#like I’m looking up the same words to double check definitions and having a grand old time

[simplyghosting]

Dictionary/thesaurus desktop app my beloved

Select and hold word and click “look up” option on mobile my adored

[bingwriterxo]

the shakespeare exhibit - drabble 1

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which tara goes to your apartment for the first time

warnings: none

word count: 600+

author's note: this is set immediately before chapter 3. a little insight into R's life

previous part | next part

No fucking way, Tara thought as she stared at your apartment building. It was not what she had expected, though she wasn’t sure what she did expect--maybe something more broke-college-student-like, or a building along the lines of ‘my parents are paying for this, but it is New York City, so they found a place with the cheapest rent’. 

However, where you lived was neither of these things, and that was made clear by the doorman out front (who was watching her with a close eye as she simply stared in awe) and the fact that the building itself was fancy. 

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and scrambled to her messages with you, double checking the address. Sure enough, she was definitely at the right place, so she pocketed her phone and took a deep breath in, building up the courage to speak to the doorman. 

“May I help you?” he asked when she stood just feet away.

“Uh, I’m here for apartment 415?”

He nodded. “Yes, Miss Y/L/N informed me that you would be coming.” He gestured to the revolving glass door. “Right that way. You will find the elevator in the hall to your left.”

“Okay.” Tara offered him a smile. “Thank you.”

She pushed through the door and marveled at the lobby, which was not at all like her own apartment building. Your lobby was all grand chandeliers and friendly faces and people dressed to the nines walking around. Is she, like, secretly rich? No, she’d have told me. Right?

She went down the hall on her left, went up the elevator, and searched for your apartment. It wasn’t difficult to find, and she gulped as she knocked on the door that was labeled with a golden 415.

You were quick to answer, a shining smile on your face as you pulled the door open. 

“Hi,” you said. Oh, that voice, she thought, grinning. “Come on in.”

She had assumed--though she supposed she really shouldn’t have--that your apartment would be just as grand as the rest of the building. And, to an extent, it was. It was an open floor plan with a large kitchen attached to the living room and a few doors that led to other rooms. 

But, where the rest of the building held a certain type of sophistication and grandeur, your apartment did not. Instead, it was littered with statue busts and old paintings and tapestries and books upon books that were stacked in any place they could be stacked. Tara felt as though she had just walked into a museum rather than your home. 

“Woah,” she said, trying to take everything in at once. She is such a little nerd! “This is…”

You glanced around shyly. “Yeah.” You chuckled. “I know it’s a bit much, but, well”--you shrugged--“this is everything I like. The busts are all literary figures, and the paintings are scenes from novels or plays, and the tapestries are the same.” You looked at her. “What do you think?”

I think that you vomited your personality all over this place, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. “It’s beautiful.” She stepped farther in, looked at the busts up close, ran her hand over a few of the tapestries, and then came face to face with a framed letter written in nearly illegible penmanship. She turned to you. “This is…?”

“Oh! That’s a letter that Dylan Thomas wrote to my grandfather. They were friends, back in the day.” She blinked once, twice, and you giggled. “Dylan Thomas was a famous Welsh Poet. He wrote ‘And death shall have no dominion’.”

Tara nodded. “Right. Obviously.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and furrowed her eyebrows. “And you got all this stuff…how?” 

“Oh.” You glanced down sheepishly, a blush painting your cheeks. “My family comes from…money,” you confessed. 

“But you’re paying for your tuition?”

“Yeah, well, my parents and I cut a deal. They pay for”--you gestured around you--“all of this, and I pay for my tuition.”

Financially responsible. Noted. “Got it.”

You cleared your throat and held your hand out for her. “Should we get to studying?”

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Empowering listeners, the vibrant pop artist Lucy Crisp shares her new infectiously upbeat anthem ‘Locked Down’ laced with an inspiring message

Since her 2020 debut, Lucy Crisp has found herself pouring her infectious activism into songs that cannot help but delve deep within. As this Nottingham-based pop singer and songwriter uses her personal experience of living with Cystic Fibrosis as a core part of her empowerment, she seeks to create a safe space for her fans to feel comfortably vulnerable. Now sharing her second track from her upcoming debut EP ‘65 Roses’, Lucy proudly bares yet another parallel of sunny sound with more meaning seeping within in ‘Locked Down.’

Bright and vibrant in aura right from its shimmering beginnings, ‘Locked Down’ makes sure to shine into your eardrums straight from pressing play. Dancing in through a bedroom pop and synth pop daze, Lucy immediately clasps around you with a dominant scattered electronic beat you won’t be able to shake yourself free from. Slowly building with the addition of colourful drawn-out guitar strums, the easy-going lacing of sound entices you in and never lets you go. Complemented gorgeously with Lucy’s confidently soaring vocals, her clean and powerful words ensure they’ll be ringing through your mind long after pressing play, urging you sing along before you even know the words. Driving dominant beats climb in for the choruses push, a crash of momentum that’ll see you dancing along at full force. Allowing Lucy to stretch her vocals even more prominently, the chorus bursts from the seams and flows emphatically with the addition of heavenly backing vocal harmonies. Progressively building as things progress forwards, the track slowly incorporates more and more sparkling layers of sound, an arrangement of electronic subtleties made even more grand by their entwining. There’s not a second of ‘Locked Down’ you won’t feel completely inspired by, as Lucy serenades you with the most addictive of musical concoctions.

Filled with pick-me-up optimism, Lucy writes ‘Locked Down’ with an empowering message of feeling unstoppable despite any adversities. Without allowing any limitations to be placed upon her, Lucy found herself reflecting on her feelings amidst the COVID-19 lockdown as someone with a disability, striving to not allow anything to stop her thriving. As she opens with the all-too relatable line ‘I’ve been stuck in a game for the past two years, nothing has ever stayed the same’, Lucy not just delves into her own experiences but seeks you to do the same, allowing yourself the grace for going through an unexpected few years of tumultuous times. Finding herself longing for company, lyrics like ‘everyone disappeared, had to hold back the tears’ perhaps don’t just relate to COVID’s interjection but also the loss of her friends that have moved away and started anew. Double-edged nods like ‘I’m not the person I used to be’ carry both the sadness of what has been lost and the growth of who she has become all in one, stronger and self-empowered but in ways still mourning who she once was. Continuing ‘one day I’ll leave this town and nothing can stop me now’, Lucy finds herself looking within and not allowing anything to hold her back from what she wants. Refusing to be stuck behind while everyone else moves forward, Lucy embraces every part of herself and her identity, feeling only more fuelled by the adversities she faces that she continues to prove cannot restrict her immense talents from exceeding well above and beyond.

Check out ‘Locked Down’ here for a definite mood booster filled with contagious lyrics and technicolour sounds!

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[landinoandco]

A Game of Chess

Carlos Sainz x reader

Request from @leesuhnakamoto-krys "Carlos Sainz x reader fluff"

Warnings: fluff, a slight reference if you squint.

Word count: 2.2 k

Requests are open :)

This year - due to the current pandemic - there were to be two races in Austria, however to keep with the theme of ‘no two races the same’ they were to be called different things: the Styrian grand prix for the first race and the Austrian Grand Prix for the second. This weekend saw the first of the two and your boyfriend Carlos Sainz finished a respectable 6th place behind his former teammate and current best friend Lando Norris. 

The majority of the grid had decided to stay in the surrounding area, making the most of the time they had - not only to keep on training but to explore. 

Travelling the world with Carlos was a dream come true and you were so lucky to be able to do your job on the move - you were a travel blogger/vlogger and were pretty well known for it as well. A large following of people that enjoyed watching your weekly lifestyle and travel vlogs alongside the photography that came with it. 

It was the Monday following the race so Carlos had taken it as a rest day, you had woken up that morning in his arms, tracing circles on one of them as you both spoke about your plans for the day. 

“And a haircut is what I really need.” He said to you, as you moved a strand that had fallen into his eyes. 

“No, I like it long, you look more -” You paused. “Mature.” Giggling, you moved your hands up to run your fingers through his hair. He shook his head at you, a large smile plastered onto his face. He leaned forward onto his forearms, connecting your lips together for a brief second before pulling away and rolling out of bed. Leaving you, still huddled in all of the covers, watching him as he strode across the room to the hotel chest of drawers, pulling out two t-shirts; one of which he put on and the other being chucked in your general direction. 

“So, cariño, what is your plan for today?” Carlos asked, flopping onto the bed and looking up to you.

“I think I’m going to go and explore the town, some of my followers have recommended a few places so I think I am going to check those out, take a few photos-” You trailed off as he began to draw patterns onto the palm of your hand. You smiled fondly at him, you had met just before lockdown completely by chance after you bumped into him in a train station. He had asked for your number and feeling like he had given you no reason to say no, you did and as it turns out, it was the best decision of your life. “What is your plan for the day ahead, mi Amor.” 

“I think I am meeting Lando this afternoon at a café down the road. I’m going to teach him to play chess.” He said proudly, emphasising the word ‘chess.’ 

“Chess?” You questioned, reaching over for the top and putting it on. It was one of his old team McLaren t-shirts, you scoffed at his still apparent loyalty to the team; admittedly it was your favourite but Ferrari didn’t need to know that. 

“Yes.” Carlos stated, he then pointed at the t-shirt you were wearing. “I would recommend not leaving the hotel room with that t-shirt on. I don’t want to get into trouble.” He fought to keep the smile off of his lips. Your eyes lit up, “I wouldn’t even dream of it, mi Amor.”

You had agreed with Carlos that as soon as you had finished what you had set out to do that morning, you would meet him in the café alongside Lando. “Do you fancy playing a game of chess with me, later?” You had asked before you went your separate ways. 

Carlos gave a lopsided grin and kissed your forehead. “We will see, cariño, we will see.” With that he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked down the street. Styria was a beautiful town, a handful of buildings situated in the mass of rolling hills and mountain tops that covered the landscape for as far as the eye could see. 

You had walked up to a stone viewing point at the peak of the town, a small bench that overlooked the south past Styria and into the Austrian countryside.

You loved this time you got to yourself, it allowed for you to sit and reminisce; bathing in all of the memories that lead up to this point in your life. You thought back to the day Carlos asked you to move to Italy with him - due to him changing teams. It almost broke your relationship, the thought of leaving all of your family and friends behind in England but in the end you decided it was an adventure too thrilling to pass on...

It was a breezy summer evening in London, the clouds had blanketed the city and a faint rumble of the traffic could be heard from your apartment. Carlos had messaged you earlier that day, asking if he could talk to you when he got home - for the remainder of that afternoon nerves had settled comfortably in the pit of your stomach. At last you heard the unlocking of the door, your head whipped around to see a tired looking Carlos to fall through the door with a sigh. As soon as he looked up and saw you sat on the sofa, his eyes gleamed. “Mi amor.” He said tiredly, his brows knitted momentarily before he nodded his head. “Right, my text message.” You nodded unsure of where this conversation was heading. It was early days in your relationship so anything was possible. 

“I got an offer from Ferrari-” He started, making his way over to you, you watched him intently, nibbling on your lower lip. “It’s an offer that in this industry you don’t turn down, obviously there is a lot to consider because it would mean leaving McLaren and-” He sighed, “This country behind.” 

A line appeared between your brows, you didn’t speak for fear of interrupting his train of thought. He took your hand in his. 

“If I signed with Ferrari, I would have to move to Italy-” Your mouth made an ‘o’ shape. “Which is why I wanted to ask you if you would come with me.” 

You definitely didn’t expect him to ask this, any expression that was on your face before had been wiped as you took to staring. “I’m asking a big thing and obviously you don’t have to answer straight away.” He rushed in response to your dumbfounded expression. 

For the next few days - after that conversation - the atmosphere between the pair of you had become tense, you had decided to call your sister and explained the whole situation to her. In a nutshell she called you an idiot for not saying yes immediately.  

“I’ve been thinking-” You began to Carlos that evening . “I would love to move to Italy with you. It’s a good opportunity to really write our story, explore the world - together. It will be such a great adventure.” Carlos didn’t need to ask you twice and he enveloped you into his arms and span you around, meeting your lips with his. 

“I love you.” He said, placing his forehead on yours. That night was also the first time those three words were exchanged. “I love you too.” You replied sweetly, your lips brushing his as you did so. 

You smiled fondly at the memory. You were so lucky to have found Carlos - actually you found each other - you like to believe that it was the universe who had a hand in it. Carlos was your soulmate and you were honoured to be able to call him that. 

Deciding it was time you made your way back to him, you started on your journey back to the main town - down the steep, winding path, birds darting overhead and the chirp of crickets sounding in the hedgerows. 

You reached the café and as soon as you opened the door, you were hit with the smell of warm coffee, you went over to the counter and ordered yourself a latte - casting your gaze around the old fashioned shop, you were surprised to see that only a few people were sitting inside; an older couple, who had taken extreme interest in the pair you were here to see. You chuckled to yourself as the barista placed your drink onto the counter in front of you. 

“Drew quite the crowd earlier.” He leant over the counter, pointing to the pair, they were stuck in an intense game of chess and by the looks of it - Lando was winning. Carlos looked up, shaking his head as Lando moved another one of his pieces off of the board; as he did he noticed you standing there and waved you over. 

“Yes, I bet they did.” You chuckled, taking the drink and nodding ‘thanks’ to him. Carlos pulled a chair up for you and motioned to the chess board in anguish, “You will not believe it, mi Amor. He is beating me.” Lando was sat on the other side wearing a cocky grin and his arms crossed onto the table. 

“So what you are trying to tell me, Carli , is that you taught Lando too well and now he is beating you.” You pointed out, the corners of your eyes crinkled. Carlos only glared at you, sighing dramatically. Lando played incredibly well and did take the victory, punching his arms in the air as he called out ‘checkmate.’ 

“The student becomes the master.” He cheered, high fiving you and offered to shake Carlos’ hand but Carlos pouted and pushed it away with his index finger. “No. How on earth did you win? I’ve only just taught you.” He cried out. 

You looked at Lando as Lando looked at you, both fighting the urge to laugh. You couldn’t hold it in as you held onto the table - both doubling over. 

“I love you, Carli, I really do but - boy - are you a sore loser.” You managed to say. 

“Well, cheers, mate.” Lando said getting up, wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes. “I’m going to head off now. Dinner with Jon.” You waved as he left, fist bumping Carlos on his way past. 

“Do you fancy a game with me now?” You asked, your elbow was resting on the table so you leant on the heel of your palm. 

“On one condition.” Carlos said, setting the chess board back up, “As long as you promise not to beat me like Lando just did.” 

“Of course, mi Amor.” You said, a hint of mocking in your tone. You admired the way he scrunched up his nose as he concentrated, working out what his first move was going to be. 

“The aim of chess is to be in control of your opponent, you want to be able to trick them into doing exactly what you want them to do.” Carlos said, moving his first piece. “You have to play with dominance.” He added theatrically. 

“You want me to be dominant?” You repeated incredulously, a smirk toying with your lips. “Well, why didn’t you say so. After all this time-” 

“Mi Amor.” He gasped, lowering his voice. “Not like that -” He stammered, a pink flush rising up his neck. You only winked in reply and made your move. 

“Go on, tell me more about chess.” You urged him on, watching as he went to make his move. He paused, met your gaze and narrowed his eyes. You shrugged innocently and he carried on; his gaze softened as a reminiscent haze coated his eyes. 

“You know,” Carlos began, placing the chess piece down and resting both of his elbows onto the table. “When my dad first met my mum, he taught her how to play chess and they used to sit in the kitchen on a Sunday morning after church and play. It was then my mum who taught me, on the weekends when my dad was away racing; we used to sit in the kitchen together on a Sunday after church and play. It was always the highlight of my weekend.” You watched as he fondly spoke about his family, warmth filled your chest. 

“You teach me well then and maybe we could turn it into a tradition.” You spoke gently, reaching over the table to take his hand in yours. Awe transformed his face as he gazed at you. 

Many years later you would end up making it a tradition, as you taught your daughter how to play on a Sunday after church as she watched her daddy race. You would tell her the story every time you would go to play and every time you would think about how lucky you were to have bumped into that stranger in the train station. They say that you will find your soulmate when you least expect it and after all these years - you would have to agree. 

[hops-hunny]

Just a Flight Away

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Ilvermony!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Request N/A

Summary: Neville has a cutie who lives in America but no one seems to believe him.

Warnings: None! 

A/N: This isn’t a request but it’s based off of me rambling here and slightly off of the vibe telepatia by Kali Uchis gives off.

If there was one thing Neville was thankful was it was the absolute goddess he got to call his girlfriend. It was funny the way they first began talking to one another. (Y/n) had been trying to contact a friend at Hogwarts but after the long trip from Ilvermony to Hogwarts, her owl was quite exhausted and ended up bringing the letter to Neville instead. Neville saw the poor bird, giving it a bit of bird seed and water that he kept in the green house before he set off to find the rightful owner of the letter. Luckily he had 3rd period with the girl who thanked him before excitedly yanking the letter from his hands. When Neville went to go check on the owl, he saw that it had already left, leaving a heart shape in the bird seed.

After that day, Neville hadn’t really thought about the incident that much. Well, that was until he saw the same owl fly towards him with a letter in its mouth. He smiled fondly at it rubbing under its chin with his finger before going to give the letter back to the owl until he noticed it had his name on it.  He ripped it open, careful to not damage the envelope before reading the letter.

Dear Neviile,

Thank you so so so much for getting the letter to Gwen! Gwen is a good friend of mine who I had been missing dearly and if not for your kindness she would have never received my letter. 

As you may be able to tell from the seal on the letter, I attend Ilvermorny school of witchcraft and wizardry. I've heard of how grand and great the infamous Hogwarts is, is it true? How is England in general? I've never had the pleasure of traveling out of America.

Oh yes! The main point of this is as a thank you, I've attached a package of my favorite American sweets as a token of my gratitude. The package is enchanted which is why it's so small. To restore it to its original state, place it on a flat surface before tapping it with the tip of your wand.

Sincerely,

(Y/n) (L/n)

Neville felt his face grow warm at the girl's kindness. (Y/n). 'What a beautiful name..' he thought to himself before pulling out the galleon sized package from the envelope. He pushed aside a few plants on the table in front of it before placing the package down, tapping the top with his wand. He gasped, watching in amazement as he saw the package expand. Neville wasn't quite familiar with this enchantment, perhaps he'd ask her about it in his response. His cheeks turned a brighter red. Response?

Did she want to speak to him more? He didn't want to assume but by her letter and her asking questions, it made it clear that this wasn't the last exchange she wanted to have. Was this a prank? Were the Weasley twins up to this? There was only one way to tell. Neville reached a shaky hand forward, opening the package as he closed his eyes expecting something to pop out at him but when he opened his eyes there was nothing but a box of snacks he had never seen before. He let out a sigh of relief, ignoring the racing in his heart.

After that, Neville and the girl started to talk quite a bit. Months had turned into years and he couldn't have been happier. It felt nice to have someone he could talk to, someone far away from all the hustle and bustle of the castle. To her he wasn't the kid with unfortunate luck or the "cowardly" boy in Gryffindor. He was just Neville, her boyfriend. Neville, her kind boyfriend in another continent, far away. 

(Y/n) loved Neville just as much. It wasn't that she never had suitors approach her. In fact, she had quite a few. (Y/n) was what you could consider popular, not that she cared. She was kind, smart, and beautiful. Who wouldn't want that? However, she always felt like none of the men who'd approach her got her. They all just saw her as a beautiful woman instead of what she was, a normal girl deserving of love. That's why she liked Neville so much. No matter what he always treated her with the utmost respect and that hadn't stopped when they started to date either. 

When the two had first exchanged photos, Neville was stunned. He had been talking to that beautiful of a girl? He couldn’t believe it. It was as if Olivander himself had sculpted and carved her out of the best of wood. She had glowing (s/c) skin, soft healthy looking (h/c) (h/c) hair, and a smile that could compete with the sun on its brightest of days and win. And when he found out she was single? He would’ve been a fool not to make a move. Angels as sweet as (Y/n) didn’t come around that often. 

And although their relationship was as great as can be there was the underlying sadness: they lived across the world from one another. Every time either of them would see a couple hug or kiss in school, they’d feel a twinge of jealousy pierce their hearts. It wasn’t fair that the most perfect person in the world was off enjoying themselves in their respective countries. Although (Y/n) tried to ignore it, Neville was the type to bring it up. He’d describe in the most beautiful of words what he’d do if they were together. How he’d hold her in his arms and show her off to all of his friends. Where he’d take her on a date, the plants he wanted to show her as they were both herbology geeks. Meanwhile she’d end each of the letters discussing this topic with the same phrase as usual. ‘You know I’m just a flight away. If you wanna I could take a private plane.’ He could never ask that of her though. As much as he’d love everyday to be filled with his flower, he wouldn’t wanna rip her away from the things she had going on in her own life.

It wasn’t all bad though! After the girl had taught him the charm she used when she first sent him something, they both would send each other gifts back and forth as much as possible. Neville sent her sweaters with his scent embedded, charmed flowers, chocolate frogs, anything she wanted was hers. She’d send her own things to remind him of her as well. Her favorite stuffed animal, loads of photographs, little crochet hats she made for Trevor, more...unsavory things as well definitely not her underwear. Despite the increase in objects Neville owned, none of his friends had questioned it until he started to wear a necklace with a heart shaped piece of onyx on it with the letter (Y/f/i) carved into it.

“Oi! Neville. Where’d you get that necklace from?” Ron questioned his friend who sat across from him in the Gryffindor common room. The boys had all decided to study together which of course turned into Neville studying as they goofed off. Neville tensed as his cheeks heated up turning a pink color.

“O-oh um..it’s from my girlfriend.” He said, saying the last word as soft as possible. He prayed to Merlin that his friends hadn’t heard him but unfortunately for him they had. It wasn’t that he didn’t want anyone to know about her. It was far from that. He was just a bit protective, he didn’t want anyone to try and steal her from him. Even though it was impossible since they had no contact with her, he never knew when it came to his friends. They always found a way to make the impossible possible.

“What year is she in?!”

“Who is it?!”

“No way, is she fit?!”

He finished at the chorus of voices, trying to calm them down so he could speak. They all scooted closer to him, looking up at him expectantly. “Well you see..” he trailed off, looking away as he played with the pendant around his neck. “She doesn’t go here. She attends school in Ilvermorny. But to answer your question, yeah she is bloody fit.” he responded, turning his attention back to the scroll of paper in front of him. Dean, Ron, and Seamus exchanged a look with each other trying to suppress their laughs.

“Yeah I’m sure she does Nev.” Dean said sarcastically as he joined the other two in laughter. Neville looked up at his friends confused at their behavior.

“Yeah Nev, if your nan sent it you could’ve just told us! Better than saying you’ve got a girl halfway across the world.” Ron said, pushing the boy slightly as he continued to laugh at him. Seamus was doubled over, snorting with laughter as fire whiskey shot from his nose causing the other two to howl with laughter.

“It’s not from my nan! My girlfriend really did send it to me.” he exclaimed, smacking Ron on the back of the head, before doing the same to the other two men. “Besides, you have some fucking nerve accusing me of lying when none of you have birds yourself.” he sneered, causing the boys to quiet down some.

“So harsh Neville, you didn’t have to go there mate! Well what’s this ‘girlfriend’ of yours called.” Seamus asked, doing air quotes as he mentioned the topic at hand. “You’d think it was a bit strange too if your friend suddenly mentioned a girlfriend who lived all the way in the states too wouldn’t you.”

“(Y/n). And I’ll have you know this isn’t a new thing. We’ve been dating since around 2nd year. Sure, I’d find it a bit strange if you mentioned a girlfriend in America that you had never brought up prior, but I wouldn’t find it impossible! Now if you excuse me, I have to go.” he quickly stood up, packing up his materials as he stormed off to the direction of his dorm. He sped up, ignoring the protest and begging of his friends to come back and continue to hang out with them. He had enough of them and he wasn’t gonna sit there and let himself be called a fucking liar by Hogwart’s biggest ones.

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

“Did you guys hear? Students from Ilvermony are supposed to be coming to visit!” Ron said, running up to the other four boys. “I’m just picturing how hot all the girls from the states are gonna be. All hot and leggy with those bloody accents. I could combust just thinking of it!” he exclaimed, flopping down on the couch. Neville gasped softly, looking up. Did he hear him correctly? 

“Where’d you hear that from? I didn’t hear anything of the sorts.” Hermione questioned, looking up from her book at the interesting news she had just heard. However, Neville was still frozen. Was this true? And if so, why hadn’t (Y/n) mentioned it. No, no it couldn’t be. She surely would have told him.

“I just overheard it from Dumbledore himself. They should be arriving in a few minutes! They’re staying here for a few months. It’s a part of this new thing that they’ve set up. Something about wanting the students to learn different methods and what not. They decided it’d be a good idea since summer is coming soon.” he said nonchalantly, looking over at Neville who hadn’t moved since the news left his mouth. He went to question what was up with him before his eyes lit up, recalling the conversation they had a few months ago. “Hey Neville? Didn’t your supposed ‘girlfriend’ go to Ilvermony.” the boys all suddenly interested began to ‘ooo’ exchanging looks with each other.

“See Neville, this is why you don’t lie. Lies will always come back to bite you in the rear. Perhaps Ronald i-”

“I wasn’t lying, Hermione! She really does go to Ilvermony.” he exclaimed, standing up as he wiped his hands on his pants. All of a sudden, there were the sounds of a bunch of American accents speaking which caught all of their attention. Many different students in Ilvermorny uniforms (some without them) roamed freely to explore the large and intense castle.

“God you weren’t kidding Ron, the girls are bloody fit.” Dean muttered, eyeing some girl who gave him a wink before giggling and running off with her friends. “Woah look at that one, are you kidding me? She’s a fucking goddess!” Neville’s curious hazel eyes followed his friend's words as he saw a familiar shade of (h/c) hair styled in the way his girlfriend wore it. Wait, was that his sweater? 

“That’s not just some fucking girl, that’s my girlfriend!” Neville exclaimed, standing up from his seat.

“No chance.”

“You couldn’t pick a more believable one?”

“Prove it then.”

Neville went to say something before the girl turned around, locking eyes with him. She gasped, tearing up some as she pushed through the crowd of people running to him as quickly as possible. “Nev! Neville babe, is that you?” she exclaimed. Neville’s face flushed brightly taking in the girl’s appearance. She had worn the first sweater he had given her, a mossy green sweater with an obscure pattern, with a pleated skirt pairing it with a pair of boots. Neville nodded his head quickly, holding his arms out as the girl ran into him almost knocking him over. He picked her up, spinning her around quickly before setting her down, holding her soft face between his hands.

“W-what are you doing here?! You never told me you were coming to visit!” he exclaimed, wiping at the stray tears that had left her eyes. He moved his hands from her face securing them around her waist as he stared down at her. God she was even more beautiful in person.

“I wanted to surprise you! I actually found out a few weeks ago and let me tell ya, it was SO hard not to tell you!” She giggled, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch, smiling at her. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get even more handsome but bloody hell. You’re so fucking hot, Nev.” she said, feeling her face heat up. Neville flushed a bright red before leaning down, kissing the girl on the lips. She pulled him down more, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed back. The kiss was full of the love and affection they had both been craving from one another. (Y/n) tangled her hands in the back of his hair as he deepened the kiss, moaning softly. They both jumped away from one another at the sound of someone clearing their throat. “Ah sorry! Nev, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” she asked looking up at him as she intertwined his large hand with her smaller one.

“I suppose I will, even though for some reason they thought you weren’t real.” he quipped, glaring at the four boys who looked away ashamed. “From left to right there is Harry, Ron, Dean, and Seamus. And over there,” he said pointing to the big arm chair in the corner. “That is Hermione.” he said as they all muttered ‘hi’ and ‘sorry’ from some of them. (Y/n) giggled some, waving at them all.

“It’s very nice to meet you all! Nev talks about you guys all the time in his letters. Oh!” She said, eyes looking at his chest. She reached a hand forward, grabbing the engraved onyx in her hands. “The necklace I gave you!! You like it? I think it looks really good on you.” she exclaimed with a smile, happy her boyfriend enjoyed the gift she gave him. Neville once again looked at his friends chuckling some at their wide eyes.

“Of course I do, petal. I wear it everyday, everywhere I go. Right guys.” he teased, watching as they all stuttered out ‘yes ‘yep’ ‘sure does. “Come on flower, I’ll show you around the castle. I know you’ve been looking forward to that for a while. Also, you look quite cute in my sweater.”

“Thank you. I wear it quite often, even though the smell of you has worn off it still brings me good memories.” she said, playing with the slightly worn out sleeves of the sweater. “I’d love to!! Can we check out the greenhouse first? I wanna see that plant you were talking about. Maybe we can work on identifying what species it is!” he nodded in response, taking her hand once again as they began to walk off. Before they turned the corner, he quickly turned his head around using his unoccupied hand to flip off his friends before turning his attention back to his lover.

“Who would’ve thought? Longbottom with an absolute fox.” Ron said, slumping back down as he frowned. Hermione took the book she was reading smacking him upside the head.

“Maybe if you knew how to treat women you’d be with one too.”

[aminiatureworld]

Spotlight

Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,707

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Modern AU in which the reader’s s/o is famous.

Author’s Note: My first crack at a modern AU and I enjoyed it immensely! My personal media of choice definitely came through in this prompt. I would now kill for Albedo to read Shakespeare. Also streamer Kazuha is an inspired idea, thank you anon for that! Not to mention musician Xiao, truly chef’s kiss.

Albedo

Albedo was a stage actor, both by education and by trade. Starting in high school he began in local productions, before entering into the Mondstadt Theateracademie. After appearing as Estragon in a filmed version of Waiting for Godot, he began to be scouted for various television miniseries, eventually becoming a well-respected film actor.

You arrived somewhere in the middle of his career. Working as a costume assistant at the Academie you had quickly fallen for the inquisitive and deceptively intense soul that exuded every color of emotion onstage, from raging anger to soft sorrow, before stepping into the wings and resuming an aura of utter calm. He had captivated you, both as an actor and as a human being; and when you learned that he had also become slightly infatuated with you, well, it was hard not to feel like you had stepped into a wonderful play, or perhaps simply a wonderful play had been brought to life.

