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strangernstranger · 2 years ago

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Secrets

Eddie x Fem Reader request

Summary: Could Eddie’s good intentions really be the downfall of you both? Tempers rise when reader suspects Eddie has been keeping their relationship a secret as a means to sneak around with Chrissy Cunningham as well.

Inbox is open for requests! ———

“What are you doing?” Eddie crept to the doorway, hearing the sounds of dresser drawers slam.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m packing my shit.” You didn’t spare him a glance, you just continued stuffing your belongings into a bag. Eddie shuffled towards you in utter confusion. He had just made it back from practicing with his band to find you in his room like this.

“HEY hey, why are you- what’s wrong, sweetheart?” Eddie’s brows pinched together with concern. “Talk to me. Please?” He gently placed his hand on your shoulder. You tore away from his touch as if it could burn you. Eddie’s face further contorted into a pained expression realizing he was somehow at the core of this. He hadn’t seen you since yesterday. What could’ve changed over night?

“I’m tired, Eddie. I tired of sneaking around because YOU don’t want us to be seen together.”

“Y/N, I’ve already explained it to you. If you risk letting people know we’re together, you risk everything. You-Your reputation…” He stammered, hoping you would finally just accept that this is the way things needed to be. He hated the thought of you receiving the same treatment he endured on a daily basis. Eddie’s skin had grown thick over the years but he worried how the scrutiny of others would affect you.

“Who fucking cares about a reputation!? Do you really think that shit matters to me? What matters to me is you. But you seem perfectly fine keeping me in the dark. A dirty little secret you hide in your bed every other night.”

“NO. It’s not like that!” He couldn’t believe you’d actually think that.

“Is it like that with Chrissy?” You stopped dead in your tracks, looking at Eddie for the first time since all this started. Your eyes burning holes through the man you once considered yours. You wanted to see the look on his face when you said her name.

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

“Chrissy Cunningham. I saw you two yesterday. You snuck out into the woods and she followed.”

“That must mean I’m fucking her then, right?” Eddie scoffed. “It was a drug deal y/n! She’s clientele.”

“Yea? Do you typically bring clients home with you?” You crossed your arms over your chest to conceal your shaking hands. Eddie’s doe eyes startled as if caught in the lights of an oncoming truck. The realization of how that must’ve came across settled in with the sinking feeling that he was moments away from disaster. “You opened the door and let her right in.” You sneered a smile, watching Eddie grip his hair at the roots. You thought you’d surprise him after his meeting with the Hellfire club. You never thought you’d pull up to see him bringing another girl home. You were disgusted. Eddie sat down on the mattress, racking his brain on how to explain himself, already feeling overwhelmed.

“Y/N…it wasn’t like that. You gotta believe me.” He punctuated the word as if it would drive the point home but you weren’t having any of it. There would be no convincing you. You saw if for yourself. “She was only here for-“

“It’s never what it looks like, is it, Eddie?” You cut him off saving his breath and your own time.

“Y/N PLEASE-“

“NO! Do you really think I’m so naive that I’d take any ol’ excuse? That you can just say I’m wrong and I’ll fall happily into your arms?”

“Will you just shut up and let me explain!?” Eddie shouted, clearly distressed. His legs bounced anxiously. His hands shook in his lap. You were irate. Heat flushed behind your cheeks. It was as if a switch flipped in your brain and you could barely contain your resentment anymore. You thought Eddie was someone you could trust. In fact, you were actually falling for him. It hurt you that he wanted to keep things secret. Still, you were willing to accept that if it meant you could have him. But the thought of him sneaking around with Chrissy Cunningham, the perky cheerleader, Hawkins High’s sweetheart, it broke you in ways you couldn’t imagine possible. Another girl. Another secret.

“Fucking cheat! LIAR!” You began tossing your clothes at him harshly, one by one. Eddie jerked his hands up to block the projectiles. He was growing angrier by the second. Angrier with every harsh word you spit at him. His breaking point was rapidly approaching. “You’re a condescending, lying, prick, Eddie Munson!”

“Yea? And you’re a jealous, fucking bitch!” He finally snapped, rising to his feet. “You wanna say hurtful shit? We can do that. You are so goddamn insecure, it’s pathetic. I didn’t fuck Chrissy. I don’t WANT to fuck Chrissy. I was selling her drugs! That’s IT!” His face was red. The veins in his neck prominent from the strain of yelling. “Can you get that through that little head of yours and cut the know it all bullshit already!?” You stood there dumbfounded. Eddie had never raised his voice to you. Your eyes began to sting with tears.

“Karma is gonna bite you in the ass, Eddie. And I hope to God I’m there when it happens.” You managed to choke out. The lump in your throat grew with each passing second.

“Do you really think that little of me?” Eddie’s voice wavered, pained by your distrust. “You really think I’d spend every second with you I could, introduce you to my friends, give you a key to my house if I was just using you? Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N!”

Your body vibrated, tears you tried so desperately to stave off finally breaking free. You wanted to believe in him, but you saw it with your own eyes. Could you really have misread things so gravely or was it all a lie? You couldn’t answer him.

“If that’s really how you feel, then GO! HERE, I’ll help you pack!” Eddie grabbed the remainder of your clothes and furious stuffed them into your bag before tossing it to the floor. “Just get the fuck out of my house.” He turned his back to you, running his hands through his hair. His vision blurring with unshed tears he didn’t want you to see. You choked back your sobs as you picked up the bag. You spoke no goodbye. You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

———

You cried the entire drive home, catching glances of your glossy, bloodshot eyes in the rear view. The possibility that you were wrong dug deeper and deeper with every mile that passed. The further from Eddie you drove, the harder his words hit. They played on a loop in your head. You weren’t sure who fucked it all up, you or Eddie but there was no saving it now. No taking back what was said.

Meanwhile Eddie sat in silence, fully taking in your absence. Empty hangers in his closet where your clothes used to be. A vacant space on his nightstand where you used to keep your books. The ones he’d beg you to read to him as he was falling asleep. How could you think he would touch another girl? You were all he ever wanted. The more he thought on it, the worse he felt. You thought he was ashamed of you when truthfully, you were the best thing about his life. He was only trying to protect you. Keeping things a secret was meant to shield you from the cruelty of others. But then he turned around and hurt you worse than anyone else could manage. What you needed was reassurance. Instead he berated and belittled you for being genuinely hurt. He dropped his head into his hands, holding back tears. He had to find a way to fix this but he was sure you wouldn’t talk to him again. Not after what he said. He thought on it all night. Time was abundant since sleep was scarce. Every time he’d close his eyes to rest, he’d see your face. Eyes red. Broken. Betrayed. You two needed to talk about it, but that would take some convincing of course…

———

You dragged yourself out of bed. You combed your hair and brushed your teeth like you always did. You followed the same monotonous routine you followed every morning before school. But things felt heavier than usual. There was a weight on your shoulders, waiting for the perfect moment to break you. Still, you sucked it up and caught the bus. Staying home only meant you’d dwell on things.

Eddie’s chair was empty during first period which wasn’t entirely uncommon but given the events from the night before, you wondered why. Would seeing you break his heart or just piss him off? It was all for the better. Seeing him would collapse the collected veneer you were trying so desperately to uphold. You tried putting Eddie out of your mind to the best of your ability and focusing on your assignments.

Back at Eddie’s, the numbers on the clock blinked red ‘10:07AM’

“SHIT! SHIIIIT!” He had overslept after finally drifting off around 4AM. He discarded his blankets in a flourish and launched himself off the bed, clumsily stepping into whatever jeans were closest to him. He rushed down the steps of his trailer, making a b-line for his van. He had to make a little stop before heading to the school…

He burst through the cafeteria doors, practically breathless. A few students jumped in surprise. Others rolled their eyes, assuming he was up to his usual antics.

“Y/N?” An unintentional shout. The room went silent. Eddie zeroed in on your almost immediately. Your heart beat quickened, eyes locked with his as he made his way to you. You hardly noticed that everyone else was staring as well, watching the scene unfurl. Your eyes drifted to the hand Eddie held behind his back, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers. “They’re uh- they’re for you.” Your eyes shined bright with disbelief, on the verge of tears. Words escaped you, so Eddie continued on. “I don’t really know what flowers are good, so I tried to get your favorite colors instead.” Eddie’s smile was nervous, but hopeful. He reached the bouquet out to you. You lightly touched petals colored in violet and magenta. He remembered?

“Th-thank you?” You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture although you were still taken aback by it all. This was Eddie’s first public display of affection which of course garnered an audience for the two of you. Your eyes darted around the room, hearing whispers from the other students. You glanced over to Chrissy, curiosity getting the better of you. There she sat with dreamy, bright eyes. As if she were watching a scene from a televised romance. She looked happy. Happy for you. Happy for Eddie. Not at all like a scorned lover or a burned out flame. Eddie took your hand in his.

“Can we please talk?” His doe eyes melted away at the animosity you felt just earlier.

“Looks like the Freak got himself a girlfriend.” Jason jeered from the jock’s table, laughs following.

“Maybe somewhere a little more private?” Eddie sighed, not even phased by the attention. It was new to you but already insignificant.

———

You followed Eddie out to the football field. The spring air was cool but the sun provided just enough warmth. You sat together on the bleachers. You stared at your shoes while Eddie fumbled with his rings.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” He grumbled. He dipped his head low enough that his hair concealed his face. “I just couldn’t believe you’d actually think I would even look at someone else the way I look at you. I promise you, y/n, I swear on my life, we were just making a deal. She asked for something stronger while we were in the woods. I-I didn’t have it, it was back at my place. She caught a ride with me, I gave her the stuff and I drove her back home. That’s all it was.”

“I believe you, Eddie. I’m sorry I freaked out. I feel like such an asshole now.” A tear slipped down your cheek, embarrassed by your behavior from the night before. Eddie lifted his hand to wipe it away.

“Hey, no more crying, okay? Everything is fine now. I don’t blame you for getting mad. I would’ve lost my shit if I saw you bringing another guy home.” You placed your hand on his knee. “Why didn’t you just tell me about the deal before hand?” Eddie huffed realizing that would've saved you both a lot of hurt.

“Um, because I’m an idiot? Selling drugs is a quick way to earn cash but it’s not really something I’m proud of, Y’know? I just thought it would be better if I kept you out of that portion of my life. It felt like I was doing the right thing at the time…but like I said…idiot.” He breathed a laugh, admiring your small upturned smile.

“Eddie? No more secrets. If I didn’t think I could handle it I would’ve left a long time ago. You gotta stop acting like I need to be sheltered from you. From your life. I want this, okay? I want you.” Eddie placed his hand over yours giving it a tight squeeze.

“No more secrets, promise.” He looped his pinky with yours. A subtle gesture the two of you often shared. “I’ll tell you everything. Y/n, I was never ashamed of you. Not for a second. The day you kissed me before that pep rally? I had to stop myself from running across the court and yanking that microphone out of Jason’s hands to tell everyone about it.” You laughed at the thought. “I mean it! No one else makes me as stupid as you do.” Eddie snaked his arm around your waist and moved in close, relieved you would allow him to hold you in his arms again. “But no more hiding. Tell me the time and place, I’ll be there to kiss you breathless.” He buried his face into your neck, smiling against your skin in between kisses. You pushed against his chest, laughing at the sensation. “There’s no one else for me, sweetheart. It’s you and only you.”

#Eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #eddie Munson requests

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karrenseely · 9 months ago

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Oh gods, not again.

I've been stuck in my head this week. A new epiphany rocked my world again. My hormones were adjusted recently. About a year ago... I think, I was started on a progesterone cycle. And very quickly I found myself having a desire to explore my body. The really significant dysphoria I was having around my hips, my shoulders, my voice. They didn't bother me as much as they had before. And then. Then I started to have some libido. That was weird and wonderful. My body did things for me I'd never experienced before. It was pleasurable and interesting, and I was feeling less and less like an imposter and more like the woman I am. I know I was also doing a lot of work in therapy as well. Working through the shame and conditioning I'd incorporated into myself that being a woman, being feminine was bad, liking anything girly was bad at best, perverted at worst. And I started to be a little more ok with myself. I wanted to explore the girly things and was finally allowing myself to do so. I even felt sexy sometimes, I think having never experienced those feelings before I'm still not sure if that's what that feeling is or not. I got back into make up, I learned how to paint my nails, I really started enjoying creating outfits and feeling like I was looking good. I was getting in touch with that feminine part of me that I had been suppressing because even though I had transitioned, parts of me were still convinced being feminine was bad, being feminine made me a pervert even though I was a woman. Yes, I know, there's a great deal of cognitive dissonance going on in my brain. And while I was doing these things at some point the little girl in me who'd been crying and along all her life had had enough of being shut away and forced me to let her out, and I got stuck in the past and had a severe bout of CPTSD/Depression putting me out of work for the last 4 months. But doing these things, was self care and when I was able to do them, it helped lift me up some.

I still know very little about hair care, I still for the life of me, have no idea how to do a good tight simple braid without it going off to one side at best, being really loose at worst. You know all the things that I should have learned growing up, that my sister got to learn because it was ok for her to be a girl for some reason and not me.

I love my sister, I don't blame her for choosing to side with my parents, she wasn't facing a choice of death or losing her entire family, she was just faced with losing a sibling or her entire family. Understandably she chose her entire family. I don't think they abused her, at least not the way they did me. She is my younger sister. But when my parents broke me and I just couldn't continue growing and got stuck around age 15, she started to be more like a big sister. I looked up to her. She was good at school, with really good grades, she was popular, she played in marching band, she had lots of friends. And I wished so much that I could be like her. I wanted to be close to her, but I was so terrified of anyone learning my secret and in my head in order to play that role forced on me, meant I was supposed to fight with her. And everytime I beat myself up over it, because I knew I'd destroyed another chance to be close. But I was so scared, and I was just trying to survive. And it hurt so much when she called me pervert for borrowing her clothes.

But despite that, she was an amazing sister. Despite my unpopularity, despite everyone sensing something wrong with me and at best avoiding me, at worst torturing me. She invited me to one of the highschool parties her friends had invited her to. It was a wonderful experience. I felt included. I felt like I'd been seen, but not in a bad way. And for a little while I forgot to be afraid that someone would figure out my secret.

Another time she invited me to go with her and her friends cliff diving at Canyon Lake. That was another wonderful memory, and for all the same reasons. During those excursions I felt like I hadn't completely ruined everything with my sister. That maybe she did care, that she did love me despite me being a pervert. They are good memories.

I don't know how I got on the subject of my sister... Oh that's right, she was in Marching Band and learned how to put her hair up in tight crowns of braids. I so wished it would be ok to ask her to teach me that. I wish I hadn't been so afraid of what my parents would do to me if I talked to her about what I was really going through that I actually did talk to her. I dunno, if I'd had the courage to do that, maybe I'd have had an amazing supportive sister. But maybe not. She was part of the church all through high school. And this church was the one that convinced my mom disowning me was what needed to happen, who convinced my mom that my being dead was better than my being trans. So no I probably wouldn't have had that kind of sister then. Still. I miss her and I love her and I don't blame her for what happened.

And I wish I could apologize to her for everything I did, for saying some of the things I did to her. Maybe I'll write a letter of what I wish I could say to her on here at some point.

anyway I went on a tangent. So yes, it's been a dark few months, but I've been exploring and having some fun with my feminine side. I've also been trying to reconnect with the trans community. So far I've not created a solid connection yet, but atleast I'm part of it on reddit, here, and fb, even though I don't really know anyone on there. It's nice to see how things are different and better for a lot of people compared to when I was kid, and it's hard to see that others in my community are suffering like I had to. But we're all on there, and because we are, we're not quite as alone as we used to be.

And so it's helped some, even though I wish I could make some irl trans friends. But at least I don't feel quite so isolated anymore. But the depression was bad, and I was still suicidal and the treatments hadn't started working yet, so my PCP suggested increasing my estrogen a little to see if that would help. And it did. I started to feel even more like myself. I had reduced it a long time ago because if the dose is too high I ended up with heart palpitations... but thankfully I haven't had issues with it this time around. I dunno, maybe it's because I'm also on progesterone as well now.

There is a part of me that is really angry at the medical establishment and the entrenched misogyny there. Angry that they decided that we only need half our hormones. That progesterone was completely unnecessary because it was only useful with pregnancy. Except that it does so much more than that, but the effects are subtle and... well... it was men that were designing the treatments at the beginning and that misogyny bleed through to later generations of doctors. But they robbed me of over two decades of feeling more comfortable in my body, of having a libido. So yes. I'm a bit chuffed with them.

So yes, about a month ago my estrogen was increased. And it helped my mood, and... apparently my libido. I found myself fantasizing about having sex. I'd never done that before, not ever, and certainly not in a pleasurable way. It was good. But also confusing. I felt like I was waking up from a decades long coma and the world had changed. It's only been in the last 7 years that I understood I was asexual. It's only been in the last year or two that I really began to explore what that meant to me. And it was a shock and confusing that I suddenly had interest in sex. What does this mean for my identity? Does it mean I'm not asexual anymore? And also a lot of anxiety because I suck at dating, I don't really know how to do it, or how to meet people in that way. I was pretty happy with the platonic relationship I had, though there were things I wish I could get myself to talk about, to hash out. And now I found myself wanting a physical relationship with someone.

Still trying to figure out how to find that irl. Then in the past 2 weeks something really really really confusing happened. I found myself fantasizing about a man, having a man love me, touch me, and hold me and have sex with me. And really wanting that. I've known a long time I had slight bi tendencies. But not once, not ever did it those tendencies involve a physical relationship... But here I am wanting one. And it's throwing me for a loop. And I find myself wondering if the assholes who thought trans women didn't need progesterone had robbed me of this too for all these years. And so I thought about finding a man to have a relationship with... and that's when I hit a brick wall. I am terrified of having a romantic/physical relationship with men. Absolutely terrified. And I have been for as long as I can remember, I just didn't understand what it was until now. I just avoided thinking about it. Because you know, trauma response. Something makes you uncomfortable avoid it if at all possible.

And I had no idea why. Except I think I know part of it. I have a good idea what men think of, want from, and how they talk about women. Seeing us as objects, not people with our own wants desires and needs. At best seeing us like children. I have seen so many of us killed by men who felt there masculinity was threatened by us because they didn't see us as women, but as men, and the trans men as women being uppity. I've heard what they say about us, because most of these men don't realize I'm trans and say it in my presence. And I remember Tyra Hunter who died while EMT's and Paramedics laughed at her instead of helping her. And then I remember all the times some random guy decided it was ok to sexually assault me.

I'd coped with that last part by believing that all women had been assaulted at some point in there lives... then a redditor said something that made me wonder if I was wrong, and then a reddit bot pointed me to resources when I wrote about those assaults. And then I talked to a DV advocate crisis line, because I was confused and hurting because I mean how could I have been assaulted so many times if it wasn't the normal level of misogyny all women faced? And if it's not normal then why did it happen to me? What more is wrong with me (yes on a rational level I know none of it is my fault but our brains are rarely truly rational). And the DV advocate told me. She told me that it wasn't normal. And suddenly I felt like I'd done something wrong. That I'd deserved what happened because I was an idiot.

And then I asked a reddit group of women if it was true. If it wasn't normal for women to be assaulted. And the first response I got was someone blaming me for what happened, rather than answering my question. And suddenly the little girl in me that has been in so much pain all along surged up and out. And I've been a mess since then and that happened two nights ago I think. But I'm not sure. Anyway, I'm feeling alone, confused, and really stupid. And part of me still has a hard time believing that advocate.

And just before all of this started happening in my head, just as we increased my estrogen, my counselor went on maternity leave, and I don't know who to talk to. And while I'm really happy for her, I'm feeling really lost at the moment. I've started looking for another counselor, but I won't get immediate help even if I saw them tomorrow, because I don't know them, because of my trauma history it is incredibly difficult for me to trust anyone, much less a counselor (my trauma history includes being traumatized by a counselor, a male one at that, which probably is a contributing factor to my fear of men) So yeah. That's where I'm at right now. Scared, lost, confused, hurting and parts of me also stuck in the memories images and/or feelings of the abuse I suffered growing up. It's not a good place to be.

The treatments are working though. I'm not suicidal during this past week, so I guess that's something? Maybe. But I find myself just wishing I'd gotten to grow up like a normal girl and that I didn't have to go through all of this. That so much time has been wasted dealing w/ this BS. And I hate it. I hate the universe for putting me and everyone in my community through this shit.

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americasmarauders · 4 years ago

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ivy--Jason ToddxFem!Reader

author’s note: once upon a time there was a tiny Luíza who thought it was a good idea to wirite a royal!au. She spent 3 months working on it, but she couldn’t make justice to the words in her head so she gave up on it. Then she watched Bridgerton and decided to give the draft another chance;

so yeah this is a royal!au. this is also my first mature work. nothing explicit just a mention of the devil’s tango.

BEWARE: minors: there is nothing explicit, but there is a mention of sex towards the end, so read it with discretion. I would classify this as a 16+

words: 11,071

the link to my masterlist is here and the link to my jason playlist is here

This was a business transaction, she kept reminding herself.

There were lives on the line, lives she had sworn to protect. It was her duty as the princess to guarantee the continuity and longevity of her bloodline and, above all else, her subjects. And the proposition presented to her guaranteed both of those.

She saw it coming. Her Father’s lavish spending sprees, buying fights with people he shouldn’t. The vault had emptied—not completely, although it wasn’t nowhere near the same state it once was—and the people had suffered. She inherited the mess.

Her kingdom, her prized kingdom, so brilliant, so beautiful, was in ruins. Because of an ego too big. She wasn't going to let that happen again.

The Wayne’s presented as the exit. The kingdom of Gotham neighbored her own, it would be convenient for them to incorporate hers. But above all else, king Bruce wasn’t looking for lands, he wanted knowledge, something her kingdom had plenty to spare.

He wanted the kingdom of scholars to be his own. He wanted to stop the gangs, the barbaric gangs that destroyed her precious land, and he needed help from her scholars. Bruce gave her a business offer too hard to refuse. But there’s always a catch.

‘She’ll marry into the family,’ he wrote in his letter to the Queen, her mother. ‘My second son, he’s the Captain of the Royal Guards, he’s the one to take my throne. She’ll be a fine Queen, and with her knowledge, Y/N will help defeat this evil lurking in our shadows’.

At first, she refused. She wanted to do it, but not at the cost of her future, not at the cost of her love. But she cooled her head. She couldn’t let her selfishness get in the way of the kingdom’s prosperity. So, she sent a letter to King Bruce. She accepted, at the condition they would do whatever it takes to preserve her tradition of knowledge. If to preserve her kingdom and give her people a relief she had to sell herself, then she would gladly do it

Gotham was nowhere near as beautiful as her kingdom. It had its charm, she could see why someone would like it, but it didn’t have the same ethereal air to it. On the contrary, it was quite gray and moody.

She guessed it went along with the family running it. The Wayne’s were famous for being an overly serious, and, quite honestly, incredibly brooding family. King Bruce adopted 6 children—and rumors went around that only one of them was biological; a bastard—and all of them had varying levels of moodiness. She was to marry the second one: Prince Jason, Prince of Park Row.

For a long time, he was the cautionary tale that was told to the children of the royal families. The Prince gone wrong, he snapped, rebelled, and, to many, he had fallen from grace. It was only a few years back he had resurfaced to the public attention as the one who was to be the next king. What happened between being the fallen Prince to being the heir was a mystery, one she wasn't sure she wanted to unveil.

She looked at the windows, seeing the tiny rock houses and the calm villagers walking around under the daylight. She knew that once the night fell, things would change and the streets would be filled with those she yearned to eradicate.

“You do not have to go through with this, my daughter,” her Mother started, once again trying to convince you of backing out of the deal. “We can find another way.”

“There isn’t,” she answered. Her Mother opened her mouth to try to argue. “Don’t, Mother. You raised me to do what was right by my kingdom and its people and continuing by ourselves isn’t the answer.”

“You are not sure about that,” Mother said, condescending in her words.

“Don’t patronize me, Mother,” she shot back, her tone controlled. “I know this isn’t the ideal situation, but our situation wasn’t ideal to begin with,” she inhaled, her gaze shifting to the window of the carriage. “If Father hadn’t been so careless, we wouldn’t be here, and I would have turned down King Bruce’s proposal.”

“I know,” Mother agreed quietly. “I feel for our loss of freedom, that’s all.”

“This isn’t a loss of freedom. This is a new beginning. This is our chance to right our wrongs. Is there more freedom than that?” she responded, putting an end to this conversation as the carriage approached the castle.

It was incredible and grandiose, far more than her family’s castle. It was fitting, she’d heard once from Elizabeth, one of the ladies in her court, that the Waynes vault was enormous. She didn’t know how she knew but seeing the castle alone she believed it.

The carriage pulled to a stop, the door opening for her exit. Mother went first accepting the help from the coachman. She got out gracefully next, and the coachman closed the door behind her. She saw two men standing approaching. The older one had an austere air to him, but as he got nearer, she saw the crinkles next to his eyes, indications of years of smiling. The younger one had mischief in his eyes, and she couldn’t deny that he was incredibly handsome.

“Your Majesty,” the older man bowed to her Mother. He then turned to her and bowed, “Your Highness, it is an absolute pleasure to have you in our kingdom.”

She smiled politely. “The pleasure is all mine, Sir.”

He smiled back. “I’m Alfred Pennyworth, I run the Wayne estate,” he turned once again to Mother. “Your Majesty, if you please I’ll show you to your quarters.”

“Yes, thank you, Sir Pennyworth,” Mother answered, following him into the castle.

The other man cleared his throat. “Your Highness, I’m Prince Dick, Duke of Blüdhaven,” he bowed, and she offered her hand. He kissed it politely, quickly releasing it and standing straight. “I’m the one escorting you today.”

“Thank you, Prince Dick,” she said politely.

“Shall we?” he offered his arm, and she couldn’t miss the golden glimmer of his wedding band on his hand.

“We shall,” she said, controlled.

Both of them walked calmly, as he showed her around the castle. She noticed the extravagant décor, paintings of generations of Wayne’s before adorning the walls, amongst other priceless pieces of art she was sure were worth more than the entire treasure she had in her kingdom. She quietly observed as he showed the corridor to her quarters for the month—he gracefully omitted the fact that she was marrying a stranger by the end of it and this wasn’t going to be her room any longer than that.

