#because apparently it's no longer free for students in my school. i mean it is. on the browser. but not on the apps.

[dormiloncito]

fighting for my life on microsoft 365

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Dear MagISoWo,

Hello! I really appreciate all of the good work you do for our community! My three-year-old daughter just started this year at our town's public preschool program and is the only faun in her school. She does qualify for the free school breakfast and lunch program and it's been a godsend for me as a single dad on a delivery driver's wage, you know? Anyway, you might or might not know that fauns need significantly more of certain minerals such as sodium as compared to humans. Most of us, if we're eating human-style food, add a supplemental mineral mix -- salt mixed with granular forms of the other minerals we need. Given my daughter's young age, I arranged with her teachers to have her minerals added to her food when they give it her, and as of the time she enrolled none of them indicated that this might be a problem. However, the other day she came home from school with a stomachache and mentioned that her substitute teacher had told her that she wasn't allowed to have her minerals. I went to the principal hoping to get this cleared up, and apparently this was the first he'd heard of our arrangement, and he stated that the substitute had acted correctly in his view, and that her regular classroom teachers would also no longer be allowed to serve her the food with the mineral mix now that he'd been made aware. Apparently their nutritional guidelines forbid serving food with added sodium because of the health risks for human children, and they would be at risk of losing their federal food program funding. They told me that if I want to have more control over what my daughter eats at school I'm always welcome to send packed lunches from home, but grocery money is tight as it is and it would be a financial challenge to pull her out of the free meals program. Do I have any recourse here? Are there protections for magical children in situations like this?

Thank you

Hello,

We're very sorry to hear that you ran into trouble at your child's school. The School Meals program is meant to make life easier, not more stressful and it is definitely not meant to exclude non-human students. Providing this kind of service on a national schale is relatively new, however, and a lot of schools still have some trouble with the practical implementation. We hope your principal has simply misunderstood the regulations of the program, because there is definitely room to adapt meals according to a child's personal dietary needs.

Sadly there is not one clear statement in the program's terms we can point to for an immediate solution, because different solutions are suggested for different situations. Some children require very different food than their fellow students. (Such as uncooked meat, blood, coal, raw honey, etc.) And schools cannot be expected to provide meals suitable for every single diet.

Some children, like your daughter, only need small changes to a meal. Like eliminating a certain ingredient or adding a supplement. The School Meals program encourages schools to accomodate these students by having the parent or guardian of the child to provide an explicit instruction on how their child's meal is to be changed, and to sign this document to give the school permission to do so. We will enclose the link to the government page on the School Meals program where this suggestion is explained. If you provide such a document, plus the supplements your child needs, we expect the school will comply.

However, schools do have the option to refuse adding supplements or medications to children's meals, if they deem it too difficult a procedure to carry responsiblity for. It does not sound like this applies in your case, but if they choose to go this route you can always apply for Grocery Cards instead. These are also provided by the School Meals program, and function as coupons that can be used in most super markets, bakeries and farmers markets. They are mean especially for everyone who wants to ensure their children eat well, but cannot easily make use of the meals provided at their school. We will enclose a flyer on how to apply for them, should you want to look into that option. Considering your current situation, you should already qualify.

Best of luck and please don't hesitate to come to one of our local after school activities if you could use a hand with anything else!

~ the MagiSoWo Team

[pleaseholdfor5hours]

Random middle school memories: part 2

(Link to part 1)

There was that familiar feeling in the air throughout Isaac's classroom. The feeling that this wasn't going to be a laid back day today. Every student knew what was going to happen today. Today was the day of the test that will count for 30% of their grade.

Should be simple, right? Take everything they have learned from the current unit they were just taught and hope they remember it all. The tests aren't that hard, but not too easy either. Expect for today.

Issac was going around the classroom, handing each student a paper of the test. He makes at least three different versions of the test to prevent students from cheating off another. "Alright kids, you know the drill. No notes, no talking, no Morse code, and no electronics during the test. If I find you cheated during the test, it's a automatic zero. Anyways, you may begin." Issac announced to the class one he gave the last student the test and went back to his desk.

The class room was silent, the students picking up their pencils or pens, and writing their names. But the silence wouldn't stay for long as a bunch of students make confused noises and a bunch of, "huh?". Either all of them were stupid and didn't learn a thing from this unit, or Issac has made the test harder on purpose.

Question 1 didn't look familiar to anything they were taught, nor was question 2, or 3, 4, 5 and so on. Basically no one knew a single thing on the entire test. And the test was 2 pages with 40 questions. This was bad, no one knew what to do.

Some students look at Ikari, who sits somewhat near the middle back row of class. They gave him a look trying to say, "Do you know anything on this test?" And you KNOW it's bad when Ikari makes the most exhausted and confused face know to man, because he was the smartest kid in the class and if the smartest kid in the class doesn't know the answers then that means everyone is screwed.

The test was long, took longer than it needed to be. The students were finally free for lunch, and they chatted about the test as they headed down to the cafeteria.

"What sort of test was that? I swear I guessed everything on that test." Girl A said to girl B.

"I have no clue, but I'm sure we'll all have a bad grade because of it now... Hey Ikari what did you think of the test?" Girl B said to Girl A befor turning her attention to Ikari who was walking past them.

Ikari was munching in a blue lollipop, he looked stressed and tired. The lollipop wasn't even there, it was just the stick left. "............. worst test of my life. My brain hurts...."

"Yikes." Both the girls said.

Meanwhile, in his classroom, Issac was already starting to grade papers, not wasting any time. He grades the students' papers by last name alphabetically. Meaning he always grades Ikari's paper first because Ikari doesn't have a last name. Issac gave a confused look as he graded Ikari's test, giving him a grade of 60.

"Huh, Ikari is normal better than this. Did he have a off week? Did I not teach him properly?" Isaac mumbled to himself as he continues grading the papers. Eventually he stops halfway once he noticed at majority of the students are getting a score under 50. Thats when it dawned upon him.

He accidentally gave them the next unit test, something they haven't been taught yet, instead of the current unit test. This was his mistake and apparently he had been on autopilot all day today. It was awkward that day telling the students after lunch that their teacher might have accident gave them the wrong test.

Yeah, they weren't so happy about the news.

[raincitygirl76]

I had a really interesting Skype conversation with my uncle in England on the weekend which indirectly referenced the contempt non-residents are held in at Hillerska. He went (as did my father and my other uncle) to Abberley Hall (a now defunct prep school in Shropshire for boys aged 8-12) and then to Rugby School in Warwickshire (a fairly prestigious "public" - which actually means private and expensive) boarding school for boys aged 13-18. It's still around, now co-ed.

I asked him how day boys (non-residents who lived locally with their parents and paid much lower fees as a result) and scholarship boys were treated by boys whose parents were paying full fees. The answers were illuminating of Simon and Sara's position at Hillerska.

At Abberley, my uncle couldn't recall any scholarship boys. I guess at 8, you're a little young for academic scholarships. Blows my mind, by the way, that well-off British people routinely sent their sons off to boarding school at only 8 years old. But I digress. There were some day boys who lived locally, and he remembered some snobbery against them.

His memories of Rugby were much more interesting. The nearby town of Rugby was fairly large, even back in 1954 when he started there, aged 13. He was a boarder on full fees. There were a fair number of boys living off-campus in the town, attending on reduced fees because they weren't boarding. They were all grouped together in Town House. The boarders used to make fun of them because they usually came from rather more modest backgrounds than the boarders.

Still not actually modest as in working class, because even day fees for a prestigious school were quite expensive. But the assumption by the boarders was usually not that Town House boys were there because their parents wanted them home at night and found a prestigious school's proximity convenient. The assumption was that their parents couldn't afford to give them a "real" boarding school education.

Also, many of the day boys did not have the typical public school accent beaten into them (when I say beaten in, I mean that literally. Rugby was very big on corporal punishment). So their regional Midlands accents were mocked by the boarders. Who all spoke Received Pronunciation no matter where in the UK they'd grown up.

The boys who were there on scholarship, though, really got it in the neck. Whether they were living locally and part of Town House, or lived far away and were boarding, it was always known who was a scholarship boy. They got a lot of mockery because everybody knew for damn sure their parents couldn't afford the fees. They were called "swots", because they were only at Rugby due to studying so hard.

The only scholarship boys who didn't get bullied for being poor were the ones who were also very good at sports. There was one scholarship boy in my uncle's year and house who was extremely good at rugby (or rugger as they called it at Rugby, to distinguish the sport from the school at which it originated). He mostly did not get any flack from the boarders, even though he studied hard and had excellent grades. The other scholarship boys, though, they got flack.

Now, Simon and Sara are not at Hillerska on scholarship, because by law, Swedish schooling is free. Nonetheless, Hillerska offers MANY more enrichment opportunities than the average public school which is getting the same exact same amount of money per student from the Swedish government. Apparently when the government decreed that schools could no longer charge for tuition, boarding schools just pivoted. They didn't lower their fees one bit, they simply claimed the money was all going towards room and board.

Note in 1.02, Headmistress Anette Lilja even refers to August's missing tuition payment as tuition. Even though theoretically it's just a fee for room and board. Anette is old enough that for most of her professional life, Hillerska would've charged tuition and called it that officially. So yeah, the boarders probably feel like the fees their parents are paying are subsidizing the "freeloader" non-boarders.

Simon and Sara, even though they're not there on scholarships technically, are probably the Swedish equivalent of scholarship students. Hillerska would only accept the cream of the crop of non-boarders, students who will be an asset to the school and bring up their grade point average. Sara probably got in because of her grades. Simon probably got in partly for grades (he said in 1.02 that he got straight As at Marieberg) and partly for his musical talent.

Hillerska is a very exclusive school. They don't need to accept any student they don't want to, especially non-boarders whose parents aren't shelling out an arm and a leg in tuition. Hillerska accepted the Eriksson siblings because it benefited them to do so. But the other students, whose parents are paying full fees, won't necessarily see it that way.

Especially with Simon, who refuses to act grateful and humble about this opportunity to be among his social betters. Sara gets kind of a pass because she accepts the Hillerska hierarchy and doesn't complain about it or fight against it. But Sara also had a much more traumatic experience at Marieberg than Simon did.

So she's just keeping her head down and is grateful to merely be ignored rather than actively picked on. Plus, there are horses she gets to be around. Plus, Hillerska is a very structured environment with lots of rules. For Sara, being on the spectrum, it's probably helpful to know exactly what the rules are.

[jokertrap-ran]

[スタオケ] La Corda d'Oro Starlight Orchestra Main Story Chapter 2-15 Translation

*Starlight Orchestra Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Main story tag will be #Main Starlight

Akira: Yo, Osakabe. How are things lookin’?

Seiji: I'm still waiting for a quote. They're a small construction company, so it'll take a little while longer than usual.

Seiji: In any case, fixing the roof would be the biggest expense. We should still be able to remain within the budget if we can keep the roof expenses under control. 

Akira: Yeah, well, the roof is one thing, but we can't leave the walls as it is either. They're peelin’ off quite a bit, aren't they?

Seiji: Well if push comes to shove, we can hire a professional for the initial inspection and handle the rest ourselves.

Seiji: If you aren't picky about the quality, painting a wall isn't really that hard of a task.

Akira: Oh, that sounds good. It'll spare us some expense, and we'll all have to do what we can to help out.

Akira: One of my guys’ family runs a house paintin’ business.

Akira: I'll try asking him about it to see if we can get it done for cheaper.

Seiji: Please do. I'll try to see if we have other options in the meantime.

Seiji: —Speaking of the devil… That should be the construction company I was talking about.

Seiji: …Hello. Yes, this is Osakabe speaking. Regarding the quote we previously discussed…

Joyo Male Student 1: W-Why are those two…

Joyo Male Student 2: What's going on all of a sudden?

Joyo Male Student 3: They're both talking to each other… Normally! Is it… Is it gonna snow tomorrow or something!?

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Tomoeda: President! What happened!?

Seiji: What do you mean what happened?

Tomoeda: Please do not play dumb! Rumors about you and Kirigaya are spreading like wildfire throughout the school!

Tomoeda: Rumors about how the upright Student Council president with a spotless record was talking to a delinquent.

Seiji: I see? 

Tomoeda: No one took their lessons seriously today. Everyone was jumping at the news.

Seiji: They stopped attending their classes just because I talked to someone? How deplorable.

Tomoeda: But that's not the main point here! He's… He's a delinquent, isn't he? Someone you should be cracking down on!

Seiji: …Indeed.

Tomoeda: I-Indeed…? What's gotten into you?

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Yasu: Boss! What's goin’ on!?

Akira: What do you mean? Is there something goin’ on?

Yasu: Don't shit with me! Weren't you being all chummy with that guy Osakabe today!?

Akira: Yeah. We had business.

Yasu: No, no, even if it was business, I'm sure that guy was there faultin’ you for somethin’, right?

Yasu: There's no need to talk to the insufferable Student Council!

Akira: Perhaps.

Yasu: P-Perhaps…? What's gotten into you this time, Boss?

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Numahira: Have you heard about the rumors, Busujima? About Akira’s little group.

Numahira: Apparently, they're going to be holding a concert in those ruins. They sure do have the spare time to do such leisurely things.

Busujima: A… concert? That guy…?

Numahira: Can you believe it? He’s even spending money to repair that dump.

Numahira: Don't you think it’d be great if such an important concert of his was ruined?

Bushijma: Yeah.

Numahira: Our last fight ended midway after all… and what a half-hearted fight it was…

Numahira: This time, I'll make sure to wreck him so badly that he'll never get up again.

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬Main Starlight♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-14) Next Part: (Chapter 2-16)

[bookworm-center]

Duo Of Chaos

Senku Ishigami x Fem!Reader

Chapter I: Kurayami

Y/n Asagiri

I can't help the happy little gasp that escapes my lips. I had dreamed of this day for as long as I could remember, ever since my parents told me tales of Kurayami. And now that I was finally here... It's even more gorgeous than I could have pictured.

Kurayami is built like a traditional sort of Japanese temple, except somehow with a magic flare to it. The three main buildings stretch up to the sky, roof tops covered with red clay tiles, walls made with dark wood panels. Lanterns adorn the latticework windows, lighting up the star dotted sky. The trees that peak out of the gaps in brickwork have already donned their fall hues of oranges and reds. I wish I could soak in the scene a little longer, but I'm quickly ushered inside by my older brother Gen, who seems a little too eager to be out of the cold.

My gaze darts around, standing on my tiptoes in hopes of finding my best friend. He had to be here. I'd spent the past week trying to convince him that magic was real and that he apparently had it, so my hard work had better not gone to waste. I can't catch a glimpse of him or his radish hair, not before there's a loud voice from the front of the room. Wherever we've been brought, it's crowded with people and chatter but it's all quiet once the voice speaks. I'm too far back in the room to see whose speaking, but judging from the expression of obedience of everyone's faces, it must be the head of the school.

I can't remember their name, or anything about them, only all of my parents' praises of their work and the disgruntled expression Gen always offered in response.

"Good evening students," their voice washes over me, a strange sense of calmness flowing over me in waves. "Welcome to Kurayami. My name is Kaze Kurayami. I am descended from the founders of this school. You may address me in any way you see fit, but do not think that makes me a friend." I can sense a hint of rage that quickly fades away. "New students, please file into the room on the left for orientation. Returning students, head to the right where you will be directed to your rooms for this year."

They raise their hand and speak one last phrase. It's too many syllables and letters, all swirled together into some language that I don't know, but somehow most of the students know it? Even Gen mutters the phrase next to me and he's never been particularly smart. Oh shit, does this mean I have to learn a new language?

I don't get a chance to ask Gen because by the time I turn to him, the walls are already shifting up and down and pulling away material into a doorway. It's the first time that I've ever seen this kind of magic, the kind that can morph the existing into something else. With that, I shuffle my way into the room to the left, fiddling with the strings to my sweatshirt.

A hand grips my shoulder. It's instinct to me to flip them over, grabbing their wrist. I'm not insanely strong but I know enough martial arts to defend myself so the person of grabbed me comes toppling to the ground.

My best friend lies on the ground, clutching his neck and groaning. His lab coat is stuffed to the bring with vials of some science stuff, sweater  and jeans pressed free of wrinkles. "Thanks for that, witchy."

"I told you, I'm not a witch, Senku. I'm a practitioner of the arcane." It's wordy, yeah, but that's the truth. "If anything I'm a sorceress."

Senku cracks a laugh. "Leave it to you to berate me on my sixteenth birthday."

I grin. "Like you care about that sort of thing." I heave Senku to his feet. In response, he flicks my forehead. I scowl but direct my attention to where the head of the school stands.

Since this room is a bit smaller than the last, I can finally get a good look at them. Contrary to all the beliefs about the world of magic, we don't all use wands and spells like how Harry Potter did a few years ago (Apparently he was famous enough that some normal human wrote a book series about him. I heard she turned out to be a bitch though...).

Instead, their hands glow with the bright blue of spacial arcana, strands of their blond curled hair dyed the same color. Their outfit consists of a sweater in bloody crimson and pants in the same color. A necklace of sorts rests against their collarbone, the gold strands glittering in the faint light, the glass clear jewels dangling down to their waist.

"I'll say it once more to you new students. Welcome to Kurayami, School of the Arcane." A small smile spreads across my face. Finally, I was here. After all the years of my life spent waiting for this day, I could finally learn to embrace and control this magic in me. I glance sideways to where Senku stands beside me. And I get to do it with my best friend!

...How was I supposed to know that the year just spiralled downwards from that point?

Author's Note: This fic was originally a Hogwarts AU but it's been reworked and rewritten so now the worldbuilding and magic system are my own (though the magic is loosely inspired by the Grisha in the Grishaverse). I have worked so hard on all the worldbuilding and plot, so I hope you enjoy this fic!

[1101001]

THE GIRL WHO FLEW DOWN THE STAIRS _

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

‘ the story of akashi meeting you and all the events after that made him realize he was falling for you ’

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

character .. akashi seijuurou

word count .. 1.3k

tags .. fem!reader who is energetic but also thoughtful and likes to learn (as requested) , lowkey pining? , s h o g i , written from akashi pov , requested by the lovely bean anon <3 

Akashi’s first impression of you wasn’t anything bad. It wasn’t exactly good either. It was certainly memorable though. ‘The girl who flew down the stairs, knocking him onto the ground, and landing on top of him with a thump’ is how he remembers you. 

The moment was almost cliche. If your eyes had met and lingered on each other, both aware of the position you were in but not moving away, then it possibly would’ve been a scene straight out of some cheesy romance novel. 

Instead, you seemingly bounced straight up upon impact, not even bothering to spare Akashi a second glance. You proceeded to give him a quick apology, running down the next flight of stairs immediately after.

It was definitely one of the odder interactions Akashi had with his fellow students at Rakuzan High, but it amused him nonetheless and made him notice you much more often around campus. Even though you weren’t in any apparent rush anymore, you still radiated this energy that was all bubbly and seemingly ready to burst. 

It brought a small smile on his face every time he saw you, bouncing along hallways without a care in the world, chattering away with your friends. Sure you seemed like the typical happy-go-lucky person, but Akashi couldn’t help but see you as a bit more unique.

