#I was ranting about this subject last night to my friend and I can’t let it go

[no1ryomafan]

The urge to do a breakdown of arma and new ryoma specifically to try to understand why new ryoma is not at all acknowledged compared to arma despite new having far more screen time and being explored as a character then arma is so strong even though the answer boils down to two things: “art style preference” and “no one cares about ryoma as a actual nuance character” but both of those points makes me so mad💀

[imaginespazzi]

Part 3: Shades of Grey

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

That's the thing about illicit affairs (they lie and they lie and they lie)

(In which a masochistic writer makes things difficult for herself and makes things even messier than they were before)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, a little bit of Hurt/Comfort and Fluff as always

Words: 7.2K (nice and short as always)

TW: Explicit Sexual Content (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Cheating

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I feel like I'm doing a pretty good job of sticking to my deadlines, who woulda thunk it? Fun fact, I'm at ~ 50 google-doc pages with this fic and despite my constant "trying to write less" rants, I'm actually lowkey proud of that. Anyways, there's a pretty clear hint (I am not a subtle person) as to why what happens at the end happens and if you pick up on it, I promise it'll save you from losing your minds till I write part 4. Also a couple of logistical details about the Cayman Islands are probably off but it's what worked so it's what I did, just pretend lol. Per usual, I did edit, there's probably still typos any way, feel free to point them out. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading and have a wonderful rest of your week lovelies!

August 2021

The fight was inevitable but neither of them can tell you what really lit the flame. One second they had been fine (well as fine as two girls who knew tonight was their last night in a while could be), the next they were hurling bullets at each other. There’s a subconscious part of Azzi’s brain that tells her to grab Paige and duck for cover, to preserve whatever little bit of friendship they can. But her whole body vibrates with anger as Paige’s words crash around her like a tsunami, drowning out the good angel on her shoulder that’s pleading with her to stop. 

“It’s a good thing really. You and your non-existent nerves would have never survived playing for UConn,” Paige sneers, and that mean smirk on her face just doesn’t quite fit right, “I don’t know what I was thinking with that honestly. You’re not built like that.”

Azzi flinches, eyes blazing, “some of us want to be more than just another good UConn player.”

“That’s what all the people not good enough to play for UConn say,” Paige retorts bitterly and Azzi doesn’t think she knows this girl standing in front of her, one whose words are aimed to make her cry instead of laugh. 

“Not good enough and yet you still wanted me on your team.”

“Nah you know what, my bad, I didn’t realise you’d fucking stab me in the back like that, ” Paige hisses, “you’re a fake as fuck friend and you’d probably make a shit teammate.”

Azzi’s never had a heart attack. She doesn’t even fully think she knows what a heart attack really is. But she’s certain this pain in her chest can’t possibly be anything less than one. It starts at her heart and then spreads to her lungs and then floods through her body, until she can’t move, she can’t breathe. 

“You don’t mean that,” she whispers. 

Paige hesitates, as if suddenly aware of the fragility of the moment, her voice considerably softer when she speaks but she doesn’t take it back, “ real friends choose each other.”

“Oh my god,” Azzi laughs, it’s the worst thing she could do in the moment and Paige’s eyes flash with anger, “you’re so fucking full of yourself.”

“Watch your fucking mouth-”

“Don’t you even dare. You say all that shit to me and now you can’t hear some of it back? Contrary to what you might think Paige, my whole life doesn’t revolve around you. My decision for where to spend the next four fucking years, does not revolve around you,” Azzi’s voice rises with each word. 

Fighting is cathartic in a way. They’ve spent almost a year delicately tip-toeing around the subject, growing further and further apart and yet still holding on for dear life. And Azzi doesn’t want to let go, but everything feels burning hot, and her hands are starting to blister. 

“Oh you’ve made that very clear,” Paige bites back, “you’ve made it very clear just how little I mean to you.”

“Because I chose a different school? That’s all it took Paige, seriously? That’s all it took for you to call our friendship fake?”

“No what it took Azzi was you being a fucking liar.”

“I didn’t lie about anything.”

Paige scoffs, her voice taking on a pitchy mocking tone, “ ‘I’d love to play with you Paige’, ‘being on the same team would be nice P’,  all of that fucking bullshit when you didn’t mean any of it.”

“Oh we’re playing that game,” Azzi seethes, “how about ‘Az I’d support you no matter what’ huh? Where did all of that go?”

“Maybe if you didn’t make stupid decisions then.”

“No, actually choosing not to play with you might have been my smartest decision yet,” as soon as the words are out, there’s a part of Azzi that wishes she could wrench them back in. 

“Right,” Paige’s voice is eerily quiet now, “well I hope that works out well for you then. Go to UCLA Azzi, have a great fucking life and stay the fuck away from mine.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Azzi takes a cautious step towards the blonde and almost immediately, Paige steps backwards, her expression suddenly blank. The change to indifference is somehow worse than the previous malice, “Paige-”

“Fuck this, I’m going home,” Paige says resolutely, her fingers fidgeting with themselves as she reaches for her phone and wallet. 

“We need to talk this out, we need to try and fix this,” Azzi all but pleads, trying to position herself in front of the persistent older girl who’s trying to make her way to the door. 

“I don’t know if I want to fucking fix this,” Paige yells, shaking away Azzi’s hand on her shoulder, “I don’t know if it’s worth it,” her voice breaks as she says the next words, “I don’t even think  I wanna be friends.”

When Azzi’s 14, Paige Bueckers dribbles through a USA basketball camp court straight into her life and teaches her all about how one person can come into your life and carve out a permanent shelf. When Azzi’s 16, Paige’s casual smiles and not-so-insignificant touches teach her all about the complicated space in-between just friends and something more. When Azzi’s 18, Paige says those words, ones that sound a lot like giving up, and teaches Azzi that sometimes in life, even the people you thought would never make you feel this way, are the ones who'll break you the most. And that’s the day Azzi makes a promise to herself that she’ll never give someone that part of herself again, unaware that when she’s 20, Paige will teach her that some promises are meant to be broken. 

***

July 2023

Azzi doesn’t know what god she pissed off to get herself into this position, stuck in a booth with Zoe on one side and Paige on the other. Her girlfriend’s left hand is placed firmly on her thigh and Azzi has to fight the vehement urge to shake it away because Zoe’s normally soft, sweet touch feels itchy and heavy. But the way Paige’s biceps are pressed against hers might be even worse. Every time the blonde moves a little, the sliding of her smooth skin against Azzi’s arms, sends a jolt of electricity through her veins. And Azzi doesn’t know when she became that girl, the girl who already has someone to hold her but is desperately craving somebody else’s touch. 

When people’s girlfriends surprise them with an unexpected visit, the appropriate reaction is to be overwhelmed with happiness. Except since she’d met her, Azzi’s summers have always belonged to Paige. With them having lived in separate states most of their lives, it was the one time they got to be with each other for an extended period of time. It was an unspoken rule really, one that they had subconsciously still followed the year before when Azzi had shown up at Paige’s door, even if they’d only gotten the last couple of weeks of the season; summer was theirs. So, when Zoe had shown up that afternoon with a bright smile and shining eyes, all Azzi had been able to register was a sense of loss as Paige pulled her hand out of Azzi’s. 

Introductions had been somewhat awkward. Her parents knew of Zoe, but hadn’t met her yet. They were nice of course, her dad pulling the shorter girl into one of his bear hugs and her mom giving her a warm smile. Jon and José were more awkward, nodding their greetings but making no move to actually welcome her. Paige had managed to muster up a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and shake the other girl’s outstretched hand. And then there was Drew, whose normally goofy smile seemed to have disappeared. 

“Who are you?” the young boy had asked quizzically, his eyebrows crinkling together. 

“Oh umm, I’m uh- Azzi’s girlfriend,” Zoe had replied, the last word causing Paige to involuntarily flinch. 

Drew had looked over to Azzi then, his eyes wide and accusing, “you can’t be Azzi’s girlfriend.”

“Is that so?” Zoe hummed, clearly not taking him seriously. 

“It is,” Drew had said petulantly, ignoring Paige’s warning squeeze, “she’s Paige’s.”

The silence after had been deafening, as Azzi tried to stop herself from choking on air. Eventually Paige had regained her senses first, apologising for her younger brother’s lack of filter (“he says stupid things all the time”) and then Azzi’s dad had swooped in before things could possibly get any more awkward, proposing that they all go out to dinner. And that’s how Azzi has ended up here, shuffled in a booth, opposite her parents, with Paige on one side and Zoe on the other. Life really and truly isn’t on her side these days. 

“So girls, what are y’all pizza orders?” Tim asks jovially. Azzi’s brothers and Drew, desperate to go enjoy the sun (and avoid Zoe), had already told them their orders before zooming to the park right outside the restaurant. 

“Oh uh- Az you wanna share a Margherita pizza?”

“Azzi and I’ll just have our usual.”

It’s as if the world wants Azzi to suffer as both Zoe and Paige immediately look at her expectantly. The girl in question keeps her eyes focused on the menu in front of her, unsure how to best handle this predicament by doing anything other than maybe just running out of the restaurant. 

“What’s your usual?” Zoe asks, her voice all curiosity and no ill-intent. 

“Grilled chicken and bacon with spinach and onions.”

“But Azzi doesn’t like onions, she says they make-”

“They make her breath smell I know,” there’s a hard edge to Paige’s voice, “but she-”

“She can’t pick them off. She can’t pick anything off of her pizza because it takes-”

“It takes the cheese off, I know that too. That’s not what I was going to say. She doesn’t eat them because she thinks they make her breath smell but she does like them. It’s just-,” Paige’s eyes flare with mischief, “she only eats them around people who are close to her. Guess you’re not quite there yet.”

Since Azzi had mustered up the courage to finally tell Paige about Zoe, right before summer break started, Paige had been nothing but respectful, supportive even. Until tonight apparently and Azzi doesn’t even know to react to the fact that her best friend has started a pissing contest over fucking onions. 

“Right,” Zoe bites her lips, her ever-present smile slipping slightly as she slowly pries the menu out of Azzi’s hands and looks at her with hopefully eyes, “but we’ll get the Margherita tonight babe?”

“I-” and Azzi really should say yes, side with Zoe like the good girlfriend she is, except, well, all she can think about is that Paige hasn’t smiled since the California girl had arrived in D.C., “I think um- I’ll stick to my usual Zo, I’m sorry.”

She’s a terrible girlfriend, because immediately Zoe’s smile fades, and Azzi barely notices it, too busy watching Paige’s grin light up her face. Her baby blue eyes sparkle as if she’s won some important battle and it’s not even dark yet, but Azzi swears it feels like the stars have come out. 

“Okay,” Tim says slowly, looking between the three younger girls, as he waives over the waitress, “if that’s decided then.”

The issue with Paige being pretty, is that nobody’s really immune to it, including the cheerful waitress that practically skips over to serve them. Her eyes glaze over a little bit as they roam across the blonde’s face and then to her arms before drifting down to her torso. Paige’s tank top doesn’t leave much to the imagination, exposing both her muscled biceps and toned torso and Azzi doesn’t need an x-ray to know the widely appropriate thoughts going through the waitress’s head. The feral roar of mine takes birth in her stomach and the quieting whisper of she’s not does little to subdue it. 

“I’m Libby,” the waitress says, tongue darting across her lips, eyes solely focused on Paige, “and I’ll be your server today.”

Libby collects orders dutifully, polite and agreeable, but doesn’t once fully look away from the blonde, practically drooling once she finally gets to her, “and what can I get for you to drink babe?” 

Azzi’s not sure whether it’s the sultry tone or the nickname that gets Paige’s attention, but all of a sudden her best friend is staring up at the waitress with her own flirty smile. She likes to think she’s not a particularly violent person, but Azzi thinks she might end up in jail for homicide tonight. 

“Well babe,” Paige winks, Azzi wants to die, “what would you recommend?”

Libby smirks, clearly feeling triumphant as she leans on the table, one hand reaching out to brush Paige’s forearm, “sex on the beach.”

Several things happen at once. Tim chokes on a breadstick. Katie immediately thumps him on the back. Zoe lets out a laugh. Azzi’s nails break the skin of her palm, drawing blood as she fists both of hands. And then-

“She has a girlfriend,” it’s a blatantly untrue but all Azzi can think about is stopping this  random girl from eye-fucking her Paige. It does the trick, Libby’s eyes go comically wide, as she steps back from the table, from Paige. 

“She does?” Tim asks. Next to him, Katie, shoots her daughter a knowing look that veers on the edge of disappointment. 

Azzi stutters under the heat of Paige’s glare, the blonde clearly unamused by her lie, “I uh- I mean um- it’s not official but um yeah,” she doesn’t even sound convincing to herself, “I’m uh- I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

She practically shoves Paige out of the booth so she can climb out of it herself, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her heart hammers in her chest and she tries to block out the sound of Paige’s being questioned by her dad, as she rushes into the restroom. 

There’s no amount of water she could splash on her face to make this heat go away, but she tries anyway, unsure of when the tap water starts to blend in with the tears streaming down her face. The unsettling anger of how dare she flirt with another girl beating in her heart is replaced by the guilt of i’m not allowed to feel this way thrashing around her rib cage. It hurts all the same, as Azzi clutches her chest, trying to even out her breathing.

She doesn’t hear the door open or close until, “What the fuck was that?”

“Get out,” Azzi whispers, closing her eyes and leaning her head on the mirror, “just give me a second okay?”

“Oh no, no, no, you owe me a huge fucking explanation right now,” Paige hisses, “what the fuck was that bullshit? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“It was a joke-” before Azzi can even finish the sentence, there’s a hand on her biceps, forcing her to turn around. When she opens her eyes, Paige’s face is far too close to her own and when she tries to move back, she’s trapped with the cool edge of the sink. It’s too much, the proximity, the tension, the lingering touch of Paige’s fingers curled around her arm. 

“Stop lying,” Paige bites out. 

“It just slipped out babe,” and fuck, Azzi absolutely hadn’t meant to add that last part, hadn’t meant to make it so obvious what exactly had triggered her little outburst. Realisation flashes across Paige’s face, as she takes a step back, letting go of Azzi, and the distance should be freeing, but instead it just makes her feel lost.  

“That’s what this is about?” the blonde asks in disbelief. 

“Yes- no- I don’t know, okay,” Azzi’s voice is high-pitched, “I’m sorry okay. I’ll tell the waitress it was a joke,” she lets out a humourless laugh, “I didn’t mean to fucking cockblock you.”

“Cockblock me? Dude I wasn’t trying to fuck the waitress what the fuck?”

“Could’ve fooled me babe,” Azzi sneers. 

Something menacing flashes in Paige’s eyes, “stop calling me that.”

“What? You don’t like me calling you babe. You didn’t seem to have a problem when it was her.” 

“Oh my fucking god Azzi,” Paige throws her hands up, “you don’t get to do this. Not when your girlfriend is sitting right there.”

The reminder of Zoe is like being splashed with cold water and Azzi feels everything inside of her freeze. She grips the edge of the sink, trying to find some semblance of balance as Paige continues to glare at her. 

“For the past few hours, I have had to hear your girlfriend call you every fucking nickname in the book. I have had to watch her kiss you and move your hair back and grip your fucking knee under the table,” with every sentence, Paige inches closer and closer, until she’s accentuating every word by pushing her index finger into Azzi’s chest, “and you can’t even fucking deal with me calling some other girl babe?”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers when Paige’s voice breaks on the last word. Their faces are so close, she can feel the other girl’s uneven breathing all over her skin. And it takes everything in her to not cave in and reach a hand out to caress away the tear that's threatening to fall from the blonde’s tearline. 

“It’s been hell Azzi,” Paige spits out, “so you don’t get to be upset if I want to fuck someone-”

Something snaps and before Paige can complete the offending sentence, before she can imprint an image that will forever haunt Azzi’s mind, Azzi silences all the warning bells of why she really shouldn’t, and pulls her best friend into a searing kiss. Immediately, Paige’s hands come to rest against Azzi’s hips, pressing her firmly against the edge of the sink. It’s as if they’re trying to meld their bodies together, both of them gripping each other as close as possible. Outside, it’s a summer evening of clear blue skies, but here in this random restaurant restroom, lightning strikes.

Paige bites at Azzi’s bottom lip and then traces her tongue over the bruise she’s created, smirking when it elicits a gasp from the younger girl. Lips still firmly moving against Azzi’s, her hands work expertly on the buttons of Azzi’s tight shorts. The sensation of everything Paige is all-consuming and Azzi feels like she’s drunk on the taste of her best friend’s skin, as she moves away from Paige’s lips, to pepper kisses on her neck, before moving down to suck a mark into her collarbone. Mine, mine, mine. 

“Fuck Az,” Paige moans when Azzi’s teeth grate against her skin and it’s the brunette’s turn to smirk. But her cockiness is short-lived when Paige’s fingers finally find their way into her now unbuttoned shorts. They press down on her clit through her underwear, making her whine. 

A cry of “Paige,” escapes her lips when the blonde slides Azzi’s panties to the side, her middle and index finger beginning to rub circles around the younger girl’s clit in a tantalisingly slow rhythm. 

“So wet, so fucking wet for me,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with want, as she brings her free hand to cup Azzi’s jaw, forcing her best friend to look her in the eyes. It scares Azzi, the sheer amount of emotion she can see swirling in the blonde’s eyes. There’s lust and then there’s something else, another l-word that she can’t bring herself to acknowledge, knowing it’ll ruin her, ruin them. 

“Please,” Azzi whispers against Paige’s mouth, as the older girl’s fingers slip from her clit to tease against her soaking entrance, dipping into her folds but not giving her what she wants. 

“If you want something baby,” Paige traces Azzi’s lips with her thumb, “you have to ask for it.”

Azzi's hands moved away from where they had been firmly gripping Paige’s waist, to wrap around her neck. She bites softly against Paige’s left earlobe, eliciting a low groan, before bringing her lips as close to the blonde’s ears as she can, “I want you to fuck me.”

It’s all it takes, Paige finally gives Azzi what her body’s so desperately craving, for far longer than she’s willing to admit, pumping two fingers into her pussy, while her thumb stimulates her clit. And fuck, Paige knows exactly what she’s doing, fingers curling in the exact right spots and Azzi feels like she’s floating or flying or falling, maybe all of the above. 

“Please, please, please,” Azzi babbles incoherently, burying her face in the crevice of Paige’s neck, tears beginning to blur her vision. Because, it’s too much, the ecstasy, the fact that it’s Paige behind the ecstasy, the fact that this is better than her wildest fantasies. 

“Doing so good for me baby,” Paige praises, fingers starting to move faster, “taking my fingers so fucking well Az, think you can handle one more?”

Azzi whines in response. Paige pushes in a third finger, both of them letting out identical sighs of pleasure. She’s slow for a second, giving Azzi time to adjust but-

“Fuck, Paige, faster, please,” the younger girls moans, grinding fervently, desperately,  against Paige’s fingers, trying to create more fiction. 

“Anything for you Az,” Paige whispers, and even in the high of the moment, Azzi knows those words are about more than sex, “whatever you want.”

As Paige’s fingers begin to move at a rapid pace, curling around her g-spot, over and over and over, Azzi can feel that familiar pressure building in her stomach. Her fingers claw at Paige’s neck in warning, too worked up for words. Paige nudge’s Azzi’s face out of her neck, free hand cupping the younger girl's jaw. 

“Come apart for me baby,” she whispers before pressing their lips together. 

Azzi’s hips stutter as her orgasm rolls all over her, pussy clenching around Paige’s fingers, as she moans into the older girl's mouth. Spent, her body goes limp, her best friend’s  firm grip pressing her against the edge of the sink, the only thing anchoring her and keeping her uprights. Paige slowly pulls her fingers out of Azzi’s pants and the loss of contact feels wrong. It’s instinct really, as Azzi reaches for Paige’s hand and brings it up to her mouth, sucking each of the older girl’s fingers clean one by one, and it’s worth it for the way Paige looks wrecked. 

“Az-” she begins softly, eyes filled with questions but before Azzi can even think about any answers- 

“Azzi,” reality crashes and burns around the two girls as Zoe’s voice calls out for her girlfriend. The sound of footsteps gets closer and closer. Panic takes the place of pleasure as Paige and Azzi jump apart from each other and the realisation of their surroundings hits both of them at the same time. Sweat sheens against Paige’s collarbone and Azzi’s lips are bruised, her eyes still glazy. Their identical dishevelled demeanour gives away far too much. Just as the restroom door creaks open a little, Azzi dives into one of the stalls. 

“Oh, hey Paige,” guilt pools in Azzi’s stomach at the sound of Zoe’s innocent voice, as she presses her ear against the stall door,  “is Azzi in here? She’s been gone for like 20 minutes.”

“She- she was,” Paige stutters, and Azzi hates herself even more for putting her best friend in this position, “I-uh I think she um- she wanted some fresh air.”

“Ah okay, I’ll go try and find her,” Zoe pauses, “are you okay? You look a little flustered.”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Paige assures in a high-pitched voice, “just uh miss my girlfriend you know.”

Azzi flinches at the lie. She’d made such a fucking mess today. The lying, the cheating, all of it was so out of character and all of a sudden, she feels dirty. Tears brim in her eyes as she begins to process the gravity of what she’d done. And perhaps the worst part of it, is that she can’t find it in herself to fully regret it. If she could turn back time, she doesn’t know if she’d do anything different. Because when it comes to Paige, Azzi’s fine living in shades of grey. 

“Yeah, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Zoe says slowly. 

There’s a pause and Azzi knows the words neither did I are floating in Paige's mind before she answers, “yeah, it’s uh- it’s new.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you,” the sincerity in Zoe’s words hit like stones, rupturing whatever built up image of i am a good person Azzi had ever had of herself

“Thank you,” Paige replies quietly. 

“It just-,” Zoe draws in a breath, “Azzi she- she worries about you a lot you know. Even before- you know- when you guys weren’t- you know? Like I think she thinks about you a lot,” there’s an unmistakable wistfulness in Zoe’s voice, “ like- if you’re doing okay and all that. And I don’t- I don’t even know you but I know she wants you to be happy- and- and I want whatever Azzi wants- so- so if you’re happy- that’s good.”

“That’s- that’s really sweet of you,” Paige sounds as guilty as Azzi feels.

There’s quiet for a minute until, “do you think I make her happy? Does she- does she talk about me?”

Zoe’s voice is laced in insecurity and hopefulness and Azzi wishes she’d never brought this girl into her mess in the first place. The sun-kissed Californian had been a classmate who had accidentally stumbled upon Azzi mid-breakdown on a random Thursday. One second she was hesitant, the next she was spilling her woes to a stranger, tired of holding it in. And from then on Zoe had been on a mission to just be there. She’d never hidden her intention, always clear that she wanted more than friendship and Azzi, despite knowing that her heart didn’t really have space for anyone else, had let her loneliness be her guide and given in to the urge to just let someone hold her. But the truth is that while every other second spent with Zoe was filled with mentions of Paige’s name, every moment spent with Paige was never about anything else other than her. 

“She- she does, she seems happy,” Paige can’t bring herself to say the with you. The blonde sounds defeated, as if the admission that Azzi could possibly be happy with someone else has taken everything out of her. 

“Good, it means a lot,” Zoe’s voice is lighter now, like there’s a smile hidden in it, “especially from you. Thank you. I’ll uh- I’ll go see if I can find her.”

Azzi waits for the sound of footsteps shuffling and then the sound of the door clicking behind Zoe, before prying herself out of the stall. Paige is hunched over the sink, face buried in her hands. And the words my fault, my fault, my fault imprint themselves all over Azzi’s heart. 

“Your girlfriend’s looking for you,” Paige says, not bothering to look up. 

“Paige I-”

“Just go Azzi, we’ll just” Paige scoffs, “we’ll just play pretend again,” the walls are up again and Paige is unreachable in her castle built from the ashes of the purity in their friendship that they’d just sacrified for a fucking quickie in a barely-lit restroom. And maybe Azzi should say something, maybe she should stay and see if she can fight her way into Paige’s castle. But Azzi’s no knight in shining armour, not Paige’s, not Zoe’s, not anybody else’s because knights don’t cheat and they don’t lie and they don’t break people’s hearts. So she listens to what her best friend says, she walks out, and she pretends she doesn’t hear the sob that’s let out behind her. 