The switch from theatre to screen was certainly a jarring one for both of you. When the first film contract was offered Albedo had stared at it for a long time, rereading it over and over again as the coffee in front of him quickly turned cold.

“Is there something wrong with the contract?” You had asked.

“No, it’s not that. It’s only…”

“Only?”

“Only on stage there is a single audience. You can feel their reactions, can measure their response. There is nothing nebulous about the people around you. But on film you cannot do that. You cannot adjust for time of day, or whether it’s a weekend or a Friday performance. You must let your lines out and hope that they land without even being able to calculate it.”

“It’s not a science experiment my darling,” you had teased.

“Maybe not,” Albedo admitted. Still he continued to read and reread, and it was only until the next afternoon that he had told you his answer.

Still, you had to admit that he made a fantastic actor. The naturally inward part of your partner’s personality, the part that always seemed to jump out the moment he left the stage, worked well to balance with the camera’s need for subtlety, unlike the projection required for stage plays. It was little surprise then that he should grow so popular. Despite all the worries about measuring audience response, there was no doubting the success of Albedo’s acting career.

Being a naturally withdrawn person Albedo mostly stayed off of social media. He had one private Instagram for friends – he didn’t post anything; one private Facebook for family – the only picture was one of you two in the mountains next to a particularly weird looking rock; and WhatsApp – which could barely be counted. Thus when he started blowing up on Twitter – a platform you had a mostly unused account on – the reaction was mostly one of “why are they talking about me?”

Not that Albedo minded fan enthusiasm, indeed when people started showing up in droves at the stage door for him he was always careful to thank everyone collectively and talk to as many people as possible, it just sort of confused him that so many people should take a vested interest in the actor and not just the character.

“It’s because they want to show you how wonderful they think your performances are,” you’d explained.

“I don’t have Twitter,” Albedo deadpanned.

Despite his protests though you sometimes caught him scrolling on your account, face slightly red at all the positive attention. His habit of internal self-deprecation had never truly gone away. That fact became slightly unfortunate in the face of hate comments. It was hard for Albedo not to take things personally. If someone said his acting was shit then you would catch Albedo reading the same line over and over again, as if to achieve mathematical perfection. It was a difficult urge to fight, and you were always careful to give Albedo plenty of reassurance when these things popped up, as well as surreptitiously blocking the trolls that wandered their way onto your dash.

This habit to take things at face value did not apply when you entered the mix. As far as Albedo was concerned you were his partner and no amount of complaining online would make him second guess that or second guess your worth. Even if you thought that you had a better hold on social media assholerly than he did Albedo would still make sure that for every hate comment that floated your way there were at least three compliments on his part. Mentioning you off-handedly in press interviews, saying that he had to go home to his partner, leaving small sketches on post-it notes scattered throughout your apartment, there were no lengths that Albedo wouldn’t go to assure you. And, if you had to admit, these things truly did make you feel better on the days when the small part of your brain said that this wasn’t mindless social media harassment.

Being an actor Albedo had an incredibly fine-tuned sense of the way that people responded to emotions, as if he were performing some grand sort of scientific experiment to see how many people he could sway with his gift. As of such he was always careful that, regardless of his success, things between you were never upturned. You were with him before he was really famous, and you would be there during and after. Albedo loved you deeply; though he often said that he hated romance plays for how sappy they were in his mind your relationship was the one, glowing exception – regardless of the other happy couples in the world. Though it was slightly idealistic, it was the kind of intensity that comprised Albedo’s personality, was the thing that had garnered him so much success.

Albedo loved you deeply, and no amount of surprise movie contracts would change that.

 Kazuha

You had to admit that when you had met Kazuha you had no idea about his double life as a streamer. He was merely one of the many singers that came and went to the recording studios, all people eager to unleash their talent on the world. But unlike the rest of them, Kazuha could make you laugh.

Perhaps then it was unsurprising that Kazuha should be a popular streamer. Though his often florid talking style might seem on paper like it would be too grating for streaming, in reality his soft cadence combined with a dry sense of humor made him wildly popular. He rarely lost his temper, making him palatable to those who wanted to have a fun time without blowing their ears out, and when he did lose it his hyper-specific, often nonsensical insults were the stuff of memes. No, in retrospect it was not all that surprising that Kazuha was a beloved streamer.

At heart though, Kazuha had told you over coffee, the enthusiastic and earnest internet sensation was a poet.

“When you’ve had a life as dissonant as mine, how can you not be?” He’d joked. And indeed perhaps he was right, for Kazuha was as wonderful a poet as you had ever read. He was born to be a writer, you had told him.

You were also an aspiring singer, as well as a friend of the studio owner where you did your recordings. As such you had made it a habit to help around the studio when you weren’t also working or studying. As you and Kazuha were both students with intense side jobs, the good natured complaining of overworked students also made their way into you rapport, a friendship that grew day-by-day. Eventually it sprouted into love.

Though you knew that Kazuha was a streamer when your relationship started, in reality you hadn’t realized how truly popular he had become. The first time you watched one of his streams you were blown away by his popularity. Watching your first livestream only cemented that. It was hard to believe that your down-to-earth, slightly self-effacing, partner could have garnered such a large fanbase. Not that you didn’t think he deserved it. He absolutely did. However after seeing that you admitted you were a bit awestruck.

“Why? Am I not the same person on screen and off?”

“Of course you are! It’s just, well, my partner’s a celebrity!”

“I would go that far,” Kazuha laughed.

“Well you certainly are to me!”

Nevertheless your dynamic didn’t change much afterwards, besides the occasional teasing on both of your parts. Kazuha was after all Kazuha at the end of the day.

At the beginning Kazuha didn’t mention you much on stream, certainly not by name, you had to admit you were a bit intimidated by the idea of being recognizable on the internet, even if it was just by name.

“This is also my partner’s favorite map.” Had been his first mention, during a game of Mario Kart.

Despite this offhanded remark however the chat had almost immediately exploded, followed by the rest of the fanbase. Though there was, of course, some disappointed buzz – isn’t there always – the reaction was immensely positive. Positive, and curious.

After a while Kazuha started mentioning you more often in streams, especially after the two fo you moved in. Sometimes you would hear him as you passed him room – Kazuha liked to keep the door open – other times you would watch it on stream yourself.

“My partner hates this character. Too bad you can’t throw evidence.”

“Nobody tell my partner that I’m afraid of basements. I don’t need them to know that when laundry day rolls around.”

“Hey if you’re watching this dear, I promise that it’s not that much money. You don’t need to look at the bank account. Who am I kidding, this is why we don’t share one.”

“Hey, darling I know you’re watching this. Can you check and make sure I left my keys on the coffee table, they aren’t on my desk. Also can you make tea?”

Despite fans knowing very little about you, you were surprised by the amount of positive comments that flooded the streams. You had to admit that your initial expectations had been “people are going to find me annoying”. Instead funny comics of your voice drifting in from the other room popped up, along with a lot of waving and “tell your partner not to trust you with the keys” after Kazuha fell off a cliff one too many times. It was an odd experience, to be so happy about the comments of faceless people, people to whom you were also faceless.

Eventually Kazuha’s hardwork in singing paid off and his first single was recorded and given a deal. On the evening of the release livestream Kazuha set up in the living room, angling the camera so that you could sit on the chair just out of frame. You had talked about the release for months now, and a few weeks ago Kazuha had brought up the idea of a pseudo-stream reveal.

“I was wondering if you’d like to say hello to the audience or wave when my song is released. I understand that you’re hesitant about those sort of things, and I would never ask of you something that would make you uncomfortable. This relationship is the most precious thing to me, and I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or exploited in any ways.”

“Thank you for being so considerate Kazuha. I’ll think about it.”

Now you sat in the chair, fidgeting slightly, waiting as the countdown on his laptop reached one. You excitement certainly seemed matched by that of the fans, who were typing wildly in the chat.

Eventually the screen faded to black and the chatting quieted down. The first few notes of a wooden flute emerged, combined with the strumming of a guitar. As the familiar words began to echo through the laptop speaker you found yourself washed away. Kazuha was always enthralling when he sang. At the end of the song was a dedication, and though Kazuha had already alluded to it, the sincerity still took your breath away.

To my dearest partner. My compass and my guiding star throughout this realization of my dream. You are my sun and my stars, and I’m forever devoted to you. Thank you for sharing in this project, and thank you for giving me such love.

Perhaps it was slightly saccharine. Regardless you felt the sudden, uninhibited urge to cry.

“So, what did everyone think?” Kazuha asked into the mic, face reappearing on screen. He was slightly giddy, and you watched as his hand tugged on the fabric of his linen belt.

Immediately the chat exploded, as waves of “that was amazing”, “I’m crying now”, and “the end was so sweet!” flooded the screen.

“Thank you all for the encouragement!” Kazuha let out a laugh, one that you could tell was one of utter euphoria, and no little relief. “There’s someone else I think who would like to thank you.”

Who knew that a small sentence could cause such a splash?

You barely had time to let out a tentative “Hello,” before an immediate wave of excited screaming covered the bottom left of Kazuha’s stream. “Thank you for supporting Kazuha’s song. And thank you for always being nice to me.” With a tentative wave of the hand you collapsed back on your chair, slightly hysterical laughter rising inside you out of the relief that flooded through you upon seeing the enthused fan reaction.

Afterwards your voice became the occasional guest on Kazuha’s streams, always greeted with enthusiasm. Kazuha continued to grow in popularity, and his music continued to capture a larger and larger audience.

All throughout this you never felt a snag in your relationship. Kazuha may have been a big streaming personality, but he was also a kind and considerate partner, the best that one could ask for in a significant other. Kazuha’s love was never in question. And neither was yours.

 Xiao

Sometimes you were a little self-conscious about the way that you met Xiao.

Though Xiao had definitely grown a following by the time you met – being the main pianist for a popular singer and a classical pseudo-prodigy in both piano and flute his own right certainly had roped him an enthusiastic fanbase – you had simply known him as “the guy who hogs the practice room”.

“I swear to the gods, how long can that bastard take to practice!” You texted angrily at your friend one day. Qixing Conservatory was the premiere music place in Liyue, but what should’ve been an amazing opportunity was being overshadowed by a practice room partner who appeared to not have a life, one who also had the obnoxious habit of playing the same damn thing over, and over, and over again.

“Playing the same piece as before?”

“Yes! Ugh I don’t even know what it’s called but I’ve heard it enough times to last a lifetime, maybe five!”

“Damn I’m sorry, what time does he usually end?”

“I don’t even know. Some time in the early evening. It’s obviously never gotten through to his brain that other people also need to practice. Or that hearing the same notes over and over while waiting makes me want to chuck my binder against a wall.”

“Lol. I kinda want to hear it now. Can you send a video, will the sound pick up?”

“I don’t know how it wouldn’t.”

“…”

“Holy shit! Okay, I need you to watch this video and tell me if you recognize the pianist.”

Safe to say you nearly fell out of your chair upon figuring out Xiao’s identity. Not that you weren’t already about to out of pure exasperation. Still, there was something much more intimidating about shaming a successful musician, and you no longer had the urge to glare at Xiao every time he left the practice room. Honestly, you would have been perfectly happy keeping your head down and never interacting with him at all.

Fate, however, has a sense of humor.

To be fair, some of it was your fault. You knew that Erlkonig was a massively difficult piece. You knew that you should’ve picked something else, knew that even Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata mvt. Three had to be less painful than the non-vocal arrangement you’d placed in front of your eyes. You were never trusting your music taste with your piece choices again. This was a terrible mistake.

“These stupid fucking running notes!” You let out, a groan of exasperation racing through you. Half slamming (you weren’t crazy) the piano cover down you swung the door of the practice room open. You didn’t want to deal with this anymore. Trying to ignore the embarrassment that rose up seeing Xiao waiting on a chair next to the door you went to walk down the hallway.

“You should work on it with a dotted sixteenth note pattern.”

It was the first time that Xiao had ever spoken to you.

Afterwards a rapport slowly grew between the two of you. Often Xiao said nothing as you passed, rarely you made a gesture of recognition when he finally reappeared from the practice room. However soon the occasional word or phrase of advice grew into longer sentences, later these sentences evolved into pieces of conversation. Soon enough you discovered, to your slight horror, that you found yourself yearning for Xiao’s company.

Almost as soon as you’d finally figured out your feelings you were hit with a wave of denial. You weren’t falling for Xiao? How could you fall for someone who got on your nerves so much? Sure he gave you advice, but what about it? You deserved it after having to hear him over and over again while waiting. Certainly Xiao didn’t seem interested in you, he barely talked to you! Yeah he was getting more talkative, but it’s easier to talk to people when you’re giving them advice. There’s no way you were in love with Xiao. And there was no way he was in love with you.

To say that Xiao’s career as a musician, never mind his genuine technical talent at two instruments, was a barrier would be an understatement. The moment you thought you were making some progress, finally admitting to yourself that this crush was, in fact, real, a wave of anxiety would pass over you. Xiao was too good for you, he was too important. Here was a man who had a successful musical career already up in the air while you banged frustratedly on the keys. Why would someone that successful be interested in you? Not to mention the fact that he didn’t seem interested.

Because, you had to admit, you did like Xiao’s music. Not just his classical repertoire, but his pop music as well. It was slightly jazzy, mellow and playful and utterly unlike the scowling musician behind it – something you secretly thought extremely cute and surprisingly charming. To him you were just a practice roommate, and you were sure he’d find the idea of dating someone who was more familiar with his public persona irritating.

So you buried your feelings, or tried to. Unfortunately like sometimes attracts like, and just as Xiao secretly had the emotional understanding of a teaspoon, you weren’t nearly as clever about things as you would like.

“Is there something on my face?” Xiao asked, his voice gruff and slightly reluctant.

“No, why would there be?”

“Because you’re staring at it!”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You let your head drop, looking intently at the ivories in front of you. Eventually there was a sigh.

“You don’t have to do that. I… I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! You staring down is weird too. Let’s, let’s just hurry up and do this passage.”

After that you became more aware of your staring habit. You also became more aware of Xiao’s own habit, leaning towards you. Sometimes you swore that you could feel the tips of his hair tickling your neck, light and feathery and stealing all your attention.

“Hey, Xiao, do you need glasses?”

“Why would you asked that!” Xiao flared up, face reddening. By this time you’d become more accustomed to these flareups of grumpiness, and ignoring it you pressed on.

“It’s just, you seem to be leaning forward.”

“I’m not!” Immediately Xiao shifted back, almost stepping away. Without thinking about it you reached to grab his hand.

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing!” You got out, before becoming aware of your hand grasping Xiao’s. The touch felt electric, and you were suddenly so very aware of everything, yet unable to focus at all.

“Then you shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Xiao grumbled.

Slowly the musician leaned closer to you once more. You had already half stood up and now you found yourself stepping closer to Xiao. The world continued to shrink until you were almost pressed together. Xiao was leaning forward, as were you, and the longer tufts of his hair were tickling your cheek, helped by the fan whirring away in the corner. Your hand was still in his, but all your thoughts appeared to have died away.

“Xiao?”

“Is this, too close?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Xiao?”

“What?”

“I like your music. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Why would it?”

“I don’t know. I just, I also like you, not just your music. But I also like your music.”

“I also like yours too.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the most romantic of confessions, but at that point you were far too carried away by the moment, or maybe by the fact that was the most sentences Xiao had strung together that weren’t about triplets. Regardless of the fact, you were suddenly seized by incredible happiness, as all appeared to right itself.

Afterwards initially little changed, Xiao was a gruff as ever, you were still itching to play in the practice room more. Nevertheless when you went to a concert of his for the first time and he let out a small, almost imperceptible, smile your way you knew things had changed. They would keep changing perhaps, or maybe they wouldn’t. After all, this moment was beautiful.

So much that you didn’t even mind the hours spent waiting for the practice room.

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

SFW ALPHABET A-Z

Gojo Satoru Edition 💙

note: I just want to thank everyone for making this blog hit 500+ followers. Never in my wildest dreams would have thought to have a writing blog and a one that is so supported and loved. I love everyone single of my followers and readers who took the time to read my content. English isn’t my first language so I struggle a lot when writing since I make a lot of typos and I barely have any writing skills. Even though I reread it to check I still manage to find some typos so I’m constantly editing, even my old posts. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea how happy each comment or reblogs makes me, I love reading what you guys think. I will continue to work hard for you guys and the jkk community! Please look forward to future updates my lovelies! ❤

A= Admiration (How do they admire you? What is their thoughts about you? What is their reaction in meeting you for the first time? Do they instantly like you?)

Gojou loves staring at you and he's not afraid if he gets caught.

Even if you're doing chores or you're laughing with the first years. You could of just woken up with messy hair, drool dried on the corner of your mouth and he'll still think you're the most beautiful person in the world.

When he stares at you it's as if the world slows down and everyone goes in slow motion. He'll notice the twinkle in your eyes or how you suddenly shifted to your right. As he's in a trace where his hearts flutters at the sight of you.

His Six Eyes will notice even the tiniest detail about you.

Even in a crowded room his eyes will immediately try to find your form. You're the first person he seeks whenever and wherever.

He likes to boast about you to everyone, especially his students. You're his lover and he's proud to have you.

To him, you're his equal, his safe haven. You're the only person he can truly let his guard down with. You love him not because "he's the strongest shaman" but just as "Satoru" and that's something he thinks about that makes him feel all warm inside.

You're his everything, he wouldn't know what would he do if he ever loses you. If Gojou truly loves you he will fully commit to it.

You and Gojou didn't exactly start off on the right foot.

You thought he was too arrogant and annoying.

While he thought you were weak and boring.

You quickly proved that wrong, and his perception of you changed. He would often tease you and find opportunities to spar with you.

You slowly started to grow on each other from rivals to lovers.

He's still annoying though.

B= Bestie (Do they act like best friends while dating? How comfortable are they with you?)

Why absolutely! You guys are lovers at the same time bestfriends.

Gojou is very comfortable around you. He's pretty confident man already but when he's around you there's no breaks for this man.

He will do the wackiest and craziest things just see you laugh and smile.

You both tell each other everything, such as recent turn of events or even student gossip. He loves to gossip.

You can expect him to wake you up at 2 am just to go to McDonald's while blasting music from the car while you both sing on top of your lungs.

Of course there will be moments where both have arguments or disagreements but they don't last long. They get solved pretty easily.

"Wanna get icecream?"

"Fine, but you're playing."

Gojou can be quite obnoxious at times and you're not afraid to let him know. He doesn't listen and still annoy you anyways.

But now you should be used to his antics and don't take them too seriously.

There is no such thing as a boundary for this man.

He can literally become your safe haven during sad times or hell as he tickles you until you cry.

C= Cuddles (How often do they cuddle? How are they when they cuddle? What cuddle position do they like best? Are they the Big Spoon or Little Spoon?)

If he could, Gojou would always want to be cuddling with you. Whenever and wherever you both are.

He loves the feeling of having you in his arms or him in your arms. His home is where your arms are. It's one of the moments where his Infinity isn't activated.

He wrap his long limps around you and bring you as physically close as possible so he can nuzzle against you or press kisses to you.

Whenever he's in a cuddling mood or he's feeling stressed he'll come to find you and pull you to the nearest chair. He'll have you sit in his lap while he embraces you tightly. He won't go until he's satisfied too!

He usually prefers to be the bigger spoon, he likes the idea that you're safe within his arms. Sometimes he'll just stare at you while you sleep, smiling to himself as he drifts off to sleep.

If you're both in bed you must cuddle! It's a rule he made up.

He doesn't being the little spoon either, he loves the feeling of when you playing with hair. He truly feels comfortable and vulnerable within your arms.

He can't decide with position he likes best, he just likes the feeling of your body close to his.

D= Domestic (Are they willing to settle down with you? Are they willing to do chores? What do you two do at home?)

Gojou never thought he would settle down. That is until he met you!

With his busy and dangerous lifestyle, he thought he would spend the rest of his days alone.

Being with him, is a huge risk. The higher ups or the enemies would use you as a bargaining chip.

After lots of convincing, that you'll promise to be by his side forever. You'll have his heart now and forever.

Gojou when he's at home...he's lazy. He'll be munching on some snacks, lying on the sofa while you hang the laundry.

Somedays he's tired from work, so you let him be but if he really isn't doing anything. Some threats work really well on him.

"If you don't don't do the laundry, you're sleeping on the sofa tonight!"

"Then I'm off to do it!"

Having growing up with servants, he's not used to doing household chores.

But he will try, because he doesn't want you take take on the full workload. Teach him, he's a fast learner!

At home, within your arms is where he feels safest. Majority of the time you two would be in contact with each other one way or another.

You're watching tv? He's sitting you with his arm around your shoulder. If you're cooking, he'll come and unexpectedly hug you from behind. This man craves your touch.

Watching movies or television is something you both do very often, you'll both be snuggled up together, while Gojou throws commentary here and there.

Cooking or baking is another thing you both do. Majority of the time you both rarely get to spend together due to Gojou's work schedule. Who ever arrives home first will have to make dinner. However, you two are both at home you both help each other make a delicious dessert or meal. Nothing like eating a home cooked meal together.

Playing video games together is a must! You're his player number 2. He's very competitive so if he wins, it's non stop boasting but if he loses he demands an immediate rematch. Mario Kart or Super Smash Brothers is some the common ones you both play.

E= Endeavor (Are they supportive in you trying to do something? Will they help you reach for it?)

Gojou Satoru is known to be your literal hype man.

He will be very supportive of you and what you're trying to accomplish. As long as it's not something like becoming a murder. He's gonna have to do a double take on that.

If you're gonna become a piano, he'll have a grand piano delivered straight to your home. If you're gonna become an artist, he will buy you the best art supplies.

As they say "live your life to the fullest" and Gojou completely agrees with that statement.

If you're trying to learn something new, he will be encouraging you. There are times where he can be a little but don't take it to heart. He just wants you to improve and sugarcoating things isn't always the best way to improve.

If you're feeling down but you're trying to achieve, he'll be there to comfort you and motivate you.

"Things won't always go your way, but I promise I'll be there to cheer you on."

If you're trying to learn a new skill, he might have a go at it too. He's a fast learner but if he doesn't or can't do something, he'll just blame it on the fact that if he does it then he's gonna become perfect so he chooses not to. It's just to save his huge ego.

F= Fights (How often do you guys fight? Who apologizes first? How long will the fight last? What is the reason behind the fight?)

You guys argue pretty often but they're mostly about trival issues. Like Gojou forgot to take out the trash or who cooks today.

If you both do fight seriously. It would definitely have to do with "work". Because of Gojou's busy schedule you're not sure when will he be back home or when he will be gone. If you both have very different schedules it would definitely lead to some misunderstandings.

If you realize you did something wrong you'll apologize to him right away. While he spouts things like "I told you so!" but he's only teasing.

If he realizes he did something wrong it'll take him a while for him to admit it. Depending on the seriousness of the situation his apology will differ.

If it's something trivial, he'll just pepper you with kisses while says sorry a hundred times.

If it's serious, he'll fully embrace you and apologize, straight to the point no needless words.

Trivial fights don't last long but serious one may take time. Depending on who's wrong or right.

Gojou is a stubborn person so even if he's wrong it'll take him a while to admit it. Maybe days or a week but no longer than that. After all he can't resist not being around you.

G= Guard (Are they protective of you? How protective are they? Are they willing to risk themselves to save you?)

This depends whether you're a shaman or a civilian.

If you are a civilian, he will be very protective of you. You don't have the ability to see curses so who knows what or when can hurt you.

He'll take sure to put lots of talismans and barriers around your home for safety.

Gojou due to his busy work schedule won't always be home or be around you. During these days he's worried sick about you.

He'll be sure to message or call you whenever he can to check up on you.

If he truly senses you're in danger, no matter what he'll go to you instantly. After that happens he'll more frightened of losing you and might resort to leaving you.

Despite how much he loves you, you're life is more precious than him. He can't risk that by being around you.

If you're a shaman just like him, he won't be as protective over you. He'll understand and trust that you'll be able to defend yourself.

He'll make sure to spar with you so that you won't lose in touch in fighting.

Even though he knows you can take care of yourself, in his heart he still worries for you. So he may or may not pop up randomly during your missions and exorcise the curse immediately.

You may end up getting annoyed or mad at him because you may think he thinks you're weak but that's not the case. He just loves you and worries about you.

Whether you're a civilian or shaman, Gojou will 100% risk his life to save you. He's lost so many people, he can't afford lose you too.

If you're out in public, he'll be sure to be holding your hand or have an arm around your waist. He'll glare at anyone who looks at you funny through his sunglasses.

Gojou has a massive presence so good luck to anyone who tries to approach you. They gotta get through him first.

H= Healing (What is their reaction in you getting hurt? Do they get hurt often? Do they help you patching you up? Or do they not know how to patch you up, and tries their hardest?)

Gojou hates seeing you hurt in anyway. Even if it's a tiny wound. It's kinda like if you're hurt he's hurt too. That's his way of thinking.

If you get injured during a mission, you can bet Gojou will be all over you.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"For the hundred time, yes..."

Despite your assurance that are fine, he'll still insist to take you to Shoko just to be safe.

If it's a trivial wound like you accidentally cut yourself or you stubbed your toe. Gojou will be the one to take care of the wound. He does have basic knowledge on how to treat wounds.

If it's a severe wound, he'll instantly bring you to Shoko. He'll teleport all the way from Hokkaido to Tokyo if he has to.

He doesn't know how to use the Reverse Cursed Technique but at the moment when you're dying in his arms he will try his best to.

He will literally become your human shield if he knows things are dire.

If he sees an enemy wound you, well it's gonna be game over for the enemy. Instant oblivion.

It is known that Gojou has his Infinity activated at all times, so he doesn't ever get hurt whether from missions or trivial issues.

Very rare but when he does turn off his Infinity he can get hurt but it's because he let's it happen.

He still gets sick from time to time because that's something his Infinity can't protect him from.

I= Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do you two often go on dates?)

Gojou as we all know is very affectionate and romantic person.

He's very cheesy and likes to tease you just to see you blush.

He can't keep his hands off of you, he has to be touching you even just by lacing your fingers together. He also likes to stand near you often behind you or right beside you.

Gojou goes all over Japan for his missions and he makes sure to always bring a souvenir home for you whether it's a little trinket or something you'll like. Definitely will buy sweets, he'll share just a little though.

You'll often be surprised with deliveries of bouquets at work addressed to you but not written from who but you know who it is.

This man is extremely rich, so you ever have an eye on something, he'll secretly buy it for you.

When you're cold, he'll give you his jacket or hug you to keep you warm. If you're feeling hot under the sun, use this man as your personal shade. He doesn't mind.

It's rare for the both of you to have day offs at the same time so it's always something special to him.

He'll either take you out shopping or a cafe date.

He loves going around Tokyo with you to different places and secretly takes pictures of you when you're not looking.

If you don't feel like going anywhere he's fine with just cuddling you while watching a movie.

Gojou just has a sense for you if you're feeling down or stressed. He'll instantly know and would try to make you feel better.

He can cook your favorite meal or even give you a massage.

He's not shy to show the world how much he loves you, everyone in the Jujutsu society knows about you two.

J= Jealousy (How often do they get jealous? Do they get easily jealous? How will they react?)

Gojou doesn't get jealous easily. He trusts you and knows the things you do and won't do. However, on rare occasions it does happen but he won't directly voice it out.

"I'm the strongest most handsome shaman ever!" But behind that he still has insecurities. It usually depends on the person you're interacting with. If he sees you getting a little too close to someone, he'll step inーcausally stepping in between the two of you. A hand around your waist around strangers and a full on back hug around people he knows.

If a stranger tries to pick you up, he'll swoop right in towering the poor stranger. He knows he's attractive and he knows show to use it.

"Pay attention to me (Y/N), not Nanami!.

"Satoru, we're talking the recent sighting of a grade 1 cursed spirit."

Afterwards he'll just be very whiny and needy, he wants your full attention on him and him only!

K= Kissing (Do they like kissing you? Are they shy or confident in kissing you?)

Gojou Satoru loves all forms of affection. Kissing being one of them.

Gojou has had experience with kissing so he knows what he's doing. One moment he'll be kissing you sweetly then it turns into a full blown make out session.

He's not embarrassed about kissing you in public. Despite the Japanese culture of being conservative of PDA. He won't be making out with you in front of the entire crosswalk but he'll give you pecks or smooches that last a moment or two.

Whenever he leaves for work, he'll always ask for his goodbye kiss or when he's back home he'll be eagerly waiting for your kiss.

Whenever you both pass by each other whether at home or at school, he'll press a chaste kiss to you.

His tongue is divine, he definitely knows how to use his tongue. You can bet he knows how to tie a cherry into a knot using just his tongue.

You will always taste something sweet lingering on him as you kiss him.

He doesn't have a specific type of kiss he likes, he likes them all as long as they're with you. Forehead kisses, cheek kisses, eskimo kisses you name it!

He will definitely will to try out all forms of kisses with you.

L= Love (Who drops the L-word first? Would they rather say it or do it?)

Love is a complicated feeling, Gojou hasn't felt that before with any of his past relationships.

That was until he met you. That's when he realized that what the feeling was.

You were cuddling in bed together, face to face. There was no talking just silence as the two of you stare deeply into each other's eyes. Only the light of the moonlight peaking through the curtains illuminating the room.

Gojou stares into your eyes with a soft smile on his face as he gently lays his hand on your cheek.

Your eyes held the universe within them, the universe that is you and it's staring back at him with so much love and affection within them. He feels the warmth spread throughout his body. He whispers softly "I love you..." as his own eyes reflect yours.

You gasp with eyes widening, processing the words he spoke. You feel your eyes well up in tears, as your cheeks warm. You place your hand over his and whisper back "I love you too.." smiling brightly at him.

That was the moment when he first told you he loved you, it was so genuine and raw.

Afterwards he'll always voice out that he loves you but of course he shows it as well. He'll call you beautiful while pressing a kiss to your forehead.

M= Marriage (How do they propose to you? What’s their ideal wedding like? Where do you plan it?)

Gojou is a very spontaneous man, I can imagine him doing it during the most mundane and random moments. Such as after you're both walking home from a date or maybe it's late into the night while you're both cuddling.

