#and just having a full plate of stuff i liked with someone i loved was. new to me

[kathlare]

threads of the past

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie reflects on the success of her performance at the Greek Theatre, surrounded by friends and family in the aftermath of the event.

Wordcount: 1.1 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

April 20th, 2023 - Los Angeles, CA

The applause still echoed in Amelie’s mind as she stepped out of the shower, her body finally relaxing after the high of performing at the Greek Theatre. It had been a career milestone, one she had dreamed about for years, and she had given everything she had to the performance. The crowd had been electric, and seeing her friends and family scattered among the audience had made it even more special.

She slipped into a pair of comfortable sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, her damp hair tied back into a loose braid. The glamour of the stage was behind her now, replaced by the quiet comfort of being surrounded by the people she loved. The catering team had set up a cozy dinner spread in the backstage area, and she could already hear the chatter and laughter from the next room.

When she stepped into the room, her heart swelled. Her parents were there, her sister, Rodrigo, and a handful of her closest friends. But her gaze instinctively found Charles, Alex, and George, who were sitting at a table, waving her over. The three of them had flown out to see her perform live for the first time, and their enthusiasm throughout the night had been infectious.

She greeted everyone warmly before grabbing a plate of food and settling at the table with the boys. Rodrigo was deep in conversation with her parents across the room, giving her a rare moment alone with the trio.

—You were fucking incredible out there,— Alex said, shaking his head in disbelief as he shoveled food onto his fork. —Like, I knew you were good, but seeing it live? Insane.—

—Agreed,— George chimed in, raising his glass of water. —That voice... You’re a star, Amelie. No doubt about it.—

Charles, always the most reserved of the three, gave her a small smile. —You’ve worked so hard for this, and it shows. We’re proud of you.—

Amelie blushed, looking down at her plate. —Thanks, guys. It means a lot that you were here. Really.—

The conversation flowed easily as they ate, their banter reminiscent of the countless nights they’d spent gaming together during the pandemic. It felt almost normal, like a slice of the life she used to have before everything got complicated.

But the knot in her stomach wouldn’t loosen. The presence of Charles, Alex, and George made her think of someone else—someone she hadn’t spoken to in months but couldn’t seem to shake from her thoughts. She hesitated, the words forming in her mind before she could stop them.

—So... how’s Lando doing?— Amelie asked casually, keeping her voice light, but her eyes flickered between her friends, trying to gauge their reactions.

The three of them paused mid-bite, and Amelie immediately felt a shift in the air. They exchanged looks, but none of them seemed uncomfortable—more surprised, like they hadn’t expected her to bring up his name.

—Lando?— George echoed, a confused smile tugging at his lips. —He’s good, I guess. You know, always up to something. Same old, really. You’d have to ask him yourself, though. You guys don’t really talk anymore, right?—

Amelie forced a small laugh, nodding as nonchalantly as she could. —Yeah, I just... I don’t know. He’s been kind of off the radar lately. And with everything that’s been going on, I’ve sort of... I don’t know. Just curious, I guess. You guys still hang out with him, though?—

Alex chewed thoughtfully before replying, his voice casual. —Yeah, of course. We still see him at the races and stuff. And when we’re all in Monaco, we hang out sometimes. Honestly, though, he’s been kind of... well, distant lately. Not really his usual self. But I think that’s just Lando being Lando, you know?—

Charles nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was pondering something. —He’s been fine, I guess. A bit off, but he always is. You know how he is, he’s kind of... unpredictable. One minute he’s fine, the next he’s rolling his eyes at whatever random thing Magui says. It’s like... he’s not even interested in her, to be honest.—

Amelie’s heart skipped a beat at Charles’s words, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning in, her voice dropping slightly. —Magui? Is that... is that still his thing?—

George shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. —Yeah, I mean, she’s always around. I don’t think it’s anything serious, though. He’s not exactly head over heels for her. It’s more like, I don’t know, she just... fits the role of whatever distraction he needs. But it’s definitely not what it looks like.—

Alex chuckled, shaking his head. —Yeah, it’s actually kind of funny to watch. Like, he’s just going through the motions, but you can tell he’s not really into her. You can see it in his face. He’ll roll his eyes at something she says, or he’ll look off into the distance when she talks. It’s like he’s physically trying to avoid her. It’s hilarious.—

Amelie felt a strange sense of relief flood through her, though she hated that it came with a twinge of bitterness. —So... nothing serious, then?— she asked, trying to keep her tone casual despite the flood of emotions rising within her.

Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the underlying tension in her voice, but he didn’t comment on it. —No, nothing serious. He’s just... I don’t know. Lando’s always jumping from one thing to another. But that’s all I can tell you. You’ll have to ask him yourself about anything more.—

Amelie forced a smile, though her mind was racing. —Right, right... I guess I’ll have to do that.—

The conversation shifted after that, the boys easily returning to their jokes and casual chatter, but Amelie couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all skating around something they didn’t quite understand. They didn’t know the whole story, of course—they didn’t know how badly things had ended between her and Lando. They didn’t know about the texts Magui had sent, the angry messages that had shredded her already fragile confidence. They didn’t know how much she had cared, and how much she still missed him, despite everything.

As the night wore on, Amelie smiled and laughed with her friends, but inside, she felt like a different version of herself—someone who was trying to convince the world, and maybe even herself, that she was okay. But deep down, she knew she wasn’t.

The more she thought about Lando, the more the anger and hurt that she had buried beneath her professional life bubbled back to the surface. She didn’t want to feel this way. She wanted to move on, to let it all go. But every time someone mentioned him, every time she thought about what had happened, the raw pain returned in waves.

But for tonight, she could bury it, just for a little longer. Tonight, she had her friends, her family, and the music that had been her escape for so long.

The conversation shifted again, and Amelie tried to focus on the now, letting her friends bring her back to the moment. Still, in the back of her mind, Lando’s name lingered, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking of her, too.

But no matter how much she missed him, no matter how many times her heart screamed at her to reach out, she knew it was too late for them.

[cat-eared-rose]

It's kind of embarrassing how emotional just having a big family meal makes me wanna cry

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

My Love

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: ~600

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Pregnancy has been a rollercoaster of emotions, and the end goal is nearly here. However, you still have a few more bumps to get over. It’s a good thing you have Spencer to hold your hand through it all.

Square Filled: jennifer jareau for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Luck has always been on your side even since you understood the meaning of the word You have a loving family, a supportive sister, a degree in psychology, and a wonderful boyfriend turned husband. When JJ heard of your engagement to Spencer, she had the entire office celebrate with you two. 

She’s been your biggest supporter since you could walk. She’s older, so she’s always been there one step ahead of you, warning you of bumps and bruises along the path. Spencer has been a big supporter as well but there’s nothing like the love that comes from a sibling. She’s known you for your whole life. She knows you better than anyone.

She got married before you so she was able to offer advice, stuff that she had to suffer through. She bought a house first with her husband, so she was able to give you a list of things to look out for when you and Spencer were ready to put a down payment on a house. She had a kid before you, so you were able to be prepared when you found out you were pregnant.

The day you told her that you were pregnant, she burst with happiness. Michael finally has someone to grow up with. Sure, he has Henry but he’s older. Michael was just born so he’ll have a built-in best friend with your child. You’re not sure if you’re having a girl or a boy because you and Spencer want to be surprised.

However, pregnancy is not for the weak. At first, it was morning sickness, then it was being uncomfortable in just about anything you wore, then you got swollen feet and back pains, and now you just want the kid out. You’re nearing the end of your pregnancy where the cravings get just as bad as the back pain which is why you’re up at two in the morning. Spencer is lying in bed next to you sound asleep, and you’re trying really hard not to cry.

You’re starving but there is only one thing you’re craving. You could go up and make it yourself but your feet hurt so bad from walking all day yesterday trying to get this baby to come out. If only Spencer was up to get you some food, but you refuse to wake him up. He barely gets enough sleep as it is, and you won’t be the reason he’s so tired.

He’s a very light sleeper because of that, so he wakes up when he hears you sniffling.

“What’s wrong?” He leans over and turns the dim lamp on. “Is the baby okay?”

“The baby is fine,” you whisper.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m… craving something but I can’t go get it because my feet ache and I didn’t want to wake you because you’re tired and now you’re awake and I’m sorry,” you cry harder.

Spencer sits up and pulls you in for a comforting hug. “Baby, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” you sniffle.

“Of course. What are you craving?”

“Chocolate covered strawberries with pickles but the pickles have to be cut into spears.”

Spencer nods and kisses you. “I’ll be right back.”

It hurts to see how tired he is even though he does what you ask of him. Still, the urge for the craving is a tad bit stronger than the urge to not wake Spencer. Ten minutes later, he walks back into the bedroom holding a plate of strawberries and pickles, and you smile widely when you smell it.

“Thank you,” you say. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Anything for you, my love.” He grabs a strawberry and holds it out for you. “Now open up.” You do and he feeds you the sweet treat. “Are you happy?”

“Yes,” you say with your mouth full.

He pecks your lips and slides back underneath the covers. “Then so am I, but I’m going to go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” you say and take a bite of the pickles with the strawberries, a smile on your face.

x

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[wisteriaiswriting]

Reader That Can Bake

Words: 1757

Includes: Dipper, Mabel, Stan, Ford, Wendy, Gideon, Pacifica and Bill

Honestly, he doesn’t have the biggest sweet tooth, but being young he still craves them a bit.

Knows the basics about baking in general but only with box sets, so he’ll stay out of your way in the kitchen.

Won't ever decline anything you give him, opting to either eat them right then and there, or hide them for later. (And away, safe from Mabel.)

Normally whenever he heard the sounds of someone in the kitchen, assuming it was Mabel, he would walk the other way immediately. But now that you’re spending more time in there he’ll take the gamble of peeking in, hoping it was you baking and not Mabel ready to drag him in.

This time he was lucky, finding you washing up all your used dishes and putting away the leftover ingredients. Standing in the doorway until you noticed, waving him over. “Dipper, you’re just in time!” Hopping on the spot as you stepped out of the way, revealing a whole bunch of cooled cookies.

“I tried some different flavours this time,” Grabbing one of each to shove into his hands, which he almost dropped. “There's classic chocolate chip, white chocolate, uhh… What else?” As you rambled and thought he took a bite of each, silently ranking them favourite to least favourite, not that he’d ever tell you.

“And oh! Hazelnuts, oreos and s'mores!” “You made s’more cookies?” “Yeah, this one was a small batch, I’ll get more stuff tomorrow.”

While yes, she bakes pretty often, you’ll always be the better chef around! (And she’s not afraid to admit it, sometimes.)

This girl will never shut up about ‘How good these are!’ ‘Even Waddles loves them!’ (It’s true, you have found him scarfing down a whole pile of your baked goods.)

Occasionally (And if you let her) she’ll join you, while she enjoys baking just spending time together is enough for her.

As soon as the door opened Mabel ran off, skidding into the doorframe. Smelling something very familiar and delicious. “ARE YOU BAKING AGAIN!” Your only response was to laugh, of course she would notice, really, you’d be an idiot thinking she wouldn’t.

“Yeah, they’re in the oven right now, so I’m just cleaning up.” “I’LL HELP!” God, she was excited about your baking. “Why don’t you pile up the dirty dishes while I start the sink.” In no time you had finished the dishes, everything was clean, dried and put away.

Reaching for a hanging cabinet, but this one was just out of reach. Stretching to your limit but unable to grasp the handle, about to turn around and ask Mabel for help only to be jolted upwards. Looking down to find Mabel's toothy grin looking right back atcha.

“Whatcha grabbing? More dishes? Decorations? Is it the icing? SPRINKLES!?” Laughing once again as you grabbed, as you could guess (And Mabel.) the icing and sprinkles. Being dropped back down when you had the items. “I think they’re ready for the toppings.”

Stan doesn’t go around flaunting his love for baked goods, but he doesn’t really hide it either.

But he does openly compliment anything you make, even if it’s not his favourite, he’ll make it positive.

He may not like to spend a lot of money on anything really, but he’ll throw you a wad of cash to buy whatever you need. (As long as he gets the first taste test.)

“Where ya going toots?” Arms wrapped around your waist, his head sitting on your head. One of your hands held your car keys, well, they were Stans but he’s given you permission to take the ‘Stanmobile’ out. “Gotta buy some more ingredients.”

His body pulled away from yours, hands digging into his suit pockets before pulling out a decent wad of cash. Grabbing a few notes (Which were 100s btw) and passing them over to you, “Make me my favourite later.” “Oh I will~”

He’ll scarf down plates full of your stuff, he hasn’t eaten anything this good in years! (And no he is not exaggerating, thank you!)

Always takes something with him on every adventure he goes on. (At first he was nervous to ask, but now he’ll try to ‘bribe’ you for anything. (Both of you know he doesn’t need to.))

Part of him is curious about how well supernatural ingredients would go, he would never force you to do it, but that means he would. So at least watch over him. (But by gods, don’t let him eat anything he makes. Who knows what would happen, and you don’t want to know.)

Hearing the front door slam open you peeked out of the living room, only to find Ford stumbling by, into the kitchen with a large box. After gently shutting the door (With this amount of abuse you don’t think it’ll last much longer.) you followed him, watching him pull and lay out plenty of things on the counter.

“Hope you were going to clean up after yourself?” “AH!” Throwing something between his hands for a few seconds before calming down, “Oh! Y/N, I was, don't you worry.” “With everything you brought in here? I will.”

Quietly laughing to himself, “I don’t blame you, but how well would these bake?” “Ford, honey, I just bake, you’re the one who knows about these guys.” Gesturing to the box, “I guess you’re right.”

Very similar to Stan in the sense, she won’t go out of her way to admit her love for sweeter things but will if asked.

If you’re willing to make more she’ll take a bunch for her friends. (They all love them, even if some won’t admit it.)

Brings some to work with her, which makes her shifts actually bearable.

“I’ll see you guys later.” Lifting her hand as a quick wave before turning to leave, “Wendy!” Looking back to find Lee rushing towards her, skidding to stop just before hitting her. Throwing her a now empty container, which surprisingly enough, was still in one piece. “You gotta bring more of those snacks, they were amazing!”

“I’ll let them know.” Now that she was finally able to leave the group, she started her tract home. Pulling out her phone to send you a quick message, nothing much really. (It was a whole paragraph.) Watching you respond, pause then send the message, along with a picture. ‘Already ahead of you!’

Tapping into the image to find you back in the kitchen, flour covered every surface. There were other ingredients on the floor and everything, really. She couldn’t stop her laughter, taking a pause in her steps to catch her breath. ‘I’m on my way, don’t make a bigger mess.’

Luckily she wasn’t that far from home, and it was also a good thing that her family loved you. (They wouldn’t let you live down that image.) Letting her spend the night to help you clean and finish baking.

Absolutely will not go anywhere near the kitchen when you’re in there. (He may love you, but he also loves being clean.)

This doesn’t stop him from rushing in the second everything is cleaned up, impatiently waiting until the food is finished. (You will have to stop him from eating them hot, because he will whine about being burned.)

Will never share them with anyone else, the only exception is at the Tent of Telepathy.

Placing the hot tray onto a cooling rack before shutting the oven door, it’s been hours since you started baking. As Gideon wanted some baked goods to hand out to anyone who comes by the Tent of Telepathy, and that meant you had to bake it all.

Although he made sure to pay you for it, so it wasn’t a complete loss. But that's when you heard a door slam open and footsteps running down the hall, watching as Gideon entered the room. His first stop was the currently cooling tray of cookies, not the others that were cool and in containers.

“Gideon do–” It was too late, his hand touched the tray first. “OW!” Guiding the hand under some running water as he complained, “Why were they hot?” “I just pulled them out from the oven, those ones,” Pointing at multiple containers put to the side, “Are for you.”

Huffing as he removes his hand from the water to dry it off, grabbing the containers before leaving the room.

Honestly, she never thought about baking in general really. (There’s always been butlers or chefs, or whatever to do it for her.)

Doesn’t have the biggest sweet tooth, but will eat any of your less sweet items. (It better not be messy, otherwise she’ll (lovingly) wipe it on you.)

Sometimes she’ll sit around and watch you bake, she secretly finds it interesting but it’s highly likely she won’t join you for a while.

“What did you make this time?” Even as her face showed disinterest her tone gave her away, “This one is funfetti!” Handing over the cupcake, watching as she made her way through the wrapper. Trying to avoid the icing, although she wasn’t successful, a small chunk smeared over her fingers.

Clearly unhappy with it, the fact you were waiting next to her and no tissues or anything nearby. Reaching over to ‘subtly’ wipe the icing onto your shirt. “HEY!” “These aren’t that bad.” “Don’t ignore me!” You tried to stand in front of her, except that she kept turning as well.

“Pacifica!” “You should probably check on the other ones.” Oh yeah, you probably should.

Sometimes you forget that he can actually eat as he doesn’t do it much. (That’s until you watch him eat some deer teeth. Which is so disturbing…)

There have been so many times where he comes to bother you for some food, then just leaves with it. (You have no clue what he does with them but you can only assume someone else* is eatting them. (*Ford))

He will try to bake on his own with ‘non-human’ ingredients even if you try to stop him. (They end up inedible, even to other demons. Like fuck, he’s terrible.)

It was fucking comical how Bill entered the room, floating through the window towards the tray of cookies. Staying afloat for a few extra seconds before dropping to sit on the counter, batting his eyelashes at you. “No Bill, they’re still hot.” “WHO CARES?” Grabbing a handful (Which was like 2.) before shoving it into his mouth (Eye? Honestly man, you have no idea anymore.). “Are they good at least?” “HMM, THEY'RE ALRIGHT. COULD DO WITH SOME ꀤꈤꁅꌃꀭꀸꈤꍟꊼ.” “What.”

[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [viii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 18.351

— warnings: swearing/cursing, communication skills nowhere to be found, chronic overthinking, emotional rollercoaster, confusingly set during christmas <3

— a/n: and just like that we've crossed 100k !! its here, the big one. by far one of my favourite chapters that ive written so far!! hope you guys enjoy it!! praying yall wont hate me for this one haha once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

You didn’t miss the look Chaeyoung and Jisoo exchanged, or the way Hoseok longingly looked after Jimin as he quickly walked away to get everyone some food after you sat down, or how Jimin muttered something about how someone clearly needed something to eat. The comment didn’t bother you because he was right and you could admit as much.

The mall had never been your favourite place to go, and even less so today. The Christmas decoration put up around you seemed overly tacky and in bad taste, and you could have ripped off your ears, sick of listening to the same three Christmas songs over and over again. You closed your eyes that ached from the bright colourful lights, and scrunched your nose when your arm bumped into one of your shopping bags. Your patience hung by a string, the fibers breaking with every passing second. Everything hurt, from your head to your arms and your feet.

Nothing was right, and there seemed to be no end to it.

“Fries?” 

Jimin specifially offered them to you, placing two medium plates of golden fries in the middle of the table. You took him up on it, taking two and throwing them into your mouth. The fries were bland and not salty enough but you took three more pieces, shoving your face full. As if the grease and carbs would fix anything. 

“Do you wanna try the thrift store that Ji suggested?” Chaeyoung asked, choosing her words carefully, and you cringed, shaking your head. 

“No.”

The silence continued, and you didn’t miss the looks your friends exchanged. There was clearly a conversation going on over your head, but you didn’t care, reaching for one fry after the other.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be fine,” Jimin said in the end, putting his arm around your shoulder. Bold, but when was he not. “Don’t be so down. That one dress- the beige one looked great on you!”

“Yeah, but also, they don’t care about what you wear,” Jisoo continued, not allowing you to even begin to disagree.

“And you still have time to find the perfect thing, right? If you do decide that the dress isn’t up to standard. Didn’t you get some stuff online too?” Hoseok asked, trying to get you to look at him, but you just closed your eyes and pulled your lips into a line.

They didn’t get it. But telling them that would be of no use, just like how their words didn’t encourage you the slightest bit. 

“I promise you Kook’s parents are really the sweetest people I’ve-”

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,” you mumbled, cutting off Jimin. You rubbed your eyes until you saw black spots. With a sigh, you leaned back. “I’ll figure it out, I think.”

There was no confidence in your words. To you, it seemed like your life was about to end, all over a stupid outfit you couldn’t put together. The thought almost made you laugh and cry at the same time. This was as ridiculous as it could get. 

“What did Kook say?” Chaeyoung asked, and you frowned.

“About what?”

She blinked at you, her brows creasing together. “Well, have you talked to Kook about any of this? How you’re worried about meeting his parents?”

You pressed your mouth into a line, and you didn’t even know where to begin. It seemed futile to you to explain that you possibly couldn’t tell Jungkook about all of the thoughts suffocating your mind. You would look stupid, like an absolute fool. You would look like you cared, and really, you didn’t. It would weird him out—how much you stressed about it, how much it was on your mind. But then again, really, actually, you didn’t care at all. You just were… especially irritable these days. Hormones were raging—your period, of course, greeting you just a day prior.

“No,” you exhaled, shaking your head. You didn’t know what exactly you were denying—you being stressed about meeting his parents, or you not talking about it to him. Probably both. “He’s busy with his stuff. He’s got a paper to finish- it’s fine.”

And even though you closed your eyes, you knew your friends were looking at each other. There was a carefulness with which they spoke to you, and you did feel bad. Just nothing seemed to lift your spirits.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in… a good mood these days,” you told them, getting more annoyed at yourself for being the way you were. You hid your face in your hands. “I don’t know what’s up with me.”

“It’s fine,” Jimin assured you. “We know you’re stressed.”

Jisoo placed an arm around you, leaning her shoulder against yours. She opened her mouth before closing again, ultimately she decided to speak. 

“What if… you don’t go?” 

“Ji,” Jimin whispered, looking at her as if she had just suggested something criminal.

“I’m just saying— it’s stressing her out so much, maybe she shouldn’t go.” Jisoo shrugged, believing her suggestion to be rather harmless. “She can meet his parents another time, right?”

You looked at her. She grimaced, apologetic, about to backpedal, taking your expression as offence. But you waved her off. Her suggestion was meant well, you knew that. It would also be more than a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it too. Of course, you had. But you couldn’t do it. Not when the image of Narae popped into your mind every time you did consider it. 

“Okay, fine,” Jisoo sighed, relenting. “But I’m just saying he’ll understand if you don’t want to go. It’s not like you guys are getting married.”

Chaeyoung mumbled something to her, but you couldn’t hear it. If you had to guess she told her to lay it off, which you were admittedly thankful for.

“I don’t even have gifts,” you groaned, remembering that your outfit wasn’t the only issue plagueing your mind. “Do I bring an actual gifts? Or just wine? Flowers? Something more personal? I don’t fucking know.”

“Do you have to bring them anything?” Hoseok asked, frowning. “I mean yeah, I guess it’s Christmas and you’re meeting them for the first time, but I don’t know, I’m not sure if you have to bring them anything.”

“I don’t think you do. They’re just happy to meet you, I promise,” Jimin said, squeezing your shoulder, but somehow, his answer annoyed you even more. Because what if he was wrong? And they use it as a reason as to why they didn’t like you because you showed up empty handed? Poor and rude? You wouldn’t even take a single step in their home. And even if Jimin was right, that they were just happy to meet you—it seemed even worse. Because all you had to show for yourself to Jungkook’s parents then would be…. yourself. 

And what if that wasn’t enough?

You groaned, leaning back again. Everything was making your situation only worse, giving you an even bigger headache, feeding the heavy pit in your stomach. And as you spiraled, you didn’t notice the rather obvious text Chaeyoung send, or the even more obvious way Jimin’s phone lit up on the table to display it, just for him to quickly grab it and start typing. Jisoo leaned over to look, and Chaeyoung quickly mumbled something into Hoseok’s ear. You wouldn’t even notice the way Chaeyoung jumped when you spoke suddenly again,

“Let’s just finish eating and go home. I wanna go home.” 

No one protested.

By the end, the fries were gone and the grease had eaten through the recycled brown paper plates, and your mood wasn’t much better, still the same level of annoyance always buzzing in the back of your mind. Grabbing the bags from the various shops you had walked in and out of with your friends today, you made your way out of the mall. Stepping outside, you hugged yourself, the wind harsher than the past few days. 

“What way is your car again?” you asked, teeth gritting. Your question was aimed at Chaeyoung, but you didn’t have the nerve to look at her. With the tip of your boot, you scraped against the concret, enjoying the way it rolled back and forth. You lifted your head when no one would answer, confused by the silence.

“Oh, uh,” Chaeyoung began, glancing at Jimin who was typing away on his phone. “Give us… a minute.”

She said it as if it was a question, gesturing for you to wait. You looked over to Jisoo and Hoseok for some sort of explanation, but they both kept their mouths shut.

“Where’s your girlfriend’s car?”

Hoseok blushed, and you knew he still wasn’t used to the development of his and Chaeyoung’s relationship. It was cute, and it did make you smile a little.

“Just tell me.” 

You tried nice. Nice didn’t work.

“I-I don’t know.” 

You sighed, your hands on your hips, shopping bags knocking on your legs. The cold wavered your voice.

“Ji?”

But rather than even say anything, or make an attempt to stall you, she waved you off, flicking her wrist back and forth. At least, Hoseok and Chaeyoung tried to dismiss you subtly.

“Oh my God, what are you guys looking at? Can we just go home, I’m really cold here and I just wanna-”

“Ah, yes, he’s here!” Jimin exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oops.”

You stopped, not needing a second to understand. Jisoo punched his arm. 

“You texted Jeon?”

If you were upset and annoyed before, you were even more so now. You leaned forward, as if the reality weighed down on you and physically pushed you. Your eyes darted back and forth between your friends before ultimately landing on Jimin, who was shrinking in on himself.

“Are you guys for real?” you hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You could have ripped out your hair. “But why?”

Everyone looked to Chaeyoung. “We- we think it’d be good if you talk to him. You’re clearly stressed about meeting his parents, so why not talk about it?”

She added on a smile, and you closed your eyes, groaning. 

“Guys, I’m fine.” You dug your hands through your hair, looking over your shoulder, relieved to see that he was nowhere. “Where is he? Is he here already? Tell him to go home. He has a paper to-”

An arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Go home.”

“Damn, hi, it’s nice to see you too, cabbage,” Jungkook laughed, grinning at you even as you frowned at him. He pinched your nose, and you didn’t even have it in you to swat his hand aside, closing your eyes instead. 

“You guys weren’t kidding. She’s in a bad mood.”

Your frown deepened, mouth setting into a thin line. Jungkook squeezed your shoulder, quietly apologising to you for his comment, but his smile remained on his lips. 

“Alright, I think—” Chaeyoung hooked her arm into Hoseok’s. “—it’s time to go.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Jungkook said, nodding to confirm his own words. “Get home safe.”

“Great, text us when you get home,” Jisoo said, waving at you. “We love you, Y/N! And oh, nice scarf!”

