#she sounds and reminds me a lot of my mother unfortunately

[threnodians]

i wasn’t warned about my aunt (one of my mom’s sisters) coming to our little party for my 7yr old niece and 11yr old nephew and i haven’t seen her in, ugh, probably 10yrs? maybe less? it has been a long, long time. but yeah, so that threw me way tf off

i’m gonna eat some cheesecake and then peace tf out and go home and play genshin impact 👌🏻

[jnnul]

ric flair drip

a/n: oh my god. it's finished. i've finally written all of her. i genuinely don't know how to explain the relief i feel right now. it feels strange writing this after writing and healing myself through writing this. i hope that anyone in college who's feeling the way y/n or jaehyun did knows that you can and will grow from it. heartbreak is inevitable and so is growth. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 20k

tags: college au!, frat boy!jaehyun x girlboss!y/n, honestly it just a dissertation about modern love and how people nowadays love each other, there's a lot of soul searching in this one, i poured my heart and soul into this please love her the way i do warnings: mentions of sex, underage drinking, and general college shenanigans! also explicit mentions of oral sex, uhhh foreplay and sex

HONESTLY, NOTHING ABOUT JUNG JAEHYUN IS REMOTELY APPEALING TO YOU. you hate the perfect boy act he puts on, you hate his need to impress everyone and everything, and you really fucking hated his dick.

because if it wasn't for his dick, which you were sure is just as perfect as the rest of his stupid self, you wouldn't be awake at inhumane hours, listening to your friend recount their sexcapades.

"oh my god, and then he did this thing with his tongue and i swear, i'm literally never going to be able to have oral again. he's fucking ruined me. i'm genuinely going to just make every guy i fuck put a jaehyun mask on from now onwards just to recreate it," sia yoo, unfortunately one of your best friends, quips dreamily. she yelps when roseanne park, your roommate and singular other voice of reason, throws a pillow at her.

"you sound like a fucking psycho. as in needs to be checked to a mental facility psycho. as in if i hadn't heard worse when you got with johnny suh, i'd be calling the cops right now psycho," roseanne says and easily ducks when sia winds up to throw the pillow back at her. fatima khan, sia's roommate and mother friend extraordinaire, pouts sympathetically with sia as the two of them turn to you as if you would fall on their side.

"sia, baby, honey, love and light of my life - i'm really sorry but i'm with rosie on this one," you say and sia puts on the most theatrical frown you she possibly could before she cocks her head curiously.

"rosie's got a reason for judging jaehyun since she doesn't even like men all that much. what's your excuse, y/n? you like men, judging by the way you were getting railed to next week by that freshie park seonghwa. you've never gotten dicked down by jaehyun."

you're half-tempted so tell sia that it's not fucking weird that you got with seonghwa, considering the fact that you're only a sophomore yourself but you're even more tempted to remind her that even though you were no stranger to a good time, you never recount your stories.

in fact, the only reason why the other three (well, you suppose rosie would know regardless given that you literally live with her) know about your sex life is because you choose to tell them whenever you felt like it. and usually, it was more than three days after the encounter.

you loved your friends, you really did - and sia was notorious for getting into one night stand rehash sessions at ungodly hours, so this was nothing new - but for some reason, every time jaehyun's name came up in the conversation, your skin would prickle with irritation.

maybe it was the fact that every single person around you seemed to be infatuated with him. or the fact that he was just so effortlessly good at capturing the attention of everyone in the room, no matter where he was.

or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you knew that if you looked too closely into the deep end, you'd fall right in with no life jacket. and jaehyun was an endless ocean.

+++

maybe you had given jaehyun too much credit, you lament. maybe jung jaehyun's as deep as a fucking kiddie pool. you know you're wrong because you were in the same english literature class and the man had been published because the professor liked his prose so much, she had submitted it to a literary journal.

and they had accepted it.

but as you stare at him across the lecture hall, burning holes into the poor guy's skull, you sure think he's stupid. because there was no way in fresh hell that jung jaehyun was in an introduction to east asia class. as a south korean.

people begin settling into their seats as you mull over the possibility that jaehyun had fucked so much, his brain had fallen out through his dick. from the stories of his more than above average size, it was definitely not out of the realm of possibility.

just as you're send a very judgmental text to fatima, who was supposed to be taking the class with you but had had to switch last minute when one of her major required classes opened up, jaehyun gets out of his seat to stand at the front of the room, next to the professor.

you realize belatedly that the people jaehyun had been so animatedly speaking to were none other than bambam and ten - two people who most definitely were in this class. and of course, they had chosen this class over all the others because oh my god, jung jaehyun is the uta for this class.

in hindsight, it makes sense, given that jaehyun is a east asian studies minor and a stellar fucking student. but it doesn't make the text you were about to send fatima any less humiliating as you realize your attempts to undermine his character were desperately failing. you try to backtrack on your phone, deleting the winding paragraph you were about to send her when your thumb slips, accidentally sending a half written message.

you: jaehyun is fucking

you're sure the statement will be true within the next couple hours (the jung bed at the nct frat never seemed to stay empty for too long - and that was just from orientation week last week) but it felt almost blasphemous that you would send a text so crude to your friend when you insisted that you couldn't stand his guts.

or what lay between them, really.

three gray dots appear on your screen as you half-heartedly listen to your professor drone on about how he went to china, became a changed man, and now taught about the wonders of east asia and its exoticism. his name was paul but the class could refer to him by his 'enlightened name' - lao ma. even jaehyun rolls his eyes behind the professor's back as all of the asian kids in the classroom begin to eye each other warily.

if this class wasn't so easy, you're sure the population would've shrunk to a quarter its size based on the weirdness of the professor on its own. or maybe not, if it meant that people got to stare at jaehyun's gorgeous face for an hour and a half every monday morning.

mommy tima 🤍: honey, i think whatever sia's got going is contagious. mommy tima 🤍: aren't you the one who hates him? mommy tima 🤍: he really lives in your mind rent free, huh.

you scoff under your breath as you type furiously, vaguely registering that you definitely need to check the syllabus for this class later because you have not been listening to a word the professor has said this whole time.

you: first sia's got cooties or a raging std that's what she's got going you: second he's my fucking uta you: as in i am going to be forced to see his face for an entire semester mommy tima 🤍: drop the class then, babe. you: can't this is too good for my gpa & the prof's a freak you: it's a gpa cushion and a circus in one go

you tuck your phone away when you see that jaehyun is coming up the aisle on your side with a packet while the professor is on the other aisle on the other side with the same packet to hand out. jaehyun probably wouldn't care that you had your phone out during lecture (syllabus week was just an excuse for college kids to get drunk during school days anyway) but it was the principle of the thing.

"here you go - oh, it's stuck together," jaehyun says as he stops at where you're sitting. his tongue slips out as he thumbs at the packet to give you one instead of three and suddenly, your treacherous brain takes you back to sia's rambling the night before.

and then he did this thing with his tongue...

you're shaken back to reality when you realize that you're staring at a blank wall, with a pink packet in front of you, and jaehyun has already reached the back of the classroom.

fuck. shit. bitch.

jaehyun had seen you stare at his stupidly handsome face and then some. he was your ta. oh my god, what if he docked points on some test because he thought you were the creepy stalker type.

damn you, sia yoo, you curse in your head.

+++

"damn you, sia yoo!" you yell over the blaring music that's so loud, you can feel the vibrations in your skull. there absolutely no reason you should be caught dead in a frat on the friday of syllabus week but sia had made it her mission to make sure you had a going out rate of at least 80% this school year, given that you were prone to trying to skip out on weekends out last year.

not that you didn't like going out - you actually really liked going out with your friends. you just took a little more inertia to get to the energy levels of actually going on.

sia just nods at you lazily as she bounces to the beat of another shitty remix of 'what you came for' by calvin harris and rihanna. you never understood why frats always found the worst remixes of classic party bangers but anything flew after you had enough alcohol in your system so the music would recede to the depths of your mind in a couple cups of whatever the fuck this drink was.

especially since you were a full sunshine drunk; whenever you were drunk, you became the life of the party and would always be found in the center of the room, regardless of the music. sia was a flirty drunk and you really couldn't remember the last time sia actually spent the entire weekend in her own bed. props to her stamina, honestly.

rosie was a mix of you and sia in that she would become so much more bubbly but the second she found someone she wanted to spend the night with, she went after them with no hesitation.

fatima usually played the role of sober mommy when you all went out. although she was never one to miss out on a good time, when she did get drunk, she much preferred it to be within the confines of the four walls that she shared with her roommate and the people she trusted the most - you, rosie, and sia.

which is why when rosie abandons you for her on again, off again fuck buddy (miyeon cho) and her fuck buddy (yugyeom kim), you're not surprised at all.

"that's going to be an interesting story in the morning," you say, nodding to where rosie, miyeon, and yugyeom are all heading upstairs together. fatima nudges you to look at sia, where she's pressed up against none other than johnny suh (or the love of her life, prior to jaehyun, apparently).

"that's going to be an interesting story in the afternoon," fatima counters. you turn to her with furrowed eyebrows, as if to question the timing. "i don't think i've ever heard of a girl leaving johnny's bed before 3 o'clock the next afternoon."

your jaw hangs in shock as you watch your friend wrap her arms around the tall man's neck, whispering something into his ear when he bends down to kiss her collarbone.

"are all of the nct boys secretly porn stars or something? how can they all be that good in bed?" you gape, waving at sia when she turns around to wink at you and fatima as her and johnny are bustling out of the door, undoubtedly to the nct frat house.

"they test us as part of rushing," says a low, velvety voice behind you. a hot rush of shame runs up your spine for two reasons: a) you were able to recognize jung jaehyun just from his voice and b) he heard you gossiping about his frat brothers' sexual prowess.

you exchange a look with fatima before whipping around to meet jaehyun eye to eye. he's wearing a plain black t-shirt and lightwash distressed jeans but he might as well be wearing designer trash bags for all you care. what you do care about, unfortunately, is the almost slutty way his v-neck dips to show off the beginnings of the planes of his chest.

you feel no better than a victorian man and it takes fatima a poorly concealed cough to break you out of your thoughts. fuck, you'd done it again. you really needed to stop getting caught up in jung jaehyun's pretty face. and body. and that stupid smile.

"haha. very funny. sounds like something straight out of a cheesy porno sponsored by viagra or something," you say, rolling your eyes. smooth. very smooth. normally, you like to think that you're proficient in the witty banter department but something about this boy made you almost feel dumb about your comebacks.

jaehyun cocks an eyebrow, and you're distinctly made aware that even with platform sneakers on, jaehyun is a good head taller than you when you have to look upwards to notice the motion. "you seem to be well versed, y/n. you make it a habit to stay up to date?"

you flush at the thinly veiled euphemism at your x-rated movie watching habits before clearing your throat. "i'm more of a fan of practical study, really. i am a scientist, after all."

you're aware that fatima has slipped away from you to talk to another friend, park jeonghwa, and also the fact that you are slowly beginning your descent into drunkenness but you can't seem to bring yourself to find the caution in it all. it's just jaehyun, after all.

jaehyun hums, bringing the solo cup in his hand to his lips to take a swig. "you're a biomedical engineering major, aren't you?"

you balk at that. "wait, wait. you know my name and my major?"

jaehyun nods slowly, seemingly stumbling for a moment before he gains his self-confidence once more. "you don't know mine?"

"you're literally my ta. i know you're an east asian studies minor and your name because you told the class," you say, recovering quickly. it was a really good thing you were a quick thinker because you were lying through your teeth.

you knew jaehyun's name, minor, and even major (computer science) because of his notorious reputation, not because he was your ta. but the last thing you wanted was to give him the satisfaction of asserting his popularity on campus.

"anyway. what was that you were saying about 'practical study'?" jaehyun's eyes twinkle in the dim lighting of the cramped basement you were in and you had a feeling that if you were any more inebriated, you'd be diving headfirst into jung jaehyun's bed as long as he looked at you like that.

but fortunately (unfortunately?) you're sober enough to make mostly intelligent decisions - which just means that you're not going to jump headfirst. maybe feet first but not headfirst.

"wouldn't you like to know," you sing-song, leaning into jaehyun's body enough to smell the mix of woody pine, fresh water, and vodka that seems to emanate from him. jaehyun watches you as you lean over him to grab another solo cup from the assortment that some lower ranked frat brother had been forced into bartending.

you down the entire drink in two swigs, patting away the stray stream of alcohol that had dripped down onto your chest. you don't notice the way jaehyun's eyes follow your hand down its descent to your chest. but you finally feel like your element, and in a moment of sheer idiocy and liquid courage, you enter the growing throng of bodies behind you, beckoning jaehyun to follow you.

you're not 100% sure what you want from him, honestly. you want to have a good time, and you're sure you'll have one with or without him. but something about the way jaehyun follows you like a puppy into the mess of people makes you feel like a zap of electricity has hit your body.

and if you're being completely honest with yourself (as you usually only are with ethanol in your system), you really didn't hate jaehyun. you had no qualms with him as a person, even if you hated the consequences that came with a night with him.

it's when you're in the middle of the crowd, with jaehyun looking at you with those hooded eyes and hands tucked into his pockets when you realize what you want from jaehyun jung.

you want him to desire you the way that his mere presence makes people desire him.

so you do what you do best and just let go. it's ric flair drip by metro boomin that's playing - a song that's definitely not the one to get down to. but the bass fills you up in a way that never hits the same outside of a sweaty frat basement so you can't even bring yourself to care.

"i'm tryna fuck you and your bestie," you sing along with the near hundred people surrounding you. jaehyun is still looking at you with an eyebrow sitting higher and an appraising expression; something that somehow manages to get under your skin.

in a moment of passion, you manage to hook your fingers into one of jaehyun's belt loops, pulling him closer to you. you're aware that you've painted yourself to be jaehyun's next conquest if the way that the girls next to you look upset means anything, but you couldn't care less.

especially when you're this close to the bane of your existence. the song switches to something a little more what you need (under the influence by chris brown) and you look up at jaehyun through your lashes and in that moment, jaehyun knows what you're offering him through your gaze.

a challenge.

+++

jaehyun never really meant to take on the role of nct's resident whore. in fact, jaehyun had been planning on doing the exact opposite when he came to college.

although it was unbelievable now, jaehyun jung had originally just been a very strange, nerdy, and sweet boy. he never got up to much trouble, kept to himself most of the time, and was known for...nothing, really. he was sweet and bubbly but he wasn't exactly running with the popular crowd.

in fact, jaehyun was kinda forgotten all throughout his schooling. it was easy to forget about jaehyun, as though he were some visage in a dream that everyone shared.

it hurt.

so when jaehyun finally hit his growth spurt in senior year, started going to the gym, and his voice no longer cracked every other sentence, he felt like a whole new person. like he was finally the main character in his own life.

it felt so fucking good to look at the same girls who had smiled at him pitifully and have them melting under a single wink. the summer between high school and college had been wild, with more stories than jaehyun could really even care to keep track of.

but when college began, jaehyun was fully intending to return to flying under the radar with his new upgrade in personality, appearance, and wardrobe. with a face like his, however, doing so was about as easy as trying to pass professor yoon's intro to bio class - nearly impossible.

slowly but surely, jaehyun morphed back into the personality he had adopted that summer and surprisingly, it wasn't as foreign as he thought. he was still a good student and wasn't a stranger to having to skip out on hanging out with his friends to study.

but having a new girl in his bed every other day? that was definitely new. a new revelation, but a welcome one nonetheless.

and in that, jaehyun was used to people using all sorts of tactics to get with him. playing hard to get, with coy smiles and flirtatious winks. or the bold ones, who told him straight up that they wanted to spend the night with him. even the downright horrifying ones who tried to pretend like they were blackout drunk in hopes that that would 'attract' him. spoiler alert? it didn't.

jaehyun originally thought you were of the 'hard to get' caliber. the type of girl to say that she wasn't like other girls and that's why he should get with her instead. so initially, when he approached you at the party after seeing you in his class, he was mentally preparing himself for the whole pick me speech.

but it was something about the way you looked at him.

it was like two halves of your mind were battling against each other. on one hand, you looked like you wanted to fax jaehyun straight into the fiery pits of hell with high speed shipping. on the other, it also seemed like you wanted nothing more than to ride him until the sun came up. mixed with a little bit of curiosity, confusion, and downright anger with yourself for all the emotions, you looked like the perfect cocktail of firebrand that jaehyun couldn't help but become intrigued by.

so when you were laughingly talking to your best friend (jaehyun's frat brother kun was half in love with fatima, which meant that jaehyun was more than well acquainted with her) about him and frat brothers, he took it to be the opportunity he needed.

and when you're looking at him like this, daring him to make a move, almost as if to make your mind fall one way or another about drawing a conclusion on him, what is jaehyun to do but to make good on the challenge you've offered?

he watches you for a moment more, trying to commit the memory of what you look like when you're this carefree and happy, before taking the micro-step it takes to get so close he can smell the citrus and apple cider that you seem to always smell like.

"i promise you i can fuck you better than johnny," jaehyun says, a corner of his lips tilted up as your eyes flutter the closer he draws.

"johnny's your 'bestie'?" you say, and jaehyun can tell that the last threads of your resolve are starting to snap by the way that your hand is now pressed against his chest.

"that's what you're curious about right now? the dynamics of the nct frat brothers?" jaehyun asks but he knows that this back and forth is exactly you need right now; the time to decide if you can take the plunge. or if jaehyun's worth your time tonight.

"as i mentioned, i'm a scientist," you say, and even as your voice stays stable, your fingers seem to leave burning trails against jaehyun's skin as they dip and feed into crevices of jaehyun's body that he didn't even know existed.

"hmm," jaehyun manages to eke out when your fingers lace into his hair. he's not sure how you manage to find every single sensitive spot he has but he's fairly impressed by the way you catch his breath hitching as you work your other hand up as well.

"hmm? cat got your tongue, jaehyun?" you say, making sure that jaehyun looks straight into your eyes as you lean impossibly closer. "you know that sia's with johnny right now, right? girls talk - especially with your best friends. which means that if you can't make good on your promise, i will find out."

jaehyun feels like he's sweating like a pig but thankfully, you don't notice, too busy making him sweat. he clears his throat once, and then twice to make sure that his voice doesn't give out.

"that right?" he says, and you roll your eyes, letting go of him and stepping back. you seem to appraise him for a moment (and jaehyun is unnaturally nervous about what you will decide) before grabbing his hand and leading him to the door. you only pause to flag down fatima, who takes one look at your intertwined hands, and waves the two of you away.

jaehyun blushes like a schoolgirl at the way fatima flashes him a catty smile.

"i swear to god, jaehyun, if you're all talk and no game - or if you're gonna sit still and look pretty the whole time - i will literally blue ball you. i don't do pillow princes," you throw over your shoulder as the two of you make your way to the nct frat. jaehyun knows for a fact that the nct frat will not be a quiet place tonight by the number of dresses and pants he sees in the foyer and leading the way up the stairs.

he says nothing, even as you're quite nearly storming up the stairs with a certain level of urgency, almost as though if you were to slow down and think about just exactly what you're doing, you'd turn around and leave right now.

jaehyun definitely can't let that happen.

so the second that he gets you into his bedroom (he had to rock, paper, scissors with doyoung to get the room tonight), he shuts the door and locks it behind him. he turns around to see you looking between the two beds, as if trying to guess which one was jaehyun's.

he mentally pats himself on the back when he sees the fresh sheets on the bed. reaching where you stand in less than a stride, jaehyun turns you so that you're facing his bed, and you squirm to turn to meet his eyes even as his hands are on your waist.

"what is with your hands?" you ask harshly and jaehyun blinks as he looks down.

"what do you mean? they're on your waist," jaehyun says softly, and once again, he's hit with a wave of citrus and apple cider. you simper at him, grabbing his wrist and moving it incriminatingly downwards.

"what am i? a virgin? put them somewhere useful." you whisper the last part and it's as though jaehyun has just woken up.

"you know," jaehyun begins, sliding his other hand downwards to sit comfortably on the curve of your ass. "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were trying to rile me up. i wonder..."

he doesn't finish his thought, instead pulling you close so that your hips are pressed against his. he can hear the gasp that you're desperately trying to conceal, coughing uselessly to the side. a devilish smirk grows on jaehyun's lips and for the first time in a long time, you're sure you're going to be up all night.

+++

you were, in fact, trying to rile him up. you had heard all the rumors about jaehyun and johnny, about how one night with them was like one night in heaven. hell, you'd had first hand accounts from sia yoo about exactly what it's like to be in bed with either of them - multiple times.

so when jaehyun had fronted with such a cautious attitude when he realized what you wanted, you were almost offended. if you wanted to take control and fuck a man's brains out, you could do that with anyone. why would you fight against your own mind this much to get with him?

but seonghwa park. changkyun im. even kun qian, before you discovered he was head over heels for fatima. jung jaehyun.

these were all people who put you in your place. the way you wanted to be. it just seemed as though jaehyun might've needed a little more persuasion to get there.

so yes, you were riling him up. was that such a crime?

by the way jaehyun's looking at you right now, his breath hot and heavy on your neck and his eyes dark with a feeling that you can't describe but resonates with you on a deeper, more primal level.

"you know, after you got with kun, he wouldn't shut up about it for a week," jaehyun says, pressing kisses down your neck, pausing when he reaches your breastbone. he eyes your corset top with a discerning eye before reaching behind you to pull the lace strings that were precariously holding your top for a week.

"yeah?" you ask, threading your fingers through jaehyun's thick hair as he makes quick work of your top, leaving it pooled on the floor as his lips find your chest as though he couldn't be physically parted from it.

"yeah. even after he met fatima, he said that you were the best he's ever had - that's a big reputation to live up to when you're in nct," jaehyun says, his voice breathy and deep as he walks you backwards so that the back of your knees hit the frame of his bed.

"hmm. what can i say? i know what i want and what i want is usually lots of fun," you say, letting jaehyun unzip your jeans, pulling them down and kicking them off when jaehyun moves too slowly.

"i know. god, after knowing that you and kun were going at it, i swear everyone was jerking off in their room for an hour. even winwin wanted to go for you today. you're an unpredictable woman; no one knows where and when you're going to show up to one of the parties so everyone has to take their chances when they get them," jaehyun says, tugging his shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind him carelessly.

you nearly melt when you see jaehyun's uncovered top, eyeing each and every hard ridge of his body, reaching out to touch him. his chest is almost soothingly warm as your fingers memorize each and every aspect of the planes of his chest, almost worried that they might disappear if you let go.

jaehyun looks at you amusingly as he lets your fingers dance across his body, focusing on tugging your panties off to discard them where he's sure he's going to have to search for them later on.

you pout when you see the difference in clothing but jaehyun just gently pushes you backwards so that your back is against his bed, leaving your pussy exposed in away that makes you feel absolutely mortified. you move to gain some level of privacy back but jaehyun is too fast, gripping onto your thighs incriminatingly as he raises an eyebrow.

"don't think that i'm soft just because i'm being nice to you now, pretty girl. i know you don't like to listen but don't hide from me. i will not let you have any fun if you try to hide from me," jaehyun says, his voice dropping a full octave. you suppress the shiver that runs through your body (and that simultaneously delights jaehyun) as you nod softly.

he seems satisfied by the way your body melts and rewards you for your submission by licking a wet strip up your pussy, one hand snaking up to touch your nipple while the other one keeps your thighs open.

jaehyun is slow at first, exploring each and every hidden crevice of your body but as he feels you get wetter and wetter, he can't seem to stay soft for too long. he continues to press his lips against yours but the moment you try to grind your hips against his lips, he pulls away, his tongue darting out to taste your essence on him.

you almost whine at the loss of his hot mouth on your pussy, and you're embarrassed to realize that in front of jaehyun jung, you are no better than your best friend in falling in love with the way he moves.

"you're not going to cum from my tongue, baby," jaehyun says, practically ripping the belt out from where it was caging his jeans. "especially when i know that your pussy is magic."

"you say that, jaehyun, but you're being so fucking soft. if i didn't know any better, i'd think you're in love with me," you snort, trying to catch your breath. jaehyun freezes from where his boxers are hanging so low on his hips, you can see the muscles in his pelvis tense angrily as he looks at you dangerously.

"my fucking bad for making sure you're wet enough to take me," jaehyun whispers, pulling close to you. his eyes turn even darker than usual and a small spark of excitement ignites in your chest when you realize that you've finally reached it - jaehyun's breaking point.

"sounds like you're scared, jaehyun. you know what? you know why kun was so good? because he wasn't scared. he wasn't scared to fuck me like he was trying to break the bed," you retort, and saying kun's name is when jaehyun finally snaps. he tears his boxers off as he pushes you so that you're further up on his bed.

"y/n, i'm not fucking joking around. if you want me to stop, say it now. just say the word, and i'll pretend like this never happened. because i swear to every god in existence, if you let me, i'll ruin every other man for you," jaehyun says and his knuckles turn white from how hard his clenching his fingers to keep himself from pouncing. the thought is almost cute if you weren't desperate to be fucked into next week.

"if i wanted you to stop, i wouldn't have said kun's name, would i?"

that's all it takes. no sooner do the words leave your mouth, jaehyun's on top of you, every inch of his body fighting to claim yours. he's not sure what it is about being with a bratty girl but every time a girl tries to challenge him, jaehyun can feel his excitement grow as his mind runs wild with ways to prove you wrong.

and with a girl as beautiful and sexy as you? he was going to have the time of his life.

time of his life he does.

+++

when jaehyun wakes up, he's almost happy. almost because he has bruises on his hips from how hard he had pounded into you, a litter of hickeys across his chest, and freshly washed hair from when you had enticed him into taking a shower with you.

inevitably, it led to another hour in the shower that jaehyun had spent having his soul sucked out from his dick, eating you out under the shower, and seeing you cum twice just from his tongue.

if only he had woken up with you still in his bed, jaehyun would've actually been happy.

realistically, jaehyun had no clue what he was expecting. after taking a shower, it had taken you a total of five minutes to fall asleep in his arms, wearing nothing but jaehyun's oversized t-shirt and your panties.

there was no pillowtalk, no heart to hearts, nothing. no discussions of having whatever happened last night happening again. no trying to get to know each other better.

not that you had ever been obligated to do so. if anything, jaehyun was far more obligated to do so, after practically declaring that he had wanted to get with you since last semester - which he had been completely serious about.

but with his reputation, regardless of what he had said last night, jaehyun's almost 100% sure that you would've disappeared by the morning.

he's so caught up in his thoughts that he almost misses the bright pink post-it note on his neatly folded shirt on his desk in the corner of the room.

9.5/10. if you see sia, tell her she was right about your tongue. see you in intro to east asia on monday.

jaehyun's half disappointed and half happy. disappointed because you'd never left your number or anything and happy because at least he knew that you weren't going to completely avoid him whenever you ran into each other next.

he shakes his head as he folds the post-it note and throws it in the trash can next to his desk.

jaehyun jung may not have started college with the intention of becoming the resident fuckboy but he still had a reputation to maintain. he had fucked countless women over his time at sm university and he had no intention of falling for any of them.

he was not about to get soft-hearted or soft-dicked by a girl he was with once.

even if she was really good in bed. like really really good. like good enough to make him think about the other boys she's been with and if they'd made you feel as good as he did.

fuck. her. which jaehyun had already done. which meant that he needed to move onto the next step of the day before his head exploded with all of the implications flying around in his mind about their relation to each other (nonexistent) and if you were thinking about him like he was thinking of you (you weren't).

he pads out of his room, passing doyoung on the way out, who claps him on the back and says, "you finally got with y/n?" jaehyun doesn't know how doyoung knows but it strikes him that neither of you are very subtle people and you had caused quite the scene leaving with him last night.

similar reactions are offered to him by everyone he passes. he's not really sure how many of the boys you've been with but jaehyun can feel his street cred go up by at least a decameter with the way some of these pledges are looking at him.

in fact, everyone is looking at him with a new look of respect in their eyes until he reaches the kitchen, where yoo sia and johnny are sitting, practically eye-fucking.

jaehyun was very used to seeing johnny's friends in the kitchen the next day, neither of them ready to really say goodbye each other yet but for some reason, knowing that sia was your best friend and seeing her with johnny sets jaehyun's stomach into a series of knots that he was sure he was going to have to unravel when he had his head on straight.

"she already left?" sia says, finally breaking her stare from johnny's. jaehyun shrugs, digging around the fridge to see if they had any coffee. they didn't (none that wasn't expired anyway) so he has to settle for a caprisun.

"she had somewhere to be," jaehyun says. he wants to ask sia if it's normal for you to leave that early. it can't be if sia seems surprised that you'd left before the clock struck ten. what did that mean? what does that say about jaehyun? oh god. what if you hated it. what if you hated it so much that you didn't want to spend a second longer with jaehyun.

he cringes as he locks eyes with another shiny eyed pledge (jaehyun thinks his name is jungwoo) and tries to shake his head to clear any and all thoughts of you. he was pussydrunk. that was the only explanation. he just needed to dick down someone else and then he would get over whatever little infatuation thing he had going on.

"really? hmm..." sia says finally. jaehyun turns to see her looking right at him and suddenly, he's transported back to the previous weekend, when sia had been wrapped up in his sheets.

+++

"why did you start fucking around like this?" sia had asked, her chest still heaving from their previous illicit activities as she wraps herself tighter in jaehyun's sheets. jaehyun pauses for a moment as he catches his breath, pulling on his boxers as he thinks. he throws the shirt that sia's grabbing at, still not sure how to piece together his thoughts.

or why he wants to tell sia the truth. maybe it's because no one's ever asked about it before, but jaehyun feels strangely vulnerable as sia watches as he clambers back into his bed, her expression pensive and uncharacteristically wise.

"i don't know," jaehyun says honestly, laying over the covers as he feels his face grow hotter under sia's unrelenting stare. "i think it's because i wanted to know what it felt like. to know what it felt like to be wanted for a night instead of just being in the sidelines as the guy with the potential. just the guy that people brought along as the friend of the hot guys that kept him around."

sia doesn't say anything, instead turning so that she was lying on her back. jaehyun turns to look at her, to see if he could decipher some level of understanding from her silence. really, he knows that he should feel embarrassed about confessing his insecurities to a girl that he's hooked up with two or three times but he can't bring himself to for some reason.

maybe it's because he knows that she wouldn't say anything about it to anyone. or because he knows that she's head over heels for johnny, whether she'd admit it or not. or maybe it's just because for the first time, someone had asked something about jaehyun just to get to know him as a person, rather than trying to get him in their bed.

not that he really minded that - it just made him feel like it was all a lot more transactional than he was used to. he had been a romantic once upon a time. when you grew up with the nickname of 'valentine boy', it would have been stranger if he didn't have some sense of romance.

but jaehyun's penchant for romance disappeared almost just as soon as he realized that no one else was yearning for a pure type of love like he was.

and yet, it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. turns out that jaehyun's a very adaptable man. if he wouldn't find love in this decade, then perhaps it would be lust that he would have to settle for.

"then again," he begins, gaze darting over to where sia had slipped on his t-shirt as she tiredly begins to settle down in his bed once more. "isn't that what everyone is doing nowadays? looking for a warm body for the night, instead of a genuine connection?"

sia snorts at that, turning so that she was facing jaehyun now. "don't tell me that you're one of the boomer types. the ones who always go around peacocking about how they were born in the wrong generation and that they're one of the 'good guys'. i might actually leave right now if you are."

"no, no i'm not. well. maybe a little bit. but i don't know why that's so bad to be honest," jaehyun acquiesces finally. sia rolls her eyes, but even she goes quiet for a moment. once again, jaehyun's reminded that this is sia yoo - a girl who routinely wakes up in someone else's sheets every saturday (although it was johnny's more often than not) and as sexist as it was, someone who carried a reputation for it. even jaehyun was surprised to find that she was such a deep conversationalist.

of course, he mentally berates himself soon after but he can't help the thought. for him, sia was just the girl he would get with a couple times. a good time. the fact that that's the only role she fulfilled in his mind made him feel disgusting inside out as he waits for her response, vowing that he would work to change his mindset. or maybe just change personalities altogether. ick.

"you know one of my best friends? y/n? the one who got with kun before he decided to go clean for fatima?" sia says with a careful tone. jaehyun nods, not trusting that he wouldn't say something dumb after his sudden realization of his flawed thinking.

"this is something she always says but it's honestly pretty simple: love is however you want to define it. humans spend so much trying to find labels and definitions for things that just might not have or need them. for such an advanced species, we spend so much time concerned about how to put a feeling into a box or how to classify a thought instead of rejoicing in the fact that we had such a beautiful feeling in the first place."

"for people in this generation, the old school love is hard to find because they've got so many other types of love that weren't allowed back when old school love was big. it's a different type of freedom to love someone on the weekends but never to fall in love with them. maybe we're just romanticizing hookup culture but who's to say that we can't? maybe we're all more romantic than we want to admit. maybe when we fall into the sheets with someone we barely know, we're looking for a fragment of love to satiate our heart in ways we didn't know it needed."

jaehyun doesn't know what to say to that so he just pulls her closer to him and she lets him, throwing her leg over his as they fall asleep, closer to each other than they had ever been.