Your second interaction with Akashi was an interesting one too, in Akashi’s opinion at least. 

The basketball team had just won a tournament the other day, so Akashi was free this afternoon. He had decided to go challenge some shogi club members to a few games. 

In the middle of one of those games, you walked into the club room.

Akashi didn’t think you were part of the club, and his suspicions were confirmed when another member of the club went to ask if you needed anything. Akashi was definitely not eavesdropping, no he was paying attention to his game (the one he knew he would easily win anyway) when you pulled out an envelope and he happened to overhear you telling the club member that someone asked to meet you. 

Nobody in the room came forward to claim they were the one who sent the letter though. 

After a few awkward, silent moments, you moved to take a seat with some of the other club members. It was an action that surprised Akashi. He figured you would’ve just left because the whole did seem like a waste of time. However, you just sat there asking some club members to teach you how to play. 

Akashi could sense genuine curiosity in you and, needless to say, it intrigued him. It seems like there’s more to the “girl made of energy” than he originally thought.

The clock ticked, and a few rounds later, Akashi decided it was time to head home. Saying his formal goodbyes, he walked out of the clubroom. 

He didn’t expect you to come running after him, almost slamming into him again in the process. 

“You shouldn’t run around school so much, you know. You could end up bumping into people and maybe even hurting them.” The words left Akashi’s lips sounding a lot more teasing and flirtatious than he intended.

You blushed and started rambling out apologies. ‘Cute’ Akashi thought. 

His brain froze. 

Wait. Cute? How-

“Anyway um.. you left your notebook back there…” you said, holding out what was indeed his notebook out towards him.

“Oh…” was all he could say. He rarely forgot his things, especially things as important as his notebook. It seems his mind must’ve been too distracted by... other things. “Thank you L/n-san.”

He saw a slight shock on your face. “You know my name?” 

His brain froze yet again. How was he supposed to answer this question without seeming like a stalker?

“Well yes…” he started before you cut him.

“Didn’t expect the Akashi Seijuurou to know my name.”

He scoffed at that. “I think I’d know the name of the girl who jumped down the stairs and knocked me to the ground.”

“Again, I’m really sorry about that…” you said with a smile, although Akashi could see the guilt that lingered behind your eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly said. “I was just…”

He was just what? Flirting? Was he actually flirting? Him. Akashi Seijuurou. Flirting??

“…you know,” he finished quietly.

You didn’t say anything in response but instead looked at him with a peculiar sort of gaze. 

“Um.. hate to make things awkward by asking this but… were you the one who sent me this?” You held up the envelope Akashi saw earlier.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Oh… okay then.” Was it just Akashi’s imagination or did he hear a sliver of disappointment in your tone? “I suppose you don’t know who it is either right?”

He shook his head.

A lot of thoughts rushed through his mind. Did you actually expect him to send you a love letter? Did you hope it was him? 

He sensed you were about to leave though, so before he could regret it, he asked you, “Why do you want to know who sent it anyway?”

Your eyes widened slightly at the question.

“I understand the curiosity and wanting to know who it is but… if they didn’t show up, why are you still waiting?” He clarified.

“Akashi-san, you’ve never confessed to someone have you?”

He gave a slight nod.

“Well, I don’t see why you’d need to,” you mumbled more to yourself than him. Clearing your throat, you continued, “The thing is, confessing takes a lot of courage. And writing this letter asking me to meet them here would’ve taken a whole lot of that courage already. I think that, if they were able to go that far, then I should at least hear them out right?”

That… surprised Akashi. 

“But then again, there’s always a possibility this is just a prank,” you added as an afterthought. 

Unsure of what to say, he just nodded. “It is possible, considering how long you had to wait.”

You smiled, “The wait was fine though. I had fun learning shogi.” 

You actually had fun learning how to play? Looking back, it did seem like you were enjoying yourself… 

It’s strange. Akashi realized just how much his view of you changed in one afternoon. Earlier, you were that bubbly, energetic girl bouncing through the halls. Now, you were this thoughtful and kind person who liked to learn. You also said you had fun playing shogi, which nearly made Akashi’s heart skip a beat.

Oh. 

Oh.

He gets it now. The reason his brain was acting all slow was you. With that thought, everything became clearer. 

Now he wishes that love letter really was a prank.

“Ah Akashi-san, I think I have to go home soon,” you said, holding up your phone. “You’re heading out too right? Wanna walk with me?”

He blinked in surprise but quickly agreed.

“Great, just let me get my things first-” And with that you rushed back into the club room.

Akashi stood staring at the empty hallway, still caught up in his thoughts and trying to process what just happened between you two just a few seconds ago.

When you came back out with your things, he couldn’t help but smile softly. The two of you fell into conversation easily, and by the time you walked out of the school gates, you were still in a talk that showed no signs of nearing an end.

He wanted to continue walking and talking like this, but there was a car and a driver waiting for him in the exact opposite direction of where you were headed.

“Well, goodbye then L/n-san,” he said, hoping the reluctance wasn’t obvious.

You smiled in response. “Goodbye Akashi-san. It was nice talking to you.”

With that the two of you went your separate ways. Throughout the car ride home, Akashi could think of nothing but you. It would seem… he has taken quite the liking to you.

He isn’t sure what’ll happen next, but he’s looking forward to seeing you again and hopefully, talking more with you too.

. . .

note .. THIS CAME OUT LONGER THAN ORIGINALLY INTENDED but anyway i actually enjoyed writing this,,, yk all the stuff potentially going thru akashi’s mind when he has a crush intrigues me and uhh i hope u guys liked this and if u do PLS LMK WHAT U THINK !! it would legit mean the world if u guys did <3

[pyroclastic727]

Is Amity autistic?

In the Owl House fandom, we hear a lot about how Luz is written to be ADHD. Now I would like to present the flipside: Amity is coded as autistic.

Here’s the breakdown.

Amity is touch-averse. “BuT aMiTy ToUcHeS LuZ aLL tHe TiMe” nice try. The key to autistic touch-aversion is only being okay with touch when she initiates it. And that totally matches up with Amity. See, Amity is really happy when she initiates touch with Luz. She’s also cool with it when Luz holds her hand after standing near her for enough time that Amity can predict an incoming touch. That’s because Amity consents to that touch and expects it.

But when other people touch her? She doesn’t take kindly to that. When Luz initially bumped into her at Covention, she snapped at her and degraded her. Even when she bumped into Luz in Enchanting Grom Fright, her initial instinct was to snap at Luz, since she didn’t expect to be touched. When Hooty touched Amity’s face without consent, she flipped out and beat him up. Not even Lilith beat Hooty up when he wrapped her up in his mucus-filled tube, but Amity gave Hooty the injuries we all wanted to see him with, because he breached her boundaries without her consent. Even as late as the last episode, Amity fell over when her face got close to Luz’s on the bleachers, because she didn’t expect it.

Amity stims. Okay, this one took me a while to catch, since most of the time, Amity is very controlled with her actions. This symptom isn’t very intense; her senses aren’t understimulated too often, and she really only does it when she’s really excited.

Mainly, when Luz offered to carry her. While she adorably scrambled for words, she also flapped her hands against her legs. At first I thought it was just a cute thing she did, but there’s more to it. She was so excited to be held by Luz that it showed up in her hands flapping...a common stim. With Amity feeling more comfortable around her new friends than the old ones, I wouldn’t be surprised to see more stimming in the future.

Amity always has The Mask as her expression. You know, the one with her eyes half-lidded, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly downturned. I also call it the Resting Blight Face, for...reasons.

At first I thought it was just a way to hide her true emotions, since her parents are assholes. But even though Luz makes her feel accepted, she keeps doing it. It’s more like...you know that feeling when you’re thinking really hard, or uncomfortable, or ashamed, or even just relaxed, and you can’t think of which expression to wear quickly enough, so you put on an unreadable one to tide people over? Apparently most people don’t do that, since allistic people tend to have expressions for those feelings, ones that arise naturally.

Another symptom of autism is having hard-to-read expressions, or being less expressive. In Amity’s case, it’s the fact that she doesn’t see a need to have an expression in calmer moments, so she just uses her usual expression.   

Amity hyperfixates. This has several facets, so I’ll break this down.

She initially hyperfixated on school. And that’s how she became top student. Amity Blight is who you would mistake for a “gifted student.” But make no mistake...she is not gifted, and gifted is a bullshit label used to overexert people and force them to keep school as their special interest for their entire lives (and I may have a bit of a vendetta against it). Anyways, we already know she’s a perfectionist. My theory is that Amity originally was hyperfocused on school--the Abominations track, to be exact--and that’s part of how she got so good. Then, her focus shifted, but the school expected her to keep being top student. Cue the perfectionism; she was no longer able to focus on school like she wanted to, but everyone expected her to, so she got insecure about it.

She hyperfixates on Azura, just like Luz did. Yeah, she keeps it secret from the world, for most of the time. But she definitely likes Azura a lot. I mean, she started to reconsider her opinion on Luz when Luz offered her an Azura book. She destroyed her jock career because she tried to use an Azura move in real-life Grudgby. Her interest in Azura is long-lived, starting about the time that her interest in school would have expired (which would explain why she stayed closeted). And we can’t ignore the fact that she sees Azura in Luz and is definitely enjoying the parallels between herself and her fictional counterpart. (Which might not be a coincidence, but that’s an entirely different theory).

She hyperfixates on Luz. Yes, part of this is a crush. But a lot of us have watched Amity’s personality go from alpha bitch to cutest little bean in the Boiling Isles, all thanks to Luz’s influence. Lumity is not a rivals-to-lovers speedrun due to bad writing, it’s due to Amity hyperfixating. She’s already extremely introspective, going so far as to keep a diary where she analyzes and makes sense of herself. It’s not a stretch to say that she identified the faults that kept her from Luz and worked hard to change those off-screen. 

Amity keeps a journal. To me, this seems like masking. You see, Amity is what people would consider to be high-functioning, since she can pass for allistic. But in order to do this, she has to put in significant effort on her part. See, when she does something that makes it so she doesn’t pass, she just sees it as a problem (since she probably doesn’t know about autism, and she passes well enough that she would totally be undiagnosed). Then she tries to fix the problem, in order to keep being perfect. 

Amity has awkward body language. Thanks to the journal and other ways of masking, you don’t see this early on. But once she feels comfortable enough around Luz to let her guard down...she completely forgets boundaries. To review: in episodes 15-17, she throws herself at Luz, holds her formal rival’s hand for 24.71 seconds, blushes every time she sees Luz, and loudly declares her thirsty thoughts about Luz in uniform before literally running away. While some of this can be seen as normal gal pal things or crush things...you’d think a repressed wlw like Amity would try very hard not to touch Luz, so as to avoid being outed. Or at least she would do less of that stuff, so as to respect Luz’s boundaries the way she wants her boundaries to be respected. But that’s not the case, since she straight-up misses a lot of social cues. And since she feels comfortable around Luz, she doesn’t feel the pressure to be so paranoid about the cues, and can be her awkward self. From her point of view, she probably sees it as being freed from her parents’ judgment.

Amity takes things literally, sometimes. Now, this doesn’t happen all the time, since she isn’t heavily affected by this autistic trait. But when Luz says “I’m picking up what you’re putting down” and Amity says “I’m not putting down anything” and looks down...she not only missed the conclusion Luz drew from her words, but also assumed a literal meaning from her words. I can’t come up with many other instances of this, mostly because this doesn’t happen often. I would assume that Amity missed these a lot early on, and learned how to mask/identify them.

Amity is easily upset when things don’t go as planned. Let’s review these. In the library, she gets really mad at Luz when they end up stitched to a book, and it takes Luz’s sweet personality to get Amity to loosen up and laugh over it. When she goes to practice magic, and Luz steals her wand and uses it to get her siblings kidnapped, Amity locks Luz in a cage and assumes that she will get badly injured if she tries to fix the problems she caused. When Luz comes to her school, she panics and focus on how that doesn’t change anything. When she burns Willow’s mind, she appears absolutely terrified of being punished, flinching and bracing for impact when Luz finds her near the memories, constantly trying to distract Luz as they work together to save Willow, and hiding behind Luz when she confronts the Inner Willow. When Luz asks her to join her in Grudgby, Amity doesn’t initially agree, instead taking much more of the episode to come to terms with her involvement in it.

Amity likes predictability. She’s not attached to routines, but she does like being able to expect things. If she makes a plan for the day, she expects that day to adhere to that plan, and she doesn’t respond well when it changes. When Luz comes to her school, she focus on how that doesn’t change anything...not how that would ruin things or complicate things. Whenever she gets involved in Luz’s shenanigans, she either gets angry, scared, or takes a while to accept it. In a broader sense, she takes a while to accept that Luz and her shenanigans are a permanent fixture in her life--sixteen episodes, to be exact.

Finally, it would make for some excellent representation. An ADHD Dominican-American bisexual protagonist is pretty groundbreaking. But an ADHD Dominican-American bisexual protagonist girl who dates an autistic wlw witch girl from another dimension is exactly the kind of intersectional representation you’d expect to see from an unrestricted Owl House crew.

...Now, this might just be me hardcore projecting. I’m a little scared to post this because I don’t know how much of this is me reading into imaginary things, or trying to convince myself that Amity is like me. Feel free to debate/disprove me or support me in the comments. 

[eloves-writes]

a failed attempt to hate you

(tristan dugray)

a/n: i can only apologise if this writing is terrible, i wrote most of this in the middle of the night hopped up on medication for my disgusting cold. i hope it makes sense. anywho thanks for reading, enjoy, mwah <3

screw mr medina for making you help tristan study. you knew he knew from rory your inherent disdain for him, and it wasn’t your fault he was falling behind therefore not your responsibility to help him (as you had told mr medina last tuesday, with no effect). it was now sunday morning and you held little hope he would actually show up this time; he had somehow managed to cancel on your little study date 6 times already and it had only been 5 days since you were handed this apparently mammoth task. honestly, you didn’t expect him to show up at all, especially not anytime before noon- for which reasons you had made the decision put on your usual lazy sunday morning reading in bed get-up, which included (but was not limited to) an oversized rock concert shirt rory’s friend lane had given you in an attempt to clear her closet of non-christian attire, nothing but underwear underneath since you wouldn’t plan on leaving the comfort of your bedsheets for many hours, and a loose silk scrunchie you accidentally stole from rory keeping your hair out of your eyes. 

your book of choice today was ‘harry potter and the goblet of fire’ , the most recently released chapter of the boy wizard’s adventures at hogwarts. the clock beside you read 9:15 as you comfied yourself for a morning of magic and adventure, which naturally was ended a mere 8 minutes later at 9:23 when the doorbell rang downstairs. you assumed your mother would answer it, but when it rang a second time you remembered your parents had both gone out to watch your sibling’s soccer match and you’d have to get it yourself.

it didn’t even cross your mind to put pants on, or that it may not be the postman at the door, until you opened it to see your very favourite chilton student whose eyes had hastily wandered to your bare legs. typical high school boy, you thought to yourself before your brain actually grasped the situation and kick started into action.

‘tristan. hi.’ you said with a slight shock in your voice.

‘erm, hi. i hope i’m not interrupting anything,’ he smirked, glancing down at your thighs again.

you rolled your eyes so aggressively you hoped mr medina could hear it from wherever he was spending his day, irritating boy-less and free to do whatever he wanted with his time.

‘you’re not,’ you quipped. ‘i just didn’t expect you to actually show up this time. and early may i add, i’m sure we said 11.’

‘we did, but i’ve got plans later so i thought i’d come by earlier and get this over with.’

‘how did you know i didn’t have plans? i might have been busy before 11.’

he pulled a face of amusement and you could swear you saw a hint of sarcasm shining through his eyes too. ‘right. are you done talking now or can i come in?’

‘you can come in, i guess,’ you sighed, closing the door behind him and showing him to the kitchen table. ‘wait here, i’ll go and get my books.’

‘grab some pants whilst you’re at it.’

‘stop talking,’ you called as you walked upstairs.

you came back downstairs a few minutes later fully-clothed and carrying your english notes to see that tristan had wandered from the chair you specifically remembered telling him to sit in, and was instead tracing a finger along the bookcase that stretched across the far wall of your living room. for a moment you just watched him nosey into your life; the framed certificates, the family photos, the 5 tapes of ‘beauty and the beast’ stacked atop of each other because it was your favourite film when you were 9 and practically every living relative had bought you a copy. beside those was a picture of you dressed as princess belle at disneyworld with chocolate ice cream smeared from cheek to cheek, a huge smile plastered between. tristan picked it up and turned to face you.

‘thoroughly adorable. seriously, you should go for this look more often.’

‘ha ha,’ you grimaced, snatching it off him and placing it back on the shelf. ‘are we studying or reminiscing on my past fashion choices?’ 

‘oo, someone’s in a good mood this morning huh,’ he teased. you pulled another face, once again silently cursing mr medina for completely ruining not just your day, but in fact your whole week. by god this boy got more irritating the more time you spent with him- it had only been 10 minutes, but it was 10 minutes longer than you ever previously had or ever wanted to.

 ‘can i get a drink before we start?’ he asked, redirecting the conversation and walking past you back into the kitchen. he began opening various cupboards, searching for a glass. ‘where’s the-’

‘why yes, tristan. you can have a drink,’ you snarked, opening the cupboard behind him with a dramatic flourish. he raised his eyebrows at you and reached forward to grab a glass, leaning over you as he did so. you caught a whiff of his cologne and almost forgot to dislike him for a moment.

‘there’s, um, soda in the ... fridge,’ you told him, voice unwillingly faltering as he looked down to meet your eyes. he had pretty eyes. pretty, blue, sparkling, stupid, annoying, asshole eyes. 

you found the thick tension sickening. you refused to be another girl at school who simply swooned over him when he walked past your locker. you didn't like him. you were here to teach him english. because he was dumb. and actually, his eyes weren’t that nice.

he grabbed a soda out of the fridge and you both sat down at the table and began reading through your analysis of ‘to kill a mockingbird’, adamantly pretending not to see him staring at you the whole time. 

why? he had had every popular and pretty girl in the whole of chilton, how was he ever so starved of female attention that he would look at you so admirably when you liked to make it clear you despised him? in fact, you enjoyed making a special effort to flip him off, or pull a face at him when he walked by, or kick his chair extra hard in spanish, or... oh shit. you had seen it from an outside point of view now, and it was glaringly obvious; maybe you did like him, just a little bit. shit. rory owed lorelai 10$ and a cheeseburger from luke’s, though you didn’t want to have to admit she was right when she’d said you were like a kindergarten boy pulling a girl’s ponytails because he thought she was pretty.

‘hey tristan,’ you started, breaking the comfortable silence between his questions and suddenly nervous to talk to him. stupid, it was still the exact same boy you’d been complaining about all week, nothing new. 

he looked up from your notes. ‘what’s up princess?’ 

that was definitely new.

‘don’t call me princess’ -he smirked irritatingly- ‘do you need to stay much longer? i mean, is there anything else you want help with?’

‘trying to get rid of me?’

‘no! no. i just thought that you’d only stay and pretend to listen to me for like, half an hour then vanish. it’s 11:30 and you’ve been through my whole binder.’

