a laugh because really - what else can he do?, “Why the fuck would you think that?” His friends share another look and Jungkook hates that.

He hates that they think they know him better than he knows himself.

Hoseok shakes his head, “Just a feeling.” “A feeling that’s wrong.”  Jungkook states firmly, “Dead wrong.” Taehyung nods and picks up his phone, “Fine.  Alright.  We’re wrong then.” Hoseok seems like he wants to say more but he doesn’t opting instead for something that sounds sort of like a grunt.

Jungkook watches his friends for a moment longer.

“Yeah.  So wrong.”

//

That night, when Jungkook’s just about to go to bed he receives a text message.  He opens his phone, expecting Y/N and finding, instead, an unrecognised number staring back at him.

Soomi: hiiiii jungkook :) it's soomi… y/n gave me ur number. hope u dont mind.

Jungkook pushes his friends’s ridiculous theory to the back of his head, and focuses instead on the fact that Soomi has just texted him.  His thumbs move to answer her but he pauses, moving instead to open Y/N’s chat history.

Jungkook: hey. happy bday again champ. u da bomb!! also thanks for giving soomi my number. u a real one for that, chief!!! :) :) :)

Y/N’s reply comes only a few minutes later.

Y/N: Thank you Jungkook.  I appreciate it.  And no worries… She seemed to really be into you after tonight.  So well done, yeah? :) 

Jungkook smiles at the emoji that he imagines Y/N forced herself to add, and almost misses the part when she says Soomi was into him.

Right.  Yeah.  Perfect.

He opens up Soomi’s chat and starts to write out a reply.

This is exactly what he wanted.

//

TAGLIST:  @cuddleboo @veronawrites @minluvly @severetimetravelnerd @moonchild1 @bunnyjeonjk @multicolourunicorn  @somewhereinthestarss  @jwlmnbt  @jojo-suga @zera10 @ggukkieland @thesugatoyourtae @dxlbts​ @wxndi

[please-buckme]

A Broken Heart.

Chapter 1

Lee Bodecker x fem!reader

Chapter warnings: slight mentions of sex, 18+,hitting, sad shit, break up, heart break, angst, cursing

Chapter Summary: reader and Lee breakup.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2 //Chapter 3

The world felt as if it were shattering around you, crumbling beneath your feet like the rapture was upon you. Honestly, if the world did come to an end right now you’d be elated. At least you wouldn’t have to deal with your broken heart anymore.

You sat against a wall in your room, wallowing in your own self petty. It’d be three days since Lee Bodecker had broken things off with you. He had said that you were hurting his campaign, that he still loved you but needed a woman of power to help him become sheriff of this godforsaken town.

Lee had taken you out in the same field he took you to every time y’all made love. He kissed you so passionately, held you so closely. If you weren’t so caught up in the way his hands felt against your bare skin, you would’ve noticed how distraught he was the entire time he made love to you. It was his way of saying goodbye before he actually said goodbye. After he’d broken up with you, you felt disgusting and violated.

You’d never felt like that with Lee. He was your deputy and sinner in disguise. He was your rock and your soft place to fall. When the tears finally fill, the most empty feeling you’d ever felt emerged in your gut. One day you thought you were gonna be Mrs. Lee Bodecker. You daydreamed constantly of your wedding day and sharing a bed with the man you loved for the rest of your life ‘til you were old and gray. To know now that dream will always remain a dream.. that’s what hurt the most.

After Lee drove you home, you sat in your room for three days straight, not even coming out for supper. Your momma tried to convince you to eat and it worked once on the second day, until you threw up right after.

She didn’t understand. She’d never been in love, not really. Not love like you and Lee had. People told y’all all the time how rare and beautiful your love for one another was and you agreed. Just looking back on those memories made you sick. You listened in awe of how beautiful your love was not knowing Lee would only break your heart days later.

Today was Sunday, the lord's day, and usually you never wanted to go to church, but today you really didn’t want to go. The whole town, including Lee and his new arm candy, would be there. It’s the first time you’d be seeing Lee since he dropped you off. It was too soon, especially since you knew he’d already moved on.

As you sat with your head between your knees, your momma barged through your bedroom door.

“Jesus, girl. Why aren’t you up and ready to go? Church starts in an hour and you aren’t gonna make me late again.” She stomped over to your closet and shuffled through your dresses.

“Momma.. I- I’m not ready. I can’t see… him with her. I just ain’t ready for that kinda humiliation.” You sighed, trying to reason with your Bible-thumpin momma.

“Oh, no. You’ve embarrassed me enough this week. Disappearin’ for three whole days over a boy? You’re pathetic. You know, back in my day, we didn’t get to sit around and sulk the days away. No. We had to carry on like everything was fine and that’s what you’re gonna do. Now, get dressed.” She threw you a dress, one of your favorites actually. It was a teal blue, babydoll dress that you usually saved for special occasions, but you weren’t feeling very special at the moment and now you were just pissed off.

You stood and came face-to-face with your momma, “I’m not going. You have no idea how I feel. You can’t. You’ve never felt love the way we had it, Momma. No one ever loved you or me the way I love Lee. You couldn’t possib-“

Just then you felt a sharp sting against your cheek as your momma slapped you across the face.

“Not. Another. Word. You will be dressed and waitin for me at the car in ten minutes. No poutin’ and no sulkin’ in the pews. I don’t wanna hear another word about that boy.” She turned to exit your room but turned around to give you one last dig to the heart, “And, honey, a man in love would never have done what he did to you. Remember that next time you wanna preach to me about love.” With that she left your room. Your cheek still stung from the unexpected hit to the face. Your momma was cruel but she’d never hit you before.

The slap, in a way, was kind of refreshing. For a split second you’d totally forgotten about Lee. Only for a second, though. His crystal blue eyes and cheshire lips never leave your thoughts completely. You shook your head in defeat, trying to erase him from your mind. It didn’t work, but you took a deep breath and began getting ready.

//

The church parking lot was full when you and your momma pulled in. Rickety old trucks to brand spankin new, brightly colored cars littered the dusty lot. You spotted Lee’s car immediately, thankfully he was already inside.

The whole town came to this church, which wasn’t that many people. Nevertheless, everybody knew everybody and, even if you didn’t care, everybody knew everybody’s dirty laundry. Old Man Karl got pulled over last week for a DUI, Nancy from the library cheated on her husband with his brother and.. oh yeah, Lee Bodecker dumped his long time girlfriend for the mayor's daughter.

Lee and yours breakup was the talk of the town. You were the fresh, new gossip in this boring as hell town and there’s nothing you could do about it.

You couldn’t get two steps into the church without being bombarded by women you didn’t want to know but also knew too much about, asking if you were alright and that they’d pray for you on this ‘beautiful, glorious Sunday morning’. Yeah, same shit different day, different person.

One woman stayed to chat with your momma, so you went to find your seat. Your usual spot was next to Lee and naturally that’s where you headed, only to be greeted by Lee and His new girlfriend, Laura-Jean Mancon. She was one of those girls who’d been pretty her whole life. Blind hair, blue eyes and a huge rack. Everybody thought she’d go into modeling or start an acting career but she never did. Instead, she stayed and was now going to marry Lee. In your eyes, that’s the best path she could’ve taken. You’d take her place any day.

“Mornin’ Y/n.” Lee cleared his throat, unable to make eye contact with you.

“L-“ You went to say his name but found you couldn’t. It was only one syllable, only three letters and it pained you to even think about, let alone say aloud. You cleared your throat, “Laura-Jean, nice to see you again.”

Laura-Jean said nothing in return. She just hummed, waiting for you to talk away.

“I guess I’ll go.. find me a new seat.” You took a deep breath when you felt the tears welling up in your eyes, again. Lee stared straight forward the whole time you stood there, too cowardly to even look you in the eyes. Some Sheriff he’ll be.

You scanned the crowd of people and found your momma in the front row, of course. You made your way up the aisle and took your seat next to her. The chorus sang their hems and the preacher clapped his way in on the last versus.

“How are we doin’ on this fine Sunday mornin’?” he drawled to the crowd. He got an assortment of greetings in return.

“I said ‘HOW ARE WE DOIN ON THIS BRIGHT N’ SHINY SUNDIE MORNIN’?’.”

“GOOD” the people shouted in return. You could hear Laura-Jean giggling over something but you wouldn’t dare look back. Lee always made church bearable, making wise cracks at the preaches expense.

“Now, today I’d like to talk a little bit about love. Of course, we’re always talkin’ about love when it comes to our lord and savor, Jesus Christ. But just for a moment, it ain’t about him. No. This mornin’ I’m preachin’ to you about young love.”

Here we go.

“It comes and goes so fast, but when you have it, it’s one of the most beautiful things this world can offer you.. especially when you put a little Jesus in it.” The church laughed. You knew where this was going. Your stomach churned as you sunk down into the pew.

“I’d like to ask the newly engaged folks in the crowd to come and join me up here. You know who you are, soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Lee Bodecker.”

Your heart felt as if it were going to explode, a tear escaped through your lashes and you quickly wiped it away.

They walked up hand in hand, smiling for cheek to cheek. How could he be so happy, so calm after only being broken up for less than a week? Did he ever love you? Really love you. Like you loved him. Obviously not because you could never, in good conscience do this to him. You couldn’t stand on a stage wrapped arm in arm with another man while Lee sat, just as you were now, devastated and totally distraught.

“So tell us,” the preach beamed. “When’s the big day.”

Lee looked at you with a pained expression as Laura-Jean answered the preach.

“May 21st”

Your breathing heavies at the reply. Turning to your momma you whispered, “Momma, that’s in two weeks.”

“I know that. Now, hush.” She side eyed you with a full smile still pressed to her lips. Even your own mother didn’t seem to care about your feelings. You sat there, listening to Laura-Jean go on and on about their ‘big day’. Tears streamed down your face and you let them. You’d given up on trying to hide how hurt you really felt. When you looked up, Lee stared straight at you. He wasn’t crying but his pain ridden face told you everything. One look at him and you couldn’t breathe anymore. You stood abruptly, all eyes were on you and Laura-Jean had stopped talking.

“I- excuse me.” You said before booking it out the back door. Lee hollered out, asking you to wait. It was too late. You were half way out the door and couldn’t stand to be in that room for another second.

Your feet stomped against the grave, dust clouding up in your wake as you made your way to the road.

“Y/n!” Lee called out after you.

“Go away. I have nothing to say to you, L- fuck.” You cursed, trying desperately to get away from him.

“I said wait, goddammit.” He growled, capturing your bicep in his large hand.

“Let go of me!” You whined sounding out of breath.

“Not until you listened to what I have to say.”

“What, Lee? What could you possibly have to say?”

“I- I.. dammit. I know I put you in a tough position but-“

“A tough position?” You repeated.

“Let me finish.” He sighed and released your arm from his grasp, “I know I hurt you. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am, but, doll, this is it. This is my only chance at becoming Sheriff. You know how hard I’ve worked to get here and you’ve always been so supportive of my dream. I- I just thought.. out of everyone you would understand.”

Your skin burned as you imagined smoke blowing from your ears. Did he really just say that? That you should understand the break up and go on with your life like nothing happened like he is? You stood there frozen, breathing heavier and heavier as your brain tried to come up with a coherent response while trying to also remain a lady.

“I- I still love you. You know that, right?” He asked, bringing a hand to your cheek and wiping a stray tear away.

You flinched at his burning touch and slapped his hand away, “Don’t touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again. I don’t love you anymore. I can’t love you. Shit… seeing you was the best part of my day and now I can’t even look at you without feeling like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. I can’t even say your name anymore. Everything about you, now, fills me with so much pain and dread. So if that’s what your love is, keep it. I don’t want it anymore.”

“Doll,” A tear ran down his cheek, you now being the one who’s breaking his heart. “I never meant to hurt you. I swear.” He sniffles.

“Well, you did. I’m in so much pain.” You sobbed, “I’m in so much pain and I have no one to go to because you were my person. You have left me completely empty and utterly alone.”

“Y/n, I-“

“Save it, Bodecker. I’m done talking to you.”

Lee didn’t chase after you this time. He let the tears stream down his face as he watched you walk away. He was just as heartbroken as you but couldn’t show it., not when he was so close to winning this election. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and headed back towards the church. He knew you just needed time and that he’d still see you around town.

Seeing you today took his breath away. You wore your favorite dress that he bought you for your birthday so long ago. You didn’t have on any makeup, which he loved. You were so naturally beautiful and he did still love you with every piece of his shattered heart. He’d eventually come up with a plan to get you back, but for now he would respect your space.

//

Once you’d gotten home and shut the door, you couldn’t help but scream at the top of your lungs. Hoping for some sort of release from all this heartache you felt. Telling him you couldn’t love him was the hardest thing you ever had to do. You sat on the floor in the same position you were in before you left; head between your knees and sobbing like a baby.

There was no escaping him in this town. There was church and the grocery store and the diner you worked at part time. He was everywhere. He’d come in every morning you worked to have coffee with you. He had been a part of every little thing you do in your daily routine for as long as you can remember.

There was never a time you weren’t together. It was always just you and him. He was the one who held you when you were sad, but where was he now when you needed him most?

To you, there was only one way to fix this; get the hell out of here. Completely leave town and start anew somewhere else. You have an aunt that lives right outside of town. You can stay there until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you got up. Your aunt agreed to the plan and said you could stay with her for as long as you needed when you called her. You packed a small duffle bag and waited for her to pick you up.

When she did finally pull up out front, you hopped in the car and she drove off, leaving the dusty ole town you called home for so long. You took in a deep breath as you drove towards your new life. No Lee, no momma, no worries.

Dividers by: @firefly-in-darkness

Taglist: @haydens-moles , @c00lkidvibes , @tcc-gizmachine , @buckysm3talarm , @gogolucky13 , @cryptidcasanova , @heavenlyseb , @writersbuck , @teddy-bearbaby , @bbmommy0902 , @sweetllamaparadise , @thereblogcrusader , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @frostbytebaby , @jessyballet , @emotionallyandphysicallydone , @sarge-barnes-sir , @generalbagelcookieslime

(Dm me to be added to taglist)

[tojisveryown]

𝙸𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 | 𝟶𝟼

© 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚓𝚒𝚜𝚋𝚋𝚢𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛

𝙰𝚌: 𝚠𝚃𝟼𝙸𝙳𝟸𝚀𝟺𝙰𝙺𝚄𝟿𝚏𝚛 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚠𝚝

𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚑𝚘𝚕, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚐 𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟷.𝟿𝚔

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝙰𝚄, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚖𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝙿𝚕𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚕

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟶𝟼 | 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

(𝚄𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍)

⋆ 💌 ⋆

Spring was nearing to an end, the cherry blossom trees were on the verge of falling and the nights were filled with the sound of rain. Days passed and your spring break ended. 

The weather had been horrible, no sunny days were near. The cloudy and gloomy days were ongoing. The weather report stated that the next few weeks would be cloudy and or rainy. 

Your spring break was ending and school was around the corner. For the last day of break you did nothing but stay in bed, Utahime was out visiting her family so you were left alone to sulk on what you had overheard before break begun. 

Your last day was spent thinking how you’d be able to look Gojo in the eye after the information you acquired. “Who am I kidding? It’s not like he’s talking to me anyway.” 

You fell asleep sulking on the fact that tomorrow was hours away.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

You walked up the steps, reminiscing on the day you overheard Utahime and Gojo’s conversation. You knew that it was something that you couldn’t bring up so casually and that it was something that have had to come from Gojo’s heart. Gojo was the only one who would’ve been able to tell you, out of respect you decided not to poke your head into business that wasn’t yours. 

You reached the floor where your class was held and pursued your way to class, along the walk there Nanami had walked by your side.

“Good morning Y/N.” 

“Moring Nami,” you looked up at him and nothing had changed, still the same old Nanami, “You look the same.” 

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” Of course it wasn’t a bad thing, you hated change. You’ve always loved consistency. 

“Mmm, not particularly. See you later?” Nanami nodded and you both went your separate ways. 

You picked a seat and got yourself ready for the first boring day back. You dreaded this specific class, and what made you dread it even more was the fact that Gojo had the exact same schedule as you.

It didn’t help that the person who sat next to you was the person who you sought to ignore. 

“Miss me?” You knew who it was without even turning your head, it was the same person who was able to get your heart pounding, the one and only stupid Satoru.

You didn’t answer him, you felt as if there was nothing to say. It’s been weeks since he ignored you. Why the sudden change? 

It wasn’t that he knew you were eavesdropping, right?

“Hey,” he nudged your elbow with his “No need to ignore me.” Hypocrite much? He rested his big, fat, obnoxious, ugly, bug-looking head on his palm and looked straight at you. His crystal blue eyes were practically burning holes though your head.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

Throughout the lecture you were being bothered by Gojo, any chance he got he’d nudge your elbow and whisper things like 

“Hey, are you mad at me?” “Of course I’m mad idiot, you ignored me for weeks” is what you wanted to say

“Y/N, talk to me”

“Y/N the lectures almost over”

“Y/N let’s have lunch!”

You didn’t respond, it was time for Gojo to be ignored while you did the ignoring. Noticing that you wouldn’t respond he began passing you notes, he’d write down things on sticky notes and stick them on your notebook, arm, and even head. 

Most of the things he wrote were trying to get your attention, and when he got bored he began drawing penis’s on the notes and sticking them all over your arm. You gave him the side eye signifying you were done with his shit.

He looked up at you and noticed your sharp gaze, “I’m sorry.” He said as he took the sticky notes off your arm, notes, back, and backpack. 

He sat quietly next to you until the lecture was over. 

He noticed you weren’t packing your things, “Hey, class ended. Come on Y/N let’s get lunch.” He pulled your arm and grabbed your notebook.

“Gojo would you please leave me the fuck alone? I’m trying to work on this godforsaken project that you were supposed to help me with.” Gojo let go of your arm and flipped through your notebook.

“These note’s suck Y/N we’re never gonna get an A with this.” he looked at you innocently as you violently grabbed the notebook from his grip. 

“Fuck off Gojo, I’m trying here.”

“Not hard enough.” you sighed and packed your things going into the opposite direction from him. You were sick of Gojos antics.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

You found a seat at the very back of the library, you came here often especially when it was to study. You liked how peaceful it was and how not many people were around giving you the advantage.

Just when you were about to open up your notebook you were startled when hands appeared in front of your eyes. 

“Haha, so funny. I’m dying. Gojo i swear to god keep bugging me and I’ll kill you.” You later realized that Nanami’s hands were over your eyes after he let out a small laugh.

“You sound stressed.” Nanami pulled the chair beside you and sat down, “You okay Y/N?” 

“Yeah sorry, this projects killing me.”

“Mhm, is Satoru not helping you?” you flinched at his name, you had given up on calling him Satoru. He broke your trust. You hoped that he’d realize you went back to calling him Gojo, right?

“Not in the slightest.”

Nanami helped you revise your notes and for the rest of the break period you and Nanami caught up. You had heard how his spring break was and how he trip to Malaysia with his family went. You and Nanami had grown closer, and this didn’t go unnoticed by a certain blue-eyed boy.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

The following day Gojo again tries to talk to you but you ignore him, you were done with the inconsistency he had with you and you hated the fact that you’d always find yourself slipping when it came to him. 

“Y/N come on, why would you talk to me?”

Silence 

“Y/N please.” still nothing, “I’ll work on the rest of the project if it means you’ll talk to me again.”

“Okay deal but you’re on thin fucking ice Gojo.” and again you let yourself slip.

You had thought it’d be best for you to bury what you had heard about him deep into your heart. It was something that Gojo himself would decide to tell you and if he never spoke up about it, it comes to show that he never truly cared about you. You wanted to believe he did but why was it taking him so long to fess up? 