+++

you're not sure what had compelled you to leave so quickly that morning. you usually like to get the boys who sleep with to at least cook you breakfast before you left (for compensation of being terrible in bed, if the situation so called for it) but for some reason, every instinct in your body had pulled you to leave.

you had waken up at nearly 5 in the morning, a mere two and a half hours after the two of you had fallen asleep, gathered your clothes, and were about to leave when you turn to look at jaehyun, still snoring away peacefully, his arm crossing his body to rest on the empty space next to him that you had occupied previously.

you had a feeling that you're going to lament leaving this early after psychoanalyzing why you were leaving so early later in the day but for now, if your gut was telling you to leave, you were going to heed the precautions.

but even as you're about to leave, you find yourself turning to jaehyun's desk, sparse but somehow still a little messy as you rummage for a post-it note and a pen to write with. you grin to yourself when you find yourself successful (and endearing somehow that jaehyun has bright pink post-it notes).

you pass a brother on the way out (undoubtedly a freshman who had received the short stick of the duties tonight) but you wave him off when he offers to walk you home. dangerous? most definitely. but you really needed the time and space to yourself and the short, almost ten minute walk back to your apartment would offer some enlightenment.

spoiler alert: it didn't. no matter how hard you wracked your brain to come up with some version of a logical explanation, you realized that there was just simply no way to do so.

and something about that frustrated you. you knew it wasn't a big deal. jaehyun was just a hook-up. a one night stand. and yet...something wasn't fitting right in your mind. so you start to think in the only way you know how, collecting all of the pieces of information you did have.

a) you just had sex - mind-blowing sex with jaehyun. he was everything you expected and more when it came to a sexual partner. b) you didn't develop feelings for him. sex comes fifth on the list of things you subconsciously (or now consciously, since you've spoken it into existence) have when looking for a potential boyfriend. first comes personality, then intelligence, then ambition, then looks, and then sex. you didn't even have a conversation long enough to figure out if jaehyun had more than three brain cells to piece together. c) jaehyun jung had confessed that he had wanted to get with you since last semester. did he mean with you-r body or with you?

you shake your head as if to physically shake the irrational thoughts in your mind out and press your id against the scanner at the entrance of your apartment building, rubbing your fingers against your temples as you get into the elevator to reach your apartment.

unlocking the door to your (empty) apartment, you decide to shelf the thoughts for some time when your head wasn't pounding and collapse on your bed, thanking the lords you'd had the sense to take a shower at jaehyun's.

and the last thing you remember is the smell of jaehyun's shampoo in your hair as you drift into blissful, dreamless sleep.

+++

you're not surprised to feel a weight on your bed when you wake up the next morning. you blearily open your eyes to make out sia's general figure, rosie and fatima undoubtedly chatting quietly in the kitchen.

you vaguely piece together something about fatima having kun over but him sleeping on the couch and you try to push down the guilt that creeps up into your brain as you realize that you had left fatima alone at the party. a party where all of you knew a lot of people (and the outcome was just as everyone had thought it would be) but the principle of the matter stung nonetheless.

you push aside the thought - along with the idea that you should probably apologize to fatima when the cottony feeling in your mouth started to subside - in favor of looking at sia, who is strangely quiet as she watches you gather yourself. for her boisterous personality, sia yoo could see through anyone to the extent of theorized telepathy so you don't even bother trying to hide anything from her.

although, it really is hard to take her seriously when she's got hickey's littered across her neck. well. you suppose you don't look much better at the moment.

"you left before 10 o'clock," sia says simply. you don't pretend to not understand what she means as you nod, pushing yourself up on your bed as fatima and rosie also enter, rosie handing you a glass of water.

"i know," you say softly. "but i want to hear about everyone else's nights right now. i just don't know that i'm in the right headspace to think about why i left so early - i'm not even sure i know why i left so early."

sia says nothing for a moment, watching your face, almost as if she were trying to read your very essence. but she relents, reaching out to hold your hand briefly before completely switching up, speaking animatedly about her very adventurous night, leaving you to simmer in your thoughts.

had sia always been this smart? probably. who's to say that she wasn't, after all?

turns out that sia and johnny were actually going to go on a date on wednesday, after realizing that their chemistry extended further out of the bedroom than either of them had expected. sia was through the roof, obviously, given that she had been thirsting over johnny (although more in a sexual sense than anything else) for so long.

rosie, miyeon, and yugyeom also worked a lot better than any of them had thought so you were sure that you were going to lose your roommate to the other '97 liners more often for the foreseeable future.

fatima was the only one who had a pg night, with kun coming over to her apartment and just chilling together the whole night, eventually having him sleep over since he was too tired to walk back to the apartment that he lived out (it was on the other side of campus, given that he moved out of the nct house pretty late into the semester last year).

"speaking of kun, when are you guys gonna make it official? i mean after this year, you guys are going to only have one year together before you guys graduate," you say, bunching your comforter before letting go. it felt weird saying that. especially in regards to your friends. theoretically, you had all the time in the world together.

but all the time in the world wasn't enough when it came to these girls.

fatima sighs before getting up, wringing her hands together as she thinks. "i don't know. i mean kun's graduating a year early so i really only have this year left. i - i know how much he likes me. i know that he wants to do this right way. go the whole nine yards."

"but...?" rosie says, elongating the syllables as you and sia look at her patiently. fatima shakes her head, getting up to walk around the room, six paces enough to take her from one side of your room to the other.

"i just don't know. kun's great and honestly, i really think that's the one. or at least one of the ones for me. but i just don't know if my parents would be okay with it. i mean my parents are great! they give me so much freedom and honestly, i'm really thankful that my parents allowed me to find religious and spiritual freedom on my own, without ever trying to shove it down my throat."

"but at the same time...how can i betray their trust in me by dating someone who is so far from my religion? like. kun is a great guy but he's not muslim. and sure, i don't follow a lot of the stricter things in islam but i - i have god in my heart. and i don't know that god would want me to start a family that doesn't follow islam. especially since i can see that in my future with kun and kun - i don't know that i could ask kun to convert to another religion for me."

the room is silent for a little bit after fatima finishes, with her collapsing in your bed next to you. rosie and sia exchange a look with each other, and then you, as they both decide to leave the room, leaving you to console fatima.

you were always the most philosophical one out of the bunch anyway.

"look, fatima, i can't pretend to know what it's like to have that kind of mental burden and i really can't understand what it's like to think about the future and be concerned about the impact on the world you might create. i read about something the other day though - did you know that kun means 'manifesting' or 'believing' in arabic?" fatima looks at you with disbelief written all over her face, shaking her head.

"how did you know that?" she asks and you just shrug, nodding at the 'islam for dummies' book you had bought in hopes of understanding a little bit more about one of your closest friend's religion.

"that's not the point. but fatima, you are the single kindest, most beautiful person i know. and i have faith that you will choose what's right for you, not what's right for the people around you because you know better than everyone that the only person who can judge you is god. and no one - no one - on this earth has the right to take that peace away from you."

fatima is silent before wrapping you in her arms, the soft material of her hoodie comforting you and lulling you back into a sleep that's dreamless and calm.

+++

jaehyun doesn't know what to expect when he walks into intro to east asia on monday. should he say hi? wave? start a conversation? should he acknowledge that he spent the better part of his weekend wondering if he would lose his fuckboy status if someone realized just how down bad he was for you?

probably anything but the last one was a good idea.

jaehyun was not in a good state of mind. he was a hot 19 year old man with a near perfect gpa (a whopping 3.98 only because he got a singular a-), a not so terrible set of dimples, and a killer body. and yet he was walking around like how he had been prior to his enlightening summer.

it's almost freeing but also humiliating to think that one night in bed was enough to make him start an entire philosophy but that was where jaehyun was at so who was he to question anything, really?

in fact, jaehyun is so caught up in what he would name his new branch of philosophy (loserism, with a lot of inspiration from zeno) that he doesn't even realize that you've already walked past him and taken your seat.

third row, first seat. you're putting your bag down next to your chair, pulling out your laptop, tossing your hair over your shoulder when it falls in your face. jaehyun tears his eyes away, knowing that this was not a good look for him.

if jaehyun really wanted to pursue you, which he was sure was where all of his jumbled emotions were eventually going to lead him anyway, he knew for a fact that you weren't going to be interested in having to take the lead. especially if jaehyun wasn't even sure that you were interested in the possibility.

but that's a struggle for another day. what was it that stephanie laurens said? that all women want sometimes is a little old-fashioned loving?

that was, in fact, the opposite of what sia had said you were really into but jaehyun had a sneaking suspicion that you wouldn't mind handing the reigns over in the decision making process portion of a relationship, or the courtship, if your time together this weekend alluded to anything.

jaehyun almost misses the beginning of the lecture, where professor ma (no one actually calls him that besides himself) was going into some of his favorite places to stay during his time in china. and while missing any portion of professor ma's lecture was of no crime, he also almost misses the way that you're looking straight at him, faking a yawn when jaehyun finally locks eyes with you.

professor ma was known for giving stellar recommendation letters (which was why johnny had coerced jaehyun into ta'ing for his class in the first place) but he was such a pain in the ass.

jaehyun has to keep from laughing out loud when he sees your exaggerated gestures to show how boring you were finding the professor's lecture to be, pulling himself together in time for him to finally be able to take a seat in the back of the classroom, professor ma having asked him to take attendance for the some two hundred students in the classroom. by hand.

he almost drops the piece of paper that you slide into his hand, subtly slipping it into the pocket of his basketball shorts as makes his way up the flight of stairs to the tenth row, dropping his backpack on the floor next to him, in a rush to open the delicate piece of paper in his hands.

there's only three words on the piece of paper and a series of dashes and yet jaehyun knows that this is all he needs. this is all the signal he needs to know that he wasn't imagining the chemistry or the tension between the two of you. and fuck what anyone said about his 'reputation'; it was jaehyun's turn - the old jaehyun's turn - to get the chance to experience the relationship he had always been dreaming of.

he rereads the little piece of paper before smiling and tucking it into his pocket again.

earn the rest. 9__-___-____.

+++

johnny suh is getting whiplash from his best friend's actions.

one day, he's asking sia yoo if her best friend usually leaves her one night stands by the time they wake up. then he's throwing said one night stand's notes into the trash can before leaving for some frat meeting or another.

the next day, he's carrying another note from the same one night stand he can't seem to get out of his head.

jaehyun doesn't tell johnny anything. he really doesn't need to at this point. johnny suh is a senior in college and he's pretty much seen it all. he's also the vice president of a frat - which means that even if he didn't have all the experience that he did just because of his seniority, he definitely seen it because of the sheer number of stupid decisions frat brothers will find themselves making when they think they're going to either a) get drunk b) get high c) get their dick wet.

johnny knows it's all in good fun (fun that he's definitely not opposed to) but jaehyun's always been a little bit of an enigma when it came to all of it. he was good at the drinking and alright at the getting high and absolutely fan-fucking-tastic at the getting his dick wet.

it was the goddamn dimples. everyone always fell for the dimples.

and sure, while jaehyun had had crushes before (johnny could read his little like no other), they'd always been fueled by the hormonal rush of adrenaline and testosterone pumping through his veins. in fact, johnny's not sure that jaehyun had had a proper crush on anyone at college after getting fucked over in high school, where johnny had also gone to with jaehyun.

not that johnny had really known jaehyun. he was quieter and kept to himself more then. didn't really hang out in the same crowd as johnny.

he knows that's not necessarily true. johnny had, truthfully, just completely overlooked jaehyun. like a lot of girls had until jaehyun had finally started to grow into his features.

but johnny knows jaehyun now and he also knows that if jaehyun had never met gianna lee, jaehyun wouldn't have ever dove headfirst into the deep end of shitfuckery and sleeping around with every breathing body in sight.

cliché story of course. college boy becomes a fuckboy after having his heart broken by a girl in high school. johnny's almost 100% positive that sia's shoved at least two or three novels like those in johnny's face, with the same exact plot.

but what is life but a series of clichés after all. and honestly, did it even matter? it was real. it happened to jaehyun. that was all. end of story.

so johnny doesn't even say a word when he sees the post-it note in jaehyun's trash can. he's silent as he watches sia and jaehyun talk and jaehyun fall into a period of overthinking (and jaehyun knows he's overthinking too because johnny can see him shake his head even as he continues to stare at the 'people' tab of intro to east asia).

and johnny finally decides to break his silence when he sees jaehyun with a new post-it note, although this time it was a much more tame blue post-it, and a pensive look.

jaehyun slips it to johnny to read as they're sitting at the local starbucks, with johnny filling out some paperwork for the job he was signed on for as soon as the school year ended and jaehyun studying for the organic chemistry exam he had coming up the next week.

he doesn't say anything when he passes the note but johnny can see him sideye-ing him to catch his reaction and it's all he can do to keep from letting a little smile slip through.

he hands the piece of paper back, watching as jaehyun immediately stuffs it into his backpack, and for some reason, he's really not sure what to say. if sia were here, she would know exactly what to say, and how to say it. she had a way of saying things that were a little too straightforward to feel good but also obviously coming from a generally good place.

it was one of the reasons why johnny had thought it would be a good idea to make it official with her. sia yoo was nothing like what johnny had thought - and the thought simultaneously frightens him and comforts him.

"you plan on asking her out on a date?" johnny says lightly, sliding his laptop over to pretend to look at his phone casually. in actuality, he's typing furiously to sia (one of the few people that johnny trusted or consulted when it came to advice giving) about what was happening.

johnny is not very surprised when sia's gray bubble appears, disappears, and then appears again only to say, "yeah, i know."

he waits for a more elaborate response. or even a more sia-like response but the more that he talks to her, the more johnny is learning that sia is more unpredictable than she really seems to be.

and sia yoo seems to be completely out of the box.

johnny shakes his head, as if to physically get rid of the thoughts of her from his head, unsure why he was thinking of her when he was supposed to be helping out one of his boys.

"yeah. i think so? i don't know. i mean we had a good time and we definitely have chemistry. but we literally just had one night in bed and that's it." jaehyun furrows his eyebrows as he realizes that's not just it. "well, there is the fact that kun was walking around singing her praises. and i know that fatima wouldn't be friends with kun or y/n if she wasn't sure they're both good people. not to mention the fact that i've always thought she's kinda hot. but it's always been superficial. even us spending the night together was really nothing more than finding each other hot or trying to figure out if the talk around town was real or not."

johnny takes a sip of his americano as he lets jaehyun's words sink into his own mind. jaehyun rests his heads on his arms crossed in front of him and johnny knows exactly the set of thoughts that's running through jaehyun's mind because they were the same as johnny's when he had decided to ask sia out on a date.

is it worth it? is it worth possibly getting my heart strung up on someone again just to face the possibility of breaking it again?

so johnny offers the only advice that he really has.

"talk to roseanne. girls' fiercest protectors are their friends and something tells me that talking to her will make you fall on one side or the other."

+++

the next time that jaehyun sees roseanne is a complete coincidence. he really only meant to say hi to one of his homies, yugyeom, on the way out of the library and hadn't expected to run into roseanne or miyeon at all. especially not a singular day after johnny had suggested that he seek her out in the first place.

he watches as yugyeom thumbs the rip in miyeon's jeans as he continues to talk to jaehyun about something jeongguk had done the previous weekend. and then he sees miyeon press a kiss to roseanne's cheek as she gets up to fill up her water bottle.

jaehyun didn't think he would understand that dynamic at all but whatever floated their boat. who was he to judge? he had watched the barbie movie and was still having a crisis about his masculinity and was actively searching out his one night stand's (were you still just his one night stand?) roommate and best friend to fix it. to be fair, he didn't really fully understand the barbie movie, to the chagrin of doyoung's girlfriend nairobi but that was besides the point.

yeah. jaehyun was really in no position to speak. wow he had a lot of things to work on internally. the more he talked to the women in his life, the more he was realizing this. again. not the point.

roseanne takes one look at his face and then exchanges a look with miyeon and then yugyeom before standing up and walking towards the exit, looking at jaehyun questioningly when she realizes that jaehyun hasn't moved an inch. jaehyun hurriedly bids yugyeom and miyeon goodbye as he rushes after her.

the two of them linger outside of the library and roseanne just raises an eyebrow as she appraises jaehyun. and for some reason, jaehyun stands up straighter, and she just sighs, a small smile playing on her lips.

"let me guess. 'who makes people work for their number? what is this? sprinkle sprinkle type of stuff?' or maybe 'this is kinda cringey, isn't it?' or just a sweet and simple 'what the actual fuck?'" roseanne says nonchalantly, listing out each possible question jaehyun could have come to ask.

"would it make me a bad man if i said yes to all of the above?" jaehyun asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. roseanne shrugs, crossing her arms across her chest.

"not really. i don't think so at least. it's a fair set of questions that even i asked her the first time a guy came up to me asking who the fuck my roommate thought she was," roseanne says. she takes sees the look of confusion on jaehyun's face as she continues, "you're definitely not the first person to ask me that but you are of a selective few. y/n usually doesn't let people get this far in the first place. and secondly, she doesn't really tell us much about people she's interested in until much later."

"she's a strange person, if i'm being honest with you. there's just something about her that makes her so captivating and invisible at the same time. she'll capture the attention of everyone in the room but if you talk to her, she'll make you feel like her best friend. she seems like an open book, and an even more open friend. and you feel so close to her within a conversation and then you end the conversation, you realize that even as she spoke, she revealed nothing about herself."

"i'm her best friend and i could tell you very confidently that i didn't know a single thing about her truly until recently. it made me frustrated at first. like i was a shitty friend or something. but the closer to her i got, the more i realized that she's always been a great friend but no one's been a great friend to her. she's very selective with the people she associates with - not just people she lets herself be seen with but people she confides in."

"this whole thing is a defense mechanism. she'd be caught dead before she'd ever admit it but she just hasn't been loved in the way that she's loved and now she's more guarded for it. i'll tell you this jaehyun, but if you want to give up, do it now. she says she's just going to give you her number if you earn it but once you get all 10 digits, know that she's gonna give you her heart."

"it seems like i'm violating girl code by telling you all this but like i said, even if you were to ask y/n, she would say the same thing. not in so many words but still. like i said. she's an open book and a closed heart. she knows you're gonna ask me and so she only tells me something that she would be okay with you hearing."

jaehyun, who had been listening quietly and patiently the whole time, cuts in with a quiet voice. "isn't it exhausting to live like that?"

roseanne looks at him strangely, as though she was truly seeing him for the first time. jaehyun doesn't know if he's offended or relieved that she'd done what he'd done to sia - made assumptions based on his appearance. he lands on neutral. it's human nature, to try and make proper guesses about who's gonna act like what.

the ancient art of preventing heartbreak, jaehyun supposes.

"maybe. i don't think so though. it's gotta be a different level of relief knowing that no one's gonna talk shit about you because a) no one knows you well enough to do that or b) because you're so careful with who you trust that you know they'd never betray you or even c) they can only talk about what you put out into the world. it's why censorship is so effective. people can only talk about what they know. there's few people who will ignore what they see to find what they can't see tangibly."

"are all of y/n's friends secretly poets or something? why the hell are you guys all speaking cryptically like you're all freemasons or some shit like that. i can't tell if i find it cringey or cool," jaehyun says, cocking his head.

roseanne lets out a real, full bellied laugh at that, clutching her stomach as chuckles escape her. jaehyun's not sure what he's said that's so funny but he knows for a fact that she's not laughing with him, but at him.

"why is it cringey, jaehyun? why would it be cool? it's just what it is. we're just girls. you'll see us at the party next weekend, drinking our weight in alcohol. we'll have the conversations about makeup and dresses and having fun and our future and our past. there's nothing like freemasonry, i promise. it's just so amusing to see men get alarmed by the thoughts that girls have been wrestling with since they've been twelve. the duality of man, i guess," roseanne says finally, once she's caught her breath.

jaehyun doesn't know how to respond to that so he elects to save the remaining tatters of his dignity by just not responding at all. if there's one thing he's learned about you, it's that you surround yourself by women who are not hesitant about putting him in his place. and he's oddly thankful for it.

"i have one last question. well, two last questions, actually," jaehyun says when he sees roseanne turning around to head back inside, still wiping the tears from her eyes from laughing too hard.

roseanne turns, a knowing glint in her eyes even before jaehyun asks his question.

"how many guys have talked to you? and what's the highest number anyone's ever gotten to?"

roseanne is silent and just as the silence begins to turn awkward, she promptly turns on her heel and begins to walk away. she opens the door to the library before she seemingly changes her mind and looks back at jaehyun.

"two guys have talked to me. you're gonna have to ask fatima about the second question though. and jaehyun? the next number is 6."

96_-___-____.

+++

jaehyun finds fatima not soon after his conversation with roseanne. he's sitting in the nct house, watching johnny pace back and forth in his room, trying to figure out if what he was wearing was too casual for a date to a bowling alley.

it was way too formal, in jaehyun's opinion. but he was just going to wait for johnny to finish panicking (even if he would never admit that he was, in fact, panicking) to figure that out on his own. seriously though, who wore a button down and slacks to a bowling alley?

then again, he was going on a date with sia yoo so really, anything was fairplay when it came to that girl. she was a whirlwind of literally everything that could possibly go into a human being. she was a maximalist to the fullest, seizing every opportunity she could to make good memories, pressing forward with a sense of perfect clarity and sobriety that most people would be scared of.

the type of girl who was the main character of any story that she would feature in. sia was the type of person that people who trip and fall over themselves trying to have a good time with that she practically promised. she walked around with fairy dust in her fingers and a strange sense of wisdom that felt like she could read you like a book within a singular meeting with her.

jaehyun knows that she's the most intimidating out of all of the girls. out of you, roseanne, fatima, and sia, she was hands down the most frightening because even though she could read everyone else, no one could really read her.

then there was roseanne. she was the wet dream of every girl alive - the reason why straight girls lamented that they were straight and still falling a little bit in love with her. she was hot, flirtatious to the extent of making everyone wonder what they were when she gave them even a split second of attention, and so incredibly full of life. it doesn't surprise jaehyun that she had become exclusive with miyeon and yugyeom. for some reason, he feels like she just wouldn't have been able to settle for liking one person at once.

she was a little too much for just one person to be able to handle. she was like the human personification of a leather jacket wearing, motorcycle driving, woody cologne smelling wattpad trope. jaehyun understands her appeal all too well.

and then there was fatima. she was kind, sweet, kept to herself, and always offered a helping hand to those around her. jaehyun understood why kun had fallen so hard for her within two minutes of meeting her. she had an air about her that made you feel like she was someone who truly cared about you, even if you didn't know her and she didn't know you all that well. she was the type of girl who was always forgotten in the novels about warriors and princesses. the girl who was often reduced to nothing more than the main character's best friend.

until you met a girl like her in real life. fatima was still a little forgotten, and jaehyun knew that. guys often overlooked her in favor of her 'hotter' or 'wilder' friends, which is admittedly what jaehyun had thought at first. but she was just so genuine and clearheaded. she protected her peace in a way that was so unusual for young, college-going students. not to say that sia, roseanne, or you weren't genuine or anything like that. but fatima was the type of girl that jaehyun knew was perfect for kun. the girl that he could go home and know that no matter what he had done in his past, she would love him all the same.

and there was you. smart, strangely private, and a series of contradictions housed within one heart. jaehyun wracks his brain, trying to gather everything that he knew about you and yet, he comes up empty.

frustratingly empty.

jaehyun vaguely registers the fact that johnny has finally changed and is getting ready to go. he knows that he should say something about how johnny should just be himself and that sia liking him is completely up to her, regardless of what johnny were to do. but when he locks eyes with johnny, he realizes that johnny already knows.

so jaehyun just claps him on the back as he heads back to his room, his mind spinning as he tries to think of everything that he knows about you. and he draws a blank every fucking time.

he knows superficial things about you. maybe it's because he doesn't know you like he knows your friends. he hasn't talked to you as much as he's talked to them. but how does he not know you? he's been wanting to get with you for so long. he wanted more than just your body. he wanted your charm and your appeal.

was it just your body? is that all it was? is that all jaehyun wanted? somehow, jaehyun doesn't want to believe that. he doesn't want that for himself. logically, he knows that gianna's impact on his life shouldn't be extending this far. he knows that he shouldn't want or have to fight himself this hard but you're not making it much easier for him.

when was the last time jaehyun wanted to get to know such an enigma of a girl? gianna lee. and he wants nothing to do with a girl like that ever again.

and yet, here he is. falling into the same trap all over again.

jaehyun's so caught up in his own thoughts, feeling himself starting to spiral when he bumps in fatima and kun, who are equally caught up in a conversation with each other.

"oh, my bad," jaehyun mumbles, ready for fatima to brush past him but she doesn't, looking at jaehyun and then kun.

"hey man, we're headed back to my place. why don't you come back with us?" kun offers, and jaehyun just nods blankly, as he starts to follow them out of the nct house. kun stops at the entrance where he picks up a textbook from yuta, who had been borrowing it for the last week, before the three of them make their way out.

"how are you, jaehyun?" fatima asks with a sweet smile as they pile into kun's car. somehow, jaehyun doesn't want to give her a generic, insincere answer.

"i'm...okay. i'm just okay. confused but okay," jaehyun says and fatima seems alright with this answer. kun pulls out of the 'driveway' of the frat house, exchanging in a quiet conversation with fatima about what they were planning on eating for the night, leaving jaehyun to simmer in his thoughts.

gianna lee. there was a name that he thought about almost every day and never all at the same time. the girl who had made him and broke him. the girl that jaehyun had trusted with his heart and made him regret ever doing that.

the girl who had been the first love of his life.

+++

gianna was a year younger than him. smart, so incredibly sweet, and yet someone that no one could confidently say that they knew. she was the type of girl who could slip under the radar as easily as her friends seemed to always stay on top of.

she ran in the same circle as jaehyun had in senior year, right when jaehyun was beginning to blossom into the man that he was today. she had always been kind to him, if not a little withdrawn, even when he was a skinny boy with proportions that absolutely did not seem to match each other.

jaehyun didn't even know her well enough for her to break his heart, honestly. jaehyun had liked her even before having a proper conversation with her. he knew how left out she felt in her own body. even though he couldn't imagine a more gorgeous girl, he knew that she didn't feel that way about herself.

he knew that she always compared herself to her friends. her well-accomplished, 'main character' best friends who were the talk of the school. and her. no matter how intelligent or kind or put together she was, no one really looked at her the way that jaehyun did. she knew it.

even jaehyun couldn't place why he liked her so much. maybe it was the fact that he was somehow comforted that a girl with so much beauty could feel the same way as him. maybe it was the fact that she had always held the same smile for him, regardless of what he looked like. or maybe it was even the fact that one time, she had held his hand as she pulled him across the street, running to catch up with their friends who had already crossed.

jaehyun just remembers looking at her dyed cherry red hair falling into her eyes as she laughs, pulling him forward to where the rest of their friends were standing. and as he breathes in the smoke in the air and the raspberry scent of her perfume, he just knows that he really, truly likes gianna lee.

gianna lee doesn't like him the way that he likes her. he knows that. logically, jaehyun knows that his feelings are truly unfounded. he really has no reason to like gianna the way that he does. and yet, there's a part of him that holds onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, she'll turn around with those big eyes and upturned lips and say that she likes him the way that he likes her.

so he continues to look at her first when he makes the friend group laugh. he always slips her a napkin when he's getting one for himself when they're out getting milkshakes. he offers to help her with apush when she's stressing about a test the next week.

the closer he gets to her, the more jaehyun realizes that really, she was nothing like the image of her he had conjured in his head. she was every bit sweet as he had thought but she was argumentative, competitive, and all too obsessed with perfection. she always needed to be right in an argument, always had to win, and always had to make sure that she looked flawless doing so.

jaehyun doesn't realize it, of course. he's so obsessed with his glazed over façade of her that he just continues to let her win the arguments even when he knows that she's wrong. and she lets him wrap his arms around her when she gets an 89% on her test.

he lets her walk all over him and she lets him act on his feelings.

it was a toxic, parasitic relationship that neither of them were truly happy in. when gianna asked him out, jaehyun hadn't felt like fireworks were going off in his stomach. he felt like he had won a prize at a marathon. like he'd won a medal.

gianna wasn't a medal. she was a flawed, beautiful human being - every bit gorgeous and horrible as jaehyun and every other human being was. but jaehyun had won, hadn't he?

he hadn't. and it took so long for him to realize that by the time he'd realized that gianna had really only taken to him out of pity, he was so far in his own head that he didn't know how to leave her.

eventually, the summer before college rolled around and gianna had taken it upon herself to do the nasty deed of breaking up with him. it had been an amicable split, as far as their friends were concerned.

but none of them had ever truly either of their friends. so what did they know?

what did they know about gianna finding comfort in her ex's arms? what did they know about her grades slipping at the end of the school year? what did they know about her having to excuse herself at a meeting for her internship to sob in the bathroom as she realized the true fallacy in the way she had acted? what did they know about the way she had to reconstruct herself bottom up? nothing.

what did they know about jaehyun spending every other night with a different girl, trying to ease the ache in his heart? what did they know about the obscene number of hours at the gym, not sure how to combat the sudden numbness after girl after girl? what did they know about the fact that jaehyun could not physically stand the smell of raspberries anymore? absolutely nothing.

no one knew anything until jaehyun had finally come to college. it was once he joined the frat and met guys who were so alike and different from him at the same time that he finally opened up about gianna.

only to doyoung, kun, and johnny but people nonetheless. everyone had gone through something similar - while for some it happened at college or back home, they all knew the pain. some of them were more in the fault than others but pain is pain and a paper cut bleeds the same red as a gunshot wound.

which is why when kun sits him down on the couch and fatima hands him a cup of iced tea to save them all from the sweltering heat as august makes a last stand against september's winds, jaehyun spills everything.

gianna. his past. his insecurities. everything. he knows he shouldn't. logically, fatima had nothing stopping her from going and telling everything that jaehyun had told her to you, but for some reason, jaehyun thinks that she won't.

she doesn't.

+++

fatima knows that jaehyun was going to talk to her about something like this. it seemed that all of the nct boys came with some level of trauma like this. she wasn't sure what it was about every single boy she had met in college (although, granted, they were either her friends' conquests or kun's friends - a very interesting group of very intertwined boys) having their hearts getting ripped to shreds. sometimes it was of their own volition but they all seemed to be some level of hurt either way.

so when jaehyun spills his heart out on kun's carpeted floors, she's ready with a well-rehearsed speech. he's one of six boys she'd already had this same exact conversation with (kun has a bad habit of picking up strays) but when he looks at her with such raw anguish in his eyes, she falters.

she looks to kun, who's looking at her with the same question that she knows jaehyun is asking.

"how do you know when to choose between your head and your heart? because my heart is so fucking scared of getting attached to someone again. but my head knows that i can't push everyone away because i'm scared."

fatima is quiet, searching for the right words. she's about to say something when kun speaks up, looking determinedly at fatima.

"you learn to choose you. instead of choosing between your head and your heart, just choose yourself. at the end of the day, you and y/n are good people who aren't trying to hurt each other. you're both trying not to get hurt. and honestly, maybe you'll realize that you both are better off as friends along the way. maybe you just realize that you don't want to be with someone right now. or maybe you find someone who makes you feel like you're safe and loved when you're around them, whether you're in love with them or not." fatima looks at kun with a soft smile, reaching out to hold his hand gently.

"you have to choose yourself, jaehyun. trust me. the more you start thinking about what is best for the people around you instead of thinking for yourself, you'll look back fifteen, twenty years down the road and see everyone but yourself in your life. don't do something because gianna and how she made you feel. don't let your past define your future," fatima says, and jaehyun can feel the tears prick his eyes. he blinks determinedly, trying to make them disappear but when kun sits on one side of him and fatima on the other, he starts losing his battle against his emotions, finally letting himself mourn the innocence he had once had.

he buries his head into fatima's shoulder and for some reason, he feels as though kun and fatima would be amazing parents. because jaehyun doesn't remember the last time that he had felt this safe in an embrace.

"and jaehyun? the furthest anyone has ever gotten is five numbers. you're at three. it's your call from here. do what you want, not what you think you need to do." fatima taps his shoulder gently and lets him cry for as long as he needs to.

963-___-____.

+++

jaehyun gets the next number from you. after his conversation with fatima, he's sure that if he wants to go any further than this, he needed to talk to you first.

it's strange. he's earning your number but it feels like jaehyun's somehow earning himself back. and when he finds you again, he knows that you can tell.

even johnny could tell. when he had come back from his (successful) date with sia, the first thing he had said was, "wow. you look so...light."

jaehyun hadn't said anything but 'thank you' but it was enough.

johnny had just smiled at him and recounted the date, stating that he was going to ask her to go on another date this saturday night. jaehyun doesn't mention the fact that nct is throwing that night because johnny already knows.

and honestly, sia is a junior and johnny is a senior. they've been to their fair share of parties. one party being missed wouldn't be life changing for them. but skipping a party as the vice president of a frat and a girl who was sought after as a sweetheart for six frats meant something nonetheless.

he hadn't expected that they were to get that serious that quickly but it was a refreshing change. even fatima and kun were starting about talking about talking to fatima's parents to get their blessing for their relationship. her dilemma was no secret and it seemed that the conversation between the three of them had served to help them through their own issues as well.

there was just something in the air, jaehyun had supposed. august turned to september in the week that jaehyun had wrestled with himself, eventually leading to seeking you out.

it had been at the nct party, actually. you were standing with some of your acquaintances, all of your friends having dispersed to do what they were going to do. jaehyun had been on the other side of the room, convincing bambam that it was most definitely not a good idea to try and pursue soyeon jeon if he wanted to make sure that he woke up with all his limbs intact the next morning.

you had met his eye, raising an eyebrow before continuing your conversation, all thoughts of him seemingly out of your mind. jaehyun looks between bambam (who has gone from trying to get with soyeon to jumping into the pool) (that pool had not been cleaned in a full six months) and you. he just finds jungwoo, one of the pledges, and hands him a very drunk bambam.

