#I don’t mediate lol

[vcnom]

going to make an effort to have a really productive but also relaxing and healing week

[titus-androgynous-87]

Me: Astrology is fun, but ultimately not useful for actually determining human behavior because they were born when we could see the cosmos from a certain angle

Also me when my wife yells at me for impulse purchases, throwing myself to the ground in dramatic fashion: I’m a LIBRA! I like NICE THINGS! Let me be HAPPY!!

[kimarii-00]

Honey would please write something like when Armando left his gf she is a hacker and a weapon specialist without saying anything turned out that's not the only person he left behind. ( Tiny a baby girl who like to hold a wooden spoon ) They meet again when they going to the ammo squad in bad boys for . Her Kelly are besties . Very very angst.

(I accidentally deleted the ask, but I wrote it down before I did so above is the prompt for this, asked by anonymous)

Regrets and Punishments

❥Summary: Armando knows he made a mistake. He knew when he decided that his mother was more important than his girlfriend. But he planned to return to her, he did. He never could’ve anticipated being gone for as long as he was. Seeing her face again was like getting shot: You get that adrenaline rush, yet the pain ends up biting you in the ass later on. Especially when he discovers what, or dare I say, who he also left behind all that time ago.

❥Warnings: Slow burn, kidnapping, language

❥Word Count: 2.7k

❥Part 1/2

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AN: I’m ngl I’m not sure if you meant that you wanted them to have a kid or not, but I wrote it just in case, let me know if that's not what you wanted and I’ll rewrite it! (I also gave the kid a name)

I think I’m going to make this a two parter because I kinda took this prompt and ran with it lol

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He never thought he’d see you again. As much as he didn’t want to, he accepted the fact that he’d fucked up your relationship when he decided to leave you in favor of helping his mothers’ dirty work. He didn’t even give you so much as a call after he’d left to let you know that he was even alive. He only hoped that you were doing fine on your own.

Nonchalantly, Armando walked through the door to the house of the people Mike and Marcus knew, not giving a damn about the warning to stay outside like Mike had told him to. No wonder a gun was drawn and pointed at him as soon as he stepped foot in the home.

“Woah, woah! Kelly-” Mike began his attempt to mediate the situation, “I asked you to wait outside for a second… Alright, Kelly, he’s with us.” Standing in between the gun and his son.

“He can’t be here.” Kelly retorted, keeping her gaze on the wanted criminal standing before her.

“This is my son, Armando.”

“I know who he is and that’s why he can’t be here,” The gun never faltered as she spoke with a solid, demanding voice, “I trust you with my life, but I sure as shit don’t trust him.”

“I trust him,” Mike confirmed.

“Then take him to your house.”

Dorn cleared his throat, trying to release some of the tension that had built in the room. Armando said nothing as Dorn came over to try to calm his girlfriend, and Mike took his son to the opposite side of the room.

Marcus sat down on the couch in the middle of the room and snatched up a bag of chips, “This is some dysfunctional shit.” He said, looking back and forth between the two duos.

They came back together after a minute or two. “She’s fine,” Dorn said.

“She don’t look fine…” Marcus expressed, taking in the obvious irritation and discomfort on her face.

“I’m fine.”

“Yes, you are.” Everyone turned in the direction of Armando, where he only opened the fridge to grab a drink.

“It’s the language barrier,” Marcus explained to Dorn.

“It was English!”

“It was definitely English.”

“I have to call someone. I’ll be back,” Kelly said, picking up her phone and already beginning to dial, “If I’m going to do this I’m gonna need another girl here. She’ll be able to help with the tech stuff too.”

“Is it–” Dorn began, but cut himself off when Kelly nodded, “Tell her to leave Demi at home, we don’t know what kind of shit we’re getting into.”

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When you got the call from Kelly, you weren’t entirely sure what to make of it. She told you she needed you to come over, but when you asked her why, she only said something about “emotional support”. You’d tried to press her for more details but she only mentioned having some people over and needing your tech skills. After a while, you just decided you’d go, but not before you handled your own business.

“Demi, come here please!” You called out while folding another shirt, making a nice crease and adding it to your pile of similar neatly folded shirts.

The aggressive pitter-patter of small feet hitting your hardwood floors alerted you that the person you’d called for was on their way.

“Mama!” You felt the bed on which you were folding clothes dip a bit as a weight threw itself into the soft mattress. You smile when you set your eyes on the girl who is smiling to herself contently—your daughter.

“Mimi, mama has to leave soon,” You said as you picked her up and set her on your hip so you could continue to fold while holding your toddler, “Tiara should be here soon to look after you, okay?” You say, referring to your babysitter that you should probably be paying more considering how many times you’ve called her in the past week or so.

“Mama leaving… again?” Your heart dropped when you watched the smile fade from your daughter's face when she realized you were going to be gone and she was going to be left with the babysitter for what felt like the hundredth time. You always felt bad when things like this came up but… you couldn’t just blow Kelly off. Not after all she’s done for you.

“Yes… Mama’s leaving, I’m sorry baby but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can okay?” You tried to cheer her up by giving her stomach a few tickles but your daughter was as stubborn as they come, her pout seemingly permanently stuck to her face.

The doorbell stole your attention and you gently set your daughter down. She followed you to the front door, and when you opened it her permanent pout was replaced with nothing but… confusion. You joined her in sporting this facial expression when you both looked at the stranger at your doorstep.

“Can I.. help you?” You ask the woman. She had a soft smile on her face, but for some reason, it didn’t seem welcoming.

“I’m your babysitter.” The woman replied.

“Um… I’m sorry there must be some mistake. My usual babysitter’s name is Tiara, I called her a while ago-”

“Tiara asked me to come here in her stead, she isn’t feeling too well, unfortunately. I’m a coworker of hers.” The woman explained, but you weren’t convinced. Tiara hadn’t mentioned any of this to you when you called her-

Just then, as you were about to make up your mind about whether or not you wanted to slam the door on the lady, you received a message from… Tiara.

3:34 Tiara (Babysitter): Hey, so sorry for the inconvenience but I’m not feeling good today, I sent over my coworker because I know you needed a sitter ASAP! Her name is Sara.

“What was your name again?” You asked, slowly taking your eyes off of your phone and to the lady, still wearing that smile on her face.

“Sara.”

You look her up and down once more before stepping to the side to let the woman inside. Your daughter hid behind and clung to your leg, only peeking out when she was sure the strange woman was not looking at her.

“Um… This is Demi,” You gesture to the girl who has glued herself to your right leg. You try to get her to say hello but she refuses. Sara stoops down to your daughter's level and tries to wave at her but Demi only scooches further out of sight. “The fridge is fully stocked, there are only a few weres, really: Don’t invite anyone else over, no drinking, oh and her bedtime is 8:30.”

“Please do not worry, I’m sure me and Demi will have a great time together.” Sara expresses, that damn smile still plastered on her face. There’s something about this lady that you just don’t like, but if Tiara sent her then it’s probably just you overreacting, right?

“Right… Could I get your phone number, just in case?” You say. She recites her number to you and you quickly enter it into your phone and save the contact, just in case of an emergency. You then turn around and kneel to look your daughter in the face.

“Be good, okay Mimi? I promise I’ll be back soon,” You say, giving her a quick peck on the forehead and a hug. She looks extremely hesitant and to be honest, so are you, but you’re already running late… “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Demi says meekly.

You smile and turn to leave.

If Tiara sent her, there shouldn’t be a problem, right?

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

You parked in front of the house that your best friend and her boyfriend lived in. You had no guesses as to why she called you here, but if your technology skills could be useful to her, you’d want to help in any way you can.

You knock on the door and after a while, Kelly answers but stops you before you can go inside. “We kind of got ourselves in some shit, we’ll fill you in.”

She grabs your wrist, pulls you inside, and closes the door shut. The first thing that you lay your eyes on is the monitors that Dorn was sifting through. Pulling up various pictures of people and files that look confidential.

Should I even be here right now…?

“What's the situation?” You ask as you move towards Dorn.

“Remember when we told you all that stuff about Captain Conrad–”

“(Name)?”

You pause when you hear your name. The voice sounds so familiar you're almost scared to turn around and see who it was that called you. You think you know who it was that called, which is probably another reason as to why it takes you so very long to fully turn and face the man that has broken your heart time and time again.

It’s like the world stopped. All of a sudden, everyone in that room except for the man in front of you was irrelevant. There were so many things you wanted to say, yet no words left your mouth.

What is he doing here?

Why is he here?

All of the emotions flowing through you quickly became too much. Without a word, your feet guided you to the nearest room in which you could be alone.

“Do yall know each other?” Mike asked, but received no answer when his son went after the girl, “Do they know each other?” He asked in a more general way, but was met with nothing. The tension silenced everyone.

You ripped your arm out of the hand that had caught it when you reached the empty room. “Get the fuck off of me! What the hell are you doing here?” You exclaimed angrily. All of a sudden, all of those feelings you felt were entirely replaced by rage. Anger, directed at the man who’d left you without a second thought.

“I–” Armando began, but was cut off.

“Y’know what, I don’t care! Get the hell out of my face!”

“(Name), wait– stop,” He said, grabbing hold of your bicep when you tried to turn away from him again.

“You have some fucking nerve!” You growled, entirely in shock of the fact that he thinks he’ll just have a nice chat with you, “I haven’t seen your ass in years! Not a fucking call, or even a damn text! Nothing!”

“I know, I know, I didn’t plan on it being like that,” he pointed out. In actuality, he had no clue or reason as to why he followed you here. He knew he fucked up their relationship and a few words wasn’t going to change that fact. So why was he so desperate to get you to hear him out? He was never like this. It’s been years, why do you still have this weird affect on him?

“Yeah? Well I never planned on being abandoned by you, but look where we fuckin’ are now. Get the hell away from me,” You seethed. He had no clue how hard you were trying not to cry, “I said get the hell off of me!”

You snatch your arm from his grip. Deep down, underneath all of the anger that had boiled up to the surface, you’d missed Armando. You really did. Dealing with the pain of losing him, and never hearing from him until, well now. Taking care of Demi–

Does he even know about Demi? Does he know he’s a…

“Guys, so sorry to interrupt but we have a problem,” Kelly announced from around a corner. You hold eye contact with Armando for a few more seconds, trying to read his face but ultimately giving up. You didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. You stomp out of the room, and he lags behind you.

Upon entering the room where everyone was gathering around Dorn and his monitors, you see he is tapped into someone's security feed, which you quickly find out is Marcus’ and Mikes’ homes where their families were. Dorn was notifying the police to send backup and you realize that there are people attempting to break into the homes. Does this have something to do with their investigation with Captain Conrad?

Mike and Marcus grab their phones and quickly make calls, telling their people to hide, and leave their houses. You watch the cameras and watch as the masked men make their way into the two guys’ respective houses.

“Fuck, fuck!” Marcus says when he watches someone from his house grab a gun from a safe and hide the rest of the family in a closet. You can only home that whoever Marcus decided to trust with his family’s safety was skilled.

Everyone watches and commentates on the man's performance in the security feed, taking down the trespassers one by one until he is able to safely transport the rest of the family out of the house, but not before saluting to the security camera for us onlookers to see.

Mike is not so lucky, as he is not able to reach his wife in time to warn her and the girl who was with her at the time. We all have to watch when she’s easily overpowered and tied up. Mike is still on the phone with her, able to hear everything that’s going on.

A sudden devious voice sounds through the phone, one that was definitely not his wife, “Mr. Lowrey.”

“Who am I speaking to?” Mike lowers his voice and says in a serious tone.

“I think you know who you’re speaking to,” the voice says ominously, “I need your boy, and whatever evidence your beloved Captain has foiled away.” You eye Armando whose eyes were flicking back and forth from the phone to Mike, “And for that, you can have your wife. I’ll call you back with instructions.”

“Ah, shit…” Mike grumbles, but the man on the other side of the phone has not yet hung up.

“Ms. (Name), I know you’re there as well.” Your heart drops to your toes. What could this man want with you? “I’d go ahead and check the security systems for your house as well.” A beep was heard as the man hung up and your eyes widened. No…

He wouldn't, right? You had nothing to do with this operation.

Nevertheless, you pushed Dorn out of the way and pulled up your homes’ cameras, and scanned for anything out of the ordinary. You spotted Demi playing with dolls in her room. The only thing was that you couldn’t spot the babysitter, but you figured she must’ve been in the bathroom.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

“Who’s kid is that?” Armando spoke up. You looked over but didn’t fully turn around, fearing he’d already figured it out, and just wanted clarification. You were afraid. You were afraid that if he found out, he’d come back into your life. Demi’s life. You didn’t want to get hurt again. You don’t think you could handle him leaving you again, so you stayed silent. You left the question to hang in the air.

The breath you let out was sucked back in when you saw your front door open slightly, then all the way and three masked intruders walked in. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, snatching up your phone and dialing the phone number you’d received from the new babysitter before. She answered after one ring, which you were entirely grateful for, “Sara, grab Demi and get the hell out of there, now. Please!” You frantically spew out. You’d be surprised if she caught any of that.

There was no response on the other end until Sara spoke, “There’s people in the house?” She asked, too calm for your liking.

“Yes, so grab Demi and get the fuck out of there. Take the window if you have to, they’re searching the living room right now,” You say, watching the men search the living room and kitchen, slowly making their way down the hallway which they would find your daughter.

Again, no response. That is, until the chilling words made their way into your ears. “Finally, I was wondering when they’d arrive.” And she hung up.

Your eyes were blown wide enough to where you were sure you were going to start hearing colors and seeing sounds. You were speechless and your heart was racing a mile a minute as you watched the ‘babysitter’ pick your daughter up and… deliver her to the intruders.

You could only watch, helpless as your daughter was kidnapped.

What the hell just happened?

[11hedonistic]

Astrology Observations 🌴

air venus/air mars are usually the type of people to fall for the friends or find nothing wrong with having a fwb (friend with benefits)

venus touching the ascendant (no matter the aspect) can manifest a beautiful appearance (same with mars but with mars, i would say this gives more of a sex appeal vibe)

scorpio moon/mars definitely wins the title for holding grudges the longest/being the most unforgivable if you cross them

i realized that a lot of aries mercury people don’t really think before they speak😂

taurus mercury people are those type of people to repeat what they already said just to make sure everyone understood

my gemini mercury people.. i know how hard it is for you to stay focused. you’re doing great reading this sweetie

cancer mercury people have craaazy intuition

if you’re looking for someone to tell a good story, find you a leo mercury!! these people are such good story tellers 😂

virgo mercury people can be brutally honest people when giving advice, which can hurt people in the process but that’s not their intention most of the time!

if you need a mediator during an argument, find u a libra mercury. they’re always looking at both sides of an argument

scorpio mercury people can become very rude/disrespectful if they feel annoyed or bothered. especially if they have sag/cap placements.. scary

sagittarius mercury people almost always come off as too blunt

capricorn mercury people, how often are you put in leadership positions? 🤔

aquarius mercury people and their way of coming up with ideas no one else could think of >>

pisces mercury people.. you and that imagination of yours. always in your head. i know you enjoy living in your imagination dont you (my neptune 3rd house can relate so you’re not alone lol)

taurus moon + scorpio venus lovers >>

the best omg this guy that im talking to right now has this combo and he’s always spoiling me with gifts, mind you we’re not even dating 😂 and they’re SO observant. like i play my music around him sometimes and yesterday he literally surprised me with a playlist of my favorite songs & his favorite songs (he’s moving away so he made it for me to listen while he’s gone when i miss him 💔) but wow. if you want real love, these people are it

pluto 4th house people.. how’s your family/home life?

pluto 1st house people.. how many times has it felt like you killed your old self just to make a new one? coming back stronger and stronger each time of course

im soo tired of this gemini venus slander and saying WE CHEAT! we dont cheat we just lose interest fast if you’re boring or fail to keep our brains stimulated. just dont be monotone/boring, make us laugh & we’ll be willing to work on the connection 😁 its also just that we dont really deal well with a bunch of intense emotions being thrown at us. give us time

capricorn moon people.. are you ok? and dont lie to me

scorpio suns.. how is your relationship with your father?

i saw someone say how saturn in 1st house people hate the inverted filter & they were nott wrong. my sister has this placement and she despises it. always picking at every single flaw she has whole time she looks fine lol

[wafflefries13]

Go For It, Jamil!

Summary: Scarabia hears their Vice-House Warden has a crush and are a little too enthusiastic to help out.

AN: I really like the idea that the dorm mob loves their wardens and vice wardens. It makes me think of the tsum event where all of Savanaclaw was in tears because they thought Leona got turned into a little burrito plush, lol.

I got Omar and Babkak from the Aladdin Broadway musical. There's also a Kassim there but I thought it sounded too close to Kalim so just kept it to the two of them.

Warnings: Pining. Apparently I'm really into that. AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

Spring had come to Night Raven College. With the blossoming trees, chirping birds, and returning sunshine, one thing everyone could count on was Kalim’s annual Welcome Spring party. Of course, he also had a Welcome Autumn, Welcome Winter, Welcome Summer, Farewell End-of-School-Year, Beginning of School, Halloween, New Year's Eve and Day, basically anything party. The difference here was that there were generally more flowers. 

“And we can have the cherry blossom trees around the entrance of the courtyard!” Kalim was saying. Jamil dutifully followed behind him by a few steps, taking down notes for the numerous things they would need to order. “That way when the wind blows the petals will swirl everywhere and it will be super pretty!” 

“MmHmm,” Jamil muttered, only halfway paying attention. 

“And I was thinking the food should be fruit-themed. Blueberries, strawberries, plums, apricots, rhubarb - is rhubarb a fruit? It’s sweet but it’s like celery, right? Cause it grows in the ground in a stalk?” 

“It’s a vegetable.” 

“Oh, and pastels! I can get bolts of silk and we can have them hanging from the ceiling in panels and string beads between everything.”

“Sure.”  

“And it’ll be the perfect backdrop when you confess to (Y/N)!” 

Jamil nearly tripped over his own feet. Both of them froze at the sound of a shattering pot. Looking up, Jamil felt dread build in his stomach as a wide-eyed first-year stared at the two of them, obviously having overheard Kalim’s (obviously totally ridiculous) announcement. There was a broken flower pot at his feet. 

“I-Uh-” The first-year stuttered. “Sorry, I’ll get a broom.” He dashed off like his feet were on fire. 

Jamil sighed. The last thing he needed right now were rumors swirling around. “Kalim, what are you talking about?”

Kalim blinked at the retreating student before looking back at Jamil with a beaming smile. “(Y/N)! It’ll all be super romantic, right? And spring’s a time for new beginnings. We’ll have a string quartet and I’ll set up a gazebo with hanging lanterns and you can take her hands and look her in the eyes and say-” 

“Okay, okay, okay!” Jamil quickly said, clapping a hand over Kalim’s mouth before another eavesdropper got the wrong idea. “You have way to clear an image of all this.” 

“Of course! I think it’ll make a great story for your wedding!” 

Jamil heard a gasp. He turned just in time to see the first-year from before ducking behind the corner with another in tow. 

Yup. There was the headache coming. 

“Kalim,” Jamil said, measuring his words as steadily as he could. “I’m not going to confess anything to (Y/N).” 

Kalim pouted. “Aww, why not?” 

“Because I don’t have feelings for her.” 

“What? Of course you do!” 

“I promise I don’t.” 

“Don’t worry, she’ll definitely say yes.” 

“That’s not the problem here.” Jamil sighed. “Look, I get that you have good intentions, but you don’t need to go overboard and be involved in everything. We talked about this, remember? The whole thing about boundaries?” Actually, (Y/N) had mediated that conversation a few days after Jamil’s Overblot. Is that why Kalim had become convinced they had some sort of romantic attraction? Because talking about feelings must lead to the extreme of those feelings? 

Kalim looked chastened, a certain wet puppy dog look that would make most people fold instantly. Jamil was not most people. “Right, I remember. I just…” Jamil waited for Kalim to continue, silently hoping he would just drop it. “I want you to be happy, you know? And I think you’d be really happy with (Y/N)!” 

Jamil looked at Kalim sideways. “It’s more of a two way street, you know.” 

“Well, yeah, but (Y/N) likes you too!” 

Jamil tripped over his own feet again. He felt a strange kind of dread at the way his heart skipped a beat as a warm feeling flooded his chest. 

“She-what-Where did you hear that?” 

Kalim shrugged, smiling coyly. “I can tell. Just like how I can tell you like her.” 

“I don’t,” Jamil said firmly. 

Kalim held up his hands in surrender. “I hear you! Boundaries! I won’t mention it again.” He added under his breath, “Even if I think you two would be really cute together.” 

“I heard that.” 

*

Behind them, hidden in the long shadows of the Scarabia hallways, a cluster of students were beginning to plot. 

*

The next day, Jamil was taking some time to relax between classes. Well, as much as he could relax. Mostly his thoughts were occupied jumping between organizing for the Welcome Spring party, creating a mental schedule of what school projects were do when, planning what he would make Kalim for lunch for the next week-

“Jamil!” 

He turned to see (Y/N) waving at him. He felt his heart start thumping rapidly in his chest. Stop it, He thought. I can’t let Kalim get in my head like that. 

“Hi,” She said, coming up to him. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Not really. Just saw you over here stuck in your own head again.” She elbowed him playfully. Jamil felt himself smile without realizing it and quickly schooled his features to a more serious expression. “Want to take a break? I snagged these cookies from Sam’s. Tomorrow’s the expiration date so I got them on sale.” 

Jamil wrinkled his nose. “Is it worth it?” 

(Y/N) shrugged, taking a bite of a cookie. “It’s in the budget. You know, whenever Crowley actually decides to pay me.” 

“You know, if you’re ever short on food you can always come to Scarabia. If Kalim’s not throwing another party with a buffet I can get you something. I always make extras for Kalim, anyway.” This was not entirely true. Jamil had had practically his entire life to get used to cooking for Kalim, and it was only recently that he had started making larger batches, packaging them up to deliver to a certain magicless prefect who’s nutritional health he definitely didn’t worry about.  

(Y/N) smiled and offered him the cookie bag. “You look after everyone all the time, don’t you?” 

Jamil smiled back and took a cookie. They sat in an alcove in the hallway, chatting about nothing of significance. Jamil told a story about how Floyd had insisted Jamil teach him how to spin on his head during basketball practice and (Y/N) told him stories of her recent trip to Harveston, Epel’s hometown, and the sled race against the surprise Royal Sword Academy students. 

Jamil saw movement out of the corner of his eye, but whatever it was disappeared before he could catch it. “Sorry, what did you say?” 

“Oh, about the stuffed animals. Sebeck won’t admit it, but I think he still has his squirrel plush in his room. I don’t think it’s magic anymore but it is really cute.” 

Jamil heard the drag of a bow on strings and looked around. 

(Y/N) frowned. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.” 

Jamil shook his head. “No, sorry, I’m fine. I thought I heard-” 

Music started to pour around them. Although it was the calming, one might almost say romantic, type, they both still jumped at the sudden noise. Jamil jumped up, looking around, and took a hit of sunflower petals directly to his face. 

“Omar!” Someone hissed. “Be careful!” 

“Sorry, Babkak,” A voice squeaked back. 

Wait, Jamil knew those voices. He whipped around the corner, seeing a group of Scarabia first-years. Several formed a string quartet, softly playing music. The other two had a bucket of flower petals, one of them throwing handfuls in the air while the other directed a zephyr spell to blow them across the hallway. The two froze with wide eyes at the sight of their Vice-House Warden. 

“What,” Jamil said, voice steely and arms crossed. “Are you doing?” 

The string players looked nervously at each other but continued to play. Omar gapped like a codfish. Babkak stood up straight with a confident smile. “We’re setting the mood!” 

“What mood?” “For your confession!” 

Oh. Oh, no. Now Jamil realized how he recognized them. Babkak was the one who dropped the flower pot yesterday and Omar was the one he had dragged with him to eavesdrop. They must have heard what Kalim had said yesterday about him and (Y/N) and taken the wrong idea. And, Jamil justified to himself, it was definitely the wrong idea. 

“Jamil?”  

Jamil turned so fast the first-years were momentarily worried about whiplash. (Y/N) stood at the corner, looking curiously at the impromptu band and flowers. Behind him, Jamil could hear them hastily whispering to each other to keep playing and trying to get the effect of floating flower petals just right. 

“Something going on?” She asked. 

“No!” Jamil said, perhaps a little too quickly. “They were just leaving.” He glared at the first-years. “After they clean this up.” 

(Y/N) took a step forward. Jamil felt his mouth go dry as she reached up and plucked a few stray yellow petals from his hair. “Is this for a botany project or something? Kind of romantic, huh?” 

Jamil felt his face burn with embarrassment. 

“No!” Jamil said, at the same time Babkak said, “Yes!” 

“Okay,” (Y/N) said, rolling closed the half-full bag of cookies. “Well, I should probably get going. I need to see what kind of trouble Grim has gotten into while I was gone. I’ll see you later, Jamil.” She waved to him and then the first-years. 

“What made you think this was a good idea?” Jamil asked, trying very hard not to yell, when (Y/N) was out of earshot. 

“Sorry, sir,” Omar said, dejectedly picking up flower petals. He glared up at Babkak. “I told you we should have gone for the romantic dinner. And rose petals, not sunflowers.” 

Babkak waved his friend off. “Don’t be so cliche. Besides, sunflowers are way better! They’re pretty and you can eat the seeds!” 

“Hey!” Jamil snapped. The two boys looked back up at him while the other first-years were trying to discreetly pack up their instruments. “I asked what you were doing? Did Kalim put you up to this?” 

“No, sir, this was all us!” Babkak said, a little too proudly. “We wanted to help.” “Yeah,” Omar said. “We’re all rooting for you, Vice-House Warden, sir!” The other first-years made noises of agrement. 

“Rooting for me?” 

“With (Y/N), to tell her you love her!” 

Jamil groaned, covering his eyes with his hand and rubbing his temples. “I am not in love with the Prefect.” Jamil missed the skeptical look the two gave each other. “Look, I appreciate the…vote of confidence, but I’m not going to confess anything to anyone any time soon. So whatever else you have planned, or whoever else you told this rumor to, you can give it a break. Understand?” 

“Yes, Vice-House Warden,” They all echoed dutifully. 

As Jamil marched away, Omar leaned over to Babkak. “I’ve got twenty madol that say he confesses before the spring party.” 

*

Jamil’s muscles were burning, and he welcomed it. He needed the distraction after this morning and basketball practice against Floyd in full force was a pretty good diversion. Ace had been uncharacteristically distracted all practice. Although Jamil couldn’t help but notice that Ace seemed to pass a little harder than necessary. 

During a water break, Ace came up to Jamil. He tossed his water bottle between his hands, taking a step away and then closer. 

Jamil knew he would regret it before he even asked, “What’s up, Ace?” 

Ace startled, surprised Jamil had made the first move. “I heard something,” He said. “In potions class today.” 

“Did someone blow up something again? Anyone get turned into an animal or something?” 

Ace pressed his lips together. “Do you like (Y/N)?” 

Jamil couldn’t decide whether to be exhausted, flustered, or annoyed. “Who told you that?” 

Ace’s eyes widened in shock. “You do?!” 

“No!” Jamil snapped back. “People are just going around spreading rumors.” 

“Huh?” Floyd asked, sliding over on the bleachers. “I thought everyone knew already.” 

“Knew?”

Floyd flashed his sharp teeth. “Come on, Sea Snake. Everyone knows you’re, what’s the land term? Head over heels for Shrimpy.” 

Ace dropped his water bottle and jabbed an accusatory finger at Jamil. “I knew it!” 

“You don’t know anything,” Jamil said, shoving Ace’s hand aside. 

“Oh?” Floyd said, leaning in a little too close. “So that means she’s available then?” 

“No!” Ace and Jamil both shouted at the same time. Ace glared at Jamil. A few other members of the basketball club glanced over, snickering to themselves at the outburst. 

Ace puffed out his chest, planting himself solidly in front of Jamil. “Look, (Y/N) is one of my best friends. And if you do anything to mess with her then… then…” Ace fumbled, running out of steam with his threats before catching his second wind. “Then you’ll have to deal with Jack!” 

Jamil crooked an eyebrow. “Jack? Not you or Deuce?” 

Ace shrugged. “Jack’s the biggest. But Deuce did used to be a delinquent. I’ve seen him be pretty brutal when he wants to. And I guess Epel can scrap up too, when Vil isn’t around. Probably couldn’t convince Sebeck to help out, he’d just lecture about a knight’s honor or something. Ooh, Ortho had a blast cannon! So, you know, watch out!” 

“I like how you didn’t put yourself in the line of fire there, Crabby,” Floyd said. He rolled his shoulders. “But you know, I think Shrimpy is pretty great, too. I don’t want to see her sad or anything. So if someone were to maybe break her heart,” He glanced sideways as Jamil with crazed wide eyes. “Can you swim, Sea Snake?” 

Jamil just glowered back at him. “Can everyone just stop talking about (Y/N) today?” 

