#like babe this isn’t your relationship to meddle with

[wingsdippedingold]

Nesta is trapped in a cage with a wolf, who she can no longer differentiate herself from

Feyre tries to hunt the wolf, but in shooting it, shoots her sister

That’s the best way I can sum up their relationship

+ Rhysand pokes the wolf with a stick

[amphitriteswife]

Happy New Year! could you please write headcanons or one shot about dating taehoon before he met Do-un and maybe how he changed after his death (if you think that he would change)

Before

🥋 Dating Taehoon before Do-un would be way easier than after. Here he doesn’t seem to care all that much if it’s genuine or not. He’d also hang around other girls. He likes the attention and praise but over all doesn’t necessarily feel anything for them. He’s more fond of the fact that everyone is swooning over him than actually bothering to be in a proper relationship.

🥋 If you do actually manage to be in a relationship with him, expect him to be chaotic, childish and annoying. He’ll try to convine you to do things with him. Skipping school to go to the arcade, maybe the karaoke place or just hanging out with each other instead of being in school. If you refuse to do so he’d find you a party pooper and complain and whine about to you all day. Even if it happend already.

🥋before Do-un Taehoon was even more arrogant then he was now. This means that he expects you to follow him everywhere, no matter where he goes. You’re like his right hand. ‘Babe can you get me a cigarette?’ Or ‘hey babe, we’re skipping history. Let’s go get something to eat.’ If you actually oppose him he’d be more confused than angry.

🥋 if you’re his girlfriend, most people in school would know about it since he makes it pretty obvious. However Taehoon would not tell his old man about you. He doesn’t tell him anything, even if it’s necessary. As Hansu calls him: Taehoon is a rebellious teen who’s still suffering from puberty at his big age. And Hansu is not wrong at all.

🥋 Taehoon would also be very childish and immature. He’ll get mad over petty fights and doesn’t think he’s in the wrong. Or he’ll act like nothing happened. He’ll usually never solve his problems with requires you to be the bigger person in the relationship. If you point out that he’s being childish and immature he’ll be super defensive and flustered about it. He won’t admit that he is like that and will get mad at you and not speak to you. He’ll be all grumpy and be like ‘I don’t talk to people who made me angry.’ Or ‘i don’t like it when you make up stuff about me!’ You did in fact not make it up. As you can see very immature.

🥋 He spends most of his time outside. Either bullying people, smoking/ vaping, just wandering around or being in the arcade. Maybe at your place or school, depending on if you go to the same school as him or not. He’ll camp outside your school if you go to a different one. Is he skipping his own to do so? Definitely. And yes he’s smoking while doing so

🥋 He sees himself as the king, an arrogant and strong person who will make everything and everyone bent to his will. The fact that he does taekwondo only strengthens his believes. This unfortunately also associates with you. He’ll let you show his taekwondo moves and tricks. Be impressed, praise him for being so good. Tell him he’s strong. He lives on the fact that he can show off to anyone and anything.

After

💯 If you were his girlfriend during the time he lost Do-un he will have a very deep connection and level of trust when it comes to you. He’ll be glued to your side, meddling in everything and always having your back just like how he has with Hobin. He also feels supper overprotective and now knows the value of friendship as well as being in a relationship

💯 Taehoon after Do-un’s passing would be less annoying. He still bullies others but it’s not out a place of sadism or power play. It’s simply to project his own personal feelings onto others. His self loathing and hatred as well as the fact he feels like he failed as a friend all combine together. Although every thing i have said is negative, one thing he did gain is a soft spot for kind hearted people. He feels the need to protect them for some reason.

💯 Taehoon is still a rebellious teen, but he isn’t as immature anymore as he was before. He now solved his own problems and prefers to handle things on his own. He still doesn’t say anything to his old man who thinks he’s still immature. But he actually tries now to not let his own ego come between friendships or relationships.

💯 Taehoon still hasn’t dropped his bad habits of smoking or vaping but doesn’t do it as often anymore. Only here and there if he’s super tired and wants to relax or as a coping mechanisms for things he feels strongly about. If you complain about the smell he’ll avoid doing it in your presence, but if you vape/ smoke too he’ll share a with you.

💯 he will be very protective about you, often picking fights on your behalf or either bullying other people who bother you. It’s his way of showing you he cares. If you dislike violence Taehoon will try not to fight so much, but would fail quite more than he’d like to admit. He’ll grumble and mutter a soft ‘dammit.’ Or ‘okay fine…’ if you point out the no fighting policy. Taehoon will instead train more to vent out his frustration.

Thats all i could think of!

[viktheviking1]

Loona picked up the jester by the collar and held him out at arm’s length, “Who the f**k are you, and why are you messing with Blitz?” She growled.

“I could ask you the very same thing. Blitz was supposed to come here alone, not bring a lost pup with him. Who are you and why are you here meddling with our meddling?” the jester looked indignant, folding his arms stubbornly, in a physically impossible way.

Loona didn’t let it shake her, “I asked you first!”

“You’re the one showing up where you aren’t welcome.” the jester pointed out.

“I think you’re forgetting that I’m the one dangling you in the air. I could just throw you, ya know.” She grinned, showing her large sharp teeth.

“Oh, I’d like to see you try. Babe, mind showing her, who really has the upper hand?” the jester grinned as the fire rooster slowly stood up, becoming much, much taller than Loona. She had assumed he would be shorter from how he was curled up in a ball.

He picked her up by the scruff of her neck, and plucked the jester from her hands, who climbed onto his shoulder, “Hello, I do apologize for Fizz’s rude behavior. We’ve just been planning this intervention for awhile, and we don’t want to see it fall through. What’s your name, love?”

The fire chicken was surprisingly polite, even as she hung in the air, “It’s Loona.”

“Oh, oh, oh! I remember now! This is Blitz’s daughter! He showed me pictures of her.” the imp named Fizz pointed at her excitedly.

“Oh, Satan, I’m sorry.” The man placed her back down.

“Adopted, and not by choice. Now, who the f**k are you two clown suckers.” Loona dusted herself off.

Fizz grinned mischievously, “Haha! Only one of us here is a clown sucker and it isn’t me.”

The other one sighed, “As I said before, this is Fizz, he’s an old friend of Blitz’s. And uh, you can call me Oz. We’re trying to set Blitz up on a date with Stolas. The Goetian prince. Do you know him?”

“Blitz’s old friend? He doesn’t have old friends. Only old enemies and crazy ex’s. Why should I believe you?” Loona snarled.

“Haha, well, it’s a funny story, but uh, we used to be friends, then enemies, then, well, I don’t know what we are now, but the point is that I want him to be happy. And him f**king up with the Prince so often has been painful to watch, so since they aren’t talking with each other, we thought we’d force them together. Some good food and mood lighting always does the trick.” Fizz looked back through the window. Luckily Blitz had chosen the seat with its back to them so they weren’t in too much risk of being caught, standing out like this.

“Uh huh. And that’s exactly why you charged him real money for a fake event.” Loona looked down at the fool.

Oz jabbed fizz in the side with an elbow, “Fizzz!”

“Alright, fine. You can have it back, ya happy? Jeez.” He handed back the cash, disappointed.

“I don’t know if I believe all this but-” Loona stopped suddenly as her ear flicked behind her.

“What is it?” Oz asked, following her eyes.

Read more on The Pompous and The Prick:

[anzhin-the-starman]

Daily Writing Challenge: Day 3 - Mortality

[This lore is a part of Anzhin's story during the three-year peacetime after leaving the Shadowlands, sometime near the end of year three.]

TW: Depression, a quote of Foul Language/Suggestiveness, sudden Violence

A half-elf, bleary from sleep, wanders to the vanity beside his wardrobe. The growing brightness from enchanted lights is hidden by a scrim parting the room, keeping the shine from his lover still asleep in the mountains of cushions and fabrics that made his bed. On mornings like these, he looks a bit closer to his true age, especially when the glow catches the silvering strands of his hair.

'Has it really only been three years?' His thoughts whisper to him. 'Has it been three years since I lost my purpose? My job? My soul song?' He looks to one of many pictures and pieces of memory on the board on the wall cradling the vanity, the picture of Velathra and him at his last performance from three years past. 'I haven't sung with her since... We finally came up with a name for our partnership and we only used it once. She must be so disappointed in me.'

He puts a hand on his neck, looking at his sad reflection in the mirror. Even thinking to sing now makes his throat tight. Who is he? He's not a Diplomat for the Court of Night anymore, that job ended when mortals' meddling in the Shadowlands ended. He's not Starman, the singer has been silent for three long years, perhaps for forever.

Who is he? Who is Anzhin?

A half-elf that lost his meaning.

The self-loathing loop is broken by a gentle touch that gives him a start.

"Hey, babe... Are you okay?" Alathase whispers softly, draping his form over Anzhin, arms looping around the half-elf's neck. The cornsilk blond is so effortlessly pretty, petal-soft lips pressing to his boyfriend's cheek. "You look a little lost there... I'll make some tea, would you like that?"

Anzhin gives a demure nod, his voice barely above a hoarse croak. "Yes, please..."

Alathase nods in turn, slowly pulling himself away, but before he could get too far-- "What are your plans for today?" Anzhin asks, having turned and taken his hand. The Ranger smiles brightly in response. "Well, I was thinking I'd run some errands and spend some time with Evie tonight~ It's so rare our schedules actually work, you know?"

Anzhin nods, he understands. A smile even crosses his lips. Many of his partners are polyamorous themselves, and if they aren't, they understand that he himself certainly is. It's a comfort.

As Alathase disappears to the kitchen, Anzhin returns to looking at the vanity. His gaze fixes on those grey streaks again, pulling him back into the many thoughts that rattle in his mind. Such a change these simple strands bring into many of the relationships he has.

He has seen the fear in Zae'thas' gaze, the knowledge that the half-elf isn't as ageless as he is. He has also seen the so-calm sadness in Kelazen's face, understanding the passage of time, and the subtle concern in Vastherion's brow, the reminder that Anzhin is so very mortal. He's watched the panic in Allorian's face, the start of a desperate search for any sort of way to bargain with Death for him.

Jiroki's pity is rather visible to him, but he's assured himself that that is due to the trials and tribulations he's been going through to find his inner voice again while working with the Tarts.

Velathra, Velandrian, and Caythaes are rather unreadable about it, as their nature makes them nigh-immortal, and they know that anyone that isn't like them will age and die an eternity before they ever do. They are still quick to comfort him when the weight of his limited mortality bears down on him.

Aerien is indifferent to Anzhin's aging, finding it to be a rather minor detail. Alathase finds his 'graceful aging' to be especially attractive, saying, quote, "When all of this goes silver, I'm going to let you fuck me for a straight week."

It's a very wide range of emotions to deal with and comprehend. And there are still so many that he has yet to gauge a reaction from.

So, he sits. Pondering. With the help of a touch of illusion magic, he experiments. Different colors, with or without stubble, or a beard, maybe?

All ginger... It doesn't match his tired face anymore. It just looks like a man trying too desperately to cling to his youth. Away it goes.

Blond? Definitely doesn't match. Only for use with his Gremlin King costume.

He takes a breath... tries full silver. He grimaces, tinting his stubble to silver as well. It's... questionable. He tries a beard with it.

CRASH!!! The mirror shatters, a fist coated and embedded with shards of glass, the illusion gone.

Alathase rushes in with a worried noise, finding his boyfriend taking panicked breath and trembling, cradling a bloodied mess of a hand. "Ani, w-what?" He gently pulls him to stand, trying to bring him out of this shock-state. "Come on, where do you keep your first aid kit?" He could ask what happened later, once everything is calm again.

~ @daily-writing-challenge​

Mentions and Credits: Alathase Zae'thas and Kelazen @jessephantomhive​ Vastherion @danedrawn​ Allorian Jiroki @bread-elf​ Velathra and Velandrian @dragonsiblings Caythaes @mekandawn​ Aerien @thecastcompany​

[samuclit]

Love Foolish

miya atsumu x reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, mature, a little smut (define little on your own), 7.8K words

Summary: Miya Atsumu didn't realise that he was actually counting the days he spent with you while being your boyfriend. The step-process to how your relationship with him rekindles every time a new day begins was not as apparent as it seems to be, but he sure knew that the dreaded day when it comes to an end will never come.

This is an old piece that I worked on last year...I am terribly sorry for the way I post this fic I am not good with tumblr yall this is harder than my degree 

........................

Day 153

Atsumu was exhausted. He just got back from training with the college team for a few weeks already. He needs to catch up with the college team even though the time he spent away was used for his training with the MSBY Black Jackals team. He was advised by his family members, team coach and his friends that he should not miss out on any practice without a valid reason and should diligently claim his spot on both teams with the most outstanding effort and attitude so he followed, believed that this is for the best in order to build his volleyball career he was always so passionate about since he was in middle school. If only Osamu joins him, he thinks it won’t be as draining as it is right now.

Everyone in college knows Miya Atsumu, he is too perfect. The handsome look, tall and built figure, his diligence in both studies and shaping his career, to top it all off he is charming and is a ladies’ man. He could make every girl fall for him the instant he flashes his smirk that has been scientifically proven to be a bait for everyone in this universe. One small talk he could get girls on his bed, spending the whole night snogging off each other and leaving them whenever he got annoyed with the sudden disturbance. You happen to be one of the girls who got in his bed, goes on several dates with him, but this time you were one of the people who last longer than a week, and then a month and few more months after that. He assumes and waits for you to be the one ending the relationship but it won’t even come, and he is already tired of waiting.

So, he makes you tired. He doesn't want anything to be on his way at all, and you in the equation is making him disturbed at some times. During the first few weeks of dating, you often invite him for a date at the coffee shop which he obliges only for the reason to not break your feelings even though he has some tasks which are more important at hand. You are nice, but he isn’t. He told Suna that you deserve better. 

It has also been roughly two weeks since he last talked to you, and deep in his heart he kind of wants your nagging presence around him, just to distract him from the truckload of stress he’s carrying on his shoulders. So he texted you.

You: [Name], are ya coming or not. Been thinking of binging that Netflix series you’ve been babbling about.

[Name]: Ah sorry, it’s girls’ night with Midori and her gf. 

You: I see. Have fun. 

Seen.

That’s weird. You said it yourself that you wanted to binge on the weekends with him, after he finished with this practice for the week, and also he thinks that’s just you trying to make up with him after your first argument with him. It is...nobody’s fault, he thinks. He doesn’t want to blame himself and you, partially because you were really upset that day that you raised your voice and he didn’t chase you after you ran out of the apartment. It is just a silly argument. He doesn't want to think about it that much. 

As he took a shower and dressed himself in a fresh new pair of t-shirt and black sweatpants, he plopped himself on the sofa and went through Netflix to find something worth watching. He saw the show you wanted to watch ; Pretty Little Liars. Ah it’s not even a Netflix series, it’s just a series which is available on Netflix. Seems like he wasn’t even attentive to what you said. 

Before he falls asleep, he walks down the memory lane, to remember how exactly you and Atsumu could last this long in a relationship.

Day 0

The party seems to be a hit! His seniors on the volleyball team joined hands with the football team to conduct a party to celebrate post-sports festival of Tokyo U that happened for a week long and the party is held at the dorms outside of the campus so the board of education won’t meddle, with the promise that there aren’t drugs involved. Which is okay, the athletes are supposed to stay away from drugs and they’re disciplined enough to consider their life decisions. 

He was simply just hanging around in the living room of the dorm, which is a terrace house in a neighbourhood a few kilometres away, talking to his friends, Suna and Komori, who are his teammates in the college team. Komori used to go to the same Youth Camp with Atsumu so they knew each other since then. “Huh, sick party. I didn’t think there would be too many people here.” Komori said as he chugs down his cold beer, swaying a little after he finishes with a slightly long chug. “Senpai said just the athletes of the college are invited, but it seems like the whole campus crashed together. Lunatics.” Atsumu said as he plopped down on the bean bag and leaned his head back. Suna calls out.

“Oi, Midori is here. I invited her.” Atsumu is familiar with Midori, he has never been close with her but he knows of her since they went to the same high school together. The three pairs of eyes went towards the door together to greet Midori, with you tailing behind her. “Hey, glad ya made it!” Suna lunges forward and grabs Midori in a hug. “Yeah, cool place, I’m sorry I don’t have a plus one to bring with so I just drag my friend along. Hey, this is [Name]. Go say hi and be friends!” Midori pushed the other girl, which he heard to be [Name], also a familiar name. “Oh wait...you guys must have not have known about her...we went to the same school man...” Midori pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. It is sad that not many people know about small girls like [Name] that much. 

Indeed, you went to the same school and you’re in a completely different league than Atsumu, he was and still is the famous athlete that has the entire girls’ population wrapped around his fingers. You’re around the circle of...top scorers who are active in volunteers and some other stuff Atsumu was not into. “Oh, is she another one of your hockey teammates?” you continue hiding behind Midori’s taller frame. Midori pulled you away and hugged your waist, giving support. “Come on now, babe say hi, they’re our friends” you glared at her with a smug look. “Hye, it’s [Name]. I’m not an athlete, I’m a political science major, pleasure to meet ya” your eyes tried to glance from Suna to Komori and to Atsumu but you averted your eyes away from him as soon as it landed on him. You look cute in just a rock concert t-shirt with black jeans shorts and plain converse. Classic party look, but you are not the type to go to parties because...assignments and stress are getting through you  which explains why you’re all fidgety. Midori knows there’s more to that, cause you’re a very wild extrovert at some time.

“Hey, enjoy the party, drinks and snacks are down there, the toilet is on another end, help yerself.” Atsumu pats on your shoulder and moves past you to greet his other friends who crashed the party. You’re petrified, to say the least and moved quick on your heels to head to the bathroom for some reality check. The environment is overwhelming. 

Atsumu gets tired easily even after downing a can of beer but he isn’t exactly drunk. He is just tired with the lots of conversations and the girls from other courses trying to talk to him, wanting the conversation in a bedroom which he said no to, he is a responsible man. He is not going to do it with them when in their drunken stupor. However, his endless denials are stopped with a sudden disturbance right in front of him.

Midori is on a couch, with a girl and was playing with her hair and occasionally rubbing her thigh and before they closed in someone threw a beer cup at Midori. “What the hell? Leave me alone!” Midori turned his body to see a bulked up guy whose name Atsumu doesn’t remember behind the couch, looming over the two figures sitting on the couch. It’s going to get ugly. 

“What the fuck, you leave us alone! Why the hell are homos here. Get out!”  Midori and the poor girl trembles in fear and Atsumu wants to blow a kick so bad but he can’t move because of the girls that are around him. Before he tried to push the girls away, he saw you moving towards him, taking away the beer can he has in his hands. “I’m sorry I’m taking this!” Your eyes had a small fire ignited in it and he can’t help but gave away his beer can, and then he saw you walking up on the couch and on to the head rest, spit into the beer and pours the beer all over the homophobic guy who slandered your friend. The guy was drenched and screamed because the beer was icy cold and it came to contact with his skin that got heated from way too much alcohol consumed. 

“Oh, I am very sorry, I was convinced that this big hunk of muscle is a trash can!” you screamed with an evil laughter and the whole party laughed and cackled at the sight of the giant asshole from Engineering talking shit about the woman adored by the majority of campus. Midori is your best friend, a very kind, beautiful  and valid lesbian friend of yours. You would do anything to protect her from the touch of homophobic devils that would insult her every now and then. It has been happening more recently after she got out of the closet, even when she was inside all this time, you have always given her tons of support and protection because it’s just something about you. Midori was already smiling and got herself up away from the sofa with the girl she was with, hands holding hers tightly. 

“You punk! Are ya crazy? Do ya want me to kill ya like I kill your friend here?” your figure who had one leg propped on the head rest while the other on the couch went tense and is about to fall and the nasty asshole grabbed you by the neck, having you lifted in the air and no one helped to stand against him except Midori who was pulling your body before the guy fully grasped your entire neck in his hands. Before he even pressed harder on your throat, Atsumu landed a punch on his face, making himself knocked down on the floor. You already fell flat on the couch, trying to regain your breath. He warns the guy off and he immediately leaves after. 

“Shit shit, are you okay?” Atsumu kneels on the floor to check up on you, who were lying on the couch, still coughing out and trying to calm down. Midori ran to get some water for you. “I’m fine, fine, where's Midori? Is she okay?” Midori hit you in the arm. “Idiot. I am fine but look at you, I told you I’m alright, if you give them attention and piss them off they will harm you, look what happened.” Midori cries and hugs you. Atsumu checked up on your face, saw tiny drops on the edge of your eye which got wiped away the instant Midori wrapped her arms around you. “I told you  I will always protect you okay, I promised you that” Midori looked at your face again and was still sobbing. She turns towards Atsumu who stood by them. Suna and Komori arrived in the space after making sure the guys had run off. The party went back to normal and it’s chaos again. 

“Thank you, Atsumu, if it weren’t for you, I don’t know what would happen to the both of us.” The girl from before is rubbing her hands on Midori’s back trying to calm her down. “No, [Name] did the most fight, I only come in when it gets physical. I let ya know when I see that guy again I am going to beat the living shit out of him. Nasty jackass.” Atsumu’s rage calms down when he sees you and Midori laugh, finally he makes a safe space for you and her. After some minutes of calming down and talking and giggling Midori takes the cue to leave. “I think I need to go now, need to take some air, you should, too, babe. Love you” Midori hugged and left with the girl she was with the entire time during the party.

Atsumu has long left you and Midori alone when you were busy talking to her, so he goes away somewhere to talk with some of the boys from the football club. They heard something about how that guy is a maniac and has been expressing his hate crimes for several years now, basically a loser and Atsumu thinks his sucker punch is something he could take pride in. After he saw Midori take off with the girl he saw you heading towards the door that linked to the backyard. More people were there, some were laying on the ground doing some unnecessarily lewd stuff that Atsumu does not want to remember.

He saw you taking a seat on one of the stools that was set up for guests to sit. He brought a can of beer, intended to give you. As he approaches you were rubbing around the area on your throat which the bully from before had pressed on. You were still in pain. “Hey, needa drink?” Atsumu hands over the beer while he sits down on the stool next to you. “Ah, I’m sorry I don’t...drink around guys. Trust issues.” Atsumu furrowed his eyebrows and he finally got what you were trying to say. “Oh, I totally get it, I’m sorry.” You were a flustered mess. You didn’t intend to actually...reject a kind offer from him but it’s a strange new place and strange new environment, though you knew Atsumu from high school to be quite a decent person that you– “[Name]? Are ya okay? Ya were about to say something earlier?” “Oh, yeah. You don’t have to apologise, we can just go for drinks some other times'' you let out a small laugh and he smiles. Awkward.

“Ya don’t have to worry about that guy, I heard someone is going to report him to the dean. He’ll be out in no time” you smirked. “Good! Midori must be happy”. The both of you laughed and the  conversation continued randomly, topics about his volleyball activities and you popping in some random thoughts about life to him, it makes him feel weird at first but he picks up after quite some time.

And the night goes with you spending your night with him on his small bed in the apartment he shared with his other friends. Kisses are littered all over your body and Atsumu leads you through your first intimate session with so much ease and gentleness. He left an especially passionate kiss on the neck that tells the stories of your fight and trauma, hoping that he could kiss it away and replace it with the memories of your first. “Are ya really sure about this?” Atsumu asked at one point when you were making out with him on his lap just right after he got you in his room. “Please, do what you want” and Atsumu continues to ravish you and pulls on every article that trapped your beautiful untouched body. 

The morning he woke up, you were sleeping soundly, despite the uncovered chest you had on display cause you fell asleep after the second round of fucking you had no chance to clean up or put on a shirt. The messy hair and arousing look you had on aside, you look too peaceful to be on someone’s bed, someone who you have known for a long time but have only gotten close from an impromptu encounter so Atsumu threw the plans of getting out of bed aside and continues watching the small details on your face. He would pick up the falling strands of your hair and tucks it behind your ear, trailing his fingers on the swollen lips you had after making out with him the entire night. He enjoys your presence. He likes it, being with you, so this is all worth it. 

As your eyes fluttered open, squinting because of the bright sun, which was now covered by Atsumu’s hands to help you get back to sleep without the disturbance. You woke up anyway. “Atsumu, what are ya doing?” you asked, trying to pull the blanket that barely covers your naked front. “Just letting a princess continue her peaceful sleep” you were blushing, it feels like a dream to wake up with Atsumu next to you, so you lean into him more and he tackles you under the sheets. As Atsumu closes in again, about to kiss you like he did the previous night before, your eyes widened and you pushed him away, rolling out of bed naked. You pulled the blanket to cover yourself and scrammed to find your underwear and outfit from last night. “Fuck, fuck I’m late shit I gotta go” you were clasping your bra and putting on your underwear as you continue with your series of cuss words picked up at random. “What’s going on are you okay? Was it–“ you put on your jean shorts and looked at him. “No-no I’m late to a group discussion and I am going to die I think.” You already had your phone in hand with your bag in hand running to the door. Atsumu put on his sweatshirt and training shorts in a haste, offering to give you a ride. 

“Hey, I can help ya get to yer spot with my car. Don’t have ta rush'' you gaped and mumbles thousands of gratefulness and lunges forward to hug but stopped yourself. In the car you were on a phone call with one of the people in your group and you immediately spilled the idea you had in mind in a heartbeat. Atsumu has been driving nowhere so he stops and parked his car at the parking space of the nearby McDonald’s. After several arguments and reasons to have your opinion accepted you finally heaved a relief and ended the call with another apology. 

“Yer quite a persistent one aren’tcha?” you looked at him, face messy, unclean and tired. The post-sex glow seems to not work with everyone. “Yeah, there’s an event and I’m in charge. I was so caught-off guard. Pretty sure they will kick me out if they don’t accept my idea but guess not!” you laughed and smiled gleefully. Pure satisfaction whenever people acknowledge us. Atsumu understood that much. “So...since you don’t have to go...breakfast?” Atsumu points his thumb to the back of the car, which was the entrance to the McDonald’s. “No...I stink so much...but I am hungry so....drive-thru?” Atsumu smiles and puts down the handbrake. “Sure thing, princess”.

After you both got your respective breakfast meal set, Atsumu takes off to the lake and brought you together with him to eat on the benches. Atsumu enjoys the company as much as you did. What starts off with a random conversation of how the duck is limping, to talking about the fluffiness of the poodle someone took for a walk turns into a conversation about each others’ personal lives.

“If anything, virginity is a social construct to put down women, so if you think last night is fun just because of that, I am going to berate your entire existence” you warn him, mouth full with the breakfast muffin. “Sure, what’s fun about last night is that you’re hot and I like you.” Atsumu closes in, trying to make you feel more flustered. “You...like me?” you were blushing and he guessed that his classic method works. “Can say that, I don’t usually have breakfast with people I sleep with, so I think that’s how I know.” You scoffed as his smug smile grew wider. “Oh you’re quite a cheesy one. So, this isn’t just a one time thing?” you looked over to him. He said no and continued kissing you like he meant it. 

Days after that, the dates are frequent, spending the night in his apartment is a routine, watching movies is a norm and the intimate sessions get more interesting for the past few months, he thinks he needs to tell you all about his fantasy and you told him yours and both wishes are fulfilled.

Day 150

Atsumu woke up from the nap, the movie was already finished by then. He reached for his phone which was ringing non-stop. He's going to puke his brains out. Midori was the one calling him. There are around 7 missed calls coming from Midori.

“Oi pisshead, your girlfriend’s drunk. Come and pick her up.” Atsumu looks at the time

10.50

“Didn’t last that long?” Atsumu giggles. Midori snapped. 

“I’m being serious. She gets crazier now you need to pack her up. I can’t because my girlfriend is as shit-faced drunk right now.” Midori starts to call out your name to get off the table. Whatever that happened it must have been really shitty what’s going on down there at the bar.

“Okay, just text me the address I’m on my way” Atsumu took his wallet and car keys with him, all fresh to fetch your drunk ass home. 

As soon as he arrived he stormed to the booth which you and Midori sat at. You were already lying down on the couch, fast asleep and giggling as you sleep. “Okay you’re here. I’m going home with my girlfriend so you take care of her properly.” Midori sat herself at the couch you were sleeping on. “[Name].....I’m going now so take care okay! Love you goodnight!” you were whining so loudly at her. “Nooooo....Midoriiiii-chan I am going to miss you don’t leave me” you were pouting and whining and hug Midori to prevent her from going. Atsumu stood at the side watching the mess unfold. “Your boyfriend is here to pick you up! Goodbye!” Midori dragged her girlfriend away and got out of the bar.

“Midori’s good at lying. There’s no way my boyfriend cares ‘bout me” Atsumu covers his face in shame because the other customers at the bar are looking at you. “Who are ya...are you a stranger? Can I call you Mr Stranger? You look handsome.” You giggled and Atsumu laughed at your cuteness. This is certainly a new side to you, he has never seen you turn into a giant ball of fluff before. “Okay now cmon Miss [Name] let’s get ya home.” Atsumu swooped your legs in his right hand while the other supported the small back of your body. Your eyes are still squinting which must be the reason why you can’t recognise Atsumu yet. 

“I miss my boyfriend Mr Stranger. I want to see him...please take me to see him pleassseeeee.” You buried your face in his chest and held on to the cotton string of his hoodie. “Oh yeah? Is he really that handsome?” he puts you in the passenger seat and buckles your seatbelt. “He is! His hair colour is a bit funny, Midori said it makes it look like he bathed in piss” Atsumu got that too many times already. “But in my very personal point of view, it is kind of biased, he rocks that look. He looks hot!” Atsumu blushed and proceeded to head to the driver’s seat. It’s you and your habit of expressing too many opinions again. He liked this one. He also misses your constants chit chat after a whole month of not talking to each other because of a petty argument. He admits that he misses you so much, but a jerk like him won’t admit it. He’s going to break up with you anyway.