Maybe moments where you're hurt or if he almost lost you.

"Marry me, (Y/N)..."

It's just a spur of the moment kind of thing, when he's the most vulnerable. When he realizes "ah, I want to spend the rest of my life with this person..."

Gojou is pretty flexible with the kind of wedding he wants. He doesn't really have a dream wedding.

The elders of his clan would definitely bug him for a Traditional one as it is customary.

However, if you want a Western style wedding instead he will definitely go for it.

Mostly likely, you both will have two weddings one traditional and western.

Money is different not an issue with this man. Say the word and you shall receive. It's definitely going to be extravagant.

Whether you want to or not he'll find a way to splurge his money.

If the elders are opposed to your marriage you'll both will just have a private wedding, inviting the people closest to you guys.

Not marrying you because someone said no is not an option for him.

N= Nicknames (What do they call you? Do they call you these in public as well? How often do they call you in nicknames?)

Gojou has a variety of nicknames for you!

Ranging from the typical baby, babe, sweetie, darling and honey.

Or something more sweet such as princess/prince, my love, my dearest.

And there's those really cringey ones such as sugarpie, cupcake, my strawberry cheesecake.

He will literally call you by any dessert name.

"Hey, my kikufuku!" Yup, that's you.

If you're shorter than him you can add shorty, short stuff or munchkin to the list.

When he uses them usually depends on the situation. If he's feeling really affectionate or needy he'll be using the really sweet nicknames.

Sometimes he'll even come up with the most ridiculous ones as much as it embarrasses you.

Usually he'll just call you using the common nicknames. He will only use your real name during serious situations.

He's not shy about proclaiming you as his chocolate cupcake. Not even in front of his students or colleagues.

"Are you referring to (L/N) sensei?" "Bingo!"

You've tried to beg him to stop but the man doesn't listen.

O= Open (How open are they with you? Are they willing to share their secrets and past with you? Do they trust you?)

Gojou despite being a man who loves to talk does not like talking about his private life or his past.

It's very personal information to him and he doesn't want the information to fall into the wrong hands.

If anyone asks about it he'll either ignore the question or answer it very vaguely.

You would have to be someone has spent years by his side to be to attain that level of trust with you.

There are some things in his past that isn't easy to talk about, even though it doesn't bother him now. If you ask he will tell you about it briefly.

If it's information not regarding his secrets or his past, he doesn't sharing those details. If you wanna about his mission or want to check his phone, he will let you. He has nothing to hide except the secret pictures he takes of you.

He in return trusts you as well, but he won't pry into things you don't want to talk about.

If you manage to gain his trust enough for him to reveal personal information about him, don't break it. If you do, you will never be able to gain it back.

P= PDA (Are they into PDA? Do they often do it? Their reaction if you hold their hands or kiss them in public.)

Gojou is into PDA but he doesn't flaunt it as often as you think. He won't be making out with you in the middle of the school hallway but he will press chaste kisses to you.

He's not afraid to hug you or hold your hand around the faculty or students.

He won't do something inappropriate in public he likes to keep that in private. Through sometimes he will because he likes seeing you embarrassed while you desperately ask him to stop. Trying not to gain the attention of the people around you.

He also likes seeing the reactions of other people when he does display affection towards you but mostly he does it to see your cute reactions.

If you initiate hand holding with him, he will definitely hold your hand back tightly. If you kiss him, he'll be surprised but then he's quick to tease you about it.

"Oya, is my cupcake getting bold～?"

If anyone looks at you two with disgust he will yell out "you got a problem?"

He's not shy to show the world he loves you.

Q= Quirk (Do they find your quirks adorable or odd? Do they tell you or not? Do they have a quirk of their own?)

Nothing escapes his keen eyesight. He'll notice and remember a lot of your quirks even the ones you're unconsciously doing.

He thinks its absolutely adorable, like how you furrow your eyebrows in concentration how you pout when you're deep in thought.

All these little quirks make you who you are and he adores them.

Gojou will tell you about them of course, even if you try to deny it. If you don't believe he'll try to take a picture to show you which ends up making you really embarrassed.

"I can't help it, I don't even know that I'm doing that..." you whisper with a blush on your face.

Gojou has a quirk of fiddling with his blindfold or his sunglasses if he's wearing them.

Definitely a fan of putting his hands in his jacket or hands while he stands or walks. He doesn't like the feeling of his hands being empty.

R= Reliable (Are they loyal? How loyal are they? Are they there for you when you need someone?)

Gojou is a very honest and down to earth kind of guy. Of course, loyalty is something he firmly commits to.

Cheating is something he won't resort to at all costs. No woman or man is tempting enough for him to be swayed.

We all know he is a good looking guy, he's bound to attract suitors anywhere but he'll turn them all down. He already has you, why would he need anyone else?

There are times where you might feel insecure or jealous but Gojou will always be there to assure you not to. He'll do his best to comfort you, until you're smiling again.

"You're the only one I need..."

During these times he'll even share his precious sweets with you. He'll feed you cake while hugging you from behind.

Have faith in him because whenever you need him, he'll make sure to be there.

S= Solace (How do they comfort you? Do they immediately notice you being sad?)

Gojou just has sense whenever you're feeling sad, even though you try your hardest to hide it.

He just sees through your facade. He won't ask if you're okay when he clearly knows you'll try to lie about it.

If you're trying to avoid him, he'll either pin you against the wall or pull you into his embrace.

He'll be silent as he takes off his blindfold to stare deep into your eyes, how could you lie when those eyes are looking straight at you.

He won't ask you about what's bothering you but he will always be there to comfort you.

Gojou would pull you into his lap on his expensive chair and cradle you like child as he gently caresses your hair.

Ligerning forehead kisses is also he does to comfort you.

Gojou would also bring his sweets stash and slowly feed you some while he hugs you from behind. If you want food, he'll be glad to cook up your favorite meal.

He knows a lot of cringy and cheesy jokes, in which ends up with him laughing at his own jokes. His laughter is contagious so wouldn't be able to hold back a smile after that.

T= Turn-off (What do they dislike in people? What is their turn-off?)

Gojou hates the old way of thinking he finds in elders especially the elders of his clan and the jujutsu society.

He doesn't like anything anything serious or boring. If you're too uptight, he'll find a way to break that.

Another thing he hates is when people do something behind his back or say something behind his back. If you have something to say, then say it straight it to him.

Routine is another thing he dislikes, he's very spontaneous and looks for the fun in things.

He dislikes vegetables and anything bitter. He's a lover of sweets afterall!

Prying too much into his personal life, as proud as he isーhe doesn't like going around talking much about his private life or his past.

U= Umbrageous (Do they easily get offended by what you said? How will they react when you get hurt by what they said?)

Now if you mean playful gets offended then the answer would be yes. If you're seriously trying to offend him, he won't. He's not the type to take things like that to heart.

Call him an idiot, a narcissist, he will playful hold his chest in pain and whine to you while he pouts.

He'll even tease you back if he feels like it.

"Sorry, did you say something～?"

Even though he doesn't take insults to heart, if you use his past against him, he will take offense to it. His past is something he doesn't want to bring up so if you or anyone brings it up. That changes things.

He tries to keep the optimism but he's only human with emotions so there will be times you could offend him.

If you managed to offend him, he'll be unusually quiet as he dwells on your words.

He won't resort to anger but that doesn't mean he won't at times. That's when he's firing insults back you, blinded by rage. He will regret it afterwards though.

V= Vision (What do they imagine their future? What is their dream? Do they want to spend it with you?)

If Gojou truly loves you, he'll definitely would want to spend the rest of his life with you by his side. Somewhere where he doesn't have to be on guard and would always welcome him with open arms.

Yet at the same time he is afraid of the dangers that come associated with him. If you're a civilian he'll try to distance himself away from you. He's afraid one day when he's not around, someone might come after you. His world is completely different from that of a normal person's afterall.

If you work in the same field as him. He'll definitely be more reluctant to push you away, because he knows you can handle yourself. It lessens his worries.

Still life as a shaman is still as dangerous, you're putting your lives at risk every time you go on a mission. The thought of losing you scares him to the very core.

Despite that he still loves you and if can't be with you he would like to associated with you someway maybe as acquaintances or friends.

He dreams of a world without cursed spirits, where he can live a peaceful life, settle down and start a family with you.

In a world crowded with darkness he dreams of a single ray of solace that is you.

Someone that will stay by his side no matter how difficult it will be.

W= Wacky (What is their reaction in you doing something crazy? Will they join you or stop you?)

Gojou Satoru is a man child, he does the most ridiculous of things like wearing a skirt of a highschool student.

If you're the type of person who's just as energetic and wild as him, it's going to be chaos.

You both will pull pranks on the students and faculty. Poor Ijichi being one of your primary targets.

If you're the type of person who's more on the serious side then he'll be shocked by your suggestion.

But of course he's willing to join in whatever plot you have.

Gojou already gives the higher ups a headache, if you're added to the mix it's going to end up being a massive headache.

He lost count of the amount of times he got scolded by Principal Yaga.

He can come up with the wildest ideas and sometimes you will have to become his break.

Principal Yaga specifically asked you to keep him in check after all.

X= Xtra (Random Headcannon about them)

Gojou Satoru has a driver's license. In fact he even owns several cars.

Of course, they're all the expensive ones because he thinks they look cool.

Does he use them? Not that often, when you literally have the ability to teleport or have Ijichi to drive you around.

As you expect he's a fast driver, you will literally be griping your seatbelt for dear life. It looks like he's gonna crash but he won't. He just likes to scare you.

Of course there's a stash of candy and extra pairs of sunglasses in the glovebox.

Gojou is surprisingly a great cook. You would think being raised with servants he wouldn't know how to cook but he does.

He studies the recipe very carefully and cooks. It's as if he has a natural talent for cooking.

At first, you were pretty skeptical of his cooking but once you had of bite of his dish. You could feel the literal flavors explode on your tongue.

When it's his turn for him to cook, expect him to be wearing a cute apron while blasting music from his speaker.

He'll be singing and dancing in the kitchen.

Hug him from behind while he cooks and he'll melt right then and there. Trying to hide a blush from you.

Y= Yearning (Do they long for you? Will they find themselves missing you while you’re away? If so, how will they cope with it?)

Even though you haven't seen each other for a day he terribly miss you. Your just gives him warm and when you're not there he feels cold.

He goes on missions very often and they can last days or even weeks depending on the case. He'll try to update you as much as he can on when he could come home.

Even when he's in the middle of fighting cursed spirits, he'll find his mind wondering towards you.

If he's away from you, you'll be getting calls and texts from him quite frequently. He'll make sure to always greet you good morning or good night and ask how you are.

He'll always ask if you've eaten or not and asks you to send a picture of your meal to prove it to him. He needs to know you're being well fed.

If you think he talks too much he texts just as much. He'll even take random selfies of himself or something interesting he wants you to see.

If you send him a selfie or video he'll save that so fast and save that to his folder. So he can look through them whenever he misses you.

If it's a long mission, he might pack one of your shirts which has your scent so he could take a whiff to calm himself or cuddle as he sleeps.

After a mission if he's not tired yet, he'll video call you every now and then.

He'll try to come back as fast as possible because he doesn't feel complete without your presence.

Z= Zzz (Do they fall asleep easily? Do they move around while sleeping? What sleeping position do they like best?)

If we are talking about the past Gojou, maybe around his youth then no. He had difficulty sleeping because sleeping meant he's vulnerable to attacks.

This is why relies mostly on sweets to stimulate his brain because there are days where he can't sleep at all. His powers drain a lot of energy to keep up.

Once he could run Infinity automatically, he doesn't have any trouble sleeping at all. In fact, he passes out instantly once his head hits the pillow.

The man works hard and goes on tons of missions so of course he's bound to be tired when he gets home.

Gojou Satoru is 190 cm tall so of course he has a large king sized bed at home. He likes having a lot of space but he tends to move around a lot unconsciously.

There have been times where he has fallen off the bed as well.

If you're sleeping with him and want to prevent him from taking all the bed space, you both cuddle that way his limbs are locked on you.

His likes to sleep laying on his back while you lay on your chest or embracing you from behind as you both sleep on your sides.

It's very rare from him to snore but that doesn't mean he doesn't and when he does, it's loud.

However sleeping with him has it's benefits, if you wake up before him you'll be graced by the most angelic view. As he breathes softy while his long white eye lashes remain closed.

If he does wake up you will also be graced by his morning voice which is divine.

[calif0rnia-lovers]

Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.

Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

title: For Better, or For Worse.

rating: 💙 💔

As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames

sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.

words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)

Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.

He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.

Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.

Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”

“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.

“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you���re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”

“I don’t want to stay home with you.”

“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”

“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”

Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.

“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”

“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”

“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”

“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”

“What? On the table?”

Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”

“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”

“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”

“Mayans?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”

“Maybe he got out?”

Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”

“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”

Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”

“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”

The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.

His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”

“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”

“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”

Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.

“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”

“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“

“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”

“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”

It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.

“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”

“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”

Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.

“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.

Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”

Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.

“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”

“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”

“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”

Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.

“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”

Leo nods as Tommy stands.

“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”

At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.

You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.

Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.

The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.

“You have to get up and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”

Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.

His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.

“Where’s my phone?”

His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.

“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”

“What did he want?”

Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”

Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.

2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?

2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was

3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else

3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem

3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper

3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.

The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”

“I have to tell you something.”

Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”

You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.

“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”

You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.

“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”

Angel blinks as your fingers snap.

“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.

Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”

Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”

“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”

Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”

Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.

You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.

“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“What happened to your hand?”

He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.

“Cut it on a shovel.”

Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.

“...okay.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“

"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”

It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.

“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”

Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.

“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”

Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.

“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”

The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.

Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.

You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.

“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.

Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.

“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”

“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.

He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.

“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.

“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”

“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”

Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.

“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.

As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.

The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.

You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.

“Hi, Aiden--”

“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”

“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”

“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”

“About what?”

“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”

Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.

In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.

Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”

“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”

“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”

A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.

“Yeah—how'd you know?”

“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”

“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”

“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”

“I lied to you.”

Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”

“About wanting to wait to get married.”

Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.

You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.

“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”

If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.

“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.

“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”

“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.

“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”

“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”

“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.

“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”

Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.

“Fuck—”

Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.

“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.

“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.

You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.

Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”

A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.

It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.

“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.

“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.

“Just do it.”

Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.

The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.

You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.

“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.

He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”

“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”

Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.

"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”

“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“

“No—"

“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”

“Angel—“

There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.

You step forward as he moves to push them down.

“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”

He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”

“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”

You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.

He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.

“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.

Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.

“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.

He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”

“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.

“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”

“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”

“No.”

Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”

“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”

Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.

Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.

The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.

It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.

He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.

“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”

“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”

The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.

“No—” You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”

“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.

He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.

“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”

Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”

“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.

“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”

Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”

You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.

“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”

“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”

“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”

The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.

"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"

Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.

"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."

"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.

“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”

His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”

“True, but help is a two-way street.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.

“What do you need?”

“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”

Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.

“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”

Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”

“I know how this stuff works—”

“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.

His question causes you to release a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”

His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”

“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.

“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”

The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.

“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.

“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”

Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”

“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”

She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.

“How are you?”

Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”

Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.

“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.

When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.

She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.

“Put it back.”

She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.

“Put it back, please.”

Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.

“He looks so much like his father.”

You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.

“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.

“Is that a way to greet your mother?”

“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”

Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”

“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.”

“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”

“No.”

She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.

“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”

“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”

Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.

“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”

Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”

“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”

Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”

Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.

Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.

His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.

“What are you talking about?”

Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.

“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”

“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”

The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.

“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”

Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.

📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.

And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.

“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”

Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”

“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”

His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”

The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.

“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”

“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”

Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.

“How is this the answer?”

“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”

“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”

“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”

“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”

Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”

“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”

Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.

“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"

“He uses people to get what he wants.”

“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”

Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.

“Because he was there to make a deal.”

“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”

“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”

"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."

The hug you give him brings the same response as before.

“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.

“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”

“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”

“It’s okay.”

Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”

“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”

“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.

A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question lifts your gaze.

Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.

“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”

Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.

“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”

Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”

It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.

You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.

"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."

HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.

"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."

You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.

"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."

"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"

"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."

"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.

“How long was he in Chino?”

“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”

“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”

“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”

Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”

“No, I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.

“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.

“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”

“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”

“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.

Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.

“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”

“Nine!”

“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”

“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”

“Shit—”

“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.

“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”

Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”

“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”

“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.

Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”

His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.

Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.

“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"

Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”

“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”

Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.

“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”

Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.

“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”

Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.

“I want you to stay at home.”

Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”

“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”

“That is where I’m staying.”

“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly

Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.

“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.

It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.

“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”

“You still made her cry.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”

Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.

As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.

He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.

Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.

An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.

Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.

The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“What?”

“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”

Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”

“Why are you calling?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”

“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”

“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”

“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”

“She’s not doing anything for you--”

“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”

Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”

“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”

“I want what you took—”

“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”

“I’m not helping you do shit.”

“Damn,” Tommy sighs. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”

“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”

A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.

“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”

Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.

“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”

“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”

There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.

When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.

His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.

“Do you know Tommy Flores?”

Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.

“What?”

“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”

It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.

But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.

Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.

When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.

Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.

Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.

Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.

For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.

You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.

In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."

“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”

You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”

“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”

“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“

“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“

“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”

“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”

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[atlafan]

Part One - “Call me Jane.”

a/n: here’s part one of nanny!H, I’m very excited about this series. I’m not sure how many parts it’s going to be, so please don’t ask lmao. Once I know how many parts it’ll be, I’ll make a master post for it. I’m just too excited not at least share the first part because Harry is just too cute in this! Feedback and reblogs are super helpful, and keep me motivated, especially when it comes to writing series. (not proofread) You can support me here if you’re able!

Warnings: none...for now

Words: 4.1K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Jane Watson)

Master Post

Harry found himself in a real bind. He was twenty-six years old, had an early childhood education degree, and the daycare he worked at was going under. He had just been promoted a month prior too, how could things go wrong so quickly? Times like this he really hated that he stayed in the states. Childcare services weren’t nearly as fucked up back home. His dream was to save up enough money to open up his own pre-school at some point, but it was really tough.

There was this weird stigma that if adult men wanted to work with babies and toddlers then that made them a pedophile or something of the sort. That wasn’t the case with Harry. His minor in school was psychology because cognitive development intrigued him. He also loved babies and little ones. He loved watching them learn and discover.

Only now, he was without a job in an already struggling field. He and the other employees weren’t exactly given a big notice before they were told the business was going under. Harry mostly felt bad for the parents of the kids that had to find new child care centers. He knew he’d have to compete with his co-workers for any available jobs, and he knew they were bound to find places before him because they were women. It was their fault, and he knew it. He was experiencing a prejudice that they must face all the time.

He looked into Care.com, but none of the jobs on there seemed like long-term gigs, and he didn’t want to just be a glorified baby sitter. He figured if he could find a well paying nannying job, he could do that for a bit until finding a job at a new facility, or even set up his dream pre-school. During his search on Indeed, he saw a position for a live-in nanny – jackpot! Live-in meant long-term, and long-term meant lots of money. It also meant he could get rid of his apartment and not have to pay rent for a while. He clicked on the ad that was posted only a couple of weeks ago.

Live-in Nanny Needed for Help with Eight-Month-Old

Minimum requirements:

·        Bachelor’s in either early childhood education or elementary education

·        At least two years’ experience working babies/children

Three professional references required

Applicant is subject to thorough background check for the safety of the child and mother.

Other tasks as needed include:

·        Cooking

·        Light cleaning

·        Grocery shopping/running other errands

If applicant is selected, they will be paid a flat rate of $1600 bi-weekly, will live in “in-law” section of the house, and a car will be provided for them. A resume, cover letter, and three professional references may be sent directly to jpwatson@gmail.com

After reading everything over, this seemed like Harry’s best bet. Some of it seemed a little too good to be true, but this was a risk he needed to take right now. He just hoped the position hadn’t already been filled. That night he spent some time updating his LinkedIn, making sure all of his privacy settings were up to date on all of his social media, and then wrote out a resume and cover letter. The last part was his least favorite because he knew a proper resume and cover letter had to be curated to the specific job, and it made things all the more tedious. By the time he was done, it was late. He didn’t want to seem unprofessional, so he waited to send the email until the next morning.

Subject: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: jpwatson@gmail.com

From: hes2194@gmail.com

Good morning,

My name is Harry and I’m interested in the nannying advert you’ve posted on Indeed. For the last four years I’ve been working at P.B. & J.’s Child Care Center, and was recently promoted to team lead. Unfortunately, the business itself couldn’t remain afloat, and I was laid off.

Attached are my resume and cover letter. I’d be happy to provide the three references if I end up being considered for the position.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Harry

Treat People With Kindness

He closes his laptop with a satisfied sigh after proofreading his email ten different times before he hit send. He takes a sip from his coffee, and sits back on his sofa. Now all he had to do was wait.

//

There was radio silence for two days. Harry was starting to think he would need to keep job hunting. He had bills to pay, and the last thing he wanted to do was ask his parents for help. They already looked down on his profession as it was. If he had his own car he’d become an uber driver or something, but he didn’t so he couldn’t. Then, by some stroke of luck, at 4:55PM on a Thursday, he gets an email from the address he had been hoping to see pop up.

Subject: Re: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: hes2194@gmail.com

From: jpwatson@gmail.com

Good evening Harry,

My name is Jane Watson, thank you so much for your application. My apologies it has taken me a couple of days to get back to you. I am usually more responsive, but things have been a little crazy at work as of late. Upon further review of your resume and over letter, I would like to offer you an interview this Saturday at noon, if you are available. I can be flexible if that day and time do not work for you.

If you are able to come, and are still interested in the position, I ask that you please bring your references with you. I will want to call them right away. I am sure you can understand me wanting to thoroughly look into you before letting you into my daughter’s life.

I look forward to hearing back from you soon.

All my best,

Jane

Harry responded to her right away, he didn’t care how eager he seemed. He told her Saturday at noon worked great, and that he would definitely have his references, and anything else he needed to provide. She emailed him back an hour or so later with her cell phone number and address. For the first time in a while, Harry felt like he could breathe again. He knew it wasn’t a done deal that he’d be getting the job, but he was being given a chance, and for that he was thankful.

//

He wanted to make a good first impression on Saturday, so he made sure to wash his hair in the shower, and use his good mousse so his hair would look more orderly. He shaved to give himself that clean and sleek look, this was not a day to appear scruffy. He knew he didn’t need to be overly dressed up, but he also knew that you’re supposed to dress for the job you want and not the job you have. He irons a pair of tan slacks and pairs it with a blue button up. Not to brag, but his bum looked great in these slacks, and it was giving him all the confidence in the world. He puts on a floral tie, just to show a bit of his personality, makes sure his nail polish isn’t chipped, and makes sure all of his rings are looking shiny. He takes an uber out to Jane’s house. It was in a gated community, which he was expecting since he looked up the house beforehand. He wondered what she or her husband did for work to live in a place like this. Or perhaps she inherited the home? Either way, he was excited.

He thanks the driver, and knocks on the door as he was instructed to do. A woman with silver hair that was up in a nice bun opens the door.

“Hello, you must be Mr. Styles.” She smiles.

“Yes, hello.” He smiles back.

“I’m MaryAnne, please come in.” She steps aside to let Harry in.

“Thank you.”

“Miss Watson is just pumping, but you can wait for her here in her office.” She leads Harry down a corridor where he meets a grand double door. MaryAnne opens them and shows him inside. “Make yourself comfortable, dear. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?”

“I’m all set, but thank you very much.”

The woman nods and leaves him in the room alone. He stays standing as he didn’t want to assume where he should be sitting. There was a gorgeous desk with two chairs on the other side, but there was also a small round table with four chairs around it in the corner. She clearly held a lot of meetings here, or so it would seem. To pass the time he looks over her bookshelves, scanning over what she might be into. She seemed to be into fiction, but he had never heard of any of the books on some of the shelves, or the author. She had several by the same person. Before he could look further, he heard the clacking of heels on the hardwood floors approaching him.

Everything stopped when she walked in. Jane had her hair up in a flowing ponytail, a white blouse covered her top half, he notices that the first few buttons were left undone, probably to help with her pumping, and she had a black pencil skirt on that just came to her knees. She was short, and a little voluptuous, not that Harry was checking her out.  

“Hello, Mr. Styles, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” He goes to stick his hand out for her to shake, but she walks around him and sits down at her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

He swallows and sits down.

“Y-you can just call me Harry if you like, Mrs. Watson.”

“I’m a Miss not a missus.” She says as she takes out a folder with a few sheets in it and a pen. “It says here you graduated Summa Cum Laude from Lesley University. That’s an incredible place to get a degree in education.”

“Thank you, I got a pretty decent scholarship, it was my reach school. I minored in psychology as well. I did my practicum hours at a daycare center that specialized in caring for children with disabilities. So, I’ve worked with all sorts of children. I prefer working with infants and toddlers, though.”

“And why is that?” She looks at him, clicking her pen, ready to take notes.

“Well, I just have more fun with them, to be honest. I like watching them discover new things. My favorite thing to do while working in the baby room at my last job was working with the babies on their tummy times. It was always rewarding to watch them get stronger. I feel like I just bond with them better.”

“I need to ask you some personal questions since this is a live-in position.”

“Of course.” Harry nods.

“Are you in any sort of relationship with anyone?”

“No, I’m single.”

“Have you ever been arrested, or do you have any sort of criminal history?”

“No.”

“I’m not one to judge, I think everyone deserves a second chance, I just have to ask these sort of things.” She says.

“I don’t have a criminal record, Miss Watson.”

“History of drug use?”

“I smoked a bit of weed when I was younger, but I don’t anymore. An edible once in a while, maybe, but never when I’m on the clock.”

“Just marijuana?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, but nothing other than that. Stupid kid stuff.”

“Again, not judging. I’d prefer you don’t have any drugs in the house, unless they’re for medical use. I know edibles can be prescribed by doctors for anxiety and whatnot.” Harry nods at that. “What about alcohol? You’re twenty-six, you must enjoy a drink after a long day.”

“A glass of red once in a while, sure.” He nods. “But I’m not really a heavy drinker, I never have been. I’d say if anything I’m a social drinker, but you watch me carefully at a party you’ll notice that I nurse the same drink.” He smirks.

“I’m the same way. A little bit of a buzz is fun, but anything more can be a bit scary. I actually cannot remember the last time I had a real drink.” She looks off in thought.

“Well, can’t you drink now that the baby’s here?”

“And have to succumb to a pump and dump?” She scoffs. “No way, that would be a total waste. It’s torture enough to sit there while a machine sucks the milk out of my-“ She stops herself. “Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Anyways, your resume was impressive, and you were quite articulate in your cover letter. You’re the only candidate I’ve invited for an interview.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She nods. “I really wanted someone with experience, not someone fresh out of college looking for a place to live. You’d really be okay with living here?”

“Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor. My long-term goal is to either have a daycare or pre-school of my own someday. Not having to pay rent for a while would really help me save up for that.”

“That’s an incredible goal to have, Harry.” She smiles, impressed by his ambition. “What questions do you have for me?”

“I just want to clarify, your daughter is eight months?” Jane nods. “And what’s her name?”

“Lilly.” Jane smiles.

“That’s a beautiful name.” Harry smiles. “Why exactly do you need a live-in nanny?”

“I work a lot.” She sighs. “And I’m a single mom. I want her to always have someone here that she can depend on and feel comfortable with. Sometimes my work drags me out in the middle of the night, or I have to take a phone call at an odd hour. I just want someone else here in case I can’t be if something comes up.”

“So, her father’s not in the picture?”

“No.” Her features sour a bit. “He doesn’t even know she exists to be perfectly honest with you. I found out I was pregnant after we broke up, and I decided not to tell him about her. He was a deadbeat moocher, he would have been useless.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but thank you for telling me. May I ask, how old are you?”

“Twenty-nine, does that matter?”

“No! No, I was just more so curious. You seem pretty successful to be in a home like this. In the advert, you stated I’d be given a car as well, that’s not exactly cheap.”

“You’ll be given access to one of my cars.” She says. “I’m not giving you a car, make no mistake about that.” She smirks. “I’m an author, a successful one.” Harry tries to think if he’s ever heard of a Jane Watson before, but he’s coming up blank. “You’ve never heard of me because I have a pen name. If it’s all the same, I don’t really want to share it with you. Not yet, anyways.”

“Sure…wait…are you offering me the job?”

“Not quite. I’d like you to meet my daughter. I want to see how she interacts with you.”

“I’d love to meet Lilly.” He smiles.

“Great, before we do that, do you have more questions?”

“Yes, who’s MaryAnne? Is she, like, a maid or housekeeper?”

“No.” Jane laughs. “She’s my personal assistant. I usually answer the door myself, but pumping took a bit longer than usual.”

“When did you publish your first work?”

“When I was twenty.” She smiles. “I was still in school, and I decided just to self-publish. It took off, and a few companies reached out to me. I eventually got an agent, and the rest was history. I’m a fast writer, I’m able to churn out more projects than most people, and for whatever reason they keep becoming hits. One of the reasons I travel a lot is that a couple of my works are being turned into television shows, and working out those contracts is a lot. I want to be a part of the process to make sure the stories are told correctly.”

“That’s incredible!”

“it is.” She nods. “I never thought I’d be a television producer, but here I am. I don’t really want Lilly around all that, so there’s another reason for having a live-in nanny.”

“This may seem like a silly question, but will I have time off?”

“Oh my goodness, of course! The salary is negotiable as well. You’ll have weekends off, as well as all bank and national holidays. You’ll also earn vacation time and sick leave like at any other job. You’ll be given a benefits package as well, if you need health insurance.”

“You…you provide stuff like that?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I’ve just never heard of a nannying job quite like this before.” He blinks. “It feels too good to be true.”

“I’m just a firm believer in compensating someone properly. I believe in investing in the people you have.”

“Right.” He swallows. He almost starting to feel like he was going to be her sugar baby or something, but he obviously knew that wasn’t the case. “You asked me about my dating life, what about yours?”

“I’m also single. Lilly is my top priority, and then comes my work. I’m completely fulfilled as is.” She stands from her desk. “Come, I’ll give you a tour of the house, and of the in-law space, and then you can meet Lilly.”

