#and everyone around them would be more comfortable

[prlssprfctn]

The moment Jason starts to feel more comfortable around the family to, at least, visit some events, Tim embraces the completely different dynamic from the one they had before. Now, he doesn't want them to banter around others. Now, he wants the others to envy him, because he plans to become Jason's favourite in the span of *checks his pre-planned strategy* two months.

Firstly, because he can't allow himself to not be loved by his big siblings (Dick and Cass adore him, there is no way he is going to break his successful record). Secondly, because being Jason's favourite would ruin, like, everyone's mood. Especially, Bruce's. And thirdly, because, urgh, fine, Jason is kinda smart and cool. (This line is crossed out several times, but it doesn't matter).

Jason, going through the gifts his family bought him unenthusiastically, because his family knows zero about what he actually wants to get as a gift, but at least they hadn't forgotten to invite him on Christmas party like the last year: Urgh, the book about controlling your anger... (his eye twitching) Right, thanks dad. The apron... Okay, thanks, Dick. The knife... Thoughtful one, Damian. Keychain from... Whatever, yeah, uh, thanks, guys.

Everyone: (hopeful eyes of absolute idiots) Tim, coughing: You forgot to open my gift. Jason: Oh, right, sec. Jason: (ear-piercing scream) WOODEN TEA CADDY LEFT FROM JANE AUSTEN HERSELF???????? Tim, sending a smirk to his disappointed family members: Well, yeah, I've decided to go with a small gift this time. Just bought it from her house museum, in Chawton. You know. Jason: (incoherent sounds of happiness) Bruce, through his gritted teeth: Good job. Tim.

And Jason? Well, he is sure that this gremlin plans something, but he hops on any idea that will create more chaos in the family. So, he plays along.

Bruce: That's reckless. You don't go alone on the missions like this, Jason. You were supposed to, at least, warn someone before going there. Jason: Uh, I literally did. My favourite brother knew. Dick: No, I didn't? Tim, from the coach: Yeah, I had his back. Don't worry, B. Damian: ...Since when? Jason: Since always, duh? Tim: (little evil laughter) Dick: Good. For you. Guys.

Tim: Hey, demon brat, tell B that I am out of patrols for today. Damian: Why is that? Tim: Oh, Jason taking me to the Gotham Knights' game. Damian: And why did he bother invite only you? Tim: Oh, I don't know, maybe because the last time you told him that all these sports suck. Damian, fuming: Drake- Steph, squinting: You said you don't like them either. Tim: Well, I guess I changed my mind after Jason invited me. Anyway, bye, losers. Damian: I shall put the end to his life! Dick: OKAY, CALM DOWN-

(A few months later)

Jason, sitting on the rooftop with Tim: Anyway, what is the ending point of all this? Like, until when you keep pissing them off by hanging out with me? Tim: Uh... Jason, there is no ending point. I like hanging out with you? Jason, with his eyes wet, because he thought Tim wasted his time on him just for the sake of something: oH

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: omegaverse, omega reader, careless alpha husband, marriage problems, poor communication

♡ GN reader

He’s a little reckless sometimes��not always paying attention to the feelings of those around him, but he means well, you��re sure of that.

He’s just a little high-strung, is all—doesn’t really have the time to think things through.

He’s always been like that—ready for just about anything and everything anyone would throw his way, and just sort of expecting everyone else to be onboard. He’s an Alpha, after all—it’s not in their nature to worry or look back.

All your life, he’s been the leader—all you others could do was chase after him and just hope on your life to keep up. And as an Omega, you were comfortable like that—with having someone to follow. It felt natural to you—safe and good and correct.

But when he started courting you, you admit being a bit skeptical—weren’t sure if it would work the same way, not sure if it even could. Being mates is different, after all. You’re supposed to be in tune with one another, and you weren’t sure if you’d be heard or just end up being bulldozed.

But you figured, since you weren’t too big on making decisions anyway, that you’d just go along with it, and it would be fine. You’d put your trust in him and follow his lead, and maybe that would be enough.

And it was. Everything worked out perfectly—for the most part. You married in the spring and moved into your new house the day after. He’s a good husband and nice man, deserving of the respect he garners, and he’s successful. A true Alpha. Perfect on all fronts.

What more could an Omega ask for?

Well… suppose it wouldn’t hurt if he listened sometimes. Or no, that’s not fair. You’d have to speak up first in order for him to listen. Still, you think… he should be able to tell without you saying anything. 

You don’t even know what you’re complaining about, really… It's not as if he’s done anything overtly bad. You just feel… well, you suppose you just feel a little left out. He’s so dominating in everything he does—you just end up being swept along in the process. He doesn’t ask for your input, nor do you give it. Things just happen the way he wants them to before you’ve even agreed. You don’t even think he recognizes it himself, how he makes decisions you’re supposed to be making together on your behalf.

He bought the house without telling you, for starters. But it was a wedding present and a nice surprise, so you’re not mad about it exactly. But given how big a step it was, it still feels strange to have been on the outside. Then he sprung that vacation on you and even called your boss to schedule your leave—only a month after your honeymoon, no less. Not to mention the wedding itself—how all the arrangements were already done before you’d even sat down with the wedding planner, of whom was his choice. In some ways, or in many ways, you felt as if you were just a part of the decor.

But it’s not as if you aren’t happy—because you are. And it’s not as if you don’t love him—because you do. It’s just well… You know it’s not exactly fair, but you’re beginning to feel a little taken advantage of… as if he doesn’t even care about you or your thoughts and feelings as long as you’re keeping him happy.

But you can’t keep feeling that way without telling him, you decide. You’re sure none of it is his intention. You’ve never taken an interest in decision-making, so why would he think you’d want to? For all his prowess, you can’t exactly expect him to read your mind, either.

So, tonight’s the night you’ll finally say something. You want to be included. If he’s hiring a new maid, you wish to be a part of it. If he’s buying a new TV, you want to help pick out which one. If he’s taking you out to dinner, you want to be informed, preferably beforehand. Even if all he’s doing is getting his hair cut, you want him to tell you about it.

“Hello, welcome home,” you greet once he staggers into the bedroom, looking tired yet no less neatly put together than always.

“Hello, my sweet,” he mirrors, voice gruff with the toils of the day as he marches over to plant a kiss on your cheek.

It’s late. You’ve already gotten dressed for bed, having been just about ready to cut your losses and postpone the talk for tomorrow.

He could have told you he was working after hours. No, he should have.

You were just about to switch off the night lamp and go to sleep—but find yourself feeling redetermined now.

This was just another one of those things you can bring up as an example, after all.

“I-”

“God, I missed you today. Felt like work took an eternity,” he groans, hurriedly removing his suit with sloppy movements, throwing his jacket on the floor, shirt quickly following before he’s back on you. “Give me those pretty lips—I’m starving.”

He takes your mouth with his, one hand steadying him against the bedframe while the other works on unbuckling his belt, hunching over where you lay.

You put your hands on his bare chest to distance him, asking, “Can it wait a bit?”

He drops his pants on the floor and climbs on top of you, face buried in your neck while muttering, “No, not really. Been waiting all day.”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something-” you try again, to no use.

“No talking tonight—none, except pillow talk.”

He says it with a smile. You feel it against your neck—his teeth and tongue and the heat of his voice.

You’re sure he means it playfully, and yet you freeze, feeling a little sick.

“But I really need to—”

“Omegas are supposed to obey their Alphas, you know.” 

His touch isn’t rough, but it’s not without force, but more than that it’s those words that make your heart jump and then stutter. 

You hold your breath, but it goes unnoticed by him or maybe ignored—you’re not sure which. It shocks you—scares you even, but then, following the original freight, your heart sinks, and you feel nothing but disheartened and disappointed.

And then, even a little angry.

“Oh…” you mumble, lying still beneath his onslaught. “I guess I thought I was yours ‘cause I wanted to be, but I see now…” Your brows cinch with many feelings between them. “I had it wrong.”

He halts then—struck with a sudden pang of guilt maybe, or perhaps just puzzled by your words. Whatever the case, the former rush he’d been in is gone, and he looks down at you—finally.

“What? What do you mea-”

“No, no, never mind. I was out of line,” you brush him off—harshly, and he blanches, going rigid. “Do what you want—you’re the Alpha, after all—so by all means.”

You turn your head to the side and lie still.

Eyes prickly and throat tight, you push the words out all stiff and hoarse, “I have no right to stop you, and even if I did, it’s not like I could. But who cares, right? Nothing I think matters.”

“Baby, you know that’s not what I mea–” he tries.

“Then what did you mean?” you all but bark, snapping to face him again. But however pointed your glare is, there’s no mistaking the now visible tears brimming in your eyes.

Seeing it, he stiffens even more, undaring to move. Trying to make his voice softer, “Don’t cry.”

But his acts of comfort are far from sufficient.

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” 

Good, you think—it better. He made you uncomfortable when he ignored your wishes, so why shouldn’t you? And ignore him in turn?

“Funny that, isn't it?” you continue. “The only thing I have against you is a pesky few tears. Would you like me to turn around, maybe?” 

You know you’re guilt-tripping him—and you’re not sure why or if it’s the right thing to do, but even so, you couldn’t find it in you to stop either—no, not until you had punished him, for some reason.

“If you hide my face in a pillow, maybe you won’t hear it either–”

“Please stop,” he finally begs, bowing his head. “I’m sorry.”

You stop. You’re not sure if he even knows what he’s apologizing for. And though the thought of asking him to clarify strikes you, it doesn’t feel important. Those weren’t the words you wanted to hear.

You sigh then, trying to calm yourself down. “I don’t need you to be sorry. I need you to see me—to listen—I need you to respect me.”

He looks up again, this time with a deeply remorseful expression warping his face. “I do. I’m sorry-”

“Really?” you question. It's a little harsh, you admit, but it's what you need, “Then get off me and go sleep downstairs.”

He’s rigid under your admonishment. Shocked by your claims, yet begrudgingly ashamed by the truth in them. 

You were right. He wasn’t paying attention. And by the looks of it, he hasn’t been paying attention for a while.

 “Okay,” he ends up agreeing.

Sliding off the bed like a shunned dog, he walks back to the door he’d only just come through a moment ago.

Keeping a hand on the doorknob, he looks back—head still bowed.

“Good night.”

You feel a little bad about how it turned out, but you steal yourself. You wanted to be alone right now. In fact, you think it would do you both some good.

“We'll talk tomorrow. Good night.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Hawks, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo ♡ HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin, Sae, Yukimiya, Baro, Aiku ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[moonstruckme]

hiiii mae if you’re up for it would you pretty please write spencer and intern reader when she gets hurt? holding her hand while she gets patched up or comforting her when she’s concussed or something of the like. i love your writing so much xoxoxo

Thank you for requesting <3

cw: blood, concussion, vague mention of a murder case but it's really just background

Spencer Reid x intern!reader ♡ 946 words

“Look this way, please.” 

When you don’t move, Spencer gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “Hey. Can you look over there?” 

You turn your face from Spencer’s jacket, and the paramedic gives you a kind smile. She knows you weren’t ignoring her; you only hadn’t been paying attention. “Follow my finger,” she tells you. 

Spencer watches as you do, her pen light gliding over your bloody face. There are tear tracks diluting the red. 

Staying with witnesses is supposed to be a safe part of the job. That’s why Hotch assigned it to you. But when Morgan walked the handcuffed unsub through the station, one victim’s husband lost it completely, and when you got into his warpath he shoved you so hard Spencer heard your head knock against the precinct’s tile floor. Blood puddled around your left temple before anyone could even make it to you. 

You started crying nearly as soon as you woke up. It was more than understandable, given the blood all around you and the confusion you must have been feeling after a head injury like that, but what scared the team was when you wouldn’t stop. JJ tried talking to you, even Morgan softened his teasing and offered you a hug, but to everyone’s surprise all you wanted was Spencer. You calmed some once he sat down in front of you. Tears still dribbled from your chin, but you didn’t seem quite so distraught, and you let the paramedics look at you so long as Spencer stayed. Eventually he wound up in the back of an ambulance, an arm around your shoulders while you sniffled miserably into his windbreaker and a paramedic applied butterfly bandages to the cut on your head. 

Your eyes water as the paramedic clicks off her pen light and begins asking you questions. It takes a few moments for your gaze to settle on her. 

“It’s…it’s Wednesday.” You turn to Spencer. “Is it Wednesday?” 

His heart throbs at the vulnerability in your tone. “Focus on her,” he says, softening the directive with a stroke of his thumb over your shoulder. 

You turn back to the paramedic, answering her questions with varying degrees of uncertainty. Your fingers curl in the material of Spencer’s jacket. He has the urge to tuck your head underneath his chin. 

The paramedic informs you (or informs Spencer, really, you’re not paying much attention) that they’re going to take you to the hospital for a CT scan. They’ll let him ride there with you if he wants to. Spencer says yes without a thought. 

While she goes to pack up her supplies, he takes your fingers and unbunches them, warming your palm between his. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks you. 

You make a soft, stymied sound, bringing the unhurt side of your head to Spencer’s shoulder for a rest. “I don’t like this.” 

Spencer doesn’t need to ask which part you mean. He imagines none of it is pleasant. The light and sound of an ambulance in general has to be torment for your head. 

“Try closing your eyes,” he suggests. 

“I’m worried that will make me dizzier.” 

“Do you feel sick?” 

“Not really.” 

“Just try. It helped last time.” 

You sigh but do. You turn your head so your forehead is pressing into the bump of his shoulder, and Spencer reaches up to stop you before you can get close to rubbing against the bandages keeping your cut closed. 

Your voice is a watery consistency. “I really don’t feel right.” 

Spencer feels a painful tug in his middle. “I know. I’m sure it’s scary, but it won’t be forever. We’re going to the hospital, and the doctors are going to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I just don’t like this.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Spencer?” 

“Hm?” 

“I really feel like I messed things up.” 

He has to remind himself not to move. In his surprise, his instinct is to pull back, to search your face for answers, but you’re pointed where he can’t see you with your voice trailing down his arm. 

“You didn’t. What makes you think that?” 

“It just…it feels like…” 

The words take a while to come. Spencer forces himself to set aside his curiosity. 

“It’s okay,” he says gently. “You don’t have to think about that right now. Just rest. You didn’t mess anything up.” 

“It feels like I’m…” you forge on, determined. “I’m always either not helping or in the way.” 

Again, Spencer’s first thought is to ask what you mean by that. But he doesn’t want to force you to overexercise your injured brain, so he tries to go along without elaboration. He fills in the gaps. 

“You’ve never been in the way,” he assures you, meaning it. “And you help us a lot. We wouldn’t be nearly as efficient without you, especially on this last case.” 

“I’m just an intern.” 

“Exactly. So it’s even more impressive how valuable you’ve been to our team.” 

You’re quiet for a few moments. Spencer starts rubbing slow circles into your shoulder with his thumb. Your forehead warms his arm through the jacket. 

“Thank you for staying with me. You’re always so nice.” 

“It’s no problem. I like hanging out with you.” 

“I don’t feel very well.” 

“Are your eyes still closed?” 

A pause. “Were they supposed to be closed?” 

Spencer smiles at the top of your head. Even confused as you are, there’s a familiar note of inquisitiveness to your tone. Like all you ever really want is to be sure you’re doing the right thing. Spencer is warmed that you trust him to tell you what that is. 

“Try closing them.” 

“Oh. This is better, thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.”

[agustdakasuga]

Every Moment With You

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, IdolBoyfriend!Yoongi, Idol!Namjoon, Idol!Seokjin, Idol!Hoseok, Idol!Jimin, Idol!Taehyung, Idol!Jungkook

Summary: Finally, the boys are able to take a break without any cameras and fans. And since they will be a private compound on their own, of course Yoongi invited you. And now that you're able to comfortably spend time with him, you want to make full use of it before he goes back to work.

Word count: 7,395

When Yoongi unlocked the door to the apartment, he was greeted to by the sight of you blasting 'Haegeum' and throwing hand signs around, jumping on the spot like you were at one of his AGUST D D-Day concerts.

"이 노래는 해금" You tried your best to rap, still not noticing your boyfriend leaning against the wall, watching you with an amused smile on his face.

"Ayy!" You couldn't catch up with all the lyrics of his rap so you kept throwing 'ayy's around.

"어쩌면 이 또한 또 다른 해금, yeah" You finished and Yoongi pushed himself off the wall, clapping to finally make his presence known.

"What the-" You jumped and let out a yelp.

"H-How long have you been there?" You screeched, pointing an accusatory finger at him. Yoongi continued clapping and laughing at how surprised you looked to see him.

"Halfway through the chorus. Although I wish I was here to see the entire performance." He chuckled.

"Damn right, you know I'm way better than Agust D. But sorry, there are no encores around here." You scoffed.

"Yeah, we don't know who Agust D thinks he is." Yoongi smiled and shuffled over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. You threw your arms over his neck, tip toeing slightly to hug him properly. You tightened your hold around him as he turned his head just enough to press a kiss to your cheek.

"How was the studio session?" You asked.

"It went better than I expected. I should be able to record guide vocals with Jungkook soon." He replied, one hand moving to stroke your lower back affectionately.

"That's great." You giggled, pulling back to give him a peck. You helped him remove his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack.

"Oh, right. I wanted to tell you, the boys wanna head up to the Soop estate to stay for a few days." He informed.

"Ah, I see. Go ahead, I think it's a great idea. You all should take the chance to get away for a bit before promotions really kick off again." You said, going to the kitchen.

"You should come too." He followed you into the kitchen, grabbing a cold coffee from the fridge.

"Yoongi, I would love to but... you remember the last time... it was hard for everyone to hide me from the cameras..." You sighed.

"I know, aegi. But the management said there will be no cameras, no content filming, no fans, nothing. We'll have the whole place to ourselves with security in case of trespassers. So if you would like to go, I would love to have you there." He held your hand.

"Oh, sure. If the boys are okay with it." You smiled, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

"Please, of course they are okay with it. They didn't even care about whether I was going, all they wanted to know was if you were going." He rolled his eyes.

"Alright. I have some vacation days my boss has been asking me to take anyway so the timing is perfect." You said.

"It's settled then. Go get packed, we're leaving tomorrow morning at 5 am." Yoongi patted your hip.

"We'll have our own room, bathroom and small seating area. And of course, the camper van is ours too. You've seen it on the show, it's like the one Jungkook stayed in with Bam." Yoongi informed.

"I mean, if the other members need more privacy, I don't mind sharing a bathroom or living room space." You shrugged.

"No, no, no. Don't say that. For me, we need our own space." Yoongi was quick to interject, shaking his head.

"Sure~" You laughed.

During In The Soop 1, Yoongi spoke to management about you tagging along with them and they agreed since Yoongi would be using the camper on his own. But even so, it was hard for you to stay hidden. You would have to duck out of the way, wake up earlier to leave the bed and make sure your stuff was hidden.

On top of that, the editing team had to do multiple rounds of checks to make sure that any footage of you or your belongings being captured was removed.

"Go shower, I'll start packing." You waved him off. He hummed and came over to kiss your temple before going to the bathroom.

"Shirts, pants, underwear..." You took out a few sets and laid them on the bed.

"Hoodies... Dresses..." Leaving Yoongi's clothes on the bed for him to check first, you packed your stuff into the suitcase. Then you packed make up and some travel toiletries.

"They have toiletries there, aegi. Unless you need something specific." Yoongi said, re-entering the room.

"Oh, okay. Saves me the space then. Can you check if that's enough clothes for you?" You asked.

"I think I'll take a few more shirts. Last time, I ended up being pushed into the pool by a drunk Namjoon. It was edited out since most of them were drunk and removing their clothes." He let out a sigh.

"I'm sure the fans would have liked to watch that." You raised your eyebrows. Yoongi helped you with the packing, stuffing his things into his own suitcase. He put your skincare along with his own in his travel pouch and packed that.

"I can finish up here if you want to nap." You told him, knowing he was working in the studio the whole of last night.

"It's alright, we're almost done." Yoongi patted your head. He took the clothes that you both decided not to bring and put them back into the drawers or hung them back up in the closet.

"Aegi, should I add your skirt to this hanger with the rest or would you prefer me to use a new one?" He asked.

"A new one would be great. The other one looks too full." You said.

"Good idea." He went to the laundry area to get a spare hanger and came back, neatly hanging your skirts before putting it back into your side of the closet.

"Okay, we're done! Time for us to sleep." He declared.

"Yoongi, it's 1pm. I'm not sleepy! You go to sleep." You said between your giggles.

"No, you know I can't sleep without you." He grumbled in a low voice, not sure if it was meant for you to hear of not. But without another word, Yoongi laid on his side of the bed, scrolling on his phone.

"Aren't you tired?" You tilted your head.

"I am... I'm just waiting for you." He let out a big yawn, stretching his arms and legs like a cat. You let out a sigh of defeat and moved the packed bags aside, crawling into bed with him. Yoongi used to sleep on the left but after his surgery, he changed to the right so he wouldn't sleep on his left.

"That's better." He cleared his throat, pulling you close and letting you sleep on his right arm, his left casually slung over your hip. You felt him kiss the top of your head.

"Ugh." You tried to sleep but you had just woken up not too long ago. On the other hand, Yoongi fell asleep so quickly.

"You always work so hard." You whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek as he slept.

"I love you." You were glad he was done with military. Yes, as a social service officer, you saw Yoongi everyday but he always looked so tired and frustrated that he didn't have time to work on music.

You slipped out of Yoongi's hold and left the bedroom, closing the door behind you.

"Clean up, do laundry, make snacks, pack drinks." You made a list.

Since you and Yoongi were not going to be around, you wanted to clean the house and do as many chores as you could so you wouldn't have to do them when you get back.

"Aegi?" Yoongi lifted his head to find himself along in bed. His hand touched your side of the bed, feeling how cold the sheets were. He groaned as he sat up and yawned. Slipping on his house slippers, Yoongi left the bedroom.

"Aegiiii..." His sleep riddled voice called out for you.

"In the kitchen!" You replied. Yoongi blinked in confusion and went over to the kitchen. He watched with a small frown as you were wrapping the rice ball in cling wrap.

"W-What are you doing?" Yoongi came closer, leaning closer and squinting to figure out what you were doing.

"Make snacks for us and the others to eat on the bus ride." You laughed, pulling him back.

"It's just snacks, babe. We might get hungry or the others might get hungry too." You said, putting all the rice balls aside, next to the wrapped sandwiches.

"Thank you for doing this." He smiled.

"I'm always happy to feed you and the boys." You put all the items into the fridge, intending to bring them in a cooler bag later.

"You made Japanese potato salad?" His eyes widened when he saw you put two containers in too.

"Mhmm. I know you like it. Plus, I ran out of bread and since I was boiling eggs anyway, I took some for potato salad. This second one container has no cucumbers, its for Taehyung." You explained, going to grab some disposable cutlery that you and Yoongi collect from all your food deliveries.

"You spoil them too much." He clicked his tongue, stealing a boiled egg to eat. Yoongi always says you give in too much to the younger ones but it's always hard to tell them no.

"You spoil them too! Jungkook's whole 'Yoongi hyung never scolds me' thing." You put your hands on your hips.

"T-That's different." He looked away, his ears turning red.

"Sure, it is. You keep telling yourself that. And I don't just spoil them, I spoil you too, Yoonie~" You cooed at him, pinching his cheek. He scoffed and slapped your hands away.

"You know I hate all your nicknames... And you're meant to spoil me, you're dating me, not them." He glared.

"Don't worry, I didn't forget that." You hugged his waist, leaning your head on his chest.

"You better not." His clean hand came to stroke the back of your head. As you cleaned up the kitchen counter, Yoongi heated up the leftovers for you have dinner.

"Aegi, dinner time. Stop working." Yoongi called you like a mother calls her child, putting the plates of food on the dining table. You closed your laptop and went over to help him, grabbing the side dishes from the fridge and the cutlery.

"I managed to file for my leave. I shot my boss a text and he told me to go ahead, he'll approve it tomorrow morning." You informed.

"That's great, aegi. So, you can take the time to just relax and immerse yourself in nature with me." He smiled. You nodded with a hum and sat down.

"Thank you for the food, Yoongi." You picked up your chopsticks.

"You're very welcome. Eat up, aegi." He removed the bone from the galbi and placed the meat on your rice.

After dinner, you did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen while Yoongi did his own packing. He never went anywhere without his music and sound recording equipment.

"You know, usually partners would get nagged at for bringing work things on vacation." Yoongi joked.

"Why would I nag you on something that brings you happiness? If by chance, that's work. So be it." You shrugged.

"You're something else, aegi." He chuckled and shook his head, carefully packing his expensive equipment into their foam cases and zipping up his guitar. Then he grabbed his computer bag to pack his laptop and all the wires. It was satisfying to watch him pack, he was so neat and meticulous.

"Would you prefer me to nag...?" You teased. He shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. Once he was done, you placed all your things by the door.

"Okay, we have a few hours to sleep then we have to go." He reached out to hold your hand.

"I'm excited! I haven't seen this new estate." You clapped your hands happily.

"Oh, that's right! I forgot you haven't seen the estate before... And I event went again for song camp when producing D-Day." Yoongi slapped his forehead in realisation and you nodded.

"Of course I wouldn't go for song camp." You said. You knew you wouldn't value add and just be a distraction if you went."

"I think you'll like it, there's a lot more space than the first Soop location they rented." He squeezed toothpaste onto your toothbrush.

"But the company actually owns this place, right? Like the whole area. The first estate was a rental." You asked. He hummed and began to brush his teeth, so did you.

"I'll set an alarm. Goodnight, aegi." Yoongi mumbled, eyes on his phone, playing his basketball game.

"Goodnight, Yoon." You wished back, tucking yourself against his side. As he used his phone, his other hand absentmindedly stroked your head, which lulled you to sleep really quickly. Left with only 3 hours to sleep, he put his phone away to join you in dreamland.

--

"Everything is packed." You zipped up the cooler bag with all the food that you prepared last night. Yoongi insisted on handling most of the bags, loading them into the car.

"So I'll leave the car at HYBE while we're at the estate. The others should be making their way there, the bus leaves at 6." He said.

"Mmm..." You hummed, still tired.

"Aigoo, my precious girl. You can sleep on the bus." Yoongi leaned over to cup your cheeks. You pouted at him, making him chuckle as he started the car to drive.

"(y/n)!" Your name was yelled across the carpark as you and Yoongi unloaded the bags.

"Shhh! Taehyung ah, you're too loud." Jimin chided.

"Hi." You waved, trying to hide your yawn as you helped Yoongi with the bags. Of course, the boys took over the bags, sharing the load especially with Yoongi's music and recording equipment. You all took the lift up to the back of HYBE, where the bus was waiting and the other boys were boarding.

"Good morning." You bowed to the others and Yoongi sent them a lazy wave, passing the bags to the bus captain who was loading them into storage.

"Glad you could join us." Namjoon smiled.

"Thank you for having me." You giggled, adjusting the scarf Yoongi bundled around your neck.

"Oh my, Jungkook's bringing Bam? Hello, Bamie~" You cooed as Jungkookg walked over with the doberman. Bam jumped excitedly, standing on his hind legs to sniff you and lick you.

"I've missed you too, big baby. Yes, good boy." You rubbed your ears. When Yoongi was done, he grabbed your hand.

"Let's get out of the cold." He said softly and led you to the bus, helping you up the steps.

"(y/n) packed food for everyone." Yoongi announced to the other boys who were settling in their seats, and Jungkook was trying to settle Bam down.

"Thank you, (y/n)! You're a life saver." The boys all threw thanks their way. Jin volunteered to have the cooler bag of food beside him since he had a spare seat beside him and he could help hand it out to the boys for you.

"Yes, she is." Yoongi mumbled under his breath with a chuckle but you heard him.

"You don't have to stay awake, aegi. Go to sleep." He put his arm around you. With such a big bus, everyone took alternate rows to be able to recline their seats comfortably.

"The rice balls are good, (y/n)!" Jungkook said, his words muffled by the food he stuffed in his mouth.

"Yah. You're getting rice everywhere." Hoseok chided.

"Thank you." You replied with a giggle before leaning back in your seat. You didn't know when you fell asleep but Yoongi opened the small lap blanket he brought and draped it over you.

"Can we dim the lights a little?" Yoongi requested. The manager asked the bus driver to lower the lights.