“Hey, let’s go on another date to you know.. catch up?”

⋆ 💌 ⋆

It was a Saturday afternoon, the skies were gloomy and grey and the weather was still horrible. The weather constantly put you down, you felt like it was too much of a drag to even get out of bed.

“Oh that’s right, I have a date with Gojo today.” You almost had second thoughts with the way you felt, you wanted to stay in a ball wrapped up in your sheets. 

Nonetheless you still got ready, during break to keep yourself distracted you went shopping for new clothes, you wanted to give yourself a new imagine, a makeover. It was time you come out of your shell, new beginnings were approaching, you couldn’t stay the same forever. You wanted change, you almost craved it.

⋆ 💌 ⋆

It was 6:47, You waited at the train station for Gojo, you came there fairly early but you couldn’t wait to get this stupid date over with. You don’t even know why you agreed, one thing led to another and your mouth moved on its own and now you’re here. 

You knew you had came a few minutes too early but you didn’t expect to wait a total of two hours. It was about to be nine o’clock and yet no sign of Gojo, not once did he text or call. 

“Maybe he forgot..” you sighed and looked up at the dark cloudy skies. “Ha, who am I kidding he didn’t forget.” You knew Gojo was a player, tons of girls fawned over him and craved his attention. You knew Gojo couldn’t resist their attention. You knew that the last thing he would crave, was yours.

Still, you waited another hour. By now there were a few crowds of people but you still weren’t able to spot the blue-eyed man.

Another hour passed by and it was nearing midnight. You wanted to believed he’d show up and that he didn’t forget, but with Gojo believing was never bound to end up well. 

You took a deep breathe and stood up from the bench you were hopelessly waiting at. You dragged your feet to the exit and just as you were about to take the first step leading outside your eyes met with a panting Gojo 

“Y/N.”

Was your hope being tested?

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I thought our date was tomorrow and then I saw-”

You cut him off by pulling him into a hug, “Shut up Satoru.” Your watery eyes hid themselves into the hoodie he was wearing. It smelt like the hospital, you knew he was lying. He didn’t forget, he needed an excuse. 

⋆ 💌 ⋆

Gojo took you to his apartment, it was late and most of the things you two could’ve done were already closing. His apartment was on one of the highest floors and the balcony he had gave you two the perfect advantage for stargazing. He set up a comfortable space for the both of you.

The stars weren’t completely visible but the dark clouds was indeed a sight to see. The silence between you and Gojo was very comforting. 

“The moon looks beautiful tonight isn’t it, Y/N?”

“Huh? It looks the same as always.”

Gojo laughed, his head was now turned facing you and moments later you turned to face him. You two stared into each others eyes, you both saw sadness and regret. You both craved a happy ending. 

Gojo leaned in and placed his soft lips on yours. One thing led to another leading you and him onto his bed. Tonight was the night where you and Gojo became one. 

⋆ 💌 ⋆

“I’m glad we spent time together. This will be one of my favorite days for the rest of my life.”

“Stop being corny.”

“Y/N.” He looked at you deeply with his crystal eyes, the moonlight shining on his skin, the warmth of his body pressed up against yours made this night special. Sadly all good things come to an end. “I’m sick.”

“I know but it’s just a little while longer and th-”

“She really is right you know, you really are a stupid Satoru.”

“Utahime it’s not like I can fucking tell her ‘Hey I have pancreatic cancer and I’m dying!’ Do you know how stupid that sounds?”

“Satoru-”

“Fuck I know okay?”

“If you know tell her. Do you honestly think she would be okay if one day you just stopped showing up?”

“There’s no hope for us, you know that Utahime. I refuse to be the reason that she can’t love after I’m gone.”

“You’re gonna be her biggest regret if you don’t love her now.”

“Yeah, I know.” Gojo’s expression on you softened, he cried in your arms and you cried in his, knowing the person before you was soon about to be yet another faint memory.

You finally understood why the weather had been horrible, mother nature felt for you and Satoru. That night the sky cried with you both.

“How much longer do you have?”

⋆ 💌 ⋆

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 | 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐! 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 :) 𝙰𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌! 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥

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𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @peppytine​ @enesitamor​ @fairyblue-alchemist​ @diluczs​ @honouredsatoru​ @thankuary​ @sookyshima​

© 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚓𝚒𝚜𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛

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[tobiosmilktea]

love; defined — iwaizumi hajime

1.5k words | genre/s: fluff | warning/s: — | pairing: iwaizumi x gn!reader

↪︎ in which iwaizumi hajime is head over heels in love with you, but the only problem is that he can’t seem to get it out.

a/n: a bit anticlimatic and overall a very boring oneshot but my braincells are literally fried from school so take it easy on me :p this was also supposed to be a whole 8k words as promised months ago but i couldn’t seem to finish it for the life of me so here is the snippet that made the cut :)

falling in love with one of his best friends was something iwaizumi hajime wasn’t expecting to happen in the eighteen years that he lived in his life. then again, expectations are fickle—nothing more than a figment of imaginative serendipities that always fail to come true.

he watches as you fiddle with the foil wrapper of the chocolate he bought you this morning. he always passes by a local cafe on the way to school and you never fail to appear in his mind whenever he sees those godforsaken chocolates on the display window. usually, he wouldn’t give in to such pleasures of spending money on something that will disappear in two minutes, but the thought of seeing your excited smile receive them ultimately won him over.

and to what he assumed was just a friendly little gesture, was nothing more than his feelings in disguise. feelings of which weren’t even a thing he realized he had until oikawa pointed it out to him in the midst of his whining.

oikawa would always scoff with offense that iwaizumi didn’t know was false or not written all over his face. he would name all the incidences in which iwaizumi would always favor you a bit more over him, buying you useless little knick-knacks cause it reminded iwaizumi of you to remembering such intricate details about you that were so specific that even oikawa himself (who was confident he knew a lot about you) didn’t.

it was more or less evident to both you and oikawa that iwaizumi was not someone at all experienced in love. besides, whenever someone in the friend group had a little flair for romance, everyone would pitch in to help win the person’s heart over, but in this case, it was different. the boys couldn’t possibly let you in on the little secret of iwaizumi’s feelings for you.

it would ruin the entire surprise!

so without you—the mastermind behind most of your matchmaking endeavors—left oikawa to do all his biddings. and god forbid that he was in charge of how his best friend could possibly win you over. iwaizumi knew it was a recipe for disaster, but it’s not like he would be any better dealing with his feelings alone.

iwaizumi rubbed his perspiring hands against the cotton of his uniform trousers, feeling the burning heat of nerves from his hands through the fabric. body restless, his knee was jumping up and down beneath your desk, to which he was sitting across from you.

it was only ten minutes into your lunch break, and yet it felt like an eternity. he wasn’t sure if it was because his heart was beating as if he was running a marathon or if it was because of the odd silence in the air, whatever it was, iwaizumi just hoped it would die out soon. it wasn’t like he could make any small talk with you either. hell, you two have been friends since you were children, so not only would it not make sense, but he was also well aware of your mild distaste at the idea of small talk.

the idea that having to have less than meaningful conversation about the weather just to ease awkward tension was something you would always criticize in movies and tv shows. iwaizumi remembered your words that sometimes being in silence, especially with those you are most comfortable with, was so much better than small talk.

and iwaizumi was following that, sure, but he still couldn’t help but feel the urge to remedy that silence.

“iwaizumi-kun,” a voice calls out to him, breaking him out of his thoughts. that’s when he noticed that he was staring at you the whole time as you flicked a look at him before the girl towering over your sitting figures.

he clears his throat, sitting up a bit taller as he turns his attention to the girl next to him, “yeah, what’s up?”

she hands him a pile of stapled sheets, “sensei asked me to give this to you. he said he wanted the paperwork done by next week.”

iwaizumi nods, taking the thick stack within his hands with a smile. a small thank you leaves his lips before she walks away and back to her own friend group. pursing his lips together, he feigns a sigh when he realizes it’s going to take him ages to go through all of this, yet that wasn’t his main concern at that moment. the main thing he was worried about was the fact that you noticed him staring that entire time.

knowing you, you’d probably ask him something stupid like whether you had something on your face or if you looked weird.

you never did. you were so infinitely perfect to iwaizumi that he couldn’t even look you in the eye as his calloused fingers fiddled with the corners of the papers in his hand.

“you like shinohara-san, huh?” you asked out of the blue, a smirk melted upon your lips as your cheek rested against your palm. iwaizumi looks up at you at an instant with confusion wringing over him. you laughed, “i can tell, you know–by the way you looked at her then. you should probably ask her out before the year ends.”

his confusion doubles, “why would i do that?”

“come on, iwa,” you groaned as you rolled your eyes, “she’s been dropping hints all year, haven’t you noticed?”

iwaizumi thinks to himself for a few beats before ultimately shaking his head.

“you’re helpless. at this point, you may never date.”

his eyes track back to the girl a few feet away from him before looking back at you, “she’s pretty, but she’s not my type.”

“oh?” your curiosity was suddenly piqued, “then what is your type?”

iwaizumi presses his lips together as if he was truly thinking hard and deep about his answer when in reality his answer was right in front of him. he didn’t really have the courage to say that to your face though, your eye contact was enough to send his heart ablaze.

“i suppose someone who’s headstrong and a challenge,” he answers. not too vague and not too detailed.

“so…” you trail, brows meeting as the following name slipped off your tongue teasingly. “oikawa?”

iwaizumi practically chokes on nothing, “god, no definitely not him.” then again, if he truly thought about it, you and oikawa were so much more similar than he initially thought.

no wonder you two were his best friends.

“i love him and all, but i’d literally go insane if i did.”

you laughed, “i’m just joking. besides, if it’s not him then who do you like?”

“i wouldn’t say i have a crush exactly, just a... heavy attraction.”

lies, lies, lies.

he did have a crush that was so much more than attraction. you had to cut him some slack, though. he didn’t know what to say, and just like that he was put on the spot by the only one capable of rendering him speechless just by your presence.

“i say go for it,” you say suddenly.

iwaizumi’s eyes flicker to yours, wide and seemingly in shock. “go for what?” he feigns innocence.

“as in asking them out.” you add with a grin, “worst-case scenario they say no and you both move on with your lives.”

“that’s true, but i doubt it would be easy,” he shrugs.

you roll your eyes again, exclaiming, “come on, your iwaizumi hajime for fuck’s sake! you’re literally co-captain of seijoh’s volleyball team, who could possibly reject you?”

“probably this person...”

“lies,” you say, almost like a command. “you just don’t have any confidence in yourself.”

iwaizumi scoffs playfully. there was a look of amusement melting on his expression as he did so, “and how do you suppose the best way of asking a person out then?”

“personally, i like it when people are straight up about it. no beating around the bushing or planning some big extravaganza. but then again, i’ve never been asked out before so i wouldn’t really know.”

you say it so nonchalantly, iwaizumi wasn’t sure if you were bluffing or not.

“you haven’t?”

you pull a face when he says those words. “you say that as if we haven’t been best friends since we’ve been kids.”

iwaizumi lets out a laugh, shaking his head as he thinks of the right words to say. “no, i just find it a bit unbelievable at the number of people who are missing out on the best person in the world.”

heat rushes to your face then as you look away. “i doubt there would be any.”

“you’d be surprised,” iwaizumi says confidently, it warms your heart. he pauses for a second as the thumping of heartbeat drowns out his thoughts.

the words that were laid so carefully on his tongue, all ready to be said yet held back by his own second-guessing, had slipped between his lips before he could catch himself.

“what if i was one of those people?”

the corner of your lips melts into a grin, “as if.”

general taglist: @yongboxerrr @rosepetalhaven @tvwhoresblog @tanakaslastbraincell @kellesvt @kitsunetea @milktyama @anejuuuuoy @rinphobics @watariisbestboy @larkspyrr @miyadarling

[otptings]

Flowers

☽ Requested; Yes

☽ Idol; Jungwon

☽Word Count; 3.3k+

☽ Genre; Hanahaki (lots of mentions for it) Friends to Lovers, slight Angst

☽ Warnings; Self deprecating thoughts, mentions of hanahaki disease, slight blood, lots of cringe flower metaphors

☽ Synopsis; Date night has been a monthly tradition since before Jungwon debuted in Enhypen. This is your first day out in months with Jungwon, but somethings different about this one. Is it the fact that he's an idol now, and all of your activities happen in empty establishments that have been bought out by his management, or is it your newly returning feelings for Jungwon that threatened to choke you out, causing dark violet flowers to spew out of your mouth at every interaction with him?

☽ A/n; The zoo I am describing for this is the Honolulu Zoo because that is the last one that I've been to, so if some of the animals aren't in Seoul than I apologize for that. Hope you enjoy this and sorry for taking so long on this request I had so many ideas of how to pull off the dates

You trusted Jungwon. It came easily like breathing, only a natural side effect developed effortlessly over 5 years of friendship. Days spent laughing and telling jokes, venting to each other about worries and stresses, studying for hours the night before tests. With someone as generous, and lovable as him it was easy to trust him with your life. He has also used this to his advantage, convincing you to do questionable things with a flash of his dimples. Like now, allowing him to lead you down the streets of Seoul while blindfolded. Completely at his mercy.

"Are we close? My feet are starting to hurt. We've been walking for hours." You whined as Jungwon pulled you around another corner. You've lost your sense of direction 4 turns ago, and he seemed to keep on going. "Why couldn't your manager just drive us the whole way? You had to have him stop super far from wherever you're taking me?" Jungwon just let out a laugh and gently squeezed your wrist. . His hand surrounding your wrist was comforting and grounding, a reminder that you were safe with him.

"We're almost there I promise. And if I would've done that it wouldn't have been a surprise now would it." You humphed knowing that Jungwon was stubborn when it came to things like this.

"You always do this. It's not fair, your ideas are always so much fancier than mine." Jungwon let out another laugh, and you didn't have to see him to know his expression. Eyes probably scrunched up, his dimples greeting the world as he laughed at my pain.

"It's not my fault that I love you so much. Plus I always want to do something special with you." Confusion flooded your mind while your heart skipped multiple beats at his words.

In the same sense of truth, feelings were natural too. Flowering in your chest with every sweet action he did, never wanting a reward for it just doing them because that's the kind of person he is. Packing extra food in his lunch box knowing your tendency to forget your own. Cupping your cheeks while he wiped away your tears, listening to you rant about your sorrows or broken hearts. Pulling you close to his chest afterwards, massaging the back of your head knowing how bad your headaches get after crying. Arms wrapped securely around you as he whispered calming words into your ear, a sense of security and comfort blanketing you while listening to his heart beat. Every gentle, caring and loving action made the flowers grow.

When Jungwon told you about his plan to audition for Be-Lift one part of you was selfish. You wanted him to stay, turn down the biggest opportunity of his lifetime, continue being only your Jungwon. That part was tiny however; and you squashed down those bitter feelings. You were absolutely ecstatic for him, having been the one to even push him towards the auditions. Stayed up hours at night to watch him practice, seeing his confidence grow tremendously the weeks leading to that fateful day.

When he got accepted you both celebrated the great news. His parents held a dinner in his honor, and his family sat around the table, congratulating him and his accomplishment. At first you were happy for him, overflowing with joy that your best friend had passed the biggest audition of his life. But as the day got closer you had to hide your heart break, smiling despite the tears you shed at night. Knowing that he was going to leave you soon.

The night before he left for I-Land was the hardest one, cuddling into his side while you laid in his bed. The last time in a while you would be in his room like this, only the two of you and the quiet of the night. You didn't sleep the whole night, only savoring the feeling of Jungwon holding you tightly, the last night of him being yours. Your best friend. Your first love.

Your Jungwon.

For the first time in 5 years you were apart for longer than a couple weeks. During this time the flowers started to wilt. You were grateful, ecstatic. Of course you missed Jungwon terribly, tuning in every Friday to support him. Eyes watering every time you watched him perform , pride prevailing over any negative emotions you could have as he confidently took the stage. When it was revealed he had made the debut team you had wailed, preening at your best friend's accomplishment knowing that his hard work paid off.

When Jungwon came home to visit your feelings were gone. You didn't feel the twisting in your chest when you hugged him, tucking your face into the crook of his neck as you both cried. Pulling away to look him in the face your heart didn't flutter at his smile, you only relished in the feeling that your best friend was back.

You thought your feelings had wilted into piles of dust and blown away. Not having seen him for months of course that'd be normal. You had thought your feelings were gone for good when you started to see him more frequently and they still hadn't returned.

You were wrong.

"Are you okay bugs?" Snapping out of your daze you realized that Jungwon was standing directly in front of you, one hand cupping your face and concern in his eyes. You nodded your head, cursing yourself for being getting so distracted.

"I'm fine bunny." His eyes scanned your face once before he leaned back, letting his hand linger.

"You know I just worry about you sometimes." Dropping his hand to his side he turned dramatically, switching the topic and gesturing at the box office in front of us. His manager was there waiting for us, underneath the gigantic sign for the zoo. "But I knew that you missed the zoo since we haven't gone in a long time. So I actually convinced management to rent it out for us for 2 hours."

Practically leaping into his arms you wrapped your arms around his neck, a huge smile spreading across your face. "Thank you thank you thank you!" Pulling away you saw his facial expression mimicking yours, dimples proudly on display and bunny teeth prominent.

"Come on, let's go." You giggled as you grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the gate. After getting your wrist bands - just for the experience - you downloaded the digital map and headed into the zoo ecstatic for your day with Jungwon.

♤♠︎♤

"Come on bugs, just look at the snake." You shook your head vehemently, trying to yank your hand free. His fingers only tightened around you wrist as he attempted to convince you to look at the giant snake in the glass enclosure merely 3 feet away from where you stood.

"Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Jungwon." You whined out his name, refusing his outrageous request.

Snakes were definitely a no for you. Especially a boa constrictor that can grow up to 13 ft long. The one they held in the exhibit was only 5 ft, but it could always become bigger. What would even need to get that big? Any animal that needs to be 5+ ft is a menace to society, and only here for evil. You'd already catered to Jungwon enough in this godforsaken reptile and amphibian section. The frogs were cute, absolutely adorable with their big glassy eyes, hanging on to the glass. Lizards weren't a big deal either, some of them over 3 ft long, lazing about their enclosure, enjoying the surprisingly warm Seoul day.

"Isn't this supposed to be a special day for me? Why would you make me see a stupid snake? They don't even have arms, that's so weird and creepy." Jungwon let out a laugh before pulling you over to him, a squeal leaving your lips as your back met his chest, and his arms wrapped around you. At the slightest display of affection you stopped fighting him, feeling the vines squeezing around your heart painfully, before he started to walk forward and you remembered where you were. Fighting for your life.

You tried to plant your feet in the ground to prevent Jungwon from forcing you to see the snake, but he only lifted your feet from the ground as you cursed the stupid Be:Lift gyms. His manager stared in amusement from the corner, his phone out to record the two of you and undoubtably show it to the rest of the members.

Another loud squeal left your mouth as Jungwon brought you right in front of the glass enclosure, the snake was sitting in the corner but slowly started moving towards the two of you, as if you had fascinated it. You turned your head, placing it in the crook of Jungwon's neck as you squeezed your eyes tight. Ignoring the fear that coursed through your body knowing that the snake was only separated by a thin layer of plexiglass.

"Bugs just look." You only shook your head, "I promise the snake won't hurt you as long as I'm here okay? You know I'll always protect you." Jungwon's soft voice cut through the fear, and you sighed knowing that you were falling into another one of his traps. You turned your head while taking a deep breath before opening your eyes, being met with the face of the snake.