She heard Prince Dick sigh next to her. “I’m sorry it has come to this,” he stated. “I’m sure I can speak for my Father when I say we all wished for a different outcome.”

She offered him a tight smile. “Yes, well, I believe what we have agreed on is what’s right for both of our kingdoms,” she noted. “And while I wonder what would have been like if I didn’t come to this decision, if I may be candid, I do not regret making it.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I’m glad you do not have any regrets, Your Highness,” he said. “And I’m glad you were candid about it. I’m positive you’ll do great in our family.”

He stopped in front of a large and sturdy double door. He knocked 3 times. “The King awaits you,” he stated to her. “You shall wait here.”

“Yes, thank you, Your Highness,” she bowed slightly. “Thank you for escorting me.”

“I will not marry her, for fucks sake,” Jason growled, slamming his hands on his guardian’s imponent desk. “I will not be a fucking bargain coin for your politics, Bruce.”

Bruce didn’t even flinch with his son’s outburst. “It is your duty.”

“Shove the duty up your ass, then. I have too many things to worry about, I don’t want another.”

Bruce continued to look at the map sprawled out on his desk, “The L/N’s are incredibly smart and their kingdom holds a lot of the knowledge that we need to defeat the Joker’s gang and the others. This is very much your concern, isn’t it?”

Jason shuddered at the mention of Joker. “It is,” he said, defiant.

“Then marry her and do your job,” he stood up, leaning menacingly over the desk to look Jason in the eye. “You are the main responsible for our safety, and although I disagree with your methods, you are doing a good job. You need to start thinking of the future, Jason. This is bigger than you.”

Jason huffed in annoyance. “I know of that,” he muttered. Then he smirked and said: “But you didn’t marry and had biological kids, Bruce,” he taunted. “Why should I do it the traditional way?”

“Because I know what it’s like to not go down that path, son,” he answered, raising his voice slightly, but still composed. “I don’t want you to be like me, I want you to be better.”

Jason was speechless. He tried to mutter a word but his brain couldn’t think of any of it. “I still don't want to marry her.”

“You will, though,” his Father answered, opening his drawer and pulling the contract out of it. “And all I ask of you is to not push her away. You’ll need her, more than she’ll need you.”

Jason wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that. And he hated to admit—he and Bruce were constantly fighting over everything, especially after… after—but his Father was right. He wished it didn’t come at the cost of his liberty. He wasn’t looking for a wife. He found that it would only hold him back. But the prospect of the crown loomed in his horizon, and if he wanted to do right by his people, marrying was one of the requirements. It was too late to turn back.

Three sturdy knocks sounded. Jason quickly recomposed himself.

She had seen King Bruce once, when she was younger. Her Mother threw a gala for whatever reason and he attended. She didn’t remember seeing any of his kids there, or maybe she was too occupied with her own thoughts to notice.

She remembered him being charming and handsome. A lot of the ladies of the court wanted to marry him, but somehow none of them had managed to. She recalled the color of his eyes so vividly, not because it was beautiful—it was—but because it revealed something deeper about himself that left her guessing. She could never discover it, though. Some things are better left unsaid and unknown.

Looking at him now felt like she had entered a time machine. He had stayed the same, save a couple of wrinkles of worry—totally comprehensible for someone with his position.

She curtsied. “Your Majesty, it’s an honor to meet you once again,” she said.

“Princess Y/N, please come in,” he motioned for her to come in. She straightened up and calmly walked into the room. “I believe you haven’t acquainted yourself with Prince Jason,” he nodded towards the direction of the man standing angrily in the corner.

“No, I haven’t,” she smiled politely and turned to the man. She curtsied, “Your Highness, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She could feel him rolling his eyes, even if she couldn’t see him. “The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness,” he answered sarcastically.

She uncurled and crossed her hands in front of her body. She glanced one last time at her suitor, studying him.

He was beautiful.

Jason had the prettiest eyes she had ever seen. They were the perfect shade of blue, and she never thought there was a perfect shade of color. His hair had a streak of white, that made him look even more rugged than he already was. His hair was swept, messy in the perfect way. He was pretty in the way a bounty hunter or a thief would be, not the way a prince would. Princes were known for being pristine and soft around the edges: Jason was nothing like that.

She turned her eyes to the king. “I believe we have arrangements to make,” she said calmly.

“Yes, we do,” the king replied. He picked up a stack of papers on top of his desk. “I took the liberty of assembling a contract for the annexation,” his hand rested on top of it. “Your input will be valuable.”

King Bruce handed her the papers. “Thank you very much, your Majesty. I imagine this needs to be signed by the end of the week?”

“Yes, but I’d rather it was signed today. Forgive me for the rush, but we need your scholars’ help as soon as possible.”

“I understand,” she replied. “By the end of the day we can sign then.”

“That’s perfect, Princess Y/N. Jason, escort her to the library so she can read in peace,” Bruce commanded.

“Yes, Father,” he gritted through his teeth. She could feel his body shaking with anger and resentment and she knew she was the source of it.

He strode towards the door and flung it open for her. She curtsied to the king one last time, before turning and accompanying her suitor towards the library.

Jason’s hands were crossed behind his back, his feet heavily stomping the ground. She kept up with him, walking side by side, lifting her dress slightly.

The walk was filled with strained silence. She started to feel uneasy about the waves of anger coming off Jason, she felt the need to address it.

He stopped abruptly and opened the double door standing in front of them, revealing the most beautiful library she had ever laid eyes on. Bookshelves adorned all of the walls, from the ceiling to the floor. The stairs to the mezzanine—once again filled with full bookshelves—were of sculpted wood and she considered them pieces of art. The ceiling had the most beautiful paintings on it, and she wondered who had the patience to paint such a huge canvas. It was all breathtaking.

“Well, this is the library. If you need anything don’t hesitate on calling one of the help,” Jason said mechanically, snapping her back to reality.

“Thank you, your Highness,” she muttered, still quite perplexed at the sight. She inhaled deeply and said: “I know this situation isn’t ideal and that you might feel cornered. But, truly, I’m not here to get in your way. I just want what’s best for my people.”

Jason hummed, his anger somewhat subsiding but still very much present. “Yes, well,” he said, “I think you should get to reading that contract. Wouldn’t want to keep his Majesty waiting,” he finished, voice laced with sarcastic undertones. He turned around and left her alone with the papers.

It was late at night. The sun was long gone. Her stomach rumbled in hunger; the last thing she ate was at lunch, when she was about halfway through the papers.

It wasn’t even that long, she just wanted to be thorough. She had read every single line for what it was and all the possible meaning behind it. Kudos to King Bruce for making such a complete and meaningful contract, she had been entertained the entire day.

She rubbed her eyes, exhausted. She had managed to reorganize the contract after pulling it apart, the small piece of paper with her suggestions resting on top of it. With her hands stained with ink, she picked the papers up and headed towards the door, when it opened.

“Sir Pennyworth,” she said in surprise, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Your Highness, his Majesty has sent me to escort you to his office. I believe you’ve settled on the final details of the papers?” he announced politely.

“Yes, I did. King Bruce did a superb job on it,” she complimented. He guided the way towards the office.

“I’m afraid it wasn’t him who wrote it,” Sir Pennyworth pondered.

“No?” she replied.

“I’m sure it was Prince Tim, he’s the one with an aptitude for these endeavors,” he said.

“Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t met Prince Tim, yet. I’ll be sure to compliment him when I do.”

“He’ll be excited, your Highness,” he commented. “What did you think of Gotham so far?”

She smiled sweetly at the older man. “I haven’t seen the city yet, but I found the part I have seen completely charming,” it wasn’t completely a lie. It was charming. Just not as charming as her own kingdom. “The castle, though, I’m mesmerized by it. You have done an incredible job maintaining it, Sir Pennyworth.”

“Please, your Highness, call me Alfred. Thank you for your kind words,” he smiled warmly.

“Well, Alfred,” she stressed his name, respecting his wishes, “thank you for escorting me.”

She stopped as she saw the familiar door, holding the papers tightly. “It’s been my pleasure, your Highness,” he bowed, and left.

She knocked on the door, calmly. A muffled come in came through and she turned the doorknob. Walking in, she saw King Bruce and three of his sons gathered around a round desk in the corner, a map sprawled out. She curtsied. “Your Majesties, I’m here with the contract and my notes.”

She saw one of the Princes mouth ‘notes?’ to Prince Dick, (who shrug it off, just as confused) as Prince Jason rolled his eyes at her once more. “Please, Princess, sit down so we can further discuss it,” he motioned to his desk. “Dick, Tim, we will continue debating this tomorrow. Dick, you are dismissed. Tim, stay in case we need to change the composition.”

Both Princes furrowed their eyebrows. As Dick left the room without a word or bow—which she was sure broke some kind of protocol—Tim decided to sit on an armchair next to the table they were standing before. The door closed with a click and she sat down, the papers resting on her lap gently.

“I heard you said you have some notes on the text?” King Bruce initiated politely.

“I mean no disrespect, your Majesty. The redaction was splendid,” she complimented, “I just mean there could be a couple of points added to make it more complete.”

“Yes, yes,” he agreed, “please make your points.”

“I agreed to this proposition on the condition of preserving my kingdom’s tradition in academia. While there was a clause in page 5 that stated that clearly, I thought it would be to everyone’s benefit if it was expanded into specifics,” she handed him the contract and the notes.

He glanced over the notes, Jason reading it too, behind his Father. “I think these are all fair requests.”

She smiled. A much needed win for her kingdom. “Thank you,” she said.

“Tim, grab a pen and paper and add these to the text,” Bruce ordered. “We sign this tonight.”

Tim jumped up from his seat, quickly opening a drawer for the pen and paper, and grabbing her notes. He scribbled furiously and within minutes the new page of the contract was finished, both parties agreeing to it.

“Now, all there’s left to do is sign,” Tim announced handing a pen to Jason.

She noticed Jason’s eyes filled with something indescribable, a mix of what she assumed was anger and grief. She wished both of them had a choice, but this was bigger than both. She prayed to the stars that both could make the best of this bad situation.

He signed, handing the pen to her. Her fingers brushed for a mere second, and she felt heat rising to her cheeks. She quickly recomposed herself and swiftly signed out her name, her kingdom.

It was done. It was easier than she thought it would be. She hoped she hadn’t made the wrong decision, and there was all that was left to do.

King Bruce dismissed Tim, leaving just her and Jason in the room. “There’s the matter of the engagement ball,” he stated. “We hope to announce your engagement by the end of next week.”

“Of course,” she stated clearly. Jason only grunted.

“Should I expect both of you to be involved in the planning?” the King asked. It sounded more like an order and she knew Jason knew about that.

Jason nodded stiffly. She then turned to the King and opened a polite smile. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” she agreed.

King Bruce dismissed both of them and Jason ran out of the room.

She ran to catch up to him, his long strides almost besting her in a long gown and high heels. “Prince Jason, wait!” she shouted.

He stopped and turned. “What?”

If she was taken aback by his rudeness she was sure to not show it. “Since now it’s official, I was wondering if I could tag along to one of your strategy meetings. I might have some knowledge to share or point the way to help.”

“Aren’t you going to be too busy planning the ball?” he taunted.

“I’m perfectly capable of focusing on more than one thing,” she replied dryly. “Gotham is my kingdom now, I want it to prosper. And I want to be a part of it.”

His face didn’t leave any indications on whether or not he was to grant her permission to participate, so she was surprised when she heard him agreeing. “I’ll arrange for you to participate in one. I’ll send Alfred to tell you details,” he dismissed and turned around once again intended to walk to wherever he was headed.

“Thank you,” she shouted after him.

He hesitated before walking. He turned to her slightly and gave her a smile--and she felt like it was an honest one. He turned back and disappeared.

A gentle breeze blew as she walked down the busy streets of Gotham. Her dress—which she felt was too light for this occasion—blended in with the crowd splendidly. Jason walked beside her calmly, his hands behind his back.

His face was serene and calm, as if he was truly where he belonged. She thought it as a good quality: it meant he was empathic, not on a pedestal like most heirs. He came from the people and he would serve his people. Her heart fluttered involuntarily. She struggled to contain it.

The people of the city were quite vivacious and charming. The city in itself was gloomy and, quite honestly, a touch depressing, but the people colored the streets and made it feel almost as if the city was breathing.

“This is so different,” she said, perplexed by the movement around her. No one as they passed by her noticed who she was, or better, what she was. “They don’t care.”

Jason smiled. “No, they don’t.”

“It’s quite magical,” she concluded.

“It may be to us, but to other people,” he pointed to a couple, both very dirty and very thin sitting on the floor. They tried to get people’s attention, but they just didn’t care, “well, it can be quite awful.”

She wished she was just as cold as those other people. It would save her a whole lot of suffering but she wasn’t. People’s pains found a way to her heart and became her own. She pushed through the crowd, muttering a few ‘excuse me’s along the way. She took off the only jewelry—a necklace, so simple and delicate; it was one of her favorites—she was wearing and left it in the can the old couple had in front of them.

She knelt to be at eye level with them and said, looking at their shocked faces: “Sell it, please. It’s worth some money and you’ll be able to buy some food and clothes.”

Their faces lit up and they thanked her enthusiastically. She smiled at them before getting up and rejoining Jason and continuing her walk. He had the same shock the couple had. He offered his arm, out of politeness she was sure, and her hand rested on the crook of his elbow.

“Out of all the things I thought you would do, I—” he trailed off.

“You think so little of me,” she said. “I’m not heartless, you know?”

“I never assumed that,” he muttered.

She looked him dead in the eye. His eyes twinkled in the sunlight and once again she had to fight the fluttering feeling in her stomach. “Good.”

A few beats went by before either of them spoke again. She was the one to break the silence. “Does Gotham have any social programs to help the poor? It would greatly benefit the people,” she added kindly. “If there isn’t, I’m sure I can think of something to help.”

Jason fought to contain a smile creeping on his face. “I think His Majesty deals with this type of project. You’d have to talk to him,” he said, guiding her back to the carriage.

“I’ll discuss it with him then,” she said, impassive, her lips quirking up at the end. “Have you arranged for me to participate in the meeting?”

Jason sobered up quickly. He couldn’t show her that he found her amusing. He couldn’t be so transparent. He didn’t want a wife, he repeated to himself. He didn’t need a wife, he tried to convince himself. This girl was not for him, she was too good. “I did.”

She smiled. “Great. I’ll catch up on studies so I can understand everything.”

He hoped he had remained impassive, because he couldn’t control the plethora of feelings inside his heart. Fuck.

Jason paced in his office. Tim watched him closely, studying his brother.

“Why are you so exasperated?” Tim questioned. “I’m glad you like her, otherwise you would have led a horrible life.”

“That’s exactly my point,” Jason said, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t want to like her, Tim. She’s too good for me.”

“How do you know that? You’ve barely even met her,” Tim leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs.

“I just fucking know it, Tim,” he snapped, yelling at his brother. “It’s bullshit, that’s what it is. I wasn’t supposed to be in this situation, I’m not supposed to fall in love and get married and have a white picket fence life, goddammit. Look at me” he motioned to himself, looking straight into Tim’s eyes, “I’m a fucking disgrace. I’m a monster who kills people without remorse, I’m—”

“Enough with the self-pity, Jason!” Tim got up abruptly, matching Jason’s volume. Jason’s mouth promptly shut. “Stop it. You’ve wallowed in it since Bruce told you about the arrangement, I won’t allow it anymore,” he added quietly. “You know none of what you said is true, you know it,” Tim walked to his brother and rested his hands on his shoulder. “Fuck what you think, Jay. Fuck what everybody else thinks, okay? You’re already getting married to her no matter what, let yourself like her. It’s the least you could do.”

“I can’t—” Jason inhaled sharply recomposing himself. “I don’t know if I can like her the way she deserves.”

“Then try. Isn’t it what you’ve spent your life doing? Trying? Try this too. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She hates me and I have to be married for the rest of my life with someone who hates me,” he didn’t say that that was his greatest fear. That he never wanted to be like his parents, fighting and bickering and beating each other. Showing their worst to the world. Having a kid and traumatizing him to the point he’d hardly trust someone.

“So, you’d be just like another royal,” Tim tried to lighten up the mood. He noticed Jason’s somber expression and quickly sobered up. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s trying so hard to please you, to prove to you she’s a worthy addition to the family, can’t you see?”

“She’s not doing it for me,” Jason got out of Tim’s hold, turning his back to his brother.

“She may not, but she’s trying hard, when most wouldn’t even bother. That’s something, Jay,” Tim completed.

Jason didn’t complement Tim. He had enough with the talking and the convincing. Tim sighed sadly, and left the room, leaving Jason to sulk alone.

Between setting everything up for the ball, arranging the wedding ceremony, learning everything she could about Gotham recent history, and everything else she had taken upon, she was completely and utterly occupied.

It was for the better though. The more she was doing, the less she stayed inside her head, thinking about herself and letting her anxiety and doubt eat her inside. She had done the right thing, she kept reminding herself. She had done the best thing for her people, they would prosper, they would not suffer anymore.

And yet, there was always a little voice telling her that she had signed her people’s death sentence. The more she learned about Gotham, the more she read about its history and its horrors and its corruption, the more she thought she had condemned her people to a life in misery. Look at the amount of homeless, she thought, why did Gotham have so many homeless people, so many kids?

No. No. No. She wouldn’t allow herself to get nervous. She was sure in her decision, and Prince Jason had proven himself to be reliable, even if he was distant. When she asked him a favor, he did it. When she asked him a question about his lands--Park Row--he would answer it truthfully. It was more than she could have expected in an arranged marriage. Most of those ended up in misery, both parties unfaithful to their spouses. She knew Prince Jason wouldn’t seek pleasure and comfort elsewhere. She felt it.

As soon as she stopped in front of Jason’s improvised study in Gotham’s main castle, Prince Tim opened the door. She could see Jason gazing through the window, his back turned to the door.

“Princess Y/N!” Prince Tim exclaimed, surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

She saw Jason tense and turn to them. She smiled. “I have a couple of things to discuss with Prince Jason,” she explained.

Tim chuckled. “Yes, yes, of course,” he shook his head and said with an airy smile on his face. He turned to Jason and shared a look. Jason looked like he could kill his brother. Tim stepped out of the way and let her enter the room. She entered and Tim left closing the door behind him.

She stared at him. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes casting shadows over his face. But somehow, his eyes looked brighter than she had ever seen it before. She has trouble breathing and her heart beated faster inside her chest. She swallowed dryly, her hands gripping tightly the papers she carried. She curtsied to him. Follow protocol. Protocol is safe, it doesn’t make anyone nervous.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked, his voice strained.

“Yes, well,” she snapped out of her daze, “there’s still a few details to be decided for the ball.”

He sighed and sat on his chair, his body looking exhausted. “Can’t you decide?”

“It’s not only my ball,” she said. “I can’t decide for you, Your Highness.”

“Don’t call me Your Highness,” he muttered, annoyed. “It’s weird. We’re going to be married,” he explained. “I don’t want to have protocol in the middle of it.”

She looked down at her feet and back up at him. There went her comfort, the line she drew to not get too close. It was a business transaction after all, no need to get personal. Well, she figured, it got personal when she promised herself as a bargain coin for politics. “Yes, of course,” she whispered. “It won’t happen again,” she finished.

He sighed. He mentioned for her to sit in front of her and she sat. “We need to establish some rules before we embark in this...journey together,” he stated.

“Of course,” she agreed.

“I don’t want you to be restrained by protocols and etiquette when speaking to me,” he said softly. “We’re going to rule a kingdom together, one that just got bigger, we’re going to have to trust each other.”

“I agree,” she said, hesitant. “What is your point?”

“Call me Jason,” he said. “I never really liked my title all that much and I don’t want my future wife using it when talking to me,” he stated. It was the first time she heard him referring to her as his future wife, and he said it like it didn’t bother him. It sent butterflies to her stomach.

“Yes, you’re right,” she shook her head. Of course he was. Her parents never called each other by their titles when they were alone. “I suppose you’d want to form a friendship too?”

His mouth quirked up. “That would be preferable, yes,” he said.

“Okay, then, Jason,” she stressed his name. “Then we should start this partnership deciding which colors do you want the napkins to be.”

“Actually,” Jason started, “I have something to give you first.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I wanted to start this on the right foot,” he pulled out a little velvet box from a drawer behind the desk and walked to be beside her. “Since we’re engaged, I thought it was only appropriate to give you an engagement ring.”

She looked up at him, surprised. “You didn’t have to,” she shook her head. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

He smiled at her. “Open it,” he urged her.

She picked up the box and opened. Resting inside it, she noticed, was the prettiest ring she had ever seen. There was a single ruby, sided with two simple diamonds. It wasn’t the flashiest and biggest engagement ring she ever saw--one of the ladies of her court married a rich duke from a far away kingdom and he had given her a diamond ring that almost covered her entire finger. “It’s beautiful,” she said, staring at it.

“Allow me,” he said, picking the box, and slipping the ring on her finger. His hands lingered on hers longer than it should have. “There.”

She stared at it for a bit longer. “I have no words, Jason.”

He smirked and walked to his chair. “How about we decide the color of the napkins?”

He knew he shouldn’t have done that. He was getting involved, he was cultivating feelings for her, feelings he had refused to have just mere minutes ago when he was talking with Tim. But when he was with her, he couldn’t help it, he was just swept away by her. Suddenly, around her, Jason wanted to do everything to please her, to make her happy and satisfied.

Jason knew he was in deep shit. Jason knew he was falling for her, and he wanted, consciously, to stop that. But he couldn’t: his heart spoke louder.

He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

They had walked side by side the entirety of the ball. Her hand rested in a variety of places, the crook of his elbow, his hand, or the skirt of her dress. It didn’t need any saying that her favorite place for her hand to be was in his.

Nevertheless, the fluttering it sent to her stomach every time he would smile at her--albeit she knew the smile was only for show--it didn’t diminish the anger she felt at him.

They walked side by side all night, him telling a fantasious story about how they met. It was love at first sight, he’d tell. They’d met under the moonlight, a sky full of stars, he looked at her and knew she was meant for him. She wore a blue dress, according to him. She smiled at him and it was like a whole new world opened up to him, a world full of love. According to him.

The worst part was that she couldn’t say anything. Because she didn’t know anything about the lie he had constructed, what he had told other people when she was talking to his brothers while he was talking to Kings of other kingdoms. And that was what made her angry. He had reduced her, at least for the night, as a mere accessory for him.

He had been so sweet with her, so charming and loving. And then he did what he did. It could have been worse, she thought. He could have been invasive, he could have ignored her ‘no’. In that way, he was an angel. But he was still shitty with her that night. And it didn’t matter that it could have been a million times worse, Jason had reduced her to an arm candy. She still felt like an object. That would never be acceptable to her.

He took her to the dance floor, as the orchestra played a slow song.

“It was a charming story you told our guests,” she said, her voice impassive.

“I figured it would be better for them to think we’re marrying for love instead of what actually is,” he explained, his hand resting on her lower back and the other holding her hand. She ignored the feeling his touch sent through her body.

“I wish you would have told me,” she said, her voice strained. She tried to control her anger.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

“I discovered you had concocted a story for us at the same time all the others did, Jason,” she said. “And I couldn’t say anything, in risk of exposing the lie you’ve built.”

He looked at her confused for a mere second, before recognizing what he did. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t think--”

“You didn’t,” she interrupted him. “I’m not an accessory, Jason. I’m far too smart for that role,” she said. “I can’t stand by your side and smile and wave as if it’s just all I can do. I came to Gotham expecting not to be numbed by antique expectations of women of royalty. And you forced me to fit that box tonight. I hate it.”

“I’m truly sorry,” he said sincerely.

“Yes,” she nodded. “Next time you decide to lie, at least tell me what you’re planning. After all this is a partnership, we agreed on that. We can’t act behind each other's back.”

“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, squeezing the hand he was holding more tightly and bringing her closer to him. “It won’t ever happen again.”

“Good,” she nodded.

She knew he was trying to charm her with his tight hold on her. She tried to stay mad at him, tried to remain impassive, but she found that she felt safe with his arms around her like that. She broke a shy smile at him. He smiled at her too, his eyes bright with something unrecognizable.

She sat quietly in the corner, a notebook resting in her lap. Her fingers twiddled with the pen, as she listened attentively to what the council members had to say.

It was refreshing to be intellectually stimulated when she’d spent the entire week deciding dumb details about the wedding. It didn’t matter what flower arrangement the church was going to be decorated with, or which color the napkins were. She really didn’t care about it. If it were up to her she’d be married in a tiny room with no party. But it wasn’t, so she complied.

“—we need to send humanitarian help to the Bowery, the people are starving!” Lady Helena exclaimed, cutting Tim in his long rant about something overly complicated.

“We can send help after we eliminate Scarecrow!” Tim replied just as loudly. “If we send food, the gang will intercept and the situation will get worse, Helena. Don’t you get it?”

“What I get, Tim,” she said annoyed, “is that you are so entangled in your overly complicated plan to dismantle their operation that you are blind to the suffering of your people.”

Tim got up abruptly from the table, angry at Lady Helena, his fists balled up like he was going to punch her. Dick rested a hand in his brother's arms, calmly guiding him down for him to sit. Tim sat with a thud, his eyes flaming with rage, his face red.

Jason, who was awfully quiet the entire meeting, sighed and rubbed his hands on his face. He leaned forward on the table, looking defeated. “And here I thought we’d make a good first impression,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay, your Highness,” she said respectfully, thinking it would be better to use his title in front of the committee instead of his name. “In fact, I think I might have the solution to the Bowery problem.”

Tim scoffed. “Good luck with that. I’ve been trying for the past year to solve it and I’m nowhere near to the solution.”

She ignored his comment. “Anyway, I remember reading something about Scarecrow in my dad’s files. I’d need to reread to be sure, but I know there’s a safe way to provide supplies for those in need.”

Jason clasped his hands together. “Great! We’ll discuss details at the next meeting after we get those files.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather pick those up myself,” she said

“Sure, I’ll ask Alfred to arrange the trip,” he dismissed. “Well if there’s nothing else to discuss, this meeting is finished.”

