#I get why some people like and don’t like

[pucksandpower]

Rumour Has It

Franco Colapinto x Princess of Norway!Reader

Summary: you’ve never heard of Franco before and Franco has certainly never heard of you … but when gossip magazines decide to set you two up, Franco realizes that he wouldn’t mind making the rumors a reality

“Have you seen this?” Noora says, bursting into your study with a tablet clutched to her chest, her eyes wide and frantic.

You look up, half-expecting the sky to have fallen or for Oslo to be under siege. “Seen what?”

Noora slams the tablet down on your desk, and your face is met with a tabloid headline in bold, obnoxious letters: Norway’s Princess Caught in Secret Romance with Argentinian Racing Prodigy Franco Colapinto!

You blink at the screen, then back at Noora, and then at the screen again, as if maybe the headline might rearrange itself into something more sensible. “Sorry, who?”

“Franco Colapinto!” She says, exasperated. “The Argentine driver — the rookie! In Formula 1!”

You tilt your head. “I don’t know who that is.”

Noora gives you a look that’s somewhere between sympathy and horror. “Okay, well, apparently you’re dating him. And half of Norway seems to think so too, thanks to this article.”

“Dating? Noora, I’ve never even heard of him, let alone met him! And this … this is nonsense!” You shove the tablet back at her, feeling your cheeks flush. “How did this even happen?”

Noora sighs, sliding the tablet away. “It’s the internet. They don’t need facts to build a story — they just need a blurry photo and a wild imagination.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling sharply. “And why didn’t anyone tell me sooner? It’s not like we don’t have a whole team for this.”

“Well, to be fair, it only surfaced last night,” she says, crossing her arms. “But now it’s all over social media, and your name is attached to his. People are actually talking about you two as if you’re the new royal couple.”

Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. You’ve spent years cultivating a careful, respectable image — a modern princess who’s still traditional enough to respect the expectations placed on her. And now, you’re supposedly dating a race car driver?

“What exactly are they saying?” You ask, your voice quieter, laced with dread.

Noora hesitates, but you give her a pointed look until she relents. “They’re saying you met him at some secret event in Monaco and that you’ve been hiding your relationship to avoid the media frenzy. Apparently, he’s been visiting Norway on his off-days just to see you.” She snorts. “It’s absurd, really. But people are eating it up.”

You stare at her, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “This cannot be happening.”

“Oh, but it is. And the comments …” She trails off, biting her lip.

“Out with it, Noora.”

She sighs. “Some are saying it’s refreshing that you’re dating someone so … I don’t know, normal. But others …” She winces. “Others think it’s irresponsible. That you’re … well, neglecting your duty for some glamorous fling.”

You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “Neglecting my duty,” you repeat, more to yourself than to her. “Because I’m apparently sneaking off with some Formula 1 driver I’ve never even met.”

“I know,” she says, reaching out and giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “But it’ll pass. A few days, maybe a week, and they’ll have moved on to the next scandal.”

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to imagine it blowing over. “And what if it doesn’t?”

“Then we get PR involved. Make a statement, deny everything.” She pauses, eyeing you with a wary smile. “Or, you know, we could just arrange a very public appearance with you and someone else. Nothing quashes rumors like a little royal romance with a suitable partner.”

Your eyes snap open. “Noora.”

She grins, unphased by your glare. “What? It’s an option.”

“I’m not going to parade around with someone just to make the tabloids happy,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Well, that leaves us with the boring option: addressing it head-on, squashing the rumor, and hoping it dies quickly.”

“That will just make it worse,” you sigh resignedly. “The press will think any denial means we have something to hide.”

Noora nods, still eyeing you cautiously. “You could always lean into it a little — make it sound mysterious.”

“Mysterious?” You echo. “No, Noora. I want it gone. I don’t even know this man!”

“All right, all right,” she concedes, hands raised in surrender. “But you know, you could at least look him up.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“Because people are going to be asking questions. You’re the Princess of Norway. If they think you’re dating him, it would help to know who he is.”

You open your mouth to argue, but she’s already pulling out her phone. “Just … humor me, okay? It’ll take two seconds.”

She taps her screen, and suddenly a series of photos pops up — images of a young man with dark hair and a serious expression, usually in some variation of a racing suit, often holding a helmet. He’s smiling in one photo, a faint smirk in another, but the confident gleam in his eyes is unmistakable.

“He’s twenty-one,” Noora says, scrolling through some text. “Started karting young, worked his way up. Got his big break with Formula 1 this year.”

You try not to look interested, but it’s hard to ignore the pictures flashing by. He has a kind of easy charisma, that much is obvious.

“And look,” she adds, holding up a picture of him on the track, eyes focused, mouth set in a determined line. “He’s pretty talented, apparently.”

You shake your head, forcing yourself to look away. “None of this matters. Because I don’t know him, and I’m certainly not dating him.”

Noora smirks. “Doesn’t matter. The media thinks you are, and as far as they’re concerned, that makes it practically true.”

You groan, sinking back in your chair. “So what do I do?”

“For now? Sit tight, let PR work their magic. But you might want to brush up on your Formula 1 knowledge, just in case anyone asks.” She grins, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Wouldn’t want you to sound unprepared.”

You roll your eyes, reaching for the tablet and skimming the article’s ridiculous details. “He brought me roses on the first date?” You mutter, incredulous. “We had a secret dinner at a villa on the Côte d’Azur? Do they just make this up?”

“Pretty much. And it’s only going to get worse if people keep sharing it.”

You rub your temples, trying to banish the lingering image of Franco’s cocky smile from your mind. “Fantastic. Just what I needed — a fake romance with a twenty-one-year-old race car driver.”

Noora pats your shoulder sympathetically. “Could be worse.”

“How, exactly?”

“It could be real.”

***

Franco is hunched over his phone, scrolling mindlessly through his notifications as he waits for his PR briefing to start. The Williams headquarters is bustling this morning, and he barely notices when the door opens until Abbie, his PR officer, strides in, her expression uncharacteristically serious.

“Franco, we need to talk,” she says, folding her arms.

He glances up, one eyebrow raised. “Am I in trouble already? That’s got to be a record.”

Abbie sighs. “No, you’re not in trouble. But you’re in … let’s call it a situation.” She pulls up a chair across from him, lowering her voice as if sharing state secrets. “Have you seen the news?”

“Can’t say I have,” he replies, half-interested. “What, did Carlos suddenly decide to retire and I get to keep my seat for next season?”

Abbie doesn’t laugh, which is a bit worrying. Instead, she hands him her phone, showing a screen filled with a tabloid headline. Princess Y/N of Norway in Secret Romance with F1’s Newest Rising Star, Franco Colapinto!

His brows furrow as he reads, slowly, taking in the headline, the photos, the fabricated “romantic details.”

“Wait … I’m dating a princess?” He says, breaking into a grin. “And nobody thought to tell me?”

Abbie sighs. “Apparently. They’ve got edited photos, fake details — everything.”

He leans back, intrigued. “Princess Y/N,” he muses, tapping his chin with a thoughtful smirk. “Of Norway?”

“Yes, of Norway.” She leans in closer, her expression serious. “This has gone viral, Franco. Everyone’s talking about it.”

He can’t resist; he grabs his own phone and taps out “Princess Y/N of Norway.” The first few links are about her background, her position in the line of succession. “So, she’s next in line to be queen or something?”

“Second in line,” Abbie corrects. “After her father. She’s a pretty big deal over there.”

Franco’s eyes sparkle with interest. “Second in line. And she’s what … like, forty?”

“Not even close,” Abbie says, exasperated. “She’s around your age, I think. She’s twenty-something.”

Franco looks at her, skeptical. “Twenty-something? And a princess?” He scrolls through images of palaces, state functions, and some photos of you smiling politely at dignitaries. She’s dressed elegantly, impeccably, not a hair out of place.

Then, finally, he finds one candid shot, and he stops scrolling. You’re laughing in the photo, a little windswept, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, your smile bright and entirely un-royal. He smirks.

“All right, all right,” he mutters to himself, still looking at the photo. “She’s pretty cute.” He taps back to the headline with a glint of amusement in his eye. “But still not a MILF.”

Abbie groans. “You’re impossible.”

He shrugs, still looking delighted. “Come on. You know my type. I like them older. But …” He trails off, grinning wider. “I could certainly do worse.”

“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Abbie says, horrified. “Franco, this is a fake rumor. You’re supposed to be distancing yourself from it.”

“Oh, I know. I know.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “But it’s kind of funny, isn’t it? Me, a royal boyfriend?” He leans back, arms crossed, still smirking. “I’m almost flattered.”

Abbie sighs and taps her own phone, clearly typing something in response to the rest of the Williams PR team. “Look, flattered or not, you need to be careful. She’s a public figure. If you say the wrong thing, it’ll just fuel the fire.”

“Oh, please,” he says, waving a hand. “What are they gonna do? Put me on trial?”

“Maybe not you,” Abbie replies, giving him a warning look, “but she has an image to protect. This isn’t just gossip for her — it’s her whole life.”

He lets out a low whistle, thinking. “Must be hard, huh? Everyone expecting you to act a certain way. Not much room for fun.”

Abbie eyes him, her expression softening a bit. “I’m sure it is. Which is why we need to treat this carefully.”

Franco glances back at the photos, his smile fading a bit as he considers. He may not know you, but he can picture the situation well enough: the relentless tabloids, the public judgment, all the expectations.

“All right, fine,” he says, finally. “What’s the plan?”

She breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll be working with her team to prepare a statement. The usual ‘there’s no truth to these rumors’ line. But until then, keep it low-key.”

He raises a brow. “Low-key? Since when have I ever been low-key?”

“Then try for once.” She gives him a pleading look. “It’ll help her out. Trust me.”

Franco nods, though there’s a spark of amusement still flickering in his eyes. He can’t help it — he’s never been one to turn down a little excitement, and this whole thing is exactly that. He glances at Abbie. “So … if someone were to ask about it …”

She narrows her eyes. “Franco. Don’t even think about it.”

He chuckles. “Relax. I’ll be good.”

But as he heads back to the simulator, he can’t resist a smirk.

***

The meeting room is far more understated than you would’ve expected for something of this scale, tucked away in a discreet corner of a private suite in a London hotel. But it’s neutral ground, and it’s quiet, and no one outside this room will ever have to know about this awkward collision of worlds.

You’re early, of course. You’ve been pacing for the last ten minutes, scrolling through every frantic email your team has sent since this ridiculous rumor broke, trying to make sense of the tabloids’ spiraling narrative.

Franco arrives with a small entourage, though it feels like the entire room shifts the moment he steps in. He looks relaxed, perfectly at ease — too at ease. He catches your eye almost immediately, smirking as if he’s been waiting his whole life for this absurd situation to unfold.

“Princess,” he says, as if the word is a private joke just for the two of you. He holds out his hand, that ever-present glint of mischief in his eyes.

You don’t take it, instead clearing your throat and nodding a polite, “Mr. Colapinto.”

He drops his hand, unfazed. “Mr. Colapinto? Ouch. I thought we were past formalities, what with the whole secret romance thing.”

You stare, unamused, but he only laughs, taking a seat at the conference table across from you. He leans back, stretching his arms over the back of his chair, entirely too comfortable.

Abbie enters behind him, followed by Noora and two more of your advisors, who exchange a brief look with you before giving Franco a wary glance. The room feels divided: your side tense, professional; his side relaxed, as if they’re here for afternoon tea.

Noora clears her throat. “Thank you all for coming. We’re here to discuss … the situation between Her Royal Highness and Mr. Colapinto.”

Franco raises his hand like a schoolboy. “Just Franco’s fine.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I think it’s important that we treat this with the gravity it deserves.”

“Right,” Franco says, his tone playful. “Like a royal summit.”

Ignoring him, you turn to Noora. “What’s our best option? A joint statement? Something definitive?”

Noora nods, producing a folder from her bag. “Yes, we think a mutual statement from both parties would be the most effective way to dispel the rumors. The tone should be clear, respectful, and leave no room for interpretation.”

Franco grins at you. “So, no room for romance?”

You bite back a sigh. “Exactly.”

He leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as if studying you. “Pity. I thought we made a pretty good pair.”

You shift in your seat, folding your hands tightly in front of you. “This isn’t a joke. It’s an issue of public perception, protocol-”

“Protocol,” he repeats, as if tasting the word. “Can’t say I’m big on protocol. Haven’t you heard? I’m dating a princess now. Practically makes me royalty, right? Protocol doesn’t apply to me.”

You shoot him a pointed look. “Protocol applies to everyone.”

“Boring people,” he counters, grinning wider. “Which, by the way, you are not. I don’t buy it.”

You feel your cheeks flush. “I don’t think you understand the stakes here.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly. But, come on …” He gestures to the small group of advisors around the table. “Look at this! Two teams acting like we’re two PR disasters waiting to happen … it’s ridiculous. You would think we were in the middle of an international scandal.”

“We are in the middle of an international scandal,” you say, exasperated. “People think we’re dating. It’s a breach of public trust for both of us-”

He snorts. “You’re talking like I’m some kind of international criminal. Come on, Princess. It’s just a rumor.”

“It’s more than that,” you insist, struggling to keep your voice steady. “This rumor reflects on me, on my family. On Norway.”

He watches you, head tilted, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “And do you care?”

You frown, feeling that flush creep back to your cheeks. “Of course I care.”

“No, I mean, do you care about it — us? I mean, the rumor?”

There’s something disarming in the way he says it, like he’s testing you. You can’t help but hesitate, your well-rehearsed words slipping just out of reach.

“It’s my duty,” you finally say, straightening your shoulders, “to uphold my family’s reputation.”

He doesn’t seem impressed. Instead, he shakes his head, a bemused smile on his lips. “You’re so serious. Makes me think I really did pick the right princess.”

Noora coughs, clearly eager to refocus the meeting. “Let’s discuss the actual statement, shall we?”

You nod, relieved to move on, but Franco holds up a hand, eyes still locked on yours. “I just want to say, for the record … I don’t think I’d mind the rumors, if they were true.”

There’s a moment of silence, thick and uncomfortable. You can feel the curious stares of your team, the surprise on Noora’s face, the quiet snickers from Franco’s side.

“Mr. Colapinto,” you say carefully, “this is neither the time nor place for that kind of … remark.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Who decides that?”

Noora jumps in. “We do. And as such, we have a preliminary draft we’d like to review with both of you. It’s brief and to the point, which is important.”

Abbie leans in, already reading over the statement. “The recent reports of a romantic relationship between Princess Y/N and Franco Colapinto are entirely false and without merit. Both parties are focused on their respective roles and responsibilities and have not been involved in any way that would support these rumors.” She looks up, pleased with herself.

You give an approving nod, glancing at Franco. “Short and factual. Perfect.”

Franco frowns, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a little … cold, don’t you think?”

“That’s the point,” you say flatly. “We’re supposed to be shutting down the rumors, not fueling them.”

He lifts an eyebrow, eyes gleaming. “How about something more like … while I have great respect for Princess Y/N and have enjoyed our time together, I can confirm that we are, unfortunately, just friends?”

You look at him, horrified. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on.” He gives you a devilish grin. “It’s all about the narrative, Princess. People want romance, intrigue. You’re literal royalty — give them a little fairytale.”

You feel your cheeks burn, and it takes everything you have not to snap back at him. “This isn’t some soap opera, Mr. Colapinto.”

“Franco,” he corrects, eyes still dancing with mischief.

Noora clears her throat again. “I think it’s best we stick with the original statement.”

He gives you a mockingly solemn nod. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

You give a small, exasperated sigh, looking back to Noora and Abbie. “If we’re all agreed, can we proceed?”

Abbie glances between you and Franco, as if gauging the tension in the air. “Yes. We’ll finalize the statement this evening and have it released tomorrow morning.”

Franco pushes back his chair, rising to his feet. “Well, I suppose that settles it, then.” He glances down at you, his gaze lingering a bit too long. “Shame, though. This could’ve been fun.”

You fold your arms, giving him a pointed look. “We have very different definitions of fun.”

“Clearly,” he says, his smirk deepening. “But tell me, don’t you ever get tired of all this?” He gestures around at the meeting room, the stacks of paperwork, the solemn faces of your advisors. “The rules, the protocol. Doesn’t it get … dull?”

You purse your lips, resisting the temptation to give him a real answer. “It’s my duty.”

He tilts his head, his expression softening just slightly. “I get duty. But where’s the fun?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. And for a second, just a second, you wonder if he has a point.

Franco’s gaze sharpens as he watches you struggle to respond. And then, to your utter shock, he steps closer, his hand reaching for yours. “Here,” he says, with that sly, teasing smile.

Before you can pull away, he lifts your hand, bringing it to his lips in a slow, deliberate gesture. His eyes hold yours as he brushes his mouth over your knuckles, lingering just long enough to make you feel the heat creeping up your face.

“I promise,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth, “the next time I kiss you, Princess, it’ll be somewhere much more pleasurable.”

You pull your hand back, heart pounding, but he only grins, unbothered, and gives you a playful wink.

“Until next time, Your Highness.”

***

The bar is dimly lit, tucked away on a quiet street where no one knows who you are and, more importantly, no one cares. It’s the perfect place to slip away from the weight of your title, from the headlines, from the rules and the statement that your team is probably drafting up at this very moment. For once, you just want to sit here, nursing a drink, and pretend you’re anyone else.

The whiskey burns as it goes down, but it’s a welcome distraction. You let out a breath, easing back against the bar, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders release. For the first time all day, no one is watching, no one is whispering. You’re just … here.

Until a voice slides into the quiet like a warm breeze. “Didn’t think I’d find royalty in a place like this.”

You don’t even need to look to know it’s him. You don’t turn, but your grip on the glass tightens as Franco slides onto the stool beside you, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, not bothering to mask the exasperation in your voice.

“Me?” He says, all innocence. “Just having a drink. Same as you.” He signals the bartender. “Tequila,” he says, then nods at your glass, smirking. “And whatever she’s having.”

You sigh. “Of all the bars in London, you had to pick this one?”

He grins, shameless. “Maybe I just have good taste.”

You roll your eyes. “Highly doubtful.”

He chuckles, unfazed. “Come on, Princess. I know you’re thrilled to see me.”

“Thrilled isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

He leans in, his voice dropping low enough that it feels like a secret. “What would you use, then?”

You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you consider. “Mildly inconvenienced.”

He laughs at that, a warm, genuine sound that catches you off guard. You try to keep your face impassive, but there’s something disarming about his laughter, something that makes you wonder why it feels like he’s always able to unravel you with so little effort.

“Fine,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar, mirroring your posture. “Then I’ll just sit here, mildly inconveniencing you until you admit you’re enjoying yourself.”

You scoff. “That’s not going to happen.”

His whiskey arrives, and he raises his glass, clinking it lightly against yours. “Care to bet on that?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you always think everything’s a game?”

“Only when it’s fun,” he says, his gaze dropping to your lips. There’s something undeniably bold about the way he watches you, something that sends a little thrill down your spine despite yourself.

You hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”

“I thought that was obvious,” he says, his voice turning softer, more intimate. “I’m trying to get to know you.”

You snort. “Get to know me? I’m pretty sure you just want to use this as an excuse to fuel the rumors.”

“Maybe the rumors are more interesting than you think,” he counters smoothly, sipping his drink. “Or maybe I’m just curious.”

“Curious?” You echo, lifting an eyebrow. “About what?”

“About what a princess does when no one’s watching.” His eyes flash with that familiar glint, and he gives you a lazy, unapologetic smile. “And so far, you don’t disappoint.”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “If you’re trying to charm me, it’s not working.”

“Oh, I don’t need to try,” he says, his voice soft but self-assured. “I just do.”

You shake your head, determined not to let him win this little game. “I don’t think you’re as irresistible as you think you are.”

“Maybe.” He tilts his head, studying you with an infuriating level of focus. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?”

Your retort dies on your lips as his hand moves closer, resting just on the edge of the bar, fingers inching toward yours. It’s subtle, but it sends a pulse of awareness up your arm, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is, the warmth radiating from him, the intensity of his gaze as it lingers on you.

You straighten, clearing your throat. “So what’s your endgame here, Franco?”

“No endgame,” he says easily, but there’s a promise in his tone, a flicker in his eyes that makes it hard to believe. “Just wanted a drink with a pretty princess.”

You almost laugh. Almost. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Is that why you’re smiling?” He asks, leaning closer.

You hadn’t realized you were. You quickly straighten your face, but he’s already noticed, that knowing smirk widening as he takes another sip of his drink.

“Relax, Princess. You’re allowed to have fun, too.”

“Define fun,” you say, though you’re painfully aware that you’re actually enjoying this little back-and-forth. It’s dangerous, exhilarating — two things you never let yourself indulge in.

“Fun?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling. “Fun is you, sitting here, pretending you don’t like me, while secretly hoping I’ll keep talking.”

You roll your eyes. “Delusional.”

“Maybe,” he says, and his hand moves again — this time, resting casually on your thigh under the bar. The touch is light, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch, enough to make you momentarily forget the carefully constructed boundaries you’ve set.

“Franco,” you warn, though your voice is less steady than you’d like.

He raises an eyebrow, his fingers tracing a slow, almost absentminded circle against your leg. “Problem?”

You don’t answer, but he takes your silence as permission, his fingers edging just a little higher, teasingly close, as if he’s daring you to stop him. And you should. You know you should. But for some reason, you don’t.

He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me to stop, Princess. And I will.”

Your mind races, every sensible thought colliding with the thrill that’s building inside you. You swallow, feeling the weight of his gaze, the heat of his touch.

“Why would I tell you to stop,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper, “if I don’t want you to?”

He grins, satisfied. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Before you can respond, he’s closing the distance, his hand slipping higher under your dress, his thumb brushing slow circles that make your heart race. It’s reckless and wild and nothing you’d ever thought you’d do — but in this moment, it feels impossible to resist.

The next few minutes are a blur of whispered words and stolen glances, your resolve slipping with every soft touch, every cocky grin he throws your way. You barely register the decision to leave the bar until you’re outside, standing on the quiet street, the night air cool against your flushed skin.

“Your place or mine?” He asks, his voice a playful drawl.

You hesitate, a thousand reasons to walk away tumbling through your mind. But when you look at him — at that unrelenting confidence, the challenge in his eyes — you feel your control waver. Just this once, you tell yourself. Just this once, you’ll let yourself break the rules.

“Yours,” you say, surprised at the steadiness of your voice.

He doesn’t waste a second, taking your hand and leading you down the street, his grip warm and solid, grounding you even as your heart races. You follow him, pulse pounding with each step, until you’re standing outside his hotel room door, the reality of what you’re doing hitting you in a rush.

But then he’s looking at you again, that mischievous smile softening into something more intimate, and your doubts fade. He opens the door, and you step inside, feeling as though you’re crossing some invisible line.

The room is dim, the city lights casting a faint glow through the windows. He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, almost reverent, and for a moment, you see a different side of him — something softer, deeper.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he murmurs, his voice low.

You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. But instead of answering, you lean up, closing the distance between you, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that’s tentative at first, then deepening as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

And for the first time in as long as you can remember, you don’t think about duty, or protocol, or anything else. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the quiet thrill of finally letting go.

***

francolapinto

Liked by f1wagupdates, royalwatchers, and 714,925 others

francolapinto all the rumours are true

View all 3,816 comments

pintobean everyone called me crazy for believing the articles but look who’s laughing now!

coca-colapinto because as much as i love franco, there’s no way i was about to believe he could’ve pulled a whole ass princess

pintobean this is a lesson not to underestimate his rizz

coca-colapinto please never say that unironically again

f1wagupdates pray for their PR teams, whatever they’re earning is not nearly enough 🙏

gridgossip franco had exactly nine races to turn the paddock upside down and boy did he not disappoint

f1wagupdates who needs an f1 seat in 2025 when you can have a throne?

***

The morning arrives far too soon, sunlight streaming through the hotel curtains and casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. You barely have time to blink yourself awake when a loud, frantic banging rattles the door, shaking you out of the haze of last night.

Franco groans beside you, his arm lazily draped over your waist. “You expecting someone?”

You’re too comfortable, too wrapped up in the warmth of his skin and the lingering bliss to even think straight. “Not … exactly.”

The pounding persists, and then voices — urgent, unmistakable voices — filter through the door. “Franco! Y/N! Are you in there? It’s urgent!”

Your eyes widen, a flash of panic cutting through the sleepiness. Franco doesn’t seem fazed. He barely lifts his head off the pillow, his hand lazily running down your spine as he mutters, “They’ll go away.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” You push yourself up slightly, glancing over the bed, finding discarded clothes and a vague sense of regret somewhere on the floor. The pounding grows louder, and finally, Franco sits up, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably disheveled.

He stretches, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “What do you think? Just a few more minutes or …”

“Open the door!” Comes a familiar, exasperated voice from the hallway. You recognize it immediately — Noora.

Franco’s eyes meet yours, amusement glinting there. “Looks like we don’t have a choice.”

Reluctantly, he pulls himself out of bed, grabbing a pair of pants from the floor and slipping them on with a casual ease that only makes your heartbeat quicken. He tosses you a smirk over his shoulder before heading to the door.

As he opens it, a whirlwind of people floods into the room — Noora, Abbie, and a few more members of both your PR teams, all of them looking like they’re seconds away from losing their minds.

“Oh my god,” Noora gasps, her gaze darting between you and Franco, her face turning several shades of pink. “This … this is-”

“Completely reckless!” Abbie finishes, giving you a look that’s half shock, half scandalized admiration. “What were you two thinking?”

Franco crosses his arms, unfazed. “Good morning to you too.”

One of Williams’ other PR officers steps forward, looking ready to faint. “Franco, do you have any idea what you’ve done? Those photos … your Instagram …”

Franco grins, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What, people are talking?”

“Talking?” Noora squeaks, her voice an octave higher than usual. She glares at you, her eyes wide, almost pleading. “This is a disaster! Do you understand what you’ve done to our schedule, our statement plan? And the … the-” Her gaze flickers to the faint marks on your neck, and her knees buckle. Abbie reaches out quickly, guiding her to a chair.