‘it is? time flies.’

‘tristan.’

‘i do care about my grades, you know. and you’re a good teacher, i might have a chance at an A.’

‘why didn't you show up the last 6 times we planned then?’

he put down his pen- your pen, actually. it had pink sparkles on the lid. ‘got to keep up my street cred.’

‘ha ha. funny,’ you replied as blankly as possible, pulling back a smile you could feel in your stomach. you made eye contact again and, like every other time since you’d sat down and started studying, you held each other’s gaze for longer than necessary. funny how realising you like someone makes you suddenly act like it.

‘i should get going then right,’ he said, picking his jacket from the back of his chair.

you felt weird, almost as if you didn't want him to leave after praying earlier he wouldn't show up. alas, your parents would be home soon and you would be willing to bet money that tristan would have some interesting jokes about your being home alone that would not slide with your dad.

‘yeah. i hope you get that A,’ you said, accidentally smiling as you walked him to the door.

tristan turned to lean on the frame of the now-open door and put on a face of mock surprise. ‘my, my, y/n. was that a kind comment and a smile? you’re spoiling me.’

‘shut up, i hope you fail.’

he smiled back. ‘you really mean that?’

‘i guess not.’

there was yet another beat of heavy silence.

‘see you monday.’

‘see you monday.’

you closed the front door as he walked down the drive, but noticed tristan’s car keys still sat on the kitchen table. a porsche, of course. you picked them up and reopened the door to his fist poised to knock. the two of you laughed awkwardly for a second.

‘i forgot my-’

‘you forgot your-’

another awkward laugh. jesus christ this was uncomfortable. you passed him the keys, and with absolutely no warning at all, your lips were suddenly met with his. they were soft and confident, and his free hand held your face as you tried to process the new situation. you quickly melted into the kiss, letting him take control until he pulled away and smiled that sparkly smile you didn't hate as much as you tried to.

‘didn't see that one coming,’ you said breathily, brushing some loose hairs off of your face.

‘i knew you didn’t hate me.’

‘ever the arrogant twat.’

‘hey, does this mean you’ll stop kicking my chair in spanish?’

‘absolutely not. in fact, i think i’ll kick it harder.’

‘as long as you let me do that again.’

tags: @leossmoonn for inspiring me to start writing again, @account123445 & @lmaoidekanymore6 for asking me to post tristan fics! (couldn’t figure out how to make the tags work but if you read this, you know ✨)

[mackjlee9]

Aizawa Shouta x Student!Male!Reader [Smut]

(I'm sorry, this was kinda rushed)

(just because i'm not comfortable about this type of relationship, (m/n) would be a third year, meaning he'll be 18.)

 Warning; bondage, blindfold, blowjob, overstimulation, riding, powerbottom aizawa.

Masterlist

Boku no Hero Academia

Requested by LilyangryPomeranian on Wattpad

  This is wrong.

I shouldn't be doing this...

And yet, here I am. Having sex with a teacher.

Aizawa Shota was the first year's teacher at U.A. High School, while I was a third year. This relationship was morally wrong, but I'm not a minor anymore, and that's mainly my reason to be doing this right now.

At the moment, Shota's class was having their hero training, meaning All Might was teaching them and that left him some free time on his own in the teacher's lounge. And I was here with him, thanks to him calling out for me when he walked to my classroom.

This wasn't supposed to happen, we settled on doing this outside of the school building, but apparently, Shota couldn't wait longer. Because the instant I walked into the teacher's lounge behind him, he turned around and pinned me against the wall, closing the door and locking it.

"Sho-Shota... wait-!" I pressed my hands on his shoulders, trying to push him back, but he used his scarf to tie my hands above my head, getting closer to my neck and biting my skin.

"I can't wait, (M/n). I want you." He reached a hand down to undo my pants, sliding his hand inside my underwear and holding my dick, rubbing all my sensitive spots to get me hard. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, turning my head away to try and conceal my noises, but it was almost useless. He held me by my tie and dragged me to one of the chairs, making me sit on it and tying me to it with his scarf.

But even if what we were doing was wrong, I couldn't stop him, I didn't want to, so I just sat there, looking at him as he enjoyed the pathetic state I was in.

I was tied to a chair, blushing like crazy, holding in my moans while my erection was on full display in front of him, and he enjoyed every second of it. He held my tie and pulled it off my neck, using it to blindfold me.

Now, I couldn't see anything, but my senses were heightened by this, I could hear Shota taking off his hero costume and I felt his hands on my thighs, spreading them apart and kneeling between them. He held my erection and started moving his hand up and down, stroking it agonizingly slowly.

I tilted my head down while biting my lip, trying to hold in my moans and gasps, struggling against the restraining scarf holding me still.

"S-Shota, wa-wait... ngh~." I squirmed around on the chair when I felt like I was about to cum just from the touch of his hand.

"I'm not going to stop, (M/n). I wanna see you lose your mind..." his fingers pressed on my tip, squeezing it slightly, a loud gasp left my mouth when he took me into his mouth, swallowing my cock greedily down his throat. I groaned and bit my lip when he got my entire length into his mouth, and my body convulsed on the chair as I  came in his throat. He pulled away and I heard him swallowing my cum, "Oh~, don't even think for a second... that we're done here."

I felt a sudden weight sitting on my lap, Shota's hips grinding on mine, his erection rubbing against my dick, getting it hard again. My breathing was uneven and it was getting hard to hold in my moans, especially when his soft, breathy moans were right next to my ear.

"My fingers aren't... long enough, but... this should do the trick." With his words, I knew that he was stretching himself, his free hand holding our erections together, grinding his hips back and forth.

"Sho... Shota..." his hands were placed on my shoulders and my dick was poking his entrance. God, if I wasn't blindfolded I wouldn't be so sensitive, and I wanna touch him too...

"Now, you better be quiet, we don't want to get caught, do we?" I shook my head no, still biting my lip hard, rapid breaths getting out through my nose. "Good boy..."

Shota's hand reached up and gripped my hair, pulling my head back, our breaths mixed together and his tongue licked my lips, I let go of my bottom lip and he kissed me, his tongue pushed through my parted lips, playing with mine. His hips lowered slowly, my dick spreading open his insides.

So tight... fuck, I'm gonna cum... again.

Shota broke our kiss and chuckled softly, "Well, aren't you young, eh? So much energy left..." I could sense the smirk on his face, especially when he started to bounce up and down on my cock, getting it all in. "You came twice already, and it's still standing proudly." He joined our lips again, bouncing quicker, my dick reaching deeper every time he came down.

"Fu-fuck... Shota, stop, I'm... too sensi... tive-aAh!" He stopped completely, sitting on my lap like it was nothing and it was making me let out whimpers, as my dick twitched inside him, his walls squeezing around me, my warm cum still in, making it all slippery. Fuck, I need more. "Mo-move, please... ke-keep moving, Shota..."

"Now that's more like it," he kissed me again, it was a messy kiss, mostly because it couldn't focus on anything else besides the tight and hot feeling around my cock.

Fuck, this feels so good.

I broke our kiss gasping for air, and I tilted my head down, my forehead pressing on his shoulder, and I looked up slightly, only enough to bite at his pale skin.

"(M/n)! What-?!" I began leaving kisses and bites all over his neck going up to his ear, and holding his lobe in between my lips.

"I wanna cum, Shota... I need to cum inside you over and over again," nuzzling on him, I managed to push down my blindfold, finally making eye contact with him, my vision my blurry because of all the tears I didn't realize were there. "You feel so fucking good... I can't handle it..." I leaned closer and held his bottom lip with my teeth, pulling it softly, and making him moan. "Please, fuck me however you want."

Shota gripped my hair tightly, pulling it and making my head tilt back as our tongues tangled in a desperate kiss. His bouncing became quick and rough, his wall squeezing me tight, making me moan in his mouth.

His breathless moans reached my ears and that was all I needed to cum inside him again, but he didn't stop there, he kept riding me, changing the angle of his hips until our kiss broke due to his loud moan. His back arched as his body trembled on top of mine, his cum squirting out and landing on both of us.

He rested his body on mine, trying to even his breathing and I snuggled into his hair.

Well, we stayed there a couple of minutes, until he finally released me from the hold of his scarf, I held him gently and helped him clean up, I left him laying on his sleeping bag and cleaned myself up the best I could, then the bell rang. I sighed and walked towards Shota, leaning down to kiss his forehead before leaving the teacher's lounge.

"I love you, Shota." I turned around to leave while I fixed my tie properly and I heard his scratchy voice behind me.

"I love you too, brat." I chuckled and left the room, going back to class. 

[youryanderedaddy]

Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

-------------------------------------------------------

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

[nanatsumu]

TEENAGE FEVER.

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x f!reader, oikawa tooru x f!reader

synopsis: iwaizumi has strung you on long enough and you’re finally at the end of your rope.

genre: heavy angst... like make your heart wrench in pain heavy, one sided pining

warnings: manga spoilers, bad grammar (didn’t know it was that bad until i used grammarly), MATURE themes, drinking, smoking, alcohol, iwaizumi being an asshole (he’s also a frat boy because surprise! frat boys should never be trusted), subtle hints at sex, bittersweet ending

word count: 5.9K

series masterlist

part one | part two | part three | part four

it was evident in the way you weren’t sure how to sway your hips to the beat of the music and the way you awkwardly isolated yourself in a quiet corner of the house, sipping on some soda (since you did not want your first frat party experience to end up with you wasted and throwing up on some stranger) that you were definitely not accustomed to the party life.

“are you sure you’ll be fine by yourself y/n?” your roommate asked you with a concerned look on her face.

“i’ll be fine reina,” you give her a tight-lipped smile as you gesture to the phone in your hand. “i’ll just sit here and chill on my phone until you get back.”

“okay okay, i’ll quit babying you now,” she throws her hands up in the air. “call me if some dude tries to hit on you though.”

“will do, but i doubt with how loud the music is that you’ll even answer,” you playfully roll your eyes as she erupts in a fit of laughter.

the brunette pats the back pocket of her jeans where her phone currently resides at.

“even if i don’t hear it, i’ll feel it.”

it becomes quiet momentarily (besides what you assume is i love it by dean blaring in the background) until she starts to looks around warily before leaning in and whispering something into your ear.

“if a hajime iwaizumi tries to talk to you, try to find a way to get out of the conversation,” she pauses for a moment before continuing. “that guy is seriously bad news.”

“y-yeah, i’ll... do that.” you hear her let out a sigh of relief as she straightens up her posture.

it’s hard to hear what she’s saying from there on out, especially with how obnoxiously loud the music has gotten, but you manage to catch the words ‘friends’ and ‘beer pong’ before she slips away amongst the sea of students and you’re left sitting alone on a couch by yourself with only your phone as entertainment.

you had recently moved to california from japan on an academic scholarship for uci, so when you heard reina mention the name ‘iwaizumi hajime’ it sparked a sense of familiarity within you and piqued your curiosity as to if he was also a foreigner studying abroad.

you’ve only been living in the states for a month now which meant you were still getting used to the strange lifestyle here, so the thought of being friends with someone you could potentially relate to had always been swimming in the back of your mind.

“so what’s a pretty girl like you doing here all by yourself?”

a voice snaps you out of your thoughts as you let out a small shriek and the next thing you know, your phone flies out of your hand, hitting the person that just sat down next to you.

“ow!” he cries as he clutches his forehead in pain.

“shit! i’m sorry dude!” at this point you’re scrambling around, not sure where to put your hands as you wave them around haphazardly.

“you know, it’s not nice to throw your phone at someone who's trying to make conversation with you right?” the stranger says in a whiny tone as he switches over to rubbing the red spot forming on his forehead in an attempt to soothe the pain.

“and you know it’s not nice to sneak up on a girl if she’s alone right?” you scoff. “where the hell did you even come from?”

“my mom’s vagina.”

“i didn’t mean literally!” you growl.

he shrugs before making himself comfortable by resting his arms on top of the couch and spreads his long legs.

“y’know, i don’t appreciate you manspreading and i especially don’t appreciate the fact that you’re confident enough to do so when i have no idea who you are.” you grimace.

“the name is oikawa tooru, introduction over,” he gives you a lopsided grin. “but you can call me tooru if you’d like, apparently everyone calls each other by their first names here in the states.”

“japanese?”

“yeah, but i’m not a student here,” he places two fingers on your cheek and gently pushes your head in the direction of the kitchen where you see some people conversing with each other. “you see the guy in the denim jacket with the piercings?”

your eyes wander around until you spot a boy sporting a denim jacket with piercings, just as oikawa described, but you also take note of how oikawa failed to mention that his friend was absolutely breathtaking: he didn’t have a chiseled face but he did have a nice jawline, his hair was spiky but it was styled properly, but what stood out to you the most was the small patch of permanent ink on his wrist.

and it’s as if the heavens were on your side tonight because just as you were thinking about whether or not the tattoo on his wrist branched into something bigger and more complex, he slips off his denim jacket and the sleeveless t-shirt he had on underneath allowed you to see that his entire arm was covered in numerous quantities of tattoos varying in design and color that blended together seamlessly.

“he’s the one that snuck me in,” he leans in closer to your ear and you can practically feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear which makes you shiver. “it’s funny how much college can change a guy, huh?”

he continues.

“his demeanor back in high school wasn’t too different from how it is now, but it like... intensified after he moved here,” oikawa throws his body back and you’re relieved that he finally put some distance between you two because you weren’t sure how much longer you could take him being so close to you. “dumbass probably got caught up in the wrong crowd.”

“and what are you doing here?” you direct your attention back onto the chocolate-haired boy.

“me? i play for a volleyball team in argentina but i’m just visiting iwaizumi.”

your jaw drops and it’s not at the fact that he plays for argentina, but at the way he says it so indifferently like it’s not a big deal at all.

“wait, what the hell!?” you shake your head and take a moment to recollect your thoughts. “i thought you were a student at another school but you’re telling me you don’t even go to school at all?”

“yup!” he grins. “the season just ended and with the free time i have now i just decided to fly here and visit iwaizumi for a bit, y’know, see how well he's adjusting to the university life.”

“and you should’ve seen the look on my face when i saw him for the first time in 4 years and all of a sudden he has an arm full of tattoos and a shit load of piercings.”

“wait, did you just say iwaizumi?”

“hm? yeah, iwaizumi hajime? you know him? i heard he’s pretty popular around here, but i’m pretty sure it’s for all the wrong reasons though.”

“my friend told me he was bad news...” you say sheepishly.

it’s silent for a moment and you’re worried you might have said something wrong or offended your new friend (could you two even be considered friends? i mean he did pop out of nowhere and started talking to you) but your worries are all washed away when you hear a laugh escape his lips.

“i wouldn’t say he’s bad news, just rough around the edges and has a bad habit of hooking up with girls.”

“you know i don’t appreciate you bad mouthing me behind my back shittykawa.”

a deep voice startles both you and oikawa, and when you turn around to see who the owner of the voice was, your mouth grows dry when you realize it’s the iwaizumi hajime standing right behind you.

“iwaizumi!” oikawa stands up and walks over to the spiky-haired male standing behind the couch before slinging an arm around his shoulder. “i was just making small talk with...”

“y/n. l/n y/n.”

“y/n! a pretty name for a pretty girl,” oikawa winks at you and you roll your eyes at his shamelessness. “anyways i’m gonna and grab a drink.”

oikawa pats iwaizumi on the back before sauntering away, leaving you and iwaizumi to be alone together.

“so, y/n?” his gaze is intense and you can’t help but shift around uncomfortably in your seat at the way he’s borderline checking you out. “you’re not from around here are you?”

“uh yeah,” you scratch the back of your head. “i’m from japan but i recently moved here for university.”

“is that so?” you flinch subtly when iwaizumi plops down next to you but it doesn’t go unnoticed by the male. “relax y/n, i don’t bite.”

his voice is velvety with the right amount of gruffness to it, contrary to his friend, oikawa, whose voice is a bit higher and on the whinier side.

“so... what are you majoring in, iwaizumi?” you ask, attempting to make some sort of small talk with him.

“i’m majoring in sports science, what about you?”

“education,” you answer, suddenly feeling a bit less tense than you were earlier. “i wanna become a teacher, but probably just for primary school, middle schoolers and high schoolers scare me.”

iwaizumi laughs.

“and primary schoolers don’t? i have a little sister and she’s literally the devil incarnate.”

you giggle and you think about how easy it is to converse with iwaizumi, but the warning reina gave you earlier still lingers in the back of your head and so you’re careful not to let your guard down too much.

“so how are you liking california so far? it’s different from japan isn’t it?” he asks.

“well, it’s... different i’ll give you that,” you start playing with your bottom lip subconsciously as it’s a habit that you picked up back in high school. “but my roommate is nice at least and that’s the only that matters to me.”

“i’m also planning on moving back to japan in the future but it’ll only be after i finish university and get my bachelor's degree or something,” you continue.

“taking an internship doesn’t seem too bad either? it’s still a while before i graduate so i wanna try and enjoy my university life before i get into thrown into the real world because i don’t wanna be old and wrinkly and live with regrets— i’m rambling now aren’t i?”

“you’re alright,” iwaizumi smiles. “it’s honestly like a breath of fresh air hearing how you have your life planned out, or at least you have a plan on what you want to do with your life because most of the girls i’ve met or i’m friends with are either undecided or are all about ‘living in the moment’ and while being undecided or having that type of mindset isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it just gets repetitive sometimes being surrounded by the same type of people.”

“but you— you’re different from them, i like that.”

you can feel your cheeks starts to heat up and iwaizumi is amused by how you can get so flustered over such a simple compliment.

“thanks... i guess?” you compose yourself and try to cool yourself down by putting your hands on your cheeks.

“so what are you doing here at this party? you don’t strike me as a party animal.”

“because i’m not,” you chuckle. “my roommate dragged me here and i only said yes because i was told it was only gonna be a small get-together, though she didn’t mention anything about the booming music and the alcohol.”

“you a lightweight or something?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“i’m 19, actually, so still not legally allowed to drink,” you state as a matter-of-fact.

“so? i was 19 when i drank for the first time,” he says and you’re alarmed at how he can say it so casually.

“ha, no thanks, i’d rather not accidentally get wasted and throw up on someone later tonight.”

“well, i’ll make sure that you don’t throw up on anybody then,” he stands up and extends his hand out for you to take. “why don’t you come along with me and i’ll fix you up a drink?”

you look at his hand with a wary look in your eyes as reina’s words start to play in your head like a broken record.

‘that guy is seriously bad news.’

“so what do you say, y/n?”

you stare into his brown eyes and it’s almost as if he injected curiosity straight into your veins because the next thing you know, you’re sitting on the counter with iwaizumi standing in between your legs as he’s pouring a bottle of bailey’s irish creme into a tumbler glass for you.

“this is probably the best option for you besides white claw but i’m sure as hell not gonna have you drink that shit especially when it’s your first time,” he sets the almost empty bottle on the counter behind him before handing you the glass, which you reluctantly take. “and i’m not gonna be an asshole and give you spirytus.”

you inspect the liquid by bringing the glass up closer to your eyes and whirling it around a few times in a way that is similar to that of a kid inspecting their halloween candy for poison or blades and it elicits a snicker out of iwaizumi.