The council members disbanded leaving only her and Jason in the council room.

“What did you think?” Jason asked, his voice tired.

“They mean well,” she started, “but I can see that they’re desperate for results. And desperation in these situations isn’t a good thing.”

“I know,” he sighed, his hands running through his hair. “I know, I’ve tried telling them but it never works in the long run.”

She smiled. “Good thing I know how to help,” she said.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s good that you’re here.”

He knew it was coming. He thought he was prepared for it. He thought he wouldn’t feel anything when he saw her walking down the long aisle, he hoped he wouldn’t. But when Jason saw her in her white dress, walking towards him, his heart stopped for a second and the world stopped turning.

She chose to walk down the aisle by herself. She wanted to show she wasn’t led into any decisions. She was doing this by her own accord, her own judgement. Jason thought it showed a lot of her character. She stood by her decisions and its consequences. She was strong. He admired her, more than he cared to admit.

Jason could barely remember the ceremony. He couldn’t stop looking at her, memorizing every detail of her in the light of the Gotham Cathedral, the crown she was wearing, the embroidery in her dress. But most importantly, the look in her eyes. It was everything to Jason.

He couldn’t exactly place what it was yet, but it was there and it meant more to him than he realized it ever could.

He floated through the ball after the ceremony. It was weird to call someone his wife, he never thought he would see the day he could call someone that. But Jason found that it didn’t repulse him like it would have before he met her. He was left with a tingly sensation of joy inside him.

It scared the daylight out of him.

He kept a tight grip on her, walking side by side. She was enchanting. She talked smartly with Kings of neighboring kingdoms. He heard King Clark of Metropolis commenting to Bruce how perceptive the new princess was. How intelligent she was.

Jason knew all of that, but it still didn’t stop him from being mesmerized.

“Who’s that gentleman?” she nodded towards an old man on the corner of the room.

Jason hummed looking at the man. “That’s Oswald Cobblepot. He is a part of one of the oldest families of Gotham.”

“He has been staring intensely at me for the entire ball,” she looked at Jason, whispering to him.

“Well, you are the future Queen,” he commented. “People will stare at you more.”

“No,” she shook her head, her hand resting on the crook of his elbow. He guided her through the ballroom. “This is different. He looks at me like he hates me.”

“Oh,” he said. “He has a…quarrel, if you will, with the Waynes. His family was one of the few that founded Gotham. The Cobblepots almost ruled the land, but the Waynes got the kingdom. They have hated our family since then.”

“Now that I’m a Wayne, he hates me?” she asked. “This doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, technically you’re a Todd-Wayne, but yes.”

She hummed. “He seems suspicious, Jason,” she whispered. “I think he’s planning something.”

“Cobblepot is a coward, he would never hurt you,” Jason reassured. “But he would pay for someone to do so.”

“You think he has?” a twinge of panic rising in her voice.

“He has done that before,” Jason said. “He wasn’t supposed to be invited, but Bruce insisted, and I had to dislocate more guards to the ballroom because of him.”

“Can you keep an eye on him?” she asked. “I have a bad feeling about him.”

“We always keep an eye on him, Y/N” he whispered. “He’s a criminal.”

“What?” she said, shocked. He guided her to the dance floor, as a soft song played through the room.

“We have undercover guards track him everywhere,” he stated quietly, as if no one was supposed to know. “We have to every criminal mastermind this city has ever had the pleasure to meet.”

“That’s a lot of guards then,” she commented.

“It’s a fucking nightmare,” he laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone get to you, love.”

She looked at his eyes and smiled. “Thank you, Jason.”

“I’m your husband now, Y/N. It’s my duty,” he said.

She smiled shyly at him and glanced at their feet for a second before looking back at him. “I never thought…”

He smiled at her. “What?”

She shook her head, smiling at him, completely lost for words. “Nevermind.”

He sighed and tightened his hold on her. “I didn’t say this yet, but you look breathtaking today,” he stated, clearly.

“You look beautiful too,” she replied.

He gaped at her, like he wasn’t expecting the compliment. He quickly recomposed himself. “Well, I guess we make a breathtakingly beautiful couple then,” he joked.

“I guess we do,” she looked deeply into his eyes, smiling softly. Her eyes glinted with something different, something familiar and warm. But something he couldn’t quite name yet.

He found that he looked forward to the day when he could.

She had dismissed the maid that would help her get rid of the dress. She was too nervous to deal with anyone else. She paced in front of her vanity, waiting for Jason to come in their room.

It was so weird to think that now there was a ‘they’. They were a couple, they were a unit. It was a first for her, and she hadn’t had the time to think about it until all of the whirlwind of the wedding had passed.

“I thought you would have been out of that uncomfortable dress by now,” she heard him. She turned to see him. His shirt was unbuttoned, his tie hanging untied on his neck. He carried his jacket over his shoulder. He looked relaxed and comfortable, and she got even more nervous looking at him.

“I was nervous so I sent Claire away,” she shrugged.

He took a step in her direction. “What are you nervous about?”

She sighed and pressed her hands together over the skirt of her dress. “About us,” she whispered. “I didn’t think of the after. I didn’t have the time.”

He smiled and took another step towards her, finally close enough to her. She could see perfectly the sincerity in his eyes. She could see the scar above his eyebrow and the tiny freckles on his nose. “You don’t have to be nervous about anything,” he reassured her. “I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

“It’s not only that,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve never done this before. This…” she hesitated, “partnership. I know things are different for men.”

“I don’t see how,” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“You know how,” she snapped. “Men are praised for their sexual endeavours. Women are expected to remain pure until marriage,” she explained calmly. “And it’s not fair to either of us, you have an unfair advantage over me and I--,” she stopped herself.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can say it, I won’t be hurt.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know how to do this, Jason,” she admitted. “I’ve never even been kissed before.”

He smirked. “That’s easy to resolve,” he stated. His hands cradled her face and he leaned in, stopping just before their lips met. “If you want, of course,” he whispered, his breath mixing with hers.

Her breath got caught up in her throat. She wasn’t expecting him to be that direct. She thought he would seduce her first, like in the romance novel she had read. She’d rather his directness. “Yes,” she whispered.

He smirked and clashed his lips with hers. She closed her eyes and grabbed his shoulders tightly. His lips were surprisingly soft on hers, and she wondered what would happen if he decided to kiss with more passion instead of holding back.

She decided to, then, take the first step towards that direction. Her hands moved to his hair and she brought his lips closer to hers--which she thought it was impossible. She responded with more passion and more eagerness and he was shocked for a second before complying.

One of his hands moved to her waist and pressed her body closer to his. She opened her mouth just a little and his tongue licked her lips, entering her mouth slightly. She felt a wave of heat invade her, and she let it in pleasurably. His mouth started to make way down her neck, his fingers on her back, fumbling with the buttons of her dress.

She felt panicked at the intimacy of the act and tensed. Jason felt her nervousness and stopped. “We don’t have to go further if you don’t want to,” he whispered.

“It’s too much,” she replied, her voice strained. “It’s not you, Jay, I’m just not ready.”

He cradled her head, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’d wait forever for you,” he said. “I can wait until you’re ready.”

She gave him a shy smile. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now, let me undo those buttons and get some sleep,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

The carriage shook as they rode through the country towards her kingdom. She looked out of the tiny window at the horizon, admiring the view.

“Did you miss home?” Jason asked.

She looked at him. “I did miss my Mother, and my friends,” she said, “But I don’t know if it’s my home anymore.”

“What is home then?” he asked, curious.

She searched in his eyes any indication of his intentions with that question. She found nothing but admiration and warmth and--if she’d be so bold--love. “I’m not sure yet,” she said. “When I found out, I’ll tell you.”

“Please do, I’d like to visit that place,” he laughed.

Now that they were officially married, they had moved back to Jason’s residence in Park Row. They were almost completely disconnected from the Wayne Castle in the outskirts of the city. Park Row was in a part of the city called Old Gotham, some would say it’s the heart of the city, right in the center, the most populous part. Others would say it’s the cancer of the mechanism of the town, littered with homeless and thieves.

Jason was born in Park Row. His parents were simple people. He didn’t give her much detail on who they were, and she could feel it hurt to talk about that subject so she didn’t push him to say anything. All he would tell was that his Father died first, and he was left as a child to help his sick Mother and him survive.

He became a pickpocket at age 8. His Mother died when he was 9. He lived on the streets up until he was 13. That was when King Bruce found him and took him in. Jason said he was trying to steal one of the wheels of his carriage when Bruce arrived and offered him shelter and food. Next day, he was already adopted and enrolled in classes. Next day he became a prince. She wondered what it was like for him to have gone through such a radical change in the span of a day.

He disappeared when he was 17. He was especially cagey about his time away. No matter what questions she asked he wouldn’t answer any of them. She wanted to attribute it to mystique, but she knew it was because of trauma.

When he came back he was a changed man, a stronger one, a more traumatised one. That was when he started to disagree with his Father more. He would question the methods Bruce would use in his hunt for justice in Gotham. He would question everything Bruce did, in Jason’s exact words. He didn’t detail anything and she started to notice a trend in his behavior: when something hurt him too deeply, he would barely talk about it.

Next thing he knew, he agreed to be the heir, he accepted the role his older brother left for him. He said it was because he knew better than any of his siblings how it was to be on the streets and suffer like most in Gotham. He would do better by them, and she believed in him. Wholeheartedly.

“So, what’s the plan of attack here?” he asked.

“We go in, say hello to my Mother and go to my Father’s study and look for the files,” she said. “It’s a dangerous mission, be careful,” she joked.

“We should have called for backup,” he said, seriously, embarking on her joke. “Maybe 1,000 soldiers would have sufficed.”

“More like 10,000,” she laughed. “Seriously, we’ll just spend the afternoon going through dusty paperwork,” she said. “It’s going to be quite boring.”

He smiled. “Nothing’s boring with you,” he stated.

She smiled back. “I quite disagree, but I appreciate the compliment.”

The carriage halted to a stop. Jason opened the door for her and offered his hand for her to come down the steps. She accepted it and stood proudly by his side. He offered his arm and she took it. He led her towards the staircase that led to the main entrance of her castle. She could see her Mother standing there waiting for her.

She had her problems with her Mother, but she still loved her. She left Jason’s hold and ran up the stairs to meet her Mother. She panted when she finally got up the stairs, but nevertheless, she held her Mother in a tight embrace. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

“You shouldn’t have run,” her Mother said in her ear, her voice humorous. “What would Prince Jason think?”

“Jason would think I love my Mother and I’ve missed her,” she stated. “How have you been?” she said, breaking the hug.

“I’ve been okay,” Mother answered. She looked behind her daughter and her expression became impassive. “Your Highness,” her Mother said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Jason smiled at her mother. “The pleasure is all mine.”

She smiled at her husband and at her Mother. “Shall we get inside?”she suggested. “Jason and I have to go through Father’s files.”

“Oh, those things?” her Mother said. “Good luck, I know he left those completely disorganized.”

“I remember,” she muttered. “It’s going to be a nightmare,” she said to Jason.

“I don’t mind,” Jason stated. “We can spend as long as we want here,” he gripped her hand. “This is important for us back in Gotham, it’s important to be thorough.”

“Well,” her Mother started, “I’ll leave you two to work then. I’ll send in some tea for you.”

“Thank you Mother,” she said, watching her Mother disappear into the corridor. She turned to Jason and smiled. “Shall we?”

He bowed slightly and said: “Lead the way, My Lady.”

She smiled and started getting up the stairs, Jason right beside her.

It was charming how much Jason’s behavior towards her had changed so much in a relatively small amount of time. When she had first met him, she feared a loveless marriage, with a husband cold towards her. But, slowly--or as slow as it felt--he had shifted. He started being less sarcastic and more truthful. He would still make sarcastic remarks, but never directed towards her. Jason started being soft and understanding. It was weird to think of a man so big and rough as him as soft and gentle, but it was how she saw him.

She knew he had his insecurities. He had told her once. He had told her he was reluctant to trust her, that he thought he didn’t deserve her. She said he was selling himself short. He replied that she didn’t know most things that he had done. She thought that it didn’t matter because she was falling in love with him.

Love. What a strange feeling. What an overwhelmingly dangerous feeling. It had changed her entire view of the world. She was much more willing to happiness, to the tiny beautiful things of the world. She saw things colored pink. She knew this effect would pass, but she would enjoy it while she could.

She felt his hand brush hers. She looked down at their hands, barely touching and then looked at him with a smile. He looked forward, his face impassive, like he had no idea what he was doing. She held his hand and he squeezed it. Her mouth quirked up slightly.

She led him right to a giant double door. She released his hand and opened the door, revealing her Father’s office.

It was considerably smaller than King Bruce’s office, but it still held an air of authority. Behind the main desk there was a big window that had a view of the castle entrance. Both side walls were bookcases, from the ceiling to the ground. In the middle of the room was the King’s desk, untouched.

“Nobody has come in here since he died,” she said quietly. “Except me.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he replied.

“It’s fine, it’s been a long time,” she sniffed. “I just miss him.”

Jason remained quiet, examining the room. “Anyways,” she said. “I’ll get those files, and we’ll start looking.”

She pulled a book in the middle of a bookcase. The bookcase retreated and it revealed a big safe. She opened the safe and revealed piles and piles of papers, untouched for years. “Will you help me?” she asked, picking a pile.

He picked up another big pile. He rested it on the floor. “We can pick more up after we go through these,” she said, sitting on the floor. “We’ll be entertained for a while.”

They spent hours reading. She started a system to organize the files into topics. Those that treated about economic affairs were separated into one corner of the room, those of the political affairs into the other. The political affairs were separated into topics: internal politics, external, and finally security. Those were the ones they had to nitpick through. She catalogued it in criminals: Penguin, Riddler, Two-Face, Scarecrow, the lot.

She had through those files at least once in her life. It was interesting to read through once, and she could see Jason was fascinated about the operations her Father had led once. But she found it a bit boring, like she had predicted. Nevertheless she persisted. It was more important than her entertainment.

“Y/N” he called for her, “look at this.”

She got up from the ground and walked towards him. She had discarded her shoes long ago and was almost tempted to change into some pants. “Yes?” she asked.

“Is this the file you talked about?” He gave her the document.

She scanned through the document. It detailed how they had managed to successfully cut off supplies for the fabrication of the fear gas in her kingdom and how, with that, they had managed to ban Scarecrow from there. “It is,” she said. “I can’t believe you found it, I thought we would spend another day looking for it.”

“We already did that,” he said. “We already tried stopping the production of the gas, we discovered an antidote for it, it didn’t stop Crane.”

She smiled. “It’s not only that,” she explained, turning her back and going to the internal affairs pile. “You can’t stop only Crane, you have to redirect his soldiers to a more positive occupation,” she found the file and gave it to him. “See?”

He read through the document quickly. “But we have social programs in Gotham, it still--”

“You have and those social programs are great,” she said. “But it’s not enough for you to take care of the children and the homeless, you have to take care of the poor, those who struggle to get a job and do whatever it takes to not be helped by those social programs.

“You have to direct those men and women to better jobs, give them better chances, educate them and then you’ll defeat Scarecrow fully,” she finished

“Because then they’ll know better than to join him,” he whispered. “It’s brilliant.”

“It’s how you stop them,” she smiled and sat on his lap. “This is the beginning of the end, Jason. We’re on the right path.”

“How didn’t we think of it?” he asked himself. Her hands found his cheeks, caressing it gently.

“You were too focused on the short term solution, and it’s okay,” she assured. “Now, you can do better.”

“I will,” he looked into her eyes and he said. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she asked, confused.

“For everything,” he whispered. “For agreeing to give up being the sole sovereign of a land to joining Gotham and be its Queen, for being so wonderfully smart, for being patient with me for umm--”

She interrupted him, kissing him with passion. She stopped the kiss and rested her forehead on his. “You don’t need to thank me, Jay,” she said. “I’m doing what’s right.”

“For that I love you,” he responded. She tensed at those words. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to--”

“I love you,” she said. “I love you,” she kissed him with a passion.

“Is it too soon?” he mumbled on her lips. “Is it too soon to say that we love each other?”

“I feel like I’ve waited all my life for you,” she mumbled back. “So, no.”

“Great,” he whispered.

Then he kissed her like his life depended on it. His kiss was filled with a fiery passion she had never felt before. Granted she hadn’t kissed much in her life, but nevertheless this was a new first for her.

His tongue made an entrance in her mouth and she felt a fire run through her. She returned his passion, gripping the base of his hair. He moaned against her mouth, bringing her closer to him. He gripped her waist with determination as his lips moved swiftly against hers.

He tilted her head upwards and his mouth kissed its way to her neck. She hummed and as he bit a sensitive part of her skin. “Jay,” she moaned.

“If you want me to stop, I will,” he replied, his mouth still on her neck pecking where he had just bitten.

“Don’t stop,” she said.

“You shall have your wish, then, My Princess,” he smirked and kissed the corner of her mouth.

She got impatient and grabbed his face, smashing his lips on hers. She kept on kissing him, running her hands through his hair. He fumbled with the buttons of her dress and she didn’t feel like tensing and running away. She wanted him to continue to fumble with the buttons, she wanted him to open those buttons and take off her dress.

“Jason,” she mumbled.

He hummed in response, his lips leaving hers. He kissed all over her face and she giggled delighted.

“How about we take this elsewhere?” she suggested, trying to be seductive.

He smirked and looked at her softly. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I am,” she affirmed. “I’m ready.”

He smiled and kissed her lovingly. “I love you,” he whispered, he got up and started carrying her towards the door of the office. He couldn’t stop kissing her even if he tried.

“No!” she exclaimed. “There’s a secret bedroom next to here.”

“Is this castle full of secret passages?” he mumbled, his lips trying to find hers like a magnet.

“Yes,” she breathed out. “Pull that book,” she pointed to a book in the top corner of the last shelf of the last bookcase.

He pulled the book and the bookcase retreated revealing a simple wooden door. He opened it and it revealed a King’s bedroom.

“My Father slept here after he pulled all nighters,” she kissed his neck gently. “After he got sick he barely came into the office so it’s been unused for years.”

He smiled and lifted her chin. He looked in her eyes lovingly. “Are you really sure?” he asked once again. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“How can I, Jason?” she said. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

He smiled at her. He closed the door behind him and they laid together.

To think one day he had questioned how he could want a wife. He hadn’t met her before. He hadn’t known he was destined to meet such a wonderful person, determined and strong. He hadn’t known he was meant to love her.

He had been too naïve to think he wouldn’t need her. He needed her more than he needed air, water, food. And he knew she needed him. It was a partnership after all. They needed each other, they trusted each other, and they loved each other.

author’s note: don’t forget to reblog if you’ve liked to make sure more people see it. also, the link to my jason playlist is here

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #Jason Todd #red hood x reader #Red Hood X y/n #red hood #royal!au #prince!jason #king!bruce #princess!reader #my masterlist #royalty!jason todd #royal!jason todd

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httpnxtt · 4 years ago

Text

Wallpaper - Reid x Reader

A/N: Hello Lovelies! I attempted some pure fluff this time to show my love to my bby, @spencer-reid-in-a-pool ! I wanted to shower her with love and this was the only way I could think how, so I hope you enjoy! Shoutout to @imagining-in-the-margins for the adorable prompt! You’re amazing and ily!

Also shout out to my amazing beta buddies, @sunlight-moonrise , @clean-bands-dirty-stories , and @definitelynotkatesblog !

Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: FLUFFY FLUFF

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 4.2k

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the world of darkness that surrounds our lives, it’s important to find the light in the world. Luckily for me, our paperwork days meant being sat across from my best friend, Spencer Reid. The man whose smile lit the entire room, who could drop everything in an instant for someone he loves; who makes my days brighter at the simplest, “Hi.” The curly-haired genius spends his days surrounded by the worst humans in existence, using his brain to help the world before helping himself. With his IQ of 187, his mind works a million miles a minute, but sometimes he still needs help. That’s where my job comes in.

I joined the BAU a year ago, and was instantly drawn to the resident genius. He was timid when I first met him, as if scared the world would break him with everything it decided to throw at the sweet man. Slowly, I captured the heart of our resident genius, who was now my best friend. Over the course of the years, he became my favorite person. On cases, I would make sure he took time to drink water and rest when possible, bringing him snacks when his brain was wrapped in his geological profile. I made it my mission to teach the genius to love himself as much as he loves others.

Paperwork days were when I really got to see his bright smile and soft laughter. It became a running joke between us. Whenever Spencer would get up to grab us coffee from the kitchen, I would steal his phone to change the wallpaper to something silly. Every time he would check his phone for updates, he would see a new silly picture and grace me with a shining smile and chuckle. Even for these split moments in time, I knew I had distracted him from the morbid things littering our desks. His smile lit up the bullpen, leaving butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, my own smile gracing my lips. He would always shake his head before changing it back, already knowing he would find a new wallpaper later that day. Luckily for me, today was a long, dragging paperday which means I had plenty of time to meet my Spencer-Smile quota for the day.

First thing this morning, I got my hands on his cell. Pre-coffee brain, the only thing I could think of was the most ridiculous picture of our own Derek Morgan. The image was one Penelope graced me with, a photo he attached when shamelessly flirting with her during our downtime. As quickly as I could, I set the lockscreen and gently placed the device back on his desk, almost in the right spot although I’m sure Spencer would notice it had been moved. I sit back in my chair, slowly starting to spin as I see Spencer make his way back to our desks, two mugs in hand as his glasses begin to slide down the bridge of his nose. I shoot up to wrap my hands around the steaming mug, the warmth like a warm hug. I pull the mug up to my face, smelling the delicious scent of coffee created perfectly to my specifications. Sometimes boy genius’ memory has its perks. Settling back at my desk, I sort through the mound of files for the day in anticipation.

Looking up from my own cases, I look across to Spencer who has his face buried in a file, his finger trailing down the pages taking my mind into places it shouldn’t go. After an hour he still hasn’t seen his wallpaper, plastering a frown on my face. I pull out my own device, immediately texting a gif of Stitch saying hi to “Pretty Boy”, hearing his phone ding almost immediately. Looking across to Spencer, he almost spits out his coffee seeing the ever flirtatious Derek Morgan gracing his screen. The reaction sent me into a whirlwind of laughter, my head thrown back, almost cackling at the poor man.

As I calm down, wiping the tears from under my eyes, I see Spencer looking at me with his signature smile, making my heart flutter.

“That was a good one, Y/N. You really got me this time.” He chuckles, looking at this screen again before looking back at me. “Might have been your best one yet,” he says as he works to change it back. The poor technophobe had to learn because of me how to change his wallpaper since he realized I wouldn’t stop anytime soon. He’s still a tad slow but watching him try to work through it makes my heart happy as I return to my own files.

As I try to work through my own files, an IM from the tech queen herself pings my computer.

P.Garcia: “Changed Boy Wonder’s wallpaper again? When are you going to tell him?! Your puppy eyes give you away, darling. You can’t lie to me.”

Y/N: “Darling Penelope, I would never lie to you. Alas, you continue shipping something that will never sail..” I reply to her, hoping she gets the gist.

Although Spencer lives in my thoughts rent free, that’s where he’ll stay. As much as I wanted him in my arms instead, it simply wasn’t going to happen. I close my messages before trying to actually get some work done. I’d rather not stay late yet again due to my tendency to be a bit scatterbrained.

***

Coffee break number two rolls around and I already have the perfect picture planned. Reid scurries into the kitchen desperate for more coffee and I rush to his desk. Pulling out his phone, I send an image to it before saving it. It is one of my all time favorites. A movie night Spencer and I shared. I convinced him to let me pamper him under the reasoning of some well deserved self-care. Surprisingly, the man went along with my antics, although fighting me on this gem. The image is a sneaky one that Reid doesn’t even know exists. During our self-care night, I tried to take pictures of him looking as cute as ever, but he kept blocking me. Luckily, Spencer fell asleep before his mask came off leaving the perfect opportunity to snap the evidence. There is Spencer in all his glory, curled up on my couch in the light blue robe I saved for him that was covered in little clouds, a purple face-mask clinging to his cheeks, trying to avoid his eyebrows.To top it all off, he wore a bright pink headband to push his hair back decorated with bunny ears. The picture shows the soft side of our boy, a side I wished he would show more.

Throwing his phone back on his pile of files, I sit back at my desk, nonchalantly sipping my now cold coffee. Seeing Reid shuffle back to his desk, I wait for him to pick up his phone with my mug resting against my mouth. Spencer readjusts his frames as he settles in his chair, looking me in the eyes before looking at his phone. Instead of his normal chuckle, a pout graces his plush lips. Although his lips are normally a favorite of mine to stare at, the pout twists my gut.

“I thought you didn’t get any pictures of me that night,” he mumbles, giving me puppy eyes that could give mine a run for their money.

Despite my pride in the picture, his tone makes me feel just a little guilty. “I’m sorry, Spence, I thought you were so cute when you were napping. I didn’t want to make you upset.” I pout, the butterflies disintegrating as the moments pass. Rummaging through my drawer, I find my sack of trail mix and toss it to the dark-eyed man. “Here, take my trail mix, I know it’s your favorite,” I offer, a small smile painted on my face. Spencer’s eyes land on me, lips turning up once more into the smile that never fails to take my breath away.

“I appreciate it, but I can’t take it. I know it’s basically the only thing you eat on your lunch break.” His call out causes heat to rise into my face.

I stay insistent though. “I want you to have it. I don’t like making you sad.” I shoot back, giving him my infamous puppy eyes. Even Aaron Hotchner falls for them, there is no way the doctor could resist.

“Okay,” he starts, automatically having me rush across to his desk to give him the snack. “On one condition,” He finishes, making my face fall once more. Spencer never lets people just give him a present, he always does more for others. “Since you’re giving me your snack, you come with me to get a proper lunch since you need food and I could use the hour away from these files.” He smiles at me, already munching on the trail mix so I have no choice but to agree.

“Deal. BUT, I want pancakes if we’re going,” I reason with him, plopping back in my chair.

“IHOP it is.” He chuckles, the sound resonating in my brain as we both hurry through our respective files.