"So hyung, how happy are you to have her here?" Jimin asked from across the aisle, watching Yoongi draw the curtains and adjust the overhead airconditioning vent so it wasn't blowing in your face. Yoongi turned around to glare at the younger before checking on you, making sure you didn't hear Jimin.

"Thankfully she had enough vacation days to come with us. She deserves a nice break too." Yoongi replied, not answering Jimin's question directly.

"You're always afraid to gush about her, around her. You do it silently, behind her back." Taehyung pointed out with a laugh.

"I don't gush about her. I just appreciate her and what she does for me." Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"Sure, hyung. You don't gush... keep telling yourself that." Namjoon chuckled, eyes still trained on his kindle. Luckily the bus was dark that they couldn't see the light blush on Yoongi's cheeks.

"I don't gush." Yoongi looked back at your sleeping face, not sure who he was trying to convince at this point.

When you woke up, you felt Yoongi's head on your shoulder and tried your best not to move.

"Jimin, can you hand me my phone there?" You whispered to the male who was playing his nintendo switch. He nodded and reached over to get your phone from the seat pocket.

"Thank you." You smiled softly. Like all younger brothers do, Jimin retrieved his own phone and snapped a picture of sleeping Yoongi on your shoulder before retreating back to his seat to continue his game. You chuckled and shook your head.

"He's going to kill you if he knows." You told him.

"Then don't tell him." Jimin snickered. You spent the remainder of hte bus ride on your phone, not wanting to move to disturb Yoongi.

"We're here, everyone. Wake up!" Namjoon stood up. You gently patted Yoongi's thigh to wake him. His eyes fluttered open and he looked around.

"Good morning, Yoongi." You giggled.

"Good morning, aegi." He yawned and stretched his arms. As everyone was busy gathering their stuff, you gave him a peck.

"Come on, let's get off this bus." He helped you pack and held your hand as you got off the bus. Standing in the mansion estate, it was so much bigger than what the television showed.

"Let's go, Bam!' Jungkook let Bam off his leash and started running towards his room with his bags in tow.

"He has so much energy." Jin clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"All he did was sleep and eat on the bus." Hoseok laughed. You were unsure of where to go so you just followed Yoongi. He slid open one of the sliding doors to a room in one of the villas. Like Yoongi said, it was exactly like Jungkook and Bam's room in the show, practically like a studio apartment without a kitchen.

"Wow, I can't believe this is just one section of the villa." You said, pushing the suitcases to the corner.

"Yeah, each room has a small living space and bathroom. Then the kitchen and big living room is in the main mansion." Yoongi said, closing the door behind him.

"I do watch In The Soop, you know?" You teased. He scoffed and went into the room.

"Ah. This is comfy." He laid on the bed.

"It's so nice and tranquil here." You said, moving to lay on him, resting your head on his chest. Yoongi lazily threw an arm over your shoulders to hold you.

"As much as I would like to continue sleeping in an actual bed, we need lunch. Everyone ate your food but you." Yoongi said.

"But I'm not hungry." You yawned, burying your face into his chest. Yoongi kissed the top of your head.

"Lovebirds! Are we doing lunch or what?" You heard Jin's voice from your door. You yelled out an acknowledgement to the oldest and immediately got up, making Yoongi let out an annoyed groan from behind you.

"We'll wash up and be right there!" You smiled to Jin. He nodded, giving you a thumbs up before leaving to head to the mansion. You went to wash your face.

"Aegiiii..." Yoongi drowned out and leaned his body against yours, his hands holding your waist from behind.

"I'm trying to wash my face!" You squealed, feeling his fringe tickle the back of your neck.

After you and Yoongi washed up, you convinced him to at least have lunch. Hand in hand, you strolled to the mansion. Yoongi looked around the place, ruffling his hair with his free hand.

"What are you craving for?" Yoongi asked, the both of you removing your shoes before entering the mansion.

"I'll have what the others are having. You know I'm not picky." You shrugged.

"I know but I'd much rather cook something you want to eat and not something the younger ones want." He chuckled. The two of you saw the others playing games in the living room.

"Woah, be careful, aegi." He grasped your waist to move you out of the way before Taehyung could accidentally hit you while challenging Jin and Jungkook.. You followed him to the kitchen to help him cook. Yoongi opened the fridge to look at what the managers had stocked up for your stay here.

"What about cheesy dakgalbi?" He turned to you, smiling when he saw your eyes light up with excitement and happiness. You nodded your head.

"I'll cut the vegetables, you can handle the meat." You told him.

"You should rest. Let me cook." Yoongi crossed his arms as you took out the cabbage, carrots, onions and potatoes.

"I am resting. Doing this with you is rest." You said, retrieving a cutting board and knife. Yoongi shot you a flat look but didn't argue, preparing the chicken and marinade.

"What are we cooking?" Hoseok came into the house with Jimin. The shorter male joined the others in the living room, playing games.

"Dakgalbi." Yoongi replied.

"Anything I can help with? Make some coffee?" Hoseok suggested. You and Yoongi immediately nodded.

"Coffee would be amazing, Seok. Thank you." You giggled, chopping the cabbage and putting all the vegetables into a bowl for Yoongi to cook with later.

"Oooh, this smart stove is really cool." You watched Yoongi put two big pans over the stove. With 8 people, he probably thought it would be easier to eat out of two pans rather than everyone trying to get into one pan.

"I'll make some gyeranmari and dumplings to eat on the side." You said, cooking on the stove at the back. After giving you both your coffees, Hoseok helped you with cooking the sides.

"Lunch! Call whoever is not here!" Yoongi yelled.

"Coming!" Those in the living room came out. Taehyung called Namjoon over while Jungkook grabbed cutlery.

You all sat together to eat, some of the boys sharing the microwave rice packs, knowing they will probably use the leftovers to make fried rice to share later.

"Thank you for cooking!" The boys chimed before digging in.

"Mmm." You nodded happily. Yoongi placed some chicken on your plate, his free arm resting on the back of your chair the entire time.

"This is just what I needed! We should bring you on vacations more often, (y/n)." Taehyung exclaimed happily, making a wrap with the chicken and eating it in one mouthful.

"She's not your personal chef." Yoongi sent Taehyung a look but you knew they were just joking.

After lunch was done, those that didn't cook were on clean up duty. Yoongi took the opportunity to get you out of there. He grasped your wrist and practically dragged you back your shared room at the villa, making it clear he didn't really want to stay and socialise with the other members anymore.

"You're being anti social. Maybe the boys want to spend more time with you." You slapped his arm.

"We can do that another time. Now is me and you time." He huffed, removing his hoodie so he was just in his undershirt.

"I need to use the bathroom." You went to the bathroom, also getting out of your uncomfortable clothes. You changed into something comfier, aka Yoongi's shirt.

"We're going to stay in bed until we are called for dinner." Yoongi said when you entered the room.

"I like that plan." You giggled and fell on top of him. He wrapped his arms around you to turn you around so you were on your sides.

"I'm just happy to spend time with you." You reached out to cup his cheeks, caressing the skin with your thumbs. Yoongi gave you a gummy smile and lifted your hands to kiss your fingertips.

"Are you sleepy?" He asked.

"No, I think I slept enough in the bus." You said, betrayed by your yawn.

"Yeah, we'll see about that." He stroked the back of your head. You scoffed and pulled away, sitting up to lean against the headboard with an intention to read. Yoongi shifted himself so his head could rest in your lap.

"You should sleep more." You patted his head, knowing that he probably didn't sleep well on the bus.

It felt so peaceful and normal to spend time with Yoongi like this. With you, he wasn't an idol, he was just your boyfriend and the two of you were spending some time off together.

"Feeling sleepy yet?" He murmured sleepily, hugging your legs like a bolster.

"No, I'm not. Now, stop interrupting my reading." You said. It didn't take long for Yoongi to fall asleep.

"(y/n)? Are you here?" You looked up from your book to find Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook at your doorway. Luckily Yoongi pulled the blanket to hide your bare legs.

"Shh..." You hushed them, pointing to the sleeping Yoongi who was hugging your legs.

"Come play." They waved you over.

"But..." You gestured to the sleeping Yoongi. No one ever dares to wake Yoongi up, maybe except Taehyung with kindergarten music playing in the background. The 3 couldn't help you now since you were pantless and you were pretty sure Yoongi might have an aneurysm if he knew that they saw you.

"Go, I'll come out in a bit." You told them. They gave you thumbs ups and closed the bedroom door. Looking down at Yoongi, you carefully shifted away, replacing your legs with a pillow quickly.

"Sorry." You stroked his head in case he woke up. It was hard when he had almost all his weight on your legs.

"I'll be back." You leaned down to kiss his cheek. Yoongi didn't seem bothered by you moving him.

Looking around, you grabbed a pair of sweats and put it on before going out, where the 3 boys were waiting for you in the tiny living room area.

"Let's go!" Taehyung held your hand and pulled you out.

"Where did she gooooo?" Yoongi groaned, feeling the pillow against his cheek instead of you. He sat up, seeing the sun starting to set.

"Aegi?" He called out from bed but there was no reply. Ruffling his hair and yawning, he got out of bed and noticed that his sweats were missing from the floor.

"Nooooo!" Yoongi heard your squeal and grabbed a new pair of pants, going out to see where you were.

There you were, playing in the rain with Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. Jungkook was chasing after you and Jimin with an evil smile. Yoongi grabbed an umbrella and exited the room, he stood there quietly, watching all of you play.

"Oh! Yoongi!" You spotted your cat-like boyfriend, standing there with his black umbrella, and waved at him. Yoongi smiled back at you. Since you were distracted, Jungkook suddenly grabbed you.

"Ah!" You yelped in shock as he lifted you up.

"Yah! Be careful with her!" Yoongi barked, coming over to where you all were playing.

"I'm fine, Yoongi. Don't worry." You grinned, drenched from head to toe. Yoongi sighed and reached out to move gently your wet hair away from your face.

"I'm going to get started on dinner. You guys should go dry up so we can eat." Yoongi said.

"Aww!" Everyone jeered but Yoongi was not budging, he was really worried about you catching a cold.

Despite you already being damp, Yoongi still sheltered you with his umbrella all the way back to your share room. He entered first to put a towel on the flower so you wouldn't slip coming in.

"Leave your clothes in that bathroom when you're done. I'll put them in the dryer later." Yoongi told you. You nodded and leaned forward to give him a grateful peck on the cheek but you were careful not to let your wet hair drip onto his clothes. After that, he left you to shower and warm yourself up.

"(y/n), are you heading to the main house?" You caught Namjoon coming down from the room upstairs.

"Yeah. But I think the spare umbrellas are there and Yoongi took the only one that was here." You said, holding your wet clothes in your hands after you wrung out all the water.

"Come, I'll take you." He smiled.

"Thank you!" You ducked under the umbrella with him and walked towards the main house.

"So, I saw you guys playing out in the rain from my window earlier. Can't believe the younger ones managed to rope you into their antics." Namjoon chuckled.

"It was all fun, you should have joined us. We're just kids at heart, playing in the rain and puddle stomping." You giggled.

"Maybe next time." He slid open the door for you to enter.

"Definitely. Hey, Yoon. Don't worry, I got my clothes." You greeted your boyfriend, who was cooking in the kitchen with Jin. He nodded in acknowledgement and you brought your damp clothes to the laundry area, throwing your clothes into the wash.

"Thanks for walking her over, Namjoon ah." Yoongi nodded over to the leader. Namjoon smiled and headed to the living room.

"I could have brought it in for you to be washed, aegi." Yoongi came into the laundry room.

"It's fine, it's just a few pieces of laundry. You're already busy with dinner." You laughed, starting the machine. The two of you walked out, hand in hand.

"Look at you two being inseparable." Jin teased, clicking the tongs in his hands. Yoongi rolled his eyes but didn't let you go.

When you first started dating and being more open around the other members, you and Yoongi would have separated if one of the members teased you. But now, Yoongi wouldn't part from you.

"I'll cook the rice and ramyeon." You tied your hair up.

"You should sit. You already cooked lunch." Yoongi said to you, patting your hip.

"You cooked lunch too. Plus you and Jin already did most of the work. It's just rice and ramyeon." You smiled. Yoongi nodded and helped you tuck your stray hairs behind your ears so they wouldn't bother you. You washed your hands and went to scoop the rice into the rice cooker.

"Wow, it's smelling good!" Jimin said as he came in, running his hands over his damp hair.

"Can you get the side dishes out from the fridge?" Jin requested. Jimin saluted and went to do that. While waiting for the rice to cook, you got the cutlery and plates to set the table.

"What are you doing now?" Taehyung shuffled over to you. You pointed to the ramyeon stack.

"Can I help?" He asked.

"Sure. I just need to open all these before the water boils." You giggled. Jungkook might be the youngest but Taehyung was everyone's baby brother.

"Once that's all done, we can eat. Get your drinks and rice." Yoongi announced to everyone.

"Yes, hyung!" Everyone went to line up with their rice bowls while you continued to cook the ramyeon.

"I got your rice, aegi." Yoongi told you.

"Thanks, Yoon. It's almost done." You said to everyone. Once the noodles were done, Jungkook came to help you carry the pot to the table. You took your seat beside Yoongi and he cracked open your can of soda for you.

"Thank you for cooking~" Everyone dug into the food hungrily. As always, the dinner conversation was spent chatting and laughing, as well as reminiscing old memories.

And as the others cleared up after dinner, you sat with Yoongi in the living room. He nestled a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"Come." He called you to him. You leaned your head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around you.

"Are you sleepy? I bet you didn't nap earlier since the younger ones dragged you out to play." He asked. You shook your head but was betrayed by your yawn.

"You're such a liar." Yoongi snorted.

"Am not." You scoffed, pinching his side. When clean up was done, the others invited you to play some games.

"Refill?" Namjoon asked Yoongi, refilling his own whiskey glass after coming down from the mini reading corner upstairs. The two of them always enjoyed reading with a glass of whiskey.

"I'm good. Thanks." Yoongi placed his empty glass down.

"Yoongi! I won! Did you see that?! I am the champion!" You turned to your boyfriend and pointed to the screen, squealing in excitement. Yoongi leaned his head on his hand with an endearing smile and nodded his head, giving you a thumbs up, he was like a parent watching his child play and win for the first time.

"Rematch!" The boys protested.

"No way! I'm going to bed." You stuck your tongue out at them, causing them to jeer at you. Hearing what you said, Yoongi put his glass down on the table and stood up.

"You don't have to go with me, you know? You can stay with them if you're not tired." You giggled.

"No, I'm tired too." Yoongi said.

"Goodnight. See you tomorrow." You all wished each other. After he placed his whiskey glass in the sink, Yoongi and you walked hand in hand back to your shared room.

"I'm not going with you because I have to, it's because I want to. So don't feel like you're making me do anything." Yoongi suddenly said.

"I know. But it's your vacation too. I don't want you to feel like you have to stick with me constantly." You shrugged.

"I'll gladly stick with you 24/7, that's my ideal vacation." He smiled softly. You lightly punched his arm for being so cheesy. Yoongi would only act this way around you privately and you liked that.

"You can set up your music stuff here if you prefer the space here over the camper. I don't mind it, really." You told him as you squeezed toothpaste onto both your toothbrushes. Honestly, you were so used to Yoongi and his music equipment, it didn't bother you.

"This is our space and since I'm working with some of the members, I don't want them coming in and out." He explained.

"I don't mind it if it makes things more convenient for you." You smiled.

"I mind. I prefer our privacy. The camper's just there so it's not a far walk but thank you for offering, aegi." He rubbed your back. The two of you brushed your teeth and washed your faces.

"Alright, you can change your mind any time." You said as you wiped your face with a clean towel.

"Thank you." He kissed your temple and left you to do your skincare.

"Surprisingly, there are still people sending me messages, congratulating me on finishing my military service." Yoongi noted, sitting at the table with his iPad.

"Maybe they didn't know you finished and saw a news article so they congratulated you now." You giggled.

"Yeah, Halsey asked when we are going back to America to visit her and her family." He said.

"Sure, if your schedule allows it. I can't wait to see Ender again. Children change a lot in 2 years." You said. Yoongi nodded in agreement with a small hum. Of course, you followed him to America on holiday and Yoongi insisted he meet the celebrities that he was close with.

What fans didn't know was that your home wallpaper on your phone was the full, actual picture of Yoongi snuggling up to Ender when you both visited him as a baby.

"Maybe this time he won't give me stares when I say hi to him." Yoongi scoffed.

"Please, he loved you! You were just an awkward uncle at the start." You giggled, walking over to him.

"I still am an awkward uncle. I was never one that was great with children. Taehyung and Jimin are great with kids, even clumsy Namjoon is." He said, hands resting on your waist.

"You're great at a lot of other things, so what if you're not comfotable with children." You ran your fingers through his hair.

"Thanks, aegi." He laughed, pressing his forehead against your middle.

After Yoongi finished replying to some emails, the two of you changed and headed to bed but you both didn't sleep just yet. One thing you and Yoongi liked to do was just lay on your bed and use your phones, scrolling on social media.

"Look, it's you." You showed him a video of a white kitten that was sleeping on the couch like a human. Yoongi rolled his eyes and turned back to look at his own phone.

"How was your first day here?" Yoongi asked you.

"Good. It's nice to get away and spend some time with the others." You giggled and Yoongi hummed.

"Besides, isn't this technically the first holiday you guys are taking as 7? It's nice to just have a break for yourselves." You said. Yoongi nodded his head.

"Yeah, no cameras before the next comeback." Yoongi put his phone to charge and turned back to look at you.

"I can't wait for the new Run BTS episodes." You teased, charging your own phone.

"The fans will realise that military didn't change us. We're still the same competitive people that will fight over a cup of ramyeon." Yoongi chuckled as you scooted closer to him.

"And I love that about all of you. You never let anything change you." You reached up to cup his cheek.

"I love you." He held your hand and kissed your fingertips. You smiled softly and leaned in to give him a peck before burying your face against his chest. You felt Yoongi move slightly so he could pull the blanket up to cover the both of you, making sure you were well tucked in and warm.

"Goodnight." You wished. Yoongi grunted and threw his leg over you to hold you even clsoer to him. Even if you usually started cuddling, you and Yoongi would usually break apart at night.

"Are you cold? I can adjust the aircon." Yoongi asked, his hand stroking the exposed skin of your hip.

"I'm okay. The blanket is warm enough." You snuggled against him.

"Shall I wake you up for breakfast tomorrow or do you want to wait until you wake up on your own?" He checked. You hummed, knowing Yoongi was quite an early riser.

"I'll wake up a little later. Maybe 10? In case you wake up at like... 7 am." You groaned.

"I don't wake up THAT early. With you around, I tend to wake up late and stay in bed longer." Yoongi chuckled, pinching your cheek.

You slept comfortably with Yoongi, feeling relaxed and tranquil. Usually Yoongi didn't sleep well in a bed that wasn't his own but with you, he could sleep anywhere.

"Yoongi hyung?" Yoongi woke up when he heard someone call him. Even if it was another member, he sat up and instinctively moved to shield your body with his own, since you didn't wear pants to sleep. Taehyung stood at your doorway.

"I completely forgot (y/n) was here. I'm sorry!" Taehyung's eyes widened when he realised.

"Go out. I'll come out." Yoongi said, voice riddled with sleep. Taehyung obediently went to the living room area. With a soft sigh, Yoongi turned to check on you.

"Who was it...?" You mumbled.

"Taehyung. I'll be back, go back to sleep." He kissed your temple and went out.

"Sorry! I really forgot (y/n) was here, we usually just go to each other's rooms to wake each other up..." Taehyung looked so distraught Yoongi didn't have to heart to say anything.

"It's fine, Taehyung. Just tell me, what do you need?" Yoongi yawned, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jin hyung's making noodles for breakfast and he wanted to ask if you and (y/n) want some." He relayed. Yoongi looked at the clock.

"Oh, it's 9 already... No, it's okay, thanks for coming to ask. I think we'll just wait for lunch." Yoongi said. Taehyung nodded with a salute and left. Yoongi went back to the room, making sure to close and lock the door this time. He fell back into bed with a long exhale and got under the blanket with you.

"Who was it..." You breathed out, turning to face Yoongi.

"Boys asking if we want breakfast. But I told them we'll stay in bed and just have lunch later." He said, his arm going around your shoulders to hold you to his chest.

"Good idea. I'm not ready to leave the bed." You yawned and buried your face against him.

"Mmm, sleep more." He patted your head. Although Yoongi didn't want to sleep more, he didn't want to move from the bed too.

"We came all the way here just to sleep." You chuckled, voice slightly muffled but of course, Yoongi understood you. Under your cheek, his chest shook as he laughed.

"Isn't that the best holiday?" He asked, stroking your back. This was the ideal holiday to him.

"I guess... We won't have time to sleep in and spend time like this once you guys start having comebacks again." You said.

"That's true." He hummed.

"What time do you have to get up to record?" You asked, obviously you were not going back to sleep too. But it felt nice to be as close to Yoongi as possible.

"Not sure, don't worry about it. We'll always find time. Anyway, we're here to relax, not work. I'll just find Jungkook later to do the guide vocals, I'm sure he is also going to sleep in." He snorted. You nodded in agreement.

"But working on music is a form of relaxation to you." You teased. Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"There you go again, spreading those sort of rumours like Jin hyung. I'm not a workaholic, you know? I'm not always working on music, I have a life outside of work." He scoffed.

"Mmm, sure."

"My life outside of work is you. If I didn't have a life outside of music, I wouldn't have you." He stated.

"You're so cheesy, stop it." You reached up to cover his mouth with your hand. Yoongi chuckled and took your hand, planting a light kiss against your palm.

"Soon, I'll be back to watching you backstage or from the wings. And more late night visits to your studio." You sighed.

"Do you miss it?" He asked.

"I thought I wouldn't when you were in the military but I think I do miss it, just a little. But I realised that I'll always miss you when I'm not with you. It's going to take me a while to adjust." You said.

"Now who is being the cheesy one?" Yoongi poked your side, making you squirm. You lifted your head, moving your body up slightly to hug Yoongi properly, winding your arms around his neck. You could feel him plant a kiss to the top of your head, resting his cheek there as his hands rubbed your back lovingly.

"I love you." He said.

"I love you too." You replied without any hesitation. You knew you were going to miss having Yoongi around so much.

Even without saying it, you both shared the same thought, you wanted to spend as much time together as possible before Yoongi's schedules kept him busy.

--

Main masterlist

[cowboyschumi]

MUSE

Summary: Oscar is known for being bad at padel, which is why he tries other hobbies, like photography. Now, he clearly needs something to take photos of.

Author's note: Oscar trying to play paddel 🤏

I'm a huge fan of taking inspiration from songs, so you can listen to this. Don't forget to enjoy the reading and show some love. <3

Warnings: None ig.

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COWBOYSCHUMI | 2025 All rights reserved. Do not copy, translate, or upload on other platforms.

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Oscar had to be grateful for being that good of a driver. Man, he was really bad at other sports. Everyone pointed it out and made fun of him, some people even pitied him or found it cute. He even tried golfing, but that racket was his last straw. He was a bit frustrated, but Oscar wasn’t the type to get frustrated and give up. He just accepted the fact that he wasn’t gifted enough.

His Instagram was— for his luck because he wasn't a media guy— managed by a social media professional, who made him posts and even took charge of taking pictures. Yes, none of his dumps, captions, or stories were posted by his own hands, which was crazy. He wanted some sort of control over that, after all, he had a voice and a platform. Not taking advantage of that would be a shame, besides there was no fun and genuine part if he wasn't the one behind his Instagram. So he decided to take it more seriously, it made his brain hurt in the most untolerable ways but he started to post more, engage with his fans.

Instagram dumps are such a religious thing for some people, he wasn't in that group until now. Having a picture perfect Instagram would let people have more connection with the places, his interests— perceive him differently and not some boring and flat boy with not much to say.

Like any driver, he had a stylist, a PR team, and other fancy stuff—which he didn’t like much because the main focus was on him, physically. His content was different now; it was full of sunsets, yachts, cars, and food pictures. He had to thank his team for lending him a professional camera—it made the quality ten times better.

"It's a lost cause." Oscar spoke as he carelessly dried his hair with a towel.

You vividly remember the first time he stepped into one of your classes—the typical shy kid who barely spoke. Other drivers came along with him, doing most of the talking, but they weren’t consistent in attending. For them, padel was just a way to kill time. Oscar, on the other hand, wanted to know everything about it—from the size of the court to executing the perfect shot with his racket. A few weeks after his first class, he started booking lessons on his own, demanding more focus and dedication.

He came around twice a week, and seeing him so often, you quickly grew close. So it wasn’t surprising to find him frequently emerging from the showers at the padel club. You had even learned to tolerate his wannabe tennis grunts when he hit the ball. At this point, you had already seen the worst of him.

"You’re just being hard on yourself. Not everything has to be perfect."

Like in any common locker room, there was a bench where people placed their clothes after showering. You sat there as you two talked.

No matter how comfortable you were around Oscar, you respected him, so you made a point of not looking at his shirtless torso.

"Don't give me a pity speech. I’ve heard enough of that." He really did sound tired of hearing it. But it was true—no one should be too hard on themselves for not meeting their highest expectations. Striving for perfection in everything wasn’t normal. Oscar’s mindset was too rigid, and being optimistic felt like an impossible task for him.

"Webber told me you started… photography? He even sounded worried about what you might do with that." Chuckles and laughter echoed through the warm changing room.

"Yeah, I mean, it’s pretty great. Still got a lot to work on," he admitted sincerely, making that classic uncertain face he always did when he wasn’t sure about something. His facial expressions were always amusing. "I got bored of photographing the plants on my balcony at home. Took some photos of Lando, and Hattie doesn’t even want the lens near her."

Laughter filled the room again—it felt like a comedy show at this point. But when it faded, you exchanged a tense glance, as if communicating telepathically. A mischievous smirk lit up his face.

"No." Your answer was immediate and firm, anticipating what was coming.

"I haven’t even said anything!" He raised his hands in mock innocence, his guilty smile still in place. Oh, you knew him too well.

"I won’t. I’m not photogenic."

"Please, just one time."

Oscar always swore on one-time things. But when something felt good, you tended to repeat it. He knew exactly how to take advantage of your kindness, always asking for harmless favors—because, in the end, you never said no to him.

————————————————————————

And there you were, in his Monaco apartment, on a morning when rain was pouring outside. Oscar always pointed out the differences between his current lifestyle and the one he had in Australia, the daily longing for home. That small place in Europe had its charm, and he wouldn’t complain, but he missed the wide-open spaces, the warmer weather, and even his mom’s cooking. Now he lived on the highest floor of the busiest avenue, in a cramped apartment so small that he barely had space to walk around.

"I brought donuts and coffee," You announced while cleaning your boots on the entrance mat.

"Cool, thank you. Would you mind sitting by the window? The light is majestic." His attention was focused on his camera, probably adjusting some tricky settings.

"Already bossing around?" Unbelievable. The kid already thought he was a professional photographer, giving orders and having the worst attitude.

You had a big trench coat on, surprisingly still soaked after the unstoppable rain. And it kept coming—people still struggling with their umbrellas, cars almost floating down the street. That’s what you could see from how high his apartment was.

The brown-eyed boy placed his face behind his huge, intimidating camera, yet somehow, you didn’t feel intimidated by it—after all, he was the one taking the photos. But then, an unexpected expression of discontent crossed his face, confusing you. Your brows furrowed instantly, maybe you weren’t pretty enough to be photographed. You relaxed your body, stopped posing—that was it. At least you tried.

"Take it off." Oscar’s index finger pointed at my jacket, his face continued hidden behind the camera. The view was limited, but his expression remained unreadable—no emotion, all seriousness. Clueless.

"It's freezing cold outside, you're insane." Despite your protest, you did as he told you—just like always, hating yourself for it. Your body leaned against the nearly immense open window, the breeze sneaked through with ease, making your skin shiver. Your face card wasn’t your main attribute, maybe your toned padel body was. Still, you couldn’t quite grasp why he chose you, considering all the contacts and friends he had. Favors were an unbreakable thing between you two, but, of course, you never owed him a thing.

A few more adjustments, and his camera was down again, poker face still tattooed all over him. With slow, measured steps, he walked closer until he stood right in front of you. His mannerisms were always soft and gentle, like he had been written by a woman. Not exactly naive, but delicate enough to make you feel safe and comfortable in his presence.