“People are talking about me?” All three of them jumped. (Y/N) walked into the gym, Grim hanging off her shoulders. “I thought I felt my ears burning.”  

“Shrimpy!” Floyd immediately ran up to her, sweeping her up in a tight squeezing hug. Grim jumped off her shoulders with a yelp. Ace yelled and pulled at Floyd’s jersey, trying to pry them apart. 

(Y/N) weakly patted Floyd’s back with a free hand. “Hi, Floyd, hi, Ace. Sorry, I need Jamil real quick.” 

The two boys froze, slowly turning their heads to stare at Jamil, who was busy hiding his face in his hands. They watched like hawks as (Y/N) walked over to Jamil. 

“Hey,” She said. “You okay?” 

“Fine,” He said, waving her off. “Just one of those days, you know?”

She frowned. “You need me to talk to someone? I can chew out Ace if you want. Floyd is sort of out of my league, though.” 

Jamil sighed a laugh. “No, that’s fine.” 

“Oh! Right! Hang on.” She slung her backpack off her shoulder, reaching in and pulling out a familiar water bottle. “Here, you left this in the library. One of the Scarabia first-years found it and asked me to bring it to you.” 

“Oh, thanks. I was wondering where it was.” Jamil didn’t mention that he hadn’t been in the library at all today. As he reached to take it, their fingers brushed. Jamil grabbed the bottle and jerked back like he had been scorched. His heart was hammering, not from the exercise of basketball practice, and he was momentarily worried (Y/N) would be able to hear it. Not to mention if she would notice how clammy his hands had suddenly become. 

“Well,” (Y/N) said. “I guess I’ll get out of your hair-”

“Wait!” 

The entire basketball team, plus (Y/N) and Grim, turned to the sudden outburst. Babkak had half way thrown himself out of the doorway entrance to the gym, hand extended in a Stop motion. Omar guilty peaked out from the door frame. 

“Uh, I mean,” Babkak said, back peddling. 

“You should stay!” Omar jumped in. “I mean, we should all stay to watch practice! Support your local team and everything!” He weakly punched the air. “Go team?” 

Jamil opened his mouth to chastise them again before (Y/N) spoke, “That sounds fun. I don’t get to see you guys play too often. If that’s okay with you, though.” 

“Oh, um,” Jamil stuttred. 

Floyd jumped up, throwing himself over Jamil’s shoulders and smiling wide. “Of course you can stay! You can watch Sea Snake show off!” 

Jamil elbowed him. “You’re the one who shows off, Floyd.”

(Y/N) shrugged, smiling. (And Jamil definitely didn’t feel his heart flip.) “I don’t have any plans.” 

As everyone got back in position for practice, Ace took his place, whispering to Jamil, “Remember: Ortho has a laser cannon.” 

Jamil rolled his eyes. 

From the corner of his eye, Jamil saw the group of Scarabia first-years shuffle into the bleachers around (Y/N) and Grim. He thought he saw a few of them hiding objects behind their backs, but was pulled back to the game before he could investigate further. 

He lost himself back in the game. Sneakers squeaked against the waxed wooden floor, the bounce of the ball reverberated around the gym, each quick and practiced movement by the players blurring at the edge of Jamil’s vision. Another player passed him the ball. He faked left, turning around Floyd, before lining up a shot at the three point line. He raised the ball, arms tensing in preparation to shoot and- 

A blare of sound echoed through the gym, bouncing off the acoustic walls and tumbling down around everyone in attendance. The ball slipped from Jamil’s hands, falling uselessly in a pathetic arc and bouncing across the court floor. Jamil turned to the bleachers where the noise had come from. The first-years, Jamil now recognized them as the string quartet from earlier, now made up a brass band. The noise he had heard was the blast from a tuba. The rest of the band joined in, trumpets, french horn, and bugle. They started playing a high-energy marching tune. How many instruments did these people know how to play anyway? Omar and Babkak had red and yellow pom poms, waving them enthusiastically. Babkak passed a pair to a bewildered (Y/N). 

“Go, Vice-Housewarden Jamil!” Babkak cheered. 

“Show them who’s boss, sir!” Omar whooped. 

Everyone froze, looking from the impromptu cheering section and band to Jamil then back again. Jamil’s face felt as hot as the Scalding Sands desert at noon. It didn’t help at all when Floyd started cackling. 

He began to march over to confront his dorm mates, again, when a new echoing sound made him pause. (Y/N) had thrown her head back in laughter. She stood, waving the pom poms above her head. 

“Go, Jamil, go!” She cheered. 

Jamil was pretty sure he was going to spontaneously combust at any second. 

*

The rest of practice had been a disaster. Every time Jamil got the ball the bleachers would erupt in noise, distracting him and everyone else trying to play. Jamil had never felt so off his game, fumbling the ball, bumping into his teammates, and losing focus at every moment that mattered, and most of the ones that didn’t, too. He purposely avoided turning in the direction of the cheering squad, partially because he wanted to discourage whatever activities the first-years were insistent on doing, and partially so he didn’t have to see (Y/N) cheer for him so enthusiastically. (And, maybe, so she wouldn’t be able to see how flustered he was becoming with every second.) 

A teammate had patted Jamil’s shoulder in sympathy as they headed to the showers after practice. “Don’t worry,” He said. “I bet she still likes you.” 

Jamil resisted the urge to punch him. 

Now, at least, he was back in a rhythm of something he knew how to do: cooking. Ever since his stint in the Culinary Crucible, the ghost chefs had tapped him and a few other stand out cases to help out in the kitchen every once and a while. 

The kitchen filled with the scent of roasting spices and sizzling meat, spilling out into the cafeteria sitting area. Students had started lining up way before the kitchen officially opened to secure their plate of Jamil’s cooking. Jamil felt the tension melt out of his shoulders, much like the butter in the pan he was currently using, as he fell into his familiar rhythms. 

“Thanks again for your help,” One of the ghost chefs said, floating by with a steaming bowl of freshly made turmeric rice. 

“Not a problem,” He replied. “It gets me out of my own head.” 

“Oh?” Another ghost asked. “Having troubles, youngster?” 

“Girl troubles, maybe?” Another snickered. 

All the ghosts jumped as Jamil brought down a butcher knife to decapitate a fish. They collectively decided it was maybe best to drop the topic, already deceased or not. 

“Ah, Jamil, chef, sir?” A student volunteer said, warily eyeing the butcher knife. “Someone was having an issue with their meal. They wanted to talk to you.” 

So much for his relaxation. Jamil quickly let the others know what to keep an eye on in the kitchen and headed out to the main sitting area. He scanned the tables. It looked like everyone was enjoying their food as far as he could tell. He looked back into the window of the kitchen. The volunteer student pointed at a table near the back by a window. He was about half way across the room when he realized that the student was a Scarabia student, a first-year in fact. And, now that he thought of it, he didn’t think he had seen that student in the kitchen before he had come to talk to Jamil. 

Jamil froze, seeing exactly who was sitting at the indicated table. This was a set up. He turned around to go back, only to be stonewalled by two now very familiar Scarabia students. 

“Hello, sir!” Omar chirped. 

“Taking your dinner break?” Babkak asked. “Great! We have the perfect table for you.” 

They both hooked their arms around Jamil’s and practically dragged him over to the table where (Y/N) and Grim sat. 

“Oh, hi,” She said, blinking at the surprise arrival. Jamil felt his throat tighten and couldn’t formulate a response. 

The musically talented first-years descended to the table, quickly picking up her plate of food to whisk a tablecloth over the table, setting down a candelabra which was quickly lit, and a vase with a dozen roses. 

“Roses,” Omar whispered to Babkak with a sly smile. Babkak rolled his eyes. The two shoved Jamil into a seat opposite (Y/N). A plate of food was set in front of him. The sneaky Scarabia student from the kitchen grabbed Grim, shoving a plate of tuna tartare in his paws before he could protest. Then, the group of wannabe restaurateurs vanished as quickly as they had appeared. The two left at the table, Jamil and (Y/N), looked at eachother with confusion. Jamil dropped his head to stare intently at his plate, stabbing at the sayadieh with his fork. 

“Hey,” Jamil was jerked out of his thoughts by (Y/N)’s voice. “I wanted to apologize for earlier, at practice. It looked like we were a pretty big distraction.” 

“You don’t need to apologize,” Jamil said. “It wasn’t your fault.” He glared at the first-years eagerly watching from a table a safe distance away. 

“Yeah, but still, I don’t need to make your life any harder.” 

Jamil looked up at her. She was twirling her spoon around the tabouli, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. “You don’t make my life harder,” he insisted. “In fact, you’ve made a lot of things easier. My relationship with Kalim is a lot better now, for one thing.” 

She smiled at him, and his heart definitely didn’t skip a beat. “Well, glad I can help, then. But don’t sell yourself short. You’ve been doing a lot of work since everything that happened.” She waved her hand, regarding the invisible thing they both understood. It was still hard to talk directly about his Overblot, the manipulation, abuse of magic, and kidnapping aside. (Y/N) had told him she wanted to give him space for it, to consider how he felt and talk to others at his own pace, but still trying to address the root of the issues. That was when she had started organizing those sessions between her, Jamil, and Kalim, giving them a place to directly talk with each other without outside pressures and influences, helping them work things together as friends instead of the master/servant role Jamil so often felt himself confided to. 

“This is great, by the way,” (Y/N) interjected, scooping up a mouthful of tabouli. “I can always tell when it’s your cooking. Thanks for those leftovers the other day. I know Grim really likes them too.” 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” He said. He didn’t say, “I didn’t make it for Grim. I made it for you.” He blanched at the intrusive thought and snatched up his water glass, taking a large gulp and trying not to choke. 

“You sure you’re okay?” (Y/N) asked. “You’ve seemed kind of on edge all day.” 

“I’ll deal with it later,” Jamil said, looking over at the first-years who started enthusiastically nodding and giving him thumbs-up. 

(Y/N) drummed her fingers against the table.  “Listen, actually, there’s been something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about-” 

“Lgeimat!” Jamil shouted. 

She blinked at him. “Sorry?” 

“The lgeimat! I left them in the fryer! Sorry, have to go, have a good night!” Jamil shot up and zipped back to the safety of the kitchen. 

“I didn’t know we were having lgeimat tonight,” Omar said from their spying perch. 

Babkak thudded his head on the table at their third defeat. “We’re not.” He grumbled. 

*

Jamil collapsed on the low couches in the Scarabia common room, arm flung across his face to cover his eyes from the late evening light. The day felt like it went on forever. Jamil had caught himself constantly looking over his shoulder, jerking at every unexpected sound, in anticipation of an over eager group of first-years. 

“Hi, Jamil-Oh,” Kalim stopped himself, looking over at his drained friend. “You okay?” 

Jamil sighed in response. “Long day.” 

“Oh.” Kalim sat down next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Jamil peered out from under his arm at Kalim. At least that was one improvement, again, thanks to (Y/N) specific intervention. Kalim had slowly been teaching himself not to jump to conclusions or take it upon himself to fix everything by throwing money or extravagance at it, but by taking the time to hear other people, namely Jamil, out first. Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t throw money or extravagance at the problem in the end, but progress was progress. 

Jamil gave Kalim a halfhearted glare. “It’s all thanks to that rumor you started.” 

Kalim blinked. “Rumor? Oh, you mean about how you’re in love with-”

“Yes!” Jamil cut him off, sitting bolt upright. “That! Some first-years heard you the other day and have been following me around, trying to start up some grand romantic gesture.” 

“Oh, yeah, I heard about that. I think it’s sweet.” 

“Sweet?” 

“That everyone believes in you! Everyone knows how hard you work. We all want to see you happy and with the person you love.” 

Jamil stood. “Kalim, I’m not-” 

“Nope.” Kalim said shooting up. He put his hands on the taller boy’s shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You’ve been different ever since winter break. You smile more when (Y/N)’s around. You’re not so tense all the time. And whenever we’re in a group, like at the cafeteria or dorm meetings or parties, you’re always looking for her. And when you see her your whole face just lights up! Do you know how often you talk about her? It’s a lot, Jamil! ‘Oh, I wonder what (Y/N) would think about this. Do you think (Y/N) has that in her world? Do you think (Y/N) likes spicy or sweet food? Do you think (Y/N)’s doing okay at Ramshackle? Do you think she needs help with any repairs like when we stayed there during VDC training? (Y/N) sure works real hard to catch up with a whole new culture. Do you think (Y/N) would want this extra curry?’”  

“I don’t sound like that,” Jamil protested weakly. 

Kalim sighed, hands on his hips. “I’ve known you my whole life. I know what you’re like when you’re mad, I know what you’re like when you’re sad, I know what you’re like when you’re happy, and now I know what you’re like when you’re in love.” 

Jamil pushed back. “I’m not in love with her!” 

“Yes, you are!” 

“I’m not-” Jamil cut himself off. He felt suddenly dizzy. He sat down hard. “Oh, I’m in love with her.” 

Kalim threw his hands in the air. “Yes! Thank you! Finally!” 

“But,” Jamil continued, and Kalim tried really hard to keep his frustration to himself. “I can’t tell her that. I can’t… put that kind of pressure on her. She has enough going on with Grim and Ramshackle and trying to find a way home and… Sevens, she’s going back home, Kalim! I don’t know when or how, but she won’t even be in this universe! And what, I’m just supposed to show up and dump this emotional baggage on her when she already has everything else to worry about?” 

Kalim sat down next to Jamil. He twirled his fingers together, trying to collect his thoughts. Why was it always so hard to know the right thing to say? “You said feelings were like a two way street yesterday, remember? So don’t you think (Y/N) should have a say too?” 

“Kalim, I can’t-”

“Yes you can!” Kalim shouted, jumping up and clapping his hands. “You’re Jamil Viper! If anyone can do it, can do anything, it’s you! And keeping everything bottled up isn’t fair to you or her or anyone. So-So-” Kalim frowned, trying to look stern, a very strange expression for the normally boisterous boy. “So go tell her how you feel right now, and let her decide what happens next! That’s an order as your house warden!” Kalim flinched. “Please.” 

Jamil stared at him for just a second too long, making Kalim squirm with worry that he had gone too far. Then, Jamil sighed, resigned, a half smile on his face. “Well, if my house warden is ordering it, how can I say no?” 

*

Despite what he had told Kalim, Jamil dreaded every step towards Ramshackle dorm. Even with the ‘order’ from his house warden, Jamil considered turning back. Instead, with each uncertain step, he plotted out exactly what he would say. Was it just as simple as ‘I have feelings for you?’ Should he have some grand gesture ready? Absolutely not. Those first-years had spoiled that concept for him. 

Before he realized it, Jamil was walking up the pathway to the dilapidated dorm. He stood at the front step, fist up ready to knock. It hovered there. A plan, he still needed a plan. He couldn’t just walk in without a plan of what to say, what to do. He’d had the entire walk over here, how had he not come up with a more solid idea? 

The door snapped open in front of him, Grim hurdling out, crashing into Jamil’s chest. “What-? Oh, hey!” Grim said, rubbing his head at the bump then cracking into a wide smile at the sight of Jamil. “Did you bring us dinner again?” 

“Uh, no, not this time,” Jamil said, already thrown off. 

Grim frowned. “Meh, whatever. I’m going to Sam’s anyway to get some tuna.” 

“Milk and eggs!” (Y/N)’s voice called from inside. “You’re getting milk and eggs! And oranges if they have any.” 

“That too!” Grim said. He winked then sped off down the path. 

(Y/N) appeared at the doorway, clearly having sprinted to catch the dire beast before he left. “Grim, I said we don’t have the budget to- Oh, he’s gone. Right, sure, why not?” She sighed. “Hi, Jamil.” 

Jamil swallowed hard. “Should I come back later?” 

(Y/N) waved the idea off. “No, it’s fine, you’re already here. Come on in.” 

Jamil followed her into the dorm to the sitting room just past the entrance hall. Despite the age and wear of the building, it was clear that (Y/N) had taken a lot of pride in fixing it up and keeping everything in order. 

“Sorry, I was in the middle of doing dishes,” (Y/N) said, whipping her wet and slightly soapy hands against her skirt. “Go ahead and take a seat, I’ll get some tea and snacks.” 

“It’s fine,” Jamil said, quickly standing back up after having just sat down on one of the overstuffed couches. “I know where everything is, I’ll get it.” 

“No, no, you’re a guest. Take a break, I’ll get it.” 

“It’s fine really. I’m sure Crowly has been keeping you busy all day.” 

“And you’re just as busy. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

“No, really, I-” 

“Jamil!” Jamil jumped at her sudden outburst, his hands frozen in the air. She huffed and put her hands on her hips. “Honestly. You take care of everyone else all the time. Let me take care of you for once.” 

Oh no. Oh no. 

“Now sit down while I go make some tea.” 

He sat down. This was worse than he thought. He really was in love. 

She wanted to take care of him. Of him. When was the last time someone offered to take care of him, to lighten his load, to take responsibility for the burden? For as long as Jamil could remember that had been his job, his life. Kalim, Najma, his parents, the Scarabia students, everyone and everything. It was like he didn’t realize just how tired he was until (Y/N) offered to help. Why did her snapping at him just now make him feel so relieved? 

Almost without thinking about it, Jamil’s feet took him into the kitchen. (Y/N) was standing at the stove, setting down a heavy teapot on the burner. She was mumbling to herself about something, Jamil couldn’t really hear what. His ears were ringing. 

(Y/N) noticed that Jamil had come into the kitchen, turning to face him. She frowned, eyebrows knit together. “Jamil, I told you that - Oh!” 

Ignoring his anxiety, ignoring that nagging thought that he didn’t have a plan, ignoring the churning nervousness in his stomach, Jamil pulled (Y/N) into a tight hug, burning his face in her hair. 

“I like you,” He said, so softly that he had to repeat himself to make sure she heard, to make sure she understood the depth of his feelings. “I like you. I think I might even- I feel better when I’m with you, like I can be better. I don’t feel like everything I’ve done up until now is just in service to someone else, because all of those things lead me to meeting you. I feel like I can think clearly, that I don’t always have to be on alert. I want to take care of you, I want to be with you, I want us to be together. And I know - I know I’ve done horrible things in the past, I know you’ve seen me at my lowest. But you still see me, me, not anything else. Not the servant, not the diplomatic aid, not the Overblot monster- How could I not fall in love with you? So, (Y/N), please. I just - please.” He wasn’t quite sure what he was asking ‘please’ for, he only hoped she would understand. 

(Y/N) trailed her fingers along his back, threading through his long hair. She pulled back, as much as Jamil’s embrace would allow. The corners of her eyes were dotted with tears. “Jeeze, Jamil,” (Y/N) said. “Way to steal my thunder. I wanted to say it first.” 

Jamil let out a cracked laugh, tears welling up in his own eyes. “You did?” 

(Y/N) hiccuped, laughing. “Yeah, of course. I thought I was being kind of obvious with it. I finally decided to suck it up and tell you at dinner earlier, but you just ran away so I thought you knew what I was going to say and didn’t feel the same.” 

“Sorry, I guess I was nervous. And those first-years all day…” 

(Y/N) laughed out loud. “I was wondering what was up with that. Was that Kalim or something?” 

“For once, no. They took it upon themselves to try and set us up.” 

“Aww, they care about you.” She hugged him close. “And I can see why.” 

*

That weekend, it was finally time for the Welcome Spring party, and there were, indeed, more flowers than usual. Kalim was flitting around, making sure everything was organized and where it needed to be. Jamil had asked if he could leave for the morning, coming back when it was time for the party to start. And, even though he had been the one to ask for the time off, Jamil had double checked that it was okay with Kalim no less than a dozen times before he actually left. Kalim insisted repeatedly that he would be fine, that he had a handle on everything. And, maybe, for the most part he did. It definitely helped that Jamil had assigned tasks to several other dorm members the night before to make sure Kalim didn’t get too overwhelmed. 

Just as the golden hour set in, magical floating lanterns bobbing along in the air amid swirling flower petals, the guests started to arrive. Kalim had sent out a recommended dress code ahead of time, requesting pastels, whites, and gold. Something to fit in with the refreshing and floral mood he wanted to create. Mostly, he was happy to report, everyone was able to follow the requirements. Heartslabyul students especially were rigidly adhering to the dress code under the watchful eye of their house warden. Most of them wore pinks, as it was the required color when taking care of the dorm flamingos so they already had something that would fit the theme. Savannaclaw didn’t much stick to theme, but had tried to comply with sticking puffy peony blossoms through belt loops or behind their ears. Octavinelle wore light blues and corals, studded with shimmering scales, pearls, and other bits of underwater flora. Scarabia, of course, as the hosts, were the most bejeweled, taking inspiration from the fairy gala that had inadvertently plunged the campus into chaos, but also resulted in beautiful flowing white and gold garments. Pomfiore stayed mostly in lavenders and lilacs, highlighted by golden embroidery in fantastic scenes and shapes. Ignihyde, for those who did show up, dug out whatever was the lightest color in their wardrobe, mostly staying in light blues. Similarly, no one was expecting much from the usually dour-toned Diasomnia. But, not wanting to create a social fopaux at one of the few events he had received an invitation to, thanks to (Y/N) reminding Kalim to expand his guest list at the last minute, Malleus had ensured that all his dorm members wore mint and emerald green with gold dotted throughout. 

There was a noticeable absence of two usually prominent figures, but Kalim assured everyone Jamil and (Y/N) would be arriving soon. And, although Jamil had tried to slip in quietly while everyone’s attention was focused on the dance floor for an aerial ribbon performance, Kalim’s squeal of delight quickly diverted everyone’s attention. Jamil held in a groan as attention whirled to him and (Y/N). They both wore outfits from the fairy gala, meticulously designed and created by Professor Crewel. She squeezed his hand in support, dragging him further in, head held high while ignoring the stares. A few Scarabia students gave congratulations, thumping Jamil’s back as he passed. Ace caught Jamil’s eye from the other side of the room. He pointed to Ortho, who was waving excitedly, and drew a finger across his throat. Jamil rolled his eyes. 

As the aerial dancers finished, (Y/N) drew Jamil to the dance floor. As a band kicked up (seriously, how many instruments did those Scarabia students know how to play?), (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Jamil’s neck as he placed his hands on her hips. He really hoped she wouldn’t notice how sweaty his palms had gotten. 

“You’re nervous,” (Y/N) said. “I’m not used to seeing you like that.” 

“I’ve just never really done this before,” Jamil said. “Not dancing, I’ve done that plenty. Just the whole relationship thing. I never really had a chance before. I don’t want to mess this up.” 

“I think you’ve been doing pretty good so far.” 

Jamil smirked. “It’s been two days.” 

“Well, see? You’re gaining experience already.” She leaned forward, placing her head on his chest. “I’m nervous, too, you know. Not about this. I’m really confident how I feel about you, and I want to stay with you for as long as I can. I mean about everything going on around us. There’s a lot of unknown. Technically, you know, I don’t even exist. Don’t have any papers like a birth certificate or passport or even a valid nationality. But I know I have great people helping me out, including you. And knowing they’re on my side, it helps make things a little better. And I’m on your side. So everything will work out, you know?” 

Jamil hummed. Lowley, in a quiet voice so he could dismiss it if she didn’t hear him, he asked, “Can I kiss you?” 

(Y/N) looked up at him, smiling, eyes twinkling. “I’d like that.”  

*

Off to the side, behind a bolt of silk cloth, Babkak handed Omar a 20 madol note.

[mysaintkitten]

more free use/dumbification for tommy and robert please i beg!! ur so talented!

thank you so much !! and although this request asked for free use or dumbification, it’s mostly the latter. will definitely be writing more free use fics though !!

Nocturnal | Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

prompt: a late night run in with Tommy (lol)

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI), sort of mean tommy, unprotected sex, dumbification

Ada Shelby had been your closest friend for as long as you could remember. Everything you’d been through, good and bad, was made manageable with her by your side. The only thing you couldn’t stand was her brother, Tommy. Just the thought of him alone made you want to roll your eyes.

He was arrogant, stubborn, dominant, and worst of all: devilishly attractive. It drove you mad. How could such a gorgeous face be attached to such a vile man?

You’d even bicker occasionally over the smallest things before Ada would come between you and act as a mediator, because of course neither of you could push your pride down long enough to just end the conversation.

But, due to life simply being unpredictable, you had to distance yourself from Ada for about a year. You still stayed in touch, weekly letters updating each other about your lives and new experiences, but life had just become too hectic to make genuine plans.

Luckily though, things began to mellow out and eventually you and Ada were able to make plans to have a sleepover- just like old times.

The two of you spent the late night and early a.m’s chatting and giggling like school girls, until you noticed Ada’s faint snoring as you told a long elaborate story about a horrific professor you had to deal with. With that, you realized the night had come to a close.

Before you followed her in drifting to sleep, you decided to get a drink of water before bed. Tiredly, you left her bedroom and trudged towards the dimly lit room. As you stepped into the kitchen and reached for a glass from the cupboard, you quickly realized you weren’t alone.

“(Y/N)?” You hear a familiar male voice mutter from behind you, causing you to jump and nearly drop the glass out of your hand from being startled. You swiftly turn around on your feet, only to see Tommy sitting there. Of course he’s around the moment Ada’s asleep.

As he sees your face he chuckles and brings a cigarette up to his lips, “didn’t mean to scare you, love.”

“A bit late for that …” you mumble back while trying to relax your racing heart, “why are you up so late?”

Tommy raises his eyebrows and smirks before answering, “I could ask you the same question.”

“Me and Ada were talking, I wanted some water before bed,” you answer as you fill your glass up, “and you?”

“What were you two girls gabbing about? Makeup? Boys?” Tommy replies while ignoring the question you’d asked him, you shake your head and sigh. Tommy knows where your aspirations lie, he’s just trying to push your buttons.

“I don’t exactly have time for a boys right now, my focus is on university,” you clarify before taking a sip of water.

Tommy chuckles condescendingly as he hears you mention ‘university’, earning a confused glare from you as you take a step closer towards Tommy’s seat at the kitchen table.

“What’s funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” Tommy assured unconvincingly between inhales, “I just don’t think university is the best way for a young woman to spend her time.”

Your face contorts into visual disdain, it’s times like this where you wonder if he’s being obnoxious just to piss you off or if he’s truly just this annoying, “and where exactly do you think a young woman should be spending her time?”

“Women are happiest when they’re kept in their place,” Tommy explained flatly as he takes a drag of his cigarette, “doing housework in the day, and in bed taking her husband’s cock at night.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his ignorant and blatantly misogynistic remarks, what kind of women has Tommy been around for him to genuinely believe this?

“I’m not sure what kind of ladies you’ve been seeing, Tommy, but most women I know have dreams, ambitions, goals,” you retort as you take another step closer towards Tommy with a foreign sense of confidence, “and they desire much more in life than being just some man’s personal come dump.”

He chuckles while putting out his cigarette, proceeding to stand to his feet and slowly make his way over to you,

“Thats what you all think,” Tommy states lowly as he walks closer and closer, “that you’re special and different, but really, you’re all the same. Once you get fucked so good you’re seeing stars, all those little dreams go out the window.”

You step backwards ploddingly as your cheeks burn, not knowing how to respond to Tommy’s crude comment. Suddenly, his face is mere inches away from yours.

“And judging by your little proclamation,” Tommy’s gaze drifts to your soft lips before locking eyes with you again, “you haven’t experienced that, love.”

You couldn’t define what you were feeling, frustration? Exhaustion? Arousal? Your body buzzed with inscrutable energy, and the rational part of your brain attempted to take over and de escalate the situation.

“I-I should just go to bed, Tommy …” you whine weakly as your eyes nervously dart around, suddenly finding Tommy’s stare and demeanour incredibly overwhelming. His dominance mixed with the masculine scent of whisky and tobacco made your heart flutter.

“Why don’t you just see what it’s like, hm?” Tommy purrs as he places his hands on your hips, you suck in a quick surprised breath- but you don’t push him away, “to get fucked so good you forget your own name …”

You didn’t know what came over you; maybe it was the fact that it had been so long since you’d been properly touched, or because part of you had some sort of attraction toward Tommy, but you found yourself wanting more.

Tommy notices your hesitance and tries to warm you up the best way he knows how by placing gentle kisses on your neck, causing your mouth to drop open with a small gasp. He smirks when you react exactly how he was expecting you to. As he continues to kiss, his left hand snakes down your back and grips your ass.

“What if Ada hears …” you whine back, feeling pitiful at how easily you gave into his advances. Tommy hums against your neck before pulling his head out and easing his hand up to the small of your back.

“She’s a heavy sleeper, we’ll be fine,” Tommy breathed as he feels his straining cock twitch in his pants. With his hands on your hips, he turns you around so your back is flush against the front of his body.

“Hold on to the counter,” Tommy coos into your ear as he grabs your wrist with his strong hands and placed them onto the counter in front of you, “and keep your mouth shut.”