“Maybe we overreacted,” Abbie mutters, though she doesn’t take her eyes off you. “Or maybe we didn’t react enough.”

You feel a rush of heat flood your face as everyone’s gaze lands on you. Franco catches it and gives you a cheeky wink, clearly enjoying the chaos he’s created.

“Look,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “maybe we got a little carried away, but it’s … it’s not like we did anything wrong.”

“Nothing wrong?” Noora says, her voice faint as she studies the marks on your neck again. “You … you have no idea how this looks, do you?”

Franco, completely unfazed, strolls over to the mirror above the dresser. He takes a long look at his own reflection, tilting his head to admire the scratches and darkening bruises scattered across his skin. “Looks like a good night to me.”

Your PR teams collectively groan, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. Franco catches your eye in the mirror, and the mischievous spark there makes it impossible not to crack a smile.

“Franco, this isn’t a joke!” One of his managers snaps, practically pulling at his hair. “Do you know how many calls we’ve received since you posted those photos?”

Franco shrugs, giving them a lazy grin. “Then turn off your phone. Worked for me.”

Another round of exasperated sighs fills the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for your PR team. Not enough, though, to actually feel bad.

Noora steps forward, hands on her hips, looking at you with an expression that’s somehow both sympathetic and stern. “Your Highness, this is … unprecedented. We need to issue a statement immediately, clarify this situation-”

“Or not,” Franco interrupts, his tone far too nonchalant. He turns away from the mirror, crossing his arms. “Honestly, I think the people like a little mystery, don’t you?”

Noora gives him a look that could wilt flowers. “This isn’t about what the people like, Mr. Colapinto. It’s about protecting reputations.”

“Oh, so we’re doing that now?” Franco glances at you, his smile playful. “Funny, last night I didn’t get the sense that the two of us in this room were all that worried about reputations.”

Your face flushes, and you shoot him a look that’s half reprimand, half reluctant amusement. “You’re not helping.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Who said I was trying to help?”

Abbie lets out a long sigh, rubbing her temples. “Can we at least agree that this … whatever this is, stays here? Quietly?”

Franco raises an eyebrow, looking at you with a smirk. “You hear that, Princess? Quietly. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”

You swallow, trying to ignore the way his gaze makes your stomach flip. “Maybe some things should be quiet,” you say, though your voice sounds unconvincing even to you.

Noora, still looking a bit wobbly, clears her throat. “Please, can we just … make a plan?”

Franco sighs, feigning disappointment. “Fine. Make your plan. But don’t expect me to follow it.”

Before anyone can respond, he gives you one last smirk and strides over to the door, pulling it open. “In fact, I think it’s about time we had the room to ourselves, don’t you think?”

The PR teams exchange panicked glances, but they don’t have much choice as Franco gives them a not-so-subtle wave toward the exit. Noora opens her mouth to protest, but Abbie gently ushers her toward the door, casting one last look at you that’s a mix of concern and reluctant approval.

“We’ll be in touch,” Abbie says, but there’s a hint of resignation in her tone, as if she knows that whatever control they thought they had is slipping fast.

Once the last of them has been herded out, Franco shuts the door with a decisive click. He turns back to you, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and before you can process it, he’s crossing the room, closing the distance between you in seconds.

“You know,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “I think we gave them quite a show.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips. “We? That was mostly you.”

He laughs softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t exactly object.”

You’re about to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance. His hands find your waist, and suddenly you’re being guided backward, the mattress hitting the back of your legs as he eases you down. His gaze is intense, his smirk fading into something more serious, more intent.

“Franco,” you murmur, but the way he’s looking at you steals the rest of your words.

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then to the corner of your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, “We’re not done yet, Princess.”

Your heart races as he shifts, his hands warm against your skin, his weight pressing you back into the bed. And as he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s somehow both playful and possessive, you realize that whatever the consequences, whatever scandal might follow … right now, none of it matters.

Right now, there’s only him, the quiet thrill of his touch, and the feeling of finally — finally — giving in.

***

The night sky over Las Vegas glitters with a million lights, bright enough to drown out the stars, as the drivers’ parade winds down the track. The grandstands are packed, the excitement in the air palpable even before the race has started.

Franco is perched atop the back of a bus, arms folded, his easy smirk in place as he surveys the flashing cameras and cheering fans. Beside him stands Lewis Hamilton, calm and collected as always, with that practiced smile of someone who’s done this a thousand times.

Franco nudges Lewis with his elbow, grinning. “So, you know we’re both basically royalty now, right?”

Lewis chuckles, giving him a sideways look. “Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?”

Franco shrugs, looking as if he’s contemplating something serious for a split second, then tilts his head. “Well, you’ve got the knighthood, Sir Hamilton,” he says, drawing out the words with an exaggerated British accent. “And I’ve got, well …” He grins, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. “The princess.”

Lewis laughs, a rich, full sound. “Ah, I see. So you’re actually out here trying to one-up my knighthood?”

Franco clutches his chest dramatically. “Exactly. I mean, not to make it a competition, but I’m basically a prince now. Which, if we’re being technical, puts me a bit above you in rank.”

Lewis lets out a snort, rolling his eyes. “Shut up, man. I’m a knight, not a court jester.”

Franco raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. I’m sure knighthood’s very nice, but I think there’s something to be said for having a princess.”

Lewis shakes his head, trying not to laugh. “So it’s true, then?”

For the first time, Franco’s smirk softens into something else, something quieter. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, glancing at the screen with an expression that’s unmistakably fond. He’s not looking at Lewis now, or at the cheering fans, or even the flashing cameras around them. His gaze is locked on his phone, where an image fills the screen.

It’s you, cozy on the couch with your Cavalier King Charles Spaniel in your lap, a warm blanket wrapped around you, hair falling casually over your shoulder. You’re looking straight into the camera, a relaxed smile on your face, and there’s an almost surprising intimacy in the photo — the kind that doesn’t come from a staged royal portrait but from a simple, real moment. It’s the type of photo someone only sends to someone they care about.

Franco doesn’t say anything right away. He just stares at the image, his thumb tracing lightly over the screen, as if he’s savoring the private moment before he has to lock his phone away for the race.

He nods, almost to himself. “Yeah. It’s true.”

Lewis studies him slowly, an almost invisible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t think I’d see the day,” he murmurs, a touch of amusement there. “Guess you’re growing up, huh?”

Franco finally looks up, chuckling. “Speak for yourself, man. I’m still a kid at heart.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow. “A kid at heart who’s dating a princess? That’s a combination I didn’t see coming.”

“Neither did I, to be honest.” Franco leans back, stretching his arms out along the edge of the bus, still clutching his phone in one hand. “One minute, I’m just minding my business, and the next … boom.” He snaps his fingers. “The entire world decides we’re dating. Didn’t even know her name before then.”

Lewis chuckles. “And now you’re on your phone looking at pictures she sent you. You’ve come a long way.”

Franco glances down at the picture again, a private smile playing on his lips. “Guess I have.”

The parade continues, the roar of the crowd swelling around them as they pass another section of the grandstand, but it all feels distant. The conversation falls into a comfortable silence, and Franco finds himself thinking back over the past few weeks, the whirlwind of rumors and statements, and then … the quiet moments that somehow followed.

Lewis studies him, eyes narrowing in that perceptive way he has. “So … you and her. Is it, like, official?”

Franco lets out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? This is Her Royal Highness we’re talking about. There’s no ‘official’ until we’ve been courting for at least a year. There’s procedure and … what’s the word she loves to use? Protocol.”

“Protocol.” Lewis grins. “That sounds … exactly like what you hate.”

“Oh, believe me.” Franco laughs, shaking his head. “She’s been trying to teach me, but I don’t think I’ve followed protocol a single time. I mean, she actually tried to tell me what utensils I should use at dinner. Like, why does it matter?”

“Didn’t go well, huh?”

“Let’s just say I’ve decided that those tiny forks are optional.” Franco sighs, pocketing his phone. “But that’s her. She takes it all so seriously. Makes me want to take it seriously too, in some strange way.”

Lewis tilts his head, watching him. “I get that. That’s what happens when someone really means something to you.” He pauses, as if weighing his words. “So, she’s watching tonight?”

Franco nods, a flash of pride evident in his smile. “She sent me this right before we went out for the parade.” He taps his pocket, where his phone is hidden now. “Said she’d be watching. Don’t know how she manages to get away with it, with her schedule planned out months in advance, but she’s … creative.”

Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “The lengths you two go to. Like some kind of fairytale romance.”

The bus they’re on takes another slow turn around the parade route, the lights of Las Vegas casting a surreal glow over the scene. The streets are packed with fans, all of them waving and shouting, and Franco finds himself wondering if you’re watching this right now. He imagines you, curled up on the couch with that fluffy little dog of yours, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Franco smiles. “Yeah, I guess it really is.”

[savanir]

A sister's love

The justice league hurriedly responds to a call for backup at a little in the middle of nowhere place by the name of Amity Park. 

The situation had seemed so simple. 

A Star Sapphire had suddenly shown up on Earth which isn’t immediately cause for concern but she was unidentified, so a lantern was definitely going to have to look into it if only just to make sure that nothing bad was going on. There are two planet side green lanterns, Simon and Jessica. So they responded to handle the potential situation. 

Things rapidly spun out of control when they realized it wasn't just a Star Sapphire. 

"I hate to say this but we're gonna need backup" Simon tells Cyborg, "the Star Sapphire has brought something with her. My first guess was a white martian but..." The other one can do some manner of density shifting, and he can go invisible, but they know ways around that. Whatever this one is doing isn’t that though.

"Why isn't this working!?!" Comes Jessica's slightly panicked voice in the distance, "he keeps just going through my creations! dammit, think think Jess" She tried to contain him with a flamethrower construct but he just ignored it, like he’s seemingly ignoring everything else she’s throwing at him.

"Our constructs have zero effect on the other one, the alien, meta? man I don’t know he’s human shaped" 

"What is the situation other than the two hostiles?"

"Uh we got some government agents who are retreating because of the Star Sapphire wrecking their stuff. And the civilian people here seem to be falling under her influence, so she must be human. She's from here, she needs emotional connection to pull that stuff off."

The people are furious, the violet glow around them clearly indicates that the girl is using her ring to amp them up but if Simon didn’t know any better he’d say this was red lantern stuff.

Well there are more ways to whip people up into a frenzy, by hurting their loved ones for example.

There is a brief moment where it can be heard that Simon and Jessica try to get into a more advantageous position. 

Simon grunts, "dammit, those agents seemed to have weapons that actually worked on the other guy but the Star Sapphire used her violet constructs to shield him and destroy their guns and we've been struggling since" this whole situation stinks, he has a weird feeling about all of it.

"Simon this is really really bad, i can't keep restraining all these civilians, we're running out of energy fast!"

Cyborg tries to get a visual on the situation from his position in the Watchtower while he’s notifying any league affiliated heroes who are nearby and available. 

But all of a sudden he realizes there is just nothing, just a big lap of void where the two lanterns are supposed to be, there is no cctv footage, no cell towers, no internet connection. Just what the hell is going on here.

Then the audio transmission starts to violently crackle.

A new voice laced with static can suddenly be heard, "There you two are"

"Shit"

"Is the justice league coming yet? Are they finally going to do something?" the staticy voice continues.

"Stay back you-"

"Or maybe they still need more of a reason to act" 

The audio cuts out. 

"Jessica! Simon! Come in!" ... "Shit!" 

Cyborg finally gets a clear picture with the satellite cameras and now sees the entirety of Amity Park has been covered with a crystalized violet dome. It’s then that he remembers the story Hal told quite some time ago now about a Star Sapphire who managed to put a whole planet into love stasis.

They are gonna need more help with this one he thinks.

Meanwhile Jazz is still shakily trying to figure out how her new pink powers work, now that all the fighting is over (for now), the GIW forcefully expelled from Amity, and the two Justice league people captured and restrained.

Everything happened so fast, one moment the GIW had knocked out her brother and were forcefully taking him away and while she saw them drive off (she was pretty sure she was screaming) a pink thing just froze her in place, She was pretty sure someone said something about “great love in her heart” and then she was… well she was flying and- and there wasn’t really any time to question things then so she may have kinda gone and ripped into the van that had Danny.

She’s pretty sure she healed him, and then things just completely spiraled out of control from that point on. and now she’s here.

She’s pretty sure this is crazy villain behavior, she’s going to get put on some sort of watchlist and then she’ll never get to be a psychologist but it’s fine.

Her little brother is safe, that’s all that matters. And she will keep it that way.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I was wondering if you could write something where reader is in the hospital for something and maybe another doctor or nurse doesn’t realize she’s remus’s gf and is being rude to her. And doctor!remus overhears and saves the day lol<3

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: reader who menstruates, mention (not really description) of severe period pains, healthcare gaslighting

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 632 words

“Have you tried taking pain medications like ibuprofen?” 

You clench your jaw. “Yes, I have.” 

“And how long has your period lasted?” 

“It started on Tuesday.” 

The nurse looks up from his chart, unimpressed. “So it’s only been a few days.” 

“Yes, but the pain started before that. And this has been happening for—” 

“Are you aware that many women experience period pains before the start of their periods?” 

Your skin feels hot. Frustrated tears threaten to clog your throat, and you fight the urge to bend over to relieve some of the pain in your abdomen. “Yes. I know that.” 

“One a scale from one to ten, how would you rate your pain?” 

“Eight.” Your voice nearly breaks. 

Your nurse pushes out a sigh. “I’m sorry to tell you, but that’s not uncommon either.” He sets down his chart, leveling with you. “Listen, we treat a lot of really sick and hurting people here. We have lots of patients to get to today, so if you think what you’re experiencing could be normal period pain—”

“Excuse me?” The nurse falls silent as Remus pulls aside the curtain, stepping into your little room. You have to shove down the urge to cry just for seeing him. He looks between the two of you, seemingly confused but obviously displeased. “What’s going on?” 

“Hi,” you offer meekly.

Your nurse turns to Remus with a long-suffering look that’s nearly conspiratorial as well. It’s clear he expects to be agreed with. “Doctor Lupin, sorry to waste your time. You’re welcome to check her out, but after an initial interview we’re fairly certain she’s experiencing regular menstrual cramps.” 

Your face flames at his use of we. You hadn’t agreed to any of that. 

“It’s not a waste,” Remus says, clipped. “I asked her to come here, because her menstrual cramps are abnormally severe and prolonged, and I’ve already ordered an ultrasound to find out why. Are you in the habit of deterring our patients from seeking care?” 

Your boyfriend’s tone grows increasingly agitated as he speaks, and you watch with a guilty sort of satisfaction as the blood drains from the nurse’s face. 

When he offers up no answer, Remus’ expression hardens. “I’ve got it from here. Find me later, please.” 

You barely get to see your nurse leave. Remus steps closer to you, eclipsing your view, the anger in your boyfriend’s expression melding into concern.

“Hi, honey.” His hand wraps around your arm. “How is it today?” 

You feel your face crumple under his caring gaze. “A little better,” you manage. 

Remus makes a sympathetic sound, thumb sweeping gently over your skin. “Still nauseous?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Did he ask you to rate your pain?” 

“Mhm.” 

“And what did you say?” 

You shrug. You’re never sure how accurate you are with these scales. “I said an eight. It might be a seven, though, I just” —your voice cracks— “wanted him to believe me.” 

 “Oh, baby.” Remus wraps you up in a hug, cupping your head to his chest. “I’m sorry he treated you that way, sweetheart. It was completely out of order. I’m not going to let it happen to anyone else, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you say tightly. “I’m fine, and it’s not your fault.” 

Remus makes a tsking sound like he doesn’t quite agree. “Why didn’t you tell him you were with me?”

You shrug, a bit bashful. “I didn’t want to, like, name drop you.” 

Remus smiles, shaking his head in astoundment. “You’re absurd.” He gives your cheek a loving hold. His eyes lock on yours, steady and earnest. “We’re going to sort this, alright?”

“Oh, don’t involve me, please. Talk to him after I’m gone.” 

“I mean your cramps,” Remus laughs. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “But yes, after you’re gone.”

[with-my-calamitous-love]

burnt toast, sunday / i wanna teach you how forever feels

katsuki bakugou x reader

the morning after a fight with katsuki. for the yail series ❄️

inspired by all of the girls you loved before

bakugou sat up, groaning a bit as his back ached. he looks around, hit with his surroundings. he slept on the couch, in the midst of the living room torn apart from arguing.

he knew you were probably still pissed at him. worst of all, he couldn't even fully recall why you two had been arguing the night before. he only remembered that it was really, really bad, and you had ended up locking him out of the bedroom. just the thought of not sleeping next to you hurt blonde’s chest.

he lets out a sigh as he got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. when he sits up, he sees you walk in.

he cringes slightly, seeing your puffy red eyes. you had been crying all night, probably.

“…hey.” you say, softly.

he grunts in response, his words unable to reach his throat.

its a sunday, a quiet morning to contrast a loud, abrasive saturday night. the two of you resolve to make coffee silently, only speaking when you need a spoon he’s standing next to or when he needs you to move so he can grab the sugar.

the silence felt incredibly awkward. the two of you just stood there, quietly making your own cups of coffee. the only noise in the room was the sound of the coffeemaker brewing. bakugou’s thoughts were a mess. he couldn’t believe the two of you had gotten in such a big fight, and he wasn't even entirely sure why it happened. but he knew he was probably at fault, he was the one with the explosive personality after all.

he curses at himself quietly when he realizes he grabbed two pieces of bread. he does that normally- one for you, and one for him. but right now, you’re pissed at each other. he’s a little worried that making two pieces of toast will be seen as a violent act of aggression.

he moves to grab plates, too absent minded to notice that the toast is now burning. you take it out for him. thats when he noticed you’re still wearing his shirt, even though you’re mad.

he picks up his phone and scrolls, trying to distract himself. thats when he remembers what the fight was about.

whoever it was that got ahold of katsuki bakugou’s dating history was really obsessed or really, really bored, maybe both. for whatever reason, his fans were now talking about all his previous partners, the good and the bad. and, because you’re dating a celebrity, they just have to question your worthiness to be dating the handsome and strong dynamight.

he feels his anger flare up as he doom-scrolls some more. it pisses him off, thinking about how people would so mindlessly say things. it pisses him off more that its getting to you. don’t you know that he loves you?

he has yet to do anything about it, to address his dating life and who he’s with now. truthfully, katsuki doesn’t feel like he should have to. his pr team already works overtime for his asshole-self, anyway.

he’s so distracted by his own thoughts, he fails to notice the way his elbow knocks over your mug, sending it shattering on the floor. maybe its the silence, but you honestly jump a little when it happens.

both you simply stand there at first, blinking. did he do that on purpose? no, he wouldn’t break his own mugs.

maybe he just wanted your attention.

nonetheless, you wave it off with a soft “its okay” before kneeling down and carefully cleaning up the shards. he’s silent as he gets down in front of you, helping you clean the mess he made.

he wants to tell you its okay, and that he’ll take care of it. he wants to tell you that he’s sorry and that he loves you. but this is the closest he’s physically been to you since the argument, and he wants to relish in it for a moment.

“are you still mad at me?”

he almost flinches when he hears your meek voice. why would he be mad at you?

“..what are you talking about, babe?” he sighs, his voice gruff.

he is mad, but not at you. mostly at himself for not seeing how the recent speculations about him had been bothering you.

“i don’t wanna repeat myself. i just… i don’t know. i know you don’t want me to care about what everyone else is saying, but, i do.” you admit, still on the floor in front of him. at this point, you’ve both forgotten about the coffee and the shards.

he can see how upset you are, and it makes his chest tighten. “yeah, well… i don’t want those shitty extras getting to you. even if what they’re saying is the farthest thing from the damn truth.”

he so desperately wants you to know that he loves you. that when he’s with you, he doesn’t think of all the times he woke up to someone else, feeling alone. he doesn’t think of late night arguments that left him feel empty. when he looks into your eyes, he’s reminded of everything he wants to protect.

but you don’t see that as clearly as he does. “i guess i just… wonder if you agree with them. you never say anything to address those rumours, about your exes. and its not your fault, i get you don’t want to get involved, but, still…”

bakugou’s heart twinges as you bring up those accusations. he hates that you wonder such things, that you wonder if he agrees with those rumours or not. he wants to reassure you that you are the one he loves, the only one he loves. but he knows you wouldn't believe him right now, especially since he's been acting so shitty towards you lately.

“damn it, dumbass, i just want you to know that i love you. not any of those other bitches.”

“i don’t like when you call them that, katsuki.” you correct him. he nods, though both of you should be used to his sailor tongue by now.

“they’re people you’ve loved before… and thats okay. sometimes i just wonder if you love me more. i know its stupid.” you sigh.

he finally gets the courage to hold your hand, his calluses gentle against your skin. “..i feel i shouldn’t have to say it, i guess. in my head, you’re the only damn person in the world who matters.”

“maybe i’m just insecure.” you chuckle, self deprecatingly. you’re both tired of the arguing, now. “you’re #1, you’re gorgeous… and i’m me.”

he looks at you like you’re a complete idiot for that.

he hated hearing you say those things about yourself like it was a bad thing, that you were just you.

“just you? you really think it’s a bad thing to be you, dumbass?”

he pulls you in tighter, wanting you to really hear what he says.

“you’re amazing, you're incredible. there’s no one else I want to be with. I don't want anyone else, just you. you’re way too good for me, [y/n], in more ways i can count.”

“…you really mean that?”

he scoffs, a beautiful smile on his face. “yeah, i mean it. i love you.”

you give him that smile he loves, the one that made him fall so deeply in love with you all those years ago. “thats all you had to say, kats.”

your past and his are parallel lines. he isn’t sure how he got so lucky. how, by some cosmic miracle, the starts aligned so he could intertwine with you. you’re all he needs.

he hugs you deep, burying his face into your neck. he loves how you smell, how smooth your skin is. theres bot much proof, but he sees enough in you. he feels enough when he holds you, his entire world in his arms.

“i’m sorry.” he says, quietly for only you to hear. “you’re everything to me. i’m in love with you.”

your heart swells, ignoring the burnt toast and spilled coffee. you’re wearing his shirt, and he’s keeping his word. thats enough to make you melt, hugging him back, arms thrown around his muscular back. “i’m sorry too. i shouldn’t have doubted you. i love you too.”

he pulls back slightly to kiss you, making sure you’re in front of him and that this is real. for once, he let’s go of all of his fears and his ghosts. you’re his best friend, the love of his life and every beautiful thing he loves. he hears it in the silence, on his way home, and in your voice.

“if anything, i think i’m grateful for everyone you’ve loved before.” you chuckle, face close to his. his blonde eyebrows knit in confusion. “what do you mean, babe?”

“because the people you love make who you are, even if you’ve only loved them for a moment.” you say, squeezing his hand. “all those dead-end streets led you to me.”

he pauses, strange look on his face when he realizes you’re right. all that fake love, the teenage heartbreak and pains he’s been through- it’s made him the man you love. all those breakups, those unsaid goodbyes, they’ve led him hear.

he huffs, and then smiles, pressing his forehead to yours.

“i wouldn’t change a damn thing, then.” he says. “it all led me to you, dumbass.”

you stroke his cheek affectionately, pressing a kiss to his temple. his eyes close when you do that, relaxing into your touch. everyone that he knew brought him hear. and now, he gets to know what forever feels like.

“and in the end, it doesn’t matter who loved you before.” you conclude. “cause i love you more.”

he almost laughs at how cliché it is, resigning to press kisses all over your face. “i love you more, i’m not arguing on that.” he says, holding you in his lap. he’s tough, and explosive, and “too good for all that clingy couple bullshit”. at least, thats what he lets the world believe.

you’re his, and he’s yours. he’s so god damn thankful for everyone you’ve loved before. ‘cause now he gets to love you 10x more.

[runariya]

Beyond Probability JJK (m.)

summary: Matching with an idol? Unlikely. But with a 99% compatibility? Beyond probability. pairing: idol!Jungkook x f!reader genre: idolvers, S2L, fluff, smut rating: 18+, MDNI! warnings: fluff, fluff, a bit of self doubt, fluff, fluff, explicit sexual content, shower sex, unprotected sex, pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 4k

a/n: It’s a rly cute and short oneshot, light and mainly fluff, nothing too deep, no big words etc this time. Just had to get it out of my system since the idea’s been on my mind for months now (unedited bc I fell ill halfway through writing it 🤒)

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

Your biological clock’s ticking—has been for some years now—and even though you’re only now nearing 30, you’re painfully aware that the life you pictured as a kid might never come true.

It’s not like you’re unstable in who you are or what you’re doing. You’re fairly successful at your job, you’ve got your own place, and you’re more social than most people these days. Still, you’re only what most would call average-looking, and even though you’ve got a good career, you’re too soft to keep it up forever. You picture yourself more as a loving wife and mother than a corporate boss bitch climbing the ladder of success.

That’s also why your dating life has been rocky all along. Men see what you put out there, but they don’t like who you really are or what you want from life, which has left you single for most of it.

So, when a new project starts—after the K-pop industry finally acknowledges that idols need partnerships and a life of their own, and fans finally understand that these people are human too, that they deserve to experience love and happiness like everyone else—you decide to take your chances too.

Funnily enough, all the labels have teamed up, hiring not only the best scientists and psychologists from Korea but from around the world to create a program that can find ideal matches for their idols. Sure, science shouldn’t determine who you fall in love with, but… what if it could?

After being pre-selected—just to confirm you’re not some crazed fan—you’ve spent over two weeks going through tests. Recorded interviews, personality assessments, even physical evaluations… now you’re staring at your company’s computer screen, listening to Dr. Song explain the results through the phone. 

“Ninety-nine percent?”

“Yes. The chances of such a high compatibility score are next to impossible. We see it as a perfect match and would like to introduce you to your match.”

“Sure, of course.” Even though your voice is steady, you can feel your nerves flaring up like never before.

“Is tomorrow at 8 p.m. alright for you?”

“Yes, that works for me.”

“Perfect, we’ll see you then.”

Well, joke’s on you, you didn’t expect this outcome. 