“i don’t know... i told my mom i’d move to california to study and be a teacher, not go to parties and practice underage drinking.” you deadpan which only further humors the male in front of you.

“and i told my mom i’d move to california to study sports science, not pierce my ears and get my entire arm tattooed,” he says and you assume that this is his way of trying to coax you into drinking the glass of whiskey in your hands. “i’m sure a little bit of alcohol won’t hurt and i promise you’re not gonna get wasted, take a lick for all i care.”

“fine, but if i accidentally puke all over someone’s shoes then i’m counting on you to pay for dry cleaning.” you say before bringing the glass up to your lips and taking a tiny sip— and to your surprise, it wasn’t that bad.

the taste of whiskey wasn’t overbearing as the taste of cocoa and vanilla overpowered it, but you weren’t complaining as it made it easier for the drink to slide down your throat without you feeling the need to scrunch up your face in distaste.

“not bad right?” iwaizumi smirks and it immediately triggers your fight or flight.

“i haven’t even said anything yet.” you roll your eyes.

“well? what do you think then?”

his hand brushes up against your thigh as he goes to settle them on either side of you, effectively trapping you on top of the counter.

“i-it’s not bad i guess...” your words trail off at the end as you allow your eyes to wander away elsewhere in an attempt to distract yourself from how intimate this position feels.

“y/n,” you turn your attention back towards iwaizumi and your eyes widen at the close proximity between you two. “do you use any lip products?”

“just lip... gloss...” your breath hitches when you notice that he‘s starting to lean in closer as his eyes travel down to your parted lips.

but before he gets a chance to put his hands on you, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket as realization also seems to hit iwaizumi at the same time and he immediately jerks away.

“uh, i think my roommates calling me,” you jump off the counter and dig into the pockets of your shorts so that you can retrieve your buzzing phone. “i’ll see you around campus?”

“yeah, see you around.”

he watches as you head for the exit and once you’re out of sight, he leans against the counter you were just sitting on a minute ago and lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“that was so lame of you iwa-chan.”

he turns his head towards the direction of where the voice came from and sees oikawa striding into the kitchen.

“you totally got her wrapped around your finger, don’t you?” oikawa states as iwaizumi chuckles.

“fuck yeah i do,” he brings his hand up for a handshake. “i can’t believe she fell for my ‘you’re different from other girls’ speech.”

“and i usually never go for freshmen since they’re always so damn annoying but y/n... she’s gonna be a fun one to play with.” he adds.

“you’re a real douchebag.” oikawa says as he downs the rest of whatever is in his cup before discarding it into the nearest trash can.

“hey, if i’m gonna move back to japan soon then might as well make the most of the time i have left here, right?” iwaizumi defends himself.

“spoken like a true jackass.” the chocolate-haired male snorts.

“whatever,” iwaizumi rolls his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair. “i’m leaving in less than a month and a half so i’ll hit it and quit it.”

“that phrase is so corny, why not ‘bust a load and hit the road’?” oikawa suggests.

“i am not having this conversation with you right now.” iwaizumi irks before walking out of the kitchen with a mopey oikawa hot on his trail.

“so rude!”

it’s been almost a week now since your encounter with iwaizumi and you have yet to see him around campus. well, it was inevitable as he was all the way on the other side of the school, but deep down you wished you could at least run into him during the course of your week.

you briefly remember reina giving you an earful once you got back to the dorms because you had explained to her the minute you two got back that you met iwaizumi hajime at the party and even met one of his friends.

“y/n, didn’t i tell you that you should stay away from that guy?”

“but he seemed like a really nice guy to me...” you started fiddling with your fingers.

“that’s what he wants you to think, y/n,” she takes a seat next to you on your bed and wraps an arm around your shoulder, patting it soothingly. “i just— you’re new here and from the moment you stepped foot in our dorm i knew immediately that you’re gonna live a successful life and the last thing i want happening is for some college playboy to break your heart and ruin your life.”

your heart couldn’t help but grow fuzzy at her words.

“trust me, if this were any other guy then i wouldn’t mind you talking to them, but hajime is notorious for breaking hearts and ruining lives,” she puts her arms behind her back and uses them to support her body as she leans back. “there was this girl back in my freshman year, half japanese half white, her name was kaori, and i’ve never cared to keep track of any of hajime’s flings but she was the most serious case.”

“hajime and her met the same way you and him did, at a party, and he chatted her up until she eventually gave into those pretty boy charms of his and they started going out. the first few weeks were fine and the entire campus was raving about how this was one of hajime’s longest standing relationships yet and they seemed to be at a good spot in their relationship. but it wasn’t until one day, photos of her nudes were plastered all over the entire school and someone in hajime’s friend group ratted him out and said that he was the one who started sending the photos. obviously the school found out but they couldn’t get enough evidence that hajime was the one who sent her nudes around but since they had to do something, they decided to suspend kaori instead for ‘distribution of explicit content’ and the whole school started flooding her dms with death throats and she was labeled ‘the whore of uci.’ i think she eventually got tired of everything because she disappeared from the school without a trace, like completely disappeared. all her socials were deleted and she deleted her number so no one could contact her at all.”

after reina finished the entire story, you were remembered speechless. sure iwaizumi was a bit on the flirtier side and didn’t hesitate to test the waters, but that didn’t mean that he was completely shameless and disrespected your boundaries. you had a gut feeling that underneath that tough facade of his was a boy who was a normal college student like everybody else and had a goal in mind that he wanted to achieve, but after hearing reina’s story you weren’t sure what to think anymore.

“that poor little thing, she was such a sweet girl and it’s such a shame that she just had to go and get involved with hajime. if she still went here then i’m sure you and her would’ve gotten along,” reina adds. “she kind of reminds me of you in a way, you have this innocence to you that can’t be replicated yet you actually have a spine unlike those girls that throw themselves at hajime. tsk, how shameless of them, throwing yourself at a boy who’s known for tossing girls to the side once he’s down with them.”

needless to say, after that long conversation you had with reina, you’ve started to become more wary of the boy, but an unknown force keeps pulling you back to him.

reina had invited you to another party this weekend and while you were a bit reluctant about accepting her invitation, you thought that this might be your chance at ever seeing iwaizumi again so with your one track mind, you accept her offer without a second thought which now leads you to present time.

you feel a wave of deja vu wash over you as sweater weather blasts from the speakers and you can feel the heavy bass shake up the entire house.

you and reina struggle to nagivate through the crowd all while trying to avoid the couples making out in order to get upstairs where her friends had texted her to meet and you’re glad you’ve gained enough confidence to give her the green light when she asked if you wanted to meet her friends because you’re not sure how much more your eardrums could take.

“it’s right here!” reina knocks on the door three times and just when she’s about to go in for the fourth knock, the door swings open, revealing an all too familiar chocolate-haired male.

“y/n!” he exclaims as he throws his arms around you and reina just barely manages to dodge his long arms.

“hey! you almost hit my fuckin’ face you douche!” she cries. “and who the hell are you? i’ve never seen you around before.”

“oikawa, you’re still here?” your voice is muffled by his chest and you have to muster up all of the strength you have to pry him off of you.

“baby, you’re gonna be seeing me around for a whole month!” you and reina give each other a blank stare.

“first of all, don’t call me baby,” you duck down and it proves successful in getting out of his hold. “and secondly, what are you doing here?”

oikawa pouts at the lack of contact but continues the conversation nonetheless.

“iwaizumi snuck me in again and i’m staying at his place for now so wherever he goes, i tag along,” he points behind him as you and reina peer inside the room. “so what are you guys here for?”

“well my friends told me to meet me here, but it seems like they’re fraternizing with the enemy.” reina scrunches her nose up in disgust and you catch a glimpse of iwaizumi with his arm wrapped around a blonde girl’s shoulder.

“well iwaizumi’s friends are friends of mine and since your friends are iwaizumi’s friends then you’re my friend as well!” oikawa proclaims as he throws his arms around both you and reina this time and pulls you guys in for a side hug.

“let’s head in!” he pulls you guys into the room, not forgetting to lock the door as it shuts behind him.

iwaizumi notices you and you give him a small smile before taking a seat next to reina, oikawa following suit as he sits next to you as well.

“hajime.” reina greets him with a curt nod.

“reina... nice to see you,” iwaizumi says briefly.

“so who’s up for a game of seven minutes of heaven?” the girl who’s in iwaizumi’s arms proposes.

“c’mon! seven minutes in heaven? really? we’re in college now, let’s do something a little more daring!” a boy with black hair shouts.

“fine, let’s play strip poker then!” you hear someone suggest.

all of the girls in the room groan.

“pervert, you just wanna play it so that you can see us in our undergarments.”

“isn’t that the point of the game though?”

“i don’t even know how to play poker.”

“is this your second time at a party?” oikawa leans in and whispers into your ear, not wanting to put all of the attention on your conversation.

“yeah, i wasn’t planning on going in the first place but reina managed to convince me.” you lied straight through your teeth, not wanting to spare the embarrassment of telling oikawa the real reason why you came to the party.

“oh really? what would have you done all by yourself on this fine friday night if you stayed back at the dorms by yourself then?” he questions.

“probably head to the cafe thats off campus and try their new milk bread,” you say bluntly.

“milk bread?” you turn your head a bit and see oikawa trying to stifle a laugh.

you slap his thigh which prompts him to yelp.

“what’s so funny idiot?”

“n-nothing! it’s just... i like milk bread too.”

“really?” your eyes sparkle and oikawa can’t stop the genuine smile that forces its way onto his face. “do you wanna come with me tomorrow to try it then? i was gonna ask reina but she’s going on a blind date or something tomorrow and i don’t wanna bother her.”

“sure, but why me?”

“well i don’t know anybody else here, and you’re technically like my friend right?”

“what makes you think we’re friends?” he says but quickly comes to the realization that it sounded a lot more heartless than he had intended it to.

“sorry that came off rude...” he sheepishly scratches his neck.

“no i get what you were trying to say, but i mean, i consider you my friend so isn’t that enough?”

“geez quit flirting you two!” reina groans as she pushes you and out of reflex, oikawa immediately latches onto your arms so that you don’t accidentally bump heads with him.

“we’re not flirting,” you roll your eyes before muttering a small ‘thank you’ to oikawa after he releases you. “i’m just inviting him out to that cafe that i’ve been telling you about since you’re too busy going on that blind date.”

“hey hey hey! you were to keep quiet about that y/n!” reina loudly whispers as everyone else in the room roars in laughter.

“oops! sorry reina!” you snicker behind your hand.

“oh you’re so gonna get it!” she tackles you onto the floor. “oikawa, hold her down!”

you feel an extra set of hands put your arms down as reina uses her legs to pin your legs down.

“w-wait! oikawa i thought we were friends! don’t—” your words are suddenly cut off and you begin to break into a fit of laughter as reina commences her tickle assault on you.

“f-f..fuck o— AHAHAHAHA..... FUCK OFF R-REINA!” you manage to say in between breaks.

after what feels like minutes of torture, reina finally lets up and you’re free from the shackles that is her and oikawa.

“you’re a traitor oikawa!” you cry as you sit back up, massaging your shoulders to release the tension that had built up in them within a span of 30 seconds.

the said male flat out ignores you though as he turns to face the rest of the group.

“any-who, who’s up for a game of spin the bottle?”

“that’s lame.” iwaizumi finally speaks up.

“you’re lame! don’t make me tell everyone what went down last friday when—” oikawa is about to continue his sentence when iwaizumi suddenly sends him a cold glare that shuts him up.

“scary!” oikawa wraps his arms around you for what seems to be the umpteenth time tonight. “save me y/n!”

you roll your eyes.

“you’re awfully touchy with someone who you’ve only known for a week yet only met twice,” you complain but don’t make an effort to shy away from his touch.

“but we’re friends right? you even said so yourself!” he smirks at the face you make when you come upon the realization that he’s used your own words against you.

“whatever, do what you like,” you mumble against his arms. “i seriously envy your ability to get along with people easily.”

iwaizumi lets out a low growl as he witnesses the scene in front of him unfold. he wasn’t going to let oikawa get to you first when he clearly had his sights set on you from the moment you stepped foot into that party last friday.

he was going to be the first man to make a move on you and what better way to do so than a game of spin the bottle?

“how about,” iwaizumi picks up the half-empty bottle of beer next to him as he downs the rest of the contents inside before placing it flat on the floor in the middle of the room. “a game of spin the bottle?”

“and you think seven minutes of heaven is lame?” oikawa scoffs. “didn’t lara jean play it in middle school in that one flashback in to all the boys i’ve loved before?”

“you watched to all the boys i've loved before?” you ask oikawa.

“hell yeah i did!” he grins. “iwaizumi told me it’s corny but can’t a guy love his chick flicks?”

“you’re so lame!” you giggle, even though you too had watched it.

“have you seen the second movie?” he asks as you two begin to go off-topic again.

“no i haven’t, i heard it was bad so i just never bothered to watch it.” you shrug.

“dude we should watch it together then!” he suggests.

“and if it’s bad then i’m gonna kick you out of my dorm.” you snort.

the black-haired male from earlier clears his throat which prompts you and oikawa to stop talking.

“first of all, oikawa, y/n, get a room, and secondly, let’s play spin the bottle!” he yells.

the first few minutes of the game were boring and the matchups were weird, to say the least: reina had to kiss the blonde girl (you found out her name was genevieve), the black-haired boy (kevin) had to kiss some girl who you recognized was from your seminar class, and then when it came to be oikawa’s turn, the bottle landed on him so he just ended up kissing himself through a mirror out of his own free will (trust me, no one there wanted to see that happen and no one could stop him even if they tried.)

there were about 12 people in the room, 13 including you, and out of everyone there the one person who you would definitely not want to kiss.

iwaizumi.

it wasn’t like you despised him or anything, but after hearing about him from reina along with the girl who had been sitting in his lap this entire night, you really did not want to deal with a target on your back and an enemy acquired within your first month of living in the states.

so when it came down to your turn, you were silently praying to the gods that it would land on anybody but iwaizumi— heck even oikawa would be a better option.

but it seems like lady luck had her smile turned away from you because as the bottle began to slow down, a symbol of your fate being sealed in this very room, it had landed on the one person you did not want it to land on at all.

“y/n, you have to kiss hajime!”

the whole room went silent.

“what?!” genevieve shrieks and the ringing in your ears lingers around for longer than you’d expected. “i am not letting some... freak! kiss hajime!”

“genevieve, y/n is not a freak,” reina defends you, oikawa following up with a ‘yeah! she’s not a freak!’ as well. “you literally just met her and you’re just mad you don’t get to kiss him.”

“and while i’m not too... happy with this either, rules are rules.” the brunette continues as she sends a disapproving look iwaizumi’s way.

“well, pucker up buttercup,” iwaizumi picks genevieve up off his lap and scoots over to you. “i’m about to make it up to you for last week.”

he leans in closer and you shut your eyes, preparing for whatever is about to come next.

his lips are soft in a way, and what’s supposed to be a quick smooch turns into a full-blown make-out session as he starts to deepen the kiss by holding you from the back of your head, tangling his hand within your hair, and tilting his head to the side for more leeway.

you try to push him away but it proves to little avail as the grip he has on your waist with his other arm is too strong. your hands mindlessly find purchase in his brown locks as his tongue swipes along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. at first, you’re hesitant, but when you open your eyes and you see him staring into your e/c orbs with that alluring look in them, you can’t help but part your lips just the tiniest amount as if to test the waters, but it proves to be more than enough room for iwaizumi to easily slip his tongue into your oral cavity, turning the kiss into battle for dominance.

he tastes like a mix of beer and mint, a strange combination but he makes it work somehow.

the hand he had on your waist trails further downwards and finds a resting spot on your thigh and you can’t help but let out a small moan at the way he starts to rub the sensitive part of your thigh as his hand inches dangerously closer and closer to your core.

it’s only when you start to hear whistling and the ‘get a room!’ comments that you remember that you’re still in the middle of a game of ‘spin the bottle’ and that there's an audience watching as you two shamelessly make out.

this doesn’t seem to faze iwaizumi, however, but the adrenaline in your body aids in your attempt to push him off of you and once you’re completely free from his grasp, you immediately make a beeline to anywhere else but this cursed room.

“y/n!” you hear oikawa and reina call after you but you would rather die than spend another minute in that godforsaken room— especially not after iwaizumi embarrassed you like that in front of everyone.

part one | part two | part three | part four

[seijorhi]

Acts of Devotion

👀 i um 👉 👈 i hope this is okay...

Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

TW blood, gore, violence, murder, dub con, nsfw

Akaashi loves you.

He’s known that for a long time now, probably from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, back when you were both just wide eyed first year uni students, wildly out of your depths.

A lot’s changed since then. For one, he now gets to call you his, and it’s his arms that you return to at the end of a long day, his house that you both live in. It’d be a lie to say that it doesn’t bother him that he wasn’t your first love, but he’s contented himself with the knowledge that he’ll be your last. Your only great love.

The only one that matters.

But it hasn’t been without its challenges. He’s learned a lot about love since those early days, about what it means to truly devote yourself to somebody, to give everything you have for them.

Love essentially boils down to two things, Akaashi’s come to realise - sacrifice, and forgiveness. 

You always look so beautiful when you’re sleeping. Of course, Akaashi thinks you’re beautiful all the time; when you’re smiling and laughing, when your face is screwed up in petulant anger, when those pretty eyes of yours well with tears and they glimmer and shine - but there’s something about the peaceful expression, so soft and unguarded when you’re asleep that inexplicably draws him in. 

There’s a part of him that wants nothing more than to stay, to reach out and brush away the hair that’s fallen across your face, pull you closer and let sleep drag him under, but he can’t. 

Not tonight.

Instead he cranes his neck to press a kiss against your lips, a small smile tugging at his lips when you let out a quiet mewl in response. He loves you so, so much… that’s why he has to do this.

He’d forgive you anything. You know that, don’t you?

Sure, it hurt him when he found the messages. Scrolling back through your text history, it was like somebody had grabbed him by the throat and plunged a knife into his gut, twisting it for good measure.

Kaito i don’t know what to do

i love him but lately it feels like idk he’s being a little controlling i guess? 

… but maybe i’m just being paranoid?

He knows it’s not entirely your fault. For all the amazing qualities you possess, you are remarkably naive and so very, very impressionable - which worked to his favour in the beginning, he’ll be the first to admit, but now…

Now it’s becoming a problem.

You haven’t realised yet that everything Akaashi’s doing - it’s all for your own good. 

Your family wanted you under their thumb. They always asked too much of you, guilt tripped you whenever you tried to stand up for yourself or set boundaries. They’d never be happy for you, not truly. It hurts, he knows that, but some people don’t deserve to be in your life, especially when they treat you like that. 

Your job was causing you stress, and your boss was an arrogant, nasty piece of work. His salary is more than enough to support you both, why put yourself through that if you don’t need to? Aren’t you happier now that you don’t have to trudge into that office every day and pretend that it isn’t making you miserable?

Your friends were bad influences. Jealous of your relationship for one, but they were also petty, self absorbed and vapid, always trying to drag you down to their level so you wouldn’t ever outshine them. You’re better off without them, why can’t you see that?