***

At coffee break number three, Reid stands from his desk, scrunching his nose to fix his glasses as he reaches across to snatch my mug from my desk. Hiding my face in the file until he walks away, I turn to see him shaking his head, knowing I’m about to change his wallpaper yet again.

Once I see him turn the corner, I stretch over to grab his phone he conveniently left square in the middle of his desk, giving the man yet another excuse to talk to her. Flipping through the camera roll, I hear a chuckle from the desk a few feet away. Looking over, I find the one and only, Derek Morgan shaking his head at me.

“What’s so funny, Thunder? Sad the attention isn’t on you anymore?” I tease him while trying to find the perfect picture.

“I just find the pining that goes on between two supposedly brilliant people entertaining.” He chuckles as my jaw drops, turning to him. “Come on, Princess. You don’t think we don’t all know you and Pretty Boy fancy each other, do you? It’s obvious to everyone except the boy himself.”

I shake my head. “He’d never see me that way, Morgan. This is just for shits and giggles.” I breathe out, settling on an image of our feet in front of the TV screen, mismatched socks adorning our feet while “Beauty and the Beast” plays in the background. He sports a neon pink sock along with a navy blue sock covered in planets, while my feet claimed one sock covered in different moon phases, the other covered in little alien creatures. Placing his phone on his desk, I settle back at my own, shooting Morgan a closing, “You’re just seeing things, Morgan.” before burying myself back in the file at hand.

Moments later, my mug is sat directly in front of me before Reid sits at his own desk. Automatically picking up his phone to check, my tummy flutters at the smile he releases while staring at the screen for a moment before looking at me. Making eye contact, I notice a slight pink tint to his cheeks, before he looks back at the image.

“This might be my favorite one yet,” he murmurs, adjusting his glasses without looking away from the screen. I feel my cheeks heat up, getting warmer by the second, but I cannot tear my eyes from the man who holds my heart without even knowing it.

***

“Hey Y/N. Ready for lunch?” Spencer asks, tearing my eyes from the IMs Garcia floods me with daily.

“Ready when you are!” I reply, jumping at the opportunity to get away from the files scattered on my desk. You’d think serial killers would take a day off sometimes. Shuffling to my feet, I grab my keys from my desk and grab Spencer’s hand, dragging him to the elevator with me.

“Seems like it’s more ready when Y/N is.” He chuckles, straightening his glasses once he comes to a stop in front of the silver doors. As we step in, Garcia frantically waves at us, before sprinting into the bullpen as the doors close.

“Well, you’re in luck, Pretty Boy. You get me as your personal chauffeur to lunch.” I beam at him as he goes bug-eyed.

“Lucky? In your death trap, Y/N?” He chuckles, putting a flabbergasted look on my face.

“Hey!” I yell at him, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “My car has lasted 15 long years I’ll have you know, and she runs as smooth as ever,” I shoot back, immediately leaving him behind when the doors open. “Maybe I’ll just go get pancakes without you then.” It’s playful when I lock all the car doors except for mine, and he knows it.

That doesn’t stop him from playing along. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry Y/N! Will you ever forgive my poor soul?” he jokes, holding both his hands over his heart as he begs for forgiveness. Unlocking the doors, I giggle at his antics before heading to the restaurant.

***

“Y’all ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?” The server returns to the table with our coffees, along with an apple juice for my inner child.

“Yes ma’am. Can I get the plain pancakes with eggs, as well as a side of bacon and sausage?” Spencer asks while gathering both our menus for her. “Of course, sugar. What about you darlin’?” she turns to me as Spencer dumps almost the entire sugar container into his mug.

“I’ll just have the chocolate chip pancake, please!” I smile at her as I steal what’s left of the sugar from the man across from me.

“No problem, that’ll be right out for y’all.” She smiles at us before heading off to the kitchen.

“Did you know chocolate chips were invented by Ruth Wakefield because she decided to chop up a chocolate bar and add it to her cookie batter?” Spencer looks to me as he starts with factoids. “And white chocolate isn’t even truly chocolate! White chocolate is made with a blend of sugar, cocoa butter, milk products, vanilla, and a fatty substance called lecithin. Not that it’s a surprise, considering it doesn’t even taste like chocolate. Probably because it doesn't contain chocolate solids.” he rambles as I stare at him with stars in my eyes. “However, dark chocolate is loaded with organic compounds that are biologically active and function as antioxidants. These include polyphenols, flavanols and catechins, among others. Dark chocolate also has a list of different benefits proven from consumption.” He finishes, taking a sip of his coffee as I continue staring at the man.

“What ever would I do without you, Boy Wonder?” I say, seeing Spencer’s face heat up at my remark as he hides behind his mug.

“M-me?” He asks, as if he couldn’t believe it. He shakes his head in disbelief before I could respond, showering me with many more factoids while waiting for our food rather than accept my compliment.

“Alright, here’s your food darlin’. Let me know if there’s anything else I could do for y’all.” The server tells us, shooting us a smile before moving onto another table. Spencer takes his time cutting up his food, dousing his plate in more syrup than pancake. Meanwhile, I dig into my pancakes as if it’s the last thing I will ever eat.

Halfway through my own pancakes, I look up to see Spencer looking directly at me with a look I couldn’t quite distinguish.

“Why are you staring at me?” I ask him, almost seeming to pull him from a trance before responding.

“Oh. Uh, you have chocolate on your face.” He tells me, seeing my face flush at the information. I grab my napkin and quickly wipe my lips making sure not to miss a spot. Little did I know, there wasn’t a single speck on my face.

“Is it gone?” I ask him, hoping not to embarrass myself further.

“Oh, yeah it’s gone.” he smiles, returning his focus onto his own plate.

Going back to eating, I keep sneaking pieces of the bacon off Spencer’s plate, causing him to smile each time.

“Hey Spence. I have a question for you.” I tell him, shoving a piece of bacon in my mouth.

“And what would that be, Y/N?” He asks me, sipping his coffee.

“Why is it every time we come here you order sausage and bacon, if you never touch the bacon?” I ask him, looking at him with a puzzled expression.

“Would you like my honest answer?” He pushes back, as if I would want anything else from him. I nod with a mouth full of pancakes, earning a smile while he responds. “Because I know you’ll always steal the bacon from my plate but will never actually order it yourself.” He smiles at me, returning to his own food leaving me speechless and even more red.

Finishing up our plates, Spencer takes initiative to organize all of the empty dishes so our server has less work. Giggling at his antics, I pull out my phone to check the time, seeing we still have plenty of time before our break is over.

“Are we getting milkshakes?” he asks me, sipping the last of his coffee before adding the mug to his carefully organized dish-pile.

“Of course we’re getting milkshakes, what kind of question is that, Spencer?” I look at him, almost appalled he would assume we weren’t. “We each have a sweet tooth I’ve ever seen matched by anyone else, why would you ever assume I would say no to a milkshake?”

“I wasn’t sure if we had the time, I didn’t want to make us late.” He explains, shaking his head yet again at my child-like antics.

When the server returns, we both order the largest mint-chip shakes they had before returning to our usual banter in waiting. Not long after, the server returned with a single shake.

“I’m so sorry sugar, apparently we only had enough ingredients for one mint-chip. Can I get y’all something else?” The server asks us, feeling bad she couldn’t fulfill our order.

“You take the mint-chip, Spence. I’ll order something else.” I push the shake toward him as he blocks it from getting to him.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not worried about it.” He replies, fighting me over a milkshake.

“Spence-” I begin to argue before he abruptly cuts me off.

“Would you like to share the shake with me, Y/N?” he asks me, looking me directly in the eye. I froze for a moment, taken aback at the offer from the germaphobe in front of me.

“If that’s okay with you, Spence. Then, sure!” I respond, checking if it was okay with him.

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t okay, Y/N.” He shoots back, chuckling at me before asking the server for two straws. The man in front of me steals more and more of my heart with every passing moment.

***

Going up the elevator to the BAU was a constant battle between us. Spencer secretly gave the server his card so I wouldn’t even have a chance to fight him on paying.

“You gave me your trail mix, Y/N! That’s the whole reason I asked you to get lunch in the first place! Why would I let you pay when I extended the invitation?” He shoots at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Shooting him a look of discontent, we both sit back at our desks, feeling 2 pairs of eyes staring at us from a few desks over.

“Don’t look now, but I think Tweedledee and Tweedledum are staring at us.” I lean over to whisper. Reid tries his best to look up at them, nonchalant as possible. Despite the boy being a genius, he is anything but sly, looking just in time to see Derek and Penelope snap their heads to whatever was on his desk. Giving them a smile, Reid picks up his own file to return to his own tasks for the day. However, the task only lasted so long before the genius needed yet another cup of coffee for the day. Heading off to the kitchen, I quickly grab the phone he left on his desk on his break, trying to plan the perfect image.

Before I could get far, I was abruptly stopped in my tracks. Staring at the homescreen on his phone, I couldn’t understand how I hadn’t noticed this before. Had this been in front of my face the entire time? Staring at the screen, I see myself and Spencer from our weekly movie nights. I had all of our silly photos, yet I had never seen this one. I see myself, puffed out cheeks with my eyes crossed, pulling at my ears to make myself look like a monkey, but my eyes can only look at Spencer. He hadn’t made his silly face. Instead, the man before me is staring directly at me, the sweetest smile across his lips. His little nose scrunch in full effect, his beautiful hazel eyes creased in the corner from his smile. That smile that could melt my heart in two seconds flat. Staring at the screen for what felt like centuries, I refocus on my surroundings when I hear his soft voice behind me.

“Wow, Y/N. Getting a little slow with the changes now, are we?” He laughs, before noticing the look on my face. Stopping dead in his tracks, he looks at me confused more than ever. Not being able to form words, I raise my hand to show him the wallpaper, the perfect image of us. His eyes go wide, his mug almost slipping through his fingers.

“Y/N, I-” He starts.

“Spence… Where did this picture come from?” I ask him, looking back at the screen before me. “I’ve never seen this one before,” I whisper, before Spencer puts his hands over mine, the mug now living on his desk.

“I, uh. I took this one before making a face, I just couldn’t resist.” He whispers, pulling my chin up gently between his two fingers, looking me dead in the eye. “Y/N…” He starts, glancing down before gazing back at me with the same look I saw at the restaurant. “I couldn’t resist because I wanted to keep a physical copy of one of the happiest moments of my life. And I care about you... More than care about you! You make my days so much brighter when you’re around. You’re the only person to ever know me, the real me. And I..” he trails off, working his confidence up to finish his thought. “I love you, Y/N. And that picture was saved, locked away on my phone so I could be reminded how much you mean to me, and how much you care on some of my darkest days. I love you, Y/N. It’s the only thing I have locked away because it’s the moment I knew I was in love with you.” He finishes, breathing out as he waits for me to react. Stunned into silence, I stand there looking at the man, seeing his face turn to panic. “It’s okay if you do-” He starts, stunned when he is cut off by his plush lips being covered by my own. He slides his hand onto my cheek, holding my face as he returns the affection.

Pulling away, I look him dead in the eye, I pull out of his embrace to my own desk, grabbing my phone. Returning to his side, I unlock my phone to show him my own hidden homescreen, a grin spreading on my cheeks from the flood of emotion. From our self-care night, it is quite possibly my favorite image of the man. He was in his robe, bunny headband and mask, but he was trying to block the images from being taken. His hand was raised in an attempt, but I could hear the laughter radiate from the image, the smile making my heart swoon at every glance. Looking between me and the image, Spencer’s jaw drops at my own revelation, before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. Burying my face in his neck, I murmur my own “I love you.” Before a whistle from the peanut gallery beside us breaks it up.

Shooting a look to Penelope, I see she has the biggest smile plastered on her own face, her rosy cheeks probably stinging from the sheer joy painted on. Morgan sitting beside her lounges back in his own chair, shooting a wink our way.

Returning to our respective seats, I can’t help but steal glances at the man beside me. When he catches me, I can’t help but giggle.

“Hey Spence. How long was I oblivious to your homescreen?” I ask him, curious as to how much of a dumbass I truly was. Seeing his cheeks flush pink, he turns to me with guilt in his eyes,

“Y/N.. as much as I would love to take the credit, I don’t know where the wallpaper came from. I can barely change it back after you mess with it.” He confesses, a shy smile on his face. Laughing at his technophobe ways, it finally registers that he didn’t actually set the wallpaper.

“Wait, then who changed it?” I ask him, before hearing stilettos and boots scurrying down the hall, laughter trailing behind them. Looking back at my boy, those eyes stole all my words away, and that smile… the smile I had seen so many times before but never knew the intention, the smile I fell in love with, I knew he would forever be my always.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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thestarrynightslover · 4 years ago

Text

So Many Times Before

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 3,190

Warnings: Discussion, yelling, some angst.

Summary: (y/n) and Jay used to be best friends who had always, secretly, wanted more. Now, after years of not seeing each other, what happened to all those feelings?

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first actual fanfic and I’m quite unsure about it (especially since English isn’t my first language), but I really wanted/needed to give some use to my obsession with Jay Halstead, lol. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

"So, honey, you are never gonna believe who I saw the other day at the district..." You remember your dad saying, in a conversation that made your heart skip a few beats, weeks ago.

"Oh yeah? Who?" You asked with a soft smile on your lips, not paying much attention at the moment.

"Jay Halstead." He said simply as if just waiting for you to freak out. God, your dad really knew how to make you drop your cool-girl act.

"Oh, that's nice... Wait. What??? Did you say Jay? What was he even doing there? Is he okay? Did he get into some sort of trouble? How can we help?" And there it was, you were totally losing it and your dad just stood there with that smug smirk of his, that says: I knew this was coming.

"Relax, (y/n/n), he’s okay. He was just there to get some files from a case my unit was handing over to them." That would've been a completely acceptable statement if Jay Halstead wasn't still in the army for all you knew.

"Sorry, handing a case over to them?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, apparently that scrawny kid — who's not so scrawny anymore — is, now, a detective working with CPD's Intelligence Unit."

"What? But when did he leave the army?" By then you were drifting off the conversation with your dad and he knew it, so he did you the favor of leaving you alone with your thoughts and memories.

Now, with the very same (well, not the same, he really wasn't scrawny anymore) Jay Halstead standing right in front of you, that moment with your dad inevitably came back to mind.

"Wow, (y/n) (y/l/n)!" He said with a huge bright smile that made you wanna go back to your high school days, yep the smile was that awesome.

"Jay Halstead. Wows are definitely in order." You said between giggles. "Oh my Gosh, it's been forever! How are you doing?"

"I'm- I'm- I'm good, thank you. How are you?" He looked absolutely shocked as he scanned you upside-down.

"I'm good too. You look great, by the way."

"Thanks," he smiled again. Wasn't he ever gonna stop doing that? "you look, hum, you look great too!" He said that, while looking at you in a way that was, for sure, making your cheeks heat up. "So hum-" Your phone just had to start ringing at that moment, didn't it?

"I'm so sorry, but I gotta take this. Work." You said, waving your phone in front of his face.

"Oh, okay, no problems, go ahead!" Jesus, he was acting like a teenager. After all these years how was it even possible that you still had so much effect on him? He started thinking, as he watched you take a few steps away and confidently boss someone around over the phone, was that really you? His high school best friend? Because who could tell? You were generally so quiet and shy with everyone. You would never lead any groups, almost choked on your words every time you had a presentation... Remembering that made Jay think of a moment in particular, when he first knew he loved you as more than just a friend.

You were 16 and he was 17, a year ahead of you in school too, as he was already a senior. But you guys never really minded that. How could you, anyway? Jay was your best friend in the world (okay, your only real friend after Will left for college).

The two of you were walking back home from school, as you always did, him dropping you off at your doorstep – even if that meant he had to go back a few blocks every day, all he cared about was making sure you got home safe.

That day was different, though. He stopped you at your house's fence and said he needed to tell you something important. God, your heart literally stopped, as you thought you knew exactly what he was gonna say. "Oh, jay-"

"No, please, (y/n/n). Just let me tell you, otherwise, I'll lose my courage." He stopped for a second, breathing hard and watching your expression attentively. "I, I, um, I need to tell you that… That I, um… That I enlisted the army." He said like he was ripping off a band-aid.

"What???" You were shocked, to say the least, "You did what, Jay?" You asked again, whilst trying to calm your nerves.

"Look, don't be mad at me, just let me explain, please." He pleaded with you. "I just need to get away from here and you know it, (y/n), you know why" You did know why, just, God, the army, seriously?

"Jay, you don't need to do that." You tried reasoning with him.

"Of course I need to, (y/n/n)!" He said and you could see him beginning to get upset. Or was it desperation? "I can't stand him any longer! I just can’t.” Geez, you didn’t want him to go. You definitely didn’t want him to go, but you could see the sadness in his eyes when he said that. Still, you tried a little more:

“But what about your mom? Your brother? What about me?” You felt yourself blush after that last part, but continued: “Jay you’re really important to me… my best friend, my… my… my only friend! I can’t lose you.”

“And you think that that doesn’t kill me? Will and my mom will be just fine, they’ll miss me, sure, but they’ll be fine. You on the other hand? I don’t wanna leave you! Especially knowing that you’ll have to go through the rest of high school alone…” He looked genuinely apologetic and concerned “That’s why I told you before anyone else.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” You stated simply.

“Tell me you don’t want me to go, and I won’t.”

“What? You’d… You’d really do that for me?”

“Of course, (y/n/n)! You mean the world to me and you’ve gotten me through so much already…” He sounded sincere, but you also knew what led him to make such a drastic move and you couldn’t just let him throw away what was probably his best shot at getting out of Chicago for you. You wouldn’t.

“Jay… I could never ask you something like that. You’re right. I know why you’re making this choice.” You said and tried to smile a little so that he’d stop worrying about you. Your life was better and easier, in many ways, because of him, so you couldn’t or wouldn’t make his any harder than it already was.

“Are you, are you sure? Because I came here ready to argue with you about this. To try hard to make you understand my decision, but now that I’m actually here, talking to you about it…” He looked so confused and you only wish you could pull him close to you and say that everything was gonna be okay as long as you two were together. Just like he did with you on the hard days, but you couldn’t. He deserved better from you.

“I’m sure! Look, I know what I said before, but… But I promise you I’ll survive this without you! It’s gonna be harder and a lot more boring… But I’ll be okay, you don’t need to worry.” At that moment you looked down to your feet, unsure if you really had it in you to let him go like that. But of course you did because you loved him. So you went on, “You said this is how you get outta Chicago, so you should do it. You’re my best friend and I love you. And I really just want you to do what’s best for you. What’ll make you happy.” You said with a small smile, even though the tears were already in your eyes.

And that was when he knew he loved you, for the first time, as more than just a friend. The way you supported him – like no one else had ever done –, even though it pained you… That really stuck with him. In Jay Halstead’s opinion, time and distance and other people all sucked. Because they had pushed you away from him. Well, he was to blame for that too, but now you were standing right there. At his District. That’s gotta count for something.

As you came back, he noticed you looked upset. “Everything okay?”

“What? Ah, yeah, sure. Just work stuff. Anyways it is a huge surprise to see you, Jay.” That made his heart drop, you were surprised to see him?

“Oh, yeah? I thought the reason you were here was that your dad told you this is where I work. I mean, because we ran into each other the other day…” Now it made sense. Of course your dad would wanna play matchmaker between you Jay! Even more, now that he was a cop.

“Oh, God, he did mention something about you the other day. But you’re telling me that he isn’t here?” At that, Jay just looked at you like you were crazy.

“Today? I haven’t seen him… He works at the 26, no?”

“Yeah, I know he does. It’s just... He told me to meet him here for lunch today. Something about a joint op. Anyways now I know why he said that.”

“What? He lied to you, then?” Jay asked, laughing his ass off at your cost. Unbelievable, you being played by your cupid father and Jay Halstead laughing at you. He stopped when he realized just how angry you were getting. But the stupid smile was still there.

“Forget it, this was a waste of time.”

“No! Wait, why don’t I take you to lunch instead?” He shot you such a charming smile that you could have said yes to marrying him at that moment. “C’mon, at least you don’t end up with an empty stomach.”

“I gue-” You almost said yes, but, thank God, your brain went back to working properly and you remembered how you promised to never let yourself fall for Jay’s “ways” another time. “Actually, I already spent most of my free hour here chatting with you, so now the only way I won’t be late is if I just grab something on the way back to the office.” You saw him opening his mouth and said: “And I can do that by myself.” You added so that he wouldn’t have a chance at convincing you.

How can Jay Halstead make you feel like this after all this time? It's absolutely ridiculous because the man hurt you the way he did, he left you behind (for a good reason, but still), and you just spent the rest of the day torturing yourself for being too rude with him?

You have no self-love. That has to be it, because, now that you left work, you're calling your dad just to embarrass yourself and make him feel like the achieved cupid. Oh, right. And to beg him for Jay's address. This was the wrong move in so many ways, but you just had to go there.

Or at least that’s what you’re telling yourself as you reach his building entrance. There it was: 3B - J. Halstead. You pressed the button hoping he would be home. He was; he answered. Okay, why did you do this again?

“Hello?” You hear him calling out.

“He- hey! Hum, hi it’s (y/n)...” He doesn’t even let you finish your rambling.

“(y/n/n)! I mean, hum, (y/n). Hey, let me buzz you up!” With that, the door opens and you get inside, you’re so unsure about this that the next thing you know you’re standing at his door about to knock, but being met with a grinny Jay instead. “Hey, I was pretty surprised when I heard your voice…” He states while running a hand through his perfect hair. “I honestly thought that I had somehow managed to order food and forget about it!” Gosh, he really wasn’t gonna stop smiling like that, was he? “Hey, you okay? What happened?”

“Hum, no, no, no! Everything is fine, really! Thank you for asking though, it’s very sweet of yours.” After hearing that, his concerned expression started softening until he started smiling again, damn Jay! “Actually, I’m here precisely because, hum, after I left the District, I ended up doing some thinking and got to the conclusion that I was a bit rude with you… Maybe even more than just a bit and I’m sorry. It’s no excuse, but I guess I just got upset because of how my dad played me and took it out on you! Anyway, it wasn’t right and I’m sorry.” Instead of just saying it was okay, or agreeing with you, he just gave you a funny look and silence. “So, huh, what do you think about that? Say something, please?” Still nothing, unbelievable. “Seriously? You’re giving me the silent treatment? What are we, ten?” Hearing that, he bursted into laughter, leaving you very confused, to say the least. Once he caught his breath, he finally started talking:

“Jesus, (y/n)! Of course, I’m not giving you a silent treatment!” He said while shaking his head and still laughing. “You say you were rude, but I was trying to remember exactly when, during our less than five minutes talk, that happened. I kinda asked you out and you declined, I’m not gonna think you’re a bad person because of that! Especially after all of our history…” That kinda surprised you, but, then again, Jay was never the kind of guy to get upset over some mild rudeness.

“Ah…” Was all you managed to say before he spoke again:

“But, since you’re already here, let me pry on your guilt a little and ask you to come inside for a beer, maybe?” You nodded your head giggling and followed him inside. “So, um, your dad mentioned you were moving back here…” He half asked, handing you a bottle.

“Thanks. Ah, yeah, the company I work for decided it was time for a transfer.” You answered with a shrug of shoulders.

“Oh I see, you’re an engineer, right?” The conversation was beginning to get awkward, and both of you could feel it.

“Yeah,” you said while calculating how fast you could make it to the door after standing up from the couch, “chemical engineer, listen, it’s getting late, and I have an early morning tomorrow, so-”

“Wait, please don’t leave just yet.” He breathed out, softly grabbing you by the arm. “Ever since our fight that day I’ve been hoping for a chance to make things right between us, (y/n/n)...” At that, you just close your eyes and rub your fingers against your temples. “I never meant to hurt you, I swear!” Really? That was what he was going with?

“You never meant to hurt me? I crossed the Atlantic just to be by your side, leaving a lot of important stuff behind, and you didn’t wait a single moment to trade me for the first cover girl you could find, but you didn’t mean to hurt me?” You always thought you’d start crying if you had to confront him like that, but instead, you were just angry.

“(y/n/n), I’m so sorry! It’s just that I couldn’t be with you at that moment... I-”

“You couldn’t be with me? Right, because I wasn’t half of what they were… It’s not like you’re telling me anything new, really.” You tried to make it sound like nothing but, damn, that hurt deep.

“What? No, of course, not! You got it all wrong, baby!” Baby. He used the pet name you two sometimes used with each other to mock all those popular couples in school… “I couldn’t be with you because I was so messed up! I’m not proud to say it, but none of those girls ever meant anything to me! They were just a distraction from everything that was happening, from everything that had happened… You, on the other hand… (y/n/n), you were there at my mom’s funeral when I wasn’t! Don’t think I forgot about it!” His eyes softened a little. “You were my best friend in the world!”

“Oh my God! You still don’t get it? I didn’t want to be just your best friend, Jay! I spent most of my high school days just wondering when you were gonna trade me, your mere friend, for one of those pretty girls, who would happily be more than that to you… But you never did… Until that time! I was expecting to find you messed up! Because I knew that I wasn’t gonna give up until you got better! But, that?” Now there was just no stopping the tears that were rolling down your cheeks. He was on the verge of crying as well, so the two of you just stayed there in silence until he decided to speak again:

“I’m a complete idiot. That’s all I can say for myself. I’m so sorry I never realized it, (y/n)!” He seemed sincerely sorry, but you weren’t sure you could forgive him just yet. “You know,” he started, while laughing bitterly, “I made a real fool of myself with you, cause I used to dream about having a shot with you, romantically, I mean.” After hearing that, your jaw literally dropped, while Jay just kept laughing lightly. “Will even used to bug me about it, he’d say that you were just as fallen for me as I was for you,” he said, chuckling, and shaking his head, “and I never believed him, I’d actually beg him to stop saying those things whenever you were around because I thought it could make you uncomfortable…” You didn’t even know how to respond to that.