"do not let him do anything dumb. i'm counting on you pledge," jaehyun called out over his shoulder as he weaves through people to get to you.

"jaehyun! hey! long time no see," hailey whitfield says, throwing herself in jaehyun's arms. jaehyun looks at you, where you're staring straight at where hailey's body ends and his arms begin. jaehyun tries to push her off of him. once upon a time, jaehyun would've been behind happy about getting with her again - she was so good with her mouth. but now, he has no intentions of giving you the wrong impression.

at least until he has a proper conversation with you so that you knew where he stood with you. and where you stood with him.

"hey hailey, sorry i've gotta get to my friend," he says, not even looking at her as he pushes off of her, resuming his threading through the crowd to where you're standing. you look at him, unimpressed, but jaehyun knows you well enough to know that three numbers are enough to make you feel a certain way if jaehyun was fooling around with other girls.

which he hasn't been. not a single night. jaehyun jung's bed has been empty for an entire two weeks, something that doyoung and nairobi have been taking full advantage of.

even some of jaehyun's friends had started asking if he was having problems or something but he had brushed them off. he definitely wasn't having problems, if hailey whitfield was any indication. but he felt like it would be doing you dirty if he had someone in his bed while he was talking to your friends about you.

so he hadn't.

he knows you know. he knows that you know he's talked to sia, roseanne, and fatima. he'd figured that you'd find out either through them or just by him. he can tell by the look in your eyes that you've read him thoroughly.

so he really doesn't feel bad about pulling you away from your friends, taking you upstairs to his room. finally, doyoung had promised that they would go back to nairobi's place on the condition that jaehyun made sure that no one would try to fuck on his bed. he promised, knowing that the only person who'd be coming up here would be him. he needed to talk to you tonight. if he knew anything it was that.

but once you're sitting on his bed, watching him pace back and forward, he's lost everything he's been wanting to say. where does he even start? with gianna? with the questions he has for you? with the number? where does he begin?

jaehyun looks at you, where you're watching him with a small smile on your face and suddenly, it doesn't matter where he begins. you'll listen to it all. he knows that much.

"why do you want me to work for your number?" jaehyun asks. you look at him curiously, tilting your head as you piece together an answer.

"are you sure you don't know the answer to that question?" you say, folding your legs so that you're sitting criss cross on the navy covers.

"i do. but i want to hear it from you, y/n. you know what all your friends say about you? that they didn't properly know you until a full year of friendship with you. but they said that you never lie. so i want you to tell me," jaehyun says, chest heaving by the end of his ramble. his eyes turn soft as he watches you become more and more solemn and he steps forward, sitting down on his desk chair and swiveling it over so that he was sitting directly across from you.

you pause for a moment, searching for the words before saying anything. "i've never been in a relationship before. so i don't have the trauma that could come from something like that. but i know what it's like to lose your heart to someone. and i know that it hurts. i want to be loved in the way that i never thought i could be. so the number thing is just an excuse for me to get to the point where i won't feel guilty about liking someone."

you shrug, smiling but not allowing the smile to reach your eyes. "it's a good way to make sure that the guy knows what he's getting into either way."

jaehyun nods at that. he knew that much. it feels different hearing it from you though. when you're the one saying it, jaehyun knows that it's real. raw. not coming from people trying to protect you because they know that you're far too soft to truly come at him guns blazing.

somehow, he likes it. he likes that you're much softer than you seem. that you're a lot more vulnerable than you come off as. and for some reason, jaehyun hopes that you never perfect the art of becoming standoffish.

"hmm. you've never been in a relationship before?" jaehyun says finally and you nod, shrugging once more. a shadow of bittersweet nostalgia crosses your face before you're back to your soft smile and guarded yet curious eyes.

"nope. part of it was on me; i've got high standards, if you can't tell. and the other part was that i've always wanted someone who fascinates me. of course, i wasn't all that appealing to men because i spent so much time trying to beat them at the only thing they were good at - ego-boosting themselves but they weren't interesting. none of them were people i really wanted to get to know," you say, unfolding your legs.

jaehyun likes the fact that the tips of your toes are the only part of your feet that touch the ground from how far back you're sitting on the bed. in an act of boldness, jaehyun moves forward to sit next to you, right where you're sitting. his feet are flat on the floor, he realizes.

he doesn't know why he's noticing things like this but he is and something about that frustrates him, frightens him, and tugs at his heartstrings altogether.

"you're heartbroken, aren't you? boys like you always seem to be a little hurt," you say, tossing the words into the air like rose petals. they're recklessly thrown but they're somehow beautiful in the way that blackened roses are always beautiful.

"yeah. i was. i think i will always mourn who i was before that. i was so naïve. but i'm not him anymore. and i think i'm realizing that i'm actually okay with that." jaehyun says the words just as carelessly as you do but once they're out in the open, he realizes that he's being completely honest. he turns to you with a strange look though.

"boys like me?"

you smile and nod at him. "boys like you."

you stand up, walking to where jaehyun has a corkboard with a shitload of scraps and photos from the past two years. you don't mention the fact that none of the memories that he has on the board date from before senior year. you don't need to.

"boys like you who've never been loved completely. boys who think that they need to listen to what the world says about how they should be acting or thinking. boys who are hopeless romantics but what would the world say if they knew that these boys just wanted a little bit of love? what would they say if they were looking for warmth in an empty and cold bed?"

jaehyun hates that you're right. it's the college boy tragedy. condemned to never be able to completely heal from one bad experience and then always breaking hearts to collect enough pieces to build themselves a new one.

he didn't want to end like that. even if it wasn't with you, he was ready to grow past it. he didn't want to end as a heartbreaker.

"boys like me...and you like a boy like me?" jaehyun asks. he doesn't know why he does. this is the first proper conversation you've had with him when both of you are decidedly sober. you want to deflect the question but if he's being honest, that's a sign for you to be just as honest.

"i don't know. from what my friends say, and what i know about you as a person in class, i know you mean well. and honestly, i've always just been the type of person to like someone past things like the books they read or the way they dress," you say, still looking at the memories jaehyun's pieced together over the years on this board. "i feel something around you. and i don't know you well enough to know that i like you as someone more than a friend but i'd like to at least have the chance to get that far."

that's all jaehyun needs. he gets another number that night.

+++

jaehyun waits for you outside of intro to east asia, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he waits for you to make it out of the classroom. you're the last one to leave, knowing that technically, you and jaehyun weren't allowed to see each other while he was your ta.

jaehyun had never really pegged you as someone with so much respect for the rules but you had argued that it was mostly about the principle.

he'd learned a lot about you that last weekend. you and him had stayed up all night, talking about nothing and everything under the sun until the sun itself rose, eventually falling asleep in a tangled mess of limbs and conversations.

he learned that while you didn't like the rules, you often followed them as long as they followed your own moral code. that you would die for your friends and that had landed you in many bad friendships when people would use that to their advantage before you'd met your friends in college. he learned that you were super close with your family, and that they were quite literally the best friends that you could always rely on.

and he learned that you wanted to see him again. on a date. sometime soon. so with no real way of communicating with you outside of social media (and he somehow felt like sliding into your dm's was corny and somewhat of a copout), here he was. waiting outside of the classroom like he was ripped straight from a 1950's romance movie. he even had the letterman jacket on to boot.

"oh my god, you scared me," you say, pressing a hand to your chest as you quite nearly bump into jaehyun. he smiles, readjusting his backpack on his shoulders as the two of you start walking.

"you knew i was waiting for you outside, didn't you?" he says, pushing the side door open to walk towards the parking lot, where he's convinced kun to let him borrow his car for the day.

"yeah but i didn't think you would be literally outside the door," you murmur, checking your phone to see the rest of your day's schedule. you had purposefully blocked off three hours of your schedule to hang out with jaehyun, which you were sure to regret later on when your organic chemistry class kicked your ass. but that was a later issue.

"well, i couldn't text you where i was so i figured i'd wait in plain sight," jaehyun retorts, opening the passenger door for you without a word. huh. that was the first time a man has ever done that for you. and jaehyun did it as though it were second nature - like it was a given.

you don't know why something so small means so much to you but you're alright with it. you're alright with just appreciating it.

"that's fair," you say. another number's on the tip of your tongue as you watch him get into the driver's seat but jaehyun beats you to the punch.

"don't give me a number. not yet," jaehyun says. "not that i don't want one. but i just...me waiting outside your classroom or opening your door isn't enough for a number. even if i don't get all ten, you've got to up your standards."

you don't know what to say to that so you don't say anything, turning on the music and letting the melody of chemtrails under the country club by lana del ray fill the rainy september afternoon sky.

+++

when jaehyun pulls up to a run down diner, you're pleasantly surprised. although you're not much of a sucker for romantic places, the fact that jaehyun is somehow makes you happy. it makes you happy that he still sees the beauty in places like these. and when you look over at him, dimples threatening to show as he breathes in the air of misty fog and the smell of milkshakes and burgers, you're so tempted to kiss him.

so you lean over, looking at him with a twinkle in your eyes once jaehyun has parked.

"can i kiss you?" you ask, mere inches from his lips. jaehyun just looks at you, and from this close, you realize just how beautiful his eyes are. they're dark, darker than anyone else's that you know. and yet, it feels like you could fall in and never regret it.

"please."

it's all you need. and it's all he needs because as soon as word slips from his lips, he's pressing forward, his lips against yours. he's soft, you register vaguely. nothing like last time. nothing like how he'd kissed you like he could think of nothing but absolutely ruining you.

jaehyun is soft. like the feeling of slipping a cold hand into someone's warm jacket pocket. he kisses you like he's scared of ruining you. ruining this. and you're absolutely addicted to the feeling.

the feeling of knowing that he could just claim you instead of trying his best to claim your heart. no matter how fucked up it was that you were even thinking that someone could 'claim' you. he wasn't like that and you could work with that.

he pulls away from you, eyes still closed as he sits against the drivers seat, his head against the headrest. you watch him, a silly and childish smile on your face - although you're not really sure why it's there in the first place. but who are you to knock anything?

there aren't many words to exchange as the two of you make your way into the diner. jaehyun had opened your car door again. this time, you just offer him your hand and you're strangely alright with just how safe you feel with his hand locked in yours.

the diner seems as though time has frozen still here.

and everything about the date seems the same. it feels as though time has frozen still - almost as though the two of you are in a little bubble with no one but each other. it's a feeling you haven't experienced in a while. a feeling you don't think you've ever had because of a boy.

it feels...almost scarily comfortable. it doesn't feel as though there are fireworks exploding for every word that jaehyun says. but it does feel as though that there's a hot mug of cocoa that's been handed to you on a cold winter night. and that feeling, the feeling of warmth spreading through every corner of your body, is the feeling that you know is good for you.

so you listen to him, watch him speak animatedly about basketball or a book he read, chin resting in your palm as you find yourself falling deeper and deeper.

jaehyun gets two numbers that day.

+++

it doesn't take much longer for jaehyun to get the rest of the numbers. soon enough, you're more than happy just to spend time with him the way that you spend time with your friends. you feel as though you've made a good friend out of someone you'd thought that you wouldn't even be able to get along with.

"you know, when i first met you, even before i knew you, i really didn't like you," you say, taking a sip out of your latte. the seasons have changed, fall giving way to winter. the november air bites your skin every time someone opens the door to the tiny café the two of you were sitting in.

jaehyun smiles, nodding as he leans back in his chair. "i know. i could tell by the look in your eyes."

"the look in my eyes?"

"yeah. the one that said that you wanted to get to know me. to figure out my deal even if you didn't necessarily want to find out for sure. kind of like you wanted to be the one that said 'aha!' at the end of a movie, even though you weren't sure of the ending at all."

you look at jaehyun for a moment before laughing, shaking your head as you laugh. "you're even starting to talk like me now."

jaehyun pauses before he nods, smiling with you. "yeah, i know. you've rubbed off on me in a lot of ways."

"i've improved your music taste, that's for sure," you snort, taking another sip out of your latte. "i still can't believe you didn't like ric flair drip when we met."

"it's not that i didn't like it and it's still not that i like it now. but i guess i just have a good memory associated with it now so it's growing on me," jaehyun says. your eyebrows furrow as you try to recollect what good memory he could possibly be referring to.

"oh my god. the night that we met! i was trying to get in your pants with ric flair drip," you say incredulously, shivering when someone opens and closes the door once more. jaehyun hands you his hoodie, leaving his arm extended silently when you protest.

you don't know why you still bother trying to protest with him when you knew you were going to lose. you put the sweater on as jaehyun starts talking, letting the scent of clean water and pine trees swaddle you softly.

"honestly, i think i was more than you that night," jaehyun says, as he looks at you with an incriminating twinkle in his eyes. "that was around the time that even taeyong said that he wanted to see if kun's vivid descriptions were true or not. and i wasn't about to let him get the opportunity to get to you before i did. i don't know why. i felt almost protective over you. but not in a good way. in the type of way where i wanted to show you how good i could make you feel - more than anyone could even begin to think of making you feel."

the previously cold café begins to become a lot hotter than you were feeling before, clearing your throat as you try to let the moment pass.

"how did we even get here?" you say, fanning yourself delicately. the move only serves to work against you when you fan yourself so that the scent of his cologne on his hoodie only gets stronger in your mind.

jaehyun leans back, letting you switch the conversation. he'd bring it up to you later in the night, anyway. besides, for someone who puts on such a strong front, it's honestly a little fun to see you squirm at the slightest implications from jaehyun.

"but, uh, jaehyun. i've been meaning to ask you something for a while," you begin, fidgeting with the wrapper of the straw in front of you. jaehyun tilts his head as if to question what you have to say as he waits patiently.

"what are we?"

now jaehyun is truly confused. was the past month of going on dates not clear enough? jaehyun wasn't going on dates with anyone else. oh my god. were you going on dates with other men? is that why you're asking.

"i thought we were dating?" jaehyun says, phrasing his sentence more like a question than a statement. "i mean i'm not talking to anyone else and i kinda assumed that since i'd gotten all ten numbers, neither were you."

you hum, unable to stop the silly smile on your face.

"good. that's just what i was thinking too."

+++

honestly, everything about jaehyun jung is appealing to you. from the way that he engulfs you in a hug when you're up late studying. or the way that he convinces you that you have a virus on your laptop just so that he could spend more time with you 'fixing' your laptop for you. or the way that he sits with you and your friends, patiently listening and offering advice wherever he can (or honestly, is just allowed to speak).

you're so glad to see him like this. as your boyfriend of four and a half months (you hadn't let him make it official until he was no longer your ta), you've seen him grow in ways that you'd never thought. jaehyun was every inch the stupid, naïve fuckboy you'd thought him to be in the beginning. and he was also every inch the hopeless romantic with a little too much love to give for a scarred heart.

so you heal together. you help each other when you quite literally can't handle the pain and together, you grow. he's more confident. not just in the way that he looks - but the way that he speaks around people. the way that he educates himself. the way that he communicates how he feels.

and he helps you everyday. he shows you what it feels like to be loved the way you love others. he shows you that you are worth the princess treatment. and most importantly for you, he loves the people around you the way you love the people around you.

kun and fatima find their happy ending. fatima had spoken to her parents and while they took some time to warm up to kun, his soft demeanor and the way that he loved fatima so completely and sincerely eventually won them over. fatima even met kun's parents with equal success, although kun's mother kept asking when fatima and kun would get married.

(their wedding was already in the works by both fatima's mother and kun's mother. you were beyond elated to go to both the traditional muslim ceremony and the traditional chinese ceremonies.)

johnny and sia ended up going out on a couple more dates before realizing that they probably just weren't meant to be a couple. they loved each other as friends and were probably always going to hold a special place in each other's lives but it just wouldn't be as each other's significant others. johnny was already starting to retreat from the frat boy lifestyle after meeting a girl at the library one day. and sia had finally met someone who could handle her crazy personality with a sweet smile, bringing her back down to reality whenever she went a little...too lively. you're looking forward to meeting him over summer, where the four of you and your friends were going on a vacation together.

roseanne, yugyeom, and miyeon still haven't put a label on their relationship. but you've caught roseanne falling asleep in yugyeom's arms more than once (one too many times than rosie cares to admit) so you figure that it's a good thing that they've all found each other. as unconventional as their relationship might be, they all mesh together so well that you can't even find it in yourself to question it. all's fair in love and war.

jaehyun and you frequent the diner as a favorite date night spot to visit, although you're upset to hear that they're remodeling the entire establishment for favor of a new, more 'modern' atmosphere. although how modern a diner could get was a little bit of a strange notion. but as people change, so do the winds.

and when you walk into the diner the next semester, hand in hand with jaehyun, you're a little comforted to see that diner is now a speakeasy (in true 1970s fashion) with three words written in blinding rhinestones against the velvet background. of course.

ric flair drip.

[sluttsumu]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ CASE OF THE EX

ೃ࿐ feat. gojo satoru

in which: you run into your ex husband just when he realizes he needs you back.

contains: nsfw, smut, exhusband!gojo, dubcon, infidelity, intoxicated sex (alcohol), breeding, gojo calls reader wifey, exhibitionism if you squint. wc: 1.3k

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this was supposedly to be a drabble and ended up being way longer than expected. i’m also trying out a diff writing style lmk whatcha think!

it’s freezing, as it normally is in december, but this was a different type of cold.

the standing on your ex husband’s porch, four glasses of wine deep, kind of cold. you’ve been standing outside for borderline five minutes, but you know he’s home.

“satoru..” the door creaks open to a very tipsy gojo standing on the other side. he’s quick to pull you in without another word because, “it’s freezing, why are you here this late?”

locking the door behind you he winces, rubbing his eyes trying to remember what day of the week it is. “is it my weekend to have her?”

her being your daughter, satoru’s beloved angel — the only other girl he’s ever loved besides you.

loved. past tense.

he swears he’s still inlove with you but you never believed it. you hated gojo satoru, but that’s just what you wanted yourself to think. he’s been trying to break down this wall of resentment for months, after all it’s been almost a year since you two split.

“she’s at your mothers house, i dropped her off last night.”

gojo could breathe easy knowing his daughter isn’t here, he didn’t want her to him like this; drunk, that is.

you watched as he disappears into the kitchen, taking your coat and shoes off, leaving them in familiar places.

you don’t why you’re here, back in this house, with him. it’s almost as if you were on autopilot directing yourself to a common place with no intention just…there.

he comes back with a bottle in one hand and two crystal glasses in the other, staring blankly before asking again, “why are you here?”

the silence was loud enough, it was actually the most you two have spoken in the past year.

—

“do you miss me?” smirking with the tilt of his head he rests his head in his palm, eyes flickering between you and the full shot in front of you. the two of you playing a variation of truth or drink.

“satoru…don’t do this to me.” you face palm.

“i know you do, but if your ego is too big to admit it then take it.” slender fingers slide the glass your way, you could see your reflection in the liquid, and god, you look guilty.

speaking of looks, if they could kill you’d be a dead woman. the way he looks back at you across the table reminds you of all of the reasons you crave gojo satoru.

you took the shot, quickly too. it burned going down almost lighting your body on fire in a self-sabotaging way. he found pleasure in watching you not admitting the blatant fact.

“you deny it but it’s true,” standing, he downs the contents of his glass mid-sentence, making you both somewhat even in intoxication.

the ‘clink’ of him setting his glass down next to yours echos as he’s now moved from sitting across to standing in front of you.

“ ‘m sure there a lot you miss about me, hmm?” his hands slide between your hair and skin, four out of five digits resting on the nape of your neck, his thumbs brushing against your cheek.

from gojo’s pov he couldn’t have you in a better place, literally in the palm of his hand. as crazy as it sounds he had to do this, he loves you, and love makes you do some…not nice things.

to be fair, manipulation and persuasion are not the same to him. he never told you to come over, but then again he could’ve called you an uber and sent you back home…that would’ve been the ‘right’ thing to do.

unfortunately for you everything that comes to mind in the head of gojo satoru is right.

you nod shyly, listening to each saccharine word that leaves his lips.

“c’mon wifey, it’s been so long” the nickname filled your chest, heavy. suddenly it was impossible to move from where you sat. “i’m seeing someone..” a hand, on his chest as a half-assed attempt to defy him.

—

“s-satoru!” you sound so cute under him, clawing at his sheets. that little confession did something to him, made him want to punish you in the most primal way.

seeing someone? oh that’s not happening, not as long as he’s breathing will you ever be with another man. you’ll always be his pretty, little, obedient wife, who spreads her legs for him any time he pleases.

after all you’re still legally married. gojo refused to sign the divorce papers you sent him and eventually you stopped trying.

you could feel a vibrating pulse within the sheets, it was your phone ringing at a time like this.

“hello?” he answers the phone mid-fuck. “oh well if it isn’t your little boyfriend? i’m in the middle of fucking your girl silly, clearly you haven’t been doing it right..”

his pace increases to a gruelling speed, each thrust clapping against your ass, and it was fucking loud. “fuck! satoru please—! hang uuuuuup.” your begging only fuelled the fire, you needed to know who you belong to and so did your boy toy on the other line.

gojo can’t help but chuckle pridefully, watching you impaled on his cock, but he needed to hear it. no, the sounds of you practically crying while he fucked you wasn’t enough. he wants to hear you beg for him, praise him even. like a god.

“let him hear it wifey ♡︎” he frees a hand by placing the phone next to your head.

“tell him how much,” thrust. “you need your husband’s cock.” thrust. “i fuck so much better than him don’t i ?” thrust. “awe.. you cryin’?”

“need it—! want it satoru! you’re so— hahh! —good!” he was made to torture you like this, fucking you dumb into his mattress while making you spew naughty things for him.

you could feel his speed getting aggressive. beads of sweat falling down his toned tummy to his v-line, the two of you making a sticky mess from being skin to skin. you couldn’t think, mind hazy and full of him.

“fuuuuuck, how about i stuff you full? maybe i should give you another baby, ‘nother reason to be attached to me.” the hypnosis in his voice casts you further under his spell as he grunts sweet nothings into you ear while he pounded your pussy.

“love it,” you growl into his pillows. “i love you satoru! cumming…i’m cumming, please let me cum—” you could only focus on the high washing over your body as your legs begin trembling, muscles spazzing at your arousal tipping over the edge.

your desperation is music to his ears, his lust turning uncontrollable as he assaults your cunt fucking you hard, and deep. at this rate he’ll get you pregnant.

“cum for me, cum with me— shit!” he drawls, gritted through his teeth, bottoming out in his favourite fucking pussy. this feeling will never get old, fucking you will never not be his favourite pastime.

meanwhile the overstimulation teasing your cunt made you that much wetter, and tighter for him. you couldn’t take it anymore, you need it — need his seed sopping out of you. you didn’t even care about your boyfriend who was still listening to this live porn. gojo’s rewired that wondering brain of yours. back to him, in this house, on his bed, fucking his cock.

you might just even take him back.

his pleasure builds as he pumps into your cunt a few more times, before emptying inside of you. you could feel it, cunt full of him. his body collapses on top of yours, fingers intertwining on your hands while you both catch your breath.

“she’s not coming home.” the line cuts.

© SLUTTSUMU 2023 - please refrain from copying, reposting or translating.

[marlynnofmany]

Drying Out

The wind on this alien planet was like I’d expected: not quite strong enough to put my balance at risk, but enough to make me glad I’d braided my hair back extra tight. Even with that precaution, little hair tendrils were whipping the sides of my face as I walked, and I didn’t have a hand free to brush them away. I was, as usual, carrying a box.

Mur could have carried it, but it would have been much harder for him, since he needed his tentacles to walk. Lucky bipedal me, with my free hands. I tried to focus on that as I squinted into the wind, scanning the nearly-deserted spaceport for our clients. I really should have brought goggles. Or at least a hat that wouldn’t get blown off.

A beanie would be perfect right now, I thought. Or even a scarf. I could be nice and fashionable with my swim goggles and a tie-dye bandanna. Why did I grab chapstick but nothing for my eyes?

I knew it was because Wio had only mentioned the drying properties of the local air when I’d asked. She was a Strongarm like Mur, and they admittedly had different priorities. No hair, for one.

“There they are,” Mur said over the wind. Not a thing got in his eyes.

I followed the direction of his blue-black tentacle, and spotted the little alcove that looked like an old fashioned bus stop. Three small whitish shapes huddled there that I’d thought were trash bags. Whoops. A bit of judicious squinting showed that they were another pair of tentacle folk and their bag of belongings, avoiding the worst of the wind.

Not a bad idea.

They unfurled as we got close enough for them to see the package and correctly deduce that we were here to deliver whatever they’d ordered. Miscellaneous stuff from an offworld store without its own delivery crew, I think. Not my business.

Mur greeted them warmly, taking point in the conversation while I stood there like the hired muscle with the box. The clients were very glad to see us, mostly because that meant less waiting in all this wind. The bus shelter didn’t do much to hold it back.

“Thank you for being prompt!” said the bigger of the two Strongarms as she signed the payment tablet. Her coloring was off-white with patches of yellow, which reminded me of a popcorn-flavored jellybean. The other popcorn squid was a little smaller, but had the same coloration. Probably related, but what did I know?

“Our pleasure,” Mur said as he took the tablet back and they pulled out a small hover platform to carry the package. “The less time spent in this desiccating wind, the better.”

They agreed heartily. I placed the box on the platform and helped the small client strap it in place while the big one explained that they had one more delivery to wait for.

“Unfortunately, that ship has been delayed,” she said. “Which would have been good to know before we got out here, but that’s the twist of the current for you.”

The smaller one piped up in a voice that sounded young. “I’ll say. I ran out of moisturizer with one arm to go — I would have dug up more from storage if I’d known we were going to be out here all day.”

The big one was visibly worried, already tugging at the small one’s tentacles. “Where aren’t you covered? How bad is it? Let me see!”

Mur made sympathetic noises while I mentally went over what I knew of Strongarm physiology. The previous courier ship I’d worked on had kept the air at a higher moisture level than the current one, largely for their benefit. Mur had told me about the lotion they all wore in dry air. I’d honestly forgotten about it.

And it appeared to be a big deal. The one yellow-white tentacle that the small Strongarm had been holding curled close looked dry and stiff even from where I was standing. She winced as she uncurled it. Her mother (yeah, I’m assuming) rushed to dig through the bag for a bottle of water, which she rubbed into place with visible worry.

The young one watched her fuss over it. “I’ll be fine; it’s just a little dry.”

“It’s a lot dry! Why didn’t you say something? And I didn’t bring any moisturizer either, because this was supposed to be a short trip. Oh, and this port doesn’t have a shop!”

Mur winced. “Yeah, this place is mostly Heatseekers and Mesmers, isn’t it? They probably wouldn’t even stock the good stuff.”

“Or any stuff,” the older client agreed. Another gust of wind spun in from a new direction, as if it was determined to make things worse. I licked dry lips while the client fretted.

I had an idea.

“Hey, I don’t know if this works, but do you want my chapstick?” I offered, pulling the tube from my pocket and removing the cap. I swiped some on the back of my hand to demonstrate. “It’s made to keep human lips from drying out, but it might work for you. Assuming you’re not allergic. It has like three ingredients, mostly wax.”

The big Strongarm was already reaching for it, spilling gratitude. She inspected it quickly, picking up the cap with another tentacle while she read the ingredients. “Beeswax, coconut oil… What is coconut? And almond?”

“Plants from my planet,” I said. “Seeds, kind of? Though the coconut is really big and kind of like a fruit with a shell. I don’t know what it really counts as. At any rate, it’s not toxic for me, though that doesn’t mean much.”

She turned it further. “There’s a species-safe diagram here, though it’s very small. I think that’s a dot in the Strongarm corner. Do you remember which is where?” She looked up at Mur.

“Lemme see.” He studied it for a moment while the wind gusted around us and the smaller Strongarm curled her tentacle under her. “Yes, that’s the right corner! Good news.”

“Excellent! Thank you!” The client snatched the tube and instructed the young one to hold out the vulnerable tentacle.

It took a while to cover the whole thing in chapstick, but the elder was determined, and the youngster was patient. Also more than a little embarrassed if I was reading the body language right, but I couldn’t blame her for that.

“Done!” the elder announced. “Did I miss anything? Are there any other spots that feel dry?”

“No, it’s fine.” The youngster pulled her tentacle back. “Feels weird.”

“Yeah,” I agreed with sympathy. “The wax is more noticeable than a good moisturizing lotion would be. But I hope it helps!”

The elder put the cap back on and moved to return it to me, but I told her she could keep it. They needed it more than I did. Plus it had tentacle-alien cooties all over it now, which I’d feel weird about using on my own mouth, but I didn’t say that.

“Honestly, it’s my least favorite flavor,” I said instead. “I got that one in a multipack. I’ll just get a better one later.”

She thanked me again and badgered the younger one into holding the tube, with instructions to reapply it the moment her skin started feeling dry again. The youngster insisted she was fine. The adult had clearly heard that before.

“Well,” Mur said. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you! May the wind torment you as little as possible.”

“We appreciate that,” the client said. “Do all humans carry these? I’ve seen human-run shops before, and never thought to look for moisturizing agent there.”

“Most of us probably don’t have chapstick on hand all the time, but it’s a good thing to have available. And humans do use skin moisturizer too! It’s probably not the same grade as the kind you’re used to, but if you’re in a tight spot in the future with a human-run store nearby, you can probably find something there.”

“That is very good to know,” she said. “Thank you again!”

We said our goodbyes and headed back out into the brunt of the wind. I could swear it was trying to unbraid my hair one strand at a time.

“Morbid curiosity,” Mur announced as we walked, “But what flavor do you prefer for lining your mouth with? Knowing humans, it’s probably gross.”

I had to smile. “I like the minty ones, which isn’t that weird. Or cherry. Though there was a cinnamon one I found once that I’d like to get again. It looked more like lipstick, which isn’t really what I’m going for, but it smelled good.”

“Hm,” Mur said. “And what was this one? Plant flavor?”

“It was mostly just beeswax. Not that great.”

“What kind of wax is ‘beez wax’?”

“Oh!” I lit up. “I told you about honey, right? The sweet stuff made by bugs?”

“Yeeeees,” he said with suspicion. “Your food additive that’s full of insect spit. Don’t tell me this is the same concept.”

“It’s what they make their hives with!” I told him. “I don’t think there’s as much spit involved. I looked it up once, and the wax seeps out of these pores on their sides, making little scales, then if enough of them flap their wings to raise the temperature to soften it, they can shape it into the little cells to lay eggs and store honey in. But not at the same time. And yeah, they probably do that with their mouths, so there might be some spit involved.”

Mur’s squid face was contorted into an expression of spectacular disgust. “And you put that on your mouth,” he said.

“Yup!” I brushed hair back from my face. “Probably good the client only asked about the other ingredients.”

Mur walked faster. “I hope they don’t find out until we are far out of range.”

“It’s not that gross!”

“You said that about honey too.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[winniethewife]

I laugh like me again, she laughs like you (Moon Knight System x F!reader)

Warnings: Presumed!dead character, Reader romantically involved with Jake, Marc and Steven are featured, Mother!reader, Single mom, Angst,

Words: 634

She would never expected to have to do this alone. Just as she thought she wouldn’t do many other things alone. Witnessing her Daughters first steps, Her daughters first doctors appointment, the first time she got really sick, the first time she made a friend, her first move, all the way to London. She wasn’t expecting to be alone for her child’s first…everything. And now as she drives down the street she looks at the little girl with dark curls and brown eyes sitting in her booster seat as she looked out the window eagerly.

“Celesia?” She called her daughter’s name and the little girl looked over at her, the gaze in the rearview mirror reminded her so much of the girl’s father.

~

Jake Lockley was a rascal, but he loved her, and for some reason she loved him back. Despite the complications, Despite Marc living his life how he wished, taking her Jake wherever that was, with whoever that was. She had managed to form a friendship with Marc, which didn’t make it any easier, because she started to care a whole lot, a bad habit of hers. At some point they moved in together, a lovely thing to have with Jake, an interesting time with Marc. So when Marc teamed up with Bushman, she had advised against it. It seemed like a really bad idea, it wasn’t that she just wanted to keep Jake with her, it wasn’t the fact that she would have to find another roommate, she was genuinely worried about Marc. So of course when Marc had already been too stubborn and had shipped off, It was time to get a positive pregnancy test, because the universe finds that shit funny.

~

“Yes Mommy?” Her daughter’s voice brought her back to the present.

“You ready for your first day at school?” She asked, trying to sound excited. The little girl nodded enthusiastically, giving her mom two thumbs up. Which she glanced in the mirror. “Remember baby, I can’t look at you when I’m driving so I need you to use your words.” She reminded the eager five year old.

“Right, Sorry Mommy. I am really excited! I can’t wait to make friends and learn things and-” The young girl continued to ramble, causing her mother to smile warmly. So many things reminded her of Jake, and Marc.