Meeting an idol feels surreal, and the closer you get to 8 p.m. the next day, the more you can feel the anxiety and doubts inside you rising. Every last detail in Dr. Song’s calm, clinical rundown replays in your mind, the ninety-nine percent match, the endless rounds of testing, the surreal realisation that, somehow, all those numbers and algorithms miraculously spat out a name next to yours. 

You want to trust that there’s a reason for this, that somehow science isn’t just working with chance, but the tension of actually meeting someone this special is so overwhelming you barely notice yourself entering the lab building until you’re standing outside Dr. Song’s office.

“Right on time,” she chirps, giving you an approving nod. She seems to sense your nerves, and as she leads you down a hallway you’ve never been before, she gives you a reassuring smile. “I know this is all a lot. But he’s likely feeling the same way. The tests told us that he’s, well, quite like you.”

Her words would make you laugh in any other situation, though disbelief and a strange kind of comfort floods through you still. Like you. An idol, standing here in a lab somewhere to meet some random stranger, feeling just as out of place as you. You’re not sure of that but still like to think it must be true. 

You don’t have time to process it fully before you’re led into a quiet room with yellowish walls so plain they almost blur in the corners of your vision, a low, comfortable couch and a couple of chairs standing there and none of the lab equipment that surrounded you in the testing rooms all those weeks ago. 

And then you spot him, sitting on the couch, alone. He stands the second you walk in, hands half in his pockets, a slight, almost unsure smile grazing his lips as he glances down at you. He’s got that casual look about him, the same dark eyes you’ve seen a hundred times on a screen that somehow feel warmer and more human here. 

He looks not quite better than he does on screen, but not worse either. Somehow, he’s realer, if that’s a word—close enough that you can see the little flecks of colour in his irises, the slight tension in his posture, the faintest trace of nerves hiding under his composure.

“Hi.” Jungkook’s voice is lower, softer than you expect from an idol. “Nice to meet you, I’m Jungkook.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m ___.” There’s a pause, and you can tell he’s just as unsure what to do with the space between you two as you are. The click of the door makes you turn around briefly, only to realise Dr. Song has left you both alone. “This is, um, weird, right?”

He nods, a quick, breathy laugh breaking through. “Very. I mean, this isn’t exactly a ‘normal’ kind of meeting, right?”

His words are awkward but disarming, and suddenly, you’re aware of all the tiny, meticulous details of him that somehow make him feel more relatable than his polished, on-screen persona. The way his hand keeps moving to rub against his thigh or abs, his tongue playing with his lips and piercing ever so slightly—everything about him is familiar but also somehow close enough to feel completely new.

“I don’t think I was ready for this,” you admit. You aren’t really talking to him but more like letting your own thoughts slip out in the safest way possible, like saying it makes it feel less absurd.

“Honestly, same.” He laughs, and you think there’s a light flutter in your chest now. “I kept thinking about this whole ninety-nine percent thing. Like… how does that even work? Isn’t it supposed to feel, I don’t know, obvious? Like you know the moment you see someone?”

You nod, understanding exactly what he means, and somehow you move on autopilot, walking towards him and sitting down on that couch with him beside you. It feels like you should both somehow know, like there’s a sign or an instant connection, something that would make all of this feel simple, easy. But it’s just the two of you in a quiet room, barely knowing each other, held together by nothing but a number on a report.

“Yeah, that’s so wild. I didn’t think I’d have a match, this close to a hundred even less. Might be a glitch if our score is this high.”

Jungkook nods with sparkling eyes, seemingly relieved by your honesty and humour. “Yeah, I get that. I kept thinking about it too. Wondering if maybe the tests were wrong, or maybe I was just…thinking too much.” He lets out a sigh, his gaze meeting yours for a long, meaningful second. “But I think maybe this is about finding out, right? Not having it all make sense right away.”

“Hm, makes sense.” You giggle, because what else can you do in the presence of him.

The two of you sit there in a momentary silence, as if testing each other, feeling out the small boundaries that keep you both distant.

“So, what did the report tell you about me?” You ask the question half-jokingly, trying to break the quiet, but also curious. You want to know what he knows, how much of this supposed ninety-nine percent compatibility is actually something that either of you feel. 

He lets out a silent breath, looking down as if slightly embarrassed. “Honestly, not as much as you’d think. They told me you were kind of… soft-spoken but resilient? And that you have a job that’s, uh, stable and…” He trails off, the tips of his ears slightly pink, like he’s embarrassed to keep going.

“And?” You can’t help but push further—not maliciously, just way too curious and playful for your own good. Jungkook’s expression shifts from embarrassed to surprised, and then to a look that’s just as playful.

“And that we’re, apparently, very much sexually compatible.”

Really, you should be the one feeling embarrassed or shy now, but you can’t help the laugh that slips out. You know exactly what he’s hinting at—your report clearly showed the same.

“Well, it might be not wrong. And they told me…” You pause, realising that you barely remember the details in the face of the reality in front of you but alas. “They said you’d be a good match because, I think, there was something about humour?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Humour? Never heard of it.” And it makes you laugh all over again. “I feel like they just told us things we’d want to hear, to make it seem easier and normal.”

His words hit close to home, but they’re strangely comforting in the way he says them. You reckon, he’s just as bewildered by this as you are, maybe even more so. And somehow, in the middle of all the awkwardness, you find yourself genuinely smiling at him, naturally gravitating towards him, finding that there’s a softness and reassurance in his gaze, a gentleness that cuts through your nerves like a knife through melted butter in the sun. 

You start talking more freely after that, exchanging stories that are too mundane to make sense in any real context but feel right here. You tell him about your last trip to the beach, how you got sunburned and spent the whole evening sitting on your balcony, nursing it with iced water and aloe, wishing for a helping hand that you didn’t have. He laughs, nodding along as if he can picture it exactly and tells you about how he tried to make pasta he ate in Italy for the first time a few months back and ended up burning the whole batch, because no one was by his side, so badly his kitchen smelled like smoke for days.

The more you talk, the more you notice the little things about him that aren’t so polished, aren’t so perfect, and make him feel more human and real than anyone you ever met. He has a way of listening, eyes intent on yours, like he’s trying to pick apart every word to understand it better. When he laughs, it’s with his whole face, even body, not the careful, composed look of an idol but a natural, carefree laugh that makes you feel like maybe he’s as relieved as you are to be here, to have someone he doesn’t have to impress. 

At some point, you both lapse into a comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts but somehow still connected. The tension from earlier has faded away, replaced by a soothing aura you know you don’t want to miss for a day in your life.

Eventually, Jungkook glances over at you, his eyes sucking you in without much resistance. “I kept thinking this would feel forced, you know? Like we’d be sitting here, struggling to find anything in common.” He leans back, drapes his arm around the back of where you’re sitting, glancing up at the ceiling as if searching for the right words. “But… it doesn’t feel that way. You feel… I don’t know, right?”

The slight flutter in your chest has now swelled into a full-blown hurricane, and you’re not sure if it’s that ninety-nine percent compatibility causing it. But you don’t let yourself think too much—not when you’ve both been inching closer with each word, not when you take a chance and lean in, resting your head against his side. Especially not when his arm settles directly over your shoulder, pulling you a little closer, his other hand finding yours, fingers intertwining just to see how it feels.

“Yeah, it feels right. I really like this.”

As you absently play with his fingers, breathing in his scent for the first time and deciding it’s like heaven, you let yourself trust science. Because this feels like exactly where you’re meant to be.

While the first meeting with Jungkook went better than you’d ever hoped, you’re painfully aware of your overthinking nature. Overthinking in a way that makes it painfully clear there are countless women out there who, on the surface, would seem a better visual match for him than you.

Overthinking to the point where you wonder why Jungkook would even need matchmaking when he could so easily choose a partner on his own. It’s also why staying focused at work isn’t exactly easy today, knowing that soon his label will be sending a car to pick you up for your next meeting with him.

You understand the precautions they’ve taken and completely agree it’s better to meet in a private, safe space rather than making headlines this early on. That’s why, as the tinted car arrives, you feel a bit more at ease than you have all day.

Soon enough, you’re driving down the path to the label’s underground garage, and while you fix your makeup real quick, the car comes to a stop. The driver nods and guides you towards the lift, where the lights are dim and everything has this quiet, professional atmosphere you’ve only seen on screen.

You try to take it all in, letting your thoughts settle just a bit more as you follow through to the hallways upstairs, past doors labelled with room numbers and studios, and then finally, you’re outside the door to Jungkook’s studio, right where you’re supposed to meet.

Your heart beats a little faster as you hear Jungkook’s familiar voice call out, “Come in,” and when you open the door, you find him leaning casually against the chair before his equipment with an easy smile that somehow manages to be both happy and slightly flirty. 

Again, Jungkook’s dressed just like uniquely him, with a few silver rings glinting on his fingers. And while you didn’t think he’d even get up to greet you, he steps forward and embraces you in hug so tight, it leaves you drowning in him. 

“Hey,” he greets with that disarming grin, eyes boring into you, taking in your formal work attire, as he gestures to the coffee set up besides his laptop. “Hope you don’t mind the casual vibe.”

You laugh a little, settling onto the free chair beside him, feeling a bit strange but somehow not. “I think it’s perfect. And to be honest, I don’t think I’d cope well with the whole five-star dining treatment and whatnot.”

He laughs, nodding in agreement, taking your purse from your hands and draping it casually over the back of his chair. The fact that he’s still so attentive, even though he’s clearly in his element here but completely relaxed, is rather fascinating and pulls you in even more.

Like the day before, talking with him comes easy, and while there’s nothing groundbreaking in your conversations, every word feels meaningful in the bigger picture.

Eventually, you feel yourself relaxing like you were at home by your own, getting comfortable enough to let out the thoughts that have been swimming in your head since last night. “I’ve thought a lot about how all of this could play out,” you admit, taking a sip of your coffee, trying to find the right words, though knowing there won’t be any wrong words when talking with Jungkook. “And honestly, I’m not really interested in taking things public if they did work out. I know that’s probably strange to say, but I’m not cut out for the spotlight.”

He tilts his head, watching you thoughtfully. “No, it’s not strange at all. I get it.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you go on, “I just want something real. A partner who’s loyal, someone who’s there because we get each other, not because we’re some public ‘it’ couple, parading around every chance we get. Does that sound crazy?”

He shakes his head, while he swings from one side to the other.  “Not at all. That actually sounds perfect to me.” There’s a sincerity in his tone that makes you feel, for the first time, like there’s some truth to your report. “The whole ‘idol’ thing is just a job. It’s not who I am, not at the core. And having someone who sees it that way, is what I want too.”

It elates you to know that you could have something like this, with him,  someone you could genuinely share your life with.

Then, in a thoughtful voice, he asks, “What do you want for the future? I mean, outside all of this.” 

You take a breath, feeling a little nervous but wanting to be honest. It’s not like it’s news to him, seeing that this information’s written in the report he was handed. “I want something traditional. A home, a family, maybe staying home with kids, having that steady, grounded life. It sounds simple, I know, but it’s what I’ve always pictured.” You look up at him, expecting maybe a hint of judgement, but instead, you find him nodding, his eyes lighting up like a candle in the night.

“I don’t think that sounds simple at all, but meaningful.”

A shy smile forms on your lips as you add, “Sometimes I feel like people don’t see that side of things anymore, you know? Like everyone’s so focused on careers and success and everything else… and I get that, I do, but I’ve always just wanted something steady. Something I can hold on to.”

His hand finds yours, his fingers like second nature intertwine with yours, and the gesture is so simple yet so heartwarming that you feel like squealing out of happiness. “That’s exactly what I want too.” It’s nothing new to you too, but him saying that, seeing the honesty in his eyes, is better than any data shown to you. “I want that sense of home.”

You feel yourself falling a little harder, a little faster, and maybe that scares you a bit. You’ve seen the kind of attention he gets, the kind of girls that throw themselves at him, and it’s hard not to let those doubts creep in. Especially now. “I know this probably sounds insecure,” you start awkwardly, glancing away, “I think, I don’t know, maybe I’m not the kind of person someone like you would go for. I mean, you could have anyone, and not just because you’re an idol.”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. And while his mouth opens to say something, the pull against your hand surprises you as much as him settling you in his lab. “Hey, don’t think like that. I’m here because I want to be. And trust me, I’m not looking for ‘anyone’. I’m looking for someone who gets me. And that someone is you, no?”

The look in his eyes is so genuine, so unguarded, that it’s hard to keep your heart from doing all sorts of stunts. He’s not the polished idol right now; he’s just Jungkook, being flirty, being compassionate, being so him, sitting in a cosy studio with his tattoos, his piercings, his moles, his beautiful smile, his whole presence more comfortable and inviting than you could have imagined.

And as he sits there, looking at you like you’re the only person in the world, you realise that you definitely don’t have to doubt this. Maybe it’s okay to let yourself believe that he’s here because he wants to be, that he’s falling for you irrevocably just as you’re falling for him. 

“Sooo… that means?” You know you need to be brave now, because if this isn’t a dream, you’d never forgive yourself for not taking the leap.

“That means, if you want to, I’d love to have you as my girlfriend.”

“Isn’t it a bit rushed?” You don’t actually think so, but you still need to be sure.

“I’m all in if you are. I don’t want to waste any more time, and even though it’s just a report, I can feel there’s real truth behind it.”

Fast forward seven months, and you find yourself pressed against the shower wall like you do every night. But this time, it’s different—just hours ago, you made your first public appearance on a music show with Jungkook, just because you both felt ready, where he was not only nominated for Best Singer of the Year but won as well.

“Koo, right there, right there.”

It still amazes you how his cock seems to find your g-spot as soon as he enters you, though you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Yeah? Right there, hm? Or is it…” he trails off, shifting his hips ever so slightly, making you realise he’s actually hit the centre point of your g-spot now, his hard, unrelenting thrusts pushing you over the edge without warning.

“Oh my goooddd,” your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open against the cool shower wall, as your cunt keeps gripping him even though it’s already creaming around his cock.

“Good girl, keep going, love. Show me how many you can take tonight.”

There’s nothing you can do, not that you’d want to do anything other than let him rearrange your insides. Especially not when his tattooed hand finds its way from the back of your hair to your jaw, tilting your head to the side, giving you the perfect view of his upper body—rivulets of water cascading down his chiselled form, lips parted, eyebrows furrowed. 

He’s the epitome of perfection. Not just a ninety-nine percent but a hundred. 

His eyes, though hooded, bore into your soul as his hips pick up the pace. It’s this connection you share with him make being with him feel so special.

“Koo…”

“I know, love, just a bit more. Can you be a good girl?”

“Yes,” you moan, because hell, you can. “Yes, for you…ah, winning the trophy.”

Even though you shouldn’t feel his cock twitch with the pace he’s set, you do, realising instantly what he needs tonight.

“Best singer, Koo…fuck…best boyfriend, only fucking me when, hmm, the whole world wants a piece of you.”

“Only you. Always you, ___, love.” You think you catch him licking a drop of saliva from his lips as he stares down at where your bodies connect, sending another wave of arousal from your stretched-out hole.

“You’re so big.”

“Just for you, fuck, squeeze a bit more.”

It’s not that you did it on purpose, but when his hand shoots down to your clit, circling it just right, your body responds as though it’s never felt this good, soaking him even more and gripping him tight as a vice.

“Like that, love, like that.” Jungkook grunts and pants, holding you harder, tighter as his cock seems to swell even more, pumping frantically in sync with your impending second orgasm.

When Jungkook can’t hold back any longer, it’s all you need to let go too, the rush flowing through your veins just as fiercely as the love you feel for this man.

After some time, Jungkook pulls out, helping you straighten up and lean against his chest under the stream. His veiny hands trail down your body, washing away his release dripping out of you, as he plants kisses along the side of your face.

When he’s had enough, he, like always, turns you, brushing the wet strands of hair from your face. And as you do the same to him, captivated by how content and in love he looks, you can’t help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world when, for the first time, Jungkook declares his feelings.

“I love you, till the day I die, ___.”

“I love you too, and beyond.”

Because this, because having Jungkook calling you his, is beyond probability.

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀 If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ Ko-fi.com/runariya 💕

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[wonderjanga]

Kill Licenses

Stargirl was excited! Captain Marvel had just offered to let her fight crime with him in Fawcett. The man was like a big brother to everyone. That included her. He was super nice, was normally the person who first stepped up to diffuse a situation, and overall just a big teddy bear of a man. So it was a little bit a of a surprise when she saw him snap a rapist’s neck like a twig.

Marvel: *drops the body, muttering something about paperwork*

Stargirl: *gobsmacked*

Marvel: *looks over to her for a second before doing a double take* “Oh my gods I forgot you were here!” *sounds horrified*

Stargirl: “You just killed a man!”

Marvel: “I know- I know!” *leads her away from the body* “I’m so sorry you had to see that.” *sounds completely ashamed*

Stargirl: “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You killed a rapist. That’s one less evil in the world, but my question is how are you gonna get away with this?! Cap, you’re gonna go to jail!”

Marvel: “Ah… Well, no. I have a license to kill.”

Stargirl: “Wait, you can actually have one of those?”

Marvel: “Yeah, uh me, and most of the other Fawcett heroes have one. We’ve all had them since the sixties and had to get them renewed a while back. It’s not a bad thing to have for situations like this.”

Stargirl: “…Can I have one?”

Marvel: “Yes? No? I don’t know? You should in my opinion. It’s a good safety net for if you accidentally kill a villain. You just fill out some paperwork and you’ll be safe. Do you want one…?”

Stargirl: “Yes.” *immediate answer*

Marvel: “Are you sure? I mean, you’re a teenager, so you might need a parent to sign or something.”

Stargirl: “Well, I don’t have a parent right now, but I do technically have a temporary guardian at the moment.” *eyes him*

Marvel: “No… you’re not seriously suggesting…?”

And that’s how Marvel ended up taking Stargirl to a secret government base so she could get a kill license. Stargirl got a stellar recommendation from the Captain and passed with flying colors.

As they’re leaving the base…

Marvel: “Okay, so we need to lay some ground rules.”

Stargirl: “Ground rules?”

Marvel: “Yeah, ground rules. Now I know you’re not the type of kid to go around killing people all willy-nilly, but I’ll say it just in case, don’t go killing people all willy-nilly.”

Stargirl: “Well, duh, I’m not dumb.”

Marvel: “I know you aren’t. And now onto the actually important rule. Under any circumstances, do not kill around other heroes. That’s how Huntress got kicked out of the Justice League after all.”

Stargirl: “I can’t even do it around you?”

Marvel: “Well, I guess you could. And I guess you could do it around the other Fawcett heroes, but just make sure not to do it around heroes who don’t have a license, okay? I don’t wanna get in trouble, and I doubt you wanna get in trouble too.”

Stargirl: “Gotcha.”

Marvel: “Nice. Now that that’s out of the way, wanna go for victory ice cream since you got your license?”

A solid four months passed after this incident. The two forgot about it. They were chilling. Then, Courtney forgot that her stepdad didn’t know that she could legally kill a villain, fill out some paperwork, and face no repercussions.

S.T.R.I.P.E.: “YOU TOOK MY STEPDAUGHTER OUT TO GET A KILL LICENSE?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Marvel: “Nothing! I didn’t think it was a bad thing!”

S.T.R.I.P.E.: “She’s sixteen. She sliced a man’s head off. CLEAN. With practiced precision. She doesn’t even have a drivers license! What in hell would make you think it’s a good idea to give her a kill license?!”

Marvel: “Okay, her slicing off someone’s head isn’t my fault. I didn’t teach her that, and the guys who gave her the license didn’t either.”

S.T.R.I.P.E.: “Then who did??”

Marvel: “I don’t know! Maybe she’s just bloodthirsty?”

Stargirl: “No I’m not?” *sounds slightly offended*

Marvel: *ignores her* “Look, the point is, I’m sorry for not telling you but please, please, pretty please don’t tell Batman.”

S.T.R.I.P.E.: “Why?”

Marvel: “Oh come on. He’s super anti-kill. If you told him he’d have me removed from the Justice League almost instantly.”

S.T.R.I.P.E.: “Maybe you should be removed! You don’t just give a kid the okay to kill someone.”

Marvel: “I’m not giving her an okay to do anything. I only wanted her to have it as a safety net. I promise.”

It took a lot of convincing for Pat not to squeal to Batman, but thankfully, they got it in the end. Though, the man still ended up chewing the two out.

Inspired by @helps-the-writing-brain-go’s repost on my We Thought You Died?! post :) Thanks for the inspo!

[gilbertscurls]

Hurt Again ➵ Matt Sturniolo

summary: matt gets hurt. again.

You rushed through the door, your heart pounding in your chest. Chris had called you, sounding panicked, but it was Matt’s name he’d dropped—Matt was hurt, again.

You found Matt in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, clutching his side with a blood-stained towel. His jaw was clenched, eyes narrowed in discomfort, and even though he tried to act tough, you could see the pain etched on his face.

“Matt!” You dropped your bag and rushed to his side, panic clear in your voice. “You’re hurt? Why are you always hurt?”

Matt, trying to keep his usual cool exterior intact, looked up with a half-smirk. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? You’re bleeding!” You grabbed the towel from him to check the wound, and sure enough, there was a nasty gash running along his ribcage. He winced but said nothing.

“What happened?” you demanded, voice tight with worry as you grabbed the first aid kit from the cabinet. “And don’t even try to tell me it was nothing.”

Matt sighed, leaning against the counter. “I was trying to fix the shelf in my room. It’s been loose for a while. Didn’t realize it was that loose, though. Came down with half my tools.”

You shook your head, your hands moving quickly to clean the wound. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You could’ve called for help, you know.”

“I didn’t think I’d need it,” he muttered, his tone defensive but softened by the pain.

You shot him a look, your eyes narrowing. “Of course you didn’t.”

The room fell into a tense silence as you worked, carefully cleaning the gash and applying pressure. Matt, as usual, was trying to act like it didn’t bother him, but you could see his jaw tighten every time you pressed down on the wound.

After a few moments, you sighed, your voice softer now. “Why is it always you, Matt? Why are you always hurt?”

Matt glanced down, his expression hard to read. He wasn’t great at opening up, even to you, but there was something in the way you asked that made him pause. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just unlucky.”

You looked up at him, frustration and concern warring in your expression. “Or maybe you’re too stubborn for your own good. You don’t always have to do everything by yourself, you know?”

He huffed, trying to shrug it off. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Your voice cracked slightly, the worry you’d been holding back leaking through. “You’re always hurt, Matt. Whether it’s stuff like this or keeping everything bottled up. You don’t let anyone help you.”

Matt met your gaze, and for once, his usual walls seemed to falter. “I’m not trying to be a hero. I just… I don’t want to be a burden.”

Your hands stilled for a moment as you processed his words. You’d known Matt long enough to understand that he wasn’t great at accepting help, but hearing him admit it—hearing the vulnerability in his voice—hit you harder than you expected.

“You’re not a burden,” you said softly, placing a bandage over the wound. “You never have been.”

Matt looked away, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “I don’t know how to… let people in. Not like you do.”

You smiled, despite the situation. “I know. But maybe you could try? You don’t always have to be the tough guy. It’s okay to let people care about you.”

For a moment, Matt didn’t say anything, just stood there as you finished patching him up. When you were done, you stepped back, your eyes searching his face for some sign that he was listening.

Finally, he sighed, his defenses lowering. “I’ll try.”

You smiled, the warmth in your eyes chasing away the tension that had been building. “Good. Because the next time you try to take on the world by yourself and end up hurt, I’m going to kill you.”

Matt chuckled, wincing slightly as he adjusted his stance. “Deal.”

You stood there for a moment, the usual distance between you replaced by a quiet understanding. Matt wasn’t one to show his emotions easily, and you had always known that, but now—now, you felt like maybe you were finally starting to bridge that gap.

“You don’t have to keep getting hurt to prove you’re strong, you know,” you said softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face.

Matt met your eyes, and for once, there was no smirk, no sarcastic comment. Just a quiet, genuine look that said more than his words ever could.

“I know,” he murmured. “And thanks… for always being there.”

You smiled, your heart swelling a little at his rare display of vulnerability. “Always.”

And maybe, just maybe, Matt would finally start letting you in.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 22

Word Count- 12.8k

Warnings-swearing, violence, mentions of bad parents, alcoholism, Mikeal and his abuse, self-loathing

Soulmates. What the hell are soulmates? Well, obviously I know what the definition of a soulmate is but what the hell does it mean in the supernatural world? Neither of the two Salvatores that drove me home last night were very chatty about it. 

“Fables is what it is, Y/n.”

That is all Demon told me last night when he walked me to my front door. After I watched the two brothers drive off I stayed up for hours, actual hours, 5 to be exact, pacing my room waiting for Elijah to keep good to his word and come see me to explain what the hell happened tonight. But with the morning light streaming in my bedroom window, I realize that once again holding a man to his promise is never something I should do.

— 

I stare blankly at the multiple unread text messages and missed calls from Elena. All morning she’s been trying to call me but right now I don’t have the energy to handle whatever she wants to talk about, especially since it’s probably something that everyone else knows and I’m the last one to find out, per usual. 

When I haven’t been staring at my phone, I’ve been staring up at my white ceiling, replaying the events of last night in my head over and over again. Last night when I was up waiting for Elijah I researched everything I could possibly find on soulmates. But the more I read the more I started to freak the fuck out so I had to stop that for my own sanity. Which is ironic because I honestly don’t think I have any sanity left in me to spare. 

“Damn, you look like shit,” Theo’s obnoxious voice comes from an open doorway.

“Leave, Gremlin,” I groan as I grab a pillow and hold it over my face.

“Nope, sorry,” I hear his voice and then the pillow is ripped away from me, “Your depression is stinking up the house and I don’t need it affecting me. So get your ass up. We’re going clubbing.”

I move nothing but my eyes as I look at my brother. 

“We live in Mystic Falls. Where the hell would we go clubbing?”

Theo thinks to himself for a moment before tapping his chin, “Alright. Good point. See this is why we work, you're the brains,” He points to me, “And I’m the beauty.” 

“Leave me to rot,” I groan and try to reach for the pillow and he swats my hand.

“Back, demon! Listen, get your ass up I’m hungry and I’m going to give you the honor of buying me lunch,” Theo declares like this is some great prize I’ve won.

