#the boys fan fiction

[strangepoppy]

We see glimpses of humanity in homelander and it's the actually terrifying part

If I Can't Have You | Homelander

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» Summary | She was the most aggravating being he had ever been around, and Homelander has dealt with a lot of irritation in his life. But how could someone be so annoying yet he couldn’t even get her off his mind?

❥ Pairing | Homelander x Reader

★ Word Count | 9.4k

» Warnings | slight degrading, negging, pinches of dacryphilia, possessive, manipulation, jealousy, slight fluff, idk what this is honestly. Homelander is not a "good guy", ya know?, Homelander POV

↳ AN | This has been a WIP for a long time. I started writing this a few months ago right after I watched season 1 so this does not follow any sort of storyline or season. It's just it's own thing.

*This has only glancingly been proofread so apologies for any errors!* Enjoy!

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He watched her day after day since the moment she walked into the hallowed halls of Vought. Her hair pinned in a bun, perfectly neat without a strand out of place. Her pencil skirt always pressed and proper - and never above her knees. She scurried past people with eyes casted down as she hurried room to room with coffees in hand. And when she was asked for anything unplanned she lit up with an excitement and vitality not yet corrupted by the corporate world. 

She was new.

She was innocent. 

She was annoying. 

The very moment Ashley walked in with yet another intern Homelander’s eyes had already rolled halfway into his brain. Just another person to be cycled through the system under the guise of work experience and a hopeful job offer, only to end in a mental breakdown followed by complete disappearance to the industry. The time, the training, the niceties. It was a hassle, it was tiresome. Homelander had better things to do than play nice with the help. 

She introduced herself to The Seven - a sickeningly sweet tone dripping from behind her bright smile and full lips. She twiddled her fingers as she spoke, her thumb providing a physical comfort by rubbing the back of her hand raw. She gave the same bullshit spiel that every single one before her gave.

“I’m so excited to work with you.”

“You have always been such an inspiration to me.”

“I am always around, don’t be afraid to ask for anything.”

Homelander snorted. As if he could face the shit he had to on a daily basis but be afraid to ask some girl to pick up his dry cleaning. Her head whipped over to him, her doe eyes widening ever so slightly. She was nervous to begin with, he could hear her pulse from across the room. The possibility of starting with a bad impression was enough for her blood pressure to skyrocket as her complexion flushed. 

But Homelander was nothing if he didn’t know how to charm. 

“We’re only able to do what we do thanks to folks like you,” He forced out, accompanied with the rehearsed smile he knew dearly. “Welcome aboard.”

She gleamed at that. 

She’d lasted longer than the rest. Almost 2 months later and she still entered a room with that exuberant smile as she trailed behind like a shadow. She and Starlight became fast friends it seemed. Made sense. They both were the epitome of irritating naivety. However their friendship meant her presence became more and more frequent around The Seven. Not only to do what she was hired for but occasionally entering the meeting room just to talk. And she could talk forever, droning on and on. Laughing her pitiful little giggle at every single thing. 

Homelander could feel as his dull headache began the longer she stood around. Not to mention the nauseating smell of the sickly sweet perfume she wore every day that permeated the room for hours after so much as just walking by the open door. Sometimes he would still be able to smell it around him during the dead of night when he was alone. He couldn’t escape her even in his sleep, her sparkling eyes haunted his dreams. Baring into his soul like a siren. They were more like nightmares truly. 

Her eyes flicked over to him as a muffled groan sounded behind his gloved hand as it swept over his statuesque face. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He snapped, breaking his composure. “This is called a meeting room, I’d like to actually get the meeting over with.”

The girl stuttered for a moment attempting to grasp at any of the words that came to her mind. It wasn’t the first time the man had shown a side other than endearing patriotic hero seen on television but it truly was not something she had fully come to terms with. His shift in tone, the scorn behind his normally gallant eyes seemed out of place. 

The girl ducked her head, “Y-yes sir, I’m so sorry. Please let me know if there’s anything I can get for you.”

She didn’t understand why the Supe had developed such a distaste for her, but it became more and more obvious as time went on. At the start he was every bit the man she had truly admired, it was hard to hold back the admittance that he was always her favorite of The Seven. He spoke with clarity and assured authority. He was magnificent to see in action and with a smile and wink he was truly every bit America’s sweetheart. 