Oscar set your coat aside, draping it over his vintage couch. His whole place had that aesthetic. You especially loved the Abu Dhabi carpet that stretched across the floor, its deep reddish tones were delightful. His eyes couldn’t help but dart down your slim silhouette. Your white sleeveless shirt, drenched from the rain, clung to your curves, turning entirely translucent against your skin.

Finally, your eyes connected, and you desperately searched for answers, whether in his gaze or through words. The driver was entirely focused on his task, calculating angles, observing the natural lighting, and analyzing your body. Over-analyzing your body.

You knew that look—the one men gave when they stared too long, leaving a disgusting feeling. But Oscar wasn’t like that. Yes, he was staring, but with such admiration and adoration that, for once, you didn’t mind. For the first time in a long time, you felt pretty. Feminine. Reaching that level of femininity wasn’t easy. Padel and sports had always shaped your image, conditioning you to appear tough, stereotypically masculine. But under his gaze, all of that melted away.

You broke eye contact as the staring became too overwhelming for your liking, exceeding your daily dose of attention. You couldn’t just escape him because he was there, and you were working, or something like that. Your breathing hitched, and you involuntarily let out a low gasp at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin. His touch was cold, just like your body. The only warmth came from the fire igniting in your cheeks. His fingers hooked around one of your white straps, which had fallen out of place.

God, you wished you could say a word, anything, but you were petrified.

“You look gorgeous.”

“You just say that hoping I’d say yes to another photoshoot. Your guinea pig.” The back-and-forth banter and sarcastic flirting didn’t end, but now you were playing silly enough to avoid any heartfelt compliment. You didn’t like those types of things because you never knew how to react, especially when they came from him. His contagious laughter filled the room and your world turned upside down.

Something always lingered between you two, and it was the expectedly obvious, taking into account the amount of time you spent together—padel mornings or sometimes afternoons, dinner nights if class ended late, and when he actually managed to wake up to his multiple alarms, cycling together. But it was casual because you never knew what could cross a man's mind; spending a whole day together could mean nothing to them, maybe he even saw you in a sisterly way. So you tried to chill, not giving it much importance—because, again, a compliment could mean nothing.

His free hand found its way to your nape, resting his palm there, barely cradling it. You had no choice but to regain eye contact; he had you cornered with his gaze—physically, too. Any cold once brought by the winter weather had vanished. Your skin was hot, almost burning. Oscar's gaze didn’t reflect frenzy or desire; he looked lost, even stunned.

“Let me kiss you, please.” He murmured hopelessly, his words caressing and sweetening your ears in the most shivering way.

“Oscar, professionally is not the best to-” It was just a matter of seconds before he silenced you in the most cliché way possible. His kisses mirrored his personality—timid and shy, as if he were afraid to go too far. Yet, at the same time, they were sweet and innocent, like a first kiss, completely inexperienced.

Something that you clearly weren't used to.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him even more close, letting each other feel how you teetered, how you edged by just a kiss. Your consent gave him more confidence, turning the encounter into something deeper, sloppier. His lips parted against yours with more urgency, the hesitation melting away as the two of you let each other get lost in the moment. His breath was uneven, intoxicatingly mixing with yours. The kiss grew needier, desperate, and hungry. The sound of your teeth crashing messily together was secondary as his tongue brushed against your lips, savoring, tasting, before he dared to explore further. The slick warmth, the breathy sounds between kisses, the way his body pressed against yours—it was thrilling in the best way.

“I never really liked padel that much, nor was I good at it. There was no chance of improving. But you know why I kept coming back.” Oscar's smile emerged in the middle of the kiss, his tone playful, hinting that he knew he’d been doing something wrong just for the fun of it. Paying for extra classes just to see your face more than once a week? Genius move.

“Oh, I'm so gonna kill you.” You warned him, still in disbelief, that he’d been such a fool, especially since you would’ve said yes to any date prior if he’d only had the courage. There was no need for this extreme and unnecessary padel. But, still, seeing him struggle was part of your routine—and you enjoyed it. Not wanting to hear any lame excuses, you pulled him in, deciding to stay glued to his lips for a very long time

[priisprii]

Gentleman - Joshua

Summary: Your gentleman boyfriend is freak in the sheets.

Warnings: dom!Joshua x fem reader, unprotected sex, fingering, spit kink, penetrative sex, edging, pure filth.

Word count: 1.7 k

Minors don't interact.

Gentleman

That's what your boyfriend pretends to be infront of everyone; an innocent, kind and sweet ball of sunshine, he indeed is gentleman. He's the most considerate and warm human you ever met. Joshua was painfully perfect. But not a single soul would have thought that this sweet-natured honey boy was a whole different person with you in the bedroom. A cruel sadist . His comforting voice somehow becomes more deeper and sexier while he uses it to whisper the dirtiest words possible that leaves you a broken mess in his hold. His long fingers were able to reach the most sensitive corners of your pussy. He was everything you wished for, a caring boyfriend and also a strict dominant to overstimulate you till you beg him to stop. It didn't mean that you didn't feel safe or loved, he had a way of words that made both your heart and pussy skip a beat. It was true that there's a wild side to every innocent face.

" I am not going to touch you unless, you beg sweetheart" Joshua snickered , this was the third time he edged you this night , the sweet torture was beyond your limits, you wanted him to put his glistening fingers back to where they were. He knew you were a little hesitant while voicing out your needs so he always made you cry out what you wanted him to do the most. A literal tease. Your face was a complete mess. Tears falling from your eyes and mouth covered with spit and cum from the recent blowjob you gave your boyfriend.

" Please put —your cock inside me, please daddy", you pleaded him , voice so desperate and shameless, it made Joshua's cock twitch a little.

" Your wish is my command doll", Joshua said as he positioned his one arm on side of your head, his eyes heavy with lust and adoration piercing your soul . He entered his two fingers inside of you to stretch you out a little for his thick dick. Even the slightest touch turned you on, the previous ruined orgasms made your mind mushy, the only thing you were focusing on was how good his fingers rubbed you down there, he curled his them up for a last time before removing them from your needy cunt and cleaning them on your breast and pinching one nipple not to hard, you were blabbering incoherent words. He just gave you a wicked smile before entering his cock inside you, stretching you out in best way possible. Joshua felt he's in heaven, your walls squeezing his cock damn perfectly, he didn't waste any more time before thrusting in and out of in a ferocious speed. That's how he was fast and rough. Skin slapping and filthy moans sound filled the room.

" open your mouth"

"Wider slut" He said as his hand reached against your tear drenched cheek slapping you not in a hard way, the action making your abused pussy throb around him .You opened your mouth as wide as possible. Joshua removed his cock from your pussy and entered his fingers inside you , twisting, curling and scissoring them in the most brutal yet pleasurable way possible. You knew what exactly he was doing. He collected both of yours as much as wetness and precum possible before he placed his fingers inside his mouth and then went down on you passing down the spit and precum from his mouth to yours. The mixture directly went on your tongue, it felt so filthy yet good. So fucking messy, This was Hong Joshua. He could have also done this after Cumming inside you but he preferred to look at the best view while he fucked your brains out . he always somehow finds new way to make the sex sinful and dirty as much as possible. He enjoyed watching his girlfriend being like a actress straight from porn so vulnerable and fucked out.

" Swallow", Joshua said while he admired you, watching the mixture of liquid pooling inside your mouth. You swallowed eagerly after his command. You looked at him with Blurry doe eyes admiring every detail of him.

" Good girl", he said and moved his hand on top of your head patting you softly before entering himself inside your fluttering cunt again. His pace again the same fast and deep. You whimpered below him, feeling so full and cloudy.

" Who owns you ?" Joshua rasped out in your ears dangerously, the possessive side of him coming out.

" you, you--" you said breathlessly as you grabbed his shoulders for support. Upon hearing you Joshua was beyond satisfied. You were his and he was yours that's what that mattered. His hands roamed on your body hips, thighs breast neck everywhere , he was really touching like he owned every single part of you, that made you feel some type of way, butterflies exploding inside your stomach. Your orgasm was close, Joshua felt you tightening around him , your toes curling due to indescribable heavenly pleasure.

" I want to cum", you said, your words coming out broken and weak. He was close to his high too.

" my pathetic slut, can't even beg properly." Joshua mocked your broken state with full pride, knowing that only he was able to see you so fucked out and vulnerable and only he can make you feel so good. He grabbed you by hair and let you in a passionate hungry kiss, pushing his tongue further down your mouth, saliva leaking from the corner of your lips from his force, his kisses were dangerous for you . He wrapped your left leg around his waist while while he gave you the permission to cum around him.

With a high pitched moan you let your orgasm ripped through you, you felt like being on cloud nine. Squeaky sounds becaming more audible as Joshua was still fucking you out while you ride down your high, the overstimulation making you dizzy. With few final thrusts he cummed inside you, his warm cum painting your walls, the feeling was amazing, after fully empting himself while being still inside you, he slowly moved his hips trying to shove the liquid as deep as possible his hand reached yours , intervening and kissing each other with now just pure love. He looked down at your both connecting sexes feeling proud and simply happy.

He plopped down beside you and embraced you so lovingly moving his hands on your head and stomach, he snuggled in your neck and left soft kisses behind.

" you okay baby? " , Joshua asked you softly while playing with your hair.

"I am", you said voice weak due to screaming and moaning so much.

"you're breathtaking" Joshua whispered preping your cheeks with kisses.

" let's quickly have a shower baby, tomorrow I need to make red velvet cake for you , Joshua said in an enthusiastic tone, sounding just like a child. My sweet cinnamon boyfriend.

A/N : I miss my shua guys

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

//the slightest of shaking you

Sonic's ego is actually used for the delight effect on his friends hhhgh your killing me with wholesomeness/j

I wonder though, is there's ever any nonverbal platonic methods aspecSonic could have developed?

Aroace Sonic pt 8 (no they're not dating)

Sonic’s got all kinds of ways of showing affection. Obviously there is more than just these, it’s just all i doodled last night before passing the heck out in bed hgLKJSDF

1. Sonic usually moves away if anyone expresses active verbal dislike of his physical affection; Knuckles is the exception to that rule. He would genuinely throw Sonic through a wall if he actually didn’t like what he was doing, no words required. But Knuckles is touch starved! He doesn’t know how to do this whole physical affection thing, and most everyone else is kinda nervous about crossing boundaries with him so it means he gets very little touch. Sonic notices that and instead of drawing attention to it, he just invades personal space like the gremlin he is and no one questions it, chalking it up to his usual antics. Knuckles gets a safe place to get the physical affection he needs without worrying about how it looks and Sonic gets to love his friend, it's a win-win. (Rouge is p much the only other person chill with touching Knuckles casually since she’s just comfortable with physicality and not the least bit nervous around him.)

2. Speaking of Rouge she and Sonic are very silly with physical affection because Rouge is extremely comfortable expressing herself physically and Sonic is chill with p much any small gestures because its just another way of showing affection. Platonic cheek kisses and aggressive flirting are pretty normal for them! They find it funny to fluster other people this way.

3. Sonic will very randomly just plant his hand on someones face if they're standing close enough. No context, no warning, usually they're not even part of the conversation that's happening and he doesn't move it off unless they move it themselves or it's time to leave. (He does this whenever he notices someone zoning out or look like they might be lonely since they aren't part of the main conversation to make them know someone else notices they're there and cares.)

4. Sonic's physical affection is so incredibly casual that if you're around him long enough it kinda starts to fall of your radar and you just stop noticing when it happens, (i.e Tails.) It's much more common than his verbal compliments so it ends up pretty commonplace. Physical touch is actually his first go-to unless the person is really touch-averse.

5. Falling asleep on people is his ultimate weapon because they're less likely to try and escape if he's asleep (cat sleeping on lap rules sorry.) The other reason is because they're free to be as soft as they want without worrying about him using it to gloat at them later. (A lot of stuff this dude does is hecka strategic.)

[elliewrites77]

Pride and Anger

this is probably the only angst i've written to be posted, like ever. and it came to because I was thinking about Ace and Luffy, and how sad (and unnecessary, ill die on this hill) his death was. so, like most sane people, i will continue to pretend Portgas D. Ace is alive and well, and my poor Luffy did not have to go through something so traumatic by himself. I hope it doesn't come off as too angsty or all angst. that's a fun word lol

He was alive. Portgas D. Ace was alive.

Critically injured and on the brink of death, sure. But alive.

He was really alive and in front of you.

And you were furious.

You were furious with him, with the marines, with Garp, with Roger, with everyone. And that was exactly why the members of the Heart Pirates stayed as far away from you as they could get. The only person you had spoken to with even a little bit or kindness had been Law, and that's just because he saved their lives. Both boys had been on their last breath when Law saved you all in Marineford, and you were grateful to him, truly, but you were far too enraged to worry about your manners with his crew. You snapped at anyone that suggested you leave them to rest, and when Luffy finally woke up, you snapped at them when they said you should go up with him, to the island of warrior women. You refused to leave Ace's side.

You felt bad, sure. You wanted to be with Luffy, to comfort him as much as you could. But every time you tried to move, your body froze. It was keeping you there, with Ace. You knew Luffy would understand, and at least he wasn't alone. You were thankful for Jimbei too.

You keep replaying the events over and over in your head. Especially the part where Ace almost turned back. He almost turned around to fight, to die for some words. Pride, that's what almost took your closest friend. Pride over a pirate who had already given his life for Ace. Pride that almost make him break his promise to you. His promise to come back.

You don't know what stopped him, really. Maybe it was Luffy, or maybe his brain caught up with his ego. Maybe it was so he didn't disappoint Whitebeard or his crew. Maybe it was you. You didn't know, and you might not ever know. Because he was alive, yes, but it wasn't impossible for that to change, according to Law. And the fact that you still have hope but know that it could be in vain, that also made you furious.

So you stayed. You sat there, staring at his form, the wraps covering his body making him look like a mummy. You stayed, listening to his faint and abnormal breathing. You stayed, praying to whatever higher being their was that he woke up. That he survived. Because you'll be damned before if you didn't get a chance to tell him how angry you were with him. He has almost left you, just like that. Sailing away is one thing, dying is another. He wasn't allowed to die. He had promised that he wouldn't.

You were angry that he had spent his whole life thinking he wasn't loved or able to be, when you had spent your whole life loving him. More than a friend, more than a partner in crime, more than two kids who had a lot in common (including shit dad's). You were angry with yourself for never telling him, too.

You finally moved when Law came into the room, telling you that you really needed to speak to Luffy, now. Something about his look told you he was right, and your body actually let you move.

Hugging the boy you considered family was a relief, and you were close to crying into his bandaged shoulder as he hugged back. You didn't want to let go, didn't know if you could hold it together if you did. But after a few minutes, you heard him utter words that reignited your rage.

You saw the fear an most of the Heart crew when you pulled away, fire in your eyes. You saw how each one of them stepped back as if you were a bomb ready to blow. You didn't care, simply looking from Rayleigh to Luffy and back. Luffy knew the look in your eyes, and returned it with a serious one. That alone is what made you pause.

"Why?" You whispered.

"Ace almost died, he still might. I...I couldn't protect him..couldn't protect you. I have to get stronger, for you, for Ace, for the crew. If I'm ever gonna survive the New World, I have to be...better."

You wanted to argue, wanted to make him stay. 2 years? You didn't want that. But you knew Luffy, knew his determination was strong, and his desire to protect his loved ones was even stronger. So you just hugged him again.

"I swear, Luffy, you better be safe. I don't know what that weirdo is gonna have you do, but please just, try not to get hurt." You said in his ear, feeling him nod as a response. You understood, really, but that wouldn't stop you from worrying.

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It had been a few weeks since you said goodbye to Luffy. You were staying with Law, not having anywhere to go for 2 years, and since Ace still needed to be cared for, it only made sense. But everyday he didn't wake up, your hope waned. Law noticed this, offering to teach you more medical stuff or training you to fight better just to give you something to do. Both things helped, for a few hours. But at the end of the day, you returned to that cold room, and returned to watching his motionless body, the only thing telling you he was alive being the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Your anger was still there, yes, but it has lessened over time. At this point, you only held onto it because it made the hurt of everything that happened a little more bearable. It helped to talk to him, even if he couldn't hear. You confessed your anger, your worry, your pain, and your love. Getting it out, even if you were practically talking to yourself, helped you cope.

Which was good, considering he didn't wake up for an entire year.

He was in a coma for a year. His outside wounds, the small ones, healed. But there was still a large scar on his chest that would always twin with Luffy's. But he was slowly, slowly getting better, according to Law. And that gave you more hope, despite how long you waited.

And as you prepared yourself for another year of no change, you were surprised when Bepo enthusiastically approached you as you were returning to the polar tang, after spending the day on an island to gather supplies. It took a moment for your brain to process the animals words, but as soon as they did, you dropped everything.

"He woke up!"

You rushed onboard the submarine, pushing past everyone to get to that familiar room. But you froze inside the doorway. All you could see was Law, standing over Ace and talking lightly. You could barely hear his voice as he replied. It was cracked, and slow, clear that he was gathering himself after not speaking or being awake for so long.

You remained frozen until Law, who somehow knew you were there, slowly moves out of the way, revealing Ace to you once more. You had gotten so used to his 'sleeping' state, that it shocked you even more when you met his eyes.

They were dazed and tired, which was perfectly understandable. But they lit up at the sight of you, something you immediately noticed. It made you tear up as you forced your body to move closer. Law silently left the room.

Neither you nor Ace broke the silence, or eye contact. It felt like a dream, to be staring into his eyes, his beautiful eyes, once again. A dream you had for a year straight. At that thought, you did break from his gaze, your eyes running down the rest of his body in assessment, as if he grew new wounds just from waking up.

"You gonna keep checking..me out..?" He spoke gruffly, a small smirk on his face. The tears fell from your eyes instantly, and you dropped to your knees beside his bed.

"You stupid, dumb, beautiful idiot. You left me sitting here alone, for an entire year. A year of not knowing if you'd ever wake up. And the first thing you say to me is that?" you spoke through sobs, a laugh making its way through as well. You laid your head on his arm, feeling him slowly lift his other one to pat your head as you cried onto him.

"m'sorry angel...I..don't remember everything yet but...ink-dude told me a bit.." he spoke slowly. you could tell the words were hard for his throat to let out.

"Law. He's that captain of this ship." You informed through another teary laugh, lifting your head from his arm and instead grabbing his hand in yours. "don't push yourself right now. It's honestly probably best if you..don't remember everything for a little. You still need rest."

He used his free hand to rub your cheek, wiping away some of the tears still slowly rolling down your face.

"too..pretty to..cry" you heard him mumble. His eyes looked sad. You could guess why.

"You're too pretty to die. Remember that next time." you joked slightly, smiling at him. You were happy, so so happy, that he was actually awake now. Right now, that outweighed everything else.

He chuckled, coughing right after. You gave him a glass of water, holding his head to help him drink. When he was done, he laid it back down and closed his eyes for a moment. You stroked his hair, admiring him. Sure, he had his eyes closed for a year, but this was different.

His eyes fluttered open, and he gave you a smile.

"I heard ya...you know.."

Your brows furrowed. You thought he couldn't hear.

"You heard me every time?"

"I don't...think so...all I remember is...you talking about stopping for...medical gloves...and saying you love me."

Your eyes widen, and you freeze once again. That had been that very morning, before you left to get supplies. You did tell him you love him every day though, feeling like you'd regret it if you didn't. But you were okay with doing that when you thought he couldn't hear. Now that he had, you were nervous.

"I uh..I didn't...um.." You stuttered. He chuckled lightly, gripping your hand again.

"It's okay, angel...I..I'm sorry, about..this..about everything...but I need...need you to know that...I love you too." He confessed, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss the back of it. Tears came to your eyes again, along with a smile, and you closed your eyes resting your forehead against his.

For the first time in over a year, you weren't angry or scared. You were at peace.

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masterlist

[cherrixpie]

DINNER AND DIATRIBES

double feature: part a - part b

-> not only is mattheo too late to ask you out to the yule ball, you're going with harry potter of all people. now, his best friend is going to the ball with his nemesis and he has some feelings about it.

-> mattheo riddle x bsf! reader; part a; sfw; wc: 13k; cw: suggestive, mentions of violence; tags: friends to lovers, yule ball setup; again I wasn't able to tag everyone, sorry :(

( masterlist )

There were many who would call Mattheo Riddle crazy. A bloodthirsty maniac, who couldn’t be bothered to feel attachment, or fear, or any normal human emotion for that matter. A psychopath who would snap on a whim and held an iron grip on the school when he wanted to.

But you had never been able to see him the way other people did, never could relate the picture the whispers and rumors painted to the man who was currently breathing down your neck. His nose ran down your skin and you could feel his boredom on your fingertips as he leaned his forehead against the back of your neck. His knee rocked unsteadily under you, making the thigh you had slung over his bounce up and down almost indiscernibly in return.

“Have you heard that Susan Bones is going with one of our house?” asked Pansy through the chatter surrounding you, widening her eyes dramatically. “Susan Bones. And a Slytherin. Merlin, I didn’t think I’d see the day, they must have the same freaky kinks or something to make that match work.”

Blaise’s laughter echoed off the stone walls of the dungeons. The Slytherin common room was painted in its usual emerald glow. It flickered across the tapestry showing scenes of a medieval wedding tonight. Only after spending more time with Pansy and the boys in your fifth year, and after weeks of hanging around with them in their common room, had you noticed that the tapestry kept changing its motif and scenery. Low chatter and conversation filled the space as groups of students were huddled around couches or desks, studying or talking, some of them reading by themselves. It wasn’t as busy as your common room, nor was it as loud, and you quite enjoyed the calmer atmosphere.

You sat comfortably on Mattheo’s lap, his arm draped lazily around your waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on the fabric of your uniform skirt. It wasn’t unusual- your friendship with you-know-who’s son was quite affectionate, filled with easy touches and stolen warmth, a silent understanding of physical proximity neither of you ever questioned. But tonight, something felt different. His grip was a little tighter, his body a little tenser beneath yours, his usual sharp, sarcastic remarks replaced with a brooding silence as the others discussed the upcoming Yule Ball.

“I think I’d say yes to Diggory, if he asked,” Pansy mused, twirling a strand of dark hair between her fingers and quirking an evil little smirk at Blaise’s frown. “He’s got that whole golden-boy thing going on.”

Mattheo scoffed under his breath and you felt the brush of puffed-out air tingling the skin of your neck, his hand tightening slightly on your hip. “Golden-boy thing is just another way of saying boring.” His tone was clipped, disinterested, but you could still feel the way his legs bounced slightly beneath you, a tell-tale sign of his agitation. He’d been in a foul mood all day, propelling anyone near him or passing him in the corridors into a constant state of nervousness and vigilance.

As you thought back, you guessed his bad mood must have started back when Professor McGonnagall had announced the ball, halfway into december, and you felt your lips twitch at the thought that Mattheo Riddle might shy away from a dance. You shifted slightly in his lap, turning to look at him with a raised brow. “What’s got your robes in a twist?” you teased brazenly, delivering a playful nudge to his shoulder.

But instead of smirking back at you like he usually would, he simply huffed, gaze flickering away. “I just don’t see why any of you care so much,” he muttered. “It’s just a bloody dance.”

“And you call me a spoilsport,” huffed Theo next to the two of you, balancing a book in his lap. His eyes met yours and his lips curled into a mocking smile as they flickered back to Mattheo. Theo and you were probably his best friends- as well as the only ones who would ever tell him off for something. For good reason. Because the two of you were also, with high probability, the only ones Mattheo would never seriously hurt.

“Shut it, Nott,” mumbled Mattheo warningly and Theo shrugged, turning a page in his book.

Your body was still turned to Mattheo when Draco’s drawling voice spoke up. He was lounging in the best seat by the fire with an air of superiority. “I don’t know about you all,” he said uppishly, “But I already have a date for the Ball.”

“Really?” Pansy asked in surprise and shot up from where she was leaning against Blaise. Her eyes glinted at the prospect of being the first one to receive the newest gossip. Half the reason she was so excited for the Yule Ball had to be watching all the drama unfold. Having a front-row seat and sipping her red wine when the screaming matches and tearful breakups would start.

“Who are you going with?” asked Enzo, interested, from his place at the far end of the couch. He himself had already gotten three invitations to the Ball that day, all from very flustered looking, younger girls, and had to decline all of them with an apologetic smile, later complaining about it to his friends. And of course, you had all diligently listened to his woes before smacking him over the head with a pillow for being such a damn loverboy. And watching him shuffle his curls back into place.

“Daphne,” revealed Draco in a superior tone, watching his nails in feigned disinterest.

But Pansy sucked a loud breath in through her lips and gripped Blaises thigh so hard he let out a low noise of complaint. She ignored him, a predatory smile on his face. “Did you ask her or did she ask you?”

“Does that matter?” scoffed Draco lazily, but there was a very faint tint of pink on his pale cheeks. His displeased frown flickered over Pansy, Enzo, Blaise and you as you all started laughing. Mumbling something indiscernible, he pretended to be interested in the tapestry above, making Pansy bend forward with giggles.

“What about you, Pans?” you asked when she had calmed down and slumped back into Blaise, your eyes wandering back and forth between them. “Do you already know who you’re going with?”

With a secretive smile, Pansy shrugged but splayed a thigh over Blaise’s leg. Her manicured nails traced a line up his knee as she winked at you. “Who knows?” Her eyes flickered between you and the disgruntled looking Mattheo currently resting his chin on your shoulder and glaring into the emerald fire. “What about you?”

At the question, Mattheo’s hold on your waist stiffened. His fingers, that had been drawing lazy circles on your hip, suddenly stilled, pressing just a fraction harder into the fabric of your skirt. On your shoulder, you felt his jaw tense, a muscle ticking as he shifted slightly beneath you, his leg bouncing once more before he forced it to stop. Though he kept his gaze trained on the fire, his grip on you didn’t falter.

Normally, he held you like this when he had to somehow ground himself, threatening to lose himself in a whirlwind of anger and stress, moments before either jumping another student or being dragged off by you or Theo. But there was no one here that might have attracted his hate, and your brows scrunched up in a frown he couldn’t see. Anyone else might’ve missed the way his fingers flexed or how his breath grew just slightly uneven, but you felt it- every small, quiet reaction that betrayed his indifference.

Something about this Ball seemed to agitate him, and you placed a warm hand on his thigh to draw careful circles on it, in the hopes of appeasing whatever it was that fueled his bitter temperament.

“No plans,” you answered, as casually as possible. In truth, you had been hoping for Mattheo to ask you ever since the announcement. You had had a giant crush on him for months now, one that you sometimes thought he reciprocated, when his touch would grow a little to intimate, his face inch a little too close, his dark promises a little too sincere to be considered platonic. This was the downside to your rather touchy friendship, the fact that there was no clear line to cross, that you could never be sure.

Holding onto hope, you’d declined Harry’s invitation a few days before, still dreaming that he could feel the same about you, as Pansy constantly assured you. But if he didn’t ask you today… Glancing back at him carefully, you only caught half his face in your field of vision, but it showed no emotion. It was still hardened with the earlier tension, not a muscle twitching, not even a small look back at you.

Enzo leaned forwards slightly, propping his arms up on his knees and giving you a sly grin. “I heard Pucey’s thinking about asking you,” he insinuated, brows wiggling suggestively.

Before you could answer, Mattheo’s voices sounded against your neck, his chin still propped up on your shoulder. “Pucey can go fuck himself.” It was a low, dangerous sound and the group fell silent for a few seconds.

Something like excitement curled into your stomach, until you realized with a pang of disappointment that Mattheo’s disapproval of Pucey reached far deeper than some Ball. He was always raving and raging about him when he returned from his Quidditch practices, and made you card your hands through his curls until he considered himself appeased. Naturally, he wouldn’t want one of his best friends going out with his least favorite housemate. Naturally. Platonically. Disappointingly.

Pansy was the first one to speak again, the grin had found its way back onto her face as she turned to you once more. “So, that’s the verdict then, love? No secret admirers to swipe you away to the night of your life?”

She jiggled her brows suggestively, biting down on her bottom lip in a not so subtle way that made you chuckle and shake your head at her. Raising your hands in mock surrender, you leaned back into Mattheo whose chest seemed to be rising and falling a bit faster as he glared at Pansy. “No secret admirers that I know of.”