“No thanks,” I grab my blanket and cover my face with it.

A moment later my blanket it being ripped off of me, “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, I swear to the heavens above I will grab the garden hose and drench this entire room and yourself with it if you’re not in the car in 5 minutes,” Theo glares at me and then leans down and picks at a piece of my hair with disgust clear on his face, “Actually make that 10 minutes, you need to kick whatever family of rats is living in that mess you call hair.”

I go to complain but Theo shushes me, “I mean it! I’ll get the goddamn hose!”

I watch Theo dramatically stomp out of my room and I let out a sigh.

—

“I hate you,” I say to my brother as he holds open the door to The Grill for me.

Theo sends me a sweet smile, “No one could hate this face.”

I roll my eyes and begin to walk to an empty table when I notice Caroline and Elena sitting together at a table in front of us. 

Shit. 

I try to blend into the crowd but my obnoxious brother ruins that.

“Elena! Hey, Elena,” Theo’s voice booms throughout the restaurant and I instantly try to make myself as small as possible when I notice people turning to look at us. 

“Theo, stop,” I hit my brother in the stomach but he just grabs my hand and pulls me along.

We get to the girl's table in no time, thanks to Theo’s sprinting, and Elena instantly sits up in her seat when she sees me.

“Hey, Y/n,” Elena smiles softly at me and I nod my head at her and then send a smile to Caroline.

“I’m sorry about your Dad, Caroline. Damon told me this morning,” I say softly to her and she nods.

“Thanks, Y/n. And I was going to tell you myself but I just forgot,” Caroline reasons, and Stefan’s words from last night come barreling through my head. 

“Y/n?”

I shake my head clear and then try to pull a smile on my face, “Ya, totally. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ve tried to call you,” Elena tries to get my attention and I don’t meet her eyes.

“Ya, I forgot to charge my phone last night,” I lie and she looks at me as if she’s not sure she believes me. 

“Oh, okay. Um,” She goes silent for a moment before gesturing to the table, “Would you guys like to join us? We’re talking about the Mikaelson’s throwing their weird ball. Their mother invited me personally because she wants to speak to me about something.”

At Elena’s words, I frown in confusion, “Who are you talking about? Who are the Mikaelsons?”

“Wait! A party?! There’s going to be a party,” Theo’s practically jumping in place as he looks wide-eyed at the two girls. 

Elena looks at me confused for a second before lowering her head, “The Originals. They’re the Mikaelsons. We got invites this morning to attend their ball tonight,” Elena frowns sadly, “Did you not get one?”

A tightness in my chest builds at her pitiful look and I am sent back to my childhood when I would be the only kid in class who never got an invite to any of the other kid’s birthday parties. 

“Naw, we haven’t got anything,” Theo chimes in for me and I feel and lower his hand to wrap his pinky around mine, “Yet. But like honestly even if we do get invites, which we will because anyone who doesn’t invite the Y/L/N siblings are losers, we probably won’t go,” Theo says and looks at his nails as if the conversation is now boring him.

Caroline raises an eyebrow, “Why not?’

I can see Theo look over to me and then back to Caroline, “We’re going clubbing.”

I release a deep sigh at my brother’s words. 

“You guys are going clubbing?”

Caroline and Elena share a look and then I can see Elena look up to me, “And you agreed to this?”

I look down at Elena and an annoying wave of embarrassment washes through me. Even though I know they’re not judging me right now there’s that back part in my brain telling me they know someone like me isn’t cool enough to do anything like that, which is why I agree. 

“Yup. It’s how we bond,” I say, nodding and glancing at my nails. Mimicking my brother who I can see from the corner of my eye, has a huge grin on his face.

“So, are you two going to this dance?” I try to act nonchalantly. 

Caroline shakes her head, “Hell no! It’s some twisted Cinderella fetish is what it is. And Klaus only invited me to piss off Tyler.”

Klaus. Invited her.

“Klaus?”

My voice comes out pathetic, weak, and strangled and I feel Theo squeeze his pinky against mine. 

“Ya, he sent me a dress and everything,” Caroline says dramatically as if she doesn’t notice my change in demeanor, “It’s totally weird. Also,” Caroline looks at Elena, “Why does the evil witch want an audience with you?”

“Evil witch?”

Theo and I say in union and Elena looks up at us, “That was who was in the last coffin. The mother that Klaus killed…actually not so dead.”

I blink at what she says and feel my breathing speed up.

Elena looks back at Caroline, “I have no idea. There’s only one way to find out.”

Caroline sighs, “I thought you told Damon and Stefan that you weren’t going.” 

Great so it seems everyone knows about this dance.

Elena nods, “I did, which is all the more reason why I need a drama-free bodyguard.”

“Well, I think a Salvaotre would look a lot better in a tux, and by that, I mean Stefan.”

“Fuck that asshole,” Theo snarls catching Caroline and Elena off guard. 

“Theo, language,” I warn lightly but honestly don’t care enough to chastise him much.

Theo shakes his head defiantly, “Hell no. Elena, you can’t be seriously thinking about getting back together with the man who threatened to kill you and your best friend?!”

Theo’s uncharacteristic outburst seems to startle both of the girls and Elena shakes her head, “No, of course not. I can’t deal with any of the Salvatores right now. Whatever Stefan’s feeling, he’s channeling it all against Klaus and Damon… it’s not a good idea.”

Theo nods his head seemingly accepting her answer but as I stare at him something in his eyes tells me he’s not 100% convinced. 

Caroline and Elena converse for another moment about Elena kissing Damon and I can’t help but feel like nothing more than a fly on the wall again, just like I did last year and every year before. 

“Hey,” Theo leans down to whisper in my ear, “You good?”

I don’t meet my brother’s eyes because if there’s anyone in this world who could point out my lies it’s him so all I do is nod.

“Careful Y/n, Caroline, and Theo. It’s all well and good until she stabs you in the back,” A feminine British accent has me lifting my head and the sight of Rebekah surprises me. 

“What are you doing here? I know your mom’s rules. No hurting the locals,” Elena accuses.

Rebekah glares down at Elena, “Get over yourself, Elena. It’s not all about you,” Rebekah tells her and begins to walk away but stops when she gets to me.

“Meet me outside in 5 minutes would you, luv? I want us to have a little chat,” Rebekah smiles at me and I for some reason find myself nodding. 

All four of us watch Rebekah walk off over to Matt. Rebekah pulls out an envelope from her purse and hands it to the blonde boy. 

“Even the busboy got an invite,” I can hear Theo practically snarl under his breath. 

“Oh my God,” Caroline gasped, “She’s inviting him to the ball. Why is she inviting him?”

“Probably to get this reaction from us,” Elena says and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

“Or maybe she just wants a date,” I say under my breath and I hear Theo chuckle from beside me. 

Caroline huffs in sits back in her chair, “What time is this stupid dance?”

At Carolie’s words my heart plummets. I’m not entirely sure why. I mean who cares that she was invited by Klaus? Was gifted a dress by Klaus. Is going to dance with Klaus. I mean who cares right?!? Not me!

“We’re leaving,” I mutter to Theo grab his hand and begin pulling him.

“Wait,” I hear Elena call to me and I sigh, “You’re not actually going to talk with Rebekah, right?” I shrug my shoulders and stare at her annoyed, “Why wouldn’t I?”

Elena looks at me like I’ve grown two heads, “She’s evil, Y/n! You can’t trust her,” Elena tries to reason and I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. 

“Coming from the girl that quite literally stabbed her in the back.”

Elena blinks, shocked at my words. 

“Why are you acting like this?”

“I’m not acting like anything, Elena. I’m just relaying the information that has been told to me. Just like everything else that happens in this town,” I smile at her sarcastically and then turn around grabbing Theo’s hand. 

“We’re leaving.”

—-

“Damn, woman,” Theo says as I pull him out the door into the parking lot, “What’s got you in such a bad mood?”

I shake my head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I deny and Theo comes to stand in front of me with his arms crossed. 

“You can pull that denial shit with anyone else in this town, except me bitch. You and me, came from the same womb so that technically means we can read each other’s minds. So whatever you’re doing,” He raises his eyebrow, “This self-sabotaging thing or whatever it is, you need to let me in.”

I stare at my younger brother and feel tears rush to my eyes. Theo must see them because the stern look on his face quickly turns to fear.

“Oh shit, tears,” He quickly shakes his hands, “Please don’t cry! I don’t know how to handle tears,” He shakes his head, “Other than my own!”

“Is there something wrong with me?”

My question seems to catch my brother off guard as he frowns, “What? Like your fashion taste? Sister we’ve already established this.”

I shake my head and push away from him, “Never mind, God, just forget it.”

“Hey,” Theo pulls me back by my shoulders so I’m facing him, “I’m sorry, okay? You know I can’t do emotion without humor and sarcasm. But, why the hell would you ask me that? Did someone say something,” Theo’s concerned eyes turn to ones filled with anger, “Because if someone did I’m going to kill them.”

I just shrug my shoulders, “It doesn’t matter. I already know the answer.”

I begin to walk over to the car but Theo once again stops me, “Hold on for a second and talk to me! Why the hell would you ever think something is wrong with you?”

I look at my brother and clench my nails into my palm, “Because there has to be,” I almost cry out. Feeling the tsunami of emotions I’ve been holding in for the past few weeks rush forward, “There has to be a reason why people don’t choose me. Why my whole life I’ve always been on the outside looking in. Watching everyone live their lives happy and free while all I do is watch and hope that one day someone will notice me watching and ask me to join. I need there to be a reason because if there’s not then…”

Theo watches me with a heartbroken expression, “Then what, Y/n?”

I wipe a stray tear off my face, “Then there’s nothing I can change. And it means that it’s just me,” I point to myself defeated, “That I was just born this way. Born to watch everyone else be the main characters in my own life.”

I stare with blurred vision up at my brother who looks defeated as he shakes his head.

“Y/n, no one thinks that about you. And I promise everyone feels that way every once and a while it’s normal,” My brother’s soothing voice only frustrates me more.

I shake my hands, “You don’t get it, Theodore! Other people may feel this way every once and a while, but,” I shove my finger into my chest harshly, “I feel this way all of the time!”

“Y/n?”

I turn to see Rebekah staring at me confused, and I quickly wipe the tears off my face. Rebekah’s face drops as she watches me and she instantly rushes towards me.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt,” She asks me look a mother coddling her child. 

I shrug her away and nod my head feeling numb again, “Fine. Don’t worry about it,” I look at Theo grab the keys out of my pocket, and throw them to him, “Drive yourself home. I’m going for a walk.”

I turn around and can hear them calling after me but I don’t turn around. 

—

Why the fuck did I walk?

Why the fuck did I throw a goddamn temper tantrum. 

God, can I be normal for five fucking seconds!??

These thoughts run through my head over and over again until I realize I’ve made it to the Salvatore house. Which is still about a 15-minute drive, or a one-hundred-hour walk to my house. Fuck me. 

I’m about to continue walking when a flash of red catches my eye. 

I eye the car that Stefan tried to kill me in for a moment and then shake my head, “No, I couldn’t.”

I take another few steps and then feel a cramp in my thigh. 

“Fuck it.”

—

I speed into my driveway and a laugh escapes my mouth.

I just stole a car. I JUST STOLE A FUCKING CAR.

I laugh to myself like a crazy person as I shift it into park and get out of it. I stand there admiring the stolen vehicle until I hear footsteps behind me.

“I see you’ve acquired a new vehicle,” Elijah smiles at me kindly and I fight the urge to punch him.

“I stole it,” I bite and walk past the Original and up my porch.

“Stole it?”

“Yup, stealing is when you take something that isn’t yours. Pick up a dictionary,” I snarl as I try to put my key into the lock but with my shaking hands I just keep missing.

Elijah is quiet for a moment before I feel him next to me, “Here,” He extends his hand, “Let me.”

I shake my head and keep trying, “Screw off.”

“Excuse me,” Elijah’s tone comes off as somewhat surprised and a little irritated. 

“Telling someone to screw off means they don’t want you around,” I mimic my tone from before and I hear Elijah sigh.

“You’re upset with me because of last night,” He says out loud as if it’s some fucking revelation. 

I finally get the key into the lock, unlock the door, and then open it. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I step inside and try to slam the door in his perfect face but it gets stopped by his perfectly polished designer shoe. 

“Elskan,” Elijah nudges the door open against my weight and I glare daggers at him.

“Stop calling me that,” I bite and he furrows his eyebrows. 

“Please, let me explain,” He tries to reason with me and I shake my head.

“There’s nothing to explain. If you think last night is the first time I’ve ever been let down by a man, you are horribly mistaken. Now leave me alone.”

Elijah's free hand doesn’t move from the door and I realize he’s holding a big white box with his other hand.

“I understand you’re mad at me. You have every right to be. I hate breaking my word, most importantly when it comes to you. I just hope you’ll listen to me now when I tell you how sorry I am,” He says earnestly and I glare at him.

“You’re sorry?”

Elijah nods, “I never intended to stand you up last night but there were…complications.”

I blink at him unimpressed, “Ya, you’re dead mother isn’t dead. Whoopty fucking doo.”

Elijah’s posture stiffens for a moment, “You know?”

“I’m the last one to find out it seems, but ya I do. So I’m sure mommy dearest wants you home for your little ball or whatever so why don’t you get off my porch and go home, Elijah Mikaelson,” I snarl his last name at him and he frowns.

“I understand you need some time to think,” Elijah nods his head and brings the white box up, and gestures for me to take it, “I’ll be at my family's ball tonight. I would be incredibly grateful if you would join me?”

I blink at his question and try to fight back any emotions other than anger. Elijah nods when he realizes he’s not going to get an answer right now and then places the box on the porch swing next to us.

“I hope to see you tonight,” Elijah gives me one last look before walking off the porch.

You won’t. 

—

He will. 

FUCKING THEODORE.

“I fucking hate you,” I glare at my little brother as I put on the stupid diamond necklace Elijah gifted me. 

Theo, who stands next to me in front of my mirror smirks, “You’ll thank me later.”

I shake my head as I struggle to latch the necklace, “Hell to the no.”

Theo tightens his tie and then rolls his eyes, “Whatever,” He shoots me a look and then laughs, “Here let me help you.”

I glare at him but still let him take the necklace and latch it behind my neck.

After he latches it Theo’s eyes stay on the huge diamond necklace that adorns my neck. 

“How much do you think that cost?”

I look at the huge statement diamond that hangs in the center of a dozen tinier diamonds holding the necklace together. I feel the weight of the diamonds, against my chest and cringe.

“Too much,” I look at the huge off-white gown that is encrusted with lace and crystals that I’m wearing and pinch the bridge of my nose, “This is all too much.”

Theo smirks and straightens out his black suit jacket, “Elijah may be a scary old vampire, but you got to give him some props,” He gestures to my dress, “The guys got great taste. And expensive too,” He points to the matching diamond bracelet on my left wrist, “After today you can pawn the necklace and bracelet, make bank, and then you and I hit Vegas.”

I turn and glare at my brother who smirks at me, “Not happening. We’re going to this stupid dance and then tomorrow morning I’m returning all of this crap and never talking to any of the Mikaelsons again.”

I watch Theo nod slowly and raise an eyebrow, “Rrrrrighttttt. Sure, okay. Um, how exactly do you plan on doing that? Also, I thought you and Rebekah were friends?”

I sit down on my bed and strap on the nude heels that were also in the huge white box that carried everything Elijah gave me.

“I’ll,” I stop and blow out a breath, “I’m going to….”

Theo snorts and nods, “Ya, you do that, nerd.”

With a huff, I stand up and take a step to grab my shawl but I let out a squeal when I trip over myself and bump into Theo.

Theo grabs my shoulders and pushes me upright and then dusts off his jacket, “Dude, walk much?”

I roll my eyes and throw my shawl over my shoulders, “I don’t wear heels!”

Theo purses his lips, “Cleary, hoe.”

I shoot him a glare, “Tell me why I’m letting you drag me to this again?”

Theo instantly smiles brightly at me and throws his arms over my shoulder pushing me down the hall, “Because you got personally invited by one of the hosts, and it would be rude to not go.”

I turn my head and shoot him a look and he smirks.

“Ok, maybe I don’t really care about him. But, come on! It’s a party and if we don’t go people will talk about how we were the only ones in town not invited!”

I shake my head as Theo opens the front door, “But we were invited?”

“Technically, you were invited. My invite must’ve gotten lost in transit,” He says confidently to himself, “And also people won’t know we were invited unless we go. And we need a night out. Too much shit has happened and we need fun.”

I go to argue but Theo shushes me.

“Nope. No complaining,” Theo then looks down at Stefan’s red car that is still sitting in our driveway, “Also, where the fuck did that come from?”

I cringe and close my eyes, “I kind of…stole it away from Stefan.”

I open my eyes and cringe as I look at my brother’s mad face.

“Are you serious?!”

I cringe at his yelling, “I’m sorry, okay? I was worked up and mad at the dick so I-”

“Bitch! I’m not mad at you for stealing the damn thing,” He gestures wildly at the car, “I’m mad that you stole a fucking car without ME!”

I blink and then shake my head, “I’m sorry. Next time I steal a motor vehicle, I’ll alert you first. Alright?”

Theo wipes a non-existent tear off his cheek and then nods, “Fine. But I get to drive there.”

I shake my head, “Hell to the no.”

“Oh, so you’re going to drive in those,” Theo asks and points to the heels I’m wearing and I frown.

“Fine. But, if you hit anything it’s on you.”

—

Theo hit 3 mailboxes. Ran a red light. The car no longer has a front fender. 

“Well,” Theo opens my car door for me and I step out shaking, “That was…fun.”

My eye twitches as I look at my brother furiously and outstretch my shaking hand. Theo doesn’t say anything but nods his head in defeat, placing the car keys in my palm. 

“Never again,” I growl.

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad,” I whip around to the car that now has no fender, a broken headlight, multiple dents, and an uncountable amount of scrapes, “Okay, ya. Never mind that one is on me.”

I close my eyes, take a deep breath in and out, and feel Theo grab my arm.

“But at least we look good as fuck. Our parent’s gene pools do it again,” Theo says happily and then stops and cringes, “Sorry.”

I shake my head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know… the fact that we don’t have the same father so your gene pool isn’t his gene pool,” Theo explains and I have to take another deep breath.

“Sarcasm, Theodore. I was being sarcastic.”

“Ohhhhh,” Theo nods and guides me up a huge staircase to the massive mansion that is covered in lights and beautiful decorations. 

We stop as we wait behind three rows of couples and I feel my hand start to shake.

“Hey, it’s all cool,” Theo smiles down at me and I wish for even a second I could believe him. 

“Next!”

Theo and I walk up to the security guard and he holds out his hand, “Invite?”

I look over to Theo expectantly and he does the same to me, “Please don’t tell me you left it at home?”

Theo shakes his head, “Bitch, it was your invite?!”

“But you’re the one that wanted to come!”

“Listen,” The guard catches our attention, “If neither of you have an invite I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” He says and points to the parking lot.

“Sir, my sister was personally invited by the Elijah Mikaelson,” Theo states and the guard rolls his eyes. 

“Ya, I’m sure she was,” He says sarcastically, “Now leave or I’ll have you escorted off the property.”

“That won’t be necessary,” A British voice says and I look up to see the light-brown-haired younger brother of Klaus and Elijah. Kol.

Theo shoots me a look, “Please tell me you didn’t bag, another one!”

I glare back at him, “Shut up!”

“They’re with me,” Kol tells the guard and reaches out an arm for me to take. 

I stare at him cautiously for a moment before I hear people behind me start to express their annoyance. 

With my free hand, I grab Kol’s right arm, while still holding on to Theo with my right arm. 

Kol smirks down at me as he leads Theo and me into a huge ballroom, brightly lit with candles and twinkling lights, “My family can be quite dramatic with these things,” I look up at him and try to not notice how attractive yet another Mikaelson sibling is, “But, with our whole family back together again, our mother thinks it calls for a celebration.”

“How rich are you guys,” Theo asks bluntly and I jab my elbow into his stomach.

Kol smirks at him, “Very rich.”

I hear Theo mutter something about rich bitches under his breath and I try to not laugh. 

“Thank you for helping us get in,” I say quietly to Kol and he shrugs.

“No worries. I thought I’d get to you first before the wolves descend,” He says nonchalantly but I can feel myself shake again at his words.

Kol must notice this because his eyebrows furrow, “Why are you doing that?”

I shake my head, “Doing what?”

Kol raises an eyebrow, “You’re shaking and your heartbeat is incredibly loud,” He says as if the noise annoys him.

“She has anxiety dickhead,” Theo bites at the vampire and I thrash my head over to my brother. 

“Theo! Don’t be a dick!”

Theo shrugs and eyes Kol, “He’s the one making you feel bad for something you can’t control. How are you a thousand years old and not know what anxiety looks like?”

I cringe in pain when I feel Kol’s grip tighten on my arm.

“Theo,” I pinch my brother’s arm, “Please go get us some drinks, non-alcoholic.”

Theo glares back at me like I’m crazy and quickly shakes his head, “No, I’m not leaving you alone. Definitely not with him,” He points at Kol and I inhale a quick breath.

I turn to look at Kol, who is looking at Theo as if he wants to rip him in two.

“Theo,” I bite harshly, “Go. Now.”

Theo’s expression drops as he turns his attention back towards me. He must noticed the nervous look on my face because he lets out a sigh and nods his head.

“Ok,” He looks at Kol once more, “I’ll be right back.”

I watch with bated breath as Theo walks away and disappears into the crowd.

“Friend of yours?”

Kol’s tense voice makes me tense. 

I turn and look at him and see the dark gleam in his eyes.

“My little brother,” I say equally as tense, “Try anything and I’ll steal one of those fancy daggers from your asshole brother and stab you myself.’’

Kol and I watch each other for a moment before he slits his eyes and hums, “If you were anyone else I’d rip your ribs out and stab you with them…but since I don’t want Nik or Elijah daggering me again and locking me away for another one hundred years,” He looks down at me and smirks, “You don’t have to worry about you coming to any harm from me.”

I stare at Kol with wide eyes and rip my arm out of his hold and he raises an eyebrow and smirks at my movement. 

“I notice you didn’t mention my brother in that,” I turn to stand and glare at him, “I may not be able to stab you myself but trust me when I say this, for some reason, Klaus and Elijah don’t like it when I’m upset and people who make me upset,” I pause and think back to Klaus threatening Stefan, “and someone harming my brother would really make me upset.”

Kol stares back at me and after a moment he nods, “If you keep this attitude up, you’ll fit in just fine with my family.”

I furrow my eyebrows, “I want nothing to do with your family.”

Kol smirks as if what I just said was the funniest thing he just heard, “Oh Darling, you don’t have any choice in the matter anymore. Fate’s already picked you.”

I shake my head confused, “What the hell is everyone talking about?! What the hell does fate have to do with anything and what the hell is a fucking soulmate?”

Kol’s eyes widen slightly, “Women never swore as much as you do before I was daggered.”

I glare at him and he laughs, “My brothers say I’m not allowed to tell you anything,” He pauses and shrugs, “Actually they said I’m not allowed to even approach you.”

I look at him and groan in frustration. 

“But when have I ever listened to what my brothers say,” I look up and find Kol smirking devilishly at me, “What do you want to know, Darling.”

I feel a weight lift off my shoulders at the idea of finally getting answers.

“What is a soulmate?”

Kol nods to a waiter passing by and grabs two glasses of champagne, he gestures for me to take one but I shake my head and he shrugs. Then he downs both of them.

“Let me give you the shortened version because I’m sure my brothers have already smelt you when you entered the house, so I’m sure they’ll be finding you soon,” Kol makes a show of looking around the room and then back to me, “Soulmates mean different things in different cultures…but, in your case soulmates mean someone who is bound to you forever. Someone who is a part of you, someone who is you.”

I shake my head not understanding what the hell he’s talking about. 

“There’s not much understanding behind what this means in the supernatural world. There’s been much speculation, but what I do know is that when we were turned, our souls were ripped out. That human part of us was taken away…but it had to go somewhere.”

I shake my head and laugh in denial, “So what, you’re saying that I have Klaus’ and Elijah’s souls in me?”

Kol sighs and taps his chin in thought, “Ya. Pretty much.”

I let out a laugh at his joke.

“That’s really funny. It's good to know you didn’t lose your humor while in your coffin,” I smirk.

My smirk starts to slowly fall though as Kol doesn’t laugh with me. 

No fucking way. 

“You’re not joking are you?”

Kol’s smirk drops, “I honestly wish I was, Darling. I wouldn’t wish that fate on my worst enemy.”

“Elskan?”

Of course.

At the sound of Elijah’s voice, I let out a sigh and turned to see Elijah pushing through a few guests to walk over to Kol and me. 

“Oh, fuck me,” I say under my breath and I hear Kol giggle.

“Don’t say that too loud, or my brother will take that as a request,” Kol gests and I stare wide-eyed at him which makes him laugh again. 

“I wasn’t sure if you would come,” Elijah says as he comes to stand in front of Kol and me. 

“I didn’t want to,” I say.

Kol laughs again and I see Elijah turn his attention to his younger brother, “Brother, it appears you’ve met the lovely Y/n Y/l/N.”

Kol throws a hand over my shoulder making me jump and cringe at the feeling of a stranger's touch, “Yes, we’re practically thick as thieves already.”

Elijah’s eyes darken and narrow as he looks at Kol’s hand that rests on my shoulder, “So it appears.”

I bite my lip as I wait for Elijah and Kol to be done with their glaring at one another. Or more like, Elijah glaring at Kol and the latter smirking. 

“Well,” I say interrupting them, “You two have fun…I’m going to go…anywhere else,” I turn to Kol who turns to me, “I would say it was nice to meet you Kol, but you are kind of weird.”

“Right back at you, Darling,” Kol says and smirks at me.

I don’t spare either man another glance as I try to push through the crowd away from them. 

“Y/n,” Elijah’s voice calls from behind me and I roll my eyes, “Please wait a moment.”

With a sigh, I stop and wait a moment for Elijah. It doesn’t take him but a moment to stand in front of me. 

“What?”

Elijah’s dark look is long gone and replaced with a smile, “You look positively breathtaking.”