“Okay.” He stands up and follows her out of the office.

She shows him the living room, which felt more like a study. There was an entertainment room with a huge flat screen, deluxe loungers, a pool table, and bar. She shows him to the kitchen which was equally as extravagant. She brings him upstairs to show him all of the bedrooms.

“This is Lilly’s room.” Jane says proudly.

“it’s beautiful, I love the light purple.”

“So do I.” She says. “My room is down the hall, don’t think you need a tour of that.” She laughs and they head back downstairs. “Here’s the inside entrance to the in-law, but there’s also an exterior entrance you can use…or if you have guests over.” Harry’s in awe of the space. It was larger than his apartment. “It’s a one bedroom flat essentially. There’s a full bath en suite, and there’s a half bath over there. Open concept kitchen and living area. It’s fully furnished as well. Feel free to decorate it however you like. I just ask that this space stays yours. There’s really no reason for you to bring Lilly in here, you know?”

“Sure, yeah. This is amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it. Let’s just hope Lilly like you.” Jane smirks, and they head back to the main part of the house, and into Lilly’s playroom. She was sitting with MaryAnne in a large rocking chair. “M, you can feel free to go back to your office if you like. Harry’s going to get acquainted with Lilly.”

“Of course.” MaryAnne stands up with the baby, and hands her over to Jane.

“She has an office here too?” Harry asks.

“Of course she does, and one of the guest rooms upstairs is hers to use when she needs it.” She kisses the top of her daughter’s head. “Lilly,” she coos, “I have someone I’d like you to meet.” She gestures for Harry to take her, and he happily does so.

“Hey, baby girl.” Harry coos. Bright hazel eyes look up at him in wonder. He lets her latch onto his index finger. “It’s so nice to meet you.” He looks at Jane. “She’s precious, Miss Watson.”

“Isn’t she?” Jane beams. “She’s really been enjoying her bouncy, and messing around with her blocks. I have some CD’s I like having her listen to as well. Oh! We did a paint with pudding night as a sensory play thing, it was a hoot.” She chuckles.

“Those are great, aren’t they? Very stimulating, and it teaches the child that sometimes messes are okay.” He looks down at Lilly and smiles. ���May I sit with her in the rocking chair?”

“Please!” She gestures to it, and she sits down on the loveseat in the room. Harry sits down with Lilly, cradling her carefully. He adjusts her so she’s able to stand on his lap. She bounces herself and giggles. “Look at that!” Jane exclaims. “I love it when she does that.”

“She’s awfully sweet.” Harry smiles, and then he looks at Jane. “How much do you feed her?”

“I give her roughly twenty-four to thirty-two ounces a day. You’ll know how hungry she is or isn’t in the moment. I’ve started giving her pureed butternut squash, mashed bananas and strawberries, she’s got that puffed baby cereal as well. I’ve also started giving her ground chicken in really small doses just to get her some protein, but right now I’ve mostly been sticking to fruits and veggies. You must know a lot about what foods to give a baby?”

“I do.” He nods. “You’re still producing that much milk to give her daily?”

“I’ve almost been wishing I’d dry up. I get so sore somedays.” Jane sighs. “But I figure it’s good for her to have it while I can still make it. I’m not opposed to formular or anything…but I like bonding with her in that way. I got rid of her baby acne by rubbing my nipple on her skin, it was like magic.”

“It’s certainly a trick of the trade.” He smirks at her. “I remember learning that in one of my courses, and I was amazed. You all are super humans.”

Jane watches Harry play on the ground with Lilly for a bit. Harry was already so wonderful with her. Harry starts to smell something, and so does Jane.

“Think it’s time for a diaper change.” He chuckles and picks her up. “Would you like me to change her?”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you do it.”

He brings Lilly over to the changing table, and lays her down.

“I know you’re all warm and cozy, but I need to disrupt that for a moment.” He says to the baby girl who was babbling and blowing little spit bubbles, totally unbothered. Harry unsnaps her onesie, and lifts her legs to detach the diaper. His eyes widen at the type of diaper that’s on her. “You cloth diaper?” He looks at Jane.

“It’s better for the environment.” She shrugs. “There’s a trashcan for the…um, poop, and there’s another can for the diapers. I give her a regular diaper for bedtime just because it’s easier to change her in the middle of the night and in the morning, but daytime I use the cloth diapers.”

“Makes sense to me.” Harry disposes of everything, and grabs a few wipes to clean Lilly up. She took a powerful stinky.

“I blame it on the pureed peas.” Jane laughs.

“It doesn’t even phase me anymore, honestly.” Harry says as he gets a little baby powder on her. He grabs a spare cloth diaper, and gets it on her. He snaps her onesie back together and lifts her up. “There we go, good as new, darling girl.” Lilly blows some bubbles at Harry, and blows some back, making her giggle. Jane beams at the two of them.

“It’s about time for her afternoon nap. Would you like to put her down?”

“I’d love to.”

Harry carries Lilly upstairs with Jane. She flips on Lilly’s white noise machine, and makes sure her favorite blankies are in the crib. Harry sits down in the large chair in the corner of the room and starts to rock her gently, giving her soothing rubs. Jane watches as Lilly’s eyelids start to droop. She fights it at first, but Harry continues to soothe her until she’s out like a light. He carefully stands up and sets her down into her crib. The two back out of the room quietly, and make their way down the stairs.

“Let’s go back to my office.” Jane says, and Harry follows her there. Once they’re both seated, she starts speaking again. “Well, the job is yours if you want it.”

“Really?” Harry felt every worry from his life leave his body.

“Yes.” She chuckles. “You’ve really impressed me, and I think Lilly’s quite taken with you already. I’d love to have you as her nanny.” She takes out a few forms. “May I have your references? The background check will take about a week. How soon could you start after that?”

“Right away, honestly.” He hands her a sheet with his references.

“Here are the tax forms you’ll need to fill out, a form for direct deposit, and some information on your benefits. You can get everything back to me by the end of next week.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, I’m so excited. I can’t wait to get started, Miss Watson.” He stands to shake her hand, and she stands as she takes it.

“Please, you can call me Jane.”

[simpsiren]

jaehyun x reader

description. A relationship with Jaehyun wasn’t always perfect. There wasn’t a definite label on it, which only sent the relationship down a complicated pathway as we tried to find the meaning of our love once again.

genre. ANGST, college!au, enemies(?) to lovers, dancer!reader x barista!jaehyun

word count. 7k~

warnings. toxic relationship, im so sorry i had to make jaehyun a bad boy here BUT IT HAS A GOOD ENDING I SWEAR

a/n. hihiii so this fic is basically based on using lyrics of a song to form a story and for mine ill be using boyfriend by ariana grande so hope youll enjoyy! please check out the other stories by the other authors here too!!

“I don't wanna be too much

But I don't wanna miss your touch

And you don't seem to give a fuck”

It’s been weeks. Weeks since I’ve talked to Jaehyun. Weeks since I’ve made any form of interaction with him. Weeks since I had his body close to mine.

He’s been ignoring me and yet I still can never guess why. I saw him walking out of his Psychology class today. I put my foot down, determined to settle on the decision that I just have to force it out of him instead of floating around mindlessly trying to dissect and figure out his weird attitude.

He walked down the hallway, bag lazily hung on one shoulder. He wore his black hoodie and grey sweatpants. His messy and unkept hair bouncing in the air with each step he took. It meant that he’s had a bad morning. I knew him long enough to know that if he doesn’t put effort into looking good then it meant that he wasn’t having any of it. I did think twice before approaching him. But he has left me in the dust for too long for me to handle.

“Jaehyun.” I said with a firm voice, running up to him and grabbing his arm tightly. He stopped in his tracks, his head turning slowly as his eyes trailed from my grip and to me. “What?” Jaehyun asked, sounding annoyed with his brows furrowed and narrowed eyes.

“What? That’s all you have to say?” I jerked my head forward, copying his same expression except that mine was intensified with how arrogant is What sounded. “Three fucking weeks. And that’s all you have to say?”

Jaehyun shook his arm to get off of my grip. Due to the force of his strength, I stumbled back slightly. He folded his arms, hands hugging his waist as he glanced down with a sigh and looked at me. “What do you want me to say?”

I scoffed loudly, running a hand filled with frustration through my hair. I adjusted my tote bag on my shoulder before standing firm and upright in my spot.

“An explanation on why the fuck you’re ignoring me would be nice, you know.” Jaehyun smacked his lips, almost in an awkward manner. But he kept silent for at least ten seconds, just staring down at me.

“I have nothing to explain.” Jaehyun finally let out dryly. But in a way it sounded like he was mad. My pupils flared. Rage was starting to build up in me while he kept up his nonchalant attitude. Jaehyun shoved his hands in his sweatpants and walked off. I would have stopped him, but I chose not to.

I didn’t want to annoy too much if I asked him again. All I wanted was to know why he kept ignoring me all this time. But it seemed like he didn’t care. Like he was able to erase me cleanly out of his life, ignoring me completely. He avoided my glances in class, he acted as if he didn’t hear anything when I called out to him and he’d walk past me casually as if nothing between us happened.

I stood there, staring at his back as his figure started to get smaller and further till he turned a corner and disappeared. I balled a fist in my hand, squeezing it so tight that my fingernails made an impression on my skin and having red marks on my palm.

To be honest, as much as I was mad at him, I missed him a whole lot more. I missed having his arms around me, I missed his whispers, I missed my fingers running through his soft locks. I missed his touch. I didn’t know I could be this touch-deprived till he ignored me. I walked back to my dorm, specifically Mark’s so that I could let off some steam.

“Wait like actually?” Mark shouted from the kitchen while he took out the large tub of strawberry ice cream and watermelon slices from the fridge.

I screamed into the pillow more, digging my face into it till I finally lifted my head up and took in a deep breath, turning my head sharply to Mark. “Yeah. Can you believe it?!” I shouted back, watching Mark bringing the desserts and taking a seat next to me. I shoved the pillow beside me and slumped into the couch with folded arms.

“I never thought he’d do something like that. He’s always been kind to me. And everyone.” Mark commented, picking up and watermelon slice and munching on it with a dreamy sigh. I huffed, grabbing the ice cream angrily and picking up the spoon, shoving it in forcefully to take a spoonful and eating it. “Not to me apparently.” I said with rolled eyes.

“We were completely fine before. I don’t know what happened and that’s what’s driving me insane!” I groaned out. After forcing Mark to get me ice cream, I thought my anger would subside at least a tiny bit. But having Jaehyun running circles in my mind has done it for me. Isn’t mind Jaehyun suppose to be the tired one here?

“Ah wait!” I alerted Mark, gaping my mouth open as I quickly turned my head to him. Mark does the same with raised brows. “Huh what? You know why he’s ignoring you?” Mark tilted his head and leaned in with curiosity.

I shook my head furiously, making Mark backed his head till his double chin showed. “Then what?”

“The dance assignment! Shit I forgot! Did you start?” I dropped the tub in my lap amd slapped Mark’s thigh vigorously, starting to get panicky as I remembered the assignment I’m suppose to pass up in a month’s time. Mark gave a half-shrug. “I’m doing solo for this one. Have you not started?”

“No! Urgh I can’t do solos. Is there anyone that wants a duet?” Mark puckered his lips, tilting his head up as he thought about it for a moment. “How about Taeyong?” He suggested. I looked at him with disbelief.

“Um hello? It’s Lee Taeyong. I’m pretty sure he’s doing solo. Even if he were to do a duet, all the girls would be fighting for the spot next to him.” I reached forward to pick up a watermelon slice and shoving it in my mouth despite the fact that I still had a little ice cream in my mouth.

“You never know. Just ask him next practice.” I let out a quiet ‘tsk’ I stared down at the table while I slowly chewed and swallowed all the food in my mouth. At least now I had something to do that can hopefully get my mind off Jaehyun.

“And I might not be the one for you

But you ain't about to have no boo.”

During dance theory in the lecture hall, I kept my eyes on Taeyong, who was sitting in the center a few rows lower than me. I rested my chin on the palm of my hand, head facing him and I pondered about how I can master up the courage to talk to him.

He’s the best dancer among all dance majors. From techniques to theory, he’s gotten perfect scores every time. It felt somewhat wrong for me to talk to someone of a high status like that. And of course his talent and visuals has had girls swooning over him for years.

I snapped back to reality when I reallse everyone started to pack and stand up from their seat. I blinked my eyes rapidly as I looked around before turning back to Taeyong, heaving a sigh as I notice him still standing there. I quickly packed up my things, slinging my tote bag on and rushing down the flight of stairs to where Taeyong was.

I was now standing in front of him, his bright red hair standing out while he kept his eyes on his things while packing up. “Taeyong?” I called out softly, bending forward. He finally lifted his head up. “Hi?” He asked, questionably.

“Um I was wondering what you’re planning to do for the assignment.” Taeyong glanced sideways before meeting my eyes. As I stared at him, I really now could see why all girls fall in love with him. I’ve never seem to notice since I’ve always been caught up with Jaehyun.

“Actually I’m-”

“It’s fine if you have another person to do duet with you. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of options and that’s totally fine I understand-”

“I didn’t even finish my sentence.” Taeyong cut me off with a light chuckle, a small smile forming on his face. He was so attractive. “Oh right sorry.” I blurted out, turning my head to the side and rubbing the back of my neck nervously.

“I was saying that I haven’t thought about what I wanted to do yet.” Taeyong stood up, holding his bag in his fingers with the handle. He was so close to me and I got extremely terrified with his height. Though the gap difference wasn’t much. I guess I’m just intimidated by his presence. “Mark recommended that we should team up.” I finally let out, forcing myself to not beat around the bush anymore to get this done and over with.

Taeyong’s smile got a whole lot brighter and bigger till his eyes form a thin line. “Sure! Been doing solos too much and you’re quite good.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. Firstly, he said yes. Secondly, he noticed me dance before? I mean of course we saw everyone dancing but I never imagined Taeyong to actually look at me dances.

“Wait really?! Oh my God thank you! Um so do you have any classes after this?” I bounced on the ball of my feet excitedly, a smile unconsciously forming on my lips. Taeyong shook his head. “You want to start today?” I nodded my head eagerly.

“Alright. Let’s head to the dance studio. We only have one month left.”

Due to the limited time we had, it forced Taeyong and I to have dance practices almost everyday, particularly every night. We’d either use the dance studio and his own one out of campus that wasn’t far away. I started to bond with Taeyong more and more, realising how sweet and soft he was despite looking so intimidating at first. I liked the time I spent with Taeyong. He was able to make it fun for us even though we’d be laying on the floor dying by the end.

One practice, Taeyong and I just finished cleaning up our choreography that Taeyong was expertly able to come up by the third practice. It became normal for us to just lay down, arms and legs spread out on the floor as we stared up at the ceiling and let out loud and heavy breathing be heard.

That is, until my phone rang.

“You should get that.” Taeyong rolled over, his stomach on the floor while he kept his upper body up with the support of his elbows and forearm on the floor. I sighed, frowning. “I can’t be bothered to move.” The phone’s been ringing for minutes now.

Taeyong chuckled and stood up after taking in a deep breath, reaching his hand out to my bag and sliding me my phone. “Thanks.” I muttered as Taeyong sat down beside our bags to grab his drink.

I looked at the caller, instantly sitting up straight when I reallsed it’s Jaehyun. My sudden actions caused Taeyong to let out a, “Who’s calling?” I assumed he examined my shocked expression after asking that as I kept my eyes on the phone, Jaehyun’s name bolden on my screen.

I then remembered the fact that I blocked his contact a few months back and it had a time limit on it. And I guess the limit ended today.

“I’m picking up the call. And if I start screaming, you might want to run. Cause’ I’m about to get a lil bit psychotic.” Despite my warning, Taeyong let out a humorous laugh, nodding his head in response. “Alright, alright.” He said, waving his hand out lazily as a way to say, “Now go pick up the call.”

One click of a button and I brought my phone up to my ear, hearing Jaehyun’s heavy breathing. “Where the fuck are you?” His voice was low and deep, one filled with anger, but not the shouting kind. “I’m at a dance studio...?”

“Yeah and with who?” Jaehyun growled. I turned my head to the mirror, seeing Taeyong looking at my back. “With Taeyong. So what?” I questioned him, wanting to sound nonchalant.

Jaehyun scoffed in amusement. “At two in the morning?! You serious right now?!” His voice raised with each word, he was now screaming and I began to get scared. “How’s this your problem?! I’m practicing for my assignment with Taeyong. What the hell did you think I was doing!” I couldn’t help but shout back, wanting to fight and top his level of rage and anger. I had the right to be mad since he ignored me for so long. But for him to suddenly care about what I do and who I’m with? That wasn’t going to cut it for me.

“I don’t give a damn. I’m picking you up right now. Tell me your location.”

“No! We’re not done practicing!” I lied, groaning as I leaned forward and placed a hand on my forehead to cover my eyes.

“Practice another day-”

I didn’t notice Taeyong creeping up behind me, flinching when I felt his hand on my wrist, pulling my phone away from my ear. He snatched it out of my grip and held the phone to his ear. “You heard her. We’re still practicing. I don’t why you’re so worked up. But you can speak with her tomorrow. Have a good night now.” Taeyong sounded extremely professional, proceeding to end the call and handing my phone back.

“You didn’t have to...” Taeyong sat down beside me and sighed, the two of us now facing the mirror as we stared at ourselves. “I didn’t want you to go psychotic.” He joked, making me laugh slightly, though it hurt my core due to the physical training we did before actually practicing.

“Is that your boyfriend or something?” He sounded curious. I kept silent, looking up as I try to phrase who Jaehyun was to me. But I ended up with no answer. “I don’t know. We’re just... complicated.” I whispered. “Let’s not talk about Jaehyun. I’m getting sick of it.”

Absentmindedly, or perhaps not, I laid my head slowly onto Taeyong’s shoulder. He didn’t move and instead stayed there as comfortable silence filled the air, not giving a thought about our sweaty bodies touching each other.

Biology lecture ended. I was walking out of the hall when I thought of texting Taeyong to see if I could meet him for a short practice. I didn’t know why, I just wanted to see him and do anything with him, it didn’t have to be practicing.

Before I could even type a single letter, my wrist was suddenly being pulled back from behind, making me fall back a few steps till the grip guided me to stand. I looked up, seeing Jaehyun standing in front of me. Immediately, my eyes looked back at him filled with arrogance. “Why were you with Taeyong yesterday?” Jaehyun asked. Suddenly, his eyes grew soft and sweet. Which made me very surprised. It’s been long since I’ve seen the sweet side of Jaehyun before he ignored me. It made me feel something in my stomach indeed.

“I told you I had practice. I’m doing a duet with him for my assignment.” I said with a quiet sigh. Jaehyun ran a hand down his face, biting his lower lip as he looked away for a moment. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry... for getting worked up. I shouldn’t have since it’s for school.”

I clicked my tongue in amusement, smugly folding my arms and placing my weight on one leg. “An apology but no explanation? You’re an odd one Jaehyun...”

“We need to have a proper chat.” I tilted my head slightly at his weird words. Confused, but also nervous as to what he wanted to talk about.

We ended up going to his dorm. His roommate was out. We sat down on the couch together, his body leaning forward to reveal his back while I leaned back into the couch. There was a gap between us, which made me feel weird. The space in between was just... just there. And the fact that we used to cuddle on this couch made this more awkward.

“So?” I asked, my curiosity already killing me. Jaehyun let out a frustrated sigh. “I think we should just cut whatever we have completely.”

“What...?” I didn’t know what else to say. I wasn’t sure what to feel either. I could tell he was breaking down silently. I didn’t even need to look twice to confirm that. But I was breaking at his words as well, looking down to my lap amd biting my bottom lip. “Why?”

“I don’t know what we are,_____. Are we friends? Cause’ from the way we treat each other we’re definitely not. We aren’t in a relationship together either. We aren’t friends with benefits. We’re going back and forth and I’m sure you’re as tired about this as I am.”

As much as I wanted to deny, I couldn’t. Our relationship and what we were to each other was certainly not definite. It always confused me and put me in a tough spot. The way we treated one another was as if we’re in love. Maybe we were, or maybe we weren’t. Questions about us had always kept me up all night. And I guess it is right that we just cut it off completely.

“You’re right. I don’t see why we should be together. Or not. I don’t fucking know.” I stood up, making my way to the door. I had my hand on the doorknob. At that moment, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted everything to go back to normal. To when I would be in Jaehyun’s lap as we talked for hours, his turn table playing old school songs that I’ve never heard of but grew to like. To when we would go out together and do whatever we wanted till late at night. Basically back to when any of this confusion even happened.

“You still haven’t told me why you completely shut me out for three months straight though. It hurt me. You owe me an explanation soon. Goodbye, Jung Jaehyun.”

“I wanna kiss you, don't wanna miss you

But I can't be with you 'cause I got issues.”

Jaehyun could only seat there in silence, not sure of what to do now. His mind went blank the moment the door closed. He felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. He leaned forward to take it out, proceeding to pick up the phone without even looking at the caller.

“Hey.” Jaehyun said plainly. He heard a few shuffling before someone comes up to the phone, their breathing could be heard. “Jae. I need to see you. Now. It’s urgent.” He recognised the familiar voice immediately.

“Soo? Why are you calling me?” Out of all the people that could’ve called him, she was the one that Jaehyun would least expect a call from. Let alone one that he wanted to hear from either. “A matter we can’t discuss on the phone. You know where to meet. In ten minutes.” The call quickly ended.

Jaehyun raised a brow at this. Many questions and possibilities popped up in his head. He quickly dashed out the dorm after grabbing his necessities, wanting to get this done and over with.

He waited by the park. A place that he and soo have had many memories. Ones that he wish to forget. But upon his visit to the park, of course they all had to come crashing back in his mind.

Soo came and motioned him to sit down on the bench that faced the lake. The dark sky being reflected on the lake’s surface as the cold breeze of the night touched their skin. “It’s about us.”

“There’s nothing between us.” Jaehyun was quick to reply, wishing he could just get out of this situation and think over about his other problems. Particularly the one about his complicated love life with a partner that he wasn’t even sure was his partner in the first place.

“Our parents are suspicious of us, Jae. You say that us not meeting anyone would solve it but if they don’t see us together-”

“It’s been three months do you think I wouldn’t realise it?” Jaehyun leaned forward and covered his face with both his hands, exhaling before lifting his head up back and looking at the scenery, hoping it’ll put him at ease even the slightest bit.

“You don’t want this. I don’t want this either. I have my own problems you know. I have someone I love.” Soo nodded her head, humming agreeably. “You’re right. We both don’t want this. But our parents do.”

Jaehyun groaned in annoyance, turning his head back to look at her. Soo blinked her eyes rapidly. She’s never seen him this mad before. “I know that way too damn well.” Jaehyun slapped his thighs and stood up, shoving his hands in his pocket and turning around swiftly to Soo.

“I don’t care what you do. You have a higher status than me and therefore you have a higher chance and authority for our parents to listen to you. Tell them I’m sorry but I really don’t want to be tied down to someone I don’t love.”

With that, Jaehyun stomped off, making his way back to the dorm. He immediately plopped himself onto his bed, sighing and he stared up the window. The couldn’t stop thinking about his lover. The fact that he couldn’t explain to her made his heart breal in every way possible.

He jusy wanted to be with her. But it was now his fault that she hates him now. And he’s not sure of what to do. The fact that he had to call off whatever they had couldn’t be anymore painful.

He wanted her with him right now. To have her presence right next to him. His arm wrapped around her as a way to protect her small figure from the world though he knew well enough that she was capable on her own. He wanted to plant light and sweet kisses filled with love all over her face. He wanted her touch of love that could send electric shocks throughout his body. He just missed her so.

“Even though you ain't mine, I promise the way we fight make me honestly feel like we just in love

'Cause baby, when push comes to shove.”

It’s been a few days since Jaehyun and I called it quits. And honestly, I was falling apart. I missed him a lot. It felt weird not having him around. It felt like back when he ignored me for three months. Except now the anger has disappeared, and all I craved for was his presence.

“The performance and assessment’s tomorrow. You ready?” Taeyong asked, breathing heavily as he walked to the speaker to stop the music. I squatted down on the floor, hugging my knees to catch my breath before gulping and nodding my head. “I’m surprised we managed to do this in a month despite our professor giving us four.” Taeyong nodded back agreeably.

“Let’s just hope we do well tomorrow then.” Taeyong walked back to me with his hands shoved in his pockets. I eyed him up and down taking the time to admire his outfit, which was simply just a tucked out loose white button under a muted blue waistcoat and black jeans and pointed shoes. The blue waistcoat was just to match his light blue hair that he dyed recently that suited him very well.

“Your outfit is simple, yet so pleasing.” I mumbled, my finger placed under my chin. Taeyong chuckled, taking one step closer to me. For some reason it made my heart race, the space between us got smaller and smaller unintentionally. “It’s probably because of my physique and natural features.”

Taeyong bent down to meet my eye level, tilting his head as he gave his cheeky eye smile that I got used to seeing very quickly. I ruffled his hair and laughed loudly. “Of course it is. You’ll definitely outshine me tomorrow.”

Taeyong slipped a hand around my waist, pulling me closer. This was definitely normal since our choreography included him doing this, but it made my face hot this time. “The purpose of a duet is to help each other shine together. I don’t think I’ll ever be outshining you.” Taeyong commented softlt with a gentl smile.

It was finally time for the performance. Everyone at the hall was seated, murmurs and chatters can be heard all over. Backstage, everyone was rushing to get ready. But I couldn’t help but peek at our professors and dance instructors that were about to grade us from behind the curtains.

“Nervous?” I heard Taeyong’s voice from behind me as he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. I glanced back before taking in a deep breath. “We’re the fifth to go. Calm your nerves.” This time, he placed his other than on my other shoulder, proceeding to rub his hands up and down slowy and soothingly, which instantly calm me down. “I’m trying.” I whispered.

The two of us waited anxiously backstage as we counted the number of performers going up on stage. Now’s already the forth and we’re up next. Our names got called. Before we headed up on stage, Taeyong held my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine for a short moment before flashing me a smile and letting go, proceeding to walk forward as I followed behind.

The music played and we started to perform. The lights on the audience shined brightly and I could see everyone’s faces. Of course to calm myself down I kept my eyes straight ahead. Everything went as how it should. Taeyong and I danced perfectly in sync as if we were made to dance together. Taeyong had to lift me up for a few counts, holding me by the waist. And one glance to the audience and I instantly saw Jaehyun sitting somewhere in the middle, his eyes looking right at me. I was shocked but I had to continue.

We ended the performance with a deep bow. I smiled widely at the audience, but I avoided Jaehyun’s eyes completely. Taeyong and I walked off stage. “That’s was amazing! You did so well!” Taeyong shouted as he pulled me into a tight hug. I hugged back and laughed, panting heavily as I tried to catch me breath. “You were great too, Taeyong.”

Taeyong pulled away from me. And as we were about to walk to the changing room, I felt a hold on my wrist. A tight one. I turned around, noticing Jaehyun right in front of me. He looked over at Taeyong before me. He didn’t say a word and dragged me away. I glanced back at Taeyong, his worried eyes making me want to release my grip off Jaehyun but I knew I can never since he was way too strong.

“What the hell do you want?!” I shouted when we finally came to a stop at a secluded and somewhat dark corner. “I can’t see you dance with Taeyong. I got jealous.”

My eyes squinted at his words, completely confused and bewildered. My mouth gaped open as I let out a scoff. “Jealous? Why should you be? We aren’t anything anymore. What’s my relationship with Taeyong have anything to do with you?”

“I don’t like seeing you with him, okay? Didn’t you ever think about how I felt when you’re always staying up late with him for practice? Or did you even think about me at all?” I grew quiet, struggling to even form a sentence of what to say.

“I don’t like seeing you with any guy.”

“You aren’t my boyfriend. You don’t have any say in who I hang out with.”

It was now his turn to keep silent, avoiding my eyes completely as he looked elsewhere. “You aren’t mine. But don’t you think we had something between us at all? It drives me nuts whenever I think of you. I had my reasons for avoiding you, okay?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Sorry but I can’t handle any of this right now. I’m way too tired. Let’s talk some other time.”

With that, I walked off, trying to find Taeyong who just came out of the changing room with his outfit hung on his arm while he wore back his loose white tee and sweatpants. “You okay? I got worried.” Taeyong immediately rushed over to me and looked me up and down, concerned as to what happened just now.

“Yeah I am. I’ll go back to campus now. I just need some rest.”

Before taking a step, Taeyong stopped me. “Need a ride?” I shook my head.

“Thanks for the offer, but I much rather be on my own for now. I have too much on my mind.”

“I know we be so complicated

Lovin' you sometime drive me crazy

'Cause I can't have what I want and neither can you.”

I ended up staying late at night, staring off into the ceiling while hugging my cat plushie. And all I thought about was Jaehyun. I could never get him off my mind no matter how hard I tried to force myself to sleep. I could be staying up since I didn’t have classes the next day but my body was too physically tired. Yet my mental state seemed to be wide awake.

The next morning, I stayed in my dorm, pacing back and forth in circles as I figure out what to do. Suddenly, the door opened, making me flinch in shock as I realised it was just Mark. “You look stressed. You nervous about the results?”

“My mind is all over the place, Mark. Jaehyun’s driving me crazy and I just-” I grabbed my head with both my hands, letting out a loud groan and I plopped myself on my bed next to Mark.

“Won’t it be easier to just settle things with him?” I gave Mark and unimpressed look. “We did. We promised to not see each other again.” I let out a dreaded sigh. “But he came up to me yesterday and now all I can think about is him.”

Mark swung an arm around me, clearing his throat. “Then just tell him to back off. Now and forever. I can’t see my friend going crazy because of some frat boy.” I chuckled shaking my head. “He’s not a frat boy.”

“Sure acts like one.”

I hummed, giving a moment to think it over. “How can I meet him today though? He’s working.” Mark raised a brow, facepalming. “You know he has a thing called breaks, right?” Mark deadpanned. And just like that, I made my way to the cafe where Jaehyun supposedly worked the afternoon shift.