A low scoff sounded behind you, as Mattheo seemed much more eager to join the conversation than during the last half hour. “They wouldn’t be very secret if they knew what was good for them.”

Merlin, sometimes you wished he would talk more like your friend and less like… well, whatever this was. But his brows were furrowed so beautifully you could barely think about the implications of his words, or the way Pansy shrunk back instinctively at the look he was giving her, fingers curling around your thigh. Otherwise, you’d surely have scolded him for scowling at her like that.

Blaise hummed, rubbing circles on Pansy’s back and giving you a sly look. “You should go with someone … unexpected,” he suggested, mocking a thoughtful tone and expression, “Shake things up, y’know? Maybe you could release Enzo from his misery. Gryffindor Miss perfect with a Slytherin pureblood, story writes itself, doesn’t it?” You could hear his voice was meant to provoke, just who you weren’t sure. Because you merely laughed at the clearly unserious idea.

But over the amused look you shared with Pansy, you missed the way Enzo widened panicked eyes at Blaise as if he’d just thrown him under the bus, as well as the way Mattheo pulled you depper into his lap. You followed the urge subconsciously and leaned your head against his, still grinning. “Someone shocking, you say?” you picked up his statement, careful not to be too obvious, “Like who? Apart from poor Enzo, I mean.”

“Not fucking Pucey, that’s for sure,” said Mattheo under his breath and you bit down on your tongue, swallowing your disappointment. Pansy threw you a knowing look that you pretended not to see. You were being absolutely ridiculous.

A long, dramatically exasperated sigh came from the armchair near the fire were Draco was still sprawled out, toying with a loose strand of the leather cushions. “You could always go with Mattheo,” he suggested what you hadn’t had the guts to- quite ironic though it was; and ran his eyes over your intertwined figures. “Since you two can’t seem to spend five minutes apart anyway.”

In an attempt to overplay your flusteredness that he had brought it up, just said it out loud, while you were seated in Mattheo’s lap no less and one of his hands dipped under your shirt to bury itself in the meat of your tummy, you chuckled and scratched the back of your neck. Craning your head around, you smiled humorously at your friend. “What, and boost his ego even more?”

For the first time in a while, an actual grin finally played around his lips again as he kneaded the flesh of your belly, throwing you a challenging look. “You love my ego.”

Because one couldn’t simply lie to Mattheo without him knowing, you turned away with a laugh instead of answering his question. Joining in, Pansy watched the outline of Mattheo’s fingers against your shirt and smirked. Her glance back up at him was a silent promise not to let the topic go so easily, and he rolled his eyes at her behind your back.

“You do have standards, right?” asked Blaise lazily, passing around a bar of dark chocolate and shuffling around on the sofa to put his head in Pansy’s lap, who raised her brow but didn’t throw him off. Instead, she returned her attention to you.

“You should definitely go with someone who can actually dance,” she said, smirking.

You nudged Mattheo in the side, not catching the look in his eyes as they snapped up to your bright face. “So, not Mattheo then?”

Suddenly, his body seemed on alert again, no longer leaning against the cushions as his lips seemed to hover somewhere near your ear. If it was any indication, his breath fanned your earlobe and you had to suppress a shiver as his voice sounded low, next to your ear. “You don’t even know what I can do, sweetheart.”

Ah. Sweetheart. Damn the way your insides were curling with the way the nickname rolled off his tongue so smoothly. Mattheo had tried out many of those before settling on sweetheart, for some reason. You had loved every single one, from doll to darling to princess, but for some reason, Mattheo had decided that sweetheart was around to stay. So, now you were his sweetheart. In any sense but the literal one.

“Well,” said Enzo, carefully examining Mattheo, as if gauging if he was in a mood to be reasoned with. Not that he had to worry, Enzo was probably the fastest runner out of your friend group, always the least likely to get in trouble for a brawl or altercation because he was the first who disappeared from the scene of the crime, even before the teachers showed up, keeping him his prefect’s badge. “I heard something through the grapevine the other day-”

You believed to know what was coming now and your eyes widened as you shook your head at him. But Pansy leaned forwards eagerly, ignoring Blaise’s protests. “Go on!”

“Ah,” said Enzo, clearly deriving some sort of pleasure from having everyone hang onto his every word. “You see, some little birdie told me you had been asked out by Potter.”

Closing your eyes, you let the round of jeers and whistles that swept the others wash over you and buried your face in your hands, burning with embarrassment. When you looked up again, you met the eyes of five attentive listeners, eager to hear your side of the story. Even Theo had marked his page with an index finger and raised a brow at you expectantly. Only Mattheo was eerily still beneath you, his fingers having halted all movement.

“How do you get all this information?” you asked Enzo incredulously, rubbing the back of your neck again and trying to deflect from the fact he had just dropped- knowing nothing would fulfill your friends’ curiosity but your explanation.

“I have my sources,” said Enzo secretively and tapped his fingers against each other, watching you over them. “And it seems like they’re reliable.”

“You’re not- you know- going with him?” asked Pansy in an almost disgusted voice and you frowned at her. “I declined. But even if I didn’t, what would be wrong with that? He’s my friend after all.”

Your friends fell silent, probably swallowing down a round of insult they would gladly chat about once you were gone. Thinking of which, your eyes snapped to the clock above the fireplace and you jolted a bit when you saw the time. Before Pansy could open her mouth to ask you another question, you interrupted her. “Alright, this has been fun, but I’m leaving before this conversation gets worse- or before Filch starts patrolling the corridors.”

As you shifted to get up from his lap, Mattheo’s arm around your waist tightened instinctively, his fingers pressing into your side just enough to make you hesitate. You pushed against his chest lightly, but he didn’t budge, his grip lazy yet firm- like he wasn’t quite ready to let you go. Or, perhaps, punishing you, for being asked out by Harry.

“Mattheo,” you murmured, half amused, half embarrassed because all your friends were watching with teasing eyes and matching grins.

But he only smirked, his dark eyes flickering up to yours with a glint of something unreadable. “What?” he drawled, feigning innocence even as his hold on you lingered, burning against your skin. It took another small shove- this time with a bit more force behind it- for him to finally release you, his hands dragging down your sides as you slipped free, leaving behind a warmth that made your skin tingle even long after you stood.

“Yeah,” said Theo slowly, tapping his fingers against the back of his book as his eyes lingered on Mattheo, who was now looking at you in a way that made it quite difficult for you to move your feet in the right direction- and steadily at that. “You better go before Mattheo combusts.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes at Theo, though his gaze was still firmly locked on you. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to ruin the fun.”

With a light-hearted giggle, you pushed past the sofas and armchairs and waved them goodbye, earning a round of “Good night”s and “Have fun with the lions” in return. As your figure disappeared in the common room entrance, Mattheo's eyes lingered on the wall sealing itself again, as if you were still standing there.

“Well, that was painful,” commented Theo, leaning back against the cushions and glancing over at his best mate. “Watching you struggling not to show how much you care who she goes with.”

“I don’t,” the other lied, knowing it was in vain when he saw the devilish smirk spread on Pansy’s face. “You know, for someone who doesn’t care,” she emphasized the last words sarcastically, “you sure grabbed her like she was yours.”

You were. Feeling annoyed at the lot of them and knowing he would be subjected to a great deal of teasing until Theo’s desire for a smoke reached the level of his, Mattheo leaned back against the couch and rolled his eyes, trying not to focus his mind on the memory of you flush against him- right where he liked you best. “She was already sitting there. What, you wanted me to throw her off?,” he snarled back, glaring at one of the portraits to avoid Pansy’s raised brows. When it came to affairs of romance, she was surprisingly sharp. No wonder she seemed to know how much he fucking adored you.

Next to him, Theo coughed a false, ironic cough and Mattheo knew he couldn’t expect any support from that side either. “Mate, your hand was on her hip like you were staking a claim,” Theo drawled, giving him a smug look that Mattheo returned, unimpressed. “You want me to put my hand on your hip instead?”

“Dios mio, no,” replied Theo under his breath, reopening his book but still actively listening to the conversation unfolding.

Again, it was Pansy who broke the silence with a daring grin, crooking her head at Mattheo. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re mad she hasn’t asked you to the ball yet.”

Mattheo deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, yeah, Pans. I’m devastated.”

“You know,” Enzo piqued up now, smiling casually in the knowledge that he was on the winning side in this. “If you asked her nicely, maybe she’d go out with you.”

Leaning forwards, Mattheo gave him a sardonic smile, sneering, “Oh right.” His tone was mocking, exaggerated. “‘Please, love of my life, light of my existence, will you attend the stupidest event of the year with me?'” He did his best to sound nonchalant, as if the mere idea of asking you out on a date was absurd and not the subject of his more innocent daydreams.

But irony could only do so much to conceal how much he really meant the words, how they opened the door to a path to his deepest, darkest desires that he would rather not open right now. No, he preferred to visit those darker corridors of his sacreligious existence when he was alone, in his dorm, shame and excitement curling in his chest as he imagined you how he could never have you. Where nobody could see just how much you meant to him.

Draco let out a scoff from his place by the fire and everyone turned towards him instead. “Imagine if she said yes to Potter,” he said, expression morphing into one of disgust. “Imagine them slow dancing.” Mattheo, who knew exactly what purpose hid behind those carefully chosen words, couldn’t help but tightening his jaw at the idea, the image. If he hadn’t hated Potter enough already, the idea itself would have done it.

“Imagine me hexing you into next week,” he growled at Malfoym who fell silent immediately, but earned himself an appraising nod from Pansy.

“What if she actually did go with Potter though?” Blaise pried further, smirking up at him from where his head rested in Pansy’s lap.

Mattheo felt his patience undeniably tested, fingers flexing against his tense legs as one of them started to bounce restlessly. Merlin, how he could have smashed Blaise’s stupid, grinning face into this stupid, grinning portrait to make them both stop mocking him. But that would prove all of them right, and maybe he didn’t even want to admit to himself how much the image bothered him, how much it made him want to storm up to Gryffindor tower to eliminate the threat himself. “Then Hogwarts would need a new chosen one,” he gruffed out, voice low as his fingers itched for a cigarette.

The topic of you and your friendship had been one of great interest these past few months, ever since it had become normal for you to rest on each other's lap, run your fingers through each other's hair or sleep over in each other’s dorm. It had raised more than a few eyebrows, but Mattheo had always smirked them away, relishing in showing you off. This loose but ever-present claim he had on you, that made him feel perfectly entitled to stare down any boy you crossed when walking through the halls with him, it had been enough for him.

Up until now, it seemed. When they had gotten brazen enough to think that they could dare ask out his girl. Only that you weren’t, he had to remind himself. No matter how often he touched you, it wouldn’t make you his, properly, until he worked up the courage to ask you. But there was just one problem: himself. And the danger he put you in by making you something more than a friend.

“What makes you think I even want to go out with her?” he asked roughly, brows scrunched up in a bitter frown and aching for something to soothe his nerves. You would have been ideal, but alas, you were gone and he needed another, a lesser fix. When he glanced up, he was met with four pairs of raised brows, as his friends all stared at him incredulously.

“Mate,” said Enzo in a voice that suggested he was trying to reason with him. “You just had her in your lap. You glare at any guy who even looks at her. You beat up Zacharias Smith when he stood her up so bad he had to spend the holiday in St. Mungos, and the only reason you weren’t charged with something was because you literally threatened to kill him if he spoke to someone about it.”

Mattheo glowered at the ground, conflicting emotions clawing at his chest, desperate for release. He felt it again. The whirlwind of his own self, all-consuming, unstoppable, but by the your touch, the sound of your voice. When he felt like he was hovering with one foot over the abyss, threatening to be swept up by the confusing storm raging against the confines of his body, you were the only one able to reach him, reach out to him, calm his whirling thoughts, his flaring temper.

No wonder Enzo always ran for you whenever it looked like he was about to start a fight. He knew how utterly disarmed he was when you looked at him with those pretty wide eyes of yours. How your worry extinguished any and all rage inside him, making something else entirely pulse in his chest.

“Can’t I be a good friend?” he asked, sarcastically. But he knew the charade wasn’t fooling anyone anymore. Hell, it was not even fooling himself.

Pansy’s voice sounded surprisingly genuine, the teasing, though still present, taking a backseat to a hesitant reaching out. “Well, I think she would like you better as her boyfriend.”

Not wanting to even acknowledge the sincerity of the words, allow himself to think of the real possibility, get his damn hopes up only to get them squashed down again, he sniggered mockingly at her, a contemptuous smile dancing around his lips. Detached. “Well, I think she would have given some sort of indicator or signal if she felt that way.”

A stunned silence followed as all of them, even Theo, seemed completely taken aback. Pansy and Blaise shared an is he actually being serious right now sort of look and Enzo blinked, perplexedly, at his friend. All of them, completely stupefied with the blatant ignorance of the both of you. They had taken you to be oblivious because of some vague romantic insecurity, but Mattheo could usually be trusted to be quite observant, especially when it came down to you. His friends tended to tease him for being so much of a guard dog, having developed some kind of sixth sense for boys looking at you with greedy eyes and how he would press a quick goodbye kiss to your temple before excusing himself to go and sort them out.

But here he was, being so utterly oblivious to the way you clearly reciprocated his affections- how you would barely manage to conceal your blushing, how your eyes would linger on him, how you would stare at him lovingly when lost in thought, how he would always be your very first priority, how you would drop everything you were doing to come help him, even if it was about something some would consider utterly meaningless.

But alas, his ignorance seemed to match yours, and they had to sit and watch, growing ever more frustrated with the way you pined and yearned for each other without ever getting a fucking move on.

Theo was the first to break the silence, brow raised at Mattheo who still stubbornly glared at te ground. “So, what’s the plan? Keep glaring at every guy who looks at her until she magically realizes you’re in love with her?”

He had dropped the magic word. the l-word, that would never make it past Mattheo’s lips and could barely enter his thoughts, as if it was a trigger. Any time he heard it, he cringed involuntarily. But he was too tired of this day and this damn converssation to correct him. “Worked out so far,” he shrugged.

Theo rolled his eyes at him, and from the way his fingers twitched agitatedly against the bookcase, Mattheo knew he was just as eager for a smoke as him, meaning he would provide him with a way out of this fucking therapy session in under five minutes. The guy was just as addicted to nicotine as he was. “And how would you feel about it if someone asks her out tomorrow who she wouldn't be so quick to decline. How would you feel about it when she turns up to the ball with someone other than you?”

Nothing, was what he meant to say. But the words didn’t make it past his lips. They were chocked by the image of you, hanging onto another guy’s arm, laughing for another guy, dancing with another guy. Something dangerous coiled in his stomach, like a snake, ready to attack but with no one to sink its teeth into but himself.

“Fucking hell,” he cursed darkly, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles were plain white, close to cracking, or so it seemed to him.

Theo nodded appreciatively, rising from his seat as Mattheo followed, running a calloused and shaky hand over his face. “You know what to do then.”

When you pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady, you were greeted with a warmth both the Slytherin common room and the halls of Hogwarts had been missing. Loud chattering and laughter filled the room, the figures of many Gryffindor students in the golden hue of the cackling fireplaces. Where Slytherin’s common room was undeniably more stylish and sophisticated, your common room was just cozy.

You spotted your friends sitting by the fire, having snatched the best sofa for themselves. Hermoine seemed to be working on an essay, Ginny’s nose was buried in her book, and over the rim of the worn out cushions, you spotted the heads of Harry and Ron, setting on the carpeted floor between sofa and fireplace. Walking over to them, you let your bag down with a thud that made some of them turn their heads and smile in greeting, though you could see the light frowns on some of their faces.

They were equally as unpleased about your friendship with their Slytherin peers as they were about your Gryffindor housemates. Really, it was only natural, seeing as the two groups had a history of picking petty fights with each other and landing the others in the hospital wing. At least some of them held their frustration with the others back for the quidditch pitch, but the same couldn’t be said for all of them.

But your friends’ disapproival of your Slytherin friendgroup was nothing compared to their objection to your attachment to Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort himslef and Harry’s personal nemesis since first grade. Not only were they among the students whispering about his reputation and dark legacy behind his back, Harry (and Ron) had also been on the receiving end of Mattheo's fists before- and hit back.

As you sat down between Hermoine and Ginny on the couch, you saw that Harry and Ron were sitting on the carpet, facing each other, a board of wizard chess in between them. The game seemed to have been going on for a while already, as a larger pile of defeated white figures and a smaller one of black figures lay by the side of the board. Harry seemed to be losing, as anyone would, against Ron. Watching Ron make a clever move against him, you lamented that you would love to see him play with Theo- it would certainly be a battle for the ages.

Ron looked up from the game when you got comfortable in the squishy cushions of the worn-out sofa and his eyes ran over you for a second, as if checking for injuries. “How was the snakepit?” he asked, and though it was humorous, his voice held an underlying tension.

“Anyone bite you?” asked Ginny from behind the shitty romance book she was currently hate-reading, a teasing tone evident in her voice. Out of all of them, Ginny was probably the most chill about your ties to the Slytherins, as she herself didn’t give much of a shit about house rivalries. “Anyone you’d want to bite you?” she added, making you huff out a small laugh under your breath.

“I am unharmed, thank you,” you said, a bit curtly at the condescending tone of Ron’s question. Just as it was with your Slytherin friends, you’d always defend your ties to the other group when they talked shit about each other- in the full knowledge that it would never change anything, and they would just keep hating each other.

When Mattheo had suggested you shouldn't waste your breath trying to stand up for your friends when their hostility ran too deep to ever be dismantled, you had asked if he’d say that about you defending him in front of your friends too. Thinking back to his taken-aback expression, you had to suppress a smile. Mattheo had never again tried to convince you not to stick up for your friends, but when you'd slept over at his dorm a few nights later, he’d asked you if you had been serious about defending him to your friends. He hadn’t looked at you, but you had heard the vulnerability in every gruff grumble of his tone.

Hermoine’s matter of fact voice drew your attention back to the situation at hand. “Did he finally ask you?” she inquired, scratching a loudly purring crokshanks behind the ear.

You knew what she was talking about, of course, and averted your eyes. Concealing your disappointment, you pretended to be interested in Harry's and Ron's game, where Ron now checkmated Harry, making him groan loudly. “No,” you answered in your best impression of indifference.

Harry, who had not been paying attention to the conversation due to his humiliating defeat, finally admitted his loss and turned his attention to the couch. “y/n?” he addressed you, chiming in, and you raised your brows at him inquiringly. Wringing his hands, he seemed a little embarrassed. “So… remember when I asked you about being my date for the Yule Ball?”

“Vividly,” you answered, nodding.

In fact, you did. In this very same common room, at about one in the morning, he’d called back to you when you’d made your way back up the stairs to the girl's dormitories. Due to procrastinating your homework of the last week, you had been staying up to complete several essays, with only him as your company. Being the Quidditch team captain and assigned the duties coming along with the position, he’d been behind his course work as well until the last embers of the fire had burned down. In the total darkness, he’d asked you to come with him to the yule ball- as a friend, of course. But you had declined the offer, still foolishly hoping that Mattheo might put his money where his mouth was and ask you out instead.

Harry rubbed his neck, sounding just as embarrassed as that night. “Yeah, well, I still kind of don’t really have a date yet ...”

General laughter took over the group at his red-faced confession. Next to you, Ginny giggled, shifting her concentration back onto her book, as Hermoine shook her head with a little smile. “Absolutely pathetic, mate,” commented Ron, collecting the chess figures and board to store them back in one of the shelves beside the fireplace.

“Hey,” said Harry indignantly, raising his brows at him, “you had to get asked by Hermoine because you didn’t have the balls to ask her herself!” More laughter followed his words and you clutched your sides, glancing over at Hermoine who was chuckling to herself as her eyes skimmed the parchment for any errors she might have missed. “He does have a point," she smiled.

Ron groaned at her, as if she had just delivered a brutal stab to his back, and let himself fall back onto the carpet as the laughter subsided. When he was done grinning at Ron’s humiliation, Harry turned back to you in a business-like manner. “Alright, I’ll be asking you one last time before i accept my fate as the sad, date-less guy for the night.”

His words reminded you that you, too, were among the last people to not have a date for the night, probably in the entire school. Pretty much all of your friends already had partners, and really, it wasn’t only true that you were Harry’s last resort, he was also yours, since Mattheo didn’t seem remotely interested in the idea of taking you out for the ball.

“And that would be different from the usual how?” Ginny asked with raised brows, still not looking up from her book.

“You’re not helping, Ginny,” Harry deadpanned at her before turning back to you, a pleading look in his eyes. “Look. You don’t have a date. I don’t have a date. And, speaking for myself here, if I don’t find one, McGonnagall might force me to take Mrs. Norris out of pity.”

The thought made you break out into a fit of giggles, picturing Harry dancing with the caretaker’s grumpy cat. Ron, who seemed to feel a similar way, grinned. “Now that’s a mental image I didn’t need.”

“Mrs. Norris in a tiny gown…,” said Ginny dreamily, turning a page in her book and making Harry roll his eyes at his friends’ antics.

Feigneing support, you patted his shoulder and offered empathetic, constructive advice. “Why not take Filch himself while you’re at it? I’m sure he’s a great dancer.”

Harry rubbed at his temples and shook his head at the round of laughter that followed your words. “Okay, so, moving on-,” he turned his gaze back to you, serious once more. “You are my best option.”

“Flattering, Harry,” you joked, “And they say chivalry is dead.” Smiling, you averted your eyes to think properly and instead focused them upon crookshanks who was striding towards you on the couch. You started to pet him, earning a mechanical sort of purr from the old cat, as you contemplated the situation.

“Listen,” said Harry, dragging himself on the carpet in your direction. “It’s a good pitch. We’ll go as friends, no pressure, no drama, no expectations- just two people avoiding being total losers together.”

Crookshanks began purring with more enthusiasm as you scratched him behind the ears, hesitating. “I mean… I guess?” It wasn’t like he didn’t have a point. Turning up alone would be less than favorable, especially since all your friends had dates for the night, except Harry. Honestly, you’d probably spend most of the night with him anyway, due to that fact. Might as well make it official.

The scratching of Hermpoine’s quill next to you had stopped as she looked at you over the rim of her parchment. “You guess?” she asked, eyes narrowed. You shrugged, instead of relaying the lengthy explanation for your hesitation. In spite of what Pansy constantly tried to convince you off, you were quite sure by now that Mattheo wasn’t going to ask you- which was fine. Really. It was absolutely fine with you. Except for the part where it wasn’t at all.

Maybe it was because Pansy had gotten your hopes up about this. Any time you had expressed your doubts about your friendship with Mattheo to her, she’d roll her eyes at you and tell you all sorts of things: how he’d been responsible for McLaggen’s unlucky incident that sent him to St Mungos after he had stood you up, how he would look at you with, as she put it, ‘a disgustingly lovesick stare’, how he would always find ways to bring you up in conversation when you weren’t around, his mind floating back to you regardless of the context, either stating or guessing what your opinion might be on the matter.

‘Honestly,’ she’d say, ‘That boy is so in love with you it’s embarrassing to sit next to. Like, truly appalling. And even worse to sit by while he always cops out of asking you out officially.’

But either way, whether what she was saying was true or a misguided guess, or a kind lie, you were quite sure he wouldn’t be making a move before Christmas. Did you really want to turn up without a date and watch him spend the night with some other girl dangling from his arm? He had enough of them at his disposal, in spite of his parentage or reputation. And, really, if he was doing these things in spite of your blatant signaling, in spite of being so weirdly territorial over you, you might as well go out with a guy that would tickle his nerves. See how he felt about that. As his arch-nemesis, Harry would certainly be ideal in that regard.

“You wanted Riddle to ask you, didn't you?” Hermoine’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, her gaze knowing as it rested on you.

You felt caught and sat up a little straighter. “...no.” Curse your denial to come out so hesitantly. But really, she was right. There had been nothing you had been more excited for than the possibility of going out with your best friend, back when the yule ball had been announced. And now, this.

Ron pointed an accusatory finger at you, frowning. “That was the least convincing no I’ve ever heard.”

Meanwhile, Ginny was giggling away at your side. “You so did,” she called your bluff and patted your leg in false pity.

With a long, desperate groan, you buried your face in your hands. “Ugh, shut up, please!”

But Ginny, still laughing, only marked her page with a bookmark and threw it aside onto a nearby table to turn her whole attention to you. “Merlin, this is so much better than my book!”

To quell all of their teasing at once - you could see Ron opening his mouth to add to your embarrassment and even Hermoine seemed to have something to say as she put away her parchment - you lifted your head from the palms of your hands and raised them to bring about silence. However, only your next words could get their attention. “Alright, alright, sure!” you called, face burning, “I’ll go with you, Harry.”

Whistling loudly, Ron earned himself a stern glare from Hermoine. When she had silenced his appreciative teasing, she turned to you, slightly frowning now. Meanwhile, Harry fisted the air, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “You won’t regret it, I promise. I’ll be the best fake date you’ve ever had.”

These words did manage to make your lips twitch into a small smile. “That is not a very high bar, Harry.”

Still frowning worriedly, Hermoine, ever the voice of reason, leaned towards you and placed a hand on your leg. “You don’t have to say yes just because Harry is desperate, you know that, right?”

“Wow, thanks, Hermoine,” said Harry sarcastically from the side, but she ignored him. Hoping to calm her worries, you smiled at her.

If you were being truthful, you would admit that this wasn’t a purely altruistic move on your part. Actually, you were hoping for some benefit to come out of this arrangement for you, as well. Maybe you could finally figure out if Mattheo felt anything more for you than friendship, if you forced his hand by going with his biggest rival. But you would rather have Harry and the others think you were just doing your friend a favor, a far more noble motivation than these darker intentions.

But Ginny seemed to see right through you. “Oh, come on. We all know you’re just saying yes to make Riddle jealous,” she blatantly called you out, earning herself a round of chuckles as the blood rushed to your face.

“That’s not-” you lied, a blushing and embarrassed mess and probably very obvious. You had never been that good at lying, and at least Mattheo said that he appreciated it, being surrounded with a group of friends who were just as good at lying as seeing through the lies of others. That he felt less like he had to watch his every step with you. He liked your openness, and he found your blushing adorable, always pinching your cheeks when you did and only worsening your situation most of the time.

Ginny curled with laughter at your feeble attempts to hide your true attention. “It totally is, who are you trying to convince here?” she asked, amusedly and you breathed a long sigh. Why did all this have to be so complicated? Feelings and people and dances.

But at least Harry seemed to take mercy on you, which was the least he could do after you’d given into his desperate pleas. “Alright, it’s settled then,” he sounded over Ginny’s laughter, giving you a trusted smile, “You and me- two best mates, going to the ball together. No weirdness.”

“No weirdness,” you repeated, quite thankful.

But Ginny quirked a teasing brow at you. “Except for when Riddle inevitably loses his mind over it." The idea ignited a spark of hope in you that you immediately felt bad for. Of course you didn’t want to make Harry a pawn in your game- but it may have been a sacrifice you were willing to make. However, you certainly didn’t want to put him at risk of spending time in the hospital wing or anything. Which was not that far-fetched of a worry.

“Not my problem,” shrugged Harry at Ginny’s words and you bit down on your lip. “It might be.”

Your words had been but a quiet mutter, but Ginny picked up on them and grinned at you with an expression that eerily reminded you of Pansy at the prospect of some juicy new drama. “On a scale of one to absolute insanity, how bad do you think he’s gonna take it?”

Sighing deeply and wringing your hands in your lap, you gave her a sheepish look, trying not to glance at Harry when you said, “I’m hoping for mild irritation.”

Ginny’s eyebrows shot up until they almost reached her hairline. Harry, too, seemed quite skeptical, as he leaned against the couch and frowned up at you. “And expecting?”

A small smile tugged at your lips, but you weren’t in a mood for joking. “...Something between homicide and setting the entire venue on fire,” you replied, hesitantly but probably as a more realistic estimation of the prospects. Regardless of whether or not Mattheo liked you, he surely didn’t take kindly to any boy getting, in his opinion, too close to you-especially not the Chosen One, whom he’d been pitted against since the first time he’d set foot on the doorstep of the castle.

“So, about a nine?” asked Ron, chuckling, and making the rest of you laugh again. It resoilved some of the tension that had been lingering in the air, the knowledge of a looming confrontation. Leaning over to you with faux secrecy, Ron said, “Just don’t come crying to us when he inevitably drags you into some dark corridor for a dramatic argument.”