Akaashi’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And he really thought that he’d solved that little problem, but apparently not. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that out of all of them, Kaito’s the one who’s been the hardest to shake. An old friend of yours from high school, Akaashi had known within five minutes of meeting him that he was head over heels in love with you and had been for a long, long time. 

He can’t blame him for that. You’re beautiful. Perfect. Entirely his. It’s painfully obvious that even before he came into the picture to sweep you off your feet, you’d never so much as looked twice at the guy. So Akaashi was more or less content to let his somewhat pitiful one sided crush on you slide. Considering that he had absolutely no intentions of letting him or any of your other friends remain part of your life for much longer, it was hardly worth wasting energy thinking about.

Until, that is, he read the messages that Kaito’s been sending you.

Leave him

I’m serious. 

My sister had a friend who was with a guy like that. She had to get a restraining order because he wouldn’t let her go - it got scary… You can come stay with me. I don’t want you getting hurt :(

It’s that last one that bothers him. Not the attempts to lure you away from him under the guise of being a safe haven from your ‘dangerous’ boyfriend, painting himself as your knight in shining armour - mildly irritating if not a little amusing - but for putting the idea in your head that Akaashi would ever hurt you.

That he can’t forgive.

He won’t have you look at him with fear in your eyes. 

Akaashi’s never tried to deny that side of himself, but he’s kept it from you, locked it away and buried it deep. The things he does… you’re too pure for that. He loves you, loves the way that your eyes still soften when you catch sight of him, the warm, trusting naivety that bleeds out of your every pore. If you knew what the hands that caressed you so gently had done, would you still beg for his touch?

You wouldn’t, he knows that just as he knows that even if you were to uncover the truth, he wouldn’t let you go. He can’t, you’re his.

Is it really so selfish of him to want to preserve that innocent naivety? 

But it seems like now he’ll have to indulge once again, and Akaashi, really, truly can’t say that it bothers him. Killing other people has always thrilled him, made the blood in his veins race… Killing other people for you, oh, that’s going to be a whole other level of pleasure he can’t wait to explore. 

The pads of his fingers trace the curve of your jaw for just a moment. “Back soon,” he whispers, gracing your cheek with a feather light kiss.

You’ve never asked why the door to the basement locks from both sides, he doesn’t even think you realise that the walls are soundproofed. Tonight he’s grateful. You won’t wake up, he’s almost positive of that, but Akaashi has no desire to be gone from your side for any longer than absolutely necessary.

He usually prefers to take his time. 

His first kill was more of an accident than anything else, there was too much blood, he panicked and it was over in the blink of an eye. There wasn’t time to savour it, to really enjoy the sight of the light leaving their eyes, the weak, desperate struggles and whimpers, the tantalising fear that inevitably bleeds into the air, growing more potent by the second - even the strongest break eventually. He’s learned since then how to draw it out, how to have fun with his work.

But he doesn’t have that luxury tonight, and, as he keeps having to remind himself, this isn’t about his pleasure.

Guns are quick. Messy. Akaashi’s never really taken a liking to the crude, graceless weapon. He prefers his knives. 

Waving a gun in somebody’s face gives them the idea that they’re going to die, and there are only so many times that you can shoot somebody before they just… bleed out. It’s not nearly as satisfying a death. A knife, on the other hand, brings with it more opportunities. It isn’t death that his victim becomes worried about, at least not initially, but pain. And as his hand glides over his collection, Akaashi decides that Kaito is due for a little pain.

I love him, you’d texted. I love him. I love him. I love him.

That’s what he’s trying to protect. 

Long, pale fingers wrap around the handle of his chef’s knife, (eight inches, sharp - a familiar, comforting weight in his hand) and he takes a deep, steadying breath.

Kaito’s mouth is taped shut. Akaashi doesn’t want to hear a filthy word out of those lips. His hands are bound behind his back, his ankles tied to the old, wooden chair. He’s good with his knots, the more Kaito struggles, the tighter they pull. And judging from the ugly, purpling shade of his hands and the tears leaking from bloodshot eyes, he’s been struggling for a while.

Good.

Akaashi smiles as he strolls towards his captive audience, fingering the straight edge of the knife. Kaito doesn’t try to speak, but the muffled whines and sobs grow louder with every step closed between them. The fear and tension in the air is palpable. 

His breath is little more than a frantic wheezing by the time Akaashi stops in front of him and drops into a crouch. Cool, gunmetal blue eyes meet Kaito’s deep brown ones, blown wide with terror.

“I’m not the monster you think I am,” he admits quietly. 

Looking up at him from beneath long, dark lashes, a faint smile on his lips, Akaashi could almost pass for an angel if not for the gleaming kitchen knife in his hand. Kaito pales, his entire body going taut as his gaze slides from Akaashi’s face to the gleaming blade in his hand. He shakes his head in desperation, another muffled scream escaping his gag-

Akaashi strikes fast, like a viper. The blade plunges into the meat of Kaito’s thigh and without an ounce of mercy, Akaashi yanks it back towards his knee.

The scream that rips through the air sends a pleasurable shiver of warmth down his spine, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he feels the muscles beneath him convulse. The gash isn’t too long, maybe a few inches, but it’s deep and Akaashi’s smirk only grows as warm blood gushes from the wound, coating his hand in slick vermilion. 

He tugs the knife free, rewarded with another choked howl from his captive as more blood sprays. Bound to the chair, there’s not a whole lot of room for Kaito to move, but it’s somewhat amusing to watch him try to thrash, escape the white hot agony radiating from his thigh through his entire body. It’s hard for the human body to comprehend that level of pain, and from experience, Akaashi’s well aware that it won’t take long for his body to go into shock and simply shut down from the blood loss, and once that happens, he won’t be of much use to anyone. 

Kaito’s trembling, face pale, his skin clammy. Impossibly black pupils swallow his irises whole, erratically tracking his captor’s every movement as Akaashi pushes himself to his feet and takes a moment to study him. Tears and bubbles of snot leak in a disgusting mix down his jaw, dripping onto his lap as he sobs against his bindings. It’s pitiful, seeing a man reduced to a whimpering, terrified wreck, but as the hand still holding his knife grips at his chin and yanks his face closer, Akaashi can’t help but gleefully drink it all in. 

Your would be knight in shining armour doesn’t look quite so strong and capable now, does he?

Akaashi doesn’t have much time left to make him suffer, but he can’t seem to resist trailing his fingers along Kaito’s injured leg, digging them deep into the ruined muscle - grinning wildly when he convulses and screams, arching up off the chair. 

There’s still so much that he’d like to do. He toys with the idea of taking his tongue, of carving his knife deep into his skin just to watch him whimper and bleed… but no. This isn’t about indulgence. This is about you. He has to have more discipline than that.

Dangling on the edge of consciousness, Kaito meets his gaze one last time. Maybe he senses that his death is close, or maybe he’s just searching for a last minute reprieve, mercy from the cold blooded killer before him. Terrified, agonised, delirious from the blood loss, he tries to speak - a plea, he thinks, or maybe just incomprehensible babbling, but his eyes burn into Akaashi’s, desperate and hollow.

Akaashi’s never been one for theatrics. He won’t waste more time monologuing while your friend clings to the last vestiges of life. If Kaito hasn’t guessed by now the reasons he’s ended up here, at Akaashi’s mercy, he’s far less intelligent than he gave him credit for, but he supposes that he owes him something, at least. 

“I love her,” he says with a small shrug, as if it explains everything.

And maybe it does. 

It hardly matters though, as Akaashi decides to finally end it with a vicious slice across his throat. Blood sprays like a fountain, splattering across the room and drenching him, Kaito’s body slumps in his seat, the last flicker of life slowly snuffing out, and Akaashi revels in the pure, sweet euphoria that floods his system.

He’s never killed anybody while you were home with him before. Normally he’s methodical, quick to clean up whatever mess is left behind. Tonight though, Akaashi doesn’t have the patience for all that.

He should at least take a shower, rid himself of the blood that soaked him to the skin, but the call of your arms, the sweet, soft floral scent he longs to drown himself in beckoning is too hard to resist. He sheds his clothes, casting them aside haphazardly along with the bloody knife as he stalks down the hallway to the bedroom. His heart is still racing, excitement drumming through his veins as he crawls onto the bed and slides the covers off of you.

Dimly, he registers that this is a monumentally bad idea, but all he can think about is the vivid memory of the light leaving Kaito’s eyes and you. Tonight, he killed for you, and it was exhilarating.

He doesn’t think he could stop himself even if he wanted to, and why would he want to?

You’re perfect, beautiful - his. Nothing and nobody will ever be able to separate the two of you, he’ll kill anybody who tries. 

You stir a little as Akaashi’s lips graze along your skin, his fingers sliding the silk of your nightgown up over your hips.

“‘Kaashi?” you sleepily murmur, trying to blink heavy eyelids open.

He wonders if you can feel the way his bloodstained hands are trembling as they ease your supple thighs apart. “Shh, baby,” he presses a kiss against your leg as he manoeuvres himself between them, “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

Let me take care of you. 

He needs this.

[jiminrings]

omg omg omg... what if jk sees yn WALKING TAE HOME?? like it looks like that but they’re just passing by his place or something and he’s actually walking yn home ?? and to make matters worse jk THOUGHT it wasn’t like that but someone told him “oh yeah she’s walking him home, she’s always done that with him” sorry if it’s not an original idea

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

it’s raining at a party and jungkook gets the wrong idea

“good evening.”

yoongi sQUAWKS at the shock that’s mere inches away from his face, having only woken up from his afternoon nap that ended up with him waking right before dinner

why were you all up in his face

what the fuck was that for ://

“god, never do that to me again,” he grumbles at the abrupt awakening even if it’s his system that told him to, only a convenience that you happen to be there when he was starting to shift in his now-shallow slumber

“guess what!!!”

oh you’re squealinG??? alright that must be good

it’s nice to hear you excited anyways because you haven’t been for a long time ever since j*ngkook lol

“just show me,” yoongi sits up fully from his position on the couch, rubbing the remaining sleep off his eyes

normally, you would be pissed instantly because him not guessing just spoils your whole excitement

but tHIS time you don’t look bothered at the slightest, proceeding to take his faux disinterest in stride

the door clicks open and seokjin strides in like he owns the place, trying to immerse himself in the situation he’s walked on as fast as possible

you squeal in regard, eyes now switching between him and yoongi before you whip out something from behind your back

“i got a lunchbox!!!!”

you thrust the lunchbox (you recreated it in the way you receiver it) to yoongi’s face and he flinches momentarily, eyes focusing on the lunchbox first before his mind processes your words

“that is a really shiny scarf it’s — wait what??”

you,,, gOT A LUNCHBOX????

..... and it’s not from him??

yoongi looks at seokjin and the way he looks perplex but definitely sure confirms that it isn’t him either

“so someone — you received a lunchbox. huh.”

WOOOOOOW

you nod earnestly, admiring the shiny scarf and the handiwork of an embroidery that’s your name on it

“yup! i was with taehyung when i noticed it on the corner of the room.”

oh god

seokjin scratches the back of his head and it’s a dead giveaway that yoongi notices, something sketchy definitely up in the air that shouldn’t be there

“yoongi! come here for a sec. i have a uh, question about weed :-)”

jin is nOT good when it comes to segues

he takes the liberty to pull aside a yoongi who has question marks knitted on his eyebrows, his gaze immediately trained on him once they’re far enough away from you

“long story but!!!!! that jungkook kid gave y/n the lunchbox. taehyung just happened to be there.”

you see

yoongi could only digest multiple things from a single sentence at once

but the problem is, he’s digesting EVERYTHING from jin’s sentence and he didn’t want to

he’s just gonna omit the parts he hates the most :D

“y/n. taehyung gave you that lunchbox. say thank you to him tomorrow morning.”

NO??????

jin sputters because that is clearly not the truth he’s just said

and apparently, you seem to think so to because you just laughed at his cutthroat statement

“no he didn’t,” you heartily laugh, putting down the lunchbox before crossing your arms across his chest

no way

both jin and yoongs freeze this time because does that mean you already know who gave the lunchbox to you??

and if you know who, and if you’re laughing right now,,,, does that mean you’ve already forgiven jungkook????

pls say no

“i already thanked taehyung, yoongs,” you smile at the fresh memory, “but two seconds later, he told me that he WASN’T the one who made it for me. he said he’s good at baking, but horrendous at cooking!!!!”

...

.....

“....... so you really don’t know who it is?”

“nope! not a clue :D”

whew

yoongi thinks you should never get to know who it is

jin thinks you shouldn’t know who it is tHIS early

yoongi dodges the topic easily to refrain from dwelling on it any longer, about to send an angry text full of queries to jin later on

“mmm. what was the lunch?”

“my favorite!!!” you beam and even whip out your phone to show them the picture of the food you ravaged hours ago

you turn your eyes to jin, giddy in excitement while yoongi’s holding your phone-holding hand to zoom into the picture

“and it’s just like your recipe!!!”

.. hehe

..... that’s because it his

goddamn jungkook managed to recreate it like his recipe???? hmm commendable

alright yoongi’s angrily looking at him rn

maybe he’ll send an angry paragraph text this time >:(

“weren’t you concerned like... since you don’t know the person? what if they poisoned your lunch?”

yoongi suggests in an attempt to make you think rationally, away from his insistence that you should nEVER know that jungkook made you your favorite

“then i got a good meal out of it.”

:O

that’s not,,,, that’s not a good answer

b-bestie ??????

both yoongi and jin are speechless and the former takes the lead once more, clearing his throat because the conflict of this lunchbox thing is presenting makes his head ache

“anyways, there’s another party tonight.”

you raise your hand quick in the prospect of unwinding for free

“i’m in!!”

“you should be. hoseok’s the host.”

that makes it even better!!!

it apparently doesn’t for mr. student affairs because jin groans in annoyance, not really digging his school official position because he’d need to sit this one out forcibly :///

“goddamn it. jung’s throwing it? his parties are sO good that it even reached our radar when i was still a senior!”

it it reaches senior-level status of approval then that’s like,,,, the only seal of approval you’d ever need

“no way,” you’re awed at the newfound fact, not expecting that hoseok was already an A+ party-thrower even before he became a senior this year

“even namjoon liked his parties.”

namjoon THEE student registrar??? the same namjoon as in your friend by extension because he’s sort of a friend to seokjin???? :O

“really? even namjoon found his parties great??? BUT HE’S LIKE-“ yoongi finds the right substitute words to a stick up his ass in the most respectful way possible because he’s sort of friends with the guy too, “he’s like namjoon,, he’s the antithesis to hoseok.”

jin shrugs because everyone knows the saying at this point

there’s something for everyone at jung’s

“wear a face mask?” yoongi suggests to jin so he wouldn’t be recognized, knowing he’s a lil upset that he can’t come to this party because the face he boasts about is known by everybody

“no. i’m gonna look like a fucking narc, yoongi.”

alright that makes sense

he bounces back from that, waving his hand to shoo you and yoongi off

“sucks. yeah whatever. i’ll hold the fort down, just don’t do anything stupid enough for me to pick you up.”

:)

you’re not gonna do anything stupid!! :)

jungkook’s too down to even focus at the moment

he’s at his desk and he’s supposed to study for a test tomorrow, and all the material needed for it is engraved in his mind already, but well

yeah his mind’s only fixed on you right now and not chemistry

“she thought it was someone else who gave her the lunchbox.”

jin flinches as his door bursts open, his lunch break sign posted rIGHT outside the door to avoid things like these happening

oh it’s jungkook

oh. it’s jungkook ://

“i keep telling you that counseling’s right next door, kid.”

jin himself digs the running joke but jungkook apparently doesn’t, a sorrowed look to his face that can’t be fixed by some teasing

jin ignored that obviously because it’s not like he’s on jeon’s side!! he’s just here to be as neutral and realistic as much as possible

“and besides, it’s not like you put your name on it, right?? wasn’t that your whole purpose? do it to her like she did to you?

”m-my name...,. i’ll put my name...?”

WAIT HOLD ON

jungkook jolts from his desk, an epiphany forming in his mind

he may not have understood the interaction he had with mr. kim hours ago, but after replaying it in his head for hours now (along with that part of you mistaking taehyung to be the giver), he fINALLY gets an idea

he rushes out of his room and right to the couch where jimin’s sprawled out and watching a movie

“hi jimin!!! is there a party tonight?”

jimin almost falls out of his seat from the surprise of seeing jungkook altogether, gripping his chest

“f-fuck! — yeah. yeah dude, there’s a party tonight...?”

wait why is he asking

“o-okay!! take me with you.”

WHAT

jimin’s surprised that jungkook wants to come with, let alone even ask in the first place

buuuut jimin’s a good friend and he’ll say his assurances first before he gets to asking the why aspect to this

“alright. by the way about last time, kook — i swear i won’t leave you alone this time!! i’m gonna hold my alcohol in and-“

“no, no!” jungkook interrupts and shakes his head strongly, spooking jimin for a second with how determined he looks

“you can leave me alone at the party!! i-i’ll be there on my own.”

this is his idea

he’s a man with a plan!!! he’s also a man who has your eyedrops and the various containers he made with it inside his gigantic hoodie pocket

he’s more comfortable now than he was the first time he came around at a party

he knows you’re here somewhere along the crowd and that alone brings him comfort :-)

“i’m gonna go outside. these vape juices are annoying.”

you huff the moment you get a whiff of sriracha-flavored vape juice one more time, the whole area where you happen to sit in being the most annoyingly-scented room in the whole house

who does that!!!!! who gets condiments as their fucking vape juice!!!!!

yoongi waves you off as he’s also nearing his limit too, his peeve being mint chocolate juice and he’s gonna dip as sOON as this dude at the corner tries blowing it into laughable smoke rings again

yeah that’s what fresh air smells like alright

.... and rain??

it’s raining???

wow you haven’t even noticed and practically no one else did

hoseok’s sound system must be too good for none of you to notice that it’s raining outside!! a light shower that looks like it’s gonna turn into buckets within a matter of minutes

“Y/N!!!”

a voice yells into the street and your eyes widen with how loud it is, squinting your eyes hard to try and see the source

is that-

“TAEHYUNG?!?!”

is he running towards you??

wait why is he running towards you

(tae actually found out about this party through yoongi and he heard that there were non-alcoholic jello shots and mini cake hors d’oeuvres which are his favorites so he’s sprinting)

the way that he’s running towards you and the water that puddles when he steps gives you anxiety, a worried lilt to your yell

“TAE?? BE CAREFUL IT’S-“

taehyung can’t register what you just yelled out because before he knows it, he slips

he slips suddenly in the rain and there’s a harsh twist to his ankle in doing so that makes him choke out

“WHAT DID YOU — FUCK!!^]%{^]”

oh my god

you grab the nearest umbrella in the rack from your right, speed-walking to where taehyung’s fallen on the ground

he’s visibly startled, blubbering when you get to him

“i-i’m not crying. it’s the rain.”

of course :-)

you lift taehyung without much help from him since it’s hard for him to shift his body weight into one foot, putting yourself underneath his arm

“yeah, i believe you,” you smile as to comfort him and he returns it in relief, knocking the side of his head to the top of yours because his adrenaline’s through the roof

“i’ll walk you home. or to the emergency room. your call.”