With Jungwon's constant flow of reassurance in your ear you took a good look at the snake. The snake was against the glass, falling back down before slithering up again. Its eyes were wide open and almost looked like doe eyes, black and glassy as it stared at you. The scales were a pretty pastel yellow, mixed with white, resembling a banana cow. You were so distracted admiring the snake that you both jumped when his manager suggested you should get along, and walk further into the park. You felt your heart clench painfully as Jungwon stepped away from you, a blush running up his neck and spreading over his cheeks as he quickly walked to the next exhibit not bothering to wait for you.

♤♠︎♤

"I think this is the best friend date we've ever had." Jungwon spoke happily as you two walked out of the zoo gift shop, a red fox panda stuffed animal tucked safely in your arms. His treat since he refused to let you pull out your wallet and purchase it for yourself. You chose to ignore the flutter of your heart and rush of heat at the thought of this being a true date, your mind decidedly ignoring the word 'friend'. Your cheeks ached as you smiled. They've started to hurt after the amount of time spent joking and laughing while visiting the animals.

"It was. I really appreciated it. I've missed you, it's been so long since we've been able to hang out like this." Jungwon nodded in agreement, an uncharacteristically shy smile spreading across your face.

"Come on. The nights still not over, I have one more surprise for you." Jungwon tossed his arm over your shoulder as he led you to the car, excitement and surprise as you thought about what he could potentially still have planned.

Being ever the gentleman he opened the door for you, waiting until you were safely inside to close it and join you. His manager turned on the radio as he drove you two to the next destination.

"Don't tell me we're going to have to walk again? My feet are still dying from the zoo." Jungwon let out a laugh as he grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it as he intertwined your fingers.

"We won't have to walk too much I promise. Just sit back and relax, it shouldn't take too long to get there." You nodded your head before quickly looking out of the window, no longer able to ignore it.

The vines grew in your chest, clenching painfully around your heart, writhing and squeezing like a boa constrictor trying to capture its prey, crawling up your throat making you resist the urge to gag. Lungs filling with petals that swirled and fluttered around with every breath until there were too many, leaving no room to move around, just clumping together as breathes became sickly. Until you could no longer resist the urge to cough.

The sound of you hacking and gagging, the sight of a worried Jungwon when the first petal comes out. Dark violet petals fluttering out with every spasm of your lungs, some full flowers with stems still attacked, coated with a thin layer of maroon liquid, staining the pretty petals and tinging your pink sweater with spots of red, the bitter taste of the flowers mixing with copper. Your throat sore as the taste of bile rose alongside the rest of the petals, finally emptying your lungs. Filling the car until there was no room to hide from it, hide from your feelings. Hide from the predicament that you were in, feelings for you best friend, the rookie idol.

How could you be so stupid to believe that you could hide it? You were always so easily exposed to Jungwon. He knew you better than you knew yourself. What if he already knew and was just biding his time before he left you, the thought of your feelings disgusting him, being too much for him? He could surely find another best friend, one who wouldn't fall for him.

But could that ever happen? Someone not falling for him. It's easy to fall for his eyes, chocolate eyes that always saw right through you. That knew when you weren't feeling good and were trying to hide it. Dark unruly hair, never easily tamed but was so silky when you ran your fingers through it. Despite being called bunny he practically purred whenever you did it, causing your face to burn at the feelings that always resurfaced. Caring nature that assured he'd become the leader of his group, always wanting to care for everyone around him and make sure that they were happy.

You don't think it'd ever be possible for someone to not fall for him.

"Are you okay bugs?" You blinked realizing that the car door was open, Jungwon standing in front of you with the same concerned look that made you feel ashamed, and yet warmed.

Glancing around you realized you had imagined the coughing fit, drowning in the sea of your own emotions and being buried under a mountain of petals. It was all in your imagination, hanahaki didn't exist. How could it? If it existed you would surely be dead.

Shaking your head you waved off the question, unbuckling your seatbelt and quickly hoping out of the van.

"Of course. I'm perfectly fine, just feeling a little tired I guess. Must've gotten lost in my thoughts. Anyway, where are we?" Jungwon raised a brow at your rambling, knowing you only did it when you were nervous before choosing to ignore it and grabbing your hand again. You hoped he couldn't feel how sweaty your palms were, nerves taking over you at the realization your feelings and thoughts had run away from you again.

"Well I wanted to do something really special for you," You shook your head before cutting Jungwon off.

"The zoo was perfect Jungwon, you don't have to do anything else. Today was perfect already." Jungwon shushed you as he led you into the building, his manager staying behind. Leading you to the elevators he pressed a button before getting on, waiting for the doors to close behind the both of you before he continued to speak.

"You've supported me throughout this whole journey. Pushing me to audition when I was too nervous, and didn't think that I would make it. When I got accepted into I-Land you supported me even when I was leaving you in the middle of the school year, texted me every night to let me know that you were watching and were always rooting for me. Knowing how proud I was making you when the thought of me debuting wasn't official helped me work harder, and continue to push myself," He got cut off as the elevator dinged, signaling that you were at your floor. Jungwon pulled you off the elevator towards a set of stairs that led to a door labeled roof. Jungwon turned towards you, his face deathly serious causing you to get a lot nervous at the sudden sober move.

"Before we go out there I just wanted to tell you that I am grateful that you are in my life. I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you, constantly supporting me throughout everything. You are what has pushed me this far bugs, and I love you. You're my best friend and I owe you so much for constantly being there." You smiled, ignoring the pain in your chest. Of course he'd only think of you as his best friend, there's no way he'd see you as anything else.

"Of course Jungwon. You can't put it all on me, you worked hard to get to where you are. I'm proud of you because you constantly push yourself, not because you've been successful. You'll always be my Jungwon even if you wouldn't debuted with Enhypen, and I would've always been proud of you." Red dusted over Jungwon's cheeks as he smiled shyly, before opening the roof door and pushing you in front of him.

You were left speechless at the sight in front of you. Blankets laid out over the ground, picnic baskets placed in the middle to prevent the wind from blowing them away. Pastel pink flowers spread out being blown lightly by the wind but not leaving the roof. Fairy lights spread out emitting a soft golden glow barely recognizable under the setting sun. Clouds flitting over the pink, and orange sky. Adding on to the beautiful aesthetic of the set up.

What truly had your attention was the rest of his members standing around the blankets, signs being held out at arm's length. Their various expressions showed excitement, minus Niki who tried to look emotionally detached from the situation but was bouncing on his toes, practically jumping.

From tomorrow,

I'll protect you

All Day and Night

Now Lean on Me

Will you go out with me Bugs?

Hot tears pricked at your eyes, a thick lump in your throat growing. All of their expressions morphed into worry, Niki had even stopped bouncing on his toes, Heeseung glanced at Jungwon slight panic evident in his face. A loud sob left your mouth as you turned around and threw yourself onto Jungwon, tossing your arms around his neck. A nervous laugh left his mouth as he slid his around your waist, holding you almost protectively.

Jungwon pulled away from you, bringing his hands to cup your cheeks, attempting to wipe the river of tears away.

"These are happy tears right?" A weak smile spread across your lips, nodding slowly at him. Seeing his smile come back full force, dimples showing happily. Vines loosening around your heart for the first time in months, falling away as they disintegrated. Petals evaporating leaving behind only fresh air in your lungs, breathes flowing freely as you stared at Jungwon. Boba eyes staring back at you, only showing love. His thumbs stopped wiping as he leaned forward barely, glancing at your lips briefly.

"Can I kiss you?" You eagerly hummed, a soft yes being your answer.

Jungwon leaned forward, leaving space for you to back out if you were too overwhelmed. You met his lips, inciting cheers and groans from the members present, seeing their leader kissing his best friend. Your lips moved in sync, one more thing you guys did perfect together. You must admit, the taste of salt from your cheers, along with the dramatic cheers from his members did not make for the best first kiss experience. Especially for a first kiss that you had fantasized and imagined about for years.

Knowing that was only the first of many however, made it all the sweeter.

[jelzorz]

77.

semi-relevant to motherhood

It's not like it was a complete surprise. If Rayla's being honest, then she can admit that Callum'd been acting a bit weird for ages, and she'd wondered, and even hoped, that there would be a ring involved, but when he'd presented it—

Well. Even if she can't say she wasn't that surprised, the rush, the love, the heart-stopping, tear-inducing thrill of Callum getting down on one knee with the ring box in his hand had still made her giddy beyond anything she could describe.

It was wonderful at first. It was everything she'd secretly hoped but never wanted to admit. Rayla'd never been particularly inclined towards the pomp and circumstance of weddings, but for the first week or so, it was ridiculous and exciting, and she understands now why so many people make such a big deal out of it. For the first time, she found herself wanting the flowers, and the fancy invites, and the videographer, and it'd taken the better part of the week to remind herself that those things didn't matter, and that she'd never wanted any of it, and that the Big Wedding had had never been her and Callum's style, but still.

In any case, when her brain settled and her heart could beat steady again, even when she found herself admiring her ring in the sunlight, there was one typical-wedding thing she decided she did want, and of course, Callum had no complaints over it but... she thinks, perhaps, that, now, she does.

"How's it going in there?"

Rayla's first instinct is to snarl, but she tempers herself. The attendant is doing her best, and it's not her fault every dress in this godforsaken store is awful. The one she's climbing into now has so many layers of tulle that it stands up on its own, and Rayla grimaces at her reflection, even when the attendant pulls the dressing room curtain back to attach two bull clips to the back of the dress.

"I think this one looks lovely," she's saying. "Strapless is always a classic, and this particular dress is popular among girls getting married in the spring."

Rayla bites back the sass on her tongue. "We were considering it," she says. "Katolis is nice in the spring but... You know what weddings are like in the spring."

"I sure do," chuckles the attendant. She gathers up the back of the dress in an armful so large Rayla can barely see her behind it and jerks her head towards the viewing platforms. Rayla does her best not stumble over the too-long, too-floofy hem and makes a face at her mother and soon-to-be mother-in-law before either of them can say anything.

"Oh," says Mum. She purses her lips. "You look beautiful, dear," she says after a moment (Rayla's lips pull downwards more), before she follows it up with, "but I don't know that it's really your style."

"It's certainly... nice," adds Mom carefully, "but I think Tia might be right."

"Mm." Rayla scrutinizes her reflection when she turns and hopes the disgust isn't as obvious as she thinks it is. It's an ivory ball gown, embroidered in silver and embellished with sequins, and very much not her style at all. It's too... much. She's always been about practicality, particularly knowing that she has to dance in this thing too, and this? This is not practical at all.

The attendant cocks her head patiently. "Why don't we try something else?" she suggests.

Rayla hesitates because this is the eighth style the attendant's suggested and she's not sure she's got the energy for another.

"Just one more," says the attendant. "I have... one other thing you might like. I'll just be a minute." She smiles and disappears into the recesses of the shop, and Rayla waits until she's well out of earshot before she groans and waddles awkwardly off the platform.

"What if I just skip the dress?"

"I mean, if you want," offers Mum, "but I thought this was the one thing you didn't want to compromise on."

"I was wrong," snaps Rayla, collapsing into the space between them. The tulle smothers them both. "I can find a sundress or something. I'd get married in a sack if it meant not doing this anymore."

"Not that Callum would care but I think a sack might be a little too impertinent." Mom chuckles patiently over the pile of tulle and smooths it down with her hands.

Rayla snorts and sinks further into the couch. "How'd you two do this?"

Mum and Mom exchange simpering glances.

"Patiently," says Mom drily.

"Very patiently," adds Mum.

Rayla bristles. She'd thought finding a wedding dress would be fun. Admittedly, it was, at first, but she's getting tired and frustrated, and she's been through eight dresses now and it's starting to put on her on edge. "I don't even know what I was thinking," she mutters at last. "I just... Wanted to look nice, I guess. It's my wedding day."

"Honey," Mum chuckles. "You're allowed to want that. Callum would think you look beautiful no matter what you wear, but the sentiment is still valid. Maybe... we're just looking in the wrong place. There are other shops."

"If they're anything like this one, hard pass." Rayla shifts uncomfortably and sinks further into the dress. "It's just stupidly hard. All of it. We just want a nice day."

"That is the way of weddings, unfortunately," says Mom. "But it will be nice. If you don't want to do this, you don't have to. You two could elope and it wouldn't matter. It's your day."

"We'd like to be invited," teases Mum, "but in all seriousness, Rayla, it's what you want that matters. And if you don't want this, we're with you. Callum too, we're sure."

"You think so?"

"We know so," says Mom. "Wedding planning is hard, but we're here to help."

They lapse into a pause. Rayla traces the embroidery on the sequined skirt and takes the moment to centre herself--it's only a dress and there's plenty of time--when the attendant returns with one, final dress: an airy, a-line, cap-sleeved gown with lace across the bodice and lined along the hem. There are no layers. There's no train. No strange stylistic choices for the sake of being unique.

It's simple. Elegant. Pretty. Rayla feels hope bubbling in her chest and her mood lifting, just a little.

"One last," says the attendant with a smile.

"Go on, honey," says Mum. "One more. I've got a feeling about this one."

Rayla can't help it. She smiles too. "Yeah. So do I."

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I'm No Good - four

First Day

Warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of sex

[photo of Tallulah and Lina]

don't call me kid, don't call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

Tallulah was the first one awake in the morning, the sunrise just peeking through her blinds as she laid in bed on her side, staring at the wall. She struggled to get back to sleep and tossed and turned, feeling an uncomfortable pit in her stomach that she decided had something to do with it being her first day at La Push Tribal School.

Starting a new school in the second semester of her senior year did not bother her as much as it should have, what concerned her more was that she was walking into a school that never gets new students, let alone mid semester. All eyes were going to be on her, and she was sure that some of them had already conjured up their own preconceived notions of her. Oh the joys of small town gossip, she thought to herself as she climbed out of bed, grabbing her clothes for the day. She told herself that making friends was not a must here, because as soon as she graduates she will be back in Seattle with her old, real friends, living the life that she wants to live. She could let herself be picky, or else she’ll end up with a Josie, who seems trustworthy on the outside, but isn’t in the end. Tallulah rolled her eyes at the thought itself, if that's how she wants to be then so be it.

Tallulah quickly changed into her black tank and oversized flannel shirt, before pulling on her jeans, she tried to tame her hair without ruining her natural waves into a frizzy mess. She wasn't one for much makeup, especially not for school considering the frequent rain on pacific northwest.

Rushing downstairs to the kitchen, the uncomfortable pit curbing her appetite, Tallulah settled on just coffee, as she poured it into her mug she had grabbed from the cupboard, she heard footsteps entering the kitchen. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Lenna out of the corner of her eye, all dolled up as if she were going to Paris Fashion Week.

“I heard about what Josie did.” Lenna stated as she searched through the fridge, “you’ll get used to it.” This made Tallulah scoff audibly, “get used to being thrown under the bus for doing absolutely nothing wrong beside talking to some guy I’ve never even met before yesterday?” she asked sarcastically, turning to face her younger sister, mug in hand. “No, well, yes. It just means she did something she doesn’t want to get in trouble for, so she throws gasoline on someone else's fire to make it seem bigger than the one she started.” She keeps her eye on the tall, raven-haired girl as she closes the door, “She means well Tally.” I bet, she thought to herself. Maybe this is what sisters do, and she's the one that's being unreasonable. To be fair, she's never had to deal with someone snitching right in front of her face to her mother. At least she had the guts to do it at the dinner table.

She watched as Lenna looked over her outfit, making a face that Tallulah couldn’t quite comprehend, “is there something wrong with my outfit?” she asked, eyebrows raised in challenge. Lenna shook her head, “Nope, not at all. Between that, the tattoos and the nicotine addiction, I’d say you’ll fit right in with a few groups at school. I can point them out if you’d like, I heard dad tossed your vape maybe you can snag one today.” Tallulah shook her head before taking a sip of her cooling coffee, “I can make my own friends, and I’m not addicted” she fought the urge to roll her eyes again as their dad walked into the kitchen, clearly dressed for work. “Tally, Lenny, ready for school? Dakota picked up your sister already this morning, something about a project that's not finished yet” the short laugh that came from Lenna did not go unnoticed by Tallulah, but she said nothing, nodding her head at her fathers question. “I have to go to a tribal meeting tonight with Kira, so it’s going to be pizza for dinner, Lenny can pick it up on her way home from work, right Len?” he asked as he filled his to-go mug with coffee, even though he really wasn't asking, “Tal,” he said, looking directly at his eldest daughter, “I know this has been a big change in just a few days, but you’re doing great kid, but let's keep those rules in mind when making friends today,” clearly referring to something she has no clue about. “So, you mean I can’t skip school and sneak Paul through my window while you’re gone?” she joked half heartedly. She had no intention of ever speaking to him today, but seeing the looks on Lenna and their dad's face was probably the best start to her day she was going to get. She finished off her coffee and placed her mug in the sink, grabbing her book bag from the counter and heading to the front door, yelling ‘kidding!’ over her shoulder as she left, while her dad yelled ‘have fun!’ right back at her.

Tallulah drove in silence to the school, following the directions Josie had shown her during their day out, for once wanting to be early. She wanted to scope out all her classrooms beforehand to minimize the amount of interaction she would have to have with anyone in order to just keep her head down and float by as unnoticed as she could.

As she pulled into the small parking lot there were very few students and teachers mulling around. The school itself was small, only two stories, with a few portables that were quite run down. Nothing like her old school of 5000 students, every hallway crowded and parking lot full every day.

Tallulah parked her car and pulled out her phone from her pocket, checking the few messages she had, despite it only being 8 in the morning. One message was from her mom, wishing her well on her first day, telling her she had shipped the rest of her personal belongings that she may want or need and that she loved her. Tallulah rolled her eyes, she loved her so much she didn’t want to deal with her anymore. She checked some more of her messages and replied to those that warranted them only stopping as the incoming call notification lit up her screen.

A photo of Lina, her best friend, and her graced the screen, she quickly hit accept before placing the phone to her ear, breathing out a quickie ‘hello’. The two haven’t been able to have a conversation in days to discuss the tragedy that had unfolded the night her mom caught her sneaking into her bedroom, the dramatic gasp on the other line made her smile, “You picked up!” Lina all but shouted excitedly, before saying to someone else ‘told you she would’, clearly she wasn’t alone. “Of course I did, Li. Just because I've been shipped off to the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean I dropped out of school.” she said looking at the tiny building, that more students were now filing into. “Besides, I always answer your calls.” she stated, which made Lina laugh into the phone, “Right, right. Well I was just calling to see how you were, Kits here too.” she said and she could hear Kit bid a hello in the background, “and we wanted to invite you to this party that's happening at some club in Port Angeles next Friday. We figured it would give you some time to ask your dad if you can come or plan an escape. He can’t keep you from us forever.” she rambled, clearly excited.

She knew what club she was talking about, they had been planning on going once they had all turned 18. As exciting as it sounded, she knew her dad would never go for it, and sneaking out to Port Angeles and back would be next to impossible. “I don’t know about that, Li, but I'll try. I’m sure I could convince him to let you guys come out here if he doesn’t budge?” she asked absentmindedly, hoping she’d take the bait. Tallulah listened as Lina talked to someone away from the speaker before hearing the phone be passed to someone new, she furrowed her brows at the silence before the new speaker breathed out, “Luie.”

Xander.

The only person on planet earth who was allowed to call her ‘Luie’. The nickname started with him and ended with him. She hated the nickname when he had first started using it, he would say it in such a condescending way. Like he was reprimanding a child, but it grew on her as her relationship with him developed. They had never dated, but everyone assumed they were with how touchy-feely they were with each other. But, they both hated commitment, saying that it was the root of all sadness, and they had enough of that in their life already. As if that stopped them from hurting each other anyways. Xander was all of her firsts, first friend, first kiss, first time drinking alcohol with him, first cigarette, first time sneaking out, and first hookup. It's why she always went back to him after a fight, no matter how bad it was, all her good memories are tied to him.