“She’s hoping for that,” smirked Ginny, rolling her eyes- if at you or at her brother, you weren’t sure. Honestly, both of you deserved it.

Suddenly, Harry stood up from the carpet and straightened out his shirt, grinning dowm at you. Again, he had a business-like air about him. “Alright, if we’re doing this. we’re doing it properly.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, chuckling at his sudden enthusiasm.

Harry tipped an imaginary hat. “If i have to face the wrath of Mattheo Riddle, I at least want to look good while doing it” All of you chuckled at his determination and Ginny whistled. “Now, that’s the spirit.”

The first day of the holidays brought the first proper snow of the winter. Overnight, the snowflakes had danced quietly onto the earth and had turned the castle grounds into a fairytale landscape. The dark forest was no longer a black but a white mass, somehow less threatening and more inviting. But who would have felt the desire to disappear into the trees when the castle was buzzing with warmth and christmas joy?

The excitement for the yule ball especially was apparent everywhere, as students stood in the courtyard, huddled together in groups against the cold, and discussed dress robes and hairstyles for the next day's evening. A blanket of snow lay thick upon the stone gargoyles as you passed them, trotting behind Harry and Ron with Hermoine by your side. Your crunching steps left footprints in the white, glistening layer as you listened to Harry and Ron how much cake they would need for the afterparty in the common room.

Reaching the protection of the castle wall, you stood together, shielded against the sharp winter winds, as Ron started to change the topic to the amounts of firewhiskey they could smuggle in. “The thing is,” he said with a fervor you could rarely spot with him in class-related situations. “The Slytherins have the best connections to the hogshead, so we had a bit of trouble even finding someone who would give us hard liquor. We tried pretending to be McGonnagall to trick Madam Rosmerta into sending some up to the castle, but I don’t think it worked because she didn’t answer our owl.”

“Have you considered to pass yourself off as a teacher a bit more… relaxed than Professor McGonnagall?,” you suggested, looking from Harry to Ron with an amused expression.

“She’s the only professor who’s writing I could mimic,” said Harry, shrugging. “You have connections in Slytherin, right? Maybe you could get us some firewhiskey.” Hermoine murmured something like a reasonable objection into her scarf, but there was a lenient glinting in her eyes when she looked at Ron, who suddenly seemed hopeful at the idea. For once, not overly critical of your other friendships.

“Nah,” you said, deriving a certain satisfaction from seeing their hopeful expressions crumble. “Get your own connections. I’m not catching shit from McGonnagall for being responsible for your alcoholism.”

“Says the one with the nicotine addicted whatever he is to you,” said Hermoine, arms crossed tightly over her chest for warmth, with a smile and you huffed out an amused chuckle, your breath swirling in transcendent forms in the air before mingling with theirs and fading.

“But you bring up a good point,” said Harry, “The real question is: how would we even get all of it past McGonnagall and up to Gryffindor tower? I mean, we could use the invisibility cloak, but-”

Abruptly, he fell silent, and just the split of a second later did you realize the reason why, when the familiar smell of cigarettes and leather alerted you, with pin-point accuracy, who the culprit of Harry’s sudden discontinuation was. A shadow loomed over the four of you, huddled into your corner, and the easy atmosphere shattered like glass. You did not need him to speak to know who it was.

“Mind if I steal her for a moment?”

Mattheo’s voice was low, edged with amusement, but laced with something else as well, something unreadable. Ron and Hermoine whipped around, sharply, at the sound of his voice, Ron stepping in front of her slightly, as if on instinct. However, you turned only reluctantly, already aware who you’d find standing there, but not knowing whether you were keen on talking to him and revealing the inevitable bomb that might set him off.

Mattheo was leaning against the castle wall, mere feet from you. His dark eyes flickered over your friends with a lazy kind of scrutiny, lips twitching when he caught the way Hermoine’s posture stiffened and Ron’s expression darkened. His gaze lingered on Harry for half a second longer than necessary. Harry straightened slightly, shoulders squaring, and shifted as if to protest, but before he could speak, Mattheo cut him off with an easy smirk and a tilt of his head. “Relax, Potter, I won’t bite.” His gaze flickered back to you, locking onto yours as his smirk shifted into something more… deliberate. “Unless you ask nicely.”

He extended a hand- not touching you, just gesturing you forward, but the implication was clear. The moment seemed to stretch, a thick tension settling in the chilly air, before you stepped away from the wall, brushing a bit of snow off your sleeve. Behind you, Hermoine let out a barely audible sound of disapproval, Ron muttered something, in all likelihood, rude under his breath and Harry shifted slightly in your field of vision, as if he wanted to step in. But you threw them a pleading look not to make a thing out of it and walked over to Mattheo’s side, raising your brows at him in silent inquiry.

His eyes studied your expression, before he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you away. With a last little smile to your friends, you told them goodbye and walked away with him, not registering the slow, smug glance Mattheo gave them over his shoulder as he turned with you towards the entrance.

But the castle didn’t seem to be his desired destination. Instead, he led you down the flight of stairs connecting the courtyard and the greenhouses, all the while silent. You stocked it up to his bad mood. In truth, it was nervosity.

Mattheo had been rolling it around in his head all night, ever since he’d watched you leave the common room last night, Theo's dark suggestion still ringing in his ears, the cursed images of you with Potter, of all people, still haunting him. He’d already given Pucey his piece of mind about him considering to ask you out, but he knew you would mind - a lot - if he had a go at Harry that was so clearly provocated by himself. Knowing you wouldn’t forgive him too easily if he rearranged Potter’s face just a few days before christmas, and considering the massive truthbomb that was the fact that he, in actuality, held no claim over you. Yet.

Finally, after staring at the ceiling stubbornly for a good few hours, making his way through what was left of his last pack of cigarettes and not getting a minute of sleep, he’d finally not only worked up the courage, but also the words to finally, finally ask. But now, as he led you down the icy stairs, vigilant you wouldn’t trip, both the nerve and the ability to articulate himself seemed to have left him. Maybe he should have gotten some sleep before this after all. Or consumed anything other than black coffee and nicotine before approaching you to ask you- possibly the only question that really mattered.

When you reached the greenhouses, he leaned against one of the glass walls, fogged up against the cold, hands buried in his coat pockets. Feeling nervous, you moved to stand on the bit of snow-covered grass in front of him, sneaking glances up at him, his furrowed brows, his clenched jaw. “So,” he said slowly, as if weighing every word, “About the ball.”

“Oh,” you made, swallowing. With a nervous little nod, you wrung your frost-bitten hands and looked up into his brown eyes, so beautiful against the cold white sky. They were surprisingly calm, given the news you thought would enrage him. Maybe it didn’t matter to him after all. “So you heard, then?”

But Mattheo tilted his head, incredulously. “Heard what, exactly?” Oh shit. Perplexedly, you blinked up at him, having assumed he would have heard by now through Enzo’s miraculous grapevines, and that that was the reason he had wanted a chat. “...that I’m going with Harry.”

Mattheo stilled, expression faltering for just a second before his jaw clenched- tight. His eyes, usually gleanming with lazy humour, darkened as they locked onto yours, the look in them almost making you take a step back before you could get your instincts back under control. “Potter?” he said, his voice deceptively calm, but you could see the way his fingers flexed, as if suppressing a sudden urge to clench them into fists. His tongue ran over his teeth, exhaling sharply through his nose like he was trying to reel himself in.

Mattheo felt the words hit im like a slap, over and over again. That I’m going with Harry. I’m going with Harry. I’m going with Harry. They twisted something inside him, and it hurt, though he’d rather die than let it show. Potter. Out of all the people in this godforsaken castle, it had to be him. His jaw was locked as he forced himself to keep his expression neutral, but he could feel the tightness in his chest, the way his fingers flexed and twitched with the urge to grab you- to shake some sense into you.

You tilted your head and looked up at him with those nervous, pretty eyes of yours, an unsure, hesitant smile playing around your lips. “What other Harrys could I possibly be referring to?” you asked, in a feeble attempt to bring some humour into the situation, light up his face that was grim and tight, as if in shadow.

Mattheo wanted to laugh, to show you how utterly unaffected he was by this news, and at the same time, he burned to throw out some sharp, cutting remark about how predictable it was, how you must have lost your damn mind. But the words felt heavy in his throat. Because it was a perfectly sane decision. Going out with Potter was probably way more sensible than going out with him.

Instead, he leaned back slightly, rolling his shoulders as if the news didn't settle like lead in his stomach. “Didn’t know you were into charity work now,” he drawled, voice deceptively smooth, but there was a cutting edge to it, a sharpness that wasn’t usually there- or rather, was usually directed at everyone but you.

“You’re really going with that bastard?” he asked, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. Not even looking into your eyes could calm the storm raging inside him now, as it spread through every fibre of his body, balled in his chest, reached the tips of his fingers as they almost shook with suppressed rage. Now, they were just a reminder of what he couldn’t have.

Of course you’d go with Potter, why would you have even considered him? When people were already whispering behind your back about you and your friendship with him, calling you names and giving you looks, calling you a house traitor and shallow or two-faced, the irony not even occurring to them. But Merlin, how he hated, how he detested, how he loathed that Harry was, sensibly, a better option for you than he would ever be.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, shaking his head slightly, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. He shouldn't even care. Since when had he let people get to him like this? But you weren't just anyone. You were you. You were his. And then again, you weren’t. And he shouldn’t be feeling this burning frustration curling in his chest, shouldn’t feel the itch in his fingers to grab your wrist and tell you to drop the whole fucking thing. But he did. And that pissed him off even more.

“He asked me as a friend,” you said, feeling the need to clarify. Why you had thought it would calm the storm raging in his eyes, you didn’t know, as a dry, sarcastic laugh fell from his lips, missing his usual casual teasing tone. “Oh, of course. Just friends.”

Your clueless frown only fueled his anger and he clicked his tongue impatient at you, taking some sick enjoyment in the way his glare made you recoil slightly. “Never taken you as naive before, sweetheart.” When he usually whispered the nickname, it was a flirty drawl, and accompanied by a teasing smirk, or just a casual, rare smile. Now, he spat it out, barely containing his frustration. But he wasn’t the only one irked by the other.

“Mattheo, I adore you,” you said firmly, frowning up at him, “But just because you’ve got a hidden motive behind everything doesn’t mean he has.” Trying to think of the right words, you bit down on your lower lip. “He just…”

“...didn’t find anyone as nice as you to take pity on him?” Mattheo finished your sentence, his brows raised with dry humor. You could tell he was trying to push your buttons now, deflecting from his own emotions by trying to get yours up, in an attempt to get the upper hand. Because with him, everything had to be a fight, a struggle, a confrontation.

Refusing to let him get to you, you crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him coolly. “Maybe I said yes because he actually asked me.”

Unexpectedly, his detached demeanor seemed to crack for just a second. Something shifted in his expression, flickering -or falling- before he got his features back under control. “Huh,” he made, and you were treated to the rare sight of Mattheo Riddle running out of words. His lips twitched grimly, brows furrowed.

Trying to stop him thinking of some sarcastic, meticulous provocation, you took a step towards him, your breath puffing in the air. “Yeah. Huh.”

Finally, an ironic smile forced itself upon his face, it almost seemed to pain him, as the way his nails dug into his palms had to. “So, you’re gonna spend the whole night batting your eyelashes at Mr. Gryffindor Golden Boy then?”

“Why do you care?” you asked quickly, trying to catch him off guard. Your eyes zeroed in on every twitch of his expression, looking for tell-tale signs- as he surely was, too. Was it platonic protectiveness and his disdain for his rival, Harry, or could it be jealousy? His eyes met yours, fiercely, his intense stare piercing you, and though your heart skipped a beat, you held his gaze, determined not to back down.

Mattheo leaned in slightly, getting close to your face with a mocking smile dancing around his lips. “I don’t,” he said with biting sarcasm. “I wish you the best of times with Potter.”

Scoffing, you averted your eyes. His proximity was suffocating, it was confusing, a round of sparks dancing in the pit of your stomach, so unlike the butterflies people always talked about. No, your love for him was explosive, it was brimming with glimmering tension, threatening to turn into a wildwire, expanding until it consumed you whole. And you’d burn gladly as long as you burned in his hold. “No, you don’t” you contered, looking back up to find him looking at you with such hunger in his brown eyes.

Mattheo grinned grimly, clicking his tongue in a way that could have drove you into a craze. “You’re right. Hope you trip in those ridiculous heels Pansy will make you wear.”

Pretending to be annoyed, you huffed out a long breath, caught somewhere in between amusement and exasperation. “You have no right to be mad, Mattheo.”

For a moment, the only sound between you was the distant howl of the wind in the courtyard archways above, the faint echo of laughter carried down to the greenhouses by the breeze as the truth of your words hung in the tense air between you. Mattheo was watching you, his jaw tight, his lips curved into that infuriating smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You could see it- how his amusement was forced, how something far more volatile simmered beneath the surface. His words from a second ago still hung between you, sharp-edged and taunting. “Who says I’m mad?”

Without thinking, you reached up, fingers curling around his jaw, your palm warm against the biting cold of his skin. His breath hitched- so soft, so fleeting you almost missed it- but his entire body went rigid, as if the contact had struck him like a spell. His dark eyes, always so unreadable, widened just slightly, caught between surprise and something else. You tilted his chin up just enough to meet his gaze fully, your thumb brushing over the sharp edge of his jaw, and then, with a voice quiet but unwavering, you murmured, “Your face.”

With a whiplash-inducing speed, his demeanor changed, his smirk turning seductive as he leaned into your touch, a disarming glint in his chocolate brown eyes. “And you’d no all about that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

It was unfair. He knew exactly how to tickle your nerves, and just when you’d thought you’d won the struggle for the upper hand, he flipped a card like this, completely taking you aback. The heat of your stomach seemed to rush into your cheeks and you glared at him, at the knowing look in his eyes. There was a reason he was in Slytherin. But there was also a reason you were in Gryffindor.

“I'll see you tomorrow at the ball,” you scoffed, frustrated, let go of his face and took a step back. You knew looking at him might make you turn back to either kiss or slap him, so you turned around sharply and stormed up the stairs back to the courtyard. He didn't follow you, but you could feel the burning piercing of his stare resting on your back.

Pansy’s dorm was alive with the flicker of enchanted candlelight, the air thick with the mingling scents of your perfumes, hairspray and the faintest trace of Pansy’s expensive vanilla-sandalwood lotion. You stood before her full-length mirror, smoothing your hands over the flowing green fabric of your dress as Pansy, perched on the edge of the bed, tilted her head in assessment. “Honey, you look absolutely gorgeous,” she concluded, rising from the bed to walk over to you and arrange the dress in areas.

Her's was already wrapped around her figure, complementing her curves. You tugged at the neckline of yours, unsure of how much cleavage you were showing. In the shop, it had somehow seemed less risque, though it had still been more than you would usually be comfortable with. “Are you sure?”

Halting her prodding movements and tugs, Pansy straightened up and rested her head on your shoulder, smirking at you through the mirror with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Am I sure you look gorgeous or that Mattheo will like it?”

The blush that shot up into your cheeks would have made any rouge unnecessary. “Pansy!” you hissed, glaring at her, but she only laughed and lifted her head from your shoulder to turn you away from the mirror and to her, for further inspection.

“Don’t worry,” she said, for once with a sincere look on her face and a warm smile gracing her lips. “He will fall in love with you all over again and beat Potter to death before he can even get a hand onto your waist.” Her eyes glinted. “At least after I’m done with your hair.”

In spite of her reassuring words, you let your critical eyes wander over your figure in the mirror as Pansy sat you down on a chair. Her fingers carded into your hair, brushing it out and parting it into sections as she got to work on pinning it up in elegant ways. Brows furrowed in concentration, her fingers worked as if she’d done it a million times before. You scanned her frowning face in the mirror's reflection, rolling her words over in your mind. Pansy was one of your best friends, she wouldn’t lie to you, but-

“Pans?” you asked into the quiet, making her hum in response and raise her brows at you. You opened your mouth, lips parted to beg for further reassurance- but you closed them again, swallowing. It wasn’t like they would convince you, not after having heard her constant encourages for months and never truly having believed them. Or had you? Was it the reason you were so disappointed about Mattheo not asking you out, like you felt you could expect it of him after all Pansy had told you? “Thanks,” you finally said.

Your defeated tone seemed to catch her attention as her eyes snapped up to meet yours in the mirror’s reflection. She frowned. “You know, for someone who’s got a date tonight, you don’t look very excited.”

“I am excited,” you lied, giving her a tense little smile she saw right through.

With raised brows, she got back to putting your hair up with a mix of barrettes, hairspray, and magic. “Mhm, try saying that again without sounding like you’re in mourning.” With a promising little smile, she nudged your shoulder. “I promise you the evening will still get rather exciting for you, even if Potter’s a bore.”

You sighed, unable to hold onto the words any longer as your hands clasped in your lap. “You always try to convince me that he likes me,” you said, without saying the name you were trying to avoid, because it was such a sinful pleasure to let it flow off your tongue, like a kid mumbling a curse word under the protection of its blanket, just to try out the sound of it. A forbidden sound, the promise of freedom. Why was it so hard to say his name, after you’d said it so many times these past few months? In scolding tones, in warning tones, in teasing tones, in affectionate tones. Most of the times, it was the latter- most of the time, he returned your name in the same way.

As you thought of the right way to express the confusion you felt over his actions, Pansy waited, sielntly, and delivered the last, finishing touches to your hair. “If he likes me, why didn’t he ask me?” you finally asked, simple enough.

The question made her sigh and roll her eyes as her perfectly manicured hands clasped down on your thinly clad shoulders. “Because he’s an idiot and a coward. Just like you. Don’t tell him I said that.” You returned her encouraging smile, though still feeling rather pessimistic. Pansy patted your shoulder. “Honestly, since when has Mattheo known to handle his feelings?”

“Fair point,” you sighed, as she released you and walked over to her desk, to her other mirror, displaying her makeup on the surface. As she started to put hers on, you opened your bag as well and got out what you needed, making sure to get none on your dress. For a few minutes, you worked in silent concentration, the quiet only broken by laughter and shouts from the Slytherin common room.

Because she’d insisted on helping you with your hair, you’d agreed to get ready with Pansy in her dorm on the big evening. You had been here for an hour, chatting, trying on each other’s dresses, flipping through magazines for hair and makeup inspiration. Now, it was only an hour until the start of the ball, and the excitement that brimmed in the whole castle even reached the Slytherin dorms in the dungeons. When you’d hurried through it with Pansy, the common room had been devoid of its usual calm and had rather reminded you of the Gryffindor common room on a rowdy saturday, with students mingling and mixing, chatting in excited voices, their anticipation barely contained behind their Slytherin coolness.

Pansy’s voice cut through your meandering thoughts, snapping you back to reality as you started to apply mascara. “When did you tell him, anyway? That you’re going with Potter?”

“Yesterday,” you answered, leaning forward to examine your work in detail. “Why?”

Even through her distant reflection in the mirror, you could distinctly make out her sudden smirk, pulling at her now full and red looking lips. “Oh, nothing,” she warbled innocently, though she looked as if she’d just unraveled a particularly thrilling christmas present. Her glinting eyes locking on your expression as she closed the lid on her lipstick was like a mouse trap snapping shut. “Just… Have I mentioned Mattheo has been a complete nightmare since yesterday?”

You paused mid lipgloss application to meet her eyes through the mirror, her words sinking in and coiling in the pit of your stomach. “...What?” you asked, trying not to sound too eager for her to expand on these seductive words.

Pansy grinned, turning to her mirror to deliver some last finishing touches to her face. “Oh, darling. He’s livid.”

“Why would he be livid?” you asked, frowning, getting back to your lipgloss. “It’s not like he cares.”

Pansy’s mock gasp told you she was not at all convinced by your reasoning- nor fooled by the false indifference in your voice. But she gave into your silent need for answers anyway, a knowing smile on her lips. “Oh, sure, that’s why he nearly hexed Enzo for breathing too loudly this morning.” She corrected the blend of her eyeshadow, enjoying the effect her words had on you. “Honestly, I should be mad at you for causing such an unbearable mood in our common room, but it’s just too entertaining.”

“I didn’t cause anything,” you deflected grumpily, glaring at your own reflection as if it were him, trying to convince yourself, trying not to let Pansy get your hopes up again and, at the same time, yearning for something to grasp onto. “Whatever’s got to him, I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with me.”

Making an unconvinced sound, Pans angled her face differently to admire it in different lighting. “Tell that to the poor first-year who had a nervous breakdown yesterday when Mattheo snapped at him for existing.”

“What?” you snapped sharply, frown deepening. Unfazed, Pansy rose from her seat and walked over to you, swaying her hips as she met your eyes in the mirror. You sighed at the grin on her face, getting back to applying your makeup. “He can be mad all he wants, it doesn’t change the facts.” Right. It changed nothing. You shouldn’t even care.

Pansy raised her perfectly lined brows at your attempts to seem indifferent. “Then why are you applying your lipgloss for the third time?” Before you could answer, she grabbed the lipgloss out of your hands, closed it and threw it back into your back. With a pull that left no room for protest, she tugged you up and towards the door. “You look fantastic. Come on, let’s get you out and about so you can meet your Chosen One up at Gryffindor tower.”

As you walked down the steps and stepped into the common room, your heart began to thrum in your chest at the realization that he’d probably be there. That he’d see you. In this dress. For a moment, you wished you’d gotten one with a more modest neckline, but then again, you burned to see his reaction.

It was as if you already felt it on the bottom step, as Pansy urged you into the common room. His presence, and then, the weight of his stare as you spotted him leaning against one of the leather couches beside Theo, dressed in, for once, unsullied dress robes. His gaze locked and you, your figure, and the tension in the air seemed thick enough to choke on.

Mattheo hadn’t even been looking, let alone waiting for you. At least that was what he told himself. But the moment the sound of heels clicking against the stone steps echoed through the common room, his body betrayed him. His fingers, lazily spinning a silver ring around his knuckle, stilled. His jaw clenched. And when he finally glanced up, just like he swore he wouldn’t, it was like taking a hit straight to the ribs.

You were stunning. Not just in the way that made his breath catch, but in the way that made his stomach twist, made something dark coil in his chest. Because you weren’t dressed for him. And yet, his first thought was that you should’ve been. His expression didn’t change, smirk perfectly in place, body draped in his usual lazy confidence- but his grip on his ring tightened, his throat felt dry, and he had to physically stop himself from shifting toward you. He knew the moment your eyes met his, you’d notice something in his stare, something raw, something dangerous. So he looked away first. Just for a second. Just long enough to breathe.

A thrill ran through you when your eyes met his, sharp and electric. He was still lounging in that infuriatingly effortless way, all cocky smirks and feigned disinterest, but you knew better. You saw it—the clench in his jaw, the way his fingers had gone stiff around that damn silver ring. The way his gaze flickered, just barely, before snapping back to you like he hadn’t meant to look away at all.

The other boys had now taken notice of your presence as well. Charming compliments rolling off his lips like the finest vinegar, Blaise made his way towards Pansy, who smirked him off and locked her arm with yours, telling him something about just having perfected her look and getting you out of here before someone choked on their own spit. But your eyes were still locked on Mattheo, as if there was a magnetic pull attracting them that rendered you unable to avert your gaze.

Only Pansy’s gentle nudges and tugging moved your feet towards the entrance wall, as if on autopilot, and only her whispered voice as she leaned in could cut through the rushing in your ears. “Alright, what’s the plan for tonight when Mattheo inevitably corners you at the ball?”

Anxious for none of the boys to overhear you, you leaned in closer, muttering, “... Ignore him?”

Pansy scoffed at your suggestion, rolling her eyes with a little smirk. Gently, she nudged your side and lifted her brows at you. “Adorable. Wrong, but adorable.”

You sighed, reaching the entrance to the common room and turning to her for a brief goodbye. You had to physically restrain yourself from looking back at Mattheo, who’s gaze you could feel burning into your skin, a silent dare to look back, walk back, to him. But you wouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter,” you tried to convince yourself more than you tried to convince Pansy. “I’m with Harry tonight. End of story.”

But Pansy seemed unimpressed by your stubborn conviction. A promising smirk graced her lips as she tilted her head towards Mattheo subtly. “Oh, honey. This story is just getting started.”

a/n: stay tuned for part b 🫶 | if anyone would like to get tagged for part b who isn't already in the general or mattheo tag list, leave a comment!

taglist: @lady-peiskos @hazeldunst @juliet-017 @furioussharkcat @onlytenkos @jannie-belaerys @blueflowerpots @whosyourgnomie @revesephemeres @longpondlibrary @aespaslut @s00ty-feet @cosplayboi18 @messageforthesmallestman @iamheretoread1234 @devilsadvcte @jolly4holly @deeplyinlovewithfluffbullshit

[g1rlw1th0n33ye3]

Soft Spot I

Pairing - Emperor Caracalla x Reader ( x eventually Geta)

Word count - 3.4k

Summary- Sometimes, being nice to the wrong person can change your whole life

Warnings- their Roman emperors in 200 AD... so like warning in general but for this chapter metions of enslavment and blood but nothing graphic

It was a hot and windy night upon Palatine Hill, the air thick with the scents of the bustling city below. You lay in your less-than-comfortable bed of straw, the rough fibers scratching against your skin. The all-consuming heat wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. Suddenly, a loud crash shatters the stillness, jerking you from your slumber.

As the kitchen headmistress, you have been granted the privilege of private quarters, if one could truly call it a privilege. Your room was small and cluttered, its walls grimy with the residue of countless meals prepared in the bustling kitchen down the hall. The flickering light of a lone candle cast dancing shadows across the uneven floor.

Despite your title, you were no more happy than any other slave. The weight of expectation lay heavy on your shoulders. Any joy you once found in cooking had been long overshadowed by the responsibility of managing everyone around you. With each meal, you felt the pressure to ensure everything was perfect or fear facing the punishment.

Trapped between the chaos of the demanding patricians and the struggle to maintain order among the other slaves, especially when nobody was ever happy with their assignments. A kitchen master or two has met unfortunate ends in the past at the hands of angry slaves sneaking in during the dead of night to slit their throats and sometimes worse. To avoid such fates, it was simpler to give the head of the kitchen their own room, complete with a lock to keep out vengeful workers who, for some reason, blamed you for their circumstances.

Your job wasn’t so bad despite the constant dirty looks and threats to your life. You had your own quarters, and while most of the female slaves had to attend to the lady patricians upstairs, some of the more unlucky ones were sent to serve the males as concubines. Luckily for you, working in the kitchens kept you far away from any male patricians with wandering hands and bad tempers—or, gods forbid, the Ceasers.  Your days were filled with the clanging of pots and the sizzling of food as you supervised the preparation of meals for the entire palace. It was a demanding job, but it kept you away from the more dangerous parts of the palace.

  You groggily rise from your slumber after hearing another loud clanging. If someone was messing around in the kitchen and they weren’t caught in the act, you would be ultimately blamed for whatever was missing, and as much as you hated having to report it to the master of slaves, if you didn’t, it would be you in their place instead. On Palatine Hill, it was kill or be killed; it was the only way to survive as long as you had.

  Slipping out of bed, you throw on one of the tunics you’ve had for years. It’s falling apart around the sleeves and far too tight around your hips, but it’s the last thing your aunt gave you before she left this world, and you can’t bear to part with it. You slide on your sandals, which are also slowly falling apart, but you need them to avoid the dirt of the lower levels. Before you go, you reach under your mattress to grab the small knife you had stolen from the kitchen years ago and place it up your sleeve using your palm to hold it up and out of view; slaves in the palace weren’t allowed to have any weapons, but in a place like this, were everyone saw fit to just take whatever they wanted you needed something to protect yourself, gods, forbid the noise in the kitchen was an assassin sneaking through the kitchens to get the Ceasers they would have no problem cutting you down to get to the Ceasers and who were you in this palace in this world that anyone would save you over the ceasers.

If it was a guard poking around down there, He would take one look at the knife, and you would be punished or, worse, killed. The guard’s transgressions would be forgotten, all blame being put on you.