“Jay, I…” You began, but he interrupted you:

“You, um, you don’t need to say anything, if you don’t want to. Now I see that I hurt you a lot more than I thought I did, and I am so sorry! I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t, so if you ever feel like you can give me another chance, even if just at our friendship, I’ll be so thankful! The happiest man! But if not, well, I’ll just stay out of your life,” you could see how hurt he was, “because I don’t ever wanna make you cry again.” He said that but it looked like he was the one about to break into tears, so you did the one thing you could think about doing; you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. Just like you had thought about doing so many times before. It took him a while to correspond since he was sort of stunned, but when he did… Oh boy, it was everything that books always told you about, there were butterflies and fireworks, and you knew that your transfer back home couldn’t have come at a better time.

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telemna-hyelle · 3 years ago

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Loving Goes By Haps - Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO: TWO WEDDINGS AND A BABY

When Time first knocked on the door, he’d been a little concerned. Wars was an early riser; and while he may have had an unexpected late shift the night before, precedent said he should have been up by now.

Besides, Wind was arriving today, and Warriors (and Time, and Twilight) had been looking forward to it all week. They’d pretty much adopted him, after all, ever since that first day five years ago when Mrs. Impaz had dropped him off at their door, a tiny thing with big eyes, bouncing curls, a missing tooth and a band-aid on his nose.

If Wars wasn’t up… Time clenched his jaw and knocked harder. He kept on knocking, until he was pounding at he door, his heart rising in his throat.

Warriors wasn’t answering the door, and had been on a night shift. What if he’d been injured but didn’t notice and came home—he could be hurt or bleeding or dying, and he was Time’s little brother and he WOULDN’T LOSE ANYONE ELSE—

He kicked the door down.

He didn’t see Wars sprawled across the floor, bleeding and unconscious, as he’d half-feared, so instead he rushed through the apartment and swung open Warriors’ bedroom door—

Well.

Of all the panicked, half-formed scenarios his brain had created, this certainly wasn’t one of them.

His little brother was on his back on the floor, staring at this own hand while a girl Time had never seen before glared at him over the edge of the bed. Funnily enough, her hand was raised in the air as well—

Time was beginning to get an idea of what exactly had happened.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. First, he’d better check in with his little brother. Just because it lookedthe way it did didn’t mean his original fear wasn’t true.

“Wars? You okay?”

Wars’ head turned slowly to face time, a familiar look in his wide eyes. It brought to mind the time Wars and Twilight had been convinced it was a good idea to try and see if they could hit the tops of cars passing by with his wife’s prized tomatoes.

Wars swallowed hard and slowly began levering himself into a sitting position. “I, uh..” He swallowed. “I don’t know?”

Time sucked in another breath. “I meant, are you hurt?’

Wars quickly shook his head.

Time turned his gaze on the strange girl. “And you, Ma’am?”

The girl jumped, startled at being addressed, shoulders hunching defensively. She responded with a firm shake as well.

Time sucked in a third breath. Neither of them were hurt. Right. That was good.

Now what was he supposed to do?

“I don’t suppose either of you have an explanation for this?”

Warriors stared at the girl. The girl stared at Warriors.

Time pinched the bridge of his nose. “Care to explain, little brother of mine, how this happened on a night while you were on duty?”

A flush began to crawl across Wars’ cheeks, and he briefly glanced down in shame. The woman saw this, sensed weakness, and attacked.

“I have no idea who either of you are, or how I got here, and unless you can convince me otherwise I’m holding youat fault!”

She flung a hand out, finger pointed accusingly at Warriors. Warriors resented this accusation, color rising ever higher as he threw his shoulders back and glared at the accusing finger. “As Time just said, I was on duty, so I can’t imagine I had anything to drink. I couldn’t be at fault here!”

“Well, I would never have more than one drink at a bar, so unless someone messed with my drink, I can’t imagine I’d be drunk either!”

Warrior’s eyes went wide, his angry flush increasing. “Are you accusingme of something?”

“Well, if the shoe fits—”

“ENOUGH!”

Time’s roar slammed down like a megaton hammer, squashing any attempts at arguing and fully cowing both parties. In the ensuing silence, he could hear a baby crying.

Odd. He thought. I don’t remember any of the neighbors having small children.

Still, there were more important matters at hand than someone’s visiting niece or nephew.

Time took a deep sigh, ran a hand through his hair, and huffed the breath out in exasperation. After a moment he looked up, gaze fixed on the young lady wrapped in a blanket and scarf and was still weakly attempting to throw daggers with her gaze. Time suspected that most of her anger was a front; and who could blame her? He’d imagine that this situation would be a frightening one to wake up to.

“I’m sure this is a very uncomfortable situation, ma’am.” He said, with a small bow. “I’m sorry for any part I might have played in increasing your discomfort.”

The girl blinked, eyes wide and crimson above the scarf. Ah. He realized with a start. A sheikah.

He cast a glance over at his baby brother, and held in the urge to snort. A fine mess he’s gotten himself into this time.

“Oh,’ The girl said, shifting and tugging the blanket a little tighter about her. “I… thank you?”

Time accepted this with another nod. “Would it help if I introduce myself and my idiot brother over here?”

There was a brief look of offense that crossed over Wars’ face at that particular description, but to his credit, a look or realization quickly followed, and he chose not to say anything.

The girl nodded, and Time smiled, hoping it would make him look less intimidating that he usually did. “My name is Link Time Forrest, and that is my younger brother, Link Warriors Forrest.”

The girl blinked. “You’re both named Link?”

Both Links let out a sigh, and despite herself, the girl laughed. Then her eyes went wide, her back straightening and shoulders snapping upright. “Wait—are you the hero Link, sir?”

Time blinked. His full name wasn’t widely known (a plea for privacy for him and his family), so the fact that this young lady would suspect was… unexpected. Still, he gave a quick bow. “At your service, my lady.”

The girl flushed slightly, her ears turning red, but bowed in return. “Artemis Sheik, at yours.”

Time blinked again, and then a slow smile spread across his face. “Wait, don’t tell me—are you Impa’s daughter?”

Artemis nodded, and Time felt his smile grow into a grin. “I haven’t seen you since you were a baby!”

He looked at his little brother again, who was watching the two of them with wide eyes. Time didn’t bother to bite back a smirk this time.

A fine mess indeed.

“All right, Miss Sheik, I have pancakes and bacon next door in #31, so why don’t you come over when you’re ready and we’ll discuss this like civilized people,” He raised an eyebrow at both of them, and both Wars and Artemis looked away sheepishly, “and try to figure out exactly what happened last night.”

Artemis considered this for a moment, then nodded again. “Thank you, Mr. Forrest, I’d appreciate that.”

“Good.” Time turned to go, but sent a look over his shoulder at Wars. “Come along and let the girl have some peace.”

Wars felt a flush crawl up his cheeks again (just after the last one had finally died down), but he obediently climbed to his feet and began to follow Time. Just as he got to the door, however, a thought occurred to him and he turned back, bowing quickly.

“I’m really sorry for whatever part I played in what happened last night, and I’m especially sorry for taking my confusion out on you. That wasn’t right of me at all, and—” he gulped, words failing him. “I’m sorry.”

He risked a glance up, and while Artemis’ gaze was still guarded, it was no longer angry and spitting sparks.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft. “I… I appreciate it. And I… I suppose I am sorry too, for accusing you without any proof.”

Wars shrugged. “I certainly didn’t appreciate it, but I understand where you’re coming from. So, uh… I guess we’re even?”

Artemis nodded again, and for some reason, Wars felt a warm flutter in his stomach as more heat rose to his ears.

He was not entirely sure what to make of this sensation, so his militarily-inclined brain seized upon the most effective strategy: retreat.

He bowed quickly, mumbled a goodbye, and fled.

He caught up with Time just as Time was about to step through Wars’ front door, which was now sagging on its hinges.

He shot his older brother a dirty look. Time met this look calmly, before his one-eyed gaze darted over to Wars’ bedroom door, before returning to examine Wars with what appeared to be a suspiciously knowinglook about him.

Wars decided he did not like this look at all, and scowled. “Are we going to stand here all day?”

“I wasn’t the one lingering.” Time said loftily, and Wars ground his teeth. Still, Time stepped out into the hallway—

And came face to face with their entire group of friends congregated in the hallway like a flock of very confused cuccoos, and Wars’ nephew was holding a baby.

Time and Wars stared.

All the other boys stared back at them, eyes wide.

The baby gurgled.

Time sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “I've already discovered enough new family members for one day, Twilight, please tell me that baby isn't yours.”

Twilight’s mouth dropped open, offended. “Of course it’s not my baby, Dad!”

“After the morning I’ve had,” Time pointed out, “I don’t dare to put an ‘of course’ on anything at the moment.”

He stared at the baby, then sighed. “…everyone inside before the pancakes get cold. We can solve this on full bellies.”

The boys all promptly trooped into apartment #31, though Wind hung back, bouncing up and down a little the balls of his feet.

Time pushed back the exhaustion the situation was putting on him, and smiled, opening his arms wide. Wind’s smile lit up like the sun, and he needed no further invitation. Scrawny eleven-year-old barreled straight into Time’s chest, weedy arms wrapping around and holding tight, and Wind grinned up at the older man.

“I missed you!” He beamed, and Time smiled back, settling a hand on golden waves and ruffling fondly.

“I missed you too, sailor,” Time replied, and hugged the boy just a little bit closer. Farore knew he loved all those boys his son and brother had befriended, but Wind was special. “Want some bacon?”

Wind’s grin was all the answer Time needed, and Wind darted back, only to grab Time’s hand and tug him towards the door. “C’mon then, let’s go before Legend and Hyrule and Twilight eat it all!”

And Time let Wind drag him through the door, and let the little sailor steal another piece of his heart at the same time.

They were in the kitchen a minute later, with seven boys crowded around Time’s table, and plates already stacked high with pancackes. Only the combined might of Sky and Twilight’s sense of propriety, and the dread of Time’s inevitable Face of Disapproval kept the pancakes uneaten. Wind cheerfully pushed his way through the throng to the seat that had been saved for him (between Wars and Twilight), and climbed on, rising up on his knees to survey the food with an excited grin.

“This looks really good, Mr. Time!”

“Yeah, so can we eat it now?” Legend piped up, crossing his arms and scowling.

Time didn’t even blink, and sat down in his chair (which remained vacant through the power of fear). “Patience is a virtue.”

Legend grumbled and slid lower in his seat.

Time raised a quelling eyebrow, and Legend slid down further, though noticeably silent this time.

“Now that everyone is quiet,” Time said with a poignant pause, “Wind, would you like to begin the meal?”

Wind straightened up, puffing his chest out at the responsibility. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes and tried to lower his voice, so he’d sound all cool and solemn like Time did. “To Din who made the earth, to Nayru who created the seasons, and Farore who, uh,” he screwed his face up, trying to remember how it went, “--made all the growing stuff, we give thanks for the food.”

He peeked out of one eye, peering across the table at Time. The old man smiled faintly and gave an approving nod, and Wind beamed, satisfied he’d done a good job.

And that was the queue for chaos to begin.

Hands and forks shot across the table, snatching at pancakes and bacon. The syrup bottle was tossed back and forth like a hacky sack, the butter dish sliding along in it’s wake. Conversation was lost in the furor of the Meal, all focus devoted to stuffing as much down their gullets as they could.

The only one not eating was the baby, currently nestled in the crook of Twilight’s arm as he furiously stuffed his face with his free hand.

It was this impressive sight that met Artemis as she came through the door.

It was Wild who noticed her first, as she froze in the doorway and stared through at the carnage. He lifted a hand and waved, smiling through stuffed cheeks. “Hey there, lady I don’t know!”

All movement immediately ceased. Warriors looked up from his forkly war with Legend over a particularly fatty piece of bacon and froze.

His loss, as Legend immediately snatched the bacon and stuffed it into his mouth.

Wars didn’t even notice.

Artemis stiffened for a moment, realizing she was the focus of everyone in the room (except for Sandwich-Zelda, who was currently absorbed in stuffing some of Twi’s hair in her mouth), but she was Artemis Sheik, so she raised her chin and strode in, shutting the door and bowing slightly to the owner of the apartment.

“I was promised pancakes and bacon?”

“Of course,” Time said, being the only one unaffected by her presence. Instead, he simply rose from his seat and stepped aside, picking up his plate and going over to the counter to eat.

“Time’s never let me sit in his chair,” Hyrule whispered with a pout. It was a cool chair, with a comfy cushioned seat, arm rests, and carvings all over the dark wood.

“That’s because you’re a gremlin,” Four whispered back, and Hyrule’s pout increased.

Sky hurried to put a plate down in front of her, and Warriors pushed the greatly-decreased platter of pancakes over towards her, though he couldn’t manage to make eye contact.

Quietly, Artemis served herself, before bowing her head and whispering the same words Wind had spoken earlier. Then she looked up and said, “Thank you for your hospitali—is that a baby?”

“She’s Sandwich!” Wind piped up with a grin.

Artemis blinked at him, greatly confused.

“Never mind that,” Legend, drawing himself out of his slump and leaning across the table, trying to draw her attention away from the baby. “Who are you, anyway? I’ve never seen you before.”

Artemis looked down at her plate. Warriors viciously stabbed a bite of pancake.

Time chewed a piece of bacon slowly, his gaze calm. He swallowed, cleared his throat, and fixed his gaze on Legend. “Miss Sheik has requested my assistance in solving a situation.”

His tone was firm and no-nonsense, the message clear: It’s None of Your Business.

Legend slumped back in his seat again, sulking. He didn’t like to have puzzles right under his nose and not be allowed to try and figure them out.

“Speaking of,” Time added, his gaze sweeping over the kitchen and examining it’s state. Plates were mostly bare save for grease streaks and pools of syrup. “Since it seems like you barbarians have alreadyfinished eating me out of house and home, why don’t you give Miss Sheik and I some privacy so we can have our discussion?” He paused, tipped his head thoughtfully, and added, “Wars, I’d appreciate your assistance as well."

Legend sulked even more at the prospect of Warslearning juicy gossip. Twilight, meanwhile, tilted his head to one side thoughtfully and patted Zelda on the back.

“What about us, Dad?”

“We can head to Wars’ apartment for privacy, so why don’t you boys all play with Wind and the baby until we’re done?”

Essentially, ‘keep everyone occupied and out of the way’. Twilight nodded, and grinned down at Wind, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Wind beamed up at him.

“Got it, will do.”

“So what are we gonna do?” Wind asked, wiggling excitedly in his seat.

Sky reached out hopefully. “Can I hold Zelda?”

Twilight clutched the baby closer. “I’mholding her.”

“So what, are you just going to hog the baby all the time?” Hyrule folded his arms, sending him an unimpressed look.

“Sharing is a virtue.” Legend said loftily.

Four frowned at Legend, arching his eyebrows. “You kept trying to steal Warriors’ food.”

“Exactly.” Legend sniffed. “I’m helping him share so he becomes more virtuous, clearly.”

“What about me?” Wind piped up. “I wanna hold Sandwich!”

Wild and Hyrule’s hands shot into the air. “Me too!”

Four added his hand to mix. “Me three!”

Twilight smirked. “I thought you were Four.”

Hyrule choked on a snort. Four rolled his eyes.

“Hold on, guys,” Sky held his hands up. “Calm down, I have an idea.”

“Oh, yeah?” Legend raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

Sky got to his feet and walked over to a nearby cabinet. “Let’s settle this like civilized people.”

~~~

“Wow, Legend,” Hyrule wasn’t even bothering to hide the grin in his voice, “I didn’t know you could hold so many cards at one time.”

Legend glowered down at his hand. “Shut up.”

He had 27 of them, 24 of which were yellow.

He couldn’t remember when the color had last been yellow, but it hadn’t been anytime recently. He was pretty sure they’d caught on to the yellow supremacy in his hand, as everyone had very deliberately gone out of their way to avoid ever changing the color to yellow.

Next to him, Wind tossed down a wild card, leaving his hand with only three remaining. Legend caught his breath and tried not to stare greedily.

“Blue.” Wind said with a beaming grin.

The cards crinkled in Legend’s hands.

He could see the malicious glint deep within the bright blue depths of the boy’s eyes.

With a growl, he snatched a card off the top of the deck, and glared murderously over the edge of his 28 cards at anyone who dared let out so much as a snicker.

Unfortunately for Legend, they seemed entirely unaffected.

Attention moved on to Sky and Twilight, who sat next to the poor unfortunate soul that was Legend.

Sky had two cards.

Twilight had called Uno last round.

“Ready to face defeat?” Twilight smirked, bouncing Zelda pointedly.

Sky hummed. “Am I?”

And with that, he laid down a Wild Draw 4.

“Uno.” He said, and smiled smugly.

Twilight stared down at the card.

“Don’t you have something to be doing?” Sky prompted, his voice innocent and sweet.

“If I wasn’t holding a baby right now, I’d punch you.”

“Well, that won’t be a problem next round, if it makes you feel better.” Sky paused to think. “Though then I’ll be holding the baby, so I guess you’re out of luck.”

Twilight sucked in a deep breath.

“Oh, and the color’s green.”

With a growl, Twilight grabbed four cards off the top of the deck, and decided to join Legend at the scowling-at-cards-club.

Wild and Hyrule both had a decent amount of cards in their hands, so they sadly laid their cards down with wistful looks at the baby.

Four put down his fourth card, leaving him lagging behind Wind at three, who put down his own third card: a green 4.

Everyone stared at Legend; as he was the last hope for preserving the stalemate just that much longer—

“HA!”

With a triumphant yell, Legend slammed down a yellow 4.

Everyone else groaned, except for Sky, who beamed as if he’d won the tournament at the Picori Festival (which they all recognized because he had in the past).

“Couldn’t you have done anything to stop him?” Wild scowled down at his own hand, which had seven cards to its name.

“Give him a break, that’s the first card he’s laid down in five rounds,” Four cut in.

And Sky calmly put down a green 4 of his own.

“I win.”

Everyone else groaned again. Sky ignored them and reached out his hands. “Hand over the Sandwich.”

“Are we really calling her that now?” Four whispered.

“I guess.” Hyrule whispered back.

“As an alternative, how about Zelly?” Twilight offered.

Wind pouted. “What’s wrong with Sandwich?”

“Nothing, I just thought some variety would be nice,” Twilight diplomatically said with a smile, and Wind considered this.

“Well, I guess Zelly sounds pretty cute—though not as cute as Sandwich.”

“It’s a tough act to beat, all right,” Wild said gravely.

“You haven’t given me the baby yet, Twi.”

With a sigh, Twilight gave the newly-dubbed Zelly one last affection rub of his cheek on her baby-soft hair, and reluctantly passed her on to Sky. His friend carefully gathered the baby close, tapping her tiny fingers with his own large one.

His grin immediately went soft, and he bounced his arm gently. “She’s adorable.” He whispered.

“She is, isn’t she?” Twilight agreed, propping his chin on one fist, his cards forgotten for a moment.

“Yeah, way too cute to be put in a box.” Wild said, leaning over to try and get a good look. Four elbowed him back before he slid his knee into the draw pile. “Why do you think that was?”

Legend and Hyrule exchanged glances before shrugging. “No idea,” Hyrule said. ”The lady who gave it to us didn’t say anything. Just wrote down an address.”

“Have any of you given the box a closer look?” Four suddenly asked. “Maybe there wre some clues we missed.”

“Feel free to look for yourself,” Twilight said, and got up to go and grab the box.

While they were waiting for him to return, Wind bounced a little excitedly. “So, are we playing for seconds and thirds an’ more?”

~~~

Warriors sat on a kitchen chair he’d pulled into his pseudo living room, as the couch was currently the throne of one Artemis Sheik—or, Warriors realized with a gulp, is her name Artemis Forrest, now?

Or Sheik-Forrest, or Forrest Sheik, or-or-or Wars didn’t really know, as he’d never been married before.

He swallowed another gulp of air.

Time leaned forward, having claimed Wars’ armchair with Older Brother Rights, and rested his chin on his laced fingers.

“So,” he said, “Miss Artemis, would you like to describe what you remember from last night?”

Artemis shifted, pulling nervously at the sleeve of her wrinkled blouse. It was a nice blouse, not exactly what Wars would expect from someone going out drinking, but nice; a pretty grey color that matched well with her eyes. Her pretty eyes.

Stop thinking stupid thoughts, you stupid brain.

“My friend Marin just moved back in for the semester, so I drove out to visit. We went out to a nice little pub for dinner and a drink, but I only took one because I’d need to be driving back later. Besides, I never drink very much.”

Time nodded slowly. “Sheikah protocols?”

She nodded. “Precisely.”

Wars swallowed hard again. The Sheikah were not to be messed with, especially their leader, Impa.

What exactly had he gotten himself into?

“And then?” Time asked. “What happened next?”

Artemis tapped her fingers on one elbow. “Marin and I talked for a while, and…” her brow furrowed. “And I woke up in this apartment, married to some weird stranger.”

Ouch.

Time was quiet for a long moment, before turning to Wars. “And what do youremember from last night?”

Wars rubbed the back of his neck. “So, I was called in to cover someone’s shift, and I was patrolling the streets. It got late, and then the next thing I remember is waking up this morning.”

“You didn’t stop for a drink?” Time asked.

Wars scowled. “Of course not, I was on duty! What do you take me for?”

“Calm down, Wars.” His brother responded calmly. “I know your character, but it’s important we keep all our facts together and organized.”

Warriors sucked in a deep breath, counted to three, and puffed it out. “Fine, yes. No, I hadn’t stopped for a drink, and I hadn’t had anything to drink at all yesterday.”

Time gave a sharp nod. “All right.” He paused. “Well, that doesn’t seem to clear anything up. Now, do you have a marriage certificate?”

Both Artemis and Wars instantly turned red and turned away from each other. Wars coughed and cleared his throat loudly, struggling vainly to retain his dignity. He stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper that looked badly crumpled. “I, uh… I found it in the pocket of my uniform pants.”

He elected not to mention said pants had been on the floor.

Time took the certificate and unfolded it, looking over it carefully.

Wars held his breath.

“I’m no expert,” Time said at last, “But I have one of these myself and this certainly looks official. There’s probably no easy way to get out of this, but I can always take it to a lawyer friend of mine to look ove—”

“No!” Artemis burst out, her even tone tinged with some sort of distress. The brother’s heads snapped up, eyes wide.

The sheikah took in their looks and instantly flushed, fingers twisting together frantically in her lap. “I, uh, you see—the Sheikah—”

Wars was too busy staring at his flustered sort-of-wife, or otherwise he would have noticed a strange look come across his older brother’s face. Time blinked once, thought for a moment, and spoke up. “The Sheikah have their own set of laws governing them, and because of the circumstances of this marriage, it will probably end up becoming a huge mess.”

Warrior’s gaze was now fixed on time, but Time’s attention was fully devoted to Artemis. “If you want my recommendation, I’d advise to try and avoid bringing this situation to court until after you finish this year. You’re a senior, aren’t you? You have more than enough on your plate than trying to navigate cross-legal-system divorce law and the expenses that come with it.”

Artemis’ shoulders instantly slumped in relief, and a small part of Wars relaxed at seeing her distressed calmed.

That is, anyway, until the actual meaning of what Time had said finally filtered past his ears and into his tired, morning-fogged brain.

“Wait, what?”

Artemis turned to him and seemed to attempt to gather her nerves, straightening her shoulders and sucking in a deep breath. “Sheikah law is very complicated, and due to the situation settle the divorce could end up being drawn-out and expensive. I’d greatly prefer it if we postpone the divorce until after I graduate and have the time and funds to spare?”

Warriors considered this. She looked resolute, but her fingers still twisted nervously in her lap. Sure, he didn’t exactly want to be married to a stranger for close to a year, but he couldn’t imagine she wanted to either. And if she was willing to go through with it for now, well… he’d just graduated, after all. He remembered what senior year was like.

“All right.” He said at last. “I suppose we can wait.”

Artemis didn’t show her relief quite so obviously this time, having seemed to have somewhat regained her composure, but her whole aura seemed to relax.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet, but an unmistakable note of gratitude could be discerned, and discern he did.

Wars felt as if there was something else in play that he didn’t seem to quite get—but then, he wouldn’t be surprised if there were multiple somethings else at play. Sheikah worked most often in the shadows, and Wars knew Time understood them and their ways, codes and laws far better than he did.

Still, with a Sheikah for a wife (if only for a year), Wars was going to do his best to learn. Because his gut says something was off about this situation, and if Artemis was in trouble, well…

She was his wife now, and despite the unromantic nature of their arrangement, that made her family. And family watched each other’s back.

“So, what’s your phone number and address, so I can add it to our family address book?” Time asked, digging in his pocket for a small notebook.

“Oh! Uh, 111-278-3647, 814 Flat Lane, Kakariko, 18915.”

Time blinked down at the address. “You still live in Kakariko?”

“Yup! Is that a problem?”

“Well, no…’ Time drew the words out. “But that’s over a two hour drive away. Do you commute from Kakariko to get to your classes?”

Sheik nodded. “Yes?”

Time frowned slightly, tapping his notebook with a pen. After a long moment, he shot Wars a significant look.

Wars blinked back at him, bewildered.

Time sighed. “Well, how would you feel about rooming here instead? There’s a spare room in this apartment, and Wars can always go back to his old room in my apartment if you’d prefer.”

Wars straightened at this and opened his mouth to protest. His big brother shot him a look.

Wars closed his mouth and slumped back down in his seat.

Artemis shifted nervously, tugging at the end of her braid. “Well… to be honest, a much shorter commute would be helpful.” Red eyes darted over to where Warriors sat. “…though I’m not sure if I’m up to rooming with anyone.”

Warriors slumped further in his seat, accepting his fate.

Time nodded. “All right, that settles it. Wars! Pack your stuff up later today and get yourself settled back in your old room. I want you in there by tonight.”

His little brother’s head shot up, a look of incredulity on his face. “I don’t mind moving, if it makes her more comfortable, but by tonight?”

“Tonight.” Time said firmly.

“But—” Warriors seemed to be at a loss for words. “But you took over my room! It has your desk and case files in there! Where, by Farore, am I supposed to sleep?”

“I have full confidence that you’ll figure it out.”

Wars stared at his brother, desperation writing across his face.

Time stared back impassively.