As he continues driving he would listen to what you said about ‘your boyfriend’ and he would sometimes smirks and whispers an ‘I know’ and sometimes it is too loud you caught him in the act. The night drive seems fun with you, and he figures you are still too drunk and even with too much talking your body stays the same. You fell asleep at some point, when he is close to the apartment you resided in. He found out after quite some time that Midori moved into her girlfriend’s apartment so now you live alone. 

Even after he arrives at the apartment complex he lets you take some time to sleep, and as time passes by and it’s getting later into the night, he shakes your shoulder to wake you up. 

“Hey, [Name], we’re here.” Atsumu smiles as you yawn and stretches your limbs.

“Mr Stranger? I have a secret. Can I tell you...I’m afraid to tell anyone.” You said after some time. Atsumu had no idea what to do. So he just played along. “Yeah, I promise I will keep it.” Atsumu laughs and looks at you. 

“I think my boyfriend doesn’t love me. I kind of got the gist of it for a long time...but...now I am convinced. I think...the next time I see him, will be the last time I see him. And I–I don’t wanna” you cried immediately, you were sobbing too hard and you covered your face with the both of your palms. Atsumu is shattered especially, what you said was true. He might break it off when time comes, but seeing your heart broken and giving up the usual happy and chaotic smile and laughter you had because of the thought of breaking up with him, he felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. So he asked further. He needs to know more, he needs to know why. Why do you catch up to what he was thinking so fast? 

“W-why is it?” Atsumu choked on his breath. His heart was thumping so loudly, and it was beating off the charts. “He seems to not want me around...I tried my best to give him space, time for himself  but....he never wants a time wimme....and then...I-he-he don’t want to see me even when he is free”. You continue crying in the silent car, Atsumu wanted to reach your hands but he knew that would be such an asshole thing to do since he is the one causing this mess. Atsumu got out of the car and opened the door from your seat. “Hey hey let’s get you to your apartment okay?” Atsumu unbuckled the seat belt and you kept on crying, you pulled on his sweater and gripped it so tightly and wailed like a baby into his chest. He sighed and embraced you in a tight hug, calmly rubbing the small of your back trying to calm you down. 

After quite some time only the sniffles could be heard. You start talking again. “You know...I’d rather see him happy even if it means I need to break up with him. Ah I’m so dramatic for no reason. Can you help...carry me to my apartment, Mr Stranger?” you pulled away from his hug, makeup ruined and eyes red. Atsumu smiled and nodded at you. “Of course, I’ll carry you.” He carried you in a manner when he hugs your tiny body to carry you to the bed during one of those nights he needed a release. This closeness to your warm body, and the earlier event that happened of you confessing to a complete stranger about him, he is regretting it. 

Day 125

Atsumu just got home from South Korea. He was there for a training camp with the home team there because one of his coach from the MSBY Black Jackals used his connections with an old friend to conduct a camp for them to further polish the players’ skill in the said sport. It would be a great chance for him to bloom more than how he is after his successful debut as a Div. 1 League player. 

He was simply relaxing around after two days and Osamu was cooking plenty of food for the gang. Osamu invited some friends of his, and Suna brought his girlfriend with him. Komori was there too, with his cousin. When Osamu asked if he was going to invite you, Atsumu shrugged and said no, he wants to relax without you around. Even if you are around you would never go that far to make him uncomfortable. He still hasn’t called you yet even when he landed in Tokyo two days before. 

“Atsumu, didn’t ya miss yer girlfriend? Just tell her to come over.” Osamu said from the kitchen, bringing a pot of stew he made for the gang and putting it on the table. “Nah, she didn’t even know I’m in Tokyo.” Everyone in the living room looks at him. “Miya you’re kinda an asshole for that” Komori said as he passed a bowl to Suna and his girlfriend. “Cmon now don’t look at me like I’m a criminal or sumn...I just want to relax I’ll tell her later.” Atsumu scoffed and leaned his back to the sofa as he was sitting on the carpet.

“Are you...joking. She came by practice the other day, said she can’t reach you.” Sakusa said as he put down his mask aside and dug in. Atsumu knew that. He purposely ignored your text and calls and only left a message when you’re offline or when he knows you were sleeping. He doesn't want distractions. “Yer a prick, [Name]’s really nice and ya can’t see that. If ya got issues just break up already.” Suna speaks and his girlfriend agrees. “Yeah for real, if Rintarou had issues I know he is going to leave my ass in the streets. But I’m glad he has no problems. As a woman I will honestly kick you in the ass, ya know, that woman with woman solidarity.” Suna kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and Atsumu scoffed. “I know, I just don’t know the right time yet.” Komori already mumbles a series of cuss words,  Osamu and Suna sigh and Suna pulls his girlfriend back from kicking Atsumu in the face. Sakusa heard a doorbell and reached for the door now to open.

“[Name]?” Sakusa screams in shock. Speaking of the witch. Well, you’re not a witch, you’re the sweetest person ever that happens to be Atsumu’s unlucky girlfriend. “Hey Sakusa-san! Nice to see you! I brought something!” you waltzed in the door and headed to the kitchen you’re already familiar with. Atsumu felt his guilt eating his insides. Who the fuck called you here? 

Komori puts his phone up so Atsumu can see. Komori smirks at him and Atsumu flashes out the middle finger to him. Sakusa mumbles and points at Atsumu, he said somewhere along the lines of you solve this on your own, Miya! 

Osamu headed to greet you first. “Hey Osamu, I brought some home made dorayaki for you and Atsumu. You guys love it right?” Osamu smiles and thanked you endlessly. You smiled but as you looked at the awkward little Atsumu behind Osamu you stopped smiling. He headed towards you and Osamu knows it’s his cue to leave the both of you in the kitchen.

“Hey, how’s South Korea?” Atsumu sat on the chair of the kitchen island. “Twas good. The food there, they’re amazing.” You hummed. “Glad you enjoyed it. Maybe I would know more if you actually answer my calls and texts about how busy you are and tell me when you arrived. But it seems like you don’t miss me that much.” You sighed. 

“[Name], I’m just...I’m sorry I need time for myself I’m so tired.” You looked at him, sad and gloom covering your whole body like the dark blue cardigan you had around you. “Tired of me or of practice?” you asked and reached for the tips of his fingers. “That’s–that’s not it, okay. Please give me some time.” Atsumu pleaded, you flinched when he suddenly glared at you. 

After some time, you released a deep breath and headed to the door. “Enjoy the dorayaki guys, I hope I don’t interrupt you guys. I’m sorry and please take care of Atsumu for me.” You opened the door and headed out. Atsumu is still in his seat. When the door was slammed he got up and sat himself back on the carpet around his friends. He picks up his chopsticks and pulls the omelette Osamu made. Everyone was staring at him.

“Eat your food and stop staring at me.” Atsumu rolled his eyes and ate more food on the table. “Ya don’t even want to chase her?” Osamu asked from beside him. “Nope.” Komori scoffed. 

“Just want you to know she got here by bus alone. I don’t know if it helped change your mind.” Komori said and drank his cold lemon tea he poured for himself. Atsumu stopped chewing and clenched his jaw, looking at Komori.

“The one who ruined lunch is you, Atsumu.” Suna’s girlfriend said and Suna agreed. So does everyone else. 

You don’t leave a text to Atsumu to the day he picked you up from the bar. He only texted you because he wants to end the relationship.

Day 153

Atsumu still has you in his arms. You’re already asleep, face still drenched with tears. He struggled with the pin to your apartment but picks up after a while of thinking. It is his birthday. 

Atsumu realised he is a bigger asshole than how he was minutes ago in the car as he remembered that he had never come to your apartment. Months of relationship it was always his place as you always preferred his place over yours and he thinks that maybe if he was the one giving in more effort to be the one going all the way to your apartment to spend time with you, he would have felt  better about himself. Normal dates outside are very rare aside from lunch or a quick grab of coffee before classes because he was too busy with his practices and you with your duties as a political science student.

He carried you to what he assumed to be your bedroom, carefully putting your body on the bed, taking off the leather jacket you had with you, slowly dragging the thick comforter to cover your shivering body. After shuffling in the kitchen, looking to find some aspirin and a glass of water for you to gargle right after you woke up he put it on the desk at your bedside. 

He saw a picture of you and Midori on the table, during graduation day. Midori carried you on her back while you threw a peace sign with tongue out and Midori making a disgusted face. He laughs at it, putting it back to where it belongs, carefully. 

You had a lot of other pictures pasted on the wall, the one that faces you when you sit on your study table. The notes and thick books are messily arranged on the shelf, a succulent that says ‘Good Job!’ on the table standing cutely, possibly the one that kept you up during the late night study sessions. He never really checked up on you and your studies, how did you manage to be so strong on your own without a supportive boyfriend, he doesn't know. 

And then he saw the pictures you hung neatly. He took the pictures one by one and saw some notes you scribbled on the back of the photograph. 

First, a picture with your parents. You talked about them at some time because you’re their only daughter and you missed them as much as they missed you. One time when you were making out with Atsumu your parents called and you pushed him away to answer the phone call. So funny how you got so innocent and angel-like just right after doing some lewd stuff with Atsumu just with the voice of your parents on the phone. At the back of the picture, it wrote.

Secured the top-scorer title with a scholarship! Mommy and Daddy are proud of me and I will never stop!

The second picture is of you and Midori at a pride parade. This time you wore a white t-shirt with blue jeans and sneakers and you looked absolutely mesmerizing. 

Pride with Midori. I am so happy for her!!

Some other pictures of you at an animal shelter, old folks home, in the streets, caring for homeless people, women’s march and marathon for cancer awareness. You were basically everywhere and it is what makes him regret not finding out about this side of you. All he does is talk about his talent in volleyball and you always make him feel the best that he never gave a chance for you to talk about yourself. 

Atsumu can’t stop the stretch of his smile and it is making his jaw sore. He is so whipped for you. You have always been such a caring person to him, doing your best to take care of him when game losses make his sour mood make a nasty comeback. 

He would cry in a phone call because he messed up his set and you arrived in his room, dropping your bag to hug him and lull him back to sleep. He cries so hard and you would never make him cry worse than he did, you were always comforting but his pride and selfishness would forget that in a day because he thinks the relationship you had with him is a waste. 

Atsumu is a fool. He didn’t realise how much his confusion hurts you more than it hurts himself. He is such a fool for not being there to protect you. The thought of you crying minutes earlier makes him scream in his heart, he doesn't ever want to see it again. If he made that happen again he will never forgive himself and if he has to build a shrine and be a monk to make sure his sins are forgiven he would do it. He would do anything for you. 

The last picture hid him the hardest.

It was him, and you, during his debut game as MSBY Black Jackals setter. 

You had your body leaned into his arm, smiling wide with a bouquet of flowers for him in your hand. He was staring at the camera with a lazy smirk, hands encircling your waist. It was sweet, and you look very cute standing next to him, in his embrace like that. A sight so beautiful. It is a shame when he remembers what exactly happened that night.

It was a very joyful day for Atsumu and for you but Atsumu didn’t even tell you about the match, you were only informed of the game because of Komori so the ticket you got is because Osamu gave up his ticket for you. He is tired of seeing Atsumu play volleyball and he can see it on his phone if he wants so he just gave it to you, saying you deserve it better. Even when you’re not informed about the game, you still showed up in the cutest little dress with the cutest little smell and the cutest bouquet of baby breath flowers for him. 

Atsumu is not fond of flowers. He is not fond of surprises either. When you showed up on the court, congratulating him, he was shocked. He was busy talking to fangirls and kids who love volleyball until you call out his name with so much pride. 

“Atsumu aaaa I am so proud of you! You worked so hard for this and I am sorry I don’t know of this sooner.” You hugged him and pat his back when you hugged him. Eyes glistening as you pulled away. Said the cries are happy tears. You told one of the passers-by to take a picture of you and Atsumu, resulting in the small piece of photography in his hand.

Later that night he went with his team and celebrated the debut together with them while you took off to your apartment, barely making it to the last bus of the night to get there safely, wishing you were with Atsumu in his car instead.

He turned the picture over. There is a long note there.

Might be the first ever picture with Atsumu, like ever. Nonetheless I am so happy and so proud of him it made my jaw hurt so much as I write this. I can’t stop smiling!!! I hope I can attend more of his games, more to his success, more time with him. I feel like I am the happiest person alive! I feel like one of the fantasy film protagonists where the person they have loved for a long time is within their arms, finally! I am so happy to have known Atsumu since the beginning days of school, how his charming and cunning personality, inspiring and charismatic figure would walk down the hallways of Inarizaki, I will always fall for him over and over again. I love him so much, and even if it takes a thousand years to wait for him I will always wait. Praying that this essay reaches the Gods because I love him too much, I don’t even want to let him go. I love Miya Atsumu, and I hope he feels the same thing too.

Atsumu pasted the picture back on the wall, turning off the study lamp and closing the door as he walked out. He sat on the couch in the living room, only having the kitchen light to illuminate the entire apartment. As he sat there, tears rolled off his eyes and loud sobs spilled out of his mouth. 

He realised he is such a foolish man, living in a complete lie with an angel from heaven taking care of him despite getting paid dust in return. He cried so hard he took the pillow next to him and cried himself to sleep. 

Day 154

If it is not for the bubbling and disturbing feeling in your stomach, you wouldn’t have gotten up and run to the bathroom to puke your guts out, but here you are. Smelling so stinky you just take a shower along the way. Fresh out of the shower in clean new clothes you saw a tall glass of water with your birth control pills right beside it. After downing the glass of water you headed to the kitchen to grab an aspirin to calm down the throbbing pain of your chest.

What you found instead is the sight of Atsumu, wearing an apron on top of his white t-shirt. It has been way too long since you have last seen him, and you didn’t expect to encounter him in your apartment, let alone him in the kitchen, preparing a breakfast for two. “Atsumu! What are you doing here!” you screamed audibly to him and got to the table to see a tray of rice and a bowl of soup on the table. 

“Ah, ya woke up earlier than I thought ya would, was intending to make breakfast on bed like in that one cheesy film you love so much.” You blushed. You headed to the cupboard and popped the aspirin into your mouth with the assistance of the barley tea Atsumu prepared for you. 

As you sat down awkwardly, he pulled out the rice bowl and put the tray in the sink and scooped another bowl of rice and soup for himself. He prepared a hearty meal for two, a miso soup to help you sober down and ease the gut after rounds of alcohol shots dumped in your body. 

Right, you were drunk last night. “So why are you here?” you asked after spooning out the final drop of the miso soup. “You remember nothing at all?” Atsumu asked. “Wait...so...Midori didn’t lie?” you asked again. Just realising that Midori already told you that your boyfriend was there. 

“Oh my god...how much did I say?” you pressed your palms on your face and dropped them to your lap. Atsumu smiles. 

“You said a lot! You said too much that it made me learn a lot.” Atsumu reaches your hands the moment it gets on to the table. He clasped it with care and so much gentleness even when his hand is calloused and rough from the intense training for so many days in a week. 

Atsumu sighs and hangs his head low. “I just realised that all this time, our relationship is one-sided” you gasped and the grip on his hands gets tighter. “I...took you for granted. I never gave you a comfort space to live in, a shoulder to cry on, and I have never...expressed my feelings for you.” You were trembling and Atsumu fully connected your fingers with his, interlacing it together hoping that neither of you will let it go.

“All this time you were always there for me, no matter what I was struggling with, no matter the time and place you would rush and hug me and tell me that it will be okay but I let you cry on your own whenever you deal with the same problem. I made a big mistake, and I swear to my life that I will make it up to you.” You got up from your seat and went to the sink along with your empty bowls. Atsumu got there too, hugging you from behind. 

“I am so sorry for being late, I love you. I love you so much that it hurts when I see you get hurt because of me.” Atsumu hugged you like he would make you dissolve in his body, it was so tight and warm and comforting it felt like home.

Miya Atsumu is your home. You are his home. And so he kisses your hair, your neck, your shoulders to make sure you won’t disappear before him, to tell you that what he said is true. 

You turned around. Holding his head in your hands.

“Atsumu, I love you too, and I missed you so much.” You smiled as the tears dropped, and Atsumu thinks this sight of yours hurts him as much as it makes his heart feel warm. It was a mixed feeling, but he knows that the perfect moment is right there, he holds your waist and your neck and kisses you on the lips with so much need and passion, to tell you that he loves you.

Your hands went to wrap itself on his neck, occasionally stopping by to run your hair through the blonde locks you love so much. He kisses in deeper and languid motion; it makes your head drowsy, worse than what the alcohol did to you but the sensation is nice. The alcohol was bitter and you hated it, this kiss tastes sweet and flavourful and you love it.

Atsumu continues while he carries you towards the bedroom he left you in alone last night, slowly putting your body on the messy bed who still has the scent of you from last night. It is supposed to gross you out but Atsumu is making it harder for you to breathe so nothing really matters, and Atsumu loves the scent as much as you love his oozing warmth that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He continues peppering kisses along your entire body, just like the night when you first spent together. Shirts off, pants off, underwear off. There’s nothing in the way of the both of you in the intense love-making session. Atsumu loves the way his name rolls on your tongue as he nibbles addictively on your neck, your chest and your tummy that is filled with the food he made for you, the love he had in store from his heart is delivered into you with so much ease. He plans to deliver some more as his kisses turn more passionate as the clock ticks, tongue intermingles and liquid drooling out of each other’s hot mouth.

Atsumu is already so eager to get inside you but he always has to prioritise you before him so he asked you. “Can I-can I get on with it now?” he asked, trying to recollect his breath at the same time while he looks for a particular wrapper in the drawer of your bedside table. “It’s fine, Atsumu, I’m on birth control.” You smiled at him and he smiled back, caressing your cheeks, touching your lips and tucking your hair behind your cute ears he loved to kiss so much. “You know, you mistook the birth control pills for aspirin that’s why I rummaged through the whole cupboard to look for one.” You gave him a glare so cute he continues kissing you. “My bad, baby. Can I get in now?” He asked with a teasing little smirk displayed on his stupidly handsome face.

“Yes, you can Atsumu.” You kissed him on the cheeks and hugged his neck as he entered. Inches by inches you sucked him in and he would kiss your temple to make you feel better after the stretch. The time away clearly made a lot of changes between the two of you, and it all makes this event more admirable than the ones before, because of the heartfelt confession you shared with him in the morning. All he wants to do is kiss your body like it is the only thing in this world worth worshipping. You are the most beautiful thing that ever happened in his life anyway, and he would never regret anything in his life anymore.

After the both of you peaked, he released into you, stayed there for a few minutes and took it out after he finally made your deep furrowed eyebrows disappear. You finally relax after the soothing time with your dearest one and he plopped himself next to you. 

Atsumu opened his arms and you found him inside it, getting smooches here and there as he hugged you. He would play with your hair, draw stars on the naked back of yours, and you would draw circles on his chest as you listen to the small heart beat in him. 

His heart was beating because of you.

“Hey, that noise in there is because of ya.” Atsumu kissed you on the forehead. 

“Oh really, yer not special, Miya, listen to mine!” you said with a glare after hitting him playfully on his chest.

“Uhuh...can I kiss it? Like this?” Atsumu continues his attack on your chest and you laughed loudly as he starts skimming his fingers on your waist and your tummy. He was smiling and laughing into the attack. 

Atsumu thinks that even if it is true that he is a fool, at least he is a fool that is so foolishly in love with you. 

[tulsa-trash]

Dallas x Cherry Headcanons

WARNING(S): swearing, mention of s*xual content, kind of angsty

I’d like to believe that Cherry and Dally would be such a cute “Good Girl with the Bad Boy” couple.

But realistically, especially when considering Dal’s true character, their relationship would most definitely be t o x i c

They would be THAT couple that’s always breaking up and getting back together.

Longest break up they had lasted two weeks, they’re both hella petty so those two weeks were all because they were waiting on each other to see who would reach out first.

Constant bickering and arguments.

Usually over the most minuscule things.

You think Dal is mature enough to not start a fight over who drank the rest of the milk in his apartment???

Think again sis.

“sOmE gUyS mY aGe MaN... ThEy FoRgEt AbOuT dRiNkiNg MiLk.”

^ if you know, you know LMAO

Dal is extremely stubborn, so as you can assume he will never admit to being wrong and he rarely apologizes for anything.

Which leaves most conflict in the relationship unresolved..

So you bet your a*s old sh*t that still bothers them stays getting brought up in new fights.

They both have issues with jealousy.

Dallas is very protective when it comes to the people in his life, as well as territorial.

What belongs to him is his, anyone or anything that tries to meddle with whats his and he’ll go ballistic.

A lot of fights have occurred due to him seeing another guy try to approach her and flirt.

Def is that douchebag boyfriend that tries to tell her what she can and can’t wear.

“Change out of that right now.”

“Dal, I love this skirt no way!”

“I’ll rip it off you if I have to.”

But Dal ain’t no saint though lemme tell you bbg.

A lot of their arguments stem up from Cherry seeing him with other girls.

Cherry isn’t blind, she knows that Dallas Winston isn’t the type of man that’s going to remain faithful and settle down with anyone.

Knowing that, the thought of him getting bored of her and leaving is one of her biggest fears.

Still doesn’t stop her from staying with that stupid, handsome, bastard.

The t o x i c i t y I--

She once found a letter left behind for him in his room at Buck’s, it was hanging from a magnet on the fridge...

“Thanks for the fun night, hope to do it again sometime.” -Sylvia

She crumpled it up, threw it away, and never even spoke a word about it.

Although it still eats at her every single day..

One time when Dal got locked up, Cherry wanted to visit him. Begged her parents to let her borrow the car to go see him, they refused and instead she was given a lecture about how she shouldn’t be wasting her time with that “criminal.”

Pleaded with her friends who had cars to give her a ride, said they wouldn’t be caught dead outside of the police station with her.

Ended up walking with Ponyboy to go see him.

Speaking of good ol' pone bone, he was extremely butthurt when he found out they were dating.

Legit avoided Dallas for like a week after he found out.

Anywaysssss enough with all the angsty stuff lemme talk about some of the cute stuff.

On some occasions where Dal really f*cks up and doesn’t know how to fix it, he will go out and get her small gifts.

Such as candy, jewelry, food, etc.

Sometimes he will even send Marcia with some money to a boutique to get her a new article of clothing.

Because let’s be honest here, Dally would never step foot inside of a boutique lol.

If that doesn’t work then he always pulls her up into a huge hug when he see’s her, lifting her up off the ground and squeezes her tightly. She can’t ever resist the urge to giggle when he starts kissing her all over her face.

“You still mad at me, brat?”

“I’m always gonna be mad at you, Winston.”

He let her braid his hair once... never again will that happen.

“Wow, Dal! You sure do look pretty.”

“Shut up.”

“I think I’m gonna start callin’ ya ‘doll’ instead of ‘babe’.”

“Don’t even push it, kid.”

Dal sneaks through her bedroom window unannounced practically whenever he feels like it.

Even if she’s not home, you know this man got the balls to just sit and wait. Get a nice nap in on her bed.

He also peeps in her underwear drawer whoopsie what a perv.

“What the hell are you doing here!? you got any idea how much trouble I’ll be in if my parents catch you in here!?”

“Jeez, babe. I come over to surprise you and that’s how you’re gonna greet me?”

They went to get their first tattoos together !!

Well she went to watch Dally get one, then he convinced her to get one too.

Let’s just say Cherry has a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on her ankle that no one other than Dallas knows of.

He ended up getting a tattoo for Johnny on his forearm.

I’m not crying you’re crying.

He gives Cherry his Christopher.

“Am I the tenth girl that has received the honor of wearin’ this?”

“The second. I’m hopin’ I can trust you with it more than I did the last girl.”

Cherry confessed that she loved him one night when she was drunk.

She threw up on his floor right afterwards.

She woke up the next morning laying in bed with him, hungover and totally confused.

She can’t even remember the events of that night, Dally claimed that he didn’t either.

He remembered though.

And he was relieved that she didn’t remember the part where he said I love you too.

[creativeashproductions]

What If...? V // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: 1995 was Sunset Curve’s big break in the music world with a successful future. Between 1995-2004 a handful of things happen: Playing the Orpheum, the band buying a house, a car accident, a reconciliation, an engagement, a wedding and children. All things that potentially may have not happened had the boys continued to eating sketchy hot dogs from a car.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, labour, minor angst and a bunch of fluff.

Words: 3.1k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog. The last part of your request 🥺😭

A/N: Wow. The last part in the What If…? Mini series is here. This was incredibly fun to write and while I wrote the last two parts I played a few covers and rewrites of Unsaid Emily. This is the first finished series. I’ll also let everyone know that there will be a part three for Lost Time.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hospital Maternity Room #284, 1999

“Have a child, they said. Pregnancy is a beautiful thing they said. I can confirm that asshole that said that had a dick.” You hissed from the hospital bed. A contraction contracting your midsection.

Nancy Y/L/N and Emily Patterson took up residence in the chairs on either side of Y/N Patterson in the afternoon of 1999. Nancy had been using the previous months making a scrapbook for the baby; the first bit with copies of photos from Luke and your baby stages. The rest would be the first year of your baby’s life.

“Would you like some ice chips?” Emily asked focused on knitting the baby hat for her impending grandchild.

Mitch and Lance each had made themselves scarce from the hospital in favour of working leaving the women alone.

“I’d like your son to be here to kick his ass.” Your eye twitched at the thought of your husband currently on an airplane. Sunset Curve had gone on a three-day interview marathon to the dislike of your friends and family.

Sunset Curve really needs to fire their manager with little respect for his charges’ lives. Especially the lead singer’s first child. Luke had no clue you had gone into labour.

 “Your father had words with Jerry for his meddling.” Nancy told her daughter glancing up at the strained smile through another contraction, “I’m sure Jerry thought the controversy of Luke not making the birth would be perfect for publicity.”

“I swear I will strangle Jerry if Luke isn’t here. I will pulverize the son of a bitch.” You hissed relaxing against the white sheets in the private suite. The mothers had been constants in the room while Rose, the pianist from the wedding, had visited briefly.

 Rose and the photographer Ray had hit it off so well they had entered a relationship that then blossomed a friendship with you. The couple had become dear friends in the last few months.

 “Okay Y/N, we’re gonna check your progress.” The doctor spoke swiftly tugging the disposable medical gloves on his hands. Two nurses worked with him. Your eyes pinned to the ceiling during the short examination.

“We’ve hit ten centimetres.” The doctor announced pushing the wheeled stool away to study your expressions, “Do you have your partner here?”

The tears built up as it settled that Luke might miss the birth of his first child when he had been so excited about it. He had bought and read more pregnancy books than you he had been talking with his father on how he could support you. He took classes with his mom on how to change a diaper, check the temperature of the bottle and methods for colic and diaper rashes.

Overwhelmed the feeling of two pairs of hands comforted you with the reminder that while Luke wasn’t there, you still had support. The baby would be born with both his grandmothers in the room. It was as best as it could be.

In a fast pace, you then found yourself with your legs in the stirrups with a stranger, albeit a doctor, staring at your vagina. It was uncomfortable, but it faded when the pain really began.

“Okay I want you to push from 1-10.” The doctor soothed, “Good job.”

“You’re doing so well, darling,” Nancy told you, leading Emily to open her mouth. Unfortunately, she didn’t get the chance.

 “I’m here!” Luke exclaimed rushing into the room, “Your dad was-“

Why was it unfortunate that Emily didn’t speak? Well, Luke unprepared caught sight of your exposed lower half. He promptly fainted with a thud to the floor.

“Are you serious?!” You yelled glaring at the puddle of your husband out cold with one of the nurses waving a package under his nose.

The smelling salt pack under Luke’s nose, bringing him back to consciousness, “Oh, boy. I fainted.”

“It happens more often than you would think.” The nurse told the young man while you focused on another push.

By the time the contraction ended, Luke had taken his mother’s place in holding your hand with encouraging words dripping off his tongue.

“This is the only child we’re having.” You hissed at the musician who continued to pale with a perfect view of the birthing in a reflection, “If you faint again I will…ARG”

A beautiful cry filled the room to the relief of baby Patterson’s parents bringing both of them to cry as well. Baby Patterson was scooped away to the corner of the room for a checkup and weight while the doctor inspected you. Time felt unreal as it passed quickly.

Baby Patterson was wiped clean as you delivered the placenta, got cleaned up with a sheet change and began to rest. Baby hairs plastered against your forehead you cooed at the swaddled form of your baby.

“So beautiful.” Luke whispered, unaware of his mother taking pictures with the lessons Ray had given her. The baby’s mouth opened with a gurgle that caused your heart to grow, “I’ll go let the boys know.”

Mesmerized by the baby, Luke made his way to the family waiting room on the maternity ward where it was packed. Opening the door, he counted Reggie, Bobby, Alex, Alex’s boyfriend Willie, your father Lance and Luke’s father. In the corner, Rose and Ray huddled together.

“Well?” Alex anxiously questioned picking at his cuticles, anxious for any news. His blue eyes begging his best friend for answers.

“Y/N is doing fine. The birth was smooth, and baby Patterson is healthy.” Luke proudly announced, placing his hands on the hem of his purple long sleeve shirt.

The room went silent before Mitch spoke, “So, do I have a granddaughter or a grandson?”

From the moment she was born, Stevie Eleanor Patterson had her father tied around her finger with her daddy’s matching hazel gaze. Lips like yours and a nose still unsure of but the nine-month-old was absolutely gorgeous with her short brown hair already curling. Of course, you could be biased as she was all yours.