~

She sat tears streaming down her face as she read over the letter, all that was found of Marc Spector was some of his belongings in a bloodied temple in egypt, presumed dead, and seeing as everyone else on the expedition was dead that was a good assumption. But she was three months pregnant and currently trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do without her best friend and the father of her baby who, unfortunately in this case, inhabit the same body. She wasn’t sure how the hell she was supposed to do all this alone. Where to even start. But she didn’t have a choice now.

~

The whole day she kept checking her phone during work, just in case she missed a call from the school or a message from Celesia’s teacher, but there was nothing. At the end of the day she rushed to pick her up from school, and then they went to the store after. As the two of them puzzled over which kind of sweets to buy that week, she was surprised when a man ran into her.

“Oh, Sorry! That was entirely my fault there. So sorry.” The voice was too familiar, wrong accent, right voice.

“Jake?” She turned to look at the man, messy head of curls, Dark Brown eyes. The man looked confused. “Marc?’ She asked, maybe too hopeful.

“Sorry, Er I’m Steven, With a V.”

~

Masterlist

Taglist; : @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

A/N: Middle of the night angst? Happens more often than you think.

[freak-accident419]

You Can’t Spell ‘FWB’ without ‘Friend’

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: Ever since the night before, you and Derek had become best friends with benefits. Bored at a fancy rich person party, you two decide to hook up again. However, when you’re inexplicably taken out of the mood, you two decide to do something else for the night: hang out like the best friends you were.

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: 18+ content, MDNI, (graphic descriptions of) sex (awkward), cursing, mentions of drugs, (best) friends with benefits, platonic (but you can interpret it as potentially romantic), short read, reader and Derek are just best pals that fuck, slightly ooc Derek, reader is rich/famous like Derek, attempt to hook up in the bathroom at a party (end up hanging out instead), smoking, drinking, Star Wars references, very chaotic

(A/n: Dedicating this to my wifey @xcherryerim 🫶 your post awaiting this fic meant a lot to me :3)

-

Holy fuck, you wanted to gouge your eyes out.

You had a glass of wine in your hand, staring at the crowd of old, wealthy hags, sipping the drink briefly out of boredom.

You were at yet another fancy party in some rich person’s mansion, accompanied by your best friend Derek, the son of President Jessica Danforth and CEO of Danforth Enterprises. You had been good friends with him for a very long time, the two of you always stirring up trouble whenever together.

You stare down at the deep scarlet of your drink, intensely zoning out as you thought about the night before. A pair of hands caressing the skin on your thighs, legs tightening around hips, wrists held above your head, and loud, sultry moans and sounds filling the room.

And then you snapped out of it as you felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up to see exactly him—Derek.

“This party is ass,” you grumble to him, taking a sip from your drink.

“I know,” he replies, sipping his. “Any luck with finding investors?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I have people doing that for me,” you scoff.

“Right,” he nods.

“Any luck with convincing some poor girl to invest in crypto?” You ask, looking at him as you raise an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he answers with a sigh, but a smile was plastered on his face.

You chuckled at his reply. “Hah. I’m not surprised. Crypto is fucking ridiculous.”

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Hm, you already did. What, once isn’t enough for you?” you retort quickly, sneering.

Derek’s eyes widened in response, frantically looking around to see if anyone heard you, then whispered, “Would—Would you be quiet?” He stressed under his breath. “Don’t say that fucking shit out loud, what if somebody heard?”

Last night didn’t really mean to happen. Like the close friends you were, you hung out with Derek at his mansion as you regularly do. However, one thing led to another because of a bottle of pinot noir and the unfortunate appearance of a sex scene in a movie you two watched together. Accordingly, you woke up sore the next morning. You two had established that it was just hooking up, no strings attached—but nobody could know about your arrangement. Not your friends, not your co-workers, and especially not Derek’s mother. While he was known for being promiscuous, the press couldn’t find out that Derek had hooked up with you, not only a good friend of Derek, but someone who was well known in the media due to their wealth.

You roll your eyes carelessly as flashes from last night began to cloud your mind. His fast breaths, his body, his skilled hands. Yet you shook it off easily. “Oh, come on, Derek, these old, ancient fucks can’t hear shit.” An old woman looked at you in disapproval after hearing you swear, walking away from you. “Okay, well, she heard that, but nobody’s gonna know! Don’t get your fuckin’ Louis Vuitton boxers in a twist.”

“They’re not—” he huffs in annoyance. You weren’t taking this seriously, which ultimately frustrated him; your carelessness reminded him too much of himself. “Y/n, who knows what’ll happen if anyone finds out? Like, you know I have to keep my fucking reputation up, and you do too. I don’t think there’s anything Wallace could do if the press found out we hooked up.”

You pause briefly until a smirk creeps up onto your lips in realization. “You regret it, don’t you?”

“No, of course I don’t regret it,” he answers immediately. Not regretting it was clearly an understatement. He really enjoyed last night, every second, every feeling. So he was slightly confused as to why you even doubted him. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just—” you stutter out, “I woke up and you were gone, you know.” You mutter as you took out a cigarette, placing it into your mouth and lighting it.

His mouth went dry and he pursed his lips promptly. “I had to be at Danforth Enterprises,” he says, watching you exhale the smoke from your cigarette.

“Yeah, well, you could’ve sent me a text or written a note,” you shrug. “Like, it’s your house, dude. I was supposed to be the one leaving the morning after, not you.”

“Right, sorry,” he says simply. “Force of habit.” —It was true; he had an infamous history of one-night stands.

“Plus, I’m your best friend,” you reason. “I don’t want this to, like, ruin everything we had. Like, you’re still my buddy to me.”

He looked at you with a slightly amused grin. “Hey, nothing’s gonna change between us, alright? As you said, you’re my best friend, and it’s always gonna stay that way.” You chuckled, offering him a smile as you heard his response. He could be sentimental whenever he wanted. “Look, the day our friendship will ever change is the day I’ll shut down UDG and Nine Star. Which is basically, like, fucking never. Don’t worry about it.” Even as he said the last sentence, this could be interpreted in two different ways. The first one is that he’d never be in some sort of greater relationship with you, likewise his reluctance to stop scamming. The second one, however, implies that if he ever got into something serious with you, a moral obligation will arise, forcing him to shut down his unethical phishing companies just for you. Right. That sounded ridiculous. It was definitely not the latter.

The two of you both took a sip of your drink in unison.

“But, like,” he began, swirling his glass of wine in his hand engagingly, “Is this gonna be, like, a regular thing?”

You raise an eyebrow curiously after taking a sip of your own. “Like, hooking up?” He nods. “I mean… Whatever happens, happens.”

“Uhh, how do you mean?”

“Like, if it was a one-time thing, so be it. But if it’s gonna become regular, then also so be it,” you took a drag of your cigarette. “Doesn’t really matter. We can just, like, do whatever we want. Nothing has to be all predetermined. If we feel like fucking, then we’ll fuck. If not, then great, another day of walking normally.”

“Right,” he says.

You were bored.

So fucking bored.

You dressed all fancy for nothing, you feel. You were obligated to go the same reason Derek had: your wealthy, famous status. But it was so underwhelming and useless, even. As long as you made an appearance, then that should’ve been enough for everybody.

You put out your cigarette and finish your wine, nearly chugging it.

“Hey,” you tap on Derek’s shoulder, making him turn around to look at you after he had been gazing at a potential crypto girl. “Wanna do a quickie in this rich loser’s bathroom?”

He raises an eyebrow in interest.

***

You were held up against the wall of the bathroom, legs wrapped around Derek’s hips as his hands held you by your thighs, pounding his cock in and out of you at a fairly quick pace. Your hands held onto his arms and your chin rested on his shoulder tiredly as the occasional skin slapping against skin sound echoed in the room, hearing Derek grunt with almost every thrust.

You felt slightly uncomfortable and awkward. Like, you weren’t really aroused. It felt… dry? You didn’t know what you meant by that, but the friction was just… unsatisfying. He was grazing your walls in a way that just made it feel like burning, increasing your discomfort. But at least he looked like he was enjoying this. Good for him, you guessed.

This never happened before, so it was sort of… really weird to you, to say the least.

To be honest, you were kind of bored. Like, really bored. How the hell were you still bored? You temporarily escaped an old rich people party to have rigorous sex in their bathroom with your best friend, but you were still bored.

“Shit…” you mutter, disgruntled, as he moved consistently inside you, the burning sensation catching up with you. “What the fuck? Why does—ow—Why the fuck is this hurting?”

Derek pulls his head away from your shoulder and looks at you in concern, his dick still inside of you. “Are you okay? Should I go slower?” He offers, raising an eyebrow as he searched for hesitance in your eyes, then looking you up and down.

“Yeah, sure, okay,” you nodded. “It’s whatever, just—just keep going,” you dismiss in a low murmur. As he starts again at a slower pace, you still had an uncomfortable expression on your face. He was moving his hips but all you felt was mere irritation.

“Okay, what—what the hell?” You groan as you still felt shitty, resulting in Derek stopping his thrusts.

“What’s the issue? Am I still going fast? Should I slow down more?”

“Yeah, uh, probably, yeah,” you say as your head goes back on his shoulder. He proceeds with his movements, his cock sliding in at an even slower pace, stretching your walls more intricately.

“Is this—is this better?” He asks as he moves patiently, steadily moving in and out of your body.

And it wasn’t even a minute in before you would interrupt again.

“Umm… Actually I,” you begin, sighing, “I’m just—I don’t know, I’m not feeling it.”

Derek slides out, still holding you up against the wall by your thighs and raises an eyebrow, looking into your eyes. “Seriously?”

You nod simply.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” He asks, unsure if it was something on his part.

“I don’t know, I’m just not really feeling it,” you reply awkwardly.

“Weren’t you the one who brought it up—”

“I’m not feeling it anymore, dude, I’m sorry!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in surrender.

He puts you down as you put your clothing back on. As you slip your underwear back on, you look at him standing by the same spot by the wall. “Are you still hard?” You ask, raising an eyebrow insightfully.

“Yup,” he shrugs shamelessly.

You sort of felt bad, since you were the one who had the idea of fucking in the bathroom in the first place, making him all riled up.

You sigh softly and you two look at each other in silence. You let out a quiet huff.

“Want me to jerk you off?”

Soon after his release, he put his boxers and pants on leisurely. You were in front of the mirror, trying to fix your hair and clothing, ensuring that you didn’t just come back from a sexual experience in the bathroom.

“Dude, look at how much expensive perfume these jagoffs own,” you chuckle amusedly, looking down at the bathroom sink counter. On the surface were several perfumes of Armani, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana, as well as a few lotions.

“Hey, don’t—don’t touch those, Y/n.” Too late. You sprayed him with one.

You two grimaced at the scent.

“Well shit, I didn’t even know what I expected,” you cough severely, waving your hand around your nose as you despised the shitty perfume’s smell.

“I told you not to touch them, idiot,” he huffs, buckling his belt as he scowled at the odor.

“Don’t be a dickwad, you totally would’ve been curious enough to try them too,” you scoff, looking through the cabinets of the bathroom mirror and sinks. “Hey, look,” you smirk, throwing a small object at him that you had found.

He caught it involuntarily with his hands and inspected the item: it was a bottle of Viagra. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you and laughed softly. “I am not surprised that these old fucks can’t get it on,” he threw it back at you and you shelved it back in its original place.

You watch him take a hit from his vape and you sigh from boredom. You didn’t want to be in this bathroom any longer, but you definitely didn’t want to be out in the party either.

“Dude, I’m bored,” you whine as he handed you his vape pen.

“‘Sup Bored, I am Derek,” he muttered sarcastically, under his breath. You rolled your eyes and handed him back his vape once you were done with it.

“Can you—can you not?” you mumble exasperatedly in response as he just raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, making his way towards the door, “We’re getting out of here, you can ride with me.”

“Hold on,” you interject quickly. “We should—I mean—I should probably wait a few minutes after you leave the bathroom to get out. You know, so no one will suspect us if we were to, like, walk out of the bathroom together.”

“Right. Yeah. Yeah, you have a point,” he nods.

You had to be careful from now on, realizing that just through the mere plan of leaving the bathroom alternately. This meant you had to be more delicate and thoughtful with every action and word that came from you—and Derek’s—to keep this messy secret.

***

You were laid on the bed beside Derek, one hand tangled in his hair and the other holding an ice cream cone as the bright colors of the TV in front of you nearly blinded your eyes. Your arm was propped up behind Derek’s head in order to play with his hair, feeling the soft curls brushing your palm and fingertips. The two of you looked intensely at the screen as you ate your ice cream in one hand, which was graciously prepared by Derek’s personal chef.

“Dude, Jar Jar Binks was definitely a Sith Lord,” you blurt in a low mutter. Derek turns his head and looks at you in befuddlement.

“What? No. Y/n, no, no, no, do not get started on this again—”

“I’m just saying, dude, that whole ‘goofy idiot’ appearance was hiding the fact that he was a powerful Sith Lord!” You exclaim passionately. “Have you seen his fighting style?”

“Yes, I’ve seen his fighting style, and it looks as if he’s chugged twenty fuckin’ martinis, then atrociously became crossfaded through several, reckless bong rips,” he replied straightforwardly.

You pause briefly as you realized. “Derek, I swear, if that was a reference to that one hangover I had back in December, I swear fucking to god—”

He met you with silence.

You nearly whisper, “Was it?”

The smirk that rose onto his lips told you everything, and you playfully smacked the top of his head since your hand was already there before, tangled in his hair. “Ow,” he muttered, yet his smirk never ceasing. “Look, all I’m saying is that I respect you for that. You are, like, the craziest person I know in the best fucking way possible.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess,” you mumble, fighting the inevitable curl of your lips that formed a flattered, soft grin. “Okay, anyways, all I’m saying, is that not only was it a tactic to trick his opponents, but he could’ve also been using the force! And how many times has he avoided death?”

“Okay, Y/n, that’s enough, lay off the grass,” he jokes, letting out a low snicker. “How is Jar Jar even relevant? We—we aren’t even watching the prequels, isn’t this The Empire Strikes Back?”

“No, I’m pretty sure we’re watching Return of the Jedi,” you say confidently.

“No, this is—this is definitely Empire Strikes Back,” he refutes, then pauses. “Did we seriously forget?”

“Well, there’s a billion of movies in this franchise, so we’re bound to mix up its titles. Hm, well, it can’t be The Empire Strikes Back, because Return of the Jedi is the one with that sexy Leia outfit,” you reason, shrugging. Derek raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay, you know what, this isn’t even the point, the point is, that Jar Jar is relevant because it’s fuckin’ Star Wars!”

“Whatever,” Derek rolls his eyes with an amused grin that swiftly transitioned into a mischievous smirk. “You look like Jar Jar,” he mumbles.

You let out a playful, offended gasp. “Oh yeah? You look like Jabba the Hut.”

His head turned directly towards you and let out a exaggerated gasp as well. “Fuck you, you look like Yoda!”

“And you look like that fucking gremlin-looking piece of shit that’s Jabba’s pet!”

“Yeah, well, you look like—”

This continued a little longer until the both of you got too tired, unable to think of any more ugly Star Wars characters to compare each other to—which then resulted in a peaceful truce.

Your fingers proceeded to play with Derek’s curls as you took a bite of your ice cream, then letting your head rest on his shoulder. With this action, however, you suddenly thought about the night before and how things had led up to that event.

“Hey, are there any sex scenes in this?” You ask quietly, feeling his short strands of hair tangle loosely around your fingers.

He scoffs with a slight grin. “It’s a fucking Star Wars movie.”

You two burst out laughing. “Right, right, that’s—you have a point,” you giggle, catching your breath. “Oh, thank god, then.”

“Why? Are you that against having a repeat of last night?” He accuses, attempting to sound more playful, rather than the genuine concern that he felt.

“No, it’s just—” You struggled to think about how you wanted to word it. “I really like this. You know? I’m too tired, I’m very comfy, I…” You nuzzled further into his neck as your head rested on his shoulder. “This is nice. I like this.”

He smiles warmly to himself. “I like this too.”

The rest of the night was quite tame. You finished your ice cream before you finished the movie. Except, you didn’t really finish the movie entirely, because you two fell asleep in each other’s arms in the middle of it. Yet seen through your easy laughter and smiles, you were reassured indubitably: nothing was ever going to change between the two of you.

[illya-roma]

DP X DC PROMPT- (Fic that I'd totally probably might write)

Jason had learned from being a Robin to being Red Hood to expect a lot of things, from fighting the deranged to expecting the unexpected like daina (WONDER WOMAN!) being mind controlled.

But he never expected this.

He usually doesn't come here to begin, not after- after it happened, but he does each time whenever the pits wants to remind hims of what he could have lost. (What he lost, how it hurt hurt hurt. How HE hurt them. He knows that even if they forgive him, they'll never trust him again. The pit laughs from behind)

But tonight, in front of him sat someone?something? what appears to be a teenager from 14 to 16, with red hair that flickers similar to a flame and skin too pale and ears too pointy.

But it?she? sat on one of the headstone with her eyes glazed, too deep in her own thoughts.

A series of bubbles cut her off. She proceeded to put the baby (that seemed completely human) on her shoulder and allowed him to burb. Then cocooned him in blankets and hummed him to sleep.

Right now, he isn't red hood (or Robin). And his gun may not affect her, that is if the child belongs to someone else. (Did the parents give them to her? Or is she related? Have any alarms of a breakout occur that a meta? experiments? escape?).

(He sounds like Bruce.)

"A penny for your thoughts?"

The girl had her eyes on the child, with a small sad smile and flickers of flaming hair. "Just..."

"Just wondering what my grave would have looked like."

He sucked a breath.

"That ones yours...right?"

The girl (child ghost holy fuck!) nodded her head to his own grave. "Y-yeah...it's mine."

"It's beautiful... And well cleaned...They must've cared a lot, mister Jason."

He never thought about that. A well taken grave describes a caring family wouldn't it? (They do care! How is it still clean though?)

"Yeah...but uh...um...What's up with the..the baby?" Is the baby alive?

"Oh...Noone will take care of my baby boy... So.. I had to come back..."

She pushed back a few strands of black hair with tender eyes and the lightest touch. As if he where the most fragile crystle.

Jason could see himself in the child. All loved to the point his own mother would give up everything just for him. Except it was Bruce, it was Bruce that took him in and loved him. Standing beside his bed during nightmares when he cried and taking away the monsters. Sitting with Alfred, cooking together and exchanging stories.

(His family loved him. His family loves him.)

"Would you like to fly with me?"

Robin made me magic

He keeps wiping his face while she put the baby in a safer position. "We can have a brawl for fun after I put little Danny in his bed a-" she stopped mid scentence when looking at him

He sputtered. " Is something wrong?"

With fear in her eyes she floated, creating distance between both of them. She shaked her head in disbelief.

"You...you died..."

He took a step farther, not wanting to scare them away.

"But..b-but your... nononono why do you look like that?!"

He wanted to ask like what, but she disappeared before his eyes. (Did she know he wasn't safe? That he hurt his family?)

...

Beep

"Hey Jaylad, is the pit be-

"B-Bruce"

"Jason, what's wrong? Are yo- what happend?"

"I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry, I'm sorry! Dad I'm sor-"

"I'm coming, hang in there."

"Little Wing what's wrong?"

"Todd, who hurt you? Who should I kill?"

"Jason, back ups close. Breath with me, alright!"

(His family loves him)

(The pits were silenced)

_______________________________________

In an alternative universe the Fenton are still driving around and setting up traps, unfortunately Jazz is the one who removes them and got caught.

Since jazz is the one that doesn't wear hazmats and dany is still a baby (she makes sure is far from their experiments with ectoplasm), she becomes a ghost who decides that she doesn't want Danny to get hurt and takes him somewhere near a lot of ectoplasm.

Gotham: sweet baby girl, little baby harley.

Let the drama begin.

Chapter 2

[roanofarcc]

BABYDOLL: CHAPTER ONE. STORM BREAK

jj maybank x fem!routledge OC // read on Ao3

The Routledge twins didn’t share much in common aside from their namesake and their shit-luck. John. B took after their missing father while Charlotte was told she was a spitting image of her runaway mother. However, an affinity for curiosity, secrets, and treasure hunting seemed to run in the family.

word count. 3.5k || masterlist

next chapter

Season One. 

If there was one thing the rich folks of Kildare Island liked more than day drinking, it was having literally anyone else look after their kid. They didn’t care if that person was an underpaid lifeguard trying to enjoy their lunch break. 

“This is so stupid!” A young girl cried from inside a bathroom stall. 

Lottie Routledge pulled a towel closer around her shoulders in an attempt to combat the building's air conditioning. She wreaked of sunscreen and chlorine, but the country club locker rooms were overwhelmed with lemon-scented cleaner. The shiny white tiles and glittering fixtures seemed to laugh at Lottie every time she entered, reminding her that even rich people’s bathrooms were nicer than anything she’d ever owned. 

“It is stupid,” Lottie replied. “But it’s an unfortunate side-effect of womanhood.” 

The young girl was quiet for several moments before she emerged from the stall dressed in her swimsuit and the pair of shorts Lottie had worn to work that morning. They were a little big on the pre-teen, but they were better than anything else she could have offered. 

“I can never show my face here again.” 

Lottie bit back a laugh, amused as the dramatics. “Wheezie, I don’t think anyone even noticed besides me.” 

The youngest daughter of the Cameron family let out air from her cheeks, which were tinted red from the run and from the embarrassment of getting surprised with her period at the pool. 

Wheezie came to the pool often, always dropped off by her brother who then disappeared to play golf with his fellow douchy rich-kid friends, her mom who then joined the other young wives at the bar for mimosas, or her sister who then vanished to do whatever Sarah Cameron spent her summer afternoons doing. Wheezie was one of the better kids who Lottie watched during her lifeguarding shifts. She followed the rules and liked to make small shit-chat with Lottie on slower days. Which was why she didn’t hesitate to flag down the girl before she stepped into the pool. 

“It’s still embarrassing.” The kid dramatically fell onto one of the benches. An odd look crossed her face before she reached into the back pocket of her shorts and pulled something out. A joint was pinched between her fingers and Lottie was suddenly mortified. 

She must have forgotten to take it out after her latest smoking session on the beach was cut short by a rowdy group of Kooks who were trying to act like they owned the place. The joint was unsmoked so she pocketed it for next time but forgot to take it out before she crashed for the night. 

Lottie snatched it from Wheezie and shoved it in her duffle bag. 

“Was that a weed?” Wheezie asked, innocently. 

“No.” A weird beat of silence passed between them before Lottie switched gears. “Is your sister coming to get you or what?” 

With a nod, Wheezie glanced at her phone. “She’s here. I told her I was hiding in the locker room.” 

Less than a minute later, Sarah Cameron entered with a certain “kook-ness” to her that made Lottie want to both make herself smaller and be mean. It was a confusing set of emotions that came with the rich folks on the Island. Lottie loved to hate them but was too scared to hate them too loudly. 

Sarah Cameron was a pretty blonde, sun-kissed, and glossy-lipped. She was the definition of the perfect Kook party girl, with all of the money and notoriety to never have to worry about anything in her life. It sounded like jealousy, partially because it was. Lottie was a lot of things, including a teenage girl living in the hand-me-downs of her friends and brother. But that wasn’t the only reason she had a distaste for Sarah Cameron. 

The Kook and Lottie’s best friend, Kiara, had a messy history. Kie hated Sarah, and vice-versa. As Kie’s best friend, it was Lottie’s job to also dislike the blonde. But in instances like the one she was in, Lottie tried to save some face. 

“Hey,” she greeted with an awkward wave and tight-lipped smile. 

Sarah gave Lottie a once-over, making her feel even more uncomfortable in her work-issued swimsuit. “Hey,” Sarah replied before turning her attention to her little sister. “What happened? What’s the emergency?” 

Wheezie’s cheeks deepened their red color. “I started by period,” she grumbled through gritted teeth. 

With a gentle sigh, Sarah patted her sister’s back. “Come on, I’ll have Topper take us to get some ice cream, okay?” She gestured toward the exit, but Wheezie didn’t get up. 

“No way! I can’t go out there, not until I know no one will see me.” 

“It’s not a big deal-” Sarah started but was swiftly cut off. 

“That’s what she said too, but you’re both liars!” 

Lottie’s alarm rang on her phone, telling her she needed to return to work and yelling at sticky-fingered children trying to drown each other in the pool. She had spent her whole lunch break with Wheezie and abandoned her food in the kitchen fridge. 

“How about I go check and make sure the coast is clear?” she suggested, earning a nod from Wheezie. Lottie stuck her head out of the door, looking both ways up and down the hall for any sign of the country club patrons, but especially Wheezie’s little group of friends. No one was around, considering they had just started serving lunch at the club and most people were probably enjoying a meal worth two of Lottie’s paychecks. 

Reentering the locker room, she reported the good news to Wheezie, who quickly gathered her things and beelined for the door. 

Sarah lingered behind for a moment, looking around awkwardly at the empty room like it was suddenly super interesting. “Thanks for helping her,” she said. 

Lottie waved her off with a quick, “Don’t mention it.” 

The sisters left, and Lottie dragged herself back to the lifeguard stand. A striped umbrella provided shade from the sun, but the summer heat baked her skin. Her whistle rested between her lips, ready to be blown at the first kid who took off running on the slippery concrete or to break up a game of chicken that got too rowdy. 

The rest of her shift took its sweet time getting over, but once it finally did, she boarded her bike, somewhat regretting giving Wheezie her only pair of shorts. But she sucked it up and cruised down the streets of Kildare until the glittering mansions morphed into run-down little homes. The magic of Figure Eight faded into the Cut, the side of the island that homed herself and her friends. It was nowhere near as grand as the rich side, but to Lottie, it was much more comforting. Figure Eight was stuffy, plastic, and clean-cut. The Cut was the opposite. 

Her house, affectionately referred to as the Chateau, housed her and her twin brother. It was by no means perfect, but it was her home. The place always smelled faintly of weed covered up by air freshener and the ghost of their dad’s cologne and their mom’s cinnamon potpourri that only Lottie ever replaced. There was a hole in the roof that leaked every time it rained and the window in her bedroom had a broken lock. There was a comfort to it that she felt like no mansion could replicate. 

The only thing it lacked was the presence of their missing dad and their runaway mom. To make up for it, Lottie and John B. filled the void with their friends, who were there almost every night. 

“Ah, there she is!” Lottie was greeted by a booming voice when she pulled up to the Chateau. Dropping her bike on the grass, she hurried over to her brother and friends all gathered around a small campfire, snacking on pizza and sipping on beers. 

She took the seat next to JJ Maybank, who smiled wide as he slung an arm around her shoulder. “Anyone drown at work today?” he asked. 

Shoving him lightly, Lottie shook her head. He dropped his arm but not his smile, passing her a beer from the cooler he had his feet propped up on. 

Out of their little group, JJ had been in her and her brother’s lives the longest. They met him in third grade, and the three became inseparable. They were too intertwined in each other lives to ever leave it at that point, not that Lottie wanted that anyway. 

John B. clapped from across the fire. “Wow, way to do your job, Lot. Gotta keep those Kooks safe, right?” She threw her beer bottle cap at him, but he jerked to the side and it landed in the grass. He stuck his tongue out at her, and she returned the gesture. 

Despite being twins, they didn’t look too much alike. John B.'s dark brown eyes and dirty blond hair contrasted with Lottie's light blue eyes and dark brunette waves. They also functioned differently. John B. was more laid back, resting in the weeds kind of person while Lottie needed a clear cut path to figure out where she was going. It didn’t matter how unalike they looked or acted, the twins were known around the island thanks to their dad’s disappearance at sea nine months prior. 

Their dad was declared to be dead after three months of searching turned up nothing, but John B. had refused to sign off on it. He said he wouldn’t believe anything without a body, and since he didn’t sign, Lottie didn’t either. Did she think her dad was still alive out there? No. Did she want to believe her brother was right? Of course she did. John B. was hopeful and relentless, but Lottie was doubtful and complaisant. 

“And how did you assholes spend your afternoon?” Lottie asked, snagging a slice of pizza to cure her hunger since missing her lunch break. 

“We snuck into an unfinished Kook house. Real sweet place,” said JJ. 

Kiara scoffed loudly and Lottie could tell in the dim light of the fire that she was fired up. “Sweet? It was the definition of unnecessary! No one needs that many bathrooms with fancy toilets. No one. And don’t even get me started on how they built those houses where a turtle sanctuary was.” 

“Seriously, don’t get her started,” John B. cut in with a smirk on his lips. “That’s all she talked about while we were there.” 

Kie narrowed her gaze at John B. slightly offended and still clearly angry about the new housing developments happening on the island, which she had been bad-mouthing since before they even began. Lottie didn’t disagree with her. The less rich people who moved there and bought up plots along the beach, the better off she thought Kildare would be.

“Yeah, because it’s ridiculous!” Kie said. 

Pope jumped in before John B. could poke Kie even more, teasing her into a full-fledged argument. “We weren’t there long, though,” he said. “Security showed up and chased us off. We made a clean getaway in the Twinkie, though.” 

The group always sought out trouble; it was like they were unable to avoid it. And it was contagious because every time Lottie was with them, she fell right into their slightly reckless habits like breaking into unoccupied and unfinished homes despite being run out of there more than once. What they had wasn’t the Kooks' kind of invincibility, cushioned by money that allowed them to do whatever the hell they wanted without consequence. What the Pogues had was pure adrenaline and bad decision-making. The only thing they had to fall back on was each other. 

“You’re lucky they didn’t arrest your asses,” Lottie said with a shake of her head. 

JJ nudged her arm with his shoulder, grinning in the orange glow. “They couldn’t catch us, even if they tried.” 

➤

The last thing Lottie wanted to do was spend her morning at the DCS office. The place held an uncomfortable energy and a fake sense of security that made her chew on her fingernails. Across the desk sat a woman in a nice suit and much too official for Lottie’s liking. 

Despite knowing, realistically, someone would figure out she and John B. were living without an adult since their dad disappeared, she prayed for some kind of oversight. She thought maybe they’d overlook them and not catch their mistake until they turned eighteen and were free to continue living without adult supervision. They were managing just fine on their own with each other. 

“It’s come to our attention that the two of you are unemancipated minors living on your own,” the woman said, flickering her gaze between the twins. 

On their way over, John B. it was best to lie and pretend like their uncle had been watching them the entire time. The people from DCS weren’t idiots but she supposed they didn’t necessarily have proof of their lie, that was until they decided to come around their house and see that their uncle was very much not in the picture whatsoever. 

John B. pursed his lips, something he did right before lying. “No. We’re definitely not.” 

The woman sighed softly, waiting for an answer from Lottie with the clear hope that she wouldn’t lie to her face. But Lottie shook her head in agreeance with her brother. 

“I need honesty to help the both of you.” 

“We are being honest,” said John B. 

“Okay.” The woman glanced down at the file opened on her desk. Lottie wondered what it said about them in there. What kind of information did they have on them? “Then when was the last time you spoke to your uncle?” 

John B. pretended to think, glancing at his watch. “Thirty-four minutes ago.” 

“And the last time you saw him?” 

That time, Lottie answered, “Two hours and forty-three minutes.” 

The woman was quiet for a moment, closing the file with another sigh. She had a gaze of disapproval and pity in her eyes like a disappointed mother. From the photos that littered her desk, Lottie presumed she was a mother. Or maybe they were photos of kids she saved from shitty situations. Their life wasn’t perfect without their parents around, but they were well-off all things considered. Lottie was certain they’d continue to be fine; way better than they’d be in some group home on the mainland. 

“We’re going to come out there tomorrow and talk to your uncle. If he’s not there, we’re going to move forward with foster care.” Lottie grimaced, not so subtly. “I want to assure you both that we are going to find you a safe and loving home.” 

Lottie called bullshit, and so did John B. but they didn’t say anything else until they were out of the building. Off in the distance, storm clouds loomed, matching their frustration. 

“This so stupid,” John B. groaned, running a hand down the length of his face. 

Every time she thought about the possibility they’d be put in foster care, her stomach ached painfully. Once DCS started sniffing around their rouse of being taken care of by their uncle, she dreamed of her life in the Cut being pulled out from under her. That’s why she started biting her nails again, a bad habit she thought she kicked years ago. 

“What if they split us up?” Lottie asked, her voice small. Leaving her home, leaving the island, was one thing, but she had never been without her brother. Since they were born, she and John B. did everything together. They were the only family they had left. And they didn’t always see eye to eye, but they looked out for each other no matter what. If they split them up and Lottie lost that, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. 

He looked startled like he hadn’t even thought of that as a real possibility, but he steeled himself quickly. “No way,” he said. “They’re not taking us anywhere and they’re not splitting us up.” She wasn’t sure it was as easy as that, but she didn’t want to ponder the other “what ifs.” And it made her feel a little less doomed, even though they had no real plan on how to avoid DCS. There wasn’t a chance in hell that their uncle would magically show up tomorrow. They’d be caught in their lie, that was almost certain. The only thing that could buy them some more time lied within the encroaching clouds that blew in from the coast. 

➤

“Those are un-surfable waves, dude!” Pope shouted above the claps of thunder that echoed for miles. Impressive waves pounded the shore, aggressive and as dreary as the gray skies overhead. Rain poured in buckets over their heads, soaking them to the bone before they even stepped foot in the ocean. 