Jungkook laughed, thanking her.

“Yeah, good luck, Kook! Also love ya, Y/N!” Jimin laughed before taking off, sprinting ahead, scared you might just throw one of your bags after him. (Which you were strongly considering) The others waved you goodbye, and even though you were more than ticked off, you did the same, mumbling a goodbye their way. God knows they had put up with your attitude with enough grace today already. You sighed once they left your sight, shrugging off Jungkook.

You looked at him and your gaze softened, if only a little. Even more so when you saw it, wrapped around his neck so prettily. There was something very messy about him today—his hair not done in its usual way, hanging into his eyes, getting longer each time you saw him, the collar of his coat not folded down properly. If you had to guess, he had walked out the moment he got the text from Jimin. But he had thought of your scarf, looped it around his neck carefully. Looking at him now, out in the cold, you were glad you had invested the time into learning how to knit. The scarf suited him, the red matching him well. You were almost tempted to knit another one, one in every colour.

“You’re wearing the scarf.”

“Of course,” he returned, smiling at you, and you wondered if his cheeks hurt, red from the cold. 

The thought embarrassed you. You looked down, returning to rolling the tip of your boot on the conrete, back and forth, back and forth.

“Go home.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s go home together.”

He reached to take the bags from you, but you pulled away, lifting your head. “No, Jeon, go home. I’m fine.”

Jungkook shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. This wasn’t going to be easy, he realised. “And how will you get home?”

His question made you frown, as if that was the issue at hand right now. You almost scoffed.

“I’ll walk-”

“Right, because walking in the cold is such a good idea, hm?

“Fine, I’ll take the bus.”

“Do you even know where the next bus station is?” 

“I can look it up.”

“Or you can just, you know,“ he leaned towards you, and you couldn’t back off, “not be so stubborn and let me just give you a ride home.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head. Why was he being oh so frustrating? Why couldn’t he make this easy for you? Why wasn’t he at all discouraged by your behaviour? It didn’t make any sense to you. He should be annoyed with you and your attitude, infuriated because you were being difficult for no real reason. And yet, he smiled and laughed at you, showed you patience. It was strange to you, unexpected.

“I never asked you to pick me up.” 

It was like you were a goddamn teenager, fighting with her parents, trying your very best to tick them off. It was like you wanted him to be mad at you, and in some ways, in some real ways, maybe you did. You felt sorry for your friends about your attitude, but not with Jungkook somehow. For some reason, you couldn’t extend the same empathy to him. At least not in this moment.

He didn’t say anything, hesitated, his brows creasing together. His eyes darted to the ground before ultimately finding you again, tongue in his cheek, nodding. For a moment, you thought you won, did it. 

“Yeah, you didn’t,” Jungkook said, taking one two three steps in your direction, slowly prying the shopping bags from you. “But I’m still here to pick you up.”

And when he met you with a smile, you knew there wasn’t anything you could do. You let your head hang, as tears shot into your eyes. It had never happened before, you were never one quick to cry, but right now you felt like it. You blinked them away, not allowing Jungkook to know.

He took your silence as a sign of defeat, which it was. Very much so. He had won, and you had to admit that you were actually relieved. That he had proven you wrong, that he hadn’t just left after you had repeatedly insisted he should, or gotten annoyed and sick with you. 

Jungkook shifted all of the shopping bags into one hand, using his free one to grab yours. Like he would, of course he would, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before putting your hands into his coat pocket to keep warm, together. You could have begun crying again.

“Be a good girlfriend, alright?” he told you, leading you to his car, and you scoffed, hoping your voice didn’t sound as unstable and shaky as you felt.

“Be a good girlfriend?” you repeated, raising a brow. Jungkook was quick to see his mistake and correct himself,

“I mean, let me be a good boyfriend to my girlfriend and pick her up after a—” He hesitated, squinting as if he was searching for the right word. “—fun, right?”

There was something inherently cheeky and smug about Jungkook. But you couldn’t quite take offence to any of it, nodding, even if you knew that today wasn’t the funnest day. (And you were to blame.)

“Fun day at the mall with her friends.”

You pressed your lips together. “But what about your paper?”

He paused and looked at you before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done. I’ll finish it at your place.”

His hand squeezed yours, and you hated how warm he made you feel. How the warmth spread from your chest to the the tips of your ears and feet. How even if you tried, he remained patient with you. You hated it because it made it so much harder, for you not to fall for him again and again. You hated it because you almost believed him that you could be one of those stupidly in love couples that held hands in their pockets and made each other scarfs.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you climbed inside, thankful for the few seconds you had to yourself as he loaded your shopping bag into the trunk. Without a word, he gave you his phone, and by now, you knew the drill. 

You unlocked his phone in second before quickly typing in your current location into Google maps. Your address popped up at the top, bookmarked, when you tapped to enter the destination. Handing him his phone back, you wondered what Jungkook’s password meant, 09052020. It seemed so oddly specific, but you didn’t bother asking.

“You should show me what you got.”

The water remained in your mouth a second longer before you swallowed it, slowly screwing the top back on the bottle, eyes set on Jungkook. You shook your head and leaned against your kitchen counter. He was just a few steps away from you, sitting on your couch, taking up all the space, arms spread left and right. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so.��

He gave you a look, as if to say oh please! His head rolled back for a second.

“I think you should.”

You didn’t respond, pulling your phone out of your pocket instead. Deeming your silence as enough of an answer, you scrolled through your phone, opening the group chat between your friends and you, your feet crossing at your ankle. But before you could even read one text-

“But isn’t that why you were in a bad mood?”

It seemed brave of Jungkook to address it so openly. Or maybe just incredibly honest. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t seem afraid at all that you might just dip back into your bad mood at the mention of it and come out bats swinging. It was admirable in some ways. You didn’t rememeber him to be this confrontative a few months ago when you started this, him and you. He seemed to have found a confidence with you now, convinced he knew the ins and outs of you. Maybe he did. He probably did, in some ways. You couldn’t say if you liked it all that much.

You snorted, an attempt to make light of the situation. “Yeah, so why bring it up again?”

Jungkook reached his hands out to you, a gesture for you to come his way. You thought about it for a moment before abandoning both your phone and the water bottle on the kitchen counter and moving over. He scooted to the edge of your couch to allow you to step between his legs. His hands held yours, thumbs brushing the inner part of your wrist, back and forth.

“My parents don’t care,” he told you, staring up at you with his big eyes, squeezing your hands as he spoke, physically stressing his words. “They really don’t care, I promise you. They’re just excited to meet you. And so am I, excited.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in with you and take effect. 

“But I know you care and you’re stressed about it,” Jungkook mumbled, and you couldn’t look at him, eyes finding the floor instead, right where your carpet curled up because sometimes your couch would dig into it and flip it up. It was so very embarrassing that he knew how much you cared. It felt like you were ripping out your heart and letting him inspect it. You wanted to correct him, set the record straight that really, you didn’t care at all whatsoever! but it felt like a cheap attempt, even more humiliating.

“So why don’t you show me?” he asked, shaking your hands to get you to look at him. You didn’t want to but did anyway. His gaze was soft, just like his smile, and his hair fell into his eyes. You brushed it away. It made his smile widen, so much so he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

It was sealed for you then.

“Alright, fine,” you sighed, defeated, moving away from him to dig through your shopping bags. “Look away.”

“What? Why?”

“What do you mean?” you frowned. “I’m changing.”

Jungkook’s features morphed from a frown to a smile in a second before he ultimately began laughing. “Are you really gonna be too embarrassed to change in front of me?” He gave you a moment to deny it. “I’ve seen and touched-”

“Oh my God, just turn around,” you hissed, and for some reason, your cheeks were as hot as the sun. “Either that, or I won’t try on anything.”

He exhaled the most dramatic sigh he could, making a point to show you that he even pressed his hands to his eyes. Just for that, you wanted to kick him. But you should have known that Jungkook wasn’t quite done, needing to squeeze in one more comment, purely to annoy you and nothing more. There wasn’t anything serious about it at all, no deeper meaning.

“Are you gonna be like this when we’re married with kids?”

You froze, arms up and your face mushed together by your sweater and half of your body exposed to the naked air with only your bra to show for. He wasn’t serious, you knew. There was lightness and an obvious teasing embedded with his words. You doubted Jungkook even expected a response from you, probably just enjoyed knowing he made you flustered even if he couldn’t see it. And yet, your heart began pounding and your hands sweating and your cheeks burning and your mind reeling for any possible retort you could offer. Before you could stutter something, he spoke again,

“Sorry.”

The smile was evident in his voice, and when you finally peeled off your sweater, you turned out to be right. You shook your head, throwing your sweater at him before you could think better of it. It hit him in the face.

“Ow, cabbage! That’s not fair, I have my eyes-” 

“I’m so close to kicking you out, you know?” you mumbled, keeping your voice quiet as if raising it by any means was dangerous. You pulled off your pants and your stockings you had layered underneath for some extra warmth.

“I said I’m sorry, cabbage.” 

But Jungkook sounded far from sincere. You didn’t bother responding, grabbing one of the shopping bags and slipping on the sweater you had thrifted. It was off the shoulders and this warm midnight blue colour, rich and beautiful and cozy. You moved to your old dresser and pulled out the black maxi skirt you had thought to combine it with. The outfit was simple, but with the right accesoires (ones you would still have to buy which the thought of it already gave you a headache), it could work. At least, it could in theory because when you looked at yourself in your full body mirror (which you had thrifted when you had first moved in), you frowned.

“Can I look?”

You gave a grunt in response, still looking at your reflection as if you had put together the most hideous outfit possible. It wasn’t much of a yes or no, so for a few seconds Jungkook hesitated, but he slowly peeled his eyes open.

“Oh, cabbage! You look so amazing-”

“No.”

It was as simple as that for you, shaking your head.

“What? But you look-”

“I don’t like it,” you said, already moving to take off the skirt. “Close your eyes.”

You expected some sort of protest from Jungkook, but he actually did as you said. Just as quick as you had decided that the outfit wouldn’t work, you peeled it off of you. You rummaged through your next shopping bags, looking at the pieces you had gotten—a cream knit sweater and white maxi skirt. But all of a sudden, you hated it. You clearly remembered loving the clothes in the store, giving the outfit a couple spins and scrutiniscing it from head to toe until it was deemed worthy of your money. But right now as you looked at it, you felt quite the opposite.

With a sigh, you pulled the last shopping bag towards you. It had the dress your friends had mentioned you should wear. This time, you didn’t inspect it any further, not having the nerve for it. So you just bunched up the fabric and slipped it on. But you didn’t tell Jungkook you were finished changing. Instead you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror first.

Jisoo had found it for you—a maxi slip dress. It was in a beautiful and rich wine red colour, oozing warmth, and soft to the touch. The satin flowed down your body, hugging your curves, and reflecting your dim living room lights like water. Lace was stitched along the neckline, which otherwise probably would have been a little too low given the occasion. The straps securing the dress were tied up into small ribbons around your shoulders, giving it a more dainty and playful look. The slit on the left side reached up until your knee, allowing the fabric to move along with your body in harmony. It was a beautiful dress, made for any occasion with the correct accessoires and styling. 

You were objectively and undeniably beautiful in it. 

And yet, you stared at yourself as if it wasn’t, brows knitted together and lips pursed in a pout, eyes wandering up and down. It wasn’t insecurity—you felt great and comfortable in the dress. But something about it just wasn’t right. You tried imaging yourself all dolled up in it, hair and makeup done to your liking, but the frown remained. It wasn’t perfect enough.

You shook your head, moving to take it off. When you turned on your heel, you looked straight at Jungkook, and Jungkook looked straight at you. His eyes were big and wide and set on you, his mouth agape and curling up into a smile. You gasped, both in surprise and upset.

“W-why are you looking?” you hissed, feeling the heat crawl up your neck, and you threw your arms around yourself.

“I’m sorry. You- you just took so long, cabbage. And so I looked and…” Jungkook finished his sentence with a simple shrug and smile. You frowned at his answer, shaking your head.

“Close your eyes,” you spat through gritted teeth, turning around to change out of the dress. “I’m changing-”

“What? Why?” Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, jumping up from his seat and moving your way, shaking his head. “You look amazing! Please don’t change. I love this dress on you!”

He stopped short in front of you, turning you around and taking your hands into his. 

“This dress suits you so well,” he whispered as if it was some sort of secret. You looked to the mirror behind you, inspected yourself, eyes shooting up and down. Jungkook stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers interlacing in front of the soft of your belly. He pushed you to lean fully against him, his eyes scanning every inch of you.

“You’re so pretty. So very pretty.” 

His words tasted like Christmas chocolate, were thick with honey and sugar, stuck to your teeth. They were bad. Horrible. For you and your heart. Because they sounded so very believable. 

“You look incredible.”

He finished with a kiss to the back of your head, and you didn’t know where to look. You placed your hands on his, tentatively, and he was quick to take them into his, scoop them up and hold them tight. He had to know, you thought to yourself, how hard your heart was beating.

“Don’t you like it?”

You met his gaze in the mirror, mouth settled into a line. 

“I like the dress,” you said, tilting your head. 

“But?”

“I don’t like it for…”

“Meeting my parents?” Jungkook supplied when you wouldn’t finish your sentence, and you didn’t answer, averting your gaze instead. “What do you not like about it?”

You closed your eyes, feeling so very silly. Because you couldn’t say. You didn’t know. There shouldn’t be anything to dislike about the dress, nothing about it was wrong—you loved every little detail, and even more how you felt in it.

“What do you think?” 

“I don’t think my opinion really matters here,” Jungkook laughed, and you peeled your eyes open, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was annoying. Just couldn’t provide you with a simple answer when he even has already voiced his thoughts. “But I think you look really pretty in this dress.”

You scrunched your nose. “How pretty?”

“So pretty I wouldn’t mind going blind now.”

You smiled, no, grinned. He was so stupid.

“So pretty I can’t believe you don’t like it.” 

You tilted your head to the side.

“So pretty I don’t want you to ever take it off again.” 

He pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder, nose burying into your hair, words mumbled into your skin, and hands beginning to wander further south, scrunching the fabric. You let him.

”So pretty I want to take a picture of you and print it out and hang it up above my bed and also keep another one in my wallet and change my background picture to-”

“O-okay, enough!” you said, pushing him away from you because your limbs were beginning to tingle and burn, and his touch was sending shocks through your entire body. Even more so, his hands were beginning to go to places he shouldn’t, not right now at least. You made sure to keep him at an arm’s length, palm pressing into his chest, in fear he’d simply close the distance if you didn’t physically stop him.

“You’re so ridiculous, Jeon,” you said, shaking your head, laughing a little. “You can never be serious, can you?”

“But I am! I’m very serious! Looking at you makes me wanna-”

You were quick to shake your head, hands pressing to your ears because no no no, you didn’t want to know! All while you were smiling, grinning almost. Without realising it, Jungkook had done the impossible—lifted your mood, made you laugh when you felt irritated and annoyed by everything before. 

“Fine, I won’t tell you!” Jungkook sighed, dramatically rolling his eyes. You looked at him, lowering your hands, your smile cemented on your lips.

“You’re so stupid, Jeon,” you mumbled, scrunching your nose, and he gasped in faux upset.

“That’s so mean, cabbage!”

“Oh, just shut up.”

Jungkook slung his arms around your middle, doing so before you could even think to stop him. His chin dropped to your shoulder, hands scopping up yours again and eyes meeting in the mirror.

“So, what do we think?”

You raised a brow. “Now, it’s we? I thought your thoughts didn’t matter-”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “Fine, what do you think?”

And you inspected yourself again, gaze wandering up and down. You didn’t know what it was, but the dress seemed different now. It was still the same fabric, same cut, nothing had changed, but you remembered why you had bought the dress, why you had taken Jisoo up on her offer to try it on when she had shown it to you. Because it was beautiful, even more so with you in it.

“Is this the dress?” Jungkook whispered into your ear, and you knew he was hoping for a yes. 

You tilted your head to the side, heart beating faster when you opened your mouth. Because yes, it was. The dress, choosing it, it was another step closer to meeting Jungkook’s parents, another hurdle out of the way. Your eyes met his in the mirror, his face so close to yours. The two of you standing there together, you almost could convince yourself you were an actual couple.

“Yeah, it is.”

He beamed, tightening his arms around you, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, good, I’m glad.”

You lowered your gaze, and you wondered if he maybe feared you wouldn’t go because you couldn’t find anything to wear. If maybe that was the reason for why he came so quickly because he didn’t want you to use that excuse. Because otherwise he would have to explain to his precious and perfect parents why his girlfriend refused to meet them-

“How does the 22nd sound to you by the way?” Jungkook asked, pulling you out of your trains of thoughts, almost as if he knew. He mumbled the words into your skin, and you felt every move of his lips. “To meet my parents, I mean.”

Just eight days.

“Y-yeah, that… should work,” you returned, breathless and high pitched, eyes finding the floor. He stared at you in the reflection, nudging you to do the same. You hesitated, but did as he said, breath hitching in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you, oh so sincere and genuine.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

There was something assuring about the way he said it. If anyone elses told you these words, it would do you no good, bring you no relief. But when he did, it did. It was silly really.

“I promise you.”

“Yeah, really, Jeon?” you laughed shallowly, tucking a strand behind your ear and swallowing. “You promise me?”

And as if looking at your mere reflection just wasn’t enough for him, Jungkook turned you around by your hips, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

“I promises you, cabbage. I won’t leave you for one second, alright? Hell, I will drive you there and home again, okay? I’ll be there with you for every second of the day, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go back to bed, glued to your side, so much so you’ll be so annoyed by me that you’ll want me gone. You won’t even go the bathroom on your own, okay?” He paused for a second, scrunching his nose. “I’ll make sure you will have the most non awkward but perfect and fun evening possible.”

His phrasing made you laugh, ebbed the waves of anxiety crashing onto your mind over and over again when you thought a little too much about the next week. His parents, him and you, in one room. 

“It’s gonna be great.”

Jungkook smiled at you, a little too bright and too wide. You returned it to the best of your abilities, letting him pull you back into a hug, eyes falling shut.

“Okay, I believe you,” you told him, hearing his heart beating in his chest. “For once.”

He tightened his arms around you.

(“Do you think it will have snowed by then?” he asked you when the intro to the new episode of Avatar began playing on his laptop. You looked up, eyes catching his, your head rested against his chest and his arms around you.

“What?”

“By the 22nd I mean. Do you think it will have snowed by then?”

You frowned, thinking of the last few winters. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He thought about your answer for a few more seconds, looking off to the side before returning your gaze. “I hope. I’d like to spend a proper white Christmas with you.”

“Pray to the Gods then,” you said. “Chances aren’t so good.”

The past few years it had always only snowed in January.

“Oh, I do, every day,” Jungkook laughed, and you hummed, focusing back on the episode and missing the way his gaze softened at your sight.)

“Okay, so I’ll be back right before New Year,” Chaeyoung said, giving her calendar one last look before snapping it close again. “Who of us is gonna be here?”

Hoseok and you both let out affirmative noises, and Jimin raised his hand in a yes as well, mouth stuffed with his sandwich. You scooted closer to the table to let a guy squeeze through as he made his way to the lunch table with his friends, a tray full of bland and dry cafeteria food.

“I’m not sure yet,” Jisoo said, taking a handful of grapes from her purple grape shaped lunch box and plopping each one into her mouth. “My sister asked if I wanted to celebrate New Year’s with her. But maybe she’ll go over to her girlfriend’s. She isn’t sure yet. I’ll text you guys?”

“I’ll be here the entire holidays,” Namjoon sighed. “I still have finals.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” you said, offering him a smile. He waved you off, mumbling something about how at least he was almost finished up with it all. 

“Well, at least we will be spending New Year’s together, right?” Jimin said with a smile.

You took a sip from your green tea, needing warmth because your University never turned on the heaters, preferring their students to freeze. Where did your tuition money go? 

“Okay, but how about Christmas eve for everyone else? When are you guys heading back home again?” Hoseok asked, shovelling his protein oatmeal into his mouth. “You’re going tonight, right, Ji? With Jennie?”

“Yeah, our train’s booked for 8 pm.”

“I’ll go on the 23rd,” Jimin said, and Chaeyoung echoed the same. 

“You’re going tomorrow, right?” she asked Hoseok, and he nodded. “When are you meeting Kook’s parents again, Y/N? The 22nd?”

“Yeah.” You played with the lip of your paper cup, feeling the warmth of your tea. Your heart grew a little heavier, scared one of them would ask when you’d go meet your parents. Because you weren’t, at least not on Christmas eve. Both of them had to work, unable to take a day off. It was an irrational fear, you were aware. Because your friends knew that very well. They’d never ask, but your heart didn’t understand.

“That’s- oh my God, that’s in four days, huh?” Jisoo gasped, and the horror and terror gripping you must have reflected on your face because she was quick to interject. “Oh, sorry. No, it’s gonna be great, Y/N. I don’t know why I said that. That was stupid.”

“You’re still anxious about it, huh?” Hoseok mumbled, and though he worded it like a question, all of you knew the answer.

“Hard not to be,” you said, voice a little short and curt. “It comes in… waves.”

Namjoon patted your shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Chaeyoung reached for your hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re all gonna be there for you if it does somehow go wrong—which I highly, highly doubt might I add.”

“Well, not Jisoo. She’s gonna be home, busy showing off her Jennie,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation but it sounded just slightly off.

“What? I can’t be there for you from home?” Jisoo gasped, and before you could question how she’d do that, she continued. “I’m there for you too, telepathically! Jennie too! In your heart! Always! Over the phone! Don’t doubt us!”

You laughed a little, mouthing an apology.

“But you definitely won’t need us,” Jimin said. “Because it’s gonna be fine. Especially because Kook’s gonna make sure of it, okay?”

Before you could return something, your eyes were drawn to the doors.

Oh.

Your friends followed your gaze.

Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-

But it wasn’t Narae. 

It was Taehyung. 

He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.

“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.

“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.

“How would I know?”

“You’re his girlfriend.”

“So?”

“Go find out.”

“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”

Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”

“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”

“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”

“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!

But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.

But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”

Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”

Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head. 

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.

“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.

“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him. 

“Ow!”

“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong. 

“We weren’t arguing.” 

And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping. 

Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it. 

“Is everything-”

“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”

Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”

And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd. 

“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.

You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”

There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that. 

You knew it was about you. It had to be. Taehyung had glanced at your direction. You hadn’t imagined it, that much you were sure of. And the fact Jungkook hadn’t been able to look at you cemented it for you. Your heart quickened, a certain question coming to the front of your mind.

What if Jungkook didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore?

Maybe it had finally clicked with him—what it meant if you met his parents. How ridiculous it was. Because you weren’t his girlfriend. It was his parents after all. How stupid all of it was actually. Not just you meeting his parents, but the entire contract you had. How far it had gone, too far.

You pressed your lips together, a knot forming in your throat. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you now. Maybe you should be prepared for the very worst. Maybe this was it. Impact incoming! The fall was nearing its end, your end.

Your hands began shaking, curling around the edge of the table for stability. Panic built up within you, panic that really shouldn’t build up at all, you knew. Your friends blurred into an incohesive mess in front of you.

Oh God.

You didn’t see Jungkook for the rest of the day, or the one after that. In fact, you didn’t hear from him at all, until almost two days later. Maybe you should have reached out first—you did think about it. But you simply couldn’t, your hands shaking whenever you’d open your chat with him, your old messages staring back at you almost mockingly. Because what if he told you he wanted to end it? What if this was how it would end because you couldn’t wait and recklessly send a message?

There was a few seconds of silence, the sound of his breathing coming in through unsteadily. You gripped your phone tighter.

“Hey.”

Jungkook still sounded the same, and for some reason, you were surprised. Why you expected him to sound different, you didn’t know. 

“Hi,” you returned, swallowing because it was your voice, in fact, that sounded odd. At least it did to you. You cleared your throat.

Usually, he’d make some joke, ask you about your day, how you were doing, where you were, if you had watched the videos he’d sent you yet, eaten already. Usually, your conversation would be much lighter, easier. Right now, you felt the air hanging between you, pulling your legs closer to your chest as you waited and waited. He had called you, he would have to speak first.

“I’m sorry I didn’t join you guys for lunch the other day,” Jungkook mumbled, and you closed your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you said, a waver to your voice and you couldn’t decide if it was because you felt cold, even though you were tucked into your bed, or because you felt uncertain of it all, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, the deep sea awaiting you on the other side, waves crashing up on you. 

Neither of you said anything. 

Your throat grew dry, the questions coming back up again within you. Was he going to tell you over the phone? That he didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore. Maybe even that he wanted to call this entire thing off. That he’d realised this wasn’t worth it anymore, doing all of this to win a stupid bet he’d made with Taehyung months ago. It had gotten too exhausting, you had gotten too exhausting for him. Let’s just end it here, tell everyone you’d just fallen out of love. Hell maybe he’d be even willing to tell everyone the truth, how they’d been fooled. It had all been an act! How fun! How could you all think he was in love with-

“Everything’s alright.”

You paused. “What?”

“I-” Jungkook faltered, letting out a laugh. It came through oh so light and clear. Just not quite genuine. Or maybe you were imagining it, your mind dissecting every of his words. “I’m just trying to say- things are alright. It’s gonna be okay.”

And for some reason, you knew the words weren’t meant to reassure you. But him. He needed it right now, more than you. You blinked, nodded as if he could see.

“Yeah, everything’s alright,” you repeated, quietly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

What exactly he referred to, you weren’t sure. And you weren’t going to ask. He’d tell you when he wanted you to know, when he was ready. Truth be told, you weren’t even entirely sure if you were ready for it, couldn’t say either where your confidence that it’d be alright came from. 

“It will, right?” he laughed again, that same laugh. It came through now, the tinge of uncertainty swinging with his voice. 

You added a small smile, reassurance. “Of course, it will. Always has.”

Jungkook waited a beat, thought about it for a second. “Yeah, no, yeah you’re right.”

And then, you both went back to silence again. You were the one to break it, doing so before you could think better of it and retreat. The question slipped so quickly past your lips, came out of you with the answer to it packaged within already. For once, you dared something, held out your heart.

“Do you want to come over?”

The question seemed alright at first. He’d tell you he was already on his way, in fact. Had you not heard the engine this entire time? Actually, look outside! How silly of you, he had gotten you again. You’d laugh, buzz him up while telling him how annoying he was. He’d fall into your arms, coat and scarf and shoes still on. There’d be no time for you to tell him to at least take off his shoes because he’d knock you over with his entire weight. But you’d hold him up, if not barely and struggling heavily. You’d do it, and you’d do it with a smile. He’d press a kiss to your lips and ask you again if things would just be fine. And you’d do the same as you did on the phone, like a good girlfriend does, you’d reassure him over and over again until you’d be too tired and fall asleep together. Things would truly be alright, you’d meet his parents and maybe resolve it all. Maybe he and you could be something, more. Maybe he meant it, all of it, the gestures and words and kisses. He and you, together, it could be possible-

“I’m sorry—” You wanted him to stop then. He didn’t need to elaborate. It was enough. You bit down on your tongue, hard. “I’m… just really tired today.”