Stevie wouldn’t settle without rock music of her father singing songs, but she did sleep through the night since day one. That didn’t mean she’d continue to sleep through the night, regression of sleep was tale your mother told about you as a baby.

“Hello sweet baby girl.” You whispered gently rocking the baby back to sleep mesmerized by the perfect combination of you and Luke, “So sleepy from feeding hmm?”

Stevie was heavy with the only complication being the minor tongue tie that was resolved increasing her feed. Stevie had such an appetite you had to compensate with formula to a degree, and you were sure the appetite was all Luke.

“Hey sweetheart.” Luke murmured from the door of Stevie’s bedroom wearing his Rush cutoff shirt and his staple black jeans.

The now twenty-year-old man had transitioned smoothly into fatherhood with the support of his best friends and family. Emily and Nancy had alternated staying in the guest room to help in the first month; the birth had been easy, but recovery had been at a near standstill.

“Hey!” You spoke as Stevie reacted to Luke’s voice, “I thought you said you would be late?”

Luke’s lips turned up at your words, “It looked that way, but Tom sent us home. God, I wish we had him from the first instead of Jerry.”

Both noses of the couple scrunched at the insensitive former manager that had both hit on you and insulted you when started showing with the pregnancy. The minute they could the band fired the man and found a saviour in Tom. Tom had left his previous employment with some magician with a name like Conner or something. The magician was narcissistic truthfully and had a slight obsession with the occult and death.

“Perfect. I need a shower.” You sighed shuffling Stevie into Luke’s warm embrace staring at the daddy-daughter duo.

“Have a bath. Relax babe. I got it.” Luke cooed, staring at his baby daughter’s bright gaze and dimpled smile.

Luke couldn’t believe how blessed he had been in falling in love with someone like you and receiving a gift. The gift being a father to the most beautiful angel in the world with the name Stevie.

“Love you!” You called over hastily make a flee for the master bathroom with the large tub before Stevie objected.

How lucky were you to have a husband like Luke?

Malibu, Patterson home, 2004

Luke, Reggie, Bobby and Alex, better known as Sunset Curve, had become legendary in the music world after their 1995 headliner debut at the Orpheum. In the nine years since the esteemed performance Sunset Curve had released two studio albums and toured four times. With the good times came the bad times as well.

Bobby Willis had decided he wanted to pursue a solo career creating a cavern between all four boys. He would change his name to Trevor Wilson at the suggestion of his label. He had little traction with his songs.

“Daddy!” Squealed, the three old little brunette girl ran through the modest-sized mansion to the man at the door, “I missed you!”

Luke, having memorized the routine, had already left his bag on the ground as his five-year-old daughter launched herself into his arms. Stevie had kept the hazel eyes with the chocolate coloured wavy hair. You could see yourself with her nose, chin, mouth and ears, but the rest is all Luke.

“Bug, you saw Daddy this morning.” You spoke, bringing Luke’s attention to the woman leaning against the wall. Luke’s heart fluttered, taking in the vision of his wife, who inspired so many songs.

Luke’s lips separated to reveal that perfect smile that stilled made your stomach flutter as it had since you were both fifteen. His hazel eyes glanced from your face to the one-year-old on your hip with his eyes closed. Little lips opened with quiet snores.

Hudson Jude was born in December of 2002 thankfully while Sunset Curve was on a break allowing Luke to be there. Hud was a near replica of you with the same eyes as his older sister and father. His infectious personality mimicking his uncle Reggie.

Mitch and Emily’s House May 2002

Last night had been incredible to Luke Patterson as Sunset Curve stood on the stadium stage as the sold-out crowd cheered as the song came to an end. ‘Now or Never’ had a special spot in the band’s hearts as they believed it had been the spark of interest from record execs back in ’95. Luke’s blue electric hung behind him as his best friends, his brothers, came to the edge with him. Grins splitting their faces the four boys grabbed hands and bowed to the audience.

“Thank you so much for coming out!” Luke’s voice reached every corner of the stadium drinking in the cheering and the signs in the crowd. And it felt like just yesterday they played the Orpheum before they hit it big.

The screams growing as Reggie’s winked in the direction of a group of girls, but Luke’s drifted to the VIP section. You stood with Stevie wearing the special headphones to protect her hearing. Her tiny hands clapping as her eyes wandered the large number of people.

The next morning, right now, he was in the living room with his parents, in-laws, his wife and daughter. So much had changed for the vocalist from fleeing this very house to returning to make amends. Now he watched his daughter playing with the toys Emily had found in the attic from Luke’s childhood.

“Hey I got you a gift.” You whispered to the man leaning against your legs on the floor. You sat seated on the couch while the other adults spoke.

“A gift? What for?” Luke questioned leaning to rest his head on your lap. His eyes found the little box you had hidden behind a pillow.

It was small and unassuming to the group in the living room. Luke’s fingers pulled the bow apart before the lid came off. Nestled in the velvet five guitars were. Taking one, Luke read the engraving.

“New Sunset Curve member: Coming December 2002.” Luke whispered blinking as he flipped it to see, “Daddy’s new music buddy.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, “The other ones are for the boys. The back has their names on it.”

 “We’re having another baby?” Luke softly asked, turning to face you completely. His eyes wonder-filled at the news, “Oh my gosh!”

“I know. I’m about two months pregnant at this point.” You murmured back cupping his cheeks with the stubble he hadn’t shaved yet. Tears filling both his and your eyes, “With how busy the tour was I lost track of my periods.”

“Oh my gosh. Can I tell them?” Luke pleaded on his knees, bringing the attention of both your parents. Stevie was still so enthralled by her toys she didn’t catch any words..

“Go ahead.” You smiled at the excited man. Facing the other side of the room, Luke nestled into your side on the couch..

Hand pressing on your flat tummy he grinned, “Stevie’s gonna be a big sister.”

Luke was so excited when his second child was born, he was thrilled at having a son; he would have been just as excited for a girl. He had a son and a daughter he loved with everything in him. He collaborated with Lance on a song for his own children just as Lance had.

“Hi Hud,” Luke spoke, stepping close to kiss his son’s sleeping head nestled in your neck, “How’s my gorgeous wife today.”

“Tired. Hud is breaking a new tooth, but Stevie’s been better today. She missed her uncle Alex.” You spoke, looking at your little girl.

 Stevie had become Alex’s shadow with the man even buying her a toy drumset for her fifth birthday. Alex and Willie had been away the past two weeks for a honeymoon; they legally couldn’t marry, but that didn’t stop them from having a dedication ceremony. The minute the law changed, you had no doubt Willie and Alex would find their way to a courthouse.

“We all miss Alex.” Luke sighed, “I hope he finds beach sand for the next year, there’s only so much I can take of Reggie. Bobby, Trevor came to the studio today. His sales have dropped, and his label dropped him.”

“He wants to come back?”

“To be fair he never really left the band. He went solo.” Luke admitted, “It’s hard to trust him after he took ‘Get Lost’ from us. At least he didn’t take ‘My Name is Luke’ from us.”

Your hand pushed up the hair hanging in his eyes below the orange beanie that had been a staple outfit piece for years now. Fronts pushed together, Luke kissed you for the first time today other than the quick peck as he left this morning. Hudson had a lousy sleep that left Luke staying up most the night with him.

“At the end of the day, it comes down to Reggie, Alex and you to make that decision. He’s never been a bad person, but maybe he felt like he wasn’t important. How many songs did he write?” You questioned your husband tentatively speaking to not spark his passionate anger.

You saw the annoyance in the crinkle of his nose and his eyebrows almost touching, but it didn’t take from the love in his eyes. With a sigh, he shifted Hudson to his embrace, tugging you to the spacious living room.

“If you look at it outside the band you have Stevie, Hudson and me. You have a family. Alex and Willie are connected at the hip. Reggie is with the band, volunteering at the kids centre, or with Ray.” It seemed it shifted something in Luke. His shoulders relaxed.

“The last few years have been pretty hectic.” Luke admitted watching as Stevie danced to the rock playing on the radio. Her little arms moving as if she was drumming.

Hudson shifted on Luke’s lap as you nestled into his side, watching the little loves you created with soft expressions. Stevie’s bright grin lighting up the room better than the natural light from the windows. The innocence she carried deep in her soul it felt like everything clicked into place.

“Daddy! Watch me!” Stevie giggled jumping as the song changed to Bittersweet by her grandfather Lance. The same song that played in the car accident back in ’96 that had a new meaning with having your own children.

It took a long time before Lance was able to pick up the guitar and perform; his lingering pain in his arm the cause. It took a few surgeries and physiotherapy along with relearning how to play before he performed Bittersweet. Lance performed for the first time live in your hospital room to his first grandchild.

“Whoo Stevie!” Reggie called from the front of the house. Behind him, Alex and Willie joined the same family.

“UNCLE ALEX!” Stevie shouted sprinting towards the tall blonde already crouching for the little girl.

The bond between Stevie and Alex was by far the cutest thing you had ever seen with how Stevie looked up at him. Alex would be the first to suggest tea parties and painting each other’s nails with newspaper for any spills. There wasn’t a better role model for Stevie to love. The bond was reminiscent of Uncle Jesse and Michelle from Full House.

“Ellie!” Alex shouted back swinging the little girl in his hug calling his unique nickname for her. He had taken to shortening her middle name; he really didn’t like when anyone else said it.

Peering over the pink sweater Stevie caught sight of Willie in the door, “Ready Uncle Alex?”

 At Alex’s confusion, Stevie wandered over to the skater smiling at the sight of his partner with the little girl. Willie’s brow furrowed as the girl came over to him uncharacteristically.

“Hi.” Stevie spoke, playing with her little fingers, “How was your trip, Uncle Willie?”

A small gasp from both Willie and Alex at the new title given that Stevie was shy with the skater. Stevie had been very excited for her uncle to come back from the honeymoon so she could surprise them.

“What?”

“You married Uncle Alex. That means you’re my uncle now too. Can I call you that?” Stevie’s brows furrowed concentrating on the man with tears in his eyes. The room was silent at Willie collected himself.

“I’d love that Squirt.” Willie choked out when her little arms wrapped around his shoulders, “Learn any new tricks on the drums?”

“Not really! But I lost a tooth!” Stevie excitedly spoke dancing on the balls of her little feet in the kid-sized black vans.

“Oh! Ray wanted me to pass on that he and Rose are pregnant! Baby is a girl due next year.” Reggie gasped, remembering the announcement from lunch at the Molina house, “Ray’s pretty sure they’ll name her Julie.”

The little Patterson girl eagerly informed her uncles on everything that had happened since the dedication ceremony with Willie and Alex. Even the twenty-four hours since she saw Uncle Reggie before breaking out into the dance moves from her dance classes. Hudson now toddling after his older sister with a smile on his little face.

A twist of expressions appeased on the members of Sunset Curve at the same time spoke together. All thinking of a distant vision of a Puerto Rican girl with a blurry face and gorgeous voice.

“Julie Molina? I feel like I know that name?”

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

@safehavenmuse @siennanoelle01 @whiterose291 @mell-bell @blackhood5sos @ficrecsideblog @ifilwtmfc @deadpoolgirl23 @crappy-unicorn @sunsetcurve-h @elioelioeli0 @lovesanimals @popcrone818 @lolychu @deepsleepnat @tenaciousperfectionunknown @aunicornmademedoit @just-a-writer-here @simp4reggie @merceret​ @faithiebrock01 @overlyhypedup @differentsoulrascalsalad @aesthetic-lyss @versaceapa @carleywhittaker @lostgirl219 @itsalexx21 @elllaoo4 @merxxleighann @mediocremunge @fantomlovesjuke4ever @dpaccione @oswin05 @kaylinfayezink @aberette13 @faithie-brock-gillespie01 @eharvey0218 @overlyhypedup @benstormy @auriandthepussicats @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @whothefuckstolemykeds @kcd15​ @siriuswvrld​ @princessvader15​ @xoxbloodreinaxox @heimdoodle​ @joshy-obx​ @lovesanimals​ @oopsiedoopsie23​ @am3l1a-24 @flying-solo-without-you​ @jaskiers-sweetkiss​ @lostrandomfangirl​n @must-be-a-weasley-92​ @jatp-holland​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @dxlanhxlland​ @dasexydevitt13​ @ifilwtmfc @arianagrandes-things @kinda-really-lost​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @ssprayberrythings​​ @morgandamrose @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @zukoshonourr​ @crybabyddl @spooky-season-bitch​ @kcd15​ @morganayennefertyrell @magnet-girl​ @all-in-fangirl​ @kinda-really-lost @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @badwolf00593​ @blowakissbabe​ @talksoprettyjjx @thesweetestsinner​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @writerinlearning​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @sageellsworth05​ @link-102​

[generalfoolish]

Feel The Heat

Part Four: Fragile Bird

Rating: 18+ (minors take a hike)

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, more past relationship stuff, meddling friends, general anxiety stuff

Word count: ~2.5k

Pairing: Frankie “Fish” Morales x OC Juniper Collins

Summary: June attends a Benny Miller Fight

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry for the delay! #MandoMay2021 has ruined my brain. Enjoy, anyway 💕

Masterlist | Part Three | Part Five

June was kicking herself the whole way to school. She felt so foolish. As fast as the fear and anxiety had set in, it had dissipated. She didn’t know what was true and what her mind was twisting to fit into the worst-case scenarios she had construed. It felt impossible to pick herself out of the rut of her mind.

But then, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Maybe she was spiraling for a reason. Her last relationship had imploded, and it was beyond messy. She was aware, better than most, that things weren’t always what they seemed.

June parked her car, and went inside. She was early. But, at least inside her classroom she could shut the door and really think things through. That shred of privacy was what she needed, June decided as she jogged to the main building. She entered the security code, but locked the door back behind her.

Once in her room, she dropped her bag on her desk and sat down heavily.

Time to tell yourself some hard truths, June:

Terry was your fiancé. He left you at the altar. And took your dog.

Terry had kept the honeymoon tickets and went on the trip with another girl.

And that girl was one of your bridesmaids, and supposedly, a good friend.

Terry had made some really sketchy moves behind your back and fucked you out of a lot of money and left you reliant on your family and friends.

It was years ago, and you aren’t over it. You hate Terry, but you have a big, gaping whole where your heart should be and it’s filled with sadness and hate.

But you really like Frankie.

You really, really like Frankie.

June swallowed hard, and pulled her phone out. She keyed open her texts and typed a long message out. Then deleted it. Then re-worded and re-typed. Then deleted it again.

A knock at the door broke the spell. Sam stuck her head in, and gave a pitiful smile.

“Hey, lady…” June nodded her into the room.

“Morning, Sam.”

“Sorry, about setting you up on such a bad date.” June’s facade slipped into a frown.

“How do you know it ended badly?” Sam’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Weeeeell, Santiago told me a few minutes ago.” June looked at her phone’s time and groaned. Frankie worked fast.

“It didn’t end the best. It’s my fault.”

“I want to make it up to you!”

“I can’t go out tonight.” She told Sam, already shaking her head. June was feeling a little more hungover than she normally liked on a Wednesday morning at seven a.m.

“Not tonight, silly. Friday night!” Sam perched on her desk, and beamed down. “I doubt you have plans then.” She added with a playful wink.

“I was going to grade.” June told her flatly.

“Great! You’ll come with us.”

“Us?” June asked, her tone skeptical.

“Yeah, it’s a fight? It’s one of Santi’s friends.” June knitted her eyebrows together in disbelief.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“Fish isn’t going.” Sam told her, like that solved every issue.

“It’s still very third-wheelish. Grading isn’t glamorous, but it beats going on a date with you and your boyfriend.” June told her with a laugh.

“It won’t just be us! Will and his wife, and Ben, but he’s fighting.”

“So...fifth wheeling?”

“Or, maybe you hit it off with Ben!” June gaped at her.

“You aren’t trying to set me up with another guy in this friend group are you?” The dust hadn’t even settled from last night.

“Oh no. He is hot though. Maybe just get you finally laid?” June scoffed.

“Santi tell you that too?”

“Ha! No, I just guessed. You don’t seem like the type to put out on the first date.” June flushed at the comment, trying to not remember what she had said to Frankie.

“I’ll think about coming.” June told her, after a beat of silence. Sam clapped, and made her way to the door.

“Junie, I am sorry it didn’t work out.” June nodded and smiled. Sam meant well, even if her presence had distracted June from her text. She only had a few minutes before kids would show up, and she wasn’t sure what to say.

Anything was better than nothing.

“I’m sorry. Hope you’ll let me explain.”

~~~

June adjusted her t-shirt when she got out of her car. She couldn’t believe that Sam had actually talked her into coming out. Especially, considering it was Frankie’s friends. Especially, since Frankie hadn’t said anything back to her text. She hesitated beside her car door, and settled on just leaving. Why had she even come at all?

“June! I’m glad you came!” Busted. June looked over to see Sam sliding out of a large pick up. Sam ran over and hugged her tightly. “Relax!” She told June’s tense shoulders.

“Hey!” A man called out from the other side of the truck. “That wasn’t even in park, lady.” That must be Santiago, June thought. Sam was right, he was attractive. Heat crept up June’s neck at some of the stories Sam had shared.

“You were stopped, Santi.” Sam told him, rolling her eyes. “This is June, June this is Santiago.” June smiled shyly, hoping beyond hope that she wasn’t about to get raked over hot coals for what happened with Frankie. Instead, Santi smiled warmly.

“Nice to put a lovely face to a lovely name.” He told her, a bright smile dancing on his lips. A charmer, for sure.

“You too. Sam speaks highly of you.” He laughed, a warm, chuckle.

“I’m sure it was too much. Will and Becka are already inside, if you guys want to head in.” Santi placed a hand on Sam’s lower back and led the entourage inside. To June’s surprise they headed straight for the locker room. Two men and a woman were standing in the room, talking in hushed tones when they walked in.

“Santi!” The younger man called out, he must have been the fighter, the only one in gym clothes. Ben, June thought, trying to recall his name.

“Benny! You remember Sam, of course!” Benny, or Ben, smiled brightly and nodded, before whisking her up in a hug. When his eyes landed on June, the smile faltered.

“I thought Fish was with the kids.” June turned, wide-eyed to Sam, who shook her head quickly. “Oh, well, June, right?” He recovered, extending his hand. June took his hand reluctantly, but cut her eyes to Sam all the same. What was this?

“Well, we’re going to find the seats, you boys can give him the pep talk alone.” The woman, who must have been Becka, announced.

“That was weird, huh?” Sam asked, laughing.

“Yeah, real weird.” Becka agreed, looping her arms through both Sam and June’s.

“What’s going on?” June asked, her throat feeling tight.

“Well, you’ve been bummed out about your date.” Sam started.

“And, Frankie has been inconsolable.” Becka finished.

“Is that right? He never responded to my text. I asked him to let me explain, he just didn’t give me a chance.” June kept her arm in place, but felt her heart beating faster. This had been a disaster. Why would she inject herself into a situation where she was surrounded by people who knew Frankie intimately.

The hall ended in the arena, and June slipped behind Becka and Sam. Whatever answers they had were held off because of the blaring music and loud chatter. June hadn’t really expected such a crowd. It seemed Benny was a popular fighter. Becka led the group to a roped off section near the ring, and dropped heavily into a chair.

“Will’s grabbing drinks. Beer, okay?” Becka asked, peeking around Sam to June.

“Yeah, a Corona or Modelo.” June answered. She’d have to remember to venmo money to Becka later. Or just make Sam cover her, for dragging her here in the first place.

“So, what’s going on?” June asked again, leaning in closely to Sam.

“Don’t get mad,” Sam started, smiling wolfishly. June squeezed her eyes shut. This was a setup. “It’s just so you can talk!” Sam added, defensively.

“This is a horrible place to talk.”

“You agreed to come. It was pretty obvious, right?” Becka added, laughing. June groaned, knowing well that Becka had a point. The whole night had felt staged, and yet, here she was anyway.

“I tried to talk to him.” June argued, ignoring Becka’s comment.

“Better in person, I guess.” A gruff voice sounded behind her. She turned quickly and tried to keep her composure. Frankie.

He looked good, she thought, her eyes grazing over him. Another flannel, another cap, but he was working them out. His scruff seemed fuller, and she wondered if he’d been sleeping well, the dark circles under his eyes told her probably not.

“That’s right!” Becka laughed, grabbing her drink.

~~~

It was a set up. Frankie saw her from far away, and his throat dried up immediately. She looked amazing, all tight jeans and t-shirt. That ponytail, he was in trouble.

He hadn’t done a great job of responding to her attempts to talk. To sort things out. He was still burned from the morning after nothing happened.

A phone call to Santi that morning had confirmed his suspicions. What had happened was weird. Santi took some time to dig up intel on her, and Frankie felt a little weird about it. Until, that was, he saw what she’d been through. He could understand her hesitancy. But what he couldn’t scrub from his mind was how she had looked on top of him, pupils blown wide with lust. How she’d sounded wrecked when she asked him to fuck her, fuck him out of her system, she’d said. He had spent a lot of time in the shower, and in the dark of his bedroom, thinking about that.

But, he still hadn’t answered her. He didn’t know how. He had felt like he had had a door slammed in his face, and was hesitant to knock again. There was no guarantee that she wouldn’t pull away again, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to be let in, and he wanted her.

When the boys asked him to a fight, he had agreed immediately. Becka called in the sitter, and it would be a good break from the hard work of the farm, he had told himself. It wasn’t until he was holding as many cups of beer as he could carry, and he was staring at June that he realized it was a setup.

He didn’t know if she knew, and it didn’t matter. If she was here, that meant something. What, he wasn’t sure yet, but definitely something. He felt his ears start to burn as he approached, and heard the conversation was on him. Him ignoring her.

“Better in person, I guess.” He said, attempting to offer an olive branch. June looked like she was about to pass out. She was as clueless as him. But, her eyes on him were more hungry than anything.

“That’s right!” Becka laughed, and grabbed a beer from him. He handed one to Sam, and offered one to June. She took it hesitantly, fingers brushing his against the wet cup.

“Outside?” He asked, glancing at the watch on his forearm. There was plenty of time until Benny fought, and he had a growing suspicion that she wasn’t actually all that into the idea of a fight. He led her outside, his hand hovering on her lower back. Partially, because he didn’t want to lose her in the crowd, but mostly because he wanted to be close to her. It was driving him crazy.

In the parking lot, she whirled on him. Her beer sloshed a little, but she didn’t seem to notice the drink on her fingers.

“I’m sorry for the morning, but why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, tone more hurt than the indignant she was going for. He gaped. He didn’t have an answer. Not the time to respond reactively, though. This was already a mess.

“I thought some time would help.” He told her quietly. He was way out of his depth. She paused, not having anticipated a level response from him.

“It might have.” She conceded. He wished he could read her mind. “I am sorry. You’re the first person I’ve felt anything more than passing attraction for since my ex. It was messy. I thought I was past it. Clearly, I’m not. I think that things happened quickly, and it freaked me out. And I thought about when we first met, and…” He grimaced, knowing what she was thinking. He hadn’t given her a great first impression. Or second, or third.

He realized, dumbly, that he had been thinking the worst of her, but she had seen the worst of him. He reached out, not thinking, and rubbed her cheek.

“I’m sorry. Let’s just take it slow. I don’t mind waiting, but I have to kiss you now. Is that okay?” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, and was vaguely aware that it made his voice raspy. It didn’t matter, all that mattered, was that June nodded. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her.

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 6

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

The team takes on trivia. Emily strips in front of JJ. It's quite an evening for all.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“Come on, Jayje,” Penelope whined. “It’ll be good for you to go out.” 

“I’m sick,” JJ said, fake coughing. “And I need to get a head start on my project for my new media course. It’s worth forty percent.”

“Bullshit.” Penelope said, “I know for a fact that that isn’t due for two weeks. Tonight is NOT the make or break point in that assignment for you.” 

JJ sighed. 

“You need to get out. See the world. Do more than just play soccer, work out and do homework. You’ve been hiding since your break up. It’s not healthy.”

She had told herself she would stop avoiding Emily after she had figured out what her feelings were. Despite JJ’s realization that it was a genuine crush, that JJ truly liked Emily, JJ needed to also be sure that she wasn’t simply rebounding onto someone nearby. 

Someone pretty and smart and kind and who lived right across the hall.

“It’s trivia night JJ,” Penelope said, “and we have Spencer on our team it’ll be fun.” 

JJ sighed, looked up from where she lay on her bed. 

“Fine.”

“Make yourself pretty, you know who will be there,” Penelope replied, turning back to her make-up mirror to finish applying her purple lipstick. 

“Yeah thanks for that,” JJ said sarcastically, “I saw what you did there.”

“Who, me?” she feigned innocence. 

JJ changed from a plain t-shirt to a tighter, low cut long sleeved blue shirt. She then took her hair out of a ponytail, brushing it out before tucking it carefully behind her ears. On principle, she huffed the entire time, so that Penelope would know that she wasn’t happy about the situation, despite the butterflies in her stomach at the idea of seeing Emily again. 

She took care to apply some eyeshadow, some blush and a pink lip gloss that tastes like strawberries. There was something intimidating about Emily. She looked so… put together. With Will, he never really noticed, or cared, if she wore makeup, but Emily definitely would. 

God. This was stressful. Is this what liking girls was like? If it was, JJ was not sure she was cut out for it. 

At least she was going to be on home territory, as trivia was their thing, something that Penelope and JJ had been doing since their floor was forced into going back in first year.  

JJ was working hard at learning to relax a bit. Between maintaining her grades, soccer, and her new job editing press releases for the student government, she was already being pulled in multiple directions. A night out would be fun, she reminded herself. 

She tried to quell her nerves at going out with Emily. It wasn’t a date or anything. Just friends hanging out. JJ’s friends and Emily’s friends. Penelope’s meddling was further tying her to the girl across the hall by blending their friend groups. 

While half of her mind wanted this to happen, wanted to see Emily all the time and have an excuse to see her, smell her, hear her laugh…. JJ frowned as she realized that her crush complicated everything. Emily was already across the hall, and if she admitted her feelings, and they weren’t reciprocated, she would run into her all the time. Now, with Derek Morgan befriending Penelope and Spencer, and all of them going out together, JJ’s silly crush could send ripples across more than just her own life. 

JJ ran her hands through her hair, worrying about the possible ways she could fuck this up. She did not entertain the possibility that Emily could possibly like her back. First of all, she had no idea if she was straight or not. JJ didn’t even know how to tell. 

JJ glanced over to Penelope, who was finishing up her makeup sitting at her desk, looking into a small mirror on the desk. JJ knew Penelope was queer, as her roommate was not shy about it whatsoever. In her mug full of pens was a pride flag from last year’s pride parade. It was in June, so JJ had been back in Pennsylvania then, but she remembered seeing the joy on Penelope’s face in the photos she posted on Instagram. Penelope wasn’t the person she knew that identified as queer. In fact, Spence had recently told them that he was bi. It wasn’t like JJ was not aware of the community, she thought she was just supporting LGBT+ issues on principal, and for her friends. 

She hadn’t considered that when, in her politics class in high school, she was viciously debating on gay marriage for someone like herself. The topics always felt distant. Like something that affected someone else. She was so certain in her heterosexuality that she had joked about it to Penelope earlier in their friendship. 

The token straight friend, she had said. So much for that. 

“Pen,” JJ said, trying to force a neutral tone to her voice, and failing. “How did you know you weren’t straight?”

Penelope turned and simply stared at her for a long moment before giggling and saying: “Are you finally realizing you have a crush on Emily Prentiss?” 

JJ sat up in her chair. 

“What?” 

“Aw darlin’,” Penelope said to her, tilting her head, ”You barely talked about your break up. You were too busy literally running from your feelings for her ever since you ran into her at the library. I had to finally ask her out for you.”

“I–” JJ stuttered. “I talked about my break up.”

“So to answer your question,” Penelope said, matter-of-factly, “I realized when I had my first crush on a girl, just like you’re doing now. Don’t worry about it too much, you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

JJ’s jaw had dropped. 

“Babe, you came home one night babbling about how she taught you French,” Penelope giggled, “You might as well have held up a sign.”

JJ buried her face in her hands. 

“Oh god,” JJ said. “Am I gay? What am I?”

Penelope walked over and tossed her arm around JJ’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug. 

“Aww baby’s first girl crush,” she cooed, “So happy to witness it first hand. You might be gay! Or bi, or something else. Don’t worry too much about the terminology right now.”

Unfortunately, JJ was worrying too much. About not just the terminology. 

Even if Emily was gay, or bi or whatever, she wouldn’t like someone like JJ. She was always a bit of a tomboy, barely knowing how to do make up and dressing like she was going to practise most days. JJ always felt a bit awkward when she dressed up, feeling most at home in joggers and a hoodie. 

Emily, on the other hand, was all elegant with her pretty black hair, her perfect eyeliner and the way she always looked out together when she went out. Moreover, Emily was cool. She listened to music on vinyl and her bookshelf was filled with classic novels and smoked cigarettes. She lived in multiple countries, spoke more languages than JJ hoped to ever learn.

Emily’s mom was an ambassador. She had a nanny growing up. She had a single room and was paying out-of-state tuition. Well, her mom was probably paying her tuition. 

JJ could only afford to be here because she was on a soccer scholarship, and barely had enough money to cover her caffeine addiction. The surprise small stipend from her new student government job was probably the thing keeping JJ from applying for a job off campus. 

Emily would never like someone like JJ, she thought. 

After checking herself in the mirror one final time, she looked at the time. 6:54. Emily and her friends would be there soon, and if JJ knew Spencer well, he would be showing up in just under a minute. 

There was a knock at the door. She was right. 