You shift the knife further up your tunic, the fear of being caught and swiftly punished haunting your mind as you make your way to the door, trying your best not to make a sound. As you open it, you can still hear the sounds coming from the kitchen as you creep closer, knife held close, the sounds becoming louder. You can almost hear a soft sort of muttering. You silently pray there isn’t more than one person. There was only so much you and the tiny knife you carried could do, and with no sense of training, they’d probably cut you down before you could even draw your blade; perhaps it wasn’t too late to run back to your room and hide till morning punishment be dammed your about to turn around when the gods make your choice for you as your foot makes contact with some chicken bones some fool left in the hall; The loud crunch echoed through the dimly lit hall, cutting through the muffled sounds of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen. Instantly, all noise from that direction ceased, creating an eerie silence.

There was no turning back now; whoever was in the kitchen had to be aware of your presence. With your heart racing, you cautiously crept forward, each step deliberate and silent, straining to catch any hint of movement or sound that might betray their location. The air felt heavy with tension as you navigated the hallway.

As you round the corner and step into the massive kitchens, you brace yourself for the sight of a horde of bandits ready to ambush you. However, to your astonishment, the kitchens are entirely deserted. The large stone hearths, usually crackling with the warmth of a fire and filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread, stand cold and silent. You scan the dimly lit room, each shadow dancing eerily in the flickering light of the few burning candles.

With cautious steps, you traverse the vast expanse of the kitchen, the echo of your footfalls a stark reminder of the absence of life. Large wooden tables, typically cluttered with pots and ingredients, sit untouched, their surfaces coated in a thin layer of dust. Not a single soul is present, and the silence is unnerving, as if the very air holds its breath, waiting for something to happen.

A chill runs down your spine, and you ponder whether the madness that often haunts the ancient castle has decided to linger a little too close for comfort this time.

Worried and restless, you decide it’s best to retrace your steps and head back to your room, hoping the familiar surroundings will soothe your spirit and shield you from the lurking darkness that seems to envelop the palace.

Then suddenly, a strange, quiet mumbling echoes from within the pantry, sending a shiver down your spine. With a shaky hand, you grip the small knife in your palm, readying yourself for whatever awaits you behind the door. Taking a deep breath, you take slow, deliberate steps toward the pantry, your heart racing.

Cautiously, you nudge the door open with your foot, instinctively raising your hands to shield yourself from an unseen threat. However, upon stepping inside, you’re met with an unsettling emptiness—just shadows and the faint scent of aged wood. Doubt creeps in, making you wonder if you are losing your mind.

You scan the space meticulously, eager for any sign of life that could confirm your sanity. As despair sets in, your eyes fall upon something unusual: a pair of golden sandals peeking out from beneath a wooden table laden with assorted cheeses and oils. The table is covered with a cloth, its corners lifting slightly as if disturbed. It becomes clear that someone had been here, perhaps reaching for a small wheel of cheese, shown by the noticeable bite mark taken from it.

You’re about to yell at the slave who has decided to take liberties with the Emperor’s cheese, putting you all at risk. But suddenly, a realization halts you in your tracks: only someone of immense wealth could afford to wear sandals in such immaculate condition.

If the individual below is indeed a Patrician, confronting them could spell disaster for you, as their status comes with considerable power, and they could punish you just for looking them in the eye. On the other hand, it might be just a drunken slave, desperate enough to steal the sandals, willing to risk their life for a mere scrap of cheese.

You find yourself at a crossroads, ready to accept whatever punishment awaits, which will probably be far preferable to some gruesome fate at the hands of a drunken patrician. You begin to resign when a soft sniffle echoes from beneath the table, catching you off guard. You freeze, unsure of how to proceed. Gathering your courage, you lean down slightly, peering into the dim shadows beneath the heavy oak.

“Uhm, excuse me, are you alright?” you venture, your voice barely above a whisper. There is no immediate reply, but you notice the foot, tucked in the expensive shoe, scrunch back as if it has become aware of your presence. Tension fills the air, mingling with the aroma of stale bread and kitchen spices.

“I mean no offense,” you continue, attempting to soften your words, “but this part of the kitchen is meant for the kitchen slaves only. If you need something, I can find a slave to bring it to your rooms.” Your voice carries the weight of concern as you await a response, but only silence lingers.

With hands trembling, you gather your courage and lift the edge of the tablecloth, revealing the cowering figure curled up beneath. He lies in a tight fetal position, body trembling slightly, head buried deep within the shelter of his arms.

A part of you screams to drop the cloth and retreat to the safety of your room, to erase this moment from your memory and pretend it never happened. Yet, no matter how hard you try, your empathy refuses to fade away. The turmoil within him pulls at your heart; despite the anger and resentment that Rome has instilled in you, you can’t bring yourself to feel anything but pity for this broken soul hiding away beneath the fabric.

“C-can I help you? Are you alright?” The figure shifts slightly, and you catch a glimpse of pale blue eyes peering out from behind the table, rimmed with tears that add a shimmering quality to his delicate features. “N-no... nobody can help me,” he responds, his voice quivering as he tries to hide his face from view.

“Perhaps I could try,” you offer gently, your heart aching at the pain reflected in his gaze. “If you tell me what ails you, I might be able to help.” He sniffles, burying his face deeper into the shadowy ground, mumbling something too faint for you to catch.

“I’m sorry, I can’t quite hear you. Maybe if you sat up, I could understand you better,” you say softly, hoping to coax him out from his hiding place beneath the table.

After a moment of hesitation, he begins to unfurl, slowly propping himself up but remaining hunched, his posture reflecting his despair. Now, with his full form visible, you find it impossible to neglect the striking beauty he possesses. His eyes, a haunting pale blue, are still glistening with unshed tears that create streaks against the pale makeup caked over his skin, struggling to conceal his blemishes. His reddish-orange hair, tousled and unkempt, crowns his head, giving him an air of chaotic elegance.

Atop his head rests a crown of laurel leaves, askew and slightly battered, hinting at a position of importance or honor. It’s a stark contrast to the turmoil evident in his countenance. His clothes, rich in fabric and style, suggest wealth far beyond what you could imagine, likely worth more than all the food in the kitchen combined. As he sits there, a beautiful but tragic figure, you can’t help but wonder what events led him to this moment, hiding under the table, burdened by an invisible weight.

You lock eyes with him, his gaze heavy with uncertainty. For a brief moment, it feels as though he’s trying to decipher something hidden within you.  You hesitate, unsure of how to break the silence, hoping he will find the words first.  Yet, he remains transfixed, his expression a blend of confusion and contemplation.

You feel the weight of his gaze shift, his eyes drifting down to focus on your breasts.  A wave of unease washes over you, prompting you to finally speak up before his thoughts take a more dangerous turn.

“Before you said something, dominus, I couldn’t quite hear.” Your words seemed to snap him out of his trance, truly noticing you now before going back to his glossed-over look, seeming to remember his troubles. “You wouldn’t understand,” he whines, putting a pout on his lips.

You let out a chuckle before you could stop yourself. “Oh, um... my deepest apologies, Dominus. I just... I forget myself,” you say, looking down. But it’s too late; he begins pounding his fists into the stone floor.

“See, you’re just like everyone else! They laugh at me! I can hear them all whispering about me. They all think I’m some fool!” he yelled, continuing to beat his knuckles into the concrete. Tears welled up in his eyes; he seemed more sad than angry.

Frightened, you shrunk back, preparing for his anger to turn on you, but he simply continued to beat his knuckles bloody while mumbling to himself.  

Terrified but unwilling to leave the poor man alone to beat his knuckles to the bone, you get up to find something to stop the bleeding. At the sight of you rising, he slows his assault on the stone to watch your movements.  You grab a bottle of vinegar and some cheesecloth before returning to kneel beside him.  He has stopped hitting his knuckles against the ground, his eyes following your every movement.

“Can I help you with that?” you ask, reaching out to take his bloodied hands. He shrinks back, pulling into himself.

“Please, I just want to clean and wrap it. These floors are filthy; they could get infected. We wouldn’t want that, would we?” you whisper, trying to convince him to let his guard down and allow you to help.  At your words, he seems to relax slightly and lets you take his hand.  You give him a small smile, hoping to offer some comfort.

“Alright, this might hurt a bit, but it will only be for a second,” you say as you pour the vinegar on his knuckles.

He winces as the vinger makes contact with his knuckles. You quickly wrap it up before tending to the other hand, his eyes never leaving you. “We’re all set. I’m no professional, but I’ve tended to my fair share of kitchen accidents, and I still have my hands, so that must be a good sign,” you say, trying to lighten the tense mood.

When he suddenly interjects with a playful, “What’s your name?” his voice lingers in the air, laced with a hint of curiosity. He looks at you with a dazed, crooked smile that seems to dance on the edges of his lips, catching you off guard with the abruptness of his question. Despite your surprise, you respond, revealing your name in a soft whisper. His smile widens at your answer, and he chuckles softly, “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

He reaches out, gently entwining a finger around one of your loose locks of hair. The gesture is intimate, almost tender, making your heart quicken. “And you, Dominus, what is your name?” you ask, his eyes sparkling with mischief you had not seen in them before.

“You do not know my name?” he asks incredulously as if the very idea of you being unaware of his identity is the most astonishing thing in this surreal encounter. You shake your head, feeling a hint of embarrassment creep up your cheeks. “No, I’m sorry, Dominus. I’m the headmistress of the kitchen. I don’t ever serve, let alone leave the kitchen. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,” you say, your voice softening as you instinctively bow your head respectfully.

Just as you begin to lower your head, his hands reach out to gently cup your face, stopping you mid-bow. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver through you, and his expression shifts to one you can’t quite place. “I think I like that,” he mumbles more to himself than to you.  You’re too nervous to pull away from his touch and make him feel slighted, but not wanting to spend a moment longer under his heated stare, you decide to try coaxing him out again.

“Would you like to come out now, Dominus?” you say, holding your hand out to him. He waits a moment, staring at your outstretched palm, before removing his hand from your chin to take hold of your hand. You carefully pull him out from beneath the table.

Pulling him to his full height and releasing his hand as quickly as you had grabbed it, he would be intimidating if he weren’t looking around like a lost, confused puppy. “I can’t remember my way out here,” he said, furrowing his brows in a pout as he scanned the area as if trying to recall the path.

“No need to worry, Dominus. I can lead you to the stairwell,” you replied, grabbing a candle from the tabletop to help guide your way through the winding passages. As you began to walk out of the pantry, you turned back to see him standing there with a solemn expression.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, stepping back in front of him.

“Will you walk with me back to my chambers?” he said, grabbing your hand again and holding it to his chest. You almost wanted to cave to those pleading blue eyes, but your logical side knew better. You couldn’t forget the wandering looks he had given earlier. Going anywhere near his chambers would leave you vulnerable. As tormented as he seemed now, you didn’t want to see his mood swing in the other direction.

“I’m sorry, Dominus, but I’ve never left the kitchens; I wouldn’t know the way,” you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. You hope your words will be convincing enough to sway him. He gives you a look that mixes disappointment and confusion, but after a moment, he reluctantly drops his hand from your chest. However, he still holds onto yours, his grip a little tight, as if he doesn’t want to let go just yet.

Taking this as a sign, you gently begin leading him out of the pantry and through the bustling kitchen. The warm scent of freshly baked bread lingers in the air, a stark contrast to the late hour. You move slowly, careful to match your pace with his drunken, staggering movements. As you reach the base of the stairwell that serves as a passage for the servants to come and go.

You try to urge him forward with your hand, but he remains still, his gaze fixated on the archway above. “Everyone up there is mean. I want to stay down here with you,” he pouts, a hint of stubbornness creeping into his voice. You bite your lip, suppressing the urge to chuckle at his childlike demeanor, well aware that laughter might only frustrate him further.

Instead, you smile gently and say, “I promise you, the people down here are just as mean as the ones up there, and it’s quite late, Dominus. You really should get some rest.” You lead him up the creaking stairs to the landing, where soft light spills through the windows, illuminating the worn stone steps.

He pauses, contemplating your words, his brow furrowed in thought. After a moment, he drops your hand, his expression shifting to one of resignation. “Goodbye, pretty girl,” he whispers, a touch of vulnerability in his tone before he begins to shuffle drunkenly back toward his chambers.

As you watch him disappear down the dimly lit corridor, a sense of bittersweet longing washes over you. Once back in your bed, with straws poking you uncomfortably in the back, you realize that you never learned his name. A sigh escapes your lips as you try to shake the thought from your mind, knowing you’ll probably never see him again. You’ve never ventured beyond the kitchens, and for the strange man, this night will likely fade into a blurry memory, just another drunken escapade amidst countless others.

==================================

Authors note ; this is like the second fic Ive written I stopped for a long while but my favorite freaky gingers and all the people writing about them have inspired me to get back to writing and trying to improve my craft so please be kind but constructive criticism welcome! anywho i hope you guys enjoyed this sorta set up chapter I have a whole storyline I want to play out that I haven't really seen in other storys oh and this wont really follow the galditor storyline but I swear if you stick with me I have a plan anyway I enjoy and lemme know if you guys want part two!! or anything you might like to see requests are currently open!

[ingydar-phan]

Lukewarm af and will probably delete but like. They are entertainers. We watch and enjoy them because they entertain us. We buy things they produce because those things bring us enjoyment and comfort. Being a fan ≠ being a mindless zombie who parrots everything they think or do or say. Adobe is a shit company with shit actions. And Dan and Phil absolutely did A Bad by inherently endorsing and promoting them. But what does that mean? Does it mean that every single fan of Dan and Phil now automatically likes and downloads and uses Adobe because Dan and Phil made an ad for them? No. I doubt this promotion will get anyone to start using their products more. Adobe has such a monopoly that everyone already knows what they are, this isn’t like bringing around more awareness of its existence. So sure, you can assign the Character Trait to Dan and Phil that they are now Adobe Endorsers or whatever. But does giving them views, giving them attention, giving them money, help Adobe? Does it promote it? Does it send Adobe money? No. Is anyone out here being like “wow I love this ad 😍 the way they used the software was so cool” ? No. I like them because they’re weird fuckass homotrons not because I agree with 100% of their views. Anyways idk. Me buying a calendar from them isn’t a statement that I support Adobe nor does it provide money to Adobe so who tf cares. The only way to genuinely benefit Adobe from this would be to encourage people to use their software because Dan and Phil did. And nobody is doing that (besides a fuckass article that manipulated their quotes or whatever). Idk idk idk. Like. What material bad comes from liking two random gays that promoted a bad company. A company that everyone already knows about. Dan and Phil can’t single-handedly fix the Adobe monopoly. And like yeah as a third party I can confidently say from across the room that I wouldn’t have accepted the contract if I were them. But I’m not them. So like. Who gives a fuckkk

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best- Jungkook (part 10)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Warning: strong language

Wordcount: 8.5k

Author's note: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Give me your thoughts. I love you all !

P.S : I'm sorry for any mistakes. English is not my first language!

Y/n wasn't always insecure about herself. Early in life she was a lively, extroverted and free spirit person, but life is unfair and unpredictable. Having the trauma of seeing her father abandon her and her mother for another woman, saying she was the reason why he stopped loving and caring for her mom, left something inside her that it was never possible to mend no matter how hard she tried, making her more focused on studies and goals than boys and dating while growing up. For her, love was an illusion and she wouldn’t make the same mistake as her mother. 

Thinking about it now as she heads inside the apartment she shares with Lisa, she never gave anyone an opportunity, but as soon as she saw Jungkook she was drawn to him immediately without any explanation for it. Independence was her thing and she never thought she’d be capable of feeling the way she feels about him right now. Even if that meant that her friendship with Sewoon had to end. 

Looking back she knows Sewoon was never a good friend to her and she deserves better. Despite knowing their personalities were completely different from each other, Y/n accepted her anyway. After all, Sewoon had been her first friend, the first person to defend her when necessary and for that she was truly thankful for her. She also knew a little about her past and even though their priorities were different, they understood each other like that.  

Sewoon wanted to live life, have fun, go out, drink. Everything a teenager is supposed to do. She lost her virginity at 16 to a boy three years older than her who she met at a party. At the time Y/n asked her how was she able to do something so intimate with someone she had only known for a short time. Her best friend replied no one cared about that anymore. Truth to be told, after that she changed. A lot. Maybe that was when they started to drift apart a little bit. Y/n didn't like this change, not when she tried to do the same to her. Sewoon would share her experience regarding sex, how she did it, what she did and how good it felt. She was sexually active and made sure everyone knew about it, bothering Y/n. It was a subject that she didn't feel confident or comfortable talking about, however Sewoon pressured her to go the same path as her and that pissed Y/n off, but she would let it slide.

Maybe that was the main problem, letting it slide too muc. She never thought they would get to the point they are at today and that's sad. Now, Y/n was envious of all the experience she had acquired over the years, because with Jungkook it worked. He was so enthralled by Sewoon's beauty and comfort around guys, not to mention the way she won over boys, the subtle way of touching and talking to them when she tried to conquer them. Honestly, she admired the way she could make people who weren't interested in her focueds on her so quickly. Y/n knew she would never reach her feet in that way.  

Everything that happened today with Jungkook was just one more thing to confuse her. What if she was imagining things? As far as she knows he could flirt like this with everyone else. What if he thought she was easy just because she had feelings for him and he was in need of more than she could give him? She has known him long enough to know he wasn’t part like this but still... One never really knows someone, right? Sewoon is living proof of this.  

Walking in her room, Y/n went to change clothes and do her skin care, she had cried so much during the day that her eyes were swollen. She washed her face with cold water and dried it and putting a facial mask on. It was a very cold night but the moonlight helped to alleviate the darkness outside and she took advantage of being alone to go to the living room with her favourite book in hand, sitting in a chair next to the fireplace. The Y/n from a few days ago would be unable to tell Jungkook how she felt, yet both yesterday and today she had already confessed twice and had even confronted Sewoon. She never thought she would be able to raise her voice the way she did.

She somehow feels that Jungkook came into her life to break down all these walls around her heart with his sweet gaze and magnetic smile. She fell in love with him, but didn't have the courage to admit it (to him or herself), which ended up in her best friend dating him and yet she continued to desire him. Damn, she was so happy to know they had broken up, so she could rekindle her friendship with him and although knowing this was not something a good friend would do, at that moment Y/n doesn’t regret staying close to Jungkook, otherwise the moment they shared today wouldn't have happened at all. For that she also has Lisa to thank. God, she was very upset with her, but she ended up opening a path she never thought she would have with him. 

Suddenly, she heard the main door open, announcing Lisa's arrival. Lisa hadn't even noticed her since when she arrived it was all dark. When Lisa heard a voice calling her in the distance she screamed and now it was Y/n's turn to laugh. Lisa put her hands to her chest and threw her keys at her in protest. 

“You really scared the shit out of me Y/n. What the fuck are you doing with every light turned off? Are you a vampire and I didn’t notice it?” Lisa throws herself on the couch “Huuuuufff finally home! I've never had a day as long as this one. Meetings after meetings, just boring shit. How was your day? Was it a nightmare or a cool one?” Y/n gave a half smile  

"Initially it was shitty, but it ended pretty well" Lisa raised her head and made a suspicious face.  

“That means something did happen. Oh my god, is it Jungkook related?” 

“Yes and no” Lisa was confused. “Last night before going to sleep I sent a text to Sewoon, trying to talk to her about the things I found out on that trip regarding Tae, but she didn't give me an answer so I didn't think much about it anymore. Today, it was almost time for my break when I saw her come in. I told Sana that I was going outside and would be right back, but the conversation didn't go as I expected. She was horrible Lisa, she said tons of shit that affected me a lot. I never met this person before. I saw a person I didn't know existed.” 

“What did she tell you?” Lisa whispered and Y/n lowered her head, sighing. 

“She basically said that she was happy I had disappeared without telling anyone, that the only bad thing was that Jungkook was constantly wanting to know my whereabouts and not even with the pictures she showed him did he calm down. Ohh and that she prayed for news to arrive that something bad had happened to me. She also mentioned that I had stolen Tae from her and that she’d do everything to be with Jungkook, especially since they had already been together a few times, so she had no doubt that he would choose her over me. A bunch of shit.” 

“SHE SAID WHAT? God that girl needs a punch to bring her back to reality I swear the next time I see her I’m gonna end her. Who does she think she is f--” Y/n interrupted her  

“It’s okay Lisa. Actually, I need to thank her. After that, I was so upset that Sana told me to leave, I needed to clear my head and you were working so I decided to take a walk. Somehow, I ended up in front of Jungkook's workplace, he ended up seeing me and went after me and insisted on bringing me home, however, I told him I had to make a stop by La Dolce Perla and we ended up having dinner there. Although things were VERY tense at the beginning, by the end of the night I ended up letting some things out and he didn't judge me or anything, quite the opposite, he kept me calm and respected me. There was something in the air you know? Something that was pulling us closer to each other. We almost kissed” Lisa squealed in excitement but then stopped and made a funny face. 

“So why didn't you?” 

“I - I don’t know... I guess he noticed how nervous I was. We were saying goodbye and then he told me he’d wait for me. I don’t know what kind of waiting was he referring to but somehow that gave me comfort, but I’m not sure it’s a good thing, I mean it gives me hope for a future for us but with Sewoon in the picture I--” 

“Why don’t you talk to him about Sewoon? A real and open conversation where both of you get all the answers to your questions. You guys have a lot of connection, don’t miss that over misunderstandings.” Lisa said while hugging Y/n, excusing herself to get ready for bed. She had a very busy day in her company and she was wrecked. Y/n was tired too, so she went to her bedroom, did her routine and fell asleep, or at least she tried to. 

On the next day Sana wouldn’t be there so she’d be with the new guy. She never got to make a full shift with him and she was curious to see how it’d go. By the time her alarm went off Y/n was wide awake and ready to star her day. She had the weirdest yet the best dream ever. It was about Jungkook and she was enjoying it so much that when she woke up she cursed her neighbor for making so much noise at 08:15 a.m.  

She was going to make a double shift. She hated when her boss asked her favors like these but she really needed the money, that’s what kept her going. Getting there she saw Namjoon cleaning tables. Sana wouldn’t stop gushing over him, how cute he looked or how mature he was for someone his age. Even though Sana didn't have the courage to admit her feelings for him (yet, according to her) there was a palpable chemistry between them. The few moments that Y/n witnessed, made her think about her example, how much she thought she and Jungkook understood each other until Sewoon appeared. The day was passing by very peacefully. Right now there were only two customers so she and Namjoon took the opportunity to get some things done earlier. While at it, they got to know each other better and when they finished what they were doing, they ended up engaging in a deep conversation.

Okay, she had to agree with Sana, he had a great view on life and knew a lot for a 20-year-old. They were so absorbed in their conversation they didn't even notice the arrival of a new customer. Hearing the chirping of a throat in order to draw the attention of the two of them, Y/n was surprised to see Jungkook there with a look she couldn’t describe. Namjoon must have felt the weight of Jungkook’s eyes on him because he used some lame excuse to get out of there as soon as possible, leaving her alone with him.

“Jungkook, hi! I – I wasn't expecting to see you here at this time of the day. Usually you come a little later... Is everything okay?” Jungkook took a whole minute to respond, glancing between her and the door Namjoon had «escaped»

“Yes, everything’s fine. I hmmm- I was around and I-- I know it's almost your lunch time so I passed by to see if you wanted to have lunch with me.” He looks at Namjoon when he sees him walking out with some boxes. “But if you’re busy yo-” 

“Imnotbusyatall” she answered so quickly Jungkook didn’t understand a thing so she had to repeat herself, calmer this time. “Sorry. I meant to say I’m not busy. I have two hours for lunch since I'm working double shifts today. I just wasn’t expecting to see you so... early. I mean, for someone who usually shows up around 9pm, it's quite surprising” She smiled, turning her attention to the door, only to see Namjoon walk in again looking at her and Jungkook. He gave her a thumbs up, she flipped him off surreptitiously. Jungkook, on the other hand, was paying attention to all these actions. He's never seen this guy before, maybe he didn’t pay much attention to him. They seemed to have hit off pretty nice and for some reason he didn't like that at all. 

“I finished the morning session earlier than expected so I Ieft early as well. It's 10 minutes to 1 pm, can I stay here waiting for you or do you think you’ll have problems with that guy?”  

“With Namjoon? Naah, he’s cool. I'll just tell him to come replace me so I can change clothes and we can go. I’ll be right back.” As said, Y/n went to warn Namjoon and went towards the locker room. She left after 5 minutes, seeing Jungkook waiting for her near the exit. Weird, he usually used to wait for her at the counter where she and Sana usually stay, where Namjoon currently is as well.  

“Why are you waiting here? It’s not your normal spot you know? Joon won’t bite you for standing there” Y/n said laughing while approaching Jungkook. Seeing her, he adjusted his coat and smiled, opened the door motioning for her to go through it first, leaving behind her.

“I didn't like him, that's all, so I preferred to wait here. Besides, I didn't want to cause trouble. "

"Why would you cause trouble? It's not like this is the first time you've come in here or waited for me to leave. And what do you mean you didn't like him? Do you know each other by any chance? Where's the Jungkook who says we shouldn't judge a book by it's cover?” Y/n was teasing him and he knew it, answering with a little shut up. About five minutes away down the road there was a small burger place. It wasn't the first time they went there to eat, she loved the burgers there and the space was heaven. When they sat down, the waiter took their order and went to get their drinks, returning two minutes later. They both said thank you, giving some sips on their coca cola’s. Jungkook broke off the silence first.

“So..you and the new guy seemed pretty close. Cool guy hm?”  

“His name is Namjoon and yes we got along quite well. You wanna know a fun fact? it was our first day working together officially. He started when I was on vacation and he’s been doing more day shifts with Sana. But yeah, he’s pretty nice. I was surprised, he’s younger than us but he’s pretty mature for his age and he made me laugh a lot today. It made my double shift a lot easier.” 

“Ohhh”. Jungkook gave a few sips on his drink. “Glad it only took him a few minutes for you to be able to feel comfortable with him. It took me ages for you to look at my face. No one would tell it was your first time working together. You must have really liked him” Was he jealous?

“There’s nothing going on between us if that’s what you’re trying to know.” Jungkook chocked on his drink and tried to look everywhere but her. “We made a great team today but that’s it. He’s not my type. Besides, Sana has a crush on him. I’d never do that to a friend of mine”. Jungkook understood the hint. When he was about so speak, the waiter came with their orders. He waited for him to leave again so he could say what he wanted. 

“I’m sorry” Y/n frowned. 

“Sorry? What for?”

"It was bad of me to come between you and Sewoon. It's a long story and I have to tell you all about it, but at the same time I want to respect your space and time. I should have talked to you as soon as I realized something was going on, but I was confused and--”  Y/n interrupted him.

“Were you happy? While you were with Sewoon I mean. Did she make you feel happy?” For the first time Jungkook didn't know what to answer because he genuinely didn't know. Looking back, he knows he was never in love with her, it was just a momentary thing. He realized this too late and now he’s paying for it. Y/n noticed his discomfort so she changed the subject. “This place is without a doubt the one with the best burgers. This is my second favorite place, I really enjoy coming here and this is sooooo good or maybe it's just me being so hungry.” She said, laughing at her own words. Jungkook laughed too. One of the things he never felt with Sewoon: lightness and tranquility. With her, everything was always a competition and based on image. Very controlled, very fake, very rehearsed.

During their meal, they talked about basic things related to life, work and dreams, ordered dessert and drank coffee. Jungkook paid their meals and even though Y/n refused he didn't listen, telling her to pay next time. When they got outside, Jungkook took out a cigarette and stayed like that, grabbing it. Y/n looked at him with a questioning face. 

"How come I didn’t know you smoked? I mean every time we went out I never noticed. I was so surprised to see you smoking the other day” 

"And you said you hadn't noticed me." He said laughing. "I don't smoke much, usually after coffee or when I'm nervous/anxious. I've always tried not to smoke around you because I know you don't like the smell, so I avoid it." 

"Is that why you haven't lit your cigarette yet?" Jungkook looked at the hand that had the cigarette between his fingers. "Maybe" he said wrinkling his nose, looking at her with those sweet bambi eyes. God help her because she can't stay away from this man much longer. During their way back to her work she expected him to light the cigarette, but at no point did he do so. She even told him that if he needed to smoke to do it, that she didn't have to be an obstacle simply because she didn't like it, to which he replied that there were priorities and at that moment smoking wasn't one of them. She didn't say anything back but Jungkook noticed the blush on her cheeks and the shy smile on her face.  