I look away from him and nod, “Thanks. I mean you’re the one who picked out the dress so.”

“The dress, although beautiful, has nothing to do with the radiance that is you,” Elijah says as his eyes scour my face. 

I look at him and finally get to focus on just how attractive he looks right now. Y/n he always looks good. Shut up. He’s switched out his usual suit for a black tux that hugs his chest perfectly. His dark hair is styled expertly letting his beautiful face to be put on display.

“You don’t look horrible,” I shrug, “I guess.”

Elijah’s upper lip twitches and he nods, “Thank you, I think.”

Elijah and I stand staring at each other for a moment before he clears his throat.

“I’m glad you accepted my invitation to be my date,” Elijah smiles and uck in a breath.

“Sadly for you, my man,” I hear Theo’s voice come up from behind me, “She’s actually my date.”

I let out a sigh as I feel Theo wrap his arm around my arm and tug me towards him. 

I watch Elijah’s eyes narrow for a moment before he gives Theo a strained smile, “And you are?”

Theo smirks and puffs out his chest, “Theo Y/L/N. Pleasure,” He eyes Elijah, “I’m sure.”

I see the wheels turning in Elijah’s head and his shoulders seem to untense. 

“You’re Y/n’s younger brother. Am I correct?”

At Elijah’s question, Theo nods his head, “The one and only. And let me guess,” He puts his free hand on his hip, “You’re the man who showed up on my doorstep this morning begging my sister to not kick him to the curb. Am I correct?”

I stare wide-eyed at Theo in disbelief, and then back to Elijah.

The Original stares at my brother for a moment and I wait for the backlash.

“That would be me, Theodore,” Elijah smiles, and I raise an eyebrow, “But, I‘m not so sure what your sister has decided to do with me. At least not yet.”

Theo whips around to me, “Well? What are you going to do with him?”

My eyes widen and I switch my attention from Theo to Elijah, who also looks expectant on an answer. 

“Um,” I look between the two men and freeze. 

Thankfully, someone entering through the door pulls our attention. 

Not someone. Caroline. 

Caroline is wearing a light blue gown that makes her look just like Cinderella and beautiful as always. 

“Um, I’m going to go see Caroline,” I turn away from the two men and quickly begin to walk towards my blonde friend. For a moment I think she sees me as her eyes focus on something, but when I follow her gaze behind me I see her staring at…Klaus. 

Oh. 

Klaus, who looks absolutely earth-shattering, turns his attention from Caroline towards me and I feel my heart drop. The enlightened look on his face, the look he had when looking at Caroline, drops when he sees me. The blank look on his face makes a burning start in the back of my eyes and I quickly divert them from him.

With Elijah behind me and Klaus to my right, I quickly book it to my left, through a doorway, and run down a hall. 

I run until I meet a dark brown door and I throw it open and go inside. As soon as I close the door I lean my head against it, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. 

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” A British voice says.

“Fucking Brits,” I groan out and turn around.

The other Mikaelson sibling, Finn I believe, stands before me. His once long hair is cut shorter and he’s wearing a suit that matches his brothers. 

“You’re Finn,” I say and he narrows his eyes at me.

“Yes and you’re the soulmate,” He says annoyed.

I eye him and he eyes me.

 What the hell is up with the Mikaelson siblings and glaring? 

“Is this your room?”

Finn eyes me for another moment before nodding, “Yes.”

I nod and then wring my shaking hands together, “I’m sorry for barging in. I just… I couldn’t be out there. Around so many people.”

He doesn’t say anything and I nod, “I’ll leave. I’m sorry.”

I turn around and grab the handle.

“Wait,” Finn’s voice calls to me and I turn around, “You can stay. Just don’t touch anything.”

I look at Finn and then nod, “I won’t. Thank you.”

I slowly walk towards a couch and sit down careful not to rip my dress. I look up to Finn, who is standing in the corner of the room looking more awkward than I feel.

“Do you want to sit with me,” I ask gesturing to the other couch across from me. 

Finn looks up at me suspiciously and then shakes his head, “I shouldn’t. Mother wants me out with the others,” Finn says and then walks towards the door. 

“I’m sorry,” I say to him before he can open it. 

I see him stop, “You already apologized.”

I shake my head, “Not about barging in…About what your siblings did to you.”

I see Finn’s shoulders instantly tense up and he turns around with a glare on his face, “You have no idea what my siblings did to me.”

I reposition uncomfortably and then shrug, “I know that they left you in a coffin for almost your entire life or at least that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve never been daggered by one of my family members but…I recently was betrayed by some of my family,” I open and then close my mouth thinking of what to say, “So I just…I guess I know what it’s like to feel betrayed.”

Finn’s eyes drop and he looks away from me. I take a deep breath and then turn back to look at my hands. I wait for Finn to either leave or kill me for speaking out of turn. What I didn’t expect though was for him to walk over to the other couch and place himself on it with a sigh.

We sit in silence for a moment before he sighs again, “I don’t blame you for not wanting to be out there,” He looks behind me towards the door, “It’s too loud.”

I nod and then realize just how much worse it probably is for him than me. 

“This must be a lot for you,” I say and play with the diamond bracelet I’m wearing,

“Being away from civilization for so long, and now you have to get used to everything. I wouldn’t want to attend a party either.’’

Finn looks up at me and his face contorts into one of confusion, “You’re peculiar.”

I let out a low laugh, “Trust me, I know. Pretty much everyone does,” I say and take a sigh. 

Finn eyes me oddly for a moment, “What do you mean?”

I shrug, “I’m not a very popular person. At all. For some reason, people don’t like to be around me much. Not even my family it seems.”

I feel my face warm up at the embarrassment I feel for spilling all that to a stranger.

“You’re not the only one that feels that way,” Finn says breaking me out of my embarrassment. 

I look up to Finn and for a moment it’s like looking in a mirror. The sad look in his eyes is one I’ve seen one too many times when looking in my own mirror. 

“You’re not what I was expecting,” Finn says as he leans back onto the couch. 

I frown, “What do you mean?”

Finn eyes me, “You’re my brother’s soulmate. They’re both cruel and monstrous…yet you’re, peculiar.” 

I shake my head, “What does that have to do with Elijah or Klaus?” Finn nods his head, “They said you don’t know anything about your soul bond,” He says to himself, “With souls being connected, the soulmates usually share personality qualities…yet you don’t seem monstrous like either one of my brothers.”

At his continuing insult to Klaus and Elijah, tension builds in my shoulders, “Then you haven’t seen me in the morning,” I joke but Finn doesn’t seem to get it. Or doesn’t find it funny, “Klaus and Elijah don’t seem that horrible. I mean ya they do bad things but, if anyone were alive for one thousand years then I’m sure they would also pile up their own bad deeds.”

Finn seems to be annoyed by my answer as he huffs and goes to stand up.

“Do you have a soulmate?”

Finn stops moving in his tracks and instantly looks at me, “Why are you asking?”

I shrug my shoulders, “I don’t know…Just wondering.”

Finn seems like he’s not going to say anything, but at least he sits back down.  

“I think once I did,” Finn’s voice comes out so quietly I have to lean forward to hear him.

“Before you were daggered?” Finn doesn’t meet my eyes but he nods, “Sage. Her name was Sage.”

I frown at his saddened voice, “You loved her?”

I sad smile forms on Finn’s face, “I did,” He pauses, “I do.”

I feel my heart breaking for the man before me.

“Was she human?”

Finn frowns, “She was. Until she had me turn her so we could be together,” He pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I was daggered shortly after.”

“And what happened to her?”

Finn’s jaw tightens, “Well, it was over 900 years ago…I’m sure she’s…”

I nod, sadly, “Right.”

We sit in solemn silence for a moment before an idea comes to me, “How are you so sure,” Finn looks up at me confused, “That she’s dead.”

Finn shakes his head, “She has to be.”

I shake my head as well, “Finn, it was 900 years ago. She would be incredibly strong, one of the strongest vampires to date. I would be surprised if she wasn’t alive and if she truly loved you, I think she would’ve waited for you.”

Finn looks at me and I can see the wheels turning in his head but he still shakes his head, “It’s not possible.”

I laugh, “Dude, werewolves, vampires, and witches exist. Nothing is short of impossible here.”

Finn stops shaking his head, “Even if she was…there’s no way I could find her.”

I stay quiet for a moment until an idea comes to my mind, “I have a friend. She’s a witch, a really good witch. Maybe…I could ask her and we could find her. All three of us.”

Finn stares at me for a long moment. 

“Why would you do that? Why would you do that, for me?”

I give Finn a soft smile, “I’m kind of peculiar.”

Finn’s solemn face changes for the first time since I’ve seen him. His sorrowful eyes look almost…hopeful now.

“I’d appreciate that. Greatly.”

Finn and I smile at one another until the door opening makes me jump.

“Finn,” A feminine voice says and I turn and see a blond older woman.

“Mother,” Finn instantly jumps up.

“Mother?!”

I jump up shocked and stare at the older woman who eyes me, kind of nastily. 

“What is going on here,” She asks Finn suspiciously and he pauses. 

“Um, Mrs. Mikaelson,” I say and she goes back to eyeing me, “Hey, Y/n,” I point to myself, “Finn and I were just discussing new-age technology. I heard he’s new to this era so I thought me and I could chat about it.”

I turn to Finn, “This was a good chat. Let’s meet…tomorrow. We can discuss how to send text messages.”

Finn eyes me oddly like he doesn’t know what the hell I’m talking about, but he still nods. 

“Great! Well,” I turn back to his mother, “Pleasure to meet you…I guess. I’ll be leaving now. Bye, Finn!”

I quickly speed-walk past both of them and exit the room. I close the door and take a deep breath. 

“Y/n?”

“Oh come on!”

I turn around to see Rebekah walking towards me. Just like all other Mikeaslons, she looks absolutely gorgeous. The green dress she’s wearing matches perfectly with her blonde long hair. 

“Are you alright?”

I nod and start to walk by her back to the party, “Peachy. Just happened to run into your mother. Tense lady.”

Rebekah walks up next to me and smiles, “Yes, my mother is an acquired taste. Don’t let her get to you though, you’re a part of this family.”

I shake my head viscously, “No I am not.”

“Yes you are,” She says as we enter the ballroom. An incredibly crowded ballroom. 

“Literally, am not.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Rebekah laughs. 

We both watch the crowd of people dance, laugh, and talk. 

“My brother has been looking for you,” She says and I groan.

“Ya? Which one?”

Rebekah smirks, “Elijah, and Nik.”

“Well, I don’t want to see either one.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Rebekah smirk, “Unluckily for you, I don’t think you have a choice,” At her tone, I look over to her and she nods her head to her left.

I follow her eyeline and let out another groan at the sight of Elijah making his way over to us. 

“God it’s like he has a tracker on me,” I say sarcastically.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past either of them,” Rebekah replies. 

We both watch as Elijah approaches us with a content smile, “Good evening, ladies,” Elijah says with his perfect accent, “Rebekah, mother wants us on the staircase,” Elijah turns his attention towards his younger sister and she rolls her eyes.

“Fine,” Rebekah says sarcastically then turns to me, “It was lovely to talk to you, Y/n. We’ll chat soon.”

I nod silently and watch as she walks towards the staircase. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Elijah’s voice makes me close my eyes.

“Doesn’t mommy want you on that staircase?”

Elijah’s jaw tenses and he rolls his shoulders, “Behave, Elskan.”

I purse my lips, “Don’t tell me what to do, Suit and Tie.”

Elijah’s tense expression lightens, “Suit and Tie?”

I shrug, “You have a nickname for me. I think it’s only fair I have one for you, as well.”

“Suit and tie,” Elijah says to himself as if he’s seeing how it sounds, “Hmm. It’ll need work, but it’s fine for now.”

I fight back a smirk at his words, “Fine. I’ll workshop it.”

Elijah and I stand there for a moment and I feel his gaze on me the entire time. 

“What did you and my younger brother talk about,” Elijah asks with a hint of skepticism in his voice. 

“Oh, nothing,” I look at my nails as if I’m bored, “Just the fact that I supposedly have your and Klaus’ human souls in me.”

I smirk as I watch Elijah instantly tense up, “My brother was told not to talk to you about that.”

“Well, no one else wanted to keep their word and talk with me about it. So, I’m glad he did,” I cringe, “Actually…I’m not sure. I still have no idea what the hell is going on.”

Elijah nods, “Once again…I apologize that I was unable to make it last night. You should’ve heard that from me and not from…Kol,” He says the name and I can clearly tell how pissed off he is at his younger brother right now. 

“But I did,” I harshly say, “And I still don’t have any clue what to make of it. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Elijah sighs, “I know, Y/n. And I promise you, that I will tell you everything you want to know,” His eyes travel behind me and he sighs, “Right after I deal with my family.”

I nod, “Elijah, your promises don’t mean anything until you start living up to them.”

Elijah sends me a saddened smile and nods, “And I look forward to doing that.”

I nod and with a final smile, Elijah walks up a grand staircase to meet his siblings. 

“Uh, if everyone could gather, please,” Elijah addresses the crowd of people standing below him and his family. 

As I gaze at each Mikaelson sibling I can’t help but hate them all for how hot they all are. Like seriously, the most supernatural thing in this town is this family's good looks.

Elijah stands before his family, confident and strong; Below him, walking up the stairs, Finn stands with a scowl on his face. Even with the scowl, no one could deny how attractive the eldest brother is; Rebekah who stands behind Finn is a bright light compared to her brother’s darker exteriors; Kol who stands at the top step chugging his bottle of champagne looks so boyishly handsome it could make even the most confident girl blush; and last Klaus. The bitch-ass hybrid stands in the middle of all his siblings as if nonverbally telling all of us looking up at them that he’s the one that deserves their utmost attention and respect. 

As if he could read my thoughts, the bastard’s eyes trail to me. The calculative look on his face doesn’t change as he stares down at me and I don’t care enough to hide the glare I know I have on my face. 

“Welcome,” Elijah’s voice calls my attention once again and I trail my eyes away from Klaus to his older brother, “Thank you for joining us. You know, whenever my mother,” Elijah gestures to the older blonde woman making her way down the steps and I hate to say it but she’s also pretty hot. A shitty fucking person, but pretty hot, “brings our family together like this, it’s a tradition for us to commence the evening with a dance. Tonight’s pick is a centuries-old waltz so if all of you could please find yourselves a partner,” Elijah’s eyes land right on me as he talks, “Please join us in the ballroom.”

I debate on running away before anyone can ask me to dance but as I watch Elijah practically hop down the steps, dodge women trying to ask for his hand, all while having his eyes stuck on me I can’t help but only try to fight back the grin on my face. 

“Elskan,” Elijah gives me a smile that makes me want to curl up into a ball and scream, “I would be ever so delighted if you would join me for this dance.”

I look at Elijah’s outstretched hand and cringe, “I can’t dance. Let alone, Waltz.”

Elijah smiles blissfully, “Then let me show you.”

I bite my lip thoughtfully as I stare at him for a moment before relenting, “Fine,” I point at him, “But if I step on your fancy designer shoes I don’t want any complaining.”

Elijah’s smile doesn’t change as he chuckles, “I’d happily have all of my shoes ruined by you if it meant I’d never have to have a different dance partner again.”

I roll my eyes, trying to hide the fact that his words are making me lowkey freak the fuck out. So all I do is place my hand in his and let him lead me to the dance floor where other couples are lined up. 

“I’m going to fall and make a fool out of myself” I whisper to myself as “Give Me Love” By Ed Sheeran starts playing.

“I’d never let you fall,” Elijah leans down and whispers in my ear and I gaze up to him.

“You’re pretty slick with your words. Y’know that right,” I joke and he shrugs.

“I’ve been told this once or twice,” He squeezes my hand and I’m glad the music is so loud because if it wasn’t I’d be sure every vampire in this room could hear how loud my heart was pounding.

Elijah guides me forward as the music starts and I try to copy the woman in front of me as she glides forwards. We turn forward, directly in front of Theo who is dancing with Mayor Lockwood and I let out a small snort. The glare on my little brother’s face shows that he doesn’t seem to find it as funny as me. 

“Wait,” I look over to Elijah only to find it already looking at me, “You said whenever your mother brings your family together you have a dance… that crazy lady has been dead for 1,000 years.”

Elijah smirks at my observation, “A little white lie never hurt anyone.”

I roll my eyes, “Says the man who can’t die.”

Elijah squeezes my hand and without warning he twirls me. Being caught off guard I trip forward but thankfully Elijah pulls me back into him and I grab onto his chest.

“See, I told you I wouldn’t let you fall,” Elijah, who stands a breath away from me, smiles.

“I hate dancing,” I say exhausted.

Elijah looks over to the other couples for a moment and I do the same. 

Elena and Damon are three couples away, engaged in whatever drama is paining them today. Rebekah and Matt are next to them, and I can’t help but admit how pretty they would be as a couple. My eyes continued trailing over other couples randomly; I stop when my eyes catch the light blue of Caroline’s dress. 

Caroline stands holding onto Klaus as they twirl around. They appear to be in the middle of a conversation and for some reason, all I want right now is to know what the hell they could possibly be talking about. I’d also like to know why the hell he invited her. I didn’t understand him. The man who one day grips my thigh like it’s his life source and the next won’t even spare me a glance. 

I feel Elijah squeeze my hand and I instantly feel horrible for thinking about another man while in his arms. 

“What’s plaguing your thoughts, my love?”

The nickname has me choking on my saliva, only making Elijah smirk. 

“You’ve really got to pick one nickname and keep with it,” I say trying to act more annoyed than flustered. 

“I’ve waited for you for too long to have my feelings confined to just one word.”

All reservations I had are now off the table as I stare wide-eyed at the man in front of me. 

“Elijah…I,” I start but then a tightness in his lower jaw stops me.

“I’m sorry, Elskan. We have to change partners now. But, I promise we will continue this discussion,” Elijah says and with a pained look, he twirls me. 

I’m twirling until a strong hand on my lower back stops me, “Hello again, Darling.”

I raise an eyebrow at the youngest Mikaelson brother, “Hello, Kol.”

Kol seems to be delighted with my lack of enthusiasm as he swings me in his arms. Where Elijah kept a tight hold on me, Kol seems to have more enjoyment in flinging me around the dance floor. 

“So I’ve been thinking,” Kol says thoughtfully and I roll my eyes.

“Here we go.”

Kol rolls his own eyes at my comment but still continues, “So you need protecting, and I don’t want to end up with another dagger in my chest. So…we should team up.”

I frown at his words, “Who do I need protecting from? And why do you think I could stop you from getting daggered?”

Kol looks at me like I’m stupid, “Darling, please tell me you’re smarter than this.”

At my silence, Kol closes his eyes and sighs, “Bloody hell.”

Kol shakes his head, “Alright, you’re important to my brothers. This means their enemies are going to be coming after you; hence why you need protection. And to answer your other question…I’m willing to bet another one hundred years of my life daggered that if you were to bat those pretty y/e/c eyes at either one of my brothers they would move mountains to make you happy. So…”

At Kol’s expectant look, I nod in understanding, “If I tell them I don’t want you daggered…”

Kol nods happily, “Then I’ll stay handsome and perfectly unharmed.”

I consider about Kol’s words.

“You may have Elijah and Klaus’ protection,” Kol’s eyes go behind me to where Theo is dancing with Rebekah, “But your little brother doesn’t.”

I look at Theo who is currently talking a mile a minute with a smiling Rebekah. 

“Fine. You have a deal. You protect me, and more importantly, Theo, and I’ll back up. I don’t think Elijah or especially Klaus care enough to listen to me but I’ll try.”

Kol smirks devilishly but then frowns, “You’re joking right,” He must notice my confusion because he continues, “Bloody hell, you really don’t see how they look at you?”

I shake my head and Kol nudges his head to his left and I catch Elijah watching us with an intense look. I quickly look back to Kol and he raises an eyebrow.

“See?”

I shake my head, “Okay…maybe Elijah and I are friends…but Klaus doesn’t give a damn about me.”

Kol’s mouth drops open and I loud laugh escapes his throat, “Bloody hell, luv. You really are oblivious,” Kol shakes his head, “Let me just say this…I’ve never seen my bastard of a brother look at anyone the way he looks at you. It may not register in that thick skull of yours but it’s true. This whole world could be burning down and my brother would not let a single flame come near you,” Kol shrugs, “He probably was the one who started the fire but what I say still stands.”

I stare at the youngest brother with my mouth hung open and he laughs, “I’ve enjoyed trying to knock some sense into, Little Doll. We shall talk more about our deal later on… Good luck,” He smirks evilly, and without a moment for me to say anything back he thrusts me into another pair of strong arms. 

A strong masculine smell of something woodsy enters my nose and I breathe it in with a sigh. 

“I didn’t know if you were going to show,” That British voice that I know so well enters my ears and I let out a growl.

“Of course, it’s you,” I open my eyes to find myself in Klaus’ arms. 

Klaus gazes down at me and I shoot a glare at Kol who isn’t looking at me but has a smirk on his face, “That fucker.”

“Many people have the same reaction when it comes to my little brother,” Klaus says with a smirk and I just glare at him.

I turn away from him, look to my side, and watch the other couples dance around us. 

“Don’t ignore me,” Klaus’ rough voice calls to me and I turn to glare at him.

“I don’t care enough about you to even care about ignoring you. Let’s just get this stupid dance over with,” I bite and he glares back at me. 

“Fine with me,” He growls back.

“Good.”

“Good.”

We both huff and continue glaring at each other until his eyes fall down to my chest.

“Where is it?”

I glance down at my chest and shake my head at him annoyed, “Where the hell is what?”

“Your necklace,” He insists, “Where is it?”

I look down at my diamond necklace and then back up to him, “Are you blind? I’m wearing it.”

Klaus growls under his breath, “Not that one. The wolf one.”

I lean back in surprise momentarily, “Why do you care?”

“Because I want you to wear it,” He says as if it was obvious. 

“Why the fuck would you want me to…” I stop talking when the answer hits me like a truck. 

“It was…” I release my hands from his quickly and grasp my neck, “It was from you wasn’t it?”

Klaus tries taking a step towards me but with every step he takes I take one back. 

“Don’t come near me,” I shake my head and feel my breathing picking up. 

I quickly run through the couples dancing, not caring about messing up this stupid dance as I run through the doors and out into a low-lit garden. 

I run a hand through my hair taking out the little pins I had holding my hairstyles together and let my hair flow freely. I kick off my stupid heels and throw myself onto the grass, the cold ground calming my hot skin. 

I close my eyes letting out a deep breath and lay down, resting my head on the ground. I look above me to the bright moon overhead and the stairs that surround it. A wave of sadness washes through me as I look at it. I’d always related to the moon. Always felt like she and I were the same. Alone, even though they were surrounded by so many others. The brightly lit stars had each other, thousands of them to hold on to one another, but there was only one moon. Where the stars had their own light and color, the moon only shone because it had the sun shining on it. 

I close my eyes and let a small tear fall down my face. As I’m laying there I feel a warmth come next to me and place itself on the ground beside me. I don’t have to open my eyes to recognize who the owner of the woodsy scent is. 

“When I was a boy,” Klaus’ low voice fills my ears, “My father would beat me for never being the way he wanted. I could never hold a sword the right way, couldn’t hunt enough animals, I wasn’t man enough in his eyes. Even though I was surrounded by siblings, I never truly felt like one of them,” Klaus stops for a moment and I open my eyes to look at him. To my slight surprise, he was lying right beside me on the grass, his left arm lifted under his head and his eyes staring straight up at the sky, “The only time I felt like I belonged was when it was just myself and the moon. I’d spent most of my boyhood cowering, but…whenever I gazed up at the moon, I felt as though I was something greater. Better. It’s been over a thousand years and I still gaze up at her, remembering how that scared little boy held onto it like a lifeline.”

Klaus stops talking and we lay there together, staring up at the moon.

“I’ve been alone a long time,” I say softly and I can see him turn his head out of the corner of my eye, “When I was little, maybe 8 or 9 I’d cry to my mother asking her why none of the other kids wanted to be around me. She’d just tell me it was because I was too mature for them. I never really believed her though. When I was 10, my father started drinking,” I let out a sigh as the words came out of my mouth, “He’d get angry when he drank. He’d swear at me and my mother and do other stuff. He’d tell me that I deserved to be alone. That people like me…there’s something wrong with people like me. That went on for a few years before my father finally decided that starting a whole new family sounded like a better idea than being with his first one. He may have left but his words didn’t. My mother at first told me that what he was saying wasn’t true. That “hurt people, hurt people.” But as I got older and saw that everyone around me seemed to find their places with each other, and I couldn’t ever seem to fit in, I started to realize that maybe my…father… was right. It wasn’t up until about a year or so ago that I began to be one with the loneliness. Or at least I like to tell myself that. When Elena came around I saw it almost as a threat to myself. To what I was used to. Why, after 17 years did someone finally decide to see me? Having friends now makes me feel like a hungry dog. I got a taste of what it felt like to be fed, but it doesn’t seem to be good enough for me. That’s why it’s better for me to ruin anything that can have a hold on me…Even if it can take away that hunger.”

Klaus is silent for a moment and so am I.

“After I turned…the moon wasn’t the only thing that kept away the loneliness,” Klaus says and I turn my head to gaze at him and he turns him to gaze at me, “You were.”

I furrow my eyebrows, “What are you talking about?”

Klaus reaches a hand up and runs a finger along my face as if he’s memorizing every aspect of it.

“At first it was just glimpses. Colors. Almost like a memory that didn’t belong to me. But every night as I’d dream the images would get clearer. Until one night I was staring into the most exquisite y/e/c I’d ever seen. I didn’t know who they belonged to yet. But for the first time in my life, I felt seen. I’m a monster who has done monstrous things, but yet these eyes looked at me like none of that mattered. Like I had finally been accepted, monstrous bits and all. So every morning when I awoke I’d draw them. And every night I’d dream of them. It wasn’t for another 300 years that I would learn that the eyes belonged to the human part of my soul. And when I found that out, I was angry. Furious even. I hated the thought that the only way someone would ever look at me like I was deserving of being understood was if they were a direct result of me.”