Jungkook hesitated, spoke slowly, and you wanted to laugh it off, tell him it was alright and to go to sleep, but your throat knotted into a terrible mess. 

He didn’t want you to meet his parents.

“Hm.”

It was the only response you could offer. Because if you spoke, he would know, and he couldn’t know—the tears that shot into your eyes.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, and wondered if your reassurance had done anything at all. If not actually you had needed it, even more than he did. 

“I think- classes was exhausting, so yeah. You know, right? So I’m gonna go to bed now,” Jungkook said, and you nodded, as if he could see you, and if you checked, you’d realise it was just eight. You bit your tongue harder.

He never liked you.

“Okay,” you squeaked out, your voice a few pitches too high. He had to know, you were sure of it. Anyone would know, even a drunk Jimin could figure it out. It was blatantly obvious, and you pressed your hand harder against your mouth, scared as you awaited what he’d say. You wouldn’t know how to answer his questions if he asked you why you cried. It would be utterly humiliating to admit why—that you knew you never meant anything to him beyond what you’d agreed upon, but that he did to you. So much, in fact. 

“Goodnight-”

You ended the call, your phone displayed his name for a few more seconds before you tossed it aside, uncaring that it bounced off your bed and you’d have to look for it later on the floor. A part of you wanted to laugh, outright laugh out loud, laugh so loud because maybe it would drown it out. Because were you not just silly? Stupid? Even more so for the tears that rolled down your face and stained your duvet three shades darker. Clear evidence of your silliness, your delusion, your unwavering and foolish hope. 

It embarrassed and humiliated you, how quickly the tears came, how his words had crashed onto you, ship-wrecked you, buried you under. His words hurt, and his dismissal even more. Two words had been enough, had pierced your heart and left you tiptoeing a cliff. Jungkook had more power than you thought he did, power he shouldn’t be holding over your head and heart to begin with. Power he shouldn’t have because you didn’t have it over him.

A text awaited you one morning, just a day before the 22nd.

[Jeon - 07:01 AM] : can i come over later tonight?

And a text was all it took.

Jungkook was not even a second late. Someone was in a hurry to get this over with, it almost made you laugh. Your doorbell rang the moment the clock turned seven. Still, you shrieked, hesitated, stared at your front door like you hadn’t known he’d come, like you hadn’t expected him to come.

You busied yourself with your phone, swiping back and forth, as he climbed up the stairs, your back turned to the door. You just couldn’t watch as he stepped inside. This was it. He’d tell you that he’d realised this had gotten too far, out of hand. You wouldn’t have to meet his parents tomorrow, you had done your part. He’d thank you, assure you he’d break the news to your friends and take the blame. It’d be alright, you wouldn’t have to do anything. And just like before you had ever talked to Jungkook at the vending machine, you’d go your own ways. 

His steps grew louder, echoed less and less until he was inside. A draft pulled through your small flat as he shut the door behind you, quiet but final. You shivered and turned off your phone, heart heavy in your chest as you prepared yourself to turn around and face him. You had thought about it all day, agonised how it’d be like to see him again the past week, how you’d handle this, how you could retain just a bit of your pride at the end of this. The scenario played over and over again in your mind—you’d look at him with a smile, tell him you understood perfectly and he didn’t need to explain. It had been stupid anyway, fun but stupid. Both of you knew this wasn’t anything really, it would come to an end. You didn’t mind it at all. 

“You know, it’s alright, Jeon. I know what you wanna-”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you with his coat and scarf and shoes on. He pressed you to his chest, held you even tighter when you hesitated to return his hug, as if he needed to physically feel you, be sure you were there.

You hadn’t seen him all week, and all of a sudden, you didn’t know what to do around him anymore.

“Jeon?” 

“Can you hug me?” he asked you, voice barely above a whisper, and though you had been so sure about what would happen just seconds ago, pictured how your conversation would go, you realised you knew nothing at all. You did as he said, putting your arms around his middle and squeezing as tightly as you could, holding your breath even.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, but when you pulled away, Jungkook looked at you in a way you had never seen. He took your hands into his.

“I’m sorry, cabbage,” he began, and in the dim light, you could see his eyes glaze over. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me for the past week.”

He paused, breathed in deeply, looked to the side before returning his gaze to you. 

“I think- there’s just been a lot on my mind, and I had to figure it out first, I think,” he continued. “I-I don’t think I fully have, but I will, soon.”

You looked at him, silent for a few seconds before you nodded, brushing your thumbs over the inside of his wrists.

“That’s okay,” you told him, giving him a smile. “It’s fine. I understand.”

Truth be told, you didn’t know where you took your words from, where you dug up that reassurance again. Because you’d felt the opposite for the past week. It’d been a horrible week for you, sleepless and anxious. 

You’d been tiptoeing a thin line, wondering every second when exactly this would blow over, just how close you were to impact, when your fall would end. Would it be a text? A call? Would he just show up to your doorstep unannounced one evening after you had come back from exhausting classes and do it then? Or would it be Jimin who’d relayed the messages? Would he not tell you at all, deeming not worth the effort even? So, it had been nice to be told the truth—that things had been confusing for Jungkook and he hadn’t figured out how to navigate it all—and yet you weren’t sure if it was enough for you, if it qualmed your worries.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” Jungkook repeated, and you wondered what he was so sorry for that he needed to apologise twice. If maybe you were right. Why else would he feel so apologetic? Was the ending coming and he just needed some more time to figure out the order of his words, unable to bring it over his heart? 

You should ask him if the things plaguing his mind was how to end this. You should, really. Regardless of the answer, it would free you, however painful it might just be. You’d find peace. Maybe you feared the pain too much, the tears that would run down your face, the embarrassment that would rip you into pieces, or maybe you didn’t care enough for yourself to find out the truth, but you didn’t ask. 

Your smile grew bigger, and you didn’t know who you were fooling, him or you. “Don’t be. It’s okay, Jeon.”

Jungkook took your face into his hands, staring into your eyes, looking so intensely at you like he’d never before. He was searching something, and you weren’t sure if he found it, if you held whatever he looked for at all.

“It’ll be fine,” you said, and this was for you, not him. 

“It’ll be fine,” he repeated, nodding, and as he leaned closer to you, you wondered if the same would apply tomorrow. When you’d meet his parents, stand in front of them. When they’d scrutinise every little detail about you and come to their conclusion on who you were before you could even open your mouth and utter your name. 

You let Jungkook pull you into a kiss, returned it with the same intensity. Both of you needed it right now. What exactly you offered each other, you couldn’t pinpoint. But it was enough to silence your mind and his too. 

When his hands wandered, so did yours. He pushed you to your bed, and you let your mattress catch your fall. Your sweater landed on your floor, and soon the rest of your clothes followed. His coat and the scarf you had made him found its place at the foot of your bed. He struggled for a bit to kick off his boots before ultimately stumbling out of them.

Jungkook pressed kisses from your lips to your ear down to your neck and collarbone. Slowly, they wandered further down and down, stopping as he paid extra attention to the places he learned you liked, made your back arch in his favourite way and your breath hitch so beautifully in your throat. Soon, you were pleading with the Gods above, curling your hands around your duvet as Jungkook familiarised himself with you again. His hands pried you open, splitting you into two again and again, bringing you high above. You returned the favour, listened as he found religion through you, drawing out his relief until he needed your lips on his instead. By now, you knew him blindly, your hands finding the sensitive parts of him even as he carved his way back to yours.

“I’ve missed you,” Jungkook mumbled into your ear when he began moving, and you smiled, wrapped your arms around him. So had you. 

“Me too,” you returned, your hips finding a steady rhythm together. He pressed kisses to your skin, hands holding you oh so tightly like he usually would. But he hadn’t said it, hadn’t told you for the entire week, not even now when he would on any other day—that he loved you—and so maybe that was why you fell asleep with an uneasy heart. 

Had he not promised? That he’d be there for every second of the day, from the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to bed, glued to your side until you were sick of him? Was that not what he had said, the words he assured you with? So how was it that you awoke alone, like you had been for the entire past week, without him?

Jungkook wasn’t here, and yet you looked around your home like he could be hidden in some corner. He didn’t like you anymore, you were sure. Why would he? He never did to begin with. Probably regretted this more than anything else, realised just how exhausting it was to be with you. It wouldn’t be worth it. His parents wouldn’t like you, tell him that he could do better. He’d agree- actually he knew that already. Yesterday night had been a mistake, just like all the other times had been. He and you weren’t the same, never could be. Just like two mismatching puzzle pieces, you’d never make a whole picture together. You’d been right, of course. Jungkook could never like you, never saw you as anything more than a paw in this stupid cruel game between Taehyung and you. And you had been played, over and over again. How stupid of you. Foolish! This-

The blaring of your alarm brought you back to reality, the sound filling your ears. You had forgotten to turn it off. You reached for your phone, shutting it off but before you could toss it aside, you saw it. It made you pause, his name atop of your notifications. A voice memo, just over two minutes. Like it had been all you had been looking for, you hurriedly unlocked your phone. You were about to hit start, when you paused, your thumb hovering just above it. Because it could be anything—a simple breakfast run, or a goodbye. A pit grew in your stomach, and you wished he had just left you a clue about what he’d be saying in it. Your chest webbed tightly with anxiety, a rollercoaster in your throat.

You took in a deep breath, bracing yourself, eyes closed as you hit play. Whatever it might be, you’d be fine, somehow, you hoped.

“Hey, I’m so sorry—” Your chest felt so hollow, his voice unsteady. He was running, the wind blowing up the audio. He sounded far away, you had to strain to hear him properly, your phone on maximum volume. “—I know I promised to be there when you’d wake up, but—”

But I just couldn’t do this any longer. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.

“—my mom called me. She’s having an emergency with her car, and now she’s stuck in- actually, I don’t know where, but I’m on my way there to jumpstart her car. And I thought about waking you up for it, but that felt mean and you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t. But- it’s so cold, oh my God. Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m gonna hurry, okay? So just wait for me, alright? I’ll be there, I promise.”

You heard the door of his car open and close. The wind cut out, and all of a sudden it was quiet. There was ruffling, Jungkook took his phone closer to his face. He sighed, and you could see him right in front of your eyes—sitting there in his car, hair a mess on his head, as he closed his eyes to find his words, a knit between his brows.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” he began again. “Both for leaving now because I know I had promised I’d be there, and… again for the past week. I know I’ve been shit, and I know you’ve been confused and- I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair at all-”

Neither had you however, you realised as you listened to him talk. Of course, Jungkook had only left because his mother needed his help. How could you assume the worst of him after everything? When he was so good and kind? Had been all this time to you?

“But we will figure this out, okay?”

Jungkook paused again. You pulled your legs to your chest, burying your face into your knees, teeth sinking into your tongue.

“Let’s talk about this after today. But it’s gonna be fine. Like you said it would.”

You had lied.

“What am I talking about?” He let out a small laugh, and you knew he was shaking his head at himself. “It’s already fine.” 

You felt like a traitor. You were terrible.

“I’ll be back to pick you up, okay? So just wait for me. I hope I can get to you by two the latest. I hope it won’t take too long to figure it all out. You know, I actually don’t know how to jumpstart a car, so I really don’t know why my mom called me.”

He laughed again, and you didn’t think you could ever get the sound out of your mind. It was so pretty and melodic, so good and precious. 

“Well, anyway, I gotta get going, but I can’t wait for tonight already. I miss you.”

You missed him too, loved him even. Did he? Could he? Could you?

It was cowardly of you, hypocritical actually. But you couldn’t do it differently, didn’t have the courage to look at Jungkook and say it. The words wouldn’t leave you, you were certain, if you stood in front of him. He deserved more than a text, but more than that he deserved the truth. And the truth was you couldn’t do this, any of it in fact, not anymore. Couldn’t meet his parents, or even pretend to be his girlfriend any longer, not in good conscience. It had to end.

Your thumbs shook as you slowly found the right letters, strung together the words and sentences. You hit delete every other word, barely getting a paragraph together in almost an hour. Because worst of all, even as you tried to offer some honesty, you knew you couldn’t offer it entirely to him, couldn’t let Jungkook know just how exactly you felt, how deeply you had plunged into love with him. 

I’m sorry, Jeon, but I don’t think I can keep this going any longer. I know I said I’d meet your parents, but I think we’re just going a little too far by doing that. I hope you understand. I know I’m not fulfilling our contract and you’ll lose your bet with Taehyung and I’m really sorry, so I’ll just wire back all the money. I never touched it anyway. 

You were about to finish off the paragraph, deciding that any wishes for your future relationship as friends would be too much to ask for, thumb sliding over the glass, when your phone lit up, buzzing and ringing. And right just then, you accepted the call, your heart dropping in your chest. Your stomach twisted terribly because you couldn’t do this. How could you? Hear his voice, talk to him as if you weren’t just about to call this entire thing off over text? How could you pretend it was all fine when you’d felt gutted for the entire week?

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted you, oh so unaware. You could hear the harsh wind coming through the speaker. “I’m sorry—”

You wished he’d stop apologising. If he just knew what you’d been thinking of him for the past few days, all the assumptions you had made about him and his character, his parents too. 

“—but looks like I won’t make it by two.”

There was a sigh, and you let the silence usher Jungkook to keep on speaking, knowing your voice would merely betray you.

“I tried to jumpstart the car, but yeah, it didn’t work out. We called some people now and seems like we’re gonna have to have the car towed and fixed at the shop.”

The frustration bled through in Jungkook’s voice. It was obvious. He had spent all morning trying desperately to fix his mom’s car in the freezing cold, and now it had come to this.

“We called my dad. He’s on his way here because I still need to go back to my parents and take a shower. It’s gonna take some time—the drive to my parents, the shower and then the drive to your place—so I definitely won’t make it by two. But I should be at your place by three the latest though, I hope that’s fine?”

You closed your eyes, wondered just what exactly you were supposed to say. And so, for a while you didn’t as you gathered yourself.

“Cabbage? Are you there? Can you hear-”

“Y-yeah.” You chewed on your lip, took a few more seconds before speaking. “You… don’t have to come-”

“What? No, I promised you I’d drive you. Let me at least do that,” Jungkook insisted, and you hoped he’d just understand. How direct did you have to be? 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to,” you tried, but to no avail.

He snorted. “Cabbage, I’m driving you. No matter what. My dad’s almost here. You won’t have to wait long. I’ll probably be at your place before three actually. I shower quickly!”

You pressed your hands to your eyes until dark spots appeared, shaking your head. Why couldn’t he just understand? 

A lump knotted your throat shut, your voice wavering as you began speaking, “I-I think we should just-”

“Ah, my dad’s here! I gotta go, cabbage. But please just wait, I’ll be there soon, okay? Can’t wait to see you! It’s gonna be great. You’re gonna charm their asses off, okay?”

And before you could even protest, confess to Jungkook that you couldn’t do any of this, he had hung up. You stared as your phone displayed your lockscreen before ultimately turning black, leaving you with your reflection.

You caught yourself in your mirror, realising how puffy your eyes were. It was blatantly obvious you had cried. You were a mess, in no state to meet anyone’s parents, no less Jungkook’s perfect parents. But now you couldn’t even get yourself out of this anymore, not when you had heard his excitement again. How could you disappoint him? 

Just one more day. You’d do it for one more day, him and you. You’d just get today over with, that much you owed him, and then you’d sit him down to break it all off.

The dress was still oh so beautiful on you, harmonised perfectly with the white cropped cardigan you had picked out for today because it was, indeed, cold like Jungkook had said it was, and you really didn’t want to freeze. Your hair remained the same as always. You had thought about changing it, but decided in the end that at least your hair should be the way you were used to. Same with your jewellery, the same few pieces you wore every day adorning you today too. You kept the makeup minimal, and still it took you ages to get it done, hands shaky as you carefully drew on eyeliner and curled your lashes. 

Looking at yourself you wondered if it was enough to fool everyone, yourself possibly even that you were perfectly fine, that you fit to Jungkook, that he and you could be something more, that your background was the same as theirs, that you were just another Narae, well-off and well-travelled.

But your doubts and worries had no time to brew, your doorbell announcing Jungkook. Shrugging on your coat and slipping into the pair of black kitten heels you had borrowed from Chaeyoung, you gave yourself one more look in the mirror. You looked beautiful, you knew that. Everything about you looked so close to perfect, and yet, you felt the opposite. Today was the last time for Jungkook and you, and just the thought made you want to cry.

You shook your head, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting any longer. It was truly cold, and you regretted your choice of shoes the moment you stepped outside, cursing yourself. The wind snaked up your legs. Maybe if you knew that this wasn’t going to be your last day together as a pretend couple, you would have run up and changed. But more than ever before, you wanted to look your best today. Because at the very least, however today might end (badly), you looked good.

Jungkook agreed, face lighting up the moment he laid his eyes on you. You tried your very best to return your smile. He looked oh so good too, wondering if he matched you on purpose. His sweater was the same deep rich red as yours, a white turtleneck layered underneath. He paired it off with some black slacks and black boots, your scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. You couldn’t look at him too long, vision beginning to swim when you did, so you focused on the ground, one step after the other.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook gasped, clutching his chest and pretending to have a heart attack. 

“Thank you,” you said, speaking quietly, afraid your voice was going to betray you. “You too.”

Your compliment made his smile turn into a grin. “Well, you’re prettier.”

Usually, you’d make some snarky comment, fall into the same old banter you’d established with him long ago. Today, you could barely bring yourself to look at him. 

“Let’s-”

Jungkook cupped your face, lifting your eyes to him, forcing you to face him. His gaze turned your insides soft and puddy, hands beginning to shake by your side.

“I’m so happy, cabbage,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. It almost made you cry. You screwed your eyes shut. Before the kiss could go on longer, devastate you more, crush you further, you pulled away.

“I-I’ve got lipgloss on,” you mumbled, giving Jungkook a short smile before stepping aside to walk to his car. He laughed behind you, telling you how he didn’t mind at all, but still, he followed you.

Just as you were about to reach for the car door, he did it for you. Always the gentleman. You paused for a second, surprised (why were you?), before climbing inside, heart heavy as you waited for him to just close the car door. Jungkook didn’t though, drawing your eyes back to him.

“Are you sure about the shoes?” he asked you, brows furrowed together. “It’s cold. You’re not even wearing stockings.”

You felt even more self-conscious all of a sudden, tucking your feet underneath the seat, cheeks warming and heart thrumming. These shoes were the only ones that fit with your outfit. You didn’t have an extensive shoe collection, anything you could change into now wouldn’t match. It’d be a waste not to wear them, especially after you had asked Chaeyoung to borrow them.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine.”

Jungkook seemed to disagree, still standing there with the car door in his hand, and when he opened his mouth, you knew he was going to argue with you.

“I really-”

“It’s fine,” you repeated, reaching for the door handle. “Let’s just go. We’re gonna be late.”

The frown didn’t disappear from his face, but he conceded, albeit with a sigh. His hand squeezed yours, and you flinched, pulling it away as if he burned you. Jungkook stopped, eyes shooting to yours.

Your heart dropped in your chest. Oh no. 

You put on your brightest and biggest smile. “Sorry, your hand’s just super cold,” you laughed. 

Jungkook blinked before smiling, “Ah, sorry.”

With that he shut the car door, and you pulled the seat belt across your body, readying your words on your tongue that you had thought of this entire time.

I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?

It was a blatant lie. Every nerve and fibre of your body was lit up, wired tightly. You couldn’t find sleep even if you laid in your bed now. The thought of having to talk to Jungkook for the entirety of the car ride, however, turned your stomach upside down. 

You decided to wait for him to put on the seat belt first before saying it, needing a few more seconds to rid the knot from your throat. From the corner of your eye, you watched as he climbed inside, putting his key into the ignition, rubbing his hands together. But rather than reach for the seat belt, Jungkook fumbled with the console, turning on the heat, carefully turning the knob back and forth. Warm air started blasting from the heaters immediately, wrapping you up from every direction.

“Do you want the seat warmer too?”

He looked at you so sincerely. You crumbled almost.

“I-It’s okay.”

“Just say a word and I’ll change it, okay? Don’t want you freezing,” he said before strapping the seat belt across his chest. You turned to the window. 

Your voice wavered slightly. “Uh, I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?”

“Oh, yeah, no, totally. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re there. Gonna take a while anyway.”

You hummed in response, frowning when you saw Jungkook rub his hands together, blowing into them, even holding them up to the heaters for a few seconds. Before you could wonder for too long, he took your hand into his, thumb brushing back and forth.

“Warm enough?”

He said it with such a beautiful smile. It shattered you. You merely nodded before turning away, eyes closing shut, a lump stuck in your throat. The gesture, however small, dug into your heart like a knife. He was so nice, so kind, so good. And for the past week, you had thought the worst of him. 

You knew you had arrived even before Jungkook parked the car. The engine slowly shut off, keys jangling when he pulled them out. You heard the click of his seat belt, some shuffling, and your heart beat faster as you waited for him to wake you up. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought this through. How were you going to convince him that you had slept this entire time when you hadn’t even for a single second? The last time you had pretended to sleep in the car was when you were seven and didn’t want to go to school. And even then, it hadn’t worked, your mother seeing right through you.

Jungkook had held your hand the entire ride. You had so gotten used to the feeling of his warmth that when he slowly pried his hand out of yours, you felt oddly cold. For a second, you thought you had to have imagined it when you heard the car door open. But when the sound of it softly closing followed, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to come around and then wake you up?

You waited a few more seconds but when your car door remained shut, you slowly peeled your eyes open. Once again, Jungkook wasn’t there. But your attention turned to the house across the street instead. Jisoo and Chaeyoung had, of course, asked for Jungkook’s address—Just in case. He had happily sent it to them, and you too if you wanted to forward it to anyone else too. (The fact that Jisoo was over an hour's train ride away didn’t matter by the way.) You couldn’t recall the address, but you did remember the house number, and you were definitely staring at the right house right now.

It was bigger than you could have imagined it to be. It was so absurdly big, almost cartoonishly so. Even more so because it was decked out with all kinds of Christmas lights and stockings. You doubted no second the inside rivalled Chaeyoung’s and Jisoo’s home. But however ridiculous it was to you, this was Jungkook’s childhood home, the house where he grew up in. Where he spent his childhood and teenage years. This particular house. A house. Whilst you grew up in a flat, just with enough space to cram in your little family.

You saw him then, standing next to the expensive car parked in the driveway. Jungkook opened the car door to the passenger seat, and a second later, his mother stepped out. He offered her his hand, earning himself a big smile from her. From inside the car, you couldn’t hear what she said, but you could imagine it. She was right, he was a great son. 

Jungkook looked a lot like his mother, you realised. She had gifted him with her kind eyes and soft big smile. No wonder, her son was so beautiful. She was an elegant woman. It was obvious. The kind of woman that wore cashmere sweaters, baked fresh bread every Sunday, made sure to do her skincare routine every morning and night, expensive creams and serums lining her bathroom cupboard. Not a single hair on her head was grey. She was the perfect wife and mother.

From the driver's seat, a man emerged, Jungkook’s dad. There was a hint of grey colouring his hair, but he pulled it off well. He was shorter than Jungkook by a bit, but you could see right away where Jungkook got his confidence from. For a moment, you wondered if that was how Jungkook would look like when he was older. Would he resemble his father? His dad quickly rounded the car, greeting his son with a hug before taking his wife’s hand into his. He had a kind smile too, you noticed. Of course, he did.

Jungkook had to have said something particularly funny because both his parents erupted into laughter. You looked away, closing your eyes. 

What were you doing here?

The question blared louder than ever before. Could you really do this? Fool everyone? Yourself too? The answer was obvious to you as you looked ahead. A part of you wished you had come to that conclusion before you had gotten into the car. You didn’t know your way around this neighbourhood (of course, not), but you knew you had to get away from here either way.

You stepped out of the car, quietly shutting the door. He couldn’t see, couldn’t know. You had to get away, now.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Kook?” 

His father’s voice made you pause. Jungkook sounded so much like him.

“In the car. She’s sleeping.”

“Are you not gonna wake her up? At least, let her come inside and sleep inside. It’s so cold.”

“No, I was gonna, but then I saw you and dad pull up,” Jungkook explained, his voice carried to you through the wind. His car offered you enough coverage to hide and at the same time allowed a clear view of Jungkook and his parents. “Also, I was gonna get her another pair of shoes. She’s wearing heels.”

His mother gasped. “In this weather? Does she at least have stockings on?” When he shook his head, she gasped again. “No, that’s not good. You better get her another pair of shoes. She’s gonna freeze!”

“I know- ah, I turned off the heat!” Jungkook touched his forehead as if to say how stupid of him. 

You pressed your lips together, teeth sinking into your tongue. The guilt clawed up your throat, raw and red. It hurt, so much so that you didn’t even feel the cold wind on your feet and up your legs, or the way they ached from the unnatural arch the heels forced them into. 

“Go get your girlfriend some shoes,” Jungkook’s father told him. “I’ll get the groceries-”

“What? No, let me, dad. I can do both. I’ll be quick.”

“It’s fine, Kook. We don’t want your girlfriend freezing.” His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. But like the good son he was, he wasn’t having it, already moving to open the trunk.

“It’s okay. I turned off the car just now, and she’s been sleeping peacefully this entire time. I’ll be quick,” Jungkook insisted. “You guys get inside.”

His parents looked at him with a sigh, realising defeat. Jungkook’s father handed him the car keys.

“Well, you better be quick. You know we can’t wait to meet Y/N.”

And with that, they walked inside, hand in hand. Your heart shattered, your name rolling so easily off their lips. It was so odd to hear them say it, hear with how much kindness they did. 

You should just go now, take this opportunity to run, but your feet remained cemented, your eyes following Jungkook as he brought the first two bags up to the front door before grabbing the last two out of the car. Moving his foot underneath the sensor, the trunk closed automatically. You knew nothing about cars but you knew that such a feature didn’t come with most, and was definitely not cheap either.

Right now, looking ahead of you, you could see for the first time clearly just how different Jungkook and you were. There were two different worlds between you, a distance that no one could cross, no less a relationship that wasn’t genuine to begin with. It had been nice and fun, foolishly nice and fun, to pretend all this time, but in the end it had been foolish more than anything. 

Why you didn’t move still remained a mystery to you. Maybe your feet had really frozen to the sidewalk, the heels one of your worst ideas yet, or maybe you simply couldn’t do it, bring it over your heart to just walk away. Maybe you just needed a little more, of him and you. You knew these few seconds would be the last ones of peace before it would all crumble. The illusion would shatter. He and you would be done, forever. There would be no more hangouts together with all your friends, no more cookies and Avatar marathons, no more kisses and hugs. 