You anxiously grip the counter, involuntarily noticing your equally high levels of lust and consternation. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth when you feel Tommy’s hands begin to bunch up the back of your dress, appreciating the view of your ass with a low grunt. With his free hand, he hooks his finger into your panties and tugs them to the side, uncovering your holes for him.

Using the same hand, he runs his middle and ring finger between your folds while you already start to struggle staying quiet, he chuckles breathily as he feels your arousal spill onto his fingers.

“Do you always get this wet when men force themselves onto you?” Tommy groans as his fingers slide up towards your clit, rubbing small circles onto the sensitive nub from behind. Instead of answering, you can only moan for him while your core burns hotter with desire.

“Poor girl, so eager for cock she can’t even talk,”

With his hips pressed against your ass, he hastily yanks his pants down to free his member, it’s heat laying tantalizingly against your cheek. He grasps the base of his length and aligns it with your opening, forcing himself inside with one abrupt thrust.

You yelp unexpectedly at the fullness before biting your lip again, mumbling a few apologies as Tommy keeps his cock deep inside you before pulling out and slamming back into you.

With each thrust, the ability to stay quiet is growing more difficult. You continue to bite your lip so hard it may draw blood, but breathy whimpers still get punched out despite your best efforts.

“O-oh, fuck-“ you moan as you feel Tommy’s balls brush against your clit with every pump, taunting you with potential friction against your most intimate area.

Tommy changes his angle and slams into your spot head on with seasoned accuracy- clearly his various encounters with women have paid off.

“A-ah!” You sob loudly while your legs shake beneath you, nearly giving out if you weren’t currently white knuckling the countertop. Tommy groans against your neck, his hot breath sending chills down your spine.

“Quiet down, love,” Tommy growls into your ear as he clasps his hand over your mouth, his thrusts becoming deeper and more precise, “we wouldn’t want Ada hearing you.”

With a heavy hand silencing you, Tommy makes his thrusts harsher, almost painfully smashing into your cervix. He mumbles a few praises about how wet you are and how good you feel, your body buzzing from the approbation.

In the midst of ruining you, his hand slips away from your mouth and your needy whimpers can be heard along with Tommy’s heavy breaths. Not loud enough to disrupt Ada, but loud enough to be heard by anyone who could pass by the kitchen. The adrenaline and eroticism causes that intoxicating pressure to begin to build up inside you.

“What would she think, huh?” Tommy teases with a low groan, “seeing her astute friend become a filthy little dumb whore all for her big brother …”

“F-fuck-“ you cry out breathlessly as your sopping cunt flutters around his length, “‘s huge-“

Tommy laughs thinly while slamming into you, “too big for you, sweetheart? Can you feel it stretching out your cunt?”

“Y-yes, fuck-k!”

“(Y/N)?” Ada calls out tiredly from her room, “are you okay?”

Tommy halts his movements inside you, his tip pressing firmly against your spot. You let out a shaky pant before turning around slightly to peak at Tommy. He stares back at you with a cocked brow, silently commanding you to respond to her.

“I’m f-fine, sorry, just bumped my h-hip …” you stammer weakly, barely being able to think of an explanation let alone form a proper sentence while Tommy’s cock is still splitting you open.

Ada’s too tired to pry further, so she just takes you word for it. Once he knows the coast is clear, he slowly builds his thrusts up to that same deep, harsh pace.

“Only thing I told you to do was stay quiet, and you couldn’t even fuckin’ do that, have I fucked you stupid already?” Tommy scolds angrily as he locks a hand into your hair and yanks your head back towards him, the sting of the pull only pushing you closer to your orgasm.

“Uh-huh,” you mewl, the humiliation makes your cunt clench and weep around him greedily, your toes curling as your back arches against him.

“Maybe we should spend more time together, hm?” Tommy decides as he nips your earlobe from behind, licking the shell of your ear soon after, “you get to bitch and moan about how ambitious women are, and then I get to watch you go brainless on my cock. How’s that sound?”

You nod and whimper even though you’re ironically barely processing what he’s saying. Tommy can tell how wrecked you’ve become, and he doesn’t hesitate to relish in it.

“You were much too pretty for a career, anyway,” Tommy insisted as he felt his own orgasm begin to coil up inside him while his grasp on your scalp tightens, “the way your cunts gripping me right now … I think you were crafted for this, love …”

Your senses are overloaded with pleasure and you’re convinced you’ve never been fucked this good before. Sadly, just as Tommy expected.

“C-close,” you stutter as you feel yourself begin to tip over the edge while squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Tommy chuckles and continues the same pace, sneaking one of his hands to the front of your body and placing the pads of his fingers directly onto your clit. Not rubbing, just leaving his digits there with firm warm pressure.

“That’s it, don’t think. Just drench my cock, baby,” Tommy growls as he feels your channel flutter around him. And with a few more pumps, you’re coming around his length. You nearly shout out before Tommy covered your mouth again, not wanting to give Ada a reason to get up and check what was going on herself.

After seeing and feeling your orgasm take over you, Tommy feels the pressure within him begin to burst. And just at the last second, Tommy slides his length out and shoots ropes onto you ass, making sure to not get any on your dress. He can be a gentleman, sometimes.

Once you’ve both ridden out your highs, only then does Tommy release his grip on your hair, both of your bodies achy and sweaty with exertion. He backs himself up and tucks his softening cock back into his pants.

Shakily, you turn around to face him, earning a genuine smile from him as he sees your post-orgasm fucked out expression. Cheeks flushed and eyes still glossy, he could get used to seeing this.

“How about we have another talk in the morning?” Tommy asks in a tone that you can’t exactly read, but judging by his expression and body language- you believe he’s being authentic. And you couldn’t lie, the thought of another ‘talk’ with Tommy is dangerously tempting.

—

I hope I did this justice <\3 as much as I love dumbification I feel like I can’t write it properly :( I’m going to keep trying !! because if I’m anything it’s persistent lmao

[greenorangevioletgrass]

give me a minute (1/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: established former relationship, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, discussions of separation and divorce, luca and reader has a son, unresolved sexual tension 👀 notes: this fic has been the bane of my existence for the last couple of months or so. it all started as a simple thought of "ooh it would be fun to have a steamy smut with ex!luca" and then it turns into a whole thing with like proper angst and stuff lol. this will be split into two parts, and i think i need encouragement to finish the second part. so please enjoy this first part and tell me what you think! ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted of my latest fics! ✨

03:49 PM

Everything is fine, you keep telling yourself.

Your soon-to-be ex-husband is flying in from Denmark to finalize the divorce—and even after two years of exhaustive paperwork and mediations and court proceedings, you still don’t know how to feel about this. His visit to New York is meant to be a consolation prize for your six-year-old son Alfie, whose only facetime with his dad lately is through… well, FaceTime. But, given how extraordinarily difficult he’s being—fussing over his breakfast, stalling shower time by a record of 48 minutes, refusing to wear anything you picked out for him… you have an inkling that he might be a little nervous to see his father.

And to make matters worse, it’s raining cats and dogs outside, which delays Luca by two hours now and actively threatens the zoo outing he has planned out for him and Alfie.

So… despite the shitstorm that is happening in your apartment and out, you keep telling yourself that everything is fine.

Because it is. Your home is tidy enough, with all the toys and the mess tucked away in their little cubbies. Your son is dressed up enough; he’s finally put on his pants and shirt, although you missed a button and he won’t let you fix it. The storm is outside, and you’re safely sheltered in. And your relationship with your ex is civil enough, so you feel…

Fine enough.

But the doorman buzzes in, and you can definitely tell the awkwardness in his voice. “Afternoon, Ma’am. I have your husband— I mean, Chef Luca— I mean Mr. Bailey—”

You sigh, not having the energy to let this go on. “Yeah, yeah. Send him up.”

Alfie looks up from his coloring book and practically jumps out of the couch. “My tummy hurts, I’m gonna make a doodie!”

“No running!” You remind him just a second too late, watching him dash over to the bathroom and slamming the door closed. He has a nervous stomach just like you, and as you feel the icky twist in your gut… you can’t help but empathize with his antics today. You would be fucking shit up too, if you only could.

There’s a knock at the door, and you brace yourself as if you’re about to let the storm itself in (although, quite frankly, you probably are). Your hand feels clammy, and you have to wipe it off on your dress before you unlock the door and turn the knob.

“Hey.”

If the storm was a person, you wouldn’t have associated it with the man standing before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With boyish features and dark blond locks like gentle daylight. It feels like a reach to imagine the seven years of your relationship with him was, indeed, an epic fucking hurricane.

Still. 

You can’t help that you miss him.

“Come on in.” You step aside, not really meeting his gaze.

He murmurs a small thanks and apology, a staple combination in Luca’s British vernacular, as he squeezes in through the door with his duffel bag and suitcase.

“I thought you’d dropped these off at your hotel before you came here.”

“I know. I was going to, but…” he puts down his bags close to the jacket closet, like he always does, “But I got held up for ages and traffic was awful and I didn’t want Alfie to wait even longer, so…”

“Right.” You nod absently. “Well. He’s in the bathroom, should be out in a second, so… have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Um, water’s fine.” He takes his seat on the dining table.

You’re not sure which one is more jarring; the sheer familiarity of this, or the fact that it isn’t anymore. The two of you just hovering in the home you used to share, courteous but distant.

Luca looks around the place, and notices all the differences right away. You kept the glass dining table and two of the chairs, but changed the corner seating into a plush dining bench against the kitchen island. He recognizes Alfie’s favorite stuffed bunny on the couch, although the throw pillows were new. But he takes one look at the wall… and his heart drops.

Gone are any traces of him in the snapshots of your life. The pictures are all of you and Alfie—eating ice cream in the park, grinning and showing his first lost tooth, dressed up on Halloween… He really shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed to find the wedding portrait gone, or the vacation selfie in Italy four years ago. But it hurts quite a bit to find a generic flower portrait replacing the picture of him kissing you on the forehead while Alfie, laying on your chest, merely hours after his birth.

“Yeah, I…” you clear your throat as you hand him the glass of water, “…did some redecorating.”

“It looks good.” He manages a stiff nod, taking a hesitant swig of water.

“You look…” good, you want to say. Because he is. He’s got that tan and the haircut that reminds you of when you first met him years ago. But you can’t say that. So you settle with, “You look well.”

He meets your eyes, really meets your eyes for the first time, and you try to convince yourself the little flutter you feel inside is just your nervous stomach. But he smiles, soft and earnest. “So do you.”

You turn back and open the fridge, welcoming the cold air and how it cools down the burning warmth on your cheeks. Trying not to freak out and decide what you’re getting, so you don’t look like an idiot. Your hand grabs a can of ginger ale, and you sigh in relief.

“How’s Alfie doing in school?”

“He’s doing alright. He’s enjoying his art classes. Math is still a struggle, but Ms. Rashad says his reading is quite advanced for his age.” You relax a little bit into the conversation. The topic of your son resets you a little bit into a somewhat common ground as co-parents. Plain and simple.

“Definitely takes after you. My dyslexic ass could never.”

You smile at that. Small jokes are still there, always a good sign.

“And the, uh…” he lowers his voice, “the anxiety?”

“Comes and goes. He’s been complaining about a stomach ache all day.” You glance towards the bathroom.

He frowns in concern. “Should we go check on him?”

“Sure…” You walk together with Luca following suit, tentatively knocking at the door. “Alfie? Hey bub, how’s your doodie?” It sounds silly, but you find it helps to ask open questions instead of showing your worries outright.

A flush from inside. “There’s no doodie,” he hollers. His voice is murmured from the barrier, and then the running tap water.

You catch the unease in Luca’s features, and you feel a little bad for him. It wouldn’t feel great that your own son is nervous to see you after many months apart. “You wanna come out, then? Your dad’s here.” You try to sound cheerful and upbeat, hoping it’ll hype them both up.

The two-second gap never felt so long. But the door opens, and there he is, standing meekly against the frame. Staring up at you and then at Luca.

Luca’s heart nearly stops as those big doe eyes stare up at him, a spitting image of you. The same softness. The same spark of stubbornness.

The same vulnerable look.

“Hey, bub.”

“Hi.”

“Can I get a hug?”

There’s a brief pause, before he steps forward and throws his arms around his father’s middle. Luca grunts softly, a little surprised by the sheer force Alfie is hugging him, his heart swelling three times over.

“Oh my God, look at you!” He ruffles the boy’s dark hair and kneels down to level with him. His cherubic face is small cupped in his large hand, but not as small as Luca remembered it. “You’re so tall now!”

“Of course. I’m 3 feet and 8 inches tall now. Right, Mommy?” He proudly announces, getting the exact height completely memorized.

“That’s right,” you confirm with a grin. 

Luca gasps, a smile blooming on his face. “What?”

Alfie nods. “I’m gonna be as tall as you.”

“No! Don’t grow up so fast!” He playfully cries out.

“Why?”

“Because I won’t get to do this anymore!” Luca seizes his boy into his arms and sweeps him off of his bunny-socked feet, sending Alfie into a fit of hysterical giggles.

The sight makes you chuckle, but the feeling could bring Luca to happy tears. He’s been gone for so long, he’s afraid he’d forget how it feels to hold his son in his arms again. Or worse, that his son would find his presence alien.

But he’s here now. With you and the son you share. Attacking Alfie in tickles and noisy kisses, and letting the boy climb him like monkey bars. And it calms his anxious heart a bit as he reminds himself, everything’s fine. 

And as things fall back into place, thunder crashes outside, as if sobering all of you back into reality. Alfie shirks into himself, climbing off of his father’s back. You want to reach out for him so badly, but at the same time, not wanting to interrupt his bonding time with his dad.

“It’s okay, bub. It’s just thunderclap,” Luca soothes emphatically over the sudden silence, bringing Alfie back down to his feet. He smooths his son’s hair gently, comfortingly. “I got you, I got you…”

“Do animals even come out in the rain?” Alfie is back to his withdrawn self, mumbling his words and avoiding Luca’s gaze.

“Some animals actually love playing in the rain,” you chime in helpfully.

Luca keeps his tone cheerful and bright. “Yeah, and you can wear your raincoat and your wellies and I’ll even let you jump in puddles—”

“I don’t wanna do that! I wanna stay home!” He whines, voice raising a little.

“It’s your dad’s time—”

“No!”

“Alfie.” Your tone is firmer now, as he struggles out of his father’s arms and runs to his favorite corner of the couch in the living room, holding his stuffed bunny tight. 

But Alfie’s got a point. This is not the kind of rain where you can take a leisurely stroll in. No, this is the kind where you stay huddled inside and hope it doesn’t flood the streets. Luca takes a thoughtful look at Alfie who is sulking and shrinking from the sound of thunder, at the window completely obscured from rain, and then at you… offering an apologetic smile.

So much for quality time with his son. 

Luca’s heart sinks a little. He sighs in defeat. “Maybe we should just wait it out…”

“Are you sure? I mean, you flew 9 hours to see him—“

“And I don’t want him to be pissed at me the whole time we’re hanging out,” he reasons. “Besides, I don’t think any Uber would take our order at this time.”

It makes sense, you think. As much as you want this awkward little broken family dance to end, you know that staying in and waiting it out is the best option. Alfie would feel much more comfortable at home than in whatever hotel Luca is staying in. And maybe it’s your protective side talking, but if he ever gets fussy, you’d prefer to be around to deal with it.

“Alright, fine.”

“Yeah? Is that okay with you?”

You shrug. The truth is a little more complicated, but ultimately you settle with a simple, “yes.”

Alfie takes a quick glance at you and Luca emerging from the hallway (you have your mother’s side eye, Luca always said), before returning to fiddling his stuffed bunny’s ears (your father’s neutral look of disapproval, you would say). Like clockwork, Luca takes the seat next to Alfie, while you take the puffy stool in front of him.

“That wasn’t very nice of you to raise your voice at me and your dad like that. I get that you’re nervous about the weather—a bit startled, too— but still. We don’t raise our voices in this household.”

Alfie looks at you and Luca. “I’m sorry.”

Luca nods in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry for being late, buddy.” He gingerly reaches out to touch the boy’s hand. “You’re right, though. It might be best to stay in for a bit.” He motions at the rain hammering down on the window outside.

“I told you. I wanna stay at home.”

“I know. And we are for now. We can…” Luca scans around for something to do. His eyes fall on the coloring book and the open box of color pencils next to it. Bingo! “We can… color some drawings in that book?”

He pouts, not entirely sold on the idea but not outright refusing it either. 

“Or, hey, I got some new drawings on me. You can color them, too.” Luca takes off his hoodie and shows off the tattoos on his arms.

God, you forgot about the plethora of trashy tattoos adorning his skin. Even worse, you forgot how it highlights the defined curves of his biceps. Focus, for fuck’s sake! You avert your gaze towards the flower portrait on the wall. 

Alfie perks up a little. “This is my old drawing.” His tiny finger pokes at his forearm, on a tattoo of a stick figure climbing up the stairs. “You still have it?”

“Of course. It’s there forever. I’ll always have it.” Luca finds himself choking up at that simple admission. A little token of childhood of his ever-growing love. “Go on, get your crayons.”

Alfie looks at you as if seeking permission, and it makes you want to laugh that he shares the same animated eyebrows as his father. 

“Go ahead, bub,” you usher him off lightly, and as soon as he’s out of sight, nods at your ex. “Good save.”

Luca half-smiles. “Thanks. You should chill out. Read a book, take a nap or something. I got him.”

“What, are you trying to kick me out?”

“No, I just—”

Your smile breaks out. “I’m kidding! Go hang out with Alf. I got a Zoom meeting in a few minutes anyway.”

He sighs in relief, chuckling lightly. “You almost got me there…”

You briefly pat his shoulder and for an even briefer moment, his hand is atop yours. The big ‘A’ tattoo on the back of his hand—your son’s initial in a bold Gothic letter— serves as a reminder of what’s past; a whirlwind romance, the wild days of being a family of a merry band of misfits…

Misfits. That’s the biggest takeaway here, you suppose. Your pieces don’t quite fit right. Not without little Alfie gluing you together. 

With a final squeeze on Luca’s shoulder, you make your way to your bedroom, making space for Luca’s puzzle pieces to fit with Alfie’s because they don’t fit yours anymore.

***

05:04 PM

By the time your Zoom meeting ends, the pelting rain outside is louder and the chatter inside is nearly inaudible. It feels nice for about ten seconds… until you remember that you have a six-year-old at home and long bouts of silence can be quite… well, suspicious. You pad out into the hallway to check on him.

“Let’s see. You wanna do the sunflower next? What do you think, my love?”

Oh right. For a moment, you forgot that the thirty-year-old other parent is here with him.

Luca has his t-shirt sleeves hiked all the way up, biceps in full display as Alfie colors in a tattoo on the back part of his upper arm. The boy’s tongue sticks out and his eyebrows furrow in focus. It seems like a delicate operation between them, so you linger out of sight for just a while longer.

“Why do you like sunflowers, Dad?”

The two of you have always supported his inquisitive mind, and he missed these kinds of questions most of all. Even if the answers can be a little complicated. “Because of your mum, actually.”

“You like it because Mommy likes it?” Alfie’s little nose crinkles.

Luca chuckles in amusement, sensing the judgment in his son’s tone. Damn you guys for teaching Alfie not to get carried away by trends. “Well… when your mum and I first met, it was winter in Chicago and it’s pretty bleak and gloomy and freezing. But, your mum had a little sunflower by the window—just like that one.” He glances at the little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “She said it’s a reminder to let the sun shine in. I thought it was adorable. We started doing that everywhere we lived and… I don’t know, it reminds me of home.”

“Do you have a sunflower by your window, Dad?”

His heart catches as he realizes the answer. “No, I don’t…”

“Why? You don’t miss home?”

There’s a sharp pang of hurt in hearing that innocent query. The apartment in Copenhagen, as nice as it is, has never been much of a home for Luca. He would get up before the sun is up and return from work late at night—lather, rinse and repeat. On his days off, he would either go on a morning run and spend much of his time outside, or sleep til noon and live on instant ramen and takeout. There’s no time for a sunflower by the window. No room. He made sure of that.

He doesn’t deserve one after leaving his wife and son for fucking Noma. 

Luca swallows back the lump in his throat, although the slight waver in his voice gives him away. “I got my sunflower right here, bub. My little piece of home.” He taps on his arm softly as his son finishes up. 

Alfie hums, pleased with how the tattoo looks, now filled in with yellow and black and brown crayons. “I think this is my favorite one.”

“Yeah? Not the tabasco?” Luca grins, looking down at his forearm—specifically at the mostly accurate red and green of the hot sauce bottle.

“No…” Alfie taps his chin with his finger thoughtfully. “This one is prettier.”

Luca maneuvers around to look at the sunflower tattoo a little better. “You’re right, it is much prettier. Maybe I should get the colors in permanently, huh?”

The boy’s face lights up. “Can you?”

“Yeah. I think I will. Nice job, my little tattoo artist.” Luca pulls him into a bear hug and kisses the top of Alfie’s head. 

You can’t help but chuckle, glad to see them bonding again, lost in your thoughts for a moment.

“Mommy! Dad says I can be a tattoo artist!” Alfie snaps you out of your reverie.

“Is that right?” Your eyebrows shoot up, struggling to maintain a neutral expression while staring at Luca like with all due respect, what the fuck?

He raises his hands in surrender. “I just said he’s my little tattoo artist, that’s all.”

“I colored in all of Dad’s tattoos! Look!” Alfie tugs at his dad’s arm, beaming as he shows off his work.

You step forward, studying the results of the tattoo makeover. Every single tattoo is colored in; some accurately, like the sunflower and tabasco, while others (like the purple fish and chips and blue scotch bonnet)… not so much. You don’t know which one’s more amusing; your son’s artistic style, or your ex’s bashful look as he models the art works on his arms. 

“Looks great, bub. Well done!” You ruffle Alfie’s hair, enjoying his improved mood.

“Can I watch Bluey now?”

You purse your lips comically. “I don’t know, bub. Why don’t you look at your checklist on the fridge and see if you can?”

Alfie bounds past you, towards the fridge, and reads the checklist out loud to himself. “Have you… brushed your teeth? Yes. Brushed your hair? Yes…” He flattens his wavy locks with the palm of his hand, continues reading with a lower murmur. “Mommy, I did everything except tidy up my room and play outside for 30 minutes!”

“Okay. Obviously we can’t play outside, so… why don’t you just go clean your room and I’ll let you watch Bluey for a bit?”

Alfie gamely nods and goes into his bedroom, his bunny socks muting his footsteps against the hardwood floor.

Meanwhile, it takes you an extra beat to realize how close you’re standing with Luca without your child between you. He rolls down the sleeves of his black t-shirt sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Your meeting went okay?”

“It’s alright.” You look at literally anything but the man in front of you, ultimately stopping at your potted sunflower by the windowsill. “That storm out there, on the other hand…”

“Yeah…”

You take an inconspicuous look at the hallway, making sure your son is out of earshot. “Weather reports say it might last a few more hours.”

Luca huffs, trying not to stress out about the possibility of street floods. Of all the things he missed, New York thunderstorms are not one of them. Still, this shitty weather has granted him some time with his son, at his former home… with his former spouse. And God, does he miss this more than he dreads the weather…

“Want me to make you guys dinner?” He offers earnestly.

You pull back, returning to your normal volume. “Oh. No, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. Really. Might as well, right?”

You hear heavy footsteps from the bedroom and Alfie hollers from the hallway. “I’m all done!”

“Don’t forget your crayons!”

Alfie promptly makes a beeline towards his leftover mess. “Heard, Mommy.” He hurriedly puts his crayons back in the box and rushes into his room to put it away. Returning mere moments later with a newfound spring in his steps. “I’m done for real! Now can I please watch Bluey now?”

“I can cook while he gets his screen time.”

The two boys look at you with their best puppy eyes, and it’s the most disarming thing you’ve seen in a while—and the resemblance between them only makes things worse. You playfully roll your eyes in relent. “Alright, alright. Go ahead. Watch your TV and make your dinner.”

There’s a quiet little yesss from Alfie as Luca low-fives him before they scatter, one to the living room and the other to the kitchen. For a moment, you feel like you were transported back in time. For the first time in over two years, you’re caught between cartoon sounds from the TV and the kitchen alive again. All was well in the household. 

“Is he still a picky eater?” Luca mouths the last two words inaudibly.

You raise your eyebrows in confirmation. “All he wants to eat is chicken nuggies.”

“I can do chicken nuggies,” he shrugs easily, rummaging through the freezer and takes out a pack of chicken breasts. “Or some version of that.”

Upon overhearing the key word, Alfie’s head all but whips toward Luca. “We’re having chicken nuggies for dinner?”

“Er, kind of.”

“Can I help?” He perks up from the back of the couch, excitement bubbling over.

Luca smiles apologetically. “Maybe later, my love. Daddy’s gonna be using a big knife…” he says as he checks the blade closely, swiping it with his thumb. “…which is dull, by the way. When was the last time you sharpened this?”

“I… have no idea.” You frown. You don’t even remember sharpening any knives… ever. Meanwhile, Luca simply rummages through the kitchen drawer, which makes you ask, “What are you doing?”

“I’m sharpening it,” he states matter-of-factly, already setting up a makeshift sharpening station which… what?

“Didn’t even know we had that,” you murmur plainly as you watch him work. Taking out a block of whetstone from the drawer (where did that even come from?) and running it under the sink. Laying out a kitchen rag and the stone on top of it.

He chuckles a little, scraping the blade against the stone at an angle, firmly but carefully. “Can’t leave you good Santoku knives without the proper sharpening tools, right?”

“You never taught me how to do it, though.”

“Yes, I have.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“What are you talking about? Back in Chicago, I—”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that was one time forever ago! And you never let me sharpen the knives. You literally always do it.”

He pauses, grinning bashfully. “Fair…”

For the umpteenth time that day, Luca’s heart catches—this time from hearing you laugh. Your warm voice rings so pleasantly in his ears, and the way your face lights up… he almost forgets there’s a storm outside, because he’s got a lovely summer day right here in front of him.

And honestly, what is beautiful sunny Copenhagen compared to this warmth of the two people he loves the most?

“Alright, alright. You want a refresher? Come here.”

You gingerly take the place next to him, arms crossed so as to not invade his space. Neither of you say anything when your shoulders brush against each other. It’s brief, painstakingly so, but eerily familiar. You wouldn’t admit that you want to stay pressed against him a little longer, but… you do.

“Okay, so. You see this bit right here?” His finger runs up the line where the blade flattens into the edge. “Rest the knife on the stone on this angle, start from the heel—near the handle— and just… bring it in,” he demonstrates the inward sliding motion—short and precise and repetitive, “and work your way up to the tip.”

You silently watch him work for a moment, handling the knife. Firm and steady, but not harsh. On the contrary, it’s almost… delicate. You’ve seen many chefs work in your lifetime, but no one is as composed or stoic (or handsome, but that is beside the point) as Luca. It’s quite fascinating. 

“And you do this on both sides, right?” You vaguely recall.

“Good memory.” He nods appreciatively. “Some people like to do each side one at a time, back and forth, but I like to do one side, get that burr forming…”

“What’s a burr, sir?”

Luca chuckles at your little Hamilton reference. “So when you work on this side, you’ll feel a nice little rough bit forming on the other side like this.” He slides his thumb from the knife’s spine to the edge and carefully guides your hand through the motion. “Feel that?“

Yes. That should be an easy enough answer, because yes, you do feel the rough edge of the excess metal on the blade. But it’s a bit hard to focus on that when you’re more fixated on the rough calluses of his fingertips instead…

In theory, playing a knife with your almost ex-husband is as bad as a bad idea can get. In practice, though… Having your hand in his again, feeling him so close to you, smelling his perfume…

“That’s the burr. Once you get it on one side, you can switch over to the other side and balance it out.” His voice is lower now. Softer. “And you just… do it over and over again until you’ve worked off the burr and have a smooth and sharp blade.”

Luca switches the knife to your other hand and stands behind you, hoping to God you can’t feel his pounding heart as his chest presses against your back. Gently guiding you through the sharpening motion—the firm, steady, angled scraping of the blade towards you. You swear to God, every pull brings him just a tad closer.

“So you basically have to break the knife a little to fix it?” 

“That’s basically it, yeah.”

The storm feels miles away. His hands are still curled against yours. His chest flush against your back. His body heat emanates from within him and shrouds you like your favorite cardigan.

“Listen, I—”

“Thanks… for the refresher.” And with that, you put the knife down on the kitchen rag and pull away.

It takes him an extra second to snap out of it and step back to make way for you as you retreat back into your bedroom. “Yeah, yeah. No problem.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck your fucking life to hell.

***

if you've reached the end of this page, thank you so much for reading! do tell me what you think, reblog, send me asks, thoughts, ANYTHING. i would LOVE to hear your opinion!!!

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER NINE ━━ Mending

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 9.2K (bruh i should’ve split this in two)

☆ ━ warnings: mentions of conversion therapy, sexual content (fingering)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: this is sooo long and not proofread but i hope the length and the content make up for me not posting last night lol

“NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

Thaliah’s voice rings out firmly, leaving no room for argument as it fills the space of her bedroom. The statement feels like a slap, and Paige, who sits cross-legged on the floor, snaps her head up, eyes locking onto Thaliah’s.