***

November 2023

UCLA is up on UConn, it should be a pretty momentous occasion and it is. Azzi’s had one of the best games of her career to get her team mere seconds away from getting their first win over the powerhouse. For UConn, so has Paige, except there’s nothing but frustration gleaming in the blonde’s face. The game had been bad for UConn, the cracks created by injuries on full display. And the competitor in Azzi was more than happy to take advantage of that. But the part of her that was Paige’s best friend was stuck on how tired Paige looked. Someone fucking help her, Azzi had thought throughout the game, she literally just came back from injury. 

The outcome of the game is clear and Azzi’s already on the bench getting rest, cheering for her own team of course, but keeping a subtle eye on what’s happening with Paige. Azzi’s eyes follow Paige as she’s finally subbed out. The older girl walks to the end of her own bench, hands coming to rest on her thighs as she hangs her head, face scrunched up in irritation. Paige does that thing where it's like she’s trying to bite of all the skin on her lips and Azzi has the familiar urge to march over and make her stop, preferably by kissing her, not that that’s a thought she’s allowed to have. 

It’s ironic really, the 2,943 miles that had once been the reason they’d fallen apart, is the only thing holding them together. Being out of each other’s reach makes it easier to ignore what had happened over the summer, makes it easier to not give into that same vice all over again. And it makes sense, Azzi thinks, because since she’s met her, whenever Paige had just been a blurry goofy face on her screen, they’d been good at the just friends thing. The moment they could touch though, that’s when lines got blurry. As much as Azzi’s not sure how she survived a year without Paige, she’s even less sure about how she’d survived that one year where they’d practically lived in each other’s skins. 

Things in the handshake line are somewhat icy with both teams being overprotective of their star players. Muhl’s eyes are full of disdain once she reaches Azzi and Arnold barely shakes her hand, only doing as much as she has to, to keep up appearance. Azzi’s teammates aren’t any better, Angelica smiles at everyone until she reaches Paige, and Kiki rolls her eyes at the point guard. But it doesn’t matter what anybody else does, not when Paige practically falls into Azzi’s arms, her tense body finally beginning to relax a little. 

“You did good,” Azzi whispers into the blonde’s hair, tightening her hold on the other girl as she soothingly strokes her back.

Paige scoffs, burying her face further into Azzi’s neck, “you did good, I did what I had to.”

They break apart reluctantly, the shutter of cameras ruining the intimacy of the moment. Their hands hold on a touch longer but the minute they finally slip away from each other, the familiar feeling of i’m tired of missing you that seems to always be lingering within Azzi, prickles against her heart. 

*** 

UConn and UCLA don’t have a rivalry but if you were sat at the hotel restaurant in the Cayman Islands on a lovely November evening, you wouldn’t know that. There’s multiple women’s basketball teams present at the restaurant and everyone’s mingling with each other but the Bruins and Huskies seem determined to avoid each other at all costs. At one point, Angelica and Muhl, of course it would be them, accidentally bump into each other and Azzi holds her breath at the icy glare shared between them. She’s not sure how she and Paige ended up with something akin to the women’s basketball version of the Montagues and the Capulets, but it seems fitting with the way her life’s been going, that it would eventually start to take the shape of a tragedy.

It’s around 10pm when Azzi notices Paige moving in the direction of the door, towards the beach. Azzi hesitates for a moment, knowing her need to go after the blonde isn't just one born out of a best friend’s concern, but it’s Paige. It doesn’t matter if there’s inevitable destruction on the other side, it’s Paige and when it’s Paige, Azzi will follow. 

Paige’s silhouette on the beach, glowing underneath the moonlight, with waves crashing onto the shore beyond her, is straight out of a dream. Azzi’s not an artist by any means, but she thinks if she were, this moment would be her muse. The sea wind causes Paige’s hair to flutter with it. Her eyes are closed in concentration, knees pressed against her heaving chest as she takes in deep breaths of salty air. Azzi traipses across the sand, sandals in hand, before falling to the ground next to the other girl. A whisper of a smile is the only acknowledgement Paige offers her as they let a comfortable silence glide over them. 

“It would be nice to live here,” Paige says after a moment, “it’s peaceful.”

“Except when it storms,” Azzi surmises. 

“It’s not peaceful anywhere when it storms,” Paige counters matter-of-factly, “can you just let me have my moment?

“Right, right, continue.”

“Well now I don’t want to.”

Azzi laughs. Paige grins. It’s so easy. It’s so fucking scary. 

“Why’d you leave the restaurant?” Azzi asks cautiously. 

“Fresh air.”

“And?”

Paige sighs, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, “it’s gonna be a long season.”

“It always feels like that at the beginning.”

“I know- it’s just- after last year- I just thought it would be different. We’d show the world this time. Be like the other UConn teams of the past. Maybe I just wanted something easier.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder, “you’ve never wanted easy in your goddamn life Paige. If it’s not a challenge, then it’s not for you. Because you’re God’s strongest soldier, and He’ll give you  his hardest battles, right?”

“Right, but sometimes I just don’t feel so strong.”

“Remember what I said in LA? It’s okay to feel that way P. It’s okay to feel however you feel. Let yourself breathe sometimes, it’s good for you. Fall down, let things go, just- remember to get back up and hold on again. It’ll get better, I promise.”

“You always say the right things,” Paige says quietly, and then even quieter, she whispers under her breath, “you make it so hard Az.”

Azzi’s not fully sure what that means. She’s not sure she wants to. Instead she tangles her and Paige’s fingers together, ignoring the way it feels a little too right,  and lets them fall back into a peaceful quiet.

“So,” Paige begins again, after a couple of minutes, “Zoe didn’t make the trip here?”

I’m holding your hand and you’re thinking about my girlfriend. Maybe you’re a better person than me. 

“She can’t just leave all her schoolwork and follow me wherever,” Azzi says, trying to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. It’s true except the part where Zoe had asked if she wanted her there and Azzi hadn’t been able to give her the enthusiastic yes she wanted, starting an unspoken argument that quashed any chance of a nice romantic island getaway for the two of them. 

“She did for the Elite 8 last-” Paige bites her tongue. 

“How did you-,” Azzi’s brain feels dizzy with confusion, “how could you know that? You left- after the Sweet 16, you- how did you know Zoe was there?”

“I didn’t leave,” Paige keeps her eyes adamantly on the ocean, “the team wanted to stay longer,” that’s a lie, Azzi knows her too well, “and so I stayed and you know me, I love watching hoops so I uh- I watched your game.”

“You were there,” Azzi whispers more to herself than Paige at this point. She’d been so sure she was just hallucinating, her heart trying to trick itself into seeing what it wanted to see, “why didn’t you tell me you were there? Why didn’t you come see me after the game?”

“I did- fuck Azzi- I did-”

“Where? I would’ve seen- I didn’t see-” 

“I saw you,” Paige cuts through Azzi’s frantic questioning, her voice heavy with unspoken emotions as she continues to refuse to look at the younger girl, “you and Zoe. Together.”

“Paige-”

“After the game, you were looking for someone in the stands and I- I thought maybe you were looking for your parents but then I saw you- with her- outside the locker room and- it hit me that- that you were looking for her,” Paige spits the last word out as it feels like lava on her tongue. 

In the grand scheme of things, maybe Azzi should let Paige keep this misconception, maybe it would make things simpler if she let Paige believe in the idea that there was someone else Azzi sought out when she was struggling. But- 

“I thought I saw you,” Azzi breathes out, “I should have been looking for Zoe but-” she has to draw in a breath when Paige whips around, piercing blue eyes that feel like they can see straight into Azzi’s soul, “Paige, I was looking for you-”

The last bit of sound is stolen away from Azzi as Paige’s lips crash onto hers. And it’s so different from summer and that wretched bathroom. Something softer, more gentle, but still desperate and passionate. Time slows down, as Azzi pulls Paige into her lap, hands caressing her waist, mouths still moving against each other with perfect rhythm. They only pull away when air becomes a necessity, resting their forehead against each other, as they breathe in sync. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Azzi whispers, moving a strand of hair out the blonde’s face. 

The way Paige blushes is everything, “stop.”

“You are,” Azzi insists, pressing a kiss against the corner against the edge of her lips, “you’re perfect P.”

If she goes blind tomorrow, in the next second even, Azzi thinks that would be okay. As long as this, Paige with her soft Azzi smile, looking at her with that sparkle in her eyes, face illuminated by the shine of the stars, is the last thing Azzi sees. 

Slowly Paige climbs off of her, stretching out a hand to pull Azzi up. 

“You don’t have a roommate right?,” she asks with a soft smirk that transforms into a shy grin when Azzi nods. And this isn’t a version of Paige that Azzi's ever met before, so different from her cocky loud best friend, but she’d like to learn her all the same. 

The hotel staff probably think they’re a little drunk as they giggle their way to Azzi’s hotel room. Azzi barely manages to get the door open, before Paige’s lips are all over her again, drifting everywhere from her lips to her neck to her collarbone. 

“Off, off, off,” Paige urges, hands pulling away Azzi’s shirt and she can’t help but giggle at the older girl’s impatience. She keeps her eyes firmly on Paige as she unhooks her bra, smirking as her best friend’s eyes glaze over. Paige moves to touch her, and Azzi moves back immediately. 

“Nuh huh. I show you mine, you show me yours.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Paige groans but does as she’s told, discarding her shirt and Azzi’s smirk widens. She moves towards Paige, slowly tracing her tongue down the older girl’s neck. 

“Am I?” Azzi whispers, as she backs her best friend onto the bed. Paige’s eyes follow her every movement as Azzi slowly slides down Paige’s pants, and then her underwear. She runs a finger down Paige’s soaked folds, causing the other girl’s body to shiver, “so wet already, for someone so annoying?”

“Fuck y-” Paige cuts herself off with a groan, when Azzi’s fingers find her sensitive clit.

Settling herself in between the older girl's legs, Azzi grazes her teeth against Paige’s left thigh, satisfied when it makes the other girl’s breath hitch,  “if I’m so annoying maybe I should go?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige warns breathlessly, head propped up against Azzi’s pillows. 

“That’s what I thought,” Azzi smirks, as she peppers kisses up Paige’s thighs, her right thumb lazily flickering against Paige’s clit. 

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Paige lets out a frustrated whine, “just fuck me already.”

Azzi bites down hard against Paige’s thigh, wanting to leave a mark in the one place no one would ever see it, before looking up at Paige, “whatever you want.”

Paige’s entire body writhes as Azzi fucks her tongue into Paige’s pussy, building pace with every thrust. One hand fists around the sheets, as the other moves to grab at Azzi’s head, trying to guide her in deeper. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck shit Azzi please,” Paige curses, eyes rolling into her skull, “just like that fuck.”

She’s so close, words becoming incoherent noises, thighs beginning to shake, when Azzi pulls her tongue off.

“What the fuck-” Paige almost yells but it turns into a groan when Azzi replaces her tongue with two fingers instead, “shit- FUCK.”

Azzi attaches her now-free lips to Paige’s clit and she can tell it’s too much. Paige’s back arches off the bed as her eyes go hazy. And then Azzi’s above her, fingers still rapidly pumping into Paige, as she places a delicate kiss against her lips. 

“Let go baby, I’ve got you,” Azzi whispers into Paige’s ear as the blonde closes her eyes, letting her orgasm wash all over her, “I’ve got you.”

Paige is still for a second, as Azzi slips her fingers out, continuing to press lazy open-mouthed kisses against her best friend’s neck. She squeals when she feels herself being flipped over, back hitting the mattress. 

“What was it you said?” Paige asks cheekily, as starts to unbutton Azzi’s jeans, “I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, a laugh escaping her throat. Trust them to be dorks even in a moment like this. And then Paige attaches her lips to Azzi’s clit and the giggles turn into loud desperate moans. When she slips her fingers in, it’s clear Paige remembers exactly how to push Azzi over the edge. 

“So fucking perfect,” Paige whispers from between her legs, eyes looking up at a blissed-out Azzi with awe, “you’re so fucking perfect.”

“That’s you,” Azzi manages to get out in between bated breaths, before her own orgasm hits her, and Paige’s name waterfalls out of her lips like a prayer. 

There’s no more words after that, only shared looks and soft grins as they make their way into the en-suite bathroom, lazily washing each other between stolen kisses. They fall asleep, wrapped in each other's arms with matching content smiles. 

***

Azzi wakes up alone the next morning. There’s no scribbled note, or even a text. In fact there’s really no proof that Paige was ever there to begin with, except for the ghost of Paige’s touch written all over Azzi’s skin. For a second, Azzi sits in bed and stares out her window. There's a thunderstorm brewing outside (it's not peaceful anywhere when it storms). She watches the raindrops slide down one by one and decides that, that’s the only water that’ll fall today because she won’t shed a single tear and she won’t cry and she most definitely won’t sob. 

She replies to Zoe’s i miss you text with a me too she doesn’t mean.

And then she gets up and goes on with her day. 

[justforfunfic]

Drinks & Dates Pt 2

Summary: Using the prompts “Can you come get me?” and “You’re not really dating him” 

You’ve recently broken up with your boyfriend but he doesn’t get the message. Maybe fake dating his coworker will finally make him realize that you're really over? That is, if your friend doesn’t get to him first. 

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x reader

Genre: Modern AU

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: none A/N: Meryn is not the creep he is in the books/show but he is what he’s always been: a loser. Also sorry if this feels rushed.

Part 2

______________________________________________________________

You’re not proud to admit it, but you’ve been back to Jeff’s twice since the night out with Rosa. You told yourself (and Rosa) that it was because you like the atmosphere, which was partially true, but with no one to share it with, you found it rather awkward. You really went with the hope to see Sandor again.

After holding Rosa’s hair back in the bathroom and then tucking her in on your couch, you pondered about how you knew Sandor. You had heard Meryn talk about him before and he didn’t like him. You thought back to those heated rants, now adding the face to the name.

“He's such a dick!”  Meryn yelled, slamming the fridge door after grabbing a beer. You had gone over to his flat on a Friday afternoon, hoping to finish a paper before seeing a movie later.

“Are you listening to me?” He asked accusingly when he heard the clicking of keys. 

“Mhm,” You hummed back, “I’m just working on my last paragraph and then I’ll be done.”

Meryn huffed, and you asked, “Who was this again?”

“Clegane, which you’d know if you paid attention,” He said.

“Which one?” 

He glared at you before answering. “Sandor!”

“And you’re mad because he won’t work with you?” You furiously hit the backspace key.

“He thinks he’s too good to work with me! The Lannister’s hired the both of us for a reason,” Meryn was getting red in the face. It was difficult enough for veterans to find jobs, but when Tywin Lannister, one of the richests men in the country, offered him a job as a bodyguard for his oldest grandson, he jumped at it. It paid extremely well and soon became the only thing Meryn talked about, but you had lost interest in hearing about the grandson of a powerful politician two weeks after he started. You thought the conversations about Jeoffry were dwindling, but they were replaced with rants about his coworker, Sandor Clegane.

“We’re both supposed to accompany Jeoffry, but he refuses to let me go anywhere with them. How am I supposed to do my job if he blocks me at every step?”

You submitted your paper and realized he was waiting for a response. “I don’t know.”

“That’s because I can’t!”

“Well,” You said calmly as you closed your laptop, “Didn’t the Lanister’s hire you to be there when one of the Cleganes isn’t?”

Meryn glared at you. You weren’t wrong. Joffrey was a demanding teenager to say the least, and while Gegor or Sandor Clegane were with him during the day, Joffrey often sent them out on errands or other tasks. Joffrey’s mother Cersi insisted on hiring someone else to pick up the slack— Meryn. He remained by Jeoffry’s side while the Clegane brothers were away. So even though Sandor and Meryn worked together, they didn’t work together. Meryn didn’t like this technicality.

“That’s not the point! We’re scheduled at the same time, so there’s a lot of overlap. He shouldn’t have a problem with me being there.”

“Maybe he thinks you’re trying to take his job,” You offered.

“I am!” He yelled and you gave him a look as if to say ‘well there you go then.’ “It’s not my fault he isn’t always available.”

“People are allowed to have free time.” Meryn wasn’t having any of your logic and huffed.

You couldn’t think of anything to say about the matter. You didn’t know why Clegane didn’t like him and you didn’t know why it was so important to Meryn for him to like him, especially if he wanted his job.

You changed the subject, “I’m done with my paper if you’re ready to go.”

“Let me finish my beer and I’ll be ready.”

That was the memory that stood out most. There were others, but they often included other people and you couldn’t remember anything about Sandor specifically other than a general hatred. You reviewed the argument in your head again on the way to Jeff’s for the third time in three weeks.

It was the first Saturday you hadn’t had plans with Rosa. She had plans with some of her coworkers, which was an unexpected relief. You would have invited her to go with you out of obligation, but she had a habit of acting differently around men and it wasn’t uncommon for her to throw you under the bus if it meant getting a number. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded. You didn’t usually didn’t know the guy too well but at the same time you never got the chance. It didn’t normally bother you, but the thought of her flirting with Sandor made your stomach drop. 

It was almost ten and Jeff’s was busier than you expected. Maybe because it wasn’t a weekday or nearly 2am saturday night/sunday morning. People poured in and out of the door as you squeezed in. It was loud inside with the laughter of old friends, the shouting of drink orders to the bartenders, and the band playing off to one side. You squeezed your way to the bar, glancing for Sandor on the way while trying not to step on anyone. 

He wasn’t there, a familiar disappointment settling in your chest. You waited for the bartender to look at you to order a drink, too sober to decide what to do next. You didn’t feel like drinking alone but you also didn’t want to go through the trouble of making small talk as you finished your drink or ordered more to wait for Sandor. 

You finally caught the attention of the bartender, leaning on the bar and shouting  your drink order over the dozens of other people trying to flag her down. As you leaned back, you accidentally elbowed the man next to you. You begin to apologize, but he laughed and waved you off. He had already had a few beers and it showed.

“It’s my fault,” he said. “ I didn’t see you there.”

You laughed and half faked a smile, trying not to stare at his eye patch. 

The man on the other side of him gave him a slap on the shoulder and they shook hands as he departed into the sea of people, leaving you and the man with one eye. As the other man left, the smile on his face dropped and he sighed.

“Not a fan?” You asked

“Wouldn’t leave quick enough.” This was your chance to kill time.

“I’m guessing you’re not friends then?”

He scoffed but his merry returned. “Complete strangers actually.” He glanced around. “I don’t know how you feel about the Lannisters, but I don't like them.”

“Neither do I.” No one did, or at least since Joffrey began his reign of terror a few years ago. It was sickening how much he got away with because of his family’s money. A few months ago, there was a peaceful protest for the ongoing war, one which the Lannisters were funding, and Joffery had kicked one of the protesters who spat on the ground in front of him. Chaos and violence ensued with the Lannisters “defending” their helpless Joffrey and people defending themselves from police and the Lannister’s bodyguards. It wasn’t Jeofferys latest scandal and much to the public’s suffering, it wouldn’t be the last. “Not that I go around talking about it.” It was unwise to do so.

The man laughed. “Normally, I don't either. Until Lannister apologists come prancing around spending Lannister money.”

You smiled, it wasn’t a pleasant conversation topic and you didn’t have any real opinions on it other than a general dislike but it was better than drinking alone. The one-eyed man continued his drunken rant and you listened intently, nodding encouragement to him. You were halfway through your third drink with no end in sight. The conversation drifted but always came back to the Lannisters— their money, their influence, their corruption. 

He began on another tangent when your eyes cut to the man he was speaking with before, who unknowingly started this conversation by bragging about the work he did for that awful family. He was finishing what was probably his fifth or six beer surrounded by a group of men laughing and yelling at each other. On one side you could see a mess of dark brown hair and a shirt that looked too familiar. With the turn of his head, your stomach dropped. It was Meryn. You looked away quickly, scared he would feel your eyes on him. 

You tried to focus on the one-eyed man’s words and tried not to think of your ex a few tables away. It was no use, the only thing you could hear was your pounding heart in your ears.

“— and that’s why I’ll never believe a word out of Jamie Lannister's mouth, or anyone who works under him. They’re all liars. Can’t trust ‘em, not a single one.” 

You forced a smile but before you could respond, someone else spoke up in a loud gruff voice. “Not a single one.”

You looked over the man’s shoulder to see who you’d been hoping to see for the past three weeks. Sandor. 

People squeezed out of his way as he got closer to the bar. You didn’t realize how massive he was when he was sitting at the bar a few Saturdays ago but now that he was standing, he had to be the largest man in the room. He wore dark clothes and part of his hair was combed over the burned side of his face. When Sandor reached the bar, the bartender was already placing a dark beer on the counter for him. 

The one-eyed man laughed again. “Not a single one,” he repeated, “They’re all dogs.”

Sandor didn’t smile, but his demeanor was relaxed and you realized that they must be friends.

“Am I wrong?”

Sandor shook his head. “No. Especially not after Joffery’s date with Margery.”

The man raised his eyebrows but before he could ask, Sandor shook his head again. Their date had been covered by multiple media outlets and all over your instagram feed. “I didn’t come here to listen to you complain about the Lannisters, Beric. Everyone knows you don’t like them.”

“Neither do you,” The one-eyed man, Beric, pointed out. It seemed that it was a common argument between the two. 

Rather than indulge his friend’s rant, Sandor looked at you, noticing you for the first time. You desperately raked your brain for something to say but between your nerves and Meryn’s presence, your mind was frustratingly blank. He opened his mouth slightly but closed it again.

“Do you two know each other?” Beric asked. You didn't miss the raised eyebrow he gave Sandor.

“Um, yes,” You said a little too quickly. “Well sort of.”

Beric raised an eyebrow.

“We briefly met a few weeks ago,” you said steadily. 

“She’s Meryn Trant’s girlfriend,” Sandor said.

You were quick to correct. “Ex-girlfriend.” 

“Oh,” Beric said, “so all that rambling about the Lannisters—”

“— I completely agree with. It’s hard to like them with their political policies and impossible when you find out what goes on behind closed doors.”

“Trant told you?” Sandor asked, crushing any hope Beric had of you telling him.

“Yes,” you said cautiously. His tone was serious. “Should he not have?”

“No.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say. “I didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to know.”

“It’s in his contract.”

You nodded and before you forced yourself to think of something else to talk to Sandor about, Beric cut in. “What happened?”

It took you a moment to realize he was talking about your former relationship and not the Lannisters.

“We realized we weren’t right for eachother,” You said with a thin smile. As much as you wanted to tell your new friend about the woes of your relationship with Meryn, this wasn’t the time or place. Sandor raised an eyebrow at your response and how you nervously avoided eye contact and knew there was more that you weren’t sharing. He hated working with Trant. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to date him.

Soon the Lannisters were abandoned in favor of the new girlfriend of Beric’s close friend. You paid enough attention and laughed when appropriate, but it wasn’t until Beric mentioned a dog that your eyes brightened.

“You have a dog?” you asked Sandor as Beric excused himself to go to the bathroom.

“Stranger,” he replied, the most interested you’d seen him in a conversation yet, “He’s a hound. A great big one.”

“I had a greyhound when I was little. His name was Sarge. He was so large, or maybe I was just so young, that I had fully convinced myself that he was the largest dog to exist and borderline the size of a horse.”

Sandor’s eyes lit up and you could’ve sworn he was smiling a little. “A horse?”

“I was, like, four, okay?”

He nodded, "What color?”

“Brindle. I wish I had a picture.” There was one in your room somewhere. “What about Stranger?”

“He’s black. I got him at the shelter on Fourth.”

“That’s where my friend Rosa got her cat!” You said enthusiastically and a bit too loudly. You clung to your empty glass and smiled.

“She’s the girl you were with a few weeks ago?”

Your smile became strained as you nodded, immediately regretting bringing her up. Before a thousand thoughts and memories of Rosa came crashing down on your confidence, Sandor, upon noticing the ice melting in your glass, drained his own drink and offered to get another round. You hastily accept, pushing Rosa out of your mind.