“You’re really mean sometimes, you know that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

~~~

Back in apartment #31, a timer dinged.

Wind shot up eagerly from where he was drawing, practically bouncing across the room to where Sky was ensconced on the couch, cradling Zelly.

“Your fifteen minutes are up!” He crowed. “I won after you, so it’s my turn now!” He stuck his arms out expectantly.

Sky raised an eyebrow. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please can I have Sandwich?”

“I blame you for this, Legend,” Four hissed.

Legend stuck his nose into the air. “It’s a perfectly fine name and I stand by it.”

“Riiiiight,” Four said, and pushed to his feet, wandering over to the timer and re-setting it for fifteen minutes. He’d won next after Wind, after all, and there was no way in Hyrule he was giving up his spot.

Meanwhile, Wind had plopped down on the couch, next to Sky, and the older was carefully instructing the kid on how to properly hold a baby. It took a little bit of careful maneuvering, but soon enough Wind had his arms full of blanket and baby, who stared up at him with wide, curious blue eyes.

Wind stared back, his own blue-green eyes wide and full of wonder. “She’s really cute,” he whispered loudly, and all the other boys in the room grinned at the scene.

All the other boys, that is, except for Twilight and Legend, who were currently very occupied in glaring at each other over their colorfully plentiful hands. They were the only ones left in the game (Wild had called uno with one remaining Draw Four card, and Twilight was his unfortunate, necessary victim).

“Your move, beanie boy,” Twilight hissed.

Legend smirked. “Gladly.” He spat back, and dropped a card on top of the pile.

Everyone looked at it.

It was a blank card, and it had the words “Draw 100 cards” hastily scrawled across it.

It was a good thing the apartment door swung open, because a half second later and Twilight would have lunged at his adversary.

“No attempted murder in front of the baby, please.” Time drawled from the doorway, and everyone froze, heads snapping over to stare.

Time raised an eyebrow at the vast array of very curious gazes, considering them thoughtfully.

Artemis strode in, her head held high in an attempt to hide her nerves. Warriors trailed in after her, looking faintly like a dejected dog.

“I have an announcement to make.” Time said solemnly, and all the boys without the know exchanged eager glances.

“This is Artemis Sheik. Wars has generously lent his apartment to her for the time being, so she won’t have to commute from Kakariko.”

Hyrule and Wild exchanged glances and whistled. They both lived a long way outside Raurustown during summer (in different towns).

“Can you imagine trying to commute from our homes to college each day?” Hyrule whispered.

Wild frowned. “We’d probably get lost.”

“Get rid of the ‘probably’ and I’d say you’re right on the money,” Legend muttered.

Time cleared his throat, and silence instantly fell.

“I hope you all will do your best to make Artemis feel welcome whenever you’re here.”

There were various nods and mumbles of assent, but Legend decided that it was time to add yet more of his two cents to the conversation.

“I’m a bit surprised, old man.” He said, propping his cheek on one fist. “What prompted you to rent out Wars’ place to a stranger?”

Artemis and Wars shifted awkwardly.

“Well, it helps she isn’t a stranger,” Time drawled.

Artemis fixed her gaze on the ceiling. Wars found a spot on the opposite wall immensely interesting.

“She’s the daughter of an old friend of mine,” He finally said.

Warriors and Artemis let out a faint sigh of relief.

A faint smirk crossed Time’s face. At the sight, that faint sigh of relief from Wars and Artemis seamlessly transitioned into twin masks of dread.

“She’s also my little brother’s wife, so that helps.”

Dead silence fell across the room.

Zelly gurgled cheerfully in Wind’s arms.

Wild shot to his feet with a whoop. “AWESOME!”

“Why are you so happy?” Hyrule laughed.

“Simple!” Wild beamed. “Now I’m not the only married guy here!”

Zelly gurgled loudly once more, echoing in the sudden renewal of the silence.

Slowly, slowly, Time reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Farore help me, I don’t want to know.”

#tellie writes stuff #my fanfics #loving goes by haps #linked universe #warriors/artemis #i told you it was a sandwich #the sandwich wasn't a lie

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sabraeal · 3 years ago

Text

Not Necessarily a Virtue

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Practical Magic AU

There hadn’t been a plan when Obi picked up the phone.

All it had taken was one rogue text-- another case assigned to his social worker, one that was enough of an emergency that it his behavioral issues seem tame in comparison. Her chair rattles when she stans, its plastic back hitting the filing cabinets with a metallic tang, but her hands tremble more.

“This will be just a minute,” she says, smile plastered tight to her face. And then she leaves him there alone, his file open on her desk, flaws left out for the world to see.

It doesn’t bothered him. There’s no point, not when he already knows: he’s trouble with a capital-T, each failed family drawing him closer and closer to being unplaceable. Some people have a face only a mother could love, but Obi-- Obi has that for his personality. Though considering how each of his six almost-moms signed him away with a sigh of relief, walking out the plate glass doors without even a glance back, maybe he has the sort of personality that makes people reconsider whether they could be a mother.

So here he is again, freshly abandoned, back in the sterile halls of social services for the seventh time without a place to call home. He’s not even twelve.

Not that these people aren’t trying to change that-- he’s not some cat left at the shelter, free to a good home. Unless Kerry or Janine or the girl at the desk he didn’t get to read the name tag of wanted to sleep on their couch, they have to find someone to take him for the night. And he knows from experience, there’s always a family that believes they can change him. A young couple who thought all problem children needed was just a little extra love. By the time Kerry came back, there’d be good news waiting, a miracle crafted by three people who didn’t want to miss the Masked Singer finale. They’d pack him into the back of a car and ship him off to a new place to fail. Because no matter how many homes they tried to make for him, it’d never change how he felt.

Obi had tried, at first. He was just a little kid, wanting to be loved, but every home he went to itched like hives in his head, a constant buzz that set his teeth on edge and made him do anything, try anything to leave. He belonged somewhere else, somewhere not here, and he knew it like he knew Kerry’s other case had overdosed on a bottle of sleeping pills in his foster mother’s cabinet-- with an inexplicable certainty.

He waits thirty seconds after she leaves before he slides off the the plastic seat she’d put him in. They love these things, oddly shaped and in primary colors that make the little kids giddy, but Obi hates them. He’s undersized, and putting him in these kiddie rooms always makes people treat him like he’s eight instead of eleven, asking him about Blue’s Clues.

But that’s not why he gets up, not entirely. There’s a buzzing in the back of his brain, a knowing, and it makes him stand, his hand straying to the glass door. He can’t see anything outside, at least not anything besides more kiddie chairs and offices, but he steps out nonetheless. He steps out and, unerringly, turns to face the girl waiting for him down the hall.

“It’s you.” Her tawny hair stresses the elastic she’s trapped it in, too thick. It’s not one of those hair ones either, but one of those thick rubber bands they use on the produce in grocery store. It hurts; he knows because it’s common sense, but also because he just...Knows. Their eyes meet, and even though he doesn’t her name, they’ve known each other forever.

His mouth is dry when he asks, “Do you know me?”

“I saw you in a dream.” She takes a step toward him, her sneakers scuffed and worn, just like his. “You’re Obi. I’m Torou.”

He doesn’t know this girl. There’s a hundred ways she could get his name; one of them is sitting on a desk behind him right now. But when she looks up at him with eyes he’s only ever seen in the mirror, he holds out his hand. “Come here.”

His heart pounds with each mincing squeak of her sneakers on the tile. She’s taking too long and she’s coming too fast; each terrible second convinces him he’s making a mistake at the same time he’s doing what he was always meant to do. By the time she slips her hand into his, he’s trembling, but it doesn’t matter because they both are and this--

This is right. And he knows exactly what to do.

It’s holding her hand that he picks up the phone. He fucks it up the first time-- he gets that gross digital buzz before he notices the sticker beneath the speaker, informing him 9 dials out-- but the second one his fingers guide him, releasing the number he has no reason to know. A number he has no reason to believe will work, that could have just come from the weird recesses of his mind but--

But he’s not surprised when a man picks up. “Who is this? Do you know what time--?”

“We’re here,” Obi says, and it shouldn’t be enough, but it is. “Come pick us up.”

A specter arrives on the front walk at noon.

Obi knows by the hush in the office. Or really the weight of it-- it’s been quiet like this since last night, since he and Torou sat down on the big bean bag couch in the waiting room, and Obi announced they wouldn’t be letting go. His case worker had crouched in front of them, that sweet smile plastered to her lips, and told him that they’d only have to be separated for a night. But he’d known-- the way he always did-- that every word was a lie. His fingers tightened in her grip, narrowing his eyes until the woman shivered, and that was that.

Kerry stayed with them, of course; she’d slept in her office, under a blanket it’s clear she’s never used and had only just discovered wasn’t comfortable no matter how many Sesame Street characters were on it. They’d been tucked under another by a younger girl with trembling hands, her eyes darting between them as she smoothed out its edges. He’d heard them through the walls this morning while the rest of the office filtered in-- government buildings like this were always cutting corners, leaving things like this paper thin, stuff that would go up like tissue in a fire.

Do you think they’re twins? one asked. Trembling hands, he guesses, since her voice does as well, like a chihuahua in a sweater. I’ve heard about this happening with twins. They look and just know.

Can’t be, we have their birth certificates, says another. Kerry, probably; she might be a liar, but she’s one of the only people in this place that has her head screwed on right, too. Two different sets of parents.

And the man they called last night? This one is stern; their manager maybe. He’s not really sure how this all works; he’s not even twelve, and he can only just know so much. Who is he?

There’s a heavy pause. I...I don’t know.

So when he arrives, dressed like an undertaker and holding an umbrella beneath the bright New Mexico sky, the whole place goes quiet. When he walks it’s stiff, like it took a hundred volts to get him up off the table and he’s only just gotten used to the idea. Obi casts a look down at Torou, at where her hand is white knuckled in his, and thinks about how he knows things, and wonders just what she might be able to do.

The man enters, umbrella folding in a single neat motion, before he says. “I am Lata Forenzo. I believe you have my...niblings.”

Niblings, Obi learns, is like siblings, only sideways.

“It was a simplification,” Lata says, his voice a deep, hesitant gravel. He casts a speculative look at the taxi driver, adjusting the gloves on his hands. “Niece and nephew is an unwieldy phrase, and time, after all, is of the essence.”

“Is it?” Torou’s eyes are wide, and for the first time since last night, her hand leaves his, gripping on to the cloth at Lata’s knee. “Is there something after us? Those bugs, they’re not--”

“No.” Obi’s known his uncle for barely more than a half hour, but he knows he isn’t a tactile person. Even still, Lata looks down at Torou, his not-gold eyes somehow softer, and puts two fingers over the bones at the back of her hand. “But it is time to bring you home.”

Home is an island. It takes the whole night to fly in, and when they land the sun is just barely scratching the sky. Even still, there’s no stopping; Lata bundles them straight into a cab, shushing them before they can make much more than a peep.

“We’ll be home soon,” he says, and the next time he wakes them, salt stings Obi’s nose, and he’s being carried over a threshold.

“Are we here?” he slurs. The house is weird-- angular, really, with a hall so narrow he could kick out a leg and stop them up like a cork. He nearly does, just to be cussed, but he catches Torou still wrapped up in her blanket, lolling on the couch, and says instead, “Can you let me down?”

Lata hesitates, fingers stiff where they wrap around his knees and shoulders, but he nods.

Obi’s feet-- just wearing socks now, somehow-- press on the floor, and he knows: he’s home.

“Oh,” he breathes, hands flying out to steady himself. “Oh.”

When he looks up, Torou’s eyes meet his, round and wide. “I felt that.”

Her own feet swing down-- bare-- and the moment she touches the wide old planks--

“Oh.” Lata braces himself against the wall, the sound bitter on his lips. “So it’s true. There will always be two.”

They aren’t his words, Obi knows, but they’re important. They’ve got that feel, the same as when Torou said she dreamed of him. The sort that are going to be life-changing, one way or another.

But Obi’s had enough of that today. Enough of it for a lifetime. He glances over at Torou, and she nods. “Can we go outside?”

Lata blinks, eyes pulling from the wallpaper to fix on him. After a long moment, he says, “You know where the door is.”

Obi does, somehow, and when he opens it--

It’s paradise.

Home has rules too, loads of them. It’s quiet time from nine to eight, though Lata doesn’t much care if they’re sleeping, so long as they’re in bed. Teeth have to be brushed twice a day-- he’d glowered when Obi said he had good teeth and only needed the once, standing over him for a week morning and night to see the rule stuck. There’s only one dessert after dinner; Obi balked at that one, until he’d learned that a limit on quantity wasn’t the same thing as size. He and Torou find three old sundae dishes in the cabinet and pile them high with ice cream and every topping they can find, and when they slap Lata’s down in front of him, cheeks bulging with their own towers of sweets, all he’d does is give them that small, reluctant twitch of a smile and dig in.

They have to make their beds and pick up after themselves-- this house has treated us well, Lata tells them, it’s only right we take care of it in return-- and they have to tell him if they plan to play in the yard; but in return their sheets are always clean, and dinner’s promptly at six. When they come back in, sweaty and exhausted from the summer heat, there’s always a bowl of fruit waiting for them and cold drinks.

He’d known, in the way he always does, that this couldn’t last. So when summer’s heat began to cool, he’s not surprised to see Lata waiting on for them on the veranda, mouth pulled into an even grimmer line.

“It’s time,” he says, “for a Family Meeting.”

“School,” Lata says with the sort of relish and derision only a professor like him can summon up, “is starting. Which means there are new rules.”

Fingers brush at Obi’s, and when he reaches out, Torou’s fingers knit in his. He knows what rules these will be-- his parents had them to, the only ones they’d ever made. His mother had gotten down on her knees the night before kindergarten, nails digging into his shoulders, and used a voice so dark, so unlike her, he’d dreamed of button eyes staring into his for a week. His father had tossed out their Coraline DVD after that.

“Forenzos,” Lata starts, already sounding weary, “look after each other. So you’ll walk together, both ways, and if one of you gets into trouble--” he fixes them both with a stern look-- “I expect both of you to run.”

Obi stares. “What?”

“You’ll come back right after school, unless we have previously discussed plans,” Lata continues. “You’re far too young for...cellular phones, so I expect that if you make plans with friends, you will discuss them with me the night previous, or you will come home first and ask permission. Not,” he murmurs, just barely audible, “that I expect you’ll have much trouble with that.”

“Is that...” Obi’s jaw works. “Is that all?”

“I expect you to keep up your grades.” Lata’s brow furrows, taking them in, as if he’d never once questioned whether or not they would be stellar students. As if most people don’t look at the both of them and see future high school flunk outs. “If they are slipping, I’m afraid I’ll have to limit your free time until we are able to bring them back to an acceptable level. Homework is to be done at the table, and once you are done, your time is yours until dinner.”

Torou’s hand squeezes his. “We?”

Lata blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You said ‘we.’“ She clear her throat, eyelashes fluttering with nerves. “If our grades are bad, you said we would, uh, fix them.”

“Of course.” His mouth pulls at the corners, annoyed. “How could I possibly ask you to rectify such a thing on your own? You’re already doing the best you can, if you still struggle, then it’s clearly something we both-- oh my,” he murmurs mildly, “she’s leaking.”

“Sorry,” she sobs, pink burning on her cheeks, the way it never did on his. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no.” Lata flails out, yanking a tissue from the box, shoving it into her hand. “I just...hope that you find this all fair. I was always quite good at school, but my sisters--” he glances at them, wary-- “varied. I hope I can only...encourage you to your best.”

“But what about...” Obi snaps his teeth around the words. If he doesn’t ask, then it won’t become a rule, and his uncle can’t be disappointed when he breaks it.

The pictures on the wall prove that they’re family, that Lata truly is his mom’s brother, even if they don’t share much more than a hair color. But Obi’s never seen it, the way he does in pictures of Torou’s mom, where there’s a flick of the hand or a cock of a hip that says they spent their childhood together, inextricably intertwined forever in ways they would never understand.

But Lata raises a brow now, and he sees it, that small thread that ties him to his mom, that says brother. “About...?”

“The other stuff,” Torou blurts out, coughing down a sniff. “He wants to know what we...”

Her words peter out too, like she can’t figure out what to do with them. He can’t stop knowing, and she can’t stop dreaming, and the thought of having to pretend they can is...tiring this time, in a way it never was in the system.

His mouth wraps around the words with a curious sort of wonder. “Other stuff?”

“You know,” she mutters, so small. “The weird stuff.”

Lata jolts in his chair, spine as straight as a poker. His hands press flat against his knees, and when he looks at them, the gray in his eyes in thunderous.

“This is the most important rule,” he tells them, voice oddly resonant, “you must follow it. Promise me.”

Obi’s heart sinks into his stomach, but he nods, fingers squeezing Torou’s tighter.

Lata’s hand presses heavy on his shoulder, leather flexing over cotton. “Don’t ever hide yourselves. Not for anything. Not for anyone.” Obi dares to look up, and Lata’s gaze is waiting to catch him. “Being...normal is not necessarily a virtue. There is no shame in being who you are, none at all.”

Or what you are, he doesn’t say, but his eyes do, loud and clear. He doesn’t say what that is either, but--

Obi knows. Just like he always does.

And if he didn’t, well-- he would have found out soon enough.

It’s a small island; small enough that K-12 are all squeezed into one school, though Lata tells them that by the time they go to senior high, they might have built another. It’s still not small enough for Torou and him to be in the same class, so he drops her off at the door with promises to find her at lunch and moseys down to his own. It puts him a little behind schedule, the school bell ringing on his heels, and when he steps in--

The room goes silent. Twenty pairs of eyes stare at him, round and wide, not a single person daring to do much more than breathe.

“Forenzo,” the teacher says, faint. “You must be...the Forenzo boy.”

“Yeah.” He grips at his shoulder. “Obi.”

“You can take your seat...at the back,” she says, before hurrying to the board, eager to put her back to him.

“I thought my mom said all the Forenzos died,” a boy whispers as he passes. “Except the old man, of course.”

“No, they just left,” says the one next to them. “Chased out. Because they’re, you know...”

Obi does; he always had, even before he had a word for it.

“I don’t think a boy can be a witch,” a girl says, thoughtless and thoughtful at the same time. “They’re wizards, or something.”

“Warlocks,” scoffs another. “Don’t you know anything? And they do blood magic with little girls--”

Obi grits his teeth, eyes forward. There’s two empty chairs in the back, one in the corner by the window, and the other next to it, and he steers toward that one-- window seats always get him in trouble--

And the boy next to it scoots away, fear bright in his eyes. Obi looks back at the teacher, but she’s writing her name on the board real slow, like she’s hoping this might solve itself.

Fine, he can take a hint. He takes the window, sliding in behind the desk. The girl in front of him scoots forward too, making sure her chair doesn’t touch his desktop, and he sighs. At least they’re all getting this out of the way first.

A bag drops, right next to his seat.

“Ms Kino!” There’s a girl there, smaller than everyone else, though her voice makes her twice as tall. In the morning sun, her hair burns bright like the horizon. “Can I change my seat?”

“Shirayuki?” The teacher blinks back at them, and Obi could swear she breaks into a cold sweat. “Shirayuki, I’m not sure that’s--”

“I can’t see the board from over there,” she says, every syllable digging in its heels. “There’s glare. Because I’m so small.”

Ms Kino squints back at her, and really-- there’s no denying how small she is, at least a head below Obi and he’s nothing to write home about either. “If you’re sure...”

“Great.” She drops into her seat with a thump as loud as thunder, setting out her notebook and pencil with the sort of purposeful efficiency that says there’s no doubt she’s here to stay.

Obi slips his out of his backpack too, so quiet so the other kids will stop looking at him like he’s going to set the place on fire, but he hears, “You’re new, right?”

He looks down, and there’s the girl, smiling across the aisle. “Yeah. I’m--”

“Obi, I heard.” She leans toward him. “I’m--”

“Shirayuki.” His mouth twitches. “I also heard.”

Her smile stretches towards a grin. “You know, Ms Kino likes group projects.”

He blinks. “Does she?”

She nods. “Would you like a partner?”

“She hasn’t assigned one yet,” he says, a little lost.

“She will,” this Shirayuki says, confident. The way he is, when he knows.

He nods, slow. “All right, so for the next one.”

“To start.” She fixes him with a look he can’t get out from under. “Are you eating lunch with someone?”

“Ah, yeah.” He feels guilty about it now, for some reason. “My um. Cousin.”

She brightens. “Great. I’ll show you guys the best place to sit.”

He’s been adopted, he realizes, like the way the cats around the house aren’t. And this girl means to keep him.

For once in his very short life, Obi doesn’t mind knowing. Just like he always does.

#obiyukibingo21 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #practical magic au #ans #there is so much to be written for this fic and i desperately want to write all of it #like honestly consider this a teaser for a fic i COULD write #one that would involve shirayuki obi and torou being childhood friends #and obi casting a spell of forgetting #and later shirayuki finding obi and torou again #after they have possibly murdered the resurrected then killed again torou's ex #and obi trying to hide that secret at the same time he's trying to keep shirayuki from remembering #while also desperately wanting her to remember because sure this Zen guy seems rich and nice but ALSO MAYBE YOU COULD LOVE ME???#like the notes i have for this potential multichap are CRAZY i wish to UNLEASH them #also LATA/GARRACK #and also Lata ruminating on love and loss and the complicatedness of inherited trauma #but uhhhhh with magic you know how it be

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thatfanficstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Feelings - Tony DiNozzo

Pairing: Tony DiNozzo x reader

Warnings: canon typical violence and situations, language.

A/N: 3500 words. Way longer than I’d intended. First time writing Tony x reader. Hope you like it.

***

Gibbs had his rules for a reason. You didn’t ask about those reasons. It was hard enough just remembering the damn rules without worrying about the back story that went with them. There was a rule for just about anything: dealing with attorneys, putting family first, not annoying Gibbs. There was even that one rule about not dating your co-workers that you were dying to know the origins of but were in no way brave enough to ask.

Unfortunately, there was no rule about falling in love with your co-worker. Sometimes you wondered if there was, if you could have avoided all this. I mean, you were so careful about following the rules to the point that Tony often made fun of you for having them memorized. If you were honest with yourself, you knew it wouldn’t have mattered. Hadn’t you tried everything you could think of to keep your heart from falling for his hazel eyes and lazy smile?

He was a player. But that didn’t stop your gaze from following him as he headed to the elevator and his latest date.

You reminded yourself he never took anything seriously even while you laughed at his latest prank.

He talked about movies way too much. It was obsessive really. That didn’t stop you from watching every film he mentioned, a bowl of popcorn in your lap and an empty space beside you on the couch.

Maybe that was the problem. Perhaps you were just lonely. Maybe—

“Y/N,” Tony’s voice pulled you from your thoughts and you realized you’d been staring at the same piece of paper on your desk for the last half hour. Shit.

You glanced up, eyebrows raised in question. “Yeah?”

His brow was furrowed and his gaze was filled with concern. “You okay?”

Your cheeks heated and you turned back to the papers on your desk. “I’m fine.”

Tony huffed. “If there is one thing I know, it’s that a woman is never fine when she says she is. So, what’s going on?”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing, Tony.”

The next thing you knew, he was right beside you, perched on the corner of your desk. If Gibbs and McGee were here you wouldn’t have to deal with this. McGee would tell him to leave you alone and Gibbs would smack the back of his head. They both respected your privacy. Your need to not share every aspect of your life. Why couldn’t you have fallen for one of them?

As you leaned back in your chair, you ran your gaze over him until you met his eyes. “Can I help you with something, DiNozzo?”

“It’s never nothing, Y/N. You’re always zoning out lately. Something’s bothering you.”

“I just didn’t sleep well. It’s not a big deal. Everyone has off days, today’s one of mine.”

He hummed as he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Normally I’d give you that, but this has been going on for weeks. So, what is it? Money? Are you sick? Have a fight with Abby?”

You just leaned back in your chair and kept your eyes on the man sitting on your desk like he owned it. He continued to list topics, pausing between each one to gage your reaction.

Suddenly, his brows shot up as he frowned. “Is it a guy?” The tone of his voice said that it couldn’t possibly be the right answer. It would have been so easy to fool him, but you couldn’t stop your eyes from moving away from him, afraid he’d see everything you were too afraid to say.

“It is!” There was an undertone to his voice you couldn’t quite place.

You ignored it, and him, to turn your attention back to the paperwork on your desk.

“I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“There’s nothing to say, Tony. Now can I please get back to work? I really don’t want Gibbs chewing my ass again.” You were far enough behind on your paperwork that Vance had said something to your boss. That had earned you a head slap and an admonishment about you knowing better.

Tony grabbed the pen from your hand and dropped it on the desk. “Come on. You know Gibbs doesn’t care about paperwork. He’s just passing along the ass chewing he got from Vance. Quit avoiding the question. Is this why you’ve been skipping out on our dinners?”

You sighed. Tony liked to eat and you liked to cook so you’d started inviting him over once a week. Lately you’d feigned other plans to keep from having to spend an evening concealing your feelings. “Actually, yes.”

“Nice. You start getting laid and leave me to starve.” He moved back over to his desk with a scowl on his face. “I thought I meant more to you than that.”

His affronted tone had you rolling your eyes. “I didn’t say anything about getting laid. And you’re hardly starving.”

“Tell that to my scale. I’ve lost five pounds since you quit feeding me.”

His disgruntled tone bothered you. “Are you okay, Tony?”

He shook his head but said, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just miss your cooking is all.”

His phone rang before you could respond. After a quick conversation, he hopped to his feet. “Johnson hasn’t showed up at home. Gibbs wants us to try his mom’s place while they sit on the apartment.”

***

Despite your suspect’s mother claiming she hadn’t seen her son in months, it was your experience that people tended to run home when scared. You hoped that’s precisely what this suspect had done as you were more than ready to close the case.

Tony parked along the curb at the end of the driveway so no one could pull out while you two were otherwise occupied. He took the front while you went around the back. He gave you a moment to let you get into position before knocking on the door. As you listened to the hum of him talking to someone, you kept your weapon trained on the back door. A moment later, the unmistakable feeling of a gun pressed against the back of your head. Shit. You should have done more than your cursory examination of the backyard.

“Easy there, sweetheart. Hands up.”

You did as instructed, and he yanked your weapon from your hand. “Phillip Johnson, I presume.”

“That’s me. Give me the keys to the car.”

“What car?”

He slammed the side of the gun into the back of your head. Not hard enough to knock you out but hard enough to give you an instant headache. “Don’t play stupid.”

“I don’t have the keys. I didn’t drive.” You forced the words through teeth gritted in pain.

He stepped up behind you to pat down your pockets. “Fuck,” he growled when he discovered you were telling the truth.

“Look, just go. It’s not like I can shoot you as you run away, you have my weapon.” You wanted to diffuse the situation, to try to control the fallout from your fuck up. He was angry and armed and was the type to start shooting people if he felt trapped.

“So you can scream for help before I get two blocks away? I don’t think so.” He pushed you toward the back door. “In you go.”

You gave a brief thought to yelling for Tony but kind of liked your brains where they were. Johnson had already killed once, what was to keep him from killing again? He shoved you through the house causing you to stumble more than once. You could hear Tony still arguing with the mother at the front door. Johnson stepped up behind you and pinned you against his chest with a thick arm, the gun now shoved against your temple. He walked you into view of the front door though you couldn’t see anything as his mother blocked the opening.

“Look, Mrs. Johnson, while I appreciate your position, the fact remains that we have a warrant for your son’s arrest. You’re gonna need to let me in to make sure he’s not here or we’ll come in anyway and won’t be nearly as nice about it. I’ve already called backup. They’re on the way.” Tony was using the placating tone he always used when trying to convince a suspect or a witness that he was harmless and reasonable.

“You come in and your friend dies,” Johnson yelled.

His mother was pulled from the doorway and onto the front porch behind Tony who had his gun drawn and aimed in almost the same moment. His eyes were glued to the weapon pressed to your head. His face lost what little color it had. “Let her go, Phil. You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, but I do.” He moved forward and slammed the door in Tony’s face. He shoved you and put some space between the two of you. “Close the blinds and the curtains,” he ordered. When you dared to look at him, he waved the gun as if to bring your attention to it. Like you could forget for a minute the situation you were in. Your eyes flicked down, spotting your sidearm tucked into his waist band.

Your brain worked through scenarios even as you did as he’d ordered. As you closed the last blind you caught a glimpse of Gibbs stepping from his vehicle. Your team would get you out of here. They had to.

***

It had been almost two hours. Once you’d secured the house to his satisfaction, Johnson had used your own cuffs to restrain you. Fortunately, he was an idiot and left your hands in front instead of placing them behind your back so you’d have less mobility. He was using your phone to talk to Gibbs periodically. He’d put the calls on speaker and you could tell Gibbs’ patience was wearing thin. You’d tried to talk to him during the first call and Phillips backhanded you with the gun still in hand. The whole right side of your face felt tight and sore. Asshole.

“What the hell is taking so long?” he muttered as he peered through a gap in the blinds. He glanced over at you. “Call him.”

You reached forward and pressed the button to call Gibbs and put it on speaker. “Gibbs,” he answered.

“Where’s my money and my car?”

“I told you it was going to take some time. If you want to forget about the money, you can leave right now. I’ll even give you a police escort out of town. Just let your hostage go.” You could hear the anger simmering in his voice.

“You have thirty minutes or I start sending her out in pieces.” He slammed his finger down on the disconnect.

“Well, that was monumentally fucking stupid.” So was pissing off the man with the gun but you were running out of time. You’d been waiting for an opening, but thus far hadn’t found one. It was time to make one of your own.

He shoved the barrel of the gun against the temple on the sore side of your face and you winced. Fucker. “What did you say?”

“You just confirmed that you have no problem hurting me. And you put a timeline on it. They’ll try to take you out now.”

Uncertainty flashed on his face and he glanced toward the windows.

“You were smart covering the windows, but they’ll be getting ready to send in a tactical team now. They’re probably already out front.”

After a second of indecision, he moved away from you to peek through the gap between the blind and the window. His gaze kept darting back to you. “I don’t see anything.”

You shook your head. “They’ll be prepping further down the street so it’s harder for you to see.” You gestured to one of the other windows. One that would put him close to you with his back turned while he tried to get a view of his impending doom.

As he moved to the new viewpoint, you leaned forward, shifting your legs so you could get to your feet quickly. The moment his attention was elsewhere, you launched yourself at him. He grunted as he slammed against the wall and window.

“Bitch!” He tried to turn, to get the gun up, but you didn’t give him even a single moment to recover. You couldn’t or that would be the end of you. Instead, you shifted your weight to come at him from a different angle. You drove him toward the ground, grabbing your gun from his waistband as you went.

The impact knocked the weapon from his hand. You pushed yourself to your feet and aimed your weapon. Johnson didn’t even notice as he scrambled for his own gun. You fired a round into the floor by his head and he froze instantly. “Give me a reason.”

He rolled over, hands raised in front of him. Your phone began to ring but you kept your attention, and your gun, on Johnson. “Couch,” you instructed.

The call had barely had time to go to voicemail before it began ringing again. If you didn’t answer it soon, things would get a hell of a lot more chaotic. Still, you waited until Johnson sat on the couch to move over and grab the other gun from the floor. You laid it on the table beside you.

Your phone started another cycle of ringing and you heard Gibbs on the bullhorn. “Answer the phone or we’re coming in.”

You answered the call on speaker phone, needing to keep your hands free for your gun. “You can come in, but I’m going to be real pissed if someone shoots me.”

A sigh of relief was the immediate answer.

“Johnson has been disarmed. I’m the one that fired the shot. See you in a second.”

It wasn’t even a breath later that the front door opened and people swarmed around you. You kept your weapon trained on Johnson even as he was pulled to his feet and placed in cuffs. A hand settled on top of yours and you followed the length of the arm to find Gibbs standing next to you. “We’ve got him. You can stand down, Agent.” His jaw tightened as he took in the injury to your face. His eyes found yours and softened. “Give me the gun, Y/N.”

You nodded and loosened your grip so he could take the weapon from you.

“DiNozzo, get her out of here,” he ordered.

You turned to your other side to find Tony. The smile he gave you was strained, but it was good to see it just the same. “Hey.”

His smile widened, became a little more genuine. “Hey.” He unlocked the cuffs and took them off before tossing them to Gibbs. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to steer you out the door and you relaxed against him, content to simply be in his presence after the last couple of hours.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he said as he led you to a waiting ambulance. “Let’s not do this ever again, okay?”

“But I was so looking forward to making it a weekly thing.” You sat so your feet dangled out of the back of the ambulance while the medic looked you over. Tony stood silently, arms crossed over his chest as he watched them work. You grit your teeth and flinched as they pressed against bruised skin checking for broken bones. You cursed outright when they found the bump on the back of your head.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have this checked at the hospital to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

You waved him away. “I’m good. Promise.”

“Y/N/N, maybe you should—” Tony interjected but you cut him off.

“I just want to go home, Tony.”

He looked uncertain.

“Please.”

He thought a moment more before saying, “Yeah. Okay.”

Your shoulders sagged in relief and you took the hand he offered you. Once you were on your feet, he stayed close but released your hand. Instead, he settled his at the base of your spine to steer you through the scene until you stood in front of your boss.

“They clear you?” Gibbs asked, looking between you and Tony.

“Sure did, boss,” Tony answered for you, sounding entirely too upbeat. You resisted the urge to smack him in the stomach.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes but nodded just the same. “All right. Take her home. I’ll see you both in the morning for debriefing.”

***

Tony was unusually quiet on the way home, which was fine since you didn’t really feel like talking. After the third time you caught him looking at you, you turned your attention out the window. It wasn’t until he parked the car that you focused enough to realize he hadn’t taken you to your home at all. You followed the familiar path to his apartment.

“Have a seat,” he instructed once you’d made it inside. He disappeared into the kitchen while you made yourself comfortable on his couch. When he emerged, he held a beer in one hand and a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel in the other. He placed the beer on the table beside you and handed you the makeshift icepack. You held it to the side of your face, flinching at the contact.

“Thanks.”

He nodded absently and began to pace the floor. Your gaze followed him for a couple of minutes before you interrupted. “What is it, Tony?”

He turned to you, his eyes wide. His gaze darted down then back up and he licked his lips. He pulled something from his pocket and set it on the table. It took you a moment to realize it was your phone. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and pink dusted his cheeks. “I should have given that to you earlier. You probably want to call this boyfriend I knew nothing about. But if you could wait a minute, there’s something I need to say first.”

“Only if you sit. The pacing’s driving me nuts.”

He grinned at that and sat on his coffee table. He was close enough your knees touched. You resisted the urge to press closer. When several minutes passed without him saying anything you spoke up. “Tony—”

“No. I’m sorry. I’m getting to it. I just usually don’t do this sort of thing.”

“Talk?”

“Cute, but no.” He licked his lips again. “Look, I lied to you.”

You frowned as you tried to follow what he was trying to tell you.

He sighed. “When we were talking about this guy and all those canceled dinners and you asked if I was okay. I said yes when that was the furthest thing from the truth. In my defense, I thought I would be okay. I mean, if he makes you happy, that’s what’s important, right?”

He pushed to his feet before you could respond and started pacing the floor again. “But then you had to go and get yourself held hostage. When I saw you with that gun to your head, I knew I’d never be okay again if something happened to you. If I lost you before I ever had a chance to tell you.” He stopped pacing and turned to face you. “I’m crazy about you, Y/N/N. I have been pretty much from the moment Gibbs introduced you to the team.”

You blinked as you tried to process the fact that Tony DiNozzo had just admitted to having feelings. For you.

“Right, well, that’s done. I’ll just go see what I have for dinner.” He fled to the kitchen before you could stop him.

Rather than calling him back, you followed him. You stepped into the doorway to find him leaning on the counter with his back to you and his head bowed. Your heart ached at that thought that he’d apparently been pining after you as much as you had him. “It was you.”

He looked over his shoulder. His brow furrowed as he met your gaze. “What?”

“The guy that I cancelled all the dinners for? That was you.”

He turned to give you his full attention. “That doesn’t make any sense, Y/N/N.”

You shrugged. “Well, see, I would have dinner with you. We’d watch a movie together. Maybe have a few drinks and I could fool my heart into thinking that maybe, just maybe we could have more. Then a few nights later I’d watch you hurry to the elevator so you wouldn’t be late for a date.” You closed the distance between you but didn’t touch him. Not yet. “My heart couldn’t take me playing pretend anymore. It hurt too much. So, I started making excuses.”

“And I was doing the same thing, only I was making dates, hoping someone could make me forget about you.”

“How’d that work out for you, DiNozzo?”

He rested a hand along the uninjured side of your face and ran his thumb across your cheek. “Not great. How about you, Y/L/N? Did you manage to get over me?”

“Not even close.”

His smile was radiant.

“Hey, DiNozzo.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Kiss me already.”

#tony dinozzo x reader #anthony dinozzo x reader #tony dinozzo x you #anthony dinozzo imagine #ncis imagine

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julie-and-the-himbo-ghosts · 3 years ago

Text

It Started With a Whisper

I posted this on ao3 a few days ago but never had the time to post it here so here y’all go!!

Summary: After Julie and her Phantoms rescued Willie from Caleb, Alex starts to feel like his and Willie’s relationship is a little off. They talk about it, go on Museum Not-Date Part 2: The Electric Boogaloo, and everything works out okay for the anxious gay drummer and the skater boy.

Words: 1794

Content warnings: Alex has some anxiety briefly (not an anxiety attack but still), a few mild swears

“It started with a whisper /

And that was when I kissed her /

And then she made my lips hurt”