“Why?” Paige asks, the offense clear in her tone.

Thaliah doesn’t miss a beat, looking at her like she’s completely lost her mind. “Oh, I don’t know,” she starts, sarcasm dripping from every word, “probably because she dropped us after being friends for years, then acted like a complete bitch for months. And, what? Now that she and Hudson broke up and she’s lost all her popular friends, she’s suddenly crawling back to us?” She shakes her head, crossing her arms in defiance. “Absolutely not. And, Paige, don’t forget she literally broke your heart!”

Paige feels the words hit her like a punch in the gut, a bitter reminder of the pain she’s been trying so hard to push down. Broke your heart. That part stings the most, because it’s true, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.

She swallows hard, trying to keep her voice steady. “Come on, Thal—”

Jalen, who’s been quietly scrolling through his phone on Thaliah’s bed, cuts in, his voice calm but dismissive. “P, Dani doesn’t even like basketball that much. She doesn’t need to come.”

Paige whirls around to face him, her frustration bubbling to the surface. It’s been a couple of weeks since the night of the season-opener—since Dani and Beau called it quits, and since Paige and Dani kissed at the park. That kiss had been everything Paige had imagined for so long, but it hadn’t been a magic fix for all the hurt between them. Not by a long shot.

They haven’t kissed again since, but things have shifted between them. Conversations that once felt awkward and strained are easier now. More and more, Dani smiles at Paige the way she used to—like she knows Paige better than anyone else. It’s the kind of smile that makes Paige’s heart do this stupid little flip in her chest. But it still feels like they’re walking on egg shells around each other, and Paige knows it.

Still, they’ve hung out a significant amount since and there’s been so much real progress. Paige can only hope soon everything will be almost entirely normal again. At this point, the only thing that’s truly missing is the four of them together and friends—Paige, Dani, Thaliah, and Jalen. Like it’s been for years.

But, clearly, the latters of the quartet do not feel the same. Especially because now, in Thaliah’s room with her laptop open and ready to purchase Timberwolves tickets, a tradition that’s been theirs since they were kids, neither Thaliah nor Jalen are interested in Dani coming. Even though she’s always come with them. Even though this is their last year together before college splits them up. Paige can’t stand the idea of Dani not being there, and—even with all of the recent drama—she can’t believe that her other two best friends can.

“She’s come every year,” Paige argues, her voice tightening. “It’s tradition. It’s our thing. And this is the last time we’ll all be together before we leave. She’s coming.”

Thaliah raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Not unless she apologizes. To both of us.”

Paige’s frustration spikes. “She’s tried to! But you still have her blocked, and you completely ignore her at school!”

Thaliah scoffs, her expression hardening. “She blocked me first!”

Jalen, ever the mediator, sighs. “Look, Paige, it’s not that we don’t get it, okay? But Dani ghosted us, and she was a total asshole. She can’t just show up like nothing happened. Especially not after everything she did to you.” He looks at Paige, his tone softening. “I mean, seriously, P—you of all people should be the last person defending her right now.”

The room goes quiet after Jalen’s words sink in, the weight of the truth pressing down on Paige’s chest. She knows what they’re saying isn’t wrong. Dani did hurt her—badly. She spent months wondering what she did to drive Dani away, nights crying herself to sleep after Dani told her they couldn’t be friends anymore. The memory still twists her stomach in knots, but—

“She’s been through a lot,” Paige says quietly, though there’s a tremble in her voice now. “You guys just don’t know the whole story.”

Thaliah’s eyes narrow. “Then enlighten us, Paige. What’s Dani been through that justifies all her shitty behavior?”

Paige bites the inside of her cheek, feeling the familiar wave of protectiveness rise up in her. She can’t tell them. She knows what Dani’s been through—everything she’s faced with her dad, the conversion camp over the summer, the fear and guilt that’s been eating her alive. It’s not Paige’s story to tell, though. And despite everything, the blonde knows Dani isn’t ready to talk about it, not yet.

She shakes her head. “It’s not my place to say.”

Thaliah scoffs, throwing her hands in the air. “So we’re supposed to just take your word for it? Without any explanation? We’ve all been through shit, but we didn’t treat our friends like crap because of it.”

Paige clenches her jaw, trying to keep her cool. “It’s not the same, Thal. Dani’s different now. You don’t know what she’s been dealing with, but she’s trying to make things right. She’s tried to apologized.”

“When? To who?” Thaliah presses. “She sure as hell hasn’t apologized to me or Jalen.”

“I told you—she tried. But how’s she supposed to if you won’t even give her a chance?”

The argument spirals, voices rising as Paige, Thaliah, and Jalen go back and forth. Every time Paige feels like she’s getting somewhere, they push back harder, reminding her of all the ways Dani hurt them, all the reasons they have for keeping their walls up. But Paige is tired—tired of having to defend Dani over something that’s hardly even her fault to begin with, tired of feeling like the only one who still believes in her. Her hands clench into fists, her throat tight with emotion.

“She’s been through enough,” Paige says, her voice cracking with exhaustion. “You guys have no idea what she’s been through. But I’m telling you—she’s trying. She’s doing the best she can. And you need to cut her some slack.”

Thaliah crosses her arms again, her expression stony. “If it’s that serious, then tell us what’s going on, Paige.”

Paige’s jaw tightens. “I can’t. You know that I would if I could. But it’s not my business to tell—seriously.”

Silence stretches between them, thick with tension. Paige can feel her pulse pounding in her ears, frustration clawing at her throat. She knows she’s not getting through to them, but she doesn’t know how else to make them understand. All she wants is for them to see the Dani she knows—the Dani who’s struggling but trying to make amends, trying to rebuild what she broke.

Finally, Thaliah sighs, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Fine! Fine, Jesus Christ, she can come.”

Paige lets out a long breath, but it’s not relief she feels. It’s something closer to exhaustion, the kind that weighs heavy on her chest. She can tell by the look on Thaliah’s face, the tension still radiating from Jalen, that this isn’t over.

IT’S SATURDAY, and Dani’s sitting on Paige’s bed, fiddling with her hands as the silence stretches between them. She shifts uncomfortably, pulling at the sleeves of her Timberwolves hoodie, trying to figure out how to bring up the topic that’s been gnawing at her ever since Paige told her they’d all be going to the game together. Dani’s stomach churns at the thought of seeing Thaliah and Jalen again. It’s been months since things got bad, since she cut them off—cut everyone off, really—and she’s not naïve enough to think they’ll just welcome her back like nothing happened.

She glances at Paige, who’s sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, her face focused as she scrolls through something on her phone. Dani takes a deep breath, feeling her nerves bubble up inside her.

“How bad is it? Like, seriously.”

Paige freezes, her thumb pausing mid-scroll. She doesn’t look up or make eye contact with Dani, which isn’t a great sign. Instead, she moves closer, sitting beside Dani and reaching out to gently run her fingers over one of Dani’s braids.

“These are cute,” Paige says softly, the corner of her lips quirking up. “When’d you learn to Dutch?”

Dani’s heart stutters in her chest, just for a second, at the way Paige’s voice drops, warm and affectionate. The way her fingers ghost along the braid, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to touch her like this.

She clears her throat, ignoring the way her pulse quickens and instead looks at Paige pointedly, refusing to be distracted. “Seriously, Paige. What’s the damage?”

Paige sighs, her fingers stilling before slipping away from Dani’s braid. She drops her hand into her lap, her shoulders sagging slightly as if she’s been carrying the weight of this conversation for too long already. Dani can feel her heart rate pick up, the anxiety starting to claw its way up her throat.

It’s been a few weeks since the breakup with Beau, since the night she and Paige kissed in the park and the walls she’d built so carefully around herself began to crumble. They haven’t talked about it much, that kiss. There’s been this weird understanding between them, this unspoken agreement to focus on rebuilding their friendship first. But even that hasn’t been easiest thing. And now this—seeing Thaliah and Jalen again, the two people she’s ghosted harder than anyone—it feels like a hurdle she’s not sure she’s ready to face.

“They’re… hurt,” Paige finally says, her voice soft but steady. She’s always been honest with Dani, even when it’s hard to hear. “Thaliah’s pissed. Jalen, too. They feel like you just… disappeared on them. And that hurt them, Dani.”

Dani swallows, feeling the familiar sting of guilt settle in her chest. She knows that. She knows how much she’s hurt them. But hearing it from Paige, who’s probably been their buffer through all of this—it makes it worse somehow. She pulls her legs up, hugging her knees to her chest as she leans back against the headboard, her fingers picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her hoodie.

“I didn’t mean to hurt them,” Dani says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I didn’t know how to handle everything. And I know that’s not an excuse, but…”

Paige looks at her then, her eyes softening. She shifts on the bed so she’s facing Dani fully, one leg folded underneath her. “I get it,” Paige says gently. “But you gotta understand, Dani—they’re not just goin’ to forget ‘bout what happened. You have to make it right.”

Dani nods, the knot in her chest tightening. She hates this. She hates feeling like the villain in a story she never wanted to be a part of. But she also knows that Paige is right. If she’s going to fix things with Thaliah and Jalen, she has to own up to what she’s done. She’s been avoiding that for too long now, thinking she could just skate by, keep her head down, and hope everything blows over.

“How mad are they, really?” Dani asks, her voice small, almost like she’s bracing herself for impact.

Paige lets out a long breath, rubbing a hand over her face before meeting Dani’s eyes again. “Thaliah jus’ feels like you dumped us for the popular crowd, and now that you’ve lost them, you’re coming back to us as a backup. She said she wants an apology. Jalen… he’s more hurt than mad, but it’s still going to take time. He wants to understand why, but you kind of shut everyone out. Including me.”

Dani winces. The truth stings, but it’s exactly what she expected. “I didn’t mean for it to be like that,” she mutters, frustration creeping into her tone. “It wasn’t like I wanted to leave you guys. I just… I dunno, I was going through a lot of shit.”

She knows she sounds defensive, but she can’t help it. She’s been wrestling with her own demons for months, and as much as she knows she screwed up, there’s still a part of her that wants them to understand. Wants Paige to understand.

Paige tilts her head, studying Dani for a moment before speaking. “I know you were. I get that, more than anyone. But you need to explain that to them. They can’t just guess what you’re going through.”

Dani’s eyes drop to her lap, guilt mixing with frustration. “I don’t even know if I can explain it,” she admits, her voice cracking. “There’s just… so much.”

She feels the weight of everything pressing down on her—the months of confusion, of fear, of trying to figure out who she is while constantly feeling like she’s drowning in expectations she can’t meet. The summer spent at that camp, the suffocating guilt that still clings to her even now. It’s all too much sometimes, and Dani doesn’t know how to package it all neatly into an apology.

Paige leans in, her hand brushing against Dani’s knee in a way that’s comforting, grounding. “You don’t have to explain everything. Just start with ‘I’m sorry.’ The rest’ll come.”

Dani looks at Paige, her chest tightening again, but this time it’s different. There’s something warm in the way Paige is looking at her—something patient, something real. It reminds her why she’s here in the first place, why she’s willing to go through this awkward, painful reconciliation. She missed Paige. She missed her more than she could ever say.

“Okay,” Dani says quietly, nodding.

Paige smiles then, that small, gentle smile that always makes Dani feel like maybe everything’s going to be okay. The kind of smile that got her through middle school, through all the awkward, awful years of figuring out who they were together. And now, maybe, they’re figuring it out again.

Before Dani can say anything else, there’s a knock at the door, and the sound of voices filters in from the hallway—Thaliah and Jalen have arrived. Dani feels her stomach flip, anxiety tightening its grip on her again, but Paige squeezes her knee, a small reassurance before she stands up.

DANI SITS in the backseat of Jalen’s car, staring out the window, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The soft hum of the engine and the occasional muffled voices of Jalen and Thaliah are the only sounds filling the silence. It’s awkward—really awkward. The tension in the car is almost palpable, like a weight pressing down on Dani’s chest, and no amount of deep breathing is helping her get rid of it.

She glances over at Paige beside her, whose eyes are focused on her phone, seemingly unbothered by the uncomfortable atmosphere. Dani, though, can feel every second dragging on. She feels like she’s intruding, lacking the belonging she used to feel.

It isn’t supposed to be like this. Dani tried to fix things earlier, back when they were still at Paige’s house, standing awkwardly in the doorway as Thaliah and Jalen walked in. She’d worked up the courage to apologize, knowing that they both deserved it and it needed to be done. But before she could even get halfway through the first sentence, Thaliah cut her off.

“We’re late,” Thaliah snapped, her gaze avoiding Dani altogether. “We need to leave now.”

She hadn’t even looked at Dani, hadn’t let her finish. And now, Thaliah’s silent treatment is even worse. She refuses to acknowledge Dani’s presence, her eyes trained forward in the passenger seat, body angled slightly away as if Dani’s existence is something she’s choosing to ignore.

Jalen, at least, isn’t so bad. He smiled at her when they first got there, a small, hesitant smile that made Dani’s stomach unclench for a moment. He doesn’t seem to hate her, but the difference between how things used to be and how they are now is still glaring. His warmth feels distant, like a memory she’s grasping for but can’t quite reach.

Dani’s fingers twitch in her lap. She feels like she should say something; try to break the ice. But every time she opens her mouth, the words die in her throat, swallowed by the heavy silence. There’s this growing sense of dread in her chest, like she’s on the outside of a life she used to belong to, looking in through a foggy window.

Her mind replays her failed apology, over and over, until it stings so much she has to squeeze her eyes shut for a second. It’s worse than she thought it would be.

Beside her, Paige shifts slightly, adjusting her seatbelt. Dani feels a pang of jealousy at how effortlessly Paige fits into this scene, like nothing’s changed for her. Because it hasn’t really.

The car hits a bump, jostling Dani from her thoughts, and she presses herself closer to the door, feeling like she needs to take up as little space as possible. Her chest feels tight, anxiety winding itself up inside her like a spring ready to snap. She presses her nails into the palm of her hand, a small, grounding action she’s done a million times before.

Then, out of nowhere, she feels it. The soft brush of Paige’s pinky against hers. It’s so subtle that for a second, Dani wonders if it was just her imagination. But then Paige’s pinky hooks around hers, intertwining them in a simple, quiet gesture.

Dani turns her head to look at Paige, and even though Paige is still staring at her phone, the small act of comfort is enough to pull Dani back from the edge of her spiraling thoughts. Paige knows. She always knows.

The knot of anxiety in Dani’s chest loosens just a little, and she offers Paige a small smile in return. It’s not much, but it’s something. It’s a reminder that, despite everything—despite how different and weird everything feels—Paige is still here. Paige is still hers, in some way.

The silence stretches on again, thick and uncomfortable, but the connection between her and Paige helps. Dani keeps her pinky linked with Paige’s, like it’s her only lifeline in the storm of awkwardness swirling around them.

The car ride doesn’t last much longer. Soon, Jalen is pulling into the parking garage, and between him and Paige, the awkward energy in the car begins to bleed into one of excitement. Jalen’s grin is contagious, his eyes bright as he shuts the car off, and Paige is right there with him, a wide smile splitting her face.

Dani—not so much. She feels the heavy weight of the tension that’s been trailing her since the moment they got into the car, and from the way Thaliah’s sitting stiffly in her seat, Dani knows she’s not the only one. Thaliah is quieter than she’s been in the past, the sharpness in her expression tempered, but Dani can tell she’s still pissed solely because of her presence.

As they get out of the car and begin walking toward the arena, Jalen and Paige lead the way, talking animatedly about the Timberwolves’ latest games and their score predictions for today. Thaliah lingers behind them, silent, her arms crossed over her chest, and Dani is acutely aware of her presence at her side. She sees the dirty look Thaliah throws her, the subtle but deliberate shift in her body language as she moves past Dani to walk next to Jalen instead, seamlessly falling into step beside him like Dani doesn’t even exist.

Dani’s heart sinks a little further, the sting of it sharp despite everything. She already expected the cold shoulder, but seeing it—feeling it in every glance, every movement—makes it so much harder to ignore.

Paige notices it too. Dani catches the brief drop in Paige’s smile as her gaze flicks to Thaliah, eyes narrowing in irritation. Paige rolls her eyes, a quick flash of annoyance breaking through her usual composure before her grin returns. Without missing a beat, Paige wraps an arm around Dani’s shoulders, tugging her close, her body warm and familiar.

The side of Dani’s head rests against Paige’s shoulder, their height difference making the gesture feel even more intimate, like Paige is shielding her from the mess they’re all stuck in. Dani tilts her head up slightly, meeting Paige’s gaze as she grins down at her.

“This’ll be fun,” Paige says, her voice light and filled with optimism, like she’s determined to make this a good night despite everything.

Dani musters a small smile, trying to match Paige’s energy. “Yeah,” she says, but the word comes out flat, and she can see that it’s not enough for Paige.

Paige pinches Dani’s shoulder lightly, a playful edge to her voice as she nudges her again. “Come on, get excited, Dan.”

Dani forces herself to let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she leans a little closer into Paige’s warmth. “Alright, alright,” she says, her smile a little more genuine this time. “I’ll try.”

Satisfied with that, Paige’s grin widens, and she keeps her arm around Dani as they continue walking toward the arena. It helps, even if just a little. Paige has always had that effect on her, making things feel easier, less heavy. But it doesn’t completely erase the weight of Thaliah’s pointed silence, or the fact that Dani can practically feel the disdain radiating from her.

By the time they get into the arena and find their seats, Dani’s stomach is in knots again. The seating arrangement couldn’t have been worse if someone had planned it out. Jalen sits on one end, Paige right next to him, Dani beside Paige, and then Thaliah on the other side of Dani, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

Thaliah doesn’t say anything, but the look on her face says enough. She lets out a quiet scoff, her gaze fixed ahead as if she’s already checked out of the evening. Dani catches the slight roll of her eyes before she shifts in her seat, visibly tense, and Dani feels the urge to disappear all over again.

Dani sighs softly, sinking further into her seat and trying to shift away from Thaliah as much as possible without making it obvious. Her side presses into Paige’s, their arms brushing, and Paige doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, Dani thinks Paige probably prefers it this way, keeping Dani close and holding her steady like she’s done a million times before.

As the arena starts to fill with the low hum of chatter and excitement, Dani finds herself leaning into Paige just a little more, seeking the comfort she knows Paige will give her without question. She feels a soft pang of guilt, wondering if she’s relying too much on Paige to make her feel better, but the alternative—sitting there in silence, stewing in her own anxiety and the cold wall between her and Thaliah—is much worse.

It’s clear pretty early on into the game that they aren’t losing this one. Minnesota’s ahead, and the energy in the arena is infectious. Every time the Timberwolves make a good play, Jalen is up on his feet, yelling, and Paige is right there with him, her voice hoarse from screaming at the top of her lungs. It’s the kind of excitement that pulls you in, makes you forget about everything else. Dani finds herself caught up in it too, even letting out a few shouts of her own when Paige eggs her on, laughing as Paige grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her gently, her enthusiasm impossible to resist.

Thaliah, though, is a different story. She’s still sitting with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, barely reacting to anything happening on the court. Every so often, Dani glances her way and all she gets is a glare in return. Being close to Paige right now—feeling her warmth, hearing her laughter in her ear—makes everything feel a lot easier, though. Paige has her arm around Dani’s shoulder again, and they’re both giggling between plays, Paige whispering jokes and comments to her every so often, just loud enough for Dani to hear. It’s been forever since they’ve felt this close, and for a moment, Dani lets herself relax into it, lets herself enjoy the game, the atmosphere, Paige.

And Jalen—he’s warming up to her again too. At first, there had been a little distance between them, but now he’s talking to her like old times, nudging her shoulder when something exciting happens and even giving her a smile that feels genuine. It’s a small relief, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, things could get back to how they used to be.

But, for Dani, Thaliah’s discontent still casts a shadow over everything. She can’t fully escape it, no matter how much fun she’s having. It’s like a weight sitting on her chest. She wants to fix what’s happened between them—Thaliah has been one of her closest friends since the fourth grade. She doesn’t want to lose that—even though, if she truly has, she supposes it is her own fault.

At one point, Thaliah stands abruptly, muttering, “I’m going to the bathroom,” her tone clipped as she walks down the aisle. Dani watches her go, and the guilt she’s been carrying with her all night surges up again. She sighs, feeling the heaviness return as she stands up as well.

“You know what, I’m gonna go too,” Dani says to Paige, her voice quieter now.

Paige frowns, her eyes flicking to Thaliah’s retreating figure before locking back onto Dani. There’s a moment of hesitation, like Paige can sense what’s really going on, the unspoken tension that Dani’s been trying to push aside. “Do you want me to come?” Paige asks, concern lacing her words.

Dani shakes her head, offering a small, strained smile. “It’s fine. I’ll be quick.”

Paige’s frown deepens for a split second, but then she nods, giving Dani a quick squeeze on the shoulder before she goes. Dani makes her way through the crowded stands and down the hallway toward the bathroom, her heart pounding harder with each step. She doesn’t exactly know what she’s going to say to Thaliah, but she knows they can’t keep avoiding each other like this. Not anymore.

When she pushes the door open, the bathroom is surprisingly empty for a busy game like this. It’s just her and Thaliah.

Thaliah stands at one of the sinks, leaning over to check her reflection in the mirror. When she sees Dani walk in, she lets out an exaggerated sigh and rolls her eyes, not even bothering to hide her irritation. “Why did you follow me here?” she snaps, turning around to face Dani with crossed arms.

Dani swallows. “I wanted to talk to you. You didn’t let me apologize before, so I want to do it now.”

Thaliah scoffs, her expression hardening. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Despite the fact that she expected the response, Dani feels a pang of hurt at her words. Nevertheless, she presses on, refusing to back down. “Why won’t you even let me try?” she asks, her voice softer now. “I know I messed up, but—”

Before she can finish, Thaliah explodes.

“Because it’s not that simple, Dani!” Thaliah’s voice is sharp, her eyes flashing with anger. “You ghosted me. You. And you didn’t just ghost me, you ghosted all of us. And yeah, I get it, you and Paige are best friends, you always have been. But before all this happened, you were my best friend, too. Do you even realize that? You were my best friend, and then you just—disappeared. No explanation, no warning, nothing. And I had to sit there and watch you be fine with everyone else while I was the one who lost my best friend.”

Thaliah’s voice cracks at the last part, her hands trembling as she wipes furiously at her eyes, and Dani’s heart drops. She’s never heard Thaliah sound like this before—so raw, so hurt.

Thaliah takes a shaky breath, and when she looks at Dani again, her eyes are filled with tears. “I mean, sure, I’m close with Paige and Jalen, but it was never like how it was with you. You and me—we told each other everything. We did all the girly things that Paige and J refused to participate in. You were like my sister. And then, suddenly, it was like I didn’t even exist to you anymore. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

Dani feels her own tears welling up now, the guilt crashing over her in waves. She takes a step closer to Thaliah, her voice breaking as she tries to explain. “I—I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I swear I didn’t. I just… I was in a really, really bad place and I was looking for distractions and I didn’t know how to deal with what happened over the summer.”

Thaliah shakes her head, her tears falling freely now. “What happened, Dani? What was so bad that you couldn’t even talk to me about it?”

Dani’s throat tightens as she thinks back to the summer—how everything spiraled out of control, how she was sent away to that camp, how she shut down completely afterward. It’s hard to even think about it, let alone fucking talk about it. Opening up to Paige about it was one of the most difficult things she’s ever done.

But she owes Thaliah an explanation. She owes her more than silence.

So, Dani opens her mouth and explains.

PAIGE IS GLUED to the game, her eyes darting between the players on the court and the scoreboard. Minnesota’s still in the lead, and every play sends her and Jalen into loud cheers, their voices blending into the roar of the crowd. She’s so caught up in the excitement that for a moment, she forgets about Dani and Thaliah being gone for a while now.

But as a timeout is called, the creeping feeling of unease seeps into her chest. It’s been too long since they left. Paige starts to wonder if something went wrong. Her mind drifts to outrageous scenarios like Thaliah jumping Dani in the bathroom or the pair rage-screaming at one another. She should’ve gone with them, Paige thinks, her foot tapping anxiously as she debates whether she should go check on them.

Just as she’s about to make a decision, Paige catches movement out of the corner of her eye. She turns her head and sees them—Thaliah and Dani walking down the aisle toward their seats. As they get closer, Paige notices the remnants of tears on both of their faces, their eyes bloodshot and a bit puffy, like they’ve both been crying.

Her stomach tightens. Did something happen?

But then she sees something else—something that surprises her. They’re smiling. Not big, exaggerated smiles, but small, genuine ones, the kind that tell her things aren’t as bad as they seem.

When they sit back down, Dani takes her spot next to Paige, and Thaliah settles back into her seat on the end. Paige’s eyes flit between the two of them, trying to gauge the situation. She can’t help but blurt out, “Uh, is everything okay?”

Dani and Thaliah exchange a tiny smile before Dani turns to Paige. Her smile is soft, and before Paige can process it, Dani’s pinky hooks around hers. It’s the smallest gesture, but it sends a jolt through Paige, her heart pounding twice as fast as before. She can barely focus on anything else, her eyes fixed on their intertwined fingers. She did it before with Dani, in the car, but it means so much more to Paige when it’s the Callan girl initiating it.

“Yeah,” Dani says, her voice light, like a weight has been lifted. “We’re great.”

Paige exhales in relief, her shoulders sagging as the tension she didn’t even realize she was holding slips away. She glances over at Jalen, who seems to have noticed the shift too. His eyebrows raise for a moment before he grins, the same ease settling over him as well.

With that, the atmosphere around them changes. The tension that had been hanging in the air for most of the night dissolves, replaced with a warmth that feels almost nostalgic. It’s like things are finally starting to feel normal again, like the cracks between them have truly started to mend. Paige doesn’t know what exactly happened between Dani and Thaliah in that bathroom, but she can tell it’s something important—something that has brought them closer, and by extension, all of them closer.

Now, they’re all locked in on the game again, but this time, the mood is lighter, more carefree. Laughing, cheering, yelling. Paige is wrapped up in it all—Jalen’s infectious energy, Dani’s quiet giggling beside her, Thaliah’s occasional smile.

When the Timberwolves win, the place erupts, and so do they. Jalen’s on his feet, yelling like he’s won the game himself. Dani and Paige share a wide grin, their pinkies still linked, and even Thaliah’s laughing and cheering now.

The ride home is great, too, the tension from the day dissolved into laughter and easy conversation. Paige can’t stop smiling, her heart lighter than it’s been in weeks. Jalen’s blasting music, and he and Thaliah are in the middle of a ridiculous debate about the best Timberwolves player of all time, while Dani chimes in with little comments that show her lack of NBA knowledge (but, it’s okay, Paige has to give it to her—Dani’s much more versed on the women’s side of things). It feels like old times, like everything is clicking back into place, and Paige can’t help but soak it in.

Jalen drops them off first, pulling into Paige’s driveway. She and Dani both wave at him and Thaliah as they drive away. The car’s taillights fade into the distance, leaving just the two of them standing in the driveway under the quiet suburban night sky.

Suddenly, the lively energy from the car ride fades into something softer, quieter. The silence between them feels heavier now, almost awkward, but not in a bad way—just charged. Paige feels the weight of it, a kind of tension that makes her hyper-aware of how close they’re standing, the cool night air brushing against her skin.

They both glance over at Dani’s house next door. It’s dark, a single light on in the kitchen, and Paige wonders if Dani is going to head back home now. She doesn’t want her to. The idea of the night ending like this feels wrong somehow. Paige shifts on her feet, her fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of her hoodie, trying to find the right words without sounding desperate or clingy.

“So, uh,” Paige starts, her voice quiet, “you wanna… come inside? I mean, we could, like, have a sleepover or something. You know, like old times.”

She bites her lip, not wanting to pressure Dani but also not wanting to be without her. She half-expects Dani to hesitate or maybe even say no, to come up with some excuse about being tired or needing to go home. But to her surprise, Dani doesn’t hesitate at all. Instead, she smiles softly at Paige, her eyes warm and familiar in a way that makes Paige’s chest flutter.

“Sure,” Dani says, shrugging like it’s the easiest decision in the world. “I told my dad I was staying at Serena’s house anyway.”

Paige grins, a laugh bubbling up before she can stop it. “That bitch,” she says, shaking her head, knowing Serena has no idea she’s covering for Dani tonight, especially because the pair are certainly not friends anymore.

Dani laughs too, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, that bitch.”

The air feels lighter now, the awkwardness between them disappearing as they head toward the front door. Paige unlocks it as quietly as she can, her heart beating a little faster at the thought of spending the night with Dani, just like they used to. It’s been so long since things were simple between them. So much has changed, but right now, it feels like they’ve found a piece of that simplicity again.