Jungkook and you would dissolve, just as quickly as it had all begun in that library with a notebook and pen. 

Jungkook was about to turn around and close the door and he’d see you, standing there on the sidewalk with your eyes set straight on him. He’d see you and he’d smile and put down the bags and walk over to you and ask you why you were standing there and why did you get out of the car and how cold it was. How stupid and silly of you! 

He’d come over and bring you into a hug and his lips would ghost over the crown of your head and you’d cave and melt and you’d go in and meet his family and it’d hurt so much to tell Jungkook’s parents what your parents did when they’d inevitably ask you because of course they would and you’d have to see as they realised that your parents didn’t get to enjoy higher education. They’d be silent for a few seconds before nodding and smiling. They’d quickly change the topic because it was better to talk about something else and oh I heard something so interesting on the news recently, did you hear?

But you didn’t move, even as Jungkook turned, arms heavy with grocery bags, and lifted his head, eyes meeting yours as you predicted he would. His lips lifted up into a smile, a smile bigger than you’d expected. He didn’t move though. Instead he blurred into a heap of colours.

You could no longer do this.

The image of him cleared as the first tears fell, and you watched as his face crumbled while he watched your chest heave up and down, sobs pushing out from your throat. 

Jungkook let go of the grocery bags, the contents spilling out. When he took his step towards you, you did too, away from him. He stilled, frozen. Why, you could see it on his face. Why were you crying? Why were you moving away from him? He deserved answers, an explanation, but the most you could muster up right now was the shake of your head.

No.

And then you took off. 

“Y/N!” 

You pressed your hand to your lips, scared of filling the street with your gut wrenching sobs. Tears kept streaming down your face, hot and heavy. 

You did feel sorry for doing this to Jungkook. But you had to. Because he wasn’t going to. It had to be you. You who finally saw the truth in the eye that this was ridiculous, that this had gone off the rails, that Jungkook and you should have never gotten to this point, to where you found comfort in his arms and he knew your favourite cookies and you showed him your home and he knew more than he should about you. To the point where you had shared the bed together and knew the softness of the other’s lips. To the point where you had irrevocably and undeniably and unfortunately fallen for Jungkook.

You were in love with Jeon Jungkook, and it was the worst thing you could have done to yourself-

“Y/N!”

And it was affirmed when he seized your elbow and turned you around. You didn’t make it very far. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see it in them. How this was going to end. How this had to end, now. 

You were reminded of when you ran out on Jaehwa after seeing him for the first time again. It was what you always did, you realised. Run. 

You just never expected you’d have to run out on Jungkook too.

His eyes, wide and big, searched your face, for something to give him a clue as to what was going on in the head of yours, anything. He didn’t understand. 

You pulled away from him as if his touch burned you, pushed him away.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked, frantic, reaching out for you again, but you couldn’t let him touch you, tumbling backwards. Hurt flashed across his features, but this was for the best. Why did you have to be this dramatic? How stupid of you!

“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, shaking your head, dragging your coat sleeve frantically on your cheeks. “I-I just can’t.”

Jungkook stared at you, face twisting and morphing into emotions you couldn’t decipher. You had never really understood him anyway.

“O-okay, hey, that’s fine.”

Who would have thought this would hurt so much to hear?

“That’s alright.”

He should be furious, absolutely and utterly mad with you. You had just run away. If he hadn’t caught you, he would have had to somehow explain to his parents why his so-called perfect girlfriend was suddenly gone. And yet, he met you with empathy and kindness. Jungkook was so good, so precious. He was so much better than you, deserved more. 

“I’ll give you a ride home-”

“No!” you screamed, lungs heaving for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. You shook your head, repeated it again, quieter this time. “No, you don’t understand.”

Jungkook stared at you, mouth opening and closing. “Okay, then explain. But let’s do this in the car-”

“Why are you like this?” You threw the question at his head, venomous and bitter. The anger wasn’t fair, shouldn’t be aimed at him at all. What had he done to deserve it? And yet, you couldn’t find it in you to shift the target. “What are we doing?”

His brows knitted together, the knit deepening. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” You looked at him as if he should. “Can we get to the car first, cabbage-”

You flinched. How could he still call you that? 

“This is so stupid,” you scoffed, shaking your head, eyes looking at everything but him. The cold wind blew your tears away, and your cheeks felt raw from all of the rubbing and dragging. “I- this is so wrong on so many levels. Why am I even here? What are we even doing? Why are you like this?”

“You don’t want to meet my parents, that’s fine. I really think we should get to the car-”

“Why? Because you don’t want your neighbours and parents to see what crazy person you’ve brought home?”

“What? No! Who said that? I wanna get to the car because it’s freezing cold and you only have a coat and heels on-”

“Oh, please, Jeon!” The laugh slipping from your lips made Jungkook flinch. It was so mean, filled with so much spite. “Don’t pretend to be good. What a cheap and pathetic act!”

None of the words you spoke were truthful. You didn’t know where you pulled them from, you didn’t believe any of them. All of them were hollow and mean. But maybe they’d be enough though to bring out anger within Jungkook, make him come to the same realisation as you had—that he and you had to end. But knowing him, he’d meet you with empathy and kindness over and over again. 

He had to hate you. 

You had to make him hate you. Otherwise, this would never find an end. Otherwise, he’d convince you of the opposite, and you’d never be able to let go of him. Otherwise, you’d lose yourself completely to him.

And when you looked at Jungkook, you knew you were right. Because there was no no fire in his eyes, nothing. He still stared at you the same way he used to. Even after you had called him names. Hating you was the only option.

“I really think we should just talk this out another time.”

Defeat, you realised, contorted his features. Not anger. Not spite. None of it. Just defeat. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.

“You’re clearly not in the best of moods and saying stuff that you don’t mean. I don't know what’s going on, but let me just give you a ride home and we’ll figure this out another-”

“Figure out what?” You leaned forward, gestured wildly around yourself. “We? Oh, please, Jeon, there’s no fucking ‘we’. Don’t make me laugh!”

He shook his head, hands running through his hair. 

“I really don’t think you mean any of this, Y/N. I know this entire situation must be bringing up bad memories for you- I know Jaehwa hurt you-”

“What? This has nothing to do with him,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes, the words pushing through your clenched teeth like a bullet out of a gun. “What do you know, Jeon? What do you really know, huh? Actually, how can you know anything? You with your perfect stupid fucking family with a house oh so big because you just had to show everybody how you were better and richer and greater. What do you know about anything, really?”

You weren’t making sense, but you could see a change in Jungkook’s face, the flicker in his eyes as you mentioned his family. Bullseye.

“Miss me with that bullshit. You’re the kind of people I hate. It’s all so fake and condescending- fuck, you’re so stupidly loaded you’re paying me to pretend to date you so you can win a stupid shitty bet with Taehyung. Your parents must be so proud of their great great son.”

He closed his eyes, screwed them so tightly shut in hopes that maybe if he did so long enough, this would turn out to be a bad dream. This wasn’t happening. Things weren’t falling apart like that. They couldn’t. His hands curled into fists.

“Now you can’t even look at me, Jeon?” you sneered, voice and words growing more and more vicious. “Can’t face the truth, right? You pretend to be so good, so kind. But for fuck’s sake, look at the house you grew up in! Look at where I live! You’re the same as Jaehwa- actually, no because at the very least, he didn’t pretend like he and I weren’t different. You should have some shame, but I guess with parents-”

“Y/N!”

Your name cut through the air, and for once, you stopped and breathed. Jungkook had peeled his eyes open again, teeth gritted, jaw pulled taunt, hands curled into tight fists. 

“I really think it’d be better if you stopped talking now.”

And yet, it wasn’t the response you wanted.

You could have cried then, bawled, fallen to your knees and just admitted to it all. How much you did love him and how much you wanted him, but couldn’t have him because this just wasn’t going to work because he never really did love you and neither would his parents. He and you were doomed, like the moon and the sun. He just would never see it, too idealistic for his own good. Your blatant and devastating flaws. You weren’t good or kind. You had to be the one to pull the plug, to call this what it was—wrong.

“Yeah, of course, you’d say that,” you mumbled, the tip of your shoes digging into the concrete, rolling back and forth. The scratching sound it produced soothed you oddly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You know what I mean. You rich people just can’t ever face the truth-”

“No, you idiot!” 

His voice echoed through the empty street, loud and clear. Anger and disdain coloured his words, features twisting and knits deepening. There it was, finally. The anger and upset you had waited and waited for, the blow of the bomb, the finale. 

“I think you should stop talking because I love you and I don’t want my heart broken any further!”

Jungkook was so loud. You had never heard him so loud before, yell like that, tell you so abundantly clear that he loved you. It was the declaration of declarations, blaring and grand. You had wanted to hear it, needed to hear it all this time, all this week—that he loved you—and now when you finally did, it was truly the worst thing anyone had ever told you ever. Because it was everything you wished for, but you couldn’t have it, none of it. It wasn’t real, and even if it was, even if he meant it and he loved you, you couldn’t be with him. The truth didn’t matter. You were too damaged, too broken, too fucked up to never not doubt Jungkook, not to fear that he’d leave at any point. 

You’d never trust him.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you!” He pointed at you, face scrunched and eyes red, tears welling. “I thought we had gotten past this- isn’t it obvious that I do really love-”

“Oh, please. You goddamn liar!” Your voice shook, broke in your throat and mouth, head spinning. You were losing Jungkook, spectacularly so. “What do you know about love? This is an act, Jeon! You’re not in love with me! You’re in love with an act! You’re in love with the idea of winning your stupid bet with-”

“No, no-”

“Yes, Jeon, you don’t know shit. You pretend like you do- think you do when in reality, you don’t know anything about me. Who am I if not just a pawn in your game? Someone you paid, so you could boast and brag that you didn’t get rejected, huh?”

Jungkook licked his lips, veins bulging in his neck as he tried his very best to not go too far, implode on you, hands digging into the roots of his hair. “No, that’s not true. The bet between Tae and me—”

“Actually, you know what? I don’t even care. Because all of it is wrong. It’s not what we agreed upon-”

“Okay, yeah, so we weren’t supposed to kiss and spend time together privately, or sleep with each other and talk on the phone for hours. But look at us now!” He pointed between him and you, as if there was something between you. “We did it all, okay? And? Was it so bad?”

His eyes fixed yours, so deeply. He took a step towards you, and you didn’t back away, couldn’t.

“You call me a liar when I tell you I love you—” His voice shook, trembled terribly, and you could see Jungkook fight to find the right words, struggle to speak. It pained you to know it was all because of you. How easy would it be to take it all back? Admit fault and go back? But would it be right? “—but tell me then, why are you looking at me like that?”

You tried a laugh. A laugh that was meant to dismiss it all, deny the truth, but it sounded hollow and wrong. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, beginning to crumble. And Jungkook saw right through you.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t feel something!” 

You closed your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. The world began to spin faster and faster, and you felt like you were losing the ground underneath yourself.

“You’re not being fair,” you whispered, shaking your head. You were speaking much quieter now, your voice having lost all of its bite and edge. This had been harder than you expected. “You’re breaking the contract-”

“Oh my God, will you forget about that? Both of us broke it a long time ago, willingly! Can you please just forget about all of it—the contract, the bet—and look at the facts?”

Jungkook was begging at this point. Would you come to your senses?

“Do you really genuinely think that the past weeks- months didn’t mean anything to me? That it was really all just pretend? That I lied about all of it? That I’m really such a big asshole that I’d pretend to be in love with you this entire time, call you daily, buy you your favourite cookies, hold your hand and kiss you and tell you—” This seemed to drain Jungkook of everything, voice trembling as he presented the worst version of himself to you. “—over and over again that I love you?”

He leaned forward, searched for your eyes. 

It was right in front of you—a white flag up in the air, for you to grab and hiss. You could do it now, he’d forgive you, you were certain of that. Jungkook was still kind enough to do so, his heart ready to let you back in. You wouldn’t even need to say anything, just falling into his arms would suffice. It’d be so easy. Simple, in fact. He’d let you do it, take your silent defeat as an apology. You’d never have to talk about it ever again. It was tempting, slip back into what you were before as if you weren’t aware that he and you were two parallel lines never meant to cross. Jungkook would never be tempted to take this way out, he’d stand straight for what he’d said, repent. The thought to take the easy way out would never cross his mind. It did yours.

“Y-yeah, I do.”

Jungkook shook his head, mouth set in a line.

“You don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do-”

“Y/N, no, no, you-”

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Stop insisting that I don’t mean it. I do. I-”

It was so ironic. It felt like the entire universe was mocking you, laughing at the two of you. This was what  Jungkook had wished for him and you, imagined how beautiful it would be, how you’d sit together in front of the window and watch before he’d suggest to go outside and you’d follow happily. You’d dance and play until neither of you could feel your hands and your cheeks were rough and raw from the cold wind. You’d yearn for the warm, shiver as you stepped inside, but you’d be happy. So very happy. But now it felt like a stab to your hearts instead. 

The first few snowflakes softly landed on your sleeve. It was so beautiful. The entire street would be white in a few hours, kids would come out to play soon.

“I’ll pay you back.” You took a step back, rubbed away the tears that wanted to spill. “See it as compensation for… not meeting your parents.”

Jungkook couldn’t respond, teeth sinking into his tongue, biting on the muscle until it hurt too much. 

“That’s not- that’s not the point. I don’t care for the money, I just-” He deflated. “Just-just meet them, Y/N. Give them a chance, please. You’ll realise- they’re gonna love-”

He stopped when you shrunk in on yourself, vehemently shaking your head. Neither of you said anything, just allowing the snow to fall around you and cover you in white. You’d be shivering in just a few minutes, hair and skin wet, feet shaky on the cold ground. 

Jungkook looked down, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped. 

“Okay.”

You stood there as you waited for him to turn his back to you and walk away, waited and waited to be finally alone. He’d do it and you’d be alone and you’d be proven right, vindicated. Relief would flood you, knowing you had seen it coming, had always known correctly, protected you, at least, this time of hurt and-

The keys looked cold to the touch.

“Take them. Wait in the car. Call Chae or whoever to come pick you up. You can leave the keys in the car. I’ll get them later.”

Jungkook was ordering you, telling you what to do. And though he spoke with finality, allowing no room for you to disagree, his voice trembled and shook. You didn’t have to look to know the tears staining his cheeks, to know how much you had hurt him, realise that in your quest to do the best for both him and you because he deserved better and not be hurt and left in the end, you had done just that to Jungkook, plunged the knife into his heart and pushed it further even as he spat out blood. 

“It’s fine, I can-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook grabbed your hand and placed the keys into your palm, forcing your fingers shut around them with his own. His touch sent sparks through your body. It’d be the last time he’d ever touch you, you realised, and before you could stop it, the tears spilt. But you didn’t let out a noise, kept your head low and eyes even lower. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Jungkook hesitated before letting go, his feet dragging as he walked away.

Maybe it was you holding the gun, not Jungkook.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

[pitchsidestories]

the law of attraction II Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1880

a/n: hi, it's based off this lovely request here. On a different note, how adorable are Ingrid and Mapi in that gif ?! ❤️

“Here comes our little genius, girls.”, Mapi told her teammates proudly while you walked towards the injured defender. Their curious glances made your face turn hot.

“Maria, we’re the same height, so stop calling me little!”, you playfully rolled her eyes at her.

“Sure.”, she shook her head in amusement.

“Girls.”, Ingrid intervened smiling.

“Ingrid, hi.”, you greeted her, happy to see the Norwegian again.

“Hi. Nice to see you.”, the dark-haired woman responded, wrapping her arms around you for a hug.

“Great to see you too. Also watching you two at training is something different than Uni.”, you mumbled thankfully into her embrace.

The weight of the library books in your rucksack reminded you of what you’ve been doing the whole day. Spending too much time in front of your laptop without successfully coming closer to solving the mathematical issue you’ve been working on.

“She’s getting some distraction from a math problem.”, Mapi explained to the fellow footballers with a smug grin on her lips.

“Yes, maybe the distraction helps me to solve it later.”, you replied in a hopeful tone.  

“Worth a try.”, Ingrid nodded.

“Exactly.”

“Such a smart ass.”, the tattooed Spaniard teased you.

“Maria.”, the Scandinavian scolded the older woman before she continued beaming at you, maybe we can all grab some food together after training?”

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”, you answered happily, you could really need a distraction and being in your friend’s apartment with Bagheera who loved to cuddle with you sounded delightful in your ears.

“Math nerd, it’s time for the beauties to get to work.”, Alexia reminded the three of you winking.

“I’m not keeping them from it.”, you pointed out laughing.

To her captain the defender said slightly annoyed:” Yeah, yeah, we’re coming.”

On their way to the training pitch, Marta remarked:” I mean you two have a personal supporter here so you should be motivated.”

“She's probably calculating some stuff in her head instead of watching.”, Mapi commented with a smirk.

Ingrid agreed: “As usual but she looks adorable while doing so.”

“Yeah, she does.”

Both of them watched on as you stared into space, too occupied with the equations in front of your inner eye.

Alexia shot her two teammates a suspicious look and teased: “One could almost think you two are in love with her.”

Mapi laughed nonchalantly: “Oh, please.”

“We're not.”, Ingrid protested, a pinkish hue appeared on her cheeks as she jogged off to warm up.

Alexia followed closely: “Just focus on training.”

“I am focused.”, Ingrid said.

The team captain looked over her shoulder at Mapi with a raised eyebrow: “I mean both of you.”

“Ale!”

She shrugged Mapis complaint away: “I just want to train.

Right after training, you found yourself at Mapis and Ingrids apartment. The takeaway you picked up on your way back filled the kitchen with a delicious smell of freshly cooked Thai food. You gathered around the kitchen table as Mapi started to set the table.

“You girls did so well.”, you remarked as you opened the styrofoam boxes, eyeing the food.

Mapi chuckled: “It was just a training session… or did you mean picking the food?”

“The food actually.”, you grinned, cheekily stealing a fork full.

“Of course, we're great at that.”, Mapi replied.

You started to spoon some food onto your plate and smiled: “Trainingwise, you both seemed a bit distracted.”

“Distracted?”, Ingrid echoed, almost dropping her fork in surprise.

“Yes.”

Her girlfriend swiftly changed the topic: “Tell us instead if there's someone distracting you from doing too much uni stuff.”

“No, no time for that. Besides you two do that already.”, you answered truthfully.

The norwegian blinked at you innocently: “We're not doing anything.”

“Right, we only invite you over for dinner or games.”, Mapi nodded.

“See?”, you only asked, the couple clearly already made the point for you.

Mapi gave you an unimpressed look and said around a mouthful of food: “You could just say no.”

“Yes, but I like going.”, you had to admit.

“And you can't work on your uni stuff all day round.”, Ingrid joined in.

“Exactly.”

You sighed. It was charming that they worried about you but in the end, you had chosen this career path and you loved what you did.

“It's kind of my job…”

“Yes, and we're so proud of you.”, Ingrid said, carefully reaching across the table to take your hand in hers.

You took a deep breath before confessing:” Thanks. It just gets lonely at times. Sometimes I want to have a relationship but then I again, I don’t think I would have time for that.”

“You know we’re always here for you, right?”, Mapi asked you in a cautiously tone.

You shot her a grateful glance: “I do, and I appreciate that.”

“You know, I think there might be a solution for this.”, the Spanish defender begun.

“You do?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously at her.

Turning her head to face the Norwegian, Mapi continued:” I think Ingrid is thinking the same.”

“I am.”, her girlfriend nodded earnestly.

Confused you looked between the football players:” What are you talking about?”

“Tell her, Mapi.”, Ingrid urged the Spanish woman to keep talking.

“We could provide the relationship stuff for you while you focus on your studies.”, the defender suggested.

“Wait.. are you saying..? You must be joking.”, you responded, the surprise clearly written all over your face.

“No, we’re serios, y/n.”, Mapi reassured you.

“We both want to be with you.”, Ingrid emphasized the previous words of her girlfriend.

“I thought I was the only one with the crush.”, you replied still shocked by the offer of your friends.

“Oh dear, you might be very book smart, but..”, the defender smirked.

“But not when it comes to girls.”, the Norwegian ended the sentence of the older woman equally amused.

“The laws of attraction.”, Mapi hummed.

“That’s something they don’t teach in University.”, you answered, running one hand nervously through your open hair.

“No worries, we can teach you that like you taught me math at school all those years ago.”, the defender promised in a soothingly voice.

“I think I would like that.”, you declared smiling.

“So would be.”, Ingrid grinned satisfied.

“I can’t believe that.”, you giggled in disbelief.

“You better start believing.”, Mapi said.

“She’s a mathematician, she probably needs proof, Mapi.”, the dark-haired woman reminded the older player.

The Spanish defender mumbled:” Good point.” She was the first to kiss you, Ingrid followed swiftly. Both kisses tasted like the start of something new and exciting.

“What do you think? Enough proof?”, the Scandinavian midfielder gave you a challenging look.

“Yes, I think that was enough to make me believe that you were serious about this.”, you responded with a shy smile on your lips.

“That’s what we wanted to hear.”, Mapi commented beaming.

It took you some time to get used to a new relationship but a few weeks in, you could confirm that you felt happy and safe with your two girlfriends. So, of course you were a tiny bit sad when they left for the Champions League semifinal in London while you had to stay in Barcelona and work on your thesis… Or at least that was you told them.

Ingrid stood on the perfect green grass at Stamford Bridge right before warm-up. She watched the stadium slowly fill through a curtain of rain.

With a soft sigh, she said: “It's sad that y/n couldn't come with us to London, Mapi…”

“Maybe she can join us for the final if she isn't too busy.”, the injured defender shrugged.

“I mean it's in Spain which might make it easier for her.”

“That would be great.”, Mapi agreed.

A sudden grin appeared on Ingrids face as she pointed over towards the away fans. A red and blue flag had caught her attention. “Oh look, someone in the stands has the same flag as you, Mapi.”

As Mapi followed her gaze, Ingrids jaw dropped in shock: “Wait, is that y/n?”

From your place in the stands, you had no idea what your girlfriends said but the way their faces went from shock to lighting up with excitement told you everything you needed to know.

“There's no way!”, Mapi exclaimed.

“That little bi-…”, Ingrid started but was quickly interrupted by Marta who nodded in Vickys and Salmas direction. “Ingrid, not in front of the children!”

“Sorry.”, the Norwegian laughed before pulling Mapi with her towards the stands.

Laughing, you waved your Barcelona flag as they came to a stop in front of you: “Hi Ingrid, Mapi.”

“What are you doing here?!“, Mapi asked, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek.

You shrugged: “Surprising you girls.”

“You said you were too busy!”, Ingrid pouted.

“And I was busy but one of my fellow students reminded me that you only live once, so…” You gestured around the stadium with an innocent smile.

Mapi shook her head: “Why do you listen to them but not to us?”

“It's a scientific fact that we only have one life…”

She did not let you finish and instead rolled her eyes: “I can't with you nerd.”

“Me neither but I'm really glad you’re here.”, Ingrid smiled at you.

You grinned: “You're welcome.”

“You'll be our lucky charm.”, the defender winked and you could feel the blood rushing into your cheeks.

“Hope it works.”

Ingrid gave you a quick kiss: “See you after the match.”

“Have fun but win this.”, you called after her as she hurried away to warm up with the rest of the team.

Over her shoulder, she replied: “With Mapi and you we should be able to.”

“Ready, Mapi?”, you asked the Spanish defender smirking.

She took your hand in hers, replying confidently: ”Ready.”

“I can’t wait.”, you exclaimed as they started playing the hymn of the women’s champions league.

Despite the rain the team of your girlfriends were eager to win this and Mapi and you tried your best to support them from the stands. After the match ended in a 2:0 for Barcelona, your friend cheered:”Y/n, we won!”

“Ingrid was amazing, right?”, you wanted to know from her, your eyes lit up with excitement.

“Yes, she was.”, Mapi grinned at you. Both of you were too caught up in your bliss, so you didn’t saw the Norwegian coming.

“Hey!”, she greeted you, mirroring your bright smiles.

“You were so great, Ingrid.”, you told her proudly.

“Thanks.”, Ingrid responded.

“We’re so proud of you.”, Mapi mumbled while wrapping her arms around the taller woman who lifted her up easily in their hug.

“You were amazing support.”, the younger player declared.

The Spanish defender who was pulling you into the group huddle announced with a cheeky grin:” That means you’ve to come to the final too.”

“I do?”, you questioned amused.

“Yes, absolutely, you can’t say no.”, Ingrid tuned in.

“I’ll see if I can make it happen.”

“We’ll count that as a yes.”, Mapi winked at you before kissing first the Norwegians cheek than yours.

And indeed, you were able to come to the Champions League final much to the happiness of your girlfriends. The law of attraction didn’t allow anything else. Love has won before any of the teams graced the pitch.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 14

masterpost

“You always make the best waffles Hood,” Steph said as she stuffed another syrupy piece into her mouth. She carefully kept her attention on Jay and Cass and not on Danny, who still seemed to be mostly hiding under his mop of black hair at the other side of the table.

“Don’t lie to me,” Jay said. “I know what diner you go to every chance that you get to have waffles. You love those more than mine.”

“No,” Steph whined, looking longingly at the waffle Jay was taking out of the iron right then. “That’s like asking someone to pick between apples and oranges! Or at least oranges and clementines! Diner waffles are working with a whole different set up then your waffles. Those are my favorite diner waffles but yours are my favorite at home waffles. Different things Hood, different things.”

Jay rolled his eyes and handled over the waffle.

Steph took it triumphantly and shot Danny a wink as he covered up his laughter.

“That’s your last one for right now,” Jay said with a pointed jab of his finger. “Danny gets the next one then Cass and then I get to eat some of the damn waffles I’m busy making.”

“Yes, Boss,” Steph chirped and gave a salute with her fork. “How are you liking them, Danny?”

Danny ducked his head back down again, but at least he answered, which was more then Steph had gotten so far. “They’re good. I like them with the fruit.”

“Yeah, that’s the big bad red wolf here trying to get us to be a little more healthy,” Steph said.

“Doesn’t work,” Cass said with that pleased little smile of hers. Steph always loved that smile.

“It sometimes works,” Steph corrected, even if Cass gave a little snort at that.

“They’re good. I missed fresh fruit,” Danny said as he carefully speared another blueberry on top of a precisely cut piece of waffle.

Hell, that made her want to go out and buy Danny a fruit basket. Maybe she would next time she came over. She needed to start earning some points with Danny and he deserved good things.

“Well, luckily Hood will keep you well in stock,” Steph said, making sure her voice stayed cheerful.

“Sure will,” Jason said. “And you can help yourself to the fruit that will be on the counter any time. Your stomach should be good enough now that you can eat pretty freely, just make sure to check with yourself if you’re full before getting seconds or something.”