~~~

It started after they rescued Willie from Caleb for good. Alex and Willie’s relationship was the same, nothing had changed between them from their hug in front of the Orpheum and the moment Alex had pulled them out of the Hollywood Ghost Club himself.

But he couldn’t help but notice something.

They still hung around each other and went on little adventures together, but these days Alex was more likely to hang out with Willie and some of the band than just Willie himself. They still went on little outings together, but they never screamed in the museum together or disappeared for hours at a time just talking to each other.

Nothing had changed in the time between their hug outside the Orpheum and when Alex rescued Willie from the Club, yet everything had changed.

Alex missed them. God, he missed Willie so much.

So he decided to do something about it.

~~~

Alex waited for everyone to start filing out of the studio for a post-practice lunch before he laid a hand on Willie’s shoulder.

“Hey,” He said. “Can we talk?”

They turned their head just slightly to look back at him, and Alex watched as a succession of little emotions played across his face like Saturday cartoons. Confusing, curiosity, worry, and other microexpressions that passed too quickly for him to read.

“It’s nothing bad,” He assured him quickly, and Willie’s face softened slightly.

They both stood there for a second, waiting for Luke, Reggie, and Julie to make their way out of the studio. Julie shot him a quick look before she walked out the door, silently asking him if he needed her, and he just shook his head and watched the door click close behind his bandmates.

“I’ve…” Alex trailed off as he realized he didn’t know what to say. How was he supposed to say ‘We aren’t as close anymore’ and ‘I miss you’ and ‘I think I want us to be more than friends’ without sounding like an idiot?

Well, he thought, just like that.

“I’ve noticed we don’t hang out as much as we used to,” He continued. More unreadable emotions passed over Willie’s face. “And I love hanging out with you and the band, you’re all my family, but I just… I miss the times where it was just us. Just us, hanging out in the skatepark or screaming in museums. You know?” A slight, small smile grew on Willie’s face, and he felt himself doing the same. “So, I, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go out again, after lunch? Shit, not like out out, but like hang out, not ‘going out’ like a date or anything—” God, why did he have to be so awkward?

Willie put him out of his misery, smiling warmly at him. “I got you, hotdog.”

And wow, did that shut his brain down. They hadn’t called him that in a long time, not since the day Alex and the band rescued them from Caleb, and his brain was full of just “oh my God he called me ‘hotdog’ oh my God he called me ‘hot dog’ oh my God he—”

Say something, his brain scolded him, and he just scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “That’s— Great. Perfect. Okay.” Pull it together, Mercer! “So I’ll, uh, see you back here after lunch, then?”

Willie beamed at him. “It’s a date, hotdog.”

Alex couldn’t help but think that, in that moment, he was the happiest he’d been in a long time.

~~~

“So, where’re we going?” Willie asked as he shut the Molina’s front door.

Alex waited until they caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs to say anything. He opened his mouth to say something coherent, but then Willie was staring straight back into his eyes just a few feet away from him and his anxiety exploded.

There was no reason to be nervous, he knew; Willie was one of the people he trusted the most and they were just hanging out as friends. Well, “as friends” meaning “inviting him to go on a kinda-date because he wanted to confess his crush on them because he’s sad they haven’t hung out as much lately” friends.

So, like, not “friends” at all, he thought.

Willie cleared his throat, and he was sure that his head snapped up in a moment.

Shit shit shit they probably think I don’t actually want to hang out and I’m just being polite—

“You look like Ray just caught you sneaking out,” They chuckled.

And suddenly, there was a warm weight on his hand and Willie’s hand was slotted into his.

“So where are we going, then, hotdog?”

“It’s a surprise.” God, he hoped he didn’t sound as dumb as he thought he did.

Willie just smiled at him again. “Well then, let’s go!”

He tried to ignore the butterflies floundering in his chest as he teleported them both off the porch.

~~~

Alex poofed them into the museum and stood there for a moment while Willie figured out where they were. It only took a moment for someone to walk right through them, but they kept their hold on Alex’s hand.

“The museum, huh?” Willie said, a teasing note in his voice. “Are you recreating our first date?”

Alex’s brain short-circuited. He meant it as a joke, he tried to convince himself, they didn’t really mean it.

“Yeah,” He said quietly.

He gently tugged Willie over to the same bench they skated over the first time they went there together.

“Wow, I guess they never moved the bench back,” They tried to joke, but it just fell flat. “So, uh, what did you wanna talk about?”

This is it, his brain yelled at him, and it felt like his senses were turned up to eleven. He could feel every inch of his clothing hugging his body, the coolness of the cement bench, the soft warmth of their hand covering his; he could hear every single person’s voice in the museum, the hummm of the air conditioning somewhere up in the ceiling, his heart flailing in his chest, his breaths rattling in his chest.

He could also hear Willie’s gentle, concerned voice. “You okay, Alex?”

He didn’t respond, his brain overworked with all the sounds and textures around him.

The world bent around him, and suddenly they were outside the museum again and Willie’s arm was around his shoulder. The world quieted around him, and the only thing he felt on his body was Willie’s warmth.

“It’s okay,” They said, leaning their head on his shoulder. “You alright, Alex?”

“Yeah.” His voice was raspy.

“You sure? We can go home if you want to. You don’t have to do this now.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. The museum was just a bit much with all the people in it.”

“It’s more fun when there aren’t people around.” It was quiet for a second, and then: “Are you okay with telling me why you got so anxious in there?”

“It was just…” He trailed off, trying to find the right way to say it. “We haven’t hung out together in a while, you know? I mean, it’s not like we haven’t seen each other in ages, but it’s been awhile since it’s been just us. And I miss it, I miss us. And then I was so stressed about having a good time—” He left out the part about freaking out over the word “date”— “and there were way more people there than I expected and it was all a little too much.”

“Yeah, I get that,” He said. “You know you don’t have to work hard - or even work at all - when we’re hanging out together, right? I like hanging out with you . It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, it only matters that I’m with you, you know?” His teeth made a little click as he shut his mouth suddenly, and something clicked in Alex’s head.

He might actually feel the same way as I do.

“I was— I was also stressed earlier because I wanted to talk to you about something but I was too scared— too anxious to bring it up.” He started, and Willie raised an eyebrow at him. He took that as encouragement. “I did invite you over here because I miss hanging out with you, I’ll always miss hanging out with you, but it wasn’t just that I missed you as a friend. I mean, of course you’re one of my closest friends, that’s not what I meant, but I just—” He took a deep breath. “I see you as more than a friend? God, it’s not even a question, I don’t know why I phrased it that way, it’s one of the definite things in my life. One, my friends are my family, two, there’s nothing that my drums can’t fix, and three, I’ve had this totally ridiculous crush on you since the moment you flipped your hair out of your helmet and sent me into a gay panic spiral, and four, I would really, really like to be your boyfriend and go on dates with you and do dumb, stereotypical couple-y shit together.”

He finally stopped, catching his breath and waiting for Willie to say something. And for the longest time, he didn’t say anything and his anxiety started to spike again. “Of course, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to do any of that, we can just go back to being friends, but I just wanted to—” He had started to whisper, but Willie didn’t let him finish his sentence.

Before he knew it, their lips were on his and he was kissing Willie, oh my God he was kissing Willie, and everything melted away. While in the museum, it felt like his senses were dialled up to eleven and everything was pushing at him, but then, his senses were only tuned to Willie, to their hand gently cupping his chin, their faces pushed together in an awkward, perfect kiss, and their long hair tickling his face.

The kiss ended as quickly as it started, and Alex found himself immediately missing his warmth.

“In case I wasn’t clear, I wanna do all that ‘couple-y shit’ with you, too.” Willie’s voice was quiet, only just loud enough for him to hear. “And I especially want to be your boyfriend.”

“I think we can manage something like that,” He said with a grin.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them said anything else, Alex just drew him into another gentle kiss.

“It started with a whisper /

And that was when I kissed her /

And then she made my lips hurt”

~~~

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed): @rawwwra, @sylphrenas, @boggie-brainrot, @thegaylink, @julie-n-phantoms, @julie-and-the-queers, @im-not-fine

#kates writing again #julie and the phantoms #jatp #netflixwewantjatp2 #alex mercer #willex #willie nolastname #willie wilbur williamson #jatp fic #willex fic

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merryfortune · 3 years ago

Text

Happiness.

Ship: Ryoken/Spectre

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,293

Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Toxic Relationships, Healing, Past/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts

Ryoken had been happier of late.

That should not have been of Spectre’s concern, but it was. It was actually an entire root of anxiety for him.

Spectre had noticed it once he was off bedrest, coming out of his coma after his duel with Ai. There was a peculiarity to Ryoken’s behaviour. Smiles that were just a little bit too carefree for someone who had so closely and almost lost it all. Spectre wanted to assume that it was because all the Ignis were finally eliminated but he was certain that it was something else.

He recalled the ice cold fear that he felt in Ryoken’s arms very well. He was there when Spectre had woken up, with a start, like he had just come tumbling out of a nightmare but no. There had been nothingness, only an abyss. All there had been was a dream of darkness. The other Lieutenants concurred, their punishments were similar: just endless darkness per the coding of the Dark Ignis.

But even from that embrace, both celebratory and mournful, Spectre had sensed that there was something incredibly wrong. Or was at least going to be an aberration against what he considered normalcy. Ryoken’s strange happiness was absolutely the outcome of that precognition that Spectre had.

He had so badly wanted to enjoy the hug from Ryoken but his own melancholy had ruined it. That’s what Spectre had scolded himself for at first. Ryoken was so overjoyed that Spectre was safe and awake and he had ruined it. All because he was groggy and afraid. Afraid of losing what he had known for the past ten years.

What were the Knights of Hanoi to do, if their mission had been completed?

Was he necessary to Ryoken? Or needed by Ryoken?

Those were all questions that he had entertained for quite some time but never paid much attention as the answer twisted suicidally, after all. As Ryoken held Spectre, tears in his eyes, hugging him so tightly, Spectre would have preferred to have never woken up at all as he could have avoided all those questions from before that were now plaguing him worse than ever.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately for Spectre, things weren’t quite so fragile as he feared. Things didn’t break quite so ceremoniously as Spectre had expected. It almost felt like a holiday or a vacation but at ‘home’, how things steered away from their norm but without ever parting into unknown depths or territories. They still ate together, did work together, but their work was more mundane than their previous forays into cyber criminality. It was more piecework to put a little bit of money in the bank from people who had no idea they were hiring the infamous Knights of Hanoi’s upper echelon.

Yet it was this dullness and not quite peacefulness that made Spectre feel as though he were about to snap like a duressed rubber band. He repressed it, however. He did not want to - literally - rock the boat but it made him feel more like a ghost than usual. More of a shade than his usual self, some fainter mimicry of the person that he tried to be and no one noticed.

Why did no one notice?

He wished that Ryoken, at the very least, would notice that something was awry with him but Ryoken was happy now.

Why was Ryoken so happy now?

That question Spectre asked himself in his irritable despair shocked him. It wasn’t quite a revelation but it was an angle that he had not yet considered and mulled over in his olympian efforts to make himself feel worse whilst swaddling himself in the mantra that he was outwardly fine. It tied in well with his intuition that Ryoken was happy for reasons outside of the Knights of Hanoi’s mission having finally been fulfilled.

The realisation that followed next rushed down on Spectre. He needed to know what had happened to Ryoken to make him so seemingly happy. It was vitally important, Spectre convinced himself and so, he did what he considered what he did best. He tried to find out and he was very good at finding out things.

He didn’t like to proceed blindly, so he researched. He followed breadcrumbs and other trails where permissible but he was stalled out here. No matter how sly he acted, whether he was probing any of the Lieutenants or whether he trying to extract half-truths or the like from Ryoken.

Ryoken cottoned on fairly quickly, actually. Quicker than Spectre had hoped but that’s what he loved about Ryoken. But even so, Spectre felt rejected by the cold wariness I. Ryoken’s eyes as he asked, “Why are you prying into the events after your stasis? The matter has been long since resolved. It is none of your concern.”

And so, the rubber band that was Spectre snapped and he snapped back, “I know you are hiding something. I am sick of being left in the dark.”

Spectre stunned himself with how he sneered. How he snarled. How he snapped. He had never snapped or raised his voice at Ryoken. Ever. Over anything. His heart quaked with adrenaline and guilt but if Spectre was going to take the rare offense and embrace his rage, he decided that he best go all in, no matter the consequence or heartbreak. His fist balled up by his side and his glare was unlike Ryoken had ever seen upon his face before.

“I’m trying to protect you.” Ryoken sighed, a plea for Spectre to be reasonable and to relent was implicit to his exhale. To fall in line and be obedient per usual but no. It was time for the dog to bite it’s master.

“And what, pray tell, might you be protecting me from?” Spectre asked, his voice was tight and terse.

Ryoken’s face was pitiful, “From happiness.”

Happiness. That accursed word. It wasn’t the answer that Spectre had been expecting but he couldn’t say that he was surprised by it either. He had been taught from a very early age that happiness could be taken from him easily. Thus he ardently cherished and was grateful for whatever crumb that he could be given but he found it far more satisfying to be the vector that took happiness from others. It was only fair. Other children were happy, Spectre was not. It only made sense to him that other people were not allowed to be happy either. If anything, it was almost twistedly relieving to hear his decade long suspicion confirmed out loud. Even if it had to be by Ryoken.

Spectre’s irate expression said it all and Ryoken’s continuation of his statement was self-flagellating.

“My happiness, specifically. At least to start. I didn’t want you to have a bond with your Ignis lest I become second to it. When it was discovered that the best outcome for the Ignis was total elimination of all of them, I thought my selfishness noble.” Ryoken explained.

Spectre snorted. Became even more defensive than before.

“And I am still trying to protect you. I truly think this happiness would hurt you.” Ryoken said. “This happiness of mine you are so obsessed with because yes, you are excluded from it. Both purposefully and just by how the events of the Dark Ignis’s plan unfolded and occurred.”

“Just tell me.” Spectre snarled. He was getting teary in his frustration now.

His heart throbbed like it had been pierced as he recalled Earth’s death. Ryoken had salted that corpse well. He had done a very lousy job of trying to “protect” Spectre there with all the cruel things that he had said both in Spectre’s absence and his presence. Though if Ryoken was willing to guard this secret then perhaps he had learned from that incident. Perhaps Spectre should have cracked more during his duel with Lightning if his own nobility and loyalty was only going to peter out here.

“I had a duel with Soulburner and it felt more ceremonial than anything else. Myself, Soulburner, and Playmaker… it truly felt as though the Lost Incident had been put behind us and that is an incredibly freeing feeling and-”

“And not one I would understand, I take it?” Spectre interrupted Ryoken, sniveling.

Ryoken nodded sadly.

Spectre fumed. He felt alone. His face was red now and he bit his lower lip, begging his eyes to stop those damnable tears.

“I’m sorry-” Ryoken said, stepping forward, arms extended, for a hug.