I walked in, the bell above the door ringing to signal that someone has entered. I didn’t see Jaehyun brewing the coffee. I walked up to the counter, seeing a familiar face and decided to ask him where Jaehyun was.

“Hey, Jeno?” I called out to him gently, watching pouring his ready made coffee into a small cup. He looked up, instantly smiling brightly when he made eye contact. “Hey! Haven’t seen you for so long! Looking for Jaehyun?” I nodded, gladly thankful that he read my mind.

“He went out somewhere for awhile. He’s coming back soon. Want to wait here while I serve you some caremel frappe?” I exhanged his smile with mine, nodding my head eagerly. “You know me well, Lee Jeno.” I tapped my hand on the counter before walking off, taking my usual seat at the far corner of the cafe that’s out of sight from public eyes. I used to sit here when I would wait for Jaehyun’s shift to end before walking back to campus. It felt weird coming back here after avoiding it for so long.

After a few minutes, Jeno brings me my drink. I thanked him as he backed away and I resumed my waiting. I checked the time on my phone. Thirty minutes have passed and he’s still not here. Each time the bell rang, I instantly lift my head up only to find that it wasn’t Jaehyun.

Heaving a sigh, I leaned forward, my shoulder raising up as I continued to stare at the entrance. Finally, I saw Jaehyun through the window, walking to the door. But... he’s with a girl?

The door opened and Jaehyun walked in, the girl close beside him. She was wearing Jaehyun’s hoodie too. The plain black that he often wears. I kept silent, wanting to see where all this was going. Why was I feeling something? I shouldn’t be... right? I have nothing to do with Jaehyun, let alone his love life. Wait why am I even assuming that they’re together?

Jaehyun went up to the counter. He turned around to look at the girl. They were smiling and laughing together, which made the knots in my stomach tighter and my heart began to ache at the sight. As cliche as it sounds, I muttered a, “That should be me.”

The girl took off his hoodie. She was wearing a shirt under it. It seemed like she wanted to give it back but Jaehyun insisted on her keeping it, continuously shoving the hoodie back and forth till she threw it at him, kissed him on the cheek and ran out the cafe laughing. I frowned. I really didn’t like how this was going.

Jeno went up to Jaehyun, motioning to where I was seated. I instantly looked out the window as if I didn’t even see Jaehyun coming in and was minding my business. I heard his heavy footsteps walking up to me, and he sat down, dragging the chair closer to the table. “You didn’t say you’d be here.”

I turned my head and faced forward to Jaehyun, picking up my drink to take a sip, nodding my head. “I didn’t.”

“Who was she?”

I couldn’t help but ask. I was too eager to know. Too eager for something to confirm my suspicions, closure. “A friend.” Jaehyun said after exhaling sharply.

My lips form a thin line, my brows raising for a moment as I gave a “You sure about that?” expression with a hum. Jaehyun stared at me for a moment. I couldn’t read his face. “She’s just like Taeyong. Someone I’m working with for a project.” He said with simple directness.

Anger started to settle in, the tension between us growing tighter and tighter with each moment of silence in the air. “Your project partner comes waltzing in wearing your hoodie and giving you a kiss on the cheek? Some partner there.” I replied with sarcasm, nodding my head over and over.

Jaehyun cocked a brow, the side of his lips turning up slightly as he leaned forward, so close that our faces were a mere inch away from each other. “Now you’re jealous? That’s cute.” He chuckled lowly.

I blinked my eyes rapidly. Is he really going to do this right now? Despite me blushing slightly at him calling me cute. I couldn’t shake the fact that he was probably trying to get back at me and making me feel how be felt when I was with Taeyong.

“Why can’t I? You were jealous when I was with Taeyong too.” I blurted out, not sure if that was the right thing to say.

“You aren’t my girlfriend, and I’m not your boyfriend. But we can’t see each other with anyone else, or touch anyone else. We can’t have who we want either. Make an inference. Connection, hidden meaning.”

“Don’t bring the method to answering History questions into this.” I couldn’t help but laugh softly at his attempt to joke. I knew very well right now wasn’t the time, but I just missed it.

“Stress high when the trust low

Bad vibes, where'd the fun go?

Try to open up and love more.”

“Don’t you miss it?” Jaehyun asked, his face getting soft and gentle. He reached his hand out to mine, holding my finger with a light touch. Our eyes went down in unison, staring as our hands fit perfectly together.

“We’re complicated, indeed. We aren’t sure of who we are. And we don’t even know the reason for that. But doesn’t it all come down to whether we love each other...?” Jaehyun lowered his voice to a whisper, pur noses were now touching as I gulped, closing my eyes for a moment as I inhaled his naturally strong scent that not even his perfume could mask.

“I guess...” I started, breathing heavily. “I guess we’re just scared. I don’t know about you, but I can somewhat admit that I’m scared.”

“It’s been years, Jaehyun. Years since we’ve showed affection for each other yet we never seemed to get anywhere. But I liked it nonetheless. Despite the fact that we were just... stagnant.” I smacked my lips. “Or not perhaps I’d call it going back and forth.”

At that moment, I thought of us. Jaehyun and I. Years ago. When we first started. I met him here, at the cafe. I got addicted to him from first sight and I’d make it a mental note to visit him everyday and demand that only he should make and serve my orders. That’s how we grew close. Not on campus, but out. We kept our relationship like a little secret. But that was only for the fun of it; for excitement and thrill. I liked that about us. Being alone and only having each other. Turning back time was what I always wished I could do.

“I love you, _____. I missed us. When we were just happy. I guess this all started when I ignored you. I’m sorry for that. And you know I mean it.” Jaehyun couldn’t keep his eyes on me. He constantly looked down or avoided my gaze. He bit his lip intensely, as if trying to hold back tears.

“But if you would let me, I’ll explain it over dinner.” Jaehyun gulped, breathing in as his chest puffed up. I wasn’t quite sure of what to make of this. But in the end, my main goal was to settle this, on a good note. Whether I’d be with Jaehyun in the end or not. I just needed closure.

“Sure.”

Jaehyun offered to meet me at a high end restaurant. Somewhere I’ve never been in years since I was just like any regular college student. Poor.

I didn’t know what to wear. And I guess my outfit seemed to lower itself a lot when I stepped into the restaurant. I glazed my eyes over the place, spotting Jaehyun at the far end wearing his usual all black shirt, jeans, and shoes. A combination that never failed to cup his masculine body perfectly.

“You didn’t have to take me to somewhere this expensive.” I said, sitting down. Jaehyun smiled softly in greeting. “It’s only slightly above average.” He commented.

We ordered our food. It was taking quite awhile to come. “Um.. I suppose I should be giving that um explanation to you now.” Jaehyun spoke up, his hands on the table with his fingers interlocking with each other. I nodded my head, pushing the glass of iced water that was served to us earlier on, bringing it in front of me and leaning forward to take a sip.

“My parents want me and Soo, the girl you saw at the cafe to get together. I honestly didn’t even know why. And I never cared either.” Jaehyun lowered his head, fidgeting his fingers. “And just so you know, I never had feelings for Soo. She has someone else. The two of us agreed that we’d still maintain our private lifes and not let it interfere us.”

I bit my lower lip. I could tell he was telling the truth, that he was being sincere. It made my heart soften. But I didn’t want to show it. I didn’t want to seem easy and to just fall for him all over again just from a simple explanation.

“Are you going to do anything to fight back against your parents about it?” I asked, not wanting to say silent throughout.

“I simply told Soo to do something about it since she would have more influence on them than me.” Jaehyun leaned in, again his hand creept up on mine. He held my hand in his, bringing it up slowly and planting a light kiss on my fingertips. A gesture that I only ever knew would feel this amazing because its him. He was the only person I’ve met to have such a gentlemanly feature.

“Can we slowly... get back to how we were? I know it’s my fault. I know you won’t forgive me immediately. Do whatever you want with me. Whatever decision you choose, I’ll just have to accept it.” Jaehyun whispered, his voice growing quiet with each word as he looked down to my hand and caressed it with his thumb. I could still feel his kiss lingering on the tips of my fingers.

I brought my hand up to his chin, lifting his head up and eyes off the table, forcing him to look me in the eye. I leaned in and kissed his cheek, letting my lips stay there for a long moment before pulling away. I could see Jaehyun smiling slightly at my touch. He thought he could cover it up with a cough, making me giggle softly.

“I’m not forgiving you just yet. But I do admit that I missed how we were two years back.”

[softyoongiionly]

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Seventeen

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, College! Yoongi, Sub! Yoongi

Word Count: 9.1k

A/N: Hi friends! Here is a new chapter for you. I know it’s been a super duper long time since I’ve updated this series but, I plan on wrapping up the current timeline (wink wink) within the first half of the year! Special shoutout to my amazing friend @bulletproofbirdy​ who I love so so much. Without her big genius brain, I would literally not be able to get through any of my wip. Another huge shoutout to @gldnrecs​ @kithtaehyung​ @yoonia​ and @randombtsprincessa​ for being my lil hype team. I love you! Also, thank you to everyone over at @bangtansorciere​. I am so grateful to have met so many lovely new friends this year! okiii bye. I hope you like it!

NOTE: all bolded words indicate when characters are speaking Korean

Warnings for this Chapter: ok here we go…(TRIGGER WARNING)

moderate angst, drug use (marijuana), mentions of anxiety, brief allusions to physical abuse, very brief allusions to drug addiction, alcohol 

Chapter Seventeen: Daegu and Dirty Laundry

No thoughts, head empty (and in Yoongi’s lap)

The two of you are in his living room, bags packed by the front door, awaiting the cab to take you to the airport.  

In a few short hours, you were leaving on a plane to Daegu to visit Yoongi’s older brother and, you can tell by the way he’s shuffled around all morning that he’s anxious.  

Thankfully, Hoseok and Namjoon woke up with him, knowing that emotions would be high and well- offered to get him high.

“This is a really good indica strain hyung,” Hoseok assures him as he hands over a zip-lock bag, “I rolled a joint with this last night and passed out in like 30 minutes.”

Yoongi, dressed in an all-black sweat outfit, accepts the bag into the palm of his hand, before grabbing the pipe that’s resting on the couch cushion beside him.

“Did you get it from that same guy?” Yoongi asks, his voice heavy beneath the obvious tension he’s feeling.

Despite his attempts to remain casual, you know him well enough to feel how nervous he is. He’s practically vibrating beneath you but, you know that pointing this out will only make it worse so instead, you merely rub the outside of his thigh whilst he packs his pipe. 

“Yeah, Jin’s friend-” Hoseok responds before nodding to Namjoon, “He’s honestly killing it right now. Jin told me he’s made like 5 grand already.”

Namjoon raises his brows, “Really? Damn, that’s impressive, I’ve never heard of anyone taking off that fast.”

“Jin has a lot of contacts-” Yoongi offers, adjusting the bud once more before grabbing his lighter, “it probably helped him get started. Plus, I think a lot of people around here have been looking for a good plug. Whatever he’s doing is working though, the high from last night was pretty good.”

At Yoongi’s comment, Hoseok’s lip melt into a salacious smirk as he raises his brows and jerks his chin towards you, “Are you sure it had nothing to do with that one over there?” He teases, “Yah, what are you so quiet for? You haven’t given me shit all morning...”

His comment makes you giggle but Yoongi cuts in before you’re able to respond.

“She’s tired, leave her alone.” He scolds but his lips twitch at the sound of your laughter.

Hoseok snickers as you finally decide to sit up. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you even as he lifts the pipe to his mouth. Tucking yourself into the side of the couch, you finally decide to add to the conversation.

“Is the guy you pick up named Yugyeom by chance?” The sleepiness in your tone is more obvious than you were expecting and, it makes Yoongi smile to himself whilst he lights his pipe.

Namjoon nods, “Yeah, it is. Do you know him?”

Yoongi’s attention is on you even as he inhales his first hit, the nerves in his body standing at attention, waiting to be soothed.  

“He was in my human sexuality class.” You remember, with a grin on your lips, “That’s actually where I met Jin too. I just had a feeling that it was him because, he literally always came to class high. Plus, him and Jin were like inseparable.”

Namjoon winces, “Of all the people to get stuck learning about sex with. I’m sorry...”

This makes you laugh, as your mind journey’s back to all the days you spent trying not to make a scene as Jin made sexual puns in the middle of a serious lecture.  

“It definitely kept things interesting...” You offer, “I’m glad to hear that Yugyeom is thriving on his own. He mentioned his dad wanted him to join the family business but, I could never picture that man in a suit.”

Hoseok chuckles before his face tightens with intrigue, “Oof that makes one of us. He would look fine as hell in a suit.”

Namjoon grins, nudging Hoseok with his foot, “You got a thing for him?”

For the first time, you see a hint of shyness overcoming Hoseok’s demeanor but he shrugs it off, trying to appear casual, “I mean- I don’t know about all that. I’m just saying that he would look good in a suit.”

“You’d both look good in suits- together...” You offer, grinning at him, “Maybe in a private venue somewhere...”

Hoseok rolls his eyes but the smile creeping onto his lips is unmistakable, “Shut up- you guys are fucking wild. All I said is that he was hot...”

Giggling, you shrug your shoulders before nodding over to Yoongi, “Yeah well that’s how it starts-” You warn, “Then the next thing you know, you’re sitting on the subway, simping over a selfie he sends you.”

Yoongi’s soft lips immediately turn up in a small smile, the shy boy in him peeking out. At first, he says nothing as he merely passes the pipe to Namjoon, who mirrors a similar expression.

Hoseok is back to his normal mischief, feeling relieved that the heat is off him for the time being.  

“Are you saying you’d marry Yoongi then?”

He expects you to be flustered by this question but, the answer is simple.  

“This man?” You raise your brows as you point to Yoongi, “You’re asking me if I would marry this man right here? Hoseok- I would wife this man up so quickly, it would give you whiplash.”

Your comment causes the three of them to laugh and, to add to the shifting vibe of the room, you feel Yoongi wrap his arm around you in an effort to pull you into his side.

“You can’t say shit like that right in front of them, they don’t need to see me soft...” He mumbles shyly in your ear before kissing your cheek, his heart singing with validation.

“Hyung, you act like we don’t already know who whipped you are for this girl.” Hoseok laughs, eagerly accepting the pipe from a coughing Namjoon.

Yoongi ignores him with his arm still around you, checking his phone with the other hand, “The cab should be here soon, do you need anything before we go?”

“Hyung, you’re gonna leave your piece here right? Cause we kinda need it-”  

Namjoon eyes him suspiciously, “What happened to your bong?”

Hoseok cringes, “I may have accidentally dropped it off the rooftop...”

Namjoon’s eyes blow wide open, “What the fuck were you doing on the rooftop to begin with?”

“I wanted to vibe! The bud was good and, I wanted to listen to the J. Cole album and get in my feelings hyung, get off my dick-” He laughs, playfully defensive.

“Hey that’s J Cole song-” You point out giggling at the double meaning, the exhaustion from earlier finding you once again.

“Exactly, I’m glad you caught that-” Hoseok winks at you before Yoongi finally responds.

“I’m not going to take my pipe through international security. Pot isn’t legal in Korea so, I wouldn’t be smoking while we were there anyway.”  

“Oh shit that’s right-” Namjoon remembers, “I really need to keep up with what’s been going on back home, I heard they were opening the discussion about it recently but, I haven’t kept up with it.”

Hoseok interjects, “What about your brother? He probably has connections.”

Yoongi shrugs, “He might but, I'm not going to worry about it.” He glances at his phone again before turning it towards you, “Our car is here, you ready to go?”

You offer him a small smile as you nod, your cheek tingling still as he places another kiss to it.

He stands up first before holding his hand out to you. Eagerly, you lace your fingers with his and, hoist yourself off the couch.

“Alright you two-” Namjoon stands too, brushing his hands over the front of his hoodie, “Try and send us updates when you can yeah?” He shoots a look towards Yoongi that is filled with an emotion that breaches casual concern.  

Yoongi understands perfectly, offering Namjoon a solemn nod in return as he pats his shoulder, “Yeah I will. I’ll text you when we land...”

Moments later, the two of you are in the back of the cab. Yoongi takes the middle seat so he can be close to you, his fingers are interlaced tightly with your own despite the fact that his hand is already sweating.  

He’s anxious.  

You can feel it and, you’re faced with two options.

Address it

Distract him  

It’s not an easy choice but, you figure this weekend will already be filled with heightened emotions so, you’re not sure if you should breach this topic so early. At the same time though, you don’t want to act like nothing’s wrong and dismiss what he’s clearly feeling.  

So, you land somewhere in the middle.  

Yoongi’s jaw is loaded with tension as you reach over and turn his face towards yours. He doesn’t register what you’re doing at first but he is in tune with your touch as always so, he doesn’t question it.    

Leaning in, you tuck your lips between his own, whilst your free hand comes up to encase the side of his face. You feel him relax beneath your kiss, a sigh leaving his nose as he kisses you back slowly.  

You pull away, pecking at his lips a few times, your thumb rubbing over his cheek.

“It’s going to be ok.” You murmur softly for the sake of his privacy, “We’re going to get through this.”

Yoongi’s eyes open just enough to show you the sheer amount of trust present in them.  

He believes everything that comes out of your mouth and, despite the anxiety that’s raging inside of him, he knows you’re right.  

Pressing his cheek against your hand, a soft smirk graces his lips as he resists the urge to pour his heart out to you for the millionth time.

“I wish it was socially acceptable for you to kiss me like that every time I feel like this...”

You giggle, pecking his lips again for good measure, “It would make our psych presentation really interesting that’s for sure.”

He chuckles, his face adorably smushed against your hand, “I keep forgetting that we have to do that. I don’t even remember the last time we worked on it...”

“Me neither.” You say at first before your eyes light up with realization, “Oh my god wait- the last time was when we watched that horrible spider movie at my apartment! Ugh no wonder I couldn’t remember, I’m pretty sure I've blocked those images from my mind as a coping mechanism.”

Yoongi’s face lights up along with you, “Oh shit, that’s right-” He laughs, “Did we even finish our lists?”

The two of you share another round of laughter, caught up in the ridiculous realization that you had lowkey abandoned your final project.  

You lean over to pull your phone out of your purse, “Here let me check-” Scrolling through your notes app, you find the project tab before allowing your eyes to wander over it, “It looks like I still have deep water and you technically still have night clubs and horror movies. But I mean- you did perform in a night club recently so I feel like that should count.”  

He nods thoughtfully before his face lights up with realization once more, “Oh yeah, I already wrote about that in the research journal, I forget to tell you. That was definitely more of a direct confrontation than I was planning.” He chuckles, “We did sit on the beach and read terrifying facts about the depth of the ocean for mine, would that be enough for you to write about?”  

The two of you have maneuvered so that you’re tucked into Yoongi’s side again, his arm draping comfortably around your shoulders.

“You still have horror movies left though so, I feel like I should maybe confront one more directly too. Besides, I have a feeling that I’ll be able to distract myself in the water if you’re there-” You mumble suggestively, which causes him to smirk as he leans his head back against the seat.

“Oh yeah?” He jerks his head towards you “How so?”

Resting your face on his chest, you smile to yourself and think of a response that’s appropriate for a perfect stranger aka your cab driver, to hear.

“Cause if something touches my feet in the water, I could simply latch myself to your back for safety purposes.” You explain matter of factly.

“If something touched your foot while we were in the water, I’d swim away so fucking fast- I don’t think you’d have time to latch on.” He explains through his laughter

Scoffing, you smack your hand against his chest as you sit up fully, wiggling out of his grip, “So you’d just leave me to die???” You accuse, “Also, last time I checked- you weren’t an Olympic swimmer, what makes you think you’d just zoom out of there???”

Yoongi’s cackling at this point, his hand on his stomach, his previously tense features now smoothed out beneath his amusement, “I’m not saying I would leave you necessarily-”

“Necessarily!” You point out, laughter erupting from your lips as you pinch his side, “After everything we’ve been through, you’re really just gonna let a sea monster eat me!?”

His eyes widen, as his laughter increases, “A sea monster?! Who said anything about a sea monster? Where did they come in????”

“I said something touched my foot???? Obviously that means there is a sea monster, lurking in the depths, trying to eat me and you-” You poke his sternum, “You just said you would leave me to die!”

Yoongi’s face is reddened with the force of his own laughter, his hand subconsciously coming up to cover your own. With his eyes tearing up and his mouth parted to make way for his giggling, you can’t help but admire how beautiful he is.  

Especially when he’s laughing...

He wipes his eyes with his free hand, still chuckling lightly to himself even as he brings your hand to his mouth, “Alright, alright- let's be clear- I would never leave you to die.” He promises, still smirking as he kisses the back of your hand, “Realistically, I’d probably panic and jump on YOUR back.”

With narrowed eyes, you wiggle the fingers he has pressed to his lips, “Well I don’t know how that would work out because, I’d probably you know- swim away so fucking fast that I don’t know if you’d have time to latch on...”

Yoongi snickers as you imitate his voice but, rather than retaliate he simply tugs you by the hand his currently holding and, kisses you.  

It’s soft and sweet- lasting only for a few seconds until he’s pulling away.

“Thank you for coming with me.” He says suddenly, the volume of his voice decreasing significantly.

And as usual, you know that he wants to say way more than he does. But you’re perfectly fine with that.

Yoongi’s subtly is a specific brand and, you’ve grown to love how the little things he does allows him to pack so much emotion into a simple phrase.  

You feel lucky to love such a special person.  

“Of course.” You return his simplicity, pecking his lips once more before settling back in your original position.  

The airport was a blur.  

You’re thankful it passes quickly because, the process of getting through security makes you anxious.  

Yoongi ushers you into your seat before taking both of your bags and, storing them in the overhead compartment. You can’t help but smile as he turns to help an older woman with her luggage as well.

He smiles ( :] ) at her, bowing his head slightly as she thanks him. Yoongi offers her a tiny wave and takes his seat beside you, not noticing the way you smile fondly at him.  

When he takes his seat beside you, the two of you settle into a comfortable silence. Once the flight crew permits it, Yoongi takes his laptop out and begins toying around with one of his songs. You pull your headphones out as well and find one of your favorite playlists. Leaning back against the seat, your eyes eventually begin to droop until you can no longer keep them open.  

The next thing you know, you’re being woken up by someone gently patting your thigh.  

“Sleepy girl...” Yoongi croons in Korean, the sound of his voice alone making you smile, “We’re landing soon.”

Slightly disoriented, you blink your eyes a few times before you’re finally able to focus on your boyfriend’s face.  

You slump against him, rubbing your cheek against the material of his hoodie. He chuckles softly, his arm sliding out from underneath you in order to drape across your shoulders.  

“I’m sorry I fell asleep.” You mumble

He chuckles again, nodding with a false sense of consideration, “Ah yes, you missed so much. Two hours ago, the flight attendant came by and asked if we wanted anything to drink. It was a wild ride...”

Giggling sleepily, you shake your head at his sarcasm before pointing at his laptop.  

“Were you working on your composition project?”

He bites his bottom lip and shakes his head, a bashful expression on his face “No, it was just a song I’ve been working on for a while now.”  

He leaves it at that and, due to the signal from the flight crew, Yoongi begins putting his stuff away as the rest of the cabin prepares for landing.  

“Are we taking the train?” You mumble, still fighting off the remnants of your nap.

Yoongi purses his lips, his eyes narrowed in concentration whilst he scrolls through his phone.

“No, I have a cab waiting for us.” He responds, “It says it’s already here. So, when you get out of customs, just meet me right outside. It should just be a straight shot from immigration.”

You nod and rest your head back against his shoulder, “Okay.”

He puts his phone away, allowing his hand to find yours. Intertwining your fingers, he takes a deep breath- his mind clearly elsewhere. You squeeze his hand to acknowledge this but, the two of you don’t comment on it.  

There is no need.  

With the tightening of your grip, so much has already been said.  

Less than a half hour later, the two of you are once again seated in the back of the cab.  

“It’s probably going to rain a lot while we’re here.” Yoongi explains, his voice low and slow, “This is Daegu’s rainy season. I’ve been checking the weather periodically and it looks like there might be a storm coming but, it doesn’t look too severe.”

You look at the window after his comment, noticing that the sky is overflowing with heavy clouds, swollen and gray with the promise of rain.  

“We’re approaching monsoon season, we call it uh- jangma.” He tells you and his explanation makes you smile.  

Despite the circumstances, you’re very honored and excited to be in Yoongi’s hometown. You know the memories he associates with this place are complex but, there is a shift in his tone now and, he sounds eager to teach you about this place: the place he called home for so long.  

And you’d gladly listen for hours.

“Jangma-” You repeat, trying to get the pronunciation right, causing him to refocus his attention back on you. He smiles softly and nods,

“Good job.”  

Your heart skips a beat at his approval as you return his smile, “Is there gonna be thunder?”  

Yoongi chuckles, “Do you want there to be thunder?”

You nod eagerly, “I love storms. When I was little, I would just sit at the window and watch them go by. I’m pretty sure our neighbors thought I was crazy. But I don’t know- I've always had a thing for bad weather...”

He smirks, glancing out the window and then back at you, “That explains a lot.”

Giggling, you cock your head, “What do you mean?”

Yoongi gestures to himself, his now playful gaze looking at you expectantly. You laugh at his insinuation,

“I see the resemblance.” You concede, gently patting his cheek, “You’re not nearly as gloomy as you think you are though.”

“To you-” He retorts, “You always forget that...”

“Pleaaaase.” You disagree, “You’re soft for other people too, don’t lie. I’ve seen the way you deal with Namjoon and Hobi...”

He shakes his head, “Yeah but things are still different with you, I don’t think you realize that.”

You nudge yourself underneath his arm once more, cuddling up with him as best as you can in the back of a cab.

“I know you’re especially-” You emphasize the word, “soft for me. I’m just saying that you come across more approachable than you think you do.”

Yoongi smirks to himself, seemingly understanding something that you don’t.  

“Soft is an understatement.” He retorts, turning to kiss the top of your head.

“Whateverrrr.” You tease him, your eyes trailing down to focus on his hands, “I’m still right.”

He chuckles, his figure shaking lightly beneath you, “You usually are.”

The cab pulls off of the highway, and it’s then that you begin to notice the way the scenery around you shifts from a middle class/ metropolitan vibe to something much much...fancier.  

Through the winding streets, the cab begins taking the two of you up a pretty steep hill before turning onto a street full of ridiculously nice houses.  

White marble, giant glass windows, and driveways filled to the brim with luxury vehicles zip by as the car turns down another street. Similar in theme but greater in size, the new street had much larger houses on more sizeable plots of land- likely designed to give the owners privacy amongst their neighbors.  

You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you then and, you know very well that he’s observing your reaction.

He knows that even though he told you his brother was wealthy that, that phrase alone wouldn’t be enough to properly convey what that entailed.  

“This neighborhood is really beautiful,” You observe softly, eyes still glued to the window, “The architecture is so different than anything I’ve ever seen.”

And of course, this makes Yoongi smile.  

Because of course, you aren’t making a fuss about the degree of luxury before you. You’re finding the beauty in what otherwise is a very stressful situation.  

Finally, the cab pulls into a driveway right behind a black Tesla before putting the car in park.  

He and Yoongi exchange a few words in Korean as Yoongi hands him a small wad of money.  

“Thank you.” You murmur to the cab driver with a slight bow of your head to which he responds with a tight smile and a similar bow.  

You and Yoongi unload your bags from the trunk and as he is reaching for your hand, the front door of the house swings open.  

A man a few inches taller than Yoongi steps out. His black hair is neatly arranged in a middle part and he’s dressed in a beige turtleneck and white slacks. As he comes closer, the resemblance between the two of them is staggering.  

“Hello!” He calls with a warm smile, his voice bright, “Welcome! Come on in, the rain is supposed to pick back up soon.”

His expression only glows as he spots his younger brother. He looks excited to see him but, his movements are apprehensive.  

The unspoken tension is already present and, you can feel Yoongi almost freeze up as he draws near. Subtly, you coax him along offering his brother a warm smile as the two of you approach the landing just in front of his door.  

Normally, you don’t get nervous when meeting new people but, this situation is laced with so much complexity- you aren’t sure how to act.

Thankfully Yoongi finally speaks, “Good to see you hyung. Thank you for having us on such short notice.” His tone is almost unrecognizable as he gestures to you, “This is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N-” He gestures back to his brother, “This is my older brother Geum-jae hyung.”

Bowing your head slightly, you smile once more, “It’s very nice to meet you, thank you for having me.”

Geum-jae nods, eyeing you softly as his lips press into a tight line, “It’s so nice to meet you Y/N. I promise you, the pleasure is all mine.”

Yoongi motions for you to step in front of him so, you follow his lead and trail behind his brother through the doorway.  

Geum-jae's home resembles a marble statue. It’s clean, beautiful and, elegant- but lifeless. Geum-jae has artwork of various styles all over his walls, crisp white couches, sleek granite countertops and, stainless-steel appliances however, there is not one bit of evidence that anyone even lives here. The house feels empty despite the amount of effort put into its appearance.  

It makes you sad.  

“You have a beautiful home.”  

Your voice echoes off the dead weight of the walls, the paintings themselves seeming to arch a brow at your comment. Geum-jae however, smiles and nods graciously,

“Thank you. I just moved in not too long ago so, there is a lot I want to do. I definitely could have used this one’s expertise-” He nods to Yoongi, “He was always really good at that kind of stuff...”

Your boyfriend smirks, his eyes taking in his surroundings but failing to really focus on anything; he was too wound up, “You could have. I would have charged you though...”

Geum-jae chuckles and you see him glance at Yoongi fondly for a split second before he quickly reverts to his casual demeanor.  

“I put you guys on the second floor facing the skyline-” He gestures to the ivory staircase, “I’m sure you want some time to freshen up and relax so, please take all the time you need. I’m having BBQ brought over tonight but, if you’re hungry- feel free to help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen.”

Yoongi allows you to step in front of him whilst taking the suitcase from your hands. The two men follow behind you as Geum-jae continues laying out the plans for the evening,  

“I have a few virtual meetings to attend that I wasn’t able to move around but, I will be free as of 7 this evening. Until then, please make yourselves at home. I am really-” He seems to take a deep breath for emphasis, “really happy to have you here.”