After a few moments waiting in the crowd, the bartender made eye contact with Sandor and nodded in your direction while pouring a drink. Sandor leaned across from you, put his hand on the bartop for balance. You blushed at the proximity and tried to look anywhere but his face

Your gaze wandered as you studied the faces of everyone else in the bar but the one that was right in front of you. Until your eyes landed on the one person you were hoping wouldn’t notice you. Meryn was staring directly at you. You froze. You could see the gears turning in his head and see how he saw you: with Sandor’s arm around you as he ordered another round of drinks for you. You could hear the thought in his head. She’s with him. 

You watched the shock turn to hurt and the hurt turn to anger. And then you looked away. You didn’t want to see what he was thinking anymore. You turned your attention to Sandor, a mistake in hindsight.

“What did you order?”

“Whatever you had before.” You wished he’d say more to distract you from your borderline violent ex. Surely he wouldn’t make a scene with Sandor here. He was his coworker and almost a head taller than him. 

“Sorry about Beric,” Sandor said, back to facing you.

“What about him?”

“He doesn’t know when to shut up when he’s drunk. Or sober for that matter.”

“I don’t mind.” Rosa’s the same way, you wanted to add, but instead you said, “I’m used to it, and frankly I enjoy listening to him.”

“That makes one of us.”

“Why do you go out drinking with him if you don’t like him?”

“He’s not so bad.” You almost missed Sandor’s eyes crinkling and realized that must be his way of smiling. “He can be a bit insensitive about some things. Doesn’t mean anything by it though.”

Was he talking about the Lannisters or Meryn? Part of you wished it was your ex so that you could tell Sandor about him to avoid Meryn causing a scene. The other part of you hoped he wasn’t talking about Meryn so that you could keep pretending that he didn’t exist. Unfortunately, Meryn wasn’t going to let the latter be an option.

“I’m not bothered by it. I’m glad I didn’t have to drink alone.”

“I’m glad too,” Sandor said, looking over at the bar. He had already finished his beer. “I don’t have to endure his blabbering alone.”

You laughed. He looked at you with a half-smile and was about to say something else when you caught a movement in your peripheral vision. Before you had time to register what was happening, Meryn was already there.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Clegane?” Meryan spat.

“Drinking,” Sandor replied, disinterested. Any walls that had been lowered during the last few hours were up again in seconds.

“No shit. What are you doing with my girl?”

Sandor looked at you, staring wide-eyed with shock and embarrassment, and back to Trant.

“I thought you two had broken up.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s mine.”

“Not anymore apparently,” Beirc said, appearing from the crowd and ready to give Meryn the fight he was craving. You could only stare. Everything was happening so fast and yet moved in slow motion.

“Fuck off, old man” said the Lannister apologist from earlier.

“How could you do this to me?” Meryn threw the question at you. His brows knit together with anger. “How could you see another man behind my back?”

All eyes in the building were on you. Your face burned. Mortified was the only word to describe how you felt. “We’re not together anymore.” Your voice came out shaky.

“So you decide to fuck my coworker?” His face was red, but something in you snapped.

“You cheated on me.” Finding a small bit of courage, you added, “It doesn’t matter who I’m with now because you cheated on me.”

Sandor’s eyes widened. He should’ve been ashamed, but Meryn dug his heels in. “You thought I cheated. And now you’re fucking my coworker.”

“She left, Trant. Get over it.” You thought Sandor would add that you weren’t seeing each other, but instead she stood to his full height and took a step toward your ex. That was all it took for the manager to step in.

“That’s enough! Pay your tabs and get out!” Terry yelled. He turned to Sandor and Beric and in a quieter but no less threatening tone said, “Sit down or I’ll kick you out too.”

“Not until you answer me,” Meryn hissed at you, his friends egging him on. Even if you wanted to tell him why he was dumped in further detail, Terry didn’t give you the time. He waved to his left and a large man came out of the kitchen.

Meryn couldn’t decide what insults to hurl at you, so he used any and all that came to mind, ranging from bitch to slut to sloppy seconds but that last one was also directed toward Sandor as he was dragged out by security.

Some patrons watched the door as if they were expecting Meryn to barge back in, but others got back to talking and drinking. You were still processing what had just unfolded.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammered. Beric laughed.

“Don’t be. I take great joy in watching Lannister men getting what they deserve.”

“A fraction of what they deserve in Trant’s case,” Sandor mumbled. You couldn’t read his face, but it didn’t matter. Their words didn’t make you feel any better. You excused yourself to the bathroom.

“Poor girl. I feel bad for laughing. That must’ve been hard for her.” Beric said.

Sandor nodded. “At least she doesn’t have to work with him.”

“That’s true.”

“He thinks I’m dating her.” Sandor thought of all the disgusting things Trant would say and the rumors he would spread. They wouldn’t mean much to him, but he still didn’t want to deal with it. 

“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” Beric said, nudging his friend’s arm.

[cameronspecial]

Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 8)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Drinking, Driving While Impaired and Overdose.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: An argument with Wards sends Rafe to the hospital and this brings Y/N to a sudden realization.

A/N: This does deal with a serious subject matter and if you are suffering from an addiction, please know that you are not alone and that there are many ways that you can seek help. If I got anything wrong or forgot a warning, please let me know.

Masterlist

Rafe wakes up the next morning with the worst hangover of his life and he groans at the realization of what happened last night. He carefully makes his way to his bathroom to freshen up. The sound of him moving the debris around with his foot is the only thing that can be heard in his room. After finishing up in the bathroom, he decides to get something to eat and drink to hopefully help cure his hangover. However, the mention of his name coming from his dad’s office stops him in his tracks.

“I can’t believe you would say those things to Rafe, Ward. You know that wasn’t true,” Rose criticizes her husband with a disapproving look. Ward rounds the corner of his desk, sitting on the edge and bringing her between his legs, “I did what I had to do Rose. With her back in town, Rafe needs to be reminded of where he belongs and I will keep reminding him of where he is needed. Just like I did when he was applying for university.” Rafe’s eyebrows knit in confusion. Rose lets out a sigh. 

“Did you really have to do that? I think he really did want to go to the UK.”

“No, he only wanted to be there because that’s where she was going. If I hadn’t deleted his acceptance emails and sent him fake rejection letters, he would’ve followed her across the world to only realize he made a mistake.”

Ward’s confession causes Rafe to see red. He opens the partially closed door and barges into the room, “You had no right to do that! I wanted the choice to choose and I would’ve chosen England even if Y/N wasn’t going because it would get me away from you.” Ward’s shocked look on his face indicates he wasn’t planning on Rafe what he had done. “No, you wouldn’t have, Rafe. You never talked about that possibility before you started dating Y/N.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you never gave me a choice? You had my life planned for me without giving me a chance to think about what I wanted. When I started dating Y/N, she made me realize that travelling abroad was an option that I never considered but found interesting. You know, if you had given me the chance, my plan was to go to England to make some foreign connections to, maybe, expand the business there. But, no, you don’t think I was smart enough to think of anything intelligent for the company.” 

At the end of his rant, Rafe just shakes his head and leaves the room. He takes his keys out of his pocket with the plans of heading to Barry’s. 

——

Rafe enters the trailer without knocking, earning a surprise look from the resident of the house. “Country club, you can’t just barge in like that. What if I had a lady over?” Barry complains, getting up from his couch. Rafe ignores him, rifling through Barry’s stuff, “Where’s your coke? I need more.” Barry just gives him an apologetic look. 

“Sorry, country club. I’m afraid I’m fresh out.”

“No, you’re not. I see powder under your nose. You wouldn’t finish all of your stash.” 

“Okay, you caught my lie. But I’m cutting you off. You’re good for business, but as your ‘friend’, I am worried about you.”

“Worried about me, my ass. If you aren’t going to give it to me, then I’ll just go to someone else. I’m tired of people thinking they know what’s best for me.”

——

Rafe has been going from party to party looking for someone who would give him the drugs he needed, but he couldn’t find a single dealer anywhere. The lack of drugs didn’t stop him from drinking any alcohol he found. It was only at the last party late into the night that he found someone. “You got coke?” Rafe questions in more of an authoritative tone than an inquisitive one. The tall blonde looks over at him, “You got cash?” He pulls out a thousand, not caring if he is overpaying, all he cares about is the substance that will make him forget the pain. She doesn’t say a thing as he hands it over and gives him several small baggies of white powder. 

He exits the party, hopping into his car. Rafe forms the lines of the powder into several rows on the dashboard. He begins to snort his normal amount of cocaine. As he finishes the final line, he shifts the car out of the park and heads over to the beach. The hour-long drive to his normal beach from the Cut side of the island is worth the quiet sounds of the waves. Rafe sits by himself on the sand and that is when he starts to notice how suddenly feels colder than the warmer summer night should be making him. His hands are clammy for some unknown reason. The next thing he notices is the manner in which his body begins to feel a little limp. He lifts his hand and it falls down as if he has no bones. Finally, his slow breathing is the last thing to catch his attention before his eyelids close to bring him to sleep. 

——

Mason has been driving around the whole of the island trying to pin Rafe down. Find My Friend had been left on for both of them and when Wheezie called informing Mason of the argument she overheard, he hopped in his car and began his chase. Rafe never stayed in one place for too long, so seeing him stay at the beach for longer than thirty minutes, Mason feels like his prayers were answered. The first thing Mason sees as he checks Rafe’s car is the residue from the drug on the dashboard. Worry floods his system, realizing that Rafe has been driving while intoxicated.

Mason runs to the beach and his whole body is filled with apprehension upon witnessing Rafe’s lying on the beach. He runs towards Rafe, pulling out his phone to call 911. After informing the dispatcher of where he is and what happened, he checks for breath that is not there  and begins CPR. Once Rafe starts breathing again, Mason lays Rafe on his side to protect him from choking on his vomit. Hearing the siren from the paramedics helps relieve some of Mason's stress. 

——

When Y/N got the call early in the morning, she didn’t care what state she was in, she took her mom’s car and sped to the hospital. Her normally cautious driving style is thrown out the window as she speeds through yellow lights and stop signs. She hastily parks the car and runs to the hospital room number Mason told her. Seeing Rafe in the hospital bed almost brings Y/N to her knees. Instead, she buries her head into her brother’s chest and lets her emotions release itself. After a few minutes of crying in Mason’s hug, she looks up at him. “How is he?” she whispers, casting a glance at the sleeping figure. 

“He’s stable. Doc says he should make a full recovery. She thinks the coke he snorted was laced with fentanyl.”

“Are you okay? It must have been hard to see him like that.”

Now, it is Mason’s turn to unleash his emotions. He leans forward and places his head into the crook of her neck. She feels his tears leak onto her skin. “He wasn’t breathing. His lips were turning blue. I thought we were going to lose him,” he cries to her. 

“I know, I know. I wish I could’ve been there for you.”

“I don’t. I don’t want you to ever have to see him like that. It would break you.”

“You’re right. I just wish someone was there with you. Has his family seen him yet?”

“They have, but they are in the cafeteria for some breakfast while he is asleep.”

“Right, makes sense. You should probably get something to eat too. I’ll stay with him. I promise.”

Mason nods his head and places a gentle kiss on her forehead before he goes to eat. Y/N sits down on the chair beside the bed, taking his hand into hers and resting her head against his thigh. She lets herself release a few more tears she has been keeping in because of the thought of losing him. She lifts her head up, placing a kiss on the back of his hand. “I really wish you would have talked to someone about how you’ve been feeling instead of turning towards drugs. If you would’ve come to me, I wouldn’t have turned you away. I would’ve tried to help you. I promise,” she whispers to him. “If you want me, I promise that I’ll help you get sober because I can’t see you like this again.” She takes her phone out to cancel her flight. There is no way she is going to leave with him in the position he is in. Y/N doesn’t remember falling asleep with her head on his bed. 

Rafe groggily wakes up without an understanding of where he is or what happened, but when he sees Y/N, relief spreads over him and he places his hand softly on top of her head. He runs his fingers through her hair. He can’t believe she is here for him. He doesn’t remember why he is here, yet he is thankful that she is. He can’t stop the pull of sleep calling him back. 

——

The entrance of a nurse wakes Y/N from her slumber. “Hi, sweetie. I’m just here to give back his personal belongings,” the older lady informs her, handing Y/N the large Ziploc bag of Rafe’s possessions. The nurse leaves the room and Y/N takes the time to open the bag. She finds the normal things, like his wallet, his keys, the clothes he was wearing and his phone, but one thing sticks out to her. A gold chain with a circular pendant hanging from it. She takes the necklace into her hand and flips over the charm to see a familiar-looking rose imprinted on it. She can’t believe he actually kept the necklace she gave him. He must have been wearing it if it was in the bag with his stuff. How long has he kept it with him, she wonders. A feeling of warmth spreads through her body. 

This whole time she thought that he hated her, that any love he had for her went out the window when she broke his heart in his dorm room five years ago. Sure everyone keeps telling her that she is the only person he could ever love, but she didn’t exactly believe them because of how he treated her. However, seeing this symbol of their relationship changes everything for her. If he held onto this, then a small part of him must have been holding onto her. This causes her to feel strange in some way she can’t understand. Hope she didn’t know she was holding onto her flourishes through her. She doesn’t know what this means for them, but she does know what she needs to do. 

Y/N gets up from her seat, placing a kiss on his cheek. “We are going to figure this out, Cameron. I know we can,” she mumbles against his cheek. She places the necklace around her neck and brings the pendant up to her lips.

——

Cole opens the door with a smile on his face that drops once he sees the serious look on her face. “Is everything alright?” he asks, moving out of the way so that she can enter the hotel room. She just looks at him with a sad look. “Rafe is in the hospital. He overdosed,” she croaks out, letting herself be wrapped into his hug. He kisses her forehead. 

“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Yes, but not in the way that you expect. Cole, I’m sorry to say this but I think we should take a pause on our relationship. I’m not asking for a break-up, but I just need some time to figure things out at the moment. This might be strange to you, but I need to help him recover. I know he is going to need me.”

“No, I understand. You and Rafe have a special connection and I know how important that will be in helping him get sober. Take all the time you need. Come back to me when you are ready. I’ll be waiting.” 

Y/N looks up at him with wonder in her eyes, “I don’t deserve how understanding you are. Thank you. I promise that I’ll come back once I have him settled.” She knows what she said isn’t technically a lie, but a small part of her thinks it might not be the entire truth. 

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you @winterrrnight @maggiecc @magicwithaknife @loves0phelia @jiarapamuk @blisslove @baby19sthings @thelomlisrafecameron

[lovelovex]

no x posts no announcements, kind rude p don’t you think cutting such a big amount of people who CARE about you guys is too much??? it is hard to keep up with all your updates via fucking RUMORS of all things for fucks sake

oh we’re right off w the accusations ok ok ok sometimes i hate being the spokesperson, P the diplomat, but here we go

i’m gonna use this post for the whole rant bc it’s all p much the same in my inbox:

if ‘rumors’ have been your only source of information for the past i dont rly rmbr how many months honey that’s intentional

sometime in july, before i made that post ab the healing process, we sat down and went thru every email subscribed to our mailing list, every account in every gc we used to have, decided fuck it and created all the new ones, rmbr when we had like 500+ members in one of them? well that’s not happening ever again, outsiders aren’t allowed anymore

did it hurt your feelings being left out?

well it hurt my feelings to find out how many of you were actually involved in the case behind my back, how many of you knew exactly what was happening in those two years and stayed silent or worse – chose to side w the person who wanted to take everything he could away from me

not just me, my friends, my family, the ppl i love more than anything else in this world, have suffered enormously bc of His actions and bc of Your support of those actions

i know exactly who you all are, i have a list of names i dont want to hear ever again in my life

the damage you’ve done is irreparable, and it’s beyond my imagination how any of you still feel entitled to anything, did you rly think i’d never find out? i thought it was common knowledge i always find out one way or another

we’re all grown up ppl, and it’s not my place to tell you who you can or cannot talk to, you’ve made your choices and we’ve made ours, and if you ended up on the outside of the circle, welcome to consequences 101, your actions actually do have an impact, what a concept

the case played a big part in the whole thing, but we’re way past that now, and the thing is – the real reason behind ‘cutting out such a big amount of ppl’ is we’re tired, the better part of our lives was dedicated solely to creating a safe space, and we did, only to realize we’re our own safe space, it’s the ppl, so the shows are still happening, the karaoke nights and the acoustic sessions, i say my thank yous from the stage and in emotional voice msgs at 3am bc my god do i love our space, my little sanity oasis, that part hasn’t and will never change

what changed is that we don’t have to subject ourselves to scrutiny, to any form of judgement anymore rly, what they dont know they can’t ruin i rmbr a post like this somewhere on this blog, i dont have to read your thoughts on every single detail of every single move we make, i only hear opinions from those ppl i actually want to listen to, and no, i dont only surround myself w yes men now, if i do smth wrong i still get called out, rightfully so

what i’m mostly tired of is those half-assed friendships, of ppl who only wanted me smiling and shiny, who would disappear the second things got a bit depressing, i dont know who hurt you, but it wasn’t me, or maybe it was, in that case that’s on you if you never had the guts to open your mouth and actually say smth

yk i’ve had to say so many goodbyes in the last two years, i’ll say some more if it comes to this, i’m getting better at letting ppl come and go, but i could never tolerate indifference or betrayal, and i’ve had enough of both of these things

you can still go off in my inbox, let it all out, i can’t rly stop you, just know it doesn’t make any difference to me

[leastlikelytoachieve]

To Love and To Be Loved

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Y/n

Description: y/n is running from her abusive ex boyfriend and she finds herself in the last place he would look for her. Gotham City. She is immediately infatuated by The Batman. Can Bruce Wayne steal her heart as quickly as the vigilante?

Warnings: probably some bad grammar, mild language, extreme mentions of dom3stic vi0lence and SA. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE SUBJECTS.

a/n: this chapter is mostly getting to know y/n and how she got to Gotham. If you're not interested in her backstory, you can skip to near the end of the story where she may or may not have a run in with a certain vigilante...the second chapter will be up hopefully tomorrow night.

“We’ve been ‘Chasing Unity’, thank you. See you next time.”

It’s the same line. Every night. The same shitty dive bars. Why did I even move here? To Gotham? It rains every day, crime is rising by the millisecond, going to the grocery store is basically a fight for your life. Yet here I am, playing in a half-baked excuse of a rock band with my three friends. All of us crammed inside of a three bedroom apartment.

Why did I even move here?

It was an escape.

Right after high school my best friend Alex and I, who had remained inseparable up to this point, decided that we were not on the same paths. His path being paved in diamonds and bright lights in the sky. Mine being paved in cement and boring road signs, and I was okay with that, really. I had met the “love of my life” in Junior year and had my whole life planned out. We would go to college, he would climb the ladder at some company I couldn’t remember the name of…and me, I would teach music at the local high school. We would have a few kids and grow old. We…well…I had it all planned out.

But then reality set in, just about as hard as his fists. I kept hoping someone would wonder why I was wearing jeans and a long sleeve in June, hoping that someone would notice my excessive makeup and desire for larger than life sunglasses. But nobody did.

“Alex” the steadiness in my voice faltering as I heard the voice of my best friend.

“Hey sweets! Is everything okay?” Alex always had a way of knowing when I was in pain. He knew when I needed him. “Alex, I need to leave him. I don't know what to do or where to go.” I sobbed into the phone as I sat on the hospital bed. Silence overtook his side of the phone as he processed a plan.

“Okay okay I have a plan, but first you need to calm down and tell me exactly what happened…”

“GODDAMMIT CAN YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?!?!” I winced as my fiance screamed again. Another slammed door. Another hole in the wall.

“I-I’m sorry…I didn’t kno-” my sentence was cut short as cold hands grabbed me by the hair, pulled me into the bedroom and threw me onto the floor.

“I can’t even look at you right now. Laid off??? The oldest excuse in the book!!” He took a pause in his rant and I took a kick to the ribs. Hot tears stained my face as I listened to the cracks of my bones under the blows of his fury. “You think you can just live off of me? Leech all of my money and do nothing in return?? Get your sorry ass up and out of the house and don’t come back until you have something to offer me other than your ass”

I did not return that night, figuring I had about two days until he started looking for me. I had his schedule memorized so I took the time he would be at work to go back to the house and grab all the clothes and cash that I could fit into one bag, grab my old guitar and catch a greyhound to the last place he would look for me. Gotham City.

Alex took me into his apartment and introduced me to his friends Georgia and Trevor, who were together.

“And this is where you will sleep..” he grunted as he yanked on the pullout couch, letting out an exasperated sigh as it finally popped into place. “Until we can find some place bigger” I walked over to the window, the dull pain in my ribs, a singing reminder of why I came here. My eyes scanned over the city a few times, “What is that? In the sky?” Alex squinted as he peered out the window from across the room. “Oh the signal…for the batman…or vengeance…or whatever he goes by now..” I turned to ask more but I was interrupted by a loud knock at the door. My heart found its new home in my ass as I leapt behind the couch, trying to control my breathing. He found me, I should have known and now I’ve brought alex into it… “hey hey, it’s okay. It’s just my date. He’s got a car” Alex wiggled his eyebrows as he peered behind the sofa at me.

“Oh…you’re going out?” I know he could sense the hesitancy in my voice. I didn’t want to be left alone. But who was I to ask him to stop living his life?

“I will be back. You’re safe here. Just lock the door when I leave and make yourself comfortable. I’ll see you in a few hours! Love you!” and with that last sentiment he was out the door. I sat down on the sofa bed and opened Alex’s laptop, deciding to look into this mystery that lies behind the light in the sky. I spent the next few hours entranced by the vigilante on the screen. Shitty phone footage of him fighting, endless articles about how he saved hundreds of people during a flood a few months back. The laptop screen going black broke me out of my trance and I realized it wasn’t plugged in. I sighed and gently closed it, setting it on the coffee table next to me. Standing up to stretch my bones, I hissed in pain as my broken ribs made their daily cameo. I wandered around the apartment for only a few minutes, glancing over pages of music and lyrics sprawled out on the counters. Smiling to myself I made my way back to the window, my eyes immediately trained on the light in the sky. “Okay Gotham. I’m here. Now what?”

That was 6 months ago. Currently, we are only half a step above where we were, but it’s progress. So I can’t complain, I guess. I had daydreams in the beginning, mostly about the man clad in Kevlar. Though I would never admit it. Tonight, I find myself outside the dive bar staring up at the signal, wondering what he is doing. Who he is saving. Maybe he is saving some women from her wretched, sad excuse of a boyfriend. Maybe he is taking on 6 wannabe thugs at once…maybe he-

“UHH HELLO?!?! Earth to brick wall!! Have you heard anything I said?” I blinked a few times trying to rid the inside of my eyes of images of the vigilante.

“Um..yeah..i…no.I’m sorry, what did you say?” Alex rolled his eyes, he hates repeating himself. Shoving a yellow flier into my hand, he continued “Bruce Wayne is hosting a charity event at the Garden. They want LOCAL ARTISTS to play!! Do you know what this means for us?”

“No” I deadpanned

“wWHAT?? What do you mean no??? It MEANS the whole city gets to hear our music, the whole city gets to hear your sweet sweet voice…” he singsonged at the end and throws his hands up in dramatic effect. I laughed and put my hands on his shoulders “calm down. It says we have to audition. You don't know if we will even be picked.”

Alex scoffed, “oh, we will be picked.”

“Alex, he is a billionaire. He probably only listens to classical and soft jazz”

“You clearly have never feasted your eyes upon the holiness that is Bruce Wayne. We are auditioning. Now get your pretty ass inside and cook us up a killer song” He smacked my ass as he shoved me through the back entrance of the bar, both of us laughing.

I spent the rest of the night in the back of the bar where the artists warmed up and got ready to perform. Just sitting on the couch trying to write a song that would impress the infamous Bruce Wayne. Alex called it a night a few hours before me, stating something about beauty rest and walking out of the door to hail a taxi. I looked down at the page with only three lines written out. Picking up a pillow I shoved my face into it and let out a guttural scream. Looking up at the clock, my blood ran cold. 3:31 AM.