“Hi guys!” He said, entering their dorm room and taking his customary seat on the very edge of JJ’s bed. “Am I dressed properly? I wasn’t sure what to wear to a bar.”

He was wearing a button up, with a beige sweater vest over top, with slacks and converse to complete the outfit. 

“Aw Spence,” JJ said. “You look great, I promise.”

“Remind me to take you to the mall to get some party clothes,” Penelope quipped. 

“Those were two contradicting statements,” he complained. 

Once Penelope had finished adding rhinestones to her makeup look, they opened the door to find Emily flanked by two boys, waiting in the hall. 

Derek Morgan, JJ recognized, but the other one JJ hadn’t met before. 

“Hello all!” Penelope called out from inside their room. 

“Hi Derek, Emily,” JJ said politely, “I’m not sure we’ve met–“

She reached her hand out to shake the new boy’s hand. He was tall, with a shock of black hair and a serious expression on his face. 

“I’m Jennifer, but my friends call me JJ.”

“Nice to meet you,” the boy said with a small—almost non-existent—smile, shaking her hand with a firm, confident grip. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

“His friends call him Hotch,” Derek piped up punching his shoulder in a friendly way. 

“He’s pre-law,” Emily informed her, “we have a bunch of classes together.”

“I do not have that much experience with trivia,” Aaron admits, rubbing his shoulder and feigning injury. 

“No need!” Penelope says, rounding up on the group, “Spencer here is basically a genius. You’re just a warm body.”

“I just have an eidetic memory!” He said, piping up from in the room. 

With introductions complete, they headed to the small pub just off campus. It was a squat brick building tucked between a restaurant and an old book store. It had a nice back patio in the warmer months, and each Monday was trivia night. 

Just inside, the bouncer drew big xs on their hands to indicate that they were underage, which were all promptly wiped off once they were inside and found a table. The atmosphere inside was relaxed, the staff not really caring if people were drinking underage on a Monday night if they didn’t cause trouble.

JJ loved this bar. It was old, with exposed brick walls and large wooden rafters over their heads. The ceilings were low and the bar was packed and loud, making the place feel cozy, yet not quite claustrophobic. On weekdays, it was mostly locals or upper year students, as their peers were more likely to try to drink underage on the weekends. The crowd was quite a few younger adults, with the occasional older couple or group of middle aged women having a girls night. 

They found a table big enough for their group by just to the right of the bar, tucked out of sight, far from the bouncers. The six of them squeezing tight onto the rustic booth and shrugging off their coats.  

Trivia started at 7:30 pm, so they still had time to get settled and acquire some drinks. JJ was squished between Penelope and Emily’s friend Aaron, who was explaining that he played forward on the men’s hockey team. JJ knew he seemed familiar, realizing that she and he had probably crossed paths at athletics functions. 

“Did you guys rub the marker off your hand?” Spencer asked, too loudly, receiving a chorus of shushing in response.

“Dude,” Derek laughed, “Not so loud you’re gonna get us kicked out!”

“What do you mean?” He asked, the classic Reid obliviousness shining through. 

Emily tossed a casual arm around his shoulders. 

“You see,” she said, “we would like to drink this thing called alcohol tonight. If we have an x on our hands, we don’t get served.”

She pointed to the x on his hand. 

“Speaking of which,” Aaron said, standing up, “I’m grabbing a beer, who’s with me?” 

“Me!” Emily jumped up, with Derek on her heels, “What are you guys drinking? This rounds on me!”

JJ balked, drinks here were expensive. Did Emily actually want to buy them drinks? Or was she simply being nice. JJ should say no. 

“Vodka cran, por favour!” Penelope responded before JJ could politely decline. “JJ drinks beer, and Reid will take a soda.”

“What kind of beer?”

“Whatever’s on tap,” JJ said sheepishly, feeling guilty about someone spending money on her. At the same time, with JJ’s baby face, there was little chance the bartender would buy that she was already 21.

“Root beer please!” Spencer called out after her, though Emily had already turned around, following the boys over to lean against the bar. 

The bartender, a gorgeous young woman with shoulder length brown hair was serving Emily, leaning over the bar. Her eyes were rapt with attention as Emily ordered, even giving her a once over before she left to make their drinks. 

Emily seemed to flirt back, but JJ could not hear what she said, the two women going back and forth for a few moments, their attention hardly broken by the other patrons. 

JJ felt jealousy flare in her stomach. 

As Emily’s fingers grasped the glass, the other girl’s hands lingered, and JJ watched the bartender wink at Emily before turning towards the other patrons. Emily had a cropped tank top, with a plaid shirt on top. Her tight jeans gripped her long legs, and her heeled boots gave an extra inch or so to her already impressive height. She looked hot. The bartender clearly saw it too.

She tried to push back that jealousy. She had no right to be possessive, Emily and she weren’t dating, or anything, they were friends. New friends.   

“Your girlfriend is so good to us!” Penelope cooed, breaking JJ out of her thoughts. 

JJ felt a blush spread across her face. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” she sputtered. 

“Have you told her you like her yet?” Spencer asked. 

“Guys,” JJ exclaimed, “this is not the time. She’s right there.”

“She has not,” Penelope replied. “Even though it’s so obvious that Emily likes her back.”

“Pen!” JJ said as she buried her face in her hands. 

“Spencer you wouldn’t believe it!” she continued, unheeded, “Emily brought her cookies to the game!”

“She was just being nice!” JJ said, peeking out from between her fingers. 

“She didn’t give me any cookies,” Spencer pointed out. “And we spent almost three hours in class together.”

As he said that, Derek, Aaron and Emily returned with not only alcohol, but also nachos and fries for the table. JJ, too polite to protest when being offered food, and who had the appetite of an athlete, dug in. She took a guilty sip of her beer, and felt Emily’s eyes on her. 

Did Emily like her back? That couldn’t be true. JJ was just… Jennifer. JJ. No one special. Not like Emily. JJ decided not to linger on that thought, it wasn’t like JJ would risk their friendship by admitting she had feelings anyways. 

“You know,” Spencer said between mouthfuls, “I’ve never done trivia before, but I’ve been told I’d be good at it.

“No shit, kid,” Derek replied, talking through a mouthful of nachos, “You talk like a textbook.”

Spencer looked like he was unsure whether or not to take that as a compliment. 

“What are the topics?” Emily asked. 

“They don’t tell you until you get here,” Penelope replied, “Someone should be by with papers and pencils. 

As if summoned, a tall girl with short black hair came by, dropping off a pencil and a paper, split into four quadrants with ten blanks on each page. 

“Who wants to write?” JJ asked, looking around the table. 

Hotch was busy scanning the page for the topics: science, television, sports and music, and he didn’t realize the activity going on around him. Everyone, including Reid somehow, (Derek helped him) had stuck their finger to the tip of their nose, the official sign for ‘not it.’

He looked up, seeing the fingers and without comment he grabed the pencil.

“It’s for the best,” Emily said, “My handwriting is illegible.”

“Can vouch for that,” Derek laughed, “It’s like half cursive half something inhuman.”

Emily punched his shoulder and took another drink. 

“So how does this normally work?” Hotch asked, gesturing towards her paper with the pencil.

“Question, two minutes to write down your answer, no phones,” Penelope replied, “Then we swap with a nearby team to mark it! And so on for four rounds.”

“There’s prizes,” JJ added. “Whoever gets the most right in the end wins, we hand in the sheets to the MC to enter.”

“Sweet,” Derek said. 

“We need a name,” JJ said, looking up. 

“The twinkies,” Emily blurted. 

“The… twinkies?” Hotch repeated, incredulously. 

“I don’t know,” Emily muttered, “I panicked.”

The group burst into laughter, which Emily laughed along with. She was a good sport. 

“Let’s get Quizzical,” Penelope offered. 

“I don’t get it,” Spencer said. 

“Quiz me, daddy,” Penelope tried again, winking at Derek. 

“Settle down now, little lady,” Derek said, laughing. 

“We’re not doing that,” JJ laughed. 

She wasn’t sure who looked more horrified at the idea, Spencer or Hotch. 

“Counter intelligence,” Derek proposed instead, it has a nice ring to it and works with the trivia premise. 

“That’s funny,” Penelope said. “And seems ok for the prudish ones amongst us.”

Hotch wrote that down on their page. 

“Hello everyone,” the MC said through a microphone as the music quieted, a hush fell over the bar, with everyone listening to the women speak. “My name is Tara and I’ll be your MC tonight.”

Tara was beautiful, with curled hair tucked behind her ears and a friendly smile, she was tall, wearing high heels making her stand tall over the seated audience. JJ thought she might be a student, as she looked a bit familiar. 

“Hi Tara!” Someone yelled out from the other side of the bar. 

Tara chucked, “Hello Dave. Welcome all to Trivia Night at O’Keefe’s, we have brand-new questions and prizes for you. Are you excited?”

The audience whooped, Hotch pulled the paper close to him and readied his writing hand, taking a quick swig of his beer to prepare himself. 

“We’re going to start off with some science questions,” the MC said.

The group looked expectantly at Spencer, who looked slightly nervous. 

“First question,” Tara announced, “We’ll start by looking outside of our planet, at the others in our solar system. Scientists have long been able to calculate the masses of most planets, including Earth. It has taken longer to measure the masses of Venus and Mercury, primarily because these two planets lack what?”

“Moons, obviously,” Spencer said, too loudly. Other groups clearly overheard, writing the answer down on their cards.

“Reid,” Penelope scolded, “You’re on our team. Whisper please.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, taking a sip of his soda through a small straw. 

“Question two: of what material is a rhinoceros horn made?”

“Bone?” Derek whispered to them, “They look boney.”

“That’s actually a common misconception,” Reid replied, “They’re actually composed of keratin, which is essentially hair.”

“Huh,” Derek tilted his beer in acknowledgement. Hotch wrote that down. 

“How many hearts do octopuses have?”

“Three!” Emily hisses, before Spencer has the chance.

“Nice one,” Hotch murmured back to her.

“I like cephalopods,” Emily said, as explanation. 

JJ desperately wanted to comment on that, but the game moved too quickly. 

The next few questions were rapid fire, covering everything from the speed of a sneeze, to the surface area of the lungs, to the oxygen in the atmosphere, to which letters from the alphabet were missing from the periodic table (the answer was J and Q.)

JJ perked up when she heard the last question: “What are people who study or collect butterflies called?”

“Lepidopterists!” She said, triumphantly before the MC even listed the options.

Everyone looked at her, surprised about her beating even Reid to the punch.

“I- uh,” JJ stammered, “I collected butterflies as a kid.”

JJ caught Emily smiling at that. She looked away, embarrassed. 

Next was music, which, between Hotch and his impressive understanding of dad rock and Penelope’s encyclopedic knowledge of current pop music, and Derek’s well-rounded passion for all genres, they did fine. Reid pouted, as his eidetic memory doesn’t quite work for things he hasn’t read. 

JJ, unfortunately, was not any help. JJ liked music, but she did not bother memorizing facts about writers or sampling or anything like that. She just liked listening to it. 

After that was sports, and that topic went by quickly with JJ, Derek and Hotch answering the questions with a high degree of confidence. 

Hotch, who was already writing aggressively and getting into it, wrote more and more excitedly, and on the second to last sports question—about the composition of a baseball—he snapped the lead off the pencil right off. 

This caused sheer chaos. 

With no writing utensil, one more answer to write down, they scrambled. JJ shrugged helplessly, typically known as the mom friend in her group, she felt bad that she had nothing to offer. After a moment, Penelope discovered a fluffy pink gel pen she found at the bottom of her purse. 

“Is the ink pink, too?” Hotch asked, raising an eyebrow. 

He tried writing. The ink was pink and sparkly. 

“Yes, sir,” Penelope replied. 

“Did you just call me ‘sir’?”

“I don’t know what came over me.”

During the brief intermission between Sports and Television, somehow the Salem witch trials came up in conversation. (It was actually because Penelope had mentioned the Blair Witch Project and Spencer misheard, but that’s neither here nor there). 

“She was four?” JJ demanded, “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Oh I read about this,” Penelope said, “Dorothy something, she was accused of witchcraft alongside her mother.”

“Dorothy Good, also referred to as Dorcas Good, was only four years old when she was arrested in 1692. According to her accusers, she had allegedly bitten them on their arms. She was actually placed in jail and interrogated by Salem officials where they took the fact that she had a pet snake as proof that she was a witch, as the snake would serve the role of her animal familiar.”

“She was a child,” JJ said, horrified.

“Yup,” Spencer replied, unfazed. JJ frowned but continued writing. 

The last one was television, which was very clearly Penelope’s favourite. 

“Friends ended in May 2004 after how many seasons?”

“Oh I know that one,” Hotch said, “Seven.”

Hotch wrote that down in pink ink, the fuzzy pom-pom danced as he wrote.  

“Amy Poehler, Rob Lowe and Chris Pratt worked together on which US comedy series?”

“Parks and Rec,” Penelope said, “Parks and Recreation, God, I should rewatch that. Such amazing girl-power vibes in that one.”

“What were the names of the two government agents played by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson in the 1993-2002 series X-Files?”

“Special Agent Fox Mulder and Dr. Dana Scully,” Emily said with a smile. 

“Wait, you too Prentiss?” Derek said. “Nerding out with Reid tonight.”

“Guilty as charged,” Emily said, “What can I say, I’m a sucker for Gillian Anderson.”

JJ’s mind stuck on that comment. Was she simply a fan of the acting? Or was she implying some sort of attraction to the actress. JJ did not ask. Her mind was wandering for too long, all while looking at Emily, that she missed the next question. 

Whatever it was, Hotch was informing her that the answer was ‘72 survivors’. 

Questions about Saturday Night Live, The Office, Scooby-Doo and a few old-timey shows that they didn’t recognize followed. 

“The last question for the night!” Tara announced, “It’s been lovely being your MC for tonight. I hope you all had as much fun as I did. You ready?”

The crowd cheered.

“Ok this one’s for all the nerds out there: what sci-fi series premiered in 1966?”

“Star Trek: The Original Series,” Reid hissed, struggling to keep his voice down. “Which was the beginning of a franchise that has now lasted over fifty years, spanning nine television series, thirteen films and assorted shorts, video games and novels.”

“Ok Mr. Spock,” Emily laughed, “Thank you for your brain.”

“Spock’s Brain is actually one of the best episodes in the Original Series,” he replied, JJ couldn’t tell if he had made a joke or was simply spouting another fact. 

As trivia wrapped up, and the scores were being tallied, the bar roared back to life, with music booming and the attendees milling about near the bar, back at the darts and grouping around the tables.

She found herself chatting with Hotch and Penelope, about some question they were unsure about, but her eyes were fixed on Emily and Derek. Derek had a hand in the small of Emily’s back, guiding her past the crowd near the bar. 

JJ wondered if there was really something more there, despite Penelope’s encouragement of her crush on Emily. Maybe she was already into Derek? He was very affectionate with all of his friends, especially Penelope, so maybe it was nothing. But still, Emily seemed to be reciprocating. 

But the hand didn’t leave, it held her close, almost protectively, something a boyfriend would do. 

JJ turned away, pushing the thoughts away and slamming the last of her third beer, scanning for where Spencer had run off to after the game wrapped up. He was seated with two other people at a table near the back, talking excitedly at them while they looked at him with rapt attention. Out of curiosity, she wandered over.

Maybe she can hang out with Spence as she banished the strange feelings of jealousy burning in her chest.  

“Return to tomorrow?” the girl asked Spencer, leaning over the table in excitement.  

“Return to tomorrow, season two, production number fifty-one,” Reid replied, “An alien named Sargon takes over Kirk’s body while two others take over Spock and Dr. Mulhall.”

JJ frowned, she had no idea what he was talking about, but recognized that it seemed like the plot of an episode of Star Trek.

“Alien races appearing?”

“Trick question, a race is never identified. Sargon is a disembodied mind?”

“Dr. McCoy quote?”

He looked stumped for a moment. 

“Five, four, three, two-”

“I will not peddle flesh, I’m a physician!” He concludes enthusiastically. 

This all appeared to be an extension of his trivia game. JJ was happy that he was making friends, despite him worrying that he wouldn’t fit in at a bar, he seemed to have found his people. 

JJ gave him an affectionate pat on his shoulder before passing, on her way to the dart board. With Reid occupied, Derek and Emily flirting at the bar and Hotch and Penelope hitting it off, JJ decided to show some random boys up.

It would make her feel better.

There was a pair already at the board, tossing the darts fairly inaccurately. JJ asked if she could join, batting her eyelashes in a way she knew would grab their attention quickly. 

They immediately welcomed her in, handing her some darts. She hit the nineteen, twenty and dead centre in quick succession. The rush of the game kept away her earlier feelings of jealousy, centering her in the moment and her goal.

The boys were floored. JJ was good at darts. 

She played three rounds, slamming them each time easily. Amateurs. They were drunk, aggressive with their throwing, all force no finesse. Typical men.

After the third round, they left for the bar, offering to grab her a drink to celebrate her win, she followed close by, knowing better than to leave a drink unattended, but also not passing up the opportunity to drink for free when it was a silly boy paying. 

Maybe she should rebound after her break up and sleep with a random man. She looked at the man in front of her, he was tall, with dark hair and hazel eyes, wearing a tight fitting white shirt. His companion had sandy brown hair and dark eyes, but neither of them were stirring anything in JJ’s heart. Both were objectively attractive, but neither were the beautiful brunette that lived across the hall. 

JJ accepted her drink graciously, knowing she had to fill another few minutes of small talk before it was appropriate for her to rejoin her friends. 

The one boy was telling her about darts, in detail, despite the fact that she had informed him that she did know how to play, and had just beat him at the game. 

“Can I steal JJ from you guys for a sec?” She felt a hand on her bicep and Emily’s sweet voice in her ear.

JJ turned and the taller girl was next to her, her hand resting lightly on her bare arm, feeling electricity where their skin touched. 

“Uh, yeah,” the brown haired boy said, JJ didn’t remember his name, “Of course.”

JJ smiled apologetically before allowing herself to be led away.

“Thought you could use an out,” Emily whispered in her ear, “You looked bored.”

“Thank you,” JJ replied. “I was.”

They stopped further down the bar, standing close, with Emily looking down at her, their hips brushing each other. JJ could smell her perfume over the ambient smell of alcohol, bar food and the old building. 

“Men,” Emily laughed, “Am I right?”

They laughed. JJ wasn’t sure exactly what she meant but she thought she got the gist. JJ gulped down a sip of her drink, a vodka soda that the boy had chosen for her. 

“Speaking of, are you and Derek, uh,” JJ asked, nervously, “A thing?”

Emily’s eyes widened, and her lips tugged into a smile, she began to laugh. 

“Derek Morgan?” She guffawed, “Absolutely not, that boy is like my brother. Oh my god, JJ you thought we were together?”

JJ felt herself sigh a breath of relief, hoping that it was not visible on her face.

“I just saw how he was at the bar,” JJ explained, “I just assumed.”

“Oh that,” Emily smiled, “I asked him to basically pretend to be my boyfriend, a beard if you will. Keeps guys hands from wandering.”

JJ frowned, that she could empathize with. 

“But no, we’re very much just friends.”

JJ looked over to their table: Derek, Hotch and Penelope were currently playing a game that seemed to consist of tossing coins into Reid’s empty soda can. 

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, both girls listened to the music, standing closely, closer than they needed to. 

Emily ordered them another round, and by that point JJ had given up protesting, realizing that this is just what Emily did. 

Grabbing their drinks, Emily handed JJ’s to her. They smiled and raised their glasses in cheers. 

“To new and old friends,” Emily said, “and to us winning at trivia!”

“I can drink to that!” 

Both accidentally raised their arms too enthusiastically, their glasses crashed together. Emily’s grip slipped and the glass went tumbling out of her hand, right onto JJ. She was suddenly damp and sticky, the liquid soaking through JJ’s thin shirt. 

“Oh my god,” Emily gasped, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Shit,” JJ gasped, putting her own drink down onto the bar and stepping back. “It’s ok, it was both of our faults.” 

“Let’s get you to the bathroom,” Emily said, with a hand pressed to the small of her back, leading her away from the bar. As an afterthought, Emily grabbed JJ’s drink and carried it with them.

A few people gave her concerned glances, one patron offering her a small napkin that did basically nothing. JJ wasn’t mad, it was fully an accident, but now she was just desperate to dry off. 

Now, JJ was acutely aware of Emily’s hand on her lower back. Warm and firm, it guided her into the bathroom. 

As soon as the door shut, the silence made JJ’s ears ring. Emily had turned to the paper towel dispenser, yanking probably four feet of it off and bunching it up before handing it to JJ.

It was a small bathroom basically just the room, one sink and no hand dryer, much to JJ’s sadness.

JJ hoisted herself up onto the counter, taking the paper towel from Emily, patting her shirt hopelessly. The alcohol soaking into the cotton and leaving the shirt a noticeably darker blue. JJ sighed. 

“I’m such a klutz,” Emily said apologetically. “My mom always was on my case for it.”

“It’s not your fault, Em,” JJ said, “it was an accident.”

Emily grabbed more paper towels, moving closer and helping her, patting on the shirt, over her stomach. 

JJ held her breath, realizing that Emily was so close. JJ could look up, see Emily’s face, looking concentrated, with her perfect red lips right there. Her strong hands were carefully dabbing at her shirt, fussing over JJ in a way that made her heart skip a beat. Emily’s collarbones led down to her chest, visible with her low cut chest. JJ felt herself blush, looking up to the ceiling, feeling embarrassed at these thoughts. 

JJ’s top hadn’t changed much, besides it feeling a bit less damp, it still showed the liquid clear as day. 

“This is doing just about nothing,” JJ sighed, clearing her throat. “Maybe I should just go home. It’s getting late anyways.”

“Nonsense,” Emily said. “You can wear this.”

JJ’s jaw dropped as Emily shrugged her plaid shirt off her shoulders, revealing her tank top underneath and handed it to her. JJ took it, dumbly, closing her mouth but saying nothing. 

Emily turned around, clicking the lock on the door, and leaning her shoulder against it, just in case. She took a sip out of JJ’s glass, casually, as if JJ was not about to take her shirt off behind her. 

Emily’s back was to her, but JJ sat, frozen, holding this new shirt in her hand. JJ pulled her wet shirt off, very aware of being naked in front of Emily. Well, shirtless, with her white bra visible, but still feeling incredibly naked. 

She quickly buttoned up the plaid shirt, it was oversized and a warm grey with hints of green and navy, feeling very incredibly soft. 

Warm and dry, JJ felt the shirt envelop her in what felt like a hug. A hug from Emily. 

JJ hopped off the counter and smoothed out her new shirt, Emily’s shirt. JJ folded up her wet shirt and held it in her left hand. The other girl turned and looked JJ up and down, with an unreadable expression on her face. 

“You look good,” Emily commented. 

“Thank you,” JJ managed. 

They stared at each other, for a moment, the room filling with a tension that made her shiver. The music thumped from the other room, but JJ’s heartbeat was deafening. She had accidentally stripped a layer off of Emily, and desperately wanted to take more off of her. Emily’s black tank was riding up, revealing a small strip of her stomach above her high waisted jeans. Emily’s face was flushed from the alcohol, her pale skin becoming pink on her cheeks and nose. JJ thought back to that morning when she had caught Emily in her PJs, of what she knew was under her shirt. This too hugged her curves, revealing hints about what lay beneath. 

“We better get back,” JJ found herself whispering. 

The bathroom was small, so the two of them were packed together in the tiny space. Emily suddenly leaned forward, closing the distance between them, reaching her hands out towards JJ. 

JJ’s heart raced, unsure what to expect. Was Emily going to kiss her? No. Why would she? Oh my god what if she was? 

Emily’s hand carefully fixed her collar, tugging on it slightly. 

“There,” Emily whispered, “you’re perfect.”  

JJ closed her eyes at the feeling of Emily’s hands on her. Sighing slightly. 

She chastised herself for being silly. Emily was just fixing her collar. Being a good friend. 

“Let’s get back,” JJ said. 

“If we have to,” Emily replied. JJ tried not to read into that too much.  

They returned to their table, squeezing back in tightly with their overcrowded group of friends. They were in a heated debate about the Zodiac killer. Neither girl knew how the conversation got there, but Emily immediately joined the conversation. 

After a few minutes, and after quite a few sly looks from Penelope, the MC tapped on the mic, gaining the audience's attention. 

“We officially have a winner!” Tara announced, “With 36 points, it’s Counter Intelligence!”

Their table erupted in cheers. They had won! There were a flurry of high fives, hugs and fist bumps in their celebration. 

Tara, the MC came over to their table to congratulate them. She told them that they had beat out the second place by one point. 

“Impressive work everyone,” Tara said, “that’s close to a high score, and these were hard questions.”

“We have a great team,” Penelope said with a grin. 

“I can tell,” Tara replied. “Are you all going to come back next week? It’s Halloween themed!”

They looked at each other, then nodded at her. It was a plan. 

“See you then!” Tara said. 

She gave them their prizes, which were mugs with the bars logo printed in white on the green mugs. She would treasure it. 

JJ finds herself yawning, catching the eye of Emily, who said: “we better get JJ to bed, looks like she’s fading.”

Please, JJ thought sleepily, resting her drunk head on her hand, take me to bed.

Sitting down, JJ’s five or so drinks had hit her hard, and she dreaded standing up and risking stumbling. She was drunk. JJ wasn’t a light weight, but over their time at the bar, she had gotten quite a bit of alcohol into her system. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” JJ could feel Penelope grab her arm and hoist her up. JJ leaned on her, feeling a warm affection for her friend in the moment. 

Together, they walked home in the cold night air. Laughing, chatting and walking together amicably, all holding their prizes in hand. JJ leaned into Penelope’s side, feeling warm despite the chill of the air. Something felt incredibly right about that moment, those people. 

She didn’t want it to end. 

They went their separate ways from Hotch once they got to campus, bidding him farewell, not before Penelope added him to a group chat titled “The Team 🕺” in reference to their trivia playing. Hotch promised he’d join them all again next week. 

Once they climbed the stairs to their floor, Reid continued up to his room and the four of them found themselves trying to quietly return to their rooms without getting caught by the RA. 

Despite being served for the entire night, if they got caught drinking underage they would get in a lot of shit, especially Derek and JJ on their athletic scholarships. 

Muffled whispers and giggling filled the air as they walked through the common room.

Derek hugged them all goodbye—he seemed to be a hugger JJ surmised—and went to his room down the hall. 

“Oh!” JJ said, spinning to face Emily in the hall. Penelope had already entered their dorm, with the door closing behind her. “I can give your shirt back tomorrow! I can… er… wash it for you. It probably smells like beer now.”

Emily gazed at her, from over her shoulder as she unlocked her door, looking JJ up and down.

“Keep it,” she said. “It looks good on you.”

JJ would swear she saw Emily wink at her, but couldn’t be sure. 

Emily disappeared into her dorm room, and JJ went into hers. 

She slept with the shirt folded neatly next to her pillow, the smell of Emily’s perfume filling her senses as she dreamt. 

[valwrite]

hide & seek; daveed diggs

masterlist

summary: Y/N L/N can´t keep a promise. (sequel to leap frog & hopscotch)

warnings: cushion violence.

fic style: drabble.

word count: 1807

author’s note: this is the third and final drabble from the leap frog series. sorry that it’s kind of short and not really as good as the other two, i’ve got a bit of writer’s block right now. like, i have tons of ideas of what i would like to write but, when i try to write, my brain forgets the whole english dictionary and is just like “qué?”.

It was official. Rafael Casal was going to kill Daveed Diggs and Y/N L/N.

The sun had barely risen an hour ago; the air was still crisp with the chill of the night; some people were just making their way home, exhaustion and last night's makeup painting their face, and there Rafa was stood, phone pressed to his ear whilst his fist banged against the oak door repeatedly. He'd spent fifteen minutes in the very same predicament, alternating between calling Daveed and Y/N. Neither of the two were picking up despite the fact he was sure he could hear their phones ringing from indoors.

It was typical, honestly, for the two to pull such a stunt on him. The poor man was juggling having to worry about his friends whereabouts and his own health, which was progressively slipping away from him as his stress levels grew from having both their close relatives breathing down the back of his neck and questioning him on where exactly the two could have disappeared to.

When they both had first agreed to spending the night apart, Rafa was quick to laugh in their faces and tell them they'd find themselves crawling back to the other by the end of the night. Hell, the two barely survived nights apart brought on by work- Rafa had once walked in to Daveed's hotel room and found him asleep whilst Y/N slept on his propped up phone screen, nothing but FaceTime to unite them during their time apart- so how in the name of Hell would they willingly choose to sleep without one another? The satisfaction of his impending "I told you so" was the only thing keeping Rafa going.

“Screw this." He muttered, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Crouching, Rafa picked up a few of the plant pots that decorated the front porch until he found the hidden key.

Quietly, and carefully, he turned the key in the lock. When the door opened, he pushed through slowly and held his breath, awaiting for it to squeak. A squeak never came, meaning two things: Daveed must have fixed the door and Rafa was safe to continue venturing into the home. Of course, he had to continue with the slowed movements and the careful breathing. The last thing he needed was to wake up the couple's four legged friend, that would only lead to an influx of tail wagging and puppy kisses being branded all over him. No, Rafa had to treat this like the most serious game of hide and seek he'd ever taken part in, on the off chance that Daveed was actually alone. The man was never a morning person, so being the person to wake him up, whether by accident or on purpose, was practically a suicide mission. Add that in with a reminder of the fact he'd (possibly) slept alone, Daveed was not going to be a happy bunny.