The facade seemed to slip away somewhere along the line, she couldn’t even be sure of when. It started with a simple cold shoulder - that one she could understand. She was just a lowly intern in the presence of universal marvels. The indifferent snub eventually became direct disdain. He would roll his eyes plainly when she approached him or walked away from her when she attempted to offer any service. And her obvious attempts to stay in his good graces only made him grit his teeth harder. 

But she always tried, surely he couldn’t just hate her. 

The nail in the coffin came only a few weeks later.

Press and PR was on the list of things Homelander hated the most. When things were too quiet in the city and there wasn’t pests to discard or bombs to defuse to make Vought look good, press was the way to keep in the people talking. Whether that was TED talks, morning radio, or the classic late night talk show- it all kept the news cycle turning.

Homelander could only be so lucky to do any one of those, but the universe seemed set on welcoming him into his own personalized circle of hell. In the effort to be more ‘accessible’ and ‘relatable’, Vought had set up rounds of internet influencers to have their chance at a one on one with America’s greatest hero.

Because nothing could be as meaningful as a Buzzfeed article or a Snapchat story. Or God forbid…a Tik Tok. 

And just to put the cherry on top of his day - his favorite intern was his sole wrangler for the whole ordeal. It was already expected by him to hear her accelerated heartbeat every time she popped into a room, but as she stood in the back behind the lights and cameras her hummingbird heartbeat was louder than any micro-celebrity that believed yelling equated to humor. Being her first time flying solo it was truly a test of her competence, no doubt a trial run before she would be considered for a more permanent position.

Great. 

She fiddled with the belt that hung off her jeans loud enough that Homelander could hear it as he spoke to the person across from him, his eyes twitching every time the metal prong clinked against the bar. He was glad that she didn’t wear the item of clothing all the time, her nervous habits would send him off the deep end if he had to hear it every day. Not to mention the way her tight jeans clung to her body, accentuating curves that she never let anyone know she possessed. 

Casual Friday. She never took part in it before - that day even allowing her hair to hang loose from the expected updo - she seemed to be getting more comfortable with her environment in recent days despite the deep breaths and the fidgets. But why did she have to pick that day of all days to suddenly switch up? Everything about her was disruptive. Homelander could hardly remember the questions being asked as she twirled her hair around her painted finger. Her eyes bore into him as he spoke, nodding along with whatever words spouted out of his mouth. As if it actually meant anything. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was saying aside from the various buzz words that were ingrained into his vocabulary.

 She brought a paper coffee cup up to her plush lips as she watched on. The same cup she had for the better half of the morning - lipstick stains building up along the lid. She almost never wore makeup but had conveniently opted for a look that was hard to look away from, highlighting her features in a way that was almost striking. Did she think she was getting on camera herself? Because she certainly seemed to be seeking attention. 

It was working and on more than just him. Homelander watched as she smiled against the cup as the interviewer cracked a few humiliating excuses for jokes. How could she find something so embarrassing be that amusing? It was almost degrading. Her eyes roamed over the interviewer speaking, a slight twinkle in them as something he said made her laugh audibly. The man looked over his shoulder at her with a smile as she held her hand over her mouth to stop the laughter. 

“I’m so sorry,” She giggled out, “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no!” The man interrupted her, his sly smile deepening, “I appreciate validation from pretty girls.”

A flush trailed up her neck as the man winked at her. Homelander cringed at the interaction unfolding before him. That’s what got a reaction out of her? The most cliche line ever formulated by a man? The words were fake and contrived, Homelander would know. Pretty girl? Now, he was no man of great manners, but he played one on TV. Even as a pick up line it was poor. The man could’ve tried harder. Beautiful, stunning, devastating woman. Something with more power, more intention.

Not that she was. But still.

“With that, I think that’s all I’ve got.” The interviewer stood up and held his hand out to shake with the Supe. “Thank you for your time and for everything you do for the country.” 

Homelander’s jaw ticked in irritation. That’s it? He didn’t even get to have a final word, he was almost positive he didn’t even get to plug the bullshit he was supposed to. All because this kid got distracted by some girl? She didn’t even have to be in the room, she would’ve been just as useful outside the room where she couldn’t bother anyone. 