Inside, the house is dark and still. Paige’s dad and Drew must already be asleep, and she’s careful to keep the noise to a minimum as they slip upstairs to her room. When they reach her bedroom, Paige flips on the lamp by her bedside, casting a warm glow over the space. Dani immediately flops onto the bed like she belongs there, and Paige follows, laying down next to her.

They’re both quiet for a moment, just staring at the ceiling, the comfort of being back in each other’s space washing over them. Paige turns her head, looking at Dani from the side, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You want pajamas?”

“Sure,” Dani says, voice soft and relaxed.

Paige gets up, heading to her dresser and grabbing one of her oversized basketball t-shirts and a pair of pajama shorts. She tosses them to Dani, who sits up to catch them, and then Paige pulls out her own pajamas. She starts changing, pulling off her hoodie and t-shirt, when she glances back at Dani.

Dani’s back is to her, bare as she pulls off her own shirt to change into Paige’s. The lamplight casts a soft glow on her skin, and for a second too long, Paige’s eyes linger. She doesn’t mean to stare, but something about the sight of Dani’s bare back, the curve of her shoulder blades, the way her hair falls loosely against her neck, makes her pause. Fuck.

Paige’s breath catches, her fingers frozen mid-way through pulling off her hoodie. She blinks, quickly looking away, shaking her head to clear the sudden rush of thoughts. She tells herself to get it together, to not think of Dani quite like that quite yet. She needs more time.

Paige turns back around, facing the opposite direction as she finishes changing, tugging on her own pajama shirt and shorts. By the time she’s done, she feels a little more in control of herself, though the memory of Dani’s bare back is still burned into her mind.

When she faces her bed again, Dani is already lying back down on the comforter, now dressed in Paige’s clothes. The sight of Dani in her shirt, her shorts hanging loosely on Dani’s hips, does something to Paige, makes her stomach flip in a way that’s both exciting and terrifying.

But she pushes the feeling aside, climbing into bed next to Dani. And it’s not long before they’re curled up under the covers, watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days—Dani’s pick, of course. It’s one of those movies she’s obsessed with, knows every line by heart. Normally, Paige would tease her about it, making fun of how she could watch it a million times, but right now, she can’t even think about anything other than how close they are.

Her room is freezing—like, Minnesota-in-the-dead-of-winter kind of freezing—and they’ve naturally started gravitating toward each other for warmth. Dani’s pressed up against Paige, her head resting on the blonde’s shoulder, her arm draped lazily across Paige’s waist. Paige has one arm around the brunette, and as much as she’s trying to focus on the movie, trying to lock her eyes on the screen, it’s hard. Really hard.

Because Dani’s skin is warm. Her legs are tangled with Paige’s under the blankets, her breath soft and steady against Paige’s neck, and all of it is making the basketball player’s heart race in ways she’s desperately trying to ignore. She tells herself it’s just because it’s cold, because this is what best friends do, but her body is betraying her. Every time Dani shifts, every time her fingers brush against Paige’s side, it feels like a shot of electricity running through the blonde, and suddenly, the cold is the least of her worries.

Paige swallows, forcing herself to focus on the movie. She’s watching Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson argue about something stupid on the screen, but her mind’s not there. It’s on Dani. Paige has got this growing warmth in her chest, and it’s spreading fast, heating up every part of her.

She tries to push the thoughts out of her head. Dani’s been through so much, and the last thing Paige wants to do is push her or make her feel uncomfortable. She doesn’t even know if Dani’s ready for anything after everything that happened with her dad and… well, everything else. She doesn’t want to be the one to rush her into anything, not when she’s finally here, back in Paige’s bed, back with Paige.

But then Dani shifts again, snuggling closer, and Paige feel the smoothness of her thigh against her own. She can’t help it; her heart skips a beat. She take a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, but it’s getting harder to think straight. The scent of Dani’s shampoo, the way her hand rests on Paige’s stomach—it’s all too much.

The blonde turns her head slightly, glancing down at Dani. She’s watching the movie, but Paige can tell she’s not fully focused either. Her eyes flicker to Paige’s, and in the dim light from the TV, the Bueckers girl can see something there—something that makes her stomach flip.

For a second, they just stare at each other, the space between them shrinking by the second. Paige’s heart pounds so hard she swears the girl beside her can hear it. But this is it. Paige knows it, and she can’t look away. The way Dani’s looking at her—it’s like everything that’s been building between them for weeks is finally about to snap.

And then it does.

Surprisingly, Dani’s the one who moves first. She leans in, closing the gap between them, and presses her lips to Paige’s. It’s soft at first, tentative, like she’s testing the waters, but the second Paige feels the warmth of her mouth on her own, she’s gone. Her brain short-circuits, and all the restraint she’s been trying to maintain disappears.

Paige kisses her back, probably a little too enthusiastically, but she can’t help it. One of her hands instinctively moves to the back of Dani’s neck, Paige’s fingers tangling in the girl’s brown hair as she pulls her closer, deepening the kiss. Dani tastes like the strawberry chapstick Paige watched her put on earlier, and her lips are soft and warm and everything the blonde has been dying to feel for longer than she cares to admit.

Dani’s kissing her back now, harder, her body pressing into Paige’s as they lie there, tangled in the sheets. Paige’s mind screams at her to stop, to slow down, but she can’t. She doesn’t want to. Her heart pounds in her chest, and every nerve in her body is on fire. The feel of Dani, the warmth of her skin, the way she moves against Paige—it’s intoxicating, overwhelming, and all the point guard wants is more.

Paige knows she should stop. She knows that if she’s not careful, she’ll scare Dani away again, just like before. She can’t mess this up. She can’t. But still, she doesn’t stop. She feels Dani’s fingers gripping her shirt, pulling Paige closer, and it feels like Dani doesn’t want Paige to stop either.

So she doesn’t.

Instead, she deepens the kiss, her hand sliding from the back of Dani’s neck down to her waist, holding her there like she’s the only thing keeping her grounded. Dani lets out a soft sigh against Paige’s lips, and it sends a shiver down the blonde’s spine. God.

In a sudden shift, Paige find herself on top of Dani, her knees sinking into the bed as she presses down against the brunette. Paige’s hands dig into Dani’s waist, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her fingertips. Paige can’t help but smile against Dani’s mouth, a thrill washing over her. Dani’s hands find their way into Paige’s hair, tangling in the strands, and the blonde shivers at the sensation. Dani’s so responsive, so willing, and it makes Paige feel exhilarated and relieved all at once.

As she kisses Dani, a wave of pure elation washes over Paige, and she realizes just how much she’s longed for this. She didn’t know how much she needed her like this until now. Paige can feel Dani’s warmth radiating up through and into Paige’s own body, and every touch ignites a spark that sends the blonde’s heart racing.

Paige starts to kiss along the Callan girl’s cheek, trailing her lips down her jawline, savoring the way Dani reacts. Her sighs are intoxicating, a melody Paige never wants to stop hearing. When she kisses along the brunette’s neck, a soft gasp escapes her lips, and it fills Paige with a sense of pride that she can elicit that kind of response from her. It’s fucking perfect.

Paige’s hands instinctively wander beneath the hem of Dani’s—well, technically her own—shirt, fingers gliding across her soft skin. The moment Paige realizes Dani’s not wearing a bra, her breath hitches. A rush of heat floods through her, a mix of surprise and unrestrained want that makes her heart race even faster.

Paige finds one of Dani’s breasts, wrapping her hand around it. She squeezes lightly, her thumb brushing over Dani’s nipple. Dani’s hand tightens in Paige’s hair and she’s pulling Paige back so that their lips are connected once more. Paige’s tongue slips its way into Dani’s mouth and she kneads her breast again, making Dani whimpers a little into the kiss. It only makes Paige kiss her harder. Dani’s lips feel like home against Paige’s, and the blonde can’t get enough of the taste of her, the softness that send shivers down her spine. Paige’s hands roam over Dani’s body, exploring, seeking, and finding every inch of skin that sends electric jolts through them both.

As Paige traces her fingers along Dani’s waist, she feels almost a magnetic pull drawing her lower. Her hand eventually finds the waistband of the loose pajama shorts Dani’s wearing, and Paige pauses there, heart racing, uncertainty flooding her mind. She’s kissing along the brunette’s neck, savoring her warmth, but Paige’s thoughts are tangled in fear. She doesn’t want to push Dani into something she isn’t ready for. The last thing she wants is to scare her away after they’ve fought so hard to get back here.

Paige breathes deeply, stealing a glance at Dani’s face, looking for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. But Dani doesn’t pull away, doesn’t hesitate. Instead, her grip on Paige’s hair tightens, and the blonde can feel Dani’s hips lift slightly against her, a silent permission that sends Paige’s heart soaring.

Emboldened by Dani’s response, Paige slips her fingers beneath the waistband of the shorts, her pulse quickening at the contact. She’s careful, her movements tentative as she goes beneath the hem of Dani’s underwear, too. Paige finds Dani’s clit easily enough, circling it slowly, carefully. The way Dani gasps at the touch is intoxicating, and Paige swallows the sound with another deep kiss, savoring the taste of Dani’s moans against her mouth.

Paige’s fingers move with more purpose now, circling Dani’s clit a couple more times before sliding her hand down slightly, pushing her middle finger inside. Paige hears Dani’s breath catch and so does her own as she feels Dani’s wetness coat her finger.

Paige has done this with other girls, done this with Dani once before, too—that summer night before everything went to shit. But this feels different; it feels better, deeper, as if all the months apart have heightened every sensation. Paige revels in it, enjoying the way Dani moves beneath her touch, the way she leans into Paige, wanting more.

Dani’s fingers are still tangled in Paige’s hair, pulling her closer, urging her on, and every gasp and sigh she releases ignites something within Paige. Paige’s lips linger along Dani’s jaw as she pushes her hand deeper into her pajama shorts, her middle finger pumping in and out of Dani’s entrance slowly. Paige is hyper-aware of the way the Callan girl’s breath quickens, how it becomes shaky and uneven as Paige’s finger moves slowly but surely.

Dani gasps again, mumbling as she shifts beneath the blonde a little, “P.” Her voice is desperate, like she needs more.

Paige hums, nodding against Dani, knowing exactly what to do. She slips another finger inside, stretching Dani out, pushing in and out, in and out, building a rhythm. Dani’s lips part and a moan slips out from beneath them. God, Paige could get lost in the sounds. Each whimper and moan that escapes Dani’s lips sends a thrill through the blonde, a rush of satisfaction that makes her want to hear more. It’s as if every sound that Dani makes is a piece of music Paige never knew she needed, and she wants to hit repeat, to keep her best friend whimpering like that for as long as possible. Each gasp, each sigh, it’s like a drug, and Paige is completely hooked.

Nevertheless, she knows that they have to be quiet. Her dad’s room is right next door, and Paige has no interest in waking him up and having him realize what exactly is going on in his daughter’s room. So, she presses her mouth back on Dani’s, swallowing her moans, humming in approval at the feeling.

Paige pushes her fingers deeper, a little harder, feeling the way Dani shivers beneath her. When Paige feels Dani lift her hips to meet her hand, bucking up, Paige knows she’s found the rhythm and the spot Dani needs. Paige smiles into their kiss, her teeth nipping a little at the brunette’s bottom lip. Dani responds eagerly, her hand that’s on the back of Paige’s neck pulling her closer, until there’s practically no space to even breathe. Paige doesn't care.

“Like that?” Paige whispers against Dani’s lips, keeping her voice low and steady, wanting Dani to know she can be honest with her. Paige feels Dani nod against her, her eyes half-lidded and glazed over as she manages to hum out a soft, “Mhm-hm.” Paige grins a little at the response, her tongue slipping back into Dani’s mouth as she kisses her harder.

Paige focuses on the spot she’s found, her fingers pressing in just the right way. The way Dani arches her back and digs her nails into the blonde’s neck tells Paige everything she needs to know. She curls her fingers in a come hither motion and it makes Dani’s hips stutter a little, the brunette gasping Paige’s name into her mouth.

“Doin’ so good for me, Dan,” Paige encourages, her voice barely above a whisper, urging her best friend on. She can feel Dani tightening around her fingers, feel her getting wetter and wetter with each thrust of Paige’s fingers. Paige hits that spot again and again, her thumb reaching up to circle Dani’s clit.

Dani’s breathing becomes more erratic, quick bursts of air escaping her lips as Paige continues to work her fingers, pushing her closer and closer. “So pretty, Dani,” Paige murmurs, even though she’s not sure if the girl can hear her over the sound of her own gasps. But Paige needs her to know—she deserves to hear it, to feel it in every part of her. “You’re so pretty.”

Suddenly, Paige feels Dani’s body tense, feels the way she’s clenching around her fingers. Dani’s nails are digging into the back of Paige’s neck, her grip tightening. Paige works her fingers harder, faster, hitting that spot again and again and again until her hand is cramping, but it doesn’t deter her. She keeps going until Dani’s muttering, “God, Paige, I’m gonna—” and she’s gushing around Paige’s fingers.

Dani’s body shudders beneath the blonde, her hips lifting instinctively to meet Paige’s touch as she helps her ride through her orgasm. Paige is lost in the way Dani’s body reacts, the way she clings to her as if she’s her lifeline. It’s everything Paige has ever wanted.

As she finishes, Paige feels Dani relax against her, her body softening, and Paige pulls her fingers out slowly. She pulls away from Dani a little, to see her face. Dani’s smiling lazily at her, and it makes Paige smile, too. Paige leans down to kiss her again, deeply, savoring the way their lips fit together.

I love you. Paige wants to say it. She’s never wanted to say anything more. But she doesn’t, instead keeps her mouth on Dani’s, afraid that she’ll ruin the moment and scare Dani away.

As the kiss ends, Paige gently rolls off of Dani, settling so they’re lying side by side. Dani’s arm drapes over Paige’s waist, and Paige pulls her closer, the feel of Dani’s steady breathing against her chest soothing in a way that grounds her.

They’re both quiet now, the sounds of the movie filling the room. Dani nestles into Paige, her face resting in the crook of Paige’s neck, and it makes Paige’s heart swell. There’s something so innocent, so peaceful about the way Dani clings to her, trusting and content.

It doesn’t take long before Dani’s breaths become slow and even, and Paige realizes she’s fallen asleep. Paige glances down at her, taking in the sight of her best friend—her person—so calm and safe in her arms. Dani looks so different like this, her usual guard completely down, her features soft and untroubled.

But as Paige watches her sleep, her thoughts begin to drift. She can’t help but think about all the shit Dani’s been through—the conversion therapy, the isolation, the fear. A tightness forms in Paige’s chest, a knot of guilt that’s been there for months. She knows some of it is her fault. She was the one that kissed Dani on the porch that night, right in front of the camera. Maybe if she’d waited until they got inside, Dani’s dad would’ve never found out and none of this would have happened.

Paige’s jaw clenches as she thinks about Dani’s father. The man who sent her to that camp, who made her believe there was something wrong with her. The anger that bubbles up inside Paige is almost overwhelming. She hates him for what he’s done to Dani, for the pain he’s caused her.

She presses a soft kiss to the top of Dani’s head, her fingers brushing lightly through her hair. Paige just wants to protect her. Keep her safe. Keep her happy. And most of all, keep her away from him—from the man who nearly destroyed her. Still, she knows that’s unrealistic. Dani lives with her father—he provides for her, he’s her guardian and shes still a minor.

Paige sighs, tightening her grip around Dani, holding her a little closer, a silent promise to herself that she’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Dani never feels that kind of pain again. She’ll be there, she’ll fight for her, and she won’t let Dani’s father mess with what they have.

As the weight of the day starts to pull at her, Paige closes her eyes, resting her cheek against Dani’s hair. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days plays on, but Paige isn’t paying attention to it anymore. All that matters is this—Dani here with her, the two of them together.

[chevelleneech]

semi-live blog

They are immediately the cutest fucking people when together. So soft, so giggly.

I know it’s part of their social culture, but they drink a lot. Maybe it’s because I don’t drink, but dang.

“Jungkook is currently doing his skincare.” They add to the screen after panning away for scenery, yet leaving the sounds of *slap slap slap*😭

Jungkook cycling through multiple pairs of sunglasses, and Jimin swanning in and picking the first pair is peak! They’re so similar I yet so different, lol.

Another thing I’m sure is part of their culture, is the way they pay for stuff, but I find it interesting still that we’ve seen Jimin buy almost everything during their trips, since as far as we know they have pretty lax hierarchy rules between the two of them normally.

Jungkook is in the most romantic moment of his life, lmao! “I love it here!!!” said a million times. That man was experiencing a real life Hallmark movie in his head.

I also thought they spoke/understood way more Japanese than they apparently do.

“Come on everybody!” I understood that reference.

The way they chose to animate over everything to avoid having to blur a billion people in the station is HILARIOUS!

Jimin is too funny bro.

This train ride is so peaceful, it’s selling me on visiting Sapporo despite being broke and not speaking a lick of Japanese.

Can we also discuss how “My man, my man, my man.” Jungkook is? Yet Jimin is too, and somehow both is more than the other, lol. They are perpetually on some, “Jimin will like this.” “Where’s Jungkook?” *films food, pans to Jimin* *films the outside world, pans to Jungkook* *cuddle even while walking* type stuff. Just lovesick.

Girl!dad Jimin confirmed🥰 He’ll be such a sweet dad too, I think. He’s so patient and kind, which is heavily required to raise another human.

I loooooooooe Jimin’s jacket dude.

The way Jimin immediately pivoted to making JK laugh when he tried to downplay himself. Like I said, “My man, my man, my man.” Don’t talk bad about his man, even if you are his man.

My most delusional Jikook theory you’ll ever hear from me: “Are You Sure?” actually became the title because they were asking it if each other, because they in looooooooooove.

Also, to answer my own question from my previous list… yes, the bubble is back.

Role play Jikook strikes again!

Jungkook is it slick! He played with that sip of whiskey the entire time, but the minute Jimin left he downed it.

Them forgetting to pay would’ve been me. And JK initially sending Jimin back to do it would have also been me. You got it, extrovert! Take the embarrassment for the both of us!

They’re so cute! This snow fight makes me want to be somewhere cold for the holiday☹️

The food always looks so damn good! Lord I’m jealous.

I need someone to compile all the times JM and JK go out to eat together, and let me know if Jimin is the one with his back always to the door? It’s a thing in America at least, that the “protector” tends to sit where they can see the door, and I don’t know if that’s a thing in SK as well, but it’s cute, because it matches their dynamic either way.

“Your fingers were all over it.” SIR!? You’ve had his sweaty ear in your mouth… he’s had his mouth on your neck… you’ve also had his fingers in your mouth before and vice verse… AND y’all constantly eat and drink off each other… in fact… yesterday he bit the very sausage you were in the middle of eating and then you continued eating it… before that you gladly allowed him to put his TOES next to your face while you were BRUSHING YOUR TEETH. Stop playing with me, Jeon Jungkook!

Jimin legit being ready to beat Tae’s ass over a dumpling is too crazy, lol. And folks be acting like he some docile helpless baby. Meanwhile, JK is a mediator. They definitely made for each other.

End of the episode. It was fun. Felt like the start of a holiday special. And I didn’t mention it up top, because I decided to “live blog” thoughts like ten minutes in or whatever, but Jungkook softly and sweetly saying he wanted to come back to Japan because it reminded him of their first trip together… SOBBING! He’s such a sentimental guy, with an equally as sentimental guy on his arm.

They truly do vibe so well, and I understand with each passing episode why them enlisting together was a non-choice choice. They click. Like they said themselves, they’re one person split into two bodies, and it’s clear as day they thrive off of being around one another.

Not to get too sappy either, but it’s insane they feel that way about their bond and dynamic, on top of all the things that already just so happened to bring them together. Not just born in the same country, but same city. Auditioned for the same music group. Actually made it into the same group… they were destined to meet, and even they feel that way. All that’s missing is them being the same age, and they’d be the same person. That’s an insane thing to say, but really tells you how deeply they value their connection.

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.6 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: More of a funny chapter, some fluff, Taehyung being the biggest menace on the planet, Some touching (Not sexy touching sorry lol, its worth it), hella tension, dirty thoughts hehehehe, more confused feelings, stress, yoongi mentioned, seokjin continuing to make vics life hard, Jungkook is bad at feelings, drinking, swearing, smoking, y/n continuing to be the biggest avoider of the century, they are getting better just trust me, healthy communicating??? Ji-eun continuing to be my fav ❥word-count: 11.6k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! a/n: This is like 85% edited right now so sorry if there are mistakes but I wanted to get this chapter out as soon as possible! So enjoy and if you see a mistake no you didn't and Happy Holidays! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Five years ago

“Come on! Let me take you out. You don’t even have to think about the breakup anymore,” Taehyung called out, trailing after Jungkook as he moved from his bedroom to the kitchen, then back again.

Namjoon had texted Taehyung earlier, saying Jungkook had been sulking around the apartment for days. The breakup was mutual—or so Jungkook claimed—but it was still a gut punch. He and his girlfriend had been together since the start of college, and the shift from something so constant to nothing at all wasn’t easy to navigate. Jungkook hadn’t gone into much detail, just muttering something about them not wanting the same things anymore.

 His silence, though, was worrying his friends.

Jungkook barely acknowledged Taehyung, focused on shoving notes and books into his backpack. “I can’t, Tae. I have to meet my project partner.” he muttered, his voice laced with mild frustration.

Taehyung leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “The one who already doesn’t like you? Sounds like a good enough excuse to put it off.”

“I can’t,” Jungkook said, sharper this time. “She already doesn’t like me, so being late will just make it worse. I’m barely tolerated as it is. We’ve been working on this for weeks, and it’s been nothing but cold shoulders and annoyed muttering.” He slung his backpack over his shoulder, heading for the front door.

Taehyung wasn’t giving up so easily. “So...is this the same partner you were complaining about before?”

“Yes.” Jungkook groaned, not breaking stride.

“Well, maybe I should come along. I’m great with people. Could smooth things over—”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off, opening the door. “Anything connected to me seems to make it worse.”

Taehyung kept pace, still grinning. “But you’re already late. What’s five more minutes? I can be a neutral third party. Mediate, make her laugh, maybe even—”

“No.” Jungkook protested again, but Taehyung followed him. Then kept following him all the way to the library.

Once inside, Jungkook scanned the study area. He spotted you almost immediately at a small table in the corner, papers spread around you like a protective barrier. You were frowning, your hand moving quickly across a page as you scribbled something down, a furrow of frustration etched between your brows.

“Alright, time for you to leave.” Jungkook hissed, spinning around and shoving at Taehyung’s shoulder.

But Taehyung wasn’t going anywhere. He caught sight of you, and his playful expression shifted to one of delight. His mouth fell open, and then a slow, mischievous smile tugged at his lips. “Well, hello, gorgeous.” he muttered under his breath.

Jungkook frowned. “What?”

“You didn’t mention she was hot.” Taehyung said, his grin only widening and a wiggle to his eyebrows. “I can work with this.”

Jungkook groaned, grabbing at Taehyung’s arm to stop him, but Taehyung sidestepped him easily, practically skipping as he made his way over to you. You were deep into some calculations for your math class and you felt like you were going insane when someone sat across from you, you peered up to see a stranger swiftly pulling out another chair at your table.

“Hi.” He said warmly, tilting his head as if he’d just stumbled into a casual coffee chat.

Raising an eyebrow to him, you blinked, your pencil pausing mid-air. “Hi? I’m sorry, do I know you?” 

Taehyung shook his head, “No, I’m Taehyung.” He held a hand out to you to shake. 

You hesitated for a beat, then placed your hand in his for a quick, polite shake. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m actually waiting for someone.” 

“Ah, don’t worry. I won’t take up too much of your time.” Taehyung said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “I’m here on a mission.”

You let out a heavy sigh, “If it’s to ask for my number or anything like that. I’m not interested.” 

Taehyung waves you off, not that he would mind slipping you his number, “Nothing of the sort… I mean unless you like what you see.” Taehyung leans back posing in his chair, and you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of him. “I’m actually here to get some information.” 

“Okay?” You cross your arms over your chest, an amused grin on your face. Jungkook from a small distance amazed you haven’t bitten Taehyung's head off. 

Taehyung nodded gravely, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’ve come on behalf of my dear, troubled friend, Jungkook.”

Your polite smile faded instantly, replaced by a tight line of irritation. Casting a quick glance past Taehyung. Sure enough, Jungkook was standing a short distance away, half-hidden behind a bookshelf. His expression torn between embarrassment and dread. “I have to apologize Taehyung–”

“You can call me Tae.” He grins with a wink,  and you roll your eyes.

“Okay Tae. I don’t know you well enough to get into all those details.” 

“How about we have dinner and discuss it then?” Taehyung scoots his chair closer to yours leaning his arms on the table. Just at that moment a hand comes down on Taehyung's shoulder, he glances up to see an annoyed Jungkook towering above him.

“That’s enough.” Jungkook wants to avoid your annoyance at him increasing any further by Taehyung's antics. 

“You’re late,” you said pointedly, your tone icy as you picked your pencil back up and focused on your notes. Refusing to look at Jungkook.

“Can you see why?” Jungkook gestured to Taehyung and took another seat at the table. Taehyung rubbing his chin glancing between the two of you with some amusement. 

“Wow, there really is some hostility here… almost electric.” Taehyung leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as his gaze shifted between you and Jungkook. His grin was as sharp as a knife, cutting through the tension with deliberate ease. “For the sake of Jungkook’s sanity—and mine—I have to know. Did he ghost you? Forget a birthday? Sleep with you and never call you again?”

Your eyes widened, disbelief freezing you for a beat before your voice finally squeaked out, “Excuse me?”

“Tae.” Jungkook kicks his leg under the table and Taehyung winces.

“I was just curious!” Taehyung raises both of his arms up in surrender, “Seriously, what did he do?” He pressed, eyes sparkling with mischief as he ignored Jungkook’s obvious irritation.

You shifted in your seat, feeling caged in under their expectant stares, but your posture stayed composed. You refused to let them see you squirm. “I thought I already said I don’t know you well enough for the details?” You replied coolly, hoping to deflect.

“Well,” Taehyung said, clearing his throat as if settling in for a monologue. “I’m Kim Taehyung. I’m a Capricorn. I enjoy wine and find most other alcohol kind of overrated. Jungkook’s one of my closest friends, like, ever. I love dogs, but I have a massive respect for cats. See? We know each other better already.”

His brazen confidence was so unexpected it caught you off guard, drawing a small laugh from your lips despite yourself. “That’s all fine and good,” You said, shaking your head, “but this is personal, Tae.”

“Can I at least put in a good word for him?” Taehyung raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, gesturing toward Jungkook like he was trying to sell a piece of furniture.

You hesitated, glancing at Jungkook than back to Taehyung. “Alright.” 

Jungkook was surprised you were even entertaining his theatrics. Taehyung’s face lit up in triumph, and he shot Jungkook a smug look before leaning in like he was about to share a juicy secret. “Okay, listen. Whatever he did to earn this… frustration from you, I can guarantee it wasn’t on purpose. Either that, or he’s completely oblivious. Probably the second one, honestly.”

You tried not to let his words affect you, but the sincerity in his voice was hard to ignore. He didn’t seem like he was messing with you.

“Here’s the thing,” Taehyung continued, his tone dropping lower as if the next part was especially important. “Jungkook’s one of the best people I know. Seriously. He’s somewhat dumb sometimes, sure, but he’s also loyal and… well, kind of a big softie. I think whatever’s going on here is probably just a huge misunderstanding.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in his words.

Then, as if he couldn’t resist, Taehyung grinned again and reached over to pinch Jungkook’s cheek. “Plus, he’s a big baby and such a cutie, right?”

Jungkook groaned, swatting Taehyung’s hand away. “Stop.”

“No, seriously,” Taehyung insisted, turning to you with exaggerated curiosity. “He’s cute, right?” 

You froze like a deer in headlights, eyes darting between them. “I mean… he’s alright, I guess.” you said, shrugging in an attempt to play it cool. It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed Jungkook’s looks, they were hard to miss, but you weren't really on the market these days. 

“Okay, but what about me?” Taehyung tilted his head, all innocent. “Am I more than just ‘alright’?”

“Goodbye, Taehyung.” Jungkook stood abruptly, tugging Taehyung up from his seat. “We’re leaving.”

Jungkook got up from his seat trying to pull Taehyung away from his own. Taehyung resists for a moment, snatching your pencil to quickly scribble his number down on a blank piece of paper you had out. 

“Call me.” Taehyung lifts his hand up to hear ear to motion for you to call, as he is getting dragged away by Jungkook. Far out of your sight from your table. You glance down at the number, it was poorly written but you could still make it out. 

You knew you wouldn’t call but Taehyung's genuine honesty and unabashed personality was a breath of fresh air. At least you could really only hope everything he said was real and not him covering for Jungkook. 

After a minute Jungkook returned to the table, annoyance written all over his face. He took his seat again with a heavy sigh. “Sorry… about him.” 