“Thank you hyung.” Yoongi smiles slightly once the three of you reach the outside of the guest room, “Good luck with your meetings. Let me know if you need help with dinner.”

Geum-jae responds with a tight nod, “Will do. I’ll be in my office so, feel free to explore.” As he pushes open the door for you, he allows his own pained expression to meet yours, “I’m honored to meet you Y/N. Thank you for coming all this way with my brother.”

“Well-” You squeeze Yoongi’s hand gently, “He’s lucky I like him so much...”

Cheeks flushed, Yoongi rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but his lips are practically puckered against the smile he’s trying to stifle.  

“That’s fair.” Geum-jae chuckles, “Let me know if you two need anything. I’ll just be downstairs...”

With that, Yoongi pushes open the door and allows you to step inside before following behind you.

“Wow.” You whisper to yourself as you take in the scene before you.

The walls are painted a soft gray and surrounding only three sides of the bedroom. The fourth wall is made entirely of glass and given that the house rests upon a hill, you’re able to make out the skyline of the inner city. A giant four poster bed sits in the middle of the room, covered completely in a white duvet and three rows of pillows. Dark gray curtains sit on either side of the massive window as various muted colors accent the room in the form of a dresser, two nightstands and, a set of couches at the end of the bed.  

Yoongi is silent behind you as he sets the bags down at the entrance of the room. He pushes the door shut and allows his eyes to move over the space for a moment.  

It's nice, he thinks, but he can’t find himself to be very impressed.  

He knows where this money comes from and, even though his brother is out of the crime sector now, it still feels strange to acknowledge his wealth.  

Noticing his silence, you turn towards him, eyes tracing over the features of his face to assess his mood.

With a slight and subconscious pout, he looks at you, his body seemingly full of a breath he wants to take.  

“Do you want to lay down for a bit? I know you didn’t sleep on the plane.”  

At your offer, he seems to deflate slightly, lips turning up at the corners, “I think I want to shower first...”

Immediately, you nod with an encouraging smile, “Yeah go shower babe, I’ll just-”

He interrupts you, sticking his hand out and flexing his fingers in a grabbing motion, “Come with me.”

His offer makes you giggle, “You want me to shower with you?”

Yoongi closes the distance between you, using his grabby hands to lock onto your hips, “No, I meant like come with me as in come watch me...yes I want you to shower with me.”

Your laughter heightens as you pinch his side, causing him to recoil before chuckling.

“You’re such a punk today...” You scold.

Yoongi simply chuckles warmly as he kisses the side of your head, the tone of his voice lowering significantly, “That usually means something to you doesn’t it?”

It does.  

It usually means he’s having trouble vocalizing his needs and, he’s in need of attention. And the type of attention is usually a specific brand.  

And it usually comes with a little bit of pain.  

However, you don’t think it’s a good idea to indulge that side of Yoongi’s desires at the moment because, his emotions aren’t fully organized. You know the talk with his brother is causing him a lot of stress and, as much as you liked to wreck his body right now- you know it’s best to wait until later.  

That doesn’t mean you can’t take care of him though...

“Come on-” You urge him, grabbing his hand and practically running towards the bathroom, “Let's get you clean, king.”

He laughs, stumbling into the bathroom which is just as nice and similarly colored as the room.

“I’m a king now?”

His question goes over your head as you notice the ridiculously oversized bathtub in the center of the room. Biting your lip, you turn towards him and point at it.

“Do you want to take a bath instead? The shower looks amazing and all but- this thing literally looks like a jacuzzi.”

Yoongi eyes it curiously, his teeth finding his bottom lip, looking a little apprehensive, “How would you want to sit in it though? I kinda uh- I kinda thought maybe we could stand under the water for a bit together, like last time...”

He wants you to hold him.

He’s not going to say it but, he needs it.  

Like really bad.

You can see his nerves creeping into his posture so, you decide to act quickly before he somehow convinces himself that he’s being too needy.  

Looking around the room, you spot a few things that could aid in his relaxation: candles, bubble bath, a neatly folded pile of fluffy gray towels...

“I’ll show you.” You assure him, “Close your eyes really quick- no peeking. I have a plan...”

Yoongi looks at you, suspicious all over his face, “I’m scared.”

Giggling, you raise your brows for emphasize, “Oh you should be-”

He can’t help but smirk at your tone despite the anticipation swimming in his gut. He trusts you though so, instead of arguing- he shuts his eyes.  

Shuffling around the bathroom, you set things up in record time, turning the water on, pouring the rose scented bubble bath beneath the stream, and lighting a few candles along the ivory counter. Yoongi maintains his smirk the entire time, folding his arms across his chest, stifling his desire to make a snarky comment.  

“Alright,” You sigh, dusting your hands off, “Ta daaaaa.”

Yoongi opens his eyes, blinking a few times before taking in the scene in front of him. It changes his smirk into a grin really quickly as his cat-like eyes flit over to you.

“Are you planning on sacrificing me?” He quips, nodding to the candles.

Snorting, you roll your eyes, “If you keep talking shit, I just might-” You threaten, laughter forming on the tail end of your sentence, “Get naked...”

Yoongi snickers, his face full of satisfaction as his finger tuck beneath his hoodie to tug it over his head. The two of you undress in a small bout of silence and attempt to sneak glances at one another’s naked form.  

“I’m going to get in first and then you’re going to sit in front of me, between my legs...” You explain, trying not to shiver as the cool air of the bathroom begins to grow uncomfortable.

His brows raise, “Between your legs?” He confirms, “Say no more...”

Once again, your eyes are rolling but this time, there is a smile on your lips as you move to take your spot beneath the warmth of the water. Yoongi has to take a deep breath as he watches you, his emotions brewing dangerously beneath the surface at the sight of the woman he loves.  

He still doesn’t fully understand it.  

He is still meet with endless confusion when he starts to think about why you’ve chosen to be with him but, he knows better now than to question it.  

You have your reasons, he thinks, and he has a million of his own.  

Looking up from beneath the mountain of bubbles, you pat the top of them, looking at him expectantly, “Come here.”

He grabs the hand that you extend towards him, balancing himself on it whilst he steps into the tub. Modestly, he turns his body away from you for a second so he’s able to bend down before pivoting beneath the water and settling against your chest. The bathtub is big enough for the water to go past his shoulders and, he feels his entire body relax once he feels your body against his.  

“Comfy?” You check, draping your arms across his chest.  

Yoongi nods, his head leaning back and resting against your left shoulder. Once it lands there, you turn and kiss his temple which then prompts one of his hands to reach up rest on yours. Silently, you place a few more kisses against his hairline, allowing him to decompress however he wants to, not wanting to pressure him into talking about anything.  

And he doesn’t, at least not for a while.  

The only sounds between the two of you are the dribbling of water from the faucet and the low whisper of breathing. Every so often, you kiss his temple, just so he knows that he isn’t alone.

“Seeing my brother is really difficult.” He mumbles, eyes still closed, hand still on top of yours, “Even just seeing his face- it brings back a lot of memories.”

You nod, “I can imagine- especially since it’s been so long.”

Yoongi sighs, his eyes fluttering open and honing in on the ceiling, “I haven’t seen him since I was 18. He came to Sejin’s place just before I moved in with Namjoon. He tried to talk to me to let me know that he was leaving the business but, I barely said anything. I was too angry at him.”

Using your free hand, you rub softly at his chest under the water, silently encouraging him to continue.  

“He never helped me when my father would-” He takes a deep breath through his nose, his throat bobbing as he swallows on the exhale, “the time I told you about, when my father hit me...that wasn’t the only time. It happened often towards the end.”

Your eyes shut momentarily, the pain of Yoongi being harmed stinging your heart like a shot.  

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper, kissing his temple again.

Yoongi’s face turns slightly into your lips, his hand squeezing over yours, “Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I held onto my disappointment in him for a while until I realized something: the only reason my father every laid his hands on me and not Geum-jae hyung was because, I stood up to him.”

“Geum-jae hyung never did and, I think he still carries that regret to this day. I can see it all over his face...” His voice is so low now that it barely makes it above a whisper, his eyes seemingly elsewhere. “Is it wrong that I feel like- like I didn’t just come here to save Sejin’s studio?”

You shake your head, “Not at all...”

He swallows again and takes another deep breath through his nose, “It’s hard you know- during winter break especially; everyone would leave campus and go home for the holidays...and I never knew where to go. For the first two years at school, I spent Christmas alone until Namjoon’s mom finally called me and told me that if I didn’t come back with him, that she was going to make him sleep outside.” He chuckles, smirking slightly at the memory.

Your heart fills with despair then. You didn’t piece it together that Yoongi would have stayed behind during the holiday season. There was so much to unpack from the tragedy that he’s endured; it didn’t even cross your mind.  

“Namjoon’s mom was right to threaten you-” You affirm but then you shake your head, “I don’t think there could be a wrong reason to come here. You deserve to have whatever kind of closure or healing that you need.”  

“I wish I knew what I needed...” He admits, licking his lips before turning towards you, his brown eyes holding all the emotions he can’t vocalize, “I wish everything was as easy as this.”

Following suit, you turn your head so that you’re facing him, “So do I. But I’ll always be here through all the not-so-easy stuff.”

Yoongi smiles then, soft and sweet, delivering a kiss to match. He relaxes into you, brushing his tongue along the inside of your lip just for a moment before pulling away.

“I love you Y/N.”  

“I love you too Yoongi.”  

Eventually, you both got out of the bathtub and into the shower so, that you were able to get clean properly. After a few hours of catching up on missed calls/texts and relaxing, Yoongi gets a text from his brother saying that dinner would be ready in 15 minutes.  

Geum-jae had the finest BBQ in the city delivered and prepared right in his dining room. Banchan lined the center of the table, slabs of meat were grilled one right after the other until the three of you tapped out.  

It passed easier than you thought it would. Yoongi and Geum-jae relaxed in the face of a meal, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them as if no time had passed. It was a touching sight to see and, you hoped that it meant their discussion would come out easier.  

You take your leave after you help clean up, thanking Geum-jae for the incredible food and, letting Yoongi know that you’d be up in the room checking on something for school if he needed anything.  

Which was a total lie but, you needed an excuse to leave them alone for a bit.  

Yoongi feels his heartbeat pick up a bit as he watches you leave the room, the realization of what was coming finally hitting him.  

“Hyung-” He wants to rip the band aid off. “Is it alright if we talk for a moment?”

Geum-jae raises his brows at the switch in languages and nods immediately, gesturing to the table, “Of course. Can we sit here? Or would you rather talk in the living room?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “Here is fine.” He sits back down in his original seat and, rubs his palms against his jeans.

Geum-jae takes a seat across from him, gazing expectantly at his younger brother, “What did you want to talk about?”

Despite Yoongi’s anxiety, he understands that being to the point would be the most effective way to communicate. He wasn’t sure if any past issues would come up but, right now his concern was on Sejin.  

“I know that I told you I needed your help with something but-” Yoongi begins, “It isn’t me who needs your help exactly...it’s Sejin.”

Geum-jae purses his lips, his hands coming out to clasp rest on the table, “Is he alright?”

“The landlord for the studio he runs is increasing his rent again and, he doesn’t have the money to keep it open...” Yoongi’s explanation gets a little rushed as he gets more and more nervous, “I have some money in savings to help out with rent for the next few months but, it’s not enough to keep it open long term and-”

Geum-jae cuts him off, “Tell Sejin to call me. I will send a team to his location to sort everything out. It wouldn’t be a bad building to purchase but if Sejin is willing- then maybe he can look at other properties and I’ll have the money wired over to him.”

Yoongi can’t hide the shock on his face, “Wait- are you serious?”

“Of course. Sejin is one of my dearest friends. I owe him a lot for what he’s done over the years.”

In this moment, regret washes over Geum-jae's face, his eyes reaching out to Yoongi’s in hopes that he understands what he’s alluding to.  

And obviously, he does.  

“Why didn’t you just call me?” Geum-jae continues, tilting his head to get a better look at Yoongi’s expression, trying to read him, “I’ve always told you that if you ever needed anything-”

“I haven’t talked to you in 8 years hyung, I wasn’t just going to call and ask you for a favor.”  

Geum-jae nods, his face tightening with solemnity, “I understand.” A brief moment of silence passes between the two of them before a sigh comes from Geum-jae, “There is so much I want to say to you Yoongi, I don’t even know where to begin...”

Yoongi stays quiet.  

He doesn’t know either.  

He just knows that the only way to get rid of the heaviness in his chest is to talk about it.  

“I suppose I could start with an apology.” Geum-jae concludes, shaking his head as a light scoff leaves his lips, “I could never find the words to express how much regret and shame I feel inside. I could never explain how sorry I am for not protecting you, for not being a better example, for not having a backbone, for being selfish...I was blinded by greed. I couldn’t see what was in front of me.”

Yoongi swallows back his emotion, dreading the way his eyes begin to sting.  

Geum-jae continues, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I just want to apologize and tell you that, even though I played no part in the man you’ve become, I am incredibly honored to call you my brother.”

It isn’t easy but, Yoongi manages to contain the tears that desperately want to fall from his eyes. His chest tightens as he hears his brother’s words. He wades through all the bitterness he feels towards him, allowing himself to feel the full force of his approval.  

“I forgave you a long time ago.” Yoongi swallows, avoiding direct eye contact with him, “I just wish I understood your actions. You were my hyung, I thought you would have protected me and-” Yoongi blinks away the tears as quickly as he can, “and I still haven’t been able to accept the fact that you didn’t...”

Geum-jae shakes his head, “I wanted to protect you. I just didn’t know how- I was scared of him too. You had more courage than I did. It doesn’t excuse my actions but, it’s the truth.”

Suddenly, he reaches out and places his hand overtop of Yoongi’s, a pleading expression on his face, “That’s why you got out. That’s why you have a life. You have friends, you’re about to graduate university and, you have Y/N...” Geum-jae's voice breaks at the end, “Because of your strength, you finally found happiness.”

Yoongi looks at his hand, observing the evidence of his life present on his skin. Scars, burns, callouses, needle marks...

“Are you saying that you haven’t?” He asks, still not meeting his brother’s eyes.

“I’m not even close.”

Finally, the two meet each other's gaze. For a moment, they just stare, glistening eyes to glistening eyes. Overcome with years of repressed emotions, fueled by the desperate need to try and break the cycle, they wordlessly convey an unspoken emptiness.  

They have missed each other so much.  

“I am here now.” Geum-jae promises, the first tear dangerously close to falling, “Hyung is here if you’ll have him. I want to be in your life but, I understand if you want nothing to do with me.”

Yoongi blinks now, and the tears land upon his cheeks, “You’re my hyung...” And it really is a desperate proclamation, “...you’ll always be my hyung...”

The chair screeches against the tile, causing Yoongi to jump in his seat until he realizes what his brother is doing. Rounding the table, stands to the side of Yoongi with open arms and his own tears atop his cheeks.

He eyes him for only a few seconds before standing up suddenly and accepting Geum-jae into his arms. The two of them seem to collapse against one another. Yoongi breaks down and sobs in the arms of his older brother.  

Just as he would have when they were young.

When times were hard and he could take shelter behind the one person who made him feel safe, the first person who ever showed him love.  

“I’m so sorry Yoongi-ah.”  

His words cause Yoongi to squeeze his eyes shut as he nods against the expensive fabric of his brother’s dress shirt, “I know.” He sniffles and pats his back, “I know you are.”

Meanwhile...

You’ve been upstairs, straightening up the bedroom and trying to pass the time without worrying excessively about your boyfriend’s well-being.  

Which turns out to be impossible...

Cleaning around the room/bathroom only takes you about 20 minutes before your flopping onto the massive bed and, pulling out your phone. Scrolling through Tik Tok, you hope for a substantial distraction and, lucky for you- one arrives.  

But, it isn’t on Tik Tok...

Jungkook: So you know Jimin right...  

The text from Jungkook confuses you as you’re pretty sure it's like the middle of the night back home and, it’s not like him to text you outside of the group chat.

You: I have heard of him yes

You: Isn’t he like your boyfriend or something?

Jungkook: ha ha

Jungkook: about that

Jungkook: what if he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore?

Your eyes widen and, you immediately sit up in bed and hover anxiously over your phone.

You: !!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN

Jungkook: shhhhhh don’t yell

Jungkook: my future fiance is sleeping...

You’re about ready to get on a flight back home to kick his ass before your vision focuses on the word he’s just sent.

You: excuse me  

You: YOU’RE WHAT ???????????

Jungkook: …

Jungkook: What did I just tell you smh

You: *whispers* WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT JUNGKOOK

Jungkook: -____-

Jungkook: can I call  

You: ?????? Obviously!!!!

Seconds later, Jungkook’s name illuminates your screen.

“Good evening,” He begins calmly, “I’m having a panic attack...”

You giggle, “What’s going on????”

“Well you see- I am in love with Park Jimin and I fear it may be terminal.”

“Terminal huh? Is that how you describe a lifelong partnership with your one true love?”

“...yes.”

“Jungkook,” You urge him through your laughter, “What is going on?”

You hear him sigh, “I think I’m going to ask Jimin to marry me.”

Squealing, you jump up on your knees, “Wait seriously?! Jungkook!”

“Yah! Don’t yell at me! This is all your fault!”  

“My fault??? How is this my fault?”

“Well technically I guess- it's Yoongi’s fault because, he’s the one that convinced me to get in touch with my feelings or whatever- either way, I am STILL the victim. And now I want to be with him forever and it’s disgusting...”

You flop back against the pillows and laugh again, “If Jimin knew this was how you were telling people you were proposing, he would kill you.”

He doesn’t hesitate, “He’s going to kill me either way Y/N...it’s bad- the other day, he sent me a selfie and, I had heart palpitations for like 15 minutes.”

“If your man doesn’t give you heart palpitations then, that isn’t your man.” You conclude.

“Y/N...” Jungkook whines now, sounding very much like the boy you met back in middle school.

“Jungkook...” You whine back causing him to finally chuckle on the other end of the line.

“I’m scared...”

“I know but, you and Jimin are so perfect for each other, there is no way that this wouldn’t work out.”

“More perfect than you and Yoongi?” He teases, reverting back to being a little shit.

And his question makes you scoff, “Oh sweetheart- obviously not. But second place isn’t bad!”

He laughs now and it’s the full bellied sound that you love hearing.  

“You really think we’re perfect together?”

Despite his inability to see you, you smile at his need for validation,

“Duh. You two are literally soulmates.”

Jungkook is quiet on the other line but when he speaks again, you can hear the giddiness in his voice, “Ok so...will you help me then???”

Back downstairs, Yoongi and Geum-jae are sat at the bar in front of the window that faces his backyard. As he predicted, the rain came back in full force and is now propelling itself against the clean glass. After their emotional encounter in the dining room, Geum-jae suggested that they have a drink together and relax for a moment.  

He had poured each of them a glass of wine, ensuring not to fill his glass up too much.  

“Your girlfriend is a wonderful woman; you made a good choice.”

At the mention of you, Yoongi’s lips twitch, his eyes watching the droplets of water chaotically race down the window, “Thank you. But, it was her who chose me, I’m still working out exactly why.”  

Geum-jae chuckles, “I see you’re still selling yourself short ah? Did you two meet at school?”

Yoongi smirks, “Yeah, we met 6 months ago in my psychology class. She was my partner on our final project.”

“Ah.” He nods, “Things blossomed that way then?”

Yoongi’s heart throbs a bit as his brain begins its recollection of his time with you.  

So much has happened during your relationship, he forgets that he hasn’t known you all his life.

It certainly feels like he has.  

“Yeah.”

Geum-jae chuckles, “You’re so reserved about her.”

Yoongi knows what he means. In the Min family, you always say things as they are. You don’t sugarcoat your sentiments and you definitely don’t play coy.  

“I can’t help it-” He admits, and he can feel the heat on his cheeks now, “I find it difficult to talk about her...”

His brother bites his bottom lip, unable to help how endeared he is, “Can I ask why?”

Yoongi leans his cheek against the palm of his hand, still focusing on the rain, “It’s overwhelming.”

Geum-jae seems to understand but he chuckles anyway, “Do you plan on marrying her?”

His question hangs in the air for a moment. Yoongi’s brain once again travels elsewhere, and he is bombarded with images of you walking down the aisle. He has to take a deep breath as he forces the thoughts out of his head; he’s cried enough this evening.

“I would marry her tomorrow.”  

Geum-jae's laughter increases now but now it bubbles over his lips in an excited fashion.

“Yahhhh! Look at that eh?” He congratulates him, “It’s safe to say you’re off the market for good then? Because I have a few of my friends who have been asking about you.”

This finally makes Yoongi laugh as he turns towards him, “That’s flattering.” He means it too but, he speaks the next set of words with all of the conviction he can muster, “There is no one else for me though.”  

Geum-jae grins proudly and with a raise to his brows, he lifts his glass, “Well, let’s drink to that then.”

The clinking of crystal signifies so much. For now though, Yoongi allows it to represent the future and, all of the possibilities it may bring.  

[rarephloxes]

elucienweek, flower prompt. 

sorry girls!!! I’m late!! Hope it still counts though :)))))))

for @elucienweek <3

rating: G

wc: ≈3.3k

warnings: none!! they just go on a date!!! and bring each other flowers!!

psa: my first language is Portuguese! And this is also the first thing I’ve even written and posted! Ever! So, I’m nervous!! Lol! Enjoy!! Also: outfits link at the bottom!!

~*~

  Elain flitted through her bedroom excitedly, her nerves jittery and drowned in thoughts of the day she was about to have.  

 “But what do you think I should wear?” Elain asked her sister, Feyre, who was just a laughing face in the screen of her phone.  

 “Put me on FaceTime,” Elain’s phone speaker told her “I’ll help you pick.”  

 “Can you add Nesta to the call, please?” Elain asked, eyeing the clothes hanging in her wardrobe confusedly, brows wrinkled.  

  With a sigh, she sat down at her vanity, the gleaming glass of her perfumes and pretty makeup containers beckoning her.  

 Feyre’s laughing face, a picture taken by Rhys, her sister’s husband, winked out to be quickly replace by Feyre's and Nesta’s profile pictures.  

 (Elain knew she ought to be used to the fact that her sister was wed, for she had gone to her wedding wearing a beautiful pink dress matching the few other bridesmaids. She had even danced with Rhysand’s broody brother, Azriel, and overall had a great deal of time, but it was still weird thinking of her baby sister as a wedded woman. Who also was, uselessly, trying to pretend not to be pregnant).  

“Good morning,” Nesta greeted them, a little bleary eyed “What’s this about?”  

 “Did you just wake up?” Asked Feyre with a knowing smile on her lips. Elain knew that if said smile was directed to herself, she’d blush. “It’s nearly 3PM,”  

 “Oh, well,” responded Nesta with a carefully crafted absent-minded smile “You know how Cassian can be... energetic,”  

 “Nesta!” Elain, despite her best wishes and her sister’s rather tame answer, blushed while applying her mascara “Can we please focus on the matter at hand? I really need some help,”  

 “And what, exactly, is this matter?” Nesta inquired.  

 “It’s Elain’s third date with Mr. Mystery Man,” Feyre slightly static voice answered. Elain’s phone had never been quite the same after she accidentally potted and watered it with one of her apartment plants.  

 “Oh! I didn’t know you and MMM had gotten to the third date phase!” Nesta replied with a note of enthusiasm, the buzz of a coffeemaker as her background noise “A rather early time of day for a third date, though, isn’t it?”  

 Elain bristled slightly, but Feyre answered first “It’s a picnic date, Nesta. It wouldn’t be the same if was later. And besides, it’ll be just the right time for they to see the sunset,” Feyre frowned “Did you really just wake up?”  

 “I was taking a nap,” Nesta supplied with her mouth hidden by a mug covered in book details, a library’s name scripted around it “What can I say? Cass really wore me out,”  

 “Girls, please, please, can we stay on topic?” Elain pleaded a little, “I really do need help.”  

 “Oh, those are lovely lashes, Elain” Feyre praised from where Elain’s phone was propped in her vanity. Elain, now applying her blush until she looked somewhat sunburned, questioned “Do you like it? I glue them underneath my lash line, see? It looks nice, doesn’t it?”   

 Perhaps sensing the bit of anxiety on her middle sister’s face, Nesta said “It looks beautiful, Elain. MMM will not even know what hit him”. 

 Smiling at her sister’s compliment, Elain stood up and angled her phone to the side, widening the camera range to the view of her bed and bathroom door.  

 “So,” Elain started, slightly out of frame as she scoured her clothes for something fitting, “I thought maybe a dress? No pants or shorts because I bought a charcuterie board and really am planning to eat the cake Lu... I mean, Mr. Mystery Man-” Elain stopped herself with a laugh, what a silly nickname, dear Gods. Of course, Feyre would come up with something like that “- is going to bring, so nothing constricting in the belly area,”  

 “Ooh! I know! What about the white dress? With the blue flower print?” Feyre suggested.  

 “White? Feyre, a white dress for a picnic? I’m aware you live in a palace and has the wealthiest man in the land of the free to pay for your every wish, but please remember some of us have to do laundry” Nesta said, a laugh woven in her teasing.  

 Before Feyre could answer, Elain interrupted the seemingly lighthearted argument lest she lost her sisters to an everlasting word brawl “It’s cute, Feyre, you’re right. But, Nesta has a point. I don’t want any grass stains on it.”  

 “Besides, I thought I could wear my strawberry dress,” Elain said, placing a pink dress in front of her robe clad form.  

 “Oh, that’s cute,” said Nesta.  

 “Yeah, really pretty,” agreed Feyre.  

 “Then why do you both sound so unsure?”  

 “It’s just that it is a little plain,” Feyre explained carefully.  

 “It’s a 500-dollar dress,” Elain defended “And it has strawberries in it!”  

 “Yes, of course,” Nesta complied, “But maybe something with sleeves less... puffy? Or without a childish print?”   

 Feeling a little defeated, Elain nodded.  

 Afterward, the pile of clothes on her bed rapidly grew and with it Elain’s anxiety.  

 “Gods, nothing looks good,” Elain said, hating the whiny tone of her voice.  

 “Wait, wait!” Nesta startled “What of that sage green dress?”  

 The little dying light in Elain’s chest glittered.  

 “The one from Reformation?” Elain asked hangers chiming while she reached for the dress.  

 “Isn’t it a bit too fancy?” Feyre replied, uncertain.  

 “He is really well dressed,” mused Elain, looking at herself in the mirror, sage dress draped over her front “So you think this matches well with my white Fendi boots?”  

 “Won’t the boots be uncomfortable for a sitting on the ground date?” Nesta countered, voice muffled by the running water she was using to rinse her mug, coffee long gone by then.  

 “Well, I guess,” Elain acceded just as another dress caught her eye, “YES! I think I found the one!”  

 “Let us see it then!” Feyre asked around a mouthful of something.  

 “Wait, let me put it one first” said Elain before skittering out of view.  

 “What are you eating?” asked the corner of Nesta’s face.  

 “Rhys is doing business with these Belgium people. Very fancy. Particularly important Belgium people,” Feyre’s eyes and forehead answered, “They brought a lot of chocolate,”  

 “Quite the stereotype,” A pause “Save me some?”   

 “Sorry, I’m finished with them already.”  

 “Ok! Grand reveal time!”  

  Nesta’s side eye and frown disappeared once Elain popped into frame, a soft off-white midi dress with a high neckline and short sleeves now around her body, accentuating the dip of her waist.  

 “Ooh, I love the slit!”  

 “Yes! And it’s such a nice print too! The red details go really well with your nails! Where did you go to get that set?”  

  Elain squealed, jumping a bit with the balls of her feet, her skirts flaring “I get my nails done with my neighbor’s girlfriend. She’s quite good, isn’t she?” Elain approached her phone, showing her nails to the screen. “Oh, and look at the back,” Elain twirlied, skirts swishing around her calves.  

 More excited cheers ringed around Elain.  

 “Your tits look amazing! What about the shoes?”  

 Elain barely had the time to blush.        

 ” Oh, it’d look lovely with the converse I painted for you!” Feyre pointed out.  

 Elain had to turn away to hide her frown “I’d thought to wear slip on heels?”  

 “Way better!” recognized Nesta almost too quickly “Or maybe the pretty red ones with the ties at the ankles? Low heeled?”  

 “The red ones are pretty! Yes! But the slip-ons are easier,” Elain said, showing the options to her camera “Nude or green?”  

 “Definitely green,” said Feyre as Nesta said “Go with the nude one.”  

 “Do you think I could pull off wearing one color on each foot?” Elain giggled, putting her lip gloss and money purse in her bag, leaving the colorful shoes on top of her vanity chair.  

 “Nah, Nesta’s right, go with the nude one,” Feyre said, mouth foaming with toothpaste.  

 “What was that?” Nesta mocked in a singsong voice “Can you repeat it, please, I couldn’t hear around your toothbrush. Or the sound of your betrayal. I always save you a bonbon or two.”  

 “No, you don’t,”  

 “Well, I always mean to!”  

 Feyre spit off frame and flipped Nesta the bird.  

 All three of them laughed, Elain hurrying around her room to seem like she was ready to leave.  

 “Thank you so much for tuning in for this episode of Sisterly Love,” Elain joked with a big, unnerving smile, a weird laugh she hoped the poor functioning camera of her phone would hide “I’ll see you girls on next week’s episode- “  

 “Wait! No!” Interrupted Nesta with a serious face, “I see you worrying about, pretending you’re late,”  

 Feyre, who was smiling at someone else off camera, joined in as if she’d just caught on “Yeah! Stop... doing that,”  

  “Tell us about MMM!” Nesta demanded, “You can’t expect us to let you go on a date with a creep!”  

  “How do you know I’m pretending?” Elain huffed, her eyes diminished into slits, hands at her waist.  

  “As if you’d be in the risk getting to your date late. You like him too much,”  

  Nodding to her sister’s point, Elain dropped her facade.  

  “But he’s not a creep,” Elain said as she plopped down on her cushioned vanity chair, using the mirror to double check her makeup.  

  “Then what is Mister Mystery Man like?”  

   Elain had no control over the grin that illuminated her face “He’s... charming. Kind. Tall. And a swimmer too- “  

  “A swimmer! Nice broad shoulders then, huh?”  