“I wasn’t happy” Y/n looked at him wondering what he meant by that. He keeps talking. “You asked me if I was happy with Sewoon and my answer is no. Everything was a facade between us and now I can see how dumb I was to call it love. There were no feelings between us, only physical attraction and illusions. I know I messed up bad by getting together with her Y/n and I wish I could take it back. Even though I didn’t know your feelings for me but it was wrong and you have no idea how bad I feel for hurting you, even without meaning to. I’m truly deeply sorry.” Y/n felt so bad for him. It was a mix of emotions and she just wanted to comfort him so she stopped walking, grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her, hugging him tight, whispering

"You're not to blame for anything. If anything I'm to blame because I was the one who didn't speak up." He moved away a little, although they were very close. "We don't control our feelings. It's not your fault that I fell in love with you just as it's not your fault that you felt something for Sewoon, just as I don't blame her for having something with you even though she knew about my feel--” She stopped talking when she saw his shocked face. His face changed drastically when she said Sewoon knew about her feelings, he was angry and you could see it. “Why are you looking at me like that?”  

“Sewoon knew? She knew and you still insisted on pushing her to me?!” He was mad. 

“What was I supposed to do? You’re my best friend and I was afraid of ruining it with you, then you wanted to meet her and I just couldn’t say no. I knew you two were perfect for each other. I- I didn’t want to be selfish- I -” 

“FOR ONCE Y/n. Just for once you should’ve been selfish! Do you have any idea of how hard this has been for me? just to know that you were the one who gave me to her just like that? Was I not enough for you, was that it?” 

“Jungkook, no... Wh- What are you saying? I was the one that wasn’t enough for YOU. That’s why I introduced you to her.” At this point Jungkook had already moved away quite a bit, running his hands through his hair.  

“You were more than enough Y/n. You just didn't bother to face what was in front of you. Why do you want everything to be given to you? Is it really that hard for you to take control of your life for once? You would’ve avoided so many things Y/n. But you know what? I'm glad it was this way, maybe you and I weren't meant to be after all and we’re just realizing this now.” He sighed. “C’mon, I need to go and you have to go work as well. 

The last minutes felt like hours. Y/n hadn't realized how things had gotten to that point, it wasn't possible to understand. She thought it was unfair that he was blaming her for not opening up, even though he was upset, but even so. When they arrived Y/n grabbed his arm once more. 

“Jungkook, you can’t leave like this. You can’t drive being all raged up right now. Talk to me, please. I know I should’ve been more honest about things but I was scared and- and it’s not like you gave me any signs of any feelings either. I wanted you to be happy desp-” he released himself from her grip.

“I did gave you signs Y/n! I fucking did!That's why I'm so messed up. I - The only reason why I approached Sewoon in the first place was to have a reaction from you and to know things I knew I couldn't ask you directly.” It was Y/n’s turn to be shocked. What? “I know you avoid relationships and everything related to boys because you’re scared. If I told you how I felt or what I wanted I was scared you'd run away from me like you always do so I kept giving you signs Y/n but I had no reaction from you at all. I knew who Sewoon was from some pictures on your Instagram so when I challenged you to introduce me to her I was testing waters, however, your indifference remained there. It's not just my fault. I took you on dates and you would dismiss it, saying it was just two best friends hanging out. I left work every day and waited for you every day. In my free time I would come here to keep you company and be close to you while I sketch things that I could easily do at home. I have a cafe in front of my store and yet I’m- Always- Here- You can't be that oblivious Y/n. You were the one to put a label on us every goddamn time! You say you’re in love with me? No Y/n you’re not, otherwise you wouldn’t have given up so damn fast and give me to your best friend like a damn trophy the moment she asked. Hurts to know that I didn't deserve a second thought.” Y/n could only look at him. He looked so damn honest and he was so disappointed in her. There was hurt all over his face and that was killing her. She wanted to say something but she couldn’t so she did what she always does: let him go. 

She shouldn't have let him go. The rest of the day was fulfilled with anxiety and guilt. Every day she discovered new things and every time she thought her and Jungkook were stepping forward, they took five steps back. She was ruining everything good she had ever dreamed of with her cowardice and lack of communication. She should've gone after him, yet pride got the best of her.

Like always. 

After the argument he got in the car and left. At first she tried not to think about it too much, but then she felt the guilt consume her. When she was alone with just a few clients, she sent several texts to Jungkook, apologizing for the way things happened, for them to talk and clear things up once and for all.

No response.

Lisa was going to spend the night out, so once again she found herself alone in that giant apartment. Without thinking she called Jungkook, going straight to voicemail all the six times she tried. The only positive thing was that the next day it'd be her day off and she’d try to talk to Jungkook and clear things up.

Hopefully

The next day Y/n woke up with a huge weight beside her bed. When she opened her eyes she saw Lisa looking at her with a smile from ear to ear.

"Good morning, sunshine. I'm going to do something crazy and I want you to come with me. Hurry up, get even more pretty and let's go. If I’m late and loose my turn I'm going to kill you.”  

That's what consisted being friends with Lisa: waiting for her to wake her up at 9:30 in the morning for something that had popped into her mind out of pure spontaneity was just an example of it. She was adventurous and left nothing undone or unsaid because, according to her, you only live once and she would rather regret what she didn't do than everything she tried and failed at.

That's how at 10 in the morning Y/n found herself in front of the tattoo shop where Jungkook works. The only thing she wanted to do was turn around and leave. Gosh, he's been ignoring her attempts to contact him, how could she just walk in there like nothing was happening? She remembers talking to Lisa about getting tattoos. She never had courage for it, besides, Sewoon would tell her all the time they wouldn't suit her, thus she gave up of the idea. Lisa encouraged her, saying that when she did hers Y/n would do it too, but now, her stomach was churning and it seemed like the only thing that was going to come out was vomit. When they arrived at the entrance Y/n stopped. 

“I can’t go in with you. I’m sorry” 

“What do you mean you can’t? You can’t leave me alone at it. Also, I booked you a session so you have to show up.” Lisa said innocently.  

“You knew Jungkook works here, didn't you? You little bi--” 

“Hey hey hey. There’s no time for that my friend. We're about to get hotter and have something marked on us. Let’s go.” She was fucked.   Lisa linked her arm with her and they walked inside. It was a very peaceful place, with drawings on display, music playing and a diffuser. Of course. Jungkook was addicted to smells and very weird about them too.

The first person they saw was the red-haired lady Y/n had seen close to Jungkook the other day. Seen up close, she was even more stunning. Since Lisa was the one scheduling the session, the red-haired who introduced herself as Athena went to talk to Lisa to see what was she interested in. As she talked to her about the type of tattoo she wanted, presenting some sketches too for her to choose, Y/n looked around, praying she wouldn't see Jungkook while being there. 

“What about you? What kind of design did you think of?” She asked Y/n, giving her a genuine smile. "First time? You don't have to stress about it honey, it's most likely for you not to feel a thing"

“Ohh I didn’t think of anything... You see I was totally caught up on this. I didn't know I was coming so I didn'--- "

“Her idea was to make a semicolon on her wrist. Something simple. Y/n, babe, we talked about this. You’re not gonna chicken out right?” Y/n looked at her friend and her answer shocked herself more than anyone else in the room. “Okay. Yes you’re right Lisa. I’m already here so why not?” Lisa opened her mouth, closing it up immediately, smiling. Change comes with little steps. 

One step at a time

Athena showed Lisa some ideas until she finally chose what she liked the most. She was getting a sternum tattoo and the sketch Athena did was a piece of art, all those lines and details were just too perfect. She then excused herself to pick something up, disappearing for about 2 minutes, that's all it took for disaster to happen. While they were waiting for her to return they saw Jungkook walk through the door with two coffees. As he placed them on a small table in the entrance, Y/n realizes he didn't see them there, at least not until Athena returned to the room and spoke to him, causing him to look up where they were standing.

"Yooh Jkaay I'm glad you got here. Can you finish this design for me? I have these two pretty ladies here and the client will come by later to see if the drawing is ready but there are some parts I'm having trouble getting right, can you help me with this?” As soon as Jungkook looked up, he met Y/n's gaze, which was already focused on him. He had no reaction. “Hey lover boy. I know they’re pretty but I’m kinda waiting for an answer here” 

“Hmmm.. Oh yeah- yes. You can leave it there I’ll be sure to give it a look.” his gaze was intense as it met yours but didn't say anything, as if he didn't know you. Athena thanked him and directed the two of them to a large room. While her friend took her shirt off and laid down on her back, Athena settled everything on the sterilized table. Y/n was inspecting the drawings on the wall, realizing Jungkook's signature on the end of all of them. After placing the artwork where Lisa wanted Athena grabbed the tattoo machine, filling the room with the sounds the needles working and Y/n got scared. She was sure that was gonna hurt. 10 minutes in there's a knock on the door. After Athena replied, Jungkook walked in the room with what Y/n thought was the drawing she asked him to check. 

“This is fantastic Kook. If the idiot doesn't like it I'll have it myself. It's incredible." Jungkook smiled and looked at Y/n and then at Athena again. "This is going to be a lot of work Ath. It's full of details and has such a thin line. You have to be careful not to smudge as you clean it." 

"I know, I hadn't realized that. It's going to be a challenge but it'll look cool on her body. I still have her friend to tattoo but that’s something small and quick.”  Jungkook looked at her way.

“I can do it. I’m free and won’t have any client until noon.” Y/n froze in the moment. No fucking way. 

"I can wait. It's okay, really." Jungkook looked at her, picked up some still-closed material and opened the door. "Come on, I'll take care of it." And for a second, Y/n didn't know how to breathe anymore

Jungkook was waiting for her to follow him. When he noticed she wasn't moving at all he called out for her name again. Unconsciously, Y/n ended up getting up and going after him but she didn't leave without looking at the place Athena and Lisa were, noticing the strange expression Athena made. Had Jungkook ever mentioned her?

He went ahead, taking her to a more private room which was on the first floor. It was quite far from all the other rooms and common area. When they arrived there, he motioned for her to sit in front of what she assumed was Jungkook's desk. There were photos of several people, she doesn’t remember meeting any of them until one got her attention: it was a picture of Jungkook and Sewoon together. He was wearing white and she was wearing a black dress. She remembers this day very well- It was in the beginning of their relationship and Sewoon was having a party with her agency and Jungkook was her date, they were both so pretty and cuddly and looked so into each other. Jungkook was treating her like a princess and it was the first time Y/n felt anger towards her best friend. She cried all night after getting home, spying Sewoon's instagram and all the love-dovey pics she was posting. What a night

He sat on the chair in front of Y/n, behind his desk to sketch what she wanted to tattoo when he noticed where her eyes were wandering at, grabbing the picture and putting it in a drawer. She didn’t say anything, looking everywhere but him. 

“According to Athena you wanted just a simple semicolon on your wrist, right? So I did sketch want you wanted but added something more. If you don’t like it or want it you can say it and I'll do just what you initially wanted okay?” Jungkook showed her a design of a semicolon with a butterfly wing around it. It was honestly so beautiful. She remembers saying to him one time she identified herself as a butterfly, because no matter the situation she was going through she could always adapt herself and learn from it. Did he remember that?

“I- I love it Jungkook. This is so pretty and personal, I- Thank you, this is amazing. I’ll have it that way”  

“Are you sure? It’s gonna be there forever” 

“I’m 100% sure. Start this before I lose my courage” Jungkook gave her a nod, taking the paper and putting it on her skin with some wet liquid. He could tell she was nervous so he told her when he was about to start. “If you need me to stop let me know. We have time okay?” Y/n nodded  

“You have amazing sketches here. Not that I didn't know but you're super talented, I feel grateful that it’s you doing this on me. When you become a world-renowned artist I'm gonna brag about it, I’m already warning you.” After their fight yesterday, Y/n was trying to ease the tension between them but he was making it hard. She missed Jungkook and wanted to clear things up with him. She was done with all the confusion and misunderstandings, however, Jungkook remained in silence. “Please Jungkook I’m trying. I miss you. I miss us. I don’t even understand what happened yesterday and I’m sorry for hurting you in any way. I’m tired of this! You're driving me crazy by leaving me in this void. I'm not like this Jk, you know it. I don't care about boys but just the thought of losing you is killing me. That's the effect you have on me!”  He wasn’t paying attenton to her at all, or maybe he was just ignoring her on purpose, either ways she was getting more and more frustrated and did her best to keep her tears to herself since she couldn't get out of there. With her free hand, she surreptitiously wiped her eyes with her shirt sleeve. What she didn’t know was that Jungkook was paying attention to all her movements.

“I’m sorry. I talk a lot with my clients for them to relax a bit but with you... I feel like if I talk I'm not gonna be able to concentrate and I don’t want to mess this up. You make me nervous just with your presence. That's the effect you have on me Y/n. When it comes to you I can't separate things”  

"I could’ve waited for Athena to do it. Actually I think it’d be better, given the situation we are at right now. Damn Jungkook I put my guard down for you and now you're treating me like this, what for? You criticize me for avoiding things, yet you're doing the exact same thing, it's not fair. You can't say whatever you want, make me feel bad and then do the same to me. I know I messed up somewhere. I know I should've been braver, but you are such a special and necessary part of my life that I was afraid of you not feeling the same way, could break everything we built so far, which is stupid right now because that's exactly what happened. There is no way we can go back to what we were before” By the time she ended her speech, Jungkook was already putting the final touches on the tattoo, being done with it. Both of them remained silenced until he had picked up the tattoo protection to place it around her skin. 

“Let’s do it then. Let’s put everything on the table and be honest because honestly I can’t handle this anymore too. Where do you want me to start? From the day we first met? I had the shittiest day ever it was raining so much. That’s what made me stop at the coffee shop. Then you looked absolutely gorgeous standing there looking at me and when you noticed I was staring back and pretended to have lost an earring, that caught my attention, how innocent and naive you looked. Then I started to get to know you better and it was it for me. It was so hard not to fall for you. I kept taking you out to places but you always friendzoned me somehow, I would tell you about non existing dates to see your reaction but you always had the same posture, I came to terms that it was a one-sided thing. Then Sewoon happened. When you introduced us, honestly I was very straightforward with her. I asked her about you, if you liked someone if you ever talked about me, you know, something to give me hope. But the answers she gave me weren’t the ones I expected to hear and I was so disappointed.” Y/n's system was soon on alert.  

“What- - What did she tell you?”  Jungkook took a while to answer which was making her impatient. She was about to lose her mind.  

“She told me you were seeing someone and it was getting serious. That she was sorry but wouldn’t get in the way. After that, we kept talking a little more and when I was about to leave she was the one asking me to go out with her. Just a simple date so I said yes, maybe that would help me take my mind of you.  Then things happened and time skipped and we broke up and yeah I didn’t take that well because no one likes to feel they failed at something, but I’m so glad we did. We didn’t align in anything, we fought a lot behind doors. Then came the party you and Sewoon went. I was already there remember? You looked so sad and the first thing I remembered was the guy you were supposed to be seeing. I was hoping you were long gone with the dude but the way you were acting and how you were talking to me ended up confirming Sewoon’s words about you and that special someone and I--- I lost my mind.”  

“So you ended up kissing Sewoon to relieve all that anger, right?”  She got up and slowly turned her way towards the door when Jungkook grabbed her arm.

“That was a terrible mistake. As soon as I realized what I did I stepped back immediately. After that I looked everywhere for you, but I didn’t found you. When I did, you told me you were leaving with someone and that was it. I tried talking to you all night but your phone was either out of reach or you wouldn’t respond.”  There's this awkward silence until one of them spok again.

“That night broke me Jungkook. You broke me. I was there, I was hurt and you noticed something was up but all your eyes were looking at was Sewoon. I wished so many times it was me you were kissing, holding, touching. I'd see you with her and all I imagined was us. That was so toxic of me, that's why I left, because I couldn't see you leave with her knowing the next day I'd know everything about it."

They didn't realize how close they were until they felt each other's breath hitting their faces. Y/n doesn't know when things changed, but since the night at the restaurant there is something that pushes them towards each other. She gets a strange feeling in her belly, in her chest… down there. It's strange, she never felt something like this for anyone and it was confusing her. She knows if he asked her something she'd do it on the spot. It seems like Jungkook could feel the tension either because the hand that was previously on her arm was now around her waist, while the other caressed the right side of her face tucking some hair behind her ear. It was then that she felt the distance between them getting shorter and shorter, when all of a sudden they heard someone knock on the door, opening it, revealing Athena's slightly confused figure.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt, I heard voices and came to check if you were okay, as it's not usual for you to bring anyone here. I-- hmm- just wanted to let you know that I finished Lisa's piece and we're downstairs drinking some coffee and talking in case you'd want to join us when you finished whatever you were.... doing, but no pressure, make yourself comfortable, I didn't see anything. Use protection, okay? You still have a life to enjoy before any surprises." Jungkook made a desperate sound looking at Athena and throwing something at her

"Don't be an idiot, it's not what it looks like and you know it. Anyone hearing you talk would think you see me doing a lot of dirty things here. Work is work and I take it very seriously." Jungkook paused, glacing at Y/n, just to speak again. " We'll meet you downstairs in 10 minutes, I just need to finish explaining how she should handle this in the next few days." Athena hummed, giving them a nod before leaving. However, they heard her tell Lisa that - they were busy and would probably take longer to joy them- They knew she spoke loud for them to hear. Jungkook went to a drawer and took out a cream, handing it to Y/n.

"For the next three days you must avoid direct sunlight on the area. This protection should last for 24 hours, then you can remove it in the shower or by wetting the area with warm water, drying it well and applying the cream two or three times a day. If you feel any itching, that's normal, but if you see red spots around it let me know so I can check it out. But in principle, everything should be fine." Y/n nodded and thanked him, grabbing her wallet, heading towards the door but stopped halfway and turned around, facing Jungkook.

"Did you sleep with Sewoon here?"those words came out faster than Y/n could control. Why the hell did she ask that. Jungkook wasn't expecting that either, because his mouth opened and closed several times, not knowing what to answer, a little embarrassed. This gave Y/n a feeling that maybe the answer was yes. "Never mind, sorry, I don't know why I asked this. Forget it." She turned around again ready to open the door. She was about to do so when a hand above her head slammed the door shut again with a bang.

"Why do you always put me in difficult positions? It's past and - aiish- No Y/n, I didn't. This is my office, my space, my privacy, I don't bring anyone for anything more than work, not even Sewoon. This wasn't exactly the space she liked to frequent the most" Y/n nodded.

"I don't know why I asked, I'm sorry. Being here knowing that you and her were- you know- that would be just weird and gross. I mean, who knows what kind of "things" would be around here and-- Okay, nevermind. How about we go down? They're waiting for us and will start thinking stuff about us being here."

"So? Let them think what they want to think.. I'm not bothered at all. Are you?" When Y/n was about to answer, the door opened without warning revealing an excited Athena again, but she didn't realize that when she opened the door she had hit Y/n with it. "Shit Ath be careful. Knock before coming in. Jesus"

"Dude, I don't know what the situation is between you two, but behind the door is definitely not the best place. Been there, done that. It's interesting but not comfortable. Also, why are you so bothered by the knocking thing all of a sudden? That was never a rule. Just put something on the door handle to when you're busy doing other things. That's what I do with your broth-"

"Aiiiishh Athena. I'm not really interested in what you and my brother do or don't do, How disgusting. We were just talking! Stop being nosy and up on my ass. What's the matter with you today? why are you always coming here thought? You never care when I’m upstairs”

“Well you’re always by yourself, there’s nothing for me to pry on. Either way, I came here to tell you that the client you had for noon called to inform he’s no longer able to come. His wife went into labour, so you’re free for now”

“Well at least is for some good reasons. I’ll call him up later to reschedule.” Athena would steal glances from Jungkook to Y/n with a funny look, trying to see something she could pick up to tease them more “Anyway, I think I’ll grab lunch with Lisa. She’s pretty rad. Do you wanna come?” It was Y/n’s turn to speak

“I actually have some things to get done, but you go and have fun. Maybe we can grab a coffee later?” All she wanted was to run. After that stupid question she made she just wanted somewhere to hide.

“Of course, just give me your number. It’ll be easier” they both switched numbers and Athena gave a final goodbye to her, giving her a hug and winking to Jungkook, whispering behave before shutting the door completely. What the hell.

“So... The girls are leaving and you probably have things to do too so I should get going as well. I have to meet up with Joon, he asked me if I could stop by so hmmm, yeah. Thanks for your time. If - if I have any questions I’ll pass by. Thank you once again." This was her cue to leave. Uttering those words she was out of the door, running down the stairs getting closer and closer to the main door but when she reached it, it was locked.

Goddamn it!

She was thinking about calling Lisa to turn around and wait for her when she heard footsteps behind her. She didn't dare to look back but in question of minutes she felt Jungkook's chest against her back, hearing him whisper

"Why are you always in such a rush when it comes to me? What are you so afraid of?" Jungkook turned her around to face him. "Let yourself go Y/n. For me, for you, for us. We've been over the friendship thing for a while now, don't you think? No matter how much you try to deny it, the attraction is here" He was so close to her she could feel his heartbeat.

"I can't" She whispered. "Everytime I look at you I get myself reminded of how you used to be with Sewoon. There was her before me and I can't compare. I can't erase that image of my head. I- I want to forget, but I can't"

"I'll help you forget. Let me help you forget, but mainly let me show you how there's no comparison between you and her" They were so close and there was so much desire so she let herself go and feel all she wanted, grabbing Jungkook by the hem of his grey shirt and closing the distance between them. The response to the kiss was automatic. Y/n felt Jungkook kiss her back as if he had already been waiting for this moment. Slowly at first, like they were testing each other, until he slowly pushed her against the door, placing his hand behind her neck, deepening the kiss. She never had a kiss like that. At this point she felt the entire zoo inside her and she was aware of everything around her: of how Jungkook's hands were hovering over her body, how their mouths were thirsty for each other, the way their bodies were so close yet so far.

It was just them and their desire for each other. And at that moment that was all that mattered.

Bonus: The famous tattoos made

Lisa’s OC'S

You're welcome ;)

Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @jk97bam @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv @imagine-this-motherfucker @jk-190811 @cryingoverpixelsetc @11thenightwemet11 @rinkud @ayatie97 @jk-190811 @shaku1995 @blueberriesm @darkangelfei

[sulumuns-dootah]

Can I request headcanons for Leviathan, Satan, Beleth, Asmodeus, Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Mammon reacting to shy gn s/o asking him if you can kiss him on the lips in private please?

Asking WHB demons to kiss them in private

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Satan will laugh at first

"Private? Why? We can kiss right here in front of everyone!"

But if you keep insisting, he will let you drag him into a nearby back alley

Don't expect it to end only with a kiss though

There will be at least some hand wandering until you stop them

And once you get back to the castle, Satan will expect to continue where you two left off

       ༺☆༻

No problem for Mammon at all

If his s/o wants a kiss in private, they'll get it

In a flash he summons his golden hands that create a blocade around you, so the two of you are securely alone

Similarly to Satan however, expect his hands to wander to his favorite part of you

       ༺☆༻

In Leviathan's case, I'd say that this is a usual setting for the two of you anyway

Unless you emphasise the 'privacy' a bit more to drive the point across even to those nobles that are around, but invisible

Also, I think you'd have more success getting a kiss from Levi by telling him that you're going to kiss him rather than asking him

It's playing into his forced-submission kink and by asking him, he has the choice to refuse

So I'd recommend not asking, but straight up telling him that you're going toegther somewhere more private

       ༺☆༻

"Ah! I thought you'd never ask! I would love to whisk you away from everyone to have you only to myself! ...and maybe some of my clones!" he grins

He did understand what you meant, but it's much more fun to mess with you just to see your reaction

He'll even grab your wrist to softly tug you along, much to anyone elses, who might be around, dismay

But in reality, he is granting you your wish by simply leading you to a place with only the two of you

He might of might not summon some clones that will ask for a kiss as well

       ༺☆༻

Beleth might be busy, but never for you

So when you ask him, he'll pause for a second and think about where is the biggest chance to not be interrupted by anyone

Then he simply chuckles and picks you up like it's nothing and starts walking

Plus he's super warm so you can just lean into his chest and enjoy

(I just imagined Beleth kabedon-ing me and oof, I might go and think about it for a while :D)

       ༺☆༻

Honestly... I don't think Asmo would

And if he did say yes, it wouldn't be as private as you thought

He's a show-off to say the least

And if you're uncomfortable doing stuff out in the public, he will still try to argue exposure therapy to you

So yes, if you ask him if you two are alone, he'll nod that you are

But in reality there's a good part of Abaddon demons behind some curtain, wishing they were in your place

       ༺☆༻

Just like with Levi, I imagine you and Lucifer being alone by default

Most of his nobles are always too busy tending to patients and Jjok...

Jjok is probably struggling for his life somewhere (poor baby U.U)

But maybe you feel too exposed in the large greenhouse...

(That's so valid tbh)

Lucifer has no problem taking it somewhere else just for your comfort

He'll even keep it respectful and not try to push it any further

[wbbpls]

Platonic Plus One? (Chapter 1)

For purposes of the story line I made people up but our Uconn girlies will still make appearances!

———————

Chapter 1

Paige and Azzi became best friends instantly. They met during USA basketball in high school and have been inseparable ever since. They easily mixed their friend groups and families, as if they’d always been in each other's lives. So when Azzi was asked to be a bridesmaid in her cousin Jessica's wedding, bringing Paige along was a no-brainer.

Jessica and her high school sweetheart Brandon were well-versed on all things Paige and Azzi at this point and weren’t shocked at Azzi asking Paige to be her plus one.

Storrs, CT

“Paigey please go with me? I don’t want to show up alone and if you don’t go I’m just going to be texting you the whole time.”

Paige pauses her game and places her controller down. “I don’t know Az. I don’t want to intrude. Like I know I’m not tight with Jess like that, but don’t you think I would have been invited if they wanted me?”

“Uh no because they gave me a plus one, which I’m sure my family knows means you. You have to remember his Mom has been weirdly involved in the planning and she’s more traditional about this stuff.”

Paige moved to sit at the edge of her bed with her feet dangling off the side. “So then wouldn’t they want you to bring like a real date?”

Azzi knows she got her title of people’s princess with her sweetness and innocence…so why not use it to her advantage? She moved to stand between Paige’s legs and rests her hands on Paige’s hips (in a very platonic way of course). “P c’mon please? For me? I just really don’t want to go alone and deal with commentary from my family.“

Paige looked down at Azzi’s big brown eyes and melted. The truth is, Paige would kill to be Azzi’s date. The issue is that Azzi is straight, so she shoved those feelings down a long time ago. Also, she isn’t asking Paige to be her date, just her friend to accompany her. “Yeah, okay, whatever, Az. Just tell me what to wear.”

Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck jumping up and down in excitement. “Yay thank you Paigey! We’re gonna have so much fun I promise.”

——————————

KK and Caroline tag along for wedding shopping. KK stayed with Paige while Caroline and Azzi went to pick up her bridesmaid dress at another shop.

“Damn dude you lookin mighty fine.”

Paige is trying on a light blue suit, making her eyes pop, with the jacket being slightly oversized. Under the jacket is a black vest with a deep v at the top and showing skin at the bottom. Paige has always been comfortable showing skin and trying new styles, so here’s to hoping Azzi approves.

“You think? I’m feeling’ it forreal, but Azzi gotta like it too.”

“Ah yes the girlfriend stamp of approval.” KK says with a knowing smirk.

Paiges eyes bulge out of her head. “Bro what the hell! She could walk in at any minute.”

“Alright I’ll chill but how are you gonna do this for a whole week?”

“Do what? I’m just going with my best friend to a wedding”

“You mean doing what normally people in a relationship do?”

“You don’t think I thought about that?” Paige scream whispers. “But I can’t say no to her and I need to get over whatever I’ve been feeling so maybe a week hanging out as friends will be good.”

“Just don’t get yourself hurt P boogers.”

Paige just sighs and takes in KK’s words while looking at the suit. Suddenly she hears giggling that she’d recognize anywhere.

Caroline is the first to walk in talking about who knows what. “And then she was like—oh my god Paige you look so good!”

Paige smiles at them and notices Azzi just staring at her. “Thanks Car…uh Azzi what do you think?”