“Hey, Xan” she said softly, “Are you coming to Port Angeles for the party?” he asked in a nonchalant tone, knowing she could never say no to him. “I want to..” she started, “But no promises. My dads a lot stricter compared to my mom.” Tallulah heard him grunt in acknowledgment. He wasn’t going to beg, or plead her to come like Kit or Lina would, he knew he didn’t have to. “Well, let us know, ya?” he stated, voices in the background signaled that they were most likely getting ready to take the train to school, like she would be in normal circumstances. “Oh, and Luie, have a don’t do anything I wouldn’t do on your first day.” she could practically hear the grin that she knew he had before the line went dead, he wasn’t much for formal goodbyes.

Sighing, she shoved her phone in her pocket before exiting her car, grabbing her bag off of the passenger seat and slinging it over her shoulder. She made sure to lock the car before placing her keys in her bag and grabbing her timetable as she walked towards the entrance of the school. She was too busy trying to figure out what classroom she needed to head to first that she wasn’t paying any attention to any of her surroundings. Hence why she walked head on into someone, dropping the white sheet of paper in the process. Hot hands steadying her by the arms. It felt as if she had walked straight into a brick wall, she would’ve laughed it off if it wasn’t the root of all her problems so far in La Push.

“Are you stalking me?” she asked the older man, everywhere she went, there he was. Paul shook his head with a chuckle, causing the teen to glare up at him. “Well aren’t you a little too old to be hanging around a high school?” she questioned, arms crossing over her body as the heat from his hands had made her realize just how cold it was outside once they were off of her. “Relax, I was just dropping someone off.” he stated, his voice was deeper than it was the day before, like he had just woken up. She averted her eyes from him as she could feel the blush heat to her face at how silly she must have sounded. Of course that's why he's here. She hadn’t realized he had picked up her schedule for her until he read out a name from it, “First period: Miss. Young.You’ll like her, everyone does.” he said while handing her back the slip. She nodded her head, “right, well i should go find her class then.” she mumbled as she took a step back from him, he responded by giving her the directions to the class, which made her want to question how he knew that but Tallulah wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer, so instead, she thanked him and walked away heading towards the front doors, each step closer she filled more and more with dread, wanting to turn around and get in her car and drive away as far as she could.

She turned back to where she had left Paul standing to see him still there, only now he was talking on the phone. His whole demeanor had changed, he looked rigid and frustrated. Before she turned to completely walk through the doors, he caught her eye and gave her a small smile, the feeling of dread dissipating in that moment as she entered her new school.

[herstroywritten]

Darn Pigtails

Hello! I genuinely have no excuse for this monstrosity of a piece that I agonized over for the past few days instead of focusing on my uni work. I’ve spent the last month obsessing over Fate and Rivusa (the latter has been a life long obsession and Fate has only added fuel to the fire, with just one scene...). Yes, I am a part of that clown circus and honestly, I’m proud. I’ve always been a writer, but never posted anything but I figure here goes nothing. I was very inspired by some very talented writers in this tiny little club that’s been created on here for this ship (you all know them by now...). I couldn’t resist adding my own (not so) little addition to the collection. I don’t currently have an account on ao3 or anything, so this is just what’s happening. Be warned, it’s long and maybe excessive (8k words, oops). Other than that, enjoy and feel free to let me know your thoughts!

It started with pigtails.

He'd seen Dowling parading her around the square as students fought tooth and nail to kill the fake dummies that seemed to embody their realistic counterparts more than they should have. She's had a raincoat on at the time, not that he would have cared what she was wearing because… how could he notice anything but the pigtails? Fucking pigtails! Long enough to reach her waist, dark enough to have him thinking that the darkest of night skies must have been modeled after that same color, and pin-straight from root to tip. She walked by, lavender sweater and loose jeans, and that's the first thing he noticed. Her pigtails. He felt his tongue move, the tip pressed against the top of his mouth, ready to make a crude comment about how he'd love to tug on those pigtails in more than one scenario because honestly, was he not supposed to with the way that they swung about perfectly matching the sway of her hips? His eyes lit up as he just about let the words tumble out, and then she let her eyes lift to meet his as she made her way through the specialists' training grounds. Brown eyes lingered over his green ones for longer than any normal interaction accounts for, before dropping downward to the rest of his form. His mouth quirked into a smirk.

 "Oh," he thought. "So this is how we're going to play this game."

 Never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a game or a challenge. And it just so happened that this particular game, the cat and mouse chase, was one of his favorites. So he figured, if she could stare at him like that, it would only be rude not to return the favor. He turned around, let his eyes fully graze over her whole figure the way he'd been too distracted to do before, and that's when he noted the stick she held. Whatever dumb comment he'd been so eager to make about her pigtails was quickly replaced by, "You like holding that big stick?"

 He'd hoped for a reaction. And boy did he get one, a swift and lithe little trick she'd been hiding, seemingly waiting for the chance to pull it out. And even though he'd been training his whole life to defend himself, he just about let her jab his left eye out because he was so very much intrigued by the way her hair swayed to meet her movements and her brown eyes that bore into him with rage. Yeah, this was going to be all kinds of fun.

 "I think I just threw up," she said, her face twisting into clear disdain. But her eyes sparkled and he thought maybe her hair is not the only thing the night sky was modeled after. He'd seen her before, somewhere in the background perhaps. Class? No. If she were a specialist and in his classes, there was no way in hell he wouldn't remember her. The cafeteria? Probably, there was only one place to get food in this godforsaken place and he doubted she hadn't made her way down there at least once. The Alfea hallways? Again, not unlikely. And that's when it clicked into place. She was one of the too many to remember (in his opinion) roommates of Sky's new obsession- Bloom. The four, sometimes five, of them were always together, huddled up beside one another in the cafeteria benches or on the way to classes. Honestly, now that he thought about it, was there ever a time when he'd seen those girls- besides Stella- alone? He definitely had never seen her alone. "Well, better take advantage of the chance," he thought. So, he dug into her, asked about her little run around the training grounds with the headmistress. He wanted to see how far he could push her rage, how willing she was to give him a good show. Between comments about dancing and fairies versus specialists, her eyes flashed purple and he soon realized that he'd bit off more than he could chew. As if her natural brown irises weren't alluring enough, the way they looked when he powers took over held a whole other sense of siren's lure within them. It took him a second to realize what was happening, that she was reading him. And he would have let her continue too, if it meant that he could hold her attention just a little while longer and feel whatever kind of electricity was rippling between the two of them for a few more minutes. Too bad she chose that moment to let him know exactly what she was doing, and exactly how he felt.

 "You really hate being here, don't you?"

 In this school, yes. Here, right now, with her eyes all over him and his hands twitching to edge upwards and brush his hands against those darn pigtails? No. No, he would have loved to stay right here just a little longer. But he was more scared of whatever hell she'd dig up from within him, so instead he told her to stay the fuck out of his head. He caught a glimpse of her prideful smirk, taunting him about this lost battle and her evident win, right before he whirled around and walked his way back to wherever his legs would lead him.

 Passing by the guy he'd seen constantly following her around like a lost puppy dog, the one he assumed was her boyfriend, he murmured under his breath something along the lines of "Good luck with that one."

 And then he was gone. But not before he remembered that he hadn't caught her name. No matter. As previously mentioned, never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a challenge. She'd won this battle, but he was going to win the war.

_______________________________________________________________

The next time he found himself in her company only, the world had flipped on its axis.

Dowling and Silva were gone and Harvey had turned into a muted professor, almost never seen anywhere except in the greenhouse when he had classes to run. The new headmistress, Rosalind, ruled with a grip tougher than steel. Andreas was  the male version of her, so not any better. Fairies were being forced into combat positions, whether they liked it or not, and upperclassmen specialists were forced into being their mentors, whether they liked it or not. Classes were stricter. You miss one lesson, you make up two class times in personal training with either Andreas or Rosalind herself. At first, everyone'd thought that was a stupid rule. Who doesn’t want a one-on-one with the professors? It took just one dumb third-year specialist missing his first lesson on the first day of the second term for everyone to realize that these training sessions were practically abuse covered with a prettier name.

But the thing that had changed the most, the thing that he couldn't even begin to name, was whatever the hell was happening to his mind. He no longer knew where his day started and where it ended. He knew he must have gotten up every morning and  gone to classes and eaten to sustain his body for the brutal training session that followed and delt with whatever else needed dealing with. And yet, he remembered none of it. None of it except the moments spent chasing Sky around (which inevitably meant chasing the Winx suite around), the moments spent training his new fairy mentee- Musa, and the nightly runs to Dowling's- no, Rosalind's- office where he involuntarily spilled every little detail about his day. His mind had become an utter blur, his thoughts were no longer his own. He knew somewhere in his mind that he needed to stop, had tried endlessly to stop, but the more he held back from Rosalind's spell, the faster his words seem to come out. So, he'd stopped trying to fight it.

It was to his horror when he had been assigned Musa for training. He wasn't sure what he had expected. Of course they were going to pair him with a Winx suitemate, he just had expected it to be Bloom. Bloom was who they wanted details on after all. Even Stella would have made more sense, what with her mother being so very controlling. But no. Bloom went to Sky, Stella to some third year specialist, and he got Musa. If guilt wasn't already shredding him to pieces, it would be now.

He tried to console himself with the fact that he was better prepared to handle her this time. He'd spent enough time with Sky and the girls to have picked up the little details about her. She constantly listened to music to block out the world, she liked wearing shorts and miniskirts (a fact he quite enjoyed), she had an unhealthy obsession with bomber jackets (a fact he could do without when she was also wearing lacy silks under those same jackets), she liked pancakes for breakfast (but only when they were drenched with maple syrup), and the list goes on. His personal favorite fact, however, was that her hair was always immaculate and never the same two days in a row.

The point was, he could do this. All he had to do was train her. No talking necessary. She sure as hell was not about to strike up conversation with him if he didn't bother her. So, he'd keep his mouth shut and just teach her what he needed to teach her. Then he'd leave. That way, when his legs would inevitably carry him to Rosalind at midnight on the dot, he'd have nothing to give her but a good rundown of what moves they had practiced.

How wrong he had been.

He had clearly overestimated his ability to not falter in front of her, because the second she walked into the mat, he knew he'd have to say something.

This time, her hair was in tightly wound braids. Two of them, wrapping vertically down her scalp like fine rope. This time, he wants to undo her hair, to tug the black elastic ties out of place and run his fingers through each threaded piece until the strands lay about her shoulders in waves. He'd like to know what she looks like with her hair down, like fully down.

As if the hair wasn’t enough, she was also dressed in the tight female version of the specialist gear. It's all green woven material that crosses her chest, black mesh that lines her sides, and tight leggings that bring an ungodly amount of attention to her ass.

So, he slips up. "If I knew this is what you'd look like in a uniform-" he starts, but never finishes.

"Don't you dare finish that thought," she warns, voice dripping with a no-nonsense attitude.

"What's gotten into you?"

"It has not been my day. Hell, it has not been my week."

"It hasn't been anyone's week," he feels the need to remind her. And when she looks at him with those eyes, he wonders if she can read right through him without having to use her magic.

"Yeah, well. Let's just say I'm having a particularly more-so-than-average-shit day. So I'd appreciate it if you kept the comments to yourself." She's frustrated, he can see it. She's giving him the perfect out of a bad situation. She's begging him not to talk to her and that's exactly what he needs but goddamn it, he can't back away from a challenge even when his mind is in literal hell.

"What, can't handle me?" She scoffs at that.

"I can handle you just fine. I've been handling other's comments and thoughts since my powers started showing up. That's not the problem.

"What is the problem then?" He's digging, searching for something. For what, he's not sure. She's just finished lacing up her boots. She looks at him then, stares him down.

"The problem is I don’t want to handle you right now, Riven." And with that, she shoves past him to the center of the mat. But he's not done yet.

"You sure about that? I've never met a girl who doesn’t want to handle me before…" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she chuckles a little at his antics.

"Yeah, no. But even if I did want to, you'd really have to do better than that.

"What, the line wasn't up to your standards?"

"Was it up to yours?"

"Not my best, I'll admit. But I make do. And you can't tell me Harvey Jr. has done any better." Rage flushes through her features at that particular comment. He watches as her cheeks flush bright red and as the flush slowly spreads to her neck and below the rounded collar of her uniform, slowly cursing whoever created the damn thing for not making it a V-neck. 

"Ooh, a reaction! Go on, then. Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

"None of your fucking business."

"It never is, and yet I'd love to know."

"Seriously, Riven. Let's just not talk." She wound up, ready to burst. Her hands are balled into fists by her side and her back is arched towards him in anger. She's a spring ready to jump, and he wants to see how high she can reach.

He goes for the typical line, "Trouble in paradise, then?"

Turns out she can jump pretty damn high, something he expected. What he didn't expect was for her to jump him. She pushes him with so much force that he barely catches himself before he falls. Tears stream down her face as she punches at his chest (hopelessly, he notes… he's got a lot to teach her). He lets her continue the onslaught on his chest, is impressed by her force and strength and persistence even if the form is all wrong. When she finally stops, the tears do too. All that's left are her hiccups and his eyes following her every movement. He watches her dry her eyes vigorously, hears her curse him and the school and herself… and Sam? He's not sure what's happening right now, not sure why his arms suddenly want to wind around her frame and pull her in, or why his heart clenches at the sight of her tears. He chooses to ignore it all.

They continue the rest of the training session in silence, with him only speaking to direct her movements and point out a thing or two about her form. Later that night, after running through his nightly routine with Rosalind, he finds out from Sky that Bloom was especially distressed today because Musa was especially distressed today because Musa and Sam had decided to call it quits. Riven feels light-headed at that news,  and he's still not exactly sure why his body is so adamant about reacting to news involving her.

He rolls into bed, thinking bitterly to himself that he won today. He won this battle. So why does it feel like he lost it?

______________________________________________________________

They continue their training sessions in silence for a while, until eventually a banter sparks between the two of them. He's not quite sure how it happens, just as he's not quite sure how anything happens anymore. He assumes he probably made some joke about how good her legs looked in those damn tights or about how she desperately needed help with her fighting stance. Maybe he just wore her down with his constant questions. He doesn't really care, to be honest. He knows he should care, in the same way that he knows he should actually avoid talking to her instead of showing up every day eager to see her. He just can’t bring himself to do it, not when she shows up in that uniform every day or when she looks at him with so much pride when she finally nails a move they've been working on for so long, and definitely not when she starts to initiate the playful conversations with the same smirk that he would maybe like to kiss off her face. There's so many things he should do at the end of the day, but he does none of them. He just lets whatever happens happen, and it kind of works out for a bit. They tease each other, teeter-tottering somewhere between playful and full on flirting. They fight in close combat corners, sometimes ending up on top of each other. Those days are a personal favorite of Riven's, especially when she's on top of him and he can feel her thighs straining against his waist as she pins his arms above his head. (He may have taught her that one move just for this moment. He felt it was a shame to not put those dance-trained legs of hers to use.)

The perfectly odd tightrope they walk snaps on a Wednesday afternoon, after they've finished training and are walking toward the benches that hold their water bottles. He takes a swing of his water, and then looks up from his seat to see her standing up and chugging her own bottle. A loose droplet slips past her lips and down her uniform's tank top. He follows it with his eyes, not even bothering to hide the very obvious motion even as she finishes her drink, looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and then chuckles at him while rolling her eyes.

"You could be a little less obvious, you know." She calls him out casually. He smirks at the comment before dragging his eyes back up to her brown orbs.

" Subtle isn't really my forte. Besides what fun would it be if you didn't know I was staring at you?"

She rolls her eyes, but her smile gives her away. "You're gonna give some poor girl a heart attack one day if you look at her like that." It's a teasing remark, but he feels his adrenaline hike up at her comment. The game is back on.

"Some poor girl, huh?" He leans into her on the bench, invades her personal space. She blushes, looks directly ahead, and he thinks he's winning another one of the many secret battles they seem to find themselves fighting. Then, she turns to him and looks him dead in the eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" He didn't expect that. Again, he knows he should just leave or say no. Anything to avoid a conversation that could lead to more than just a flirting banter, anything to avoid something that Rosalind may actually be interested in. But she's looking up at him with wide eyes and he's convinced he's become weak and that she's won this battle because he can't bring himself to say no.

"Uh… sure?"

She looks around nervously, as if deciding whether to ask what's on her mind or not. Finally, she leans close to him and asks in a slow and quiet voice, "Where do you sneak off to every night at midnight?" He pulls back from her faster than he thought he would ever be able to pull away from her, blinking down at her now shocked face.

"How-"

"How do I know? You have a roommate, Riven. He hears you leave every night and says nothing about it, but he's been worried about you. He says you've been acting different… For what it's worth, I think he's right. Especially when we're not in training sessions, you're completely out of it. I know this has been a rough mon-"

This is it. She's dug deep enough that she has hit rock bottom, she's found the dead-end at the bottom of his soul. He has to let this banter go now. He can't have her asking questions he'll then have to report back to Rosalind.

"You know nothing." He words are curt and sharp. She flinches at their edge, but doesn’t back down. It's one of his favorite things about her, her persistence.

"You can talk to me if something is wrong, you know? Or to Sky or the girls… you can talk to any of us…" He watches as her eyebrows furrow, traces the line they form down her nose to her lips and then back to her eyes. And that's when he notices that her eyes have changed color to purple. He grabbed her hand quickly and firmly, enough to break her concentration but not enough to hurt her (God, even in his rage, it would never be enough to hurt her).

"I've told you not to do that. Not to use your damn mind powers on me." His voice is strained, laced with anger and something resembling fear. 

"I'm trying-"

"I don't care what you're trying. You shouldn’t be in there. You shouldn't be in my brain. There's nothing in there worth your time or energy and there never will be."

And with that he spins on his heel and marches into the forest behind the training grounds. He doesn’t turn around, but if he did, he would have seen Sky moving out of the shadows and heading toward Musa.

"Did you do it?"

It takes her a second to interpret his question. She still staring into the distance as Riven's figure fades out of view, her eyes finally returning to their normal brown color. She continues to stare at the dot in the distance, unwilling to look away as if she's daring him to turn around and spare her one last glance. He doesn't.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She finally turns to Sky. "He's completely blocked from my powers. Dowling was right, he's under some sort of mind control."

______________________________________________________________

It’s 2AM by the time Riven finally makes his way to the room he shares with Sky. He's once again not really sure where his day went or what he did after he flipped on Musa and marched his way into the woods after their little spat. He remembers anger, a lot of anger. He's angry at her for trying to dig into his brain when they had already established that he hated it. He was angry at Dowling for dying (at least, he assumes she's dead because where else would she be?) and leaving the school to the psychopath that is Rosalind. He's angry at Rosalind for manipulating him, controlling his mind. He's angry at Beatrix for getting him into this stupid mess. But mostly, he's angry with himself for letting it all happened, for somehow always making the wrong move at the wrong time, for managing to screw up his own life in such a grand manner that it constitutes an award (truly, he's outdone himself this time). He's mad at himself for not being able to control his own mind, for letting Rosalind take up residence in his brain and being able to do nothing about it. He's even angry at himself for not just standing there and letting Musa read his emotions, because maybe if she did then she'd know the hell he was in. His brain was constantly pulling in all different directions, trying desperately to get away from the constraints of Rosalind's spell. Headaches are nonending and thoughts leave as soon as they come. It's like there's two people waging war within him, but one of them brought swords to a gunfight and is losing horribly. But it’s a war he feels he should fight on his own, and maybe that's why he didn't let her read him. As much as he hates to admit it, the mind control and guilt was breaking him but he could handle that. What he couldn't handle, however, was getting her involved in this stupid mess by mistake, which would inevitably lead to Rosalind getting ahold of her as well. God knows there's only so much room left in hell or sins, and he'd be damned if he hadn't already filled all the available spots.