Whatever, the interview was a waste of time to begin with. It was a mystery how this guy was even allowed to do media with how dull he was. No wonder he was kept online, no way he would handle the big leagues. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Homelander responded, flipping a switch to his signature heroic smile. But he made no motion to shake hands, instead stooping down to grab the half empty water bottle at his feet and turning to the attention of the makeup artist on standby to touch him up before the next lowlife walked through the door. 

The man laughed awkwardly before dropping his hand and heading for the door without another word to the Supe. Homelander leaned back, shutting his eyes and letting out a deep sigh of agitation leave his body. He still had half the day to get through, hopefully with less eventfulness between. As he breathed back in the girl’s sweet perfume filled his lungs, recharging any anger that had left. It was like every part of her was handcrafted to permeate and irritate him. He needed to calm down if he was going to continue the rest of the day. There was only so much even he could take. 

A whimsical giggle rang through the room causing Homelander’s eyes to snap back open in a flash. He sat forward slightly, the soft brush of setting powder following him as he moved to see what could’ve possibly been happening now. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness behind the lights his eyes focused on the sad excuse of a man that should’ve been halfway out of the building by now. Instead he stood leaned against the wall next to the intern, his eyes wandering her up and down as he spoke in whispered tones. 

Homelander watched her smile up at the man, her lip caught between her teeth flirtatiously as she handed a phone over to him. Her eyes were lit with a delight he had never seen before, not even when she was standing in front of The Seven on her very first day. The man grabbed the phone from her hand, his fingers brushing against her skin purposefully and Homelander could feel his anger physically bubbling up in him. 

What the fuck. 

The kid wasted an opportunity to get his 5 seconds of fame with Homelander but had the attemptive gall to get the attention of his intern? And it was working? The girl had that little self-respect that she was excited for some nobody off the street to notice her? Of course, because that’s what she wanted. She got all dressed up and ready that morning in her tight jeans, her low-cut top, her hair tossed to the side because she lived for the attention. Because she couldn’t just do her job quietly and go home like everyone else. 

“We’ve got a pretty busy schedule, pal.” Homelander called out, his voice booming through the quiet room causing everyone to flinch at the disruption. 

The interviewer looked over to the Supe with fake smile and an even worse apology. He turned his attention to the girl once more with a wink before ducking out of the door quickly. What a disrespectful little rat. 

The girl looked over at Homelander, the smile wiped from her face and worry taking its place in the crease between her eyebrows. She knew that tone from the man and she knew he wasn’t happy. They locked eyes for a moment in the uncomfortable silence of the room.

“Everyone out,” Homelander ordered, his stare never left the girl, “I’d like to have a word.”

The production team and makeup artist all shared looks before slowly filing out, leaving the intern alone with the Supe behind closed doors. The girl swallowed audibly though her mouth suddenly grew dry as Homelander lifted himself off his chair and slowly approached her. 

“Homelander, I’m so-”

“Ah” He interrupted, an unsettling smile stretching across his face, “I said I wanted to have a word, didn’t I?”

Her brow furrowed deeper and her eyes grew soft, almost teary as she nodded. 

“What is your job here?” Homelander clasped his hands behind his back as he paced in front of the girl. She looked at him, unsure what to say - if he truly wanted her to say anything at all. His smile never ceased as he urged her, “Come on, I know you have a voice. I hear it every god damn day.” 

His tone and his face was every bit the charming hero that everyone loved, but behind his eyes and words there was something much more menacing.

 “I-I’m here to provide support to Vought employees and talent by way of any requests or tasks assigned.”

“And what are you assigned today?”

“I’m here to represent Vought’s PR. To make sure all goes on as designed, smoothly and without anything unexpected.”

“Represent Vought?” Homelander questioned, his head tilted curiously. She searched his eyes, it wasn’t the answer he wanted. “Last I checked you weren’t an employee at Vought, is that right?”

The girl stuttered, “W-well, no…but-”

“I’m the only one that has any tangible meaning to Vought here,” Homelander’s smile dropped and he approached the young intern, his body casting a looming dark shadow over her frame. “So let’s get one thing straight. You’re here representing me.”

“Yes sir, I’m really so sor-”

“Oh cut the bullshit.” She winced backwards at his harsh tone until her back hit the wall but he continued to advance on her. “You think you’re the first person to try and smile their way into a position? You think you’re special? That you actually provide anything?”