Azzi swallows hard. “Uh yeah no I mean great you look uh yeah good.“ Everyone looks at Azzi confused.

“Oh I mean if you don’t think it’s good I totally have some other options it’s cool really.”

Azzi shakes her head and moved forward quickly. “NO! I mean no it’s fine, really this is perfect. I was just uh caught off guard, it looks really good, P”

At this point Caroline and KK are eyeing each other understanding the complicated relationship of the girls in front of them. Paige has spent countless nights crying to KK, praying her and Azzi could be more. Caroline has tried to talk to Azzi about how different their relationship is. When Azzi pushes back, Caroline alwaya brings up the friends don’t get jealous of their friends hooking up with other people. Azzi always has a myriad of excuses of why those girls just aren’t good enough for Paige and changes the conversation.

“Cool cool…well uh I’ll go buy this then.” Paige says trying to hide her blush. She takes off the jacket and begins unbutton the blazer as she enters the changing room. Now Azzi is the one to get red. “No I’ll buy it! I’m the one making you go.”

Before Paige could protest Azzi was running to the front to buy the suit. The three girls left standing there stood in an awkward silence until Paige finished changing back into her normal clothes. Caroline joined Azzi at the front to make sure the flustered girl was okay.

When Paige exited the changing room KK gave her a knowing look. Paige rolled her eyes and started the gather her stuff and checked her phone.

“I mean that girlfriend approval amiright?” KK says as she wiggles her eyebrows.

“Girlfriend?” Azzi finally composed walked in on the last part of KK’s words and is unfortunately back to little composure. Was Paige talking to someone and she didn’t know? Did Paige send a picture of her outfit to some girl?

“What no? No one has a girlfriend she’s just playin.” Paige says with very little conviction.

“Yeah you know me always playin! But like if there was a girl that would be cool too right?” Paige elbows KK in the stomach to try to get her to shut up.

“Yeah that’s great, P. Can’t wait to hear all about her. Uh we should probably get going to beat traffic.” Azzi says with a shaky voice yet flashes Paige one of her signature smiles and walks towards the exit.

Paige can already tell this will easily be one of the longest weeks of her life.

[kioflerkira]

“ CAMPFIRE CONFESSION ”

warnings: fluff, fire, female reader pairings: p.jackson x reader summary: during a sing-along at the campfire, percy gets teased by his friends about having a crush on you. he managed to build up the courage to confess as he rest of the camp watches as percy stumbles through a confession

⊱⋆ ━━━━ ⋮ ୨୧ ⋮ ━━━━ ⋆ ⊰

the fire crackled warmly, casting golden light over the faces of the campers gathered around it. laughter and off key singing were made from camper as everyone enjoyed camps bonfire. you sat comfortably between some friends, enjoying the night, when suddenly, you noticed a shift in the energy.

percy jackson, who had been sitting with his arms crossed and an amused smirk on his face, was now groaning dramatically. that was enough to get your attention. you leaned in slightly, curious as to what had him so flustered.

"oh, come on, jackson, don’t deny it !" leo’s voice rang out, loud enough for half the campers to hear. he wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “we all know you’ve got a crush. you turn into a total idiot whenever she’s around."

percy spluttered. "I do not !"

"you do !" clarisse cut in, smirking at him from across the fire. "seaweed brain goes from fearless warrior to awkward mess the second she talks to him. It’s embarrassing."

annabeth, seated beside percy, gave him a smug look. "just admit it already, percy. the more you deny it, the worse it looks."

you blinked in confusion. they were talking about someone he liked. someone who made percy jackson—the same percy who had stared down gods and monsters alike—nervous ? your heart thudded slightly at the thought.

percy groaned again, rubbing his face as his ears turned an impressive shade of red. "I- I don’t know what you guys are talking about."

"oh, just tell them, dude !" leo grinned mischievously, and before percy could protest, he turned toward you and added, "Or better yet, just tell her and put the poor guy out of his misery."

the moment he said, “her” he looked directly at you, with the biggest shit eating grin ever. your eyes widened. the conversation around the fire quieted, a few people gasping, others murmuring excitedly. every head turned toward you and percy.

percy, who looked like he wished the ground would swallow him whole.

"leo, I swear on the gods—" percy started, his voice strained.

"oh, don’t look at me like that," leo said, shrugging. "I just sped things up."

silence stretched for a few beats. the fire crackled, campers waited with bated breath, and you could practically hear percy’s heart pounding from where you sat.

he shifted uncomfortably before finally letting out a deep sigh, running a hand through his messy black hair. when he looked up at you, his sea-green eyes were filled with something both nervous and soft, something that made your own heart skip a beat.

"okay. fine," he muttered. then, clearing his throat, he looked directly at you, his voice quieter but sincere. "y/n.. they’re right. I—I like you. a lot. I have for a while, but I didn’t know how to tell you because—well, I figured you probably didn’t feel the same, and I didn’t want to make things weird. but, uh.. yeah. there it is."

the entire camp seemed to be holding its breath.

your face burned, and your mind raced, but one thing was abundantly clear: this was percy. sweet, brave, ridiculous percy, standing there looking like he was about to face his worst fear. because of you.

your lips curled into a smile before you even fully processed what you were doing. "percy," you started, voice steady but warm. "you’re an idiot."

he blinked, startled. "uh—"

"because," you continued, getting closer, "I like you too."

for a moment, percy just stared at you, as if trying to figure out whether or not he’d imagined what you just said. then, his face split into the brightest, most relieved smile you had ever seen.

the camp erupted into cheers and applause. leo let out an exaggerated victory yell, annabeth smiled, and clarisse rolled her eyes as if she had known all along.

percy, ignoring the chaos around you both, let out a breathless laugh. "seriously ? You mean that ?”

you nodded. "yeah, seaweed brain. I mean it.”

before you could react, he pulled you into a tight, excited hug, lifting you off the ground for a brief moment before setting you back down, his face still lit up with pure happiness.

"finally !" someone shouted from the crowd.

"took you long enough !" another camper called out.

you laughed, pulling back just enough to look at percy again. He was still grinning, still holding onto you like he couldn’t believe this was real.

and maybe neither of you could just yet. but you’re gonna have to.

⊱⋆ ━━━━ ⋮ ୨୧ ⋮ ━━━━ ⋆ ⊰

a/n: idk if it’s js me, but it feel INSANELY awkward when I use, “y/n” 😭

[aylacavebear]

Bloodlines & Fate Chapter 5

A/N: Today is my birthday. So, I'm posting this today for all of you. I like to do fun things for others on my birthday and throughout the year. This is my gift to all of you, the next chapter early. <3 Enjoy.

Being Touched should have been a blessing—a mark of honor in your lineage, celebrated by your pack since childhood. But to you, it's always made you feel like an outsider, never really fitting in anywhere. Yeah, you had your best friend Jess, but for you, something always felt like it was missing. The land your pack runs on during the full moons brings you a sense of peace you don't fully understand, at first.

Paring: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader/You

Word Count: 4525

Warning: Angst, longing, some Fluff. Not much that I can think of.

A/N: Professor Robert Zimmerman is based off of The Doctor from Star Trek Voyager, as I absolutely love that character. Alaric Saltzman is from The Vampire Diaries.

A/N: It's my first attempt with an A/B/O fic, be gentle please. I hope you like it. Not sure how many chapters this will be yet.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 5

A slow, lopsided grin broke across Dean’s face, utterly wrecked by the sound of your voice. It hit him like a punch to the gut—warm, knowing, inevitable.

Across the room, Jess stood frozen, staring at Sam, who looked just as thunderstruck. Recognition flickered between them, their past colliding with their present. Jess had always noticed him, the boy she’d wanted to talk to but never had. For Sam, she was the girl he’d been too shy to approach, graduating before she ever presented. And now, fate had pulled them back together.

“Looks like our families just got a little bigger,” John murmured to your parents, his voice carrying the weight of years spent hoping for this moment.

“Looks like it,” your father agreed, while your mother pressed a trembling hand to her lips, her eyes glistening.

A teasing voice cut through the heavy silence from the other side of the living room. “Are you four just going to stare at each other all day?”

Heat rushed to your face as you and Jess snapped out of it, giggling like teenagers. The sound was enough to break the spell, letting the brothers breathe again—just barely.

Sam cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can, we, uh… talk outside?”

Jess shot you a giddy look before smirking at Sam. “Yeah. She’s not everyone’s cup of tea,” she teased, throwing an arm around you in a quick hug. Then, in a conspiratorial whisper, she added, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Jess,” you hissed, mortified, but she only chuckled before slipping her hand into Sam’s and leading him toward the door.

Dean didn’t notice. He hadn’t stopped looking at you.

“I don’t bite,” you teased, your voice soft but playful, trying to ease the tension that hung thick in the air.

Dean blinked, finally shaking himself loose from whatever had him trapped in place. “Yeah, I, uh…” He exhaled sharply, shifting his weight like he wasn’t sure if he should move closer or keep his distance. “Sorry.”

Sorry—for staring, for not knowing what to say, for the way his chest ached just from being in the same room as you.

Dean had been around plenty of omegas before. But you—your presence, your scent, your everything—were something else entirely.

And for the first time in his life, he had no clever remark, no easy charm. Just the sound of his heart pounding in his ears and the certainty that he had just found something he never realized he was missing.

Tilting your head slightly, you studied him, wondering what was running through his mind. “Would you rather we spoke outside?” you asked gently, just wanting him to be comfortable.

Dean shook his head again, then cleared his throat, finally forcing himself to move. “I, uh… I wasn’t sure you were real,” he admitted, easing into the seat Jess had vacated. His wolf stirred beneath his skin, urging him closer, but he ignored it—your comfort mattered more than his instincts.

You settled back into your chair, noting the distance he kept. He could have sat beside you, but chose to face you instead. Perhaps he wants to be able to look directly at me. “Your father mentioned you were going through something, when he was here earlier,” you said, your voice laced with quiet concern. “Is everything okay? Is there something I could do to possibly help?” 

Dean huffed a quiet laugh, your sincerity both unexpected and endearing. “When I’d come back in the mornings and shift back... your scent clung to me. It sort of drove me crazy because I—” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I don’t remember anything when I shift.” He tried to find his usual confidence, but the words still felt awkward, like he was tripping over them.

Your brows knitted together. “Why can’t you shift back or remember things?” 

Before he could answer, you blinked, realizing something. “Oh! Would you like some coffee?” You winced at the oversight, feeling like a terrible host.

Dean chuckled, low and warm, shaking his head in quiet amusement. You weren’t like other omegas—there was no hesitation, no shyness, just you, unfiltered and real. It was refreshing.

“Coffee sounds nice,” he murmured, watching as you moved effortlessly around the spacious kitchen. He leaned back in his chair, finally starting to relax. 

“I have a genetic mutation,” he explained after a beat, his voice quieter now. “It happens sometimes to alphas in my pack. When I shift, I stay shifted ‘til sunrise, and I don’t remember anything.” His gaze flickered to yours, gauging your reaction. “But… the upside is any pups I father will have immunities to certain diseases and things.”

You set a cup of coffee in front of him before taking the seat beside him. “Will you ever get those memories from when you shifted?”

Dean took a breath, steadying himself. Your closeness tugged at something deep inside him—his wolf stirred, pressing at the edges of his mind, drawn to you. But he held himself still, not wanting to push, even as your scent wrapped around him like a whisper of something familiar and longed for. He’d been around plenty of omegas before, but none had ever unsettled him like this. You were his. His true mate. His body knew it, his wolf knew it, and yet, he had no memory of the nights spent at your side. 

God, get a grip, he mentally berated himself.

The tips of his ears burned as he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhh… yeah. I mean, kind of.” He let out a rough chuckle, almost embarrassed. “My true mate has to claim me before I’ll remember.” Saying it out loud made it real in a way that sent his pulse skittering. Omegas didn’t usually claim alphas, not the way an alpha claimed an omega, anyway.

Your expression didn’t shift the way he expected. No shock, no discomfort. Just quiet understanding. “So, you’re kinda like me,” you murmured, lacing your fingers together in your lap. “I have a genetic mutation, too, but mine’s a little different. I can only smell presentation, can’t shift during the full moon, and… I can’t feel that connection my soulmate would feel being near me.”

It was something you’d always carried like an invisible weight. But telling him? It didn’t feel heavy—it felt like something finally lifting off your shoulders.

Dean stared at you, completely caught up in the way you spoke—gentle yet playful, confident yet soft. God, he could listen to you talk all day and never get tired of the sound of your voice. It was like some heavenly melody that soothed not only him, but also his wolf. When you tilted your head, confused by his silence, he blinked, trying to snap out of the trance he was in. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed at himself for getting lost in your eyes, again. “So, to you, I just smell like an alpha?” he asked before taking a sip of his coffee, trying to wrap his head around that.

He couldn’t imagine not recognizing the distinct scents of his pack, not feeling them in a way that tethered him to something bigger. His wolf whined softly in his mind, unsettled by the thought. “That… sounds lonely,” he admitted.

You studied him for a moment before offering a small, reassuring smile. “I grew up with it, so it never felt like I was missing anything. My pack comforted me with physical contact instead of scent. And I had Jess. She’s like my sister.” 

Dean nodded, but the thought still lingered, gnawing at him. He tried to imagine it—living in a pack without scenting the safety and warmth of the people around him. It was foreign, but the way you spoke about it, there was no bitterness. Just acceptance. 

“Wow,” he murmured, shaking his head. “I honestly can’t imagine what that would be like.” But there was something in his voice—something quiet and earnest—that made your smile linger.

The two of you talked for hours, the conversation stretching on like neither of you wanted to stop. Even though you’d spent the last several years speaking to his wolf, none of those memories belonged to him. So you shared them, watching the way his eyes softened, the way he leaned in slightly every time you spoke. 

He told you about his childhood, about his brother and his pack, about the kind of trouble he and Sam used to get into. And every time he made you laugh, something in his chest eased—like he was getting back something he didn’t even know he’d lost.

Time unraveled between you, stretching and folding into itself, lost in the quiet gravity pulling you toward each other. The hours ticked by, as time often does, the afternoon slowly melting into evening. Golden light slanted through the windows, setting his green eyes aglow. It had all just flowed so easily, his entire body relaxed so much so that he wasn’t tripping over his words anymore.

“Would you let me cook dinner for us?” you asked, hoping he’d stay, just a little longer.

Dean’s gaze flickered over your face, as if memorizing the moment before it could slip away. Then, that slow, easy smile spread across his lips. “Dinner sounds amazing,” he murmured, voice rich with something unspoken. 

Neither of you had noticed when the others had left, how the main cabin had emptied around you. The world had faded to just this—this space, this stolen pocket of time where nothing else existed. 

Outside, one of your cousins leaned against his truck, a knowing smirk on his lips. “So, your place or his?”  

You smacked him on the shoulder, shooting him a glare. “Seriously?” 

Dean’s wolf didn’t bristle at the interaction, both finding your behavior somewhat adorable. A quiet chuckle slipped past his lips as he shook his head in amusement. “Hers. She offered dinner, and what kind of mate would I be to refuse such an offer?”

The word mate sent heat rushing to your cheeks before you could stop it, and your cousin barely contained a laugh, though he knew better than to push. Without another word, you made your way to the truck—only to freeze when Dean stepped ahead of you, opening the door with a quiet, effortless chivalry.

Your breath caught when he held out his hand.

The moment stretched between you, charged with something neither of you had the words for yet. Slowly, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver up your arm. His fingers curled around yours, firm yet careful, as if he wasn’t entirely sure if you’d let go.

During the short drive, he wanted so badly to move closer, maybe just hold your hand, but he was trying so hard not to rush into anything. Even his wolf kept trying to nudge him to get closer, missing the closeness the two of you had shared during the full moons. Now, there was nothing separating the two of you.

“Come on,” you said with a smile, stepping out of the truck.

Dean followed without hesitation—not like a lost pup, but like a man who had finally found what he had been missing. His wolf stretched within him, content in a way it hadn’t been in years.

The cabin welcomed you both with the stillness of a familiar sanctuary. The air smelled like you—faint traces of your scent woven into the wood, the very bones of the place. It settled around him, comforting, but not enough. His wolf still wanted closer. 

Your parents were nowhere in sight, but a note sat waiting on the kitchen table. You plucked it up, scanning the familiar handwriting before huffing a soft laugh.

“Looks like my parents are going to stay in another cabin for the night,” you murmured, shaking your head before glancing at him. A small, almost apologetic smile tugged at your lips. 

If you were being honest, you understood exactly why your parents had left. Most soulmates bonded within hours of meeting—nature pulling them together in an unshakable, undeniable force. Yet, despite the quiet certainty of your connection, you didn’t feel that same urgency, due to your mutation. 

Dean leaned against the doorframe, watching you with cautious curiosity. He wasn’t sure why that simple statement sent heat creeping up his neck until realization struck. God, her parents think… he couldn’t finish the thought, his ears burning. His mind hadn’t even gone there. 

He cleared his throat, searching for something to ground himself. “So, whatcha gonna make?” he asked, leaning against the doorway as you moved toward the fridge. 

“It’s a surprise,” you teased, pulling out ingredients with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before.

The room hummed with quiet, steady warmth. Being here, watching you, being near you—it was so damn easy. Now walls, no tough guy act, just the quiet, unshaken truth of your presence. He hadn’t expected this. The pull, yeah, he’d expected that. But the calm? The peace? That was new.

And yet, even as he basked in it, something gnawed at the edges of his mind. You weren’t feeling this same way was. He knew that, had known it from the moment you looked at him without that same electric urgency. His wolf knew you, but you—

You were steady. Measured. Not resisting, but not swept away either.

His fingers curled against the wood of the doorway. It should’ve bothered him, that difference, that lack of mirrored need. Instead, it made his wolf want to comfort you in the ways he had on the nights of the full moon, being close to you.

Having him there, cooking for him, was something you’d only ever dreamt about. Cooking for your mate. The butterflies were still dancing around in your stomach, but it wasn’t nerves, and that alone felt impossible to explain. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—like you were the only woman in the world to him.

Before he even realized it, he stepped forward, his hands moving instinctively to help as you prepped the food. Neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It was something else. Something comfortable. Like a dance you’d already learned, despite never having done it together before.

Dean found things without asking, his hands moving to the right cabinets like he’d known their places all along. He barely paused, barely had to think—because it all made sense. Practical, easy, like the way his own kitchen was set up.

His wolf rumbled in satisfaction, catching the slight shift in your scent like he’d done on countless full moons. The scent of comfort that he knew came from his closeness. The one that meant home.

You watched him from the corner of your eye while focusing on the meat sizzling on the stove, sprinkling seasonings with practiced ease. “You didn’t have to help. I offered,” you tried to insist, but his easy smile told you all you needed to know before he even spoke. “Feels right,” he shrugged, reaching for a cutting board.

It did. More than right. His wolf settled, no longer forced to watch you from across the room. No longer waiting, hoping.

His wolf wasn’t even uncomfortable being on your pack’s land, never feeling like he needed to protect you from an unknown intruder, not here. Dean mostly stopped fighting what his wolf wanted, letting his comfort around you guide him. He almost chuckled quietly, realizing it was his own nerves that made things a bit awkward at times.

He tried not to think too hard about how much his wolf already knew you—how many full moons you’d spent on opposite sides of the fence, growing familiar in ways he hadn’t yet had the chance to. A part of him wanted to be jealous of that, of the connection his other half had with you before he even got the chance. But he shoved that feeling away.

The last thing he wanted was to taint this with thoughts that didn’t belong here.

His mouth was already watering before you brought dinner to the table, which he had set in anticipation. 

Dinner was easy—comfortable in a way that neither of you fully expected, but both instinctively leaned into. The meal itself wasn’t anything extravagant, but it didn’t need to be. The simple act of sharing a table, passing plates, and catching each other’s lingering glances between bites was enough.

Dean wasn’t used to this, the quiet domesticity of it all. A meal that wasn’t rushed, a conversation that didn’t feel forced. You laughed at his surprise when he took his first bite because, of course, you knew exactly how to season everything just right.

“Damn,” he muttered around a mouthful of food, shaking his head. “You been holdin’ out on me?”

You smirked, shrugging as you took a sip of water. “You’ve only known me for a couple of hours, Dean.” His lips quirked, eyes glinting with something warm. “Still feels like longer.”

Neither of you addressed that truth out loud. It just was.

After dinner, cleaning up felt just as easy. You didn’t even have to ask Dean to help—he was already stacking plates, rinsing them off before you even got up from your seat. It was effortless, like he belonged here in ways that should have felt foreign, but didn’t. His hands moved with familiarity, setting things aside as you worked alongside him. The hum of the night filled the comfortable silence, the occasional clink of dishes the only real sound between you.

“Y’know, most guests don’t do the dishes,” you teased, bumping his arm lightly as he passed you a plate to dry.

He scoffed, shooting you a sidelong look. “I’m not most guests.”

No, he wasn’t. And you were starting to understand just how much that meant.

When everything was put away, you hesitated for just a second before grabbing a folded throw blanket from the couch. It was soft, worn from years of use—your favorite. You turned, holding it out to him.

“For you,” you said, feeling a little ridiculous for the sudden shyness creeping in. “Till we see each other again.”

Dean looked at the blanket, then back at you, something unreadable flickering across his expression. He didn’t say anything at first—just reached up, pulling the flannel from his shoulders and offering it in return.

Your fingers brushed as you took it, the fabric still warm from his body heat. You swallowed, clutching it lightly in your hands.

“Thanks,” you murmured, not trusting yourself to say much more.

Dean only nodded, taking the blanket and tucking it under his arm. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead, he stepped back, giving you one last glance before heading for the door.

The night air was cool when he stepped outside, the quiet settling around him in a way that had his wolf stretching beneath his skin. He pulled in a slow breath, adjusting the blanket under his arm, when movement caught his eye.

Sam.

Dean stilled, watching as his brother stood on the porch, Jess in the doorway. Sam leaned down, pressing a kiss to her cheek, something tucked under his arm as well. Dean waited till she had slipped back inside before getting his brother’s attention, a lopsided grin on his face again as he waved him down.

The Impala was a sight for sore eyes.

She was parked near the main lodge, the chrome gleaming under the moon’s light, looking damn near perfect. Their parents must’ve driven her up, knowing full well Dean would want his baby for the ride home.

Running a hand along the hood, he exhaled, lips twitching despite himself. “Well, I guess they didn’t forget about us after all.” Sam huffed a quiet laugh beside him, “Yeah. Probably didn’t want to assume one of the Winters would give us a ride back.”

Sliding into the familiar leather seats, he inhaled deeply. The scent of home wrapped around him—motor oil, leather, and something that just was the Impala. The blanket from you sat on his lap, the fabric soft under his fingers as he reached for the keys. The engine rumbling to life beneath him. 

Sam settled in the passenger seat, the blanket from Jess resting on his thighs.

The road stretched ahead, and for a few minutes, neither of them said much. Just the sound of the tires against the dirt path, the trees rolling by as the land faded in the rearview.

Sam was the first to break the silence. “Jess is amazing. She made me dinner, and we talked all day.”

Dean flicked him a glance, waiting.

Sam sighed, shaking his head with a small, almost disbelieving smile. His thumb brushed absently over the blanket Jess had given him. “We talked about taking the summer to really get to know each other. Spend time together before we go back to school.” He paused, an almost dreamy smile finding his lips. “She wants me to claim her before we go back to school.”

Dean’s fingers tightened slightly on the wheel.

“We’re waiting, to have pups,” Sam added, catching the shift in his brother’s posture. “We both want to finish school first.”

Dean nodded, jaw shifting, but said nothing. His mind was already moving too fast, and his wolf stirred uneasily inside him.

Sam glanced at him. “What about you and Y/N?” he asked, smelling the shift in his brother's scent.

Dean frowned. “What about us?”

“You guys talk about any of that?” he coaxed gently. Claiming and pups was something he knew his brother thought about often, and now that he’d finally found his true mate, you, Sam was hopeful.

Dean let out a slow breath, his grip tightening for just a second before he forced it to relax. “Nah.”

Sam waited, but when Dean didn’t elaborate, he pressed. “You want to?”

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. “Man, we just met. And we’re—” he stopped himself, exhaling. “I dunno. It’s different.”

It was different, in so many ways. His wolf knew you, for years before today. You were different than other omegas, unable to feel that instinctual pull toward your true mate. Sam knew all of that, but talking about it? Putting words to something he barely understood himself? That was another thing entirely. How the hell was he supposed to bring up stuff like claiming and pups when you were still figuring out what any of this meant to you?

Dean rolled his shoulders, shifting in his seat. “Ain’t about that. It’s just—” His fingers tapped the wheel, and the other slipped down, resting on the blanket you had given him. “There was a lot we didn’t talk about.”

Sam was quiet for a few moments, reading his brother like an open book. “So, spend the summer getting to know her better. Your wolf already knows her. Let him lead.” Dean laughed dryly. “Pretty sure if I did that, he would have claimed her tonight.”

His mind was running a hundred miles an hour, overthinking every interaction they’d had over the day, every moment he could’ve brought any of it up. Hell, should I have? Or would that have been too soon? What if she didn’t want any of that anytime soon? What if she did and thought I didn’t? 

Sam sighed, “You’re thinking too hard.” Dean shot him a flat look. “Shut up.”

Sam just grinned, shaking his head. “Look, all I’m saying is, you two still have to talk about it eventually. Might as well rip the Band-Aid off instead of overthinking it to death.”

Dean exhaled through his nose, eyes on the dark road. Yeah. Eventually. But that didn’t mean he had to figure it out right this second.

—-------------------------

The cabin door flew open with a burst of cool night air, slamming against the frame as Jess all but tumbled inside. “Oh my God!” she practically squealed, eyes bright with excitement as she spun to close the door behind her. 

Before you could react, she launched herself onto the couch beside you, bouncing slightly as she tucked her legs underneath her. The flannel swallowing her small frame was unmistakably Sam’s—just like the one draped over your own shoulders belonged to Dean.

You huffed a small laugh, “Let me guess—Sam?”

Jess gasped, pressing a hand dramatically to her chest. “Wow. Look at you. Psychic now?” You just rolled your eyes, but the teasing glint in hers didn’t waver. 

“Okay, but seriously, yes,” she continued, grabbing one of the throw pillows and squeezing it like it might contain the sheer joy she was trying to hold in. “I can’t even explain it. It’s like—I don’t know. Like he’s always been there, like I’ve always known him. We talked all day. About everything. And then, at the end of the night, he just—” She broke off, grinning so wide it had to hurt. “He kissed me, Y/N.”

A genuine smile pulled at your lips as Jess practically melted into the pillow at the memory, her fingers twisting in the fabric.

“That’s amazing, Jess,” you said softly, and you meant it.

Jess sighed dreamily, still grinning as she looked at you. “I think I love him already. Is that crazy? I mean, I know you hear about the whole soulmate pull, but to feel it…” she exhaled again, her gaze going distant for a moment, lost in the warmth of it all. 

You shook your head. “No. That’s normal.”

Jess studied you then, her expression shifting just slightly. That hyper-focused awareness kicking in, the one that always saw too much. “You okay?”

You hesitated, but it was just long enough to put her into little sister mode.

She sat up a little straighter, her grin softening into something more thoughtful, something meant just for you. “Talk to me,” she coaxed gently, knowing how things were different for you than they were for others.

For a moment, you bit your lip. You’d hoped—maybe too hard— that you’d feel that connection, that pull that others felt when being around their soulmate. But hadn’t been there. It still wasn’t. You missed his presence, but not like you knew he was missing yours. Then there was everything he hadn’t even asked you about. There had been plenty of opportunities, but not once had he brought any of it up.

“We didn’t really talk about that stuff,” you murmured, shrugging off the weight of it.

Jess was quiet for a beat, but you could see her mind working through the small piece you’d given her. “Maybe he doesn’t know how to,” she offered, voice thoughtful. “Since you can’t feel that pull, maybe he’s afraid of pushing too hard.” Then, with a knowing smirk, she nudged your shoulder. “What happened to you being the curious one and asking questions so you don’t overthink things?”

You huffed a small laugh, the tension easing slightly from your shoulders. “Didn’t expect you to be the voice of reason.”

Jess grinned proudly. “I have my moments. Now, tell me everything. I have to know.”

----------------------------------------- Chapter 6 - coming soon

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