He was glad for the day to finally be over, glad to be heading to bed (not sleep though, sleep did not exist when his mind was in so much pain all the fucking time). It seemed the world had other plans for him, however, because upon opening the door to his dorm, he was met with a sight that he both dreaded and wanted to burn into his memory for the rest of however long he had to live before Rosalind finally took pity on him and bent his brain to death. 

Perched on his bed, leaning forward ever so slightly, elbows meeting her knees, and head bend toward the floor was Musa. From his angle, he could only see her side profile, but apparently that's all his body needed to be automatically sent into a frenzy. The first thing he notices was, not to his surprise, the hair. She'd replaced her training braids with buns, big ones that hang precariously form her head as tendrils of her dark hair fell in loose waves and framed her face. He again found himself wondering what she would look like with all of her hair fully down. His fingers itched to burrow into those carefully constructed space buns and pull their pins out of place, just to see if she'd look half as beautiful with her hair down as she did with her hair up.

He stood like that for a while, taking her in and letting her continue to stare at the dark wooden floors with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He's not sure when, but eventually she turned toward the door, eyebrows first shooting up when she noticed him staring at her, and then falling back into place as she shot him a shy mile from across the room.

"Hey," came her greeting in a small voice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question was harsh, but he knew himself well to know that if he even let just one layer of himself down with her, he may as well just lay down all his defenses. She had a way of getting him to speak and break down and he wasn't about to let himself get her mixed up in whatever evil plan he'd been helping construct against his will.

Too bad for him, because it seemed Musa had been expecting a fight and was ready to fire back his quips with some of her own. She simply rolled her eyes and casually stated, "Well, then, straight to it, are we?"

"If you're looking for Sky or Bloom, they're probably in a dark hallway somewhere snogging each other half to death," he answered. She grimaced at the image.

"Yeah, no. I'm not here for Bloom or Sky."

"Then you're not here for anyone." She gave him a pointed look at that phrase. He wisely chose to ignore it and instead made his way to the couch in the middle of the room, throwing his jacket somewhere on it.

"What, that's all you have today? I'm standing on your bed, we're alone in your bedroom, I'm in a miniskirt… and you're not going to make a comment about showing me a good time? You're losing your touch, Riv." She was teasing him, he could tell by the light tone of her voice. Maybe she liked to see his reactions the way he so enjoyed watching her react to his own snarky comments. Maybe she saw enough into his brain earlier to have dug up some of his fantasies. Damn her, he'd been avoiding looking anywhere but her face since he walked in, and now here she was basically challenging him to do more. Damn him and his inability to back down from a game he was so clearly not apt to win at the moment. He turned around and finally got a good look at her. She was indeed in a miniskirt, under which she had tucked a lacy white top that was very clearly meant to showcase the black bra she wore underneath the pitiful excuse of a shirt. Her signature red bomber jacket hung from her shoulders and the black boots she had on were laced all the way up to her kneecaps.

This must be it, he thought. This must be his punishment for spilling his guts to Rosalind every night. Or maybe, his guilt and the pain throbbing through his veins had finally won out and he was finally cracking under all that pressure. That's fine. He wasn't even surprised this is what his brain chose to tease him with at the brink of destruction. He figured she'd be the one to shatter him, it was only a matter of time.

"Hello? Are you even listening to me?" Her voice broke him out of his trance. Ok, maybe he wasn't imagining her.

He sighed, defeated and broken and just tired. "Why are you here, Musa?"

It’s a staring match now. He watches as her eyes soften and the sarcasm leaves her features.

"I couldn’t read you earlier today. In the training grounds-" No. Anything but this conversation.

"Maybe you should consider working on those powers of yours then. Seems to me like you're the one losing your touch."

"I'm serious, Riven-"

"I am too."

"Jesus, Riven, let me just finish!" Anger sparked in her features. "You're loud, Riven." He scoffed at that. "Your emotions, I mean. They're usually loud… but they're also lively and harmonious, in a weird way that I can't seem to figure out. Lately, however, they've been quiet… as if they don't exist at all. And at first I thought it was me, I thought I was getting better at controlling my powers. But when I tried to read you today, I felt nothing…" There is was, she had figured it out, and now she looked at him as if he was a science experiment she couldn’t quite figure out.

"… Maybe my hearts just finally turned to stone." He tried for a joke. She did not find it amusing.

"I know, Riven." He's not sure what that was supposed to mean. What did she know? That he was a horrible person? That he'd snitched on her and all their friends (were they his friends?) to the queen of evil? Or worse, that his body lit up whenever she was around?

"Cryptic, but ok. I guess between that line and the fact that you somehow snuck into my room, you could make the whole 'good girl turned bad, mysterious girl' vibe work. Honored I'm the first you're trying it out on. If you'd like to take it a step further, the bed's right behind you." She may have the upper hand in this game, but he's still a stubborn ass.

"Seriously, Riven. I'm not kidding." She took a step toward him. Wrong move, angel.

"I know you're not. That shirt doesn't exactly scream 'kidding'. Tell me, did you just choose the first thing you found in your closet to put on?" He took a step forward this time, one long stride before they stood chest to chest and he hooked his finger under her chin. "Or is that shirt part of this whole 'mystery girl' scheme? Because, I won't lie, it's working." He sees her shiver at his words and doesn't bother to hide the smirk that graces his face. Finally, things were getting interesting. "Wonder if it looks half as good on my bedroom floor…" He noticed her eyes flicker downward, to is lips, but they moved back up just as quickly. He stared right back at her, watching as she struggled to make up her mind about where to slap him for that last comment. He didn't have to wait too long for a response.

"I'm sure you do." Her words came as a whisper, and the smirk that followed was just as alluring. He barely had time to process the meaning behind it all, before she crashed her body onto him and her lips found his. Her hands gripped into the sides of his t-shirt, keeping him to her with such force that he vaguely wondered why in the world she felt the need to do that when he wouldn't dream of walking away from this, from her. It's frantic and it's rushed. One of his hands find her waist, pulls her impossibly closer to him. His other hand delves into the hair at the back of her head before sliding to the side and pulling at the pins that hold her right bun in place. It takes him pulling out just one pin and the structure falls apart, her hair tumbling around them and cocooning them in place. He hears her gasp, her hands finally unlatching from his shirt as she splays them apart over his muscles, moves them up to his shoulders. 

He's moving backward, whether to ask her if this okay or make a comment about that noise she just made, he's not sure. He never gets the chance. She pulls his to her again, kisses him like she's been starved in a thirsting in wasteland for days and he's the first sign of water she's stumbled upon, bites his lip- fucking bites his lip and sucks on it and pulls it with her teeth… and he thinks that her being here could not have been his punishment. This, right here, her kissing him like this, this is his punishment. This is his pain finally taking over and shattering his soul.

Maybe Rosalind somehow found out about his little crush and is getting payback for the fact that he didn't show up for their nightly midnight story time. Maybe, he's already dead and in hell and some devil out there is playing a cruel, cruel trick on his brain. Maybe that's why his body is shaking, literally shaking, and his mind feels like its tearing apart. He feels Musa's hands on his scalp, her palms splayed out at his temples and fingers tightly wound into his hair. Again, he is surprised at the sheer force she seems to pour into her touch, anchoring him to her as though he could ever want to leave her embrace.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts and in her touch that he barely hears the whimpers of pain coming from her or feels the tears streaming down her face as she hold him to her. When he finally feels the tears trickle between their lips, be pulls back (genuinely, pulls back because her fingers are still forcing him to her), opens his eyes to find her already looking back at him. But instead of the brown irises she wore when this rough little make out session started, her eyes are now purple. And her face is red. She looks exhausted. He feels exhausted. 

He's about to ask her what's wrong, if she's ok, if her powers are going haywire. But he's so dizzy and so tired and suddenly he's leaning on her and she's pulling him onto the bed. She looks down at him, whispers "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over in his ear and he finds himself wondering what she's sorry about and where the pain that haunted him for weeks has gone before he slowly sinks into oblivion.

________________________________________________________________

He wakes up and she's gone.

It's Sky who sits next to him the next day, Sky and Headmistress Dowling of all people. He mumbles something about being dead and hallucinating, but Sky just laughs and tells him he's happy to have him back.

It takes a good few hours to catch him up on all the shit he's missed while he was being controlled by Rosalind. Apparently, Dowling was stuck under a bunch of plants? The girls somehow managed to free her with some potion from a cousin of Terra's. Turns out they've been sneaking out every night, pretending to go to parties and instead heading outside the barrier trying to find clues on what the hell Rosalind is up to. That would explain Musa's choice of clothing the other night. 

Sky tells him it was the girls' idea to keep him out of the loop at the beginning, worried that his weird obsession with Beatrix and her even weirder obsession with him would lead to Andreas and Rosalind finding out. Sky swears they were going to tell him eventually, and Riven has to tell him that he's glad they didn't. That's when Sky tells him what he'd already guessed. It was Musa who refused to tell him even after time has passed, sensing that something was wrong in his mind. Her being in their room the other night had been no mistake, but an orchestrated move. She'd practiced with Dowling for weeks, training to unlock his brain, pull it apart so that she could mentally remove Rosalind's control from his brain by sheer willpower and might, and then put it all back together as best she could. 

He's instinctively proud of her, she did it. But, he also wishes she'd done it with less kissing and in some less distracting attire, but he probably deserves the type of torture that will surely follow as a result of last night. After they fill him in, Sky throws his gear at him and tells him to get dressed and ready.

"We leave tonight."

"What? Where are we going?"

"That's a bit complicated." It's Dowling who answers this time. "Silva and Professor Harvey will meet us in the woods beyond the barrier. We will lead you the rest of the way. We're going to collect forces. There will be a war, and Rosalind will know that something is wrong when you miss your nightly meeting with her for the second time in a row. The Winx suite is already with Silva and Ben. They're waiting for us."

They leave the dorms using Stella's ring, which she has given to Dowling as a backup to her magic, which Rosalind is be able to track within school grounds. When they arrive to the location in the woods, Riven is only slightly surprised to find Sam among the girls. He's leaning on a tree, talking to Silva and his father, both of which look like they haven't slept for days. The girls are gathered together by a fallen tree. Musa is in the middle of them, huddled into herself, as Terra and a new girl with brown skin and long honey-brown hair rub her back. Stella, Bloom, and Aisha stand back, watching Musa with worry evident in their eyes. 

It's Stella who notices them first. She wipes the worry off her face with mastered ease that only comes with practice, straightens up her back, shoots Musa a look and calls loudly, "There you are! Took you guys long enough!"

From then on, it’s a quick fill-in on what the plan is, an awkward introduction to the Harvey cousin whose name he can't remember because his mind was too stuck on the girl whose hair is back in those buns he managed to loosen yesterday, and a small little "welcome back to the good side" before they're trekking their way through the woods.

He stands behind her the whole time. Watches as she follows the professors, but stands at the tail end of the line the girls have formed. She looks tired, the bags under her eyes tell him that the girls have probably been out here all night. He wonders how much of her energy it took to tear and mend his brain, if anyone bothered to let her rest after she did it. He wishes he was braver, wishes he could walk up to her and… what, thank her? Ask her why she did it? Why kiss him and then cure him? She could have just as easily done it while he was asleep. He bides his time, observes as one by one the girls take turns standing next to her, linking their arms with hers, smiling down at her, whispering who knows what in her ear and earning a laugh form her every now and then. He likes her laugh, it's cute.

He's currently watching as Bloom pull Musa to her and makes some joke about chickens, when he feels a punch land on his right arm.

"Are you as stupid as you look?" He turns to find that Stella has somehow walked backwards and is now next to him.

"Missed you too, princess," he mutters back.

"Oh, cut the bullcrap, Riven. You've been staring at her for the last two hours and I told her I wouldn't say anything but honestly, you two are hopeless. I've never met two people so oblivious in my life."

"I don’t know what you're talking about." he starts.

"Like shit you don't. If you don't know it yet, figure it out." And just like that she's running ahead and linking her right arm with Musa's as Bloom tries for another joke, this one about pigs that fly.

He tries to ignore Stella's stupid comment. Honestly, he figures it's probably safer to stare at her and look like a total creep than try to talk to her and make sense of his feeling about who the fuck knows what anymore. But Stella's words ring through his mind and he lets himself believe that maybe, just maybe…

In the end, he convinces himself that the reason he walks up to her once Bloom goes to hold Sky's hand and Stella moves in on the new girl to make conversation is because Stella offered him a challenge, and he likes to win at those. (He's heading straight for a loss, he's fully aware of that, but whatever.) 

"Long time no see," he jokes when he reaches her side. She cranes her neck up at him, not surprised to see him.

"Thought I heard your loud-ass emotions coming closer."

"Yeah, I've been told they can be quite the riot." He shoots her a smirk and she smiles up at him.

"Who told you that?"

"Oh, you know. Just some girl."

"Some girl, huh?"

"Yeah. Then she gave me a good snogging before tearing my brain to pieces without my knowing it."

"Mmm. She seems like a handful."

"Tell me about it." Her eyes fall downward and he doesn't need to be an empath to see the gears turning in her head.

"I'm sorry," she starts, "About that. I didn't want to do it, I know you have me reading your emotions."

"Yeah, but I hated having them controlled by someone else even more…" There's a pause and he quickly moves to fill it, scared that whatever courage juice that's coursing through his veins will run out soon. "Thank you, by the way." And he means it. He hopes she can sense the sincerity coming from him because he only has so many words in his vocabulary when it comes to her and fears he's already run out of them when she turns to look at him once more.

They've fallen behind the group at this point. He figures he won't get the chance to do this again for a while, so he asks her the question that been running rampant through his mind. It's pathetic, really. They're headed to god knows where to do god knows what and instead of worrying about the fact that war is coming or even being slightly concerned that he's just had his mind abused and prodded around by an evil mastermind, his biggest worry is if this girl really wanted to kiss him or if she just did it for show.

"So, umm, just so we're clear… did you mean it?" If he felt dumb thinking it, he feels like a world-class idiot saying it out loud.

"Mean what?" She stares back at him intensely, and he thinks to himself in an amused manner that they seem to be making a habit of staring at each other for longer than average periods of time. "The part about you being loud? Cuz, yeah, I meant every word. You're a walking catastrophe." She's smirking at him. He rolls his eyes her words.

"Couldn't care less about that. In fact, I'm glad my emotions are as obnoxious as I am- means they've been driving you crazy for a while now." Her smile falters a bit at that line. "What I want to know," he continues. "Is if you kiss everyone whose mind you go digging into like that." He still has not taken his eyes off her, and he's not going to start now, when she blushes and ducks her head under the collar of her red bomber jacket.

"That was a… last minute choice."

"What for?"

"I had to get close enough to you to make contact. I've only been practicing with Dowling for a few weeks and I didn’t want to screw it up. I can't really do the whole mind thing without some sort of contact just yet…" Her words drift off.

"Hand holding didn't cut it? Had to go for a full make-out session, complete with lip biting and everything?" He watches as she shivers into her coat, arms wrapped around herself.

"You would've pushed me away."

"How did you know I wouldn't push you away while kissing me?" She mutters something under her breath. He doesn’t catch it, not between that stupid jacket that she's using to shield her face. He gently takes a step forward, catches her chin between his fingers just as he had done the night before, makes her meet his eyes. "Come again?"

She sucks in a breath, her eyes waver to something behind him when she finally lets it out, "We both know you weren't going to say no to me throwing myself at you."

"And if I did?" He doesn't know who he's kidding, but it’s still a game and he's still playing to… lose?

She's still staring behind him when she frowns and says, "Then we would have seen just how great this shirt would have looked on your bedroom floor, after all."

And goddamn it, her words send his blood boiling. He's about to kiss her senseless, but he refuses to do it if she's not staring at him when he asks one last question.

With his finger still hooked under her chin and them standing mere inches away, he whispered into the air between them, "Look at me, Musa."

Her eyes slowly move to meet his. He gives up his last question, which just so happens to be his first, "Did you mean it?" And when her small "Yes" makes its way through her lips as her steady brown eyes catch his green ones, that's all the confirmation he needs.

His finger leaves her chin and moves to her head and then he's pulling her in, closer and closer and closer until she's all he can feel and smell and see and breathe. And she responds with the same vigor she used last night, wasting no time to wrap her arms around his neck and lock him to her. It's a new kind of game, one where they battle for dominance until they both run out of breath and need to break free. It makes him stronger, it breaks him down, it makes him wonder why the hell he ever wanted to win against her when he could instead let her win and lose himself to her as he is right now. And when his hands pull the pins from both buns from her hair as he kisses down her neck, she groans in half pleasure and half annoyance.

"I'll have to fix them again now," she whines, pouting her bottom lip out, which he takes as an invitation to bite and pull on it.

"You'll manage. Let me just have this now. I've been waiting a while to see you with your hair fully down." She scoffs but lets him stare at her in awe once he finds it in him to pull back from her lips in order to get a view his handiwork.

And to think, it all started with some fucking pigtails.

[give-me-malice]

Dick Grayson Week: Day 4 - Bruce Hits Dick & Doesn't Get Away With It

The slap resounds throughout the whole cave. The bats fly off, disturbed, chittering. Tim drops his mug.

The crash of the mug does little to disturb Bruce, whose eyes flicker to where Tim is, on the opposite side of the cave, analysing a blood splatter pattern for a recent case, before surveying Dick, who is panting, head turned away from the slap. Tim can just make out the red outline of a handprint on his face.

"Right." Dick speaks, voice raw, even though he had barely raised his voice before being slapped. "That's how it is."

Bruce crosses his arms, cape sealing around him, shadows wrapping around him like shock is wrapping around Tim, clouding his mind, clogging his veins. Because, what? Did Bruce just hit Dick? Tim may not be Jason, but even he could tell that Bruce seemed to favour Dick above them all. Well, okay, this may have changed his mind a little.

Tim dared not move closer, but he strained his ears to listen in.

"You were irresponsible tonight Dick." Bruce growled.

Dick let out a tired laugh, and scrubbed at his face, the remnants of the glue from his mask peeling off like dead skin cells, "You say that every night Bruce."

"You disobeyed my direct orders and nearly jeopardised the entire mission. The mission we have been working on for months now!"

Frustration bled out into Dick's voice, "The mission? That's all you care about? Not Jason nearly taking a bullet to the shoulder?"

Bruce just gritted his teeth. Tim bit his lip. Sure, it was no secret that Bruce and Jason weren't exactly on the best of terms, but generally Bruce cared about all of his children's wellbeing. Right? Right?

Tim's anxious spiral nearly caused him to miss Dick's next words, low and quiet. "God Bruce. You could at least try to pretend to care."

Bruce's fists began to clench, a sure sign that he was getting ready to throw a punch. Tim's stomach clenched, knotting, anxious as Dick continued, "You know, I try, try so damn hard to tell the kids you care about them, that you love them, that you would go to the ends of the earth for any of them, even Jay and Dami. But God, would it kill you once in a while to prove that?"

Tim started to make his way over to them, watching as Bruce's anger climb, his jaw work, wondering where the hell everyone else was in this godforsaken family was, readying himself to intervene should it come to it.

"The mission-" Bruce started, a vein pulsing at his temple-

"Forget the fucking mission Bruce! Can you just try to be a good father to them!" Dick threw his hands up in anger.