“Look at Mama Red Hen, in his element,” Steph teased and reached out to catch the piece of fruit she knew would be tossed her way at that statement.

“It’s nice,” Danny mumbled down towards his plate. “Nice to have someone… looking out for things.”

Steph just about melted. “Yeah, it is. You can come to any of us for stuff too. Hood is a real mother hen and Nightwing is pure big sibling energy, but like, O is the best if you need finding things and Red is scarily good at puzzling out a problem. B.B. gives good cuddles and Signal is great when things get too crazy! Robin really protective but not nearly as much as the big Bat himself and Agent A always has what you need.”

Danny looked up at her from under his bangs, blue eyes wide.

“Have we given you a phone yet?” she continued, not knowing what to do with a young Bruce being able to give such good puppy dog eyes. “We need to get you a phone with all our numbers. I’ll have Red get on it, or O. Is O better?”

“Depends on the phone,” Cass pointed out.

Steph nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll ask the group chat I guess what we need for Danny.”

“I don’t, you… Red already gave me a tablet to use.”

“Have to look after you,” Cass explained in that gentle way of hers.

Danny’s gaze darted from Steph to Cass and over to Jason. When that look landed on Jason, it turned to worry in a way that confused Steph. Weren’t they supposed to be reassuring Danny of his continued place with them so that he would talk to the old man?

Jason set another waffle on Danny’s plate. “Told you it wouldn’t change anything.”

“They know?” Danny asked, his voice a rough whisper.

“Yeah, sorry,” Jason said. “With you bleeding like that I needed to explain things to them, not that I know that much. We haven’t exactly gotten back to that talk and there’s no rush to. The point of all this, kid, is that you’ve got us now. Whatever happens, you’ve got us and we’re going to make sure you can always get a hold of us.”

“But you don’t know,” Danny whispered. His grip on his fork was so tight that his knuckles were white and trembling.

Danny flinched when Cass reached out and touched his hand, but he let her unwind his grip from the fork and look the skin over for damage. When she found none, she wrapped it up in her own.

“Look, Danny,” Steph said. “We’re like the worst trio for this. You need like, Nightwing and Signal and O here for that reassuring ‘we’ve got your back’ sorta talk.”

Jason snorted and Steph flapped a hand at him.

“But the thing is,” she continued, “is that the Bats of Gotham have claimed you as theirs now and that means they protect you and care about you. It’s okay whatever we don’t know cause trust me, we have all fucked up pretty big at times, but we’re still Bats and everyone still has our backs. So, I get that we might have some convos ahead of us that are scary for you, talking sucks, but that’s not going to change shit.”

“But you’re, aren’t you…. I’ve read about you on the tablet. Lots think Bruce Wayne funds you. What if he tells me to get out?”

Jason scoffed loudly. “Yeah, no, he doesn’t control us like that.”

“He is nice,” Cass said, “bad at emotions, but nice. He will like you too.”

Danny rubbed his free hand over his eyes. “How can you know?”

“Because you are you,” Cass said simply. From here it sounded like an iron clad fact.

Danny just sniffled.

“Come on, waffles before they get cold,” Jason ordered.

Steph figured maybe they should talk about things more, but they really weren’t the group to do talking, at least not about anything important. She’d let Dick know Danny needed the reassurance though for when he came to the apartment. Even as good as Dick was at playing big brother, Steph didn’t really think that Danny would feel alright until he met Bruce. Somehow, they’d have to convince him that it was time.

---

AN: And we are back by vote with the first part of the next chapter! Sorry for the long delay, but life really was kicking me while I was down. And now I have a cold(?) so you know, expect typos. But Steph finally makes a showing! That means the horde of bat siblings have all met Danny. I wonder what's coming up next...?

Stay delightful, darlings!

[lovrre]

Agreement Prt2

I wrote half of this to Need by pinegrove ♫

Art Donaldson x fem black reader

Prt1 here

Word count: 3k

Warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex, creampie,slight breeding kink if you squint. cursing (ofc) slightly domestic relationship (not with Art)and probably some other stuff.

Summary: Despite being engaged to one of the top and richest tennis players in the US, you feel unfulfilled. But everything changes when you transfer schools and meet Art Donaldson, who just can’t quit you.

Author note: I’m so glad I finished I was scared I wasn’t, but your comments gave gave me motivation. Thank you pookies 🫦 I like this one a lot more than the first one. Arts also very obsessed and in love in this one.

After twenty minutes, you finish your meal, alone. You decide to leave through a back exit to avoid the paparazzi waiting outside the hotel entrance. You stumble upon a narrow hallway and carefully make your way out, trying not to attract any attention. When you reach the entrance of the restaurant, you open the door and are greeted by a charming and seemingly empty establishment. The cozy yellow lighting, old pictures, and paintings on the walls, along with the white tablecloths and wooden woven chairs, remind you of an old Italian restaurant you and Art used to go to. You see moving in your peripheral and catch a glimpse of familiar golden locks.

You walk closer to see Art and Patrick sitting at a small square table with a vacant seat, you assume is reserved for you. Patrick with a full plate of food and Art without. "Patrick?" You question, your voice filled with suspicion as you creep towards the table. He looks back at the sound of your In voice, a smile forming on his face as he stands up, “What the hell are you doing here?” You ask, taken aback going in for a hug. Patrick returns it with a laugh before releasing from the hug slightly to look at Art.

“Ask him” You look between them confused. “I asked him to come here” Art states, adjusting in his seat. “Why?“ you ask clearly confused with the situation, “someone could see” you add your gripping the back of your chair almost afraid to sit down. “I bought the place out for an hour, it’s just us” Art reveals looking up at you. “You what?” you exclaim, a bit louder than you intended.

“I’ll explain everything in a minute, just sit” Art laughs, gesturing for you to sit down. You let out a sigh, reluctantly pulling out your chair. “Ok tell me what is going on” you say, slightly impatient. “We’ve got a plan for your marriage situation”, Patrick says, mixing his ice tea with his straw. “A plan?” you repeat, still confused. "Yes, a plan," Art confirms with a nod. Patrick takes a quick sip of his tea before opening a tan folder that he hadn't noticed before. “The private investigator dropped these off at the dorm the other day”, Patrick says, pushing the open folder towards you.

Inside were pictures of your fiancée , kissing all types of women. The worst part is, it was so obvious, he didn’t have a care in the world, every photo taken on different days in different settings. Outside, inside in the morning and at night, all different women.

You knew you shouldn't be upset, but you were, not because he was seeing other people behind your back, shit you were doing that same with Art, but it was the fact he acted holier than thou. That he continued to try and control you while actively putting your agreement at risk. “Wow…” you mutter.

Shuffling through the photos. “That’s not even all of them” Art says.

“Yeah… I accidentally left the other ones, but these are the most important ones. There’s also some paperwork underneath with names, time stamps and dates on stuff” Patrick ads. “How isn’t this everywhere?” You ask, furrowing your brow. “The investigator thinks he’s been paying them off,” Patrick says, taking a sip of his drink.

"Not that I don't want you here, but couldn't you just have faxed these over?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah... but then I'd miss the match," Patrick says with a grin, taking a bite of his food. "Plus, I would never miss an opportunity to help my best buds."

"Okay, so what are we doing with these?" you ask, holding up the pictures in confusion.

"We're going to spin it," Patrick replies, still chewing his food. "My plan," Art reminds him, "my bad," Patrick laughs, still chewing his food. You couldn’t help but smile, you’d missed the three of you together.

"We're going to spin it," Art repeats, making you smile wider. "Is this why you're training with my father?" you interject . Art nods in response. "Why didn't you tell me any of this last night?"

Art didn't say anything, a knowing smile spread across his face. Patrick looks between the two of you "freaks," he jokes, "Anyway... how do you plan on spinning it?" You ask, ignoring his comment.

“We lean into the infidelity, take a couple of photos of you crying, the two of you arguing, or something like that release them”, Art explains confidently.

“But… I don’t see how this stops us from getting married, it’ll just look like I got cheated on,” you say, scrunching your brow.

“We’re hoping this, plus me winning today, will be enough to persuade the media against him?”

“You believe you can win?”

“I do,” he nodded.

“Okay… I’m down.”

“Told you,” Patrick added, still drinking his tea.

“Are you especially thirsty or something today?” you ask, tilting your head slightly watching him slurp down his tea. A second one untouched, waiting for him.

“I am actually, thank you for noticing,” Patrick says with a big smile before taking another sip.
You notice Art's eyes drop to Patrick’s plate for a second time while you two are talking.

“You should eat.”

“What?” Patrick says, looking between the two of you who seemed to be having your own conversation. 

“No, I’m okay,” Art says, shaking his head.

“Mike had French toast for breakfast, I think you could have-“ you cut yourself off, looking down at Patrick’s plate. “Egg and sausage.”

“You guys aren’t talking about my food?” Patrick asks, slightly disturbed by your conversation.

“Patrick, I can buy you some more damn eggs,” you assure him as Art pulls the plate from under him.

“What just happened?” Patrick asked, looking around confused with no food in front of him.

Your phone rings, and you look down to see who it is. “It’s my Dad,” you inform, excusing yourself you answering the phone as you walk out of earshot.

The two of them watch your backside as you walk away. “She still looks good”, Patrick bites his lip, leaning over to Art.


“Careful, ” Art warns.


“What? you guys can joke about but I can’t?”


“Exactly”, Art laughs, plucking him on the head.

~~~~

With a dig, the elevator door opens, releasing you to your floor. You walk to your room, opening the door with your key card. Mike is packing stuff away in his duffle bag, getting ready to see your father. You don’t acknowledge him walking past him into the bedroom,leaving the door open. You sit on the edge of the bed carefully taking off your heals, you stand up and unzip the back of your dress with ease. The dress gracefully falls into a pile at your feet leaving you in only your underwear. You step over your dress and begin looking through your suitcase located in the closet. The sound of footsteps causes you to look up to see Mike in the doorway watching you.


“Where are you going?” Mike asked, leaning on the door frame slightly. You don’t answer right away looking for your dress under your neatly folded clothes. “There’s a press meeting with Art Donaldson's team, My Dad thought it’d look good if I’d came ” you say, moving more clothes around. “You didn’t come to mine” Mike states still watching you search.

“You didn’t ask me to” you responded, pulling out a light pink dress from your suitcase. There’s a beat of silence as Mike watches your actions "and you need to change for this press meeting?” Mike asks, raising an eyebrow. "No, but I want to” you say, standing up. When you see mike's eyes roaming up and down your body, you suddenly remembered you were only in your underwear. 


“Can you turn around or something” you ask, scrunching your face up in disgust. “I’ve seen more than this” Mike chuckles before obliging and turning around. You roll your eyes by stepping into your dress. “I’m sorry for how I acted this morning, I’m just stressed,” he admits.

" Really?," you hum, pulling up the straps of your dress.

"I don't want to be that guy," Mike responds, still facing away.

"But you are constantly being that guy..." you mumble, but Mike hears you. 

"I won't anymore. I want this marriage to work y/n, I.”


You release a heavy sigh at his word. “You can turn around now ” You announce zipping up the side of your dress. Mike turns around and watches as you sit back on the edge of the bed putting on your heels. “You’re still going to that thing?” Mike asks with a confused expression. “What about that conversation gave off the vibe that I was no longer going?” You say pulling your stiletto over your heel.


Mike goes silently for a moment watching you walk toward the bathroom. “Like you need more makeup?” Mike scoffs. “Be honest with me are you fucking him?” He asks from behind you in the doorway while you remove a bit of smudged lipstick. “are you serious right now?” You ask staring at him through the reflection in the mirror. “I’m not a fucking idiot, I saw the way you looked at each other, and I get the feeling that’s wasn’t your first time meeting” 


“Only god knows what you’re doing at that college” you can’t stop your self from laughing. “I think you’re projecting” you say walking past him towards the door, picking up your purse on the way. “Where the fuck are you going?” Mike calls out, following you. 

You swing the door open and step out into the hallway. Mike trails behind and tries to grab your arm to pull you back inside. “DONT TOUCH ME!” You yell yanking your arm back. “C’mon Don’t make a scene” Mike says looking around. 


“You have some fucking nerve, you know that? Your friend Isabel came up here earlier looking for you, I’m guessing you guys have a lot of fun In Detroit” you say with a smile. “When were you in Detroit again…my birthday? You ask rhetorically, Mike goes silent for a moment before responding.
 "I don't know what you're talking about," he says, trying to keep his voice down. "You don't?" you question. "What about Sarah, Kim, Kate, Alex? Do you not know them either?" Mike opens his mouth, then closes it. "Yeah…" you drawl, 


"they meant nothing to me... I just needed to get it out of my system before fully committing. I want this to work, I want this to be real, y/n," Mike says, trying to corner against the door in a situation similar to the one you were in with Art last night.

"That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard," you respond, attempting to push past him. He grabs you again using his strength. You had forgotten how strong he actually was. “Last warning” you say looking up at Mike. he can tell by the look in your eyes you’re serious, he doesn’t know exactly what you’re going to do but something in his gut said don’t test it. “Let. Go” you repeat one more time before a voice interrupts you.

“Is everything ok?” Patrick asked from the end of the hallway. "Yeah, everything's fine," Mike reassured with a smile, gently releasing his grip on him. "We'll continue this conversation later," Mike says, forcing a tight-lipped smile as he presses the elevator button. "No, we won't," you smile back with a wave, as the elevator door chimes and he leaves. "Are you okay?" Patrick asks, walking up to you. "Yeah, he wasn’t going to hit me, he knows better," you laugh. "I was actually more concerned about you hitting him," Patrick jokes.

“I got the picture though” he smiles, showing you a camera and clicking through the images of your altercation with Mike.”These are good, you should take them now, I’ll call Art and tell him I’m on the way” you say, pulling out your phone.

“I’ll miss the game” Patrick states with a slight pout.

“Not if you hurry.”

~~~~~

"I won't keep you much longer, just a few more questions," the female interviewer says, holding the microphone up to Art. "Was the training for this upcoming match particularly challenging?" Before the interviewer could finish her sentence, Art was shaking his head. "Not necessarily, different for sure, but not harder."

"As of now, can you confirm or deny the rumor that you have started working with Olympic Coach Dylan Y\L\N?" the interviewer asked, lifting the mic slightly closer to his mouth. "Ummm," Art hesitates, accompanied by a smile. "I think I can. Yes, Dylan is my new coach."

"So you and your opponent today have trained under the same coach?" the interviewer asks, scrunching her brow. "Yes, we have," Art nods. "One more question, is there any special woman in Art Donaldson's life right now?" the interviewer asks with a smile. The sound of camera clicking intensifies, catching Art's attention. Intrigued, the interviewer turns around as well. "She is beautiful," Art says absentmindedly, staring in the direction where you're coming from. You give small waves to friends as you walk in. "That's your opponent's fiancé... and I guess also your trainer's daughter?" the interviewer says, looking confused and turning back to face Art.

"Really?" Art asks, faking shock with a dazed expression. "Yes," the interviewer nods. "I mean.. I meant what I said, She is beautiful," Art said with a laugh, causing the interviewer to join in. His eyes never leaving you. "Does your coach know you have a crush on his daughter?" the interviewer joked, chuckling. "He might now," Art says with a laugh before giving a quiet , "Nice meeting you," as he walks away out of frame.

A short while later, you find yourself reaching for a bottle of water from a nearby table, inserting one of those adorable green straws they had. Just as you're about to take a sip, a voice catches you off guard from behind. "There you are," Art says, a smile lighting up his face as he jogs towards you. As he approaches, you can't help but notice how close he gets, almost too close.

"You're not exactly great at keeping secrets, huh?" you chuckle, taking a step back. Art smirks, "Can't two friends have a conversation?" Peeking over your shoulder at the ongoing interviews, you reply with a straw in your mouth, "We're not even supposed to be friends. You're supposed to be my Dad's client, or from what I heard your crush." You laugh, recalling a question from one of the interviewers. "You're going to get us caught," you whisper quietly into the straw.

"I understand. I can't stand next to my trainer's daughter," Art nods, "Orrr, my opponents, fiancé, but maybe can I stand close to my crush?" Art asks.

 “I think you could, yeah” you nod trying to keep the smile on your face. “Crush it is,” Art says with a smile taking a step forward, yet still maintaining a slight distance. “Did you get the pictures?” Art asks his eyes falling down to your lips. “Yeah, we got them," you confirm with a nod, unable to hide your smile when you notice his lingering gaze. “So we’re in the clear?” his eyes still fixated on your lips, as if he's ready to pounce. "Not yet," you laugh, taking a step back. "We have to wait for them to go to press." Art throws his head back with a strained laugh, and you can't help but watch his Adam's apple bobs up and down. You hadn’t realized until that moment how much you wanted him, it was an all consuming need.

“Just one day," you murmur, unsure if you're speaking to Art or yourself. "Just one day," Art echoes, his eyes now fixed on your neck, his finger brushing your curls away. You watch as he exhales shakily, looking at the fading hickeys on your shoulder, barely hidden by makeup. "Just one day," you remind, removing his hand from your chest. "Just one day," Art repeats, tearing his gaze away to look back up at you. "Your car is here, Mr. Donaldson," a man in black approaches and announces.

“One minute” Art says, gesturing for another second. The man nods in acknowledgment and walks away. “Come with me?” Art asked. “I don’t think that’ll look good.” You alluded to the countless people with cameras surrounding you.

“I couldn’t care less” Art says, shaking his head slightly. “I’d kiss you right here, if you’d let me ” Arts words catch you off guard, and you take a deep breath to try to steady your heart beat. 

“This planning stuff is more for you than me, so you can feel more comfortable. And I’m perfectly fine doing it,’s just …” he trails of his eyes falling back down to your lip. "Alright, I'll come," you rush out, convincing yourself it's to prevent him from kissing you right then. But deep down you knew you just wanted to be near him. You follow closely behind.

Art swiftly enters the car before you lean up, capturing you with a kiss. Before you could even fully step inside, his hand gently grasped your cheek, drawing you closer to his lips as he guided you into the vehicle. Lost in the intensity of the moment, you surrender to the kiss. practically falling inside. The sound of the car door closing behind you brings you back to reality, but the kiss continues to deepen. Suddenly, the driver rolls up the partition, creating a sense of privacy.

A sense of responsibility tugs at you, and you reluctantly break the kiss when Art's hand starts to wander up your bare leg. "We can't," you whisper, "We don't even have a condom," you add, hoping the driver couldn’t overhear.


“You’re right” Art mumbles, sitting back against the seat trying to catch his breath. “ I lost myself for a second” Art laughs, attempting to slow his heartbreak. ”After the game I’ll come to your room” you nod, looking forward trying to gather yourself. “Don’t talk about that, talk about something else” Art says his voice coming out more strained. “Like what?” You turn around and ask. Your eyes landing on the strained erection in his pants. “Oh!” You say, snapping your head back forward. The familiar ache of your core comes back, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in an attempt to control yourself.


Against your better judgment, you take another peak. His hard shaft still straining against the fabric, you could damn near see the veins on his dick. “Can I?” You ask in a voice barely above a whisper. “Y-yeah” Art replies with a nod agjusting in his seat. You rub your hand back and forth against the Arts bulge while listen as his breath becomes more and more ragged.


Art makes a low moan and that’s enough for you to begin unzipping his pants. Against his better judgment he stops you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah” you nod breathlessly, fumbling with his pants, pulling them down until his dick springs free. When you begin pumping his shaft, he takes in a sharp breath which causes you to smile. You savor the feeling of his heavy dick in your hand, trying to combat the thoughts of his thick long length inside you. When Art's hips buck into your hand, you fold. “I need you inside of me”, Art opens his mouth to protest and then closes, watching as you bunch up your dress around your waist, pull your panties to the side and straddle him. He grabs your waist with one hand and lines himself up with your entrance with the other. 


You sink onto him with a little too loudly of a moan and Art does the same. Opening his mouth for a sloppy kiss, he doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size, moving you up and down his dick by your waist. ”shit I-“ Art groans out a wave of pleasure hitting him.
“-I can’t go back to condoms” he moaned, scrunching his brow in pleasure. You laugh and Art quickly retaliates by slamming you hard down on him. You let out a loud moan reflexively using your hand, trying to pull off slightly.

Art moves your hand out of the way, holding you down on him by your waist. “I’m serious”, Art grows leaning forward for another kiss while returning to his previous, rhythm. His words cause you to squeeze around him, and he lets out another low ground throwing his head back, breaking the kiss.



“I’m not going to last much longer” Art says breathlessly. “Just a little longer baby” you coo, leaving kisses on his Adam’s apple down his neck. “You drive me crazy, you know that” you moan feeling his pace fastest. “I do?” you feel Art smile against your cheek. You nod, falling into the crook of his neck enjoying the feeling of him fucking into you. “I want you to cum in me” you whisper, kissing the crook of his neck. “Fuck” Art groans, throwing his head back again. “You’re going to kill me” he states with a strained laugh.


You feel your release building so you decide to taunt him. ”you don’t want to fill me up?” You ask innocently, removing your head from the crook of his shoulder. Look down at him with lust, filled eyes. “Don’t” Art warns, his grip on your waist tightening, “you don’t want to give me a baby?” You huff out trying to keep your voice steady literally feeling him in your stomach. “Fuc- shit shit shitttt” Art moans holding you down onto him filling you up with his cum. His moans echoed through the car, the poor driver. 


“Fuck,” Art states after a minute. “Yea fuck,” you laugh, leaving a kiss on his cheek. “I think I might have a breeding kink”. Art laughs, “Me too,” you say with a smile, leaving another kiss on his head. You feel him twitch inside you, and knowing Art, you knew he would be ready for round two in a minute. You try to get off, but he holds you tighter, keeping you stationary. 

“I want it to stick” he smiles. Oh his smile, you rolled your eyes. You loved him, you knew it now, and you had a feeling he did too. You had been lying to yourself pretending you liked you didn’t care as much as he did. But at that moment you knew you never wanted anyone but him.



You glance out the window to see you were seconds away from the stadium, and then you notice your father standing on the sidewalk. “Oh my god! MY DAD HERE” you say, scurrying out of Art's lap. Art looks out the window, seeing your father standing on the sidewalk expectingly. “Shit” Art huffs, sitting up slightly, pulling up his pants, you take a wet rag next to the champagne and quickly wipe the inside of your leg. You quickly fix yourself before rushing to wipe off any remains of your lipstick off his mouth with your hand.

"Oh no, do I have lipstick on my mouth?" you ask frantically. "Nope, all clear," Art replies with a grin, planting a quick kiss on your lips. "Art," you warn, settling back in your seat. "My bad," Art chuckles, getting ready to exit the car. The car come to stop and your dad Yanks open the door.

"Hurry up, we're late. Mike's already inside," your Dad urges, When he sees you, his expression turns puzzled.

"We were heading in the same direction, so we decided to ride together," you explain before he can say anything. Your dad eyed you both suspiciously. "Alright, let's go," he says, ushering Art into the building. You wanted to say goodbye or wish him luck, and you could sense Art wanted to as well but it would be just too obvious.

You step out of the car, rummaging through your wallet. You tap on the driver's window, and he rolls it down. "Sorry about that," you apologize, handing him a 100 dollar bill before heading into the building.

Once inside the stadium you sit next to your Dad’s team which was now also partially Arts team and somehow also Mikes. Your phone buzzes and look down to see a familiar unsaved number.

“I think your Dad on to us”

“What did he say?” you text back anxiously your fingers moving fast on the keys.

“Nothing really, but i think he knows”

“Did he seem mad?”

“Not really”

“That’s good” you send, letting out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Good luck :)” you add before stuffing your phone in your purse . Almost immediately your phone dings and you pull it back out.

“You gave me enough of that in the car ; )” you can’t help but smile at his corniness.

“You’re nasty.”

“Not as nasty as you” you’re about to laugh at his message when you hear a voice directly behind you. “You guys are actually freaks” Patrick says with a laugh jumping over the seat so he was directly next to you. “I applaud you guys for staying consistent at least” Patrick says lightly hitting you on the shoulder. “Can you mind your business” you say rolling your eyes, stuffing your phone in your purse.

“Actually I’ve been minding you two’s business all day with no pay by the way” Patrick adds. “So I think I’ve earned the right to be a little nosy” Patrick says making a pinching gesture.

“So you delivered the pictures?”

“Yes” he responded with a nod

“Thank you” you express your appreciation, turning your attention back to the court.

“Do you think he’s gonna win” Patrick asks leaning in slightly, curious to your answer.

"I hope so, but I don't know. I haven't seen him play in a while," you admit with a weak smile, the reality of the situation sinking in. "I really hope he does win," you mumble.

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Holiday Special

Summary: You get ready for your first Christmas with the Maximoffs, but not everything goes according to plan.

Part 2 of 3 of the Holiday Special

A/N: Can you spot the major character we're introducing?

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

Wanda wakes up, alone and confused. The light outside tells her it’s later than usual, and she suddenly remembers it’s a school day.

The woman hurries down the stairs, finding you in the kitchen.

“Hey, chatty patty” you say with a smile, loving her disheveled state. “Hungry?”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 11” you look at your wrist watch, pushing a plate towards her.

“School! The kids!”

“I already drove them to school, and yes they had breakfast that wasn’t just cereal” you explain. Wanda finally sits, and looks at the french toast you’re offering.

“This is really good” she praises as she takes a bite.

“I know I call you cute when you’re cooking, but that’s not the only reason I watch you do it, baby” you smile, kissing her temple as you stand up to pour her some coffee. “In Medicine you learn by watching and doing. I’m trying to learn cooking as if it was the same”

“You’re on the right track. Thank you” she comments as you hand the mug. “I’m just a little lost, why did I not wake up?”

“You really don’t remember?” you say, amused.

“No. Did we…?” she says, suddenly afraid that she fell asleep in the middle of sex.

“Oh, no. If we did, you’d remember. Trust me” you say in a low voice, moving closer. Wanda’s eyes drift to your lips and you smile, pleased with her reaction. “No, we didn’t have sex, baby. You woke up at two in the morning talking about a book idea and I wrote it all down until you went back to sleep”

Wanda notices the notebook on the counter, and she takes it. The story is about a girl that makes a drawing of her perfect pet. Her brother sees it and adds things like dragon wings and fangs. By night, the drawing comes to life, and it follows the girl everywhere she goes.

“This is a full story”

“Mhm”

“This is like three months work”

“Glad to hear we were productive” you nod, not understanding her issue with saving months of work.

“This never happens!”

“Counterpoint, you never had a light sleeper that woke up to your mumbling” you point out, stealing some of her toast.

“Yeah… that’s a good point” Wanda says, frowning. You miss the way she looks at you, as you lean forward to read over everything she said while asleep. Honestly, the story is sweet and very original. To think it was something she came up while asleep is bonkers.

“Wow” you laugh as Wanda lunges forward, kissing every inch of your face.