Rafa made his way through the living room where his eyes couldn't help but focus on the picture frames scattered along their television unit. They held so many stories, most of which he'd been present for and some he'd just been told about by the couple.

There was the cheesy one of them under some mistletoe on their first Christmas together, where Daveed had accidentally tripped over his own two feet and landed chest first into the cake she'd spent the whole day baking. There was the picture from a Warriors match they'd gone to, where Y/N spent most the night near drooling over the players and Daveed had silently prayed he still had a girlfriend by the end of the game. A candid photo of the both of them at some music festival, arms around each other and heads resting on shoulders. A collage section, filled with each cringe worthy matching Halloween costumes they'd worn. A picture of Daveed in a hospital bed, cast around his arm and Y/N sat at his side, their hairs still tousled from the kiss Rafa had walked in on before capturing the moment in a photo. At the time, they'd told him to delete it but the man was adamant they'd thank him one day when they were getting married and they realized that, without his meddling, the two of them would have never ended up on that date, in that hospital room.

With one of those things nearly down, Rafa was just counting down the hours till they came to the epiphany of his involvement in their love blossoming.

As he made his way out of the living room, the sound of a squeaky toy invaded his senses. Confused, Rafa looked down to see he'd stood on one of the dog's toys. All movement froze. He waited a couple heartbeats, to see if the pup had awakened. When no fur-ball came running his way, he assumed it was safe to move again.

The kitchen was up next. Rafa held back a laugh at the matching Mr & Mrs aprons which were hung up, mentally storing the reminder to mock them about it in his speech later on. A cupboard was slowly pulled open, a large bowl- in which countless of his favorite goodies were made by top baker Y/N- was lowered out of it and the tap was switched on, water trickling out of it and directly into the dish he was holding up.

Rafa now had to move more carefully than ever, his eyes flicking back and forth between the floor in front of him and the sloshing water in the bowl. But he had made his way safely up the stairs, down the hall and, now, he was finally rounding the corner to their shared bedroom. He could see the door had been left half open and, like the most tense scene in a thriller, Rafa took one step, two steps, three steps before he stumbled upon the exact image he'd been awaiting.

There they lay in bed, all shamelessly tangled up in silk sheets and limbs. His head on her pillow, her face buried in his neck. Casual sleepwear adorned them both- much to Rafa's own relief - whilst their outfits from the night before were strewn across the whole room. Each of their chests rose and fell in sync with one another, their breathing more peaceful than that of a monk. They so perfectly detailed what it meant to wholeheartedly be in love with someone, with no real effort whatsoever. It was such a shame Rafa was about to ruin their whole picture perfect sleep.

Eyeing the dog bed, Rafa affirmed that the pup was peacefully off in dreamland, with no sign of waking up and ruining his little surprise. He tiptoed from there onward, making his way around the king sized bed, stepping over abandoned cushions and swerving between articles of clothing. Panic coursed through him as Daveed let out a groan, rolling over where he lay. When the man's eyes remained shut, Rafa continued his careful journey to his best friend's bedside. After snapping a few pictures of the sleeping, unsuspecting fools, he lifted the bowl of water, carefully balancing it over them with his hands.

The first few drops fell onto the pillow, but the rest? They completely soaked Daveed and Y/N (mostly Daveed, he was Rafa's main target after all) and sent them both flying out of bed, eyes still half shut and wet hair dripping water all over the place. The first thing they noticed was Rafa, bent over at the waist, hand clutching his sides as laughter shook through his rib-cage.

“What the fuck, dude?” Y/N was the first one to speak, as she picked up and threw one of the cushions at Rafa, who smoothly ducked from her aim.

“What time is it?” Daveed had sat back on the bed at this point, shoulders hunched as he tried to find his phone.

“It's eight am.” Rafa passed him his phone. “And don't you what the fuck? me." He put on a high pitched voice as he addressed Y/N, dodging another one of her cushion attacks.

“I do not sound like that.”

“You do in my head.” Another cushion, this time it actually whacked him on the thigh. “I told you guys you wouldn't sleep apart and you two agreed to the bet, the forfeit being I get to dump a bowl of water over you both.”

“Hey, this isn't my fault.” Daveed stood up again, reaching for a pair of sweatpants off the floor. The bundle of fur had woken up by then, barking at Y/N's feet until she reached down to pick him up. “I was here alone last night, ready to sleep alone when she showed up at the door. She forced me to lose.”

“Oh, please!” Rafa was glad to see Y/N redirect her flying cushions at Daveed. “You practically dragged me into bed last night. I didn't force anything on you.”

“It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to turn away a tired woman at my door.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

“I brought it back just for you, babe.”

The buzzing of his phone in his pocket reminded Rafa of the fact that this was no ordinary day, where the two idiots in front of him had the entire morning to have meaningless arguments. Today, they were all on a strict schedule and Rafa was half responsible for making sure it all went well.

“As fun as this is,” He paused, redirecting his complete attention to Y/N. “you have a car waiting for you outside, to take you back to your parents home to get ready. So, with all due respect, fuck off and let me get D ready for you.”

“Fine, whatever, I'm going.” He could tell she wasn't really as bothered as she tried to seem, especially from the way her shoulders were shaking in silent laughter. “Be warned, Rafa, if you try take credit for our relationship in your speech, I will not hesitate to deck you in front of my whole family. Capiche?”

“You know, it's not too late to change your mind, Y/N. There's still a chance to rekindle our old flame and reenact that kiss we shared years ago.”

“Hey, watch your mouth!” Daveed made his way over to Y/N's side and wrapped an arm over her shoulder. “That's my wife you're speaking to.”

“Not yet, Diggs.” Rafa grabbed at the other man's arm, stripping him away from Y/N as the two tried to share a kiss. “Save that for the altar, you two.”

The couple collectively let out a frustrated sigh as Rafa guided her out of the house, both aware of the fact that the next time they locked eyes, they'd be swearing eternal fidelity and love to one another and, as much as neither would admit it out loud, they owed it all to Rafa and his gossiping ways.

[harlot-of-oblivion]

A Lotus In Full Bloom (Part 9)

Vergil finally confronts his feelings for his lovely rose while you untangle the thorns from around your darling devil’s heart.

It’s finally here! Hope ya’ll are ready for some angst, comforting fluff, and all the romance! 🌹😍🌹

Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part 🌺😊🌺

If someone had told Vergil over two decades ago that he would not only be a father but also be in his son’s wedding, he would’ve laughed in their face before calling them a fool. But now, here he is checking over his suit for the big day that is only two days away. And he isn’t just part of the wedding party…he’s all set to surprise the happy couple with a violin performance during their first dance with a little help from his lovely rose.

The thought of you summons that warm feeling in his chest as he zips the garment bag up before putting it back in his closet. Both of you have met every single day since the beach party, tirelessly practicing together in your music room until late at night. You still think that your piano skills are woefully inadequate, but he has the utmost confidence in your abilities. He knows that you can perform this unique gift for his son and future daughter-in-law with him.

There’s only enough time for one more practice session before the rehearsal dinner tomorrow, Vergil thought as he finished getting ready in his room. He glances over to the hidden box underneath his bed, reminding himself to pick some fresh flowers for you before heading over to your place. The pit of his stomach drops a little at the thought, knowing deep down that he will no doubt give you the blooms without a verbal confession despite his best efforts to do so this entire week.

Ever since he shared that intimate moment with you among the waves, he has felt this sickening swirl building up inside him; it grows stronger and stronger the more time he spends with you. And every time he intends to finally confess, it crawls up his throat and stifles his words to a mere quiet gasp of frustration. He honestly does not know what’s come over him; what could possibly be stopping a Son of Sparda from admitting his intentions aloud? The very notion of hesitating at all is maddening…and today is his last chance to tell you how he truly feels before both of you get swept up in the final preparations for the wedding.

Vergil looks over at the wall mirror by his bedroom door, giving himself a nod of approval in the reflection before grabbing the Yamato. I won’t hesitate this time, my lovely rose, he vows with a determined huff while exiting his room. It only takes him a few long strides down the hall to turn around the corner by the staircase. And it is there where he comes upon a strange sight: an oafish buffoon that bears a striking resemblance to his little brother is lying across the couch in the shop’s office, groaning loudly while covering his eyes with one arm.

How…curious, he thought with a quirked brow as he descended the stairs. Dante doesn’t even acknowledge the sound of his soft footfalls nor the occasional creaks of the wood on some of the steps. Vergil rolls his eyes at his brother’s overly dramatic display, but he cannot resist asking about his little farce. “And what, pray tell, has you groaning like a stricken cow?” he snidely inquires, pausing by the foot of the stairs as he waits for his brother’s answer.

Dante turns his head and peeks up from behind his arm. “Have you kissed Buttercup yet?”

Vergil’s jaw hardens into a harsh scowl. “What I do while in the company of Y/N is none of your concern.”

“Unbelievable,” Dante mutters under his breath with a shake of his head. “She’s totally in love with you and you’re blowing it!” he exclaims, waving both arms in the air before letting them flop back down on the couch with a frustrated sigh.

Vergil scoffs at his brother’s attempt to pry into his personal life as he walks behind the desk. “I don’t see how our relationship is any of your business.”

Dante grunts as he sits up on the couch. “Just listen to your brother for once, Verg,” he requests sincerely, voice dropping down into a serious tone. “You gotta make your move soon before she gets the wrong idea.”

The familiar sickening swirl starts to coalesce deep within his belly. “The wrong idea about what?” Vergil asks stubbornly, trying his best to ignore the thick lump forming in his throat as he stares down his brother from across the room.

“Do I really need to spell it out for ya?” Dante asks incredulously as he leans back against his seat. “Man, Buttercup’s really got her work cut out for her,” he sighs with a disappointed frown, crossing one ankle atop his knee while stretching his arms out on the back of the couch as he continues talking. “Being strung along by my dumbass brother, who can’t even admit his own feelings and JUST KISS HER ALREADY!”

Vergil’s brow twitches irritably at his brother’s rowdy voice as it bellows through the shop. He can feel a surly retort forming on the tip of his tongue but just before he can spit it out, the subtle movement of something shifting out of place catches his eye. His head tilts inquisitively as he leans over and peers down behind the radiator, spotting a very gaudy piece of poster board that depicts what looks to be some sort of seaside scenery. But what really grabs his attention is the huge bold letters that make up the header of this poster:

OPERATION: GET DUMBASS BROTHER AND BUTTERCUP TOGETHER

“Dante…” he growls, feeling every last ounce of his composure turning to dust as he reaches for the poster. He pulls it out from its poor hiding place, silently seething as he reads the intricate instructions detailing some of the events that played out during the beach party. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demands, turning the poster around and pointing at the childish drawing of two stick figures holding hands with a deathly glower.

His brother has the audacity to shrug his shoulders defensively. “Whaaaaat? You needed a little push in the right direction and I just-”

“You insufferable wretch!”

Dante grunts as a couple of summoned swords pierce his chest, effectively cutting him off as the offending poster gets shredded by the blue ripple of a small Judgement Cut. “I know you’ve always loved meddling with my private affairs, but you better tread carefully, little brother…” Vergil stalks over to the couch and looms over his brother as he finishes his venomous warning. “I’m in no mood for your foolishness!”

“Maybe if you weren’t so helpless when it comes to romance, you wouldn’t need my help putting your tulips together!” Dante remarks bluntly through gritted teeth, clutching his chest as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Look, I know that you somehow managed to nail at least one other lady back in the day, but that doesn’t mean-”

Vergil’s entire body becomes rigid as he draws back from the couch, averting his fierce gaze towards a messy corner of the shop. Dante stops short at the sudden yet subtle shift in his overall demeanor. The air becomes still and eerily quiet since the shop is absent of the jukebox’s abhorrent music for once…until one of them breaks the silence.

“Wait a minute,” Dante murmurs, resting both hands on his knees while looking up at him suspiciously. “Are you afraid of telling her?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Vergil scoffs, barely giving his brother a passing glance as the sickening swirl starts churning in the pit of his stomach.

“Holy shit,” Dante whispers, eyes widening in shock as he keeps goading him into talking more. “You really are afraid, aren’t ya?”

Vergil glares down at his little brother. “I’m no such thing!” he snarls, lips twisting into a bitter grimace while his fists ball up impatiently, one clenching around the Yamato tightly while the other pulls his leather glove taut over his knuckles.

Dante snorts with a nod of his head. “Really? Then why haven’t you swept her off her feet yet, huh?” he inquires with a knowing smirk that only grows wider at the stoic silence that answers his question. “Something’s holding you back…I can tell,” he sighs wearily, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch again. “So, what’s scaring you off from a total babe like Buttercup?” he wonders aloud, scratching his scruffy chin while staring up at the grody ceiling in thought.

“I will eviscerate you on the spot if you don’t cease this infuriating conversation immediately!” Vergil commands with a vicious growl, lifting the Yamato to show his thumb at the ready below the hilt.

“If it’s really about making the first move, then you can’t say I didn’t try to help!” Dante points out with a wave of his hand, completely ignoring his final warning as he persists with his nosy musings. “C’mon, Verg…talk to me. Are ya afraid of commitment? Or maybe you’re scared she’ll reject-”

Vergil feels the last shred of his self-control snap as he pops the handle up with a loud metallic click. Then, he teleports in front of his brother before sinking the Yamato deep within his gut. Dante grunts from the inflicted pain as he struggles to move, but the sword’s razor-sharp edge has him pinned to the back of the couch. “I’ve had enough of your mindless chatter!” he fumes, giving his blade a grinding twist before withdrawing it with a furious growl.

Dante hisses and doubles over on the couch, clutching his belly while groaning in agony. Vergil pays his brother no mind as he flicks the Yamato clean before sheathing the blade, not caring about making an even bigger mess of the shop as he turns away from his brother. “I’m going for a walk,” he barks while marching over towards the entryway, “and if you know what’s good for you…” He pauses with his hand on the door handle.

“You will not follow me.”

And with those final cautionary words, he jerks the door open and stomps out of the shop in an awfully foul mood. He quickly steps down the stairs before unsheathing the Yamato once more. The faint rumble of thunder booms across the sky as he opens a portal to anywhere but here. His keen ears hear the shop door swing open just as he walks through the portal and some gruff cursing as it seals shut behind him.  

Vergil finds himself standing in some sparse woodlands. He has no idea where he is exactly, and he does not care to find out. The only thing occupying his thoughts now is the pure unbridled rage running through his body like a wildfire in the dead of a blistering cold night. And with no one around to witness the crack in his carefully constructed façade of cool composure…the devil inside him roars and claws beneath his skin as this white hot anger fully consumes him, triggering the transformation of his other demonic form with a loud snarl.

The leaves of the surrounding trees tremble at the force of his demonic power as it rushes through the woods. His scorching hot breath comes out in aggravated puffs as he waits for the anger to subside, but his brother’s false assumptions keep ringing through his mind…making his blood boil even hotter as he takes to the air. How dare he make such foolish claims…fear doesn’t suit a Son of Sparda! he seethes while zooming over the scattered canopy of trees.

Then why haven’t you swept her off her feet yet, huh?

Dante’s astute observation strikes at the heart of the matter just as a streak of lightning flashes through the sky. The sickening swirl is back and stronger than ever as it coils into a nauseous knot deep within his gut, forcing him to halt his furious flight as thunder crashes down all around him with a loud crack. He hovers amid the charged air, hoping that the rumbling roll of the oncoming storm would drown out the maddening thoughts of his mind…but the persistent voice of his brother keeps chipping away at his resolve.    

Holy shit…You really are afraid, aren’t ya?

Something’s holding you back…I can tell.

Are ya afraid of commitment? Or maybe you’re scared she’ll reject-

Vergil lets out a tormented roar, no longer able to stand the torrent of thoughts whirling in his head. The distorted tone of his suffering melds with the deafening boom of thunder as the sky finally breaks open. He stares up at the dark clouds and as the heavy drops of summer rain douse his armored face, he cannot help but think of the day he first spoke to you…how he found you standing in the rain moments after you brazenly bloomed before his very eyes. You were the image of pure tranquility…staring up at the sky while your lovely face glistened in the sprinkling rain.

The very thought of you drains every bit of his bitter anger out of him…leaving only misery and regret in its wake. He slowly descends towards an open area of the woodlands, no longer feeling up to flying away from the truth. His demonic form fades away with a quick flash as soon as he lands, kneeling upon the wet and grassy ground with a dull thud. The heavy rainfall immediately soaks through his slicked back hair and signature coat now that the thick armor plating is gone. But he hardly notices his drenched state while the thunderstorm raging on above, dejectedly hanging his head as he finally faces the truth buried deep within his tangled briars.

I’m afraid of getting hurt...again.

The hurtful memory of his mother leading Dante by the hand away from danger flashes before his eyes. He remembers seeing them enter the manor together from the playground…leaving him behind with the demons running amok. It was on that fateful day that he first felt the sting of rejection…being abandoned by his mother and watching her save his brother shaped his ruthless outlook on life for years to come. And even though he now knows that she not only turned back but died trying to save him…it still does not erase the pain he went through while enduring his past trauma and all the trials and tribulations thereafter.

I’m afraid of being rejected…again.

Vergil clenches his fists as another unwelcome memory comes to taunt him. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping to bury the image of a woman clad in red back into the deeper recesses of his mind. What a strange twist of misfortune…he can recall the day she spurned his offer to stay with her, and yet he cannot even remember her face nor any other details about the mother of his only son! And with that little tryst, he learned a harsh yet necessary truth: rejection is inevitable when you’re a Son of Sparda.

But knowing a truth does not mean you have to accept it, my darling devil.

The sweet lilt of your voice shakes him out of his brooding thoughts, bringing him back down to the present. Even when you are not there with him…you know exactly what to say to pull him back from the darkest part of his crumbling soul. He blinks and wipes away droplets of rain from his eyes, but the relentless downpour of the storm blows against his gloomy face as he picks himself up from the grassy ground. The painful memories of his past slowly recede as he wanders aimlessly through the marshy woodlands, completely despondent while a litany of self-loathing spins uncontrollably around in his head.

How can a prickly devil such as myself ever be worthy of her love and affection?

I have nothing to offer her except torment and despair…

There’s no sense in delaying the inevitable.

After all, I’d only be a burden to her if I kept denying what I’ve always known since the beginning of our unlikely relationship...

I’m unworthy of the lovely rose that has bloomed within my heart.

His sulking spell comes to a screeching halt when the faint glimmer of a pink flower catches his eye. He suddenly becomes aware of surroundings; the thunderstorm has dwindled down to a light shower and the sky has grown dark with the approaching night. But the total loss of time doesn’t fully sink in as he moves in closer towards a peaceful pond, feeling drawn to the exquisite blossom upon its serene surface.  

Whenever you find yourself consumed by despair…remember the spirit of the lotus.

The soothing tone of your voice drowns out his dreadful contemplation. He recalls the day he heard those wise words pass from your lips…he shared a meal with you for the very first time among the beautiful blooms of your garden. A lotus begins its existence in the dark and murky depths, your charming voice continues to ring through his head as he wades through the pond towards the lone lotus. For it to fully bloom it must endure those harsh conditions, pushing through the mud and the muck as it rises towards clearer waters. He reaches down and cups the elegant bloom with both of his hands while your flowery anecdote ends on a happy and hopeful note.

Eventually, its resilience pays off when the lotus breaks through the surface and its petals slowly unfurl to soak up the rays of the sun for the very first time.

Vergil summons a sword and carefully cuts the lone lotus from the pond. I may have missed the practice session…but perhaps this will make up for my tardiness, he surmises while storing the lotus inside his soaking wet coat before calling for the Yamato. He finds himself facing one last truth as he opens a portal just outside the gate behind your house:

You may be better off without him…but he simply can’t let go of the lovely rose that has miraculously bloomed within his briars.

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

You’ve had a pretty hectic week since the beach party: between putting together all the floral arrangements and many musical interludes with Vergil, you’ve been busier than a bee in the spring. And you’re only going to be buzzing around even harder now that the big day is only two days away! All of your time today was spent doing last minute preparations before the wedding rehearsal, making sure all the flowers are accounted for before being delivered, and squeezing in one last practice session before the imminent chaos of a wedding frenzy.

Well, that was the plan anyway, but then Vergil didn’t show up on the agreed time, which struck you as very odd…he’s always been so punctual and has even been cross with you on a couple occasions whenever he had to wait for you to join him! You tried calling his cellphone after waiting for a while, thinking that maybe he just got delayed or something…but there was no answer. And there must not be anyone at the shop either since nobody picked up the phone there either.

Your gut tells you that something is wrong, but you’re at a loss of what to do about it. You thought about contacting either Kyrie or Nero, but the soon-to-be wedded couple already have enough on her mind. Plus, you do not want to add any unnecessary stress if it turns out to be nothing at all. So, you decide to just keep an eye on your phone while putting the finishing touches on the dress you’ve made especially for the happy occasion.

I hope he’s okay, you thought, worrying your lower lip while reinforcing the floral embroidery with a needle and some thread. You try to stay focused on the task at hand, but your mind keeps going back to your darling devil. Vergil has become such a huge part of your everyday life ever since that fateful rainy day in the book café. It feels so empty without his familiar presence near you now…always watching from the corner of his eye with a soft smile or sharing a favorite passage from a beloved book. And even though your romantic feelings haven’t technically been reciprocated aloud, you know that your affection has taken root and with a little more patience…just a little more…

Another roll of distant thunder echoes through the room as the storm finally lets up, but now it has gotten dark outside. Your eyes flicker over to check the time on a nearby clock and see that you have missed dinner…by six hours! Sweet basil, I should really pay more attention! you berate yourself while cutting the thread with your teeth. You stick your sewing needle into a stuffed rose bud that serves as your pin cushion and gather up all the spare scrapes of tulle, lace, and satin. As you hang up the dress, you note that it’s so close to being complete; all it needs is some minor fixes and a good steaming before it’s ready for the wedding.

You sigh and head downstairs for a belated dinner, wondering if you should heat up some leftovers or just make a sandwich with some veggie chips. By the time you get to the kitchen, you’ve made up your mind and open the fridge to take out your homemade chicken salad with grapes and pecans. Your stomach growls impatiently as you grab a couple slices of ciabatta bread and put this simple meal together on a plate. You add some salt and vinegar zucchini chips to the plate before pouring yourself a tall glass of iced hibiscus tea.

“There…now it’s time to eat, drink, and be rosemary!” you cheer, softly giggling to yourself while taking your meal to the small dining table across from the kitchen.

You set your plate down before pulling a chair out, but the sudden ringing of your doorbell stops you from taking your seat. Huh…that’s strange, you muse with a curious tilt of your head, it’s a bit late for receiving visitors. You bite your lower lip and twirl a stray lock of your hair around your fingers while considering your options: it would be rude to not answer the door…after all, it could be someone in need of help! But then you remember the worried face of your darling devil that day in your garden when the demons attacked, recalling the promise you made to not put yourself into any possible danger ever again…

The doorbell rings once more and you finally decide to see who it could possibly be since it seems they have no intention of leaving. And besides, it could be Vergil, you reason while making your way down the hall. And he could even be hurt! you add in panic, picking up the pace until coming to a halt just on the other side of the front door. You take a quick peek through the tiny peephole and your starving stomach drops at the sight of a familiar stoic face on the other side of the door.

“What in carnation!” you gasp in shock before ripping the front door open. “Vergil? What are you doing out so late in this rain?”

The devil in question just silently stands there looking sullen and soaking wet as he glances down at you. His icy blue eyes are filled to the brim with melancholy and unspoken regret. And his perfectly styled white hair is now disheveled and framing his sodden face. He shows no sign of hearing your inquiry and continues to stare down at you quietly. You do not know what may have happened, but whatever it is…it’s shaken him to the core, and you will not idly stand by while your darling devil suffers alone.

“Here,” you whisper while offering your hand, “come inside.”

Vergil seems to ponder for a moment while his eyes dart down towards your hands. Then, he raises one gloved hand and places it upon your own warm and welcoming palm. You gently guide him inside your home, noting how cold and damp his skin is as you close the front door. “Alright,” you sigh in relief now that he is safe within the comforting walls of your home. “Now, you need some dry clothes to change into since you’re absolutely drenched!” you explain with a sweet and cheery grin.

You start to walk towards the stairs, but the slight tugging on your hands stops you in your tracks. “Don’t worry,” you murmur, looking back over your shoulder at the man who not only stole your heart, but also needs your help right now. “Let me take care of you, Vergil,” you plead quietly, reassuring him with a soft squeeze of your hand. The spark of concern within his eyes recedes as he nods his head in consent.

Your lips curl into a gracious smile as you lead him up the stairs and straight towards your bedroom. You hope that he doesn’t notice the mess in his distressed state as you usher him into your adjoining bathroom. “I’m gonna scrounge up some spare clothes while you dry off,” you explain with a gentle nod of your head. “And feel free to the shower if you want,” you suggest while pointing to one corner of your bathroom. “There should be some soap and shampoo already in there.”

Vergil looks at the glass doors of your shower and back at you before rubbing the back of your hand in understanding with his thumb. You squeeze his hand one last time before backing away towards the door. “Just uh…put your wet clothes right outside the door and I’ll take care of them,” you inform while stepping out of the bathroom, trying hard to not let your mind wander into more steamy territory. “And I’ll uh…leave those spare clothes just outside the door for you, okay?”

You give one last encouraging smile before closing the bathroom door. Your mind starts to race as you rush over to the closet and start frantically searching for anything that comes close to being his size. But all you can find is an oversized T-shirt and some baggy cotton pants that you sometimes wear to bed. Hmm…they might fit, you ponder before tossing them onto your bed along with a floral satin bathrobe you spot hanging on your vanity mirror. Then, you scurry down the upstairs hall and open the door to your childhood room, remembering that you had a large quantity of flowery fabric that you once used to make some curtains.

This will do nicely if all else fails! you reckon with a crafty grin while cutting a huge section of the fabric off the spool. You fold it up nicely and head back to your bedroom to put it with the assortment of clothing by the bathroom door. A pile of soggy blue clothes is waiting right outside the door just as you requested, so you quickly drop off the dry clothes and carefully gather up his signature coat, vest, leather pants, boots, gloves…

Your eyes widen when you realize that there isn’t any underwear to be found. You look towards the bathroom door just as the shower turns on and you find yourself thinking about all the times you spent together, wondering if he had always…you can’t even finish the thought without blushing. There’s no time for dilly-dallying! you reprimanded yourself with a shake of your head before marching out of your bedroom and back downstairs to take care of Vergil’s wet clothes.

You zoom by the belated dinner that is still waiting for you on the small dining table, but you ignore it for now and open the door to the laundry room. As you place the pile of clothes on top of the dryer, you catch a whiff of what smells like the lake in your hometown: murky and a little bit musty with a hint of fresh rain. Did he go swimming in the middle of that thunderstorm? you wonder while sorting through the wet clothes. You decide to at least wash his signature coat and hang the rest up to dry since they need special treatment to get clean.

It only takes you a couple seconds to check the pockets before putting his coat into the washer with a scoop of laundry detergent. Then, you dig up a few hangers lying around before hanging up the rest of his clothes except for his boots, which go underneath your ironing board to prevent any tripping. You walk out of the laundry room and your stomach growls impatiently as you pass by your neglected dinner again…but the sudden thought of preparing a place for Vergil to sleep delays your meal for just a bit longer as you rush back upstairs.

The only other bedroom you have is your old childhood room, but it’s more of a supply closet now for various things. And your mother’s small and quaint library would work if it weren’t for all the dust plus the lack of furniture. So, that only leaves your room or the couch in your living room…you can already feel your cheeks heating up at the thought of inviting Vergil to share your bed. But your heart tells you that despite the tempting opportunity, now is not the time to pull such a risky move since it’s obvious that something is troubling him…and you’re going to help soothe his sorrowful soul.

You enter your room and notice that the shower is no longer running as you head towards the closet again. And as you walk back out with an arm full of pillows and blankets, you note that the assortment of dry clothes you left out is now gone. You hurry down the stairs and dump the pillows onto a nearby chair so that you can lay a couple of blankets out on the couch. Then, you replace all the decorative pillows with comfier ones while looking over your handy work. But when you take in the overall size of your couch, you start to wonder if his long legs will even be able to rest on the couch comfortably.

Well, it’ll have to do, you thought with a resigned sigh while turning around to check up on your devilish guest.

“Friggin’ figs!”

The sudden appearance of Vergil quietly lurking behind you makes your heart skip a beat as you jump back a little. You clutch your chest while taking a couple of deep breaths as your eyes linger up and down his form. The floral satin robe stretches taut around his shoulders, and you guess that it must’ve been too short since the flowery fabric is wrapped around his waist and hanging down below his knees. His eyes still have a gloomy spark within their icy blue depths as they stare back at you through his damp hair. And even with that pouty frown on his handsome face, he looks a lot better than when he first walked into your home a little while ago. So, you let your usual quip about wrapping a bell around his neck die of your tongue and give him a relieved smile.

“I brought out some extra pillows and blankets just in case you needed them,” you explain, gesturing behind you towards the now ready-for-bed couch. “But it might be a bit too small for you,” you tack on sheepishly, biting your lower lip in thought while Vergil takes a couple steps closer to you. “Maybe I should just sleep here while you…take…” you gradually trail off as he brings one hand around from behind his back to reveal an extraordinarily beautiful pink lotus flower. Your heart thrums like a buzzing dragonfly as you reach out to caress one of its many elegant petals.

“Is this why you were completely soaked from head to toe?” you inquire, realizing that he must have waded out into a deep pond to pick this flower of pure devotion. He remains silent as you look up at him, but the way his eyes soften for the barest of moments before slowly blinking tells you it’s part of the reason why he’s so drenched. Your lips quirk into a fond smile at the thought of your prim and proper devil trudging through mucky water for a most wondrous bloom just so he could give it to you.