Klaus stops and I can practically hear my heartbeat thumping. 

“So I burnt the pictures. Hid anything that reminded me of those eyes and hoped to never come across them for the rest of my eternity. And for 1,108 years I had accomplished that…until one Friday afternoon, in a tiny high school where I locked eyes with that y/e/c. And everything I’d work for became nothing. It was like I was seeing everything for the first time. I was once again that little boy running from himself begging for someone to save him. Because I knew the longer I looked into those y/e/c eyes, the sooner I was doomed.”

Klaus grabs my chin and makes me look into his eyes, “You, Y/n Y/l/n have doomed for me for an eternity,” His eyes search mine, “And no matter how much I try to fight it, fight you, I can’t help but spend every waking moment hoping for you. Hoping for my promised destruction.”

I stare wordlessly at the man in front of me. I keep opening my mouth and closing it but I can’t seem to find the right words. 

“I think I’m going to have a panic attack,” I sit upright quickly and clench my chest. I hear Klaus sit up next to me and clutch my shoulders.

“Y/n, just breathe,” He soothes and I think I am having a stroke because what the actual fuck is happening right now.

“I’m so confused.”

Klaus brushes my hair away from my face, “I know this must be hard for you. I didn’t plan on telling you like this…I actually didn’t plan on telling you at all. But when I saw that anger on your face,” he pauses, “Anger that was directed at me, for the first time in my life I felt sick. So I needed to tell you, that even if you may hate me…I could never hate you. And for as long as I live, you will never be alone again.”

I feel tears brim my eyes as I look over and up to him and shake my head, “If you feel this way then why did you invite Caroline? Clearly, you don’t feel the way you say,” I try to deny.

Klaus’s expression darkens, and he once again grabs my chin. “Do not for a moment try to tell me how I feel about you. The only reason I invited your blonde friend was because Elijah had already claimed you as his date. You can also ask your blonde friend, but the entire night all I did was ask her questions about you. I heard she can’t keep a secret for her life and so I picked her brain about you. If my older brother hadn’t gotten to you first…you would’ve been with me tonight.”

I try to process what he just said and I feel a panic attack come on, “I…I…but…I,” I continue shaking my head as I stand up and Klaus follows, “You and Elijah are just playing some sick joke on me right? As a way to get back at Elena? Mess with the mentally ill non-verbal best friend. Get her to hate herself for getting all flustered over two brothers! Fucking brothers!”

“I can assure you, Elskan. That is not the case,” I whip around to see Elijah walking down the steps into the garden. 

I rub a hand over my face and start walking around in a circle as the two brothers stand next to one another, watching. 

“I mean, come on! You guys have to see how crazy this is right? I mean what kind of whore gets feelings for brothers!”

Klaus and Elijah’s faces darkened and I hear Klaus release a low growl.

“Dont. Ever. Call yourself a whore,” Elijah takes a step forward and continues speaking with a deadly tone, “My brother has said his peace to you, and in due time I will as well. But don’t for a moment think that you should hate yourself for something that fate has put in front of you.”

I continue to stand there like a fish out of water, not knowing what the hell to say next. Thankfully, my saving grace comes in the form of a loud crashing sound coming from upstairs, capturing our attention. 

“Shouldn’t we go check that out,” I point up with a shaking hand. 

“Don’t for a second think that we won’t be discussing this further,” Elijah informs me and I have to fight back the weird feeling in my chest at his commanding tone. 

I nod and Elijah comes towards me and reaches out a hand for me to take. Klaus steps forward and does the same. I stare at both of their hands and swallow my doubts as I place a hand in each and let them guide me upstairs towards the front door where my friends and their siblings are standing. 

I quickly drop my hands from theirs as Elena turns towards me. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem she saw anything as she sends me a small smile. 

Damon stands above Kol’s dead body with an enraged look. 

“Fucking idiot,” I mutter.

“You’ve got that right,” My little brother says as he comes to stand next to me. 

Damon looks over all of us before landing his eyes on me, “Pukey, we’re leaving,” Damon’s tone is harsh but something in his eyes makes my heart tug.

“She is not going anywhere with you,” Elijah says with a dark voice that has everyone looking at him. 

I shake my head, “It’s ok,” I turn to Theo and hand him my *Stefan’s* car keys, “I’ll see you at home, okay?”

Theo looks at me like I’ve got two heads but still nods.

I look over to where Klaus and Elijah are practically seething and sigh.

“Let’s go, Freak,” I run over to Damon and grab his arm leading him away from everyone and out into the parking lot. 

As soon as we’re out of sight from everyone I see Damon’s shoulders instantly drop and I turn to glare at him.

“You’ve seriously got the worst survival instinct, of anyone I’ve ever met,” I say with a hand on his hip.

“I’m never going to be the one,” Damon lets out with a shaky sigh and I instantly drop my disappointed mother act. 

“What happened?”

I take a step closer to him and he shakes his head.

“Elena.”

I take a deep sigh and nod, “Of course.”

Damon lifts his head to look at me, “You look like how I feel,” He says trying to be sarcastic but I can hear the pain in his voice.

“I’ve had a rough night too, my friend. Movie night at yours,” I question as I wrap my arm around his, and his upper lip twitches.

“You called me your friend.”

I roll my eyes and let him lead me to his car, “Shut up.”

[psychotic-tbh]

This is an unfortunate reality of things at the moment.

I’ve found myself being dismissed by professionals who would not listen to my experience.

Personally I feel like that’s why it’s so important to have a support system, one that’ll help you to or encourage you to advocate for yourself!

Especially in the USA (I can’t speak for other countries) where bills for healthcare of all types can ruin someone for some time, especially without insurance/when insurance coverage requirements are not met.

Like, people don’t realise that it’s not feasible for all to simple seek a second opinion or go to a different clinic, especially if transportation is an issue.

I believe that while we have come a long way, the American mental health system is extremely flawed and there’s still so much bias and misinformation.

Like, I literally had a psychiatrist tell me that I “can’t know if [I] have [insert my schizospec diagnosis here] because those with schizophrenia can’t know that they have it!” Which, if you didn’t know, is not always true!

(There’s a large portion of the population with a psychotic disorder who are aware of their symptoms! Hell, I know several!)

So while ideally you would ask for a professional’s input and care, it’s not always an option for people! And it can be very dismissive when you get little to no support from loved ones because this is all they’ll offer as comfort (which can come across as very dismissive)

One thing (among many) that people need to keep in mind when they say things like "oh if you think you have a mental disorder, consult a professional" is that a lot of professionals will not consider evaluating and/or diagnosing you with something you bring up yourself. Especially the more uncommon/complex the disorder is. For things like MDD or GAD you likely won't have that problem, for things like OCD or ADHD they'll likely be suspicious but still comply somewhat, but for things like personality disorders or DID most professionals will completely brush you off and refuse to evaluate you. Because they think you're attention seeking and diagnosis shopping, and that you couldn't possibly have it, even if you haven't done anything to earn that suspicion.

For disorders like that, unless the professional themselves suspects you have it and comes up with that idea themselves, good luck getting evaluated at all. Especially when it comes to disorders most professionals don't even think they'll encounter, like SzPD or DID.

It'd be nice if we lived in a world where you could go see a psych, say "hey I think I have this", and they'd do a proper and fair evaluation for you the way a physical doctor would (moreso should but that's another can of worms).

It just isn't as simple as "ask a professional".

[0mg-bird]

Lover’s Rock~ S. Reid

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Spencer isn’t the only one that stands out in the crowd, but maybe that’s a good thing, because that’s what leads him to you.

Warnings: I didn’t really proof read, I’ll do it later lol. 18+ content towards the end. Um Reid is such a dweeb and adorable???? Fluff, mentions of alcohol and embarrassment. Reader is so twee (can we bring twee back or no?) idk she makes questionable fashion choices.

Really, this wasn’t your thing.

The bar scene, the club dresses all the girls where, the high heels and the whole game of cat and mouse that all the guys want to play. But you’re here, you made an effort to appease your best friends who claim you have no social life.

The entire night so far, they watched you strike out with the guys they motioned over because in their mind, you’re desperate and lonely and lame.

Okay, maybe that’s more of your headspace than theirs, but they’ve been offering you pity glances this whole time.

You’ve made a decision a while ago that maybe there was no romance out there for you. You were just born with some aspect that made normal, sane guys physically run away, and maybe that’s fine. You were really good on your own. And it never did feel right when you had a guy, if it didn’t feel like the movies, it wasn’t worth it.

Right?

Okay, maybe you should settle, at some point, you’ll be too old to marry and you’ll just keep working, with no real life and take care of Shelly, your goldfish. Maybe it won’t be perfect, but it’ll be someone to share things with.

You let out a huff and watch the ice melt in your drink, not bothering to smile when your friend tells you to brighten up.

Normally, you’re a ray of sunshine, but something about getting rejected four consecutive times is raining on your parade.

An entire bar full of happy people in their element, and it’s just you, sticking out like a sore thumb, especially when your friends go dance with a few guys they hit it off with.

Too busy looking at the buckle on the ankle strap of your heel, you are sinking somewhere in your mind, to a place where you aren’t listening to cheap song lyrics of and realizing that table is stickier than you thought.

“Where’s Reid?”

“Reid.”

“Spencer!” Penelope smacks his shoulder, pulling him from the trance of his eyes on the book pages.

He looks up from the corner booth, seeing his team has returned with drinks.

“Are you seriously reading right now?” Morgan criticizes, placing a beer in front of the younger agent.

Spencer doesn’t know why he does this, beer tastes like a plowed hay field in his opinion. But he takes the drink in gratitude and before he can explain that he was just trying to finish the Russian publishing of ‘Crime and Punishment’, Morgan rips the book from his hands and tosses it to Emily for safe keeping.

“I- what was that for?” Spencer questions with a unjust squeak, feeling rather sad.

“Look around, kid, do you see how many fine ladies are here? You don’t need to be sitting here with your nose between the pages of Little Women.” Morgan states as a matter of fact.

“Yeah, nobody puts baby in the corner.” Penelope agrees.

With an airy scoff, Spencer looks to the other members for help, but they all seem to side with Derek.

He gains a defeated frown.

Spencer didn’t want to be here in the first place, now he’s being forced out into the public to socialize. There has to be a law against this, he knows there’s not because he knows everything, but he is certainly going to try and create one.

“Oh come on, Spence, why don’t you try to get a date?” JJ asks, meaning well, but the laugh that comes from Emily makes him want to recoil.

“C’mon, I’ll help you.” Morgan offers, pulling him from the booth seat.

“Yeah, that never really works well when you try to be my wingman, you usually end up with all the phone numbers.” Spencer claims, pressing his lips into a line.

But like some mock savior, Morgan stands behind Reid as they wait by the bar.

“What about her?” Morgan would point out.

To which Reid would respond with some variation of ‘she’s too much’ or ‘she definitely has a boyfriend three times my size’.

After fifteen minutes of this back and forth, Morgan is seriously regretting he forced the hermit out of his shell.

And that’s when a rowdy group finally leaves and clears the path of vision to you.

Still sat at a high table with one leg crossed over the other, you wiggle your foot as you doodle on a drink napkin.

Reid misses whatever Morgan says, and in that air of silence, the agent follows the vision.

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Derek chuckles, clapping Reid on the shoulder. “She’s pretty. Go talk to her.”

“What?” Reid looks away. “No, no, I don’t want to disturb her.”

You let out a very bored sigh.

Derek’s brows furrow. “I know you’re some boy genius but you really are dumb sometimes. Everything about that girl is screaming ‘put me outa my misery’.”

Spencer tilts his head slightly, watching you rub your eye and then frown at the way you smudged your already smudged eye liner.

“Okay, maybe you’re right.” He nods. “But…what do I say?”

Derek grins. “Compliment her, ask if she wants another drink, strike up a conversation. It’s easy, man.”

Spencer gets an uneasy feeling in him, but he still braves through it. “Easy for you, maybe.” He mumbles before running a hand through his hair and takes a step towards you.

“Go get her, tiger!” Morgan encourages.

When he returns to the team with the happy news, Penelope asks if Spencer’s gonna do good.

“Oh, definitely not, we’ll be lucky if he doesn’t trip over his own feet on the way over there.” Derek answers, laughing.

But Spencer makes it to you without a stumble, yet his whole plan leaves his mind when he gets to you.

You’re gorgeous, too pretty for him.

“Nice legs.”

Did he just say that?

You look up at him upon hearing his voice, your wide eyes confused.

“I’m sorry?” You question, not sure if you heard this stranger correctly.

He’s a rather handsome stranger.

“No- I mean I like your legs- tights! Not your legs, you have nice legs of course but that’s not- your tights are nice- cool! Different?”

Oh god, he should just walk away now. He’s already messed this whole thing up and surely you think he’s an idiot.

While he’s got an embarrassed look on his face, you look down at the red lace tights you wear under your skirt, something your friends questioned as a fashion choice.

“You really like them?” You ask, voice soft to his ears.

He stops his rambling.

“Yeah, of course I do, I think they’re cool.” He smiles softly.

You can’t help but grin bashfully.

“Every guy I’ve talked to tonight thought they were a little weird, but that’s okay, I kinda like weird.” You admit, watching as he shakes his head.

“People say my socks are weird all the time, don’t feel bad.” He comforts, pulling the material of his pants up so you can see his mismatched socks with funky colors and prints on them.

“Those are cool.” Your approval eases him, giving him just enough reassurance that you aren’t going to scream for help in the next two minutes.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid- sorry, force of habit, uh, just Spencer. I-I’m Spencer.” He introduces with the smallest of wave.

Still smiling more than you have the entire night, you greet him. He repeats your name like it has some special meaning, and you’ve never loved the sound of it more.

“I was going to get a drink, what are you having?” He asks, looking at your sweating glass. “Vodka soda? Cherry sour?”

You blush. “It’s actually a shirley temple…I just ate all the cherries out of it already.”

Without hesitation, he nods. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

He leaves you at your table, and then your brief moment of sunshine is clouded once more by doubt. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he drugs your drink and then you wake up in an alley somewhere, missing your wallet and phone and your tights that he thinks are so cool?

This was a bad idea. Dating isn’t for you. He seemed so nice and he’s so attractive but that should have been your first red flag and-

Oh. He’s coming back.

With two shirley temples.

He places them on the table and waits for you to grab one, then he grabs the other and takes a sip.

“You mind if I sit?” He asks.

Feeling a little silly for assuming he was out to maim you, you nod.

“I seriously doubt my friends remember I’m over here, so feel free to stay.” You joke at your expense.

He sits across from you, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his team who make it very obvious that they’re staring.

You study his profile, a shaggy haircut that falls across his forehead, all tousled in an effortless way. His jaw line is defined, round brown eyes that flick back to you. When he catches you looking, he grins once more.

It’s never been so…easy, having a ‘get to know you’ conversation. Questions come without second thoughts, you find yourself laughing, actually laughing.

Playing with your straw, you try to calm your facial expressions, your cheeks are starting to hurt from beaming so much.

“So, Dr. Reid, huh?” You ask, making him let out a small huff of embarrassment.

“That’s what the PhD’s say, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling really dorky about his immense amount of education.

It’s not dorky to you. Every guy you’ve talked to tonight dropped out of community college because ‘it didn’t align with their career paths’ of selling protein smoothies or working in some ‘underground’ record store.

But here Spencer is, explaining he’s on the behavioral analysis unit for the FBI and he tells you about all the degrees he has. All you can think about as he talks of universities and the academy is, knowledge is such a sexy look on a guy. Sure, you’ve never really liked the underachieving stoners, but usually you’ve been with guys who seem to say “you like school?” when you talk about working towards your Masters degree.

“Wow.” Is all you can say for a moment, clearly shocked and, well, impressed. “I really wasn’t expecting that.”

“That’s what most people say.” He nods, picking the cherry in his drink out by the stem and offering it to you.

By your thankful eyes batting up at him, he’s tempted on going behind the bar and bringing you all the maraschino cherries they have. He quickly turns the conversation around to focus on you so he can focus on something other than the stained color on your lips.

“What about you? What do you do?” He asks.

Compared to his job, yours seems too normal, too mundane. You almost want to avoid the question, never once have you been unsatisfied with your career but now you can’t help it. What if Spencer doesn’t like you because you don’t work for NASA?

That’s ridiculous, because to Spencer, your job makes his adoration grow.

“Oh, I’m just a teacher.” You say, fiddling with a stem in your mouth.

Spencer gains a soft smile. “You could never just be a teacher, teacher’s are important. Well, unless you’re a sucky teacher.”

His joke earns a bubbly giggle and he decides he’d like to hear that sound forever. It’s moments like this that he’s glad to have an eidetic memory.

“I don’t think I’m a sucky teacher so that’s good, my students seem to like me.” You state, pushing your hair behind your ear and dropping the knotted stem onto a napkin.

Spencer finds himself leaning a little closer, body naturally gravitating to your pull. “What do you teach?” He asks.

“I work for my schools gifted children program, so I basically teach kid geniuses advanced core curriculum because they’ve tested out of their normal classes.” You chuckle, oblivious to the way Spencer’s heart warms.

He remains quiet for a bit too long, just staring at you with an honest look, one that makes you feel like you’re turned inside out and bared for him. The panic rises again, you think you must have said something to ruin it.

“I know it’s nothing special-” You begin to say.

“No.” He interrupts, a sure tone. “I-I think it’s great. Really, that’s not an easy job.”

Deep breath out, you’re put at ease.

“I constantly have imposter syndrome, these kids are twelve and bringing up philosophies and mathematical formulas I have to go home and study because I haven’t even learned them yet. Honestly, sometimes I don’t even think they need me there.” You joke lightly, half meaning it but masking that slight insecurity by finishing off your drink.

“They need you.” Spencer assures, an expression showing he’s never been more sure of something. “Believe me, you’re probably the only person they see in a school day that understands them.”

Brows creased, you shake your head, holding his rather intimidating gaze for such puppy dog eyes.

“What makes you so sure?” You question.

Spencer takes in a breath. “Because I know what it’s like to be twelve years old and telling a grown adult about Fermat’s Last Theorem.”

Sometimes, the world has a funny way of putting two people together. For years, you’ve wandered through life and on a random Friday night, feeling a little flushed from the Summer air, here is Spencer Reid, the man of your dreams.

Your friends left some time ago after you assured them you were fine to be left at the place you were just complaining about being. You don’t mind being left with Spencer, in fact, you’re dreading the time you have to go home because it means this moment is over.

“I really would like to live in New York.” You exclaim, somehow have fallen into the rabbit hole of dreams for the future.

“New York’s really cool!” He agrees. “Did you know that they have a homicide rate of 4.48 percent right now? It’s been declining since the nineties.”

You must make some sort of surprised face because his eyes go wide and he quickly tried to recover his odd statement.

“Sorry, my job isn’t really full of happy statistics. But mostly we just find dead prostitutes in alleys in New York.”

His blushed cheeks make your heart flutter in its beats.

“I’m glad I’m not a prostitute.” You giggle, making him chew his bottom lip for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re not either.”

By the time the team gets their coats back on with the intention of heading home, they look across the room to see their quirky doctor friend is partaking in very friendly body language.

“Oh my god, look at him.” Emily laughs. “He’s finally using that big IQ of his.”

Penelope, who comes to hold onto Morgan’s arm, grins rather proudly. “It’s like a butterfly finally coming out of its cocoon. It’s…beautiful, actually.”

Derek laughs down at her. “I think that last long island ice tea was a bad idea. Come on, baby, let’s get you home.”

“Good luck, my fine friend.” She calls in the general direction of you and Spencer, but the two of you don’t notice.

JJ ties her hair up and starts to take a few steps forward.

“Where are you going?” Penelope questions.

“To let him know we’re leaving?”

“No!” The team seems to exclaim, all shouting that she cannot disturb the moment Spencer worked rather hard to get to.

She just holds her hands up in defense, then follows after Emily as they leave the bar.

Spencer of course notices the way Prentiss leaves him with an encouraging thumbs up. It makes his get a little bashful, but he nods a goodbye and watches the door shut once more. His attention is brought back to his hand on the table, well, more to the way your pinky brushes against his. You continue to talk about mutual interests and what your apartment in New York would look like, a slight ramble to you that shows you’re very aware of the slight contact.

With some kind of placebo courage he can’t even blame on alcohol, he lets his fingers crawl between yours like that’s where they belong.

The team would definitely laugh at this teenage display, but to the both of you, it’s the perfect amount of reassurance, soft enough to not be too scary.

The attraction is there, Spencer forces himself to profile it just so his negative thoughts can’t prove him wrong. You’re smiling at every word, your eyes seem to stay dilated and focused on his, and he isn’t sure if you even realize the way your heel brushes his ankle every so often.

His profile, often never wrong, is what helps him reach across the slight space to tuck your hair behind your ear so casually as he tells you about his minuscule music taste.

After a few flirty comments, you force yourself yo look away from him just so you can het your breathing under control. Upon this action, you read the watch on his wrist and a frown sets on your lipstick stained lips.

“I should go home before it’s too late to walk.” You sigh, not wanting this moment to end.

He nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Those round eyes he’s starting to really adore look up at him and you chew your lip, almost like you’re waiting for him to do something. Say something.

It takes him entirely too long to figure out what to do. Morgan would be ashamed.

“C-Can I walk you home?” He asks in a rush and in eagerness.

You nod like that’s the best idea you’ve ever heard.

That’s how it leads to you leaning against him like it’s something you do often, walking in step as you ramble on and on about what you have to do to get your classroom ready for the new school year. He listens without annoyance like most guys would, then tells you about books he has that he thinks you might enjoy, books he could part with so you could give them to the students whose reading levels are above what the school provides.

He’s so caring and considerate, making sure he walks closest to the street, lets you be off in your own world and makes sure you don’t run into anything as you constantly gaze up at him. All the way to your building and up the stairs to your apartment door, the two of you are as comfortable with each other like two old friends would be.

That’s what makes your head spin. You just met Spencer and already feel like he’s been in your life for hundreds of years.

You pull your keys from your purse, you unlock the door but don’t make a move to open it.

“I’m really, really, happy that I met you.” You whisper to him as he slightly crowds your space in the door way.

“I am too.” He agrees, heart beating a little faster as your hand presses gently to his chest.

Don’t be crazy, you just met her, she doesn’t want a stranger trying to kiss her, tell her good night, call her tomorrow, maybe you can plan for something next weekend-

His thoughts don’t stand a chance when you wrap your fingers around his tie and gently tug him to your lips.

It’s smooth and warm and has your eyes shutting and your lungs exhaling. His gentle hand cradles your face while the other flexes against your hip.

It just feels so…

So right.

With the slight tilt of your head, the goodnight kiss deepens, you’re molded against him.

His lips part, coaxing yours to do the same, and the feeling of your tongue against his has you slightly teetering backwards. You lean against the door for support, hands roaming into his hair.

You’ve been wanting to run your hands through it all night.

He’s desperate in his movements, like he’s a starved man and you’re enjoying every second of it. His thumb runs over your jaw, you’re pushing away any space between you.

When you decide you’re going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, you pull away, sucking your bottom lip to savor the taste. Spencer still holds your face in his large hands and matches your shallow pants.

It’s all so much. You’re hot, brain a little foggy, but still so sure of this situation.

And you soon find yourself saying something you’ve never ever said after just meeting a guy.

“Do you want to come inside?”

Spencer seriously thinks he misheard you.

“Yeah- yes. Yes, I do.” He nods.

A laugh escapes your lips, one he swallows up as he embraces you once more, trying to help you open the door. His arm around your waist makes sure you don’t stumble and fall as the two of you finally get inside.

He looks around the space. “I like your apartment, it’s nice.”

“Thank you.” You mumble against his lips, pulling at your jean jacket and tossing it to the couch.

It’s dark, causing you to back into a side table. The both of you laugh, but neither of you bother to reach for the light switch.

You guid him towards your bedroom, pushing him through the ajar door. The open window leaves the room painted in a low light, the breeze is cool as you clumsily fall onto the mattress with him.

“I never do this.” You state, a huff leaving your lips as he rolls you onto your back.

“I don’t either.” He agrees, mouth wandering down your jaw to your neck.

You fiddling hands make a home in his hair. “Like I really don’t do this. I don’t even go to bars, let alone take home strange men- not that you’re strange. But don’t think I am a casual hookup girl, because I’m not, I just- there’s a connection, right? I’m not alone in this?”

He pulls away, looking down at you with a loopy grin. “You’re rambling, that’s a sign of nervousness.”

“I am nervous!” You exclaim with a breathy laugh. “You’re just…you’re really great.”

His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You’re really great too.” He whispers. “But we don’t have to do anything.”

“No!” You say a little too boldly. “I mean, no, no I want this. Do you want this?”

With a nod, he assures you. “I want this too.”

Maybe you should be more shy and self conscious about this, but when he’s being so kind, all your nervousness leaves. The two of you stumble through the awkward bits with laughter and jokes, and it makes you realize that something so serious doesn’t have to be so uniform.

Really, you’re having more fun than you’ve ever had.

“Spencer?” You gasp, dangerously close to falling off the bed at how the two of you have rolled around.

“Yeah?” He asks, head buried in your neck, trying not to get too ahead of himself as he continues his deep pace between your legs.

“You’re kinda pulling my hair.”

Immediately he moves his hand, apologetic.

Hands dragging up his chest, you try to shimmy away from the mattress ledge. Spencer notices the tragedy that’s about to strike, opting to back off of you completely so you can readjust.

You gasp at the loss of contact. “A little warning next time would be appreciated.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He stammers, gripping you in a feverish way, mouth back to yours.

You don’t exactly know how you ended up on top, but you look at him slightly frightened eyes.

“Is this a no?” He questions, only concerned with making you comfortable.

He’s the complete opposite of selfish, he proved that the second he started you off with his tongue against your core.

“No, not if you like this? I just…I don’t know if I’m good at this.”

He nods in understanding. “Okay, no problem.”

You protest as he goes to move you. “Can I try? Will-will you help me?”

God, he could marry you.

“Yeah, of course sweetheart.” He whispers, kissing you gently.

The butterflies in your stomach are all twitter pated.

Or maybe you’re just extremely turned on.