“You’re so hot right now” she says against your neck and you sigh, pleased.

“Well, let me show you what other stuff we could do to lose some sleep” you propose, carrying her to the couch.

—

For the next day, while you’re at work, Wanda is focused on meeting with Laura and her publisher. You get a few texts here and there, but you know she’s in the middle of a creative storm and you’re happy she finally found the inspiration needed for her next book.

Still, it’s a tough shift as you lost sleep on your day off.

“Wild night?” Darcy says as you’re sprawled across the break room couch.

“Jealous?”

“Meh” she shrugs her shoulders. “I hear Fury is going to be lighting up the Christmas tree in the foyer. Wanna come see?”

“Oh, yeah!” you stand up, eager to check if it will go down the same as every year. Without fail, someone forgets to test the lights and as he plugs it in, nothing happens.

Darcy and you are leaning against the railway, chuckling while Fury screams.

“Every damn year! We run a hospital. Why can’t anyone check the lights?”

“It never gets old” you smile, feeling like the holidays are finally here. You’re about to suggest a trip to the cafeteria when Carol comes right behind you, borderline hysterical.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Uh… is there an emergency? Did you page me?” you check your device, Darcy frowning at Carol’s outburst.

“Yes, there’s an emergency! Come here, the both of you”

With surprising strenght, she pulls you to one of the meeting rooms, a couple of sample cakes in display.

“We’re tied”

“Who is?” you say, reading the flavors written in the small cards.

“Maria wants one flavor and I want another one. We need a tiebreak. You are my maid of honor. So, help me!”

“Ok, we’ll try them out. Jeez”

“I’ll be right back” Carol says, leaving the room in a hurry.

Grabbing a fork, you begin to take little bites of every cake, nodding approvingly.

“Chocolate ganache is to die for” you moan, feeling so happy that Carol is in the middle of this predicament.

“You should have red velvet for your wedding” Darcy points at the one she’s tasting.

“I’m not getting married”

“Yet”

“Darcy, come on” you roll your eyes.

“Oh, like you don’t have an idea on how to propose to Wanda already” she mocks, which shuts you up real fast. “I know you better than anyone. And I better be your maid of honor”

“I’m not getting married” you insist, this time  with less conviction.

You keep discussing the flavors and come to the conclusion that chocolate ganache is the winner.

“That’s the wrong answer! Carrot cake!” Carol huffs when you tell her your decision.

“Not everyone likes it. It’s just a weird choice” you say, while Darcy nods.

“Everyone likes chocolate” she points out.

“Fine, whatever! You win, Willy Wonka” Carol storms out of the room.

“Wow, you dodged a bullet there” Darcy says and you nudge her side.

“Don’t be mean. She wants her wedding to be perfect. That’s nice” in that precise moment, you get paged and you decide to take the rest of the chocolate cake to eat on the way. “See ya!”

“Thief!”

A couple of emergencies take your attention, making you go into the OR. Your phone is forgotten and by the time you check, there’s a single text from Wanda.

W: Are you coming for lunch? I want to tell you something important.

Your heart begins to race, and you remember a few days ago during the snow storm. She mentioned something but you distracted Wanda and you figured it wasn’t that important.

Y/N: Is everything ok?

Coming out of nowhere, Carol once agains blindsides you.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Go…”

“Dress fitting. Your bridesmaid dress”

“Now?” you look at your phone. Wanda hasn’t replied. But Carol looks ready to kill you and you won’t take your chances. “Sure, let’s go”

Y/N: Gotta take care of something, will try to be back for lunch. Love you.

There’s no reply and during the entire car ride, you look out the window, wondering if you messed up in any way.

“I’m sorry” Carol says, mistaking your silence with annoyance. “For snapping at you”

“Oh, that’s… well, not cool, but I don’t take offense. I just never thought you’d be the Bridezilla type, Danvers” you joke.

“It’s more about the holidays. Maria’s family and mine are coming over. They’ve met each other a few times, but you know… it just feels like whatever happens during Christmas will set the tone for the wedding. And marriage”

“Sounds like a lot of pressure” you agree.

“I admire you for setting boundaries with your mother”

“It’s not a boundary, it’s more like thousands of miles and avoidance” you reluctantly admit, which makes her laugh. “It’s all gonna be fine. You’re marrying the girl of your dreams, and I will be there as well, in a cool, not at all pink bridesmaid gown to help with whatever happens”

“Actually…”

“It’s pink?” you say, mouth wide open. Carol nods, avoiding your eyes and you huff. “You’re lucky I’m such a good friend”

—

Wanda’s buzzing with excitement as she stops by the cafeteria, ready for her second meeting of the week with Laura.

It seems as if this new book will be out fast, and if it’s as successful as her past stories, Wanda could finally have some free time to focus on a whole different thing: a trilogy for young adults.

Wanda leaves the cafeteria carrying a tray with two cups and scones, knowing that you’d be the first one to support her if it all works out.

She’s surprised to find you walking across the street, as your last message gave her the impression you still had work to do. Wanda is about to call for you, when someone else joins you in the sidewalk.

Carol says something that makes you smile, linking her arm with yours. Both of you walk in the opposite direction of Wanda, getting inside a store.

Wanda replays the moment where Carol opened the door for you over and over again.

“Ready for day two?” Laura says as soon as her friend walks to her office. “Wanda?”

It doesn’t take much for Wanda to tell her what she saw. Beyond that, she goes over your strange attitude recently, smoking compulsively and having trouble sleeping.

“Maybe she’s rethinking our relationship, maybe Carol is trying to win her back…”

“Wow, slow down. You said they were going inside a bridal shop?”

“Yes, I think it was”

“Well, what if… she’s thinking about… ya know” Laura says, wiggling her eyebrows excitedly.

“No, I don’t. What do you mean?” Wanda says, resisting the urge to drive back and get answers straight from you.

“Ok, so she’s been nervous, she visits a shop with all kinds of things for a wedding. Could it be that she’s working up the courage to propose?”

“No… I don’t think so. Do you think that could be it?” Wanda says.

“I think based on everything I’ve seen and heard about Y/N, that makes a lot more sense than her cheating on you” Laura shrugs her shoulders. “Look, just tell her you saw her. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation”

“But what if she is proposing and I ruin the surprise?” Wanda pouts, torn between what to do.

“Let’s get to work, I’m sure you’ll figure out what to do” Laura tries to divert the conversation, which works for a little while.

Except, she’s typing and Wanda is just doodling instead of creating sketches.

“Would you say yes?” Laura asks, amused at Wanda’s enamoured look.

The woman shrugs her shoulders, biting her lip as she imagines what it would be like to be married to you.

Needless to say, she doesn’t get much work done after that.

—

The flowers might be too much, but you rather be on the safe side. Wanda never replied to your text, so you drove straight home as soon as you came back from the dress fitting.

“Honey, I’m home” you joke, leaving your winter jacket and scarf at the coathanger. To your surprise, Wanda is sitting at the kitchen counter, looking conflicted.

“Hey” she says, letting you kiss her cheek. “What is this?”

“My favorite girl’s favorite flowers” you sit next to her, worried. “Is something wrong? I know you wanted to talk”

“Yes. I…” she takes a deep breath and turns to look at you. “Is something going on between you and Carol?”

“What? Is that what you wanted to talk about?” you say, confused. Where is this coming from?

“No. I was at the cafeteria around Bleeker Street and saw you with her” she admits, sighing.

“Wanda, I’m sorry. No, nothing’s going on. Carol and Maria are getting married and she asked me to be her bridesmaid. I said yes, before even thinking about consulting you. I guess I didn’t even know how to bring it up. I know our past… makes things weird”

You hesitate about reaching out for her hand, but then she lets out a laugh.

“I was about to ran over Danvers’ bike” she says, bringing her hand to her chest. “I’m sorry for not trusting you”

“No, I’m the only one who should be apoligizing. I should have told you. Can you please forgive me, love of my life?”

“There’s nothing to forgive”

“You know, you should play hard to get” you point out, your arms around her middle, placing a kiss against her temple. “Don’t forgive me so easily, I was planning on taking you out to a fancy place to earn it”

“Mmm, you’re right. I’m too forgiving” she jokes.

“Wait, you sent me the text before I left with Carol. So that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about” you suddenly remember.

Going back to face her, you lift Wanda’s chin with your hand, making her look at you. She seems suddenly nervous.

“I was thinking… you don’t have to answer right now. And also, with this new book, I might be too busy and the house will be a mess for a while and you don’t wanna be around for it, you want your own space… forget I even asked”

She’s rambling, so you craddle her face in your hands, making her stop with your lips on hers.

“You haven’t even asked anything” you nudge your nose against her, smiling lovingly at the way she melts against your touch.

“Move in with me. Us”

“What?”

Never in a million years would you have guessed this was coming.

“This is your home as much as it is ours. I want you here all the time, I want to make room for your stuff, look for my clothes in the closet and stumble upon your scrubs” Wanda says. “Either way, you spend more time here than at your own place. You could also save some rent money”

“You had me at this is your home, my love” you laugh, kissing her again. “And no worries, no wet towels in the bathroom, I promise”

“We have a deal” she smiles against your lips, heart beating faster at this new step you’re taking together.

—

You should have listened to that Kondo lady when she was all the rage. Your house is full of crap, and none of it brings joy. Only dust and boxes that get in the way of packing.

Good news, it’s gonna be an easy move. All you have are clothes, books, some records and pictures.

“Are you sure you wanna throw this stuff?” Wanda says, holding a couple of trophies from Science Fairs and other stuff.

“Yes, baby” you nod, handing over a box. “I don’t think that has any value to my career as a surgeon”

“I think they’re cute. You were a nerd”

“Yeah, that I was” you smile. You keep digging through old boxes, until you get to one you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“What is this?” Wanda kneels next to you. She sees the picture you’re holding. “Is that your dad? Oh my God, you look exactly like him”

“Yeah, two peas in a pod” you laugh, admiring your matching Halloween outfits. Ghostbusters, obviously. You flip through the album, grateful that you had the sense to take it with you after you left for college. You know your mother would have thrown it in the trash.

“Why isn’t this in a frame?” Wanda takes a lose photo of you two during Christmas.

“I guess I never got around to doing it” you shrug your shoulders. There’s a tin box, and you kinda wished you hadn’t opened it. A broken wrist watch is the only thing inside it. “He loved this watch. Was wearing it on the day of the accident” you mutter, suddenly feeling small.

Wanda let’s you sit in silence for a few minutes and then places her hand on your shoulder.

“We can take a break from all the packing, yes?”

“Yeah, ok” you nod, standing up. Wanda takes your hand and leads you back to her -and now your- place. There are already several boxes in the living room of your new home.

Home, that word fits so well with how you feel here.

The only other time where you felt like you belonged was in college, in the dorm you shared with Darcy and then at the hospital, which wasn’t strictly a home.

Without saying anything, Wanda pulls you to the couch, and you let her rest her head against your chest as you watch “Golden Girls”. She had you to thank for introducing her to a whole new obsession.

“Shouldn’t we go pick up the kids now?” you say after a while, looking at the hour.

“Sharon is driving them here”

“Now she’s your best friend”

“I’m sure she only offered to see you again and annoy me” Wanda chuckles, looking up at you. “Unfortunately for her, I don’t share”

“Mmhm” you smile against her lips, enjoying her possesiveness.

By the time Sharon drops off the kids, Wanda’s shown you how she really feels about sharing, making sure there’s a visible mark on your neck as you walk out of the house to greet Tommy and Billy.

“Hey, Y/N” Sharon says, playing with her sunglasses.

“H-hi, Sharon. How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know. Enjoying the cold days, wishing I had someone to warm me up”

“Yeah, it’s cold. Outside, and inside too if you don’t have any heating” you mumble, trying to end the conversation. “Stay hot. I mean, warm. And thanks for dropping off the kids”

“My pleasure”

Sprinting back home, you lock the door and lean against it, hoping you won’t have to talk to the woman in a very long time.

“I see that little mark on your collarbone wasn’t enough. Maybe I should leave more on your neck” Wanda taunts.

“Baby, I could tattoo your name across my forehead and that woman would still try to get in my pants” you sigh, hands resting on Wanda’s hips. “Are we telling the kids about me moving in?”

“Yeah, come on”

Billy and Tommy are in the backyard, throwing a ball that Sparky chases around. They both approach you as Wanda calls for them, and she kneels to be at eye level with them.

“Boys, we have news. Y/N is moving”

“What? Where? You’re not gonna have your house across the street?”

“Mama, we should all live together” Tommy says, pleading to his mother.

“Oh, my darling boys, Y/N is gonna move with us! We’ll all live here. What do you think about it?”

“Yaaay” they run towards you, talking as fast as they can.

“I’ll make room in my drawers for you!”

“You can take one of my shelves”

Each kid takes turns on ideas to make room for you, and you hug them closer.

“I’m sure we’ll find a place for all my stuff. Don’t worry about it, I’m just happy you want me to live here”

“We do” Billy says, and then he turns to his mother. “Can we please get pizza to celebrate, pleaaase?”

“Yes, can we?” you join, pouting.

Wanda rolls her eyes, laughing.

“I can’t believe I set myself up. Now it’s three children against one of me”

“You love us” you say, standing up and pulling her in for a kiss.

Wanda smiles against your lips.

“I do”

—

You’re buzzing with excitement to tell everyone the news, but you want Darcy to be the first to know.

While you sit in the cafeteria, the perfect oportunity presents itself.

“Ugh, one of your presents will arrive too late for me to wrap it up. I’ll send it but you have to promise you won’t open it”

“Yeah, yeah. Just send it home”

“No. I’ll send it to Wanda instead. She’ll keep it away from you”

“Same thing. Home for me, her. But I won’t open it” you smile as you take a bite of your sandwich, waiting for Darcy to understand what you mean.

“You? And her? Moving in together?” this is the first time that you see Darcy so excited over your relationship, and she hugs you. “You’re not gonna die alone”

“Oh, shut it”

“What are we celebrating?” Carol says, taking a seat next to you.

“Y/N and Wanda are moving in together” Darcy says, practically singing. “And now I have to rethink my second present”

“Why do you give her two Christmas presents?” Carol looks between you two and Darcy gasps.

“She saw you naked but didn’t tell her about your birthday?”

“Eh, what can I say? I have intimacy issues” you shrug your shoulders, laughing as Carol catches up with everything.

“Your birthday is on Christmas Eve”

“That’s correct” you nod. Eager to change the subject, you ask about the wedding. Lunch is cut short as they’re both paged and you walk back to the front desk, dropping off some paperwork about discharges and patient forms.

You’ve been talking for a bit with the nurses when you feel someone stand behind you.

A beautiful redhead with striking green eyes smiles at you, and it takes you a moment to notice you’re staring.

“Hi. How can we help you?” you say, pulling the charts close to your chest, pretending to be casual.

“I’m looking for an old friend”

“Sure thing, do you know his room number?”

“I know his name. Nick Fury” she says with a smirk and you laugh.

“Oh, the Chief. He should be in his office reviewing schedules right about now. Just go upstairs and turn rigt” you point behind her.

“Thank you, Doctor…” she leans forward to read the name on your badge. “Y/L/N”

You’re about to ask her name when you’re paged.

911.

“My pleasure. Enjoy your reunion with the Chief” you excuse yourself, going back to the ER.

As a group of people involved in a car crash arrive, everything that just happened becomes irrelevant.

You have no idea how crazy your day is about to get.

—

“Let me see if I understand” Fury says, the tips of his fingers aligning as Natasha looks from the other side of her desk, impassive.

She’s got a poker face that no one can break, not even someone as respected as Nicholas Fury.

“You want to teach us the new surgical method your mother invented"

Natasha nods.

“Why the sudden interest in sharing with us?”

“You’re a teaching hospital. Stark is on this quest to make everything accessible for everyone. It gives us good press, and will draw attention to your program”

“No ulterior motive?”

“The world is getting more complicated. The Starks and Romanoffs are the families with the greater research capabilities, I think it’s time to stop competing with each other and work together” Natasha says.

“Just like that?”

“Well…”

Natasha doesn’t get to complete her sentence, as Tony walks in the room without knocking.

“Chief” he says, a bit distressed. It takes him a minute to process the other presence in the room. “Romanoff?”

“Hey, Tony”

“What are you…? Ok, that’s for later. There was an avalanche in Silverton Mountain, several people are trapped and injured. They’re requesting aid”

“Let’s page Y/N and prepare the ER to receive them”

“Sorry for cutting your meeting short, I’m sure it wasn’t important” Tony winks at Natasha.

“I’ll be back later” she says. “Don’t be such a sore loser, Tony, not everyone can have a Nobel Prize”

“Your mother won that, not you” he says, trying to keep his cool.

“Well, let’s see if another Romanoff can beat you to it again” the woman says, smiling while Fury stands up.

“Children, not now. Call me tomorrow, Romanoff”

The two men leave his office, walking to the ER to find the head of Trauma.

“Is it a good idea to leave her alone there?”

“She’s not a spy, Stark”

“Her mother sent her for some nefarious purpose, I’m sure”

“That’s a talk for later. Y/L/N” Fury finally spots you.

“Chief, what’s up?”

“Avalanche in Silverton Mountain. I’m sending the chopper with you, Barton and another doctor of your choice”

“We’re only transporting critically injured patients, the rest will be taken by ambulance to local hospitals” Tony adds, while you walk back to prepare.

“Ok, I’m taking Bishop with me. Anything else I should know about?”

“Expect a long day” Tony pats your shoulder and you sigh.

Looking for the storage room, you find a three layered rescue suit, preparing for the cold and relentless weather of the mountains. Next are medical supplies, rope, thermic blankets, comms and avalanche probes.

Once you check everything’s set up, you change your sneakers for hiking boots and carry everything in a waterproof backpack. Just as you’re about to leave, Kate comes in. You show her the clothes she should change into, and what to put in her own backpack.

“I’ll meet you at the rooftop”

Wanda doesn’t pick up the phone when you call her, so you leave a voicemail explaining you won’t be reachable for a couple of hours.

As you walk to the elevator, you meet the mysterious woman again.

“Up or down?” you ask as you both reach for the button.

“Down. You?”

“All the way up”

“Going somewhere?” she teases.

“Just a helicopter ride. Care to join me?” you say, not knowing what makes you joke with a stranger.

“Perhaps next time. Take this one. I’ll wait for the other elevator” the woman says when the doors open. You nod your thanks and your eyes meet as you press the button. “I do hope we’ll see each other again, Y/N”

“I didn’t get your name”

“Natasha” the woman smiles, doors closing. The last thing you see is that cryptic smile as the elevator starts to go up.

The cold wind hits your face as soon as the doors open, Stark’s helicopter ready for the 15 minute flight to Silverton.

“Hey, Barton. Wilson?” you say, surprised. “Didn’t know you could fly these things”

“Hell, yeah. This is Redwing” he says, pointing at the helicopter.

“Stop calling it that” Stark grumbles.

Clint and you check for everything to be in its place and you nod as Kate joins you.

“I’m having everyone on standby, we’ll start preparing as soon as you call with more information on number of patients and status” Fury says. Then he turns to look at everyone else. “Stay safe and good luck”

The building becomes smaller as you fly away, and Barton chats with Sam for a bit about the weather and the rescue plan. You follow the conversation here and there, but instead look out the window and then to Kate, who seems to be deep in thought.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, just nervous” she admits and you nudge her knee with your hand.

“It’ll be fine, you’re gonna fly back with patients that need to be at Stark hospital. I’ll show you what to do”

“Ok”

As soon as you land on the area, a group of first responders run to greet you.

“Lee Jones” the team leader introduces himself. “There are six people still missing, we secured the area and will be starting a second round of search” he says, pointing at a nearby hill.

“Doctor Bishop, head to where the rescued people are to evaluate them” you say, and she walks back to an operations center with several stretchers. “Do we have a list of the people missing?”

“Here”

You take the paper, inspecting it. Two women, one children, four men. Your stomach drops as you get to the last name.

“Barton” you pull him to get his attention. He reads over your shoulder, alarmed as well.

“Is this accurate? Have you doble checked these people are not back in their hotel?” he says, knowing that information could get lost during rescue.

“Yes, sir”

“Crap” he says, looking at the hill.

The name at the bottom of the list is Pietro Maximoff.

“Come on, no time to waste” you say, sprinting. A couple of people follow you, and you have to remember the training you got.

The first 15 minutes are crucial. And now, the people who didn’t die instantly, will pass from asphyxia, hypothermia or critical injuries.

Except Pietro. He knows what to do to stay alive. You just gotta find him.

“We gotta let Wanda know” Clint shouts next to you, the cold wind hitting you straight in the face.

“There is nothing to tell her now”

“Y/N”

“Go back and call her if you want. I can’t waste time right now, Clint”

It looks like there’s a storm forming. If you’re lucky, you’ll get an hour of not so bad weather and then, it will be too risky for them to continue.

Not you, though. You’re not leaving until you find Pietro.

“Here!” two people shout at the same time. You turn to run where they are. One of the rescuers is digging through the snow, and a woman’s face is visible. You want to keep looking for Pietro, but you came here to help everyone.

“I’ll keep searching” Clint nods your way.

The second person they find is the woman’s child.

“Hypothermic, hard to say if they have other injuries. I’d recommend you take them back to Stark Hospital, call and ask for doctor Lewis and Rambeau. Wilson will fly them there” you instruct the rescuers.

“I found one, he’s dead” you hear through the radio and your heart drops. You race to where the rescuer is, praying that it’s not Pietro. “Male, approximately 50”

You take a minute, holding your side as the cold air makes it hard to breathe.

“Mark the spot so we can recover the body and alert his family” Lee instructs.

They keep using the avalanche probes, to no avail.

“You’re walking too far away and the wind is getting worse” Clint warns you, but you ignore him. Pietro has to be here.

“Come on, come on” you walk faster, the wind almost knocking you down.

“Y/L/N, come back” Clint says, this time through the radio so everyone can hear him. “Now”

You ignore him, looking around. Everything is white… except.

A spot of color. Bright yellow and green. Just like the gloves you gave Pietro.

“Pietro” you run towards it, heart beating out of your chest. There he is, you can see his face, and part of his hands, as he managed to dig through the snow to be able to breathe. “Clint, I found him”

Pietro’s vitals are weak, but he whines when you call his name. Everyone comes running to help you, digging him out.

“Can you hear me? Frosty, come on” you insist, inspecting every inch of his body. “He’s going back to Stark Hospital with us, now”

“As soon as Wilson comes back”

You nod, stabilizing his neck as the men carry him to the operation center. You hear through the comms that they found the last man, unfortunately deceased as well.

“It’s a miracle we found him alive” Clint comments.

You stay quiet, going over statistics and the list of injuries that could be life threatening and you won’t know about until you do imaging.

“I’m calling Laura, so Wanda’s not alone” Clint says. You should have brought your phone. He greets his wife, and a moment later his face falls. “Wanda’s there with you? Can you put her on the phone?”

Now it’s your turn to feel dread, taking the phone with shaky hands.

“Sweetheart” you say, feeling awful when you hear Wanda’s voice, knowing what you’re about to say will destroy her. “You might want to sit down”

—

“Male with helmet and airbag, was conscious during rescue and prior to boarding the helicopter. Heart rate weak, slow, irregular due to hypothermia; passive warming techniques started on the way to the hospital. No visible trauma, do a complete body scan” you say as soon as you land, Carol and Stark the first to greet you at the rooftop.

Wanda’s not here yet and you’re not ready to face her, especially since you have no idea on the extent of his internal injuries.

“Are you ok? You’re shivering” Darcy comments when you change into your scrubs, and all you can do is nod.

“Fine”

Thoracic spine fracture, comminuted knee fracture and intracranial hemorrhage. The room is silent as you look at the images, knowing it’s gonna be a long and challenging intervention.

“Wanda’s here” Kate says as soon as you take the elevator to the OR.

“Not now, Kate. Tell her we’ll keep her updated and then scrub in”

Carol gives you a curious glance, but keeps her comments to herself.

There’s silence in the OR as you work with Carol and Kate, while Stark and Parker deal with the hemorrhage.

“Doctor Y/L/N” Fury steps in.

“Not now”

“Miss Maximoff would like an update”

“I don’t have one for her” you let out an exasperated sigh when Fury insists, turning to look at Stark. “Do you have an update? How about you, Danvers? Alright then, when we know something other than his body is all kinds of fucked, we will give Miss Maximoff an update”

“You’re too close to this”

“No, I’m stabilizing his spine so he can teach his nephews how to ride a fucking bike and all you are is a distraction. Leave my OR, now”

You can feel Fury’s angry stare in the back of your head, but ignore it and keep working.

Stark is the first to break the silence, if only to ask for more suction.

“I’m done with the knee. If you want to update her” Carol says after a while.

“You heard her, Bishop”

“You should go. I’m sure Wanda will want to hear it from you”

“No” is all you say, voice shaking.

No, you can’t face Wanda now. You don’t know if Pietro is gonna make it and you won’t lie to her.

Beyond that, you can’t imagine what she’ll say to you if you can’t save him.

Why didn’t you find him faster? Why didn’t you help him?

This is your fault.

“BP’s dropping” the nurse alerts you.

“One minute” Tony says, eyes glued to his work.

“Stark, he’s crashing” you insist. He ignores you and you’re about to throw your scalpel and start CPR when Pietro’s vitals stabilize.

“You gotta let me work too” Tony says. “Peter, close here. Let’s see that spine now”

After three more hours of work, there’s nothing left to do but wait. While Pietro’s transferred to the ICU, you stay back, removing your facemask and surgical cap.

Carol stands next to you, without saying a word.

“If he doesn’t make it, Wanda’s never going to forgive me” you say, looking at the ground.

“You don’t believe that” Carol says.

“I don’t know. But I guess I’ll find out”

“It’s gonna be fine” she says, giving your arm a squeeze and you nod, leaving the scrub room.

Your hands shake as you press the elevator button that will take you to Wanda. The adrenaline is slowly leaving your body, but your muscles can’t relax, still waiting for an even bigger disaster to come.

Forcing yourself to step into the hallway, your eyes meet Wanda’s across the room. They are reddened by the tears, her hair a bit disheveled and all over the place.

Whatever you were about to say dies in your throat. She stands up, walking towards you, and you brace yourself for a myriad of insults and bitter words.

Instead, she throws herself in your arms, crying.

“You’re ok” she keeps saying. “I was so scared. I’m so sorry”

“It’s fine. I’m here” you hold her closer, kissing her head and shedding a couple of tears. “We did everything we could, Wanda, please believe me. Now we have to wait for him to recover. Please, please don’t hate me”

“You saved him. He’s alive because of you” she says, her arms still on your back. “I don’t know what I’d do without you”

“I’m here” you sigh against her temple. “It’s all going to be fine”

But you don’t know if that’s true.

—

Natasha answers the call as soon as she’s in her suite, knowing her mother only had a few minutes to chat.