The beach was lined with signs saying it was closed, but no one was around to monitor whoever was insane enough to venture to the beach in the middle of a hurricane. Agatha was on a war path, but the worst wasn’t supposed to hit until later that night, leaving plenty of time to catch some waves before they grew too intense to surf or too calm in the storm’s aftermath. 

Lottie hiked her surfboard up as it started to slip from her grasp. The waves were much larger than usual, but they didn’t look un-surfable, yet. Besides, they had surfed plenty of storms before, and if DCS was ready to take her away from the ocean, from her home, she at least had to get out one last time. 

They had postponed coming to their house to speak to their uncle, who hadn’t been around in months, because of the hurricane. It only bought them a little bit of time, a day or two max. The island knew how to bounce back from a storm, their livelihood depended on it. Even when the Cut’s power was the very last to be fixed, they were crafty and hardworking people who knew just how to get by. If hurricane Agatha was their last hurrah, Lottie was going to spend it doing something she loved. 

“Says who?” John B. said before taking off toward the water. Lottie followed, excitement fluttering inside her stomach as another shot of thunder rattled. Pope cursed something under his breath before he ran after them right into the angry ocean. 

Splashing into the cool water, Lottie braced for the intensity of the current. Harsh waves sprayed her face with salt water and rose goosebumps along her arms. The three of them paddled out a ways before they took turns catching the beautiful and daunting waves. 

Between the hurricane winds and needle-like rainfall, staying on the board for too long was impossible, but each time Lottie wiped out, she relished the feeling of kicking her way to the surface before breaking the water with a bubble of laughter erupting from her throat.  

She had never been scared of the water; that wasn’t a fear most people who grew up on the island had. The ocean felt like a second home to her; it was where she felt the most thrilled and most at peace. Their dad had taught them to swim when they were very young, tossing them into the water and telling them to keep their head above the waves. Since then, Lottie couldn’t stay away. She was a damn good swimmer, which landed her a job at the Island Club as a lifeguard. And that was why she had no fear riding the waves Agatha sent her way. 

Crawling back up onto her board, she sent Pope a wink, who returned it with a nervous shake of his head. The storm was growing more intense by the minute, and they’d be stupid to stay out there too much longer. Plus, she didn’t want Pope to have a panic attack out there. He had only caught one wave and spent the rest of the time watching her and John B., making sure no one died. 

John B. seemed ready to go as well. He sat on his board a little way away from them, looking at something off in the distant water. Lottie cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “John! Let’s turn in for tonight. I’m starving!” 

He turned around at the sound of her voice, brows furrowed. “Did you guys see that?” 

“See what?” asked Pope.

“A boat. Someone’s in a boat out there.” 

Lottie strained her eyes to look out further into the water, but all she saw was growing waves. “Please, no one’s stupid enough to take their boat out in the middle of a hurricane.” 

“Says the one who suggested surfing during one,” Pope retorted. Lottie rolled her eyes and started to paddle back towards shore, Pope hot on her heels and eager to be back on dry-ish land. John B. wasn’t far behind, forgetting about the supposed boat he saw. 

On shore, the sand whipped around, and the trees swayed, bending in the wind and testing their luck. Oddly, that was how Lottie felt, like a tree in a hurricane, trying to stay upright. She certainly wasn’t the luckiest, but she hoped the next couple of ways didn’t break her too harshly. All she wanted to do was stay there, with her friends, for as long as the universe would let her. 

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Book Thoughts: Ellen and Oscar

Re-reading RWRB and thinking about Oscar and Ellen. The thing is book Ellen and Oscar's relationship scares me because it's like the worst-case scenario of my own parents (they're a lot better now but covid was hell) So I understand it.

Ellen and Oscar are soulmates. As in they are both intelligent, stubborn and headstrong. They are very similar people. Unfortunately this is a case where it's like forcefully pushing two North ends of a magnet together: Ellen in particular wants and needs a complimentary relationship instead of collaborative relationship, which is why Leo works for her: Leo is meek compared to Oscar. He really just listens and generally agrees with Ellen. His appearances are limited in the book but when he does show up he doesn't really have his own opinion. Ellen wants/needs someone who won't speak up against her.

Honestly? I, kinda feel sad for Oscar. He said it himself, "We're both too fucking proud. But God, that woman. Your mother is, without question, the love of my life. I'll never love anyone else like that." It's sad to know that he never stopped loving Ellen while vice versa isn't true, and to know that she's it for Oscar.

When it comes to parenting I honestly think Oscar is the better parent. It was really shitty of him to leave without telling Alex and June and that evidently really hurt Alex til this day, but when it comes to the other parent things? I was re-reading/listening to Chapter Four today when he goes to DC for Christmas, and both Alex and June are so much more comfortable with him. Part of that is probably because he doesn't carry the inherent pressure of being the fucking president, but part of it is that he really cares about his kids as they are. Ellen downplays June's passion for journalism and pressures her into a political job that she didn't want at all, while Oscar "raved about June's latest blog post for The Atlantic". Ellen immediately started piling up all the political consequences of firstprince literally minutes after Alex plucked up the courage to come out to her while Oscar gave him relationship advice. This isn't to say Ellen isn't a good mother, she is flawed, as Oscar is, as all parents are. But if we're looking at non-crisis moments, Oscar's actions are more comfortable for his children.

There's a reason June initially wanted to go to California and be close to her dad. Yesterday I talked a little about how I hated how Ellen and Alex treated June at the earlier chapters of the book. Well in the rest of the book it's implied that she has a much closer relationship with Oscar, jumping into his arms when he arrives at the White House, him picking her up and spinning her when they arrive at the lakehouse.

Either way, Ellen and Oscar clash becasue they're too alike, and my opinion is that Ellen tends to fan the flames more, see Christmas dinner where Oscar suggests campaigning with them to help and she immediately shoots it down with "you can't be serious". Anyways, the children suffer the most. And uh, speaking from experience here, that shit never goes away. My parents are still together and are a lot better compared to the past, but I flinch at any sound of argument/angry yelling because of all of their fighting.

And there's this one paragraph in the book: "Even before Alex's parents split, they both had a habit of calling him by the other's last name when he exhibited a particular trait. They still do. When he runs his mouth off to the press, his mom called him into her office and says ' get your shit together Diaz.' When his hard-headedness gets him stuck, his dad texts him, 'Let it go, Claremont'" and God that's so shitty? To know, to be reminded that one parent hates the part of you that is from the other parent. Even if that's not what Ellen and Oscar's intention is, that's what it feels like, and it's really, fucking, shitty.

I wonder how would book Alex feel if he know that there was an alternative universe out there where his family was functional. I wonder how would he feel if he knew that movie Alex doesn't have his loving sister, but has loving, gentle parents who have a healthy, functional relationship.

My guess, is that he would say that he'd choose his life and his sister no matter what, and he means it because he does love June, but deep down a part of him would be jealous of movie Alex for having a smaller but healthier and happier family.

[zoeysdamn]

Bloodied petals - Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.6

Summary: It’s time for you to disclose the truth about your condition to Principal Weems…and Xavier. But how much of that are you willing to share? Parents’ week-end brings a surprising new meeting. 

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, swearing; mention of cancer and incurable diseases. 

A/N: it almost has fluff parts if you squint. Also there’s a lot of dialogues in there fsjbfhbs

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4] [Part.5]

Silence weighed heavy in the small hospital room. No one uttered a word, waiting for the other to speak first. Unfortunately for you, Principal Weems had a lot less patience than you. 

Before your stubborn silence she let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine,” she said dryly, “if you don’t want to talk, then I will. Your fellow students found you passed out in the woods, allegedly coughing blood and flowers. We brought you to the ICU, and doctors performed a scan, because heart massages weren’t enough.”

Weem’s words made you gulp slowly, as they reminded you how far the disease had already spread. Although her tone was very serious, the principal couldn’t deny the evident worry in her voice. 

“You almost died, miss L/N,” she said in a softer, yet very much serious voice. “Doctors had to put you under respiratory support for half an hour before you could breathe on your own.” 

A shiver ran down your spine. Shit, this was way, way more concerning that you had thought. The principal seemed to notice the level of distress it put you in, and softened. 

“According to Mr Thorpe, you had experienced a panic attack earlier in the evening, is that true?”

You could only nod slowly, throat tight with emotions. 

“Doctors think it’s what caused momentary heart failure,” she carried on. “But the scan results certainly intrigued them.” 

Your eyes unwillingly glanced down the x-rays on your lap, showing large flowers on the inside of your lungs quite clearly. This time you wouldn’t be able to hide the truth. 

“I’ve managed to convince them it was a very specific condition due to some family history,” she said casually, trying to sound as calm as possible. “Not that it had been easy.” 

“Thank you,” you muttered, still not meeting her gaze. 

The unexpected sound of your voice made her look at least slightly pleased. This was a good start. 

“It’s my job as Nevermore’s Principal,” she said pointedly. “But there’s no need trying to play games with me, miss L/N, and I will not leave this room before I get some answers.”

Ah, there was the accusatory tone again. But you couldn’t tell Weems anything, what if she told everyone the truth? What if Xavier became ridden with guilt? Oh god, what if he shut you out again? 

“I can’t,” you muttered, hands slightly trembling. “I can’t tell you.” 

At your distressed state, Weems’ behavior changed to a mothering one in the blink of an eye and she reached out to put one of her hands on yours. 

“You have to, Y/N,” she said softly but firmly, “according to those scans flowers are growing inside of your lungs, this is very concerning!” 

“I can’t,” you cried, breaking down under the overwhelming emotions rising in your throat, “I can’t tell you, please.”

This time, her tone became more insistent, “I need to know, so I can call your aunt and inform her of the situation.” 

The mention of your aunt made your blood freeze in your veins and you whipped your head so fast you thought your neck would break. Eyes wide open, you stared at Weems like a deer stuck in headlights. 

When Weems called your name worriedly, the shivers that had momentarily stopped rocked your whole body once again. 

“No, no no no no you can’t call my aunt, you can’t!” you whimpered, tears flowing down your cheeks uncontrollably. Nerves wrecked, you were beginning to sound straight up hysteric.  

“She’s your legal guardian, I have to keep her informed,” she insisted, trying to calm you down, but nothing seemed to work. 

You shook your head frantically, “Please,” you begged her, “please don’t tell her, I…you can’t tell her please.” 

The cries turned into pathetic whimpers, until all you could do was to sob quietly, not caring if the Principal of the school were here to witness all of this. You were so tired. 

“She will know eventually,” said Weems softly, trying to not trigger another tearful setback. “She’s your guardian, and we need to tell her what’s going on.” 

Sniffling loudly, you let her words sink into your mind, the raging tempest within gradually calming down. Deep down, you knew that Weems was right. Your aunt was bound to find out one way or another, whether from the principal or yourself. So you whipped your nose and tentatively looked up to the Principal with puffy red eyes. 

“I…I can’t tell you everything…but let me be the one telling my aunt,” you mumbled weakly. “Please…it’ll be easier for everyone…”

For a brief moment, Weems wanted to object to your demand. But the sight of your tear-stained face and pleading eyes refrained her. Seeing one of her usually strongest and most composed students having an heartbreaking emotional breakdown…she just knew she didn’t have to make things more difficult. 

So she pursed her lips, and sighed heavily, “Fine. You can be the one informing your aunt.”

“Thank you,” you whispered faintly. “I…this means a lot to me.”

She sat deeper in her chair, eyeing the x-rays sheets once again, “I suppose you know what’s all about?”

You nodded slowly, and your following silence was enough sign for her to understand you wouldn’t divulge much more about it. “It’s spreading day by day,” you said in a small voice, “this…there’s no cure for this.” 

She could only offer you a sorry look, darkened by the weight of those news. You and Principal Weems hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye, but she had been kind. She wanted to keep Nevermore students safe; and despite her efforts, you were going to die. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, miss L/N,” she muttered quietly. “Is there anything we can do to ease this…cancer?” 

Again, you shook your head. “Not really…I just want all of this to go smoothly, without too much damage…”

She nodded in understanding, raising slowly from her seat, “I see. If there’s anything you need to ease your struggle…do not hesitate to reach me.” 

You let out a small thanks. Just as she was about to open the door, Principal Weems turned to you once more. 

“I’m truly sorry for you, Y/N. I hope all of this will go smoothly for you.” 

Even through blurry eyes, you forced a weak smile on your face, “Thank you ma’am.” 

As soon as Weems exited your room, you let tears fall down your face. God, if you were getting this emotional just by getting a goodbye from the principal, then the evening of the Rave’n had weakened you more than you had thought. 

A soft knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts and you managed to whip away the corner of your eyes just in time before a familiar face stepped into the room. 

“Hey,” greeted Xavier softly. 

“Hey,” you said with a weak smile, heart soaring at his appearance. 

No matter what happened before, you were so relieved to see him. You had almost died the previous night, and you remembered him running to your help before you blacked out. Disease or not, you loved Xavier and he was still your best friend; no matter how awkward things had been between you two the days before. 

Approaching you carefully, he fidgeted nervously with a small bag which made you smile softly. At his awkward hesitation, eyes glancing to the chair next to the bed, you chuckled softly and shifted a little. 

“C’mon don’t play coy,” you breathed out, patting the spot next to you on the bed. “You’re missing the sleepover.” 

The joke made him break into a small laugh, easing the awkward tension and he indulged, sitting on the edge of the bed. He gave the small bag he was holding, unsure of where to begin. 

“Here, it’s for you,” he said, “a get-well soon gift.”

Opening the bag to retrieve what was inside, you smiled softly at the cute pumpkin plushie. At the familiar let long-gone spark of fondness and genuine happiness in your eyes, Xavier felt his heart soar. He had missed this. 

“This is super cute, thank you,” you smiled at him.

“Anytime,” he said before a weird silence took place again. Slightly shifting on his seat, he finally managed to ask you, “How are you feeling?”

As if echoing his question, your whole body whined in pain, “Feeble,” you rasped, “tired. Nothing a good night of sleep won’t fix I guess,” you told him, with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. 

But the deep concerned look on Xavier’s face didn’t fade. “Except it won’t, will it?” 

You casted your eyes down. No need to play dumb any longer; Xavier must’ve suspected something for a long time, but after what happened the night before, there was no need in lying. 

“No it won’t,” you whispered. 

He had probably seen Weems exiting your room with a dreadful expression. Given that and what he had seen in the woods…the image of your sprawled body, chest struggling to rise through the wheezes, the white outfit stained with red paint and blood burned his mind like hot iron. The way your eyes were clouded by the unconsciousness creeping, unable to focus as he had shouted your name, begging you to say something but your mouth unmoving and only drooling droplets of blood…little did the both of you know, this would haunt him for the longest time.

Leaning forward, Xavier took your hand in his. They were bigger than yours and calloused from his hours spent painting. Even if it wasn’t the first time the two of you held hands, it felt highly intimate. 

“How bad?” he asked in a small voice, throat tight with emotion. He couldn’t even look at you, instead focusing on your intertwined hands; he feared that if he did, the tears already gathering at the corner of his eyes would spill. He had to be strong for his best friend. 

“Pretty much shitty bad,” you mumbled. 

“How bad?” he insisted, and you could swear you heard his voice break a little. 

You gulped slowly, close to crying again, “Incurable kind of bad,” you finally managed to breath out after agonizing long seconds of silence. 

Despite his best efforts to keep composure, Xavier choked on a broken sob. Maybe he had been in denial about this the whole time, maybe you were just very good at hiding it; no matter, hearing the truth was like a punch in the gut. Looking up at you with eyes full of tears, he looked completely broken. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered in disbelief. 

Despite the tears tickling your eyes, you tried to smile, “I couldn’t burden you with that, Xav. It’s…this is not an ordinary disease.”

He frowned slightly mouth agape, not quite understanding what it was all about. Picking up the x-ray sheets you silently handed them to him. The crease between his brows only deepened in confusion the more he looked at them, eyes flickering back to you with a silent question, like he didn’t dare to ask. You could only nod slowly, confirming the terrible fate those sheets already predicted. Xavier swore under his breath. 

“Shit, it’s growing in your lungs?”. At your nod he swore again, “That’s why you’ve been coughing flowers…”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, “You noticed?”

“Been picking up some details since the Poe cup, yeah…” he trailed, “but I wish I'd figured things out sooner.” 

You squeezed his hand, the one still gripping yours, “You couldn’t know,” you tried to reassure him. “Even I had a hard time finding out what it is.” 

“Yes I could have known,” he whispered looking deep into your eyes, “you’ve tried to tell me so many times, and I…I was an idiot. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” 

His words made your lips wobble and your eyes fuelling with tears once again. This sight was all it took for him for muttering a “c’me here” and tugging you into a hug. His contact made you break into tears, ugly sobbing on his shoulder. God, you were so not ready to say goodbye to him.

Your hands gripped on his back, like it could allow you to cling onto life a little longer. No matter how much all of this was because of him, you couldn’t wrap your mind around the idea of losing him forever. Xavier had always been your anchor, your best friend through everything no matter who his feelings had been directed to. And now…now you have cornered yourself to the point where even his presence wouldn’t be enough to save you from drowning. 

“I’m scared Xav,” you sobbed against his neck, “I’m so fucking scared of dying.” 

His hand drew soft circles on your back, trying to soothe you the best he could; but also to remind him that you were still here. “I know sweetheart,” he whispered, head buried against yours. 

The truth was he had no idea what to say to you to make you feel better; if you weren’t shaking, you could have felt him trembling too. Tears rolled on his cheeks in silence; he was so scared of losing you too. So he did the only thing he could do for now; he cradled you in his arms, occasionally pressing soft kisses on your hair, hoping this would ease you at least a little bit. In all of his life, Xavier had never felt so helpless. 

As your sobs continued, a part of you started to be plagued with guilt for not telling Xavier what was exactly going on. The perspective of an upcoming death and the inevitable loss it would entail was painful enough, the last thing you wished for was for him to be guilt ridden. 

When you seemed to calm down a little, Xavier swallowed thickly, voice full of tears, “Is there anything we can do?”

Despite the guilt, you shook your head and his heart broke a little more. 

It wasn’t his fault you thought, no one could decide their feelings; the gradual decay of your own body would be dreadful enough for Xavier, there was no need of making him think it was actually his fault. You would take this secret with you in the tomb, that you swore to yourself. 

“I’ve tried to curb it with a potion but it didn’t work,” you admitted weakly. “I thought that weed killer would work.”

His eyes widened, “Weed ki– Y/N that shit’s toxic as fuck!” 

Ashamed, you cast your eyes down, “I just tried to fix this.”

Xavier squeezed your hands, “This isn’t fixing anything, you’ve basically been poisoning yourself!” 

“And what was I supposed to do?” you snapped back, eyes full of tears. “Waiting patiently for this to kill me? Stay here and do nothing? Fuck Xavier, do you have any idea of how painful this is?”

The gradation in your voice’s volume made your body tremble like a leaf. The anger and bitter sadness had risen up so suddenly, you hadn’t noticed your knuckle turning white as you gripped Xavier’s hand tightly. Realizing how much he had upset you Xavier quickly brought you into another hug, whispering apologies and shushing sounds into your ear. The angry bubbling turned into sobs, and soon you ended up whimpering in Xavier’s arms again. 

After a few moments, you sniffled. “Just…can you stay by my side?” you asked with a small voice. “I don’t want to be alone before…before it ends.”

Xavier lifted your chin, making you look up at his glossy hazel eyes. The emotions they held seemed enough to bring a man to his knees. “Of course,” he breathed out softly, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” 

Despite the hot tears starting to flow again a relieved smile stretched your trembling lips. “Thank you,” you whispered, and hugged him again. 

For now, all you wanted was to spend as much time as you could with Xavier. Even if it was only as his best friend, it was already enough for you. The time you had spent together had always been your oxygen, something that got you through the days. It could help to push away the crushing fear of dying long enough. It had to. 

Gently tugging you from the hug, Xavier pressed his forehead against yours, “You’re my girl, remember? There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” 

You tried to smile weakly, “Thank you…”

He kissed your forehead so softly, like you were made of glass. His own selfish behavior from the previous weeks taunted him at the back of his mind, plaguing him with guilt. Why didn’t he pay more attention? Why has he let himself be blinded by some weird fascination for a girl who clearly didn’t give shit about him, while his own best friend was fighting for her life? 

Tightly gripping one of your hands, he almost wanted to cry. He had been such a fool. 

“Hey,” you said, gently tugging his hand to make him look at you, “it’s gonna be okay, alright?”

He shook his head in defeat, “It’s not fair,” he mumbled to try to hide his broken voice, “I wish we had more time.” 

Smiling weakly, you intertwined your fingers together, “We had plenty already. I don’t regret anything.” 

Xavier looked up at you; behind the crestfallen look in your eyes, he knew that you were, among other things, referring to your kiss. 

“But I do,” he said softly. 

Suddenly your heart dropped in your stomach, and for the briefest moment you felt like the world had stopped. Seeing your frozen state, Xavier quickly took your other hand with him in a comforting manner. 

“I regret not having given more time to think about us,” he clarified. 

Eyes widening, you could only gap at him in disbelief. “You thought about us?” you whispered. He nodded. After how the previous discussion about this topic had ended and his rejection after you kissed…you didn’t believe you’ll talk about this ever again. 

“But I thought…you said…”

“Yeah,” he croaked awkwardly, “I know what I said, I’ve been a jerk. And I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you sweetheart, I truly am.” 

Casting your eyes down, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that he hadn’t. He definitely had. 

“I can’t force you to love me that way if you don’t,” you said feebly. One of his hands came to cradle your cheek, turning your face to him once again. 

“But what if I want to?” he said, eyes almost pleading. “What if I want to give it a shot? To give us a chance?” 

This took you off-balance for a second. At first you gasped at his words, then frowned slightly. 

“I don’t want to force your hand on your feelings for a charity case Xavier,” you warned with a trembling voice. “I don’t need pity-feed love, please.”

His eyes widened, “What? No! Y/N I promise, it’s not that,” he assured, softly stroking his thumb over your cheekbone in an attempt of a soothing gesture. “I know the timing isn’t the best, but I promise you that I’m honest with you.” 

Looking at him with big watery eyes, you still quite couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “You really want to try this?” you whispered as he nodded with a faint smile. “But…I mean after we kissed…”

Once again, his own previous actions seemed to embarrass him, “I know, I– I didn’t really think then, I’ve been dumb. But after that I started to…to think about this more and more.” 

“Then why…why did you invite Bianca?” you asked, still dumbfounded. 

“I didn’t want to be the guy playing with your heart,” he said with sad eyes, “not after you had admitted that- that you loved me.” 

Hearing him saying it out loud, for the first time ever, made your heart swell and you couldn’t help but smile softly at him, which made him smile too. 

“I’ve come to realize that, maybe…maybe I could love you too.” 

His words made you frown once again, “I don’t want you to force yourself.”

“I’m not I promise,” he insisted, mentally cursing at himself for his poor choice of words. “I care about you Y/N, a lot. And,” he added with an almost shy smile, “I’ve thought about you as more than a friend before. Often.”

Tears came to your eyes; this time, with joy. “You did?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “I’ve been wondering recently…why I hadn’t let you in that way.” 

That brought an almost sorry look in your eyes. Xavier had the tendency to torture himself – must be his artistic side. No doubt he was giving himself as much hard time as he could about this. 

“What changed your mind about this?” you asked softly, curious. 

Xavier nervously rubbed his neck, “Well, I had the thought hidden at the back of my mind for a long time but…I guess getting a little push helped.”

Your eyebrows rose, “A push?”

He let out an awkward chuckle, “More like life advice laced with threats from Enid, then Wednesday…definitely more threats on her side.”

That made you laugh a little, picturing the scene in your mind. You could definitely imagine them roasting Xavier to politeness’ limits. 

“Bianca spoke to me about this too,” he added. 

“She did?” you asked in surprise, “what did she say?”

“Something along the lines of me being an idiot,” he grinned shyly. A laugh escaped your throat, soon followed by Xavier’s. 

“Yeah that sounds like something she would say,” you agreed between light laughs. “But seriously,” you added more quietly after a few moments of guiltless euphoria, “why now?”

He hesitated, almost looking ashamed of himself. 

“I guess it just started to make sense recently.”

“How so?” you frowned. 

“I think the best friend tag put me in more denial than I thought,” he shrugged. “But ever since you asked me about us, you know, in my room that other night…it kept turning in my mind.”. His eyes bore into yours, burning with heavy remorses and unspoken things, “I… I just don’t know when I could return your feelings.”

Unable to contain your smile, you squeezed the hand that was still holding your face. Xavier had feelings for you; he could love you. All he needed was time to figure out his emotions. Maybe there was hope for you after all. 

Hugging him tightly, you closed your eyes, hopeful tears escaping them. 

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, “I’ll wait for you. I always will.” 

Xavier smiled, and pressed a long, soft kiss to your forehead. 

He had unknowingly lightened a spark of hope in you. You just hoped that his heart would win this race against time in which your own body was trapped, or else you would be lying to him once again. Even if you had promised you would wait for him, you weren’t so sure that the sickness would. 

The doctors signed off your release forms the next day. You had just changed from the hospital gown to your casual clothes when someone knocked on your door. 

“Come in,” you called out while putting on your shoes. 

The door opened on your monochrome roommate. 

“Wednesday,” you said surprised, “what are you doing here?”

“I was visiting Eugene,” she said flatly, “I heard you had woken up.”

Despite your initial surprise you nodded, “Yeah, the doctors gave me authorization to go back to school. Not that they can do anything for me anyway, “ you muttered the last part. 

“Do they know about your condition?” she asked. 

You shook your head, “So far, you’re the only one knowing everything. Weems knows parts of it; so does Xavier.” 

“You told him?” she raised her eyebrow. 

Almost shyly you cast your eyes down, “Not everything. He doesn’t know he’s…that he has something to do with it.” 

After a pause, Wednesday spoke again, “This is a rather strategic decision. If you’re dying, there’s no reason to burden yourself with more guilt from him. You’re probably in enough pain, lucky you.”

It almost made you chuckle, “I’m surprised you actually agree with my feelings.”

“I’m not,” she denied sharply, “like I said, it’s only a strategic move.”

You only shrugged in response. 

“How’s Eugene?” you asked in a small voice. 

Wednesday’s harsh expression softened a little, “He’s okay. Still unconscious, but okay.”

This news saddened you a little. Sure, Eugene was out of danger, but he didn’t deserve to end up in a hospital bed. 

“His mothers asked me to thank you by the way,” she added, and you lifted your head in surprise. “They learned that you had gone to his rescue.”

“Yeah, except I couldn’t help him,” you mumbled bitterly. 

She shrugged, “Still, they are passing you their thanks.” 

Pulling your jacket, you swallowed your shame. Eugene didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t been able to help him; you didn’t deserve his mums’ thanks. 

“I wished to thank you too,” added Wednesday quietly. At your once again shocked expression she continued, “You didn’t have to run to his aid, yet you didn’t hesitate to. So, thank you.”

Once the initial surprise wore off you smiled slightly, “Is that compassion I heard from you, Wednesday Addams?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she deadpanned. 

“I’m not talking about me though, I’m talking about Eugene. You have a soft spot for that kid.” 

She narrowed her eyes at you but said nothing. You chuckled, knowing you were right. 

“Well you’re welcome,” you said grabbing your bag – in which the pumpkin plushie Xavier gifted you laid carefully, “Always a pleasure to prove a point.”

“Which point?” she frowned. 

“That no matter how much you despise them, you do have feelings Wednesday.” 

With that, you left the room and quietly made your way to the entrance where Principal Weems waited for you to bring you back to Nevermore. Even if she looked the same as usual, elegant as ever, you didn’t miss the pitiful look in her eyes everytime she looked at you. The looming figure of upcoming death above you was something she couldn’t ignore; you guessed that it was going to be like this, now. 

“Your aunt called,” she told you as the both of you were seated in her car, driving away from the hospital. “She can’t make it to the parents’ week-end.” 

This made your heart squeeze a little, but you weren’t exactly surprised, “Oh,” you said simply, “guess I should’ve seen that coming.”

In the corner of your eye you could see the sorry look of Principal Weems. After a few moments of silence, she said, “I didn’t tell her about your condition.” 

“Thank you,” you muttered, glad the principal actually kept her word. “I’ll call her this week-end.” 

Maybe in the meantime things would change; but you doubted it. 

When you reached Nevermore the first place you went to was your room, only to be trapped in a bone-crushing hug by Enid. The werewolf didn’t sound like she was aware of the extent of the disease, because she rambled about the importance of good sleep and healthy feeding in a very cute and concerned way. Apparently, she still thought you had passed out from exhaustion, meaning she hadn’t seen your body the night of the Rave’n. Which was good; with the upcoming arrival of her parents the day after, you knew you couldn’t tell her everything now. Her relationship with her mother had its lots of complications, your health would wait. 

Then after reassuring Enid that you were now fine, you grabbed a few of your belongings and made your way to the boys’ dormitory. Xavier opened his door after the first knock. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, “can I stay here tonight?”

He smiled softly at you, before letting you in, “Of course.” 

His room hadn’t changed much since the last time you had come. It felt oddly comforting, like a safe space. Carefully taking your hands in his, Xavier slowly guided you to his bed. He laid down on his back and you snuggled on his side, head against his chest. One of his hands naturally found its way to your hair, getting lost in your locks. The soothing beating of his heart against your ear seemed enough to keep the both of you alive. 

“Does it still hurt?” he mumbled against your hairline. 

You nodded, unable to tell him how much pain you were in. “Sometimes it calms down,” you tried to reassure him. 

Still, he winced at your words. “I’m not letting you down this time,” he whispered, throat tight, “I promise.” 

Craning your head up to look at him, you smiled softly, “I know, Xav. You and me against the world, right?”

The words the both of you had kept saying through your childhood brought a small smile on his face. “Yeah,” he kissed your forehead, “you and me against the world, sweetheart.” 

That night, despite the dreadful and irksome sensation of the flowers clawing in your throat, you slept peacefully. No matter how your lungs ached, the only thing that mattered was Xavier’s arms wrapped safely around you. 

When the first day of parent’s week-end rolled by the morning after, you knew that it was going to be a long day for both Xavier and you. Even your mutual soothing presences couldn’t tune down the anxiety that grew as the morning went on. From one of the passageways above the quad, Xavier was glancing either to his phone or to the school gates every ten seconds. Waiting for his father to either make an appearance, or a call. Leaning on the balcony next to him you nudged his shoulder with your in a silent gesture of support. He flashed a small smile for reassurance, but you knew the absence of his father hurt him. 

“He’s not coming,” he said bitterly. 

“There’s still people arriving, maybe he will show up,” you tried. 

He tsked, “You know him Y/N. Mighty Vincent Thorpe doesn’t have time for his unworthy son.” 

“Hey,” you insisted, putting a hand on his, “don’t say that. You’re kind and talented, no matter what he says.”

Xavier smiled softly at your words, but his eyes were still tainted with sorrow. Cradling his cheek you brushed your thumb over his cheekbones, “You’re worthy to me, Xav. You’re already twice the man your father will ever be.” 

His smile broadened and he kissed your palm, muttering a thanks. He shouldn’t dwell on his father's antics; you were there, and that was all that mattered. 

“Your aunt’s coming?” he asked quietly, lifting his face from your hand to instead take it in his. 

“No,” you said sadly, “she’s busy too. But I’ll call her later.” 

This time, it was his turn to frown, “Does she know yet?”

You shook your head, “This isn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.” 

“Do you want me to be here when you’ll call her?” he suggested softly. 

His support offer touched you, but your heart clenched anyway, “No I…this is something I need to do on my own.”

Xavier nodded in understanding. He didn’t want to press the issue further, this was your call to make. 

Down in the quad, you noticed that Enid’s family had finally arrived. Even from up here you could practically hear Enid’s anxiety. As you looked back to Xavier to speak, you noticed the lonely figure of Bianca a few feet away from the both of you, hesitant to approach. Xavier followed your eyes and glanced behind his shoulder to the siren. 

“I’m going to give Enid some emotional support,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “We’ll see each other when the buffet starts, okay?”

He nodded, kissing your knuckles as a goodbye. Before you walked away you nodded in Bianca’s direction, “Go talk to her.”

He frowned, slightly surprised by your words, “You’re sure?”

You nodded. Him and Bianca weren’t together anymore, but that didn’t change the fact that they were friends. And after the little heart-to-heart you had with her at the party…you knew she needed her friend. 

“She’s alone too, today,” you said, noticing the absence of her mother. 

“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered.

You smiled at him. “You’re not, I promise. Go, I’m going to Enid and I’ll find you later.” 

Passing next to Bianca, you mirrored her unusual kind smile. It seemed that your heart-to-heart had unlocked a strange form of compassion. Maybe if you had more time, you could be friends with her, you thought as you went down to the quad. 

Crossing the crowded space to get to your blonde roommate, you didn’t expect to run into Wednesday and a handful of black-claded people accompanying her. 

“Y/N,” she greeted sharply, “if you’re trying to flee this gruesome social obligation, I must ask you to consider helping me on this matter.” 

The plump man behind her let out a rich laugh. “Ah, did our little nightmare finally make a friend, then?” 

Wednesday glared at him. But that didn’t seem to disencourage the man who nudged her, “Well, why don’t you introduce us to your friend, my little death trap?”