“Oh, it’s okay. I could tell he meant well.” You brush him off and continue to write something in your notebook. “Seems like a good friend.” 

“He is.” Jungkook nods, finally taking the time to pull out his own books and notes. “Just a tad nosy.” 

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow with a small smile, presenting the phone number. “Severely cocky too.” 

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head at the horribly written numbers on the page. “Yeah, you’re welcome to burn that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Present Day

Taehyung had always been nosy, maybe even intrusive at times. He really just liked being in people's business and being in the know. This time though, he just happened upon this information and wasn’t really trying to be involved. He really couldn’t help himself in this case. 

“If you tell me what’s going on with you and Y/N.” Taehyung said, propping his chin in the palm of his hand. His elbow rested on the table as he studied Jungkook with a knowing glint in his eye.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice steady, though a flicker of unease slipped into his tone. He casually raised his drink to his lips, taking a slow sip as if the conversation was of no consequence.

Taehyung grinned wider, his head tilting. “Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb. I saw you.”

Jungkook frowned faintly, still feigning confusion. “Saw me what?” Jungkook didn’t react—not outwardly, at least. Years of navigating intense courtroom scrutiny made him a master of keeping a cool exterior. But beneath the surface, his pulse quickened.

“You and Y/N. Leaving together after emo night.”

Jungkook blinked once, twice. “Okay?”

“Okay?” Taehyung repeated, drawing the word out mockingly. He leaned forward just enough to make Jungkook feel cornered. “Y/N wouldn’t share a fry with you, let alone a ride home. It doesn’t add up. So I started thinking.” He paused, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table, each tap feeling like a provocation. “At first, I let it go. People share cars sometimes, sure. But then Jimin mentioned you’ve been acting... off. Quiet. Weird.”

“It’s called maturity,” Jungkook quipped dryly. “You should try it sometime.”

Taehyung snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Maturity? You? The guy who stress-ate three bags of gummy worms during trial prep and then tried to convince us it was a ‘tactical’ decision?”

“They were sour gummy worms,” Jungkook shot back defensively. “Completely different vibe.”

“Sure but you’re usually unbearable before a trial.” Taehyung raised a brow. “Pacing around, running through every tiny detail like your life depends on it. Hell, last time you made me and Namjoon sit through your entire case just to ‘practice.’ You even roped Melanie into being the jury. Still can’t believe she ruled against me.”

“She has great judgment,” Jungkook quipped, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure. But here’s the thing: this time? No pacing, no rambling, no pestering me to play the opposing counsel. Just radio silence. It’s weird.”

Jungkook shrugged, his shoulders stiff with tension. “Maybe I’ve gotten better at managing my stress.”

Taehyung snorted. “Yeah, right.” He turned in his seat to face Jungkook fully, his expression sharpening. “When Jimin said something, I started piecing it together. Thinking on the last few weeks. I thought maybe it was family related but, you hadn’t mentioned anything recently. So then I thought, who’s the only person who throws you off your game? Y/N.”

Jungkook’s stomach dropped, but he kept his face neutral. Barely.

“I also thought it might have just been the forced proximity. You two always go nuclear when you spend too much time in the same 500 yards. Except I remembered how weird you two were acting at the wedding, and how you guys disappeared for a while during the rehearsal dinner.” Taehyung continued, his voice dropping just enough to feel like a warning shot. “You think I didn’t notice?” He tilted his head, his gaze cutting. “So, one more time—what’s going on with you and Y/N?”

A silence hung between them in quiet confirmation. Jungkook's face was hot and he was flustered, but also… filled with relief? Like a weight was lifted? Jungkook hadn’t told anyone what had been going on with you two but Taehyung figuring it out made it suddenly so easy. It had all gotten him so wound up and freaked out that he hadn’t realized how much he really wanted to talk. Talk it through, you certainly weren’t going to want to discuss it.

Taehyung’s face morphed into a relaxed and understanding grin, clearly reveling in his own detective work. “Hey, listen. If you’re not ready to talk about it… whatever! I think it’s great. Whatever it is, friendship, relationship, sex. You’re both adults. Have fun.” 

Jungkook let out a breathless laugh, adjusting in his seat. “I don’t even know what’s going on. Definitely not a relationship, I’ll tell you that much.” His lips curled into a shy smile, but his voice carried an edge of uncertainty.

Taehyung nodded knowingly, leaning back in his chair. “Well, start by telling me how this all started.”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, organizing his thoughts. “What’s weird is that, thinking about it now, it feels… insane. We fought at the rehearsal dinner. Like, properly fought. Then we went outside to cool off, and I don’t know—something shifted. We started talking about how we’re terrible at communicating. Like, talking has never worked for us.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “So, I said maybe we should try something else. Something physical.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up. “You suggested that?”

“Yeah. Why is that surprising?”

“Because Y/N would never suggest that, and you’re usually too uptight to even think about it.” Taehyung took a long, deliberate sip of his drink, clearly enjoying the moment. “So you guys…?” He trailed off, leaving the question hanging even though it was painfully obvious.

Jungkook sighed and gave a reluctant nod.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung said, leaning forward with wide eyes and a grin. “I knew you two had chemistry.”

Jungkook frowned. “No, you didn’t.”

“Did too! The first time I met Y/N, it was so obvious. Sure, she was silently plotting your demise, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t heat. You can have tension and attraction, you know.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips despite himself. “You’re delusional.”

“So,” Taehyung pressed, clearly not planning to drop the subject anytime soon, “How does Emo Night fit into this?”

Jungkook leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Honestly… it’s kind of a blur. We were fighting, then we weren’t. Then we were laughing, and the next thing I knew, we were going back to my place.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle, giving Jungkook a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. “Wow. Good for you. It was only a matter of time.”

Jungkook blinked at him, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Taehyung shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, come on. You’re both hot. You’re both single. Nothing wrong with playing around and seeing what happens.”

Jungkook hesitated, his expression shifting. “I don’t think it’ll happen again.”

“Why not?” Taehyung asked, his tone light but his gaze probing.

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “I don’t know. Every time it’s happened, I’ve felt this… weird sense of guilt afterward. Like I’m doing something I shouldn’t. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like I’m not even living in my own skin.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m not the type to just hook up, you know that. I don’t have the time or the mindset for it.”

Taehyung tilted his head, studying him thoughtfully. His voice was softer this time, almost careful. “Do you feel guilty because you think you’re not supposed to? Or is it because it actually feels good, but since it’s with Y/N, you’re telling yourself it shouldn’t be happening?”

The question caught Jungkook off guard. He blinked, his brow furrowing as he thought about it. “I… don’t know.”

Taehyung chewed on his lip for a moment, his expression pensive. “If I’m not overstepping,” he said cautiously, “I think you are enjoying yourself. And sure, I know you only like to sleep with people if you’re considering a relationship—”

“That’s the thing,” Jungkook cut in, his tone sharper than he’d intended. “I’m not looking for anything right now. Let alone with Y/N.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Taehyung held up a hand, his voice calm but insistent. “I’m saying maybe… let the chips fall where they may.”

Jungkook frowned, his confusion evident. “What do you mean?”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat, his fingers drumming lightly against the tabletop as he chose his words. “You’ve had so much going on in the last year. Maybe this—whatever it is—is happening at the perfect time. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be forever. But maybe it’s exactly what you need right now.”

Jungkook snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not like you. I can’t just sleep around. Plus, work takes up all my time.”

Taehyung laughed lightly, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Oh, I’m not saying with just anyone or all the time. I’m saying just whenever it comes about naturally… with Y/N.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” Taehyung said, grinning now. “Funny enough, I think Y/N is perfect for this. She’s not going to get attached to you, and you already know you have chemistry. It’s like the universe handed you the ideal situation on a silver platter.”

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, shaking his head again. “It’s too complicated with Y/N. It shouldn’t happen again.”

“Why not?” Taehyung pressed, his teasing grin fading into something more thoughtful. His voice softened, but the curiosity behind it remained sharp. “Have you even talked to her about it? Like, actually talked?”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh, the sound short and humorless, as he rubbed his chin. “Sort of. Not really. We talked about the wedding for about five seconds, and then we fought about… well, the last time.”

Taehyung snorted, propping his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Wow, groundbreaking. Gossip of the century. You and Y/N fighting? Stop the presses, I’m shocked.” His voice was thick with sarcasm, and the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth made Jungkook glare.

“You act like conversations come easy for us,” Jungkook shot back, his tone defensive.

Taehyung tilted his head, his expression shifting to something softer—almost amused. “You know,” he began, his voice thoughtful, “I’ve gotten to know Y/N pretty well over the years. She’s not as stubborn as you make her out to be. If anything, she’s way softer than she lets on.”

Jungkook looked at him sharply, his brow furrowing. “Okay?”

“It means,” Taehyung said patiently, “you should at least try.  Y/N is actually pretty reasonable once you sit down and actually talk to her.”

“Talking to her isn’t as simple as you’re making it sound,” Jungkook muttered, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “You talk to people you don’t even like all the time at work. How is this any different?”

“Where do you think I got all that practice?” Jungkook retorted dryly.

Taehyung let out a bark of laughter, his head tilting back briefly before he fixed Jungkook with a pointed look. “Fine. You’re going to Namjoon’s tomorrow, right?”

“Of course.” Jungkook said, crossing his arms like the question was ridiculous.

“Perfect,” Taehyung said, clapping his hands together. “There’s your opportunity. Just try to have a normal conversation with her. Just… be casual. You can do that, can’t you?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know me?”

Taehyung ignored the jab, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m serious. You don’t have to solve the world’s problems tomorrow. Just talk. And for the love of all that’s holy, keep your clothes on. Since that seems to be difficult for you two now.”

“Alright I’ll try.” Finishing off his drink, Jungkook stood. “I should go now. I need to get some more work done tonight.” Jungkook started to leave when Taehyung called after him.

“Hey!” Taehyung called after him as Jungkook made his way to the door. “Just think about it, alright? You might even realize I’m right. It happens more often than you’d think!”

Jungkook just waved to him as he left. He was going to make his way up to his car but he paused. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Taking one and lighting it. He hadn’t been smoking as often lately, but he felt he deserved one after the success of the week. Jungkook took a long drag letting the smoke fill his lungs before blowing it out through his nose. A small buzz washed through him, cigarettes didn’t really have the same hit these days but couldn't quite kick the habit. 

He knew the smell would stick to him, would linger and cling to these clothes. He started to walk up the street to his car. Just finishing off the cigarette slowly and making sure he was more than safe to drive. Thinking about what Taehyung told him, he hadn’t thought he had been so stressed. Hooking up with you continuously was just a recipe for disaster, it had to be. He was just asking for something to go wrong and you two were always on thin ice as it was. Not that Jungkook would ever bring up any of Taehyungs advice to you… again.

Last time was the last time, a very specific set of circumstances had to come together for the last two times to even work out. 

All though Jungkook had become the furthest thing from your mind this evening. You were entering the hospital at the ungodly hour of 10:30pm because you decided yeah I can totally switch shifts this weekend! I haven’t done a night shift in a while so this will be fine! You are majorly regretting it now. You had slept most of the day but you were still somehow exhausted. 

“Good morning beautiful.” Vic greeted you as you trudged your way to sit next to her at the nurses station. You shot her a glare sitting down in your chair pulling out one of the tablets. 

“I hate the night shift. Why did I agree to this?” You groan, typing your password multiple times and failing. 

“Because you are lovely and wonderful and Maya really needed the switch.” Vic stood up and behind you and rubbed your shoulders. “You can do this, it’s pretty simple at night anyways.” 

“Ugh please don’t jinx me. You’ll say that and suddenly everything’s gonna go wrong.” You lay your head back looking up at her with a small pout. 

“You’ll be just fine, plus Yoongi is here all night with you. He’s fun to torture during the night shift.” Vic patted you before she grabbed her bag and rounded her way to the elevators.

“Have a good night.” You call out to her but then dive your head into your work. Since it was so easy going you knew this would be a good opportunity to finish up paperwork. There was always plenty to catch up on, you could maybe even get a medication inventory count done tonight as long as everything goes smoothly. 

You spend the next little while just working. Yoongi came and joined you after a while and you both just made small conversation here and there. The two of you had actually gotten closer in the time you’ve been up here. He’s actually super nice and much funnier than anyone gives him credit for. The quiet exterior thing was mostly a professional front but when he’s around you and Vic he loosens way up. 

Once one of the other night nurses, Kay, had arrived you stole him away to help you with meds. 

“Okay would you rather broadcast your thoughts to everyone around you at all times or never be able to think in words again?” You ask as you write down some notes about things that need to be ordered. 

Yoongi thought for a moment as he is opening up a box to inspect the contents, “Can I think in pictures?” 

“Hmm I’ll say yes but you can’t imagine pictures of words.” You tap your pen against your mouth. 

“I’ll never think in words again. I don’t need everyone knowing my thoughts.” Yoongi says and you nod. “What about you?” 

“You know what, I agree. I don’t need everyone knowing how often I think about quitting.” You snort under your breath. Yoongi smiles amused. 

“We all know, you don’t need your thoughts broadcasted for that.” Yoongi teased and you push his shoulder. 

“I’m quitting right now.” 

“Right.” 

You sigh looking around. “Well we’ve barley made a dent. I’m going to going do a loop and check in, will you see if Kay needs anything?” You hand him the notepad you had been making notes on. 

“No problem, and we can totally finish this tonight. Plus we have like 10 more hours.” Yoongi points around the room. It’s true you guys just needed to stay focussed. 

“Nah you have better things to worry about tonight. I’ll just force Wendy to help me when she gets in.” You wave your hand back and forth, leaving the closet. 

You make your way up and down the wing. Most patients were asleep and you would slip in just to make sure there was nothing you guys were missing or not being alerted about. You had pretty good systems and alarms to make sure that didn’t happen but you always liked to check just to make sure. Everyone seemed in good shape for the night, you decided to ends your rounds with checking in on Ji-eun. You poked your head into the room to find she was in fact awake. She was looking at something on her Ipad. The light dimmed. 

“What are you—” You step into the room, Ji-eun's attention pulled to you. At that moment your attention is immediately pulled to the couch that came into view. Someone was asleep there with blanket pulled over them and they were facing away. You drop your voice to a whisper. “Oh my god I’m so sorry. I didn’t know someone was here with you.” 

You try to backing out of the room, but Ji-eun waves for you to come back. Her voice also a whisper, “No no no come back in. I’m happy to see you, you’re never here this late.” 

A sigh of exhaustion leaves you, “Yeah one of the girls needed to switch shifts due to an emergency. So here I am.” 

“That’s nice of you. I can’t imagine overnight shifts are at all easy.” She gives you a sympathetic smile, setting her iPad to the side. 

“It’s alright. Dr. Min and Kay are good company.” Your attention is pulled back to the figure on the couch that shifts slightly. Maybe it was Ji-eun’s husband? You hadn’t had a chance to meet any of her family yet. They were never here when you usually worked. “Is that your husband?” 

Ji-eun looks over and then back to you with a shake of her head. “Oh no, this is one of my boys.” 

“Oh! How sweet he’s here with you.” You glance over and then back to her. 

“Yeah he must have arrived just barely before you. He’s had a long week and hadn’t been able to stop by. Then he fell asleep.” 

“Is this his first time coming to see you? Since you got here?” You found your curiosity peaked.

“Oh no no. He was with me the day I checked in and then he’s been here several times since. Always late like this.” She glances over then back to you. “I hope it’s okay he’s here.” 

Technically you really shouldn’t let family stay over night but it wasn’t a rule. More frowned upon due to some incidents in the past. “Usually we try not to allow it, but I’ll let it go for now.” You give her mischievous grin, and she laughs to herself. 

Ji-eun had an operation schedule for two weeks from now for the tumor in her leg to be removed. She was in high spirits about it. Removing that tumor would officially bring her back down to stage 3. The hope was that they could remove the whole thing.

Dr. Kim took a new biopsy earlier in the week and you learned this tumor was completely unrelated to the liver cancer, which was the original belief. Since the tumor had gotten down almost to the bone she would be off her feet for some time. She also will have to stop chemotherapy for a while until she heals from this operation. So mostly good things but concerning in terms of her cancer and how aggressive her case has been.

The current treatment hasn’t shown any signs of improvements to the tumors on her liver. It was still early so it was inconclusive. You could tell from the way Dr. Kim and Yoongi had been speaking about it that they were hoping for more improvement. Ji-eun hadn’t lost her spirit though. She was still so cheerful everyday you saw her and always had a story or smile to give. She’s made the weeks up here easier. In the time you’ve spent up here you have seen a few patients pass. Two just this week. You didn’t know them well but it was still tough. Especially because they were cases that had much better odds than most. Needless to say it weighed on you, so talking to Ji-eun made it easier. 

Vic and Yoongi had also done a good job at showing you how they handle it. In other specialties you don’t spend as much with the patients, little easier to become impersonal. Up here you have people who are here for weeks or months so you learn about them. Which makes it worse if they don’t pull through. 

“Why are you up so late?” You sit on the end of her bed, “You just had treatment on Tuesday, you need rest.”

“Just a touch of nausea it’ll pass.” She pats her stomach.

“Are you finally admitting to feeling it a little?” You say, talking about the chemo. Ji-eun had been doing well on this one and not shown any major symptoms yet. At least, that is what she was telling everyone. 

“A little.” She huffed, “Nothing serious. It’ll pass soon.” 

“I can get you something if you need. You don’t have to just tough it out, even though I know you try too.” You lean on one of your hands, your face falling into slight concern. 

“I'm tougher than you think. No chemo can get me down. Now you go. I’m sure you have plenty of work that needs to be done.” She tried to wave you out of the room, but you roll your eyes. 

“I’ve got a minute.” You glance over to her ever updating pile of crochet projects. “What are you working on right now?” 

Ji-eun glances to her pile. “I know it’s a big cliché, but I’m working on a few things for you and Victoria, and the docs.” She pull over some of her stuff, “It’s just scarves.” 

She pulls out one that looks to already be complete that is green and blue and red stripes. Another that is all red. 

“The stripped one is for Dr. Kim. The red is for Victoria. Felt fitting since she is so fiery, and Dr. Kim is so flamboyant.” She held them out to you, they were very well done. She picked a very oft thread for them as well so they were nice to touch.

“Oh these are lovely.” You fold them and lay them back down on the bed. “Dr. Kim will love his, I assure you.” 

“And this,” She reaches down on the side of the bed, “will be yours eventually.” She pull out a dark blue scarf that had stars being stitched throughout. It was still a work in progress, maybe about half way done? It was truly lovely so far. “I think it looks pretty good!” 

You give her a happy pout looking at it, “I love it. It’s so cute. I can’t wait to wear it.” 

“Well I better hurry up and get it done!” Her voice was a little louder than she intended, and whichever of Ji-eun's sons was on the couch stirred. “Whoops too loud. Can I get your opinion for Yoongi? I want to make him one but I’m not sure.” 

You thought for a moment if you should tell her to give him something outrageously bright just to see him feel forced to wear it. You decided against it though. “Probably something neutral. He’s not the flashy type. Maybe a black or grey.” 

“Awe I was hoping maybe he had a colorful streak hidden under that quiet exterior.” Her face twisted in annoyance, “Neutral it is.” 

You get yourself off the bed. It was time that you got back and continued your work. It was a nice little break but there was a lot left to be done tonight. 

“I must leave you now. If you need anything you know where we are.” You take a step towards the door. 

“I’ll try.” Ji-eun huffs with fake annoyance in her tone like you were a mom scolding her. 

You roll your eyes knowing she’s just going to continue to be tough about it. You turn to the door before something catches your attention before stepping out. It was subtle and you hadn’t noticed it before but you definitely smelt it now. 

Just a faint smell of cigarette. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

After a long and grueling night. Your shift was coming to an end. You and Yoongi, with the help of Wendy another night nurse, you managed to get a good jump on inventory. The rest of the night you mostly just did paperwork and bothered Yoongi when you could. No major issues except you were not really built for a night shift. About an hour ago you took advantage and stowed yourself away to get a tiny bit of rest in an on call room. With your slumber abruptly interrupted. 

“Rise and shine baby girl!” Vic hit her leg on the side of the bunk you were sleeping in. Rattling it and you awake.

With an angry grunt you rolled over to look at her. “You’re so obnoxious.” 

“I’m here to relieve you. Get up.” She holds a hand out to you to help you get to your feet. “How was last night?”

“Not bad.” You yawn and stretch your arms straight into the air. You fill her in on some other details and you both leave the on call room and walk back to the nurses station. Giving her some updates on what you and Kay did in the night. 

You collected some of your stuff from the desk when you overheard some of the other girls you worked with talking. 

“Okay but like you saw him.” Lana, a new hire here, leaning on both of her hands swiveling from side to side in her chair. Dramatically star struck. 

“You were right, hot.” Angel, another girl who usually works opposite shifts of you. So you haven’t gotten to know her much. 

“Ladies,” Vic interrupted arms folded, “I think we have better things we could be doing?” 

“Yeah but Lana’s crush was here. So she’s all distracted now.” Angel rolled her eyes, nudging Lana to come out of her dream state. You laugh under your breath. 

“Who’s her crush?” You breath, balancing your stuff in your arms. Looking between the two of them.

Lana groaned, “I don’t actually know his name. I’m just pretty sure he’s Ji-euns son. You had to have seen him Y/N, you’re on her case.” She looked to you, her pupils practically turning into little hearts.

“I actually haven’t met any of Ji-eun’s family. I’ll see what I can find out.” You yawn thinking back on it. Sad Ji-eun’s been excited to introduce you to her family and you just barely missed him. Maybe next time. 

“Get his name as soon as possible please. So Lana can bug you about it instead of me.” Angel got up from the desk, walking away as quickly as she could. You and Vic watch her go in her annoyance and you both have amused smiles. 

“I’m sure you could just ask. Ji-eun uses any opportunity to talk about her family.” You pat Lana on the shoulder, “Hope he’s everything you hope he is.” 

“Me too.” Lana gets up as well taking a tablet with her in a day dreamy walk. 

“Don’t encourage her. She’s new so she doesn’t need to get her hopes high. ”Vic nudged you. She was mostly teasing. 

“Hey, we need some new entertainment around here other than Yoongi. I’m just sad her crush isn’t on him so we don’t get to tease him about it.” You laugh, just then Seokjin and Yoongi were rounding the corner. 

“Good morning my wonderful staff.” Seokjin beamed between you and Vic. Vic narrowing her eyes at Seokjin already. Oh he’s in for a long day. 

“You didn’t sign your charts last night.” She taps her finger impatiently. Yoongi trying to hide. “Yoongi this goes for you two, and you have no excuse you were here all night.” 

You place a hand on her, “To be fair he really helped us out with the medicine and inventory count.” 

She huffs, “Okay fine you’re off the hook. You sir,” pointing back to Seokjin. “You’re gonna sit and do it before you do anything else today.” 

“What’s with the hostility? To think I bought treats for you today and this is the thanks I get?” Seokjin sniffs and fake wipes his eyes. 

“I’ll be less hostile when you sign your charts.” She barks.

You decide you need to slip out now before the blood bath begins. You made your way home in record time. You were desperate to sleep in your own bed because you were finally going to see Melanie tonight. You were so excited that her and Namjoon were back, and tonight would be all in good fun. Or at least you hoped it would. 

Jungkook's annoying presence would certainly be something to handle… considering. 

You couldn’t even think straight as you crashed on your bed. You didn’t even bother to change, just letting the weight of the night overtake you. It felt like a blink of an eye though as it was suddenly 6 pm. You needed to get up and get ready for sure now. You had roughly about an hour before you needed to be getting out the door. So you shower the night off and dress casually, you had a feeling you may be crashing there tonight so you didn’t need to look amazing. 

You certainly didn’t feel too amazing, exhausted really. 

After too long you were arriving and knocking on the front door. Namjoon and Melanie had a very nice townhome, it wasn’t decorated in a typical fashion. It was always very warm and welcoming and homey. You tended to hang out here a lot because of how good of a job they did at making it so nice. Unfortunately that did involve many night where you, Ash, and Melanie overtake the house and Namjoon is left sleeping in the guest room or downstairs. He really didn’t mind but you always felt a little bad. 

With a swift swing open of the door Melanie was who you came face to face with. “Finally! My knight in shining armor has arrived!” Melanie swooned against the door frame. 

“My darling I’ve return from war!” You step inside and are immediately enveloped into a hug. It was so nice to finally have her back. You didn’t want to bug her with anything while her and Namjoon were away but now it was free game. “I need to hear every detail about your trip.” 

“Oh trust me I’ve got a whole presentation prepared.” She keeps an arm around you as you enter the house. 

The entryway was a long hallway with tall ceilings, stairs lined one wall, with entrance to the living room first and then just up the hall entrance to the kitchen. A small bathroom tucked under the stairs. 

“Oh I can’t wait.” You giggle and rub your hands together, “I need something to eat though I’m starving.” 

“Oh there’s plenty of food so help yourself. We’ve got all night.” She pulled you into the living room where you were greeted with Ash and Namjoon in a heated debate about what looked like a just finished match of Mario kart. Taehyung was sprawled out on the couch, looking like a kicked puppy. Melanie sat down on the opposite love seat leaving you standing, 

You squat down to Taehyung's eye level, “What was it this time? Eleventh or twelve?” 

He fakes sobs, “If there was a thirteenth place they would make it for me.” You snort and ruffle his hair. 

“You’ll get him next time.” You sit down on the love seat with Melanie laying your legs across her lap. 

“You don’t want to sit with me?” Taehyung sat up on the couch with a puppy dog look in his eye. 

“I need some Melanie time tonight. I’ll give you my attention another time.” You say but Taehyung still played sad. 

“Mel! Back me up! He so cheated!” Ash erupted between the three of you, pointing to Namjoon accusingly. 

“I did not!” Namjoon quipped back, “She’s the one who was trying to shove me the entire time!”

“I’m not getting in the middle of you two and your stupid Mario kart rivalry again! I made that mistake once and I almost got my head bitten off for it.” Melanie grumbled in annoyance at the two of them. They both deflated but still were annoyed. 

“You know how competitive they get, why let them play?” You ask, raising an eyebrow to Taehyung and Melanie. 

“I left the room for five seconds and suddenly they were deep into it by then.” Melanie raised her hands in innocence. You believed it, Ash and Namjoon had a years long running tally of Mario kart wins. They always stayed neck and neck and it was very serious for them. You were okay at it, always coming out somewhere in the middle. 

“Well I need a drink if this is how the night is going to continue.” You get back up from your seat. 

“There’s tons of wine please drink it.” Namjoon called after you, you gave a thumbs up behind you in response. Heading down to the kitchen. 

Rounding your way into the in there really was tons of snacks and food at the ready on the island counter. You imagine Melanie had meant to bring it into the living room but got sucked into the game with the others. 

You pick a random bottle, opening it and pouring yourself a glass. It was pretty good for a random pick. You balance your glass, the bottle, and a armful of snacks bringing them with you to the living room to lay them out on the coffee table. 

“Oh thank you.” Melanie beamed, taking a bag of chips from you. 

“I figured they got left behind in the gaming escapades. This wine is also nice.” You take another sip from your glass, setting the bottle down. 

Melanie takes the bottle holding it up to Namjoon, he also looks at it, “Joonie, where did we get this one?” 

“Jungkook got it as a gift.” Namjoon nodded when seeing the bottle. 

Taehyung dramatically held onto the nearest object. You gave him a funny look.

“Sorry Jungkook's name was mentioned in your presence. Thought I should prepare for a disaster.” He teased, you hit him on the shoulder.

“I’m not that dramatic.” You settle down on the couch next to him. “Here I’ll give him a compliment right now. He can pick out a nice wine. Let’s hope it’s not poison.” 

“Wow,” Taehyung deadpanned, clutching his chest. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“Anyways, what’s going on with you these days.” You look at Taehyung. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding.” 

“I tried to catch up with you at emo night but seems you got stolen away.” Taehyung says and it makes you take a slight moment of pause. Taehyung said it that way on purpose. Knowing what he knows, “You know cause you went home early.” 

You nod, playing it cool. “Yeah I had too much. It was good I called it early because it could have gotten messy.” 

“Probably smart, a little too much to drink can make us do some questionable things.” Taehyung says it almost with some suggestion, like trying to point to a certain subject. It didn’t slip by you, it felt too intentional. 

“Yeah, I guess?” You play it off, “Anyways, any new girl I can hear about as of late? Any crazy stories you got for me?” 

Taehyung shakes his head, “I’ve taken a little break lately. Trying to be serious.” 

“Really? You?” You cock an eyebrow. 

“Nah,” He smirks, “What about you? Anyone wrapped around your finger at the moment?” 

You narrow your eyes at him, Taehyung had a way of trying to subtly gets answers. Him asking about your love life never comes without a catch. Last time it was a blind date he wanted to set you up on. “No. I’m not really looking right now.” 

He slowly nods his head, his stare a bit too intense for comfort. “Very interesting.” 