“ER please??? god, m-my roommate’s into crystals and i don’t think amethyst can help me with this.”

yeah lmao that’s your cue to start walking

you text seokjin to meet you at the hospital instead of here, having to consider the fact that an official from student affairs is picking you up and is indeed your best friend being enough of a shock for poor taehyung at the moment

jungkook’s been looking for you for the past minute ever since you stood up from the couch, following you out the door but uh,,, you’re not here??

who is here?

oh wait!!! that’s vernon at the bench by the front foor!!! he’s from his stem class :D

“was that y/n? a-and taehyung?”

jungkook doesn’t beat around the bush because he’s sort of friends with the guy too, the same guy who’s a lil giggly with the daiquiris at the moment

“hey jimin!! what’s up dude? yeah, that was y/n and taehyung.”

uhm what

jimin’s BLONDE!! how could he get mistaken for jimin?

jungkook ignores the mistaken identity, eyes anxiously pointing towards the road again

“she’s walking him home?”

“totally. she’s always done that with him.”

what

..... what

he’s trying to trust it on good faith that vernon absolutely doesn’t know what he’s talking about

jungkook’s hurt but god does that pain shoot through him instantly, getting out of the porch wistlessly

wAIT

that’s you!!! that’s still you!!!!

and you’re-

????

you’re holding up taehyung and he’s limping

your ears pick up on the sudden running behind you and that pANICS you and in turn panics tae

but that doesn’t matter

it shouldn’t.

the cabs are atleast three more blocks away and neither of you brought a car because the dorms are walking-distance

everyone that’s left at the party has got to be too intoxicated to even put a key in the ignition

the weight on your shoulder eases and it makes you stop in your tracks to see if tae’s suddenly regrouped

is that —

jungkook lifts taehyung by his other arm, the light shower of rain making his hair damp without an umbrella like yours

“taehyung’s hurt.”

it only registers now that you’re seeing jungkook and he’s right here, surprising you as a whole

jungkook’s as startled as you are, swallowing the nervousness upon seeing you to get his words out

“a-and i wanna talk to you.”

[honeypiehotchner]

winter love (all i want for Christmas is you) -- Hotch x Fem!Reader

Hi hi hi!! I have literally been writing this on and off since September, and now I finally get to share it!! A few quick things: this fic has very much Hallmark vibes but does have a good dose of angst too; for the sake of this fic, Aaron was born and raised in Virginia; and Jack was never born (sorry buddy!).

I listened to Michael Bublé’s songs “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and “Cold December Night” a lot while writing this, so feel free to play those while you read! xx.

(The gif is from google because once again, my gif search is broken on here because apparently this post is too long?? Rip me)

Summary: You’ve returned back to your hometown after leaving to get your education, but you didn’t expect to run into your childhood best friend (and first love). 

Word count: 9.4k

HOTCH MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

If you told yourself a few months ago that you’d be moving back to Virginia, you would’ve scoffed and probably laughed -- loudly. Your mom, on the other hand, would’ve been elated, and swore she knew it.

Like she’s doing now.

“I’m just so excited to have you home again,” she gushes, helping you carry boxes of your clothes up to your old childhood room.

The room needs some work, like taking down all these embarrassing posters and changing the sheets to something not so cringe-worthy (thankfully, it’s a full-size bed instead of the old twin you grew up sleeping on). But it’ll be fine for the time being. It’s not like you’re going to find an apartment right before Christmas, or that you even want to. It’s been a while since you’ve spent a full Christmas season with your mom.

You’ve been studying out of state for the past six years, working to get your masters and doctorate degrees — which you’ve completed. But now you need a job and a new start, which is why you decided to come home.

You’ve missed Virginia a lot more than you’ll admit. It’s hard not to miss your hometown when you’re gone from it for so long.

“We need a Christmas tree,” you say, as you come back down the stairs. “Christmas is next week, how do you not have a tree up yet?”

“I wasn’t going to get one without you,” your mom says like the fact should’ve been obvious to you.

You laugh as you plop down next to her on the couch. “I know. We should go tomorrow.”

“Whenever you want to,” she smiles, squeezing your arm. “Have you been to your coffee shop yet?”

“My coffee shop?” You raise an eyebrow. “Since when has it been mine?”

“Since you practically lived there during high school,” your mom counters.

She has a point. “Well, no, I haven’t. I just got here.”

“You should go.”

You raise both eyebrows this time, turning your entire body to face her. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you trying to get me to go back there?”

“Why don’t you want to?”

You give her a look. “You know why.”

“I don’t.”

She does. She knows exactly what happened there.

“I’m not repeating it,” you mutter. “And I’ll be finding a new coffee shop, thank you very much.”

“Oh, you can’t let one bad experience stop you from going there!”

“So you do remember!”

“How could I forget? When you were a wreck for months after. I still never forgave him for that, you know.”

You shake your head, settling back against the couch pillows. “It’s been long enough now that I think forgiveness won’t hurt anyone.”

You say that, and yet you don’t want to step foot in that shop ever again.

+++

It was the summer before your junior year. Aaron was a rising senior, so there was the weight of it being his last year already hanging in the air. Especially when he was already looking at a pre-law track for college — meaning he’d be insanely busy after graduation with not much time for you.

Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that his being too busy for you would start before then.

You were a year younger — technically almost two, but the way your birthday fell, you were only one grade younger — but that didn’t stop Aaron from being your friend. At first you thought he had ill intentions (as most older boys in high school did), but he didn’t. He genuinely enjoyed your company, and you genuinely enjoyed his.

More than genuinely. You say now that you don’t believe in love at first sight, but you know that’s because it already happened for you, and you believe it to be a one-time deal.

That one time was when Aaron sat across from you at the lunch table.

You were alone and reading a book. You were a freshman then, and being an extra year younger didn’t exactly help in the whole making friends department. Especially when a lot of your peers were already aware of your age.

But Aaron wasn’t aware, nor did he even care.

He saw that you were alone, and reading, and he decided to sit with you. He wanted to read too, anyway, but he knew he didn’t always like being alone when he read. Something told him you were the same way.

He was correct.

It took almost the entire fall semester before either of you said one word to each other. Sometimes you’d be too engrossed in the book you were reading to even notice he’d sat down in front of you. And when you would finally notice, he would be the one with his nose too deep in the book to notice.

But eventually, you started sharing book recommendations.

Which eventually turned into helping each other with homework. You were always better at math and Spanish than he was (you were already in the sophomore levels of these classes as a freshman), but he was always good with history and English. He must’ve noticed you were in freshman English and history, but he never commented on it — at least not in a way that said he was bullying you.

That winter break was when you started going to the coffee shop together. It was within walking distance of the high school, so the two of you would go at the end of the day until your parents could pick you up. Sometimes your mom would drive him home, or vice versa.

And when Aaron got his license, he’d drive you both there and drop you off at home.

The two of you were inseparable. Almost literally.

Until Aaron met Haley.

Haley was in theatre. She was everything you weren’t. Aaron’s age, pretty, funny, outgoing, and worst of all: popular.

You watched your best friend fall in love.

And that wouldn’t have hurt as bad as it did if it wasn’t Haley he was falling for.

You kept your feelings for Aaron quiet, even to your mom — though you found out later that she always knew. You had almost thought he felt the same, or that he might be beginning to, and then suddenly he was talking about some girl named Haley.

Only she wasn’t just “some girl” to him, or even to you. Everyone knew Haley Brooks.

Slowly, your lunch table conversations were less about what the two of you were going to do the coming weekend, and more about Haley. How he was going to get her to notice him (join theatre, even though he never liked theatre before her). How he was going to ask her on a date (it wouldn’t be a date at first, just dinner after theatre rehearsal, that ended up being with the entire cast, but he sat next to her). How he was going to win her over (he brought flowers to the first performance and surprised her backstage). How he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend (that was the same night as the flowers, completely unplanned, but she said yes).

How he thought he might want to marry her one day.

The last hurt most of all. He confessed it to you one night out of the blue as he was driving you home after school. You knew you could handle him being in love with someone else. Some sick part of you knew — or hoped, rather — that the relationship wouldn’t last. What high school relationship lasts longer than a few months, anyway?

But when Aaron fell for Haley, he fell completely. And hard.

He started cancelling plans with you to spend time with Haley — before they were even dating. When they were dating, he stopped making plans with you altogether.

Then came the summer before his senior year.

It had been months since you saw him last. You had a new lunch period the second half of the year because one of your favorite teachers asked for help during the period, which meant you didn’t have lunch with Aaron — but you don’t even think he noticed.

June came and went. The two of you barely saw one another, barely talked when you did. But when you did, you clung to those moments like they were your only lifeline. In a way, they were.

July finally came and he actually made plans to see you. He said he wanted to get coffee again, catch up, hang out for a few hours, sit in silence, even, whatever you wanted. You were excited.

Some part of you thought that he had broken up with Haley — wishful thinking, but you were sixteen and in love, what else were you supposed to think?

But he hadn’t broken up with her. They were very much in love. You know. You witnessed it.

Apparently, Haley didn’t like the idea of Aaron getting coffee and lunch alone with a female friend. So, she took it upon herself to tag along.

You saw them sharing a kiss through the window, Aaron’s back facing you. When they pulled away, Haley’s eyes caught yours, but she said nothing to Aaron, just pulled him back in for another kiss.

You didn’t go into the shop that day. And you haven’t since.

The last time you saw Aaron was the day before he moved to college. He was stopping by to say goodbye to you.

You were reading a book in your room, and your eyes caught the movement on the driveway. You told your mom to say you weren’t home.

You watched him leave from your bedroom window, hands stuffed in his pockets.

+++

You heard that Aaron and Haley got married. Not because you wanted to hear, but because your mom told you. She probably meant well, but you drank an entire bottle of wine that night. You weren’t even 21 yet at the time.

Of course, it’s been years since then. You’re all fine now, and you’ve got the student loan debt to prove it.

But even with three degrees, job hunting can be a bitch. Especially this time of year.

You need coffee.

You blame the fact that this coffee shop is the best one around. And the fact that it’s Christmas season, meaning they have your favorite drink again.  

Dark chocolate peppermint mocha. It’s a godsend. And you haven’t had one in years.

Well, you have. But they haven’t been from here. They haven’t had this shop’s specially made peppermint whipped cream, or the peppermint stick that can be used to stir.

You hate how much you have to psych yourself up before you walk inside. You don’t even know where Aaron is these days or what he’s doing. He could be halfway across the country for all you know.

So, with that fact in mind, you walk inside. You embrace the familiar sight and smells, remembering what it felt like the last time you were here.

You move toward the counter, falling in the short line to the register. And your stomach flips when you see a familiar face standing in front of you.

Well, his back is facing you, so you don’t see his face, but you know it’s him. There’s this thing about first loves. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen them. You’ll always recognize everything about them. The back of their head, their shoulders, their hands, the way they walk.

Their voice. Even if it’s deeper than the last time you heard it.

Maybe he won’t recognize me.

But what you don’t know is that no amount of time could pass to make you unrecognizable to Aaron.

Or that he saw your reflection in the glass case next to him when you got in line, and he’s been internally trying to figure out what the hell to say to you since.

If it hadn’t been for his voice, you wouldn’t have recognized Aaron at all. A black coffee? That’s it?

The barista pours it and slides it over to him before he’s even done paying. He’s at a coffee shop -- this coffee shop, and he orders a black coffee?

Who is he?

You step up to the register as he steps away, and you swear you see him looking at you through the corner of your eyes. But you must be seeing things because why would he do that?

You focus on ordering -- a medium peppermint mocha, complete with the whipped cream and peppermint stick. After paying, you step to the side to wait for your coffee.

You nearly knock right into Aaron, but you stop yourself, well aware of his presence.

Another thing about first loves: you’re always painfully aware of their presence.

“Hi,” he says, awkward and fumbling even though it’s only one word. He’s wearing a stuffy suit and tie, which seems odd, but you’re positive that’s just normal lawyer attire. He probably lives in a suit these days. His hair is shorter than it used to be and he looks older, but so do you. Despite all of this, he’s still Aaron. He’s still the same Aaron Hotchner you fell in love with at sixteen.

“Hi,” you return the awkward smile, tugging on the strap of your purse. After a beat, you nod toward his drink. “Black coffee, huh?” You try to tease. “Who hurt you?”

He laughs loudly then, shoulders and head shaking. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Hotchner,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The conversation dies for a moment, so you busy yourself by looking at the different cakes and pastries in the glass case. You probably should’ve gotten one, but maybe another time.

Another time. Fifteen minutes ago you wouldn’t be caught dead in this shop and now you’re already thinking about another time.

“Are you busy?” Aaron suddenly asks, prompting you to look at him with furrowed brows. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you smile gently, knowing you might regret this later. But it’s been over a decade since you’ve seen him last. One coffee won’t hurt.

And I’m over him, you remind yourself, no matter how untrue it might be.

Once you have your peppermint mocha -- finally, you think, it’s been too long -- you walk with Aaron to find a table. A lot has changed about this shop, but one thing that hasn’t (because there isn’t much that can be changed) is the seating.

Aaron leads you to your old table. The table the two of you practically lived at.

It makes your heart warm and ache all at once. The drink you decided to order isn’t helping matters either.

“So…” You pause, shifting in your seat. “What are you up to these days?”

“You stole my question,” he jokes.

“Tough,” you smile into your drink. “I asked it first.”

He chuckles, but answers anyway. “I’m working for the BAU now.”

“The B-A-What?”

“The-- FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you… Did you really just say you’re working for the FBI?”

“I think so,” he says. “I’m the unit chief.”

“You’re the-- Okay. So, you don’t work for the...the BAU, they work for you.”

“We’re a team,” he offers.

“Said every boss ever,” you quip, taking a long drink of your mocha. You take the peppermint stick in between your fingers and stir, eyebrows furrowing down at the swirl of coffee and whipped cream. “So...what do you do exactly?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops, hesitating. “Do you really want to know?”

You give him a look. “Of course I do.”

“It’s not great.”

“Aaron, just tell me, or I’ll start reciting my dissertation word for word.” Your statement stuns him to silence, so badly that you almost laugh. “That’s boring. Working for the FBI can’t possibly be boring.”

“Oh, it’s never boring, that’s for sure,” he mutters. “We profile serial killers.”

“You what?”

He laughs. “We look at their behaviors and crimes and build a profile, what they might look like, their age, that stuff.”

“Intriguing.”

“I can’t believe you’re interested.”

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t be,” you counter. “You know I thrive off this stuff.”

“I remember,” he says quietly.

And just like that, you remember, too.

It’s so easy to forget about all the hurt he caused, all the pain he left behind. Especially because you know he never intended to hurt you. He would never do that, not to you, not on purpose. You never told him how you felt. It’s not his fault he couldn’t read your mind.

“Well, you’ve got a doctorate,” he says, shifting the conversation. “What else are you up to?”

“How did you know it’s a doctorate?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you profiling me? Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes,” he smiles. “And no, not intentionally. You said you’d recite your dissertation. Those are normally written to get doctorate degrees. You always wanted one, I assumed you met your goal.”

“You assume correct,” you nod. “I’m back to start job and apartment hunting, but after the new year. I wanted to spend some time with my mom.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s good, she--” You pause, shaking your head with a laugh. “She actually brought you up yesterday.”

“Me?” Aaron looks genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, you,” you knock your foot against his leg without thinking, but you pay no mind, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. “She’s actually the one who put the bug in my ear to come here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I haven’t been back here since…”

It takes him a moment, but he nods slowly. “Right.”

“Yeah,” you draw your legs closer to you on instinct. “But that was a long time ago. How are you and Haley?”

You don’t expect the way his face falls. You glance down at his left hand. No ring.

“We got a divorce a few years ago, split up about a good year before that,” Aaron explains. “She’s good, last I heard. Remarried already.”

“Wow,” you murmur, not knowing what else to say. “What-- I mean, what happened?” When he hesitates, you backpedal. “Sorry, I shouldn’t even ask, it’s probably a sensitive question.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron chuckles. “I don’t mind talking about it with you.”

That sends a dangerous flutter through your stomach. “Okay. Well I’m all ears.”

“Oh, it’s not a long story, it was just my job,” he shrugs. “I took the unit chief position and she was happy at first. But then, there was a period of time where we had what felt like case after case after case.” He shakes his head. “I was barely home, but I was barely in one state for long, anyway. It was a stressful time. We were everywhere at once.”

“That does sound stressful,” you frown. “Has it slowed down now?”

“Kind of, it has its moments,” he admits. “But being gone so much, it took a toll on her. She wanted to start a family, but said she couldn’t do that if I was never there.”

“But I mean she had to have known how your schedule would be with the new job, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, then shrugs. “It’s been so long now that I stopped trying to understand her thought process.”

“I get that,” you say sincerely. You understand not wanting to waste energy on something like that anymore. Sometimes you just have to give it up and have peace with the fact that you’ll never understand.

“What about you?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard. “Seeing anyone?” He adds it quietly, like he’s shy.

Aaron Hotchner. Shy. Around you.

“Oh,” you nearly laugh at the prospect. “No. No, I’m not. Do you really think I would be if I was moving back in with my mom?”

He laughs, bringing his coffee to his lips. “You have a point there.”

A comforting silence settles over the two of you after that.

You shouldn’t feel slightly giddy that his and Haley’s relationship didn’t work out in the end. You’re over him by now, anyway. But something about being right has you fighting a smile. You smother the urge, though, knowing he probably doesn’t want to hear anyone, let alone you, say, “I told you so.”

You do feel bad for him, genuinely. Divorce is never easy for anyone, and you hate he went through that. Especially like that. Haley knew his work schedule would change. Why would she act supportive if she knew this in advance? Just sits uneasy with you, that’s all.

Of course, you feel that overprotective-best-friend nature coming back to you.

“What plans do you have now that you’re back?” He asks, keeping the conversation up, but you can tell he’s earnest — which makes you smile.

“Nothing, really. My mom and I are getting a Christmas tree later, but that’s all I have on my schedule.” You pause, giving him another look. “We both know you were my only friend in high school. Who do you think I’m going to see while I’m here?”

“Hopefully a lot of me,” he replies easily, smiling around his coffee.

And for once, you don’t hesitate to reply. “I hope so, too, actually. I didn’t think you were still around here. And I really didn’t expect you to be working for the FBI.”

“This might be presumptuous of me, but what are you doing this weekend?” He asks, quickly adding on, “A good friend of mine is hosting a Christmas party for the team, and I’ve basically been threatened to bring a plus one.”

“Threatened, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

He nods seriously. “They won’t let me inside without one.”

You gasp comically, keeping up the act. “Well you can’t miss the party!”

“I know,” he sighs, propping his head in his hand.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to come with,” you say, still deadly serious.

But Aaron’s lips split into a grin the same time yours does. “It’s this Saturday.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free.”

He doesn’t stop grinning. “I can pick you up, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you say. “I should probably give you my number, shouldn’t I?”

“I was going to ask,” he admits.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I figured.”

After exchanging numbers, the two of you return to your idle conversations. Only, they’re less idle than they ever have been before.