I gathered all of my papers and shoved them into my bag, terrified of the trip home at this time in the heart of Gotham City. I cracked open the door, and peered around for any immediate danger. Seeing none, I stepped out into the cold, unforgiving air. Pulling my jacket tighter around my frame I started walking home. It was about a 45 minute walk, but I planned on hailing the first taxi that I laid eyes on. 15 minutes into the trip, i started to think even the taxi drivers weren’t stupid enough to be out this late.

“Hhheyyyy I know you..” shit. The mans words were slurred. “You wr that purty lil thing singin on stage tonight.” He stumbled up to me and tried to grab my arm but I yanked it away, turning to face him and crossing my arms over my front “I’m sorry, you have the wrong person. I dont know what you’re talking about.” he darkly chuckled and stepped in closer. “Sssure you do! And that is no way to treat a fan little lady” soon enough my back was against a wall and his breath reeked of alcohol and traveled down the side of my face as his arms barricaded me in. I sobbed as he pressed his face into the side of mine, inhaling sharply through his nose and then suddenly sending his knee into my gut. I cried out and fell to my knees. “Mm yes, just how I like them” he said, grabbing my hair and slamming my head into the wall behind me. “On their knees and a little dizzy”

“Please dont..” I sobbed as I heard his belt buckle and then I heard a thud…well actually..a bunch of thuds. I kept my head down as I listened to the grunts and groans of pain. I finally let my body collapse onto the cold, wet ground. I stared up at the sky, the bat signal shining brightly,straight above me. I tried to focus on it when my view of the light was obscured by a shadow…no…a person…no…the man, clad in Kevlar. The man I had daydreamt about since my first night in Gotham. Standing over me.

“Are you okay?” his voice low and gravelly as he grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet.

“Um…ii…i..yea-” my words failed me at the same time my legs did.

“Okay..yeah..here we go” he said as he swept an arm under my legs and behind my waist, picking me up as if I weighed nothing. I wrapped my arm around his neck and gripped his cape in my fist.

He looked down at me,his ocean eyes boring into mine and for a second, I thought we were having a moment.

“Where do you live?”

“Oh..i..right..just..go straight…please”

I guided him all the way back to my apartment, not looking away from his face once. Wanting to commit every detail of it to memory. As he set me down, he kept his hands close to steady me if needed.

“Uh….i..thank you..for saving me. Lord knows this world couldn’t do without one more washed up singer in a band..” my cheeks burned with with bashfulness. He nodded curtly and then turned to leave. My intrusive thoughts won, as they usually do. I reached out and grabbed his wrist. “wait..I..” as he turned back around, I didn’t waste a second. Afraid the adrenaline would wear off and I would chicken out. I placed my hands on his chest and stood on my tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. It wasn’t an accident on my end that the corners of our mouths grazed each other. I slowly lowered myself back onto my heels and looked up at him. “Goodnight..and thank you again” before he could respond, if he even would, I turned on my heels and opened the gate that led to my apartment building. Only turning around when I reached the door. He was gone.

[romanticandupsetting]

PLATO KEYCHAIN

kise ryota x gn!reader ; soulmate!au

a soulmate au where your dreams are your soulmate’s memories. also, enemies to lovers.

warnings: reader cusses, like, once , mentions of food , mentions of academic pressure , little blood (a nosebleed is mentioned once) , fainting , kise being dumb

request by @carinacassiopeiae​​:  Hii! Yes please, go write knb fics ahhhh and please tag me!! Umm, for a request, soulmate au with kise?? But like at the start, they're enemies so cue the angst and whatnot, but they find out they're soulmates so yeah thank youu

word count: 3363

this is my first request and first one shot so i got kinda enthusiastic and ended up writing it immediately lol. i try to make the reader gender neutral, unless someone requests me a specific gender so if i accidentally typed a pronoun other than they/them for the reader here, please tell me :>>

Light blue hair.

Ah, you’re having another dream.

Dreams were pretty rare for you these past few weeks―maybe even months―all because studying hindered your sleep, messed with your energy, and you’re too tired to even dream.

But that doesn’t matter right now, clearly your mind feels good enough to show you a story in your sleep.

A tall boy with green hair and glasses took a small wooden box from his school bag.

Oh, his fingers are taped? What a weird guy.

“I wanted to thank you for letting me copy your notebook,” he said. “These are custom-made rolly pencils used as a last resort for tests.”

“Rolly pencils?!”

A cute girl with pink hair accepted them, smiling as she did.

“Custom means you made it yourself?” said your person.

The green-haired boy grins, lifting his glasses. “That’s what giving your utmost best is all about.”

“Nah,” your hand shook, denying what he said. “You put on airs and say all that stuff, but it’s still super lame!”

Who the hell is your soulmate. You can’t tell if he’s funny or mean.

“Ah! There are three of them! I’ll give you one, Tetsu-kun,” the girl said, handing one pencil to a boy with blue hair.

“Oh, are you sure?” asked he.

“Yeah!” the girl nods. “Studying for tests will be tough with a sprained wrist, right? So, it’s a little gift to cheer you on!”

The boy smiles, looking at the pencil. “I’ll take it then.”

You wake up with a sigh.

It was an adorable dream, honestly. You couldn’t help but be happy for your soulmate who had such fun friends.

Well, it was fun while it lasted. You wish you had those kinds of friends. Must be nice…

You shake the dream out of your head and started getting ready for school. You take a glance at your study table, still messy from your nightly study sessions that you force on yourself before you go to sleep. There are even nights when you don’t allow yourself to rest if you didn’t study at least three subjects.

It’s okay, though. Studying is necessary and you should be mature enough to understand and accept that. Yes, be mature, y/n. messing around wouldn’t get you anywhere in life.

You head out, feeling a little relaxed thanks to that one good sleep you’ve had in months.

The sky has the most perfect looking clouds, the wind feels nice as it moves past you, the neighbor’s dog is asleep, you didn’t forget anything at home.

You smile slightly as you walk.

Kise Ryota woke up with heavy breaths.

What was that dream? Oh, god, he just woke up and he’s already sweating.

As he gets dressed in his usual uniform and packed his things, he can’t get that dream out of his head.

No, no, it should be a nightmare, right? Why is that… oh god, I hope they’re okay.

During morning practice he ranted to his friend.

“Isn’t it horrible, Kasamatsu-senpai?” He pouts, sitting on the bench as he wipes his face. “Even Greek philosophers wouldn’t study so much that they’d black out.”

“Since when did you know anything about Greek philosophers?” his senpai spouts.

Kise blinked. Right, since when did he know about those? “Maybe it was in my dream? Oh, there was that one cute Plato keychain my soulmate has…” He smiles dreamily, thinking of how cute the keychain looked. “No, that’s not important! What’s important is that my soulmate had a nose bleed and fainted because they were overworking―oh my god, they could be dead by now!”

“They’re not, you moron. Shut up already.”

In the classroom, you stare at the window past the boy to your left. You know you should be studying right now for your next class but you wanted to tone it down since you were still scared of exceeding your own limitations.

You wouldn’t forget how humiliating that hospital room is. You should’ve known better.

“Staring at me, l/n-chan?”

“Oh, how annoying,” you speak in a monotone voice. “I was admiring how beautiful the view is if only you weren’t there. Mind moving, Kise-kun?” You scowl at him.

“Tsk, tsk, l/n-san you should learn your manners. We’re in high school, we should be mature.” The blond grins, lifting his chin up.

“Huh? What do you know about maturing, you muscle for brains? I don’t think you can even spell that word. You piss me off, could you leave right now piss hair?”

He gives you a dirty look and sighs. “Back then, you avoided me and now you’re bullying me? Aren’t your academics making your head kinda big?”

“Hmm…” you cross your arms. “And what are your idiot brain cells doing? Playing basketball with your brain?”

The science teacher walked in before he could make a comeback.

You turn your back to him, honestly, why the hell is it so upsetting to argue with him?

He’s so irritating.

“I’ll return your pop quizzes now,” the teachers announced as the abundance of sighs mixed together in the classroom.

Your nerves started getting to you. What if you did horribly? What if you answered an obviously easy question wrong? But you study hard every day, there’s no way you could do poorly on such a simple quiz.

You take your paper and sigh in relief that you got a perfect score.

The blonde peeked at your result and pouted. “Perfect, as always.”

You smile at him. “Well, yeah, I’m not you.”

He glares at you. Why did you have to rub it in like that? You’re a genius, he gets it, so what? He scoffs.

“So what if I have low scores? At least I don’t validate myself using high grades,” he mutters.

Oh, but you heard it. God, his voice was so clear in your earshot.

You glare at him, which he felt. You felt anger, rage, hate, vexation, and every other synonym for those words.

How dare he talk about you like that? You never liked him form the start because you thought he was just a dumb jock. You got seated next to each other in class and sure, there was this banter on the both of you and you thought to yourself, it’s pretty cute, maybe he’s not that bad, but how dare he say those words.

It hurts because it’s true but it also hurts because it came from him.

“You wouldn’t understand it, Kise,” you spit out, your voice felt dark and meant for him. “You’re talented.”

It hurts.

Chest feeling empty and tears threatening to pour out, you both avoided looking at each other.

As you walk home, the sky still had the most perfect looking clouds, the wind cool as it blows past you, the dog is quietly wagging its tail in the front yard, and you didn’t forget anything.

You don’t feel good anymore.

There was a bitter taste in the back of your throat, your legs feel sluggish, and your bag feels a little heavier that it did this morning. You should study as soon as you get home, snacks are irrelevant as of now. So long as you don’t faint, you’re good.

The next morning, you wake up not caring about the fact that you didn’t have a dream.

Kise took a glance to his right, seeing you quietly study during break time. Were you not going to mock him as usual? You’re not even heading out to buy a snack or a drink.

Was it his fault?

Maybe what he said was too far.

Honestly, the daily arguments with you always felt so bittersweet. He looked forward to talking to you during breaks even if all that talking are just petty fights. He wished it was different, that you both would talk to each other about your day or how you’re craving for a certain item at the cafeteria, but no.

He just has to fight back like that every single time and look where it led him.

Kise remembers the dream he had.

Oh god, he feels even worse about it now. What if that was also how you act behind closed doors? No, wait…

You act like that even when you’re right beside him.

Always studying, not even taking a snack break, hell―you’re doing it right now.

He tries looking at you discreetly.

Did you get thinner? No, he’s imagining it. You don’t look well but you don’t look sick.

At least, not yet.

Kise is scared but as he was punching himself in his mind, he took notice of your open bag and his eyes―usually playful, fun, with a soft gaze, only serious when he’s playing basketball―went wide. He exhaled sharply, trying to look calm. He shouldn’t bother nor alarm you but you…

Your Plato keychain.

He placed his arms on the table and buried his head in it, biting his lower lip harshly just to stop whatever noise he’ll make that would signify his desperate need to stop himself from crying.

He’s going to apologize―

 ―is what he thought but Kise Ryota has no idea how. He, or his friends, never truly apologized for what happened in middle school, and he’s not even familiar with this kind of feeling because he never really gets into emotional quarrels.

He’s actually thinking now. So that’s why your arguments felt so bittersweet.

L/n-chan’s my soulmate and I… I did that.

He failed you.

“Kise, what are you doing?! Stand up already!”

The sounds of his teammates and coach calling for him felt like background noise at this point.

Ah, he’s thinking too much, his brain is gonna hurt.

“And what are your idiot brain cells doing? Playing basketball with your brain?”

Kise clearly remembers your sneer as you said that.

He should really get on the court now but how in the world is he going to confess to you when all he’s ever experienced is being confessed to? If that’s not enough of a challenge, you literally hate him right now.

You look at the time on your phone.

6:01 AM

Gosh, you forgot to sleep.

You honestly feel so tired but that doesn’t matter right now. You need to do better. You need to do so much better so that stupid dumb blonde can’t even speak in your direction anymore.

You need to be better than him. You have to beat the audacity that his talents gave him. It’s fine if you don’t play basketball but you are going to have to be better than him in everything else. As for now, nothing matters but making him shut up.

So you walk to school not noticing the weather or the dog.

Kise fidgets in his seat. He’s imagined the scenario a million times in his head now.

He can do it. The technique is to strike first.

But when he saw you walk inside the classroom, his face felt frozen.

You look so tired.

Did you even sleep? Why are you… it’s his fault. It’s his fault, oh my god, shame on him. He’s going to talk to you now.

“L/n-chan!” he exclaims as soon as you take a seat, making you jolt on your chair. He faces you with a serious expression. Good, you’re looking at him, even if you’re looking like he’s an ugly blob fish that your uncle brought home after a long day of fishing. It’s fine. He has your attention.

“I’m challenging you to a battle!” He points his finger at you. “In the next two weeks, I’ll beat your scores in the exams.”

Ha?

What is he talking about? God, he really is arrogant. Defeat you? Your scores? In the exams? It’s like he knew that you wanted to shut him up and is now wanting to make you shut up.

You glare at him.

His whole-body freezes but recovers immediately.

Why did he say that?! Wasn’t he supposed to apologize and confess to you? Oh my god, Ryota, how in the world are you so famous with girls?

He clears his throat. “I-I won’t lose so… there!” And immediately turned his back to you.

If I win, I’ll tell them how I feel.

Oh, but he has to study now.

But just to make sure, he grabbed his phone from his bag and sent an email to his friend.

‘Kurokocchi can I please please borrow your rolly pencil next next week?? >.<’

Thank god his friend agreed after three days of him begging because there was no way in hell Midorimacchi would lend him his.

Despite the rolly pencil, he still studied his hardest for the remaining days even during his break time in practice. Kasamatsu didn’t have the heart to kick him for it because it was shocking to his friend studying no matter how many times he saw it.

You slouched as you deadpanned the big poster revealing everyone’s exam results.

Of course he didn’t defeat you―actually, he wasn’t even close.

You were at first place and he was at 29.

Now, where was the idiot who decided to challenge you? Ah, he’s behind the tree.

You stare at Kise, waiting for him to reveal himself but he didn’t. He stayed behind that tree and was late on 4th period.

When lunch time arrived, you smiled. “Congratulations on 29th place, Kise-kun.”

He felt like crying but his lips remained in a pout as he ate his lunch. Kasamatsu might look for him right now because he’s been slacking with practice but he doubts his senpai would go out of his way during lunch.

“I really thought you had some sort of genius hiding in that skull of yours. Is all that’s in there is a deflated basketball?” You mocked a laugh. “It must be, it even suits your posture right now.”

He kept blinking, trying to block your mocking voice.

Why the hell do you sound so sweet? He knows he lost but right now he’s honestly just feeling so giddy that you’re talking to him, though upset that you’re still making fun of him as always.

Maybe he should just be the dumb guy if it means you’re going to talk to him again, though.

Well, he is the dumb guy.

“I swear, if you hate me, just say it to my face. You don’t have to go to such drastic measures―”

“L/n-chan, I like you! What are you talking about?!” he exclaimed, eyes wide. You thought he hates you? Why would you think that? “Even if all we really do is fight, I absolutely adore you! I didn’t really get it myself at first but the more I tried to think, the more I realized how much I like you.” He sniffles.

“Fucking pardon?” Kise flinches. Why does your voice sound like that? He thought even if you didn’t like him very much, the fact that your soulmates would at least make your reaction a little nicer. Why do you sound so angry?

The nerve! Oh my god, for how long could his arrogance make him live in this earth? Surely, he must be running out, right? But he said he likes you and he sounds like he means it.

Who cares? He’s pompous, stupidly tall, and just overall stupid! How dare he challenge you only to then declare his feelings after losing?

Do jocks really not have any manners?

But you wouldn’t deny that it felt nice to hear his feelings for you.

Just maybe…

“‘At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet’,” you recite. “Plato once said that.”

“Huh?”

“But clearly, you can’t be one even if you’re in love,” you sigh. “Denied.”

“Huh?”

Who are you kidding? Even if, let’s say, he’s your soulmate, you wouldn’t want to be in a relationship with a man who can’t even get to the top ten in the charts.

“L/n-chan?”

You give him a sharp glare. “You’re really expecting me to be all blushy and kind just because you said you like me? You must be kidding. Aren’t you supposed to beat me first before you confess your feelings?”

He blinks, then he blinks again.

And again.

And again.

“T-then…” Stupid Ryota! You should’ve known this is how they are! They literally tease you whenever they look at your direction and does nothing else, of course this won’t be easy! “could you help me out?”

You chuckled. “Now you have the nerve to make me help you? What chivalry!”

You relax in your seat, still facing the flustered blonde, not removing the smirk on your face. “But, well… can you even keep up with me?”

The fact that he reached 29th place is nowhere near impressive for you but the improvement of his scores is definitely noticeable. This guy usually fails all his exams.

His face brightened.

“What? Too much of a dummy to speak?”

“I’ll follow you forever y/ncchi!” he beams. “I promise I’ll do my hardest even if all you do is teach me while mocking me―”

“Kise!” The booming voice of his senpai suddenly shook him out of his lovesickness.

“Uh―Kasamatsu-senpai?! Why…?”

“Exams are over so you can practice now, right…?”

Oh god, he can feel his senpai’s anger to the point that Kise’s considering jumping out of the window.

He looks at you, readying his pouty face so that you’d help him only to see your sneering face. “Oh my, oh my, you should go talk to your teammate, Kise-kun~”

Should’ve known you’d react like this.

“Yes, senpai!” the blonde huffs and jogs toward his upperclassman.

“Say y/ncchi,” Kise spoke as he takes your bag. “Can we stop by somewhere? It won’t be far, I promise.”

“Where is it?” you ask. “It’s only been two days and you already want to take me somewhere?” You grin as you wiggle your eyebrows.

He laughs. “It’s not like that―”

“At least take me to dinner first, honestly, how are you so popular with girls? Is the only requirement being an athlete and a model?” you grumble while crossing your arms.

He smiles softly at you. It’s honestly funny how you both still get into petty arguments but instead of that bittersweet feeling, he’s now really happy to have a nonsensical banter with you.

“I swear, my intentions are pure.” He raises his right hand to a salute and continued on walking with you. “I just have to return something to a friend.”

You hum in response.

“Ah, but if you want, we could stop by for dinner,” he mumbles, looking down while playing with his fingers. “I mean… if you want to, of course, but if you wanna go home that’s totally fine too!”

“Oh, but I have to study today,” said you. You took a peek at his expression and it was obvious that he was about to pout but is stopping himself from doing so. “Kidding,” you giggle.

He softly chuckles. “Well, let’s go now.”

“Are you sure I can wait beside you?” you mumble.

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Kurokocchi wouldn’t mind meeting you―”

“Good afternoon,” a soft voice suddenly greets.

Blue hair?

“Kurokocchi! Here’s your rolly pencil,” Kise chimed, handing him the pencil. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

“It’s no problem. Did you get the perfect score you were aiming for?” the boy, ‘Kurokocchi,’ asked in which the blonde sighs.

“No, but I have y/ncchi helping me study now!” Your friend smiles, pulling you closer to him by your shoulder. “This is l/n y/n-chan, y/ncchi, he’s Kuroko Tetsuya-kun.”

“It’s nice to meet you, l/n-san,” the boy greets.

“Yes, nice to meet you too, Kuroko-kun…”

Tetsuya-kun…

“It’s nice meeting the both of you but I’ll be going now. I’ll see you both some time.”

“Yeah,” Kise nods. “Let’s hang out sometime with Midorimacchi!”

The blue haired boy smiles and nods as he walks away.

You stare at that shade of blue until he slowly disappears in the distance.

“Hey, Ryota-kun,” you call.

“Hm?” he looks at you, you look back.

“Are we soulmates?”

“Huh?”

“It’s just… that Kuroko Tetsuya-kun and the rolly pencils…”

“Huh… so that’s what you dreamed about me?”

“What? You know? That we’re soulmates―wait, we’re actually soulmates?”

He blinks. “Did I not tell you?”

[outerbankies]

looking out for you: no hope — rafe cameron

looking out for you masterlist

summary: rafe thought his dad just wanted him to take you to midsummers, but how does he reconcile his budding feelings for you with what his dad asks him to do for the family business?

pairings: unrequited!rafe x reader, john b x reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol, drugs, angst (who am i)

a/n: omg… is this tumblr user outerbankies posting something other than new light? who would’ve thought! shout-out to @taylathornton for telling me to write this and letting me rant about it ❤️ not canon rafe (i should just put this on my masterlist at this point tbh!)

my writing

Rafe doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look more bored. You’ve been using your salad fork to push the same few pieces of kale around for the last ten minutes, listening to Ward and your dad drone on and on about whatever—business, politics, sports. Rafe had lost track at some point, too. And Rose and your mom have been discussing god knows what kind of island gossip as they keep the wine flowing, leaving you and Rafe to sit there in silence for most of the meal.

You haven’t paid him a second glance since his dad and Rose dragged him to this dinner tonight, giving him a tight lipped smile and polite head nod as the Camerons had arrived. His dad hadn’t even asked if Rafe wanted to go, just demanded he put on the button down the maid had ironed and told him what time they were leaving that night.

Rafe knew you well enough. You guys had mutual friends in school, but he wouldn’t really call you a friend. Couldn’t tell you one time the two of you had ever hung out one-on-one, didn’t have you on his Close Friends. You were Topper’s neighbor, too, so after graduation he’d seen you in passing a few times. You never even had a class together in high school, he thinks. You were probably too smart for him.

But you were hot, he wasn’t going to deny that.

So even though you paid him no attention as you both nearly died of boredom at this dinner, he wasn’t mad about having nothing to do but look at you across the table as you snuck glances at your phone in your lap. He watched as you stayed silent for most of dinner, your interest only piquing a few times.

“How’s that marina boy I recommended for you doing on the boats?” Ward had asked your father.

“John B? Ah, we love the guy,” your dad smiled.

“Good,” Ward nods. “Hard worker. We had a bit of an indiscretion a while ago, but he owned up to it.”

“Sounds like him. He cut his hand the other day when Y/n was here alone. She patched him up, and the poor kid—he was just begging to take a pay cut for the hours of work he lost, and the blood he got all over her jeans,” your dad says, laughing. Rafe catches the embarrassed way you train your eyes on the table cloth, the slightest lift to your lips.

“Maid couldn’t help the jeans. Had to throw them out,” your mom joins in. “But he’s a nice young man.”

“Yeah, well. This was different,” Ward laughs awkwardly, bringing his wine to his lips. “Had to do my due diligence. Can’t trust a pogue for anything these days.”

Your fork clatters to your plate loudly.

“John B’s amazing. He does a great job and we absolutely trust him,” you said, shooting Ward a look.

Rafe nearly chokes on his wine. It’s probably the first time you’ve spoken all night. And he’d never expect you to be so stern; he’s surprised you could even face off with his dad like that. Your parents aren’t phased, but Rafe can physically feel how uncomfortable his dad and Rose are. It causes the slightest giddiness in Rafe, who has to look down at his plate while his dad stammers an apology.

“So, Y/n, any big plans for the summer?” Rose asks, changing the subject.

“Just working for my dad,” you say, Rafe watching you shoot a smile to the man sitting at the head of the table. A genuine smile, nothing like how he’d look at his own dad.

“How lovely. Rafe is as well,” his dad says, glancing over at his son. Rafe just nods, shooting you an awkward smile when you look at him, too, nodding your head before going back to pushing your kale around.

Your wine glass is empty, Rafe notices. He’s moving before he can think, picking up the bottle of white wine sitting in between the two of you to offer you a refill. You just shake your head at him.

“Driving later tonight,” you explain, barely glancing up at him before looking down at your watch. “Actually, dad, can I be excused?”

“Sure,” your dad shrugs, looking at your mom, who Rafe notices also just nods. Rafe’s jealous. And kind of mad you’re leaving him here to fend for himself.

“Well, before you run off,” Ward says, sending Rose a pointed look.

You just pause where you’re standing behind your chair, furrowing your eyebrows. You shoot Rafe the briefest glance, and he just shrugs, as confused as you are.

“Your mother and I had the loveliest idea, Y/n,” Rose says, glancing at Rafe. He doesn’t like where this going. “Why don’t the two of you go to Midsummers together this year?”

What?

“The two of who?”