“Okay what are you planning? If you're planning on giving my number out to someone can I at least know who and why?” You groan, leaning your head on the back of the couch looking up to the ceiling. 

“No I wouldn't do that to you… again. I’m just confirming a solution to a problem I’m working on.” 

You wanted to probe further into what Taehyung was talking about, but decided to just leave it. Whatever he had cooking up in his mind could not be good. Better to not indulge him. 

The night buzzed with the hum of wine-fueled laughter, the clink of glasses, and a playlist that had long since fallen victim to the chaos of too many requests. You were tipsy, just enough to feel bold and carefree, your giggles blending seamlessly with the chatter around you.

Ash, Melanie, and you had claimed the big couch as your domain, limbs tangled in a haphazard heap. Your head rested in Ash’s lap, where she was absently braiding and unbraiding sections of your hair, likely creating a disaster you'd deal with tomorrow. Namjoon and Taehyung had been exiled to the love seat and the floor, making them easy targets for your drunken commentary.

This was how these nights always went—wine, games, and an inevitable retreat to Namjoon and Melanie’s room, where the three of you would indulge in a late-night slumber party like teenagers.

Just then a ring from the doorbell sounded through the house. Announcing the arrival of the demon spawn. Namjoon sprung up from his spot and trotted to the door. You could hear a few voices echo in the hall before Namjoon and Jungkook reentered the room with some laughs. 

“Golden boy finally arrived.” Taehyung held his arms up in celebration. The wine in his glass almost flinging everywhere. 

You rolled your eyes so hard you were sure they’d get stuck. Melanie wiggled her way out from under your legs to give Jungkook a hug, which he returned with genuine warmth. You looked away, muttering under your breath, “Great, now we’re all blessed by his presence.”

Melanie beamed, entirely ignoring your sarcasm. “Okay, now that everyone’s here, we can finally show pictures from the trip!” She dashed out of the room and returned moments later with her laptop, bounding around everyone and hooking it up to the TV.

“Oh you actually had a presentation prepared?” You laugh at her and Melanie rolls her eyes. 

“Yes,” Melanie retorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’ll like it. Now, everyone, sit.” 

Melanie urges Namjoon and Jungkook to sit back down. Namjoon took the available spot next to Taehyung, which left the spot your legs currently occupied the only place left. 

The command turned the room into a musical chairs scramble. Namjoon reclaimed his spot by Taehyung, leaving the couch seat you were sprawled across as the only one open.

Jungkook eyed the seat with a smirk and crossed his arms. “Guess you’ll have to move.”

Without budging an inch, you waved dismissively at the floor. “There’s plenty of space down there.” 

Jungkook, tilted his head, tongue in cheek. He should have expected the immediate annoyance he would get from you being here. Taehyung watched from the other couch with bated breath, sipping on his wine. 

“Oh this looks like such a comfortable spot though.” Without warning Jungkook places his butt right on top of your legs. Sighing joyfully, it was not comfortable but the face you were making was worth it. 

Ash immediately burst out laughing, her hands still tangled in your hair. “I mean, he’s not wrong. You’re pretty cozy.”

“Get off.” You groan, tugging your legs out from under him and sitting up straight.

Jungkook stretched out leisurely, claiming the newly vacated spot with a satisfied smirk. "Ah, much better."

You narrowed your eyes at him, resisting the urge to shove him off the couch entirely. Taehyung, still observing from his perch with an amused glint in his eye, raised his glass in toast. "And just like that, our main event is underway."

"You're enjoying this way too much," you snapped at Taehyung, who simply shrugged and sipped his wine.

Melanie clapped her hands, reclaiming everyone's attention. "Alright, children, settle down. You're distracting from my masterpiece here." She gestured to the TV, where the first picture from their trip was already displayed: a stunning view of a mountain range bathed in golden light.

The room collectively oohed and aahed, and Melanie launched into a detailed explanation of the hike they had to endure to get the shot. Namjoon chimed in with a few quips about Melanie nearly slipping on a rock, which earned him a playful swat on the arm.

Ash, kept you grounded in your spot so you didn’t push Jungkook away. He didn’t try to antagonize you again. He stayed settled to his spot and his attention on Melanie. Staying engaged with everyone except you. You got another drink into you during the presentation and so did Ash. both of your giggling every now and then on your side of the couch. Entertaining yourselves thoroughly. 

Jungkook just stayed as far on his side as he could. Didn’t mean something else was happening. Because Taehyung was texting him. 

Tae: So are you going to talk to y/n tonight??????

Tae: I think you should ;)

Tae: Remember just keep it casual!!!

Tae: Could lead to… well you know… again ;)

Tae: I’ll even break the ice

Tae: ;)

Tae: Should be an interesting evening

Jungkook would look every once in a while and not dignify Taehyung with a response. Jungkook could feel Taehyung’s eyes also boring into the side of his head in anticipation. He was looking for that spark, maybe there was something much more going on here. 

After a little while, the wine was really getting to you. As well as your messed up sleep schedule making you fuzzy. Warm. You were watching Melanie talking about some trail her and Namjoon followed and got lost along as your attention was caught to Jungkook moving his hand to run through his hair. Settling it back down into his lap. It caught your attention for a moment and it felt like it moved in slow motion. Then without even realizing you were staring at his hands in his lap. 

He was fidgeting with his fingers. Probably mindlessly playing with them. Your mind began to drift though, because you know those hands now. You know they are much softer than they initially look. They were warm and strong. His fingers are long and slender, pretty even. Pretty in an artistic way, almost. A memory of them running all over your body imprinted on your mind. Being pulled to the surface. 

Almost too quickly you felt like your face was on fire. The memory coming in small flashes. A laugh to a messy drunken make out in a fluorescent bathroom. Your lips finding their way to his skin. Then being in his apartment and stripping down together. Then suddenly being laid back. First his fingers and and then his tongue painting you with pleasure. You could see his hands in your mind so clearly, then suddenly his eyes. Looking back at you, while he took you over the edge. 

You need to stop. You shook your head and adjusted in your seat almost too quickly. You cannot be thinking about this right now. What is wrong with you? It had to be the wine, you always got somewhat horny when you drank wine. You settled back into your spot, playing it cool. Your eyes danced around the room for a moment. Pulling yourself back down to earth. Keep it together, you are better than this. 

Your eyes glanced at Jungkook for one second. Not even trying to look but you caught him right as he was playing with his lip ring with his tongue. Forcing your eyes to look back to Melanie and the screen. 

Pay attention to the presentation. 

Your foggy conscience easily betrayed you though. This time, quiet and patient kisses in an elevator. Then a dark hotel room. An image of Jungkook standing above you saying please. Then him placed behind you, slipping himself inside–

You take in a sharp breath in through the nose. You begin to pick your own nails. Surely if you keep your hands busy you can keep your mind distracted. Yes you were a little tipsy and you were having flashbacks but you can fight this. Remember he’s gross, awful, and has said horrible things to you. He drives you insane. 

You will not let your tipsy mind flow to... Jungkook. 

You decided you needed to get some ice cold water. The pictures wrapped up, Melanie’s enthusiastic commentary dwindling to polite applause as everyone shifted back to casual conversation. You decided it was the perfect moment to escape, slipping away toward the kitchen with quick, deliberate steps. The quiet was immediate and welcome, wrapping around you like a shield.

Getting yourself a glass and getting some water from the sink. Sipping it quickly, letting the coolness slow your mind.

The reprieve didn’t last long.

You heard the floorboards creak and glanced up just in time to see Jungkook stroll into the kitchen. His presence was impossible to ignore. He didn’t look at you at first, but you felt him there, his every move trying to pull at your attention like a gravitational force.

Your grip on the glass tightened reflexively.

“Jungkook.” Your voice was flat, carefully devoid of emotion.

“Y/N.” He mimicked your tone, brushing past you to grab a glass of his own. His voice carried a teasing edge, but there was something else—something softer underneath.

The silence that followed was sharp and deliberate, the air thick with unspoken words. Jungkook could easily toss out some snarky comment to rile you up, it was practically his trademark, but he didn’t. Not this time.

Instead, he lingered, standing just close enough for the faint scent of his cologne to drift your way. Cedarwood, or something like that. It was annoyingly intoxicating.

You busied yourself with your phone, scrolling aimlessly. A quiet laugh escaped you at something you saw, but it felt too loud in the stillness, too revealing.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook finally broke the silence. “How are you?”

You blinked at your phone, unsure if you’d heard him right. Slowly, you glanced his way. “What?”

“How are you?” He rubbed the back of his neck, his movements almost shy.

“Why?”

“I’m making conversation.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what people do, Y/N. They talk.” His tone had a touch of exasperation, but his lips curled into a faint smirk. “Just answer the question. You’re not going to combust if you do.”

You hesitated, the urge to deflect warring with the odd sincerity in his gaze. “I’m good,” you said finally, though it felt like pulling teeth. “Exhausted, but good.”

“How come?”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to read him. Was this a setup? “I worked an overnight shift last night,” you said cautiously. “So my sleep schedule is all over the place.”

“Overnight shift, huh?” Jungkook turned to lean against the counter, crossing his arms as he studied you. “And you still showed up tonight?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “I missed Melanie and Namjoon. We usually crash here after these things.”

“Crash?” He raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at his lips.

“Yeah.” You smiled despite yourself. “Mel, Ash, and I take over Namjoon and Melanie’s room after too much wine.”

Jungkook let out a low laugh, the sound unexpectedly warm. “That explains it. Namjoon was muttering about an invasion yesterday. Makes sense now.”

You laughed lightly, the tension between you softening for a moment. “Yeah, invasion is probably accurate. If you and Taehyung weren’t here, the living room would already be in ruins.”

Jungkook moved then, stepping toward the sink to fill his glass. The motion was smooth, casual, but you couldn’t ignore how close he came, the heat of his body brushing against yours. The scent of his cologne floating your way one more time. You took a small step to the side, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.

He seemed to notice your shift but didn’t comment, his gaze flickering to you for a split second before returning to his glass.

You cleared your throat, your voice quieter than you intended. “How are you?”

Jungkook stilled, glancing at you with something like surprise. For a moment, he didn’t answer, his dark eyes searching your face like he was trying to decide if you meant it.

“I’m alright,” he said finally, his tone subdued. “Busy, though. I’m in the middle of a trial.”

“Right,” you said, nodding. “Lawyer stuff.”

A small, wry smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, lawyer stuff.”

“What kind of trial?” you asked, surprising even yourself.

He hesitated, as if weighing whether to tell you. Finally, he said, “It’s a class-action case. Workers suing their company for unpaid wages. I’m representing them.”

Your eyebrows lifted, genuinely impressed. “Wow. Didn’t expect you to be on the workers’ side.”

Jungkook tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.” You gestured vaguely. “Knee jerk reaction. I typically expect the worst from you. Most people would go for the big paycheck.”

A low chuckle escaped him, warm and deep. He couldn’t blame you for jumping to a conclusion after all these years. “Fair enough. It was the right thing to do though.” Jungkook rubs on his neck another time. You noticed it, he had done it a couple of times tonight. Almost like it was bothering him. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You tighten your eyebrows together, Jungkook’s eyes meeting yours for just a moment before darting away. 

“Oh,” He twists his neck trying to relieve the discomfort. “My neck is just hurting. I think I slept wrong.” 

“You could take something, or there are some stretches I know that can help.” You begin to look around the kitchen seeing if you can find some ibuprofen. Your hurriedness surprised Jungkook. Threw him off balance. 

“I already took something but didn’t seem to help. Still some pain.” His eyes tracked you round the kitchen as you continued your search. 

“Well I’ll show you the stretches then, grab a chair.” You exhale, nodding your head to one of the chairs at the dining table. 

Jung walked over and pulled one of the chairs out and took a seat. You hesitated for a moment before you stood right behind him. Your hands hovered hesitantly above his shoulders. What the hell were you doing? 

“Are you okay if I just do it… t-to show you how?” You say hesitantly. 

Jungkook doesn’t look back to you but finds himself rather… nervous even. Had you gotten him in the perfect position to actually just strangle you out? Were these his final moments? 

“Just don’t kill me… but yeah go for it.” He nodded, not looking back to you. 

“Okay. Just relax.” 

Jungkook feels you place one hand on his left shoulder, making sure his posture stays back and your other hand resting on the top of his head gently pushing it forward. Jungkook could feel a small pull in his neck stretching it out. The pain was on the right side so this was too bad. Your hand on his shoulder was touching some of the skin on his neck and it felt like it was burning into him. It was quiet, just your quiet breathing filling the room. 

“So you lean your head forward and then you roll your head side to side,” you murmured, guiding his head gently to the left Your voice was softer than you’d intended, the quiet of the kitchen making every word feel heavier.

Jungkook’s breathing hitched slightly, though you weren’t sure if it was from the stretch or the weight of your hand on his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and you realized with a jolt that your fingers lingered longer than necessary.

“You should feel a pull right along here.” You hovered for a second, but drew a line along his neck where the muscle was tense. Trying to focus on the task and not the way your voice seemed to tremble.

Your touch made Jungkook want to wiggle away from you. So light but almost electric. His mind drifted away somewhat, almost remembering last week but he kept himself grounded in the present.

“Yeah,” he replied, the pull was slightly painful but felt good. “It’s… helping.” His words were simple, but something about the way he said them made your stomach flip.

You adjusted your hand, sliding it to the other side of his head to tilt it gently to the left. “And this?” You kept your eyes focused on the wall now, You had already spent too much time looking… and thinking about his hands tonight. You didn’t need to think about his neck. 

Jungkook exhaled, a slow, deep sound that felt too intimate in the quiet space. “Better,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“It also helps to roll in circles slowly too. Trying to stretch those muscles as far as you can. You want to feel the pull.” You remove your hand, but keep them on his shoulders as he rolls his head around in slow circles. 

The kitchen, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead light, felt suspended in time. The sounds from the living room—muted laughter, clinking glasses, the occasional burst of louder conversation—faded into the background. It was just you, Jungkook, and the lingering ghost of your touch on his skin.

Your hands had rested on his shoulders longer than they should have. Neither of you had acknowledged it, though Jungkook had noticed. He couldn’t stop noticing. The weight of your touch, light but grounding, had felt entirely different from the energy you normally exuded around him.

Gentle.

It made his pulse quicken, a response he tried desperately to suppress. But his mind betrayed him, conjuring thoughts he had no business entertaining such as your hands moving from his shoulders, sliding down his chest, fingers tracing his jawline—

He swallowed hard, forcing himself back to reality. Because that feeling was there again, that small guilty twist in his stomach. What he had been telling Taehyung about bubbled up. He still couldn’t name it, because guilt didn’t feel right. It wasn’t that but it felt so strange. What was that?

Almost like the universe had heard his struggle, Taehyung appeared in the doorway, a wide grin already plastered on his face. His eyes scanned the scene quickly, locking onto Jungkook still seated and you standing just behind him.

“Oh my god it’s finally happening. Y/N is going to strangle you out!” Taehyung gasped and threw his hands over his mouth dramatically, “Y/N please spare him! He’s a good boy!”

You laugh to yourself, stepping back from Jungkook letting your hands fall away from him. The absence of touch is almost louder than the conflict itself. “I’m not strangling him,” you said, crossing your arms and giving Taehyung a look. “This time. Now roll your shoulders back.” you instructed Jungkook, stepping even farther away as if to reestablish boundaries.

Jungkook complied without a word, rotating his shoulders as you’d shown him. He tilted his head from side to side, testing the stretch. When his gaze flicked back to you, a faint smile tugged at his lips. “You’re good at this,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

“I do it for patients all the time, the hospital beds are notoriously uncomfortable.” You replied, shrugging as if it were nothing. Your arms stayed crossed, a subtle shield against the shift in energy between you. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It doesn’t feel like nothing,” he said, his words soft but lingering. His eyes stayed on you a fraction too long, enough to make your chest tighten and your cheeks warm.

Taehyung, clearly enjoying himself, stepped farther into the kitchen. His smile widened, but he kept his tone light. “What exactly were you doing?”

“I slept weird last night,” Jungkook interjected, standing up from the chair and adjusting it neatly back under the table. “My neck’s been hurting all day. Y/N was just showing me some stretches to help.”

Taehyung hummed, unconvinced. His gaze darted between you and Jungkook like he was piecing together a puzzle. “Right. Stretching. Sure.”

You decide this is your chance to escape out of here. You pick up your glass and exit the kitchen quickly to rejoin the others in the living room. The kitchen was quieter now that you’d left, though the tension you’d unintentionally abandoned seemed to cling to the air like static. Taehyung leaned against the counter, his grin infuriatingly smug as he watched Jungkook refill his glass of water, the younger man pointedly ignoring him.

“If I had shown up even a second later, you two would’ve probably stripped naked,” Taehyung said.

Jungkook groaned, turning his back on him to hide his flushed face. “We were only talking.”

Taehyung nodded sagely, his expression far too knowing. “Oh, sure. Just talking. Nothing else. Completely innocent. Two people practically pressed against each other in a dimly lit kitchen, having a totally platonic chat.”

Jungkook shot him a glare. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Of course I do,” Taehyung replied smoothly. “But it’s part of my charm. So, what was it really? A nice heart-to-heart, or were you two silently fighting like usual?”

Jungkook paused, his hand tightening briefly on his glass. “No… no, actually. It was just a conversation. Awkward, but… maybe the most normal we’ve spoken to each other in years.”

Taehyung’s grin widened as he pushed off the counter, his eyes alight with mischief. “Told you.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m always right and you know it.” 

“No you’re not.”

“She was sweet, though, wasn’t she?” Taehyung continued, his voice quieter now, his teasing edge softening. “Almost shy? Kind, even?”

Jungkook hesitated, his gaze fixed on the countertop. He hated how easily Taehyung saw through him, but there was no use denying it. “...Yeah,” he admitted grudgingly, barely above a whisper.

Taehyung clapped him on the shoulder, his grin shifting into something genuine. “See? Progress. Keep trying.”

Jungkook sighed, rubbing the back of his neck where your touch still lingered faintly. “Yeah. Easier said than done.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter

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[jennifer-jeong]

can we get a headcanon of the lads boys' (raf, Zayne & Xavier) reaction when MC bought her little sister that resembles a lot to her (MC) I'm dying for some fluffs here where the boys interact with a kid 😂🥰

HI ANON SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG JFDKLA;JFDLSA; THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASKK it’s so fluffy and funny heheh I had fun with this one

NOTE that reader’s sister is around 12 years old in this

Fluff + Crack | F!Reader Little Sister?

CONTENT Fluff, crack, shitposting LOL, implied feminine reader

WORD COUNT: 1342

RAFAYEL

Your sister definitely bullies him at first just like you do (LMAO) and he will pout and turn away in annoyance and she’ll do the same but then you’ll look away for 2 seconds and they’ll be best friends.

At first when you invite Rafayel over, your sister is probably a bit scared, hiding behind you holding onto you. He probably comments on how she’s kind of your “mini-me” and your sister hits him with the “I’m not mini!” and he’ll reply “well you look pretty mini to me.” Then she’ll kick him in the shins (not too hard just a warning kick). He’ll gasp and then dramatically cross his arms, turning away while pouting, she’ll do the same. Of course you’re just giggling at the antics not helping because you know they’ll get along quickly.

“Okay okay you two, go play some games while I finish making dinner for everyone,” you mediate before heading off to the kitchen. So the two stand there for a second before side eyeing each other and scrambling to the TV to see who is the champion at Mario Kart because that is extremely important information. Of course you can hear their screaming and laughter from the kitchen: “WHY DID YOU THROW THAT BANANA AT ME” you hear Rafayel scream, “IT’S YOUR FAULT FOR BEING THERE” you hear your sister reply.

Rafayel definitely yells as if he’s actually driving a car so if he crashes he’ll actually act like he crashed and it makes your sister laugh until her cheeks hurt.

Later on you find out Rafayel placed 6th out of 12 and your sister smoked him for 1st place LMAOOO. They tell you some of the funny moments and it’s all filled with laughter and a bit of banter but they’re practically best friends at this point. You even join them for a few games after dinner and it’s hilarious.

From then on, there isn’t a single moment where your sister isn’t braiding his hair/putting it in pigtails, putting clips on his bangs, play fighting with him, or just having fun with him.

ZAYNE

Basically your sister is dead terrified of him when she first sees him but since Zayne is surprisingly good with all patients, kids included, he’s actually very good with your sister as well.

When you bring your sister to your shared apartment with Zayne, her eyes are literally wide open with fear upon seeing him and when you tell her to come inside, she shakes her head. So you tell her “aw are you scared of him?? He’s harmless, look he’ll even do a dance.” So Zayne looks at you, still deadpan, looks back at your sister, and shimmy’s his arms back and forth a bit. That man is STIFF doing this move but at least he tried.

Her fear hasn’t quite gone away at this point but now it’s just confused fear?? But she agrees to come inside. You walk off to go make dinner and tell them to start a puzzle together and you’ll all finish it after dinner, comforting your sister and reassuring her that Zayne is very sweet. She sits down in the living room with him and they dump the pieces out.

Zayne pauses, staring at the puzzle pieces before asking your sister “what do you call a dancing puzzle?” and she is mildly mortified before actually thinking about the question. She responds “I don’t know, what is it called?” and he, fully deadpan, replies “a jiggy-saw.” Something about the way this stoic man said “jiggy” was just absolutely hilarious despite the awful pun and your sister lets out a snort and Zayne gives a short chuckle. He suggests they begin on the puzzle and they start chatting to get to know each other, occasionally stopping to make fun of some of the funny looking puzzle pieces.

When you call them over for dinner, Zayne holds out his hand for a high five and your sister excitedly obliges before “racing” him to the table, to which he of course loses. They then continue their yapping into dinner as your sister opens up more.

At the end of dinner Zayne has to offer your sister a classic doctor’s office candy and her face lights up, accepting it and running off. You all work on the puzzle and chat, your sister occasionally going over to you and Zayne to tie your hair into matching ponytails that make you look like unicorns with her pink scrunchies.

When it came time for your sister to leave however, she definitely clings onto Zayne’s leg telling him to not let them take her away. But Zayne of course knows how to handle this and says “hey, there will always be next time, and if you promise to be good, you can have two candies, one now, and one the next time we hangout, okay? I’ll even hold on to this scrunchie to remember,” and she agrees to the deal. Needless to say, they were besties now.

XAVIER

Your sister is probably very confused and kind of intimidated when she meets him and Xavier has no clue what to do but he’ll do something cool with his sword or light evol and she’ll never stop being amazed.

When you call Xavier to your apartment for dinner and to meet your sister, he did not expect you to have a tiny doppelganger. What YOU expected even less was for him to literally shake her hand and say “nice to meet you.” Like he fully pulled out the businessman handshake to greet her but she followed along and also hit him with the “nice to meet you too.” Then he walks in as if nothing happened while you and your sister just stand there, watching him walk away before looking at each other and giggling.

You tell them you’re going to finish making dinner and for them to watch a short movie or an episode of a show which they wait. Your sister, being your sister, of course suggests that they watch the new episode of Demon Slayer. Xavier is caught up because you suggested it to him and he agrees, saying he finds the fighting really cool. They watch a bit until the first fight scene and Xavier is like “yoooo check this out” and pulls out his wooden sword LMAO.

He does the same slashing move the character in the scene does and he even uses his light evol to make it look like he has the same powers. He looks back and your sister’s jaw is on the actual floor while he just stands there like the standing person emoji, not sure what to do next.

2 seconds later and he’s teaching her how to hold the sword properly and how to do some basic movements. Her eyes are full of sparkles and she finds him so freaking cool !!! He’s literally a demon slayer character!!!

Xavier of course sees another fight scene and copies a few of the movements. However, he’s too busy watching the screen to see what’s in front of him… Your vase of flowers now sits on the floor. Xavier and your sister literally get on the ground praising the heavens for the vase being plastic and not glass before laughing. Quickly they hear a “WHAT DID YOU KNOCK OVER” from the kitchen and they simultaneously yell “NOTHING” while both hitting the standing person emoji pose.

You put them in timeout together as a joke (you left them there for like 10 seconds and then you all laughed).

During dinner they caught you up on the episode and after eating you finished it together. You all talk about how good it was until you joke that you’ve become a demon yourself and they need to slay you !!! So Xavier and your sister tackle you while you all giggle.

From that day on, your sister never stops talking about how cool her bestie Xavier is and how she wants to train her “demon slaying skills” with him again.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[danikamariewrites]

i’m obsessed with rhysriel x reader👀👀 could i request hc’s where we get an insight into rhys and az’s relationship? Are they in love too? Or are they just mated to reader? And if they are in love, then was it a lotta jealousy st first or did they get along/ when did they realize that they were also in love🤭 also do they have fun times without reader?👀 i imagine reader just coming home one time and they’re making out or something on the bed/sofa and they ask if she wanna join but she just wants to watch

The Other Half

Rhysriel x reader

A/n: you really made me think here anon. Writing the lil romance between Rhys and Az was so cute, I was kicking my feet giggling writing this lol.

@amara-moonlight I hope you enjoy this babes 💖

Warnings: jealous/possesive Az & Rhys, throuple, and fluff (as always)

When the bond snapped for all three of you the boys were so happy to be with you

Rhys and Azriel discovered the bond between them shortly after it snapped with you. To say they were shocked was an understatement

I think Azriel had always loved Rhys but had kept it buried because it felt like he wasn’t supposed to, where Rhys had a few male lovers when they were younger so this wasn’t entirely new for him

The new bond between Rhys and Azriel was hard for them to navigate at first

They’ve always had love for each other, they just never realized how deep the love they had for each other was

Azriel would have a hard time with this since he’s so used to keeping his feelings inside. You and Rhys were always there to comfort him though, letting him know it’s ok and to talk through what he’s thinking

With the mating bond the two males felt like they had a lot to work through

After knowing each other for centuries Az and Rhys felt like they needed to reconnect

You helped them a lot to be comfortable as mates

The two males ended up falling in love as they fell more in love with you

Watching them openly love each other melted your heart

Your mateship wasn’t always easy at first. It was a rocky few months after the frenzy

Az and Rhys would get jealous and possessive with you

It was hard to navigate spending one-on-one time together with Az and Rhys

While they wanted to spend time together they spent more time mad at each other , trying to steal you from one another

Mediating between your mates sucked

And you never understood where the animosity came from! They always got along but the bond made their relationship unstable

At one point Rhys and Az didn’t talk for a week because their jealousy was so bad

Az had just come home from a mission on the Continent and just wanted to hold you and sleep

Trudging into Rhys’s office to debrief him, Azriel was met with Rhys holding you tightly to his chest while you lounged on his lap. The sight should’ve made him happy but all Azriel felt was rage

He could’ve easily just asked Rhys if he could spend time with you now that he was home. Rhys did have you alone for days at a time after all. Instead Azriel projected his annoyance down the bond to Rhys

That night they got into their first real fight. Yelling and shoving each other. They didn’t stop until you stomped out of the room screaming, “ILLYRIAN BABIES! GOOD GODS!” Followed by the slamming of your own bedroom door

For almost a week the three of you slept in separate rooms

You didn’t want to hurt their feelings or make it seem like you were picking sides. The whole thing gave you anxiety and made you close off your side of the bond. You were especially stressed when the boys would talk to you one at a time and never in the same room

It wasn’t until you broke down crying, begging them to speak that they realized their emotions were hurting you

“I am begging you, for the sake of our relationship, to fix whatever your issues are! If you don’t I’m not sure I can do this for thousands of years because it is killing me!” Azriel and Rhys felt their hearts break at your words and tears

Azriel and Rhys embraced you, apologizing profusely promising they would work things out

After a weekend at the cottage in the mountains Azriel and Rhys came back calm and so in love you were overjoyed

Rhys showed you parts of the romantic bits of their time away. Making each other food, reading together, their long talks and sleeping in each other’s arms

He also showed you the more…explicit moments (it made you a little jealous but they made up for it when they came home)

The first time you went out leaving them home alone after they were in love was weird for them at first. The cabin was different. You went to run errands alone. One of them always goes with you

It was getting late and Rhys was getting worried. Before Rhys could tap at your mental shields he could smell dinner being made

Rhys followed the scent into the kitchen, finding Azriel standing at the island prepping food. He’s wearing an apron that is definitely yours with his sleeves rolled up. There’s a bottle of wine on the counter from Rhys’s personal collection along with 3 crystal glasses. Rhys smiles at the simplicity of the scene in front of him

He leans against the door frame, “What’s all this?” Rhys says teasingly. Az smirked as his shadows swarm him in a panic that tells Rhys he was too early. “It’s been awhile since we had a nice dinner so I thought I’d cook.”