Spencer is a great teacher, it’s you who jumps the gun at things.

“There you go, angel, slow.” He breathes in your ear, finger tips pressing into your hips as you slowly push down, letting his tip enter you. “Just go really slow, okay?”

You try to do as he says, easing him into you slowly, but by some urge to rush satisfaction, you sink all the way onto him without warning.

“Fuck! That wasn’t slow.” He grits, a hoarse moan escaping from the back of his throat, his grip on you almost bruising.

“S-sorry.” You try to say, but the sheer pressure you feel at this sudden angle has you shuddering and crying out softly. “I’m an overachiever.” You try to joke.

“Holy shit, you want an A+ or something?” He chuckles, trying to calm himself down, running through mathematical formulas in his head so he doesn’t finish just like this.

“Spence, I need- it’s a lot, I need-” You whine out, not having the heart to feel embarrassed for sounding so needy.

“I know, I know. Fuck, do you have any idea how good you feel?” He questions, swallowing hard as he guides your hips forward slightly.

“I can’t really think at all when you’re sitting in my cervix right now.” You claim, quickly overwhelmed by pleasure as you find a rhythm against him.

Sucking on your throat, he mutters something you don’t care to listen to.

“This is- is it supposed to be this good?” You moan, trying not to dig your finger nails into his shoulders.

“I think we just fit perfectly.”

With each movement, you become more comfortable and confident, soon that friendly softness is replaced by lustful roughness. Through it all, Spencer remains caring, even when you tell him he can be a little rough with you.

Never in your sex life have you wanted more and more, even when it finishes.

Even after the two of you can’t find the strength to pull any more orgasms from each other, you lay beside each other, Spencer hasn’t bothered to pull out of you yet, perhaps he’s too spent.

“So.” You clear your throat, tracing his features. “How do you want to play this?”

He hums, dragging his fingers up and down your side. “What do you mean?”

“Guys usually leave after this stuff, right?”

His brows furrow, anxiety comes to ripple through him. “Do you want me to leave?”

Staring at his tired eyes, you shake your head. “No, I want you to stay. Forever. I’m thinking about chaining you to the headboard.”

He chuckles. “I’ll save you the effort, I will gladly stay.”

A sweet smile is returned to him.

At some point, the two of you clean up and fall asleep the second the sheets are pulled over you.

Spencer is convinced it’s all a dream until he wakes up to the sun warm over his skin. He rubs his blurry eyes and rolls over in the bed that is not his, met with your bare back. Slowly, he reaches for you, kissing your shoulder to rouse you.

His phone, still in the pocket of his discarded pants, rings again and again, forcing him to retrieve it in his boxers.

Of course it’s Hotch.

Of course he needs to get to the office. On a Saturday. After the night he just had.

“I should call the authorities, there’s a cute intruder in my room.” Your sleepy voice says from bed. “Oh wait…you are the authorities.”

He likes the way you can make yourself giggle.

“I have bad news.” He says, tracking down his clothes. “My boss just called me in.”

He hates the frown you have.

“That’s a very unfortunate thing.” You nod.

He buttons his pants, then slides his shirt on as he comes to your bedside.

“I should get going so I can go home and change.”

His warm hand presses to your cheek.

You turn to kiss his palm. “Is this goodbye?”

“No. Definitely no.” He assures. “I’ll call when I can, okay? Maybe we can get dinner or something?”

You could sigh heavenly at the way he’s just so dreamy.

“That sounds nice. I’d kiss you but I might have morning breath.” You smile.

He kisses you anyway.

And after leaving the team waiting in the round table room, he appears refreshed and in a very good mood.

He takes his seat, all eyes on him.

“Sorry I’m late, good morning.” He clears his throat.

“Good morning indeed.” Morgan chuckles, sliding him a cup of coffee.

“You okay, Reid?” Rossi asks, eyeing the agent.

“I’m great.” He smiles.

“Is that a hickey?” JJ exclaims, reveling in the way he quickly grabs for his neck, only to realize she’s joking.

“Real mature.” He mutters, knowing the entire day is going to be jokes made at his expense.

He doesn’t mind though, not when he knows his reward for all of this is you.

[salemlunaa]

☀︎ YOU’RE NOT BEING PRODUCTIVE, YOU’RE LAZY AND AFRAID ☀︎

And this will cost you a lot of time that could be spent with your desires…

You have all the information, why aren’t you applying. You tell me you have been in this community for 6 months, a year, 2 years+, but how many of those days you’ve spent in this community have you actually applied, how many of those nights did you actually apply and don’t just fall asleep after 5 seconds.

And i know why you’re lazy, it’s because you’re scared, you’re scared of inducing process, whether it be success or failure. You make yourself busy with scripts and subliminals, “i’ll script this really cool thing first”, “i’ll scroll a little on tumblr first” “lemme just look at the success story hashtag before i do it, it really motivates me” You try and distract your self, you delude yourself into thinking you’re being productive but really you don’t want to, if you wanted to you wouldn’t be here and I will ALWAYS stand by that. You put it off until the last minute and then when it “doesn’t work” you run back to tumblr acting like you actually did anything.

a really good analogy from @archsariel333 - “you buy the pens, the notebook, you plan for the book you’re going to write but, you never write it”

“let me just add this one thing to the plan”, “let me look at inspo for book covers and art styles for illustration”, “let me go to my book writers group on tumblr and see if they have anymore advice for me even tho i know how to write a fucking book”

I know it’s comforting and validating to be in the “waiting period”, the period of anticipation. You want to go shopping for a vacation, pack your suitcase, look at reviews on social media, plan the pics you’re going to take, but getting on the actual plane can be scary, you ask yourself “what if they deny my boarding pass”, “what if i fail to make it on time”, “what if im not eligible to fly for whatever reason”, you don’t want to leave your comforting circumstances and even the trip itself scares you just a little, so you cope by buying all the vacation outfits in the world, saving inspo pics into a pinterest board, looking at vlogs of other people going to that place. You can’t bring yourself to get on the fucking plane.

You need to apply, and properly, 2024 is almost over, the amount of weeks we have left isn’t even in the double digits anymore, I don’t want you to make it to the end of this DECADE still keeping the tumblr “foryou” page company, watching people coming and going feeling paralysed as people who came here later than you pass you by. I know the feeling sucks but whose fault is that?

I want you to scrap the amount you’ve been here. Since you’re the operant power right? I don’t care how many weeks, months, years you’ve been here, scrap it, you’re going to start afresh and you’re going to actually apply, when you have the time, you’re not going to go back to your notes app, notion or pinterest to script some more, you’re going to apply.

A lot of you have the knowledge that majority of the world doesn’t and time on your hands, do you know how powerful extremely fortunate you are, to have time AND knowledge? i don’t think alot of you understand how much of a privilege that is you are unstoppable yet you stop yourself out of fear that you will “fail” to tap into the void and let yourself down. You are so privileged to know what you know and to have the time to apply it, so do it, your not gonna scroll on tiktok for a few more minutes or shove a million subliminals down your throat to “prep yourself” you’re just going to take a breath and do it. Induce pure consciousness, and if you fall asleep scrap that assumption and do it again.

Look at your life right now, do you honestly like it, do you like envying others for having what you can have at the snap of the fingers. Do you like the life you are living?

I want you to tell yourself that you will not be the reason for your own demise. you will NOT be the reason that it’s 2026,27,28 and so on and you don’t have what you want.

please just go and apply, i don’t even know you guys and it hurts watching you kill time when you could’ve had everything a day ago, an hour ago heck even 5 minutes ago.

apply apply apply, don’t let this feeling be the reason you “fail” 💋🍑

[itsa-me-lily]

I have a brain worm that is very indulgent and self inserty

Please note I get my COD knowledge from here and AO3 and no I don’t want to change that lol

Please note note that upon thinking about it there’s a bit of influence from @bi-writes mail order bride

Anyway imagine that the military creates this program to boost moral for soldiers who don’t have families, by essentially hiring people to become their spouse! Does it have flaws and leaves a huge window for exploitation and abuse, it’s the military are we surprised? But we’re not gonna talk about that…

So there’s this program and Laswell and/or Price are like Simon we are worried about how fucking alone you are when you’re not deployed you’re enrolling in this so help us god. Either you’re picking someone or we’re picking for you. And I can’t decide if Simon just picks someone at random without looking at the files or he picks you because you seem like least needy and intrusive. The list of hobbies you have takes up nearly half a page, you have to be too busy to bother him.

Either way, you’re the one that’s picked to be the new Mrs. Riley, much to your surprise. (You were only doing this as moral support for your friend who didn’t want to sign up alone. You didn’t think you’d be picked.) Cut to the day you’re moving into the programs cookie cutter house and you’re glaring at Simon because how dare he imply your guinea pigs are anything less than perfect and angelic, and Simon is just wondering why he has to live with these fucking weird looking rats now

Edit;

I'm adding some more to this idea so I've made a list! I can be good at lists...Also should I add a continue reading cut to these?

[finallyaplaceformyrobots]

My favorite thing about former dock worker Optimus Prime with megatron who doesn’t know is that you can get an interaction like this:

Optimus: “I was a dock worker before all this, I miss being treated normally”

Megatron: “A-you were a dock worker? How?!”

OP: “Yes, I was. It was the class I was built into”

Meg: “…What!!??”

OP: “Why do you think I was called ‘The People’s Prime’?”

Meg: “I don’t know! I thought it was some ridiculous title to earn your favor with the lower castes! How did you even get the matrix then?”

OP: “Alpha Trion thought it a good idea to take the matrix on a stroll through the docks, primus knows why. One minute I’m moving crates, the next the matrix is flying at me like a holy scraplet”

Meg: “……….”

OP: “3rd wildest work shift ever”

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - pt II

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc (Valerie) (i know first part is x reader... i'm sorry for changing to an oc but it makes more sense in a multipart series)

playlist, part I

DISCLAIMER!: this is fanfiction (note the word FICTION), this is not a true depiction of what i think paige is like, this is purely fiction for entertainment purposes

Warnings: toxic!paige, language, some sexual thoughts but no smut in this one (sorry guys), paige is an asshole fr

Wordcount: 4.9k (sorry)

A/N: i got so much love and so many people asking for more after the first part <3 ty all i'm so grateful! this will likely be around 7 parts so please buckle up lol. ALSO I'M SORRY FOR NO SMUT but let me cook guys it'll get good. the point of this part is to get inside paige's head and understand why she is the way she is, things will speed up in the next part i swear. OK GO READ ILYSM MWAH

-

It’s hard being Paige Bueckers. Not every 23-year-old had to deal with the kind of pressure I did. Most of the time it felt like the whole world was watching me, waiting for me to fail. It used to bother the shit out of me but after all the injuries, everything I’ve been through, I thrived on it. I knew I would prove them wrong - prove that I’m great, that I’m me. Just like my dad would tell me, over and over again. I knew I was great, so greatness was expected. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t come with a great deal of pressure. I always said pressure is a privilege. But sometimes when I lay in bed alone after a game, even a win, the pressure consumed me. I didn’t like to be alone. So I went around different girls’ beds, like they meant nothing. Because they didn’t - they were just a distraction from my own mind. Like I said, it’s hard being Paige Bueckers - hard being me.

“You okay babe?”

I’m shaken out of my thoughts, returning back to earth, back to the small bed I was lying in. The brunette next to me nuzzles her nose into my arm, watching me with that look I knew too well. Like she wanted something from me. I hated when girls looked at me like that.

I clear my throat, trying not to flinch as she wraps her arm around me. “Yeah Zoe, ‘m fine,” I murmur, letting her press herself to my side, her body sticky from our prior activities. Zoe was a cuddler, so she was usually last on my roster. It’s hard to plan your escape when a girl clings to you like a koala and worst of all, wants to sleep like that all night. I never got that, cuddling while sleeping. It gets hot, sweaty and cramped, I find it hard to believe anyone actually enjoys it. People just think they do because they’re in love or something. And I can’t afford to be in love. I had a natty to win.

Zoe’s slender finger brushes through my blonde hair and I can feel that claustrophobic, uncomfortable tightness inside me. Like I had to get out. Her dorm was dim and the air was heavy and slightly humid from the second round I had insisted on. The sheets stuck to my skin uncomfortably and her bed made this annoying sound everytime I moved or even breathed.

I turn my gaze to Zoe who’s looking at me, all googly eyed. Oh God. She smiles wide and presses a kiss to my cheek. The scent of her shampoo lingers in the air, the smell of banana and some kind of citrus. I had never liked banana scented things.

“Uh, anyway that was fun,” I mumble, and sit up on the bed, forcing her off me as gently as I could. “But I got practice early,” I add, reaching for my t-shirt and throwing it on.

I don’t notice the offended look on Zoe’s face. I grab my phone from the floor, checking my texts urgently.

Yo you tryna do a lil sum tonight?

I know ur not workin sooo we could have a lil fun like we did the other day

Valerie?

I sigh, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten as I stare at the read receipt underneath the texts. I tap on the back of my phone case impatiently, wondering if sending a fourth text would make me pathetic. Maybe I should just call her? Nah, I must be trippin.

Since I met her at Ted’s, Valerie was the first I called when being in my bed alone was tearing up my mind. But it didn’t mean anything, she was good in bed, good at making me forget who I was when I needed to. Also, I liked how she smelled, like coconut. And when she tangled her legs with mine I didn’t shutter or pull away. Sometimes I even wrapped my arm around her, pulling her into me. Not because I needed her. But because her body felt good against mine.

“Aw baby really?” Zoe whines in an overtly soft voice, wrapping the blanket around her as she scoots up on the bed. Her plump bottom lip, swollen from the rough kissing earlier turns into a pout. I quickly avoid her gaze, my eyes landing right onto the floor looking for my pants. “I wanted to cuddle.” Figures.

“I know baby, me too,” a lie, she would never know that though. “Can’t keep my hands off you if I stay tho and I need some sleep.” I lie more, never looking at her. She buys it though, like she does every time. It’s not like I liked to lie, but I also didn’t like disappointing people. Especially girls that looked at me like that. It would kill her to know I texted three girls after Valerie didn’t answer, and the only reason I was here was because Zoe was the fastest to reply..

I leave Zoe like that, naked in bed, pleading with her eyes. Sometimes I felt bad, because I could tell she really liked me. But then I remembered how hard it is to be Paige Bueckers, and I didn’t feel so bad. My job was to be great on the court. Everything else was just background noise.

-

I sit by the court, my chest heaving, throwing my head back to down some water. The squeaking of sneakers echo all around me, blending in with the sound of Geno’s voice screaming at some of the girls working on plays. Coach had been killing us today, not happy with how the last game had went. We had still won, but that was merely a reason to celebrate in his eyes. 

All day I’d been missing shots that should’ve been child’s play for me. I couldn’t help but beat myself up. I was distracted, unfocused. I had been killing myself on the court, hoping it would bring me to my senses. Geno had been the one to tap me on the shoulder and force me to take a break I wipe the sweat off my face into the inside of my shirt, and grab my phone.

Bro are u alive?

I’m gettin worried lowkey

i’m fine paige

Five days. For five days Valerie hadn’t texted me back anything but that. I clench my jaw in frustration, shaking my head to myself. It made no sense to me - yeah we had a falling out but that’s what we did. We bickered and then we kissed and made up, and that’s what we had been doing for months so why was she acting like this now? Well… maybe calling her a psycho bitch last week hadn’t been the best move on my part.

I don’t know why the things she did bothered me so much. When she didn’t laugh at my joke, when she didn’t answer my texts. I don’t know why I felt a constant nervousness swirl inside me when she was mad at me, I had no reason to care. I guess the pussy was just that good, it was tricking me into thinking I did.

“Va-le-r- oh that’s the girl from Ted’s!” KK slams her hands on my shoulders, coming up from behind me, peeping at my phone screen. In a panic, I lock my phone, hiding it from her view.

“Bro, you heard of privacy?” I complain, shoving her playfully as she sits next to me on the ground. KK snickers, her nose scrunching a little as she does. 

“Not since you started peeing with the door open,” the shorter girl next to me argues and I scoff loudly, my mouth wide open.

“One time! And I was drunk!!” I groan, my voice rising a little and eyes going wide. CD quickly turns around and shushes us, shaking her head. Me and KK quickly shut our mouths, my cheeks turning a little red from the scolding.

KK looks at me with raised brows, and then at the phone, and then at me again. Most of the team knew how I kept myself busy when I wasn’t training, but KK was the one who had joined me those countless times at Ted’s and sat with me at the corner table as I watched her. Valerie. There was something so intriguing about her I just had to keep coming back. I always thought once I’d get her to my bed and have my way with her, I’d be done with her, which is how it usually goes. Before I realised that one time turned into five, which turned into me being in her bed getting her right, not even caring about my own most of the time. Getting her off got me off. Just thinking about the way she looked when she came, the way her back arched, her perfect mouth fell open - I really had to stop thinking about her. Why was it so goddamn hard?

It won’t be hard to find another Valerie if she’s gonna keep this difficult act up.

“Girl trouble?” KK asks, her tone more genuine and I roll my eyes, looking at her sideways.

“Yea right,” I chuckle sarcastically, leaning my elbows to my knees. “Just need to find a new one is all.”

KK lets out a small laugh, sipping her water bottle. “The five you got not enough?” She jokes.

I smirk a little glancing at her. “Four,” I correct, as if that made it better somehow. “Just need someone… new,” I mumble, knowing it was the best bet to get my mind off Valerie. I’m sure eventually I’d find someone who was just as hot. Someone who also smelled like coconut.

“Then what do I say to Zoe.”

“Wh- Zoe?” 

KK nods and grins at me. “She texted me asking about your shoe size or sum, wanted to get a gift for you.”

“She- she what?” My voice is full of shock and I can feel the claustrophobic tightness quickly grow inside me. I had never given her KK’s number. She was doing too much. KK just nods, clearly finding the situation amusing.

“Bro…” I groan quietly, as to not piss off CD again, and lean my head forward, resting my forehead against my arms. Zoe clearly hadn’t understood what “just fucking around” meant. Sometimes shit slipped out of my mouth, sure, but I never let her think I liked her. I had to be careful with her.

KK kisses the her teeth and is still nodding. “Yeah… probably time to let her go huh?”

“That bitch is crazy I swear,” I murmur and KK laughs out loud again. I punch her arm, reminding her to keep quiet - an impossible task for KK. Before I can stop myself, the words just slip from my mouth.

“Ted’s tonight?” 

KK looks at me pointedly. “Valerie workin’?” she teases but I shake my head sternly.

“No man, fuck Valerie.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth. “Just need to find a new one, k?”

“You sure you’re not just gon’ ogle at her all ni-”

“KK.” I say sternly

KK nods. “Ok,” she repeats but I can tell from her tone she doesn’t buy it. She shuts up though knowing she could tease me about anything but anything about Valerie got under my skin. Truth was Valerie was working today. I just needed to see her just for a second. Just to know if I was overthinking it, or if she was really icing me out.

-

The Friday night had brought many other students to Ted’s as well, the bar pretty packed and the chatter loud over the music. KK had convinced Ice to join us so the three of us made our way in. The best thing about crowds was it made it easy to blend in, even for us. We push our way through to the bar, my eyes immediately searching for a glimpse of Valerie’s golden brown hair or her wide eyes. All I needed was to see her, I told myself. Even for a second. Then the twist in my stomach would straighten out.

“What can I get you?” The perky voice of the redhead asks over the buzzing crowd. I think her name was Natalie or something. Ice looks over the flyers on the bar, advertising a range of new drinks.

“Let’s try some of these,” Ice suggests and I grab the flyer from her hand. I didn’t really come here to drink so I couldn’t have cared less what we ordered. Especially now I realised Valerie wasn’t even here.

“Uhh yea can we get three Aperol Negronis,”

“You won’t like it,” a stern, but sweet voice interrupts the conversation. I’d recognise that voice anywhere.

Valerie steps out from the back, pinning her hair away from her face and for a moment our gazes meet. Her dark, wide eyes make me let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. For a moment I want to jump over the bar and touch her, to make sure she was really there and not just a mirage of my desires.

“W-why not?” I ask, my voice uncharacteristically shaky. Only with her I got like that. Suddenly my throat felt dry and the nervous twist in my stomach was turning into something you could only call butterflies. Of course I knew it couldn’t be butterflies, because that would mean I cared. I couldn’t afford to care. I didn’t have the time for distractions. I had a national championship to win.

Valerie scoffs looking away from me, ignoring me as I chase her gaze. “Because I know you won’t,” she says. The way she thought she knew me that well irked me. Still, I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t beaming at the fact that I had her attention after a week of trying to chase her down.

I can’t help the pout that forms in defiance. She’s still ignoring me, pouring drinks for a group of boys clearly ogling at her - which only irked me more.

“Well… I want three of them,” I say matter of factly, trying to prove a point.

“Whoa Paige, maybe we should just get a shirl-” Ice chuckles but I shake my head.

“Three Aperol Negronis,” I dictate. Valerie’s stern eyes finally look at me. She looks almost a little scary, not pleased with my tone. “... please.” I add urgently, not wanting to get on her bad side. I guess some would say I already had.

Wordlessly, Valerie rolls her wide eyes and gets to mixing the drinks. I allow my eyes to wander for a moment, noticing how the white shirt of the work uniform hugged her body, the curve of her breasts making my mouth water. Just seeing her was enough to ignite the fire deep in my abdomen. The things I would do to leave with her tonight and take her to my bed, like I had so many times before. I would even settle for just some kissing. Just wanted to let my hands wander down her body, squeeze and feel where I wanted, with no urgency. I needed to feel all of her, wanted to drown in her.

“By card orrr…?” Valerie asks, clearly waiting for the payment. My eyes had gone glassy, and my lower lip had a small dent from the way I’d been biting down on it. I blink stupidly at her, struggling to calm myself down.

“I got it,” KK murmurs and slides her card to Valerie. I grab my drink, and the smell is enough to make my face scrunch up in disgust. I swear it smells like battery acid, and as I take a sip I notice - it also tastes like battery acid. I swallow the orange liquor, it burns on its way down making me cough a little. Valerie was watching me amused. I hated when she was right.

“People actually drink this and like it??” Ice asks, her voice hoarse from coughing as well. KK nods agreeing but I’m too stubborn to admit defeat.

“I actually like it,” I lie with a straight face, my fingers twitching around the glass as I try to get over the bitter aftertaste in my mouth.

“Oh right,” Valerie says, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she turns to another group of customers. I can’t help reach over the bar, my hand grabbing her arm. She turns back to face me, icier than I had ever seen. It shocks me enough that I let go of her, taken aback.

“What?” she asks, her voice filled with annoyance.

“You seen my texts?” is all I ask, and it comes out a little too desperate for my liking.

“Yes,” Valerie says matter of factly. I wait for her to continue but she doesn’t.

“Uh… well thought we’d link up or something,” I add, shifting on my feet as I do.

Valerie sighs in frustration and takes a deep breath to compose herself.

“I’m good,” is all she says and flashes me an ice cold smile. I feel a strange pang in my heart. She had iced me out before, but not like this. Usually seeing her face to face was enough for her to forget our petty little arguments, enough to get her on me again. “I have work,” she adds before finally returning to serve the other customers.

I stand there for a moment, astonished. An uncomfortable ache that had been wavering in my chest was growing too intense for me to ignore anymore. Maybe it was all my fault after all. I had told her I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else and in the moment I had meant it. But then I remembered the stakes. Last year to win a national championship, last year to prove my greatness. I wasn’t going to mess it up just because of some girl. A relationship would be nothing more than a distraction, an unnecessary responsibility. I had enough on my plate. Valerie was selfish for wanting me all to herself. She didn’t understand what she was asking for. Maybe calling her a psycho bitch wasn’t so far off.

I feel someone bump into my back and turn around to find a girl, cheeks blushed and apologetic. I see her eyes widen in recognition - it was always that moment when I knew I could have this girl if I wanted. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m a little drunk,” the girl giggles and I offer her an easy smile. I consider taking this girl home, imagining the way I’d lure her into my bed, just a little bit of sweet talk and a smirk would be enough, a hand on her waist, thumb rubbing her skin and soon she’d get this look on her face like she had to have me. It would be so easy, and I wouldn’t have to think about Valerie at all.

But the pain in my chest doesn’t go away, even when I let my mind wander further, how this girl would look underneath me, whimpering while I fuck her. It did nothing to make the pain go away.

“‘S fine,” i murmur and decide to ignore the way she was blinking at me, biting her bottom lip. I grab my drink from the bar, and push past her, finding KK and Ice sitting at our usual table. They both look at me, but don’t ask where I’d been. They both knew better. I sip my drink, cursing to myself in my head about ordering it. With sheer stubbornness I finish it quickly, finding that easier than taking small sips. 

“You’re never picking what we drink again,” KK scoffs, copying me, her face scrunching involuntarily when she finishes her drink. But I barely register her words, as I lean back in the chair, head tilting back to watch Valerie.

She’s giggling with Natalie, throwing her head back in amusement. The chatter in the bar is deafening, but I swear I could hear her laugh in my head vividly. Like my brain had memorised each tone of her voice. There was something different about Valerie, she always shined the brightest in every room she was in. Even the dingy bar was lit up by her. She wasn’t even necessarily extremely lively. It was her mere presence that just made everything better. 

I noticed it the first time I ever saw her, early september. All she did was walk past me on campus, talking lively into her phone. It was her voice I had heard before even seeing what she looked like. Her voice had been enough to make me have to see her. Of course she hadn’t even looked my way, not even a glance. That was the moment I knew I had to have her.

“You enjoy it?” Valerie asks KK and Ice, fully ignoring me as she walks to our table to clean up. I watch the golden bracelet she always wore dangling on her wrist as she grabs the empty glasses. I lean back and tilt my head to look up at her, needy for her attention. Licking my lips I look her up and down, that usually worked enough to get her naked. But now, she didn’t even glance at me. Annoyance grew within me as she chatted with KK, laughing at her jokes.

It was then when my eyes moved from her lips to her neck that I saw it - a dark bruise underneath her ear, right on the spot where she liked to be kissed. I knew, because I had left many bruises there and gotten scolded for it. But this wasn’t mine. This was someone else’s.