Homelander could see the tears welling up at that point, and it somehow looked better on her than the gleam she normally sported. The way it collected in the corner of her make-up covered eyes and lashes, the slight flush to her cheeks and nose as her vulnerability shone through. The girl wasn’t as iron-willed as she thought - truthfully it was the most appealing she’d ever been. 

“That little stunt you pulled with that guy, what was that about?” 

She shook her head in confusion as her head dropped towards the floor, “I…I don’t know what you mea-” 

“You just like feeling wanted, don’t you? By a guy, by a company, it doesn’t matter. You just need to feel some kind of assurance that you can’t give yourself. Because you feel useless otherwise, right?” Homelander asked, his voice dropping into mock sympathy. He brought his finger up to the girl’s face, his gloved knuckle dragging down her cheek and jaw until it settled underneath her chin. He forcefully lifted her head until she faced him once again. Her eyes were red as she held in the urge to openly cry. 

“You think he actually has any interest in you?” Homelander shook his head with a patronizing smile as he said her name softly. “You are useless. You’re an embarrassment. And I have a little advice for you...”

The girl tried to move her face out of the Supe’s grip as a tear finally slipped from her eye but his cement-like hold kept her still. His shoulder shook with a laugh, his thumb extending up to wipe away under her eye as he leaned in slowly to her face. Her heartbeat lept as he neared, her eyes shutting forcefully in anticipation, her tongue sweeping over her lips as they parted submissively. Homelander preened with complacency at her assumption and he was almost tempted to fulfill her expectations. But instead he leaned in further until his nose rested against her temple. He breathed in the sugary scent of her perfume and warm vanilla of her shampoo - his hot exhale trailing over her ear and down her neck. 

“Stay out of my way. Do that and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get to flash your cute little Vought ID to the barista like a real employee.”

He dropped his hand from her face and in the blink of an eye he was feet away from her and headed back to his seat. She watched him in a state of shock and horror as he sat back down, as if nothing had even happened. Her lungs began to properly regulate her breathing as the room magically returned to its normal size and the claustrophobia subsided. 

“Thank God it’s Friday, am I right?” Homelander barked with laughter, the life and charm returning to his eyes and face as he fixed his microphone back in place nonchalantly. “Well, let’s get everyone back in here to get the show on the road!” 

She stared at him with hopeless confusion, as if questioning if the past 3 minutes occurred entirely in her own imagination. He looked back up at her but only gave her exactly what made her heart flutter mere moments ago from another - a wink and a smile. 

He didn’t see her again for the next week. He waited for her voice to enter through the door before herself - likely right before he conducted a meeting, interrupting and irritating him as usual - but she never showed. Every time he wanted something he looked around the halls, hoping to find the plucky intern to play fetch as she always insisted on doing but she was nowhere to be found. Her perfume even started fading from the rooms he normally felt suffocated in until he found himself wondering what the scent she wore even was. 

A part of him was let down that she turned out to be just like the others, always gone the moment it got a little hard. He felt that he could’ve been a lot worse than he had been, he merely offered a bit of life advice. She seemed so enamored by the new company she kept, it was hard to fathom that she’d give it up like that. He almost found himself wanting to casually ask Starlight about her new friend but he stopped himself, what was to gain from it? Probably a woe is me story of his given dose of reality.  

It was really too bad she was just as disappointing as he expected. 

By the following week he had almost pushed her out of his mind enough to no longer wonder or seek out her presence. No one so much as mentioned her through the days but he truthfully wasn’t sure if anyone even bothered to know or care as he did. But how could they not show curiosity? How could they not notice that her shrill voice was absent? 

And then he heard it. The melodic laughter that shot a pain straight to his temples as it echoed down the hallway. Homelander thought for just a moment that he may have been hearing things, even a Supe had their moments. But as the voice continued to float closer to the office he knew exactly whom it emitted from. 

He surprised himself with how quickly he shot out of his seat to peer around the door, but as he rounded the corner he was finally able to see the person he had spent the last week pondering over. Dressed back in her prim and proper pencil skirt, her hair held up by a thin band in a tight bun. And hanging from her neck…a Vought employee ID. 