Rhys makes his way over to Azriel, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, love.” Azriel’s cheeks flush at the term of endearment. Rhys picks up a knife and starts cutting up the potatoes

Coming home from your errands you hear their light conversation and laughter. Dumping your bags by the front door you tiptoe to the kitchen, hoping Az’s shadows are distracted. You find your boys messing around, kissing, and just being happy cooking together warms your heart

You love seeing them love each other never gets old

[kimbap-r0ll]

Thought up another one!

this one is illumi,

illumi realizing he’s in love but there is internal conflict within himself not just due to his family but his own emotions and thought if he can even bring balances / if he was what you want. A lil Angst and comfort? You can change it around and everything if ya want I don’t mind. I just like givin prompts lol. And if you’ve done illumi for a similar request or exact same can you do meruem , shalnark or Franklin if you write any of them.

Ooh, I have no idea if I had a similar request because I wrote so much and forgot to update my masterlist haha! However, I'll just write some for all of the characters because why not. Thank you for the request!

Illumi, Shalnark, Franklin, Meruem — Internal Conflict about love

Illumi

Unless you were arranged to marry him, he will be in a serious conflict with himself. Sure, the Zoldycks need a good heir, but Illumi knows himself that he's not meant for the title of Zoldyck head. Because of this, he probably has a bad thought that he shouldn't have interest in a love interest or *gasp* marriage. However, here he is wondering why his heart beats when you talk to him, why he can't see you getting hurt (unless it's training but :/)

I feel like, in a horrible sense, his first instinct is to try and kill you. If you're gone that means he won't have to go through the hurdles he has every night thinking about you. But he can't bring himself to do it. If it gets to the point he can't bear it, he might go through with it

He won't dare bring it up to his mother or father, but if his grandfather realize something's up he might have to talk to him. Zeno is definitely the more chill guy in the family, which means Illumi might be able to convince you to join the Zoldycks if you weren't invited already. The hardest obstacle would be Kikyo, but that's for later

Overall I feel like you would be able to see the internal conflict more than he would like to admit. He's staring at you for really long (concerningly long) times, he talks to you even harsher than before, etc. If you want to live, either cut ties with him or try to convince him love isn't a bad thing

Shalnark

I feel like he doesn't actually mind love that much, he just gets conflicted if you're a civilian or if you're someone he targeted originally. Think enemies to lovers

He would also try to murder you :/ but he might consult Chrollo first. Shalnark will never tell anyone about his crush, especially Feitan or Phinks. However, Chrollo is a mediator for the team and ultimately the only person in the troupe that probably knows what romance is (but it's only from books haha). This means you might be saved by Chrollo's recommendation to Shalnark that love isn't bad

Shalnark will be frank with you on his occupation as a world-renowned criminal. He doesn't want you to fall in love with someone who isn't him, and he wants to give you one more chance before he wants you to be his. If you leave, that means he'll just go on with his daily life. However, if you decide to stay, he might force you to move to Meteor City for "your safety"

You'll not be able to tell he's conflicted because of how he's just so good at hiding emotions. He's smiling, laughing as he usually does. However, something's off. You can tell he's watching you more intently than before while you're back is turned, almost like he's debating throwing a needle in your head.

Franklin

He's honestly also super chill about love, like it's hard to find him conflicted. However, the only time he would be conflicted would be if he found out you're just a regular civilian who could be subject to unneeded visitors from the Hunter Association or the mafia. He doesn't want to see you get hurt

Won't resort to violence! He'll sit down and talk to himself before talking to Chrollo about the matter. Similar to Shalnark's logic, Chrollo's the counselor and leader of the team. He wants to know if he should tell you about his feelings or if it's better for your well-being to not say anything.

Franklin eventually tells you. He tells you in a secluded and quiet environment just what he really does. He tells you he understands if you disagree with him, if you want to run away and tell the police (though this means he might have to resort to violence), but in the end he wants you to be safe. If you leave, that'll be the end of you two's relationship. If you stay, he'll be grateful and tell you he'll always make sure you're safe.

You could probably tell he liked you and had this internal conflict. He started to blush more and he would be quiet around you more than he did before. If you ask him before his big reveal, he'll originally deny these feelings

Meruem

Assuming you're Komugi, he goes through the entire Chimera Ant Arc and doesn't tell you until you two are literally dying :/

However! If you aren't the gungi genius then how this starts might've been similar. Meruem might've had you explain some human concepts to him or maybe he kept you around because it seemed like you had potential for something the ants would need. Nonetheless, his feelings were pure accident.

This leads to him having a conflict that all the rest of the royal guards can see. Pitou won't really mind the king's sudden interest in you, though Pitou might feel it's a little strange how such a weak person like you stayed alive for more than a few hours next to Meruem. Then there's Youpi, who could care less about who the king likes. This guy thinks as long as you aren't a threat to the king's power, no worries. The issue is Pouf. He'll try to convince Meruem you're worthless and whenever Meruem goes through the "should-I-kill-y/n" Pouf will advocate for your death :/. Meruem finds himself never following through this though, so at some point he just stops asking out loud

You will see the conflict in real time, also hear from him about his emotions. He doesn't actually tell you he loves you since he doesn't really know what "love" means. He'll tell you what he's feeling, and then tell you with no corners cut that sometimes he feels like he should kill you (seriously what is with these ants). Give him some time, he'll learn eventually that he's going through a crush and nothing that will kill him (until Netero happens but -_-)

[your-unfriendlyghost]

I have two things to ask:

1.-Can we be friends?

2.-Do you have any Outsiders headcanons (or any that you haven't submitted yet)?

I mean sure?? Idk who you are since you’re on anon, so not REALLY, but I’m always down to talk!

2. Yeah lol- tons. Too many. Here’s a few (okay like 25 oops) off the top of my head lol, some serious/angsty and some lighthearted/kinda stupid without any real order. (Lotta ‘em are about Steve tbh -there’s so little to him in canon that I have the freedom to hc pretty much whatever I want)

Steve Randle’s nearsighted and has no idea, which is why he’s literally always squinting. (I’ve had that one for like months but only recently mentioned it on here lol.) Steve thinks his vision is completely normal

Dally and Sylvia genuinely cared for each other, but they were both so horrible at having healthy emotions that they just made each other worse. In a bad way, not a fun way.

When Steve gets kicked out, sometimes he hangs with Johnny in the lot. They don’t really talk about anything important like their shared experiences of having lousy parents. Instead they talk about cars, girls, music, school…lighthearted stuff. Sometimes Johnny will find Steve crying, which he never mentions- he’ll just sit down as per usual, which Steve appreciates. Steve almost never finds Johnny crying though. Johnny doesn’t cry much.

Okay tangent- I love how Steve and Johnny are low-key foils. Like Steve always seems tough but then cries when pushed to his limit, while Johnny always seems skittish until he’s under a bunch of pressure- in which case he suddenly is confident. (Not necessarily thriving obviously, but confident yk? Like grinning while saving those kids in the fire.) I know SE Hinton probably didn’t intend that at all, but it’s just such an interesting detail to me. One of these days I’ll put it into words better

Johnny’s jeans-jacket is a hand-me-down from either Steve or Two-Bit. (I can’t decide which lol) (obviously Dally would make sense too, but honestly I think it’d add more depth to flesh out Johnny’s relationships with the other members of the gang)

After the events of the book, Two-Bit starts hanging around the Curtis’s place even more. At first the gang assumes he’s trying to lighten the mood. It’s only after he gets sent to the cooler for a month due to drunk driving that they realize he was actually hanging around so much because he was trying to keep his kid sister from seeing him so drunk…

Two-Bit likes to joke that he keeps failing junior year so that him and his sister can graduate together. Which is a very bad idea since his sister is a year younger than Ponyboy.

Sodapop often feels like he’s only good for looking pretty and not all that useful or interesting otherwise. He likes himself, but when he stops to think about it too much, he starts to wonder if he really has anything going for him at all

My H/C for Steve’s home life is that his Mom is sick w/ like cancer or something. Before she got sick, Steve’s life was pretty alright for an eastsider- he and his dad fought, but they always made up for the most part. They weren’t perfect, but they loved each other. But after she got sick, she wasn’t there to mediate between Steve and his Dad anymore, and the fighting got worse and worse. And then Steve’s dad started drinking more and it was pretty downhill from there. Steve’s Dad still loves him, but sometimes Steve wishes that he didn’t. If he didn’t, then he could hate him. But his dad does love him, so he can’t get himself to.

Steve and Dally taught Johnny to drive when they were all like fourteen-fifteen-ish. Johnny is a very reckless driver. He loves speeding.

Johnny also loves fast roller coasters and stuff.

Dally doesn't ‘cuz he’s low-key scared of heights- he likes riding broncos and rodeos, but put him at the top of a roller coaster and he’s convinced that it’s gonna break and he’s gonna die. He pretends he doesn’t mind. The only people who know he’s scared of them are Johnny, and before she died, Mrs. Curtis.

Steve has a napoleon complex. Johnny, who is shorter than him by a few inches, likes to bully him for it sometimes

Ponyboy and Cherry don’t interact much in the school year after the book, but in the summer after, they start to hang out. Eventually they become pretty close. They fangirl over Paul Newman together

Ponyboy still doesn’t let Cherry read his theme though until years later

Marcia and Two-Bit re-meet a few months after the book. (Two-Bit is really scared that she’s embarrassed to be dating him, and Marcia is really scared that he’s embarrassed to be dating her. Neither of them are embarrassed. They both adore each other.)

Two-Bit likes to watch Marcia barrel racing. One time while he’s there, he runs into Ponyboy watching Cherry barrel race and immediately tells everyone much to Pony’s chagrin

Evie knows a little bit about cars, and she sometimes helps out at the DX during summers. Steve is so whipped for her lol (and Soda too Steve has two hands)

Evie and Sylvia are besties, but Steve and Sylvia hate each other. They act civil in front of Evie, but as soon as her back is turned they’re growling at each other like dogs. (Well Steve is. Sylvia just acts condescending as hell. Sometimes it goes over his head, so Steve knows she’s insulting him but isn’t sure what the insult is/means. Which makes Steve kinda want to kill her.)

Steve and Soda are low-key co-dependent. (Steve more so- Soda has his family at least, while to Steve, Soda and Evie are his whole world pretty much) It’s probably not super healthy, and both of them are vaguely aware of that, but are trying not to think about it too hard rn

Ponyboy’s friend group in high school consists of Curly Shepard, Mark Jennings, Scout Jenkins (from the tv show), and eventually, in her senior year, Cherry Valance. (There’s others too but those are the main ones.)

Pony dates Cathy Carlson for a while too, idk if they’re good for each other or not- I kinda like the idea of them being a sweet couple tbh, but no one else on here seems to care about them so I haven’t really explored the idea much lol

In a Dally lives au, Mark Jennings and Dally end up spending a bit of time together through Pony, and at some point they realize that they’re half-brothers lol. Mark is a deeply obnoxious little brother to have, and he drives Dally nuts on purpose. Weirdly I think Dally’s a relatively good influence on him, as much as someone like Dally can be. And Dally does care for Mark, though not as much as he cares for Johnny- Mark is, in his head, not exactly his responsibility.

Well I have (so many) more, but I think that’s enough for now lol. Point is, even though I haven’t drawn in a minute, I love these characters and their romanticized version of 1960s Tulsa so much and I think about them way too often lol

(dw once i get more into the swing of school I’ll be doin more art!)

[lu-dao-writes]

A Hard Pill to Swallow

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: Feng Xin and Mu Qing have always been at each other’s throats, and you’ve dealt with it, but now you can’t.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Spoilers for vol 2, gn!reader, reader is a martial god who served XL, mentioned blood and injury and death, arguing (MQ & FX), ambiguous relationships and ending.

𝘼/𝙉 The ending is open ended, but I like to think it’s Jun Wu that visits you, hehe, cause that man is sus. But hope you enjoy. I’ve been unable to do much lol, but I managed to do this while sick. Also!! If anyone finds and gets the reference I used, I fucking love you fr🤣💕. ⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹

You were the first to arrive at Xiè Lián’s recently erected palace, mind still reeling from the meeting that occurred an hour ago.

Xiè Lián had admitted to a huge crime, claiming he was the one that slaughtered Láng Qiānqiū’s family during the Gilded Banquet.

Xiè Lián, who was nothing but righteous and good, killed the monarchy of Yǒng'ān because he “couldn’t stand to see them on the throne”.

Yeah, you don’t believe that. Not one bit.

Xiè Lián greets you at the door looking a little disheveled, rubbing sleep from his eyes with his non-injured arm. You wince at the blood and at your foolishness for forgetting to bring something to alleviate it.

“Oh, hello,” Xiè Lián offers bashfully.

“Ā-Lián,” you sigh, reaching out to grasp his sleeve, and he grips yours before allowing you inside. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything, I-I just needed to see you.”

Xiè Lián waves off your apology with a smile, sitting down. “Don’t worry it doesn’t even hurt. Jūn Wú did enough.”

“But—.”

The doors open and light footsteps come towards you and Xiè Lián, Mù Qíng soon appearing. His dark eyes meet yours before cutting to Xiè Lián, a scoff leaving his lips. “What? Expecting Fēng Xìn? As if.”

“Mù Qíng,” you start warily.

“What are you doing here?” Xiè Lián chimes in softly.

“The emperor detained you in your little palace. He said His Highness Tài Huá couldn’t come, but I’m not him,” Mù Qíng replies flippantly, digging into his sleeve. He fishes out a small porcelain bottle and tosses it to Xiè Lián. “It’s pitiful watching you sling that bloody arm of yours. Use it or don’t, but no one else is going to help you.”

Mù Qíng has a little smirk on his face, reminding you of a pit viper. It makes you frown disapprovingly, but Xiè Lián doesn’t acknowledge his attitude, and instead he opens the bottle and watches as the medicine does it’s work.

“So did you really slaughter the royal family? How’d you do it?”

“Mù Qíng!?” you exclaim, appalled by his inappropriate excitement and questioning.

“What are you doing here?” Fēng Xìn’s naturally boisterous voice startles them all, but Mù Qíng’s shock turns into something more ugly, disdain washing over his morbid excitement.

“I’m a guest here like you and anyone else is. Last I checked this isn’t your palace.”

Fēng Xìn glowers at him before briefly making eye contact with you before approaching Xiè Lián, his face softening. “Your Highness, what you said at the Palace of Divine Might-.”

“Yes,” Xiè Lián cuts in softly, finality in his voice and expression. “I killed them.”

Fēng Xìn pales along with you, and Mù Qíng looks briefly startled before going for Fēng Xìn again.

“What’s that expression for? Don’t make me laugh.”

You sigh and rub at your temples. “You guys-.”

“It’s not for or about you! Get lost!”

Mù Qíng looks excited again. “That is rich coming from you! As if you’re so loyal; how long did you stay around for again?”

Fēng Xìn grits his teeth, his fists tightening at his sides as a fire is lit ablaze in his eyes.

Xiè Lián fiddles with his his sleeves anxiously, a slight look of anguish on his face. “Please you two, let’s not talk about this right now..”

You on the other hand, typically the calm one and their mediator, are not feeling the aster. Your pulse is thrumming and frustration begins to bubble in your belly. “Okay, stop this right now,” you demand.

But of course yours and Xiè Lián’s pleading goes unheard.

Mù Qíng takes a step closer, finger poking at Fēng Xìn’s chest. “Some say you left because you couldn’t stand to see your former master fall from grace. Tch, such a pretty excuse, but we all know the real reason. You just couldn’t stand to spend the rest of your days cleaning after a broken man!”

“You shut your fucking mouth!” Fēng Xìn practically roars, swinging his fist at Mù Qíng, hitting the delicate looking man square in the cheek, causing him to stumble back into the cabinet, holding his cheek as he glares daggers through his curtain of dark tresses.

You and Xiè Lián gape, the latter standing up, sending his chair backwards.

“Fēng Xìn, Mù Qíng, stop!”

“You think everyone is as vile as you, but I don’t take joy in watching him suffer!” Fēng Xìn snaps, throwing another punch, but Mù Qíng dodges and smashes his own fist into Fēng Xìn’s face.

“Enough!” you exclaimed, only to be ignored and the two to ruthlessly attack one another, breaking a few pieces of furniture.

You escort Xiè Lián out safely before trying to break the other two up from their brawl, but it ends up with you getting shoved aside aggressively by Mù Qíng.

Just as your ass hits the floor, the main doors to Xiānlè Palace opens and a swarm of deathly spirit butterflies come inside, fluttering past Xiè Lián and heading straight for you, Mù Qíng, and Fēng Xìn. You’re yanked behind Mù Qíng as he and Fēng Xìn use a shield to protect themselves, and you from the swarm.

But during this you’re frozen, appalled that you were just shoved by someone you’ve been close to since before you ascended. You watch as Xiè Lián doesn’t put up a fight with Huā Chéng, who steals him away.

You say nothing as chaos goes down in the communication array, only eventually piping up in your private communication array with Xiè Lián. “Ā-Lián…?”

“Ā-(Y/N)?”

“Are you really okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. I promise.”

You believe him this time, especially as he looks so comfortable with Huā Chéng beside him. You bravely look at the Ghost King. “Keep him safe, please.”

Huā Chéng acknowledges you with an assured little smirk and a nod before he and Xiè Lián both disappear.

Although Huā Chéng is feared, you’ve always trusted Xiè Lián for the most part.

Fēng Xìn and Mù Qíng are still arguing with one another, their voices infuriating you.

“Why are you lying and saying he escaped!? We watched Huā Chéng kidnap him!”

“Is it really kidnapping if he didn’t put up a struggle?” Mù Qíng snaps dismissively. “Get off my ass!”

“You bast-!”

“Enough!” you shout. “Stop it! Just stop it! I’ve had enough!”

The two looked at you with bewilderment, and in return you gave them a vicious stare, eyes stinging slightly as your fists trembled at your sides. “Both of you are so fucking selfish, you know that? First you fight in front of His Highness and bring up your issues you either have with yourselves or each other, wrecking his palace in your brawl, and you disrespect his feelings, as well as mine, when we both asked you to stop! You’re both so wrapped up in yourselves and each other that I’m sick of it!”

“We-!”

“I-!”

“Shut up! I’m done! Done hearing both of you! Get over yourselves! If you want to actually look for him, then do it! Don’t ask me to meditate your petty arguments anymore!”

It’s quiet for a moment before you start hearing other voices.

“I’ve never heard General Qiáng Yǒngmíng get so angry before…”

“Someone finally told those two to shut up..”

“Poor General Qiáng Yǒngmíng. Dealing with those two for this long and finally snapping.”

You feel mild embarrassment as you realize you broadcasted your rant in the communication array, but maybe some humiliation is what these two need, but you doubt it’ll do much. With a huff, you make your exit and ignore Fēng Xìn’s pleas, heading to your palace to hide away.

“Ā-(Y/n), thank you,” you hear Xiè Lián murmur, sounding very faint now.

“Anything for you, Ā-Lián,” you reply, falling into your bed, just as your palace doors open.

[iheartyvesss]

post-outbreak joel miller hcs

joel miller x younger!reader

this was requested by @marianita195

warnings? fluff for the first hcs! for nsfw: creampie, pussy slapping, squirting, dirty talk, dom!joel, reader’s mentioned to have hair long enough to pull, and pussy eating. i think that’s all lol 😭

pre-outbreak hcs here!

sfw

boyfriend!joel who isn’t “entirely sure how to do this relationship thang anymore.” joel had been with someone before, you knew this, but you didn’t mind. joel had told you of tess, how he was with her for a while but it wasn’t how he felt with you. he was stubborn to come about his feelings, yes, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t work with. you were patient. that’s what ellie thinks makes you two work so well. he’s stubborn, and as he is stubborn you’re just as patient. you work with him. allow him to come to you in your own time.

boyfriend!joel who is losing his mind the first time you get hurt out on patrol. “you weren’t supposed to be there.” he’d murmured into your hair, sighing heavily when you’d only laughed in response. joel knows you can handle yourself and it’s a thing that he admires about you, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying about you and your health. joel sat by your bedside in jackson’s infirmary until you were just about cleared. he spent his time gripping your hand in his whenever he wasn’t sleeping or going to check on ellie.

boyfriend!joel who can’t help but love the way you treat his ellie. he hears the two of you stay up and talk into all hours of the morning. about what? he doesn’t really know besides the fact that you refuse to share what the conversations are about. “why don’t you ask our girl yourself?” you’d told him, smiling so sweetly he couldn’t bring himself to scowl at you for being a brat. you spend most of your time with ellie if not with him or maria. you take her to the library with you, as well as the gardening section you sometimes assist with. if ellie’s on patrol, you’re on patrol, and it warms his heart in a way he can’t quite pinpoint.

boyfriend!joel who loves you because you are his polar opposite and his mediator between him and his daughter. ellie is too rash while joel is too calculated, leaving you to be just right. you’re often the one to make final decisions in the household over the dumbest of things. your favorite memory is the first time ellie officially began to hang out with dina and jesse. joel was worried out of his mind that jesse would try something with ellie, and how desperately you wanted to tell him there was nothing to worry about.

boyfriend!joel who doesn’t know how to completely express his love for you and ultimately fumbles a bit in the early stages of your relationship. you were supposed to go on your second date with joel at his house, he’d said he was going to make dinner and ellie would remain in her little room in the back. you’d spent all day thinking of it, even losing track of books and stressing yourself out over where’d you last put them. maria found it adorable, if anything. she’d told you to go ahead and leave early if you were that excited. you had a few nice items of clothing from the many runs you and some of the others had done, and this little red number was just perfect. you’d practically skipped to joel’s house only for him to not answer when you knocked. you remember ellie coming through and opening the door, eyes widening before cursing joel out loud and turning to pull you into the house. “um, he hasn’t come back from the job he was workin’ yet so maybe we should wait?” you’re positive ellie could feel the embarrassment flowing off of you in waves but you agreed with the younger girl anyway.

boyfriend!joel who’d came in an hour later, flustered and visibly stressed. he found you and ellie curled on his couch watching freaky friday, and his chest had tightened because you looked so beautiful. “(name)- goddammit.” he murmured, running a hand down his face. “ellie,” he paused to look at her, using his chin to gesture for her to leave. “go. please.” he added the please quietly, stress clear on his face. it was probably the only reason she left without a word. “listen, (name), i’m sorr-” but you’d already stood with a soft smile. “no, it’s fine. i’ll go and we can try again another time, okay?” he’d believe you if you hadn’t swallowed thickly, pushing some hair from your face. joel could feel the guilt creeping up his chest and god did it make him sick. “no, darlin’ jus’ give me a minute and i can make us somethin’ to eat. i’m sorry. i like you, sugar i just…it’s been a day ‘m sorry.” you smile genuinely at that and find your feet moving their way towards him. “you like me, miller?” your eyes are gentle when he looks down at you, and joel realizes you make him feel safe. “we can make another day out for this, ‘m not going anywhere ‘cause of one mishap. i was embarrassed, yes, but you were caught up with patrol and such there’s nothing to do about that. we’re fine, joel. i promise.” you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, to the other, then to his lips. “we can try again, hm?”

nsfw headcanons ↓

boyfriend!joel who fucks you rough and nasty. his hips are always so rough against yours as his beard tickles the side of you neck while he kisses down it. his fingers dig into your hips and the most you can do is whimper out his name. your eyes roll to the back of your head and youre grappling at his back desperately for any type of leverage. anything to keep your body grounded from the euphoria taking it over. “thas’ it sweet thing. you’re taking me so well, hm?” you can only nod as a sob rips from your throat, legs tightening around your boyfriend’s hips to pull him deeper within you. joel grips your jaw with his free hand, forcing you to look him in his eyes as he fucks you deeper. he pushes you further into the bed, hips slamming against yours at a stuttering pace. “joel- can’t- can’t- feels weird.” you sob out, closing your eyes only for them to flutter open when you cum. you cum hard, fluids spraying against his lower abdomen and some getting on the sheets. joel’s eyes change a certain way when he witnesses you squirt for the first time, and the twitch of his cock tells you he’s far from done.

boyfriend!joel who has a thing for face fucking. joel loves to get you on your knees or have you lay over the side of the bed. he’ll purr sweetly at you, “you gonna take it, pretty girl?” and you eat it up everytime. you’re looking up at him with big eyes, pressing kisses to his thighs and mumbling about how good you can be. he likes to take things slow before he uses his throat by tracing his thumb along your lip before tapping his cock against your lips. “go ahead sweet thing. take what you want.” and you’re already spitting on his cock, stroking him a few times before taking him in your mouth. you move up and down his cock, getting used to the size despite how many times you’ve taken him down your throat. joel knows when you’ve gotten settled because you take him all the way down your throat and hold it, blinking up at him like the most innocent thing in the world. joel prefers to grab your hair, pulling back before fucking into your throat slow and deep. he holds you there despite your sputtering and choking, only pulling out when he feels it’s enough. when joel begins to fuck your throat you can never help but guide your hands down to your cunt. you’re moaning around his dick while tears fall from your eyes, pitiful and shaking hands desperately rubbing at your clit. your hips jut into your hands to no avail, because only joel can make you cum the way you want to. his grip always tightens unbearably when he’s about to cum, and his hips stop deep in your pretty little throat to cum down it. “thas’ my sweet girl. takin’ this dick like it was made for ya.”

boyfriend!joel who loves nothing more than to eat you out. he loves the feeling of your warmth against his mouth, the way your pussy is so responsive to his actions. he loves to run his tongue through your folds before suckling on your clit. he rubs your clit slow and steady, watching your reactions to his ministrations. you cover your eyes with your forearm in an attempt to hide the tears already trying to form in your pretty eyes. joel chuckles at your actions before pulling back and pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “remember you gotta be quiet, pretty.” you nod quickly, whimpering softly because you need him to move. when joel starts he never really knows how to stop. he goes in, fingers stretching you deliciously while his lips work on your clit. he latches on and sucks, pulling the most wanton of moans from your lips. your hips jut against his face with a soft sob and you’re desperately trying to hang on to your already building orgasm. joel doesn’t care though. he only hooks his fingers in your cunt and thrusts, pulling back to spit on your pussy as if you weren’t wet enough. he flattens his tongue against your pussy, peeking up at you with what could only be a smug look in his eyes. “you gonna cum on my face, sweets?” you nod, shaking your head harder when you began to thrust up against his tongue. “gonna-” joel shakes his head. “don’t say it, do it.” and you’re creaming on his face as a cry rips through your throat.

boyfriend!joel who likes to fuck you in one of the check-in stations while the two of you are out on patrol. he rubs his hands down your sides, pinning you against the table of he little shack. you’re looking up at him with a cheeky smile that makes him raise a brow at your attitude. “what? you gonna fuck me in a lil shack ‘cause you can’t hold it? ‘nd you say i’m the slut.” joel doesn’t take attitude and you’re fully aware. trust. so you’re not surprised when his previous loving strokes down your side go rigid. he scoffs airily, “turn around.” you bite down on your lip but comply anyway, undoing your belt to allow him to pull your pants down easier. joel laughs from behind you, murmuring something along the lines of “fuckin’ slut.” and he tugs your pants and panties down in one tug. he runs his middle finger through your folds, tuting softly when he feels the slick build on his finger. “fuckin’ slut was already thinkin’ about getting fucked over this table, huh?” you moan softly, nodding to answer his question. you wiggle your ass out to him, looking over your shoulder with a pout. “please, joel? need it s’bad.” he laughs again this time, though it’s deeper and full of some sort of intent. he doesn’t say anything following his laugh, prompting you to turn around to ask again. “shut it.” joel snaps, thrusting into you in one quick, delicious thrust. your question dies on your lips as you lean forward and moan loud and deep, your pussy clenching tightly around your boyfriend. your eyes water from the sudden intrusion and your toes attempt to curl in your shoes. “mhm, bet you shut the fuck up now.” he hisses in your ear, gripping the back of your head to pull you back up with him. joel’s thrusts are hard and unforgiving, a pace he sets only for when you’ve been a brat or simply asked for it. you sob out his name, begging for him to slow down and that your pussy can’t take it. “can’t take it? didn’t you jus’ try to beg for it? you beg for it then you fuckin’ take it. take what you get sweet girl. ain’t that right?” words are lost to your little brain and you can only muster up a nod to his questions and statements. the hand that isn’t holding you up rests on your clit, giving it a sharp slap before he’s rubbing it like you aren’t already twitching against him. “oh my- fuck!” joel’s thrust only further the deep knot forming in your tummy, making you squirm and twitch in his grip. he chuckles when he feels you clench, too fucking tight, and you’re screaming and sobbing as you cum on his dick. “atta fuckin’ girl.” he lets you go, bending you over to ride out his own orgasm. your fingernails dig into the wooden desk, leaving scratch marks you would have a hard time explaining to the next couple to come out here for inspection. “shit, this pussy gotta be made for me. my pretty slut with a pretty pussy, hm?” you nod against the desk, praying a splinter doesn’t find it’s way into your face. “good.” you’re crying out, cumming again as joel’s balls slap against your pussy one final time. he cums deep inside of you, holding your hips down to ensure his seed stays deep inside of your pretty cunt. he pulls out, watching the way his cum oozes out of your pussy. “a sight i ain’ ever getting tired of.” he hums, shoving his fingers back into you.

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other tags: @whichwitchwanda