“You and Rafe, Y/n,” your mom tuts, laughing.

Rafe immediately sits up straighter in his chair, looking at his dad. His dad responds with a hard stare, like he’s supposed to know this was what tonight was about.

“Um,” he says, dumbly. He looks at Rose for help.

“We just think you two would look great together,” Rose gushes.

And then it all clicks for Rafe.

It’s business. That’s what this dinner had been about, after all. And here he was, thinking his dad wanted to bring him along to help. To step up to the plate, get this investment deal with your father pushed through. He should’ve known he was just being used for the one thing he might actually consider himself useful at: girls.

You’re looking at him. Rafe forces a smile because he feels his dad looking at him too. You barely give it any thought, just shrugging, looking at your dad, who nods his head. “Sure. Why not?”

“Uh, yeah. Okay,” Rafe says, finding himself a little shocked you’d even agreed.

It was just Midsummers, you went with Kelce last year and it didn’t mean anything. No big deal. But… still.

“We can discuss outfits and stuff later, yeah? Or,” you say, turning to Rose and your mom, painting on a smile. “I’m sure you two have it all figured out.”

“Leave it to us,” Rose says, a sickly sweet smile on her face. Rafe wants to roll his eyes.

“I sure will,” you mutter, and Rafe detects a hint of agitation in your voice. He has to bite back a grin as you take your exit. “Nice to see you all.”

And with that, you walk out of the dining room, apologizing profusely to one of the kitchen staff you accidentally bump into as you do, a woman who just smiles and pats your shoulder, clearly accustomed to your demeanor.

“Rafe,” Ward says, interrupting Rafe’s thoughts as he tilts his head in the direction of where you’d just headed off. “You’re excused as well. Why don’t you walk her out?”

“Oh,” he breathes, dropping his napkin onto his plate. “Yeah, sure.”

Rafe finds you in the entryway, fixing your hair in one of the mirrors. He leans up against the doorway behind you, trying to catch your eye in the reflection. He doesn’t, so he clears his throat until you glance at him. It doesn’t startle you, so you must have known he was there the entire time and were just ignoring him. Nice.

“Where are you sneaking off to?” he asks, realizing he hadn’t thought of what he was going to say once he did get your attention.

“Not sneaking off anywhere,” you retort, putting on some lip gloss. “My parents don’t care, promise.”

His eyes track the movement, the way you rub your lips together, thumb coming up to catch some that had gone over your lip line.

“Am I gonna see you at Topper’s tonight?”

Your tone remains even, not one ounce of interest in any part of your body language. “Is he having a thing?”

“Uh… yeah,” Rafe says, surprised you didn’t know. Not like there are many places for people your age to go party on an island this small. And you look dressed for one. “Should be fun.”

“Well, Luce wants to go to the Boneyard,” you say, twisting and turning in your outfit, adjusting your tank top straps and the waistband of your shorts. “So that’s where I’m going.”

“Tourons?”

“Yep.”

“Didn’t think that was your type, Y/n,” he remarks.

“It’s not.”

“So what is? Pogues?” he laughs.

You don’t reciprocate, just looking at your watch, rooted to the spot like you’re waiting to be dismissed by him.

“Alright,” Rafe says, going in for one last move. “Well, if you get sick of cheap beer and slumming it with the help, come find me.”

And he’s not sure why he’s flirting with you. You’re definitely nice to look at, you have to go to the dance together anyways—and it’s honestly a second nature to him. It could be any combination of the three.

You look at him weirdly. “Why? So I can listen to you say more disgustingly classist things like that?”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit, Y/n,” Rafe says. “Look at your house.”

“I have to go pick up Lucy,” you say, turning to the door.

Rafe’s thinking about his dad, the way he’d looked at him at dinner, what he’s expecting of him, and then he’s speaking again.

“I just meant, we’re going to Midsummers together, yeah?” he says. “It might be a good idea to just get more… comfortable? Around each other.”

Rafe winces in embarrassment as soon as he says it, especially when you can’t hide your amusement.

“Rafe, it’s Midsummers. Since when is it comfortable?”

“You have a point,” he breathes, wondering if making a fool of himself has finally gotten you to ease up on him.

“We’ve been doing this since we were kids. You’ll probably be doing lines in the bathroom by the third song,” you say, pulling your keys out of your bag and opening the door. “And I’m definitely dipping after an hour tops. We’ll do the outfits, take some pictures, I’ll stand with you and try not to look bored while you rub elbows. Do a dance or two for our parents, and then we’re free. We’ll be fine, Rafe.”

“That’s not—”

“Have a nice night. If Kelce is there tell him I said hey.”

—

“Dude, she’s like—trust me. That door is closed. Like locked, and dead bolted shut. With a moat around it. I’ve tried,” Kelce says, pushing a shot toward Rafe. Topper just nods in agreement.

“But she’s hot,” Rafe points out, throwing the shot back.

“Of course she is,” Kelce laughs. “But I promise you, you’re wasting your time.”

“It’s just for my dad,” Rafe says, missing the way his friends throw significant glances at each other. “Her dad’s part of some stupid deal he’s been trying to push through for a while.”

“Whatever you say, dude,” Topper laughs. “Just don’t get lost in the sauce.”

“You guys aren’t serious?” Rafe says, pushing a bunch of discarded cups out of the way so he can start cutting lines on the counter. People surrounding them in the kitchen flock to him as he dumps the white powder of the bag he keeps in his wallet. “She’s just a girl. And it’s just Midsummers. Kelce, you took her last year.”

“Indeed,” Kelce says. “And she spent the entire night talking to one of the wait staff about unionizing. I wish I was kidding.”

“Huh,” Rafe says, eyes widening. Who were you?

“Yup.”

“You know, I catch John B spitting game at her like every other day while he works on her dad’s boats,” Topper laughs, shaking his head. “Pogue has no fucking idea.”

“No shit?” Rafe laughs, clearing his throat before snorting a line and passing the bill he’d rolled up to Kelce. “Maybe she’s into pogues. She went to the Boneyard tonight, turned me down about coming here.”

“You asked her to come?”

Rafe shrugs, focusing on collecting money from the peers around him shoving their way to his side for a hit. He lets a few sunburned tourons get away with a free sample. “Offered. Again, for my dad.”

He opens his mouth to tell Kelce you said hey, but stops himself for some reason.

“Well, think again,” Topper says, causing Rafe to furrow his eyebrows. He looks to where Topper’s vision is trained, and there you are. You’re standing in the living room with your friend, Lucy, the two of you glancing around like you’d just arrived. Lucy spots what she’s looking for, and you just roll your eyes as she runs off, smiling a little as you watch her go.

Rafe’s grabbing a hard seltzer from the opened box on the counter before he can think, cutting through the group of people about to blow through his supply for free as he moves to you.

“Y/l/n. You made it after all,” he greets, clocking the way you again have no reaction to his presence. It’s admirable at this point. “Brought you a drink.”

You hold up your keys. “I’m driving. Remember?”

“I can take you home later,” he offers. Your eyes scan over his face, zero in on his pupils and the skin right under his nose, pointing to where he has some leftover white powder, using your own face as a guide.

“Yeah, no thanks, bud,” you smile.

Rafe’s cheeks burn as he rubs a hand under his nose, brushing it off as quickly as he can. His mind is racing trying to pick up the thread of conversation before it gets worse. “You want a bump? On the house.”

Girls usually loved that one. But not you. Now the indifference is gone, replaced with pure disgust. It embarrasses the hell out of Rafe, but also excites him to no end that he’s finally getting a reaction out of you. That might be the coke talking. Or thinking.

All he knows is something zips down his spine when you finally give him more than a millisecond of undivided attention, even if it’s negative.

“No, Cameron. Driving,” you repeat. Rafe nods, throwing his hands up in surrender as he leans into the counter behind you both.

“Fair enough. How’d you end up here anyway?” Rafe tries. “Touron didn’t work out? Couldn’t find a marina rat to keep you occupied?”

You look caught out for a second, but then you’re shaking your head again. “If you must know, Lucy saw Eddie post on Snapchat that she was here, so,” you sigh, pulling out your phone again, swiping through notifications. “Here I am until she’s ready to leave.”

“She shouldn’t be the only one having fun,” Rafe says, cracking open the can in his hand and offering it to you again. “Don’t be boring, Y/n.”

You’re still looking at your phone, sighing when you finally make eye contact with him again.

“Actually, it’s called being a friend. Which I’m sure you wouldn’t understand, seeing as you keep offering me drugs and alcohol when I’ve already told you three times that I don’t want anything.”

Rafe can’t resist rolling his eyes. “That’s dramatic. Just want you to have fun.”

“Why?” you ask, looking up at him in genuine curiosity.

He doesn’t have an answer, so he doesn’t give one.

“Cause I’m your Midsummers date?” you tease.

“Oh god,” Rafe groans. “My dad’s idea. Swear, I didn’t even know he was gonna pull that.”

“Sure,” you nod, patting him on the shoulder. One of Rafe’s customers calls him in from the kitchen, yelling something about needing more. “Stay safe tonight, Rafe. Maybe take it easy on the yayo. You’re sweating through your shirt.”

And with that, you walk off to the other side of the living room, leaving Rafe more confused than ever.

—

It’s not a crush—at least he thinks it isn’t. He’s attracted to you, sure. And he likes the back and forth, although it doesn’t seem very playful on your end. He’s actually about 70 percent sure you despise him at this point. But he couldn’t get a good read on you for the life of him.

And he still gets to take you to Midsummers, which he’d been looking forward to, wondering if a little bit of alcohol and the promise to please both of your parents would be enough to get the two of you on more solid ground.

Until his dad ruined it.

“Just make it happen, Rafe.”

“Dad, we’re barely even friends. I haven’t even taken her on a date,” Rafe says. “Not that she’d say yes if I asked.”

“Maybe if you were a bit more proactive about our business needs, you wouldn’t be in this position,” his father argues. “Just ask her out, Rafe. It isn’t rocket science.”

“Dad, c’mon—”

“Her father is stonewalling me on this investment, and I want it,” his dad says. “And she’s next in line. So I need you to get in there, Rafe. Ask her out, treat her right for a little bit, get her to talk to her dad, and, for the love of god, don’t fuck it up. Can you manage that?”

“I don’t know,” he breathes, honestly. He could already picture you just laughing in his face. Or some miraculous scenario where you did say yes. And then what? He’d have to take you on fake dates, lead you on. Sounds like a mess waiting to happen. “I’m just… not sure if I’m there yet. Do you think she—”

Ward sighs, hands on his hips.

“Listen, I really need you to step it up,” Ward says. He puts a hand on the back of Rafe’s head, making him look him in the eyes. Rafe gulps. “I’m counting on you.”

“Dad—”

But his father is having none of it, continuing full steam ahead. “Rafe, just buy her some nice flowers, pick her up before Midsummers. She’s just another pretty girl—shouldn’t this be your specialty?”

“It’s not that simple,” Rafe grumbles.

“Get it done before you guys join us, alright?” Ward sighs with a sense of finality. “I want to see a happy couple on that dance floor.”

“Okay, I can… I can try,” Rafe nods, blowing out a breath of air. He looks at his dad earnestly. “But no promises. I really think it’d be better if I just waited… we could get to know each other more. I don’t know.”

He’s trying to level with his dad—he’ll do his dirty work if it means getting to be around you. Simple enough, and he probably would’ve just rolled his eyes and said ‘whatever’ if it had been anyone else. Literally anyone besides the girl who defends random pogues at dinner and parties at the boneyard, blows him off when any other girl at that party would’ve loved a free line.

But Ward just fixes him with a hard stare, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“I don’t have that kind of time. If you’re going to do it, it has to be tonight. And don’t bother showing up if you can’t get this done, son. Who knows—maybe you two will hit it off?”

He leaves his son standing out there alone on the dock, walking back inside to presumably get the entire family ready for the night.

As if getting reamed by his father wasn’t enough to piss Rafe off, as usual, he hears a clatter on the Druthers beside him. Rafe turns from where he’d been looking at the water, his eyes following the sound until he sees John B, acting like he hadn’t just been listening to that entire conversation.

“What fuck are you looking at, pogue?”

“Nothing, nothing,” John B says, looking contemplative. “So, you and Y/n?”

“None of your business.”

“Right,” John B nods, squirming. “Well. I actually have to cut out early today, could you tell your dad—”

“I’m not doing shit for you. Maybe he’ll actually fire you this time,” Rafe spits. “Like you deserve.”

“Okay. I’m just gonna leave now. Uh, personal matters to attend to,” he says, nodding his head over and over. He gives Rafe one final, weighted look, before passing him on the dock and leaving the same way his father just had.

Rafe just watches him leave in confusion, before pulling out his phone to set this stupid plan into motion.

Hey. I know we were gonna meet with our families but let’s walk in together. I’ll pick you up

why?

It just makes more sense. We can go later like you wanted

uhh ok. idc either way. just text me when you’re like an hour out

You only need an hour to get ready for me?

just text me please

—

Rafe tries to feign a sense of nonchalance on the way to your house, making sure his hands aren’t gripped too tightly around the steering wheel.

He just needs to get this done. For the business. Why would you say no to him? He’s Rafe Cameron.

When he went to pick up his suit, he gawked at the baby blue color Rose had chosen. But when he saw your flower crown it made sense. And Sarah had even teased him a little once when she came home from the mainland with you, after you’d gone together to pick up your dresses. He’d definitely watched and re-watched Sarah’s Instagram stories of the two of you smiling and looking like you were having a great time in Chapel Hill. He didn’t even know you were capable of smiling like that, looking so pretty while you do, because he had never seen it before.

You were never like that with him.

And Sarah had seen your dress, telling Rafe he was probably going to love it. So he has that to worry about, too.

Rafe didn’t think you’d want him to go to the door when he got there, preferring to just get in his car and get on the road. He contemplates it for a second though, almost opening the door before just honking when he pulls into your roundabout driveway.

He drums his hands on the steering wheel, weighing his options for the night. He could not ask you, and tell his dad he did. Keep that charade up for as long as possible until someone figured it out.

He could ask you just to pretend with him, even if the lack of genuineness would mean your dad wouldn’t be at all inclined to deal with his. But at least Ward would leave him alone if he did his part.

Rafe sighs and honks a second time when you don’t come down right away, honestly not surprised you’re taking your time, wondering just how low his chances actually are.

He knows he should go to the door after you still don’t come down. Maybe you were just being stubborn. But if he goes to the door with the stupid flowers he bought in hand, there’s a high chance he would just chicken out if he had to look you in the eye, walk you to the car and open the door for you all while you barely paid attention to him.

So he honks one more time, promising to himself that if you could just come get in the car, he can just ask you out off handedly, not making eye contact with focusing on the road as an excuse.

And then Rafe sees you, but you’re not coming out of the front of the house.

You’re slinking through the backyard and coming around the side, an arm outstretched behind you as you come around the corner of the house and began to cut through Topper’s front lawn. Leaving. Without him. At the exact time Rafe had told you he was coming by, which he’d triple checked in his texts before he left.

And trailing behind you is John B Routledge.

The biggest, stupidest grin on his face, holding onto your hand tightly, swinging your arms to and fro. He spins you around, and Rafe finally gets a look at your dress—and Sarah was right. You look beautiful.

You look absolutely beautiful as you’re standing Rafe up to run off with a fucking pogue.

Rafe knows you never liked him, had no hope that you ever would even be able to radiate anything but indifference or discontent around him, until that glimmer of hope he’d gotten at Topper’s party. He knows you guys are just barely acquainted, but he’d be lying if he didn’t still blush thinking about how you told him to stay safe.

But seeing you with John B—he realizes something he hadn’t already known until then.

It’s the same reason he fumbled all of his words around you, why he was always making an ass out of himself for no reason, couldn’t stand having to follow through on what his dad made him do.

Why watching you run off with the boy you’d stood up to his father about, probably ditched him at dinner for, now that he’s reconsidering the way you’d looked over yourself in the mirror before heading to the Boneyard, making yourself pretty for anyone but him metaphorically knocks him on his ass.

Why watching the marina rat who worked on his dad’s boat, who couldn’t give you half of the things you’re accustomed to, the things Rafe could give you with the drop of a hat, pull you into him by your hips and place a kiss on your lips—your expression shifting into a giddy, slightly embarrassed adoration he’d only seen on your face one other time, when your dad talked about John B at dinner—takes the air out of his lungs. This boy who had absolutely nothing to lose if he didn’t get you, not like Rafe did. And he got you anyways.

It’s because—Rafe realizes for the first time—he actually likes you.

He watches in real-time as you type something out on your phone quickly, with one hand as John B still holds your other, tugging you down the street. You finish what you’re doing on your phone and hand it to him, and John B just slides it into his pocket for you and brings you under his arm, the two of you walking down the street to god knows where.

Rafe has to look away when he feels his own phone buzz in his suit pocket.

hey, not gonna make it. don’t feel well. tell my parents for me?

—

tags: @pogueslandia @serrendipiity @mrs-cameron @lemur46 (just realized i forgot to tag you, i’m sorry!)

[letarasstuff]

Ranting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon, I hope you like it :)

Summary: In the middle of midterms, Spencer's daughter has enough and for the first time in her life, she rants to the team

Warnings: one swear word, school, school stress, mental breakdown, shitty friends, a bit of angst (but there is fluff to balance that out), weird grammatical sentences that are according to google correct

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________ As a teenager, Spencer was pretty closed off. But this had several reasons, like being a child (or moreover a teen prodigy) at college and getting his first Ph.D, or that he hadn’t had a safety net of people he could have gone to. So as he became a father himself, he tried everything possible to assure his own daughter that her feelings and thoughts are always welcome and valid.

Unfortunately (Y/N) herself has developed the same habit starting high school and ever since Spencer can’t do anything to get her to open up to him. It’s not like they don’t have a good relationship, they have one of the strongest father-daughter bonds the BAU has ever witnessed. The girl simply has other ways to cope with her feelings and how to act them out in the safety of her own four walls. Her father learned to accept it, knowing that he can’t and won’t force her to talk to him.

So what follows now not only shocked Spencer. But also his work family.

It’s the time every teen in high school dreads: Midterms.

A word a teacher can mutter and a shiver goes through the rows of students in the classroom. Or at least it feels like it to (Y/N). She takes her school work very seriously. In her mind every single grade determines her future.

The rational part in her knows that the grades in her sophomore year doesn’t matter. That they are even long forgotten when she graduates. There is just so much pressure on her. But it isn’t coming from her father.

Spencer is pretty laid-back regarding school. He knows his daughter is trying her best and that it’s just the tenth grade and not the end of the world. School is not everything life has to offer, especially he has to know it as a scholar and profiler flying through the country in a jet back and forth.

It’s (Y/N)’s classmates, who pressure her to get good grades.

“We depend on you and your notes”, Tyler exclaims as he jogs next to her through the busy hallway. “Ty, I know. But I don’t have the time to get them done for all of you to understand by tomorrow. They are still a mess that only I know to see through. I still have to finish my history project and I go to my Dad’s work this afternoon, which means I won’t get much done and I still have to do the homework I got today before sorting my notes for the test in two days.”

At her locker, the boy still doesn’t let go of the subject. “Do you want to say that our grades don’t matter as much as yours? Because this would be a true selfish statement.” Maybe it is the lack of sleep, because she pulled three all-nighters in two weeks, or the fact that she is slowly getting fed up being treated like an unpaid private teacher, but (Y/N) can’t stop her sassy answer. “Tyler, you wouldn't even know how to tell apart your ass from your head if it weren’t for me and my help in biology. You wouldn’t even know how to spell selfish if I didn’t let you copy my answers in spelling tests in elementary school.”

Done with the day and her friend’s shit, she slams the door of her locker shut and leaves a flabbergasted boy behind. Half an hour later the teenager enters the bullpen with her visitor badge clipped to the pocket of her sweater.

On the way there she was fuming. The audacity of her friends. It’s not only Tyler, who tried to get her notes of a unit, she was the only one listening, even though the teacher said loud and clear that this will be important for midterms. A few other friends out of the group she usually hangs out with texted her the same question of when her notes will be given to them. Understandably, (Y/N) comes into the office in the worst mood anyone from the team ever saw, including her own father.

“Hey Sweetheart”, he tries to greet her with a hug. Even though both of them are not big on touch, they are extra affectionate with people they are close to.

To everybody’s surprise, the girl takes a step back, effectively avoiding his open arms. “Hey”, she grumbles out before taking a seat in the chair already waiting for her. Nobody is allowed to sit in this one, except for her. Not even Derek has ever put his butt on this one, knowing the sacredness of it.

Without sparing anyone another glance, (Y/N) gets the needed stuff for that history project out and continues working on it. The team resorts to throwing a questiongly look to Spencer, who shrugs his shoulders with a look of despair. So everyone resumes their work without even daring to say a word.

The general silence is occasionally broken by an unnerved sigh leaving the teenager’s lips. “Is the conference room occupied?” She asks, her voice clearly showing how annoyed she is. Her father shakes his head. “No, not that I know of. Do you need help with your school work?” This is obviously the wrong thing to say. “Do I look like a baby? I don’t need anyone to help with that, I have been going to school for ten years now, I think I can handle this project as perfectly fine as I did since day one. It’s just your keyboard typing that will be the reason for my first grey hairs if I don’t get out of here soon.”

Quickly (Y/N) gathers her stuff and storms off into the conference room. Immediately the team crowds her father’s desk. “What happened?” “Who hurt her?” “Go, talk to her!”

“Guys, I don’t know what’s going on. I’m at the same loss as all of you. The only thing I know is that (Y/N) is under pressure, because it’s midterms. But judging by the way she reacted, I don’t want to go near her. It’s safer to try to defuse a bomb than talk to her in that mood. Last time I saw something similar, her favorite show was declared finished, got a revival and then didn’t get one and nobody mentioned it again. She was so mad, I think it took three years of her life.” A silence of uncertainty spreads through the room.

“What about we give her some room until she calms down?” JJ suggests, being unsure herself how to deal with a teenage girl. But the rest agrees and goes back to filling out their paperwork.

This continues for about 20 minutes, till a loud bang and a frustrated scream is heard followed by “DON’T THEY WANT TO GET IT OR ARE THEY JUST STUPID?!” Alerted by that, seven people (yes, even Dave and Aaron leave their offices, while Penelope was already in the bullpen) storm into the round table room only to see a more than outraged (Y/N).

“Sweetheart”, Spencer speaks to her in the gentlest voice they ever heard from him and slowly moves towards his daughter, “What’s going on?”

Her response is delayed by several deep breaths she has to take in order to be able to talk without seething. “ALL OF MY SO CALLED FRIENDS ARE ASKING ME FOR MY NOTES, like do I look like a personal tutor? And when I tell them that I got a life, a life outside of school and grades, because otherwise I go completely bananas, just like all of you say, they get mad. Now they act like I’m the most selfish person in the whole world. I’m so done, can’t they understand that they are old enough to take care of their own stuff? I’m not responsible for them, their grades or anything regarding their lives. Otherwise I would be the mother of at least four toddlers and one baby and at the age of sixteen I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I know friends are there for eachother, and I really don’t mind helping them from time to time. But what they are doing is terror. Terror.

“Oh and don’t get me started on their tormention if I get something lower than an A-. Then they suddenly transform into geniuses, like they suddenly know everything possible. Of course, I’m the dumb one. I should have studied more.

“I am under an insane amount of pressure, because I know they rely on me, but enough is enough. I tell them that if anyone asks me for anything school related again and they act like I owe them an answer, I’ll cut off all ties to all of them. What am I, a roboter just there for their needs, without some of my own?”

After her long rant, (Y/N) takes a couple more breaths. It’s pretty much the only sound right now, because the team is stunned. None of them heard her talking, no ranting, like that. Not even her Spencer has seen her like that.

Realizing what she just said, the teenager fidgets nervously with her hands. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you know, blow up like that. I, I really don’t know where this came from.” Nervously she scratches the back of her head. It really wasn’t her intention to let it out like that. Her plan was just to come home tonight and deal in the confinement of her own four walls with all of her feelings. It’s easier to be honest to yourself when you are alone than having an audience watching you losing it.