“Don’t.” Spectre snapped.

With that, Spectre didn’t know what he might say next to his master but decided that was enough. He huffed, stepped aside, and made his retreat. He withdrew from the living room, letting Ryoken stand there, defeated and disappointed.

Spectre headed for his room and locked himself inside it. He had no idea what he was going to do now. His nerves were too set afire to sleep and all his brain wanted to do was pick apart everything that he and Ryoken had argued about. The compromise, he supposed, was to sit and stare at the wall. So, that’s exactly what he did. He just let his thoughts bristle and blunder, not even tiring of the awful emotions that he heavied himself with.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat at his desk for. Books that he had half attempted to read to take his mind off things strewn across it but he couldn’t make out the words in his anger and frustration. Then he heard a knock at the door.

“Spectre?” Ryoken called out. “I don’t want to leave our conversation like that.” He sounded pathetic.

“Go away.” Spectre told him, certain their fight would only escalate should they continue.

There was silence. It irked Spectre. It meant that Ryoken wasn’t walking away and letting things be. Per usual, he wanted to be the hero, the savior, the martyr. The whatever it was that he thought was.

A crackle of static disturbed the air. Spectre sighed. He supposed the intrusion to his room could be worse, Ryoken did have a master key assigned to his card, if he really wanted, he could open Spectre’s room and storm in. That crackle was Ryoken’s courtesy. Being a cruise ship, all the rooms were installed with speakers and radios. So, Spectre waited for an announcement meant solely for him in a state of irritation.

“Subject Number Four…” Ryoken began.

His voice cracked and Spectre knew he was holding back tears - or maybe he was afraid. Ryoken’s voice sounded distorted but purposefully so, like he was trying to make his voice sound higher, not to mention the echo as even whispering, Spectre could still hear him through the door. But it was how Ryoken had addressed him that disturbed him. Number Four. That was his label from the experiment; a number that suited him well, retroactively given his Ignis was the first to die and he, himself, was a ghost.

“I think you’re doing great.” Ryoken said.

Spectre sat excruciatingly still. He listened intently and somehow through the deafening sound of his heart racing in his chest. Was… was Ryoken…? A tear threatened to leak out the side of his eye. The imminent kindness was alien to Spectre as this was so familiar to how Ryoken conveyed his affection yet drastically different.

“You are braver and stronger than you realise.” Ryoken said. “It takes a very unique individual to smile and even laugh in the face of danger, I admire that. So think of three things that make you happy and never let go.”

Spectre got up and there was a hesitancy to his hand as he stood in front of the door. The passcode on his fingertips, reached out but not touching the plastic pad of the numbers just yet, and a lump in his throat. Even so, he spoke. He did as he was told. He thought of three things and he shared them with Ryoken.

“One, my Mother.” Spectre said, a tremble to his voice. “Two, beautiful things.” He typed in the passcode and his sliding door opened. He grinned but it was a very wobbly and wet grin. “Three, you.”

Ryoken smiled back and he was hugged by Spectre. Spectre buried his head in the crook of Ryoken’s neck and shoulders. Ryoken hugged him back.

“I’m sorry.” Spectre mumbled.

“I’m sorry, too.” Ryoken replied softly.

“I was… jealous. And anxious. I let that control me and I said some awful things, truly, Ryoken-sama, I apologise from the bottom of my heart.” Spectre murmured as he pulled back from the hug but Ryoken didn’t let him go, at least held his hands.

“I’m not entirely innocent either, I was being controlling and possessive.” Ryoken added. He shrugged, half-smiled. “The closure regarding the Lost Incident that we need is different, that’s… okay. I admire how unapologetic you are about your perspective and moving forward, I want to take inspiration from that in pursuit of my own happiness. So please, stay true to that as you pursue your happiness and healing. Even if we clash sometimes, and we will again as we pick up the pieces of what we need but that won’t change the fact that I care about you deeply. I love you, Spectre, and I don’t like fighting you.”

Spectre nodded, trying to ignore how he sniffled. Ryoken let go of one of Spectre’s hands so he could paw at his face, trying to make himself look presentable in the aftermath of all this. He then hugged Ryoken again and whispered, “I understand, I promise, I love you, too.”

Ryoken smiled, gladdened, consoled and though Spectre’s embrace was the tightest possible squeeze on him, it, too, carried a very freeing feeling as well.

#writing tag #respectfulshipping #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #ryoken kogami #kogami ryoken #spectre (vrains)#a very sappy ending bc i am a very sappy person

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tragidean · 4 years ago

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ocean front property [20.5k] (ao3)

A familiar mop of red hair stands on the porch, arms folded over her burgundy dress. She looks less than pleased, even at a distance, her scowl more recognizable than her face. “Darling,” Rowena calls from halfway across the clearing. She doesn’t make an attempt to move, and Dean doesn’t blame her. “I was in the middle of my mid-afternoon bath, and you—Oh, Tweety.”

Rowena runs—or, walks briskly, really—to meet Dean. He can’t stop walking, not now—not until he gets Castiel inside. “Walk, walk,” Dean says, automatic, and Rowena follows.

“I don’t know why, but I feel like apologies are in order,” she says, but Dean shakes his head. It’s not her fault. She tried to help with location spells and her own brand of magic, but nothing came of it. “How did you find him?”

Dean doesn’t answer. Doesn’t know if he can, actually. Rowena walks ahead, mud decorating the soles of her heels, and holds the door open, allowing Dean through. He could put Castiel on the dining table, but the couch is closer, and probably more comfortable. The minute Dean sets Castiel down—the minute he loses contact—he collapses to his knees, held upright only by Rowena’s steady hands.

“Easy, easy,” she soothes, helping him sit. The room spins. An inhuman sob rips its way free from his lungs. “It’s alright, handsome. You brought him back.”

“I cut off his wings,” Dean croaks. Tears scorch his face; all he wants to do is drown in them. “I cut him down, and he fell, and—”

Rowena shushes him with a soft breath. Kneeling, she pulls him against her, his head pressing into the front of her dress. She’s warm, so unlike Castiel, so unlike his heart, now shattered like the wings he left behind. “You did what you had to,” she says, petting through his hair. “I’d do the same, if it were someone I loved.”

Love. Love. What Dean feels isn’t love. It goes beyond that, deeper, richer. Castiel is tattooed on his body and soul, and now he’s dying, and Dean can’t live without him.

Reluctantly, Dean pulls away from Rowena’s embrace and looks at Castiel’s body, at the near-invisible rise and fall of his chest. Gently—more tender than Dean has ever seen her—Rowena takes one of Castiel’s hands and turns his palm. Her brow furrows, lips pursed in thought. “How did you find him again, dear?”

Dean rests his forehead against the couch cushion, closing his eyes. Light hurts—breathing, even worse. “I’ve been having… visions,” he admits, for the first time in months. Not even Sam knows, and the last time he met up with Rowena, he had wanted to say something. “I’ve just felt… cold, ever since he left, and I keep seeing shit, things I can’t even describe, like… One minute, I’ll be standing somewhere, and the next, I’m in a void, and there’s screaming, and wings, and… And last week, I got a call. Someone said they found him, but when I got here, ‘found’ turned into ‘holding him captive,’ and I got… Two demons tried to kill me.” A breath. “They said they had him, and I believed them.”

Low, Rowena hums, then tsks. “I trust you killed them?”

“Course,” Dean mutters. “Not before they tried to rip out my kidney.”

“That saves me from having to interrogate them myself,” Rowena chirps. “My methods are a bit more unorthodox, as you’ve seen.”

Of course Dean has seen—Rowena sicced Castiel on him over a year ago, and nearly killed him in the process. “You know what they mean? The…” He waves at Castiel’s hand.

“It’s a binding spell,” Rowena confirms, although slightly unsure. “It’s old magic, though. Older than my time, I’m afraid.” She pauses and holds both of Castiel’s hands, observing the marks side by side. Her face sours, just what Dean wants to see. “Oh, this is a cruel one.”

Great—just great. All at once, the breath leaves his lungs, and the worst settles into his brain. This is it—Castiel really is dying, and there’s no way he can bring him back, not this time. God and Amara are hands off, and no amount of prayer will convince them to resurrect an angel just because Dean wants them to. “Rowena, don’t make me beg.”

“I hate to rip the Band-aid off, dearie, but there’s no cure.”

Just like that—in those few words, Dean’s life might as well be over. All of the words left unsaid slip through his fingers, out of his grasp. The last words he ever heard Castiel speak were in a graveyard—and Dean might as well have buried him months ago, and he never said goodbye. “There’s gotta be something,” he croaks, burying his face in the cushions. He can’t look at her. If he tries, he might scream, or fight her, or break, like he’s always feared. “Some way to reverse it. Hell, call Crowley, he’d probably—”

“He knows nothing of this,” Rowena snaps, then corrects herself. “Fergus was never an angel. Neither was I, but I can read the tomes. I understand things ordinary witches could never even dream, and these runes, they’re meant to rot his body. They’ve contained his Grace so that by the time he freed himself, he wouldn't have a body to go back to.” She lowers her hand, petting through Dean’s hair. “The most I can do is break the runes. It might help if you let him touch you, just so he knows you’re there.”

“There’s nothing you can do?” Dean asks, brittle. He looks up, but not much higher than Castiel’s chest. Rowena must pity him, or else she wouldn't be here. There’s nothing for her to gain out of this, other than watching an angel die. He can’t die, Dean thinks. His tears might as well be flames, burning trails down his face. “You can’t just—You can’t just sit there and let him die, he didn’t—”

“I don’t want him to die any more than you.” Kneeling, Rowena taps her nails to his cheeks. “But you have to face the fact that he might not survive. If you have any amends to make, I’d say them now while he can hear you.”

Rowena doesn’t waste time. Part of Dean is grateful, while the other half wishes she never answered him. Dean offers her his knife and watches her draw a sigil into each hand and foot, counteracting the marks engraved into his skin. The lines spark and close, leaving behind unblemished skin. Still, Castiel sleeps, never once making a sound, even after Rowena offers her condolences and leaves.

Hunger grips Dean’s stomach. Yet, he can’t fathom ever eating again, or doing anything other than holding Castiel’s hand in his own. Dean kisses his fingertips, his breath little more than a shudder. “You gotta come back to me,” he whispers, his words shattered. “You can’t leave me like this. I was—I was gonna come back to you. Me and Amara, we worked it out, and I was coming home. I was gonna tell you, and Sam said you were just… You disappeared. And I tried so hard to find you, I did everything I could.

“You've gotta believe me, man.” Dean shudders. An idea crosses his mind. Quickly, he jerks up his shirt sleeve and grabs Castiel’s wrist, pressing Castiel’s palm to the silvered mark branded into his shoulder. But nothing happens—that, more than anything, breaks Dean’s heart that last final inch. “Don’t do this to me. We had time, we had…”

Don’t make me lose you, his soul cries. Castiel doesn’t answer, and Dean bows his head, slumped into the couch. I love you too much to watch you die.

continue reading on ao3

#my writings #destiel #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #yes hello everyone have a 20k nightmare!#it's literally impossible to write short fics anymore whoops

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justanotherlifeff · 4 years ago

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Heyo!! Saw the ask thing and wanted to shoot my shot. Blasty boi with a dragon like reader? She’s got the big wings, tail and horns? She’s got a kickass attitude and doesn’t back down. Kinda a butch female? (I’m tired of seeing soft and shy readers with Bakugou) ((plus I love dragons)) with something fluffy yet kinda suggestive?? I just recently started fallowing you and I absolutely love your writing❤️❤️

Bracelet

Warnings: Suggestive content, fingering, swearing

To say that Bakugou and you hated eachother ever since the moment you stepped into class 1A would be an understatement. With your powerful quirk, your confident and outspoken attitude, your natural talent when it came to education and using your quirk, you pissed the hell off him. Your quirk was called "dragon", which was pretty much self explanatory since you had all the abilities of a dragon. Starting from having large scaly red wings, tiny horns on your head, a tail and most importantly, the ability to breathe fire, you were what he'd call a rival. Unlike Deku, you weren’t a pushover, which made him more pissed since you challenged him almost all the time. On the first day at UA, you came to class early like a good student, called him out infront of the entire class completely embarrassing the shit out of him when he made a mistake during math class, and when he threatened to kill you, for good measure, starting a fight with him in the middle of the classroom. You never gave him a chance to see you as an extra from day 1 and he was convinced that if there was someone he hated as much as Deku, it had to be you. This is why, he was left completely confused by why he was buying the shitty bracelet that you were gawking at for you just because you looked sad.

You hated Bakugou with a passion as well. You may be as outspoken as Bakugou himself but unlike the explosive boy, you directed that attitude in a good path. While Bakugou was like an explosion that would destroy anything in his path, you were like a warm and steady, yet a strong fire that could cause burn everything in it's way as well as attract bugs towards it. You were friendly with almost everyone in class except Bakugou as your personalities seemed to clash like fire and water. You were always protecting Midoriya from his wrath and it seemed that the two of you fought in a daily basis, sometimes things getting out of hand and quirks being used before you were stopped by Aizawa sensei. That's why you were confused about why you found yourself getting closer to him, staring at him only to find him more attractive everyday and trying to know him better.

Your rivalry with Bakugou was going at a constantly normal pace till the dormitories were introduced into UA. While you were happy to spend more time with your friends at school, you definitely weren’t happy with the fact that you would have to live under the same roof as the asshole you had come to hate. However, ever since Bakugou was kidnapped, while he was still as explosive as ever, it seemed like he was humbled to some extent. It started with the day when Bakugou made Kaminari fry his brain to take money from him only to give it to Kirishima just to improve Kirishima's mood. You had never seen Bakugou care about someone's feelings and this sudden act of kindness within him made you feel unsettled. "There's always exceptions" you told yourself to push it off your mind and to continue seeing him as a rival. However, he proved you wrong. Every time he cooked, he always 'accidentally' made extra food for everyone, including you. You saw how skilled he was at cooking and anyone could see through his bullshit. You found him complaining about how everyone are stupid extras but then again, he would tutor them, shout at them if necessary only to ensure that they get good grades. Living under the same roof as Bakugou Katsuki made you realise that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t an asshole. As you finally came to accept that new information, you found yourself noticing how attractive he actually was. You found your eyes trailing his perfect jaw, his lean yet muscular body and most importantly, the way those muscles flexed every time he moved. While the two of you bickered daily as usual, things suddenly weren’t the same anymore. The typical, arguments that went like this:

"You scaly bitch! You wanna fight hah?!"

"Is that a fucking invitation blasty bastard?! Cause I'm gonna fucking incinerate you!"

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

"I'LL CALL YOU WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT BLASTY BASTARD!"

"DIE!"

Turned into something like:

"You wanna fight huh princess?! I'll show you how a fucking hero fights like you insufferable brat!"

"Come at me Blasty! Hero my ass... I bet you don't even have the balls of a normal person!"

"Well well, bet you wanna know how my balls look like huh Princess? I've got bigger ones than in your imagination unlike that miserable excuse of your ass."

"So you’ve been ogling my ass?"

"DIE!!!"

Basically, the fights included less insults and got more sexual including loads of blushing and teasing out of nowhere. While you were finding Bakugou more attractive each day, it was no different for Bakugou either. It started when you offered to help Bakugou take the trash out when he was under house arrest after the fight with Midoriya. While you disapproved the fact that they fought like complete immature dumbasses after curfews, you admired the fact that Bakugou admitted to throwing the first punch even if it meant more punishments for him. Which is why, you decided to help him out when everyone brought too many trash for him to carry in one go. Ofcourse, he rejected the offer at first, assuming that you doubted his strength but then he decided to accept your help when you insisted, surprising you as you didn't expect him to take any help no matter how much you insisted. You decided take notes for both Midoriya and Bakugou since they weren’t allowed to go to class and Bakugou surprisingly found the doodles you made on the corners of the pages cute. He also found himself glancing at you more than usual, taking in how cute your horns looked like, how your tail wagged when you were happy or excired or drooped when you were sad much like a dog, how you always had an eye for shiny objects and how much money you wasted on buying anything that was shiny (like a dragon). He found himself throwing away any shiny key chains that he owned or bought only a day back infront of you, only to find you grumbling about how anyone can throw away something so 'pretty' and picking it up and stuffing it in your pocket. He would never admit how cute you looked pouting when he did things like that.

With time, the mutual pining between you and Bakugou were getting so obvious that Bakusquad decided to 'interfere'. Since you were friends with everyone, when Bakusquad asked you to hang out in one of the food stalls during the School Festival after 1A's performance was over, you immediately accepted their invitation. You weren’t in the band as you had no idea on how to play any instrument. Instead, you were on the dance team as you were pretty good at dancing and Mina pretty much dubbed the two of you as the "horned duo". This also gave Bakugou a good opportunity to stare at your ass for as long as he liked because unlike his statement, he found your ass amazing. After the performance was over, you went to Mina to ask about when they all were going, only to have her inform you that there was a 'change of plans' and they were going to see the fashion show but since Bakugou wasn’t gonna go with them, you could go to the food stalls with him. You forgave Mina before she started profusely apologising, further to make her claims seem true and went to find Bakugou. At the same time, Bakugou was informed the exactly same information from Kirishima not too long ago and was currently looking for you.

When the two of you found eachother, you mentioned the issue while he only grunted in approval to your blunt invitation on going to the food stalls with him. "How the actual fuck do you even eat that shit? I don't think even Satan can eat that without having his ass burn while shitting cause this is basically is stuffed with spice..." you spoke in disbelief when Bakugou poured the fifth packet of spice powder on his ramen. "Shut the fuck up you weak ass. Just cause you don't have the guts to eat like normal people doesn’t mean others can't. Besides, who even eats sweet shit like that?" Bakugou barked at you as he mixed all that spice into his ramen, pointing at the blueberry cheesecake infront of you. "You call that normal, Blasty boi? Pretty sure you’ll have explosive diarrhoea after eating that." you scoffed, eating a spoonful of your cheesecake. "YOU DON'T TALK ABOUT DIARRHOEA WHILE YOU’RE EATING YOU SHITTY BRAT!" Bakugou barked at you while letting off small explosions in his hands. "Calm your balls damn!!" you told him looking at him with an incredulous expression. "You really are interested in my balls aren’t you princess?" you found him giving you a teasing smirk. "DIE!!" you barked at him only to have him bark back saying, "THAT'S MY LINE YOU FUCKING PHOTOCOPY MACHINE!!!"

After you were done with your food and filled your bickering quota for the day, you were walking with Bakugou infront of the stalls in the carnival set up in the school festival as Bakugou grumbled about how shitty women doing shitty shopping. That's when something incredibly shiny suddenly caught your eye. You immediately ran to the store, irritating Bakugou even more. "Stop running around you stupid brat!" Bakugou shouted at you as he followed you into the store. "Sorry that you can't keep up, grandpa." you answered teasing him only to get him more mad. It was a bracelet that caught your attention. It was shiny and fashionable and it just screamed at you to buy it. Unfortunately, when you opened your wallet, you found it to be completely empty except for a few coins. As you looked at the bracelet with a longing expression with a pout on your face as your tail drooped down showing that you were sad, Bakugou suddenly felt a pang at his heart. He felt a sudden need to buy that worthless piece of crap for you only for you to go back to your usual cheerful and annoying self. "Damnit... I spent all my money on that cheesecake... Anyway, we'll be late for 1B's show. Let's go?" you looked at Bakugo with the same sad expression. "You go on ahead. I'll have to buy some stuff for shitty hair." Bakugou grumbled. "Huhhhh??? The Bakugou Katsuki doing shopping? I NEED TO TAKE A PICTURE OF THIS RARE AND HILARIOUS THING!" you made a dramatic expression as you took out your phone to take a picture. "GET OUTTA HERE BEFORE I BLAST YOUR ASS!" Bakugou barked, making you laugh as you winked at him and said, "Still ogling at my ass huh?" before you ran off leaving Bakugou a flustered seething mess.

Bakugou barely ever used his money. He almost never ate out because whatever he cooked by himself was usually always better than what any restaurant can possibly make. He didn’t have to buy clothes cause his parents were fashion designers and he always got free fashionable clothes from them whenever he asked for it. He barely ever went out since he always used his free time for extra training or to watch TV or cook for his shitty friends. This is why he had a huge amount of savings that he made from his monthly allowance which allowed him to buy the bracelet without any issue. However, after he bought it, reality stuck him and he had no idea on how to give it to you without you whipping up a way to tease him. Reluctantly, he decided to keep the bracelet with him until he found a way to give it to you in a way where you wouldn’t have the floor to insinuate that he had feelings for you. Because he didn't. Atleast that's what he told himself. However, when he made his way to class 1B's programme, he found you with someone else. Someone who was way too close to you. Someone who happened to be the Icyhot bastard or Todoroki Shouto.

Bakugou felt the need to blow something up when he found Todoroki putting an arm around your waist, with you blushing furiously as he pulled you closer. "You know, Bakugou, you’ll probably lose her if you don't make a move." Bakugou felt a hand on his shoulder as he heard Kirishima sigh, standing beside him. This broke any sort of self control he had on himself as he charged towards you and Todoroki, grabbed your hand and pulled you out of whatever shitshow 1B was presenting all while giving Todoroki a death glare. What he didn't know was that all of it was a part of Bakusquad's plan.

"Bakugou! What the fuck? Stop pulling me dammit! What's wrong with you?!" your equally surprised and irritated voice was ignored till he pulled you a corner near the backstage of the stupid show 1B was pulling. "Is there anything between you and Icyhot?" Bakugou asked you with a glare. "What? No! He's a good friend. Why do you ask? Are you interested or someth...." your teasing voice was cut off with a rough kiss that made your eyes widen. Bakugou was kissing you, pinning you to the wall behind you and you could hardly register the fact. You were so sure that he hated your guts. You accepted the fact that you had a crush on him not too long ago but you decided to keep it to yourself since he already hated your guts and you decided that he can't possibly be interested in you in that way. When Bakugou finally broke the kiss, you looked at him with shock while he looked plain pissed. "No one's gonna just go ahead and touch you like that except me. Get that in your stupid head of yours. Do you have any fucking idea on what you do to me? You drive me fucking insane! I swear to God I wanted to break that damn Icyhot bastard's hands!" Bakugou barked at you still pinning you to the wall. "Wait wait wait... You like me?" you asked him, completely surprised by everything. "Wow you really have shit for brains don't you? Take a hint dumbass." Bakugou sneered at you. "Wow... Okay? Uh... I kinda like you too." you answered with a sheepish smile. "Damn right you do! I'm the fucking best!" Bakugou gave you a confident smirk at that. "Are you though? Wasn’t I the one 'doing things to you'? Doesn't that make me better?" you teased him, angering him. "Don't you have a smart fucking mouth.." he scoffed, looking away. "Admit it Bakugou, you love it. Why don't you show me the 'things I do to you'? Then maybe we can decide on who's better." you told him cheekily only to have him give you a devilish smirk. "You wanna see that? Well, your wish is my command, Princess." he muttered at your ear before pulling you into a passionate kiss while his hands travelled all over your body, squeezing your breasts and your ass. "Knew you had a thing for my ass..." you muttered between the kiss only to have you bark at you saying, "Don't ruin the damn moment dumbass!".

His kisses took your breathe away and just when you felt like things couldn't get better, you felt his fingers pulling at your panties, moving it from the way to have him press his fingers on your bare pussy, making you yelp in his mouth. At this point, your knees were wobbly and you were holding onto Bakugou for support. When his fingers started kneading your clit, you let out a tiny whimper in his mouth, making him smirk as he broke the kiss to whisper in your ear, " not being a smartass anymore huh?" with a husky tone. To that, you bit his neck softly in protest while trying to muffle your soft moans. With a groan, Bakugou said, "You're trying to mark me up huh baby? Well, then I'll do the same." and he attacked your throat, leaving hickeys as his two of his fingers finally entered your pussy, curling into you as it pumped in and out vigorously, making you come undone as you held onto him for dear life. "Bakugou... Please..." you gasped softly, trying to control your voice as you were closer to your release with every pump. "Call me Katsuki, (Y/N). Please what?" Bakugou whispered into your year in a husky tone. "Wanna cum.. Please Katsuki..." you moaned softly as you hid your face in the crook of his neck to muffle your moans. Bakugou increased his speed, as he whispered, "Good girl. Cum all over my fingers." into your ears, making you do what he said in a matter of moments. After holding your breath and finding some strength to your feet, you pulled away from Bakugou with a deep blush on your face due to everything that happened moments ago and also because you didn't fail to feel the bulge in his pants during the entire process. "I'm not done with you yet, (Y/N). I'm not gonna fuck you in public so we are going to the dorms now. We'll meet up with those extras later." Bakugou huffed as he pulled a packet out from his pocket. He tore the packet to bring out the shiny bracelet you saw earlier and then he pulled your hand towards him roughly before slipping the bracelet on you. "You.. You bought this for me?" you looked at him, shocked at his sudden softness. "Tch.. Don't mention it. Come on now." Bakugou muttered as he walked towards the dorm with you following him. "Damn you really turned into a softie didn't you?" you teased him on your way only to have him bark at you saying, "DIE!!"

Bonus (cause this is the first ask I've ever gotten and cause I have a thing for Bakugou):

"Oi Todoroki, we need your help in setting Bakugou and (L/N) together." Kirishima told Todoroki as the two of them were sitting on the dining table at midnight. When Kirishima asked Todoroki to meet up because of a 'top secret plan', Todoroki definitely didn't expect this. "They have a thing for eachother?" Todoroki asked Kirishima, almost making Kirishima facepalm himself. Todoroki was the only other person who was oblivious to all the pining going on except for Bakugou and you yourself. "Yeah, it's kinda obvious by now." Kirishima chuckled nervously as he scratched his head. "This plan of yours, will it piss Bakugou off?" Todoroki asked Kirishima with a blank face. "Uh.. Yeah? I mean, he seems the possessive type..." Kirishima answered only to see a mischievous smile form on Todoroki's face. "I'll help. Please explain the plan." Todoroki told Kirishima at that.

[Author's note: I've never done asks before so I hope this was good enough!]

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bnha fanfiction #bakugo katsuki #bnha #bakugo smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo × reader

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