Tim saw the punch before it came, saw every move telegraphed in horrifying slow motion. Bruce, pulling back his right arm, leaning on his back leg, following through with a right hook, and punching Dick squarely in the jaw with zero hesitation, nearly full strength, messy, uncoordinated, not at all like the cold, clean and efficient methods of Batman; no this was all Bruce, Bruce's rage, Bruce's anger.

Dick was knocked to the ground immediately, and before he knew it, Tim had run forward, disarming Bruce, sending him crashing to the floor, the element of surprise on his side as evidenced by the bare shock in Bruce's eyes.

"Tim-" Dick started, behind him on the floor, voice thick with an emotion Tim couldn't quite identify.

"What the hell was that Bruce?" Tim hissed out, bo staff extended, pressing down on his chest.

"Tim please-" Bruce raised his hands in a placating manner, expression softening as he looked up at Tim, "Let me up, this is just a simple argument-" But no, no it wasn't, Tim thought, feeling the adrenaline course through his veins, his brain replaying the hit over, and over and over again, in bright, 4k technicolour.

"No Bruce," Tim hissed, "That looked like a father hitting his son."

Bruce's face shuttered, "Tim, let me up. This is an argument between two adults-" He said in his Batman's voice, the tone allowing for no argument.

"How long?" Tim turned around, craning his neck at Dick, who had gotten up, looking guilty as he nursed the swiftly developing bruise on his jaw, "How long has this has been going on Dick?"

Dick glanced away, and murmured, "It's fine Tim, leave it alone, I can handle it."

"The hell you can!" Tim exploded, surprising himself.

"Tim," Dick said softly, placing a hand on Tim's shoulder. He hadn't realised he was shaking. "Let him up."

Reluctantly, Tim straightened up, allowing Bruce to gingerly get up. He scowled at the man, crossing his arms.

"Come on Tim." Dick was leading him away, movements non-threatening, in the voice that he usually used with victims. Tim hated it. He should be the one comforting his big brother after this, not the other way round.

"How long Dick?" He said immediately, when they were out of reach of Bruce, safe in the showers. Dick clenched his jaw and looked away. "Dick," Tim pleaded, his voice cracking, "Please."

Dick's face was turned away but his shoulders were tense as he said, "Since before Jason."

Jesus Christ. That was years. Dick would have been Tim's age or younger.

Tim sucked in a breath, "Do the others know?"

"No." Dick's reply was immediate, "And they're not going to."

Tim's mouth fell open in shock. "Dick, what? You have to tell them!"

Dick's fist clenched, "I said no Tim! They can't know. They need..." Dick paused, taking in a shaky breath, Tim's chest ached for Dick. "They need to think he's a good father, okay?"

Tim tilted his head to look at the tiled ceiling, helplessly. Dick had been dealing with this for years and none of them had ever known. The rush of pain and empathy for Dick nearly made Tim buckle to his knees. Instead he sat on the bench and quietly murmured, "And what if it was one of us?" Tim looked up at Dick, whose face held a micro expression of horror.

"He wouldn't." Dick answered, automatically, still determinedly defending Bruce somehow with such conviction that Tim didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

"You can't know that for sure."

Dick shook his head with a sad smile on his face, "I made sure I took all the hits for you all Babybird."

And God that just made Tim feel a hundred and ten times worse. How many hits had Dick taken for him? Tim could feel himself spiralling, guilt crawling up his throat, but he shook his head, attempting to refocus himself. Now was not the time, he needed to help Dick first, and then take a massive guilt trip later.

"I'm telling the others." Tim said decisively, and Dick's head shot up.

"Tim, no-"

"No Dick," Tim said firmly. "The others need to know. This has gone on for way too long. And I could never forgive myself if you-" Tim broke off his sentence as Bruce's punch replayed once more in his mind, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and the crash of Dick falling to the floor.

He wasn't sure what they'd with (or to) Bruce once the others knew, but he did know this: the batfamily sticks together, and robins don't leave robins left behind.

@dickgraysonweek

A rather late entry on account of the week coinciding with the exam period, however I decided to take a night off and write this! I've seen a couple fics with Jason reacting to Bruce hitting Dick, but I can't recall many with Tim, so I thought I'd write this.

My AO3 :)

[girlboss-molina]

Be Who You Are (No Compromise)

A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU

Chapter 1: Introductions

AO3 Link

Words: 5543

-----

Alex POV

...

Of course. 

Of fucking course.

He’d known it was coming, yeah, but that didn’t change the fact that, despite his friendship with Princess Julie, Alex had no desire to marry her. And now, after begging not to be married off, he was still stuck in this deal.

It had nothing to do with Julie herself, of course; Julie was a kind, loving, musical girl around his age. The issue was that he was gay. Marrying a girl was not something he was interested in. 

Julie knew Alex was gay; he’d come out to her after he was sure she would accept him, which he knew she would after she mentioned her best friend being a lesbian, and her being bisexual herself. Needless to say, neither of them had been thrilled by the announcement a couple years back that they would be getting married, for more reasons than the fact that nobody wants to be in an arranged marriage. 

And now, in three months time, he would be at the alter with a girl he wasn’t in love with. 

Alex knew it wouldn’t be that bad; in fact, he and Julie were quite close friends. Their kingdoms, Tambor and Dahlia respectively, were close allies. But for some godforsaken reason, their leaders had felt the need to strengthen their allyship by setting up their heirs in an arranged marriage. Had Alex been the oldest, this wouldn’t have been the case. However, it wouldn’t be him, but his older sister, Ava, taking the throne of Tambor. 

He, along with his guards, would be travelling to Dahlia this evening. He hated that it was so soon. Not that he wasn’t excited to see Julie, he was, but it was the reason that put a knot in his stomach.

Alex allowed himself one more panic attack before getting ready. As a treat.

The warm sun streaming into his room felt out of place with the dread settling in his stomach, and his breath choked, his heart racing, salty tears streaming down his face. He clenched his hands into fists and back out, trying to calm himself despite the emotional release. His nails dug into his palm, not hard enough to cut, but enough to leave little indents that he then ran his fingertips across. 

Trying to pull himself together, he stood - albeit shakily - and walked across the soft, carpeted floor to his full-length mirror, pleasantly surprised as he noted that he wasn’t as big of a mess as he’d expected, given his previous panic. 

A knock on his door alerted him that his head butler was there to help him get ready for the jet ride.

“Your highness, are you alright?”

Alex didn’t answer, grateful for Luke’s steady voice outside his door.

“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” he suggested, and Alex hoped Luke was receiving the strong thank you vibes he was trying to transmit telepathically. 

Any time Alex had a panic attack, he was semi-verbal. He could speak if he really, really tried, but it generally took a great deal of effort. He and Luke had a system, though; if Alex needed support during a panic attack, he would fake-sneeze three times, and Luke would come in from his station outside Alex’s door. 

Alex allowed himself another minute to calm his breathing and wipe the tears from his face, practicing the grounding exercise Julie had taught him. 

Inhale- 1, 2, 3, 4

Hold- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Exhale- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

It helped a lot, and soon he was able to straighten his hair and begin changing into the suit his tailors had made just for this occasion. 

Another knock echoed from his door, and Alex took one final deep breath to compose himself. 

“Come in,” he said, proud of how steady his voice was. 

The butler entered; a kind man named Erik, who Alex had gotten to know over the past month or so. His olive skin shone in the afternoon light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. 

Alex dressed himself, for the most part; having butlers help him dress was never something he particularly enjoyed. He allowed Erik to smooth his white dress shirt, though; no matter how many times Alex had practiced tucking in his shirts, they always ended up wrinkled. 

He slid the navy suit vest over the shirt once it was nice and smooth, fastening the thick buttons over his stomach. Minimalistic gold embroidery on the vest sparkled in the light, and Alex couldn’t help but smile at the bit of flair. He’d been half-hoping that his matching navy pants would have a bit of sparkle as well, but to no avail. Probably for the best, he decided. Just a little touch was enough. 

He fixed the cuff of his sleeve, taking a breath as Erik reached up with a comb to fix his hair. It was simple but refined, how it always was. 

“Erik, you’ve outdone yourself with this one, bro!” Alex said excitedly. He might not be very pleased about being in an arranged marriage, but he could appreciate a good suit. “I love the details.”

“I’m glad you like it!” Erik beamed with the praise. “May I?” he asked, reaching for Alex’s shoulders. Alex nodded, and Erik smoothed the vest’s warm fabric, readjusting the hem until it was aligned perfectly. 

He might not have been the type of guy to always wear suits, unless necessary, but Alex had to admit it. He looked good. The slim fit outlined his muscles, and the deep blue of the vest and pants brought out the bluish tints in his blue-green-grey eyes. (nobody could seem to decide what color they actually were). The small touches of golden embroidery shone and somehow managed to accentuate the sun-born highlights in his hair. 

“You look wonderful, your highness.”

“Thanks, Erik. And you can call me Alex, we’re chill.” Alex had been insisting to Erik that he could be casual around him for months, but Erik still generally referred to him as “your highness.”

“Alex,” he corrected with a broad smile. “Well, Alex, you have a photoshoot for the press in ten minutes, so if there’s anything else I can do to get you ready, don’t hesitate to ask. Though I must say, you look awesome.” Alex let out a small laugh. 

“Thanks, dude. Oh, wait, before you go, could you tell me something?”

“Of course,” Erik replied. Alex put on his Serious Face.

“Do these pants make my butt look big?” Erik bust out laughing, and Alex couldn’t help but do the same. 

...

Three hours later, Alex was finally done with an exhaustive photoshoot. He hated having his picture taken; add that to the list of anxieties. He had to make sure he looked perfect, or everything could go wrong; that was what his parents had drilled into him from the moment he had his first real photoshoot. 

Of course, he still had to endure an interview with the Tambor Times Magazine, which he was dreading. Speaking to an overeager journalist with no respect for privacy was never something he looked forward to. 

“What are your thoughts on the marriage that has been arranged between you and Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie of Dahlia?” Alex cleared his throat.

“It’s definitely a unique situation,” he started. “I mean, not every nineteen-year-old is part of an arranged marriage.” He did his best to keep his voice light, and it must’ve worked, because the journalist gave a laugh and moved on. 

“If I may, what is your current relationship with her?”

“The princess and I share a close bond,” was the only answer he gave. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be going,” he added. “I have a flight to catch.” He grinned - He didn’t have to catch any flight. He would be on the royal family private jet. But the journalist smiled and shook his hand, instructing him to have a wonderful evening, and he did the same. 

The bit about catching a flight wasn’t entirely false, though; soon, he had wished his parents a good evening and boarded the jet with his suitcases, hoping to leave his anxiety in Tambor.

-----

Julie POV

...

So.

Here’s the thing. 

Julie liked Alex, she really did. He was one of her closest friends (princesses don’t get out much). But he was gay, And Julie was decidedly Not A Guy. Plus, they both knew their connection was strongest platonically, anyway. 

Of course, none of that matters in diplomacy. 

Julie had tried many, many times to get out of the arranged marriage. But she’d just turned eighteen, and Alex nineteen, and apparently their kingdoms had no such qualms about marrying off teenagers. 

At least her dad, King Ray, had tried to get her out of it. But even as king, there was only so much he could do; everybody except for him thought it was a grand idea, because Of Course They Did. And once the public had heard the news, when she was sixteen, Julie couldn’t look out her window without seeing photographers outside the palace gates for a week. 

She supposed there was nothing she could do about it now, though, no matter how much she wanted to, for her sake and Alex’s. 

At least he was someone she got along with well. She knew they would never be in love, for multiple reasons, but she wouldn’t be unhappy. Alex might, though. They’d stayed up late on many a night, him rambling about cute guys he’d seen amongst the palace staff or on his occasional trip to the city, her chatting about songs she’d been writing and the one guy she’d had a crush on, Nick. 

Nick was the son of a nobleman her dad was very close with, and they were good friends, but she’d never acted on her little crush. Her feelings for Nick hadn’t really gone anywhere, it was just a lingering crush she’d had for a few years, but one that had faded with time.

Julie sighed, smoothing out her dress. It was simple but elegant, with a little bit of Julie flair. The silky violet fabric was cut in a slim fit to her waist, before gently flaring outwards towards her ankles. Off-the-shoulder straps revealed the dark skin of her shoulders, and the pearly embroidery of dahlia flowers around her waist shone in the light, tapering off as she twirled, though as she practiced her camera smile, it didn’t reach her eyes. 

Alex was her friend, but neither of them wanted to get married. But she’d tried her hardest to get them out of it, to no avail. 

So, as she sat down at her vanity, Julie closed her eyes and reminded herself the words her mother used to tell her every time she was scared. 

It’ll all be okay, Jules. You’re strong, and you’re a diamond in the rough.

The words settled her stomach a little bit. 

Her lady-in-waiting, Mira, knocked on her door. 

“Come in,” Julie said. Mira bustled in, her flaming red hair pulled into a messy bun, her brown eyes sparkling. 

“Oh, Jules, you look lovely.” Julie smiled.

“Thanks, Mira. How’s my hair?” Julie reached up to smooth her curls, which had been combed back and woven into a thick, braided knot at the base of her neck.  

“Almost perfect, but it needs a little something,” Mira decided with a smirk. Julie had no idea what Mira had in mind, but she knew she would love it. 

Before either of them could say another word, Flynn walked into Julie’s room, followed by her girlfriend, Carrie. 

“Hey, underachiever,” Flynn greeted with a smile.

“Hey, disappointment!”

“Dude,” Flynn said, a serious look on her face. “That dress is the shit!” Carrie nodded enthusiastically. 

“A definite look.”

“Thanks guys,” Julie said with a grin. “I love it, too! Mira’s got some sort of magic in her hands, because this is one of my favorites for sure.” Mira blushed. 

“Well, I’m not quite done,” she admitted. “Jules, your color scheme is pink, purple, and blue, usually, right?”

“Yeah, usually! I can always get behind some other colors, though.”

“Of course. But I think for this dress, the pink-purple-blue scheme would fit the best.”

“Definitely,” Carrie jumped in. “The purple mediates the pink and blue, so those are like side accents.” 

“I like this one,” Mira decided, pointing at Carrie. Carrie flipped her hair and smiled. “But yes. So, I was thinking for your hair, we could weave in some thin ribbons in those colors? It would be super simple, wouldn’t even have to take it out and restyle it.”

“Work your magic,” Julie instructed. Mira grinned excitedly and set to work, sitting Julie down at the vanity.

“Okay, Jules,” Flynn sighed. “I know you don’t want me to ask this, but are you doing okay?” Carrie took Flynn’s arm and nodded. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. Either of you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Julie decided. She didn’t want to marry Alex, and she knew he felt the same way. “At least it’s not somebody I hate, though. Alex and I get along really well.”

“I know,” Carrie added. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be okay.” A single tear rolled down Julie’s cheek, and she was grateful she hadn’t done her makeup yet.

“Thanks. To be honest, I’m not really okay, but I’ll live. And besides, it’s not for another three months. And having another friend around for a few months will be nice. Before, you know, I have to marry him.” Flynn let out a sad laugh. 

“If I may add my input,” Mira began, “I’ve always hated the prospect of arranged marriages. At the very least, both people should have to agree with it.” Julie nodded, quickly stopping when she felt the ribbons Mira was weaving into her hair tug. “Sorry,” she added. “I’ll be done in just a moment.”

“I agree,” Carrie said. “It’s stupid. Dahlia and Tambor are already allies, so why are they even doing this?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. My dad says it’s to ‘strengthen agreeability between our separate civilians.’ But at least tried to get me out of it,” she added. “King Xavier and Queen Claire both thought it was a great idea.” Julie had always held some bitterness towards Alex’s parents, given their closed-mindedness and apathy towards minorities and less fortunate people. Alex had always felt the same, and avoided coming out to them for those reasons. 

“Well, I personally think it’s homophobic that my best friend is being forced to be part of an arranged marriage,” Flynn decided, “because I’m gay and it annoys me. Plus, you know, she doesn’t want to be part of it.” Julie couldn’t help but laugh at that, as did Mira. 

“All done with the ribbons,” she said, handing Julie a mirror to see the back of her head. 

“Oh, Mira, I love it!” The ribbons were braided through her thick hair, swooping around the knot, twisting through her own curls and holding the hairstyle together perfectly. Both pretty and practical. 

“I’m glad!” Mira looked very proud of herself, for a good reason. Julie’s lady-in-waiting was definitely a woman to be admired (and feared - she’d taken down a full-grown man in a self defense class, while wearing heels). Julie could walk in heels, even run in them, but she’d tried fighting in them, and failed miserably. She might’ve been competent fighting in regular shoes, but heels were a different story. Mira, though, could do it all. 

Mira’s phone dinged. 

“Oh, Jules, it’s time for the pre-meetup photoshoot!”

“Got it. Thanks, Mira, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Forget about your photoshoots, probably.”

…

The photoshoot involved lots of candid shots of her in the garden, doing her best to look serene, and not show the anxiety bubbling in her stomach. But somehow, she actually managed to get through it without losing it. 

“Wonderful, miss. Turn towards me, look to your left- yes, perfect.” The photographer’s voice faded as she obeyed his instructions, a human robot running correctly but with wandering thoughts. 

“You look so natural, miss!” he complimented. Julie offered a smile, returning to her thoughts. There had to be a way to get her and Alex out of this. But she couldn’t think of any that wasn’t treasonous, illegal, or flat-out stupid. Of course, as a teenage girl, she felt she deserved to be a little stupid sometimes, but apparently that was “unbecoming of a princess” and “a bad influence.” Personally, she just thought that was biphobic.

-----

Luke POV

...

Luke hadn’t ever traveled much, let alone to a neighboring kingdom, so needless to say, he was pumped to get to visit Dahlia for three months at least. His hope was that, even though no one involved wanted the marriage to happen, they could find a bright side in him getting to stay with his best friend. 

Of course, that didn’t change the fact that he felt bad for his charge and best friend, Alex. He knew Alex was gay; in fact, they’d “dated” for a few weeks when they were fourteen. But even after deciding they were better as friends, they were close, maybe even closer afterwards. Luke told Alex everything; he didn’t know if he had a secret that Alex didn’t know. 

Everyone in the palace was used to seeing him and Alex wandering the grounds, goofing off, messing around in the music studio, what have you. Technically, Luke was a junior guardsman, and given his bond with the prince, had been assigned (along with an actual guard) to be his security detail. That had evolved into an even stronger friendship, though. Years passed, and soon they were inseparable. 

Luke had done his best to cheer up Alex; seeing his best friend that upset was heartbreaking. But there was nothing he could actually do to help, so he settled for laying next to Alex on the floor and staring at the high ceilings.

An hour passed, and soon the afternoon sun was streaming into Alex’s room. Luke saw Alex drag a hand down his face. 

“I guess you should start getting ready, then?” he asked.

“Probably.” Luke patted his shoulder. “Do you think it would be too drastic to fake my death?” Luke laughed, knowing Alex was joking, though it wouldn’t have actually surprised him. Alex and Julie were friends, but neither of them wanted to get married. Especially not the gay guy, very publicly, to a girl. 

Luke stood up, giving Alex a mock salute, and walked out the door, closing it behind him. 

He stood there for a few minutes, straightening his back as a senior guardsman passed him. He ducked his head in a nod, relaxing a moment later. As much as he might’ve come off as a chill guy, he was worried for Alex; even more so when he heard Alex’s breathing quicken from the other side of the wall, his footsteps pacing back and forth. 