“Okay well see ya around,” Valerie smiles and turns to take the glasses to the back. I feel the pang in my chest quickly flip, turning into anger. I was furious. Who did she think she was? Sleeping around with someone else, not answering my texts, letting someone else mark her like that. I felt my body turn hot, and without a word to KK and Ice I get up from my seat, nearly knocking it over as I take quick strides to reach Valerie, following her into the back, ignoring the STAFF ONLY sign on the door.

My steps are heavy and loud as I reach her, standing by the sink, handling the dirty glasses. I was shaking my head to myself, trying to control my anger. But it was getting the best of me.

“Staff only plea-” Valerie starts and turns to me, unable to miss the redness of my face, the clenched jaw and the way I was biting on the insides of my cheeks. “Paige?” she asks, furrowing her brows, confused.

The pounding in my head grows and I let out a scoff, not feeling in control of myself. My brain was moving faster than I could follow, I felt lightheaded. I felt furious. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, my voice loud. I didn’t really care about being overheard.

“Huh?” Valerie asks, clearly bewildered, but already getting defensive in response to how I was acting.

“What, you don’t text me, call me or nothing? Because you’ve been too busy fucking some other bitch?” I yell, my hand pointing to her neck. Valerie’s eyes widen in realisation but quickly turn angry too. 

“I- WHAT?” She yells back and takes a step towards me.

“Don’t play dumb. So who is it?” I say sternly, grinning bitterly at her, my eyes looking down at her.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes shaking her head which only infuriates me more.

“I said. Who. Is. It?” I repeat, grabbing her arm. She pushes my hand off her, anger growing on her face as her brows furrowed further.

“How is it any of your business who I sleep with Paige?” She argues.

She had a point. We weren’t exclusive. Matter of fact it was pretty hypocritical of me to be so angry when I had a roster of girls on my phone, ready to answer my calls at any time of day. My anger had taken over though, and the little sense I had when it came to Valerie, was completely gone.

I throw my head back and chuckle bitterly, provoking her further. “See I knew you’re a lotta things but didn’t know you were a slut too,” I hiss, the words slipping out without much thought. I couldn’t think of anything but how furious I felt.

Valerie laughs loud, but it’s not the sweet laugh I was used to. It was a bitter, angry laugh.

“Me?! You’ve slept with every girl that swings your way on campus and even some that don’t! You’re the slut Paige!” she screams, her wide eyes burning with anger, her finger coming up to point at my face. It pissed me off, the way it was assigning blame, like all of this was my fault. Like it wasn’t she who slept with someone.

“I don’t owe you anything!” she declares, her voice revealing a hint of hurt, the way it cracked slightly. “I’m done with you. I’m serious Paige. Done,” she adds, her voice calmer, but more authoritative. “Now get out of my bar.”

My face was hot and red, my chest was heaving and my head spun. The hurt in her voice made me waver, made my chest ache more. I blink at her stupidly as she turns back to the dishes, already missing having her attention. I was fine with the yelling, the fighting, as long as it meant she was looking at me, or talking to me. But now she’s done with me? Fine, so was I. Wouldn’t take me longer than a day to find a new Valerie.

“Pshh whatever,” I murmur and storm out of the back, heading fast towards the exit. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my chest felt tight and I could taste the bitter Aperol on my tongue still. It made me nauseous,

I’m gasping for air once I feel the chilly breeze of february hitting my skin. The silence outside was overwhelming, forcing me to realise the rapid pace of my own thoughts. My mind was swirling with flashing images of Valerie, on top of someone, looking down at her like she did at me, the idea of her moaning someone else’s name made me sick.

“Fuck!” I shout, unable to control myself. A group of girls near me turn to look at me but return to their conversation when I sit myself down on the curb. What a standard I was setting for student athletes everywhere right now.

My eyes burn and before I notice, a tear rolls down my cheek. I bury my face into my hands and rub my jaw, my anger easing with each exhale. I didn’t know why I was crying, I didn’t understand any of this. I couldn’t believe the things I had said, the way I had acted. I was supposed to be disciplined, in control, but I felt so out of control when it came to Valerie.

“Paigey…” KK murmurs and suddenly I realise her and Ice are standing in front of me, looking down at me sympathetically. Embarrassed, I wipe the tears away and try to steady my breathing.

“Uhh sorry just gimme a sec guys,” I sigh looking at the ground. They sit on either side of me, wrapping their arms around me. I lean into Ice’s shoulder and I’m grateful how they don’t pry, or talk. We just sit there in silence for a while.

I take a deep sigh and lift my head back up, chewing on my bottom lip. I glance at both of the girls sitting next to me, grateful for the friends I had. At least I got one thing right.

“I dunno what just happened,” I sigh, shaking my head thinking back to my behaviour. The shame I felt made my cheeks turn a shade of red.

KK chuckles softly and ruffles my hair affectionately. “I do,” she mumbles.

I furrow my brows and turn to look at her. She looks back at me like whatever was about to come out of her mouth was obvious. KK and Ice glance at each other before KK opens her mouth to speak.

“Bro you have feelings for her.”

Oh?

Oh.

My mouth parts in realisation as I move my gaze from KK to the pavement. It’s just us now, sitting in silence, the sounds of passing cars and the muted sounds of the bar the only noise in the chilly evening.

“C’mon P boogers, let’s go home,” Ice says, standing up and reaching a hand down to lift me up. 

KK hops up and nods. “You need some Tru Fru,” she adds.

With a nod, I let them pull me up, following them to the car. I had feelings for Valerie. Shit. I'd just have to find a way to get over it - I couldn’t afford all this. Not right now. Not with the world watching, waiting for me to fail. Not with a national championship on the line.

-

taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @bueckersfive @onlyhereforpazzi @lovegalor333 @mandyvivic @frankoceanlvr303039 @angryflowerwitch @taylynbueckers44 @mamixdanni @rosemariiaa @d3arapril @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @vbueckers @sageworld @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @tndaqlifwy @justliketoreadsowhat @oreo2sblog @sftlyortega @slvt4her

NEXT ONE WILL BE HOTTER I PROMISE

[cherrynflowergarden]

જ⁀➴ bitter truths|| dealer!matt x doll!reader

sturniolo masterlist add yourself to the taglist

she was laughing, leaning against her desk as she chatted with noah, a guy from her college. her eyes sparkled as she giggled at something he said, her entire posture relaxed and comfortable in his presence. but matt, standing by the door, could feel something dark twisting in his chest as he watched them. he didn’t get jealous—but he’d seen noah around. he knew the guy. he wasn’t some harmless friend and he surely didn’t have the best intentions. and watching her so openly enjoying his company made matt’s jaw clench.

he cleared his throat loudly, catching her attention. she glanced over, her big smile faltering as she noticed the coldness in his eyes.

“oh! matt,” she said, pulling herself away from noah. “this is noah, from my psych class. he’s been helping me with some notes.”

noah nodded politely, but matt didn’t return the gesture, his arms crossed tightly, eyes narrowing. “right. helping,” he repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. her expression softened, her brow creasing slightly as she sensed his tension.

“can we talk?” he said, his tone stiff. “alone.” he added, bitterly eyeing noah.

she looked at noah apologetically. she barely had a chance to say goodbye before matt grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the room. she could feel the anger radiating off him, heavy, simmering, the kind that made her stomach twist.

she shifted under his gaze, trying to hold her ground, but his intensity made her stomach twist.

“what the hell are you doing, doll?” his voice was cold, almost a snarl. “hanging around with a guy like him?”

she frowned, taken aback by his tone. “he’s just a friend, matt. he’s helping me with some notes—”

“a friend? you don’t get it, do you?” his voice was mocking, filled with a bitterness she hadn’t heard from him before. “people like him don’t want to be friends with someone like you. you’re just easy prey.”

her eyes widened, a hurt expression flashing across her face. “matt, why are you being so—”

“realistic?” he interrupted, eyes narrowing. “because someone has to be. you think everyone’s got some good in them, that everyone’s gonna treat you the way you treat them. but that’s not how the world works, doll. you’re too blind to see it.”

her lip trembled, but she took a shaky breath, trying to stay calm. “you’re wrong, matt. i know what he’s like with me. just because he doesn’t fit into your world doesn’t mean—”

“oh, please,” he cut in, rolling his eyes. “you really think you know what you’re doing? you don’t have a clue. you’re just letting him string you along because he’s nice to you. that’s all it takes, isn’t it?” his words were sharp, condescending. “anyone gives you a bit of attention, and you’re ready to trust them with anything.”

her face flushed, her chest tightening at his words. “i thought… i thought you trusted me, matt. trusted that i could figure things out.”

“trusted you?” he scoffed, shaking his head in frustration. “y/n, i’m just trying to keep you from getting hurt. but you’re too stubborn, too naive to see that half these people only see you as an easy target.”

the word naive cut through her like a knife, each syllable laced with disdain. “so that’s what you think of me?” her voice was barely above a whisper. “some… some helpless girl who can’t take care of herself?”

“isn’t that exactly what you’re proving right now?” he snapped, his patience finally snapping with it. “you’re so desperate for everyone to like you, so willing to see the good in people, that you don’t even realize they’re laughing behind your back. they see you as this silly soft girl they can use and toss aside.” his voice was harsh, each word landing like a blow.

tears pricked at her eyes, but she held them back, swallowing hard. “i… i thought you saw me differently.”

he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “doll, you’re… you’re sweet, alright? you’re too sweet for your own good. ‘t’s gonna ruin you if you don’t learn to see through people like him. and right now, you’re just proving me right. you’re proving you don’t get how people are.”

she flinched, his words making her chest ache. “maybe… maybe i don’t want to see people the way you do, matt. maybe i want to believe in people. i thought you’d get that.”

“get that?” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “’m done trying to understand why you’re so determined to get hurt. you don’t get it, do you? you’re weak and you refuse to see it. you refuse to admit that you need someone to watch out for you.”

the words echoed in her mind, his voice searing into her heart. weak. naive. silly. and what hurt her the most was how he addressed her by her name and not as doll. she felt a tear slip down her cheek and quickly wiped it away, but matt didn’t soften, didn’t reach out to her.

for a moment, she couldn’t even speak, her throat tight with unshed tears. “if that’s really how you see me, then… maybe you don’t know me at all.” her voice was shaky, laced with hurt she couldn’t hide.

he watched her, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t move. he didn’t apologize or reach out to stop her as she turned and walked away, each step heavier than the last. she kept her gaze down, trying to block out his words, but they echoed in her mind, relentless.

days passed. she avoided his texts, his calls, even ignored the harsh banging on her door and every attempt he made to reach her. every time she saw his name flash on her phone, her chest tightened and the hurt bubbled up again. she knew matt was protective, that he cared, but his words had felt like a betrayal, like he didn’t trust her to know what was best for herself.

an; angst bc i'm sad(⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠) also tell me do we like this small title font more or the quote font one?

taglist; @mattsdolll @izzylovesmatt

[slytherinboysvip]

Imagine best friend Mattheo being absolutely obsessed with his innocent little Hufflepuff bsf but she just can’t tell. Everyone else knows, and it is quite obvious, but she just can’t think someone like him would want someone like her. But when she jokingly says she’s gonna get Cedric to take her virginity he decides it’s time he came clean.

Possibly with some soft smut if you are comfortable with it of course

bsf mattheo riddle x hufflepuff reader

hopefully this matches your request <3 i’ll most likely make a part 2 for this because.. you’ll see ;) 3.5k words

you lived a rather simple uncomplicated life, attending hogwarts as a hufflepuff with no interest in anyone’s drama. though you kept to yourself most times you tried to be nice to all your peers maintaining your classic hufflepuff demeanor, despite this there was one thing that was different about you.

you see, you didn’t see or understand why people don’t like other houses just because of “house rivalry” especially the students who weren’t even participating in any sports or point winning. and with this over your years though you had few friends you had one best friend who at first seemed rather impossible to be friends with.. mattheo riddle.

when you two met you were a fourth year and him a fifth, coincidentally you were going on to a few friends about your annoyance with people automatically assuming the worst of slytherin even though you yourself weren’t in their house or nearly like one. mattheo overheard this heated- adorable voice coming from behind him and he walked towards you carefully.

he sat down in front of you beside your friend as she gawked faces towards you at his presence. “you don’t think we’re too mean, huh?” he questioned small laugh leaving his lips. “i just think that some people are misunderstood and just because some wizards turned out bad doesn’t mean all of them in your house are” you looked at him answering his question with ease

he smirked in amusement and leaned a little closer to you “hm, hufflepuff eh? what year are you puff?” he sat back examining you and you didn’t fail to notice that nickname he slipped in “fifth year but i have an early birthday which is annoying because i could technically be out sooner” you sighed ignoring his staring.

“well, seeing as it’s ravenclaw against gryffindor do you wanna watch the quidditch game with me i know the best view” he stood up and held his hand out for you, you look towards your friends and they’re both nodding their heads for you to go so you did.

from that point on you and mattheo had been best friends, sadly he was in his seventh year and now you in your sixth nothing much had changed in your life. living vicariously through mattheo and his stories about slytherin parties and how you should go to one with him before it’s too late, he’d tell you about his sexual adventures and your jaw would drop everytime.

you yourself also confided in him though with much less interesting things, telling him how you feel unlikeable by guys sometimes because they never try to get or talk to you, or how you feel lonely because you’ve never had a a boyfriend before. hed always help soothe the thoughts away, telling you that it’s only your brain making those things up , “listen y/n, anyone who doesn’t love you is fucking insane”.

𓆙

talking to your friend zarah who’d been there since day one you always told her what you told matt, for the most part. “i just don’t get why nobody is interested in me zar, like am i genuinely that ugly” you plopped onto your bed sighing dramatically. “you’re not ugly and if you think no guys want you you’re blind i know one in particular that really, really wants you” she giggled.

you looked at her with a confused expression “i must be missing something because i have no idea who you’re talking about” you awaited her response and she just rolled her eyes and sighed “girl your practically boyfriend of a best friend you do everything with” she gave you a duh look and you just laughed. you genuinely couldn’t believe she’d even think he’d like you especially with all the girls he’d been with, “you’re hilarious, we both know he doesn’t want me he wants all the girls he tells me about” you started to compose yourself but zarah’s expression didn’t change.

“you literally must be blind y/n do you need glasses? or should i say puff? let’s talk about how that man hasn’t stopped calling you that pet name since you’ve met.. he’s in love” she rolled her eyes raising her hands in the air. “i still don’t think he wants me so there’s no convincing me” you shrugged her off and she groaned getting up and leaving your shared dorm.

𓆙

“puff you gotta come to this party, slytherin won agains gryffindor i just know this is gonna be the party you want to go to pleaseee” mattheo put his hands on your shoulders shaking you “fiinee” you attempted to answer between shakes before he let you go “if i would’ve known it was that easy i would’ve done that years ago” he rolled his eyes.

“anyways it’s tonight at like 8 so i’ll just get you from your dorm at like 7 do you think they’ll let me in? actually what’s the password?” he didn’t give you time to finish any of your sentences before you just gave him the password “butterscotch” you whispered, in response mattheo laughed “fucking butterscotch merlin that’s hilarious” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes walking away.

“i’ll see you at 7 puff” he yelled across the hall and you just gave a thumbs up and continued walking. you honestly were quite nervous seeing as you’ve never necessarily been to a party before, you’ve made small appearances at hufflepuff parties but you’ve heard they don’t even compare to slytherin.

making your way into your dorm you spot zarah and you pull her up from the common room couch “i finally said yes to a party need help now” you quickly mumbled and she quickened her pace “when does it start girl i need the info right this second come on you’re talking too long for me” she rushed and you blurted it all out “8pm he’s getting me at 7 he has the password he will be at the dorm” closing the door behind you two you both stopped to catch your breath

“sooo is it a dateee” she shimmied her arm on you winking “i already told you he doesn’t like me!!” you replied to her relentlessness. “ugh whatever we need to get you ready girl it’s already six” she pushed you onto your shared vanity chair and pulled out all of your makeup and a few things of hers, “creative control?” she asked smirking at you “mm fine but not too much” you agreed “we’ll see” she giggled.

after around 30 minutes she finished your makeup and she showed you the finished product, looking at yourself in the mirror you thought how you never would’ve put on red lipstick yet you feel really good in it. she gave you a small smokey eye and a small winged liner and you felt you looked more aggressive then you were, but you kinda loved it.

“it’s so much but so pretty” you admired yourself and the makeup she put on you slowly getting used to the feeling of fake eyelashes on your eyes. “i’m so glad you love it, but we need to find an outfit like three hours ago” she joked and rushed to your closets “i actually have the perfect dress in mind if you’re feeling the want to rep slytherin green” she raised her eyebrows up at you in a suggestive matter “sure why not” you shrugged

she handed you a velvet body con forest green dress that you were sure was going to be extremely short and you mean in every place. she held it up onto you “this will be perfect. get it on come on” she rushed you into the bathroom and you began putting it on “this is sooo tight” you called out as you struggled “oh i forgot it was a corset back wait i need to help you can i come in” she yelled through the door

“yeah come on i need this thing one me already” you struggled more as she walked in and immediately began to help you loosening the strings of the dress and pulling it down onto you “there we go now suck in like your life depends on it” she said half jokingly and began retightening the corset back. with every pull it felt like your chest was spilling out more and more and your ribs were shrinking “okay merlin that’s enough before i can’t breathe” you huffed and she stopped tying it off in a bow

“stop you look so hot y/n i bet matt will be drooling” she teased and you just rolled your eyes “what do we do with my hair” you looked at her with horror as you only had ten minutes before he should arrive. you quickly began curling your hair not really caring if it was messy just giving it some body and just as you were spraying perfume on there was a knock on your door.

zarah looked at you and whispered “answer it go go now” she pointed to the door like she was afraid to touch it herself and you walked over opening it to see mattheo in an all black button down with the top few buttons undone and black dress looking pants yet somehow he didn’t look overdressed. he didn’t say anything for a minute he was just staring at you looking up and down in awe “holy fuck y/n who did your makeup you look woah” he put his finger on your chin moving your head around examining your makeup

“zarah isn’t it pretty” you smiled and he removed his hand and replied “yeah you are, now let’s go” he grabbed your hand and you looked behind you waving bye to zarah “he’s so in love with you” she whispered before the door slammed closed.

𓆙

once you got the the party you noticed there were already many slytherins already pregaming and mattheo brought you two to them, “let’s get some alcohol in you little puff” he winked and poured you a shot of who knows what, you smelled the foul drink and it made your nose burn “come on do ittt” he cheered on and you held your nose throwing the shot back gagging at the taste. “how do people enjoy that” you made a face at him “like this” he replied taking two shots himself, “now catch up” he winked pouring you yet another

“if i didn’t know any better id say you’re trying to get me drunk matt” you laughed and he looked at you amused “obviously that’s what im trying to do it’s a party” he put the shot glass to your lips and you parted them taking the burning substance down your throat, “eugh that didn’t get any better the second time” you shook your head in disgust. “hm, let me make you an actual drink” he grabbed a clear liquor and a red juice mixing them together adding more alcohol than your past two shots and handed it to you

“matt this smells foul” you looked up at him, “just try it trust me the slytherins have the masking drink down” he winked and you reluctantly took a sip, and to your surprise all you tasted was juice. after taking another few sips you quick began drinking it and mattheo pulled the cup from your lips “slow down there this shits dangerous you’ll get so drunk you won’t be able to walk straight” he chuckled. “it’s not my fault they made it taste like juice” you shrugged still sipping.

“hey mattheo have your little hufflepuff take some shots with us” enzo threw his arm around your shoulders and mattheo pushed them off almost immediately “no she doesn’t need any shots” he spoke “you didn’t even ask me” you protested, granted you didn’t necessarily want to take any shots you just didn’t like being talked for. “oo are you sure you’re not slytherin you got an attitude” enzo laughed handing you a shot and you looked at mattheo who rolled his eyes as you took the shot.

throwing the shot back the burning sensation took over your throat and you could feel it rushing down your throat. you coughed a bit and chugged your drink for comfort “puff you’re going to get shitfaced slow down” matt fully took your cup this time and you were already feeling it. giggling looking up at him “okay now who was going to tell me party’s are fun” you continued giggling.

the music started playing and the slytherin common room was now getting more and more packed. you saw fifth year students and up in here, even a few ravenclaw and hufflepuffs your recognized. to your surprise in the corner of the party you spotted cedric diggory talking to a group of girls holding a drink.

pansy noticed your head being stuck in a certain direction and followed your eyes “oh em gee, someone’s got their eyes on a certain hufflepuff” she winked shoving her shoulder at your “shhhhh he’s just nice to look at” you giggled at her and she giggled along “you two would be soo cute” she added dragging you back to the drinks

“let’s take some shots!” she exclaimed handing you two , you took them smiling and shot them back with her, a woo leaving her mouth. “here chaser, chaser!” she shouted handing you another drink this time what looked like a lot of the punch, downing it all she laughed “girl we’re gonna be gone”. looking around you were seeing doubles of everything but didn’t want the night to already end.

“so, are you a virgin?” pansy shouted over the music making your already alcohol flushed face even redder “pansy!! you can’t just ask that!!” you shouted back flustered at the intrusive question, “i’m only curious girl” she giggled and gave you begging eyes “come onnnn” she shook you till you gave in “fine yes i am but don’t tell anyone!” you replied back as lowly as you could over the music

“who would you lose it to?” she giggled “i lost mine to blaise hehe sshhhh” she winked, considering she just told you her secret you felt obligated and just looked around “i mean i guess cedric” you giggled as she pointed at him after your response. before she could say anything else you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and drag you off. trying to kick your way out was useless and they brought you to an empty dorm.

through all of this you couldn’t tell who it was kicking and screaming for them to let you go till you heard mattheos voice “puff calm down it’s just me” he sighed putting you down on what you now assumed was his bed “why did you bring me in here that was so scary” you huffed trying to gain your composure. “diggory?” he scoffed not answering your question.

you looked at him confused as to what he was on about “what do you mean? what about cedric” you cocked your head to the side in confusion “you lost your virginity to him??” he questioned stepping closer to you looking rather.. pissed. you just laughed in response “me? lose my virginity to cedric?.. you’re funny” yeah you fantasized about it but it certainly wouldn’t happen.

“what were you talking to pansy about then??” he looked at you unconvinced, “she asked if i lost it and i said no, but id let him take it.-“ you shrugged “besides you know i tell you everything matt i’ve never even had a boyfriend let alone a guy be interested in my virginity” you sighed laying back onto the bed now feeling upset.

you heard mattheo sigh and you picked your head up to look at him, his eyes stared back at you in silence before breaking it “believe me there’s a lot of guys who want to get in your pants” he rubbed his fists and you gave him a confused expression yet again “what are you on about matt?” you were getting sober just from all of this extra mystery.

he walked over to the bed sitting beside you, “listen when we met you were just.. blooming completely and i would be lying if i didn’t say i first went up to you because of your looks.. well overtime you know we became friends and i noticed other guys staring in ways they shouldn’t have been so i had to teach them a lesson.” he looked at you and yo didn’t know how to respond to something like that.

“what exactly are you saying matt?” you didnt understand what he was poking at, did matt mean to say he basically likes you? were you reading too much into this? “look y/n, no one else in this school fucking deserves you. hell i don’t deserve you but i know i can treat you how you need. don’t ask me what took so long to confess to you y/n, but do you feel even remotely the same?” he let it all out quick and fast, and your mouth dropped.

“you want.. me?” you looked at him in disbelief and he just smiled “that’s what that whole speech was about, yeah” he chuckled nervously awaiting your reply “why?” you sighed still slightly unconvinced “have you fucking seen yourself puff? you’re so undeniably gorgeous, i don’t know how i hold myself back from you everyday” he leaned in closer to you making this all seem more real. without thinking you allowed yourself to lean into him, faces and lips meeting for the most magical first kiss you could’ve ever imagined.

“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n” he grabbed your face pulling you closer to him till you straddled over his lap sitting down continuing the now makeout. “this is so much better than.. imagined” you huffed through the kisses. you could already feel mattheos member growing beneath you and you never thought you’d be the one experiencing this from your best friend.

you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to a fantasy or two about him in the past but this was already one thousand times better than ever imagined. mattheos lips kissed their way down your neck leaving small marks tiny moans leaving your mouth, “i need to hear more of that, y/n, let me eat you out.. please i need a taste” he continued his kisses along your neck bringing them back to your lips “i’ve never- mm yes” you replied as his fingers began making circles over your underwear.

“you sound so good fuck” he groaned pulling you off of him and getting off the bed, “you’re sure of this?” he questioned one last time and you just nodded impatiently awaiting his next move. next thing you knew he was yanking you to the edge of his bed and slowly removing your pants and underwear looking up at you from below. “holy fuck puff.. you’re fucking soaking” he breathed out over your pussy sending tingles down your spine.

without warning his mouth met your untouched area and you felt things never imaginable. his tongue made its way around your bulging clit, flicking it up and down and making his way to your entrance sucking and licking “you taste so good holy fuck” he huffed going right back in not even looking up at you, “can i put two fingers” he spoke from your pussy and you couldn’t even properly answer “mm y-yes” you replied between your moans.

you felt his slender fingers teasing your entrance and he slowly began inching one in and out teasingly, “mattheo-“ you huffed and he chuckled shoving both fingers in, loud moan escaping your mouth and this new feeling. he did a few different moments trying to figure out what makes you moan the most, soon his tongue was sucking expertly on your clit as his fingers twisters and curled inside of you.

“matt i want to.. try” you moaned at this pleasure wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you now. “mm but you’re not ready yet puff” he continued devouring your pussy simply divulging in it as if he’d never eaten anything before. his pace on everything quickened and you were already near your own orgasm, “if you don’t s-stop i’m gonna cum” you moaned loudly trying to control yourself.

“let go for me sweetheart” he sucked harder on your clit, the nickname and action forcing your orgasm to flood over you harder than you’ve ever been able to make yourself experience. your body was shaking and you couldn’t hold your reactions back, mattheo slowly licked your gushing area clean before standing up “mm now i think you’ll be ready soon” he smirked leaning down over you, grabbing your chin and giving you a kiss.