He vents about still not understanding how people can be capable of the things he sees. How he knows that everyone is capable of unspeakable things, but it’s how they do it that still makes him stumble sometimes. And you try to sympathize, though you know you can’t. But still you tell him not to try to understand.

“You’re a good man,” you say. “You’re not going to understand it because you’re not like them.”

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that, consciously. Sometimes it’s good to hear it from someone else.”

Then he tells you it’s your turn, and again, you don’t feel the need to hesitate.

You tell him how you weren’t planning on moving back here at all. But the job market where you were didn’t...fit you, for some reason. You never felt like you belonged, and so maybe that’s why you wanted to come back here.

Because even though you left this place heartbroken, you still felt like you belonged when you were here. You felt like you belonged when you were with him, but you don’t tell him that.

Something tells you he heard it anyway, though. Being a profiler and all. Which you still don’t quite understand, but you’re sure he’ll have plenty of time to tell you in the coming future.

+++

After an hour or two, you decide it’s time for you to head back home. Partly because you need to make some lunch for yourself, and partly because you’ve watched Aaron dismiss at least three phone calls in the last twenty minutes.

But he didn’t say a word each time, so you know he won’t tell you who it is or if he needs to go. It makes your heart warm at the thought that he wants to spend more time with you, but if it’s his job, then he needs to go.

He walks you to your car and you hug him around his neck, unashamedly taking a deep breath of his cologne when you stretch up to wrap your arms around him. He didn’t wear cologne back in high school. But this one smells good.

You mentally prepare yourself on the way home for the amount of questions your mom is no doubt going to ask.

You’re supposed to be going to pick out a tree with her today, which means you were supposed to be home a little earlier than this, which means your mom probably already knows what happened and you won’t even get a chance to explain yourself.

In the end, your prediction was correct.

“How was your peppermint mocha?” You glance over to the couch and find your mom sitting there, idly reading a book.

The question is as directly indirect as they come. You raise an eyebrow and kick the front door closed (yes, she asked before you even stepped foot inside the house). “It was good,” you reply, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders. “Why?”

“Oh, you enjoyed it for almost two hours, so I was just wondering.” Your mom fights back a grin, but she’s not doing a very good job.

You sigh. “Just go ahead and ask.”

She closes her book. “Alright, fine, I will. How is Aaron?”

There it is.

“He’s good,” you answer rather pointedly, making your way into the living room. “He’s working for the FBI now.”

“Oh, I knew that already.”

You plop down next to her on the couch. “Seriously?”

“Of course!” She cries, like it should be obvious. “Small talk happens when you see someone in the store.”

“Right,” you scoff. “Anyway, thanks for not telling me him and Haley divorced.”

She grimaces.

“Yeah, exactly,” you nod at her expression. “That’s how I felt. I bet it was just awesome of me to ask about how him and his ex-wife are doing.”

“I’m sorry,” your mom says. “It completely slipped my mind. It’s been so long since those two split.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring him up,” she answers sincerely. “You seemed like you had really moved on. I figured it didn’t matter, and I didn’t want to make you start thinking about him again when you had finally gotten over it all.”

“Oh,” you murmur. “Well, thank you, then, but...still. I feel like an idiot.”

“Did he seem angry when you asked?”

“No, the opposite,” you sigh. “He explained what happened and I let him talk about it for a second, but he seems mostly moved on from it.”

“I don’t know how he can be,” your mom scoffs. “She’s already remarried, you know.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

Your mom shakes her head. “I should’ve shook some sense into that boy when he came to say goodbye that day.” Then she pauses, poking your leg. “And I should’ve made you say goodbye to him. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I didn’t wanna talk to him,” you shrug. “We barely had all year, anyway. And one goodbye would not have stopped him from going to college and marrying Haley, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “It’s fun to think about, though.”

“Well stop thinking about it,” you mutter. “We are friends and he’s probably seeing someone by now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here, so.”

Your mom raises her eyebrows. “I never said anything about what you guys are now.”

Damn. Caught. “I know, but I’m just...catching you before you do.”

“Mmm, more like catching yourself.”

“Shut up.”

She lightly hits you with a pillow. “Don’t say that to your mother,” she jokes. “Especially not when I’m right and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Are you ready to pick out a tree?”

“Of course,” she replies. “Just let me find my shoes.”

While she’s getting ready -- because “finding her shoes” really means fixing her hair and makeup and changing outfits a couple times -- you get a text from Aaron.

Aaron: It was nice catching up with you today

You smile and type your reply. Ditto. We should do it again sometime.

He doesn’t reply, but you figure he’s busy at work, anyway. And you’ve got a tree to pick out and decorate, so you’re technically busy, too.

You try not to think too much about it.

+++

And truthfully, you don’t think much about it, until Aaron finally replies. It’s hours later when you’re decorating the freshly-cut Christmas tree in the living room, with Michael Bublé’s Christmas album playing through the stereo speakers. It’s just like when you were younger.

You check your phone and see that it’s Aaron texting you back, but you pocket it before reading the message. You’re busy.

Your mom notices the change on your face. “Everything alright?” She asks as she places a snowflake ornament on one of the smaller branches.

You nod without thinking, hating yourself for even feeling what you’re feeling right now. A glittery red ornament hangs from your index finger as you try to find the right branch to hang it on -- and while your mind wanders all over the place.

“Clearly not,” your mom replies. “But alright.” She turns and reaches into a different box, picking up one of the golden jingle bells that she always hides deep within the tree each year. When you were younger, she’d hide them without you seeing, and then on Christmas Eve you’d have to search the tree for them before you could open one present before going to sleep.

You snort a laugh, always loving her way of getting you to open up: sarcasm. “It’s just Aaron.”

“Aaron?”

“Texting me,” you explain, looking down at the glitter coating your fingertips from the ornaments.

“Aren’t you going to reply?” She asks, grabbing another jingle bell.

“Technically he’s the one replying from earlier today.”

“Okay…”

You sigh. Time to cave. “He invited me to a Christmas party this weekend.”

Your mom doesn’t even try to hide her excitement or her wide grin. “Really? That’s great!”

Is it? You want to ask, but you stop yourself. “Yeah,” you shrug. “I guess so. It’ll be nice to hang out with him more.” You pause, finally hanging the small glittery red ornament on the tree that you’ve been idly holding for the past two minutes. “Apparently a friend of his is hosting it and basically told him he wouldn’t be allowed inside without a plus one.” You chuckle quietly, knowing Aaron had to have rolled his eyes when his friend told him that.

“So it’s...a date, then?”

“What? No,” you shake your head. “No, no. Not a date. He didn’t phrase it that way.”

“Sweetheart, plus one implies date.”

“Who says?”

“Everyone!” Your mom laughs. “Bringing a plus one to a wedding is usually a casual date, if not bringing your significant other along.”

“This isn’t a wedding, it’s just a Christmas get together.”

“Same difference.”

“Well, I think you’re doing that thing again where you try to plant seeds in my brain for things that are unnecessary,” you raise an eyebrow at her when she avoids eye contact, so you know you’ve caught her red-handed. “All that aside,” you sigh. “I’m over him. It’s been so long. If something was going to happen, it would have already.”

“Whatever you say,” she shrugs indifferently, grabbing the final jingle bell to hide in the top of the tree. For a brief moment, you wish you hadn’t been watching where she hid them, so you could do the search on Christmas Eve one more time.

+++

You bump into Aaron one more time, two days later, at the same coffee shop.

“Back for more?” He teases as he slides into the seat across from you, another black coffee in his right hand.

You’re sitting at the table the two of you call home with yet another peppermint mocha sitting in front of you and your laptop. More job hunting is the task for today, even though you’re ready to give up and just pick it back up after the New Year. It’s not like your mom is making you pay rent, and you have enough in savings to help with groceries (without her knowledge, of course, because she refuses to let you pay for anything) and buy your own coffees. But, you decided to give it one last go today.

That is, until Aaron slid into the seat in front of you. Now, you close your laptop and place it back in your bag. “Just needed some fuel for more job hunting,” you grin. “What are you doing here?”

“I took off for lunch for once and thought I might find you here.”

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows. “Were you seeking me out, Hotchner?”

“Maybe a little,” he admits with a shy smile. “Are you still good for tomorrow?”

“As long as you are,” you nod. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at five, if that’s good?”

“Perfect,” you smile. “Are you ready to introduce me to your friends?”

“Depends,” he exhales exasperatedly. “Are you ready to meet them?”

“They can’t be that bad.”

“They might be. If you aren’t used to them.” He pauses. “They don’t know you’re coming, by the way.”

“What?” You almost laugh. “Why not?”

“I told them I was bringing someone, but I didn’t feel like hearing it all week about who I was bringing.” He pauses again, like he’s holding something back, and then he lets it out. “They know all about you.”

You blink. “They do?”

“Yeah,” he smiles gently. “I talk about you all the time.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No you don’t. There’s no way.”

“You’ll believe it tomorrow,” he chuckles. “I’m sure they’ll try to embarrass me.”

“I-I mean...what do you even say about me?”

He shrugs. “That you were my best friend in high school and...that I missed you and wondered what you were up to these days, and how we used to hang out here.” He looks around the shop, then back to you and your bewildered expression. “What?” He laughs. “You didn’t talk to your friends about me?”

“No, I did,” you laugh quietly. But I said different things. And most of the time I was crying because I missed you, especially my first year of college when my roommate tried to get me to go on a double date with her boyfriend and his roommate, but I refused and had to confess that I wasn’t over you and that you broke my heart, and I was such a mess that she brought ice cream and chocolate back after their date.

But you don’t say any of that. Obviously.

“I just didn’t expect you to even...think about me, I guess,” you finally spit out, still shaking your head. “I mean...we haven’t talked since high school, I figured you’d forgotten or moved on, at least. Especially since you had Haley.”

Aaron’s expression softens and turns sad, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t know you thought any of that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you wave his worry away. “It’s years ago. Water under the bridge.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. Then, he says, “Haley was jealous of you, you know.”

You immediately look up from your mocha, your eyes wide in shock. “She was what?”

“Oh yeah,” Aaron laughs. “Devastatingly jealous of you. She swore we were dating or that I was in love with you or something.”

Or something. “Wow,” you chuckle, trying to mask your hurt as much as possible. “Why did she even think that?”

You know why. You know exactly why. Because before her, you and Aaron were attached at the hip. You sat together during lunch, walked each other home, hung out at the coffee shop, went to school functions together (well, you’d actually go with a big group, but you two always ended up together anyway), and so on and so forth. Anyone would’ve been an idiot to not assume you two were dating.

“We were so close,” he shrugs. “She said she was so surprised when I asked her to be my girlfriend because she swore I was dating you. She actually asked me that, when I gave her the flowers. She said, “What about Y/N?” And I said, “Y/N? She’s just my best friend.” And she didn’t believe me.”

“That’s so crazy,” you say, but you’re really thinking back to that day you and Aaron had decided to meet up here and hang out after so long. When Haley crashed the hangout. When she locked eyes with you and smirked before pulling him back in for another kiss.

She was jealous. She was jealous and she knew exactly what she was doing that day.

Aaron’s phone starts ringing and he sighs heavily, pulling it out. He almost declines it, but then stops himself. “It’s the boss,” he says. “My boss. I’ve gotta take this. I’ll text you later?”

“Sure,” you smile, knowing he might forget or get too busy to think about it. But that’s okay. “Good luck with the phone call.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. “I’ll need it.” And then he brings his phone up to his ear. “Agent Hotchner,” he says, and you hate that you find it so hot.

+++

You almost cancel with Aaron a dozen times before 2p.m.

You blame the conversation the two of you had yesterday. For some reason, the thought of Haley being jealous of you had never crossed your mind. Because to you, it was so obviously the other way around. Of course, you weren’t vocal about your jealousy, but you were certain she knew. Not that it was the other way around.

Old feelings have already resurfaced, which is bad enough, but the talk about Haley and about how Aaron’s friends know all about you made things worse. Especially the latter.

Why would he talk about you so much if the two of you hadn’t spoken in years? Not even years, but like an entire decade. Why would he still talk about you and think about you that much?

You have dwelled over those questions since he left the coffee shop yesterday.

But now, you have no idea what to wear, and Aaron will be here any minute. You’re assuming the attire is casual, not fancy, since it’s just a get together with his friends -- who all happen to be his team of agents. FBI agents. Because he’s just casually the Unit Chief of the BAU.

It still baffles you. He wanted to be a lawyer. Not in the FBI. God.

He’s still your Aaron. That’s what shocks you the most. He’s experienced law school, marriage, practicing law, working for the FBI, becoming a Unit Chief, divorce, and yet he’s still the Aaron Hotchner you were best friends with in high school.

You wonder if you’re still the girl he was best friends with in high school. Or if you’ve changed so drastically that he doesn’t see you that way anymore.

You take a deep breath, going back to digging through the many boxes of clothes that you have yet to unpack. You need a sweater or something. That’s safe enough, right? It’s too cold for a dress, and frankly, you’re not in the mood for wearing one, anyway.

Finally, you find the sweater you were looking for. You tug it over your head, figuring your jeans are fine enough. You’ll wear some low heels to make it look like you put in a little more effort.

Your quick thinking is to your benefit because the doorbell rings almost as soon as you’re done doing the clasp on your second heel.

But because your mom is quicker than you, she’s already opened the door and let Aaron in before you can make it downstairs. And by the time you are coming down the stairs, Aaron is sitting on the couch with your mom, making idle conversation.

“Hey,” you smile at him, resisting the urge to glare at your mom. “Ready?”

“If you are,” he nods, standing to his feet.

When he turns, you shoot your mom a look. “We’ll be back later.”

“You’re not in high school,” your mom laughs. “You two have fun for as long as you like.”

“I know,” you say. “But I also know you’ll wait up until I get back.”

“And you can’t stop me,” she replies pointedly.

Aaron laughs at the two of you, your banter just as he remembers from all those years ago. Neither of you have changed one bit.

After a final moment of bickering, you bid your mom goodbye and leave with Aaron.

In the car, you ask, “Have you told them about me coming yet?”

From the driver’s seat, he shakes his head. “No, so prepare yourself for a lot of questions.”

“I think you’re the one that’ll be in hot water, but alright,” you chuckle. “I can hear them now. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her!’”

He laughs loudly. “That’s not a bad impression, actually.”

“Why, thank you,” you smirk. “It’s a hidden talent of mine.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you share a grin as he keeps driving.

+++

After some time -- long enough that you were beginning to wonder where he’s taking you -- Aaron finally turns into a subdivision. But it’s still not what you were expecting.

You assumed FBI agents must make good money, but not this good. This is a mansion. It’s massive. There has to be at least six bedrooms in there, maybe more.

“Is your friend a millionaire or something?”

Aaron chuckles, “Maybe. Probably. Maybe more.”

“More?” Your eyes widen. “Wow.” And then Aaron pulls into the driveway. “Wow.”

He puts the car in park and says, “Try not to look too surprised. Dave won’t shut up about the house if you get him started.”

“What if I want to hear everything?” You ask, scrambling out of the car to look up at the house. “Jesus Christ.” Then you whip your head around to look at Aaron exasperatedly. “Does your house look like this?”

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “No. This is too big. Dave’s crazy for buying it.”

“He’s definitely insane,” you nod. “I mean, what do you even need a house this big for?”

Aaron shrugs. “Christmas parties, I guess.” He pauses, holding out his arm for you. “Ready to face the lions?”

You roll your eyes through a laugh, loosely holding onto his arm. “Quit being so dramatic. I bet it’ll be just fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Aaron replies. Because truthfully, he is a little worried that they might scare you off. They have a habit of doing that.

The two of you walk up to the front door, and you try your best to act like you’ve been in the general vicinity of a house this big before. Dave must be a really good friend of Aaron’s, because instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Aaron twists the doorknob and walks right in with you on his arm.

“Dave’s making pasta,” Aaron whispers, smelling the air. He shuts the door gently, wanting to surprise the team as much as possible.

You sniff the air, too, smiling happily. “Smells really good. Is that carbonara?”

“Good nose,” a voice says from the kitchen.

“That’s Dave,” Aaron chuckles, walking you down the hall toward the smell.

The team’s eyes all widen dramatically and comically when Aaron Hotchner steps inside the kitchen with a woman on his arm.

“Well, hello,” one of them says, sliding off the stool at the counter to saunter over to you. He’s all suave and swagger.

“Derek Morgan, this is Y/N,” Aaron introduces you quickly, knowing the reaction your name will get.

“Hold up,” Derek pauses, glancing between you and Aaron. “Y/N? As in the Y/N?”

“I don’t know about being the Y/N, but that is my name,” you laugh. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Derek says, a hand over his heart to add to the sincerity. “Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“Getting a doctorate,” you shrug, only now realizing that your hand is still holding onto Aaron’s arm, but he doesn’t seem fazed by it either, so you don’t move.

“Oh, alright,” Derek chuckles. “Hey Reid, we’ve got another doctor here.”

The man in question, Reid, looks up from the book he was reading with furrowed eyebrows. “Hi.” He waves.

“Hey,” you wave back. “What’re you reading?”

“War and Peace. In Russian, though.”

“In-- Wow, okay.”

“He’s a genius,” Morgan explains.

“I see that,” you chuckle.

Aaron finishes the introductions for you. “That’s JJ, handles the press for us because none of us want to do it.”

“He’s not wrong,” JJ replies with a laugh. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” you smile.

“You met Reid, his first name’s Spencer,” Aaron supplies, and Reid is too far gone in the book again to notice. “This is Emily Prentiss.”

“And I have been dying to meet you,” Emily says. “You are exactly how he described.”

“In a good way, I hope?” You laugh nervously.

She nods. “Definitely.”

Aaron points to the other woman at the counter. She’s dressed in all sorts of crazy colors with glasses that match her outfit. And before he can introduce her, she says, “I’m Penelope Garcia, technology extraordinaire. I keep them out of trouble.”

“And we love you for it,” Derek adds.

“And this is Dave,” Aaron finishes.

“It is very nice to finally meet you,” Dave says, and actually shakes your hand. “Do you know how to make carbonara?”

“Yes, actually,” you say, earning a surprised look from Aaron. “I went through a phase when I was younger, wanting to make anything and everything that sounded good, so I’ve made this a few times. My mom loves it.”

Dave loves the sound of that. “Would you like to help me?”

You practically light up inside and out. “Seriously? I’d love to!”

“Oh, here we go,” Derek groans. “He’s roped her in.”

You ignore him, slipping away from Aaron to grab the other apron off the hook by the entrance to the kitchen. You slide your head through the loop and tie it at the back in a matter of seconds, too excited to contain it.

“I almost went to culinary school, you know,” you say to no one in particular, but Aaron is listening, and so is Dave.

“Why didn’t you?” Aaron asks.

You shrug. “Didn’t seem practical.” Which isn’t the real answer at all. The real answer is you got your heart broken and needed to do a complete 180 in life, so you did. Culinary school was out. Getting a doctorate was in. You turn on the water in the sink and begin washing your hands. “What do you need me to do?”

For the next hour, you help Dave make the carbonara, occasionally answering any questions Aaron’s friends have for you.