“It’s getting late,” you murmur while lowering your affectionate gaze to the offered flower, taking it from his hand and holding it close to your heart. “We need to get some rest since the wedding rehearsal is tomorrow and-”

“Stay with me.”

Your eyes widen and snap back up to meet his solemn gaze. Vergil takes another step closer to you, reaching up with one hand to cup your face. You find that you cannot deny his earnest request as you lean into his touch and shiver at his warm touch as he caresses your rosy cheek. “Okay…but let me just-”

The very loud and hungry growl of your stomach abruptly ends the tender moment. Vergil furrows his brow in confusion while you softly giggle and pat your belly. “I was about to eat dinner when you arrived,” you reveal with a bashful smirk. He frowns sadly at your words and begins to move away, but you place your hand on top of his before it can leave your cheek and press a soft kiss against his wrist.

“Let me just grab my plate and bring it in here,” you continue while rubbing the back of his hand. “I can also make you something to eat too if you haven’t had dinner yet,” you kindly insist with a small smirk.

Vergil declines your offer of dinner with a shake of his head. Your lips press one last kiss against his wrist before excusing yourself with a light pat on the back of his hand. You place the precious lotus flower on the coffee table before dashing to your neglected sandwich, which is still patiently waiting along with your now lukewarm drink. But you don’t seem to notice as you pick it all up and hurry back to the living room.

You take a seat on the couch and invite Vergil to join you by patting the empty cushion beside you with a pleasant smile. The corners of his mouth twitch into a soft smile as he sits down close to you. The only sound filling the comfortable silence between you two is the light tapping of rain against the roof of your house. His stiff posture gradually unwinds as he watches you from the corner of his eye while you finally eat your dinner. You give him a veggie chip after every other bite of your sandwich, which he always accepts despite turning down your earlier offer of food.

You ask if he still needs some company before going to bed as soon as you are finished eating your dinner. He responds with the same soft request while squeezing your hand within his firm grip. His eyes track your every move as you collect the dirty dishes before standing up, never letting your hand go until you let him know that you will only be gone for a moment. “I can’t very well sleep in this dress now, can I?” you ask with a soft giggle, slightly swinging your clasped hands while gesturing towards your pink and white floral skirt.

Vergil nods his head in understanding and kisses the back of your hand before letting it go. You walk back to the kitchen to put the dirty dishes in the sink, and then you quickly make your way upstairs to get ready for bed. Some of your daydreams about giving your darling devil a place to stay after a rigorous battle with demons start running through your mind while picking out a nightgown. You also recall one particular daydream about patching up his wounds after saving you from mortal peril…which somehow leads to you writhing in pleasure beneath him…

Your cheeks feel like they are on fire by the time you finally settle on wearing a long nightgown with a white floral pattern. You get undressed and slip on the gown before letting down your hair, pushing all the salacious thoughts out of your mind with a flustered shake of your head. After taking a few more minutes to use the bathroom and brush your teeth, you head downstairs and hurry back towards the laundry room to put his signature coat into the dryer before rejoining your darling devil in the living room.

Vergil hasn’t moved an inch since you left, still sitting motionless on the couch until he hears your dainty footsteps. He raises his head up at your soft approach, and you swear his eyes seem to dimly glow as they roam up and down your shapely form. Your body shivers at his blatant gaze as you adjust some of the pillows on one end of the couch before grabbing one of the numerous blankets you brought for him. You know…it would’ve made more sense to give him one of these instead of that huge piece of fabric, you silently admit, hiding the embarrassment of making such a silly decision with a coy smile.

You sit back down on the couch and lie back against the pillows, beckoning Vergil to come join you while holding both your arms out towards him. He only hesitates for a moment before crawling over and laying his head just below your chin while you cover both of your bodies with the blanket. His arms wrap around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You nuzzle the top of his head while your arms encircle his broad shoulders, sheathing his weary soul with the love and affection you have for him.

Both of you lie there on the couch swathed in each other’s comforting presence while the rest of the world passes by in silence. Vergil has only spoken three words since arriving at your doorstep, never revealing what exactly is wrong. But now that he’s safe within your arms, you can feel the faint trickling of tears dripping against your neck, hidden away from your view as you snuggle him closer. You do not ask why he’s crying…you know that will only thicken the prickly briars around his heart. Instead, you just let him express the inner turmoil currently raging inside him while providing a safe place for him to release all these pent-up emotions churning inside him.

The harsh downpour from earlier has now lessened to a light rainfall, barely occupying the empty air with its pitter pattering of the dissipating storm. You can still feel Vergil trying to put up a strong front despite the tears pooling in the groove between your neck and chest. Your fingers brush through his soft hair while you press a comforting kiss upon his forehead, wondering how you can possibly bring peace to his troubled mind. The only solution that pops into your head is what your grandma used to do whenever you were sad and upset: sing you to sleep with a lullaby. So, you begin to softly sing one of your favorite lullabies from your childhood, hoping that the serene lilt of your song will help soothe your darling devil’s soul:

Count to one, count to two, where do flowers grow?

Underneath the window where children softly doze

The moon shining brightly makes every petal glow

Count to three, count to four, where do flowers bloom?

Resting upon the mirror frame in mama's room,

A sweet little bud of a beautiful flower of blue

 Let us count them all, let us count them all,

All the lovely flowers blooming, let us count them all!

 Count to seven, count to eight, as we fall asleep

Every child is dreaming of fragrant flowers sweet

And momma makes a bouquet for you to keep

The soft cadence of your voice fills the room, banishing the gloomy air surrounding you with every refrain of your sweet lullaby. You feel all the tension slowly leave Vergil’s body until all that you’re left with is a totally relaxed devil sinking into your loving embrace. One of your hands rubs up and down his back while the other continues to rake your fingers through his hair, hoping that you lulled him to sleep while your eyes droop from your own drowsiness. You try to fight it off, wanting to be there for him just in case he needs you, but you feel yourself drifting off…clutching onto him while trying to stay grounded in the waking world…

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

You’re not aware of finally succumbing to sleep until the first ray of dawn shines through the window. You slowly open your eyes and start to wonder why you are sleeping on the couch instead of your very comfy bed…but then you feel the soft touch of familiar lips kissing your neck. The memory of Vergil showing up at your doorstep in the middle of a storm swiftly dispels your confusion. You hug the man that makes your heart sing like a songbird in the morning while his lips leave your neck to bestow a light peck on your cheek.

Vergil props himself up with one arm and brushes a few locks of your hair away from your weary face. “Good morning, my lovely rose,” he murmurs with a fond smirk.

“Mmm…good morning,” you hum, sweetly smiling back at him while looking down with a demure tilt of your head. “Feeling any better now that you’ve had some rest?” you inquire, fighting the urge to yawn while rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Yes,” he replies with a firm nod. “But sleep isn’t what lifted my spirits,” he admits, softly caressing your cheek as his silver blue eyes shine with admiration.

You happily beam up at him and quietly bask in this intimate moment while leaning into his touch before asking if he would like some morning tea. He gladly accepts your offer with a slight nod of his head and sits up so that you can get up from the couch. You catch a glimpse of his bare legs in all their glory before he covers them up with the blanket. The flowery fabric must’ve come loose during his sleep, you surmise, spotting the piece of fabric in question down on the floor by the couch. Warm tingles flutter around in your stomach like a swarm of butterflies as you hop off the couch and rush towards the kitchen before you make a blushing fool of yourself so early in the morning.

It takes you a few minutes to brew a couple cups of blackberry and mint tea while pushing away all the elaborate daydreams that try to occupy your thoughts. You make your way back to the living room and hand Vergil his cuppa with a kind smile before taking a seat next to him. Both of you drink your tea in comfortable silence, enjoying the sweet tartness of blackberries while the refreshing undertone of mint banishes the remnants of sleep from your mind. You peek up at him between every other sip of your tea, wondering if you should even bring up what happened to him yesterday.

You wait until he’s about done with his tea before finally broaching the subject. “Do you want to talk about what made you so upset?”

Vergil pauses at your question while setting his cup down on the coffee table. You give him a moment to recover before continuing. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” you softly reassure with a comforting pat on his arm. “And if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to-”

“You’ve already done so much for me,” he interjects, staring down at you with dejected eyes. “And it is I that should return the favor and explain myself.” He takes your partly finished tea and sets it next to his empty cup before turning his body towards you on the couch while holding both of your hands. His thumb sweeps across your knuckles as he takes a moment to collect his thoughts. You cannot help but to admire his handsome face while waiting for him to speak, wondering if his unkempt hair always frames those beautifully blue eyes of his every morning.

Vergil takes a deep breath through his nose before pinning you down with his pensive gaze. “For a long time, I genuinely believed that my mother abandoned me during the attack on our childhood home. I’ve endured for years with that burdensome truth hanging over my head until…” he trails off, squeezing your hands while closing his eyes for a moment before going on. “It turns out that she did try to save me…she just didn’t make it before…” he pauses again as the trauma of his childhood breaks through his voice.

Your eyes begin welling up with unshed tears as he takes a shuddering breath, wanting to wrap your darling devil within your protective embrace. But he quickly composes himself with another calm and more even breath, and you resist the urge to pull him into a hug for now as he continues to speak. “And then there was this woman who I thought…” he bows his head and rubs the back of your hands with his thumbs as he tells you the sad ending of that romance. “She spurned me even after I confessed my desire to stay by her side.”

You hear the sharp pang of heartache in his words, which dredges up your own personal experiences with the painful sting of rejection. A single tear starts trickling down your cheek as you lean over and nuzzle up against his chest, squeezing his hands in understanding while he finishes his explanation. “I finally just resigned myself to living a life spent alone, vowing to never let anyone get too close again since all they ever bring is pain and suffering...until now.”

Vergil grasps your shoulder and gently pushes you back from his chest. “I find myself wanting to spend my every waking moment with you,” he earnestly confesses, bringing his hand below your chin and lifting your face up so that he can stare into your teary eyes. “The lovely rose who has captivated the heart and soul of this crumbling devil before you,” he adds with a sincere smile, cupping your lovely face and wiping away your warm tears with his thumb.

Your heart thrums within your chest like a hummingbird as his heartfelt confession graces your ears. You gaze up at the man who has cleared a path through his prickly briars to the heart and soul of his very being. You’ve longed to hear those words ever since that day in the book café where you finally found the courage to speak to him. It ended with you making the promise of only taking a small step among the briars and yet, here you are now…just one last step away from the alluring devil that has captured your heart and soul as well.

Vergil leans down and rests his head against your brow, still rubbing your cheek fondly while staring deeply into your hopeful eyes. You’re drawn to the flicker of conviction within the depth of his icy blue eyes, and you feel yourself being pulled in closer and closer…but the sudden flash of uncertainty gives you pause. You silently ask if this is truly what he wants with a tilt of your head. He sighs and takes both of your hands once more, closing his eyes before lifting his head to press a soft kiss between your brow.  

“I have nothing to offer to you in return,” he murmurs sadly against your skin. “And I’m not worthy of your love and affection.”

Your eyes widen in astonishment as you rear your head back. “But you’ve already given me the best gift, my darling devil,” you reveal, shaking your head at his silly assumption with an amused smirk.  

“Truly?” he whispers while the little crinkle between his brow that you’ve always found so endearing furrows in confusion.

“Of course!” you giggle softly, nodding your head as you lean in closer. “I’ve seen your requited love with every flower you’ve ever given me.” Your eyes glance over at the exquisite lotus flower still sitting on the coffee table near your forgotten cup of tea. “And with every soft caress upon my cheek…” You lift your arm and trace up along his elegant jaw with the back of your hand. “And with every gentle kiss pressing so sweetly…”

You lean up as far as you can without leaving your seat and press your lips just above the corner of his mouth, mimicking his previous kisses at the beach and by the camellias. All signs of lingering doubt vanish from his eyes, which only leaves a fierce flicker that sparks into unbridled desire. He leans down and wraps his arms around you while lowering his head towards your chest, pulling you closer to him until you are practically sitting in his lap. You feel his mouth moving just below your neck as he softly recites what sounds like a poem, but the intimate touch of his lips muddles your mind while his sensuous voice makes your body tremble with anticipation:

Innocent breasts, when I have looked upon them,

Would that my hands were there,

How have I craved, and dreaming thus upon them,

Love wakened from despair.

Vergil pauses and nuzzles your neck for a moment before drawing back to pull you even closer to him. You clutch the floral satin robe around his shoulders and let out a shuddering sigh as he cups your flushed cheek once more, meeting your ardent gaze while gently nestling his face closer to your own. His thumb slowly traces your gaping mouth as he continues his riveting recitation:  

Beauty on lips flaming,

Roses red with her shaming,

And I with passion burning

And with my whole heart yearning

For her mouth, her mouth, her mouth,

That on her beauty I might slake my drouth.  

A soft whimper creeps up your throat when the amorous poem comes to an end, but the feel of his soft lips crashing against your mouth turns the whimper into an enraptured moan. You tilt your head slightly while your arms slide up around his neck, letting him have more access to your lips as you kiss him back with wild abandon. All the pent-up tension of the last few months is finally released as both of your lips smack against each with feverous hunger. One of your hands slithers down his chest and slips beneath the satin robe before resting right over his heart. You let the rhythm of his passionate heartbeat lull you into a rapturous stupor, relishing the sight, the smell, the feel, the taste…just everything about the devil sets your heart aflame.  

Vergil squeezes your hip with one hand while the other rakes through your hair, cradling your head as he swipes his tongue out against your lower lip. You part your lips and softly moan as he plunges in, showing no mercy as he explores the cavern of your mouth with his devilish tongue. His movements are a bit clumsy from lack of practice, but his enthusiasm makes up for it as he guides you to lie back on the couch, never breaking away from your lips while enclosing you beneath his body. You surge forth and entangle your tongue with his own while pulling him tighter against you, greedy for more of your darling devil’s kiss after waiting for so long. The outside world fades away and time becomes meaningless as both of your lips silently beg for more, more, more…

The unexpected chime of your doorbell rings through the room, but neither of you cease your heady kissing as it rings again…and again…until a series of very loud knocking cracks against your front door. Vergil finally breaks away from your gasping mouth with a growl, glaring towards your front door with spite in his eyes. You are about to wonder who could be visiting this early in the morning aloud when a familiar voice booms through the door:

“Hey, Buttercup! Anyone home?”

Dante gives another ring of the doorbell along with some more knocking, which only deepens the vicious scowl on his brother’s face. You sigh softly and cup his cheek before turning his harsh gaze back towards you with a tender caress of your thumb. His silvery blue eyes instantly soften as soon as they peer down at your flushed face, and he smirks with pride while bending down to kiss your reddened lips. He tries to pry your lips open once more, but you gently push him back before his tempting tongue can sweep away.

“We both know that he’s not going anywhere until we answer,” you point out while the knocking gets even louder. “Plus, it sounds like he’s about to break down my door!”

Vergil remains still as he stares down you, mulling over your reasoning as his brother’s persistence makes his brow twitch with annoyance. “Foolishness,” he growls softly before sitting up on the couch so that you can go get the door. The floral satin robe loosened up a little during your heated kiss, so you do your best to not openly stare at his chest as he wraps a blanket around his waist. You pick up the flowery fabric from the floor and cloak it over your shoulders as you scamper off towards the entryway.

You open the door just as Dante is about to bang on it again. “Well, look who’s up earlier than a morning glory!” you exclaim with a radiant smile while placing a hand on your hip.

Dante nods his head in greeting before rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry for waking you up so early,” he apologizes with a sheepish grin, but you can see a glint of worry within his eyes before it quickly disappears. “But my cranky brother ran away from home and I was wonderin’ if you’ve seen him recently?” he asks while taking out a piece of paper from his coat pocket. He opens it up and shows you a poor rendition of his brother’s likeness drawn in what looks to be crayon.

“I am not some stray dog, Dante!”

You look over your shoulder at the sound of Vergil’s angry voice. He stomps across the living room towards the entryway while Dante lets out a bark of laughter at his brother’s furious remark. “Well, ya could’ve fooled…me…” he stammers, eyes growing wide with shock as Vergil appears behind you. Your head turns back and forth between them as they just stare at each other in silence, comparing Dante’s astonished grin to Vergil’s severe frown.

Your eyes glance up at Vergil as you step away from the door. “I’m gonna check to see if your clothes are dry,” you inform, gesturing towards the laundry with your head. “Just please don’t damage my front porch, okay?” you implore with a charming grin.

Vergil chortles at your humorous plea. “You have my word,” he vows with a small stoic bow before stepping out onto your porch, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Your ears pick up the distinct sound of summon swords materializing as you rush towards the laundry room. You wince at Dante’s grunts of pain echoing through the hall as you enter the kitchen. But instead of checking on his clothes, you sneak out the back door and run through your garden, not caring about the morning dew chilling your bare feet as you quickly pick the perfect flowers. Then, you hurry back inside to really check on his clothes this time; his shoes and leather pants are fairly dry while his vest remains very damp. You open the dryer and pull out his signature coat, nodding your head in approval at its crisp and clean appearance before laying it out on your ironing board.

I can’t tie flowers around the Yamato this time, but I can still surprise him in other ways! you contend while going back to the kitchen. You bind the little bouquet of flowers with some twine you cut from a spare spool before heading back to the laundry room. All the lovely memories of Vergil pulling flowers from the inside pocket of his coat plays in your mind as you hide the pretty blooms in the very same place. The front door slams shut just as you are gathering his clothes into your arms. You walk out the laundry room and meet Vergil in the hallway, exchanging a few hurried words as you lead him down the hall towards the guest bathroom.

You tidy up the living room while he changes clothes, but your thoughts are buzzing with all that has happened since late last night. The couch is still slightly warm from both of you sleeping there…and kissing there. Your lips tingle at the thought, already aching for another kiss from your darling devil. The familiar warmth of a blush dusts your cheeks as you fold the blankets and stack the pillows. As soon as the couch is all straightened out, you turn to the coffee table and reach for the teacups, but an almost fully dressed Vergil entering the living room halts your hand.

The vest must’ve been too damp for his liking, you observe with subtle gulp while your eyes appreciate the pleasant view of a disheveled devil walking towards you. The lapels of his signature coat sway with every step, revealing just enough of his bare chest for your hungry eyes. And you cannot help but to admire the alluring sway of his white hair around his gorgeous face as he pins you down with his fierce gaze. The knowing smirk curling on his lips makes you shiver with delight as he stands in front of you.

“I guess you’ve got to go now, huh?” you inquire with a doleful pout.

Vergil gives you a confirming nod. “I promised Nero that I would help him memorize his vows before rehearsal later this afternoon,” he informs while taking your hand within his gentle grasp. “Thank you for receiving me with such warm generosity despite my tardiness.” He bows his head and lifts your hand up to give the top of your knuckles a tender kiss. His adoring gaze never strays from your enamored stare as his lips linger up the back of your hand. “And thank you for the lovely flowers in my coat pocket,” he murmurs, pressing one last kiss against your hand with a smug grin.

You let out a small huff as his lips draw back from your hand. “You’re supposed to find them while walking back to the shop!” you exclaim as he reaches into his coat to reveal what you thought was a well-hidden tiny bouquet of snowdrops with a single red dahlia. “They would’ve looked prettier on the Yamato anyway,” you mutter, rolling your eyes while staring down at your feet in defeat.

“I tend to agree.”

Vergil extends his arm to the side and a sudden flash of bright blue energy surrounds his hand. Your eyes widen in surprise as the Yamato materializes out of thin air within his grasp. He hands the flowers over to you before holding the impressive sword out for you to tie the tiny bouquet to its sheath. Your face lights up and an excited giggle escapes your lips as you loosen the twine around the flowers and carefully wrap them around the Yamato. The white snowdrops add a touch of hopefulness while the single red dahlia compliments the sword’s power and strength, perfectly conveying the message you wish to send:

Never doubt my love for I’ve always been forever yours.

“There!” you exclaim as soon as you are done tying the flowers with a secure bow. “They really are quite beautiful, aren’t they?”

You feel your heart bloom as you glance up to behold his besotted gaze. “Yes,” he replies while wrapping an arm around your waist. “But it’s not their beauty that captivates me, my beloved rose,” he declares before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your mouth instantly gives into his unyielding mouth with a soft whimper, clutching the lapels of his coat while craning your neck to meet every ravenous stroke of his tongue. This kiss is more desperate, as if he’s begging you to accept every scar upon his soul, pleading that you’ll stay beside him despite the dangers of treading through his prickly briars. And you give yourself to him openly, accepting his battered and bruised soul, vowing to love every part of him despite all the thorns that may cut you along the way. Neither of you want the kiss to end, constantly taking turns drawing back only to be drawn in again for just a little bit longer…but both of you have a busy day ahead. So, your fervid kiss eventually slows down until both of you exchange a few sweet pecks on each other’s lips.

You walk with Vergil to the entryway but stop him from opening the door, claiming that he needs to give you a farewell kiss with a cheery grin. He raises an amused brow and bends down to fulfill your request, giving you the perfect opening to rake your fingers through his hair. He hums against your lips as the soft white locks stay up in his usual slicked back style, and you happily announce that he’s now ready to face the chaos of a wedding rehearsal. He chuckles softly at your cute gesture and promises to speak more about your newfound relationship after the wedding before taking his leave.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, you look through the peephole and see Dante waiting at the bottom of your driveway. Vergil walks past him and down the street, which earns an amused shrug from his brother before he chases after him. You continue to watch until both of them disappear from your view before turning around and leaning back against the door. You lift your hand and lightly touch your lips, which still tingle from your darling devil’s kiss as the significance of what just happened sinks in…and then, you let out a joyous squeal while bouncing around like a bumbling bee.

He called me his beloved rose!

This subtle change to his endearment for you may be small, but it’s enough to send your heart soaring high like a skylark. Never have you felt such sweet bliss as this…but there’s no time dawdle with an impending wedding around the corner! So, you fly up the stairs to get ready for the day busy ahead while thinking about Vergil. And as your mind wanders through many rapturous daydreams, you reflect upon a certain truth within your heart: you will gladly bear the prick of your darling devil’s pain for there will always be thorns amidst the roses.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Read on Ao3

My Masterlist if you want more 💖

The lullaby is Hanakazoe (Chise’s Lullaby). The steamy poem is from Carmina Burana (trans. by Helen Waddell). And I’d like to thank @furyeclipse and @twinkstimulator for beta reading my first attempt at angst 🌹😘🌹

Tagging: @drusoona @bettybattaglia @exsultry @thedyingmoon @veenus-ow @meowykittenn @fandomhell97 @vergilsangel @thenightgazer @cherryvane @yesno18 @diabeticsugarush @queenmuzz @mary-v-o-n @tinamalee @a-midsummer-nights-odyssey @ancientwhitefire @agentdedf1sh @divinity-deos @shiranyaaww @skarlet-red-rose @lucinalu219 @superluckystar

[imaginingsoftly]

Wedding Date pt. 6 - Tyler Seguin

Type: strangers-enemies-lovers, series

Requested: no

Warnings: swearing, mentions of emotional manipulation and shitty exes, minor assault

A/N: one more part after this one!

Melissa had never been more thankful for facetime than she was on Saturday, listening to Kirsten gossip about work and John while she tried to stop her hands from shaking long enough to apply mascara. “Lissy, breathe.” Like always, her best friend picked up on her moods. “You look hot as hell, and Tyler is gonna lose his shit.” Melissa looked over to where her dress for the evening hung from a door frame. “And your dress is perfect, so stop freaking.” Kirsten glared at Melissa from her side of the video call, and Melissa choked out a laugh.

“I know it’s all irrational, I just,” Melissa sighed. She didn’t know how to put how she was feeling into words.

“He’s not Liam, sweetheart. Tyler isn’t gonna know how to act when he sees you in that dress.” Kirsten’s smile turned sympathetic. “I promise he’s a good guy, Lissy. I wouldn’t have pushed him in your direction otherwise.” Kirsten’s eyes widened as she realized what she’d said. 

Melissa laughed out loud, all at once feeling the fist in her chest loosening. “So you admit you were setting us up?” Kirsten shrugged noncommittally, but Melissa could hear John yelling something about his “meddling lover” in the background. “Even John agrees, babe, you can’t deny it anymore.” 

The pair hung up with promises to get together for a virtual wine night soon, and then Melissa was alone with her thoughts. Her ten minute warning alarm went off, and she slipped off the ratty t-shirt she’d been wearing to put her dress on. Dress shopping had been an unexpected novelty. In the time that she’d attended events with Liam, he’d bought the dresses for her. Melissa had told herself it was just because he liked spoiling her with dresses she couldn’t really afford, fancy designer labels she could only dream of wearing, but really it was about control. The dresses were usually accompanied by comments about being “flattering for her body” or bought a size too small to go alongside comments that she was gaining weight. 

In hindsight it was so obvious what he had been doing, but in the moment it hadn’t seemed like much. She found herself second-guessing all of their conversations, everything he’d ever done. Now she was just doing her best not to transfer that doubt into her other relationships. 

Curls brushed the small of Melissa’s back as she slid the dress on. The thick straps settled gently right off her shoulders, and the emerald silk settled snugly around her chest and middle before flowing gently to just below her knees. Melissa smoothed her hands over the fabric as she looked into the mirror. Kirsten was right, it really was the perfect dress for her. 

A knock sounded at the front door of Melissa’s townhouse. She found herself smiling as she slid down the stairs, and her smile widened when she saw Tyler on the other side of the door. “Come on in, I’ve just gotta put my shoes on.” Tyler didn’t move. In fact he didn’t react at all; he stood in the doorway staring at Melissa expressionlessly. “Ty?” Melissa smoothed her hands over the dress again. Maybe her and Kirsten had been wrong, maybe it wasn’t good enough. “Are you,” she stopped to swallow. “Do you want me to change?” 

Tyler’s eyes jerked to Melissa’s face. “Change?” He scoffed. “Sweetheart I thought perfect was you in that bridesmaid dress but this is blowing that outfit out of the water.“ He took two giant steps forward and settled his hands on Melissa’s hips. She looked straight ahead, memorizing the threads of gold in Tyler’s tie rather than meeting his eyes. “Baby,” Tyler said gently, “look at me.” He moved one hand from Melissa’s hip to her chin, lifting it gently so their eyes met. “You look beautiful.” She bit her lip, not quite believing him, and Tyler frowned. “He made you feel bad about how you looked.” Not a question, but Melissa nodded anyway. Tyler’s jaw tightened. “Show me your room.” 

He didn’t leave any room for negotiating, and Melissa turned to walk up the stairs. She was hoping for some space, maybe a chance to catch her breath, but Tyler had other ideas. He gently gripped Melissa’s hand as she led him up the stairs and into her room. “Stand in front of the mirror.” Melissa’s stomach flipped. Tyler crowded her back, leaning his head down to whisper in her ear. “Trust me, baby.” Tyler looked dangerous standing behind her when she finally looked in the mirror, clearly angry if the set of his jaw and shoulders were any indication. 

“You. Are. So. Fucking. Beautiful.” Tyler slipped his hands onto Melissa’s hips as he spoke, emphasizing each word with a kiss where Melissa’s neck met her shoulder. “That first time I saw you, in that giant shirt and no pants, I felt like someone had slapped me in the face. You were so fucking hot, with not a care in the world, and you’ve only gotten more and more beautiful the more I get to know you.” Melissa looked down. The heat in Tyler’s gaze was too much. He gently spun her around and lifted her chin again. It was becoming something of a signature move for him at this point. “I will fight anyone who tries to make you feel less incredible than you are. Baby, you deserve the world.”

Tears welled up in Melissa’s eyes, and she leaned forward to rest her head against Tyler���s chest. “I’m trying to remember that. I just can’t help but hear his voice in my head sometimes.” She just kept telling Tyler things that even Kirsten didn’t really know. It was like he had a shortcut to her brain and she couldn’t help but tell him the truth. 

Tyler kissed the top of Melissa’s head and she sank even further into his touch. “I’ll remind you every day how beautiful you are if you need me to, sweetheart.” She believed him. Liam’s voice in the back of her mind grew smaller every day, and it was becoming easier to block him out.

A small splotch of foundation showed on Tyler’s dress shirt when Melissa finally lifted her head several minutes later. Tyler didn’t seem to care, even as Melissa dabbed a makeup wipe on the spot to get rid of it. He waved off her muttered apologies and pulled on her hips until their lower halves were pressed together. “Ty, you’re making this very difficult.” He released one hip, gripping both of Melissa’s hands in one of his own.

“Sweetheart, I don’t care about the makeup. Do you still want to go with me?” If she hadn’t already started to fall for the guy, those words alone would have been enough to do her in. He genuinely cared. She nodded slightly, and Tyler ducked his head down to meet her eyes. “I need a verbal yes or no here, Liss. You say the word and we take all this shit off and order a pizza.” 

Melissa giggled and reached down for one of Tyler’s hands. “I didn’t spend over an hour on hair and makeup just to take it all off.” She began tugging Tyler in the direction of the door, and he obliged. “This shit is meant to be seen, Ty.” His laugh rang in her ears all the way out the door and gave her the extra boost of confidence to push Liam and his taught insecurities out of her mind for the time being.

_____________________________________________

Being Tyler’s date to events was quickly becoming Melissa’s favorite activity. They made quite a duo, and Tyler’s teammates were doing a fantastic job of boosting her self-confidence. It was all in jest, but she’s heard from no less than half the team that Tyler was lucky to have snagged someone as pretty as her. Every comment by his teammates was met by affirmation from Tyler, along with another whispered compliment in her ear. It almost seemed like he was trying to replace every negative comment from Liam with a positive one of his own. 