She rolled her eyes so you took the initiative, extending your hand, “I’m Y/N L/N, Wednesday’s roommate. Pleasure meeting you, sir.”

He shook your hand before bowing his head slightly yet in a very theatrical gesture, “I’m Gomez Addams, Wednesday’s father. Thank you for having welcomed our daughter with open arms.”

You heard Wednesday snort, but you put on a polite smile, “Wednesday’s a very considerate roommate, sir. We get along fine.” 

On the corner of your eyes you could notice the way her eyebrows slightly rose up in surprise. Surely, she didn’t expect such compliments; but you had to give it to her, she had been respectful of your boundaries the best she could, no matter how nosy she might have been. Plus, you probably owed her your life for having found you in the woods after the Rave’n. 

“Whatever,” she huffed, starting to walk away with her father following her with playful pleas. 

“It’s a true delight to see Wednesday getting along with someone,” said a feminine voice from behind you. 

You turned around to face a raven-haired woman dressed in a long dramatic dress, hands elegantly crossed in front of her. Despite her rather gloomy appearance, she had kind eyes and a soft smile. 

“Thank you for indulging my daughter's behavior, miss L/N,” she said with a smile. “Wednesday has a lot of qualities, but her social skills aren’t of those.”

That made you smile a little, extending your hand to her, “You must be Wednesday’s mother. A pleasure ma’am.” 

She came to reach your outreached hand, “My name’s Morticia. A witch, aren’t you Miss L/N? I’ve heard about your aunt’s reputation before.”

You were about to confirm her words, but as soon as her hand touched yours for a handshake, Morticia froze, eyes widening. It was only for a brief moment, a breath really, but once she seemed to regain her spirits the previously kind expression on her face turned into despair. 

“Oh poor child,” she whispered, mouth agape. “What a dreadful path you’re on.”

Morticia’s reaction troubled you; what had happened? “Excuse me?”

Her eyes bore into yours, and what you saw surprised you even more: they were glossy with tears. 

“I saw what’s plaguing you. You’re cursed with Hanahaki disease, aren’t you?”

Her words stunned you right on the spot. How was this possible? How could she possibly know? 

As panic started to overflow your mind, the familiar tickling urge and taste of blood rushed in your throat.  

“How?...” you whispered, chest tight and burning under the flower’s pressure. 

Her tearful eyes turned into a sympathetic expression, “I am gifted with visions, and I saw what looms over you.”

No matter how hard you tried to restrain them, tears were already gathering in your eyes and you nodded painfully. “You know about the disease? But how? It has been so difficult to learn anything about it.”

She smiled sadly at you, “I know many things about love, dear child. Especially cursed ones.” 

As on cue, you coughed a handful of bloodied petals in your hand. Morticia Addams winced at the pitiful sight. Immediately, your eyes flickered to the higher passageway as you felt Xavier’s eyes on you. He must have heard you cough somehow, because even from where you stood, you could see his panicked eyes. He looked ready to jump over the balcony in the blink of an eye, worry consuming him. But you slightly shook your head, mouthing that you were fine. That didn’t erase his discomfort, but at least he started to make his way hurriedly to the stairs instead of rushing down in the dumbest way possible. Morticia didn’t miss any of this. 

“Is that him?” asked Wednesday’s mother softly. 

You nodded slowly. This was strange, you knew this woman for less than five minutes but her motherly aura somehow made you at ease. 

“Does he know?” she pressed carefully, and the negative shake of your head made her heart fill with sadness for you. 

“He can never know,” you whispered, casting your eyes down to hide your tears. “It would break him to know it’s somehow his fault.” 

She lifted your chin gently, with one finger. The sorrowful, yet kind look she was giving you made your heart swell. 

“But he cares about you. I can see that.”

You could only shrug in defeat, “What if it can’t save me?”

She smiled softly at you, “I didn’t see your end, dear child. Only great pain, the one going through. But if that boy is close to you, maybe that’s why my vision didn’t show me your demise.”

That made your eyes widen. Could there still be a chance, like you had hoped? 

“Does that mean…do you think there’s still a chance for me to heal, then?” you whispered in disbelief. 

Letting go of your chin, she nodded, “My visions are often incomplete, but rarely wrong. And my sight does not fool me, young Y/N. I saw the look you both shared.”. Replacing a strand of hair behind your ear in a mothering care, she smiled, “There is hope, as long as there is love.” 

Noticing the upcoming figure of a very concerned Xavier behind you, Morticia smiled one last time. 

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Y/N. I sincerely hope we’ll run into each other again.”

Through your blurry eyes, you offered her a weak but sincere smile. “Me too, Mrs.Addams. And…thank you.”

With one last enigmatic smile, she walked away gracefully to rejoin her family, just as Xavier reached you. 

“Hey,” he whispered, “you’re alright?”

Whipping the gathering tears with the back of your hand, you nodded, “Yeah…I made a surprising encounter that’s all.”

He looked over at the dark yet classy figure of Morticia Addams on the other side of the quad and frowned. “Isn’t that Wednesday’s mum?”

Looking at this reassuring mother figure, you smiled softly, “Yeah, she is. She’s great.”

About half an hour later it turned out that no matter how kind your roommate’s mom was, karma had a strange sense of humor. That’s what you thought when the police arrested Gomez Addams for a murder aged 20 years. This definitely put a stain on the joyful ambience of parents’ weekend, but the festivities resumed soon after. As the night started to roll by, you knew that you ultimately had to call your aunt. 

“You’re sure you don’t want me to be here for support?” asked Xavier, hand in yours before your room’s door. 

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him, still thankful he offered. “Aunt Cordelia and I will have a lot of things to talk about, it won’t be a fun conversation.” 

At his still worried look, you suddenly felt bolder and kissed his cheek, nearly on the corner of his mouth. This wasn’t unusual for the both of you, but it was the first time since you had actually kissed. His eyes widened slightly, but it was soon replaced by a soft smile. 

“I’ll text you when it’s over, okay?” you promised him. 

“Okay,” he finally admitted, “if anything’s wrong, just text me I’ll be there in a minute.” 

His devotion made you smile. Xavier had always been protective of you when you were kids, but since you had confessed your love to him, this was a whole new level, even if he didn’t return your romantic feelings yet. 

Reluctantly letting go of his hand, you pushed open your door, catching one last glance before closing it behind you. The silence and emptiness of the room made you let out a long sigh. Enid was sleeping outside with her family, and Wednesday must have been visiting her father in detention. This was the perfect moment to make that phone call. 

Grabbing your phone and composing your aunt’s number before courage wore off of you, you stepped on the balcony behind the large web-shaped window. The cool air of the night felt nice against the skin of your sore throat; you had thrown up again quite a lot today, much to Xavier’s worry. 

Your aunt picked up at the last ringtone, “Good to know you’re still alive, Y/N,” she said as a greeting. 

Her choice of words almost made you choke on your own breath. She had no idea. “Yeah…hi aunt Cordelia…”

On the other side of the phone, you could picture her frowning, “Oooh, what’s with that sad voice, pumpkin? Is something wrong?”

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out; instead a wave of emotion rushed in your throat, tightening it so hard it made tears come out of your eyes. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” called out your aunt. 

And then you broke down in tears, “I’m dying,” you cried out. Here, you said it. Blurted it because every emotion you had repressed recently for the sake of Xavier or anyone else had overwhelmed you, crashing into you like a high wave. And now the tears wouldn't stop. 

“Wait, wait, slow down Y/N, slow down,” said the worried voice on the phone, “Take a deep breath, okay?”

“I can’t,” you whimpered in between tears, “it hurts too much. I- I have flowers growing in my lungs and I c-can’t breathe,” you hiccuped. A long, dreadful silence echoed your sobs; so long you thought your aunt had dropped her phone. “Aunt Cordelia?...”

Her rasping voice answered you at last, “You have Hanahaki disease?”

“Yes,” you hiccuped in surprise, “how do you…”

“I just know. It’s Xavier isn’t it?” she cut you off, voice trembling because of the shock. 

Trembling, you nodded. She couldn’t see that, but you knew she understood. 

“I’m taking the first flight to Nevermore tomorrow morning,” she said curtly, “I’m picking you up.”

“What?” you blurted; the tears had gradually stopped flowing, “why?”

“So we can get you fixed, Y/N,” she said in a harsh tone. But you knew her; the truth was that behind that tone, she was terrified. Still, it didn’t stop you from starting to cry again. 

“Please don’t,” you begged, “please. I don’t want to leave Nevermore, not now!”

Your aunt let out a frustrated sigh, “There’s nothing for you here anymore! You need to come back home, so we can start to cure this.” 

Her words caught your breath. 

“There’s a cure?” you whispered in disbelief. “But I thought…I’ve read nothing about it.” 

Suddenly, the tone in your aunt’s voice changed to something softer. And tainted with regrets. “It’s not a pretty thing to do, pumpkin,” she admitted. “It requires making difficult decisions.” 

“But…but the disease will disappear if Xavier actually loves me back, isn’t it?” you stuttered frantically. “He’s trying, I promise we have a chance.” 

“Oh Y/N…” sighed your aunt, “This isn’t how it works love…”

“We have a chance!” you repeated, starting to cry again, “Please aunt Cordelia, we only need a little more time, don’t make me leave…please…”

“You’re dying, Y/N,” she snapped, “time is a luxury you don’t have!” 

The way she had snapped at you startled you; even if she hadn’t always been the most present parent, aunt Cordelia had never screamed or scolded you. 

After a brief moment of silence, where she realized her mistake, Cordelia sighed again. 

“Listen pumpkin…I’ve already lost your mother, I can’t lose you too…”

Tears continued to roll down your cheeks. You didn’t dare to speak, afraid that your voice would break under the weight of emotions.

“I want to believe in Xavier and you, I really do okay? He’s a good man, and I’m sure he might love you someday.”

“But?” you asked with a trembling voice. 

“But…Hanahaki disease never ends well darling,” she said in a sorry tone. “Trust me, I’ve seen people trying to fight it, but no matter how hard they tried they never survived.” 

All the hopes that the encounter with Morticia Addams had awakened in your heart suddenly crumbled to ashes. 

“So…I’m doomed?” you cried. 

The silence that answered you was worth a thousand words. Your back hit the stone wall and you let your whole body slump against it; your legs couldn’t hold you up any longer. 

“I’m sorry pumpkin,” muttered your aunt. 

Biting your lips not to scream, you managed to let out the words you never thought you’d say, “What is this cure…the one you were talking about?”

Surprisingly, she sounded hesitant now. “It’s a surgical operation,” she explained slowly, “it gets the flowers and roots completely removed. But it comes with a price.”

“Which price?” you whispered between trembling lips. 

“You…” she hesitated, “you would forget all memories of Xavier. And it’s highly likely you’ll never get to love again.” 

Choking on air, you let out a small strangled cry. 

“I can’t,” you croaked, “you can’t ask me to do this.” 

“Y/N darling, I understand,” she begged, “but you must if you want to live.” 

You squeezed your eyes tight, like you could suddenly wake up from this nightmare, leaving it all behind with the retiring night. 

“I understand he’s important to you,” she conceded gently, “are you really willing to die for him though?” 

Your answer was instantaneous, “I have faith in him. I can- we can do this, I know it.”

She remained silent. Maybe you were already too deep into denial for her to change your mind. So she sighed in defeat. 

“You’re as stubborn as your mother,” she said quietly, “if I let you stay at Nevermore, would you promise me that if he can’t save you on time you would consider getting the flowers removed?”

The hesitation was what betrayed you, “I…I can’t promise you that.”. But she already knew the answer. 

“I know. But I also know that you won’t completely push away the possibility. I love you, pumpkin.” 

Before you could add anything, she hung up. Shoulders slumping you buried your face in your hands, letting tears down. 

How did the hope that had been building up over the last two days become so fragile? You wanted to believe in Xavier, with all of your heart you truly did. It just was beginning to be incredibly harder that you had thought. 

[Part.7] 

A/N: yes hello, in this house we worship Morticia Addams like the queen she is in every single one of her adaptations, thank you So yeah, not much action in that chapter ksjfbkbgk but I loved writing soft Xavier with reader QwQ

Also, a lot of you asked how many chapters this fic would be! I don’t know for sure, but given how I write, I think it’ll be around 10 chapters! 

Thanks everyone for your incredible support, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥ Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

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[sourcherryandsprinkles]

What if Xavier's father showed up to parents weekend? maybe he's not nice to his son and reader say something? Or vice versa

This has been in my wips for so long! I miss writing/reading about Xavier...

p.s. I didn't plan on making this 1.4k, but it happened

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Being the son of world-famous psychic Vincent Thorpe had its perks and many downs.

Getting a lot of toys to play with as a child and living in a big house sounded like a dream, but for the rest, there was nothing to envy. Since he could remember, Xavier always had high standards to reach. He was expected to have the greatest grades and to be on top of all of his classes, always be on his best behavior, speak nothing but highly of his father and mostly, not taint his father's reputation in any way shape or form.

Like any little kid, Xavier admired and looked up to his father. Being world-famous made him sound so cool to his young eyes. But that idolization changed with time. Xavier realized that nothing he does will ever be enough for him. His grades — although considered excellent — will never be good enough to his father’s eyes. He’ll always disappoint him.

As a parent, Vincent Thorpe wasn’t so cool. Xavier always had to fight to get his father's attention. Instead of congratulating him on a test he got an above average grade, Vincent would tell him to work harder next time. He never came to his school plays or other events — unless it gave him an occasion to brag about himself. He never sat down long enough to recognize the talent Xavier had for art or comforted him after his mother lost her battle to cancer at the hospital.

When his powers began to show, people expected Xavier to be as great as his father. Unfortunately, his psychic powers were not as impressive. All he could do was bring his art to life.

He also had occasional dreams that predict the future, but those were more on the scary side — nightmares.

Beneath the balustrade Xavier was standing by, the quad was filled with parents and families greeting and hugging their children. He remembered his first year at Nevermore. He had waited all day for his father to show up on Parents Weekend, convinced he would come visit him like the other parents only to end up crying in his bed because he was the only kid whose parents weren't present.

That day put a further strain to their relationship. The next year, Xavier didn't bother waiting for his father. Nor the year after.

‘’Not sure how much of this family togetherness I can take,’’ Xavier said when you joined him.

‘’Guessing your dad’s a no-show again this year?’’

He nodded, looking down at the crowd of parents with sadness. ‘’Yeah. He hasn’t show his face since I started here.’’

Parents Weekend was Xavier’s least favorite Nevermore event. It was just a painful reminder that his father didn't care enough about him to show up. The man preferred to be on tour and hear a crowd applaud him than spend a day with his only son. Xavier acted like it didn't bother him, but he was deeply hurt.

‘’Shouldn’t you be with your mom and brother?’’

You shook your head. ‘’My mom texted me last night saying she couldn’t make it, she caught a nasty cold and doesn’t want to spread her sickness. That means we can spend the day together.’’ You smiled and kissed him sweetly.

Xavier smiled a half smile against your lips.

‘’We can go into town if you want? Get coffee and—’’

‘’Xavier,’’ the gravelly voice of a man called behind you, rudely interrupting.

You looked over your shoulder, eyes falling on a tall man wearing a long coat cleared. He had a haughty posture and the same green eyes you loved to stare into.

Beside you, Xavier looked like he had seen a ghost — and he might as well have. After years of no-show, his father decided to show up.

‘’D-dad.’’ The young psychic quickly composed himself, straightening up and fixing his posture before his father could point it out.

The exchange was strange and cold. From your viewing point, it seemed uncomfortable.

You subtly rested a hand on the small of Xavier’s back, standing close so his father wouldn’t notice. A way of telling him ‘I’m here’. ‘’Welcome to Nevermore Academy, Mr. Thorpe,’’ you politely greeted, forcing a welcoming smile.

The man completely — and rudely — ignored you, which only added a point to the lengthy list of reasons why you hated Vincent Thorpe. He might be famous, but it didn’t give him the right to be rude to people.

‘’I didn't know you would be coming.’’ Xavier shifted, absentmindedly leaning into your touch.

‘’It was a last minute decision. I was on a flight back from Paris when my personal assistant forwarded me that Principal Weems had invited me to Nevermore's Parents Weekend. My tour is on break for a few days. Why not surprise my son and pay him a visit.’’

Xavier huffed a dry laugh. ‘’So you came here because you had nothing better to do? I’m just a way to fill empty spaces in your schedule?’’

Vincent stared down at his son, then corrected him. ‘’That’s not what I said.’’

‘’But it sounded like it,’’ you said, coming to Xavier’s defense. It wasn’t your place to speak up, but you knew Xavier wouldn’t stand up to his father. ‘’I understand that you are a career oriented person, Mr. Thorpe, but children shouldn’t fill empty spaces in a parent’s schedule. A good parent make space for them in their schedule, cares and listen to them instead of booking appointments with a therapist by fear a bad word under their name ends in the tabloids, calls to take news instead of having their assistant send an email and show up to their school events.’’

Words kept spilling out of your mouth, firing examples of Vincent’s shitty parenting. You could’ve kept going for longer, but some things were too personal to bring up where people could hear.

Like the reason Xavier started going on nightly runs. He didn’t start running out of pleasure; his father had forced him to lose weight because ‘having a fat son wouldn't be good for his image’. Or why he enrolled him at Nevermore Academy. It wasn’t just because it was a school for outcasts. The academy allowed him to focus on his career and touring the world. So instead of putting his career on hold and becoming the parent he knew that Xavier really needed him to be, he sent him to Nevermore instead.

In Vincent Thorpe’s mind, parenting was a chore. He had planned to leave all the parenting to his wife while he focused all his attention on his career, but life had other plans for her and took her away, leaving him with a son he didn’t care enough about to make room for in his professional life.

Before you, the tall man’s face twisted, immediately taking offense. ‘’How dare you speak to me with that tone. Do you know who you are speaking to, young lady?’’

It should have made you feel small, but you weren’t intimidated by him. To your eyes, he was just a man.

‘’I do, and I do not care. Being famous does not give you the right to treat your son like a forgotten toy on a shelf that you only spare a glance at and remembers exists every couple of months. Xavier should be your priority, but he’s not. All you see and care about is the tabloids and if a bad word about you or your name gets out, not if your son had a bad day or if he won his fencing duel.’’

Vincent drew his eyebrows, shifting his gaze to his son. ‘’Fencing? Xavier doesn’t do fencing.’’

‘’Yeah, I do,’’ Xavier replied. ‘’I told you in an email two years ago, but you probably had your assistant read it for you like you do with all of my emails.’’

‘’I don’t—’’

‘’Yes, you do!’’

A few heads in the quad had looked up at the loudness of Xavier's tone, catching their attention.

Mr. Thorpe's jaw tensed, shooting a quick look beneath the balcony. ‘’Xavier, please lower your voice,’’ he hissed, more worried about the possible gossip than Xavier’s anger toward him. ‘’Have you been seeing Dr. Kinbott? I thought she was helping you with your anger issues. Do you want me to call her?’’

How dared he talk about Xavier anger issues? He wouldn't have anger issues if he wasn't such a shit father. Couldn’t he see that it was him who put him into this state?

‘’I...I think it’s better if we just don’t do this family thing today,’’ Xavier decided, his voice much calmer. ‘’I can’t spend more time in your presence.’’

‘’But I came all the way here?’’

Xavier shrugged, giving him a tight lipped smile. ‘’I’m sure you’ll find people to kiss your feet and flatter your ego. I’m done.’' he said before walking away, leaving you and his father behind.

''Xavier!'' Vincent called after his son, but Xavier didn't look back.

—

Wednesday taglist: @sofiaadler @partyfly @hoodforcalum @thelilacmourning @ellessecretobsession @su-alteza-emia @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf @peterparkerdilf @roadworkaheadisurehopeitdoes @dragon-chica @coldtacozinepanda @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn @babyfiva @maevaomizzolo @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit @heaven-hiding @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld @parker-nite @bellblake121890 @vesperazhier @kaldurahms-lover @beeebo234 @nephilimsss @mayuphoenix @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20 @wildflowerlyss @strangersomeone @openfandoms @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n  @poppet05  @ell0ra-br3kk3r

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[themonotonysyndrome]

hello, lovely lady!

i truly hope you’re doing well, and im sure you know this, but your work is much appreciated, but please please take care of yourself!

with that being said, even though i’ve seen previous head-cannons, do you think it would be possible if we sort of got an updated head-cannon of how Cecila and Castin will parent their children when they’ve reacher their teen years? just curious. 🙃

please don’t feel obligated to indulge me or do such, and as always have a fantastic day/evening.

💖🤍

It's the awesome addie! Hello, hello!

I'm okay—well, as alright as I can be. I'm very happy that you enjoyed my writing, and that's enough to make me feel so much better!

Ah... teenagehood. I was a pretty chill teenager—moody but pretty tamed. I was more into writing than doing sports, lol. But let's check out what Celica and Castin are like as parents raising their teenage twins!

Headcanons where Dain & Deirdre are teenagers & how Castin and Celica raise them:

This may come across as surprising, but it's Castin's that's gonna be a low-key helicopter parents 😂

Castin is very invested in Dain & Deirdre's life. What's the tea at school? Any dramas between friends? Any crushes? 👀 Any new hobbies?

While Celica is also interested in their children's daily lives, she only asks how they fare in their studies and if they've been keeping up with their etiquette training, which their governess would report to her directly. Unfortunately, after giving birth, the Baroness is busier than ever.

This isn't to say that Castin is also not busy with his patrols and hunting down any signs of rebels, but unlike Celica, who's actually at home, he would keep in touch with the twins via letters and calls even when he's on the other end of Intacia.

Castin habitually announces ridiculous rules for the twins during dinners every other week! EX: "Neither of y'all are allowed to talk more than 100 words to your crushes." And the next week would be "Don't spar with the opposite gender! Oh, wait - " Yeah, the twins learned to just ignore the rules, lol.

As for Celica, though? She has only one rule for the twins: "Do not tarnish the Anesidora name." Now, this might seem cold, and while the twins absolutely hate it, believing that their own mother is more concerned about their family's reputation than her own damn kids that she nearly died giving birth for, Celica's rule is actually a test to see if the twins are good at deception and finding loopholes on doing any anything that she doesn't like behind her back. Because if they can pull it off? That means they're on the way to inherit her position, and that's what Celica has been waiting for.

Now! Teenage rebellions!

"Don't worry, baby. Big Daddy Caddy is on it! He knows a thing or two about stopping rebellions!"

"Please do not tackle our children to the ground as if they are criminal."

"Pfft - I won't, I won't!"

Each of the twins acts out in different manner but most often, their attitudes are directed at their mother. Dain's acts of rebellion are more... subtle. Avoiding eye contact when Celica is talking to him, refusing to smile in her presence, purposely scrapping his cutleries onto the plates when eating, creating an ear-piercing sound and etc. Deirdre is a lot more of an outburst. She would skip lessons, walk away in a middle of the conversation, and getting in a shouting match with Celica because all she cares about is asking about their progress, not how they really are.

Of course this isn't true as Celica is only thinking about their future and of course, every time her children lash out at her, she feels hurt but then she would react in ways that was ingrained to her since childhood - stoic face, silent and retreat to her office for several days.

Those are the moments where Castin had to mediate between them and always remind their twins to be patient with their Mum and try to think about things in her perspective. The only reason they could act freely as teenagers and not would-be politician or hell, even consuming poison are because the Baroness constantly serve as a 'shield' for the twins in high society.

Every mistakes they made in public, every blunder they offend a household would immediately smooth out by the Baroness.

That's her form of love. Castin knows this after being married to her for so many years but the twins don't understand that.

She's hard on them because the world was cruel to her growing up. She's awkward in showing affections because her Ezekiel, Eaton and Tristan keeps her at arms-length due to their status.

She's a damn good Baroness and she hopes that in time, she'll be a worthy mother to Dain and Deirdre.

[hooked-on-elvis]

MY EYES... MY TEARY EYES! 🥹

ABOUT ELVIS AND GLADYS' BOND. ♥

"Watching the snow reminded me of Elvis' mother. She used to say that if snowed in Memphis when Elvis was gone, she always went outside and gathered up enough in a pan to make snowballs for Elvis to see when he came back. She put them in the freezer of the refrigerator to keep. Elvis loved to see it snow at Graceland." Excerpts from "Elvis: This One's For You" by Arlene Cogan.

No wonder why EP missed his mother dearly. There's many types of moms but the Gladys type of mommy is a true blessing - the ones which heart's that almost burst while trying to make you feel their love for you. It's almost a physical need to pour love in their children every way they can. Towards their children, they have all love languages at once: words of encouragement, sound advice, physical touch/cuddles, actions… It's suffocating, but in a wonderful way. Gladys Love Presley was the sweetest mom anyone could wish for. EP was fortunate in many ways - starting from his family - but what a misfortune was to lose Gladys so early in his life. Love is a dangerous splendid thing anyway. It's best to have it and lose it than never being touched by it. Gladys' love for her son was bigger than life anyway. ♥ -- Note: The excerpt from that book reminded me this footage below, where Gladys is playing with the snow with Vernon (C. January, 1958). There's also another book that mentions her saving some snow so that Elvis could see it later when he came back home (i don't remember what book, unfortunately, but I've read this before).

Above, pictures takes in 1957, during "Loving You" movie production. Gladys actually appears on the big screen for a few seconds in this Presley early movie. EP dances next to her while singing "Got A Lot O' Livin' To Do" by the end of the movie… It's so cute!

Photo 5-13: March 23-24th, 1958

Elvis was about to be inducted in the US Army. The photos showing the Presley's alone were taken March 23rd, a day before Elvis' army induction day. On the actual induction day, on March 24th (pictures 11-13), there's footage where EP's hopping a bus together with other fellow guys, heading to the army camp to the beginning of the basic trainning and his 2-year epic journey as Private Presley in the U.S. Army. Gladys was visibly shaken and heartbroken to see her beloved son go away and the reason why. Some family members and friends said Gladys was terrified thinking about the horrors of World War II that she seriously feared for Elvis' life and well-being as a soldier. She never got over it, even though Elvis and everybody else tried to convince her nothing was going to happen, after all they were living at the Cold War period, therefore there wasn't reasonable reasons in being anxiously alarmed. Nothing seemed to comfort Gladys. We know she sadly passed away on August, 1958, a few months after Elvis was inducted in the army. Years later, EP would say to one of his intimate acquaintances "my mommy really worried to death." It's so sad... in a poetic way. IDK what I'm talking about right now… It's like she couldn't live without her little boy, literally. Gladys was so close to her son! The reciprocity is true. She was the only person EP trusted blindfolded, with all his heart, body, mind and soul. Gladys only had the best intentions for her son. She didn't care about the money or fame. She actually asked him many time if it wouldn't be better/safer if he gave up his career and just became a business man, a owner of some local company in Memphis/TN, got married, had his own family, and lived a nice, calm, Southern life. EP used to get upset with that "nonsense" talk, because he loved his career greatly and everything was working out just fine for him... he was in love with his music and his fans. He was born to be the King of Rock and Roll and he worked very hard for it every single day. It wasn't right to chicken up. He wouldn't give it up his career, even for his beloved mommy. Yet, Gladys couldn't help herself but to worry something bad could happen if she was not by his side 24/7. A typical loving mom behavior. Even when she acted overprotective like that and drove Elvis insane sometimes, it was all out of the purest heavenly true love... and he knew it.

Although she was uneasy most of the time, thinking about Elvis' well being, the constant travelling on the road all the time, having tabloids badmouthing him, a portion of American society threatening to put him in jail, crazy passionate fans scratching the hell out of him, trying to touch him to the point they'd tear his clothes off his body, even so Gladys supported Elvis' career and was by his side whatever he decided to do. He knew how blessed he was having her for his mother, and Elvis did his best to protect his mommy's heart - even by hiding some of the bad happenings in his life from her. He wouldn't let anything break her heart... even himself.

Yet, so soon the day came when she was gone. Elvis never ceased missing his mommy.

Shantay Perrish, a dedicated fan shared the following story: "We arrived about 7:00 pm that following evening and were shocked to see Elvis leaving on his Harley with a blue flower arrangement strapped to the rear. I quickly went to the guard house shack and asked Harold Lloyd, "Is that who I think it was?" Harold said, "Yes that was Elvis, but don't follow him." We waited there and he returned to Graceland within the hour. Earlier that day we had gone to pay our respect to his mother at Forest Hill, never thinking of Elvis possibly showing up. The next morning we again went to Forest Hill Cemetery and there on Gladys grave was the arrangement of blue flowers we had seen the night before on the motorcycle. Elvis had been to visit his mother in a quiet personal moment."

Photos and excerpt from the book "Elvis Behind the Image."

This event possibly took place circa August 11th, 1977. A few days before Elvis Presley sadly passed away on August 16th. The photo 1 shows Elvis leaving Graceland that day and the photo 2 is Gladys' grave site with the blue flower arrangement he placed there for his mommy for one last time. Elvis assured to send flowers there often over the years since Gladys' passing, but this time he delivered it there himself. Isn't intriguing, to say the least?

Oh, mama liked the roses but most of all she cared About the way we learned to live And if we said our prayers Oh, mama liked the roses in such a special way We bring them every Mother's Day And put them on her grave Oh, mama liked the roses Mmmm Mama liked the roses

In loving memory of Gladys Love Presley ♥

[ackerfics]

FAMILY LINE — a house of the dragon fanfiction | aegon ii targaryen x oc

act one, chapter two: the red-bricked road (wc: 6.6k) | masterlist

Maester Orwyle is the kindest Maester she has ever known.

The Maesters in Dragonstone are all knobbly knees and wrinkly skin. Aesira once thought they posed as wizards until they outright told her that magic wasn’t part of their profession. She wanted to argue that they looked like one of the magic-wielders in the picture books she adored reading again and again but they shut her down and proceeded to explain the most basic parts of Westeros history to a child of four name days. Everything about them was boring — none of the whimsical touch she wanted to see. It nearly drove her mother insane how she would prefer to make the Maesters’ lives a lot worse by never listening to their teachings and by always hopping from one chair to another. Her father, though, laughed at every misguided action Aesira made, claiming that she was becoming his little dragon. Still, she wanted them to be more engaging; they were droning like insects during the summer and it wasn’t a nice sound to listen to every day.

But Maester Orwyle is patient enough to face Aesira’s never-ending questions.

How do you become a Maester? Can you do magic? But Mother said you can heal any wound, so why can’t you do magic? Where do you come from? Does the King pick you? When can I see my dragon? Do you know anything about dragons? 

She learns that to assume as a Maester, one must study and dedicate their life to being a scholar in a place called the Citadel. Maester Orwyle doesn’t go into full detail but he reveals that it is guarded by the Hightowers, which is the House the Queen belongs to. No, they can’t do magic, an answer she heard from across the seas and they can’t fully heal a wound, unfortunately. Maester Orwyle doesn’t entertain the questions about seeing her dragon but he offers a wide variety of history lessons about them when he has more time for tutoring. He tells her she is a breath of fresh air after witnessing her fiery enthusiasm about learning, adding that Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena both have their little things to worry about other than learning about how the realm came to be. Aegon, she can understand, but Helaena? The girl looks smart enough with how composed she appears. But Aesira doesn’t have the right to judge someone’s character — she was taught by her mother to be better than that.

After her hundredth question, Maester Orwyle places a bound journal on the table.

“What do I do with it, Maester Orwyle?” She asks, eyeing the brown book with slight intrigue.

The man chuckles, waving a hand to dismiss whatever suspicion she has of this blank book. “It’s blank, my Lady, not at all associated with our studies. We’ve already established that you have the most outstanding proficiency in reading the common language at a young age.” He gestures to the tomes carefully placed around the edges of the long table. “I suspect that you also know how to write the basic letters?”

Aesira nods, feeling her cheeks burn at the compliment. “Mother made me learn. Aether would rather follow Father around Dragonstone.”

“A very wise decision made by the late Lady Aellara.” The light on Aesira’s face dims. Maester Orwyle quickly lowers his head in shame. The wound from Lady Targaryen’s death is still fresh for him to verbally make a reminder of it, so he hastily adds, “My deepest apologies, young Lady. I seemed to have let my mouth wander before my mind.” Maester Orwyle receives a tiny nod from the little girl. To uplift her spirits again, he presents an idea that will surely entice the little lady. “This blank journal will be your most trusted friend during your stay here.” He then places a writing utensil with a lead tip right beside the journal. “If something of interest catches your eye, you can write it here, my Lady. If you bear questions for our next tutoring sessions, you can write them down so you will never forget them.”

“Can I write anything here?”

At her question, he lets out a light laugh. Her age seeps through her words. “Yes, anything you want, my Lady.”

Aesira takes the journal in her hands. “How do I start?”

Maester Orwyle looks her in the eye. “You know your numbers, yes?” She nods, an answer that satisfies the learned man. “How about taking down the number of windows around the Keep? Or perhaps your thoughts regarding the paintings and pieces of art on the walls and in the atelier? I’m sure that by the end of the week, you will have more things to write about than when you started.”

She heeds his advice. On her journey back to the nursery, she stops in the middle of the hallway, the guards stationed at every chamber all watching her with curious eyes. Aesira, with the journal and writing utensil in hand, whirls around in a flurry of skirts and makes little stomps away from the nursery, the chuckles of the guards following her ear. Her styled hair bounces with each step she takes. Today, her handmaid decided on simple braids running down from either side of her head, never forgetting the powder blue ribbons preventing the braids from unravelling to match her day gown, which is a blue that is an homage to her mother’s House. It is a statement that has any gossipping Lady look her way, eyes flashing and lips showing fox grins, eager for the fabricated news to reach the Queen’s ears. Aesira doesn’t care; she simply wants to follow kind Maester Orwyle’s suggestion to keep herself from getting bored.