The panic attack shouldn’t have surprised him. Alex had clinical anxiety, and this was probably one of the most stress-inducing times of his life. Being forced into an arranged marriage - even if you’re friends with the other person - is no fun for anybody. And today he would be going to the Dahlia palace to stay for three months before the ceremony.

Luke fiddled with the hem of his jacket; it was charcoal black, and thick and protective, with eight buttons on the wide front, crossing his chest. He’d gotten used to it, but despite that, he still started sweating in the warm weather of Tambor. The red sash crossing over the jacket had golden embroidery on the edges, and he quite enjoyed running his fingers over the textured thread. 

Luke could still hear Alex panicking, but there were no sets of three fake sneezes in between the rapid breaths, so he stayed. Alex was able to recognize when he needed support, and when he needed to be left alone. 

Luke spotted Erik nearing him. He couldn’t stop him, but Erik was aware of Alex’s anxiety, so Luke wasn’t concerned. He smiled at Erik, giving him a look, warning him that Alex was having a panic attack. Erik nodded, knocking gently on the door. 

“Your highness, are you alright?” When Alex didn’t respond, Luke jumped in. 

“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” Erik nodded, and Luke gave a relieved smile. 

“You look nervous as well,” Erik noted. 

“Well, I am, a little bit,” Luke admitted. “I’ve never been to Dahlia, but I’m going with Alex since I’m his head guard and Royal Best Dude™.” Erik grinned. “I’m excited, though! I bet it’ll be a lot of fun.”

“I’m so jealous,” Erik told him. “I’ve never been outside of Tambor.”

“I’m worried for Alex, though. He’s really nervous.”

“Yeah,” Erik agreed, a flicker of understanding rushing across his face that made Luke smile despite himself. If he was being honest, Luke had a tiny crush on Erik, but nothing substantial. “I mean, it’s gotta suck being closeted to everyone but a few people, and having to marry a girl.” Luke nodded. 

“I wish there was something we could do about it.”

…

Luke stood guard off-camera while Alex had his pre-meetup photoshoot and interview. It was what he always did, though this time it felt different, like he was a silent supporter during a tough time, now more than ever. 

If nothing else, he could reassure Alex that he looked fabulous in his suit - it wasn’t a lie, either. The navy blue fabric complimented his eyes perfectly, and the golden details were a stunning addition. Tie that with his sharp jaw and awkward, endearing personality? Anybody would simp for him. He had a feeling that many people did, too; Some of Alex’s best photos from these shoots would be printed in the Tambor Times Magazine, and he would also post some - as well as his own selfies - on his instagram. Luke had seen the comments, and always smirked at Alex given the amount of heart-eyed emojis and key smashes there were. 

Luke stood behind the cameraman for the candid shots where they needed Alex to be smiling or laughing. No matter how much he practiced, Alex could never get a good candid smile, so Luke took it upon himself to stand behind the photographer making faces, or occasionally imitating their every move with mock seriousness. 

When Alex’s musical laugh rang through the air, Luke patted himself on the back. 

Worked every time. 

He worked his magic for a few more shots afterwards, doing his best to make Alex laugh. It wasn’t just for the photos, though, it was to help him settle down. Luke knew this was a horrible situation, but there was nothing he could do to stop it, so he’d have to try to make it more bearable. 

After Alex’s interview, Luke could tell that the reality of the situation was hitting him even more, as a flicker of fear shadowed his face, his hands clenched into fists. Luke walked towards him slowly, making sure Alex was okay with it, and when he didn’t retract, he put his hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised. And as Alex seemed to relax, nodding and pulling Luke into a hug, that was when he knew.

Alex was his best friend, and didn’t deserve any of this pain or fear. He deserved for things to be okay.

Luke would keep that promise, no matter what.

-----

Reggie POV

...

Reggie knew he was Princess Julie’s honorary older brother; it had been that way for years, after he ran away from his own pathetic excuse for a home. He was lucky King Ray was a kind man; he could’ve just as easily left him there where he’d found him, a nine-year-old in the street of the raining Dahlia capital city. But he’d taken Reggie in, and soon, Reggie was part of the royal family, even if not by blood. 

Now, given that he was Julie’s honorary older brother, he hated that she was being put into an arranged marriage. She was eighteen, for God’s sake! Reggie was nineteen, and knew for a fact he wouldn’t have been able to handle it nearly as gracefully as she did. Then again, while she was young, playful, and vibrant, Julie was also the epitome of grace and poise; she’d grown up in a palace, after all. 

Needless to say, though, Reggie was sure he wouldn’t be able to not be protective of Julie when Prince Alexander came. He’d met him before, but only briefly; in passing after dinner during visits, mostly. It did help Reggie’s nerves to remember that Alexander was a very sweet, reserved person from his own interactions with the man. But that was his little sister, and while she wasn’t completely devastated, Reggie knew she didn’t want it to happen. 

He dragged a hand down his face, flopping down on his bed. He wanted so badly to help Julie out of this, but he couldn’t. 

Hey, at least he could cheer her up with his jokes! She always said they were awful, but Reggie knew better. Only the finest of jokes could make Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie Molina of Dahlia, laugh until her sides hurt, even coming from her honorary older brother, Sir Reginald Molina. 

He smiled to himself. He might not be able to stop this whole predicament, but he could help her through it.

Reggie hopped up, fixing his suit. The silky red fabric of the vest hadn’t creased at all, nor had his grey suit pants, and yet he still felt the need. He did, however, roll the sleeves of his black dress shirt to expose his forearms, because come on. Even with Dahlia’s cool climate, he still got hot, especially when the sun was streaming through his windows, and he had a few photos outside before Prince Alexander’s arrival. Plus, it didn’t hurt that, according to his Instagram followers, the rolled sleeves made him look “personable” and “hotter than the sun.” 

Reggie ran a finger over the shimmering black embroidery of the vest, then winking at the mirror and pulling his best finger guns. It was his god-given right as a fancy bisexual. 

He ran his hand through his expertly-styled hair, letting some of his waves free from their stiff hold. It wasn’t the perfect style it had been when his butler styled it a couple hours ago, but it was more of his own style, which he liked a bit better. Spinning on his heel and slipping a hand in his pocket, Reggie walked out his door and down the light-filled corridor, down to the front steps, waving to Mira along the way. As he stepped outside, he heard people outside of the palace gates start shouting. He gave a wink and playful salute, even daring to blow a kiss in the general direction of a cute girl. He noticed Julie rolling her eyes, the photographer seizing the moment to take some shots of him on the palace steps. 

He jogged over to Julie, wrapping his arm around her. 

“How are you doing, your highness?”

“I’m doing okay,” she said, though both of them knew it was a lie. “How about you, Reg?”

“I’m okay as well. Just popping in to see my fangirls-” he winked at the crowd behind the gate, and a chorus of teenage girls (and a few boys) all sighed dreamily- “and check on you. We both know you’re lying.” Julie groaned.

“This whole thing just sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed. “But I’ll be here for you every step of the way. You know that, right dude?”

“You’re such a sappy loser,” she told him, and he put her in a playful headlock, posing for the camera.

“I know.” Reggie might’ve been a “sappy loser” of a brother, but he knew that, in Julie’s book, he was a sappy loser (affectionate), and that she understood that he was there for her. 

Hopefully that would be enough. 

-----

Willie POV

...

Willie had never actually gotten to know Princess Julie, but he’d met her a couple times. He was a chef in the palace kitchens, and on occasion, Julie would come down to try to get to know people. He’d never truly had a long conversation with her, but in the interactions they’d had, she was kind, and had a musical air to her. 

He’d seen pictures of the prince she was set to marry, Prince Alexander of Tambor. If Willie was being honest, he was kind of cute.

Okay, really cute. 

He’d never actually met the guy, but he seemed nice. His photos on Instagram had good vibes, at least. Willie couldn’t help but hope he’d get to meet him when he came to visit. If it was just because his brain was screaming cute boy, that was nobody’s business but his. 

Willie sprinkled more flour on the dough he was kneading, folding it in some more. It was cathartic, this repetitive motion. It helped calm his ADHD sometimes. He kept going.

Sprinkle. Fold. Roll.

Sprinkle. Fold. Roll.

Kneading the dough until it wasn’t sticky, he listened to the head chef, Lilian, shout orders at the rest of them. She was a very intimidating woman, tall and muscular, with raven black hair in a sleek ponytail, and fair skin flecked with flour. But she was quite kind, Willie had come to learn over the years. She was just one of those people who scared you if you didn’t know them. 

He put the dough in a pan, setting it in the oven and flicking on the light so he could monitor its progress, as could anyone else walking by. Wiping the flour from his hands to his apron, he then put his dishes and utensils in the giant dishwasher, finally washing his hands and grabbing a new bowl. 

Tonight was the welcome feast for Prince Alexander. Willie and a few others were in charge of baking loaves of bread for the appetizers, as well as making the desserts; today, mini chocolate mousse cakes. 

Dessert was always Willie’s favorite course to prepare, and not just because he could steal bits of frosting from the spatulas after he was finished. It was also because of how making desserts seemed to put everyone in the kitchens in a good mood. Maybe it was the smell of rising sugar, or the bright colors of the tubs of sprinkles, but he adored it. 

He cracked the eggs into the mixture of butter and sugar, adding the milk and flour soon after. As he poured in the cocoa powder, a little bit poofed up, creating a chocolatey cloud. The noise of the mixture did nothing to silence his racing thoughts, though. 

Would he get to meet Prince Alexander?

Would he like him?

And most importantly, why did he want to so badly? 

Willie shook his head, doling the batter into mini cake pans and tapping them on the counter to get rid of any air bubbles, sticking them in an oven after it beeped to temperature. 

Another oven beeped.

“Hey, Alyssa?” he called to a plump woman a few meters away. “Could you check on the bread in that oven to your right?” She nodded and leaned down, giving him a thumbs up.

“Probably needs another minute or so, but it looks great.”

“Sick, thanks!” Alyssa nodded and smiled, her dyed-purple hair shimmering in its bun. 

Willie grabbed the ingredients he would need for the mousse, arranged them on the counter, then jogged over to the other oven and pulled out the bread - without putting on oven mitts.

He hissed in pain but didn’t let go, quickly putting it on the stovetop and running to a sink to run his fingers under cold water.

Willie already had tons of scars and calluses on his hands, both from cooking and skateboarding on his off-days, so the burn didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it would’ve a few years ago. And by some miracle, it didn’t blister - though it did swell and turn red. Willie cursed under his breath, heading to the first-aid kit and smearing some ointment on it and covering it with a bandage. 

“Let me guess,” said Lilian from behind him. “You forgot oven mitts again?”

“Guilty,” he said with a grin. Lilian sighed, but didn’t manage to hide her smile. 

“Willie, you need to be more careful. I know your brain always has, like twenty thoughts going at all times, but you could hurt yourself.”

“Twenty-three,” he corrected. “And I know, but you only live once, and I didn’t want the bread to burn.”

“Five seconds to grab a mitt wouldn’t burn the bread.”

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything.” Lilian rolled her eyes and gently swatted him on the shoulder. It wasn’t a mean move, of course, it was her saying she was exasperated but that she cared about you. Willie laughed and went back to his mixing bowl, getting ready to prepare the mousse.

This would be perfect.

[whatsmyline-pb]

Saw this for the first time today and just about died. Then this happened:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32013415

(Edit: a big thanks to @stevieshelby for a much better quality picture.)

Alfie Solomons does not run. Ever. Men who run, in his opinion, are silly and weak; either running from or to something and either way showing far too much desperation in doing so. Alfie is a firm believer in acting with as little urgency as possible.

He knows, of course, that most people running are doing so for the sake of exercise. But it’s a bloody foolish way to achieve fitness, if you ask him. Likely does more harm than good, slamming your joints together against hard pavement. Swimming is a much more sensible form of exercise.

Point is, Alfie doesn’t run.

—

Leave it to Tommy Shelby to ruin Alfie’s first true holiday in years. It’s summer and it’s Margate and Alfie is altogether content to let work fade into oblivion and get some much-needed rest. But of course, he can’t get one fucking moments peace before the little prick is calling him, demanding that they meet, that it’s urgent, cannot be discussed over the phone, and what’s Alfie’s rental address, he’ll be there first thing in the morning.

And mornings, right, mornings are sacred to Alfie, especially when on holiday. He likes to take his fucking time, stretch languidly while the last remnants of sleep slip away, stay in bed however long he pleases and not leave a moment sooner. And then, when he deems himself ready to rise, make his way to the terrace with coffee and biscuits and a book and cigar. Greet the day with leisurely intent.

And fuck if he’s gonna let Tommy interfere with that pleasure. So the next day he goes about his morning just as he normally would, and when Tommy pulls up in his sleek Royce he’s just opened his book and taken his first sip of coffee.

“Just come on up, for fucks sake,” he hollers down when Tommy knocks on the front door. Moments later Tommy is standing in front of him, looking incredulous. Or really, looking entirely impassive, if you don’t know him. But Alfie does, so, yes, it’s definitely incredulity swimming behind those flat eyes.

Thing is, another part of Alfie’s morning routine is not getting dressed. Dressing really defeats the point of lounging around, doesn’t it? It’s boxers and a loose robe for him, and there’s nothing like the feeling of the warm morning sun on your bare chest, is there?

“You forget I was coming, Alfie?”

“Naw mate, how could I? Been anxious for my groceries, haven’t I?” He’d texted Tommy as soon as they’d hung up last night, Be a dear and stop by Kosher Kingdom before you leave, followed by a rather extensive grocery list. Just to be a prick, really; hadn’t expected any follow-through. But Tommy’s holding a grocery bag.

“Those ‘em?” He asks and grabs it from him. Tommy pays this no heed.

“You didn't think a business meeting warranted, I don’t know, putting some trousers on? Maybe a shirt?”

“Business meeting? Naw. I’m on fucking holiday, ain’t I?” He says it into the bag, busy shuffling through the contents. Only half his requests are in there. “Where are my bourekas?” He asks, looking up.

Tommy glares at him and pulls out a cigarette. His eyes flit unwittingly over Alfie’s bare torso as he lights it. Alfie suppresses a smug grin.

Could be that not wanting to disrupt his normal routine isn't the only reason Alfie declined to dress for Tommy’s visit. Could be, yeah, that they’ve been in business together for seven months and those seven months have felt like a fucking eternity, all of them spent with Alfie not so secretly lusting after Tommy and Tommy, cunt that he is, determinedly ignoring his advances (even though Alfie is damn sure his desires are reciprocated). So yeah, he stayed half-naked to make a point about holidays and respect and all that, but also to taunt Tommy.

Rather transparent. Could be he’s getting a bit desperate.

“So what’s this big emergency, then? You finally set the factory on fire smoking those godforsaken fags? Tear a hole in that favorite suit of yours, hmm? Someone finally snap and off Arthur? Out with it, treacle.”

Tommy sighs as he slides into the seat opposite Alfie. “How’s it you’re even more fucking irritating on holiday, Alfie?”

Alfie just smiles.

“Alright,” Tommy says, pulling some papers from his briefcase and onto the table. He launches into a story, and Alfie immediately forgets to listen. Thing is, there’s a lot going on in Margate in the summer, even this early in the day. Folks are up and about and Alfie can’t help it if he’s an avid people-watcher. Not really in the headspace for business, is he?

Alfie’s somehow getting away with not paying attention to Tommy when the group of runners pound by. They look equally smug and miserable and he can’t help but mutter, “Ridiculous fucking hobby.”

This stops Tommy mid-sentence. “You hear a word I just fucking said, Alfie?”

Alfie nods. “Yeah, mate, sure. Something about a shipment and a fuck up.”

Tommy’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrow. He looks from Alfie to the runners and to Alfie again. It’s a long, heavy silence. Long enough that Alfie grabs the grocery bag again and begins pawing through it. He can practically feel the annoyance radiating off Tommy.

“You remember when you set me up with that cousin of yours?” Tommy asks, an eternity later.

Alfie can’t help it, he breaks into a toothy grin. He remembers it. Often and fondly. It’s not every day Tommy is in need of a last-minute date for an important business dinner and turns to Alfie for help. And really, Tommy should have known better. Of course, Alfie was going to hire an escort to accompany him, paying her extra to pretend to be his cousin. Of course, he was going to relish the opportunity to fuck with the great Tommy Shelby, delight in the knowledge of him prancing proudly around London with a high-end prostitute on his arm.

Hadn’t expected him to ever find out, at least not until a few years later when he’d randomly decide to let his duplicity slip. Hadn’t anticipated that there’d be an adversary present at the dinner who knew just who his ‘cousin’ was, did little to hide it and, in fact, outed Tommy on spot. Alfie can’t quite regret this, though. Would never have gotten to see his cheeks flushed so darkly, red with rage and embarrassment, the next day, would he have? It made the fist to the face and ensuing month of stony silence entirely worth it.

“Course I remember, treacle. One of my finer moments. Really though, you were rather ungrateful, weren’t you? Just trying to give a mate a pleasurable night and all I get in return is a black eye and broken nose.”

Tommy is looking at him with that look of his, the one that means there’s a scheme brewing and you’d best brace yourself.

“Tell you what, Alfie,” Tommy says, leaning forward and stamping out his cigarette. “You make it to the pier and back in under a minute, and I’ll return the favor.”

“What, you’re gonna hire me an escort?” Alfie asks, amused.

“No.” His eyes bore into Alfie, the blues in them much darker than usual. His meaning, suddenly obvious, clicks.

There’s not many things that can stun Alfie into silence. He blinks stupidly at Tommy for a few beats, then leans back, dragging his hand over his beard.

“Let me get this straight. I go for a quick jog and we fuck?”

“Think it’ll have to be more of a sprint, Alfie.”

Tommy knows Alfie’s feelings about running. Knows them because Alfie had told him, can never keep his fucking mouth shut and stop the landslide of damning information that falls out.

A run for a fuck. It’s tempting, for sure. But Alfie has his pride. There’s lots of things he’d do for a fuck, but running definitely ain’t one of them, no matter how desperately he wants it.

“Naw mate. Don’t feel like getting dressed, quite yet.” Tommy quirks an eyebrow.

“Didn’t say anything about getting dressed, did I?”

Alfie laughs at this. Of course, it’s his unkempt appearance that Tommy thinks adds an extra punch of humiliation to this bargain. But Alfie could give a fuck, and Tommy should really know better. He’d meet the Queen in his boxers and robe, head held high, wouldn’t he? But running? No.

“Tommy, sweetie, it’s not going to happen. Now, isn’t there some world-ending urgent reason you are here?”

Tommy shrugs and starts over.

Alfie listens. Or tries to. Tommy himself proves to be the distraction this time. First, he takes off his suit jacket, and fucking well he should, he’s got too many layers for this heat, so that’s just fine.

Then he starts to roll his shirt sleeves upwards. Not in the messy, rushed way that Alfie shoves his own up, but slowly, methodically, one careful fold over another. It takes a tedious amount of time for his forearms to emerge and Alfie tracks the progress hungrily. He’s always had a weakness for those arms, which Tommy, of course, well knows. Another stupid thing he’d let slip. But no matter, they’re just arms, after all.

The lazy recline against his seatback is definitely unexpected. So unlike Tommy, to don a posture of such ease. Yet it suits him, stretches his body out more fully, allows Alfie a more substantial view. And there’s the leg too, that has slid out as result, and is now pressing firmly against Alfie’s own, calf to calf. It’s not moving or anything, so, really, it’s no big deal.

Tommy keeps talking and Alfie keeps listening. Problem is, Tommy’s doing this thing, and it’s definitely the most distracting of all the things. He keeps slipping his eyes from Alfie’s face, raking them over his body, slow and deliberate, licking his lips as he does. And that, well that is just fucking sinful and cruel and underhanded and right up Alfie’s alley.