Suddenly (Y/N) finds herself engulfed in a massive bear hug. “Oh, my sweet sweet summerchild. You needed to rant to us and I’m so happy you did. Even though your uhm, friends, sound like big douchebags, we can help you sort something out”, Penelope tells her while keeping her arms around the teen.

“Just like lil mama said, we are here for you, Baby Reid. Don’t ever be afraid to tell us something, may it even be as small as you having stubbed your toe.” Morgan ruffles her hair and gives her a reassuring smile.

Just like them everybody shows her their support, be it encouraging words or affectionately gestures. Rossi invites her to a calm and quiet dinner at his mansion, cooking class included. Hotch assures her that she will get through this rough patch, with or without these fake people. JJ suggests (Y/N) comes over to her home and she can participate in a family game night at their home.

When it’s Emily’s turn, she makes sure to get her message loud and clear by looking the teen in the eyes (not as deep as it sounds, because some people make an intense stare really uncomfortable): “If those kids give you a hard time again, tell me. I’ll pay them a visit in classic protective godmother fashion, because nobody traits MY godchild like this. Just give me their names and I’ll handle the rest.” Obviously she doesn’t say this aloud in front of everyone, else Hotch will have her head, knowing she goes through with her threats. Instead she whispers it into the teen’s ear. Still, it makes (Y/N) smile, having such a strong support net.

Sensing the family’s need for time of their own to talk about the whole situation, the team leaves the room. Spencer gestures to her to take a seat after moving two chairs opposite each other. He wants her not to feel trapped.

“Do you still want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now, we can do it tonight, tomorrow, in a week or in a month. Just, please don’t shut me out. I know it’s difficult to be a teenager, especially in times like these. But it won’t do you any good keeping all of this for yourself. Today you took it out through anger. How will it look next time?

I don’t want to pressure you into talking. We don’t need to. We can find other coping mechanisms. We can try and reduce your stress. Anything. But we both know that this is not the right way.” While speaking, he takes his daughter’s hand, making her look up to him.

(Y/N) nods. Her eyes fill with tears. “I just can’t keep going like this.” She whispers, feeling all the stress, pressure and the intensity of the last few weeks crashing down on her. Quickly Spencer gathers her in his arms, letting her cry in his embrace.

After calming down, she looks up to her father with bloodshot eyes. “We can talk tonight. But I need you to do me a favor.” “Anything”, he assures her, stroking a hand along her back. “I, uhm, I need a new phone. I may or may not have thrown mine against the wall after getting a text from Tyler.”

Spencer looks at the crooked cell laying on the floor, the screen cracked. “I think we can get that sorted”, he tells her with a smile and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

The two of them leave the office earlier, having many things to talk about and many problems to solve. But with the help of her family (Y/N) gets through this, a time where people unfortunately only like her for her smarts and not being herself.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187 @kneelforloki

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

[postalenha]

on and off % jake

pairing: playboybf!jake x reader genre: angst, fluff, lovers to exes, exes to lovers idek word count: 1.89k words requested: yes / prompt 14, “we called it off again last night.” / 18, “it’s been you all along.” / 19, “for the first time, i had something to lose.” synopsis: immaturity isn't needed in a relationship, but that seems to be jake's and your's specialty. warnings: curse words, mentions of drinking, throwing up, su!cide, toxic relationship, making out

"i thought you're going with jake today?" sunghoon asked as you hop into his car.

you rolled your eyes at the thought of riding in the same vehicle as the boy, "no, we called it off again last night."

"again?!" the boy exclaimed, "y/n, that's probably the nth time you guys called it off." he sighed in disbelief, "that's not how relationships work." he commented.

judgingly looking at his way, "yeah? like you know any better?"

"shut up." he started the engine, "this isn't about my love life."

"whatever." you blurt out, "i guess being bad at handling relationship runs in our blood." you jokingly said, as your cousin laugh.

he tilt his head smiling, "damn, of all things that can be passed down, that's what we got."

"well, at least we got good looks. that works as a payoff." he added. you agreed at him with a nod, "anyway." you changed the subject.

"i'm planning on ending it with jake." you stated. he looked at you, "no shit, you sure?" he assured, "to be honest, whatever makes you happy." he added, looking like he wanted to say something but he decided not to.

"don't apologize." you led before he could even say sorry for insisting that you should date his best friend, sim jaeyun.

"i'm not- okay whatever." he almost want to deny the urge but he saw you looking at him with a teasing face, "i just feel a little responsible for all the stress this relationship have caused you." he scratch the back of his head, as you slap his arm.

"shut up, dating him was my decision. you don't have to blame yourself for all the bad decisions i made for myself. i'm an adult now." you told him.

parking his car he nod his head, "okay. just remember i'm here if things are bad, okay?"

"okay." you said, before going out of his car. walking at the corridor of your building, trying to see if jake arrived earlier than you today.

and he certainly did. there he is on his designated seat beside the window, silently watching as the wilted leaves fall down from the tree.

the clock ticks time faster than you expected and your professor came in, not able to call out for jake's name to even talk to him.

sitting down to a chair, you told yourself that you'll talk to him later. and here you are, in front of jake sim at the rooftop of your university's main building.

it might be your lucky day for no one else is here but the two of you. this place is usually cramped with so many people and miraculously today isn't one of those days.

this may be one of the many signs sent from above that this relationship should end as it wasn't right from the beginning.

your blood boils as your cousin sunghoon pushes you into the table of his friend group, "come on! you wouldn't lose anything! he just want to talk to you." he shouts.

"then tell him i don't want to!" you shout back a little annoyed. the last thing you want to do tonight is talk to the famous serial dater, jake sim. "for i know, he just wants the best out of me!"

"come on! jake's not like that!" he defended his friend. to be honest, sunghoon is the last person you should be ranting to. for he is just like his friend, they play with girl's hearts for fun.

you rolled your eyes as you reach the table of ego. the decision of naming that wasn't yours, but the other students. they called this the table of ego because everyone in here got some solid ego. heeseung, jay, sunghoon, jake. all of them.

"y/n! you actually came!" heeseung cheered as soon as he saw you, he scooted a little bit on his right to leave some space between him and jake, "come sit!"

sitting beside him was probably one of the decisions you will forever regret in your life. the memory of that night was a blur. you barely recall anything that happened then.

the only thing that you remember was when jake was reaching for a kiss, you accidentally threw up on him before passing out.

the next day, he told you to be his girlfriend to compensate with the mess you gave his brand new shirt. you said yes just so he could shut up, telling yourself you'll break up with him after a day or two.

two months then passed and you are just breaking everything now. well, it's better late than never. you just didn't expect that he would actually be a good boyfriend.

he's mostly good, not until everything gets complicated even with nothing. you fight over the smallest thing like, not being able to respond to each other's text to someone getting jealous.

it wasn't the best relationship you've been in but it was a good experience. you learned so much and now, it's time to move on.

"what is it that you wanted to say?" jake impatiently snapped you back into reality. you swallowed a good amount of saliva before saying, "let's break up."

it was better to say it forward than beating around the bush. with this, more time and energy will be saved. because even if you give him an explanation he probably won't listen.

he slowly blinked and sighed, looking away he said "okay. if that's what you want." see. he wouldn't even bother asking you why.

well, if you get things easy. they would also go easily, "okay. it was fun meeting you." you head out, leaving him there.

he most probably would not be so upset that he might think of jumping off the building, but you still prayed that he wont.

and he didn't. you can guarantee that as you see that three weeks later jake sim is with a woman walking the same isle as you are. the chances of you seeing him here at this huge mall was small, but never impossible.

you grabbed your friend's hand trying to hide from the sight of the man, "what are you doing-"

"shut up, jake is here." you told here looking at their way, walking into a clothing store. you hurriedly go and sit at a restaurant far from them and ordered food when your friend speak up.

"y/n, what's the point of hiding now when you guys already broke up?" she patheticly looked at you who's trying to hide from a menu list.

putting the menu list down on the table, you crossed your arms, "i am not hiding from him. i simply don't want to involve myself with anything that has to do with him."

"yeah, like seeing him in a shopping mall involves you with him." she said with full sarcasm. "you have no idea how pathetic that sounded."

not listening to anything she said, you started eating your pasta. almost choking when you saw a familliar figure walk in the restaurant.

trying your best to lean down and not get noticed you hear your friend call, "jake!" you kick her feet under the table as you see jake wave back and walks closer.

"what the fuck did you just do?" you whispered at her, she just smiles like an idiot as jake reach your table.

"hello, jia." he greeted your friend, "hi, y'n."

flashing a fake smile, you said "hi." satisfied with how annoyed you are, jia announced "you guys can join us! we got two extra seats here."

"we don't want to intrude-" you cut him off, "yes, there are a lot of vacant tables. they sure can find their own, right?"

serving a glass of wine, a waiter says "oh, we're fully booked, ma'am. so if you want to eat here, you have to wait for another hour or so." he said pouring some on your glass. "if you'll excuse me."

"it would be rude if we don't invite you right? so join!" your friend cheered as the girl jake's with sit next to you.

taking a sip of your wine whenever jake helps the girl cut her steak, you became unaware of how drunk you are. "so, when did you meet jake?" you asked the girl.

to be frank, she was quiet the whole time. just sitting there, not saying a thing but a "thanks." whenever jake helps her with anything.

"you can't answer that? well can you tell me if you are able to use your hands to their purpose? like cutting off a steak or puring your own glass of wine?"

"y/n-" your friend tried to stop you. but you didn't listen. you just continued to blabber nonsense until jake grabbed your wrist to the bathroom.

shaking your hand off his grip you screamed at him asking, "why did you bring me here?!"

"y/n why are you being so rude?" he calmly asked you.

you sarcastically laughed, "i'm being rude? who's more rude when you're out here eating at the same table as your ex-girlfriend and your current girlfriend?"

"current girlfriend- y/n that's my cousin!" he tried to calm himself by breathing slowly, pushing the side of his mouth using his tounge "do you really think i could replace you that fast?"

the sudden question made you feel like someone cut off your tounge. because you mostly have answer for everything but this. his question caught you off guard.

"when you broke up with me, i never asked why. i knew you were tired and i don't want to exhaust you more." you hear his voice shake as he speak. "i was also tired and we both needed a break."

you looked straight at his eyes that are sparkling from moist done by the tears that he have been trying so hard to hold back, "but as time pass by, i felt more and more empty. there is a big mark of you in my heart that ever since you left, no one has ever filled."

"nobody could ever fit in, but you." cupping your face he also wipe your tears away. "i never felt that way before. it's like, for the first time, i had something to lose."

"jake, i-" it was as if you forgot how to compose a word. you never knew he felt the same way you did when you broke up with him.

maybe sunghoon was more of your cousin than he is jake's friend. because if jake only knew how many times you told sunghoon that you miss him, he would've came back faster than this.

he smiled pulling you into a hug, "it's fine if you don't feel the same way anymore. i understand that. but i just want you to know that i am not the douchebag you think i am."

pulling away from the hug, you see his eyes were bloodshot "sorry, the last thing i want to do is make you cry-" you pulled him into a kiss not letting another word out of his mouth.

running out of breath, you seperated his lips from yours. you widely smiled at him, "it’s been you all along."

kissing outside a three star restaurant's restroom isn't as ideal as other comeback stories, but you wouldn't ask for anything else. as long as you have jake in your arms, your heart is content.

[mrsmaybank]

Crushing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.”

A/N: I love baby genius, season one Reid so much. I wanted to give him a soulmate. Soulmate is you: shy and also a baby genius. Okay, thanks for reading. This was honestly just for me. 

CW: Implied Smut, Mild Cursing, shitty writing 

“Who...Who is that?” Dr. Spencer Reid, debatably the wordiest boy Derek Morgan had ever met, was suddenly at a loss for words. Maybe it was your perfectly sculpted face, your shoes, the copy of The Kreutzer Sonata held to your chest, your chest, or maybe a mix of it all.  Whatever it was, at sight of you walking through the office doors, he was stripped of his ability to speak. 

“That’s JJ’s new intern.” Morgan said plainly, before noticing the completely enamored look on his friend’s face. “What, pretty boy?” Reid couldn’t even be bothered to reply. He was too busy studying every detail of your frame. 

“You think she’s cute or something kid?” Morgan playfully jabbed his shoulder, Spencer’s face instantly flushing an embarrassing shade of red. 

“What?!” He shrieked, “I-no! That’s not..No!” That’s a lie. 

“I just..I didn’t know JJ was getting an intern.” That though, was true. 

“She’s supposed to be pretty impressive. Let’s go meet her.” he started in the direction of the coffee stand, where you and JJ had begun chatting. Before Spencer could protest out of his shyness, he was being dragged along. 

“Morgan,” JJ smiled, “Spence,” she nodded in his direction, “This is Y/N Y/L/N. My godsent savior.” JJ beamed in your direction.

You smiled more sheepishly then you would’ve liked, muttering a “Hopefully.” that got a laugh from Morgan and a “Oh, please.” from JJ, but nothing from the man in the glasses. You did your best not to read into it. 

“Derek Morgan.” the muscular agent extended his hand to shake yours, an offer you timidly but happily accepted. 

The taller, lankier, younger, incredibly cute man next to him stuffed one of his hands in his pocket and shifted uncomfortably with a small wave, “I’m uh, Doctor Spencer Reid, oh! Uh, you don’t have to, uh call me Doctor. No..” He shook his head, “Just Spencer is fine.” He looked at you with wide eyes that sent butterflies berserk in your stomach and swiped his tongue in between his lips that only made them go crazier. JJ had told you all about the team. About the magnificently brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, his 3 PhDs and eidetic memory, and all the other quirks you’d have to know in order to work with him, but had failed to mention how utterly hot he was. You felt a crush hijacking your system already. Dear god. 

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Your hands gripped your book tighter as you shifted onto your tiptoes, “I’ve heard really exceptional things.” 

The conversation was set to continue, but Morgan and JJ were summoned by Hotch to the closed doors of his office. Leaving the resident genius and you starting at each other with tight lip smiles. 

Spencer started first, “The Kreutzer Sonata is great.” He excitedly continued, “It uh, it actually used to be a pretty bold book to carry around. After the work had been forbidden in Russia by censors, there was actually a mimeographed version that was widely circulated. Then in 1890, the United States Post Office Department prohibited the mailing of newspapers containing serialized installments of it too. Theodore Roosevelt even called Tolstoy a-” 

His enthusiasm was beyond endearing. You finished for him with a soft smile, "Sexual moral pervert.”

Spencer’s lips upturned in a smile. It was rare somebody in the office could finish his sentences. And he couldn’t help but replay the crass words being said in your soft voice. He felt a crush hijacking his system already. Dear god.  

“Most people don’t recognize it in the original Russian.”  Spencer heard you say. 

“Most people probably wouldn’t recognize it in English.” he retorted.

You laughed, “Yeah, you’re right.” 

Spencer wasn’t even kidding. “I’m not joking.” He shook his head. “It’s unfortunate how many people aren’t even vaguely familiar with Tolstoy.” 

“It is.” you agreed. “You went to Caltech, correct?” 

He smiled, “Yes.” 

“I almost did too. Decided last minute on Columbia.” 

“You went to Columbia?” he asked. 

“I just graduated.” 

“How old are you?” he asked before quickly correcting himself,  “I’m sorry! That was forward! I am not...I’m not trying to undermine your studies with your age, I promise. I’m just curious.” 

“No! It’s okay!” You got out fast. “I’m 19. I graduated high school a little bit early.” 

“Me too.” He smiled. “12, actually.” 

Your eyes went wide, “12?” 

“Yes, um, in a Las Vegas public high school.” He winced, but the self-deprecation somehow came out charming, “I uh,” His eyes narrowed, “didn’t go to a lot of parties.” 

That made you wholeheartedly laugh. “Me neither! I graduated at 15, which you know is the age everybody else starts. It created a really weird dynamic because the older kids in my grade didn’t like me, but the underclassmen my age really didn’t like me.” 

Instead of the laugh you were expecting, Spencer just gave you a pensive stare. 

“Um..I can’t see why. I think you’re very likeable.” The compliment would’ve been strange exchanged by anybody other than Spencer to you.

  “Wait till you get to know me.” You said it through a smile but so softly you were afraid he might not be able to hear it, but he did. 

And that was confirmed when he flashed you the most incredible, toothy grin you’d ever seen. “I uh, I doubt there will be any change in opinion.” 

“Well, um, I’m sure- I think! You’re very likeable as well Dr. Reid.” you said. 

“That’s what you say now.” He retorted in the same coy tone you had earlier. 

You shook your head, “You’ll find I can be insufferably stubborn.” 

-----------------------------------

After two weeks, there was little Spencer could do to hide his massive crush affinity for you from the team. 

In the bullpen: 

You guys had locked eyes and were mouthing out exchanged of No’s and Yes’s from across the room. There was an ongoing half-serious dispute about whether or not Xanthippe slept with Plato. 

Morgan glided in his wheeled chair to whisper into Spencer’s ear. 

“Reid, stop giving JJ’s intern bedroom eyes. It fuckin’ weirds me out.” He said, shoving files into the cabinet below Reid’s desk. 

“I’m..I’m not.. I--what? Bedr--No!” Reid whisper-shouted back. 

On the jet: 

“Reid?” Gideon called Spencer, “Chess?” He motioned towards the board. 

“Yes, sure. Just give me a second. I’m almost done. I’m reading Infinite Jest. I don’t usually enjoy literature if it isn’t classic, even less so if it’s American. But..” Spencer smiled, “Y/N likes the author.”  He continued his fast-paced reading of the third-to-last chapter of the book. 

Morgan and Gideon exchanged glances. 

Even in front of you: 

You opened a sugar packet and began stirring. 

“De Revolutionibus Orbium Coelestium is still some of the best work on  heliocentric theory out there, I think. Copernicus knew what he was talking about!” You spun on your heels to see Reid’s face contorted in disagreement. You giggled, “Don’t give me that face! I’m right!” 

He took a sip of his coffee as to keep himself quiet. “Listen, cosmological theory is for…” 

But the pair of you were interrupted, it was Elle, standing behind you and in front of Spencer. 

“New skirt?” Elle asked as you turned, back now facing Reid.  She was pouring herself a cup of coffee too.

“Yes!” You excitedly nodded. “You like it?” 

Elle looked up and down, but not at you. The judgmental eyes were for the man behind you. She pursed her lips, “Not just me.” 

The only face redder than yours was Reid’s.

-----------------------------------

Nights spent in a bar after a case that had dragged on far too long was nothing new, but the energy tonight was especially light. Gideon had refused, but everybody else was just relaxed, even Hotch, and the team just got happier at each other's happiness. It was great, really. As Hotch and Morgan sipped on whiskey, JJ and Penelope had already downed four sugary, colorful cocktails and were in a whispered fit of giggles. Elle and Spencer settled on a tamer option of an IPA Spencer couldn’t name. 

“SPENCER!” Penelope excitedly shouted, “Y/N is literally you! You’re both adorable! You’re both geniuses! You’re both young!” She drew on her rant, “And if you have a crush on her you should just tell her!” JJ’s eyes widened in embarrassment as she tried to cover Penelope’s mouth. 

Morgan and Elle erupted in soft laughter while Hotch cracked an uncharacteristically amused smile. 

“Spence, I swear, I didn’t say that! I just...I may have mentioned how happy you get every time she’s around! And how you guys can talk for literally hours!” JJ defended, her words slurring in silly drunkenness. 

Spencer rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time they teased him about you, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time either. 

“I don’t have a crush on her! We just….we like the same things! It gives us a lot to talk about.” 

“Yeah?” Morgan said through a laugh, “And what is it that boy and girl wonder talk about so much?” 

“Well, uh.. a lot of things. But I find she gets the most excited when we are discussing the theories of postmodernism, in that apparent realities are actually just social constructs and veritable realities are subject to change, and uh... we like to talk about linguistics….political philosophy….history... mathematic theory...and uh, oh! Doctor Who.” 

Spencer was blushing and spoke about you like a teenage girl did their boyband crush, and the team noticed. They didn’t even need to say it out loud. Spencer gathered from the way they looked back at him. 

“I heard she lent you a book too, Reid.” Hotch said before taking a sip from his glass. 

“Yes! She did!” He smiled, “It was her copy of Pale Fire. She has an impressive collection of 19th century Russian literature. All in its original dialect! Some of it’s even annotated, which usually would annoy me but since it’s her thoughts and notes I sort of find it endearing.” 

“Dr. Reid is endeared!” Greenaway shrieked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, pushing his glasses up a little higher on his nose, “I find her incredibly endearing.” 

“Y’all that sounded like a dorky love confession.” Morgan said as the team erupted in laughter and Reid’s head fell in a smile. There was no point in denying it anymore: He really, really liked you.

--------------------------------------

Within two months, you and Spencer had finally put your shyness aside, and spent a very lovely evening at watching an orchestra at the Smithsonian Music,  and sharing noodles at your favorite Thai restaurant. And then you guys spent some time on your couch. And then in your bed. And then in the shower. And then in the kitchen. You were both very sexually frustrated. 

For the following two months, as soon as you both stepped out of the office, it was very, very hard to keep your hands off each other. Could either of you help it though? Teenage geniuses don’t experience parties, or football games, or clumsy sex. The time was perfect to make up for it. 

And you guys did. The sex part at least. “Football involves a lot of dirt. And germs. And sweat.”

“Oh my god!” you shrieked. His hands were in a place they found themselves more and more often: Your pants. 

“Does it feel good?” he asked, continuing his pattern of small circles on that particular bundle of nerves. 

“It feels great.” You nodded. 

“I uh, I’ve been researching the female anatomy.” 

You closed your eyes and nodded your head, but trying to focus on your boyfriends newfound intellect. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it?” 

He watched your undoing with boyish adoration and curiosity before swallowing, “Very.” 

“Oh fuck!” Your legs began to shake, “Spencee...I’m gonn--” 

--------------------------------------------

You and Spencer just understood each other. 

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 3}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2807

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Poseidon

– God of the seas, earthquakes, horses and tidal waves

Aelin had moved past hurt.

Now, she was just pissed.

It was nearly ten o'clock after her second day of classes and she sat cross legged on the couch with Lysandra in her apartment.

Her roommate had been a worthy rant partner thus far. She’d kicked Aedion out and supplied Aelin with an endless supply of alcohol.

“It’s official. I’m sitting in your Thursday class.”

Aelin groaned, taking a long drink from her wine glass. “Don't remind me that I have to go back there, please. The thought of sitting through an entire semester with him as my teacher… Oh, gods.”

Lysandra refilled Aelin’s glass.

“You’ve done the hookup thing before,” Lysandra said, shrugging as she took a drink from her own glass. “Just pretend this is one of those situations and he meant absolutely nothing.”

“That’s impossible, for two reasons,” Aelin said, adjusting the pillow she had squished between her legs. She held up a finger. “One, it’s not like the regular hookup situation where I might see him across campus or in a bar and we can pretend we don’t know each other. This is my professor we’re talking about.” She took a very large drink of her wine and held up another finger. “Secondly, it was supposed to be a hookup, but then he turned out to be perfect and I just…” She let her head fall back against the cushions. “Do you think I just want him because I can’t have him?”

“Maybe,” Lysandra admitted, but she hadn’t ever been in a situation like this. She and Aedion had been inseparable since high school. “What does your gut say?”

“I don’t know, they’re still in knots from where he rearranged them with his huge dick,” Aelin replied, draining her wine glass.

Lysandra nearly sprayed her wine across the couch, but she knew Aelin was well and truly drunk if she was talking like that.

“So, he still means something to you, then?” Lysandra asked. “Even after you found out he’s your professor, and also a little bit of a dick, apparently.”

Aelin shot her a look. “No, I’m drunk off my ass because he means nothing to me. Have you not been listening?”

Lysandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’ve been listening. But, after two hours things just start to blur together and not make sense.”

Aelin hit her roommate with her pillow.

Lysandra only laughed. “Maybe sit and think on it for a few days, yeah? Maybe it’s new and exciting and he’s hot as hell, but all that will fade if it meant nothing.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “And if it doesn’t fade? If it actually meant something?”