Homelander huffed a short laugh, his eyes followed her approaching form as she walked closer and closer. The smile she always wore lit up her face as she spoke animatedly to the woman walking by her side wearing a matching ID. He had never seen the woman before, or if he had she wasn’t important enough to hold a memory of. 

The girl hadn’t noticed the Supe standing in the doorway until she turned her attention back forward. It was hard to not see the large man with his arms crossed over his chest, especially as his eyes all but burned both the surface of her skin and within. Figuratively and literally. As her gaze caught his own Homelander caught the slight falter in her step as her smile dropped until it disappeared altogether. 

“Well well well,” Homelander smiled and the girl noticeably cringed at the sound of his voice, “Looks like congratulations are in order.”

“Oh my god, you’re Homelander.” The insignificant woman next to them fawned, a twinkle of wonder in her eyes and excitement in her voice. Homelander didn’t even bother to look in her direction, his only focus being on the ex-intern in front of him. Though she hadn’t bothered to meet his stare, opting to keep her head ducked as he crossed in front of their path.

“Is that why you haven’t been around? What floor are you on now?” He asked, grabbing at the plastic ID on the end of the lanyard that hung loosely around her neck. She flinched at his movement impulsively. He read her name across the top of the card and looked over the picture that sat in the middle. Her bright eyes that normally shone innocence seemed to hold something deeper, a sharpness, a superiority that he’d never seen her express before. Homelander almost felt his own lip twitch upward at the notion. 

“I’m just grabbing some stuff that I left up here,” The girl said, an edge to her voice as she ripped the ID out of his grasp. “Excuse me.”

She stepped around the man to continue her walk down the hall, her hand firmly gripping the woman accompanying her - pulling her quickly by her forearm.

“You know Homelander?” The unknown woman whispered as she jogged to keep up with the girl’s pace. She only continued her retreat, her only reaction being a quick glance back to the man as held his spot. 

He watched, his jaw hung ajar as a million words threatened to spill from the tip of his tongue. She had expected him to follow, to hold her back, to say something. And he had wanted to, oh how he wanted to, but he held it in. At least vocally, mentally he was spewing a million thoughts a second. 

How dare she. Suddenly she thought she had any authority to ignore him? What happened to the helpful girl who only wanted to please? Couldn’t even have a pleasant conversation with someone she claimed to respect. Where did this backbone come from? When did she become so defiant?

All this time he spent wondering about her, thinking of her and this was how he was repaid? Embarrassing him in front of others? Ungrateful was just another trait he could add to his ever growing list of grievances. 

But why couldn’t he just let it go? 

She was moved to marketing on level 15 more than halfway down the building. Homelander had paid a visit to Ashley and was able to get the information he wanted from the very person who assigned her there. He also made sure to wring her out about shuffling people in and out, it caused disruption to the natural ecosystem of the company and his team. She looked at him in total bewilderment, he had never once cared about where an intern went or if he’d ever even see them again. In fact, most of the time he was in a more agreeable mood when they were gone. 

He watched her from afar, through floors, through walls. Watching as she shuffled from her desk to the water cooler or to get her own coffee, never once needing to serve others anymore. She was a hard worker, she spent hours at a time working on her own projects and those around her seemed to feed off her upbeat personality. The same personality that was almost like nails on a chalkboard to him. But every once in a while, out of boredom, Homelander would find himself tuning out the sounds around him to hone into that piercing voice or silvery laugh of hers. 

But she never ventured to the 99th level and Homelander wouldn’t be caught dead in any civilian department. Besides, why would he care to? 

They didn’t come face to face with each other again until months later. Vought’s annual kick-off event was an important one for the internal morale of the company. At the beginning of every fiscal year all employees were invited to the gala to partake in the provided cheap catering, the tone deaf DJ, and silent auction in the form of bulk electronics, bottles of wine, or tickets to a downtown tourist trap. It didn’t matter, the whole event would be a tax write-off anyway.

But the ultimate show of good faith was the chance to rub elbows with The Seven. They would walk around with smiles and handshakes, affirming with grace that they weren’t the real heroes at Vought. Sure, they were out saving lives and doing acts of god-like power but the Vought employees were the ‘real people making a change’. Everyone from the CEO right down to the janitors were all equally important and ‘fighting the real fight’. 