A run for a fuck. It’s ludicrous, yet…

The leg next to his gives a forceful nudge.

“Asked you a question, Alfie.” There’s a drop of sweat running down Tommy’s throat, spilling onto his clavicle. When had Tommy undone the top two buttons of his shirt?

Maybe, maybe, just one, short run won’t kill him. He clears his throat.

“A minute, you say?” Tommy blinks, then nods, trying and failing to keep his lips from twitching upwards. The hair on his forehead has begun to curl slightly in the humidity. Alfie wants to run his hand through it, brush it away, feel how soft it must be.

“Fuck it. Where are my goddamn trainers, then?”

—

Alfie runs like the wind, or so he’d like to think. It’s not far in that he first considers, with slight panic, that this distance might not be doable in under a minute, not for an avid non-runner, such as himself. But there’s no fucking way he’s not getting his reward for this ridiculous exercise in humiliation.

He picks up his pace, stiffens his hands, pumps his arms with vigor. He runs like the devil’s chasing him and there’s a naked Tommy Shelby jumping and cheering his name at the finish line. He can only imagine what he looks like, face set with anguished determination, robe billowing behind him.

Tommy’s holding in laughter, eyes brimming with tears, when he heaves to a stop beside him, gasping violently, his hands on his knees. He’d silence him with a righteous punch to the dick if he could only catch his breath.

“Well?” He asks, a moment later. Tommy holds out his phone to him.

“Minute three seconds,” he says.

“Fuck off,” Alfie breaths, but the timer indeed reads as Tommy says. Three fucking seconds. “This goddamn robe, too much resistance.”

Tommy laughs. “Nah, I must have hit the start a bit too soon,” he says, and closes the distance between them, wrapping an arm around Alfie’s waist and kissing him vigorously.

—

And so that’s how Alfie finally managed to get Tommy Shelby into his bed. Still fucking hates running. Hates it with unyielding passion and will never partake again. But, he figures, just that once, it had been worth it.

[elareine]

I have finished rereading all your jaytim and need mooooooore 😍 I got no specific prompt tho, just some cute Tim and Jason?

Aww, anon, you don’t know how happy your message made me! I… hope this is kinda what you had in mind. I don’t even know.

“You’re a prince.”

“I’m a frog.”

Jason sighs. “Tim. We’ve known each other for five years. I just walked for three weeks to find you here. You’re talking to me. You’re a fucking prince.”

Tim scrunches up his nose. It’s a weird and distinctly human motion on a frog, so he drops it quickly. “I am green, covered in slime, hopping around all day… I think all evidence points to frog. And it’s going to stay that way, thank you very much.”

Seriously, what’s Jason doing here? He’s a stablehand, for God’s sake. Or maybe a spy. Tim never quite figured that one out; he just knows that Jason was usually around, back when they lived in the same castle, and that he has a serious grudge against Bruce but never minded chatting to Tim about horses and books.

None of that gives him a right to drag Tim out of his pond and demand that he come back.

At least Jason seems to be just as annoyed about the whole thing as he is. “You know that the other way to break the curse is to throw you against a wall, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Sadly, you’re right. I had to promise your brother I wouldn’t.” Jason shakes his head. “Now I see why he made me swear three times.”

“Ouch. He really bound you.”

“Yes, he did. And that’s why—“ Jason moves more quickly than any human has a right to. “—I’m gonna take you with me.”

Tim squawks indignantly, caught in a giant fist. “Hey!”

“You’re coming back to Wayne Castle with me.”

“I’ll dry out.”

“Nope, you won’t. I brought a water tank.”

“That’s undignified.”

“Should’ve thought about that before letting yourself be turned into a frog.”

“I didn’t let myself—that was a witch!”

Jason’s face doesn’t express a single ounce of pity. “You’re the one who decided to hop to the most godforsaken pond in the kingdom. Should’ve just stayed where you were.”

“And go through another ‘True Love’s Kiss’ parade?” Tim shook his (tiny, green) head. “That’s just so gross and humiliating.”

“It’s really not. No-one’s gonna make out with you.” Jason rolls his eyes and leans forward, pressing the briefest of kisses to Tim’s head. “See? No big deal at all—“

Poof.  

And suddenly, Tim is a prince again. A very naked, very wet prince.

Jason drops him like a hot potato.

“Ouch.”

They stare at each other for a long, long time. Finally, Jason speaks.

“…is it too late to throw you back into the pond?”

“You know what, I’m wondering the exact same thing.”

(I’m taking prompts until the end of the year.)

[olivinesea]

Play it Right

a/n: I’m back! We’re in the single digit countdown to the end of this godforsaken school year aghhhh. So excited I can’t even tell you. Here’s some Hotch being sad but trying to be a good dad. ~3.3k

Hotch & Sean take Jack out for his birthday.

Memories of childhood were hard to come by, often only wisps of faded colors that he couldn’t completely resolve into images. There were light drenched afternoons with disembodied fingers pulling up blades of grass. Other partial scenes where dirt stained knees crawled into dark spaces where the world was cool and damp, following a trail of ants as they slowly dismantled some lifeless form. There was the sickened twist of fascination that accompanied the discovery, watching the way it was transformed from something into nothing with only the help of a few thousand tiny insects. Individually inconsequential in size, collectively a force of nature unstoppable as they reduced the abandoned shell into a small drift of feathers. The pale structure stirred and blown away easily by the air displaced when he reached down to take a single one. He dreamed about the ants coming to him, taking him away piece by piece until there was nothing left but traces of bone dust, dispersed by a midnight breeze. For any other child this would have been a nightmare but to him it was a promise. A promise of order and structure, an indication that time did in fact move forward and wasn’t trapped within stagnated pools hiding in the dim recesses of closets. That it wasn’t a continuous loop of threats and tears, of lies worn so smooth they slipped out of mouths unaware. It won’t happen again. He loves you. I love you.

It was far better to let his memories of childhood be lost. Easy enough to do with no one else who had been present at the time around to reinforce them with retelling. No one else to share with over a drink, bouncing stories back and forth, refreshing the dilapidated structures with a new coat of detail. As he let them dissolve they became defanged, passive enough to believe they were not even about him but possibly a story he’d once read and allowed to mingle with his reality. He had always been told he had a vivid imagination, maybe he could allow that to be true retroactively. It didn’t matter anymore anyway. He was still here and none of them were.

Except Sean.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose impatiently. They’d been waiting for Sean for at least half an hour. His brother, never punctual, was cutting it close once again. They were supposed to be taking Jack to the Mets game. Originally conceived by Sean, the idea was floated as a birthday gift for Jack’s tenth birthday—double digits, a big deal for any kid. Somehow this “gift” had become something Hotch had organized entirely, buying the tickets, getting Jack and himself to New York, filling in the rest of the weekend with kid-friendly activities. He’d made it so easy for Sean, all he had to do was show up and he wasn’t even getting that part right. He glanced at his watch again, resisting the urge to double check the time printed on the tickets. It was a baseball game, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if they missed the beginning.

He looked at Jack, sitting on the bench, fiddling with the laces of his glove. The glove was a hand-me-down of sorts. He had found it while helping clean out their parents’ house after their mother passed away. Sean swore it wasn’t his but it couldn’t be Hotch’s either, it was for someone right-handed. Plus, he couldn’t pull up any memories connected to it. He’d never been a team sport kind of kid. Too silent, too reserved to fit in with the loud boys who jostled each other playfully and banded together with unnecessary vitriol for the opposing teams. Hotch never understood team rivalries. Of all the many sources of hatred he’d learned, going to a different school didn’t make the list. It didn’t make any sense to create tension, to whip up emotions that had no basis. He knew enough of hate not to go looking for it where it didn’t need to exist.

Rather than argue with Sean about it, he’d taken the glove home and held on to it until Jack was big enough to use it. He wasn’t exactly sure why but he made up a story for it, weaving a collection of happy moments to accompany the time-softened leather. He told Jack the stories he felt he should have had, the kinds of stories fathers should tell their sons. He hadn’t bothered to do this when Jack was younger, hadn’t worried about his son’s perception of the past. But as Jack got older, as life took more and more away from him before he’d even had a chance to be aware of what he had, Hotch felt the need to give him pieces of a family history. He felt they should be stories that would make him feel normal, if that were at all possible with a life like this. Like he was any other kid with parents who were once kids themselves, chasing the same simple joys. He thought it might be comforting, I’ve known happiness and so can you.

Hotch would do anything to make Jack happy and even though it often made him crazy, this meant including Sean in their lives. His relationship with Sean had always been tense. There were several years after Haley’s death, after his absence in the aftermath, when things were beyond strained. Hotch, once he had surfaced enough to feel things, had burned with a white hot anger, tempting him to sever their tie permanently. It was an anger he didn’t trust himself with, strong enough to break through his control without a second’s notice. So he didn’t call, didn’t make the effort he knew was required to pull his brother back into his orbit. He never spoke of it of course but Jessica noticed. She heard Jack asking about his uncle, saw the muscle in Hotch’s jaw jump as he ground his teeth together to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. When she felt enough time had passed, she started to push him in little ways to reach out, to reconnect.

So he’d ended up here, once again, waiting for Sean, unsure if he’d even manage to remember his nephew’s birthday. Hotch was internally cursing his younger brother and considering leaving on the next train with or without him when the younger man appeared. He looked a little disheveled, hair sticking up in odd places, the shirt under his leather jacket not altogether clean. But he was smiling and calling their names, sweeping first Jack and then Hotch into a hug, almost certainly intending to irritate his brother with the uninvited contact. Hotch could smell the beer on his breath and gave him a sharp look. Sean shrugged it off and turned his attention to Jack.

“Alright kid, are you ready for this?” he ruffled the boy’s sandy blond hair as he asked. Jack grinned up at him, nodding his head a little too vigorously. Sean never failed to charm.

Hotch frowned at them. “Come on, let’s get going. We’re cutting it a little close.”

Sean scoffed and made a face at Jack, mimicking Hotch’s serious features, only to stick his tongue out and make Jack giggle. “Relax, it’ll be fine.” He punched Hotch’s shoulder, earning another glare, but they all started walking toward the platform. Hotch followed just half a step behind, keeping a close eye on Jack in the thickening crowd. He watched Sean weave confidently through people, happily becoming the lead adventurer. Hotch, who had regretted this from the moment he’d agreed, felt his stomach twisting on itself, anticipating what kind of unnecessary chaos Sean would lead them into today.

They made it to the ballpark without too much difficulty. With some shuffling, they arranged themselves in the hard stadium seats, Jack between the two men. This checked two boxes for Hotch—in the middle Jack was both protected and protecting him from being too close to his brother. If Sean had been a little tipsy when he’d shown up he could now be considered fully inebriated. He hadn’t stopped drinking beer since they got there. Hotch, already on edge, was exasperated by this behavior. However, his pointed glares got him nothing but a grin and a lifted glass waved in his direction.

Jack didn’t notice, just happy to see his Uncle Sean who was always so fun and wild. He was the only family of his dad’s that he had ever met so there was something extra special about this man, so different from his dad but somehow his nearest relative. Jack was chattering to him about kid things, filling Sean in on all the art projects and field trips and other critical moments of his life. He proudly showed off the glove, talking about how his dad told him of Sean’s skill as a baseball player and how he said he used to go watch his games and cheer him on.

Sean almost spit out beer he laughed so hard at this information. “You’re kidding. Is that the kind of BS your dad is feeding you?” He looked over at Hotch, who might have been trying to literally kill him with the look he was directing his way. “That damn glove was never mine and you know it Aaron.”

Unrelenting in his disapproval, Hotch shrugged slightly, “Maybe I have some of the details mixed up.”

“Details?” He looked back at Jack, “That glove was your dad’s and for some stupid reason he tried to throw it away one day and your grandpa kicked the shit out of him for it.”

“Sean!”

“What?” Sean was an expert at faking innocence. Jack was wide eyed, looking between the two adults, not understanding what was happening.

“Can I speak with you?” Hotch’s words were clipped, gritting them out between clenched teeth.

“Oooh Agent Hotchner, yessir,” Sean sat up straight, faking a snap to attention but the effect was lost as he swayed slightly. Hotch pressed lips together and grabbed Sean by the jacket shoulder, pulling him to his feet and pushing him out into the aisle.

“What are you thinking? Why would you say something like that?” Hotch tried not to raise his voice but he was barely succeeding.

“You think it’s better for him to believe in some bullshit you made up?” Sean spat back at him.

“Why not? I’m protecting him. He’s lived through enough, he deserves to have some happy stories.”

“So you lie to him,” Sean said, voice flat.

“It’s not lying.”

Sean wasn’t playing anymore, he was angry, every bit as angry as Hotch. His face was flushed from alcohol and emotion. He looked directly at Hotch, making sure his words sank in. “It is lying, just like you lied to me.”

“I never lied to you,” Hotch protested but the words barely made it out of his mouth.

Sean laughed meanly. “You lied to me every fucking day in that house Aaron. I saw everything, heard everything only for you to turn around and tell me it was all fine, that our dad was a good man.” He paused for a moment, looking down at his clenched fists. “I thought I was fucking crazy.”

“I just wanted to protect you.”

“Bullshit. You were being selfish, just like you are now. You think you can just change the facts and no one will know, that it won’t affect anyone else. I have bad news for you: we don’t all just exist in this world you made up in your head. Jack is a real person, I am a real person. Refusing to admit what was happening didn’t make it any less real, it just meant that I was alone with it. Just a little kid alone trying to understand why someone who was supposed to take care of me would hurt my brother and why, why my brother would lie about it. Did you think I was stupid?”

Hotch didn’t know how to respond, stunned by the bitterness of Sean’s words.

“I’m not going to sit around while you lie to someone else about our shitty father. What’s even the point of protecting him anymore?”

Hotch frowned, “I wanted you to have a normal life, a normal relationship with him. He liked you. I thought if I could keep that side of him away, you could have the kind of father I saw other kids have. I thought I could give you that.”

“You’re an arrogant bastard. Always have been.”

“Please, Sean,” he tried to find more words, some way to make Sean understand. He’d only ever wanted to keep him safe.  

“I won’t lie about this Aaron and you shouldn’t either, Jack’s going to learn everything someday, whether you like it or not. Do you want him to be able to come to you? Or do you want him to be afraid, afraid he can’t trust you to tell him the truth?”

Hotch hung his head. “I’m sorry Sean. I didn’t realize—”

Sean cut him off, “I’m done with this.” Clumsily he pulled something out of his pocket. “Here, give this to Jack, tell him I said happy birthday.”

Hotch wanted to ask him to stay but he’d already turned, walking up the stairs, grabbing the railing every once in a while to correct his balance. Hotch looked at the coin in his hand, a Kennedy half-dollar, remembered giving it to Sean on his tenth birthday. It was the same coin his father had given him when he turned 10, just before Sean was born. He remembered the time of his mother’s pregnancy as being particularly bad. His father had been careful with her, solicitous even, trying to ensure that this baby, this wanted baby, would make it safely into the world. But his temper hadn’t gone anywhere, he simply focused it all on Aaron. He'd had to miss a lot of school that fall.

But then, for no reason discernible to him, his father’s mood had shifted a couple months before the baby was due. He started coming home early, bringing gifts for both of them. Some were even wrapped (by the shop clerk no doubt, but wrapped). The glove had been one of these gifts. It hadn’t fit him right but he had said thank you and hoped he could keep this version of his dad around as long as possible. It lasted until Sean was about six months old. The first night his dad came home drunk and angry, yelling at his mom who just stood there holding Sean, too petrified to move away. Seeing that, the frailty and futility in his mother’s stance, he knew that he had to get in between them. He knew then he would do anything he could to protect his baby brother. Sean was the most perfect thing he had ever seen and he intended to keep it that way. He’d done what he could but all he really knew how to do was lie. It was all he’d ever been taught.

The glove became a nightmare that repeatedly came back to haunt him. His dad would go through fits of wanting to be a “normal family.” He would drag them out to the lake for picnics, would insist Aaron play catch with him in the yard. But he was never coordinated enough and it would always end with his dad frustrated and cursing him. When he was thirteen he started to experience overwhelming fits of anger. They came on suddenly, could be set off by anything. His vision would blur and he would feel a desperate need to lash out against the brutally indifferent world around him. During one of these fits, he threw the glove in the garbage, sick of being humiliated by it. Then, the emotion gone as quickly as it appeared, he promptly forgot about it.

Unfortunately, being an angry adolescent did not lead to the smartest decisions. His father found it in the trash and immediately went looking for his ungrateful son. He’d found him with Sean building tiny forts out of sticks in the back yard. Aaron hadn’t even had a chance to remember that he’d thrown the thing away before it was being used to leave marks on his exposed skin. Hotch wondered that Sean could even remember it, he had been so young. He wondered, too, how he could have forgotten, the sting of his failure to protect his brother from that knowledge making itself clearly felt now.

The coin, however, had been a treasured gift, inspiring him to begin a collection that he hid carefully in the back of a drawer. Something he could pull out and remind himself that there had been good moments. That he hadn’t just imagined them. Looking at his coins offered rare moments of peace in the continuous turbulence of the Hotchner household. When he was twenty and Sean only ten, Aaron had felt guilty for not being around as much. The kid had recently lost his father and was living with a quickly deteriorating mother. So he gave Sean the original half-dollar, hoping that his little brother would be able to find the same comfort in it, maybe even develop his own interest in the hobby. Unsurprisingly, coin collecting never caught on with Sean. He was too loud, too rough to spend hours inside, inspecting tiny characters and noticing slight variations in markings. Hotch had assumed Sean had lost the coin years ago, had even felt a little sad thinking about it being lost. Sean was many things but he never failed to surprise Hotch. He shook his head, clearing the lingering thoughts, needing to focus on what he was going to say to Jack. He turned to walk back to their seats.

Jack watched his approach over his shoulder, “Where’s Uncle Sean?”

“He wasn’t feeling well, he said to wish you happy birthday.”

“You made him leave,” Jack’s small face was contorted into an accusing scowl.

Hotch shook his head, ready to commit to this stretching of the truth but he stopped himself. “He was upset,” he started then paused. He really didn’t want to explain this story.

“Why?”

Hotch rubbed the coin with his thumb, “Well, he didn’t like the story I told you about the glove.”

“Why not?”

“It isn’t the truth and he thought that it was wrong of me to lie.”

Jack was quiet, thinking about this. Hotch waited patiently for him to process. “What’s the true story?”

He hesitated, “It’s not a very nice story Jack.”

“But it’s the truth?”

Hotch nodded, the muscles around his lungs constricting too tightly to speak. Jack looked too serious for a ten year old. “Then that’s the story I want to hear.”

A mix of emotion spread through him, partly anger at Sean for forcing his hand, but also pride in his son’s strength. He sighed, “And I’ll tell you, but not today ok buddy? Today is about you and about good memories.”

“Ok Dad but you have to promise.”

Hotch smiled, “I promise. Here, Uncle Sean wanted me to give you this, it’s your birthday gift.”

Jack took the offered object and looked closely, trying to figure out what it was. The metal was aged making the words hard to read through the patina. “It’s…old?”

Hotch laughed. “It is very old, you’re right.”

“What is it?”

“Well, do you want to hear the story of where it came from?”

“Only if it’s true,” Jack replied, a little smile revealing that he was teasing his dad. When had he gotten so mature?

“Of course, nothing but from now on,” Hotch held up his hand in mock solemnity. Without warning, Jack leaned over and wrapped his small arms as far as they would go around Hotch, pressing his face into his chest. Hotch hugged him back, thankful that despite everything, every stupid mistake and unforgivable failure, he had managed to get this one thing right.