“Hello, dear. How did it go?”

“It was cut short. An emergency” the redhead sighs, sitting in the bed and taking off her heels. “They used Tony’s helicopter and everything”

“The Stark boy, always wanting to be the center of attention” Melina tsks. “Did you get to see their ER?”

“Not yet. I did meet their Head of Trauma”

Natasha’s mind goes back to you. She was honestly surprised when she saw you waiting for the elevator in the rescue gear. You weren’t like any other of the Trauma surgeons she had met before.

“What did you think of them?”

“Very heroic. Jumped straight into the danger, no questions asked. And she yelled at Fury when he tried to keep her out of the OR”

Another pleasant surprise. It was hard to tell you had that fire in you, with those kind eyes and gentle smile.

“Do you want to hire her or date her?” Melina picks up on her daughter’s tone.

“Can’t I do both?”

“My darling girl, of course you can. When was the last time you didn’t get what you wanted?”

—

It’s cold and you can’t reach for whatever it is you’re looking for.

What were you trying to find in the middle of nowhere?

It’s dark, except for a circle around you, and there’s no way to tell up from down.

Except when you see something next to your feet, and you kneel down. As you pull from it, the snow moves and you can see Pietro’s face. You dig deeper, and then you see Wanda. Every time you remove snow, there’s another face, until you find your father, staring at you.

You try to reach for him, but the watch on your wrist reaches zero on its countdown, the beeping sound mocking you as you run out of time.

“Wait” you jump up, looking around.

On call room. You’re in the hospital. There’s solid ground beneath you, not layers and layers of snow.

The sound comes from your pager.

911.

Everything feels like an emergency these days. You’ve lost track of time, alternating between your shifts and the ICU, where Pietro is still recovering.

It’s been four days and he hasn’t woken up yet.

“What do we have?” you ask Kate, who begins to give you the overview.

It’s not something that requires surgery, which makes you sigh with relief. This is the end of your shift and you need to eat something before heading back to the ICU.

“When was the last time you left the hospital?” Darcy says and you shrug your shoulders, eating your sandwich and feeling ill the second you swallow.

You have to force yourself to eat lately.

“I don’t know”

“The day of the accident. Five days ago. You can’t keep going like this” your friend says, but you avoid her stare.

“Wanda is not allowed in the ICU and Pietro shouldn’t be alone in there”

“Pietro is unconscious. Wanda is the one that’s at home, alone and scared. I think her brother would appreciate you keeping her company” Darcy reasons with you.

You rub your temples, trying to not throw up.

Truth is, you’re scared that the other shoe will drop. That things between you and Wanda could turn sour if her brother doesn’t show any signs of improvement.

“You are carrying an immense responsibility and burden, that it’s not yours. Nor anyone’s. It was an accident. It’s life” your friend insists, knowing very well the meaning behind your silence.

You keep looking down, chin resting on your hand as a couple of tears run down your cheeks.

Darcy’s expression softens at that.

“I’ll stay with Pietro for a bit. Wanda is in the foyer, ready to take you home. Please, go with her”

You try to say something, but the words get stuck in your throat. It’s been like this for days. When it comes to work, you function even better than usual, accostumed to chaos and uncertainty. The minute the conversation pivots, your throat closes, making it hard to utter a single word.

In the end, you nod, throwing away your barely touched food to go meet your girlfriend.

Guilt overwhelms you as you notice the bags under Wanda’s eyes. It’s impossible to be everywhere and be everything to all the people that matter to you, but you still feel like a failure.

“He…” you prepare the update, but Wanda kisses you, stopping the words from leaving your mouth.

“I’m here to take care of you. I already know everything there is to know. Let’s go home”

Taking a breath, you nod and walk behind her towards the exit. The light hurts your eyes, and you have to look down, frowning. Wanda’s hand is on yours, leading you to the car.

The ride home is silent. There are still some boxes in the living room, pushed to the wall to make room for walking. It gives an eerie vibe, another reminder that your entire world stopped almost a week ago.

“Are you hungry?”

“Just tired” you say in a low voice. “I smell like hospital”

Wanda nods, closing the door and walking you upstairs. All you’ve done for the past days is take quick showers, with cheap shampoo that is in the hospital and leaves your hair dry.

For the first time, you don’t have to hurry and jump into a spray of cold water, rinsing as fast as you can. The warm temperature  and pressure on your muscles feels like a luxury.

“Feels good?” Wanda whispers against your ear and you nod. She places a kiss on your shoulder’s scar. You step back, trying to chase after her touch, and she laughs.

That sound is enough to make you feel ten times lighter.

As you step out of the shower, you admire the way Wanda places a towel around her, and without thinking you meet her in a slow and tender kiss.

“Missed you” you say against her lips.

“I missed you too, sweetheart”

There’s no rush as you change into comfortable clothes, and rest your head on Wanda’s lap while she reads a draft for Laura to review.

“How’s the book coming along?”

“Good, very fast thanks to your help”

“So, do I get credited on the cover or something?” you joke, looking up.

“I can pay you in other ways for your very valuable contribution”

“I’ll hold you to that” you joke, feeling sleepy as Wanda runs her hand through your hair. 

The next time you open your eyes, it’s past noon. You turn in bed, Wanda looking at you.

“Were you watching me sleep?”

“No” she answers way too fast. “Maybe. I… you looked upset. Like you were having a nightmare. I just wanted to make sure you were ok, that’s all”

“I’m ok” you promise, pulling her so she’s resting against your chest. “How are Billy and Tommy?”

“Quiet. I know they’re worried and they’ve been missing you too”

“We could go out to the movies today” you suggest.

“Actually, they have a surprise for you” she looks up and you smile.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. And I promised them you are wearing an ugly Christmas sweater”

“Is that so?” you turn her in your arms, tickling her sides. “I don’t have any”

“I got you one” Wanda says between giggles and you pull her closer as she tries to get away from you. “Stop, please”

“Not until you show me that ugly sweater”

“Nu-uh, you’ll find a way to get rid of it”

“Then, you shall pay the consequences” you declare, laughing as she distracts you with a kiss.

—

“Is this absolutely necessary?” you say, walking towards the school auditorium. The sweater is not exactly ugly, it only has some paper figures hanging along the arms, which makes it uncomfortable to move around.

The biggest issue is that Wanda and everyone else is wearing normal clothes, which earns you a couple of funny looks.

“Babe, let me get changed, I have some scrubs in the car” you turn around, but Wanda catches you and pulls you back.

“I promise you, I’ll make it worth it” she says in a low voice against your ear. The little kiss Wanda gives behind your ear seals the deal.

“Are you gonna wear something slutty?” you whisper against her temple and she laughs.

“You’ll have to find out, detka”

“Detka?” you repeat, your pronunciation awful. “What does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you later. It’s part of your Christmas present” your girlfriend says, biting her lip.

She’s such a tease.

“Show’s starting, come on”

“Show?” you say, following her all the way to the front row. The lights go out but to your horror, your sweater glows in the dark. You struggle to take it off, but Wanda takes you by the wrists, laughing while you look around, embarrassed.

The first number is of really small children, who try to follow their teacher as they sing and dance, but looking adorably confused is enough to have all the parents clapping and cheering. After two or three more songs, you finally know why you’re there. Billy and Tommy are in the front of their class, singing Holly Jolly Christmas.

“Those are our boys!” you shout excitedly, looking around so everyone knows they’re your kids.

“Baby, I think they got it” Wanda smiles lovingly as you take out your phone and record, zooming in on the twins.

Once the song ends, you give them a standing ovation, and the only thing most people can see is a floating figure that glows in the dark.

The show goes on for another forty minutes, but you’re the first to go find the kids backstage. As soon as they see you, they jump into your arms.

“You were amazing! Next stop, Broadway!”

“Did you like the sweater we picked out for you?”

“Yes, it’s so original!” you say, hearing Wanda laugh behind you. “Come on, let’s get some pizza. Or burgers and milkshakes, whatever you want”

“Can we go to Burger Galaxy?" Billy says and you nod.

"Sure, let me check if it's open" you say, pulling out your phone. You frown at the missed calls from Darcy. She's still at the hospital and there's only one reason why she'd call. "Give me a second"

Walking away, you dial her number.

"He's awake"

"How is he...?"

"Just come to the hospital" she insists. Wanda is talking to the boys as you return, her face dropping when you lock eyes.

"We need to go to the hospital"

You take the keys from her shaking hands, smiling as she tries to control her breathing. The ride feels like an eternity, but it's only ten minutes. You're about to head to the ICU, when Darcy sees you.

"Over here"

"How is he...?" you catch up, aware that Wanda and the kids are right behind you.

"Awake and annoying. A bit confused as well, but all things considered, he'll be fine. Congrats, pal. You worked a Christmas miracle"

You stand by the door as Wanda walks past you, speaking in Sokovian and holding her brother's face between her hands. Tommy and Billy stand next to his bed, waiting for a chance to greet their uncle. Between all the fuss, Pietro looks at you, mouthing a thank you.

You can't help the tears from clouding your vision. After taking a breath to calm yourself, you wipe the corner of your eyes and smile at him.

"Welcome back, Frosty"

[kitchenwitchtingss]

50 KITCHEN WITCH TIPS TO MAKE YOU FEEL MORE WITCHY

(And other useful things I've learned over the years)

Hi! This is a list of dos, don'ts, tips, tricks, and other fun things that I've learned over the years. I always love finding more effective and efficient ways of doing things so if you have any cool things you'd like to add, leave them in the comments or reblog. I'd love to read it.

Anyways... On with the list ^_^

Light candles around your kitchen space (just make sure nothing flammable is near you)

Annotate your cookbooks with the correspondence of the ingredients.

Mediating is really good to calm the mind before cooking.

Cut oranges and lemons thinly, dry them, and hang them with twine around your kitchen

Need a cleansing tip? Open all your windows near your kitchen. Let some fresh air in.

Cutting sigils into apples, pie crusts, and carved potatoes.

Save lemon and orange rinds, freeze them, and then use them to clean the garbage disposal.

Make infused oils and honey: Things like garlic honey, lavender honey, herb oil, sun oil, moon oil, dandelion oil, and other different edible oils are very fun and useful to make.

Hid sigils in pages of your cookbooks and kitchen witch journals.

Add some plants! Snake plants and spider plants don't need too much light, and growing your own herbs in your kitchen is awesome too. Basil, lavender, thyme, aloe vera, rosemary, etc. are good fits. You could also add some plants that require more sunlight on the kitchen window sill. Like cacti and succulents.

Bring crystals into your kitchen space such as rose quartz, clear quartz, amethyst, or whatever you want the space's intentions to be.

I keep a small money tree on the sill, along with cacti for luck and protection.

Make a simmer Pot! Mostly because it makes the whole house smell good, easy, and fun.

Stir clockwise for best results!

Learning how to pickle things is actually pretty witchy. Plus, anyone could do it as it requires absolutely no kitchen experience. You could pickle any vegetable, even if you don't like pickles. I originally learned this after having to take shelter from a natural disaster. A person brought a bunch of stuff and taught us how to pickle things with different spices and herbs. Very fun!

Decorate your kitchen with your favorite stuff. Crystals, decor, heat mits, that cool mushroom cake stand you've been eyeing at the World Market for the past 2 weeks, cool looking curtains, sun catchers. Why stop there? Paint the walls, hang shelves full of marked-up cookbooks that are a little too well-loved and thumbed through.

Wanna be the person that has the amazing-smelling house every time people come over? Syrups take some time to simmer down, it's actually a pretty good time to leave it on the stove to simmer. Since syrups have a lot of aromatic ingredients, it acts as a really good-smelling simmer pot.

Hang up herbs to dry with twine from cabinets that are rarely used.

Invest in that new set of plates and cups.

Homemade jams, butter, sauces, and syrups are your best friend.

Crochet or knit your own dish rags, pot holders, etc.

Don't pour extremely hot things into a glass that's not Pyrex, it will break, and you will be very sad about it.

Don't cook anything while extremely upset or emotional (For safety reasons)

Make recipes you want to make, not just because you'll like the effect. Make it because you think it's tasty.

Chinese Five Spice works in place of herbs for protection and luck spells a lot of the time! It's cheaper to buy 1 spice than 4 different spices that total up to 15 dollars when you could just spend 3-4 dollars.

Take a shower before cooking (I don't know how to explain this one other than it makes you feel better)

Don't use microfiber/plastic material clothes on hot burners, it will fuse to the burner and melt. It is VERY hard to get off.

I don't know if I need to put this one but I did see someone do it so nonstick pan = wooden utensils and plastic utensils, metal pan = metal utensils. Do not use a metal spoon in a nonstick pan, please. It can make you very sick.

Keep your pets away from hot oil, open ovens, and hot pans.

You can proof bread dough in the fridge overnight if you don't have the time to bake, or want to eat fresh bread right in the morning.

Need a quick witchy meal for dinner in 12 minutes? Use premade tomato pasta sauce and doctor it up with thyme, rosemary, and garlic, for protection and distilling stagnant energies. Serve with pasta of your liking.

You can substitute Butter for Crisco/shortening, buttermilk for 1 cup of milk + 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar or lemon juice, and heavy cream for 1 cup of half and half plus 2 tbsp of butter.

Use leftover animal bones to make bone broth

Teach yourself the art of bread scoring (It's fun, and you can show it off to your loved ones!)

Collect and hoard your own and others' family recipes.

Sometimes the food doesn't have to be a spell, sometimes it just makes you feel good and you don't know why.

Listen to your favorite music in the kitchen, it makes the monotonous things like chopping veggies move faster.

Invest in a vegetable chopper if you don't like chopping vegetables.

Find a really good hot cocoa recipe and make it once a week. Master it. Just for your own happiness because hot cocoa is really good. You could also be the friend/family member that makes the best hot cocoa ever.

Focaccia Bread Lasts a very long time, and it's very easy to make!

Keep a first aid kit near where the oven is, in case of burns, cuts, or serious injuries where time is everything.

Quick Bread and no-rise loaves are simple for beginners, tasty, and take little time. They also feel very witchy to make.

Study a bit of Herbalism! It's fun and really helps better understand the herbs you're putting into your food.

While something is boiling, put your wooden spoon over the pot to minimize the chance of something boiling over.

Try a bit of coffee magick, it's simple to get into, and gives you a boost of energy to take on the day!

If you're over 21, wine-making is a very interesting way to celebrate the sabbats. Just with that, make sure you KNOW what you're doing. With anything fermented, there's always a risk if you don't store things correctly. Apple wines, strawberry wines, dandelion wines, etc. all very cool to experiment with. If you're not over 21, vinegar is a similar way to experiment.

Hang up some witchy things, sigils, photos, cool magnets, and other things that give you joy on your fridge. (Sometimes if you are lucky they have some fun magnets at five below)

If you live in the US, for some reason, there are a lot of books in the book section dedicated to witchcraft and spirituality. At least where I live. And they are all under 5 dollars!

Teas are the cheapest and easiest things you can practice being a kitchen witch.

[harryshouseenthusiast]

I want to make a list of my favorite writers on here! This will be the author’s whose writing speaks to me the most! To add, just because I didn’t add someone doesn’t mean I don't like them, I will try my best to update this because i haven't used Tumblr as much recently so I'm still finding all the pages. And i want to write something about each author so I'll take time <3

@jawllines - I’ve read her writing for YEARS and subbed to her Patreon, I love all her tropes so much, especially Grumpy Harry! She is definitely and Og for me, I haven't read fanfics as long as I've been a fan, and I've read like the 1D preferences, but my first full out one-shot was the one where Harry and Y/N pick berries as a summer job.

@moonchildstyles - I love all the AU she chooses to write Harry in, I found her a bit more recently 2022, which now writing that looks so long ago but feels recently 😭 I love how she has so many blurbs/checkups too! i am subbed to her patron as well! I love the gentleness of how she writes harry, especially in citrine, he is so soft and i love it

@jarofstyles - Not only do they have mouthwatering smut, but I love how they have a bunch a shorter AU blurbs, sometimes I don't want to read a full one shot, and they have so many blurbs. One writing love in particular is Braking plates, I love some good angst to fluff. I am also subbed to their Patreon

@erodasfishtacos -I absolutely love her work and it's so upsetting how she was treated on this app. I'm glad she was able to move over to patron to continue her passion, I have subbed, and her work is phenomenal. She introduced me to one of my favorite underrated tropes, Deaf!H. I love how she writes her ABO tropes, that's another one of my favorites.

@harrysbabycherry - The first fic I read from her was the one when Y/N was a vampire and the was a kinda unique topic for me because I've always read Fics of Vampire!H, one of my fav tropes, But I loved the switch up. And I've just really e njoyed her following works. I also love the few Halloween writings she did, i love spooky H.

@gurugirl - The first thing I read of hers was the Stepdad!H, and I was hooked her smut is divine, absolutely amazing. I love how she portrays dark harry and forbidden/taboo relationships. I would love to sub to her patron, but unfortunately, I can't fit it into my budget as of now, but I will be subscribing one day. I love how she specifically says no sad endings because i also get too attached and cannot handle it.

@harryforvogue - It's been a bit since I've read her work, so I'm excited to catch up. She is actually the account that got me into reading books with OC. I previously only read reader insert Fics, but her writing was so good, and I noticed that OC writings give me different emotions than Y/N Fics. if that makes sense.

@watermelonlovershigh - I absolutely love how she writes soft Harry. She writes him so gentle and caring. It’s a nice contrast for the mafia stuff I read😭. She was also the first person ive read a sickfic from and I don’t see many of those, so it was different than what I’ve normally read and I loved it! She’s an amazing writer.

As i said i will be adding to this as time goes on! If anyone has someone the want me to check out lmk!

(Sorry for typos)

[porceline]

So, I'm thinking of your fic, and in it we see how the reader reacts when Optimus is turned human. My request is headcanons or a little ficlet/drabble on how OP would react if you (his human S/O) were to interact with a relic that turned them into a Cybertronian.

Turn of events

Pairing:

Optimus Prime × cybertronian!reader

Summary:

After a decommissioned disguise relic ended up in the hands of the Autobots, everyone's favorite reader (you), ended up being transformed into a giant cybertronian.

Word count: 1k+

A/N: HIII GUYSSS I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this out, gosh I got sick AGAIN! and some personal stuff went down, but I'm back and badder than ever!! Enjoy loves!

(Ps. This isn't as detailed as I would've liked but I rushed to get it out cuz I was taking too much time, but might even make it a full fic when I finish my current one!!)

It was an accident, completely an accident. You hadn't meant to. You just wanted to see.

Sliding thin, fleshy fingers between large gaps in buttons and pressure plates while no one was paying attention, with no idea the relic would be so sensitive. Not your proudest moment.

You always knew your curiosity would be your downfall. You're just lucky Bulkhead moved the kids out of the way.

It was the most pain you've ever experienced, it felt like your limbs were getting stretched beyond their limit, your skin pulled hard and slowly, then it felt like it was turned to stone.

No one had any time to react before you became ten times bigger than you were born, your new form falling onto the elevated platform designated for humans.

The concrete was thick enough to hold your weight, but the iron safety bars bent under you.

Everything was tinted blue, and somehow brighter than before. You had to squint your eyes.

Your vision kept blurring, sometimes focusing on one single spot, zooming onto it as if you were wearing Binoculars.

There was a panic around you, commotion and yelling. Everything sounded so far away though. You couldn't focus.

A hand, much larger than yours grasps your shoulder. Another cups your cheek and turns your head.

It's Optimus. He's speaking. His mouth is moving but you hear nothing. You're scared.

"Have you shrunk?" You blurt out, you can feel the rumble of your own voice like never before, it sounded so clear despite not being able to hear.

He raises an eyebrow, his mouth begins to move again, but you still can't hear anything.

Thick brows furrow as blue optics scan over your worried face. Optimus puzzles together what might be wrong, his face softens as he reaches to the side of your head.

You hear three loud clicks, then the sound of the base booms into your ears, making your head throb.

"What happened!?"

"Primus, what did you do!?"

"Why did you touch that?!"

"Are you alright?"

You snap your head towards Optimus, his gentle optics stare deep into your own.

You shake your head.

He hums, sliding a thick arm under your back, helping you sit up. His free hand slides over your legs, turning them to hang over the large concrete block you're sitting on.

By now, Ratchet has made his way over to you, an angry look on his face as both he and Optimus help you stand up.

The rest of the team are watching in silence, mouths agape in awe at the sudden transformation they had just witnessed. Seeing you go from such a tiny being, to being slightly larger than arcee was incredible.

Your feet, well, pedes, finally hit the floor, they felt so much heavier than what you were used to. Like someone glued concrete blocks onto your feet.

The two of them loosen their grip on you, the lack of support nearly makes you topple over, making you blurt out an embarrassing yelp.

Ratchet scoffs in annoyance, while Optimus shakes his head, leaning you back to scoop you into his arms.

"Let's keep you off your pedes for a bit."

You don't argue.

Ratchet leads the way to the medical bay, walking a bit faster than Optimus. You can practically hear the anger in his steps.

"I'm so sorry." You whisper, burying your face in your hands. How could you have been so stupid?

"None of that," Optimus pulls your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up.

"It's not your fault, it was an accident. Ratchet might seem angry, but he really is just worried."

Everyone else has since gone their separate ways, still on edge from, the event earlier.

What a horrible way to start the day.

Optimus settles you down on one of the large metal cots, leaning you back against the wall.

He sits down next to you while Ratchet occupies himself with running tests on you. The scanner in his forearm drowns you in a green light, covering you head-to-toe.

Completing the scan, Ratchet turns back around. His digits tap against the keyboard as he types.

You look up to the monitor above his head, the text scrolls down the vibrant green screen.

But you can read it.

It's incredible, you understand it but you also.. don't? You can read it, but the text is still so foreign to you.

The information on the screen appears to be vitals, and though you can read it, you can't quite understand it.

Optimus holds onto your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. It was a comforting touch.

Ratchet returns to your side, taking an object that looks like a human-ish pistol from the table beside you.

Before you can even breathe, he turns your hand over and shoots your palm. It hurt, but not as much as you had anticipated. It was like getting a flu-shot.

The vial attached to it starts filling with a blue liquid, energon, you presume.

Ratchet doesn't say a word when he pulls the gun away, slotting it into a machine next to your cot.

The awkward silence eats away at your mind, you grip the grey armor plating on your thighs.

"Ratchet.. I didn't mean-"

"Ehp yehp yehp! I don't want to hear any of it."

You sulk your shoulders, hunching your head down as his thick metal digets tap away at the keyboard.

Optimus sighs. "Ratchet..-"

The prime is interrupted by his medic.

"Not you too! I can barely deal with one whining bot, by Primus don't make me deal with two."

Your eyes widen, your hands open in a defensive position.

"I'm not whining!"

He points his thick digit at you. "That, right there, is whining!  Can you please try to be quiet while I figure out how to fix this?!" Ratchet huffs, turning away back to his monitor. Mumbling something about humans being loud.

You glare at the back of his head, sighing in frustration.

This week is going to be hell.

[empress-simps]

Line That Leads To You

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.

Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!

You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.

The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.

Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.

“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.

“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.

“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)

“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.

Complete each other, huh?

Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.

Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.

That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.

Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.

He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.

“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”

“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.

Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.

You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.

“Reggie! Reggie!”

You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.

Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?

You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.

You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.

Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?

The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.

It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.

Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.

“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.

“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.

“What, Moons?”

“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?

“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.

“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.

Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”

Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”

Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”

James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”

“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.

The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.

Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.

Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”

“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”

Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.

“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.

You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.

Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”

And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.

Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.

[thegnomelord]

I REALLY LOVE THE STRAIGHTFOWARD WEREWOLVES SOAP. OMG. Its just really funny in my head, imagine the way soap would act so shameless around the reader, uncaring about the stare he got because thats just how they are! The werewolves race with their no-shit and unfiltered attitude, and oh if they take interest in you, prepare your heart especially if you has a weak one; because surely they'll cling their every waking moment with you, sniffing every spots of you that they can reach. Absurd yet endearing flirtiratios compliments would hurled at you, catching you off guard cause they just come out of nowhere. Baring their fangs at potential rivals, worst case scenario if its their own race, because they can and will get violent, best calmed the werewolves down before anything awful happened. Just a thing between werewolves to prove which one is the stronger and more qualified, whose more worthy of your love, in their point of view.

If you have the time can you make a short fic, it would be the highlight of my life for weeks!!

Okay yes but also because I love needy clingy pathetic Soap too much lol

CW: NSFW, gn reader, grinding, somnophillia, quick and rough.

You've noticed that Soap has started to act. . . strange.

He's started trying to feed you all types of stuff, mostly meat, seeking you out at all times of the day. You'll see him go out to the woods and come back with some large animal, and an hour later he'll be coming to you with a plate of food and a 'Kiss the cook' apron on (every time you have to bite back from drawing attention to the fact the arrows point down to his dick). "Hey, need that wonderful mouth of yer's to try this out." He says, watching with rapt attention as you try his food, taking every critique with a wagging tail.

And if you like his food, oh, there's a giant grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, ye like that?" He comes closer, the plate in your hands forcing distance between you two. "Reckon this cook should get a reward." He's already stepping around to press his chest flush with your back before he can finish his sentence, and you don't have the heart to stop him because the food is mouth watering and he's just scenting you, even if the occasional flick of his tongue against your nape makes you shiver. (You, again, try not to draw attention to a hard bulge grinding into your ass)

That's the other thing. He's gotten really clingy.

He's always been clingy with all the team members, nuzzling his cheek against Gaz, whining like a kicked puppy when pushes him away with a hand on his face, tail wagging as he scents Price. Usually he's satisfied after he's done scenting the lads in your team, happy to continue with his business.

But with you. . .

You can't even sit on the couch for five seconds before his burly body is snuggling up to you, taking his seat in your lap like he owns it, like he's a lap dog. Doesn't even excuse himself before his hands are groping your biceps as he nuzzles your neck. "Aye, yer so hoht," He purrs, full body rubbing against you. "Could use ye fer a blanket on cold nights." You don't know how to feel about that, his words causing your mind to stutter long enough for him to replace the scents lingering on you with his own.

And when someone enters to find you like this, he doesn't even throw them a glance, gripping onto you like a koala and all you can do is mouth a 'help me'. Doesn't work though, as the second he senses someone is getting near he's growling like a monster truck's engine, glaring at the poor sod with his face still stuck in your neck.

Or, if you're busy with something, he'll saddle up to you, ears perked up. "Oi, bonnie, hold som'ting fer me." He'll whine, tugging on your arm until you sigh.

"Fine, just give it here." You growl, holding out your arm, still concentrated on what you're doing.

Next thing you know you're cupping his jaw, his head resting on your hand. "Anyone ever tell ye, yer got perfect hands te grope with?" Johnny grins at you, that one snaggletooth fang pinching his lip, using your confusion to rub the scent glands in his cheeks against your palm, making sure you smell like him.