Everything was going well until it came time to acknowledge the donors. Each donor was invited onto the stage to accept a signed plaque from the team, a bunch of bureaucratic bullshit that had everyone yawning and reaching for another glass of their drink of choice. Melissa was focused on Tyler’s hand slowly creeping up her thigh and the shininess of the bald spot on the top of their tablemate’s head. As a result, she was only halfway paying attention to the names of donors until his name was called. 

Tyler noticed immediately the way Melissa’s head jerked up at the sound of Jim Nill calling out the last name “Baldrich”, and his hand tightened on her thigh. “No,” she whispered to herself. Tightening began in her chest as her heart literally skipped a beat. The feel of Tyler’s hand on her thigh disappeared as blonde hair and a slim form stepped onto the stage. Liam. She blindly reached in the direction she knew Tyler’s leg was and gripped his knee as hard as she could. Grounding. She needed to ground herself. 

Liam’s eyes met hers through the crowd and she knew he had done this on purpose. He smirked, winked in her direction, and looked back at the front as a cameraman caught his picture. Slowly, or at least slowly in Melissa’s mind, Liam made his way off the stage. She lost him in the crowd. “Lissa.” Tyler’s voice sounded like it was coming at her from a tunnel. “Melissa.” She turned her head in his direction, and warm brown eyes roiling with concern filled her field of view. “Baby, what happened?” She tried to catch her breath, and Tyler finally figured out she was really losing it. He pulled Melissa to her feet and somehow she stood on wobbly legs to head outside with him. They didn’t stop moving until Tyler had pulled her into a family bathroom off the hallway.

“Baby, I know you’re having a panic attack right now, but I can’t help you unless you can tell me what triggered you.” Shit, he knew so much. Half the time she didn’t even realize she was having a panic attack. “Try and mimic my breathing.” Tyler squeezed both of Melissa’s hands until she met his eyes again, and he began taking exaggerated deep breaths. She followed as best she could, and some small part of her brain that wasn’t panicking recognized he knew exactly what to do.

He kept up the breathing until Melissa’s heart rate slowed and she could breath without narrowing her focus down to the rise and fall of Tyler’s chest. She leaned forward until her forehead rested at the base of Tyler’s throat, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. It should have felt restrictive after the imaginary band that had wrapped around her chest only minutes ago, but Tyler’s arms felt different. Relaxing. “He’s here,” Melissa mumbled into Tyler’s chest. “Baldrich. That was Liam.” 

Tyler’s arms tightened slightly before he released Melissa. “He’s here?” His jaw clenched when she nodded. “He followed you here.” Not a question, but she nodded again.

“I can’t think of any other reason he’d be here. They don’t have any corporate or family business down here.” Her stomach clenched at the implication. If that was true, he’d officially crossed over into stalker-ish territory. God, how had she gotten his personality so wrong?

As if he could sense she was about to lose it again, Tyler reached down to grip Melissa’s hands. “We’re gonna handle this together. We’ll go work on getting a restraining order tomorrow, and you’re getting a new phone number.” He gently gripped Melissa’s chin until she looked into his eyes. “I’m with you all the way, baby, but if you need me to step back you just say the word. You’re in charge here, okay?” Her heart swelled at his consideration, and Tyler held her chin until she nodded in response. “Good.” He kissed her forehead and stepped back. “We’re going to go back out there and say goodbye to everybody, and then I’ll take you home.” 

Melissa leaned into Tyler’s touch as he guided her out of the bathroom with a hand on the small of her back. His hand was warm and reassuring, and his thumb swept a soothing pattern along her spine. The noise of the gala began to reach them again as they entered the main hallway outside the room, and Melissa stopped short when she almost ran headlong into Liam. “I thought you knew better than that, Melissa.” His voice grated along her spine, and she felt a cold sweat break out along her hairline. Just the sound of his voice was enough to make her freeze. “You can’t wear silk. It highlights the extra fat you have on your stomach.” One sentence, and he shredded through the fragile self-confidence Melissa had begun to build. She worked her throat in an attempt to clear the lump away. “Come on now, Melissa. It’s time to come home. Enough of this nonsense.” 

A low noise came from Melissa’s left, and she glanced over to see Tyler nearly shaking with anger. It struck her then how different the two men were. One of them could make her feel beautiful and strong regardless of what she was wearing, and the other never really thought she was good enough. Melissa didn’t move, slowly reaching out a hand to touch Tyler’s. Liam clenched his jaw. “Enough. You’re acting childish.” Liam reached out and grabbed Melissa’s arm in a bruising grip when she didn’t move, and Tyler snapped. She blinked instinctively when Tyler’s arm came in front of her, and when her eyes opened again Liam was on the ground with a bloody nose and Tyler was standing in front of her protectively. 

Melissa had a second to appreciate the look of Liam finally being taken down a notch before the Benn brothers and a couple more of Tyler’s teammates swept in from a few feet away. Jordie gently guided Melissa away, soft hands tugging her to the side while Jamie hauled Tyler back. Tyler was muttering under his breath, and Jamie finally pulled him close enough to Melissa that she could hear him muttering “he fucking touched her” over and over again. 

Large hands settled on her shoulders, and she looked up to see Jordie’s gentle eyes staring down at her face. “You okay, sweetheart?” She nodded, and he cupped her cheek gently. “He’s lucky all he did was grab you. I don’t think coach would have appreciated having to bail Tyler and half the team out of jail tonight.” Melissa barked out a laugh, and Jordie looked pleased. Clearly he’d been attempting to make her smile, but she still sensed a bit of truth in his words. It was startling to realize she’d stumbled upon friends that would fight for her safety without a second thought. It was like Jordie could read her mind when he tapped her cheek gently. “You’re family now, whether you stay with Tyler or not. Nobody touches family.” The middle Benn stared down at her sternly, and Melissa nodded. She was getting that now.

Tyler and Jamie appeared on either side of Jordie, and he stepped back with a grin. Melissa had barely a second to reconcile everything Jordie had said to her before Tyler was sweeping in, hands on her face. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you?” She shook her head, and then Tyler’s arms were around her again. “You ready to go home?” Melissa mumbled a yes into his neck, more than ready to be away from the crowds and into more comfortable clothing. They said a hasty goodbye to the Benns and the rest of Tyler’s team and then they were gone, silent until Tyler had steered his car back onto the highway. 

“I know you want to take all of this slow, but can I stay the night?” Tyler glanced over at her nervously and continued. “I don’t mean for any sexual stuff or anything, unless you want to obviously, I just don’t want to leave you alone tonight.” Melissa smiled at the sight of an expert player looking nervous over the idea of being rejected. He fidgeted, hands not sitting in one place on the wheel or various locations within reach.

One of Tyler’s hands came down to rest on the gearshift as he changed lanes, and Melissa reached over to grip it. Tyler peeked over at her from the corner of his eyes, and she brought his hand to her lips. “I’d really appreciate the company tonight, actually.” He visibly relaxed at her words, and Melissa held in a laugh. “Any chance you’d be down for a few beers and one of the late baseball games?” 

It was Tyler’s turn to bring her hand to his lips, and she tried not to melt. “Baby I can’t think of anything better than you, beer, and baseball.”

[bisexualsforprompto]

I read your garmari headcanons and got real depressed by the end, so like, to clear my skin and cure my depression, some first kiss fluff with garmari

The Perfect Date

Garmari fluff ahead!

If Marinette had to describe dating Garfield Logan in one word it would be: odd.

Her life was already fairly odd, granted, but dating Gar was a new kind of odd.

For example, sometimes when she woke up she would find a fuzzy animal curled up next to her because Gar walked and apparently transformed in his sleep. The first time it happened Marinette screamed, which promptly woke Beast Boy. He had been sleeping next to her in the form of a cuddly bunny, but when he heard her yell he popped out of his transformation naturally because he was so startled.

It took Marinette a full minute to calm down, but after that she found his periodic sleepwalking into her room endearing, and dare she say it: cute.

If that wasn’t enough, what was even odder was that in time she had been dating Garfield they hadn’t kissed at all.

Marinette wasn’t too bothered by it, but it seemed to surprise everyone who lived in Titans tower with them.

It’s not that neither of them didn’t want to be affectionate in their relationship, it was just they barely got to go on dates with saving the world and all the baggage that came with it.

In fact, she and Gar had only been on a grand total of three dates, two of which were interrupted, and they had been dating for months.

The only date that wasn’t interrupted was their third one, and it was a double date with Dick and Kor’i, so they didn’t really get alone time.

Marinette and Gar would cuddle mostly, they were seen by everyone as an adorable couple, they just never had their first kiss.

But Marinette was determined to make the perfect date. She had planned it to a tee, the perfect day, the perfect location and the exact perfect moment to have her first kiss. She wanted everything to be perfect, so naturally she was stressing out.

“Garfield will be back in exactly fourteen minutes and thirty two seconds, so I need to run through my plan one more time!” Marinette said frantically searching through her room for her plan.

“But Marinette, haven’t you already gone over the plan with us before?” Kor’i asked fiddling with Marinette’s design on her mannequin.

“She has.” Raven said looking up from her book, “But she wants it to be perfect. I just don’t know why you’re spending so much time on Beast Boy of all people, you could just play video games all day and he wouldn’t care.”

“Are you kidding?! This is so important! It must be done to a science! The picnic is first, with pastries I made myself of course, and then right when Gar has finished the dessert, I’ll tell him how I feel!”

“I am confused. Have you not already expressed your feelings to each other?” Kor’i asked.

“Well we have, but this time at the very end I’ll move in and then he’ll move in and then bam! The perfect first kiss.” Marinette squealed.

“Marinette.” Raven shut her book, “I don’t like to meddle in people’s personal lives, but I think you’re planning a little too much. You can’t plan for the perfect first kiss, it’ll come naturally.”

Marinette ignored her in favor of straightening up her floral print dress.

It was a creamy ivory with pink flowers on the bottom of the skirt and a sweetheart neckline with beads she had painstakingly sewn on herself. Marinette wasn’t going to lie, she felt slightly uncomfortable in it, but it was all necessary to achieve her dream.

She heard the ding of the elevator and quickly grabbed her silver clutch, and checked her hair which was placed in a neat bun and ran out to the Titans lobby.

Victor and Dick were chatting eagerly with Gar about a new video game that came out.

On a normal day, Marinette would be joining in the conversation as well, but today was not a normal day.

It was going to be a perfect day.

“Hey Nettie.” Gar said before transforming into a hummingbird, flying over to her and nuzzling her cheek. Her shoulders relaxed and she heard Dick and Vic snicker before going into the kitchen.

Gar transformed back into his normal self and admired Marinette’s dress, “You look really pretty Mari, what’s the occasion?”

And that’s when Marinette remembered a very key element of her plan that she had forgotten, being so wrapped up in planning the day...she forgot to tell Gar about the date.

“We’re going on a date...that I forgot to tell you about, oh kwami! Disaster!” She buried her face in her hands. Garfield couldn't help, but laugh. Marinette’s face never left her hands and she let out a muffled, “It’s not funny.”

“Sorry!” Gar chuckled before smiling endearingly at her, “What did you have planned? I am free!”

Marinette lit up and she lifted her face up with a grin, “Well first I-“

The Titans alarm interrupted her. Marinette felt her eye twitch.

This wasn’t happening to her.

This wasn’t happening to her.

This wasn’t happen-

“Trouble!” Robin called already suited up, it was a mystery in itself how Dick changed so quickly, “We need to be at Jump City National ASAP. It’s an attack from Doctor Light.”

Robin noticed Marinette and Garfield’s mirrored scowl. “I know the timing isn’t ideal,” he said softly, “But crime waits for no one. Now get a move on!”

Marinette huffed, “Spots on.” And watched as her beautiful ensemble melted away in favor of her Ladybug costume.

“Sorry Nettiebug.”

“Let’s just get this over with.” Marinette pouted.

————

Of course nothing could be easy. Dr. Light took a full four hours to defeat and by the time they had made it back to the Tower everyone was thoroughly worn out. Marinette trudged to her room slowly watching as her teammates collapsed in their own rooms from the exhaustion of the fight.

“Hey.” Gar said rubbing her shoulders, “I know that kinda sucked, but we can go out another day can’t we?”

Before Marinette could stop them, tears began to fall down her cheeks and she collapsed into Gar’s arms. His expression went from shock to worry and he lifted her and gently placed her on the couch and sat next to her.

“Hey...What’s wrong?”

“I had it all planned out, it was going to be perfect.” Marinette sniffed rubbing mascara from her red eyes.

Garfield sighed, “I know. I’m sorry. Sometimes it sucks to be a hero.” Marinette nodded and laid her head into the crook of his neck.

“I’m so...done.” Marinette huffed.

“Wanna relieve some stress?” Gar asked digging around on the table.

Marinette gave him a quizzical look until she saw him pull out two controllers and hand her one. She laughed and nodded. Gar turned on the console and opened up Ultimate Mecha Strike III. He turned down the volume as Marinette got into gaming position and hit play.

———

“No way! No way! I am not losing to you!” Marinette whisper-shouted as to not disturb her sleeping teammates.

“Get used to it Babe.” Gar smirked furiously tapping on his controller.

“Hah!” Marinette said getting the upper hand, “Yes!” She threw her arms up in victory and watched Gar’s shocked expression as he saw the ‘game over’ screen.

He shook his head with a small smile, “Okay you got me. Rematch?”

“You’re on! But first!” Maybe it was the fact that it was 2am and she wasn’t thinking right, but she smiled at him and leaned closer. He instinctively did the same and suddenly she felt fireworks as they shared a gentle kiss.

Huh, she thought, perfect.

—————

Taglist:

@northernbluetongue

@queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm

@luciferge

@legendaryneckjudgestudent

@interobanginyourmom

@beaversuenightly

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry

@mochinek0

@shamefullove

@emjrabbitwolf

@actual-disaster-human

@littleredrobinhoodlum

@elijahcoser

@daminett4life

@18-fandoms-unite-08

@kawaiigiantjudgefish

@corabeth11

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 209

209

The problem with supernatural senses was the ability to hear everything. Lance sympathised with Keith, cringing in second hand embarrassment for how his fiancé tried to talk to Pidge. Keith’s awkwardness was a thing of legend. There were a lot of “ums” in his sentence, and he’d twice assured Pidge “that it was okay if she didn’t want to”, before he finally asked if they could talk. The pair of them heading into the house as Hunk kept his eye on them.

“Catching” Hunk staring, Lance decided to say fuck it to manners. Hunk wasn’t upsetting Pidge on purpose. Shay wasn’t upsetting Pidge on purpose. They just weren’t quite clicking and though it wasn’t his place to say it, he didn’t want Pidge to feel left out because her best friend was dating the woman of his dreams

“Hunk, what’s up?”

“Pidge just went off with Keith... I thought they were going to check on Shiro and Curtis... I’m just... uh, I’m kind of wondering why they left”

Scratching the back of his head, Hunk stumped the other “adults” at the table. Allura and Coran both nursing empty tea cups, with Krolia kicked back and holding her half empty beer near her stomach

“It’s nothing to be worried about. They’ll be fine”

“Yeah, but... Dude, don’t you think she’s been acting weird lately? She doesn’t message me as much as she used to, and she didn’t defend how useful UV light could be to hunting vampires”

Hunk took the bait. Sure, Lance had been leading him

“Keith noticed Pidge isn’t happy and he’s gone to have a chat and make sure she’s okay”

Hunk gaped at him. Lance would have chuckled at his friend’s surprise if he hadn’t squashed his ego down. He didn’t want to hurt Hunk, nor did he particularly enjoy the conversation they needed to have. Shay pressed her lips together for half a moment in thought, before breaking her silence

“I can’t remember anything that would have upset her. Are you sure she’s upset?”

“Pidge is learning how much adulting sucks. We’re all in relationships now. We don’t do the fun things we used to do together. We don’t have games night anymore. We don’t hunt. Her best friend is moving in with his girlfriend and she wants to be involved. You guys haven’t done anything technically wrong, she just misses the old times. She’d decapitate me for the hell of it if she heard me. She’s feeling a little insecure right now, but Keith’ll calm her down”

Hunk immediately teared up. Nooo. Not Hunk tears. Whenever Hunk got teary, he did too

“I didn’t... I didn’t realise”

The first tear rolled down Lance’s cheek, causing him to sigh at himself mentally. He was so weak when it came to Hunk tears

“That’s because you haven’t done anything wrong. I’d be mad if you had and my face wound be all scary. Everyone grows and changes. Keith and I can hardly deny we’re very focused on each other. It’s really easy to do when you’re in love. Maybe at the end of the night you could suggest a games night? Or you could have her look at properties with you? She’d probably be able to blackmail the realestate agent into giving you cheaper rent...”

“I didn’t...”

“Dude, I know. I’m in no position to talk either. I let her down too. I let all of you guys down. I love you, bro. I love her, too. You guys are my family. Pidge just needs a little reassurance your still best friends for life... I kind of hope they’re not inside too long, I need to pee... I can’t wait for this pregnancy to be over... I want to meet them already”

Allura placed her hand on his shoulder

“I’m sure they’ll be here soon. We all can’t wait to meet them. You and Keith shall be amazing parents”

“Yeah. It’s going to be weird not having them inside me anymore...”

Lance loved it when they moved. He loved resting his hands on his belly and feeling them moving. Already so full of life. He loved belly rubs from Keith, and the way Keith cuddled into his stomach, peppering kissed to his stretched skin as if trying to kiss their twins through it. But everything else was getting too much. The joint pain. The fatigue. The constant heavy feeling in his chest. The last week of feeling constantly ill. His stupid yoyoing ego that couldn’t understand how a pregnancy had weakened him so much. The fits of anger. His overly active sense of smell. He was tired... and tired of waiting... but he... he also wanted to wait until he went into labour naturally so he could keep feeling them inside of him. For years he’d wondered how it’d feel to be human again. To fall in love and do all the other amazing things humans did... He’d never felt more human than in the last month of his pregnancy. He wasn’t sure he could mentally cope with his ego if he and Keith did chose to wait much longer. Mums to be were amazing. Movies just didn’t do justice to all the ups and downs of pregnancy. Feeling a tingling in his skin, Lance looked down at his arm, realising he was starting to burn under the lack of cloud cover. He wanted to give Keith and Pidge privacy, but if he stayed outside much longer, he’d go up in flames... Then again, Keith did say he was “smoking hot”.

*

Lance’s living room had also been transformed. The same bunting that hung outside, hung from everywhere it could inside. Stopping by the bathroom, Lance waddled in on Keith and Pidge mid-hug. Keith probably didn’t know what to do with being hugged so fiercely, still, it was a nice moment between the pair of them

“Hey, guys. Got room for one more?”

Breaking the hug, Pidge moved to make space between her and Keith. Lance waddling over to drop himself down between the pair of them. Yeah. Keith had a point. Maybe it’d be better to deliver early rather than feel cramping when he sat wrong, or sat too fast. He’d recognised that with fatigue came pain sensitivity. Small cramps had been happening more often over the last week, and he’d been reduced to crying over them more than once.

Leaning in, Keith kissed his cheek, Lance smiling at the action because he was so grossly in love with Keith that even a small kiss still managed to make him feel a million times better

“I thought I left you outside?”

Lance moved to show Keith the start of the sunburn on his arm. He’d run it under cold water to ease the burn, but it was still warm and tender to the touch

“You did. Apparently too much sun is bad for vampires... who would have thought?”

“I did wonder if I should find you an umbrella...”

“I’m fine. Plus, I’ve got my two favourite people here, so I thought I’d come stock up on some love”

Excusing himself to the bathroom, Lance knew he’d upset Hunk yet Hunk had to figure out how to make things right with Pidge without his meddling. He probably could have been more tactful about things, and picked a better time to bring the subject up. This was supposed to be party, not a counselling session. Feeling the twins kicking up a storm, he took Pidge’s hand, placing it on his belly. His friends were good about not just touching his belly without asking first, Pidge the one who seemed to hesitate the most when it came to feeling him being bashed up internally

“I think they know that their Aunty Pidge is here”

“Either that or they’ve inherited Keith’s inability to sit still”

Keith pouted, Pidge poking her tongue at him causing the werewolf to huff

“Lance is just as bad as I am”

“Lance has changed a lot since you came into our lives. You both have. You can tell you two are dating. You’ve got that old married couple vibe where you finish each other’s sentences and sound the same”

Lance couldn’t deny it. Keith had picked up so many of the expressions he used. And Lance had definitely picked up Keith’s habit of swearing openly.

“That’s what happens when you fall in love. Actually, Keith and I have something to tell you. We’re madly grossly in love, not just in love”

Pidge rolled her eyes at him

“I already know that. One bite between you and you’ve both turned into idiots”

“You know what they say, “Once bitten, twice stupid””

“Dude, it’s “once bitten, twice shy”. But I like your one better. You bit Keith to save his life and you both turned into love struck morons with a shared brain cell between you”

Keith frowned heavily at Pidge’s joke, Lance snorting due to how true it was

“He really does feel like the other half of me. I’d be happy to share a brain cell with him any day of the week. I know you’re worried about the future, but you’re always going to be a sister to me, and an aunt to the twins. No more sad, Pidge, not when she’s a scary little ankle biting gremlin that we all love”

Pidge pulled her hand back, looking to her lap

“Hey, you know I’m proud of you, Katie. You’ve been through a heck of a lot, like the rest of us. Things might have changed and they might be scary, but you’ll always have a home here with us... provided you don’t bring your work home and destroy my house with your experiments”

Pidge groaned deeply

“You blow up a circuit board once and they never let you forget it. And, if you call me “Katie” again, I’m going to give you a dead arm to go with that dead body of yours”

“Oh no! The gremlin’s getting angry. Quick, babe. You’d better make her a coffee before her wrath descends upon us”

“Fuck you”

“I’m flattered, but I’m in a loving and committed relationship... I mean, if I were two decades younger...”

Pidge punched his arm to shut him up

“You suck”

Lance continued with his shit stirring mood

“Quite well, don’t I, babe?”

“I’m not getting into this, but yes”

“See, my skills have got Keith’s stamp of approval”

“You’re going to have my footprint stamped to your arse if you keep traumatising me like this”

Wrapping his arms around his gremlin, Lance kissed her hair. Pidge trying to shove him off

“I love it when you’re mean. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you”

“Keith, help. Lance is being weird”

Keith hefted him back so Lance was laying awkwardly in his arms looking up at his fiancé. Bopping him on the nose, Lance went cross eyed as Keith let his finger hover

“Babe, leave the bitey creature alone. She’s fine. More importantly, did you put cream on your arm?”

Lance didn’t really prescribe to the use of burn cream seeing he healed on his own. Cold water would forever be the best things for burns

“Burn cream isn’t always good for burns, aaaaand the aloe vera is in our bathroom. Which is upstairs, and totally too much effort right now”

“You can’t ignore it. Where else got burnt?”

“I don’t know. Stop picking on me. I thought we were picking on Pidge”

“We’ve done that. I’ll grab the aloe vera, and Pidge can get you some blood. We have the whole day to relax... provided no one’s gone and planned party games”

Pidge burst that bubble. That tiny bubble of maybe fitting an uncaught nap in... This fatigue thing was ridiculous

“Oh, dude. There’s totally party games. We’re going to set up penalty beer pong under lunch”

Keith scrunched his brow. From how he was positioned, Lance kind of wanted to poke his finger right up Keith’s nose. It was like his nose was staring down at him, begging to be poked

“Should I be worried?”

Lance didn’t like to brag, but beer pong was his jam. His first time through college not so much, second time, he was pretty much undefeated. With how long it took to set up, it wasn’t usually one of their party games. Poor Keith had no idea what penalty beer pong had in store for him, Lance would have to defend his fiancé’s honour

“Seeing it’ll be you and Lance facing off, you should definitely be worried. Buuuut I totally didn’t tell you that. If you two are going to keep being gross, I’m going to go back to the party”

Whelp. Keith was on his own then... It was nice knowing him

“It’s okay, Pidgeon. Go forth and abandon us. Leave us... be that way... We’ll be back out as soon as I’ve had some blood and this sunburn starts healing. Maybe I should change into something longer, I don’t want to burst into flames at my own baby shower”

Keith bopped him on the nose again, before helping Lance sit back up

“That’s probably a good idea, babe. You��re smoking hot as it is. That’d make you literally flaming hot”

Pidge was completely right. They really did share one brain cell. The idea leaving a stupidly huge grin on his face that Pidge called “creepy” before leaving the pair of them.

*

Penalty beer pong... of all the things they could have played, they’d chosen some kind of abomination that belonged in hell. After lunch, Hunk had taken Lance aside, while Matt and Pidge took Keith inside. Both of them forced to wear headphones so they couldn’t hear each others answers to the questions for their friends had prepared. Keith felt very very dumb. 20 questions on Lance should have been easy... but their friends had really wracked their brains being creative and going for the odd, mostly unknowable things that he was supposed to know about his “boyfriend”.

With the living area the only place big enough to fit all of them, the coffee table was covered with a thick piece of plywood where the cups were set up. Keith didn’t like to admit that he’d never played beer pong. He’d never had the kinds of friends that did, nor did he go to college. One of the more popular games at Blade headquarters was darts with knives instead of darts, and vampire faces for targets. You took a shot if you failed to stick the knife in the vampire when it was your throw. He’d never been invited to play with James and the rest of them... He and Shiro used to have shooting target competitions, but that was just the pair of them with the winner getting out of some mundane house chore, that Adam usually scolded them about.

Kneeling across from him, they’d both avoided the penalty cups so far. Keith thought not getting the ball in one meant not having to drink what was it in. No. Instead the penalty was played out for each question they got wrong about each other. Each cup contained some kind of condiment construction Keith really wanted to avoid. It started tame, first with chilli sauce, then soy, then vinegar... slowly progressing in quantity and combination. The last cup was a grotesque mix of what seemed to be a little of everything from Lance’s pantry. Having swapped questionnaires, Hunk and Matt were their quiz masters. They were fifteen questions in, Keith not feeling the effects of the vodka he’d had to chug when Lance got the ping pong ball in his cups. His fiancé, not able to drink, was delegated water. Keith wasn’t sure that Lance actually won anything from playing against him seeing he’d have to pee the moment the game was done.

“Lance. What is Keith’s most annoying habit?”

Throwing the ping pong ball, his fiancé landed it perfectly in the cup. That’s how it went. Question, throw, answer, shot...

“His amazingly lacking self confidence since turning into a werewolf”

His damn fiancé got that one right... like the rest of them.

“Keith. How many years, combined, did Lance spend attending University?”

How the fuck was he supposed to know that? He didn’t know how long it took to be a lawyer... he didn’t know how long it took, or if Lance had any recognition of prior training to drop the amount of time he was required to study, plus his fiancé was a smart little shit... Lance looked sympathies and smug at the same time. Yeah. His questions were far easier than Keith’s had been. Tossing the retrieved ping pong ball, it landed in one of the penalty cups

“Um... I’m going to with... um... 12 years”

Lance groaned, Keith knowing he’d gotten the answer wrong. Matt delighted in telling him

“11 years and six months. Apparently being a lawyer in the early 90’s meant less time in class... Your first penalty shot is chilli sauce. Bottoms up”

If a jalapeño’s had sex with another jalapeño, then their offspring continued in breeding, that would only explain the fire in Keith’s mouth. His eyes running as his throat burned. That wasn’t simple chilli sauce in there

“God... it burns... what the hell is that?”

“Ghost pepper sauce”

Lance shot Matt a glare

“That’s not very nice. You guys are dicks”

Matt shrugged at Keith fanned his burning mouth

“Then he shouldn’t have gotten the question wrong”

“We didn’t really talk about it. Babe, you okay? Rieva, can you get Keith some milk, please. You guys are banned from giving Keith chilli ever again”

“Chill, dude. He’ll survive. Right, it’s your turn”

Lance plucked the ball from what looked to be soy sauce, unamused Keith’s ego wanted to flip the stupid board of cups over. Their friends were slightly laughing at his reaction to the chilli and Rieva hadn’t gone to get him a glass of milk

“Okay, Lance. What’s Keith’s deepest secret that he’s hiding at he moment?”

Keith had answered “He’d always believe in mothman until his dying breath”. Lance hummed at the question

“That he doesn’t hate Lotor as much as he says... it’s either that, something to with me, or something to do with his crush on mothman”

“Correct...”

No. That wasn’t correct at all! The game was rigged

“You two didn’t bother telling us that you’re engaged! Which is a secret to do with Lance, so technically correct!”

Suddenly Keith got the feeling that beer pong was less about what they knew about each other and more about what the group suspected and wanted to confirm

“They’re what?!”

From Pidge’s yelling, she mustn’t have been in on it... So this was all Matt’s idea to get them to confess to their secret engagement?! He could strangle him for putting them both on the spot like this. Right. He could play it cool... yep. No secret here

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, dude. We found the empty ring box in your bedside drawers. Why didn’t you tell us?! Do you know how happy we are for you guys?! This is awesome... Maybe not as awesome as Rieva saying yes to me, but we’re supposed to be your friends! We need to have a party to celebrate this”

Ahhhh. Keith wanted to laugh in relief. They hadn’t been caught yet, and now it seemed like a pretty fun idea to mess with Matt for going through their things

“That’s was from Krolia. There was never any ring in that box”

“You expect us to believe that?”

Keith glanced to his mother, Krolia shrugging as the others also looked to her

“Miriam and I both thought they’d make the cutest grooms. It’s not my fault he hasn’t proposed yet”

“What makes you think I’d be the one asking? Lance could always ask me, right, babe?”