“If it actually meant something, then he won’t be forgetting about you any time soon, either,” Lysandra said, sipping from her glass.

She was still on glass #1.

Aelin had lost count of how many glasses she had drained so far.

“Doesn’t make it any easier now,” Aelin said, that hurt creeping its way back in. “You should’ve seen him, Lys. This morning, at his apartment, it was just…perfect. Then when he saw me in class, he was a completely different person.”

“Have you tried to see this from his perspective, Ace?” Lysandra asked, standing and heading into the kitchen. She handed Aelin a cold water bottle when she returned, falling back onto the couch next to her.

“Of course,” she snapped, opening the lid. “And I get it, it’s a big deal, but it’s not like I’m underage. I’m twenty-one, not sixteen. It’s not like he broke the law.”

“No, but I’m sure there’s a bylaw somewhere in his contract that says Don’t fuck your students,” Lysandra drawled, tucking her legs between her.

Aelin mumbled, “I bet it doesn’t say exactly that.”

“No, I’m sure it’s more along the line of inappropriate misconduct, but if we’re getting specific, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find an example,” she replied, leveling Aelin with a stare.

“Calm your pre-law ass down, I get it,” Aelin sighed, drinking from the water bottle. “His aunt is the president of the university. I wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble with her.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “He probably just got scared. I hear he’s a new professor. This must be his first year here. Hell, if he’s as young as you say, this must be his first year anywhere.”

Luck. He’d gotten the job purely out of luck, out of his connections to the university, and here Aelin was, jeopardizing his career as soon as it began.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She asked, quietly, before draining her glass.

“You have the right to be hurt,” Lysandra said. “I’m not saying you don’t have that right, because I’d be hurt, too. But, I definitely think that this is complicated as hell.”

Aelin nodded, and took a drink of water before pouring the last of the wine into her glass. “We’re going to need another bottle of this, Lys.”

“I would just take you to the bar,” Lysandra said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk you fucking any of the other faculty.”

Aelin’s eyes snapped to hers.

Lysandra sucked in her lips to stop her grin. “Too soon?”

Aelin nudged her best friend, unable to stop her sputtering laughter. “Bitch.”

Lysandra caught her before she leaned back across the couch and held onto her shoulders, hugging her tightly. “I know this sucks, Ace, and I know you liked him. But just give it time. Either you’ll move on, which I can always help with, or something will happen. It’s not like you won’t be seeing him every other day.”

She sighed, resting her head on Lysandra's shoulder. “I know… I know.”

Lysandra reached for the remote, turning the television on. “What would make you feel better? Sappy love story, trashy reality tv, or a horror flick?”

“Trashy tv,” she decided, if for no other reason than it would be easy for her to block out while she still wallowed in her own misery.

Lysandra did as she was told, refilling Aelin’s glass again, and she thanked her best friend.

All the while, Aelin wondered how pissed Rowan was, or if he was feeling the same way she was.

*

A knock on Rowan’s door around nine-thirty had him closing his laptop and throwing it open. He groaned when he found Lorcan on the other side, walking back inside and leaving his best friend to let himself in.

“Alright, fill me in on Little Miss Perfect you took out last night. She was all you could talk about this morning, and then boom.” He sat down on the couch next to Rowan, noticing the half empty bottle of bourbon and looked at him. “Radio silence for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be going home to your girlfriend?”

“She’s out with Manon,” Lorcan said, blowing off the question. “I’m bored, so talk.”

Rowan sighed, pushing himself up to go into his kitchen. He came back a moment later, two glasses in hand. He supposed he couldn’t continue to drink out of the bottle with company.

After handing Lorcan a half-filled glass, Rowan said, “It’s just not going to work.”

“You decided that quickly,” Lorcan muttered, his eyes remaining locked on Rowan. “Did you google her after she left? Find something cringeworthy?”

Rowan sipped from his glass. “She’s just not who I thought she was, that’s all.”

Lorcan scoffed. “You’re being vague.”

Rowan shrugged. That seemed to be the only answer he was going to give him.

“So what?” Lorcan asked, crossing an ankle over his knee and swirling the contents of his glass. “She lied and you caught her?”

“No, she didn’t lie,” Rowan said, dragging a hand down his face. “But it can’t happen. So it won’t.”

Lorcan raised one dark eyebrow. “First you say won’t, now you say can’t.”

Rowan emptied his glass. “What about it?”

“Well, which one is it?” He asked, leaning back. “Those two have very different meanings.”

“It can’t and it won’t,” he replied, giving Lorcan a pointed look.

Lorcan snorted, but took a drink from his own glass. “You act like she’s one of your students.”

Rowan didn’t say a word. He only stared at his closed laptop.

It took Lorcan a few seconds to understand Rowan’s silence. And a few more before he figured out how to make his mouth work.

And when he did, he started laughing.

“Are you kidding me, Whitethorn?” He asked, clutching his stomach. “You fucked your student?”

“Fuck off,” Rowan muttered, refilling his glass.

Lorcan was hardly able to breathe. “It was your first day at your first big boy job, and you already found yourself in bed-.” His words faded away as his laughter consumed him.

“It’s not like she’s some freshman,” Rowan snapped. “She’s about to graduate. Twenty-one. I just…” Rowan groaned as his face fell into his hands. “Someone had recommended the bar to me and told me the faculty hung out there a lot. I just assumed she was one of them, since she was the one to suggest the place.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Lorcan continued, still laughing. “But, people in their twenties don’t often land jobs at renowned universities. You’re the exception.”

Rowan continued to drink.

“Alright, alright,” Lorcan continued, taking a deep breath. “You’re five years older than her, so what? I’m four years older than Elide. Once you both hit twenty, age is just a number.”

Rowan shot him a look. “She’s a student, Lor. Maeve will fire me in a heartbeat over any sort of misconduct. This…” He just shook his head. “This position is a once in a lifetime opportunity that I probably shouldn’t even have. I can’t ruin it.”

Lorcan knew full well how harsh Rowan’s aunt could be. Before she’d become president of a prestigious university, she’d been the dean at the boarding school he and Rowan had spent their adolescence at. “So either move on or be careful and don’t let her find out.”

Rowan blinked at his friend. He was being so casual about this, when Rowan was freaking out both inside and out, which had required a two hour gym session earlier to calm his nerves.

Lorcan sighed and set his glass down. “Look, I really don’t see the issue here. She isn’t using you to pass the class, right?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Rowan, but he remembered the look of pure and utter shock on her face when they’d seen each other in the classroom. “No, it’s a basic gen ed. Plus I really don’t think she’d ever do that.”

Lorcan nodded. “Right. There are much tougher classes she could try and sleep her way through.” At Rowan’s simmering look at his choice of words, Lorcan held up his hands in placation. “I’m just saying, make sure she’s actually doing her homework and studying for her and don’t let Maeve find out.”

Rowan hesitated, but when his lips opened, nothing came out.

He liked Aelin. He really, really liked Aelin. And, yeah, it had been much more than a hookup. When he’d woken up that morning next to her in bed, he felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Then again, the way he’d snapped at her that morning, knowing that she had only said what she had out of anger - even if she had been correct - would be difficult to come back from.

Rowan had completely shattered her. He saw it in her eyes before she left.

“I don’t know,” Rowan said, at last.

Lorcan groaned before pounding back his drink and pouring himself another. “You’re always going to be the one to stand in the way of your own happiness, Whitethorn.”

He refrained from saying anything. Lorcan had always been the one to hop from girl to girl, while he had always been the one in a committed relationship. After his last relationship had…ended, he hadn’t wanted anyone for a while.

Aelin was the first spark he’d felt since.

“You’re into her,” Lorcan said, staring up at the ceiling to avoid any sort of eye contact while he said something nice. “I can tell. And, if you don’t go for it, you’re going to regret it.”

Rowan knew he was right.

Of course, he was right.

And yet, this job was the first job he had been granted in his field since graduating three years prior with his degree in mythology. Yeah, he may have gotten it because of Maeve, but that didn’t make it any less important to him.

He had the chance to get students excited about something he loved, something he was passionate about.

“Go home to your woman or shut up and turn on the TV,” Rowan muttered, downing the contents in his glass.

Lorcan only snorted and grabbed the remote, fulfilling Rowan’s wishes.

*

Aelin awoke the next morning with a slight headache and the same dull ache in her chest.

Knowing she needed to move, workout the bad vibes, she tossed up her hair and put on her workout wear before jogging to the gym.

She was still regretting signing up for even one eight am classes, and was thankful her Friday’s were free. She was looking forward to some much needed sleep, which was a lost cause right now.

When she was packing her gym bag, she decided to go straight to class after a quick shower, so she tossed it into a locker after she arrived, locked it up, and put her ear buds in.

The gym was still pretty empty this early, since it wasn’t even eight yet, and most people were too focused on their own workouts to pay attention to those surrounding them. Aelin was grateful for the distraction the gym would provide, and for the physical outlet, as well.

She was just finishing up a mile run on the treadmills when she felt eyes on her. She could tell she was being watched, but didn’t want to look around. Whether it was someone ogling her from across the room or someone from one of her classes, she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk and made her way over to the machines, starting on her legs first. She cranked her music up and kept an eye on the time on her watch.

When there was about forty-five minutes before her first class, she put the free weights she’d been using back in their home and turned to head to the locker room for a much needed shower.

And found who had been watching her during her workout.

Green eyes bored into her own and Aelin felt a blush rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the amount of energy she’d exerted this early in the morning.

Ignoring the voice inside of her head, Aelin stopped in front of Rowan, and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. His t-shirt clung to him, and it was a fact that Aelin could not ignore.

“I was just going to get ready for class,” she said. “Excuse me.”

She swept past him, but his voice pulled her up short. “Aelin.”

She stilled, and slowly turned around to meet his gaze.

“About yesterday,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. Aelin found the gesture somewhat charming, although she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t handle the situation right. It all took me by surprise and I reacted poorly. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” she said, looking away from him, down at her feet. “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m…not proud of it.”

He shook his head. “Let’s just…pretend all of it didn’t happen, yeah?”

She swallowed roughly. “All of it?”

Rowan sighed. “Just because we apologized doesn’t change anything, Aelin. You’re still my student.”

She nodded, not looking at him. “Right. No. I get it. I have to get ready for class.”

Making to slip around him, she got two steps away before his hand wrapped around her wrist. “Aelin, I’m… I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t— I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Daring to take a chance by looking back at him, it nearly destroyed what was left of her when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “But wishing doesn’t change anything, does it?” Aelin pulled her wrist free. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Rowan said nothing, but she saw that her shot landed in his eyes.

She shook it off, though, hurrying away, toward the showers.

Aelin knew one thing was for certain: no matter how much she cared for Rowan Whitethorn, there would never be anything between them.

Even if she wanted there to be.

[triptuckers]

Looking at the wrong one - Jesper Fahey

Request: yes! “Firstly, I just want to say I really love your writing! I’ve had this idea for a while and wanting to find someone to write it because I love it so much. So basically reader has feelings for Kaz but he’s obviously in love with Inej so she confides in Jesper who comforts her and she eventually realizes that he’s been the one for her the whole time. I hope you can write it but if you can’t that’s totally fine too!!” Pairing:  Jesper Fahey x reader Summary:  Jesper is the first person you go to when you need advice about something - or rather, someone. It takes you a while to realise you’ve been sneaking glances at the wrong person. Warnings: none Word count:  2.7K A/N: I loved this request sm!! been busy busy busy lately so sorry if your request is taking a while for me to write, finish and post! enjoy reading :)

You glance over at Kaz while he’s explaining the blueprints laid out in front of everyone. You’re trying to pay attention to what he’s saying, you really are, but it’s hard. It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying when Kaz is the one who’s talking. 

There’s no denying it, Kaz looks good. For weeks you tried to push your feelings away, but soon what started as a little crush developed into something more. And now you can barely keep your eyes off of him. 

There’s just something about his mysterious aura. The dark hair, sharp jaw, how he never seems to smile - though you did catch him smile once when he thought no one was looking. There’s so much you don’t know about him, and you’re dying to find out. 

Apparently, you’ve been staring at Kaz for a little too long, because you feel someone nudging your shoulder, and turn to face them.

‘You know.’ mutters Jesper to you from the corner of his mouth. ‘If you want to talk about it, or just need to rant and have someone listen to you, I’m always here. I’ve heard I’m excellent company.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ you say. ‘Do you think we can pull this job of?’ 

You hoped Jesper wouldn’t ask about Kaz again, and he senses your need to change the subject.

‘We better.’ he says. ‘We can score big with this one.’

Jesper starts talking about what he’s going to do once the job is done, but your eyes are already shifting back to Kaz. You can’t help but to feel a knot in your chest as you see him looking at Inej.

While you’re always looking at Kaz, you catch him looking at Inej. 

Inej is one of your closest friends, and you would die for her. Hell, you almost did die for her a couple of months ago. Still, you couldn’t help but to feel jealous of her. Of the way Kaz looked at her.

Whenever Kaz was looking at Inej and you caught him, it didn’t take long for you to fall down a rabbit hole of insecure and jealous thoughts.

You’d think of everything Inej can do that you cannot do. She has a gifts for knives, you know your way around guns, not knives. When she’s sneaking around, she almost becomes one with the shadows, you couldn’t soundlessly sneak up to someone even if you tried. 

You always concluded Inej was better than you on more than one aspect. You figured she would be a better match for Kaz than you could ever be. You were ashamed of being so jealous of your friend when all Kaz did was look at her. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get rid of the jealousy. 

After Kaz has rolled up the blueprints and everyone went over the plan one last time, you say your goodnights and all head back to your own rooms. You’re barely aware of your movements as your legs carry you to your room. When you move to open the door to your room, a familiar whistle makes you look up.

‘The offer for some company still stands.’ says Jesper, and he winks at you before entering his own room, next to yours in the hallway.

While Jesper didn’t have Kaz’ gift for coming up with plans, he wasn’t stupid. He had caught you looking at Kaz a couple of times, then decided to speak up. As soon as the opportunity presented himself, he’d taken you apart from the others and confronted you about your staring. 

You were shocked, asking him how he could have possible figured it out. Jesper merely raised his eyebrows and told you you’re always looking at Kaz. You hadn’t realised you looked at Kaz so many times. Ever since, Jesper has offered a listening ear. And though you appreciated it, you weren’t ready to talk about your feelings just yet. 

As you’re taking your boots off, your mind wanders to Kaz again. And the way he looked at Inej. He didn’t show his feelings that often, but you couldn’t help but notice how soft his eyes were when he looked at Inej. It drove you crazy, and you didn’t like that it did. You felt like you were going to explode if you kept pushing these feelings down any longer. Maybe having someone listen to you didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

Not bothering to put your boots back on, you get up and leave your room. You take a few steps to get in front of Jesper’s door. Though it’s not that late and he’s probably still awake, you hesitate. What if he just wanted to be a good friend, but wasn’t actually interested in your thoughts on Kaz?

You sigh and shake your head, clearing your mind. You then raise your hand and knock on the door. After a few seconds it opens, revealing Jesper. He’s taken off his coat and boots, leaving him in just a shirt and a pair of trousers. He smiles when he sees you.

‘I see you do want my company?’ he says. ‘Only if you don’t mind.’ you say. ‘Of course not.’ he says, stepping aside so you can enter his room.

You take a seat in the only chair in the room as Jesper closes the door. He walks over to his bed and sits down as you tuck your feet under your legs, getting comfortable.

‘So.’ says Jesper. ‘Am I problem solving or listening?’

You frown at his words. ‘What does that mean?’ you ask him.

‘Well, it’s the easiest way to prevent a fight.’ explains Jesper. ‘If I’m problem solving, I’ll give you advice and come up with solutions. If I’m listening, I’m just going to shut up and, well, listen. So, am I problem solving or listening?’

‘Listening, I guess.’ you say.

‘Alright.’ says Jesper, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs in front of him. He gestures with his hand to you. ‘Let it all out then, love.’

You don’t know where to begin. Jesper is patient as you’re searching for the words. Without realising, you start to play with your fingers, a habit of yours which you do when you’re thinking or anxious.

‘It starts... Well, when I became a member of the Dregs, I guess. I was young, but Kaz was around my age. We became close friends. That is, as far as being close friends with Kaz goes. I trusted him, he trusted me. We spent months working our way up to the top and along the way you tagged along, and Inej, Nina, Matthias and Wylan. I care about all of you, but there’s just something  different about Kaz.’ you tell him.

Jesper looks at you but doesn’t say anything. He’s just listening, exactly like he said he would.

‘It started off as an innocent crush. Saints, I sound like some school girl. Anyway, somewhere along the way that little crush developed into something more. And now I can’t stop looking at him or thinking about him. And now that I’ve said this out loud, I realise you are the first person I’ve talked to about this.’ 

You’re silent for a while as you look at Jesper. You were afraid he’d laugh at you, but he’s just sitting on his bed, looking at you. 

‘I can tell there’s still something else on your mind.’ he simply says. You let out a sigh and nod, and start talking again.

‘He’s always looking at Inej. Whenever I look at him, he’s looking at Inej. I know I shouldn’t feel the way I do, but I cannot pretend it doesn't make me a little jealous. The first time I saw him looking at Inej, I wished he looked at me like that. I know this sounds stupid, but I really can’t help it. And once I catch him looking at her, I start to think about how I’m not worth it.’ you say.

Now Jesper frowns. ‘But you’re worth it.’ he says. You chuckle softly and shake your head.

‘She’s everything I’m not. She’s pretty, she’s very skilled with her knives, she can sneak up to anyone without being seen or heard. She knows the secrets of everyone in the Barrel. She could take down the Merchant council all on her own if she wanted to. I can’t do that.’ you say. 

‘I know I said I was listening, but can I just offer you one piece of advice?’ asks Jesper. You nod. ‘You say you notice the way Kaz looks at Inej, I have noticed that as well. He looks at her the way you look at him. Don’t you think you should try to admit to yourself that he’s only going to be looking at her, and not you?’

‘Deep down I know that.’ you say softly. ‘But I can’t fully wrap my head around that. Not just yet, at least.’

‘Alright.’ says Jesper. ‘Maybe not now, but if you give it time, maybe it’ll hurt less.’

You look at him and smile as you get up. ‘Thank you Jesper.’ you say. ‘This is nice. Having someone listen to you.’

Jesper gets up as well as you walk toward the door. ‘The door’s always open to you.’ says Jesper as he opens the door for you. ‘You can always swing by.’

‘Thanks.’ you say as you step out onto the hallway. ‘Goodnight, Jes.’  ‘Night, Y/N.’ he says as you walk the few steps to the door of your room.

After that conversation, your nightly visits to Jesper’s room increase. Sometimes he’s problem solving, sometimes he’s listening, and sometimes you just sit in silence when all you want is some company.

There’s even one night in which you actually fell asleep when you were sitting on his bed, and when you woke up the next morning, you found Jesper sleeping on the floor while using his coat as a blanket. Your heart melted a little, but you decided not to speak up as you snuck out of his room.

Weeks pass, and slowly your visits turn from seeking advice about Kaz to enjoying a conversation with Jesper. He makes you laugh as he tells you stories about how he used to drive his parents crazy doing god knows what at their farm. In return, you tell him about the life you lived before you came to Ketterdam.

Another couple of visits later, and you’ve almost completely forgotten that you originally started visiting Jesper to talk about Kaz. You notice you’ve stopped sneaking glances at Kaz. You’re not even jealous when you catch him looking at Inej again. 

Instead, your attention is on Jesper. More than once, he caught your eye and sent a wink you way, making you smile and turn away.

Your nightly visits increase even more, and you can be found in Jesper’s room almost every night, laughing at his jokes.  

After a particularly long night that involved keeping tabs on the security of one of the banks for hours, you find yourself in front of Jesper’s room again. Kaz had sent you out on the job, and you had hoped Jesper would be in his room when you got back.

But after knocking three times, he still hasn’t opened the door. You whistle a familiar tune, hoping he’d answer the door. When he doesn’t, you kick over a tiny tin can that sits on the floor next to the door.

‘So predictable.’ you murmur as you bend down to pick up the key that was underneath it. Knowing Jesper probably wouldn’t mind, you let yourself in and walk over to the only chair in the room.

You let yourself settle in and reach out to take the deck of cards Jesper always keeps on his nightstand. 

You’re fooling around with the cards, if only to keep yourself busy as you wait for Jesper. You’re shuffling the cards, moving them smoothly in your hands.

‘Can you teach me that?’ 

At the sudden voice, you drop half of the cards. You hadn’t seen or heard him coming. Jesper chuckles as he walks over and stands behind you, looking out over the city beneath you.

‘This is my favourite view.’ he says, looking out the window.

‘Mine too.’ you say, while you look at the reflection of his face in the window. You then fully realise you haven’t talked about Kaz in weeks, that you just come to Jesper’s room for a conversation and some company, and you remember the night he slept on the floor.

‘Jes?’ you ask him. ‘Yea love?’ he says. ‘The other night when I was here-’ ‘Care to specify which night?’ 

‘I fell asleep, and when I woke up you were sleeping on the floor.’ ‘Oh, that night.’ he says. ‘Well, would you rather I had pushed you off the bed?’ ‘No.’ you laugh.

Jesper laughs too and you look at each other in silence afterward. It’s a comfortable silence, and he’s the first one to speak up.

‘You haven’t talked about Kaz in a while.’ he says. ‘Finally realised his heart belongs to someone else?’

‘Yes, well, I realised that so does mine.’ you say. This makes Jesper frown. 

‘Already moving on?’ he says. ‘Thought your feelings for him were more serious.’

‘They were.’ you say. ‘But I've found someone who listens to me, who sees me, who makes me laugh.’ you cock your head to the side a little and look at him. ‘Nice to look at, as well.’

Jesper raises one eyebrow.

‘Who is this mystery person?’ he says. ‘And am I problem solving or listening?’ ‘Well I hope you’re gonna do something else.’ you say. Jesper frowns again, making you playfully roll your eyes.

‘Not the smartest tonight, are we?’ you say. ‘Let me repeat it: I've found someone who listens to me, sees me, and makes me laugh. and not bad to look at.’ 

He’s still frowning. ‘Another hint?’ he says. ‘This is why Kaz does the planning and has the brains.’ you say, laughing.‘Rude.’ says Jesper.

‘It’s a he, and he’s caring and sweet, sometimes struggles to sit still, loves a good gunfight, he’s an excellent shot.’ you say.

Jesper smirks at you and then fakes a look of confusion on his face. ‘Still not getting it.’ he says. ‘Tell me more about him.’

You laugh and get up, standing close to him. ‘He’s not just an excellent shot, he’s the best damn sharpshooter in Ketterdam. Saved my ass a couple times as well. Owns a pair of stunningly hand made revolvers. He’s Zemini, taller than me, and..’ your voice drifts off.

‘And?’ says Jesper, stepping closer to you. ‘And I've been wondering if he’s a good kisser.’ you say softly. 

‘Well, let’s find out, shall we?’ says Jesper and he cups your face with both of his hands and presses his lips against yours. They’re soft, and you can taste a hint of his last drink on them. He kisses you gently but passionate, and takes a  breath when he pulls away.

‘Hmm.’ you say, pretending to think. ‘Yea, pretty good.’

‘Pretty good?’ says Jesper. ‘I've heard I'm more than a pretty good kisser.’

‘Prove it then.’ you say.

Jesper smirks and pulls you in for a kiss once more. This one is different, it’s more demanding, and leaves you breathless as you struggle to keep your knees from buckling. 

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. ‘How about that?’ he says softly.

You smile and press a quick kiss to his lips. ‘You live up to your reputation, Fahey.’ you say. ‘You’re an excellent kisser.’

‘Just like I thought.’ says Jesper. ‘Do you want to stay here tonight?’

‘I would love to.’ you say.

You spend the rest of the night talking with Jesper until eventually, you feel yourself falling asleep. You feel how Jesper moves next to you, to take his spot on the floor again. You lay a hand on his arm to stop him, silently telling him it’s okay and that he doesn’t have to sleep on the floor.

Kaz wasn’t the right match for you, Inej is. But Jesper certainly is your match.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[taleasnewastime]

The Crown

Summary: One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin.