  “Well, yes, I guess” Elain stammered a bit “He works in Communications. His brother’s dogs just had a litter, so now he’s taking care of two puppies. The cutest little things I’ve ever seen to be honest-”

 “Ok, ok, but how well does he kiss?”  

 “You’ve kissed him, right?”  

 With a quickened heartbeat, Elain confessed “Yes,”  

 “Then come out with it already! Tell us how it was!”  

 “It was a sweet kiss. He dropped me off at home and... well, you know how these things go.”  

 Neither Nesta nor Feyre said anything, urging Elain to keep talking.  

  And if Elain got a little breathless, none of her sisters mentioned “We were heading home after dinner. He took me to the new Italian restaurant near the Sidra, so it was a short walk until my apartment.”  

 “He looked so handsome, I thought I’d melt when he held my hand and I’ll admit I was rather tipsy by then, and he was so warm and... Gods, when he leaned down to kiss me, I turned into a puddle- “  

 “That sounds straight out of that novel you lent me, Nesta,”  

 “He is quite the charmer, isn’t he?”  

 “Yes. Yes, he is” said Elain dreamily.  

 “Elain! Don’t forget to do that thing you do with your lipstick? Makes your lips look so good,” Feyre reminded enthusiastically, dragging Elain out of her stupor.  

 “Yeah, maybe then your next kissing story won’t be so wholesome,” Nesta added with a leer.  

 With a happy giggle, Elain carefully traced a discreet line with her lipliner over her cupid’s bow and covered it with lip gloss.  

 “Yeah! Just like that!”  

 “Oh, I see the difference now. You look stunning,”  

 Opening a drawer, Elain asked “Big hoops or small ones?”  

 “They won’t look good with this dress, though” mused Nesta “Unless you’re wearing the small chunky ones, more oval than circle,”  

  “You mean these?” Elain showed the jewelry, to the camera.  

 “Yes, that’s the one. I knew I should’ve gone with you to get the extra earring holes! You look ten times hotter with all these earrings.”  

 “Yeah, you definitely should’ve” agreed Feyre with a smile “You look stunning, Elain. MMM is a lucky man,”  

 Not bothering to hide her smile, Elain thanked her sisters, the video call ending quickly after their well wishes and goodbyes.  

  With a reinvigorated sigh, Elain gathered her basket, carefully picking up the flowers she had wrapped to gift her date and left her apartment in a flurry of petals and jangling keys. 

                                          ***

  Elain waited by the Velaris Park entrance that viewed the Sidra, inhaling the salty breeze that ruffled her hair and skirts, cooling the hotness of the sun on her skin. 

 Twirling around as if she’d heard her name in the wind, Lucien stepped into her line of vision and Elain was suddenly, viscerally reminded of the Three Musketeers Disney film she knew all the song lyrics by heart, with the outdated montage of Minnie, the pure hearted French princess, meeting Mickey, the earnest musketeer with a desperate need to prove himself, saturated in an array of old sparkly effects and pretty roses that sprouted at will, surrounding the animated mice in a haven of pastel pink fluffy clouds and romantic orchestra, and the terribly cheesy, awfully idealistic and childishly romantic speech about love at first sight.  

 He walked up to where she was standing, a carefully wrapped beautiful arrangement of multi-colored tulips, lilacs, and white carnations in his hand, and a basket very much like hers tucked in his elbow. He was wearing a cream button down with the top buttons undone, the wisps of red hair and freckles on his collarbone adorned by a discreet necklace glowing in the sun.  

 Elain’s tote bag slipped off her shoulder in a moment of lightheaded carelessness and Lucien gracefully helped her reassert the bag in her shoulder, his hand lingering if only for a moment.  

 “Are these for me?” he asked as a greeting, the light of his smile mirrored in his eyes.  

 “Yes,” she smiled too, something soft slipping into her ribcage and filling her with sunlight at the sight of him “You said these were your favorites in-”  

 “My mother’s garden,” he said with her, still smiling at her like he could not stop even if he tried “I’ll admit it now that I didn’t share that bit of information necessarily aiming for a gift” he walked the few steps so he could stand at her side “Not that I’m complaining.”  

 "I'm glad you liked them," Elain said, her sunglasses slipping on the bridge of her nose "I believe I was promised a fine spot for picnics and watching the sunset?" Lucien’s presence melted away Elain’s unsteady nerves, the tension of her body uncoiling with the tender warmth flowing off him.  

 "The best spot there is," he promised with a wink "Also, these are for you" Lucien mentioned to the graceful bouquet of peonies, buttercups and sunflowers in his hands, the few residual beads of water in the petals scintillating in the sunlight. “I thought it might be presumptuous of me to gift you my favorite flowers, so hence the absence of tulips.”  

  Elain chuckled, walking by Lucien’s side as he led them to his favorite part of the park “I wouldn’t have minded at all. Tulips are one of my favorites as well,” 

 “A woman of great taste,” he replied with a little head bow.  

 Elain, her mouth a little dry, a few strands of her front hair pieces sticking to her brow, wondered why she had ever felt nervous to meet Lucien, with his soft curls smelling of autumn, apples and cinnamon, steady hands, and bright, bright smile. There was nothing unpleasant about his presence, the effortless way he stood and spoke, the grace in his step or the lovely caramel of his eyes. 

 He guided her to a little alcove of grass, lined by tall stone walls covered in vines. In all her walks through the park, she never noticed it. A beautiful corner hidden from curious eyes, but not blocking the river’s breeze or the sight of its running waters. 

 “I’ve got a friend in the team of architects that planned this park,” Lucien explained at Elain’s surprised face “Not exactly something one would find in the City Guide,” 

 “It’s lovely, Lucien. I’ll admit that this could possibly be the best the best sunset viewing spot,” 

 “Possibly be?” he asked with mock outrage, setting the waterproofed fabric over the grass, soon followed by a dark blue checkered flannel blanket “It is the best one. It’s the reason it’s a secret” he said in a conspirators whisper, comically eyeing their surroundings as if in search of busybodies. 

 “Well, I can only decide after the day’s event,” Elain sat at the other side of the blanket, carefully arranging her basket’s content over the fabric, swiping their bouquets so they rested near their respective owners. 

 “Is this a ruse so that I work extra hard to impress you?” 

 “I don’t know,” she smirked while plating the delicate chocolate strawberries she’d made herself the night before, “Is it working?” 

 “I’m proud to say I’ve being incessantly trying to remain at my A game since the moment I looked at you the first time. 

 “That’s good,” if the blush staining her cheeks gave away her smugness, Lucien didn’t acknowledge it.

*** 
 

It was easier than falling asleep, talking to Lucien. Like being carried away by a gentle river current. Like the subtle swing of a hammock by the beach. 

 He liked bossa nova, and she did too! Her father introduced it to her when she was a little girl, swaying her in his arms. It was Lucien’s mother favorite music genre, he accidentally scratched one of her vinyl records as a kid in his haste to listen to the soft melody, the boyish delight he had at the gleam in his mother’s eyes, rare even then, making his fingers clumsy. 

 He grew up in New Hampshire, in a big estate house with woods nearby, camping with his siblings every other week, learning how to fish with his hands because he never liked to use hooks, even as a little boy. Elain had never been one for the outdoors, except for the window box, the closest thing to a garden she had ever managed to keep over the years in her family’s one bedroom apartment. But she’d like to see it someday. He would love to show it to her, he promised with his hand hidden under his thighs as if to retract from touching the flush on cheeks. 

 Elain lived most of her life in apartments, except for the few summers she used to spend at her grandparents’ country house. Her grandmother had the most beautifully cared for garden Elain had ever seen. It even had a maze, towering walls of green she could get lost into while exploring with her sisters. Once her grandparents passed away, her father had to sell the property. She never got the chance visit it again. 

  The deep orange skylight alerted them of the incoming sunset, the Sidra’s waters a wonderful watercolor of blues, pinks, reds, and oranges, gleaming in between the dark green frames of the vine-covered high fence surrounding them.  

  By then, the initial space between them had dwindled, the food containers already inside their baskets, only wine glasses a sip away from being finished near their lazied forms. Elain and Lucien were laying side by side, the gentle slope of the ground allowing them to look at the departing sun without strain. 

 They hadn’t properly touched yet. The easiness of darkness and alcohol in their last date was substituted by the brightness of day and sobriety, their interaction more measured physically. Elain felt the absence of touch as the whispers of a phantom limb. 

 Consumed by the incandescent light of the sun, an unexpected source of courage, Elain laid her head on Lucien’s shoulder. She hadn’t realized they had been quiet for a while, the sunset filling the space where their words had been. 

 Before she could speak, Lucien snaked his arm under her neck, twisting his body to hold hers as they watched the dark blue dotted with stars overthrow the magnificent golden orange. 

 “Is this, ok?” 

  A nod. 

  A hug. 

  A breath on the neck. 

  A shy kiss on the cheek. 

  The white-hot warmth of his lips on hers. 

  The devastating light of her lips on his. 

  Finally, being home. 

Thank you so much for reading it!!!! Please, I'd reeeeealy appreciate your opinions/feedbacks on it :))))

Elain’s dress, shoes

Lucien’s shirt

[fa-headhoncho]

Unlike The Rest: Part 1

George Weasley x Reader (eventually)

Prompt:  The last few years have already been rough for you. Trying to make a new name for yourself while everyone still believes you like the rest of your family. But, this year is much worse since your little brother is starting his first year at Hogwarts.

Word Count: 2069

Reader: Female

Warning: My first time writing for HP in a LONG time, so I’m sorry in advance for any Americanized things and inaccuracy. I’m rusty, okay? Some people might be a bit out of character like the mother but I think she’s proven to have a bit of a different side of her that we don’t see.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

======

You run into the wall and everything just overwhelms you. The smoke of the train clouding the air, the chatter of new and old students filling your ears, and the sense of relief. The long summer months have finally come to this. Back at Hogwarts, the escape from your dreadful life.

A large smile appears on your features, seeing familiar faces whether they be in a scowl or a smile. You loved it here. Your home away from home… This place has given a new light into your life that you needed. Sure, you were a bit of a prat your first year but you seemed to turn it around your second year once you realized how much of an arsehole you were actually being.

Then something suddenly hits you in the back, snapping you out of your daze.

“Move it, tosser.” Your little brother sneers, your parents following behind them.

“Shove it, Draco.” You spit back, just glad he didn’t knock over your trolley full of stuff. “Next time you do that, I’ll make sure to tell the whole school you still sleep with your blankie. That will be sure to make a good first impression.”

The platinum blondes mouth opens slightly, a worried expression on his face. “Father!” He whines, turning to the looming figure standing behind him.

“(Y/N),” He sighs, “don’t threaten your brother.”

You just roll your eyes and straighten out your trolley, reaching over and giving your cat a calming pet. Dazing off once again, you look around the platform. You see Angelina Johnson, a Gryffindor in your year, and give her a friendly smile. She looks a bit taken aback at the fact that you were even tempting to interact with her. She just laughs and turns to her group of friends and starts giggling at you.

Well, at least you thought you made some new friends last year.

Your father and Draco continue to walk, trying to find a better spot than in front of the entrance of the platform. You slowly follow after them, wanting to not be left behind.

“...I’m sure you’ll get into Slytherin, Draco.” Father continues to press on. “Unlike your sister, you won’t disappoint us.” He takes a side glance at you but you pretend to not hear him, “Will you?”

“Of course not father.” He obliges as he always does. 

Draco has always been Daddy’s little pet but it got worse since you were sorted into your house, Hufflepuff, in. The house of kindness, loyalty, and diligence-- the house known for producing the least amount of dark wizards. At first, you were also mad and disappointed in this. Ultimately becoming a complete brat your first year to anyone and everyone to try to make up for it but the Sorting Hat’s words seem to echo in your head since then;

“I see good things to come from you, a Malfoy unlike the rest.”

And those words are what keeps you going in a household like yours. 

“Muggle studies, really, (Y/N).” Mother exclaims in disgust, reading your schedule for the new year. “Out of all the electives, you picked muggle studies?”

You think quickly, muggles and their culture have always seemed to interest you. Your father has talked bad about them and how they are inferior to the wizarding community but they seem to just have an intriguing lifestyle. 

“It must be a mistake!” You fret, grabbing the scroll from her hands and rereading it over. It definitely was not a mistake but you had to fake it. “I must have accidentally not sign up for another elective,” Frowning, you roll up your schedule and put it into your back pocket. “I think I was too focused on getting into Care of Magical Creatures…”

Father just rolls his eyes and leans his weight onto his long black cane. You never knew why he needed that cane but you never dared to ask, you know he keeps his wand in the handle but the whole cane wasn’t really necessary. He has always been into the theatrics. 

“I’ll be sure to have that changed.” He promises. “I don’t want you turning up like the muggle-loving Weasle father.” He sneers, his eyes falling to the entrance, seeing the first of the children of said family run through it. “A disgrace they are to the wizarding world.”

“Weasley…” You mumble under your breath, correcting him. Draco catches this and his eyebrows perk up, excited to get you in trouble once more.

“What did you sa--”

“Merlin,” Your father gasps, “Harry Potter…” He sees the famous boy run through with the youngest Weasley boy.

“Is it really?” Mother gasps, eyes snapping over to inspect as well.

Everyone knows who Harry Potter is, especially people like your parents. He’s a legend in wizarding history and it’s been long-awaited for him to come to Hogwarts.

“Draco, you need to make friends with him.” Your father says in a monotone voice, eyes never leaving the boy who lived. “Make sure he knows what families to associate with.” He turns back to his son.

“Of course, Father.” He gleams, excited at the opportunity to make his father proud.

Suddenly, a herd of students starts making their way to the train. Some more frantic than others. You smile. It’s finally time.

“You should be going now,” Your mother solemnly announces, sad to see her last child going off to Hogwarts. “You guys are growing up so fast,” She sighs cupping Draco’s face, father just rolls his eyes at her sentiments.

Draco just returns the smile and pulls her hand off of his cheek. He turns around, going to double-check all his stuff and continue to talk to your father about Harry Potter and the Weasley’s. 

She then turns to you, lowering her voice into a whisper. “Make sure you keep an eye on him, (Y/N).” She requests, a worried expression on his face. “I’m afraid that his mouth will get him into a lot of trouble.”

“Wouldn’t be a Malfoy without it, Mum.” You try to crack a joke with her. Out of everyone in your family, your mother seems to be the least cruel and most understanding. Not that she certainly agrees with you, but you are her daughter and she loves you. “I’ll try.” You give her a tight-lipped smile, giving her hand a squeeze. She returns the smile and sends you on your way.

=====

“... I can’t believe he decided to sit that embarrassment Weasle-B.” Draco scoffs, already chatting shit with his friends Crabbe and Goyle.

You’ve always hated these kids, their parents are friends with yours and they’ve always seemed to cause trouble together. Your mother thinks they just have crushes on you but you rather not think of that.

“Crabbe, are you even listening?” He proclaimed, noticing the stout child's open mouth and gazed over expression. You look up from your copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them to meet his gaze. You shift uncomfortably.

Crabbe snaps his eyes back to Draco and nods so vigorous that you’re sure he just scrambled whatever brains he had left in there.

“I’m going to go change into my robes.” You announce, needing to get away from these idiots as soon as possible. Belladonna, your white tabby, jumps off of your lap as you stand. “You three should too, we are getting close to the castle.”

You reach up and grab your yellow and black robes from the compartment above the bench you and Draco were sitting in. The other two boys do the same, grabbing their plain uniforms. Draco just sits there and shakes his head at you.

“I still can’t believe you’re in Hufflepuff.” He shakes his head.

“I still can’t believe you’re a prat.” You snap back, sending him a stern look. “The school year hasn’t even started and you already are pissing me off, Draco.” He hides his frown as you put your things under your arm and storm out of the cabin.

=====

The dirt path is surrounded by trees, the first years just left with Hagrid on their traditional boat ride to show the kids the castle. You remember getting so excited, seeing the lights and the bridge sparked something in you that year.

Last year and this year are the same, you get to ride carriages across the bridge into the castle. Less grand, but still riveting none the less… Well, it should be but it just seems like a popularity contest. Seeing everyone group together to make sure they’re with their friends makes you nervous.

After first year, you made a bit of a bad name for yourself. Wanting to live up to the Malfoy name, since your sorting didn’t, you decided to act a bit out. Doing what you knew your parents would want, bullying the people in your year about their blood status and even their financial status. You really did regret it by the end of that year, no one wanted to be your friend nor did they even want to interact with you. The Slytherin wouldn’t either, they thought you were a disgrace as much as your parents did.

That led you to getting into some trouble. Which led you to detentions with Filch and even Hagrid when he was busy. Your heart changed when one of the said detentions met you with helping Hagrid care for the Bowtruckles that he kept on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Your love for the creatures sparked something and Hagrid had a chat with you. You realized what you did was wrong and wanted to change it. After that, you resorted to being quiet and just keeping your mouth shut… Well, as much as you could. 

Last year, you even dared to start making friends. Starting with your teammates on the Quidditch team. No one ever seemed to stick, though. But, people did start becoming nicer to you once they could tell the change of heart… It always seemed hard to keep friends once they heard your last name. All but one person cared about your last name and you are very grateful for him.

So this leaves you here, waiting till the last carriage or till someone invited you to come with them. You glance around, looking for that said one friend you made last year but everyone looks the same in their robes.

Your search is interrupted by rather large body knocking into you, sending your book flying onto the muddy ground. You frown once more, looking at your now ruined book on the ground. You turn to see what giant had bumped into you. Meeting a brown pair of eyes, you knew exactly who it was.

“Weasley.” You sigh, staring at the tall red head. “You’ve ruined my book!” You cry as he bends down to pick it up for you. He tries to open it but the mud keeps it sucked shut.

“I’m sor--”

“Daddy can buy you a new one.” The other one buds in, a scold grows on your face. No matter what your parents have said, you’ve always found the Weasley twins entertaining, to say the least. The three of you have your feud but it’s much more… playful than what others seem to think. They’ve always seemed to like riling you up, especially after first year. After the attitude check you had, you’ve realized it’s become a bit harmless and rather fun to argue with them.

“Which one are you, again?” You question, breaking the standoff. They both scoff, they loved playing that game with their mother but it just hits differently when others say it. You feel a bit bad and thought you went a bit too far, looking at the face of the one who initially bumped into, he looks a bit defeated at the fact that you can’t tell the difference.

“(Y/N)!” A familiar voice interrupts the silence. You turn and see your friend, Cedric, waving you over to him and his group. A large smile appears on your face. You wave back and turn back to face the twins.

“Always a pleasure, boys.” You chirp, your mood obviously changed. “I hope to see you in DADA this year.” The tall one then hands you back your book. “Thank you, George.” Grabbing it, you make sure to take a glance back at Fred, the smirk on your face matches his.

[imnotwolverine]

By the fireplace

Summary: Christmas Eve is not going as planned, when Mr. Holmes finds he’s not quite as home-alone as he expected. 

Author’s note: I know it’s the dead of summer. I know. But this fic has been gathering dust in my draft list for months now. I hope you may like a little bit of Sherlock-does-not-know-how-to-deal-with-women-fluff. 

Word count: 1563

Disclaimer: Nothing much. Fluff, with some mild Sherlock being a dumb nut when it comes to dealing with women. 

--

The winter whispered against the frozen window panes and the fireplace was hot with flames. The hour was late and despite his staff having left for family visits on Christmas Eve, Mr. Holmes was fairing well. With a platter of cheese and bread waiting, and red wine at his fingertips, he was nosing through a new file of paperwork that had come in from London. 

It was difficult not to work. Especially when other well-liked activities were little and few in offering. Horse riding and walking wasn’t quite the same when you were freezing your wits off; and so it was that Holmes remained in his oak-panelled office for most of the day. Here he was warm and well entertained. And alone - blessed be. 

With a puff from his pipe he raised up, deciding a break was in order. His fingers had grown cold despite the roaring fire and lest he not move, he might just be found frozen by his personnel when they’d return later tomorrow. His chair scraped the floorboards, and with a few strides he was out and about in the halls that stretched before him.

Mr. Holmes didn’t mind the lack of heating here. The heavy winter robe he had made by his maids was perfectly warm. Pulling the tie a little more tight, he started towards the Northern wing.

Whenever he walked here, he could hear Microft’s voice. What a perfectly sensible estate for family rearing. But that was simply not a thing Mr. Holmes expected from life. Women were the one thing he could never quite figure out. No books, scrolls or magic fairy dust could help him in that department. Mysterious creatures they were. Irene Adler for instance; marvelously splendid, but absolutely daunting to be near. These women all were so dainty and dazzlingly different from reason and words and..

*CLANG* 

Mr. Holmes stiffened. He was not a frightened man - not easily, but surely he had not imagined that sound just now, right? Halting his steps he cautiously looked out into the rest of the dimly lit hallway. He had to admit that he had not really paid attention when his personnel left. Too occupied with the new case to be bothered with who left, when and where-to.

He listened in on any further sounds: a soft swearing was heard. Female. Definitely female. A..female intruder? Perhaps stealing something? Ha! Wouldn’t that be the charmer. With a click of his tongue, Holmes set out to the source of his female visitation. 

A few steps later he was there, hand on the doorknob and shoulders stiff as he quickly switched the knob to enter. Inside it was not some smidgy burglaress, but a familiar face he found. 

Minnie.

She just stood there, wrapped up in all the clothing she probably owned, lips blue and hands awkwardly trying to clasp around her chest. Minnie had been at the estate for quite some years now, as part of Mr. Holmes’ staff. And thus it surprised Mr. Holmes to find her blue with frost in his library. 

‘I-I...’ Minnie’s jaw clattered with cold, hands gripping quickly to her chest. 

Mr. Holmes blinked. Minnie of all people. Why hadn’t she gone off to..whomever it was she wanted to see? Didn’t she have family around? 

With cautious eyes he eyed the rest of the library. No glass broken, no signs of intrusion. Just... Minnie. Minnie the quiet dear help -- it was why he hired her way back when. He enjoyed quiet staff. 

Returning his studious gaze to Minnie he quirked his head. 

‘You’re..cold.’ He stated. 

No shit Sherlock. 

Minnie gulped, teeth clattering and tears brimming at the rims of her eyelashes. ‘I’m - I’m sorry Mr. Holmes, sir. I - I..’ 

‘You need warming.’ Sherlock didn’t hear a word she said, hands quick to move to her upperarms, rubbing them with sheer focus.  

‘I didn’t mean to..’ Now she was truly crying. 

Goodness. The girl was practically freezing! Frowning, Holmes checked her pulse, complexion, pupils. Quite terrible indeed! 

The decision next taken was perhaps a shock to Minnie, but to Holmes perfectly logical. 

‘Alright. Up you go.’ With a swoop Mr. Holmes picked her up bridal style, his feet not once losing their stride. He quietly congratulated himself on keeping up with his physical well-being despite his love for the academic pursuits. Without much effort he had lifted the plump little woman in his arms, eyes focused on the flickering light that came from his study. 

‘I just..’ Minnie sobbed quietly, lips chattering loudly in the echoing hallway. She barely noticed herself how she held on tight to Holmes’ robes, her small fingers eagerly grasping onto the smooth velvet that carried his warmth. But, it was not the only thing she kept close to her. 

As Holmes returned the two of them to his study, the hearth still burning gently in the corner, his eyes noticed something else, sticking out from beneath her wrapscarf. It was either a book OR the poor woman had a particularly square chest all of a sudden. 

A book? Minnie with a book? The poor woman never even had a day of education in her LIFE! 

Lowering her to the carpet before the fireplace, Holmes continued to stare at her bossom. And though still cold, he did receive a first blush from her cold cheeks. 

‘Sir..’ She gulped, realizing just a touch too late why he was staring. Her blush became even more fierce, mouth falling open in a shocked little expression. ‘Oh..!’ 

‘You read?’ Holmes asked dumbfound. 

Minnie’s shivering worsened despite the warm room. ‘I- I. Oh sir please. I just wanted to..’ She doubled over before his feet, hands reaching up the book she had kept close. 

The Fairytale rendition his mother had once read to him. 

Sherlock frowned. ‘You wanted to ..what, Minnie?’ 

She swallowed harshly and looked up, tears now billowing down her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry sir.’ 

‘No no no, none of that.’ Sherlock settled down before her, lowering himself to her haunched over figure. ‘I’m intrigued. Do. You. Read. Minnie?’ 

She blinked at him, thin eyebrows knitting together in confusion. ‘You are not mad sir?’ 

Sherlock carefully studied her a moment longer before he let his gaze return to the fire. Suddenly her female-ness became overwhelming with all the tears and blushing cheeks and..good awful dwellings up above he should STOP looking at her chest. 

Clearing his throat he dryly shook his head. ‘No, no. Not mad.’ 

‘Disappointed then? Sir?’ Minnie followed his gaze into the fireplace, curious what he was staring at with such thoughtful focus. 

‘You taught yourself?’ He finally asked, returning his gaze to her, then the book. 

Her shivering lip curled in a little smile. ‘Sir, not really. I mean. I wish to. I---’ She bit her lip and opened the book. With a tentative finger she stroked one of the richly adorned illustrations. Next up her finger moved to the text. With stunted focus she recited a few of the words she recognised. 

‘Ah.’ Sherlock sighed, nodding in understanding. He let Minnie struggle on for a few words more, turning his head ever so slightly so he could read along. The darling woman relaxed a little now repercussions didn’t seem evident. With more excitement she let her finger slide over the words. 

‘Then...s-a-i--d..said..the!..ehhh�� She frowned at the long word that followed. 

Sherlock puffed up his cheeks and tapped her hand. Minnie blinked at him. 

‘Sir are you alright?’

With still puffed up cheeks Sherlock nodded, then puffed up his broad shoulders as well, arms rounding like he was enormous. 

‘Grand?’ 

Sherlock released his puff and smiled. ‘Yes, yes.. And then..’ He made sure she paid attention to his right hand, which he stroked reverently over his belly. 

‘Hungry?’ 

Sherlock chuckled. ‘In a fact yes. But, no.’ 

‘Yes, but no?’ Minnie looked at him with confusion. 

‘That’ll come later. First “grand”.’ He pointed that part of the word out on the page. Minnie nodded. 

‘Then..’ He slid his finger over the next part of the word, before he tried again, this time using both hands to cradle an invisible child in his arms. 

‘Child?’ 

Sherlock chuckled. ‘Almost..but..’ He pointed his finger at himself before craddling his arms again. 

‘Mother!’ 

Sherlock beamed with joy. ‘Perfection!’

Minnie sniffled and blushed again. ‘Sir..’ 

‘Minnie?’ He felt his smile melt away as he noticed how her facial expression changed. This one, he could not quite read. Her pupils dilated, her lips parted and for a moment her gaze flickered to his lips. 

‘Sir.’ Her voice became more stern and with a swift move she raised back to her feet. ‘I’m so terribly sorry for intruding on your night. I’ll...’ 

He caught her hand before she could storm off. So small! 

With large eyes Minnie watched at the way his large hand encapsulated hers. Even now by the fire, his hand was still warmer than hers. Without words their eyes met. 

‘I can --ehh.. teach?’ Sherlock tried. 

Again they just stared for a moment longer. And though probably inappropriate, Sherlock held onto her hand without hesitation. 

Minnie sighed. ‘Perhaps some food first, sir? You said you were hungry?’ 

Sherlock released her hand. A dry chuckle escaped his lips. 

‘For books...’ He looked up and had to catch himself as his gaze drifted back to her now book-free chest. ‘..always.’

--

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[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Magicam Live

Vil’s guest is a pest. Contains coarse language, people being catty bitches, and more telling than showing.

You want more, check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag. If you liked it, let me know!

~*~*~*~

Transcript of Last Week's Magicam Live From *schoenheit_official

Vil: Hello my dearest fans! As promised, I will be showing off my newest capsule makeup collection, to be released this Monday exclusively at Feathersweep Cosmetics. However, due to high demand, instead of simply demonstrating on myself, I thought I would show that anyone could be half as beautiful as me with these!

[He holds a hand out to the side.]

V: Please welcome my fellow student at Night's Raven College, Yuu.

Yuu: Yo.

[A girl with short, dark hair and tired eyes sits down beside him. Spotty and plump, with a notable double chin. She's notably underdressed, compared to Vil.]

Y: I am she. I'm *donegotisekaid, if you haven't seen yet. Full of genuine memes from another universe, as well as me figuring this place out, and pictures of my not-cat.

V: She's simply been begging me for a makeover!

Y: He asked me if I'd do it, actually.

[Vil stops and takes a deep breath, clearly irritated.]

V: Yes, well. You've prepared?

Y: I scrubbed my face real good and managed to leave most of my pimples alone, if that's what you mean.

[Vil sighs]

V: As much as you're capable of, clearly. We'll start with the primer.

Y: [with a smile] Didn't you already give me one on how to act in this?

[Vil pinched the bridge of his nose, regret pouring from every cell in his body.]

V: Just lie back and be quiet until I'm done with you.

[Yuu looks at the camera, but says nothing. There's an audible snicker from behind the camera.]

[There are a few quiet minutes where Vil prepares her face, before selecting a foundation.]

V: So, is there a reason you don't wear makeup? You could look quite nice with it.

Y: Few reasons. It's a lot of effort, and I tire easily. I don't really like the feel of it on my face, and I tend to touch my face a lot anyways, so it doesn't last. It's a lot of money, and I break out very easily.

V: I can see that. Don't you use face wash?

Y: You should have seen me when I did use it! Much worse.

V: Ugh. I'll give you something later. And none of these have a good tone for you.

Y: Just pick the closest! I'll end up wrecking it by a few hours from now anyways.

[Vil rolled his eyes.]

V: Rook, any questions from the chat?

[A familiar accented voice from offscreen]

Rook: *stellargems wants to know how Yuu found herself at NRC.

Y: Transdimensional bullshit. I'm here until we figure out how I can get home. It's not bad, I don't miss it much.

V: Yuu even has her own dorm so she doesn't have to bother anyone.

Y: Not that it stops me.

V: [sotto voce] Don't we all know.

Y: If they kept you in a building with four usable rooms total and no electricity, you'd be out and about too. At least the ghosts there are really nice and help me out.