Opening the journal to its second page (she wrote her name on the first one), Aesira begins counting the different kinds of windows she passes by.

There aren’t that many tall windows that span from the ceiling to the floor but there are many small ones so high for her to reach that she even loses count. (Aesira only learned up till twenty, so anything beyond that, she is purely making everything up. She hopes Maester Orwyle won’t be that disappointed at her counting.) 

The paintings on the hallways, however, are not pleasing to look at.

It comes to a point where Aesira has to stop at one and try to make out why there are so many people connected to each other in one setting.

“A pretty, little Lady is not supposed to look at revolting things such as these.”

The Realm’s Delight.

Aesira received remarks from her Uncle Viserys (the old man insisted she calls him by a title that’s suited for a familial gathering of sorts, coupled with hearty laughs when she attempted to do it with flaming cheeks) about how his Heir would love to make the time of the day to meet her.

From her title alone, Princess Rhaenyra is truly a delight to look at. Pin-straight silver hair, not a strand out of place; clear yet amused lavender eyes; lips quirked to one side; and hands nonchalantly positioned behind her back as if she has all the time on her shoulders to stroll around the Keep. Aesira has to crane her neck to look the Heir in the eye because she’s tall like any of the adults here, not noticing that she is slowly losing her balance from doing so. A momentary flash of confusion takes place on Aesira’s face when Rhaenyra loses that casual, attention-grabbing posture of hers and instead gains a frantic one, the older girl reaching out an arm to wrap around Aesira’s little body. The princess catches her in time before she hits the ground.

“Careful, Lady Aesira,” Rhaenyra murmurs, the words still clear. The Kingsguard who was ordered to follow Rhaenyra moves a step, which causes her to glance at him while Aesira keeps on staring at the princess’s face. “It’s alright, Ser Criston, I managed to catch the little Lady in time.” The Heir takes one look at Aesira, never helping the laugh that bubbles in her throat. “Hello,” her voice is gentle, carefully pulling the young Lady back on her two feet.

Aesira blinks, wide eyes taking in the image of the King’s beloved daughter. Rhaenyra looks a lot like her own mother. Suddenly, a bout of uncharacteristic shyness covers Aesira’s body. “Hi,” she answers a little too meekly.

Rhaenyra goes back to being the princess everyone adores, posture and standing and all. In an unconscious thought, she slightly lifts her chin in the air, the amused smile on her face returning. “What has brought you to examine the paintings, my Lady?”

 “I wanted to write something in my journal.”

“Your journal?”

She nods, pressing the bound book on her chest as she does with Daemian. “Maester Orwyle gave me a blank journal to write in.” On that thought, she hasn’t held baby Daemian for the day. She wants to inhale that sweet babe scent that clings to his skin, letting the warmth of her baby brother preserve the memory of her mother. However, the very image of Rhaenyra with the halo of the Sun behind her back proves to be the closer memory of her mother to her little mind, the only difference is the smile they carry. Daemian may be Aellara’s last piece before she breathes her last breath but Rhaenyra is likened to the image of the Siren of the Vale. Aesira never meets Rhaenyra’s eyes while saying, “He told me to write anything I find interesting.”

Rhaenyra hums. “Have you ever stepped inside the castle’s atelier?”

“What?”

The smile on the older princess’s face is patient. It reminds Aesira of Maester Orwyle’s when he answers her questions. “It’s a place where they keep the most valued paintings in the Keep. I’m sure the masterpieces there are … more refined than the ones displayed on the walls. Do you want me to accompany you there? I have nothing else to occupy myself with nowadays.”

Shame burns Aesira’s little body when a guttural sound erupts from her stomach.

Even the Heir’s laughs are a delight to hear. “Never mind the atelier then.”

“I’m sorry, Princess,” she sheepishly says.

“Ser Criston?” Rhaenyra calls without looking away from Aesira. “Can I request a plate of—what would you like, Lady Aesira?”

“C-Can I please have honey cake?”

“An outstanding choice, my Lady,” Rhaenyra praises with a large smile. “Just a plate of the Keep’s finest honey cakes, Ser Criston. Have it delivered in the gardens, too?”

Ser Criston is taller than the princess ever is. Aesira has a hard time even leaning back to measure his height with her eyes. His white cloak is the most striking piece of clothing he wears, not the blinding glint of his armour or the large sword carefully strapped on his belt. Every movement he makes is guaranteed to have a noise. The blinding armour he has makes the slightest bit of sound when he looks down at Aesira, unsure whether he should follow the princess’s command despite the role he should be portraying — a gallant knight and not an errand boy. Ser Criston looks like her father’s knights, the difference lies in the colour of their cloaks; whilst Ser Criston has a pristine white, her father’s knights carry golden ones. (And they don’t look unapproachable like Ser Criston.) His hardened gaze quickly softens at Aesira’s wide eyes and like any other who dares breathe the same space as the Rogue’s daughter, Ser Criston melts.

“Of course, Princess, I’ll have a servant fetch you one immediately,” Ser Criston speaks with a timbre deeper than Aesira’s father.

“Have you ever been to the gardens, Lady Aesira?”

“When I accompany Princess Helaena, yes.”

At the mention of the younger princess, Rhaenyra’s expression changes.

Aesira continues, “But we only spend the time looking for bugs there.”

Rhaenyra begins walking to the gardens and Aesira has no choice but to follow in her little footsteps. “An interesting hobby, I suppose.”

“With my journal, I can write about them.”

“Good for you, my Lady.”

Aesira knows when someone is bothered by a subject. She’s seen it on her father’s face. She doesn’t like it at all because he looks scary and is ready to explode at any minute; then, Mother would cry and tell him to forget about hearing it and that she was content with whatever life they created in Dragonstone. Mother never forgot about telling Aesira about the lushness and vibrancy of the Vale, telling the tales of her days growing up in a way that made a younger Aesira long for a visit to her mother’s family and childhood home. Whenever that subject was brought up, it always ended with Father being angry and Mother apologising for planting the idea in the children’s minds. Aether would hug her to sleep as they pretended another argument was not sprouting from the next room, a verbal fight of knives that had every servant avoiding their quarters for the next nights to come. Aesira would ask her mother if Father permitted them to visit the Vale and all she got was a clipped smile and the words, “We won’t be visiting my home anytime soon, sweetling. Dragonstone is enough for us for the time being.”

She can see Rhaenyra possessing the same ticks Father has when he doesn’t like to talk about certain things. They become closed-off and stony—dismissive.

Aesira has no choice but to keep quiet and wordlessly follow Rhaenyra until they reach the beautiful gardens of the Keep, a piece of land in the Keep that appears to stretch on for miles in a large body of green foliage. The both of them choose a stone bench to settle on, not too far from the entrance, with Rhaenyra having to aid Aesira in fully sitting on the high chair. The silence is quite heavy, with the chirping birds and buzzing summer insects filling in what should have been a conversation between the cousins. The discomfiture stretches, so much so that Aesira opens the journal and starts drawing whatever she finds pretty. For a child of five name days, the drawings she makes are not for the faint of heart. All of them are poorly-made shapes that don’t resemble the blue roses around the gardens or the red exotic flowers a few feet away.

“There was a time I was curious about my cousins in Dragonstone,” Rhaenyra breaks the silence with a casual tone, both of her hands perching on her lap and body directed to face Aesira. “And about my aunt while I was growing up.

“Mother would tell me how great of a delight her little sister was, that despite her grace, she carried the fire brought by their mother. While Mother was serene, her little sister was a challenge to anyone who met her.” Rhaenyra smiles at her finally sharing her thoughts with the family of her late mother, a member so cherished that when Queen Aemma was on her deathbed, she was screaming for her younger sister (or so Rhaenyra was told). “I can count on my hand the number of times I met her but Aunt Aellara was—is still—the most beautiful woman in my memory, sharing the same title as my mother.” The two blondes with dragonrider blood in their veins look at each other. “Everybody always dimmed when my eyes fell on her. She was truly a sight blessed by the gods, both Old and New.

“And when she talked to me last year under the lone weirwood,” Rhaenyra shakes her head, “I find myself wishing I knew her way before the moments I can only remember. Uncle is lucky to have her by his side.”

Aesira watches as Rhaenyra covers her tiny hand with her larger palm.

“I’m truly sorry for what happened, my Lady.” The princess struggles to express her thoughts. “These words come from deep in me and I am ashamed that I never said it during the funeral.” Rhaenyra notices her pout, prompting her to place both of her hands around her little cousin’s.

“Mother told me about Aunt Aemma, too, and,” Aesira gulps, “little Baelon.” She welcomes the reassuring grip Rhaenyra made around her unsure hand.

“In these trying times, we come to connect with the people who share the same pain loss gave us.” A forced smile comes to pull on the Heir’s lips. The older girl leans forward as if to whisper a secret only for Aesira to hear. “Did you know, Baelon’s legacy lives on in you twins?”

“In Aether and I, Princess?”

“My name or cousin, if you please.”

Aesira makes a timid nod. “Cousin.”

“That’s better,” Rhaenyra proudly states. “And yes.” The intrigue in her little cousin’s eyes is present enough for the day and she finds herself excited for once in so many moons. “Uncle, your father, wanted to honour his unborn heir by following the Targaryen tradition of putting dragon eggs in one’s cradle.” She chooses to omit the part that Daemon committed such an act as a way to capture the attention of Viserys, with the prince reasoning that he needed the egg for his lady wife’s pregnancy, something that didn’t happen until moons later. That excitement in her eyes shouldn’t be extinguished; it was too precious. “I gave my permission to give this dragon egg to his unborn child and when news went around that there were two of you, another egg was procured and given to him. Father even forgave him for a moment; pregnancy is something to be celebrated in our family after all.”

 “I never knew that,” Aesira says in awe.

Rhaenyra lightly laughs, leaning a little. “Now you do.” She pauses. “I picked the dragon egg that went to Uncle’s possession thinking of a sister named Visenya; a second coming of Vhagar, I envisioned.”

“The largest dragon in the world.”

The Princess nods, never losing that proud grin. “Indeed. When I saw Aether’s dragon, I instantly knew Baelon’s legacy will live through you two. A dragon fit for an heir. If you don’t mind me asking, can you tell me about your dragon, cousin?”

Aesira now fully sits on the stone bench. Her eyes carry the stars that she ate and were now resting inside her chest while her mother birthed her to the world. She doesn’t notice Rhaenyra momentarily halts her breathing at the sight of her lilac eyes showing a glimpse of the entire night sky. Aesira Starborn is most excited for once in two moons. “Starfell is her name.” The journal is long forgotten on her lap. “She never stopped clinging to me when she hatched and it made Father happy. She grew bigger in five years as Father also said. Oh, cousin, she has the prettiest colour!” She then places both of her hands on her mouth, as if she said something remotely warranting a severed tongue. “Not that Syrax doesn’t have a pretty colour — I quite like gold.”

Rhaenyra can’t help but laugh. “I am not offended at all, cousin. I am a witness to how pretty Starfell is. She was there, yes?” At the funeral.

 The little Lady hums her agreement.

“Truly a dragon worthy of songs, I must say. It was like looking at a streak of a burning comet in the night sky. Maybe you can introduce her to me next time. I’ll make sure to ask Father for his permission to bring you to the dragonpit.”

“I’d like that, cousin.”

And when the long-awaited honey cakes arrive, Aesira can’t help but think that maybe Syrax will grow to like her Starfell as well.

“You have a shadow, my Lady,” a handmaid notes while following Aesira’s footsteps in the castle’s hallways. The woman slightly laughs at the doe-eyed confusion plastered on the young Lady’s face as she stops in her tracks before nodding at something behind them. “It’s been happening for a while now, probably days.”

“Is it Prince Aegon?”

The eldest son of King Viserys is sometimes endearing and most of the time annoying. 

If not for Aether pulling him away, he would most likely stick himself to Aesira’s side. He’s long overcome his moments of shyness. Gone is that Aegon who always turned away when she’s inside the nursery at the same time as him, needing Queen Alicent to push him out of his shell to communicate with his female cousin. How she misses that Aegon. He lasted for about three days. The entire week, Aegon gained the confidence that had him pulling out every chair during afternoon tea time (the children never drank tea, instead they are given freshly-squeezed fruit juice), tugging on her hand to invite her outside to watch the pretty flowers, picking out the most extravagant blossoms without regards to how his mother would feel and tucking them behind her ear, and always following her around the Keep. She’s kissed Aegon on the cheek way too many times and the boy never stops asking more from her, claiming her to be the most beautiful in the realm, making sure to scream it loudly every time Princess Rhaenyra makes her appearance around their vicinity. His own Realm’s Delight, he says.

(Rhaenyra stares at him as if he has lost his mind to the Stranger.)

It’s deemed adorable by her Uncle Viserys, laughing at how adamant Aegon is at showing his affections; but to her, it’s more reason to stop joining his games with Aether.

“I think it’s a rather surprising change, my Lady. You might want to see it for yourself.”

Aesira tilts her head to see around her handmaid's skirts, her styled hair flowing with the movement and creating a curtain that nearly touches the floor. One of the tapestries on the wall is protruding instead of falling straight to the ground. The lump is suspiciously squirming and there’s no mistaking the tiny feet visible in the small space at the end of the tapestry. Aesira instantly knows who it is.

“Prince Aemond?”

The lump on the tapestry jolts and Aesira can’t help but giggle.

This is truly a fresh breeze compared to the tempests Aegon brings.

Earlier, moments after waking up, Aether is already pulling Aegon to play and run around the Keep, leaving behind Aemond to stare at the older boys with Vhagar in between his hands. Being two name days old, Aegon and Aether both think it’s no fun to bring around the Queen’s favourite toddler; the babe will only prevent them from being too rowdy with their games. A silent agreement passes between the older boys that they will never include Aemond as much as he wants to be to avoid the wrath of the Queen. This leaves the little prince looking for another fixation to follow and that comes in the form of the princess-looking girl in the nursery aside from his sister. As usual, the prince would sit beside Helaena while she’s in search of her new insect friend; but once Aesira presents an opportunity of being another important figure in his life, Aemond instantly takes it.

Aemond peeks from his hiding spot, his cherubic cheeks dusted with a sweet touch of embarrassed rouge. Aegon’s toy Vhagar is absent from his hands. Rather, they find comfort in the hem of his vest. His fidgeting mirrors his older brother during their first meeting, down to the way that he doesn’t make eye contact. If given the chance, Aemond probably would have vanished with the tapestry’s depiction of a war between men and dragons.

Aesira straightens herself, running her hands over the length of her skirts. She glances at her handmaid, a silent question of permission to stray from their destination. The young woman shrugs with a smile, putting the decision on the little lady. Gathering the material of her dress in her hands, Aesira makes her way to the tapestry, where Aemond hides again with a squeak akin to a tiny mouse.

“Hello, my Prince,” Aesira greets with a smile reaching her eyes.

The darkness behind the tapestry doesn’t dull the indigo hues belonging to the prince. They only widen at her reaching out a bigger hand than his, the glow on his cheeks also brightening until he sheepishly looks away from her.

“Would you like to be my companion for the day, my Prince?”

Aemond nods, taking slow steps to place his hand in Aesira’s. Her smile rivals that of the sun as she gently pulls Aemond from the tapestry and into the hallways bathed in natural light. The change in scenery makes Aemond squint his eyes, very much like how Daemian did when he wakes up in the morning. The similarity warms Aesira’s heart, poking her brain to do something about her urges. So, following the instincts she gained from attending to her baby brother, she pats the top of Aemond’s hair, ruffling his blond hair (it’s soft to the touch!) before putting her hand on her skirts. The warmth spread through her entire body at the sight of Aemond pouting and mimicking her actions himself, patting himself on the head. Aesira won’t complain about having more little siblings to take care of — Aemond looks adorable enough to be considered as such. She knows Daemian won’t mind having another big sibling either.

“You can tell me all your favourite places, my Prince,” she says. “We never talked that much, you see.”

“Aemond,” the prince voices out, patting his chest with a determined look on his chubby face. “Me Aemond!”

“You want me to call you by your name?”

Aemond nods.

Aesira grins. “Alright! Lead the way, Aemond.”

It’s no surprise that Aemond brings her back to the nursery, wordlessly telling her that this is his favourite place in King’s Landing, most likely the only place he’s ever been to that he remembers. Still, Aesira smiles and follows him inside.

They make sure that they are near Daemian’s crib, the babe cooing at them every so often. The both of them are in their world at the moment, their well-protected bubble that nobody can cut through, not even with the swords the Kingsguard carry; Aether and Aegon are traipsing and wreaking havoc in the Keep while Helaena is discovering the small ecosystem the garden offers. Aesira never leaves her eyes on Aemond, the younger boy explaining the sentiments held by every single one of his toys. His most favourite, he relays, is the wooden dragon Aegon claims Aemond stole from him. He tells Aesira it’s his most prized possession because it came from his big brother, a fact that nobody knows except Aesira and tiny Daemian. He babbles made-up words yet Aesira listens, even indulging him in providing more narrative to the stories he reenacts with his toys. Aemond is a sweet boy, untouched by the vipers of the Keep and the whispers of the walls. Aesira vows to herself that since nobody is watching this boy flip over pebbles and rocks, she’s going to claim that position herself.

As she adjusts her voice to play as a soldier in battle, Aesira remembers being two name days old.

Dragonstone is a sad thing to remember.

However, its walls and everything around it holds her most precious memories to date.

Her oldest memory involves being strapped against her father’s chest, with Aether safely tucked on his back; the shaking she felt indicated that he was chuckling at the worried expression made by her mother. They would be safe with me, he said but not before running the back of his fingers on her mother’s cheek.

Aesira and Aether were two name days old when Daemon Targaryen took them on a ride on Caraxes.

She remembers how it felt — the clouds right at her small hands, the delightful laughs released by her father, the confusion and wonder on her face that she was not on the ground but flying to the edge of the world. She remembers looking up at him while the light touches his short hair and she remembers him placing a tender kiss on the crown of her head. Of course, Aether was never forgotten because Daemon shifted his head so that the tip of his nose touched the boy’s ruffled hair. What she truly feels to this day was her mother’s embrace the moment Caraxes landed and she was off her father’s chest, every part of her face was touched by her mother’s lips.

“I told you they'll be back on the ground, darling wife,” her father said.

Her mother kept kissing her face, her laughs even making her mother’s handmaids smile. “You never fail to give me a fright, husband.”

“Sira?”

Aesira looks up to meet Aemond’s chubby face. “Yes, Aemond?”

“Don’t cry.”

“Huh?”

Aemond lifts an arm, an action that requires all of his physicality, being a tiny human being. He places the entirety of his palm on the apple of her cheek. He looks near in tears. “Sira sad?” comes his wobbly voice.

At the question, Aesira hiccups a little sob.

Aemond instantly forgets his toys, waddling over to his companion’s side and enveloping her in the tightest hug she received in her lifetime. They are standing at the same height — Aesira still sitting with her skirt surrounding her legs and Aemond maintaining his balance in front of her.

“I don’t want Sira sad,” Aemond says, squeezing his eyelids shut.

She wraps her arms around him. “I’m not sad, Aemond.”

“Sira crying.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m sad.”

Aemond makes a sound of disagreement, burying himself more into her.

“Then why?”

“I just remembered something.”

The door to the nursery opens with a flourish.

“Aemond, she’s my princess! Get away from her!”

“We’re back, Sira!”

Aesira then feels another hug coming from behind her. She detects the faint smell of the sun and grass on the person’s clothes. On her other shoulder is Aegon closing his eyes as tightly as Aemond, his hug never including Aemond and is solely around her torso and only her. She doesn’t even know why Aegon starts claiming her as his princess when his sister is one. (Maybe it was because she agreed to play as the maiden when he and Aether took the roles of knights on a journey to find the most beautiful princess hidden among the bushes of the garden.) Growing up as the second prince’s daughter, she’s subjected to the title of a lady, never a princess despite her father being a prince. Her mother explained that it was because of a thing called succession, a word she never understood. But even as the people around her affectionately added her name with the title of Lady, her father never did; he always called her his little princess.

“Prince Aegon, I’m not a princess.”

Aegon looks offended as a child his age can be. “You are.”

“Your sister is the princess.” She nods at a standing Helaena carrying something in her palms. The girl is awfully still, her eyes wide and her lips mouthing words nobody can hear. Aesira came to find out that Helaena is a speaker of riddles, which ached her brain trying to comprehend. The younger girl’s words left her scratching her head in an attempt to decipher what the different colours of the loom meant. She will have to write everything Helaena says in her new journal. “I’m a lady, my Prince.”

“Well, you’re prettier.”

She frowns. “That’s rude, Prince Aegon. Princess Helaena is pretty.”

“Whatever you say,” Aegon harrumphs. “Call me Aegon.”

“But that—”

“Aegon.”

“Alright.”

“Say it.”

“Aeg—”

Aether makes himself known. “You’re both going to hurt her,” he says, referring to the princes. Ever the dutiful big brother of two, he pulls Aemond with all his might, the toddler complaining with flailing arms as he’s dragged on the floor. Aether doesn’t pay attention to the squawks of a scandalised surprise coming from the wetnurses stationed inside the nursery. They are most likely looking over their shoulder, mindful of the passersby that can whisper to the ears of the Queen about how his sons are being roughly handled by the new wards. Even after successfully taking Aemond and promising him another round of dragons and knights (which calms him down a little and doesn’t erase the pout on his lips), Aether turns around and sighs. Aegon still doesn’t let Aesira go, the former swaying the latter in an imaginary tune only he hears, his smile showcasing how happy he is after days of her avoiding him and begging for her attention. “Aegon.”

“No.”

“I don’t want my sister hurt.”

“I’m not hurting her.”

Aether stomps one of his feet. “Yes, you are!”

Aegon doesn’t respond and instead, pulls Aesira more to him.

“You’re acting like a clingy creature from Essos! And you know what they look like?”

“What?”

“Ugly.”

“Aesira, your brother is being mean!”

Aether rolls his eyes. “Let. Her. Go.”

“Never. Aesira likes it when I hug her.”

The younger blond boy glances at her for confirmation. Aesira’s face says it all. So, Aether firmly plants his feet on the floor and places both of his fists on his hips.

The girl in Aegon’s embrace remembers her father doing it whenever he catches Aether rolling on the dirt as a way of shirking his sessions with the Maesters or when she stays up late pretending to read one of the tomes underneath her bed covers like one of those studious scholars (the glow of the lantern gave her away). She drops her gaze to the rugs protecting the children from injuries. The image of her father on her older brother sets a gnawing feeling that is more discomforting than Aegon’s endless hug. “It’s alright, Aether. Aegon is harmless.” Her shoulders loosen when Aether stops looking like their disappointed father. To further placate her brother, Aesira covers Aegon’s arms with hers, hugging him in this position. “He’s warm.”

“See, Aether! She likes me!” Elated at the thought, Aegon presses a large kiss on Aesira’s cherubic cheek. “I like you, too, Sira.”

Aether pouts. “That’s not what she said, Aegon.” He stops glaring at Aegon when Helaena moves from her spot (she’s still standing while everything falls into chaos) to sit beside Aesira, her skirt forming a pitched tent before deflating around her. “Princess?”

The younger girl ignores the boys and instead directly looks at Aesira alone. “I found this, Sira. I think you’ll like it.”

Helaena finally presents what she has been hiding in her hands.

Aether laughs as Aegon flings himself away from the two girls with a squeal.

“You did it, Princess!”

Cradled in Helaena’s hand are three tiny red bugs with black dots. They can be pinched with the tiniest of forces but with the way Helaena lets them roam on her skin, Aesira can tell they are safe to explore on this new terrain. Aesira has never seen such creatures even in Dragonstone, having chosen to spend most of her days inside the nursery and trying to make sense of the Maester’s words.

Aesira gasps, leaning close to the princess. “What are they?”

“I don’t know. I’m asking the Maesters.”

She tilts her head. “They’re adorable.”

Helaena nods, her attention never leaving the bugs crawling on her palm. “One for each of you, Aether, and Daemian.” The two girls watch the three insects interact with one another. Conversations pass between their small heads, their bodies huddling close together in a semblance of comfort. Seconds pass in the nursery’s timepiece and one of the red insects spreads its shell-like body — its fluttering wings leading it away from Helaena’s palms and into the air. The two children don’t have the time to express their sadness over the departing bug since a second followed the first. And then there was one. Helaena slowly raises her hands to closer inspect the lone bug with teary eyes. “No, she’s all alone now.”

The princess never fails to make Aesira wonder. Helaena is the prettiest girl Aesira has never seen. There are countless pretty girls in Dragonstone, her mother’s handmaidens all belong to that category. (Her mother is beautiful according to the songs; pretty is not the perfect word for the Siren of the Vale — the woman who brought men to her knees and who softened the Rogue Prince until she was killed by his love.) But the Queen’s only daughter holds a certain light to her. It’s subdued, not blinding like Aegon’s or everlasting like her mother’s, which calls for Aesira’s attention. If she’s not attending to Daemian or studying with the Maesters, Aesira is found with Helaena. It’s perfect because she wants a little sister to coddle and dote on. Helaena is a precious thing, so Aesira doesn’t understand why Aegon complains about her being creepy. There’s nothing creepy with the princess’s riddles or her blooming love for nature — the girl is even crying over how the red bug is going to be lonely now.

Letting Aether’s teasing and Aegon’s teary rebuttals fly over her head, Aesira raises a hand and carefully pats Helaena’s head.

The younger girl jumps at the contact but she doesn’t flinch away. Aesira smiles, “There, there. The red bug will join her friends later. Don’t be sad, Princess.”

Helaena leans her head to capture more of her hand’s warmth. The action reminds Aesira of the puppies running around one of the villages in Dragonstone. She begged her father to carry one back but she was declined by him with the words that the beasts were not worthy of a god carrying dragonrider blood in her veins, that if she wanted to treat something as a companion, it would be her newly-hatched dragon. The puppy she found had an almost-white shade in its gold fur. With Helaena’s hair, it’s not hard to imagine an adorable puppy on her trying to ask for more pats on the head. Aesira giggles and gives the princess much-needed pats.

“She won’t join them,” Helaena replies, now looking down at the roaming red insect.

“Oh?”

“Isolation welcomes another soul; a union bathed in gold just as the stars foretold.”

Another one of Helaena’s riddles.

Aesira’s mouth opens to address it but her voice never comes out as Aegon regains his bearings after a disgusted and terrified spiral of seeing the bugs. “You’re doing it again, Hel!” Now, as the eldest brother of three, he stomps in between Aesira and Helaena, but he isn’t as dutiful as Aether. Rather than give his sister space to breathe, he closes in like a hawk watching its prey, beak ready to hurl insults that will make his little sister cower. “You have to stop it. It’s weird and it’s creeping people out!”

A quick glance is exchanged between the twins.

“Aegon, I quite like it when the princess says her riddles,” Aesira supplies, resting a hand around his wrist.

Aegon looks back at her, conflict clear on his face. He flickers his contemptuous gaze on an unfazed Helaena and his resolve cracks. If his sister doesn’t appear to listen to a word he says, it won’t be worth it. He scoffs at Aether who flashes a contented gesture of a thumb in the air, a sign of a job well-done. The hand enclosing his wrist tugs on his hand, fingers entwined and magnetic as he follows Aesira pulling him to sit on the floor, shoulders shy of touching one another.

Cornflowers and lilacs are beautiful once woven together.

Staring deeply at the pair of joined hands, Helaena echoes, “Isolation welcomes another soul; a union bathed in gold just as the stars foretold.”

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[aokoaoi]

◗ pairing's :: ao'nung x fem!reader.

◗ warning's :: avatar the way of water spoilers. mentions of death. mentions of murder. lazy writingD:. grammar/spelling errors.

◗author's note :: only one post today, sorry everyone! i got busy earlier about school, and only had time to write this night<\3.

Your ears twitched at the sound of knuckles knocking against the marui pod, and your family immediately turned to the source of the sound. You looked up to see Ao'nung leaning over the entrance, his torso showing but his body hidden behind your home.

Rotxo peeks behind his friends shoulder, giving a shy look as he immediately covers back when he saw your parents scary gazes. You tilted your head at them slightly, glancing at your parents to see their reactions.

Ao'nung gestures for you, but you hesitantly stood up. You looked at your mother for permission, ears drooping against your hair as you were scared what she would think. Fortunately, she grants you permission to speak to the boy.

Hastily standing up, you walked to his direction. Looking at him expectantly, brows raised as you awaited his words. Rotxo shows himself from behind the boy, giving you a silly smile.

"What is it?" You questioned, giving a wary glance at your family. Your father shakes his head with a sigh, and your two brothers looked at you with a look of disbelief.

"Rotxo and i are gonna take a swim in the reef, do you wanna come?" He responds to your question, noticing your cautious glancing to your family. You slightly winced at his question, shaking your head.

"No, not today unfortunately. I'm grounded." You pursed your lips into a thin line, seemingly upset that you had to get reminded of that fact. Ao'nung let's out a sound of realization, nodding his head understandingly.

"But you didn't do anything." Rotxo perked up, slightly frowning. You only shrugged at his words, "Big sister responsibilities, yknow?"

"Maybe next time? When you're not grounded?" Ao'nung asks again, hopeful of your answer. You paused for a while, thinking about his offer. Eventually, you agreed.

"Alright. But any more trouble, and you two probably won't see me ever again." The two nodded their head timidly at your words. Rotxo definitely didn't want you to be in trouble again.

You bob your head at them slightly, "Now scram," You wave them off, shooing them away. Ao'nung waves at you, while Rotxo was.. being his usual silly self. "Don't miss us too much!" The short boy yelled, earning a smack from the back of the head by Ao'nung.

You snickered at their duality, returning back inside your families marui. You sit back down next to your mother, helping her with the stuff she said she doesn't need helping. Lo'ak suddenly shoves himself near you, looking at you with wide eyes.

"You and Ao'nung? What has gotten into you?" He slightly hissed through his teeth. You gave him a warning glare, feeling embarrassed as your mother was just beside you.

"Did he brainwash you..? Oh no, my poor sister." He cooes, shaking his head.

"Shut it, Lo'ak." You shoved him away, leaving him toppling over Kiri as she yelped in annoyance. You watched as Kiri scolds the poor boy from disturbing her time with Tuktirey, while the boy desperately tried to defend himself.

"New friend?" Your mother perked up, catching your attention. You only hummed as an agreement to her words, and she looked at you suspiciously.

"He's a friend, mama." You whined, leaning against her as she slightly grins at your words. "You remind me a lot about myself when i was just eighteen.. and that was when i met your father." She striked back, looking down at you as you continued to let out embarrassed noises.

"Don't." You pouted, looking at her with upset puppy eyes.

"I also used to hate your father." She continued, leaving you to deal with her torture. Your father from the side only shake his head, displeased by the scene as Lo'ak beside him was also agreeing this his father's distaste.

"My spirit sister, and her baby have been murdered by the sky people!" You watched as Ronal yell out the death of her spirit sister with glistening eyes, a hand coming to your mouth.

Neteyam keeps you close to him as he looked around the area, seeing the metkayina clan lift up their spears while they let out yelps of fierce cries.

"This war has come to us. We knew about this hunting of our tulkun people, but it was over the horizon, far away." The Olo'eyktan thumps his spear on the ground, "Now, it is here!" He fiercely announced.

The clan let's out vicious growls as they did the pukana. Your heart beats against your chest at the words of the Olo'eyktan. You have seen what those demons can do, as they have set your clans entire home on fire, you can vividly remember the memory as it was engraved into your brain ever since.

"You've gotta understand how the sky people think!," your father immediately steps in, catching the rest of the clans attention, as well as yours. "They don't care about the great balance."

A Metkayina man let's out an outraged yell, but you were too focused on your father to properly understand what he said.

"Listen— listen to him!" Neteyam grits out, his brows furrowed.

"The sky people are not gonna stop," Your father puts his hands up slightly, looking eyes wide at the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk in front of him. "This is only the beginning. You gotta tell your Tulkun's to leave!" He points at the ocean, "You gotta tell them to go far away!"

The Tsahìk looks at him furiously. "Leave?," She starts, "You live among us, and you learned nothing!" She huffed. Your ears twitched at her words, and you hear another Metkayina man yell out.

"We will fight to protect our brothers and sisters!" He voiced out, raising his spear as he thumbs a fist on his chest. "No, no, no! If you attack. If you fight. Then they will destroy you!" Your father intervened.

"They will destroy everything that you love!"

The clan let's out yelps of cries at his words, fueling the fierce fire in them even farther. Your ears silenced the sound around you as your eyes scanned the people surrounding you. It was horrible to see that this fight has reached the people who didn't have anything to do with it, and now someone has to suffer because of the humans actions.

You truly felt devastated for the outcomes. You wished this wasn't what your father's intentions would result. You wished that those demons would just leave your precious pandora alone. You thought your family would be safe here, away from the forest.

But no. Those demons always have a way to come crawling right back.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt the device used on the Tulkun leave your hand. You snapped your attention back to the scene, watching as your father now stood at the center, the device being raised up high. The crowd was silenced by his actions, watching as he spun it around to let everyone see.