You shake out of your stupor and pull your hand back, resisting giving in when he gives you such a heartbroken whine. "No, Johnny." You growl and shoo him away, but he still manages to brush his tail against your leg.

You make the mistake to fall asleep on the communal couch after a grueling day of training recruits. When Johnny finds you, his nose immediately trying to get a whiff of your scent, he growls when he can barely get traces of it beneath the smell of dirt and sweat and way too many people when the only scent you should have on you is his. His inner wolf growls along with him, his ears pricking up straight, staring at your sleeping form.

He's more than happy to rectify your mistake.

He lays on top of you, purring happily to himself when you don't even shift. "Good mate," He hums to himself, wrapping around you like a blanket, face buried in your neck once again. His hands slide beneath your shirt, making him pant into your skin from the sensation of your muscles beneath his hands. He moves his body slowly, seeking to have as much skin contact as he can, mouth watering and angel bells ringing in his skull at how he can taste his scent replacing everyone else's on your skin.

He doesn't notice when he starts to nibble on your neck, but it's the sensible next move, what better way to keep competition away than let everyone know you're taken? Johnny's marks bloom across your throat as he sucks hickeys into your skin, his wolf and himself standing on common ground to make sure you're covered in his marks.

He pulls back his head to look at his work and groans, cock immediately hardening in his pants from you covered in his marks. His hips gain a life of their own, thighs gripping your own as he grinds down, already half drunk on your scent.

You wake up to find his hot breath fanning over your face, the sensation of something hard grinding against your leg dissipating any residual drowsiness. "Johnny, what the fuck?" You ask, voice rough from sleep, only now registering his weight on top of you.

"'m sorry bonnie," Johnny whines, burying his face into your neck to muffle his whining. "Just- hah- needed ye."

You grumble, but you can't hide the way heat burns through your veins at the sight of him, his face flushed, claws gripping you like you'll disappear, desperately humping against your leg.

"I can see that." You say, tensing your thigh to give aid him in his grinding, your eyes growing wide at the loud moan that escapes him, like he's a whore on camera.

"Oh, shite, thank ye, thank ye, thank ye-" He whines, his humping growing faster, butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the way you hadn't pushed him away, that you're accepting his advances, muttering 'mate' under his breath as he chases after his orgasm.

He cums before either one of you knows it, a dark stain forming in his pants as he bites down and groans into your neck. You grunt, but Soap's quick to release your skin and lap at the aching spots with his tongue, soothing the pain.

"'m sorry bonnie." He mumbles, cock still hard in his pants, his wolfish eyes settling on you. Shame nibbles on his stomach for cumming so fast when he can't smell a lot of arousal on you, his wolf growling at him to show you how good he can be.

You jump when his hand slides down to grip your crotch roughly, his pupils dilating at the way a small moan slips past your lips. "Lemme make it up fer ye yeah?"

[rezwrites]

Hi! Love your writing!!

I have a suggestion/request:

So, reader is a lesbian married to someone their own age, but Dark Agatha wants reader to herself, and knows there are things only she can make them feel.

Mommy/dom/corrupting and stuff

Thanksss

I’m glad you enjoy the works!

Warnings: +18 MDNI, dub-con, infidelity/cheating, corruption, cursing, strap-on, deepthroating, rough sex

Setting the dirty clothes basket on top of the dryer tossing each article of clothing into the washing machine, you came across one of your wife’s collared shirts with plum wine lipstick stain on the collar, a pair of pink lace underwear balled up inside the shirt. This couldn’t be happening, you didn’t think your marriage was bad for your wife to cheat. Tears started forming in your eyes, heart sinking to your stomach.

“Baby! I’m home!” your wife’s cheery voice called from the front door. Stepping out of the laundry room you see her placing the grocery bags on the table, her dirty blonde hair released from her braid framing her face. The giant smile on her face immediately dropping when she sees your tears, rushing to you.

“Abby.” chewing your bottom lip, showing her the articles of clothing, “please be honest with me.”

“Baby,” her blue eyes widening like saucers, mouth open, “I swear on my life I don’t know where those came from. The lipstick stain is just as much a mystery.”

“Abs, I have no reason to doubt you but this; I can’t wrap my head around this.” Pulling a chair from the table, you took a seat putting your head in your hands. Abby followed suit pulling a chair next to you.

“I’m at work all day and when i’m not there I’m here with you.” She pulled your hands away from your face, holding them, “I haven’t been with anybody else, I swear.”

The rest of the night was full of silence, you’re still coming up with illogical scenarios outside cheating to figure out where the stain and panties came from, none of them obviously not making sense. Abby knows not to disturb you when you’re too deep in thought, though some part of you wished she did so you could stop spiraling internally. That night you both slept with your back towards each other. It hurt to not hold each other.

Waking up early unable to go back to sleep you decided go into work. Quitely getting dressed you headed down stairs. Making a simple breakfast, you set an extra plate of eggs and toast beside for Abby when she woke up.

“You can’t leave without hugging me first.” Abby’s tired voice startled you, her eyes red. You didn’t even hear her come down the stairs. She stood at the bottom of the stairs holding her arms outstretched, a deep frown etched into her features. Abby’s warm, strong arms wrapped around you, the woody scent of her cologne still lingering on her shirt. She kissed your forehead repeating sorries. You leaned up shutting her up with a kiss, whispering I love you against her lips before heading out. You texted her about her breakfast on the counter before driving to work.

—

Working away on this quarterly report the CEO’s assistant dialed your line informing that the would like to see you in her office, stressing you to hurry. Walking to the elevators, your nervousness elevated with each passing floor. You’ve only seen Ms. Harkness a handful of times when you sat in on a board meeting, and at holiday parties for the company, each fleeting conversation you’ve had with her had been pleasant. The doors opened on the top floor, the hard silver floor echoing with every step you took. The receptionist directed you to the office, pointing towards the imposing double doors at the end of the corridor.

Knocking on the black granite door, you heard a muffled come in. Entering the CEO's office, your eyes were immediately drawn to the breathtaking view of the city skyline through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was filled with the soft, warm glow of natural sunlight. The room exuded an air of authority and sophistication, making you feel both privileged and slightly intimidated.

Ms. Harkness gestured for you to sit in the plush, leather armchair. The coolness of the smooth, polished surface of the mahogany desk sent a shiver down your spine. Sharp and straight-to-the-point Ms Harkness pointedly asked, “You’ve worked as the assistant CFO for how long now?”

“Three years next month, Ma’am.” you responded, subconsciously cracking your knuckles to ease your anxiousness.

“And in that short time your reports have excelled our company. Your clear, concise statements show us where we need to improve and decrease our operations. Now, I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging but I made a great decision hiring you. In my professional opinion you’d do better as CFO than an assistant.” Her voice grew proud as she praised you. A grin on her face, as she sat up straightening out her bronze blazer.

Your body warmed at the praise she dished out, lightly squirming underneath her bold gaze, “That’s a huge responsibility, Ms.Harkness, but I thank you for the kind words, and I’m very grateful for the opportunity to gain so much experience and knowledge in such a short time.”

She laughed at your formality, “Please just call me Agatha, dear. I apologize if I frightened you with the sudden call here. I actually wanted to commended you on your wonderful work, and take you out to lunch to get to know you better.”

—

The elegant restaurant had dimly lit chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, casting a low, golden glow over the room. Soft classical music played in the background, creating a soothing ambiance. The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling steaks and freshly baked bread. Feeling severely underdressed in your simple above-the-knee dress you attempted to cover yourself as you awaited a table.

“No need to fret,” Agatha guided you in front of her to follow the hostess, leaning down as you passed her, whispering in your ear, “you look exquisite.”

Sitting down on the smooth, velvet booth the soft fabric brushing the back of your knees and shoulders. The hostess hands you the menus notifying you that your waitress will be with you shortly, “Velvet upholstery? That’s in interesting choice. It must take a lot to clean if wine is spilled.”

“I think they keep up maintenance every night.” She responded, eyes locked onto the menu.

The waitress comes to your table asking for drinks. Agatha requested, “Two glasses of Sauvignon Blanc, please. Our order will be ready in a few minutes.”

“Wine in the middle of the day?” You chuckled nervously.

“Why not? I’m letting you go home early anyway.” She caught your eyes bulging as you lowered the menu, “Only if you wish to. I know you came in early. I’m sure you’ve been working diligently all morning, you deserve it.”

The waitress comes back with two glasses. Agatha pours you both a glass, toasting each other to a nice lunch. Taking sip you note acidity mixed with gooseberry and white peach. There’s so many options on the menu, they overwhelmed you, way out of your comfort zone.

“This wine pairs well with light seafood or chicken.” Agatha chimed-in, eyes focusing back on the menu, “Have you decided yet or do you need another minute?

“I decided to play it safe with the Chicken Alfredo.” you folded the menu handing it to Agatha, relieved that they had your safe food.

When the waitress returned Agatha had ordered for both of you, getting herself Halibut Ceviche. Agatha reminds you of Abby this way, a woman who knows what she wants and takes charge. You would actually love to surprise Abby on a date here one night, it would be a nice gift after she’d dealt with her rambunctious students all day.

“Dear? What’s with that frown?” Her eyebrows furrowed. You hadn’t noticed you were frowning reaching for the stem of your wine glass.

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” you dismissed. You hadn’t noticed you were frowning reaching for the stem of your wine glass.

“Come on.” She places her hand over yours offer you a reassuring smile, “It’s okay to tell me.” Agatha makes it easy to talk to her outside of work, seeping such a comforting air.

“I think my wife is or was cheating.” You stared at your wine, unable to look her in the eyes.

“Well, what happened?” She folded her fingers resting her chin on them, azure eyes watching your every move.

“There was a lipstick stain on the collar of her shirt.” You opted to leave out the panties out of embarrassment.

“It wasn’t yours?” She pried, taking another sip wine.

“No, I don’t particularly like dark lipstick colors. And I’d think I’d remember staining my wife’s collar.” You realized the bite in your tone, “sorry.”

“Hmm,” she squinted her eyes at you, you could see her thinking, “While I honestly can’t give you any advice besides trying to talk it out with her. I can tell you that whatever you need I’ll help you however I can.” She squeezed your hand, the food arriving at your table.

She turned to conversation to more pleasant topics. Agatha told you stories about her early college days. Once she got mad at one of her professors for contradicting herself too many times during a lesson. Agatha had given her the finger, written fuck you on the board and left, never taking the class for the rest of the semester. Both of your sides hurting from laughing to hard, “I ended up taking the class again in my last year. Under a different professor, of course.”

You felt bad having Agatha pay the bill even though she offered, so you covered the tip. Returning to the office everyone stared at you as Agatha escorted you to your office. Exchanging personal numbers, Agatha expressed again that she would be available to you day and night.

—

“You’re home late.” Noting as Abby walked through the door hanging her laptop bag on the hook.

“I’m sorry, baby. We had a curriculum meeting that ran late.” She came up behind you hands on your waist. Peppering kisses on your neck, peering over your shoulder watching you scoop the meat into the bell peppers, “Dinner smells delicious.”

“It’s turkey-quinoa stuffed bell peppers, it just needs to go in the oven for twenty minutes.” You moved to place the pan in the oven, afterwards turning towards her pecking her on the cheek, “Why don’t you go get cleaned up for dinner.”

You giggle as Abby raves about dinner while telling you about finger painting with her kids at work and how she almost fell asleep in the meeting. After dinner she cleans the kitchen as you set up a movie marathon for you both to wind down from the day. Abby sits beside you bringing you closer to her warm body. Although there’s still a sliver of doubt in the back of your mind, you were content snuggling, watching movies together.

After a while Abby got up to use to the restroom, leaving her phone by you. It lights up repeatedly, you really didn’t want to look, wanting to trust your wife, but the hearts in the messages caught your attention from the corner of your eye.

「I miss you babe. I had a great time today😘

I can’t wait to see you again❤️❤️❤️

I got that thing for us to try😉 」

“What the fuck!” Shouting, you grabbed her phone.

“What’s wro-” Abby came back down the hallway only for her phone to collided with her chest, startling her. Desperately, she reached out grabbing it, jaw dropping at the screen. You’re fuming, face contorting with such an intensity she’d never seen before.

“No bullshit, Abigail! Explain that!” Glaring at her, tears blurring your vision.

“I don’t know that number! She balled and unballed her fist, visibly trying to keep her tears at bay, “I swear, I would never cheat on you.” You both went back and forth. An argument turned screaming match, loud enough to shake the pictures on the wall.

Stopping yourself mid sentence, you dropped your shoulders, staring at her, “I can’t stay here tonight.” Rushing out of the house, you ignored her pleas.

Pulling into a gas station you sit and collect your thoughts, feebly attempting to hold yourself together as your phone rings, “Ms. Harkness, would it be possible if I stayed with you tonight?”

“Of course, dear, not a problem at all.” Her honeyed voice acted as a light in the dark, “I’m sending you the address now.”

—

Agatha was already waiting outside when you pulled in the driveway. The faint scent of fresh flowers wafts through the house, adding a touch of nature. As you sink into the luxurious leather sofa, you feel the softness enveloping you, providing utmost comfort.

“I love her. I thought she loved me, I just can’t believe that she’d do this.” Breaking down into sobs Agatha cradled you in her arms, not saying a word, rubbing your back letting you get it all out. Once your sobs subsided into sniffles Agatha titled your chin up, her warm lips falling on yours. Face twisting in shock, you pushed her away, “We can’t-”

“Don’t.” A tight grip on your jaw kept you from getting too far away, ”I know you need this.” She pulled you in for another kiss, this time rougher and more disorienting. Wrong, this was so wrong. Not only are you dealing with a fallout with your wife but she’s your boss.

Agatha slipped her tongue past your lips moving slow, enjoying the feeling of your mouth, occasionally coming back to lick your tongue. You hated to admit that you did need this. Months without sex left you pent up, something coming up each time you two try. You couldn’t even recall the last time your wife kissed you with such wanton desire.

“Come back to me, doll.” Smiling when your eyes focused back her, she couldn’t wait to ravage you. Picking you up she wrapped your thighs around her waist, walking to her bedroom.

Depositing you onto her plush queen-sized bed, draped in smooth satin sheets that shimmer in the soft light. The satin sheets cool and silky against your hot skin. She walked over to the adjoining bathroom ordering over shoulder, “I want your clothes off by the time I’m back.”

You know you shouldn’t but the ache in between your legs was too much. Not enough to keep you here, this has gone far enough already. Shaking your head you started to move off the bed to leave.

“I gave you an order, little girl.” Agatha stood at the edge of the bed naked, and arms crossed. You paled at the strap hanging from her jutting hips. She lowered her voice, leaning forward on the bed, “Take your clothes off.”

“Now!” She raised her voice at your hesitation, gaze hardening. Not wanting to anger her further, you quickly stripped. She stood back up tapping her hip, “Come get it wet.”

With a hitch in your breath you crawled over to her. Getting closer you noticed the purple undertone of her cock in the light. Dragging your tongue across the head of the strap you could see her stomach tensing. She grabbed a fistful of your hair, shoving her cock deeper, “You look beautiful with my cock in your mouth.”

You choked, the tip of her cock hitting the back of your throat. She pulled back before throughly fucking your throat, your nose touching her harness. Unable to look up at her shame and arousal growing in your core, as your head bobbed up and down over her shaft. Gripping at her thighs to hold yourself steady, tears began to brim your eyes.

“Look at you.” Agatha heaved, pulling you off of her, smearing your spit on your face, “my messy girl.” She pushed you down on your back, hovering over you, her hand falling over your cunt, “I don’t think I needed you to suck me off, your cunt is dripping.”

“Does she tell you how sexy you are?” Pressing chaste kisses to your neck and chest as she slipped herself inside your cunt. Mewling, arching your back as her cock sunk deeper into your depths, your eyes rolling back.

“Not lately.” you sighed.

“Not lately.” she scoffed, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I’d be sure to tell you every damn day.” She accentuates each word with a thrust. She picked up her pace, fully bottoming out.

Whining as her thumb drew over your clit, it hit you embarrassingly quick how close you were. Agatha suddenly pulled out, and flipped you on all fours. Nudging you further up the bed she pulled your hips towards hers.

Pushing herself back inside, her hand snaked under your chest holding your jaw again. Sweat mingling with hers as she laid her body on top of yours, her hips pistoning into yours. Agatha’s husky voice reached your ears, “Can she make you feel like this? Give you this deep pleasure?”

“I bet she’s so afraid of getting a strap or toys.” she chuckled, dropping her tone again, “I want you to think of your sweet wife and tell yourself the truth. That she only satisfies the surface, not the deep primal need you have to get fucked ruthlessly like an animal.”

Moaning as she dug her nails into your hips, driving her cock deep and fast into depths. Your arms felt like jelly, giving out you fell to your chest. Biting your bottom lip you tried to keep your tears from forming.

Agatha’s thrusts slowed down to a halt, lazily rubbing your clit. The grip on your jaw tightened, possibly leaving bruises. Agatha growled out, “Tell yourself, doll.”

Fisting the sheets, your salty tears fell on your lips, crying out, “No! She can’t make me feel this good!”

She grunted pushing herself closer against you, returning to her previous speed. Fucking you breathless, each touch of hers set your body alight. You sobbed as your body shook underneath her, cunt clenching around her cock. Agatha fucked you mercilessly through your orgasm, sucking harshly at the crook of your neck, working herself through her own orgasm.

Pride swelled in Agatha’s chest as she watched your body collapse on the bed, your pussy glistening. Slipping away to toss the strap into the bathroom sink, she returned to find you curled in on yourself, the sheets halfway covering your body. Laying behind you she reached for her phone on the nightstand, the newest message read:

「 I don’t know who you are but you may have just ruined my marriage!! 」

Putting her phone back down she smiled to herself, she definitely knows she destroyed your marriage. Your cries dissolved into sniffles as Agatha traced patterns along your spine. She knows there’s many emotions going through you in your post-orgasm clarity.

Maybe-no you had acted rash. Your chest tightened at the thought of how you’re going to confront your wife after this. Sobs bubbled up in your chest again, full of regret, shame, and guilt. Sitting up to grab your clothes, lithe fingers wrapped around your bicep, pulling you back down. Agatha covered your body with hers, settling her smooth thigh against your sticky cunt.

A devilish smile on her face, “We’re both taking off work tomorrow.”

[levisjinchuriki]

Hellooo!! I would like to request about angst to comfort stuff about Toji forgetting about your monthsary/anniversary since he's too busy w his work :))) Thank you and tyt! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

warning: angst, cursing, crying, toji begging for another chance, kisses, comfort

the silence in the house is deafening as you sit at the dinner table, the flame of the candle you lit flickering weakly in front of you, mocking you. the meal you lovingly prepared for your anniversary sits cold and untouched. toji hasn’t even called. not a text, not a single word to let you know his whereabouts.

you’d been excited for this night for weeks, anticipating the look on his face when he walked through the door, seeing the effort you put into looking nice and showering him with love and appreciation. you even got his favorite wine to pair with the meal. but here you are, staring at the empty chair across from you.

your gaze shifts to your phone for the dozenth time, hoping for a message, anything that can explain his absence. you’ve already called three times, only to be met with his voicemail.

you had done everything right. everything. and he had just… forgotten. the ache in your chest deepens, spreading like a bruise. frustration and disappointment eat away at you as tears start well up in your eyes and you can’t hold them back any longer. a sob escapes your lips before you can stop it.

you abruptly stand from the table, harshly scraping the chair against the floor. you don’t even bother to clean up as you make your way upstairs– mind overwhelmed with anger, hurt, and betrayal.

you slam the door shut behind you as you reach your bedroom. your hands desperately tug at the fabric of the dress you’d worn for him—once chosen with such care, now suffocating you, clinging to your skin like a cruel reminder of what tonight was supposed to be.

you feel so vulnerable, the reality of it all settling in. your reflection stares back at you in the mirror, distorted through your tears. cheeks flushed, eyes puffy and red from crying, you don’t even recognize the person staring back. you feel stupid.

tonight was embarrassing—waiting, hoping, for someone who couldn’t even be bothered to remember what today meant. your chest tightens, and another sob racks your body. you press your hands to your face, trying to smother the sound, but it’s no use, the tears keep coming. you feel small, forgotten, and utterly alone.

it’s painfully clear now—you’re nothing more than an afterthought to him.

grabbing an oversized sweatshirt, you tug it over your head, the fabric feeling too large, too loose around your frame, as if it’s trying to swallow you whole. you climb into bed, but it offers no comfort. your sobs are muffled as you pull the covers over your head, hoping they’ll shield you from the hurt toji’s already caused.

the tears soak the pillow beneath you as you curl into a tight ball, your body trembling with the weight of the heartbreak. you’re alone on your anniversary—alone, even with the man you thought you’d share this moment with—and nothing can change that. no apology, no explanation. 

eventually, exhaustion wears you down. the sobs become quieter, slower, and with every shaky breath, you feel yourself slipping into sleep.

—

toji’s broad shoulders slump as he enters your home. he drops his bag by the door, eyes scanning the house, searching for you. usually, you’d wait up for him, always claiming you couldn’t sleep unless you were cuddled next to him. but tonight, the living room is dark and eerily quiet. something’s off, he can feel it.

"baby?" he calls out, his voice soft but full with concern as he steps further into the house. he pauses for a moment, listening for any sign of you. 

his gaze drifts to the dining room table, and his steps falter. his heart sinks, his jaw sets tightly as realization crashes down on him.

it’s your anniversary.

the table is set—a full plate, a glass of wine untouched, and the candles that should have been lit now burned out. it’s all still there, just as you had arranged, waiting for a celebration that never came. the dinner you had mentioned so many times, the one you’d reminded him of with that soft, hopeful voice, is now nothing but a cruel reminder of his neglect.

it had slipped his mind completely. he doesn’t even remember the last time he thought about it. but now, standing in the quiet house, with everything painfully clear, he knows—he messed up.

“shit” toji mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair. he glances around, searching for any sign of you. he wants to turn back time, to be anywhere but here in this moment, knowing he’s let you down.

toji moves through the house quietly, his usual confidence nowhere to be found, replaced by a crushing sense of guilt. his heart beats heavier each time his mind thinks about the look on your face when you realized he wasn’t coming home.

"babe?" he calls softly, his voice almost unrecognizable. he climbs the stairs, each step feeling like it takes him further away from any chance of making this right. reaching your bedroom door, he stops to listen. all he hears is the faint sound of his own breath, shallow and tense. he tries the knob, but it doesn’t turn. 

toji’s hand lingers on the door for a moment as rests his forehead against it. he can almost feel you on the other side, curled up, hurt and angry. he hates himself. hates that work came first again. hates that he was too wrapped up in everything else to remember what truly mattered– you. you were the one thing that should’ve mattered most, and he let you down.

he knows he can’t fix it tonight, not when you're locked away in pain, unable to face him. he’ll make it right. he’ll beg if he has to. whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to him, he’ll do it. but tonight, all he can do is wait.

–

the house is unbearably quiet. the air between you and toji has been thick with unspoken words, a silence that seems to stretch on endlessly. he can feel it—your anger, the way you refuse to look at him, to speak to him. it stings more than anything else he’s experienced. even when you yelled, at least there was something, some sign that you cared, that there was still some fight left between you. but now it feels like you’re shutting him out completely.

he doesn’t know how to break through this wall you’d built between you two. every attempt he’s made to speak to you is met with nothing but the cold silence of your indifference. it’s worse than any argument. at least when you screamed, he could feel your emotions, feel the intensity of your hurt. but now it feels like you’re a million miles away. 

he’s been waiting for days, hoping, praying that you’ll say something—anything—that would break this silence. but you haven’t. and every moment that passes without a sign from you makes him feel worse. he can’t stand it. 

“look at me, please” his voice is filled with a desperation he can’t hide.

you don’t respond. you don’t even flinch.

he feels his heart tighten in his chest, the coldness in the room making it harder to breathe. “i know i fucked up” he continues. “i know i hurt you. and i don’t deserve your forgiveness. but i can’t stand this silence. i can’t stand seeing you like this. please... tell me what i can do to fix it. just… just talk to me. yell at me, if you want. but don’t shut me out like this”. the words feel like they’re tearing at his throat, but he pushes through. his guilt and the emptiness of your silence is suffocating him, and he can’t breathe until you acknowledge him.

“i’ll take whatever you give me” he whispered, his voice trembling now. “i just need you to see me. to feel like i’m still here”. 

for the first time in days you look at him. he’s more emotional than you’ve ever seen him before. and the sight should tug at you, but it doesn’t. 

"i didn't mean to hurt you. i let work get in the way, and that’s on me. but i don't want you to think i don't care. i do. i care about you more than i know how to say”. the raw honesty in toji's voice makes your throat tighten, but you stay strong. the memories of the other night—waiting, hoping, and eventually breaking—are still fresh and painful.

“you didn’t mean to hurt me?” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “do you have any idea how it felt, sitting there for hours, waiting for you to come home?”. you could see the regret etched into every line of his face. you finally break, letting yourself cry. “i felt so stupid sitting there by myself.” he shakes his head, crouching in front of you. 

“you’re not stupid” he says firmly. “you’re amazing, and i don’t deserve you". he crouches down to your level, placing a hand on your knee and squeezing it.

you sniffle. “i don’t want just words, toji. i need to see that i matter to you, that we matter. because right now, i feel like i’m the only one trying".

he nods, understanding where you're coming from. “i don’t blame you for feeling that way, he admits, his tone low and raw. “and i hate myself for making you feel like this. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and i’ve been too stupid to show it. but i’m done making excuses. i’ll do whatever it takes to fix this”. toji takes your hand in his, his grip firm as he gently presses his lips to the back of it.

"i'm sorry". he isn’t brushing off your feelings or downplaying what he’s done. he’s owning up to his mistakes in a way you haven't seen before, and something in the raw sincerity of it hits you harder than you expect.

you sigh, your shoulders sagging slightly. "toji, if you mess up again…” you start softly.

“i won’t” he interrupts quickly. “i won’t. i promise you”. you study his face, searching for any sign of insincerity. the man who is always so confident and sure of himself—is now so vulnerable, and it makes your heart ache a little.

“i’m still mad at you” you say weakly.

toji’s eyes soften, but he doesn’t look away. “i know” he says quietly, his voice low and steady. “you have every right to be. i’d be mad too if i were you”. he presses his lips to your arm, and you feel the warmth of his kiss trail upward, over your chest, shoulder, neck, and cheek. it’s not rushed, not frantic, but slow, like he’s trying to make up for the time he’s lost. you can see that he means it, but that doesn’t mean you’re ready to fully open yourself up to him again

“don’t let it happen again, toji. i mean it”. he rests his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin as you both look into each other’s eyes. 

“never” he promises.

--

a/n: thank you for requesting!! i really enjoyed writing this for you <3 please feel free to send more to my inbox!!