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Strangers to lovers; night out/pub crawl

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Heavy drinking, the drunkenness is starting to set in.

Authors Note: Five drinks in, I’d be interested to know if any of you have ever done pub golf before? I did it once in uni and I’ve got to say, it’s as stupid as it sounds.

Series Masterlist

Ok, you’re really feeling it now. Two pints, a martini, a gin and tonic, and now a shot. You started at 8 and it’s now approaching eleven. It isn’t normal to drink that amount of alcohol, especially so quickly.

“Ok, ok, so we have three pubs left before we reach the club,” Jin says.

“Please can we skip some of them,” Diana elongates the words, her tone begging.

“Nope,” Jin pops the p.

“What if everyone agrees?”

“Still no.”

“You can’t force us to go to these places. You can’t make us,” Diana points an accusing finger at Jin and if you hadn’t already gathered how drunk she is, that act alone would have let you know.

“You agreed to this. You didn’t have to come. If you’re not going to be any fun -”

“Listen, let’s just see how it goes,” you step in, hoping to appease the tension. “If some of us want to go straight to the club then fine, the rest of us will meet them there later.”

“But,” Jin’s lips form a pout. “That’s not the rules.”

“Rules are for losers,” Taehyung pipes up.

“Well you won’t win the prize then.”

“You said there wasn’t a prize.”

“That’s because it’s a surprise. And people like you won’t find out what it is.”

You look to Jimin, hoping he is on a similar enough level to you to help you out. But even though you can tell he’s sober enough to help, he looks like he’s enjoying the confrontation too much to interfere. You sigh, roll your eyes and look back to Jin.

“What do you mean people like me?” Taehyung carries on.

“Hey, look, we’ve all finished our drinks. Why don’t we move onto the next place,” you raise your voice over Jin’s retort, hoping the tactic of a change in subject will be enough to get them onto a different topic.

Jin looks down at his empty glass, you can almost see the clogs turning in his brain. You think you’ve done it, think he might be calculating time and distance and whatever other factors he thought of when coming up with the thirty minutes at each pub rule. But then he opens his mouth.

“Anyone want another shot?”

A small, very drunk, part of you kind of wants to say yes, but a larger, more sensible and sober part of you knows that’s an idiotic idea.

“Why don’t we get one in the next place?”

“Great idea,” Jin pats you on the back a little too hard before standing up. “I know I invited you for a reason.”

“It wasn’t because I’m fun and for my banter then?”

He looks down at you, his face scrunching up at the mere thought. “God no.”

“Rude,” you say with a laugh and stand up.

It’s harder than you’d have thought to get everyone out the pub, Jin seems less fussed about the timing of everything than he was at the start of the night. You’re not really surprised given the amount he’s swaying from side to side, but he’s such a stickler for rules you’d have thought that even in this state he’d be ranting and raving about how behind you are.

You’re the last one out of the pub, hanging around to check no one has forgotten anything, but also just being slow in your drunk state. By the time you’re on the road they’re all a good few meters in front of you. You slowly trail after them, kind of enjoying the quiet rest bite away from them, enjoying the fresh air, it helping you think a bit clearer.

“Y/N,” Jin’s voice screeches and when you look at him, he’s not even looking back at you, just shouting into the night. “You need to hurry up. We only have twenty minutes to get to the pub, buy drinks and then down them.”

You laugh to yourself. Ok, so maybe he wasn’t off the whole rules and regulations then. He’s probably a lot more with it than he’s implying.

“So it’s Y/N, is it?”

You turn wide eyed to the body that’s silently slipped to your side. The same black shirt tucked into those irritatingly tight trousers. Jungkook. His aftershave washes over you as you look at him, as if he’s a prepubescent boy who’s sprayed too much. The only difference, this makes your stomach turn in a good way, not because of sickness.

“Are you following me?” You grind out the words.

“A happy coincidence,” Jungkook flashes his teeth at you and your heart does that weird flip floppy thing again.

You look behind you, more in an effort to not look at him, but sure enough, there are his friends trailing behind. While Jungkook is still firmly on his feet, his friends don’t look much better than your friends. The stag is swaying dangerously from side to side, one of his friends trailing behind laughing unhelpfully, while the others are all leaning on each other shoulders.

“Are your friends ok?”

He doesn’t even glance back at them, just keeps walking, eyes set straight.

“They’ll be fine,” he replies. “So, where are we heading?”

You almost stop dead in your tracks at the words but manage to keep your feet moving as you look up at him. He still doesn’t look at you.

“What?”

“The name of the pub? That we are currently walking to?”

“Well, I know where we’re going, but have no idea what your plans are.”

“We were planning on going where you suggested. I hear you’re a local, good knowledge and all that.”

“So you really are following me?”

He hums, his lips twitching in that way that shows he’s amused but is trying not to show it. You look away from him, try to focus on the road before you. Try to focus on sobering up, in your current state you’re pretty sure you’ll say something you’ll regret.

You see Jin obnoxiously ranting about something to Diana, swaying around the road as his splays his hands for emphasis. Diana isn’t even looking at him, too busy chatting to Mary. Taehyung is walking while looking down at his phone, his feet occasionally tripping, but he always catches himself before he falls. Jimin is nowhere to be seen.

“I can introduce you to my friends if you want?” You look back at Jungkook. “I mean, if it will help? Show I’m not a weirdo or whatever it is you’re currently thinking about me.”

You look behind you again, see his friends in the same state as before, trailing a bit further behind now, but still following after you. Something clicks in your head and you turn to look back at Jungkook.

You don’t know how much he’s drunk tonight, probably not much considering how put together he still looks, how his pupils haven’t blown up in size. But his outfit is the same, the same slim waist, the same smooth skin, same wide shoulders, same gorgeous face. Same man who is totally out of your reach and who totally shouldn’t be chasing after you.

“Is this some sort of dare?”

It’s Jungkooks turn to look at you confused. You have to give it to him, he looks convincing, his facade not even cracking enough for you to see he knows what you’re talking about.

“You’re on a stag,” you start to clarify, though you’re not sure why, he should know what you mean. “Isn’t that what you do? Set dares. Do stupid things you think are funny but are actually dickish.”

“Dickish?”

“People tape the stag to lampposts naked, Jungkook.”

“People?” he says, the amusement back in his tone. “And let me guess, just like thinking I frequent strip clubs, you think I’m one of these people?”

“It just doesn’t make sense,” you say, unable to look at him. “But it’s the only reason that makes sense for why you keep following me.”

“The only –” he cuts himself off with a shake of the head. “You really are drunk.”

You frown into yourself. Refuse to look at him even though you can almost feel him trying to catch your attention. Just continue to walk, continue to focus on the road in front of you.

“Y/N, seriously? I didn’t speak to you because of a dare. I saw you –”

You don’t hear the rest of what Jungkook says because someone slips up to your other side and takes hold of your arm. You wobble on your feet, stutter over a few steps to try and regain balance as your weight is pulled off balance.

“Hello,” the voice attached to the weight says. “And who is this?”

You try to push Jimin off you, but he’s like a leech, or one of those sea urchins that stick to rocks, just won’t let go of you. You should have known this would happen as soon as you saw Jimin was missing. Really, you should have guessed this would happen as soon as Jungkook started to talk to you.

It’s all more reason for you to get rid of Jungkook.

“Hey, I’m Jungkook.”

He reaches around you, sticks his hand out for Jimin to shake and you watch in horror as Jimin takes the offer. This is not good. You can almost see your opportunities to get rid of Jungkook dwindling. You’re not sure why you need him gone, there’s just some part of your brain telling you he’s no good, that he shouldn’t be here, that he needs to be gone.

“And I’m Jimin.”

Their hands are still attached in front of you. It’s been too long; they shouldn’t still have their hands clasped. Maybe you’ve misread this and Jungkook is here for Jimin and not you. You tug your arm that Jimin is attached to hard enough for him to break his contact with Jungkook.

“And this is Y/N,” Jimin smiles at you like butter wouldn’t melt and you can only glare at him.

“So I’ve heard,” Jungkook says the words lightly, but you still hear them.

“And it was so nice to meet you, but it looks like we’re going this way and you’re going that way.” You’re pointing in the direction Jin’s going, a road heading off the one you’re currently on.

You don’t wait for a response, just cling onto Jimin’s arm and attempt to drag him away from Jungkook. Unfortunately, Jimin may look small, but when he wants to, he can become a mass that can’t be moved.

“You should come with us,” you can hear the excitement at the idea in Jimin’s voice.

You try not to grind your teeth at those words. No, Jungkook shouldn’t come with you. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

“I think Jungkook has other plans, Jimin. He’s on a stag and -”

“Yeah, we can come,” Jungkook says easily, cutting through your voice as if you weren’t talking.

You turn to him incredulous. Can this man not take a hint? He just smiles back at you, innocent though you can see a glint in his eye like he knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly how much he’s affecting you.

“Don’t you and your friends want to go have a nice night alone?”

“You guys seem fun. I’m sure they’ll be happy to tag along.”

“Well, don’t you want to ask them?”

He shrugs like it’s not a big deal but still turns to the group that’s still walking after you. He shouts out that you and Jimin are heading to a pub and whether they want to join. Annoyingly they all shout back that they would.

You’re outnumbered. You know it. And by the look on Jungkooks face, he knows it.

“Fine, let’s go.”

[cyncerity]

I drew something for the Dad’s Troubles AU cause I don’t want it to die!

Q is in pain and bitching about it

Close up internal and Q w/out the internal and a lot of extra writing under the cut.

So this takes place after Quackity noms Ranboo and, realizing he can’t spit him out as planned, noms Tubbo shortly after to comfort him (all of which I’ve mentioned in the first draft for this au)

Warning that I’m about to rant about this au a lot (mostly about Schlatt and Quackity’s relationship) and if you wanna read anything else about the actual art, just read the first and last paragraphs (the last four are a short that happens after the events of the picture because I have zero self control)

A few things I didn’t mention that I put in the pictures is that Quackity feels like shit rn. I mentioned that Ranboo was way too big to comfortably fit inside of Q’s belly, so adding Tubbo to that weight was a big mistake. And he still can’t spit out either of them for the next..maybe 10 or 11 hours at this point. And he doesn’t want his fiancé’s fussing over him so he leaves and walks down the hallway to Schlatt’s place, since he’s the only one who kinda understands this stuff and the only person he can talk about Tubbo to.

I’ve seen a lot of aus where Schlatt and Quackity have a really toxic relationship and Schlatt never loved Q and Q got manipulated and yada yada yada but please let me have my one au where it’s different. Yes, Quackity and Schlatt used to love each other. Yes, they were engaged. Yes, the broke it off, but it was on neutral terms. They both agreed that they were dumb fresh out of high school kids when they wanted to get married and now that they were adults they just didn’t mix well anymore. Hell, they started going out because of a game of “gay chicken” gone too long. There’s no way they could go through with years of marriage together. But Quackity’s just happy that he became Tubbo’s “mom” through the proposal. (Tubbo exclusively refers to Quackity as “mom” or “mama Q.” Quackity thinks it’s hilarious and has never objected to the name. He has, though, asked Tubbo where the nickname came from. His son changes the subject every time, and has refused to answer the question for years now.)

I know I put something a little different earlier, but it’s my au so I’m changing it, but Q and Schlatt were still engaged when Q “met” Tubbo (the losing the bet incident that resulted in the first time Schlatt swallowed Tubbo). Schlatt explained the next morning that Tubbo was his son and that if Quackity was gonna marry him, he had to get used to Tubbo and treat him like a normal kid. He didn’t have to help raise him since “he’s tiny, I can handle him by myself,” but Q felt a sense of obligation since the marriage would make him the tiny’s official dad, so he did his best to help raise the kid.

He never regretted it. He loves Tubbo just as much as Schlatt does, even after they broke up. When they told Tubbo they weren’t gonna get married anymore, he just asked if Quackity was gonna leave him “again,” whatever that meant. He said no. Tubbo felt better after that. Presently, Tubbo doesn’t care that his parents aren’t married. They love him, and they care about it each other, even if it isn’t romantic anymore. (Also, Tubbo has been begging Quackity to let him be the ring bearer at his wedding with Karl and Sapnap since their first date).

Safe to say, Quackity and Schlatt are best friends. Quackity has a back up key to Schlatt’s apartment and will break in in the middle of the night to do whatever. Most of the time that’s breaking in and waking Schlatt up so he can complain about something. This usually ends with a pillow getting thrown in his face before Schlatt falls right back asleep. That’s kinda what happened with the pictures above (see, it wasn’t just a rant, I brought it back around to the art. I’m a genius).

Schlatt was literally just trying to go to sleep before Q bursts the door open, hand on his stomach which is extended far more then normal, and a pained look in his eye. “Schlatt, I fucked up.” “What happened and where’s our son.” “In here, he’s not alone, I can’t get them out because my fiancés are idiots, and my internal organs are being stretched too far and I feel full in the worst way and it fucking hurts and I crave death.” Schlatt sighed and turned on the coffee machine, filling his mug before walking to his couch and sitting down, patting the open spot next to him. “Talk to me.” Q dramatically flopped down next him, wincing immediately after at what Schlatt could only assume to be Tubbo and whoever else getting thrown around his gut due to the sudden movement. Quackity began to ramble about what had happened earlier, hand never leaving his stomach. Schlatt just listened.

The next morning, Schlatt woke up to Quackity leaning on him, still fast asleep. Schlatt shook his shoulder, eventually slowly waking the man up. “What do you want?” Q whispered, still half asleep. “I want you to spit out the poor soul that’s been stuck in your belly all night. Probably scared the fuck out’ve ‘em. Also, I’m sure You and Tubbo and them are hungry, and none of you can eat while your like this. I don’t think you could fit anything else in there if you tried, anyways.” Schlatt said, smirking and poking Quackity’s stomach. Q smacked the finger away and got to work getting the two out of his gut as Schlatt walked away to get food. He came back to see Quackity and Tubbo talking as the sleeping borrower layed on a washcloth on Q’s lap. Tubbo himself had a washcloth, too, and was trying to scrub the spit off of him as he saw Schlatt walk up the the couch with a plate of fruit.

“Dad!” “Yes?” Schlatt smiled, looking down to meet eyes with the tiny, who had a glare on his face and fire in his eyes. “You’re a dickhead.” “Woah, what did I do?” He laughed, and Tubbo smiled back “‘Oh you probably scared them,’ ‘you need to check on the borrower you swallowed last night.’ You forget about me or something?” Tubbo began to dramatically fall off the table, Schlatt’s hand instinctually coming up from under his to keep him from actually hurting himself as Q scoffed, barely containing his laughter. “Your very own son, worthless, abandoned! Forgotten by the man who raised him in favor of another borrower he’d never even met!” Quackity finally laughed out loud before Schlatt slid Tubbo down on his palm and loosely closed his hand around his torso and head, keeping him from speaking as he brought his other hand under him for support. “Ok you drama queen, I get it. You have jealousy issues.” Schlatt said as he set Tubbo back down on the couch near the fruit plate. Tubbo picked up a grape and bit into it before trying to shout “I don’t!” “Dont talk with your mouth full. Besides, I’m not worried about you. You’ve spent longer than 12 hours in specifically Quackity’s stomach before, never mind me and Q’s. I think your record with me was 2 days. So you’re far more than used to this than they are. We’ve been swallowing you for a while, but this other kid must’ve thought they were gonna die. Did they seem ok while you were in there with them?”

Tubbo swallowed another bite of his grape and shrugged. “I don’t know. They seemed pretty panicked when I first got in there with them. They may have relaxed a bit when I told them that we were in my mom and we could trust him. But that might’ve just been confusion since mama Q is, y’know, a guy, and they knew that and I just referred to this random human man as ‘mom.’” Schlatt could practically sense Quackity facepalm without even having to look at him. “At least that bit got them to stop crying some. But they seemed to calm down at least a little after a few more hours. Enough to fall asleep, anyways.” “Alright, that sounds…good, probably.” Schlatt responded looking back to the still unconscious borrower. “Damn, Alex, I feel bad for you. How did they even fit in there?” Quackity went to reply before Tubbo cut him off. “That’s what I was thinking, too!” Tubbo exclaimed. “His belly is, like, barely over half the size of yours. And I normally have extra room. But god was it cramped in there last night.” “Yeah, it seems like it would’ve been.” “It was. I can tell you right now, it was.” Schlatt laughed, picking up Tubbo and moving to sit down next to Quackity as he set Tubbo on his lap next to the other borrower. “So, what are we gonna do when they wake up?” Quackity asked. Schlatt shrugged. “The best we can.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Hello there may I request the Dimitrescu daughters celebrating their s/o birthday, it’s my birthday today☺️

Happy belated birthday, anon!!! Wishing you many more happy (and hopefully less chaotic) years to come! Under read more for length.

Bela + Birthday

On one hand, she wants to be the first thing you see when you wake up. On the other hand, she’s got a million things planned, and no matter how much help she enlists, she’s bound to end up running late. So maybe she’s not the first thing you see, but she’s crawling into your bed before you have a chance to fully wake up. Wrapping her arms around you, murmuring ‘good morning’ and ‘I love you’ into your ears. Sleepy kisses all around<3

Will stay with you for as long as you want, but will ‘subtly’ encourage you to get up eventually, after all she’s spent the past month planning this day. It’s possible that she’ll end up slowly sliding out of bed, an inch a minute, saying ‘no more kisses until you get up’.

Once you’re out of bed, it’s time for a decadent breakfast. A whole buffet table filled with your favorites (the ones appropriate for this time of day, at least), with any servants you’re friends with being allowed to join in. If you’re not from Romania, Bela will go out of her way to have the cooks learn recipes from whatever country you grew up in. Might throw in a few non-breakfast items too. Mmmm, thinking about my family’s krumkake recipe now, so good<3

What happens next depends a lot on your specific personality. If you enjoy parties and social gatherings, there will be festivities in one of the castle’s larger rooms, again with any of your friends being allowed to join (even visitors from the village, should you wish to invite them). A large cake will be served, likely baked by none other than Ava Caldwell (please excuse my shameless OC mention).

If you’re more introverted, or shy, Bela will keep the gathering very small, likely just her family and you. There will be music, a few gifts from the family, similar but smaller treats. Less energetic, more casual and comfy family time.

Come lunch time, the two of you will have some private time again. Depending on weather/season, she’ll either take you for a picnic in the garden, or a quiet meal in the observatory. Think candles, lots of strategically placed flowers, warm blankets… all that cheesy stuff. Afterwards, she’ll let you take the reins for a bit. Essentially, you’ll spend some quality time doing your favorite hobbies together. Feel free to info dump/rant all you want, Bela will stare at you with love in her eyes regardless of the subject.

Once you’ve had your fun together, it’ll be time for dinner, which will once more be with her family. Everyone will be on their best behavior (under threat of blackmail, except for Alcina, who’s just, you know, a good mother who wants her daughter to be happy). Again the cooks will go all out for the meal, making whatever dishes weren’t appropriate for breakfast. There will probably be leftovers- unless, of course, you decide to let the other servants enjoy what you cannot finish.

Finally, before bed, Bela will let you open the gifts from her. The two of you will be in either her room or her private study, away from everyone else. She’ll have prepared 3 gifts for you. One will relate to your personal interests (a hobby, a movie/book series you love, etc), one will be something the two of you can do together, and the last will be something you can wear/keep on you to remind you of her (not that you could ever forget, really).

I’ll leave the detail of what happens that night to your imagination, dear reader, so as to not assume anything about *ahem* attractions, gender, or any possible… deviances (kinks, if that wasn’t clear). Regardless, there is cuddling<3

Cassandra + Birthday

Wakes you up, first thing in the morning, with kisses. Just crawls into bed with you and smothers you in somewhat sleepy affection. Do you know how hard it was for her to get up at this hour? Relatively! Which is why you’re not allowed to get up get up, at least not for a while. Mandatory girlfriend snuggles. No escape. If the two of you are, ya know, of the persuasion to do certain things… without clothing… then yeah, that’s probably also happening. Please don’t judge me, I’m tired (and asexual) and am trying to avoid this being unnecessarily ns/fw.

Doesn’t really want to share you at all, even on your birthday, but will let you mingle with friends/have a nice group breakfast if that’s what you want. Just expect to be sitting in her lap for as long as she can get you to, alright? Might tone it down if her family is around (okay, well, if her mother is around). Will pretend to judge people for whatever gifts they get you unless you specifically ask her to stop. Repeatedly whispers things in your ears to distract you, ranging from the audaciously inappropriate to “my gift is going to be so much better than that” to very sweet “I love you”s.

Lets you plan as much or as little as you want for your special day, though won’t hesitate to suggest things if you struggle to come up with stuff/can’t decide. Again, she’d prefer to spend as much of the day with you as possible, and would prefer your gatherings be very small. Like, maybe just the two of you. Going on a hike to your favorite spot, or painting together (even if you don’t know what you’re doing, because she’ll get nice and close to help ;) ), or just curling up with her somewhere cozy.

Whatever you end up doing for the day, she’ll probably have a servant pack you guys some lunches, so you don’t have to interrupt whatever you’re doing.

Dinner will be… a surprise. Planning is not her area of expertise, so Cassandra will enlist the help of her older sister, resulting in a romantic meal that, well, at least has hints of your girlfriend’s personality in it. Yes, she picked out the color of the napkins. Yes, the flowers she had asked for turned out to be poisonous, so yes they did have to swap them out last minute. Oops, you darn humans and your ‘mortal weaknesses’. Honestly, the display is very touching. She asked for help to do something nice for you<3

At the end of the night, she’ll take you to her art studio, where there’s a big painting that’s been covered up for a few days or so. She’ll pull the sheet off, oddly shy, and you’ll see it’s a lovely portrait of the two of you… except you’ll be wearing a necklace that you’ve never seen before. Which Cassandra will quickly pull out of her pocket, to give you as the second part of your gift :D

Cue a night of cuddling (and possibly other activities… such as sleeping).

Daniela + Birthday

Might as well bodyslam you first thing in the morning, honestly. She’s very excited, and loves you very much, and just wants to have some nice morning cuddling (and kissing). Solution? Make sure that she spends the previous night in the same bed as you. Seriously, it’ll save you a fair amount of pain.

Has the least planned of the three, despite having the most ideas, mostly because she struggles to actually organize things. Expect to spend however long you want in bed, just relaxing, probably still with lots of kisses and cheesy dialogue about how much she loves you. When you get up, however, the two of you will be surprised to see that Daniela’s family decided to help her get shit together.

There will be a nice breakfast, with your friends present, and Bela might even delay her own meal just to play some music for you. Afterwards, the family will give you their gifts. They won’t make you open them yet if you decide to save it for later, though, so no worries.

Then, you and Daniela will be encouraged to go out and have some fun. Which means a nice almost-picnic in the gardens, with less of a meal, more of some sweets/snackies. Cue more cuddling, and dorky poetry reading. The poetry will always start out serious… but by the end you’ll both be trying to find the lamest, cheesiest poems you can get, reading them to each other in increasingly ridiculous voices. Somehow you’ll end up reciting dirty limericks. Eventually you realize that Daniela isn’t even going through her books to find them, and is actually making them up as she goes. You’re not sure you want to know how she gained this skill.

Eventually you’ll head back inside, for lunch. At this point, there will be more music, some optional dancing, with a surprising amount of servants being allowed to just enjoy themselves. If parties aren’t your thing, Daniela will be more than willing to sneak you off somewhere more… private. For various reasons, you know. Doesn’t have to be anything more than cuddling. But this is Daniela we’re talking about, so…

The evening will mostly be up to you, with Daniela wanting to do whatever you want to do, even if it’s not something she’d normally enjoy. She just wants you to be happy<3

Dinner will be romantic, like with Cassandra, if admittedly far more chaotic. Still, it’s very lovely, and she’ll probably get adorably flustered as she tries to make things perfect for you. Expect her to get you multiple smaller gifts, and repeatedly mention that she wasn’t sure what to get you, so she kinda just… got everything. It might be best to reassure her that you mostly care about spending time with her. But, you know, also tell her you enjoy the gifts because she really did panic about them.