“Yep. I totally could have been the one to ask him”

Sharing a look, Matt and Hunk both chuckled. Their “Sunshine Teddy” shaking his head

“Man, we all know Lance is the romantic one. He’d spend everyday waiting for you to ask, rather than asking you. Then, he’d expect the whole fairytale night. Dinner at a fancy restaurant. A bouquet of red roses as big as him...”

Hunk counted on his fingers, Matt adding as Hunk stalled mid-thought

“Don’t forget the champagne and the hotel room”

Hunk quickly counted those two on his fingers

“Yep. Lance is too much of a romantic”

Matt nodded quickly

“He’d drop hints too... Romcoms. Jewellery brochures... Though you’d probably miss them like you missed Valentine’s Day”

The pair were ganging up on him, Keith depressed about the fact they were right. Lance would have loved all that, but his fiancé didn’t need all that. He’d proposed in a horrible hotel room...

“Keith is romantic. Sure, his idea of good date is a trip to a shooting range, or some other combat related activity, but he’s very romantic. I don’t need all the fuss, I just need him”

Hunk faked feeling faint as he grabbed Matt by the arm, Matt playing it up and acting as if he were concerned

“Hunk?!”

“I’m okay... I never thought I’d live to hear Lance say something so unLance like. Pregnancy has changed you, man. Next thing you’ll give up watching your soap operas... Dude, my heart can’t handle the changes”

Keith mentally thanked Lance for trying to stick up for him. He wasn’t the world’s greatest fiancé, yet he felt better that Lance thought he was good enough for him. His fiancé had more to say on the matter

“You two keep picking on Keith. He’s awkward and he’s a little emo, but he makes me happy. We could get engaged in a room so dingy that Jesus couldn’t save it, and I’d still be happy”

Hunk waved his arm, kind of weirdly and kind of as if he were trying to gesture “how big this was”. Keith felt his lips turn upwards as Lance pretty much told everyone they’d gotten engaged while away, yet none of their friends would put two and two together

“But as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always been a sucker for those big movie engagement scenes”

“Movies aren’t real life. Matt, that box wasn’t any of your business. What were you doing in our room?”

“Helping Shiro and Curtis build your present. We were looking for an adjustable spanner”

Lance leaned back to rest his weight on his hands, bottom lip wobbling

“You know the tools are kept in the laundry, and you know you’re not supposed to be in my room...”

“We were...”

No one messed with Lance’s room, or his bed. Lance washed and changed the sheets alone, swapping the blankets whenever the whim took over

“I don’t care. I’m sorry, but I can’t... I need air”

Keith jumped to his feet before Lance started started struggling to his. As Coran went to help the vampire, Lance slapped his hand away with a sad “sorry”. Moving to Lance’s side, Keith looped his arm around his waist

“You guys can take over playing. No listening in”

[starker-stories]

Seven Dirty Words

@bannedtogetherbingo2020​

Also on AO3

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), James "Rhodey" Rhodes, James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson

Archive Warnings: Underage (peer-to-peer)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, same age au, Peer Sexual Situations, Explicit Language, misogynistic language, Bullying, Bets & Wagers, Pre-Relationship, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Precious Peter Parker, Bad Boy Tony Stark, Protective Tony Stark

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

Peter Parker was the sweetest, most innocent, clearly virgin, flower at Midtown Tech. Utterly clueless to nine-tenths of what was going on around him. He wandered around in fluffy long sweaters, with thumb holes no less. Completely oblivious to anyone who ever took notice of his messy chestnut curls, his honey brown doe eyes, or his very pert little ass. Or who might’ve been paying enough attention to notice how the gym uniform showed off his lean, strong thighs, his broad shoulders and narrow waist, and the fact that his arms were far less delicate than his sweater sleeves indicated. 

All of which were things that Tony Stark definitely took notice of. Tony was the exact opposite of Peter in just about every way. He was an archetypal bad boy. He knew everything that was going on around him. He was aware that everyone thought he was sex on legs, albeit more trouble than he was probably worth — and he was worth a lot of trouble according to the guys he’d been to bed with. He wore his almost black hair in slicked back waves. His eyes were like dark chocolate and almost as bitter. Except when he thought he wasn’t being observed while he was observing pretty Peter Parker.

“You’re drooling on your lunch,” Nat said with an overexaggerated eyeroll.

“Peter isn’t going to give you the time of day,” Steve said. “He knows what you are.”

“Remind me why we let you sit at our table again, Rogers,” Tony said, his voice dripping with disgust. “Oh yeah. You keep my friend Bucky’s cock warm. I’m tellin’ ya Buck, you can do better than a blond himbo.”

Steve got to half-standing before Bucky put his hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder and sat him down. “All right Stark,” Bucky warned. “We’ve had this fight before. Let it go.”

Peter was coming back from the lunch line when he tripped over his own feet just as he was walking past Tony’s table. He managed to catch himself before he hit the ground and save his tray at the same time. But when he stood up and looked to see who's table he’d fallen in front of, he blushed. “Shit,” he muttered quietly, embarrassed, and quickly walked on to the nerds’ table.

Everyone at Tony’s table was wide-eyed to hear the sweet innocent Peter Parker come out with that word.

“Language!” Steve called out.

Tony snickered. “Well, he knows one of the seven.”

“Betcha that’s the only one he knows,” Rhodes said. “Run ’em, Tones.”

“The heavy seven,” Tony said with a smirk. “You think Parker’s got it in him?”

“Nah,” Bucky said. “No way.” “Wanna bet?” Tony said.

“Against who?” Rhodes asked. “We’re all in agreement.”

“Are we?” Tony arched his eyebrow.

“Tony, even you aren’t desperate enough to take that bet,” Nat said.

Tony shrugged. “What’s the odds you’re all gonna give me?”

“What are the words?” Steve said, frowning, trying to think of all the words he never said, despite being allowed to sit at the bad kids’ table and being boyfriends with Bucky-swears-like-an-army-sergeant-Barnes.

“Fewer than you think,” Tony snorted. “Seven. That’s all. The ones you can never say on TV, ever.”

“Goddamn?” Steve posited. “That one of them?”

The table laughed.

“No, babe. But what, specifically, are they?” Bucky asked. “I can think of three… maybe four.”

“Shit piss fuck cunt cocksucker motherfucker and tits,” Tony said, very fast.

Rhodey laughed. They’d found an old comedy album, probably once belonging to Howard, up in Tony’s attic.

“No way,” Nat scoffed. “Pretty perfect prissy Peter Parker…” Tony gave her a sideways glare, “…will never say all seven of those words. I’ll believe maybe five. But the other two? Never.”

“Which other two,” Clint asked her, puzzled look on his face. Nat leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Yep. No way he says all seven.”

“Rhodey, make us a spread,” Tony said, passing his graph notebook over. “Number of words each of us wagers that he’ll say, over time. Max time, one month. Betting open only to this table. Give us odds and everyone place your bets. Keep it quiet, guys. You’ll ruin the experiment. Skews the result when the subject knows and no one else in this school can keep their damn mouths shut.”

“Meddling allowed?” Clint asked.

“Sure. As long as it’s not a direct prompt and as long as you don’t tell Parker. One of you clues him in, the game ends and all bets are mine by default,” Tony warned.

∼∼∼∼∼

“Oh, fuck you, Barton!” Nat yelled down the hall at top volume when she was standing next to Peter.

“You shouldn’t say that,” Peter chided, hand on his hip. “Some of the freshmen at this school are early entrants and too young to hear you say that word.”

“Yeah, I know. ‘Barton’ is a dirty fucking word,” she scowled.

“No. Not his name. The other word.”

“What other word, Parker?” Nat turned, smirking at him.

“You know! There are kids here.”

“No, I don’t know. Enlighten me, Parker. What fucking word should I eliminate from my motherfucking vocabulary,” she said, going for two.

“‘Fuck’,” Peter hissed quietly. “Jess is only eleven. Her locker’s next to mine. Thankfully she doesn’t come to her locker between second and third period.”

“God, Parker.” Nat shook her head before chasing after Clint. “Hold the FUCK up!”

“I got fuck out of him,” she told Clint and Tony when she caught up to them.

“Corroboration?” Tony asked.

“I heard it,” Bucky said. “Everyone with two, moves on. That’s you out, gorgeous,” he said to Steve and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I wouldn’t have thought it,” Steve said, shaking his head sadly. “A lot of people say the s-word when startled. I didn’t hold that against Peter. But the f-word?”

Tony sputtered a laugh. “Bucky, does he ever swear when you’re f-wording him?”

Steve blushed as red as the stripes on his American flag notebook.

“Best I ever got was a little light blasphemy,” Bucky said, draping his arm over Steve’s shoulder and pulling him in for a kiss. “Or maybe I really am god.”

“Let me at America’s ass and I bet I could get an f-word or two outta him,” Tony leered.

Steve stepped back. Even though he had a good four inches and thirty pounds on Tony, Tony was a dirty fighter. Steve found that out the hard way. So he left it to Bucky to defend his honor. Which he did.

Bucky wasn’t a clean fighter either and had height on Tony. But Tony wasn’t just a dirty fighter, he could be down right nasty when he thought he was losing. By the time five teachers and the coach managed to break it up, both of them were bleeding. And both of them got a three day suspension.

∼∼∼∼∼

Once the so-called ‘f-word’ passed Peter’s lips, it did so again, same as the s-word had. Always said very quietly when Peter was utterly exasperated with a situation.

Clint, Bucky, Rhodey, and Steve (reluctantly), boxed Peter in against the wall when Peter was carrying a hall pass.

“Heading somewhere?” Bucky asked.

“The bathroom,” Peter said nervously.

“Why? Gonna take a bath?

“Please let me pass.”

“Pass where? Where’s that pass for?” Clint asked, moving in closer, making the box tighter.

“The lavatory,” Peter tried a different word.

“Lavatory… derived from the Latin lavare by way of the medieval Latin lavatorium, meaning wash basin,” Rhodey droned, imitating the school’s boring Latin teacher. “Going to wash your hands, Parker?”

He was even more intimidating than usual. Thursdays were his Air Force JROTC days. Which he somehow managed to stay in, despite being best friends with Tony Stark. It helped that Tony took the blame/credit for any hijinks that Rhodey got himself into.

“Fuck,” Peter muttered. “I need to go to the ba… I need to pee.”

Clint was prepared. He opened his notebook and pulled out a cut-out paper letter ‘P’. “You need a P?” he asked, tossing it at Peter.

Clint, Rhodey, and Bucky all had three-plus words in the pool. Steve got dragged along because Bucky insisted, even though he was out of the race.

“Guys, please.”

“Please what, Parker?” Bucky asked. His black eye was an ugly yellow and the ragged cut on his forehead only made him look more menacing.

“I need to… piss,” Peter finally said.

“Shit, son, why didn’t you just say so,” Rhodey said, stepping out of Peter’s way, laughing. “Hope you make it, Parker.”

“Skirtin’ close to the rules on that one,” Tony drawled.

“Didn’t prompt him,” Clint said.

“He doesn’t know,” Bucky added.

“Game still on,” Rhodey said, unfolding the graph of the spread. “Three plus advancing. Which is everyone. Bucky has six. I have four. Clint and Nat have five. Steve’s out. And Tony’s in for all seven.”

Tony walked off saying, “Should’a made everyone list which ones they were counting toward their total.”

“Should’a, but you didn’t,” Rhodey said with a nod, following him.

“Or made him have to say them in order,” Clint said, trailing behind, sharing shop class with the other two.

“But you didn’t,” Nat chimed in, joining from the other hall.

∼∼∼∼∼

“Everybody’s gotta have at least an ounce of cool in them. Even you, Parker,” Rhodey said, giving Peter a friendly smile, falling into step beside him. They shared AP Spanish.

Peter blushed and looked down. Of the bad boys, which included one bad girl, Rhodes was the nicest, the bathroom incident notwithstanding. “I promise you, James, I am completely lacking.”

“Nah, kid.” They were the same age. “You gotta have an ounce in there somewhere. You ever see Pulp Fiction?”

“Yes,” Peter admitted. “Ned’s older brother likes it.”

“See!” Rhodes said brightly. “One ounce. I was thinking of taking drama. You wanna do a scene with me?”

Peter giggled. “I’m not in drama.”

“Yeah, but I really need to get expressing fear down. I’m having trouble with emotions. Carol, who is in drama, says you have to do exercises in emotions. She’s into drama and I’m into her. Only, fear is hard for me. But there’s a great fear scene in Pulp Fiction. You be Jules, I’ll be Brett.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if…”

Rhodes quirked an accusing eyebrow. “Are you saying that I have to be Jules?”

“No… no. It’s just… Jules has more lines.”

“I know, that’s what makes it hard. I have to show fear just using one word. If I do that for tryouts, it’ll really impress her. Do you remember the scene?”

“Uh huh.”

“Fantastic!” Rhodey grinned. “You start it with: ‘What does Marcellus Wallace look like?’ Can you take it on your own from there?”

“Uh… yeah, I remember it.” Peter sighed. “It’s Ron’s favorite movie. We have to sit through it, and not tell Ned’s mom, if we want to watch anything that we want to.”

“Okay then. Go.”

Peter bit his lip. He wasn’t any kind of an actor, but all he had to do was say his lines and James would react to them. He didn’t have to act the lines. It was nice that James was being friendly to him. On his own, away from (the not at all hot and sexy) Tony Stark’s influence, James had always seemed nice.

“What does Marcellus Wallace look like?” Peter said quietly.

Rhodey quivered his lip in fear. “What?”

“What country are you from,” Peter said the next line very much like a shy white boy and very much unlike a table-throwing Samuel L. Jackson.

“Wh… wha… what?” Rhodes was hamming it up. A small group had gathered but kept their distance, not wanting to risk interrupting the ridiculous-looking drama.

“That isn’t a country I’ve heard of.” Peter corrected Tarantino's grammar. “Do they speak English in What?”

“What?” Rhodey managed to look terrified.

“English, motherfucker, do you speak it,” Peter said meekly, being quiet on the swear word.

The collected group and Rhodey burst into laughter. “There’s your ounce of cool for the day.” He turned and bowed to the crowd. “Courtesy of one Peter B. Parker.” Everyone headed off to class so as not to miss the bell. Peter was quiet and near tears during Spanish.

After the class let out, Tony was waiting down the hall. He grabbed Rhodey by the shirt collar and dragged him into the bathroom, pushing him up against the wall. “You’re a prick,” he hissed.

Rhodey shrugged. “He’s your boyfriend, not mine.” Tony let go and he straightened out his shirt. “Got the word. That’s four. Which means I’m out if he says one more. I was doing you a favor.”

Tony pushed past Rhodey, kicking the door open. “Don’t do me anymore!”

∼∼∼∼∼

The table didn’t have to do anything to get the next word out of Peter. That came courtesy of Flash Thompson. Popular, bully, but never quite making the cut for the table. Flash bullied Peter, the table bullied Flash. Shit rolled downhill just like the gods intended.

“You know you do, Penis.”

“Just leave me alone, Flash,” Peter sighed, tired of listening to the other boy.

“You’d totally do it for Tony Stark. You’d beg him for it.”

Peter turned bright red. He turned to walk away but ran into Clint and Nat, who were making out against the lockers. “Sorry.”

“Did you hear something?” Nat said.

“Nothing worth noticing, honey.”

“Shut the fuck up, Barton.” Nat shut him up with a kiss.

“You’d trip over your own two feet to get on your knees if Stark so much as looked at you,” Flash taunted.

Clint and Nat broke their kiss just long enough to give the other a curious look.

Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Shut the fuck up, Flash,” he said, in quiet imitation of Nat.

Flash spun Peter around, putting his back to his locker and punched him in the gut. “Say it, Penis.” He grabbed Peter’s shoulders, standing him back up and slamming him into the lockers. “If you won’t do it, say, ‘I’m not a cocksucker’ and maybe I’ll believe you. Say it or I’ll tell everyone you are.” He pulled his fist back, threatening another punch.

Peter had tears welling in his eyes. “I’m not a cocksucker,” he said, sniffling.

Flash’s hands were suddenly pulled off Peter’s shoulders because he was yanked away into the middle of the hall. Tony’s fist shot up, catching him on his jaw, sending Flash sprawling, unconscious, on the floor.

“Who cares, Parker?” Tony said nonchalantly. “I suck dick if the guy’s cute enough and lets me fuck him. Got a problem with that?” Tony asked the crowd gathered to see the (very brief) fight.

Everyone shuffled away, heads down, making denials about caring. And no one had seen what happened to Flash when the teachers came asking.

∼∼∼∼∼

“We’ve got five. That leaves Nat and Clint on the cliff’s edge. Only Buck and Tone standing firm,” Rhodey said, marking off the sheet.

“You’ll never get the last two out of him,” Nat said. “He’s friends with that Jones chick. She’s one of those uber-feminists. If he says them, she’ll cut him a new asshole.”

“I gotta agree with Nat on this one,” Clint said.

“Of course you do,” Tony scoffed. “Otherwise you’re gonna have to come to me or Bucky if you wanna get your ass fucked.”

“That was one time!” Clint objected. “Even Deadpool got pegged in that movie. And he liked it.”

That sent the table laughing, even Nat, said wearer of the strap.

“You wouldn’t,” Steve said, shooting Bucky a look.

“Nah babe. You’ve got exclusive rights to my cock. You keep him more than happy.” He and Steve made out sloppily for a while. “Tony’s gotta take care of Barton’s ass all on his own if he pisses off Nat too much.”

Tony shrugged. “I’m not into straight guys, but to help a buddy out, I’d make the sacrifice.”

Clint threw his water bottle across the table at Tony, hitting the center of his forehead with the cap end with pinpoint accuracy. It sent Tony sprawling out of his chair, nearly braining him unconscious.

“Barbarians shouldn’t go up against Rangers,” Rhodey said.

“We should send Rhodes to the nerd table.” Steve said. You played D and D? Wait. Stark was a barbarian? He played too?” Steve started laughing.

“I was not a barbarian. I was a rogue. And we were fucking ten. Your boyfriend was the barbarian,” Tony smirked, climbing back into his chair. “Barton was a ranger, Nat a wizard, and Rhodey was the barbarian. You, Rogers, were probably picking your nose in third grade, since you’re only a frosh. We’re seniors and you’re fifteen like the rest of us.”

“Lay off, Tony,” Bucky warned. “Or I’ll start running through your own list of dumb blonds.” He realized what he said. “Of which my dear Steven is not one.”

“Even Parker’s a senior,” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, we all know your princess’ grade. And his class schedule. And what fucking color of fluffy sweater he wore yesterday,” Steve shot back.

“Ask him out already,” Nat said.

“So he can reject you,” Clint added.

“And we don’t have to hear about him anymore,” Rhodey finished.

“Game’s still on, losers,” Tony said, pushing away from the table, sporting a perfectly circular red spot on his forehead.

∼∼∼∼∼

The next word was also a freebie. Drawn out, in a literal sense of the word, by the person the table never would’ve expected.

Peter was sitting at the nerds’ table. Which was now next to the bad kids’ table. Tony’s group had been moving steadily up toward the back of the lunch room since the game began. Hoping to overhear more words, or get the opportunity to provoke them. These last two they all, even Tony, expected would take work.

They never would’ve guessed that one Michelle Jones would make Peter say one of those words.

MJ held up her sketchbook. Peter sputtered and laughed.

“I don’t get it?” Ned said, looking at the picture of a girl with two tiny yellow chested birds on either hand, held up in front of her.

“Are you three?” Peter asked MJ.

With a straight face she answered, “I don’t know what you mean, Parker.”

Peter rolled his eyes. He did it almost as good as Tony did. The corners of MJ’s mouth twitched up just a little.

“I still don’t get it.” Ned said, looking closer. “It’s Cinderella, right?”

“No,” Peter said laughing still.

“What is it!?” Ned was getting annoyed at not being in on the joke.

“It’s a drawing of a girl with two birds,” MJ said.

“How is that funny?”

“They’re a pair of great tits,” Peter said, turning red.

Ned’s mouth gaped open and he stared at the picture.

“Get a good look, Leeds,” MJ said deadpan. “Only time you’ll see a pair.”

“That’s mean,” Peter said, swatting MJ’s arm.

“They’re not common birds in North America,” MJ said. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Parker.”

∼∼∼∼∼

To their credit, the table managed not to crack up until they got outside for a smoke break. The non-smokers always tagged along with Tony, Nat, and Bucky.

“Fuck,” Clint said. “I’d’a sworn he never would’ve said that.”

“Should it count?” Nat argued. “He wasn’t talking about tits.”

“Yes he was,” Bucky said, laughing. “Only way a boy that gay is gonna ever mention them.”

“Oh shut up. You’re that gay and you’re always talking about mine for some god only knows reason,” Nat said. “You’re just upset because you lost. But I’m gonna win. You’ll never get the last one out of him, Tony,” Bucky said. “No one else is gonna help you, either. Not with that word.”

“Leave the last word to me,” Tony smirked.

∼∼∼∼∼

“Peter,” Tony said, leaning against the locker next to the boy’s. He was only going to go for getting the word. But Peter was wearing the dark yellow sweater that went so well with his eyes. It distracted him.

Peter sighed heavily. “Whatever you’re doing, just leave me out of it, okay? Your best friend already had his fun.”

“The only reason he didn’t leave the bathroom head first is because we’ve been friends since first grade. Otherwise I’d’a laid him out like that wannabe, Thompson.”

“Yeah, right,” Peter said skeptically.

“I’d…” Tony hesitated. Tony never hesitated. “You wanna go out with me?” he finally asked in a rush.

“Huh?” Peter blinked, stunned. Then he came to his senses. “Great joke. Which of them put you up to this? Is there some kind of bet going on?”

“For me to ask you out? No.” Tony was offended. Sure, there was a bet, but not for this. He could get the word out of Peter without asking him out. “It’s… I think… you’re…” God he was stuttering as badly as Parker did. “I think you’re pretty,” Tony said, looking away.

“This is cruel, Tony,” Peter said, sadly. “Even for you. Half the school’s probably knows I have a crush on you, if Flash noticed.”

“You have a crush on me? Why?” He was dumbfounded.

Peter turned to face Tony and leaned his shoulder against his locker. “Because I don’t think this is who you are.”

Tony scoffed. “Yeah, Pete. This is who I am.”

“Okay, then.” Peter looked up, meeting Tony’s eye. “I don’t think this is all of who you are.”

“You don’t know me,” Tony sighed.

“If you asking me out isn’t a joke or a bet, maybe I could get to?” Peter stepped closer so he could speak quietly. “I promise you, there’s more to you than this, Anthony.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth. It hung there a moment and then he closed it with an audible pop. He cocked his head to the side and examined Peter like he was some rare specimen of butterfly. And wondered why he hadn’t walked away. Or done worse. “It’s not a joke,” he said quietly. His plan for winning just flew out the window. “There isn’t a bet.”

Peter smirked. He leaned back again, far enough away that he had to speak conversationally for Tony to hear him.

“Then kiss me, you dumb cunt.”

[kurinhimenezu]

|Halaga[Worth]|

Part 1/2

[Kaminari Denki] BNHA

Kaminari sighed at the sight before him as he wrapped a shoulder around your shoulder. 

As per usual, he was used to this type of scene. 

Umiiyak ka nanaman ( you’re crying again) 

Langya talaga wala ka bang ibang alam (goddammit is this the only thing you know?) 

Namumugtong mga mata (your eyes are so puffy) 

Kailan pa ba kaya ikaw magsasawa (When will you get sick of it?) 

You came knocking at his door after another one of your fights with your boyfriend. Kaminari cringed at the thought. He still wonders how you two lasted a year. 

He resumed rubbing your back in comfort after he offered you a glass of water to rehydrate. You hiccuped slightly before continuing your tirade of rants about your ‘supposed love’,according to you. It would’ve been easy to say to just leave the guy, the problem was your boyfriend was Bakugo Katsuki. Contrary to popular belief he does like living and not being blasted to pieces. 

Sa problema mo iyong pinapasan (the problems you shoulder)

Hatid sayo ng boyfriend hindi mo maintindihan (brought to you by your boyfriend you can’t understand)

May kwento kang pandrama na naman (you have a dramatic story to tell again) 

You and Bakugo had been dating for a year and ever since, had been like a soap opera his mother used to watch when he was a kid. 

“I just don’t understand..with how long we’ve been together, you think he’d be okay with us at least holding hands in public..or a kiss on the cheek..or anything really! I know being a hero is important too but can’t just waste your years away like that..you need a break too right Denki??” 

Kaminari nodded along as he handed you a tissue to blow your nose in. It was true Bakugo had been training harder since they were in their 2nd year..but that doesn’t mean he should ignore you. 

He sighed again as you leaned against his shoulder. 

“Bakubro’s an idiot, want me to shock him for you lil mama?” He grinned as you laughed, giving the other a hug.  “I don’t want you to die, you dunce!” 

“Well I can’t just leave my best friend hanging like this, how about we go to that new crepe place you’ve been bugging me to come with tomorrow? My treat” He smiled, heart stuttering as you looked up at him, eyes sparkling. He always did think you were beautiful. He thought you were pretty but now…

“I would love to but..I promised Bakugo to train with him tomorrow..” 

Kaminari gripped his pant leg to prevent his body from deflating. It’s like this now, ever since, Bakugo has been taking much of your time. “It’s cool! Next time then alright?” 

He stiffened when he heard you sniffle slightly, ‘Ah shit did I-’

“I have standards babe-wait who told you I was like Mineta?!” 

“You’re such an understanding friend Denkichu! You’re not like Mineta like they say!”

“...no one you should be worried about” 

“Bruh” 

He ignored the twinge at his heart when you left his room with a wave. 

Parang pang TV na walang katapusan (like a tv show with no end)

Hanggang kailan ka bang ganyan (when will you be like this?) 

Hindi mo ba alam na walang pupuntahan (don’t you know there’s no point) 

Ang pagtiyaga mo dyan sa boyfriend mong tanga (in your wasted patience on your idiot boyfriend)

Na wala nang ginawa kundi ang paluhain ka (that does nothing but make you cry) 

Staring at the posters on his ceiling, Kaminari recalled how you looked when you told him the news. You looked so happy, you were sparkling. One of your sparkles probably hit Aoyama (mon dieu!). He can’t blame you for crushing on the explosive blonde. Bakugo was dirven, he knows what he wants and works hard to get them. Even when he seems cold and angry all the time, there were moments where he really does care about his friends. Flashing back to the aftermath of the Kamino incident. Bakugo paid back Kirishima because he bought those expensive binoculars and asked him if he could fry his brain slightly to be ‘dunce face’ to make the class laugh away the tension. 

‘Bakugo is a good guy..just an idiot when it comes to being social’ 

Kaminari rolled to his side and pulled out the picture of you and him from under his pillow. You had your arms around his neck as you laughed at the camera. He had ice cream on his cheek from your surprise picture. 

He smiled at the picture sadly, rubbing a thumb on your side of the picture. Kaminari placed the picture beside his head and closed his eyes. Who was he to meddle in your relationship?

He would love you the way you deserved to be loved. 

Sa libu-libong pagkakataon na tayo’y nagkasama (of the hundreds of times that we’re together) 

Iilang ulit palang kitang makitang masaya (I’ve only seen you happy a handle of times) 

Naiinis akong isipin na ginaganyan ka nya (I get annoyed thinking of how he treats you) 

Siguro ay hindi niya lang alam ang iyong (Maybe he just doesn’t know your) 

Tunay na halaga (true worth) 

Kaminari sat in the classroom, sneakily playing a game on his phone as they all waited for Aizawa to enter. Iida was already on his ass about pulling out his phone, he doesn’t feel like getting nagged so early in the morning. He stretched his back as he kept his dying phone back in his pocket. ‘Gotta remember to charge it later’ 

His eyes caught you walking through the room doors. You smiled at him with a small wave before walking past him to your desk. Just as he was about to turn around to talk to you, Bakugo stood up and marched towards your desk. He caught your frown slowly melt into a small relieved smile. A small ‘okay’ leaving past your lips as the ash-blonde hooked your pinkies together. 

Kaminari bit his lip and turned his gaze down on his desk. 

“Bro you need to grow a pair and be manly with your feelings!” 

He jolts, sparking up his body slightly. “Dude! For being known to be a wall of muscle you can be pretty fucking quiet” Kaminari huffed, righting himself. 

Kirishima let out a laugh, smacking the blonde at his back. 

“Sorry about that man, but it’s true anyway right? You like her? Why not tell her how you feel? She’s been your friend the longest, she’ll understand. (Y/n) isn’t the type of person to just dump a good friend” 

Kaminari frowned slightly, watching you get flustered at whatever Bakugo is saying. “I guess but..” 

Sero popped in beside the redhead and flicked the blonde’s forehead. “Mina is betting you wouldn’t confess to her bro, come ooonn my allowance is on the line!” 

“Assholes” He grinned. “Maybe..but they look so happy together” 

Kirishima looked up and winced, “Spoke too soon “ 

Just as he said that, Bakugo came steaming past them and back to his seat. Kirishima sighed, hanging his head. “Wonder what he said this time.. I gotta go guys”

Kaminari and Sero sent prayers towards him to stop Bakugo from exploding the redhead. 

Just like him, Kirishima became the shoulder to cry on when the angry pomeranian had another fight with you. 

Kaminari felt bad at the lovesick and hopeless gaze the redhead was giving the ash-blonde.

‘Is that what I look like when I stare at (y/n)?’ Before he could go up and check on you, Aizawa entered the room. 

'Next time...'

Tags!

@thedreadthreadanomaly @quirkless-fics @sadistiks @savnofilter @nashiexo @tooloudarts