V: Do you kiss these ones too, or was that a one time thing?

Y: If I hadn't kissed her we'd be down a student and you and half the people I hang out with would be paralyzed, so don't make fun.

[Vil stops to regard the camera.]

V: To clarify, there was an incident with a ghost princess causing a lot of trouble at the school a few months ago. Yuu decided to kiss her to fix everything, because she's both stupid and deeply strange.

Y: It was really fun until I started dying.

V: All her blood was on the outside. It was disgusting.

Y: It did work though!

V: Keep telling yourself that, you didn't kiss the one you really wanted to.

[Yuu gives him the finger, and Vil shoves her hand down.]

R: *vilpleasefathermychildren asks-

[Yuu sputters with laughter. Vil just winks at the camera with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.]

R: They want to know if there'll be a coupon code for the new release.

V: There will! It'll be released via the official fanclub email Sunday night.

Y: It'll be a whole three percent off and you have to pay to access it.

V: Stop that.

Y: [sweetly] No.

Rook: *getterbackback wants to know what your shirt says?

Y: Yeah, hold on.

[She stands and pulls the shirt out to be seen better. It says in large letters, I'M CUTE AND I BITE]

Y: You can do one yourself if you take a dark shirt, tape the parts you want covered, and scorch the area around it with diluted bleach. I've done a few of these, a few designs more than once.

V: Destroyed them?

Y: Nah, Lil wants at least one of every one I do.

V: [to the camera] That would be our fellow student Lilia Vanrouge, from Diasomnia.

Y: He's pretty great. He's *elderbatbrat if you want to look him up.

V: Sit back down so I can figure out which blush to use.

Y: Pinks and corals work best for my skin tone.

V: I thought you didn't wear makeup?

Y: Why do you think I know wearing it tires me out? It's not something I ever did a lot because of the effort.

Y: Except for highlighter. it's basically sparkles and it's light, so I like that.

V: You remember that, but not your proper name?

Y: Ain't life grand.

R: I'm getting several questions about that. Would you care to elabourate for the chat?

Y: Yeah. I don't remember a lot about where I'm from. Culturally? Lots. What I like? What I don't like? Everything. Names and places specific to who I was? No. And don't ask me to think about it too hard, I get the worst fucking headache and I stop seeing right.

V: You've never seen right in your life.

Y: Oh, fuck off, Vil.

[Vil stops blushing one cheek to point.]

V: Stop that.

[Yuu responds by biting at his finger with an audible click when her teeth meet, laughing hysterically as Vil pulls back in shock.]

V: !!! Dreadful little monster!

Y: Yeah, but you're the one who thought you'd get more views if I was here.

R: We indeed just surged another 20,000 views and counting! Excellent work, Yuu.

Y: Thank you, Rook.

[Vil looks ready to explode.]

Y: I won't bite again, that was just too easy. Please continue, I do want to see what magic you can do.

V: This is regular makeup.

Y: Metaphorically, you jackass. 

R: *rosemassacre wants to know if you're always like this.

V: She's always this horrible.

Y: Vil first saw me and called me a dumpy little potato. I told him it's because I'm great all ways and everyone wants a taste, and slapped my ass at him. He's been obsessed with me ever since.

V: I am not obsessed with you.

R: You go into a rage over her at least once a week.

V:  She can't go a week without being a pest.

Y: I went three after you kicked me out of the movie club.

V: You can't just project violence on the walls of Pomfiore because I said we weren't going to watch it!

Y: Vil, it was The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, and it is art.

V: A man gets sawed in half in the first ten minutes.

Y: To an absolutely bangin' soundtrack. Oh that reminds me. Ad time, hold on.

[She wiggles a little before puting on her best customer service face.]

Y: If you want to access media that is quite literally from another world, please go to MonstroMedia dot com and sign up! There's ebooks, movies, tv, music, and more. Much of it is horror, sci-fi and fantasy, as it's from my person collection of media brought with me on my laptop and backup drives. You can use the code SHOENHEITSAYSWHAT for the first month free!

[She put her hand up and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone.]

Y: I completely understand piracy, but I'd appreciate if you paid because this is the only way I get spending money, and I can only bat my eyes at these boys so much before they expect something in return for gifts.

V: How'd Ashengrotto talk you into that one?

Y: He was going to make me start paying for all the food I eat if I didn't.

R: *waterwitchesbetgitches says, and I quote, "so like if ur the only gal at NRC how many boyfs you have"

Y: So many. At least twenty. Even more if there were girls here.

V: That is a gross exaggeration. She has maybe three, if we're being very generous on the definition.

Y: [points] And he's mad he's not one of them.

V: [squinting] You are absolutely dreadful and I can't understand how you're so popular.

Y: I like you too, Vil.

[Vil pauses, visibly taken aback.]

V: ... Thank you.

V: You know you're going to have paparazzi on your tail now, right?

Y: Aw, shit.

R: *insertmagicamhandlehere wants to know what's on your neck.

V: An antique chain with an attached charm specially made for me by Soleil Atelier.

R: I believe that was for Yuu.

[Yuu snickers, as Vil looks for himself. When her collar is pulled down, it fully reveals a vicious set of hickeys with visible toothmarks.]

V: Eww.

Y: You should see the other guy.

V: Eww!

[Vil takes a moment to recover, while Yuu laughs.]

Y: That could be a second part! Everyone needs that tutorial. "Bruise Coverup How-to by Vil Shoenheit: For when you just can't keep them off of you."

[Vil mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like "nerds shouldn't be allowed to fuck"]

Y: Then where would your fans be?

V: At least there's only setting spray after this and then you can leave.

Y: Won't you get bored without me here?

R: One last question! *shroudstreaming has asked... well, there's a lengthy keysmash and an all-caps "why".

Y: Ah. Hi, babe!

Y: Hey, everyone go follow him, he's a total fucking babe and he refuses to take my word for it, no matter what I do to him-

[Vil sprays setting spray directly in her face, leading to Yuu coughing.]

V: No taste at all, and gross to boot. 

Y: Asshole.

[Vil offers a mirror]

V: No. Miracle worker.

[Yuu looks... well, the same, but with an even, well made-up face.]

Y: ... Aww. You remembered I like sparkles.

V: Less likely to scrub it off if you actually like it.

[Yuu's admiring herself for a few moments in silence, with Vil watching, quite pleased.]

Y: Hey, can I do you next?

V: Absolutely not.

Y: Ask the chat.

V: No.

R: Chat says yes.

V: [With a visible eye roll] Ugh, fine. 

Y: Aight. Take your shirt off.

V: What.

[Yuu brings up a case and flips it open. Inside is a magazine with a gory cover, and various things like fake blood and liquid latex.]

Y: Alright kiddies. You wanna learn how to slit a man's throat?

[Vil gets up and walks away without another word.]

Y: You said I could! Get back here!

[Yuu follows. Rook emerges from behind the camera.]

R: That's it for tonight, ma belles. Next time.

[Magicam Live ends, but not before audible yelling and scuffling, quickly cut off.]

[ssajj]

Brutus

While undercover, you run into the boyfriend you left behind.

Fem!Reader, 5.1k

TW: nongraphic depictions of violence, swearing, cigarettes, hints of a toxic relationship (not between reader and Spencer), guns

Note: dual timelines! It goes back and forth for most of the fic.

"Are you sure they want to meet me?" You ask, fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. It's hard not to overanalyze the outfit you picked out for this occasion, even if you know it's far too late to go back to your place and change. Spencer hates not arriving on time. 

He looks at you with a quizzical expression on his face. "Of course they want to meet you."

When in doubt, you love to go for false bravado. "Talk a lot about me?" You smirk, watching a slow blush appear on his cheeks. Stepping forward, you wrap your arms around his middle and gently tug him toward you. He complies easily, his hands automatically settling at the small of your back. 

"Is it okay if I do talk about you a lot?"

That makes you smile. "It's sweet."

The blush only gets stronger. "Morgan and Garcia are pretty eager to meet you," he says. "They've been bringing up tonight all week."

He's probably only saying it to make you feel better, but all it does is spike the anxiety brewing in your chest. Garcia's an information junkie; you don't even want to know the things she's already figured out about you. And Morgan is Spencer's best friend. If he doesn't like you, that's probably the beginning of the end for your relationship. 

"It'll be great, love," he's firmer this time, melting some of the fire. Your favorite thing he calls you is 'love'. Something about the gentleness of that word, the feelings it implies, and the soft look Spencer gets on his face whenever he uses it makes you want to curl up against him for the rest of your life.

After another moment, the two of you head out the door and to the bar, hands clasped together. 

"Y/N!!!!" Garcia practically forces you into a bear hug when you walk over to the BAU's table. "Oh, I am SO glad you could come tonight. I've been looking forward to this for ages! I cannot believe Spencer waited an eternity to bring you around us. You're all he talks about anymore, it's adorable."

You glance back at your boyfriend, who looks a tad horrified. Morgan laughs and slaps him on the back, forcing a cough out of him. 

"Hey," JJ greets you, looking so much less intimidating than anyone at the table. You know it's a bit of a farce though. Spencer’s told you enough stories to know that JJ is a woman who can hold her own and hold it well, despite appearances. Idly, you note that she'd be great at undercover work. "I'm JJ. I'm assuming you know that you just got crushed by Garcia. And then there's Morgan, Rossi, Emily, and Hotch." As she said their names, she pointed at them. It was nice to get confirmation, even if you were pretty sure you knew which face belonged to which name.

Hotch nods at you. "It's nice to meet you."

"Is he smiling?" Emily hisses, leaning toward Rossi. "I think Hotch is smiling."

"It's great to finally meet all of you. Spencer’s always talking about you guys," you say, taking your seat. Spencer settles down next to you close enough that your thighs touch. The bar definitely isn't somewhere that he'd normally hang out, but he seems comfortable enough here that you assume it's a frequent spot for the BAU to visit. 

A couple hours in, you're feeling tipsy and ridiculously happy. You're getting along particularly well with Emily and JJ, who are both amazing. If he isn't talking to you, Spencer’s usually talking to Morgan and Garcia, who obviously adore him. Hotch and Rossi seem lost in their own private conversations and you wonder if it's because they're the two highest ranking agents here. 

"You should totally start joining us when we have girls night!" JJ says, clinking her beer against your glass. "I think you'd really enjoy them."

You nod, feeling flattered. "I'm down to come."

Emily grins, reaching over to knock Spencer’s shoulder. "Your girlfriend is so much cooler than you."

Before you can protest, he nods. "She is," he agrees, smiling at you.

"Awww," Garcia coos, joining the conversation. "Who knew that our baby Spencer was a secret romantic? I love it!"

--

"A wedding?" You ask, pressed up against Cal's side. It's always a bit uncomfortable, almost like your bodies know you don't fit together, that something is amiss. You just hope that your body isn't the thing that finally gets you killed. "That seems below you."

Cal looks down at you, an amused smirk twisting his face. He wants to eat you up, you think. He wants to devour you. "The groom is an old family friend," he explains. "It's courtesy that I attend. And I can hardly go without a ravishing date on my arm."

You rise up on your toes to kiss his cheek, rubbing a bit at the lipstick you leave with the pad of your thumb. "As long as I get to pick my own dress."

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't let you pick it yourself?" His grip on you tightens enough that you wonder if it'll leave a bruise on your hip. Tomorrow, you know you'll find a wad of cash in your purse. In exchange, he'll get to take it off of you after the wedding. 

Mercifully, he lets you go a second later. You step back, walking by him. He's done with you for the day. Your relationship is to the point where he doesn't need to formally dismiss you anymore. You've picked him apart and put him back together. Whether he knows it or not, it feels like you've made him the very man that you hate with every fiber of your being. At least, you tell yourself that you hate him. When it gets too hard, when you find yourself falling under his spell, you picture the last boyfriend you had as yourself. A man full of shy smiles, sweet compliments, gentle kisses, and the most beautiful assortment of random knowledge. When he's in your mind, you don't get lost in the person you're pretending to be. It's the only time you feel like yourself. 

Of course, being yourself too much would get you killed, so you limit yourself. 

You go dress shopping the next day. Cal gave you an absurd budget, so you manage to pick out an extravagant dress and also a pair of shoes and earrings. This morning, Cal had mentioned that the wedding was going to be a black tie event, giving you an excuse to feel like a princess. Well. Maybe a trapped princess, like Cinderella or Rapunzel. You walk out of the store with a heavy bag on your arm. When you return to the house, it's blissfully empty. Cal isn't due back until late, but you still do a full walk around the house, double checking before you go out to the garden. The first few months you lived here, the garden was the responsibility of the landscapers that stopped by occasionally, but you batted your eyes and sucked on Cal's lip until he agreed to give it to you. Now, no one else was allowed to touch it per his orders. And he wasn't the kind of man his staff said no to. 

Basically, it was a perfect hiding spot. You go over to the daisies, digging a little until you find the box that contained your current burner phone. You'd have to switch soon, probably within the next few weeks. It was close to dying and it was never a good idea to keep the same phone number for an extended period of time. You dial the number once, hang up immediately, dial again, let it ring three times, hang up, and then dial for a final time. Your handler answers quickly.

"What?" He asks, gruff. 

"We're going to a wedding near Virginia."

You hear him suck in a breath. "Close to where you used to live."

"I know."

"If you get recognized-"

"I won't."

He pauses. "Stay safe."

You hang up the phone and pray you make it through this alive. 

--

On your one year anniversary, Spencer brings you to a museum. He walks you through all the exhibits, rambling about anything he knows in regards to your surroundings. His hands keep waving through the air, his eyes bright and alive, a grin splitting his face. It's obvious that he's in his element. 

You love him so badly that it hurts, sometimes. 

By the time you reach the gift shop, your brain is full of knowledge you probably won't ever need again. 

"Sorry," Spencer says suddenly, looking at you. "Did I just bore you? You know you're allowed to cut me off when I get going."

You shake your head, kissing his cheek. "It was cute. I loved it."

Once you're done there, the two of you head back to his apartment. Last month, the two of you had decided not to do gifts, electing just to spend the day together instead. You cuddle with him on the couch, your body tucked perfectly against his. In this moment, you feel safe. You're with a man you know loves you, and you love him back just as fiercely. Life is good. 

--

You and Cal arrive in Virginia at the crack of dawn, early enough that it feels like you should still be rubbing the sleep out of your eyes even though you've been awake for hours. “Who even has weddings before noon? I didn’t even think that was a thing.”

Cal chuckles beside you, his arm snaking around you. In this moment, it’s hard not to shudder. You’ve never understood his need to always touch you, claim you for the world to see. As far as he knows, you’ve never belonged to anyone else. You were born and bred for this, a perfect lover. Just enough sass, just enough danger, just enough compliance, just enough meekness. He doesn’t know that this isn’t the real you, that you’re always on the verge of screaming your head off. One day, he’ll learn. It’ll end in one of your deaths. 

Hopefully, it’ll end in his death. 

"We'll stop at the hotel first, darling," Cal takes your hand as he talks, leading you along the side of the road. God, you remember this place. Of course you do. This is your home turf. A new name and a new look doesn't mean that this doesn't feel like home. "You can get changed and refreshed before we head to the venue."

You shrug. "Sounds good to me."

The walk is blissfully short, but the hotel is grand. It's definitely not somewhere you would have been able to afford. Honestly, you're almost disgusted by how the place practically bleeds money and how well Cal seems to blend into this new environment. 

Once you're in the room, you toss your suitcase onto the bed, hissing when the action results in a broken nail. Cal laughs at you as you stick your finger in your mouth. He comes over after a beat, pulling at your hand to inspect your nail. For a second, it looks like he's going to lick your finger, but he just lets you go. "Get dressed," he tells you, kissing your forehead. "I want to see how stunning you're going to look."

--

"Something's off about you."

You whip around, coming face to face with Emily. She's wearing an expression you recognize, but not on her: perfect blankness. There's no trace of a personality, no trace of a name attached to the person that spoke. Something tightens in your chest and you crane your neck to look at Spencer, who's blissfully unaware of the words that were just spoken. Instead, he's fully engaged in a conversation with JJ and Will, hands flapping as they smile warmly at him. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say to Emily, crafting a neutral but surprised look to wear on your own face. "Not sure I appreciate the tone, though."

Emily scoffs. "Don't play dumb with me. Come on. I know you got the same feeling about me."

She's right, even though you don't admit it. It almost feels like when two predators acknowledge each other in the wild- they know they're evenly matched, and so they go their separate ways. Except that everyone in the room is a predator. You and Emily are a different breed, though. 

She's done deep undercover work. 

"Ladies!" Rossi interrupts, throwing an arm around Emily’s shoulders. If he notes any tension, he doesn't comment on it. "Why are you being antisocial over here?" He points at you. "Your boyfriend has been talking the ears off of JJ and Will. I honestly couldn't even tell you what about."

You shrug. "They don't seem to mind."

"Am I not allowed to talk to her?" Emily asks, eyebrow quirked. "I need to make sure she's not a secret spy."

Rossi laughs. "Garcia would have already sniffed that out, don't worry. Y/N passed her background check with flying colors."

"Did you?" You ask Emily, a small smile playing on your lips. 

"Of course."

By now, Rossi’s gotten a good taste of the strangers of this interaction. He glances between you, eyes narrowing as they settle on you. You don't change your face.

"Actually, I think I'll join Spencer," you say, sliding past the two of them. 

Spencer welcomes you gladly, folding you seamlessly into the conversation. Throughout most of it, you wonder how everyone else can understand what Will's saying. For all you know, he could be telling you off. 

When you turn your head, you notice that Emily’s still looking at you. When you nod at her, she nods back. 

You hope that's the end of it. 

--

An hour in, you figure out that you hate weddings. 

It doesn't help that you've been ditched. Cal was stuck to you like glue just long enough for you two to walk in together before he mumbled something about "important business" and took off. Currently, you're sitting alone at a table toward the back of the venue. You don't know what the hell you got so dressed up for or why you chose such a risky dress. One wrong move meant that everyone here was going to see a lot more of you than you were comfortable with. 

"Hey, pretty lady," a man greets you, plopping himself in one of the empty seats next to you. You blink at him. "All alone here?"

"I'm here with my boyfriend."

He sighs, putting his sweaty hands on the table. "Now, what kind of man would leave his lady all by her lonesome?"

"How about you leave before I kick your ass?"

Cal laughs behind you, alerting you to his presence. You turn around, smiling at him. He's got a warm look on his face, the one that's only reserved for you. 

"Oh!" The stranger yelps, standing up so fast that he rattles the table. "I didn't realize you were Cal's-"

"Just go," you tell him, waving him off. He doesn't waste any time. 

Cal takes the empty seat. "I don't know why I bothered having security. You're scarier than all of them."

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. Have fun chatting up all the old rich men here?"

He takes your hand. "I'm sorry to leave you alone for so long." Lifting your hand, he kisses it. You blush. 

"I'm assuming you have to go back to that?"

He nods. "Will you be okay here?"

"I think I'm going to go smoke, actually."

He's the one that got you into cigarettes, so he doesn't protest this. "Go out the west wing exit," he says instead. "There's always too much traffic at the main doors."

The two of you part, heading in opposite directions. It takes you a bit to find the right exit, but you're blissful when the crisp air finally hits your face. The view isn't bad, either, but it does make your heart ache. 

For some stupid reason, you hadn't realized that the venue was so close to the museum Spencer loved taking you to. 

You take your sweet time outside, cigarette dangling loosely from your fingers. It's the most relaxed you've felt all day, away from the prying eyes that know you as someone else. This assignment has already gone on for longer than you'd expected, but Cal is a tough nut to crack. Every time you think you have his complete trust, that he'll tell you what you need to know, a door slams shut in your face, or he gets angry with you for the littlest action. You take a drag, watching the smoke dissipate in the air. 

"Y/N?" A familiar voice asks.

Your heart stops. 

--

Your blood freezes in your veins, seemingly distorting everything around you. "What?" You whisper into the phone. 

"He'll be okay," JJ soothes. "He's getting checked out by an EMT as we speak, I promise. I'm staring at him right now."

"What happened?"

She pauses, which doesn't fill you with any kind of confidence. "He went in after the unsub without backup. They ended up getting into a bit of a fight before Morgan and I could get to him. The three of us took down the unsub together, Spence is just...bruised."

"Any cracked ribs?" You ask. 

"I'll let you know as soon as I find out. I'll call back in a few, okay?" 

Before you can reply, the line is disconnected. 

For the next eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds, you don't move a muscle. This wasn't the first time Spencer had gotten hurt since you'd started dating- perks of being with someone that hunted serial killers for a living- but that did nothing to comfort you now. Your mind always went to the worst possible place, combing over your last interaction with Spencer, wondering if he died now, would he know how much you loved him? While you were at a desk job currently, most of your career had been spent never knowing if you'd make it to dawn. This had been ingrained in you by now. You've seen people die, you've seen people be killed in a heartbeat. You survived that. 

You couldn't survive Spencer dying. 

The second your phone rings, it's answered and at your ear. "How is he?"

"Y/N," Spencer says into the phone, and you feel your entire body relax. 

Instead of answering him, you burst into tears. 

"Hey, hey. I'm okay, love."

"Sorry!" You practically wail, covering your mouth with your hand. "Sorry. What did the EMT say? How are you feeling? When will you be home?"

He answers your questions in a steady tone, obviously still worried about your emotional level. "We're getting on the jet once JJ and Hotch finish wrapping up with the detectives here."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Y/N." 

Twelve hours later, Spencer is wrapped in your arms. He has a cracked ribs and an assortment of bruises, but he's breathing and he's here.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you that causes such a dramatic reaction?" He asks, making you tense. 

"Spence…"

He sighs. "I know."

This was the biggest rift in your relationship. He pours his heart out day by day, and you're a shell of a woman with none of that to offer him. You can’t talk about most of your career. Even now, at a boring desk job, you're handling other people's undercover identities. You requested a break from going undercover and gotten it, but there's a part of your brain that still knows not to trust that. They could try to send you away tomorrow. 

--

Spencer. Spencer is here. Spencer is staring at you. Spencer just said your name. 

You know what you have to do, even if it'll hurt both of you. You'd tear yourself open to keep him safe, set yourself on fire to keep him safe, but that doesn't mean it'll be any easier to break his heart to keep him safe. 

"I'm sorry?" You ask, scrunching your face up in confusion. "I think you have the wrong person."

You don't look exactly like you did when you dated Spencer. Your hair is a different color and cut, and your face has started hollowing out from stress and hate. Honestly, there's been times where you haven't even recognized yourself in the mirror. 

He repeats your name, taking a step toward you. Instinct has taught you well, so even though you want to run forward into his arms, you take a step back. 

He looks different since the last time you saw him. Different, but good. He's filled out more, his hair is longer, and he's holding himself with more authority. This Spencer isn't constantly curled in on himself, you know. He isn't always trying to make himself lesser. He's maintained his kind eyes, though. They're staring straight through you, searching for things you can't give him. All you can remember is the love you shared with him, the love you smashed when you left. It makes you ache. 

This is conformation of your deepest fear: he's better off without you. 

"That isn't my name," you tell him, cocking your head to the side. The cigarette, you notice, has fallen to the ground. You wonder if he's noticed, but you step on it all the same. "My name is Reva."

"Reva." It sounds distinctly wrong coming from his lips, like it doesn't quite fit despite his efforts to force it. By this point, you're well used to being called the wrong name. Something about the way Spencer says it still makes you want to cringe. 

Regardless, he can't know any of that. He still has some hope in his eyes, although it's being muddled by confusion. "Yes," you confirm. "Look, I'm sorry you can't find who you're looking for. I'm not her, though."

"I'm sorry, too."

"Reva!" You hear, and you turn to find Cal coming out the door. Whipping your head back at Spencer, you gesture for him to leave, feeling some of your panic leak out into the open. Cal doesn't get to look at Spencer. He doesn't get to talk to Spencer. 

Out of desperation, you practically leap into Cal's arms, kissing him firmly on the mouth. He’s surprised, but since he never says no to this kind of thing, he pulls you closer and deepens it. “Can we get out of here?” You whine, lowering your hands to right below his ass. 

“I think that sounds perfect.”

As he takes your hand to lead you back into the venue, you spare one last look at Spencer. He’s rooted to the spot, mouth slightly agape as he stares at you. 

You have the sinking feeling that you didn’t trick him well enough. 

--

When you go into the office on Monday, you know. Your supervisor is standing at your desk, a grim expression on his face. 

“I don’t want to go,” you tell him automatically. 

All the other times you’ve been under, there’s been no one on the other side to miss you. Now, though? You think of Penelope, who likes surprising you with different kinds of flowers, of Rossi, who taught you how to make your first authentic Italian dish, of Hotch, who you just managed to work a soft smile out of, of JJ, who automatically gravitates toward you whenever you’re in a room together, of Morgan, who lifted you up and spun you around when you admitted to him that you could see a forever with Spencer, and god- Spencer. You don’t want to leave Spencer. You could survive without him, but there’d forever be a light missing. 

“Come on into my office,” your supervisor tells you. “We have a lot to talk about.”

--

For the first time in a long time, you cry yourself to sleep. 

The next day, you make your way back into the garden. Cal’s out again, probably plotting something that will result in death and destruction. You’re frustrated that he’s been so difficult to get through to, you’re frustrated that you saw Spencer last night, and all you want to do is throw your head back and scream until your throat is raw and bleeding. That isn’t an option, so all you can do is dig up your phone and make the call. 

When you tell him what happened, all you get is a sigh before he hangs up. Figures. “Asshole.”

--

“What do you want me from me, huh?” You scream, hands balled into fists at your side. Your breath is heavy, weighing the room down. 

Spencer scoffs at you. “I’ve made it perfectly clear what I want, you just aren’t listening anymore.”

“I can’t give you that.”

He won’t look at you anymore. Tears have started gathering in his eyes, and while you want to wipe them away, you know you don’t have the right. You’re the one that put them there, you’re the one making him act like this. 

“It feels like I barely know you sometimes,” he says, and you don’t even have a counter argument for that. You’ve been so many people. At this point, you’re a jigsaw puzzle of everyone you’ve ever been, but he’s missing too many pieces to solve you. 

When you don’t respond, he sighs, running his hand through his hair. And then-

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

You suck in a breath. “What?”

His voice firms. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Y/N. I don’t know if this is working. I don't think I want to keep trying."

Before he can say anything else, before you can make your case, before you can fight for him, your legs are already carrying you out the door. 

You make a single phone call. 

“I’m in. Tell me more about the assignment.”

--

On a Wednesday, it ends. It's months since you saw Spencer. Part of you had expected some big event to come from that, whether it be Cal stabbing you in the stomach or Spencer somehow tracking you down to save you. Life isn't a romance movie, though, so you just went back to being alone. 

And finally, after a century of careful prodding and poking, you get the information you need to take Cal down. 

As the sun shines and the birds chirp, the SWAT team bursts through the door, shouting to get down. You scream Cal's name, knowing that your performance isn't going to be over until he never gets to see daylight again.

Unfortunately, Cal never goes down without a fight. He comes out guns blazing, shooting one of the SWAT members before they even register that he's there. In a flash, you're pressed up against Cal's chest, the barrel of his gun pressed to your head. 

"You motherfucker," you whisper. 

"I'm sorry, baby," he says to you, raising his voice to talk to the SWAT team. "Back off or I'll shoot!"

This fantastic plan results in you bleeding from a bullet wound in your stomach, curled on the ground and Cal is hauled off by SWAT. One of them approaches you once everyone else is gone.

"Good work, Y/N."

--

You hate hospitals. You hate the lights, the sounds, the smells, and the general fear of death that spikes whenever you enter through the doors. You've already been debriefed, already destroyed Reva. As far as Cal knows, you bled to death on his living room floor. 

As you start to drift off to sleep, you hear a sudden clanging from down the hall, muffled voices oozing in frustration. Footsteps start up again, and then-

Oh.

Spencer’s in your room. 

"Y/N," he gapes, coming up to the side of the bed. He starts to reach for your hand before aborting the motion; in response, you grab his instead. You're too weak to deny him right now. "Oh, god. Y/N."

"How are you here?" You ask. 

"Penelope. I knew it was you outside the venue, and once the shock wore off, I knew you were undercover. We've been trying to locate you ever since, but your name pinged on her alerts when you were admitted here. What happened?"

"SWAT guy shot me."

The two of you lock eyes, and you're horrified to discover that you're both on the verge of crying. "Spence-"

He hugs you, arms gentle as he settles onto the bed. As you sob into his arms, you feel more at home than you have in a very long time. 

--

Two weeks later, you're curled in his bed. 

Things aren't normal. You've been gone for over a year and you left things completely unfinished. Not to mention that you've screamed yourself awake every night, panic attacks and sobs wrecking you even as Spencer whispers comforts as he holds you. But you're safe. 

Another day later, Spencer helps you sit up before announcing, "We need to talk."

"I know."

He starts fiddling with the sleeves of his cardigan. "You- you left."

"You told me to."

"No! I-" he sighs, pulling harder at his sleeves. "I know it sounded that way. But I love you, Y/N. Then and now. I was never done trying for you."

You laugh a little. It doesn't sound right. "You don't love me now. I'm not even...I don't know how much of myself is even left anymore."

"So let me find out," he pleads. "Let me learn to love all the new things about you, let me cherish what hasn't changed."

"I'm sorry for running."

"I'm sorry for not chasing after you."

--

Your first date after coming back to yourself is a walk through the park. Spencer figures you can handle that, figures you won't get too overwhelmed or pained from the experience. He still lets you lean against him the entire time.

Since the first initial conversation, you've had many more. You've detailed your thoughts, as well as your experiences with Cal. You fought and fought and fought with your supervisor to get the clearance to tell Spencer, reminding him that you refused to ever go under again and that Spencer was an agent. Eventually, he folded. Spencer still had to sign an absurd amount of paperwork. In turn, Spencer explained the things he'd been up to since you left, how he refused to lose you again once he spotted you. 

Things aren't perfect. They are better, though.

"Hey," you say, pulling at his hand until he stops. "I love you."

A big smile spreads across his face, and he leans forward until your foreheads are touching. "I love you too."

When you kiss him, you vow to yourself to never leave again.