Aaron pours you a glass of wine and sits at the counter, watching you cook. You look more at peace than he’s seen you since a few days ago when he first bumped into you again.

You catch him looking at you more than a handful of times. It feels good. Spending the evening with his friends, his team, with him. You’ve missed spending time with him more than anything else.

Dave serves up the carbonara, telling you to sit down since you helped so much already. You don’t make him ask twice.

+++

After dinner, everyone moves into the living room, scattering on the various couches and chairs. Reid has finished reading War and Peace, so the book sits discarded on one of the coffee tables.

You take the spot on the couch next to Aaron, careful not to spill your wine. Penelope sits on the other side of you, with Derek on her other side, which all but forces you to move closer to Aaron, and something about the look on Penelope’s face tells you it was done on purpose.

You’re not exactly complaining, though. With a full stomach and a fresh glass of wine, Aaron’s presence is even warmer than before. You pay no mind when he shifts his left arm, stretching it over the back of the couch and allowing you to scoot closer, your legs pressed against each other’s.

The conversation continues, and somehow the subject of relationships is brought up.

“Yeah, why was I the only one asked to bring someone?” Aaron asks. “I’d like to see all of you find a last minute date.”

Another warm rush goes through your body at the word date. This is a date. Alright then.

“I think you did just fine,” Dave says, nodding to you. “Don’t you?”

You shrug, not sure of what to make of it. “I’m having fun, so I guess so.”

“See?” Dave gives Aaron a look. “You did fine.”

Aaron gives his friend a tired glare. “Only because she happened to be back from getting her degrees. Otherwise, I would’ve been stuck.”

“Nah, man, you could’ve called Beth.”

You feel Aaron tense next to you, but you aren’t sure if he tensed up or if you did. Maybe both. Probably both. You weren’t aware there was someone else.

“Who’s Beth?” You ask as casually as possible, ignoring the heated glares Penelope, JJ, and Emily alike are sending Derek. Seriously, Derek would be dead three times over right now if looks could be deadly.

Aaron shrugs before answering you. “Her and I dated briefly last year.”

You nod slowly, trying not to seem hurt or upset or anything by this because it’s ridiculous of you to be fighting back tears, but you can’t help it.

It’s high school, goddamnit, it’s fucking high school all over again.

The topic of conversation shifts thanks to Reid being the endless supplier of random facts. One question about Russian from Emily and he’s taking over, washing the awkwardness away in two languages.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well for you as it does for everyone else.

You set your wine glass down on the table and tell Penelope you’re going to use the bathroom. You have no clue where it is, but she doesn’t know that.

Aaron does. And Aaron hears the tone of voice you use.

He waits until you’re down the hall before he stands to follow you, foregoing any explanation to his friends. They already know what he’s doing.

Aaron’s suspicions are correct when he hears the front door close and sees your coat no longer hanging next to his on the hook by the door. He grabs his and only gets one arm through a sleeve before he’s opening the door, eyes searching the premises for you.

Thankfully, he finds you after two seconds, and his racing heart slows a little. You’re standing by the reindeer lights on Dave’s front lawn. Your coat is only hanging on your shoulders, something you’ve always done since high school when you were upset.

“It feels more like a blanket,” you had told him one day. “Blankets are more comforting than jackets.”

He doesn’t see the difference, but you do, and that was enough for him.

He has both arms through the sleeves by the time he’s next to you. He gently touches your arm to get your attention, adding a soft, “Hey,” for good measure.

You turn your head at the sound, having already known he was coming because you heard the front door open. In the back of your mind, you had wanted him to follow you out here, but now that he’s done it, you aren’t so sure this is what you wanted.

You wanted to ignore the feeling. Get it to disappear on its own. Survive the night, then never talk to him again. You were heartbroken, but it was better when you weren’t speaking to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says softly. “Beth and I haven’t spoken since our last date a year ago. It was only three dates. We weren’t serious at all.” He pauses. “I have no idea why Derek said that. He doesn’t think before he speaks sometimes.”

You nod, not having it in you to laugh at Aaron’s small jab, even though he is entirely correct. Derek is a quick thinker with a sharp wit, but you can see how it might backfire sometimes. Like tonight.

You believe Aaron, you really do. But it’s so hard. “Did you love her?”

Aaron is stunned for a moment, but says, “No. I don’t think I did.”

“Okay.” You shake your head, looking down at the grass. “I’m just trying to figure out why Derek would’ve brought her up if...if you guys dated so briefly.”

Aaron sighs. “I don’t know.”

“And is this a date?” You blurt, finally finding the courage to get that one out. “Because if it is, I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?”

You shake your head again, trying to find the right words, but they always seem out of reach. “Just...tell me this won’t be like high school.”

This time Aaron is too stunned to form a real answer. “What?”

“Please,” you sound like you’re about to cry and you feel so pathetic that you wish you had never agreed to come tonight. But you’re here anyway. “I was in love with you then, and I’m still in love with you now, but I can’t do that again. So if this is a just friends thing and always will be, I need you to tell me before I hurt myself all over again.”

Aaron can’t believe his ears. He swears he heard you wrong. He must have. “You were in love with me in high school, too?”

“Yes-- Wait, too? What do you mean too?” Now you’re looking at him, eyes wide in confusion, shock, every emotion possible. “Too?”

“I was in love with you, Y/N,” he chuckles, reaching for your hands. “I thought you just saw me as an older brother. That’s why I never...said anything.”

“What?” You breathe, letting him thread his fingers through yours. “Are you serious? You better not be pulling my leg, Hotchner. Don’t do that to me.” You tug on his hands for emphasis, giving him a stern look.

“I’m not joking,” he says, taking a step closer. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”

“Oh my god,” you say, disbelief a powerful thief of words. “I can’t believe… So you went after Haley because…”

“Because I heard from one of her friends that she had a crush on me,” he admits. “I did love her, but not as much as I loved you. Never as much as I loved you.”

You don’t know what else to do or say. He looks so beautiful in this light that it hurts, and now he’s saying words you never thought you’d ever hear.

“Do you forgive me?” He asks. “For breaking your heart?”

“Only if you forgive me for breaking yours,” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “I broke my own. I should’ve told you how I felt.” He pauses. “I even talked to you about Haley all the time. Is that why you didn’t say goodbye to me?”

You nod. “It sounds so stupid now, but I was so hurt.”

“I’m an idiot,” he laughs. “I’m the dumbest fool to ever walk the Earth.”

“We both are,” you correct him, taking a step closer. It’s cold out here, but he’s warm. He’s always been so warm. Like home.

And you-- you’ve always been who Aaron thinks of when he thinks about being happy. It’s always been you. A moment like this, and a thousand others. He wants them all. And to think, you do too.

His lips meet yours in a long-awaited kiss, cold noses bumping against one another, his warm hands holding your face, your chilled fingers finding their home on his neck, stealing his warmth.

From the window, the team watches, and Emily exchanges money with Derek.

[dracowars]

obsessed | tom riddle

pairing: tom x reader

word count: 2,9k

summary: where y/n dislikes tom's obsession of becoming the dark lord

a/n: my first tom imagine for @creeping156tin !!! i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

warnings: angst, claustrophobia, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

A loud, painful scream suddenly pulls you out of your deep, peaceful sleep and you shoot up from your bed, your dorm room almost completely wrapped in darkness except for a few dim candlelights.

"What was that?!", your roommate asks you in fear and lights up all the lamps in your room with a spell. The other two girls also look around anxiously and neither of you know an answer to the question.

Until you suddenly hear numerous voices and steps outside your room and you quickly jump up, your friends accompanying you as you quietly open the heavy door. Carefully, you peer out of the narrow gap, only to see how all the other students in your house are running around in front of it, frightened.

"What is going on here?", you ask one of the students who you get hold of first, and look at him expectantly but somehow also a little bit scared.

"Somebody is supposed to have died!", he answers you shortly and as fast as you stopped him, he sprints off again, following the others.

Taking a look at your friends, who are still standing close behind you at the door, you can see the pure fear in their eyes. And even though they do not look like they want to leave your dorm any time soon, they nod understandingly as a sign that they still want to come with you. After all, there have always been a lot of rumours going around Hogwarts that were ultimately false anyway.

Hastily grabbing your cloaks in the colors of your house, you follow the other students out into the dark and cold corridors of Hogwarts. One of your friend is clinging onto your left arm while you are busy seeing where everyone is going.

Although you are never really afraid of anything, you now have a very uncomfortable feeling in your stomach area. The high-pitched, deafening scream from earlier still gives you an incredible amount of goosebumps all over your body and thousands of questions fly through your head.

If someone was actually killed, then who? And above all, by whom?

The four of you continue to follow the crowd, which already seems pretty strange to you as this succeeds without further problems because no teacher is patrolling the corridors like usually, and you finally stop in a long, illuminated hallway. Half of the school is probably in this certain hallway right now and romps into a big pile.

The feeling of fear is suddenly overshadowed by worry as your thoughts wander off while you get closer to the crowd. They wander off to Tom Riddle, your best friend.

The questions where he is and whether he is okay or not buzz through your mind and your knees become much shakier than before.

What if something happened to him?

Not wanting to further think about the possible worst case scenarios, you continue on your way. Everyone in the crowd is whispering wildly and you can only pick up a few snippets of words here and there that do not help you at all. The longer you stay among them, the worse you get. However, you are abruptly freed from this bad feeling when a loud shout echoes through the corridor all of a sudden.

"All students have to go back to their rooms immediately! There is nothing to see here", you recognize Armando Dippet's, the headmaster's, voice in the exclamation that silenced everyone.

But due to the fact that the headmaster himself is here right now, the feeling of uncertainty returns inside of you because it cannot mean anything good if he has to be here at this late hour. Apparently not only you think that way, because suddenly the murmuring around you gets louder again.

Across the hall you spot Dippet and several other teachers, including Dumbledore, who are currently trying to hold the students back. At first it is quite difficult for you to see from what exactly they are holding them back, but in the next moment you notice the door to the girls' bathroom and how it opens.

An unknown person steps out of and you catch a glimpse through the now opened door to a stretcher with a white cloth on top of it. You have to swallow hard at the sight, but you do not have time to see more as you are rudely pushed aside.

"It's Myrtle!"

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened!"

The teachers from each house immediately begin to bring the students back to their common rooms after the exclamations, which is why you are pushed around even more now. Meanwhile you have already lost your friends in the crowd and the whispering around you is getting louder and louder with each second, so that you slowly but surely lose your orientation.

But suddenly everything around you falls silent when your gaze lands on him.

"Tom!", you loudly call out his name and try to somehow fight your way through the crowd. However, he does not seem to have heard you and just keeps staring in the direction of the bathroom before turning away to walk into the other direction.

Finally being able to free yourself from the crowd, you take a deep breath and follow your boyfriend as quickly as possible so that you do not lose him in the labyrinth of corridors and staircases.

"Tom! Wait!", you yell after him when you spot him at the end of an empty hallway. He flinches briefly before he turns around and recognizes you, relief written over his face.

Your steps echo loudly from the walls as you fall around his neck and deeply inhale his scent, calming you down right away.

"What are you doing here, Y/N? You should be on your way back to your dorm by now", he says with such tension in his voice that you immediately break the hug and get away from him, looking at him worriedly.

"What is it?", you ask him directly, his expression how you have never seen it before. Kind of obsessed.

"Nothing. What should be, sweetheart? I am fine", he assures you and places his hand against your cheek, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead which is apparently meant to calm you down. You softly press his hand back on your cheek with your own as he tries to loosen it.

"Somebody was murdered, Tom. How can you be doing fine? That is terrible!", you express frightened and look deep into his eyes, in which you can see nothing but a crazy twinkle. "There is something else that is bothering you. I can see it, Tom. Tell me."

Finally removing his hand from you, he stares at you for a moment, completely speechless. It just does not go into his head how you can see through him so easily, how you can detect everything within seconds. He was never used to beeing looked after by someone, but since you came into his life, his otherwise dark and cold soul started to feel a little bit brighter and warmer with each minute he has spent with you so far.

"Talk to me, Tom. They said something about the Chamber of Secrets. Have you not been talking about it for two weeks?", you mention and want to step closer to him again, but he immediately takes a step back and lets the cold of the night envelop your body.

"You wouldn't understand anyway", he scoffs, averting his gaze from you while convulsively clenching his hands into fists and all of a sudden he no longer looks like the Tom Riddle with whom you fell so deeply in love with.

"What did you do, Tom?", you shakily breathe out, fear flowing through your body because of the fact that might really have something to do with this. Since his response is taking an unnaturally long time to come, tears already form in your eyes, but your voice is failing you as you try to speak up.

"I finally made it, Y/N. I finally opened the Chamber of Secrets", he admits and your breath gets caught in your throat, the satisfied smile on his lips disturbing you. "I can finally sleep in peace again. It was amazing, Y/N!"

Staring at him in disbelief as he is basically enjoying what he has done right in front of your eyes, a tear finds its way down your cheek and you barely dare to say your next words.

"Please tell me that you have nothing to do with her death", you utter, hurt evident in your voice, and look at him with a heartbreaking expression on your face.

"It is not my fault that this stupid girl was in that bathroom, but believe me I would do it again every damn time", he explains in all honesty and tries to convince you that nothing is wrong with his actions. "I would open the chamber again every time, Y/N. I knew you wouldn't understand!"

In fact, yes, you could not for the life of you understand. None of his words make any sense to you. You have had this conversation many times already in the past. And every time it ended the same way: you were deeply hurt and he just left. For him everything revolves around his dream of becoming a Dark Lord who rules the whole wizarding world.

"Tom, you killed someone! Of course I do not understand! What do you expect from me? That I am happy for you?", you yell at him, now with much more anger than sadness in your voice.

"Well, yes. That would be an idea for once instead of trying to reprimand me again and again", he rolles his eyes in annoyance and gives you a derogative look.

"All I ever wanted was to protect you from doing something stupid that you may never be able to to reverse, but obviously I miserably failed", you sob as you cannot longer keep your tears under control.

"I never asked you to", he hisses with no emotion.

"I have always taken care of you and this is how you thank me!?", you angrily scream in his face, but he does not even move an inch. "Stop this stupid rambling about becoming a Dark Lord or.. Or otherwise I will never talk to you again, Tom."

"Then leave! I don't need you. Get out of my life!", he yells at you when he can no longer hold back his emotions and you feel your heart break in two, but do as he pleases and leave without another word.

Two weeks later and almost no one talks about the incident anymore, even though a fellow student was brutally killed. However, it is more than fine for you if it means that you will not be reminded of him and his hurtful words towards you every time.

"Hey, Y/N. You look so pale today. Is everything alright?", your friend asks you as she worriedly looks at your still full plate, which you have not touched yet, just like the weeks before.

With a forced smile you nod at her, signalising that you are fine, when in reality you are anything but fine. You have never felt this bad in your life.

Maybe you and Tom were just best friends and not meant to be, but you always felt a different kind of feeling towards him that was definetely beyond friendship. And for a while you even imagined that he could maybe feel the same way.

Oh, and how wrong you were.

Listlessly moving your meanwhile cold food around on your plate, you listen to the conversation of your group of friends who are animatedly talking about today's Quidditch game. But somehow your brain cannot process any of their words correctly since your thoughts keep wandering back to him.

You have not seen him since the terrible incident, neither in class nor in the hallways. Even though you forbid yourself it, you still worry about him despite everything that happened between you. You do not want to give him the satisfaction that he is still continuously on your mind, but you just cannot help it.

"Y/N! Will you be at the Quidditch game today as well? We want to make a detour to the lake afterwards", one of your friends asks you enthusiastically and without really thinking about it, you agree with a nod. A little distraction will not hurt you.

Later in the day, after your class in Muggle Studies, you make your way back to your dorm to prepare for the Quidditch game later. Stepping up the stairs you spontaneously decide that you want to let your thoughts dangle a bit more so you make a detour through Hogwarts to get to the courtyard to get some fresh air.

With your books tucked under your arm, you run down the stairs and slowly walk through the long corridor to the clock tower. With your gaze focused on the deserted hallway in front of you, you are about to reach the junction to the courtyard when a person steps into your field of vision. A person you did not expect.

At the other end of the corridor is none other than Tom himself, who, just like you, abruptly stopped walking when he spotted you on the other side. For a short moment you stare at each other from the distance.

This moment does not last long when the painful memories appear in your head again. You lower your gaze to the floor, avoiding eye contact, press your books against your chest as if they could protect you as a shield, and turn to the courtyard.

Fortunately, you do not hear any footsteps behind you and you assume that he does not dare to follow you, which is why you slow down your pace and take in a deep breath when you arrive outside. There is no one around, only the birds happily chirp over your head, until you hear loud steps behind you all of a sudden.

"Y/N!", he calls you and you freeze in your movement, your heart racing.

With shaking hands you turn to him, despite the countless warnings in your head. Tom is only a few meters away, a sad look on his flawless face.

You do not say a word, just wait for what he has to say to you. If he even has anything to say at all.

"I am so glad I found you", he exhales heavily and runs his hand through his brown hair. You immediately notice the dried blood on his hand.

"You are bleeding", the words pour out of of you unintentionally, obviously showing him that you still care about him after all. You prevent yourself from thinking about the cause of his injury.

"O-Oh, yes. Well, that is not that bad", he laughs nervously, but your eyes stick to his injured hand until he hides it behind his back. "We need to talk, Y/N."

"What is there to still talk about? I have nothing to say to you."

"I know", Tom sighs, not quite sure what to say himself. Silence spreads between you again until you break it with a loud scoff.

"Good. If you have nothing to say either, then I can go", you accuse him before walking past him, but you are promptly grabbed by the wrist and pulled back.

"I love you", he confesses out of nowhere and even though these are the words that you always wanted to hear so bad, tears form in your eyes and you angrily swat your hand out of his grasp.

"That is not fair, Tom! You can't just tell me something like that after you broke my heart and destroyed our friendship!", you whine and quickly wipe the tears away as he gets closer to you.

"I was so damn stupid, Y/N. I did not know what I had until I lost it", he explains dejectedly and watches how one of your tears slowly rolls down your cheek. "I am so sorry. I am not worth crying for."

"It is too late for that now", you sob and want to turn away again when he suddenly grabs your face with his hands and pulls you into a gentle kiss that says more that words could ever express. And the worst part of it is that you do not fight against it, you just let it happen. You might even enjoy it a little even though this is definetely not how you imagined your first kiss with him to be.

"I really love you, Y/N. I realized it now", he whispers after he broke the kiss, a small smile on his lips because you did not reject him.

"Tom-", you try to answer, but he stops you by laying his finger on your lips.

"I know what you want to say. I closed the Chamber of Secrets again and finished thinking about becoming a Dark Lord once and for all. Your are much more important to me than that", he tells you and you can cleary hear out the sincerity in his voice.

He is back. Your Tom is finally back.

Happily, you jump around his neck and tightly squeeze him, wettening his cloak, and in the next moment you punch him hard against his chest. Laughing, he takes your hand in his and places a kiss on top of it.

"Now please tell me what you did with your hand and do not lie to me, I warn you", you admonish him while he lets you take his hand to have a closer look at his small injury.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said that I wanted to get you flowers, right? But funny thing is that it is exactly what I tried."