"You tell the Tulkun's, that of they're hit by one of these, they are marked for death." He sighed. "Saving their lives, that's all that matters. Right?" His voice slightly breaks, and you see Tsireya slowly and slight nod at your father's words.

"Saving your family." He rasps. The clan stays silent as they thought at your father's words. The Olo'eyktan turns around to face his mate, Ronal. She breathes in deeply, holding her mate's arm with both her hands as he stands up to where your father stood.

"Tell the Tulkun." He states. Ronal sighs, looking at the clan. "Go. Go!" She rushes them.

You watched as Neteyam was distracted by something, but then he immediately leaves your side. Your hand slipped off his hold as he walked away, catching you off guard. "Neteyam—?" You follow him.

Your eyes moved in front of him, and you see as Lo'ak was running away. Finally catching up to what your brother was doing, you stayed silent and decided to follow him.

Lo'ak does a double take as he catches the sight of Neteyam, but then was even more caught off guard when you showed yourself from behind the tall boy. "No way you're going anywhere, baby brother." Neteyam calls out, walking towards the boy.

"I have to warn Payakan about the pingers(?)"

Neteyam waves a hand, gesturing it as a way of refusing. "No. You've got to keep your skxawng ass here." Neteyam responds.

"He's outcast, there's no other way to warn him but me." Lo'ak stands his point, really wanting to warn his bonded Tulkun. Neteyam was now looming over the younger boy, obviously also gonna talk about more.

"Bro," he placed a hand on top of Lo'ak's head before continuing, "Why do you have to make things so hard?" He slightly teased. Lo'ak shoved the boys hand away, triggered by his words.

You stood slightly behind Neteyam as you silently watched the scene, but your attention was on the stubborn young boy.

"No," here he goes. "You mean why can't I be the perfect son like you." Lo'ak spat back. Neteyam pursed his lips, his ears twitching as he nods his head, slightly stepping away. You glared as Lo'ak as the words came out of his mouth.

"Lo'ak!"

Your hiss fell on to deaf ears as he continued to speak of your brother. "Well I'm not you! Okay?" Lo'ak steps back as Neteyam nears him as the words escaped his mouth. Neteyam glared at his brother, "I'm not you. He's my brother, I'm going." He says one last time before taking his leave.

You glanced at Neteyam, feeling slightly guilty for your brother as you couldn't do anything to stop Lo'ak. Even though his words weren't directed at you, you felt awful for the way he treats his older brother.

At the corner of your eye, you see three individuals nearing you and your two brothers. You see Tsireya call out for your brother, hoisting herself up onto the woven mats. Lo'ak pulls his hand away from Neteyam's hold, glancing at the three who've just arrived before he dives into the water.

"Lo'ak! Fucking idiot—" You cussed out, srunching your nose as you tucked for your Ilu, whistling as you see her swim under the woven material. As you see her reveal herself, you dived down into the water, holding the handle as you heard more splashing from behind you.

Your Ilu swims out of the water as you tried to steady your breathing, and you see Kiri at the corner of your eye. "Sister!" Tuktirey exclaimed from behind Kiri. Your harshly flicked your hair off your cheek as it was stuck, glancing behind you as you saw Neteyam.

"Lo'ak's going to find Payakan." He says before diving back down, inhaling sharply. You glanced at Kiri unsurely, but before you went back down you looked at Tuktirey. "Don't bring Tuk."

You didn't hear her respond as you already dove into the water, following close to Neteyam as he was the one to see where Lo'ak was going.

You watched as Lo'ak tried to pull out the beeping device from a short distance, your older brother jumping onto the Tulkun's back as he tried to help. You fidgeted as you watched a boat nearing your group and the Tulkun, your breathing turning ragged as you were nervous of what's going to happen.

"Hurry, you two!" You hissed nervously, jumping onto the Tulkun's back as well to help. "Don't move it around like that! Pull it out, dont—" You let out an annoyed groan as Lo'ak stopped attempting to pull the beeping device.

"Lo'ak, call dad. Call dad!" Neteyam rushed the boy. Lo'ak nods his head, rushing further up Payakan's back as he pressed on the throat comms around his neck. You pressed on your the earpiece, looking at Lo'ak as you listened into their conversation.

Your eyes wandered at the boat. You tail wraps itself around your leg as you bit your lip. You watched as Ao'nung wraps a rope around the device, watching your brother as he was wrapping the other end around his ilu. The Ilu starts swimming forward, and you crouched down at the device, holding it roughly.

"Together! Pull it together at the count of three!" You yelled to catch their attention. They all nod at you, gripping the device tightly with their hands as Tsireya used her feet. "One, two, three, pull—!"

Rotxo let's out a rough yell as you grunted, bumping into Ao'nung as the device was finally pulled out. You swim to your Ilu, gesturing at her to follow the rest of the group as you were behind them.

You all settled into the tall, thick leaves of the waters, looking up at the boats above the water. Your eyes catches the sight of submarines in the water, and you turned at the group, signing then to swim off.

You tightly held on your Ilu's handle, trying to avoid the submarines gaining on your tails. You raised your arm in front of your face as the leaves start hitting your body, looking in front of you. Swiftly turning your Ilu to avoid the crab submarine that was in front of your group, barely dodging the robotic arm reaching at your Ilu.

Ditching your Ilu, you weakly attempted to stray away the crab that was chasing you, hiding into one of the big leaves until your reached a large pod that had a pocket for you to breath into. You hear another splash behind you, making you turn as you saw Ao'nung.

Letting out a breath of relief, you outstretched an arm at his cheek as you tried to steady your breathing. "Are you alright?" You questioned. The boy only nods, gulping water that went into his mouth at your actions.

You both tried to catch your breath in silence as you observed the lights around you, raising your legs up in case they could see it from underwater.

"Your sister— Tuktirey, Lo'ak, and Tsireya was captured." Ao'nung speaks up after catching his breath. Your ears twitched at his words, snapping your attention at him. "Where are they?"

He only shrugged at your question, and you let out a frustrated sound. You looked down in the water, and as if Ao'nung read your mind, he tried to intervene.

"Don't go."

"They're my siblings, Ao'nung. I have to fight." He shakes his head at your words, practically glaring at you for wanting to save your siblings. "Don't step in for the adults. It's dangerous for you out there." He grits out, grasping your forearm as he noticed you hesitantly trying to leave.

You bit your lip, looking away. "Ao'nung.." You desperately called his name. You wanted to save your siblings, and as well as his sister. You were raised and trained to be a fighter after all, but thise fight was far different than what you were trained for.

"Stay with me. please." He pleads.

You clenched your jaw, but nods at his pleas. "But first, we hunt for those damn crabs." You pointed a finger at him, and he holds a hand up, "Alright."

You tucced for your Ilu once again as Ao'nung does the same. You both count at the same time before disappearing into the water, holding eachothers hands as you did so. You swim towards your Ilu, grasping at her handle as your other hand made the bond. You signed at Ao'nung to follow you, and he obediently does so.

You both wove your ways through the large kelps. After a few minutes, you found your way out of the water kelped forest, and saw Kiri as well as Rotxo. The sight of a human coming out of the submarine catches your attention, and you grit your teeth as you began swimming towards it at full speed.

The teeth of your Ilu wrapped around the man's head, dragging him out of the submarine as you can faintly hear him scream into the water before he gets brutally crushed. The other man who was trying to get out of the water gets choked by the tentacles of the water flora, and you awed at the sight Kiri had made.

The glowing spots on her face dims, and you gestured her to come over. She swims over at you, holding tightly around your waist as you followed Ao'nung and Rotxo away from the bloodied scene you created, going up at the surface.

And then Kiri got taken away right after you all reached the surface. Just perfect.

© aokoaoi.

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Awake

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

PART SEVEN

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 5.4k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART SIX | MASTERLIST | FINALE

[THIS SERIES WILL CONTAIN INACCURATE MEDICAL CONDITIONS. I HAVE CERTAINLY MADE THIS DISEASE UP & DO NOT CLAIM ANY OF IT TO BE ACCURATE. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. 18+. MINORS DNFI]

a reminder that Rafe uses the alias Adrian in this story

You had hardly slept a wink all week.

Edwards, the P.I. your parents had hired, had been looking into Rafe all week following your admission of his texting you. You had sat on it for a day, contemplating if you wanted your family to take care of it or if you wanted to take care of it yourself. But you had to be braver than the old you, the old you that never peeped a word. So, you showed Lillie the text & the dominoes fell from there.

Unfortunately, Edwards found nothing. Or at least everything he needed to find was being well hidden by the Cameron’s.

“Can’t believe that snake, Ward. Protecting his piece of shit son.” Your dad spit to your mother as they failed to whisper to one another in the kitchen. You & Lillie sat in the adjoining sitting room, Edwards across from you as he strolled while on the phone.

You could see the panic in the room: your mom casting worried glances in your direction every few minutes, your dad trying to contain his rage as he pictured his daughter being hurt again, Lillie as she splayed a hand on your upper back in comfort—though you didn’t need it, even Edwards, who appeared to treat this job closer to the heart since he refused to give up until you were safe. There was panic & fear all around you. Yet you never felt a bit of it.

You knew you had done the right thing by telling your family about the text, but personally you hadn’t felt in any true danger. You knew it stemmed from your inability to recall your previous life, so you couldn’t understand their panic & fear since you—this you—hadn’t experienced that panic & fear yourself like the old you had when with Rafe.

It was another burdening case of imposter syndrome. This was her life, not yours. It was her family & friends who were scared, not yours. If it was her taking over your body right now, she likely would be crying, pleading to the universe to please take Rafe away from her forever. But you sat there, numb & removed from the whole situation.

Edwards hung up the phone, glancing quickly at you before moving towards your parents in the kitchen.

“No luck.” He told them. They shared displeased reactions.

“I shouldn’t be surprised. What do we do then?” Your father asked, desperate for a way to keep you safe.

Edwards sighed, “Until I know exactly where that kid is, I can’t offer any guaranteed safety measures. His punk of a dad has a lot of people in his pocket, a lot of people on this island who will protect that kid despite what they know. And in spite of all that,” Edwards flicked a look in your direction of his shoulder, “she’s still safest here on the island. With all of you.”

“Then what if we all left?” Lillie spoke up from beside you, “If we go with her, if we all leave, then she’ll stay safe, right?”

Edwards shrugged, “In a way, yes, but my jurisdiction only goes so far. You want my best advice? Stay. Until I find him, & I will. It’ll just be tougher.”

“But doesn’t Ward’s authority only go so far, too?” You found yourself surprised at the sound of your own voice.

“Perhaps.” Edwards nodded, “But money always goes further. Money I certainly don’t have. Money your parents do have, but their influence is not nearly as strong as Ward’s.”

“So I’m a sitting duck.” You replied dully, “Just waiting for him to stroll in & take me whenever.”

“That’s never going to happen, _____.” Your dad implored, his eyes set hard & wide, “I’ll kill that kid myself if he comes within a mile of this house.”

Your mother placed a hand on your dad’s arm, saying his name to calm him, “He won’t come near her.”

Edwards sighed again, though this was seemed to suggest he had something further upsetting to add, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

All four of you listened intently as he spoke.

“Ward could send that kid anywhere, really. And I imagine, like you, he’s tried himself to get him off her back, albeit for more selfish name-saving reasons, however, I’m sure he’s exhausted those efforts as well. If I had any guess, which I think I have a good idea considering how tight-lipped everyone on this island are being, I imagine he’s here, on the island, close.”

A weakened shudder passed through you, hardly making you worried, but the fact of the matter still unsettled you.

“And if he is here, _____ is right. He’s probably being smart about it, playing the long game.”

“So then we leave!” Lillie added again, her frustration at the situation growing for everyone involved.

“And he would follow.” Edwards responded, “If this kid is anything like you’ve said he is, like he’s proven to be by following your daughter hundreds of miles away, no distance will stop him. And with his daddy’s money, he’ll go for as long as he wants.”

“So we do nothing.” Your dad was exasperated, fed up with the inability to really do anything.

“You stay alert. Stay with her.” Edwards pointed at you, “Don’t just let anyone come & go from this household. You don’t know who you can trust.”

“What about you?” You questioned, frowning at Edwards, “If Ward has so much money & can pay off anyone, how do we know he hasn’t done the same to you. How do we know that we can trust you? That you’re not here just to keep tabs on me for him.”

Edwards nodded in understanding, “You’re right. You don’t know that.” He addressed your parents, “But unlike a lot of people on this island, I have standards, morals. And unfortunately, my word on that is going to have to do.”

A beat of silence followed, everyone in the room then suddenly looking at Edwards as if he was a bad guy too. You needed your family to be paranoid. If everyone wanted Rafe gone for good, they needed to know exactly who they could trust.

Edwards cleared his throat, raising his phone towards your parents, “My phone is on if you ever hear any more information. I have her phone tapped in case the Cameron kid makes more attempts at contacting her. I got some of the best people working on this. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, Edwards.” Your mother said, “We really do appreciate your dedication.”

“I had a daughter once.” He forced a small smile, casting you one more solemn look, “Okay, I’ll come by again tomorrow evening. Be safe, now.”

Your dad walked Edwards to the door while your mom joined you & Lillie in the sitting room.

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart.” Your mom assured.

But you didn’t need it. You felt… fine. But you nodded anyway, not wanting to alarm your family that you were wholly unbothered. Sure, you were concerned for them because they were concerned for you, but you weren’t worried about yourself. Again, because it wasn’t you. This wasn’t your life, this was life you woke up to, that you were forced into.

“We’ll find him, _____.” Lillie rubbed your arm. You forced a smile, wanting to assure her even though you didn’t believe the words coming out of your own mouth, “I know.”

It was Christmas.

A couple weeks had passed since you last got any updates about Rafe. Edwards reported the same thing every day: nowhere to be found, no one talking. It was the same thing every single time.

Lillie & your parents remained vigilant though. You hadn’t been alone once since you brought to their attention that Rafe had messaged you. Even when you showered, Lillie lied on your bed, talking to you about normal stuff through the door.

Fuck, you wanted to kill for some alone time. Even if it meant risking Rafe appearing out of the darkness & stealing you away. Part of you even entertained the idea, just so you could stop being watched every second of every day.

“Is Jozef’s work still having that work party for New Years?” You questioned Lillie, meeting her eyes in the reflection of your vanity mirror.

“I think so, yeah. His bosses boss splurged this year & they’re treating the staff to a private beach party.” She shared.

“Are you going as his date?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I was thinking you & I would hang that night.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing what she was really saying: I’m watching you that night since your parents will be out of town.

“Lil. I can handle one night on my own.”

“Fuck that.” She spit, rolling off your bed to join you at the vanity. You were struggling putting your hair up into an elegant up-do. Your parents were hosting a small Christmas dinner for close friends—all of whom were screened by Edwards before being invited.

“Let me help.” Lil placed a bobby pin between her full lips as she gently threaded your hair between her fingers.

“Then I’ll go with you.” You returned to the conversation at hand. Honestly, you were just desperate to do anything. Much like your life at the beginning of your rebirth, you were either sleeping in your room during the day or being vegetative & alone at night—even if Lil slept in bed with you. It was getting to be too much. Edwards himself said that there still hasn’t been any update or progress in finding Rafe, plus he hasn’t messaged you once since the first time. It was time your family began to loosen the reigns a bit.

“I don’t know, _____.” Lillie finished with your hair, catching your eyes in the mirror, “I promised your parents I would spend the night with you while they’re gone.”

“Ugh, Lil, c’mon.” You gritted through your teeth, “The only thing keeping from the outside world is you guys, not Rafe. It’s been weeks, one night will be fine, & honestly, it may even turn something up if you let me come with you.”

“Even more reason for us not to do it!” She exclaimed, returning to the edge of your bed.

You turned in your seat to face her, “Seriously? You guys can’t do this forever. I can’t be kept on lockdown forever. At some point, you guys are gonna have to back off, & let me live, go out into the fucking world. It’s getting old really quick.”

Lillie remained silent, pondering what you said, but it wasn’t enough. You could tell that she wasn’t getting convinced by anything you were saying.

“Think about it,” You began, “You keep someone from something they really want & eventually they’ll sneak anything behind your back to get it. And guess how often cases like that town out?”

Lillie narrowed her eyes at you, “You’re not gonna change my mind.”

“So then you want me to lie to you? Sneak around? Hmm?”

She inhaled sharply, considering your argument more finely this time. She clicked her tongue, shaking her head, “Maybe. And that’s all I’ll say for now. I’ll talk to your parents about it tonight at dinner.”

You scoffed but shrugged, “Fine. At least it’s something.”

Lillie continued staring at you. You raised your brows, “Will you stop? I’m not weak like her, okay?”

“She wasn’t weak.” Lillie’s voice softened at your insult, “But she did trust the wrong person for too long. And I won’t let you down like he did. I won’t let you down like I did.”

Your hardened heart softened at that, recalling the time she told you about your relationship with Rafe back in your bedroom in the city.

“I’m sorry, Lil.”

She mustered up a smile, shaking her head, “Then just please trust me, okay? I’ll talk to your parents. I don’t want you to feel trapped, let alone by us.”

You nodded your head, a small smile appearing on your face, “Thank you. I promise, if they say yes, the night will be perfect. No Rafe or trouble in sight.”

“Yeah,” She half-laughed unconvinced, “we’ll see about that.”

It was a little past six in the evening when you, Lillie, & Jozef arrived at your parents’ house for dinner. You had gotten up much earlier than usual to get ready so you were still yawning while you & Lil set the table.

Your mother seemed in a relatively good mood, under the circumstances. In the two years that you had to re-learn her, you learned very early on that she was a social butterfly. Kildare Island & it’s residents were very much her kind of people, especially the women. All of them cared much too deeply about the finer things in life like status, clothing, wine, etc. But since reality came knocking on your door, she began to realize that the finer things in life was her family, your well-being, & spending more time being a present mother. Still though, you could see how excited she was about this dinner.

You sat next to your father who sat at one end of the table. The guests that came were mostly your mother’s friends, your dad not open enough yet to trust anyone in his inner circle. Your mother sat at the other end, speaking jovially so everyone at the table was tuned in to her.

When the guests arrived you were anticipating the usual: stares, whispers, passive aggressive questions about your condition. But much to your surprise, none of them came. They all greeted you warmly. You didn’t care to remember any of their names, even if there was only four of them. You were just relieved to have other people around that wasn’t just your family & friends.

As your mother continued to talk animatedly, you cast a look at your father. He sat quietly, his elbows on the table with his hands covering most of his mouth. His eyes stared aimlessly at the tablecloth. You knew he was troubled with your situation. You wanted to comfort him, tell him he had nothing to worry about. But you couldn’t promise that, you weren’t even sure you could convince him with a fake smile. So, you let him carry on in his quiet solitude.

Lil bumped your shoulder, stealing your attention, “You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.” You nodded, using your fork to pick around the food on the plate before you, “Fine.”

She didn’t look convinced but she didn’t push. Jozef, who sat across from you, managed to pull your father out of his deep-thoughts, pulling him into a trivial conversation about the country club where he worked. You didn’t listen long, instead allowing your own thoughts to stray to Rafe Cameron.

You wished you could remember him. Even if it was a shitty, horrible, traumatic experience, you wanted to remember it. You felt a desperate need to understand this situation deeper. After all, you had tried to kill yourself because of it, or at least she had tried to kill herself. She was that scared, that ready to be rid of him that she would throw herself into an ocean with 20ft waves, all to escape him.

It was a healthy, necessary fear of the man, one that was evident in your parents & friends. Not being able to relate to them, to be a part of it with them, only left you feeling more isolated.

A small gasp escaped everyone’s mouths at the sound of a doorbell reverberating through the house. Your parents traded looks of concern before you dad rose from his seat, “Please continue. I’ll be back.”

Lillie & you traded looks next, a familiar gut-wrenching twist forming in your stomach. Light conversation continued among your mother’s guests but she too had stopped talking, rising from her seat to follow behind your father.

You excused yourself, tossing a look to Lil for her to stay in her seat, as you quietly followed in your parents’ wake. Out of site from the dinner, you peered around a corner in the hallway, watching as your parents stood at the door. You could just barely make out Edwards’ voice even though you couldn’t see him.

They spoke quietly amongst yourself, but you observed as your mom put a hand to her chest, as she gripped your dad’s forearm. You weren’t sure what to make of the scene without being able to hear what was being said. Your stomach flipped at any possible bad news that Edwards was telling them. After all, he rarely ever had anything good to share.

A moment later, your father shook Edwards hand before closing the door. Your parents embraced one another, your mother apparently crying into his chest as he ran a calming hand over her head. You came out from your hiding spot approaching them.

“Mom? Dad?” They both raised their heads to look at you, “What’s going on?”

A release of breath came from your mom as she removed herself from your dad, crossing the hallway to you. Confused, you let her pull you into her, hugging you tightly.

“That was Edwards.” Your dad shared, joining you & your mother before she released you.

“I know. What did he say? Is Rafe… did they find him?”

They traded knowing looks before turning to you, your mothers hand finding your own, “They did, sweetie.”

They looked more than relieved though, they looked almost ecstatic. But why would they look ecstatic?

“They did find Rafe.” Your dad repeated, a solace expression washing over him that you had never seen before, “And he won’t be bothering you again.”

You waited for the other shoe to drop, knowing there was more being left unsaid.

“So… what? He’s in jail?” You questioned, your eyes dancing between the two of them.

“No, honey.” Your mom began.

“He’s dead.” Your dad finished, “Rafe Cameron is dead.”

Your parents fought you tooth & nail for wanting to attend Rafe Cameron’s funeral. It wasn’t like you were invited but you needed to see it to believe it.

At a distance where no family or friend of the Cameron’s could spot you, you sat in Edwards car in the backseat with your mother, watching through the tinted windows as a casket was lowered into the ground. An older man & woman stood at the head of it, the woman crying expressionlessly as the man stood eerily still, watching the casket descend further into the earth.

Rafe Cameron, dead. Just like that.

At first you didn’t believe it. How could you? If Rafe’s own parents were willing to hide & protect their psycho son, whose to say they wouldn’t fake his death to ensure he wouldn’t be sought after anymore? But Edwards confirmed the body that washed up on shore Christmas morning was indeed Rafe Cameron: DNA, dental records, & one Ward Cameron’s positive identification.

Your family & friends were relieved. He was gone. For good. You had successfully escaped him.

The details surrounding his death were still being investigated, but according to Edwards own investigation, it was theorized that he overdosed at on a boat he was hiding out on some miles down the way, having fallen overboard & drowned. Edwards said his death would likely be ruled accidental. Open & shut.

But you felt little relief.

Over the last couple days, you watched disassociated as your parents began to smile more, as Lillie began to leave you alone while you showered. Edwards routinely checked in to spare any more details about Rafe’s sudden passing but otherwise, he too looked pleased with how the events turned out.

So why couldn’t you shake the feeling that you were okay? Especially as you watched Rafe’s sisters fall to their knees & cry, as his friends hugged one another. Why, now that he was gone, were you suddenly becoming worried? Where was this worry when he was missing in action?

You inhaled sharply.

“Are you satisfied?” Your mother asked. People began to depart from the gravesite, save for Rafe’s immediate family.

You weren’t. But how else would you be? This is what you wanted. You wanted to be free from him, from your family’s watchful eyes, from Lillie’s overbearing need to always be around you. This was it. But it seemed almost too good to be true.

“I guess.” You muttered, wishing you could march right up to the hole in the ground, rip open the casket, & check for yourself that the man you had called Adrian for months was indeed gone forever.

“Edwards.” Your mom spoke, “Let’s go.”

As the car pulled away from the cemetery, your eyes never left Rafe’s father. He continued to stand impressively still, face expressionless as his only son became buried in the earth.

But then suddenly, Ward Cameron lifted his head. And though he was yards away, & though the windows on Edwards car were well above the legal tint level, & though there was absolutely no way he could see you, Ward Cameron looked directly into your eyes.

And what you saw made your skin crawl. Because what you saw staring back at you was Rafe Cameron. And for the first time since you learned everything about your past, you felt a fearful shudder crawl achingly slow up your spine.

Jozef & Lillie talked animatedly to one another in the front seat of Jozef’s car. It was New Years & the three of you were going together as a trio to Jozef’s work party at the beach.

Now that Rafe Cameron was gone, your parents had eased their hold on you. Of course, they still had their concerns, especially considering who Rafe Cameron was to you, but it appeared they were also learning that you really weren’t the girl before anymore. So who Rafe Cameron was to you now meant entirely something different to the girl who threw herself into the ocean.

“You’ll have to meet my buddy, Koni, _____. He’s from Charlotte.” Jozef met your eyes in the rearview mirror, “I know it’s not probably the city guy you’re lookin’ for but it’s a start.”

Lillie gently slapped Jozef on the arm, “Jo, quit. We’re not bringing her to set her up. Hello? Have you completely forgotten about the last week?”

“Oh, right.” Jozef smiled apologetically, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You laughed softly, “But Lil is right. I’m in no rush to be dating right now. I just want to have fun & hangout with my friends.”

Lil turned over in her seat to grin at you, “And fun we shall have plenty of.”

The two of you traded smiles.

An hour or so later, you found yourself sitting alone at a table, watching from a distance as Lillie & Jozef danced to the beat of the upbeat party music. It was an open-bar but you stayed far away from the alcohol, instead choosing to drink a virgin cocktail.

“Mind if I join ya?” A voice sounded to your right. You took a sip from your drink, nodding at the person. Koni, Jozef’s friend, grinned at you. He was ridiculously handsome. Under as normal circumstances as you could imagine, you would’ve happily entertained flirtatious banter with him, but you just didn’t have it in you—your thoughts sometimes returning to the blue-eyed liar that swept you off your feet only months prior.

“Not into dancing, huh?” He asked, leaning forward on his elbows towards you, but he still maintained a respectful distance.

You shook your head, cringing at the thought, “No way. Don’t know how to dance, don’t really care to learn.”

“Why’s that?” His dimples distracted you, making you feel disgustingly shy.

“Uh.” You paused, “Because apparently old me did enjoy dancing, & I have a pretty bad habit of wanting to be nothing like her.”

Koni’s frowned in confusion, “I’m sorry, what?”

You went on to explain your condition, the accident that caused it, the nature of your stubbornness. Though you loathed the idea of exposing yourself like so, you resolved that it would always be a part of you, no matter what. Unlike Rafe Cameron, or Adrian for that matter, there was no out-running it. So you stopped trying to hide it away.

“Damn.” Koni sat quietly for a moment, soaking in everything you told him, “So you don’t remember a single thing about your life?”

You shook your head, “Nope.”

“Man,” He laughed softly, “What I wouldn’t give to erase some of my memories. Guess you’re kind of lucky, but only kind of considering how it happened.”

You chuckled at that, “Yeah, you’re right. ‘Kind of’ fits.”

For the next hour, you & Koni stayed chatting at the table, conversation flowing easily. Thankfully, the conversational tone never breached the levels of flirtation. Koni was friendly & appeared genuinely interested in anything you had to say—all without calling you ‘cute’ or subtly checking you out. It was your first normal & honest conversation with someone that wasn’t Lillie or your parents. You internally rejoiced.

Jozef & Lillie joined you two a few minutes later, Jozef clearly having had one too many drinks. Lillie struggled bracing Jozef’s weight. Koni easily took over for her, nodding towards the road where cars were parked, “Heading home?”

Lillie slipped into her sandals, nodding, “Yeah, we oughta.”

“It’s almost midnight, you guys are gonna miss the fireworks.”

“I know, I know.” Lillie admitted, “But if I don’t get this guy into bed soon he’s gonna vomit everywhere & make a fool out of himself in front of his boss & coworkers.” Neither of you could argue with that.

“Are you staying?” Lillie surprised you by asking.

“Oh, uh. I would assume not, you guys are my ride.”

“Right, of course.”

“I could give you ride back.” Koni offered. Lillie & you traded looks before you shrugged, “It’s okay, I don’t really care for fireworks, anyway.”

You lied. You wanted desperately to see them. As someone who valued new beginnings, the start of a new year symbolized by pretty lights in the sky over the endless ocean seemed like an ideal way to end this year.

“_____.” Lillie said your name quietly as Koni began leading Jozef back toward the car, “You can stay. Koni is a good guy. I trust him. And I know how nice it probably is for you to be able to do your own thing now, ya know, considering…”

You sighed, nodding, “Yeah, I know, I just, I dunno. I pushed myself hard once before to move on & look at how that went.” Lillie frowned but nodded in understanding. “I just don’t want history to repeat itself.”

“I get that, believe me!” She laughed, “And I’m obviously not going to abandon you here so if you really want to come back with us then obviously you’re coming. But at least give it the walk back to the car to think about it, okay?”

“Yeah.” You rolled your eyes but were actually quite grateful, “Okay.”

Following behind Koni & Jozef, Lillie & you trekked from the beach through the foliage of trees. The private beach that Jozef’s boss had rented had no official parking lot, just a dirt road off the main road that disappeared into the trees before coming out to the beach.

It was only a couple minutes before the four of you reached the mouth of the trees where Jozef had parked his car. Pulling out the keys from the jacket she was carrying, Lillie unlocked the car & opened the door for Koni to slide Jozef into the backseat. As he got Jozef situated, Lillie turned to you, “Last chance.”

You sighed, pondering it. Your eyes fell to Koni as he carefully buckled Jozef before gently shaking his head, “Get home safe, dude.”

Lillie was right. You had nothing to be afraid of anymore. And while you didn’t want to push yourself, you did feel safe, right then in that moment.

“Okay.” You smiled, “I would actually love to see the fireworks.”

Lillie grinned knowingly, bumping your shoulder, “I knew it. Hey, Koni!”

Koni looked at the two of you, unsure why it sounded like he was about to get in trouble.

“_____ is yours for the next hour. Get her home safely. And keep your hands to yourself.” Lillie joked but you knew there was a seriousness there too beneath her words.

Koni raised his hands in innocence, “Yes ma’am. I would never anyway but you’re scary enough as is.”

Lillie turned to you, a triumphant smile on her features, “Good.” She chirped.

Hopping into the drivers seat, Lillie turned on the engine before rolling down the window. Koni stood a foot away from you as she hollered, “I have her location, Koni. I expect her home before one.”

“Okay, mom.” You shook your head playfully, “Get dad home safely.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes but waved, “Have fun, kids.”

Koni & you waited until you watched her disappear around the bend. As the two of you began walking, Koni pulled out his phone, “Oh shit.”

“What?” You felt your concern spike suddenly.

“It’s 11:59.” He grabbed your hand gently, “We gotta go if we’re gonna see these damn fireworks.”

Allowing him to lead you at a fast pace through the trees, you tried to keep up with him. Like him, you too wanted to see those damn fireworks. The sound of the party was getting closer, signaling that you two were almost through the trees when suddenly Koni fell.

“Ah, fuck.” He groaned out as you came to halt beside him. A tree root was sticking out from the earth, having caught his foot.

“Are you okay?” You covered your mouth, not wanting to laugh at his predicament. But he seemed to recognize what you were doing & sarcastically responded, “Oh yeah, laugh at the guy that was trying to help you, I see how it is.”

“Sorry.” You pressed your lips together. Koni faked a pout making you laugh, “C’mon, take my hand.”

Just as Koni reached his hand up to take yours, a sudden thwack sounded to your left, making you jump & fall to your side. It took a second too long to realize what had happened. Koni lied at your feet on his back, unconscious, having been struck on the head by an assailant.

A silent scream escaped your open mouth as another blow hit him on the head followed by another. Your turned your face away, covering your ears at the sound of Koni getting beat repeatedly. It was only when the sound stopped that you realized your dilemma.

Slowly, & with blurry vision, you turned to see a silhouette standing over Koni’s body, a bat hanging loosely from their hand.

They didn’t need to turn around for you to know exactly who it was. Rushing to your feet, you took off for the beach party but didn’t get very far when a strong arm circled your waist, pulling you off your feet.

A loud boom erupted the night followed by a bright pink light in the sky just as you screamed.

Rafe pulled you further into the trees, your screams drowned out by fireworks exploding. No one would hear you.

You beat against his arm, trying to release yourself from his hold.

One of Rafe’s hands harshly gripped the back of your head, yanking a fist-full of hair, forcing your head back at an ungodly painful angle. All you could make out was the fireworks above the trees & the top of Rafe’s head as he leaned over you.

“Look baby.” He looked to the sky, “They’re exploding just for you, for us.”

A hot, wet unwanted kiss pressed against your cheek, causing you to squeal & squirm against Rafe. But Rafe wouldn’t let go.

“Remember our thanksgiving dinner. I know you do.”

For a moment, you didn’t, & you knew that he knew you didn’t. But then you did remember it. The dinner you two had in the city, back when he was Adrian, right before you allowed him into your bed.

A firework lit up & danced across the sky. Your vision blurred from the tears.

“Rafe, please don’t.”

He pulled you tightly against him, his hand finding your throat as his other covered your mouth & nose, “To new beginnings, _____.”

Ayyyeee, only one part left. Ya'll thirsty Rafe fans will surely enjoy the final part of the Awake series.

Please please please, if you haven't, share your thoughts with me! With the end near, I'd love to chat about it or know what you're thinking.

Thank you for reading!

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