Homelander could feel the bile rising in his throat as the words spilled from his mouth time and time again. Being the leader of The Seven came with more annoyances than perks. He had shaken so many hands by the midway point that he was sure the leather of his gloves were worn out at the palm. And through that whole time he didn’t even see the one person he was sure would ring his ears the moment she walked in. 

He would never admit it but he took a hard glance around through people in search of her. Her hair probably pulled back though ditching the skirt and blazer. With a black tie event he wondered what she would look like in a formal dress. It was a toss up on whether she would be in something modest or something more form fitting. It was clear from the last time he had seen her out of the corporate uniform that she was certainly hiding underneath it. She had to be there, she was too proud of herself not too. He was almost surprised she didn’t use the event to have her own Cinderella moment as Vought’s newest darling employee.  

But as she didn’t turn up and with passing time Homelander continued his rounds between the peons. More photos, arms around the shoulder, and lying through his teeth. Though he was used to the charade, that night it seemed to be particularly grating. His eyes frequently darted from his conversations to the corners of the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of his ex-intern. Or even catching her wafting scent through the crowd of seeping cheap perfume and aftershave. 

A quarter of the way through Homelander started becoming irritated at his own agitation, he needed a moment alone to collect himself. He had made his way to the rooftop in an attempt to will himself the sanity to get through the night without letting his plastered smile fade away. Or worse. 

The cold night air that swept through the railing of the deck was a great relief. The terrace was secluded and quiet, not many people ever came to the spot as the wind was often too strong or too cold. He was also almost certain an access code was needed through the stairwell door but he never bothered himself with finding out. The mere moments it took for him to reach the top of the building from the ground did more to ease his mind than the lifetime in an elevator would. 

And just as always there was a certain beauty to the city from high above, especially after the sun had set and darkness took its place. The twinkling of lights bouncing between each building, acting as the city’s own form of stars in place of those that you would never see otherwise. There weren’t many things that Homelander found peace in but that was certainly one of them. 

He basked in the nighttime glow, allowing himself the second of peace and quiet before he would inevitably have to return to the crowded room until the tiring event was over. If only he had the power to speed up time. Homelander closed his eyes, filling his lungs deeply with the chilled night air and zoned his ears to the city streets below. The endless sound of traffic, music, idle chatter, and in the between the murmur of noise, sniffles and soft breaths. Loud. Louder than any noise on the ground level which could only mean that it was much closer than the rest. His focus turned to the shuddered whimpers originating behind him somewhere beyond the entryway. 

Normally he would have ignored it, been more ticked off that his area of peace was invaded rather than care for the reason for the pathetic cries, but curiosity got the best of him. He followed the emitting sounds around the roof until the sole proprietor came into view. A vision in a sleek glimmering dress, red faced with wetness trailing down her cheeks propped up against the sheet metal of the rooftop bulkhead. His little intern. 

Her hair gathered into a messy updo that sagged onto her shoulder as her quivering form shook it loose. Her makeup smudged around her eyes as she squeezed them shut in an attempt to stop the small cries from escaping her body. 

She hadn’t noticed Homelander, that much he knew. If she had there was no doubt she would have reacted noticeably. And if he was honest with himself, he would admit that he wasn’t sure what to do about that. His irritation dwindled to an awkward uncertainty of how to handle the situation that he was completely unprepared for. On one hand he was eager to say something, after all, he had been looking for her the entire night and this was a damn near perfect excuse. But on the other hand he could recognize the vulnerable state she was in and how unequipped he was to handle that. Both for her comfort and especially his own.  

He backed away slightly, his apprehension pulling harder in the game of tug of war in his mind. She would likely come back downstairs at some point, the party would still be going on for a while and there was no chance she’d pass up the chance to mingle. She was too driven to let that go. He may have had to extend the time he wanted to waste at the event, but he would if it meant he would find an opportunity to approach her. 

With his mind decided, he turned slightly to make his quiet retreat off the far side of the deck, though not without throwing a glance back over his shoulder one last time. His eyes landed back on the girl as she crumpled inwards even further, a sob wracking through her body. Her arms had crossed around her torso, her hands grabbing at her bicep and waist to hug herself tightly for any sense of comfort. 

His motion to leave had faltered. What could have possibly happened to make his normally bright and spirited intern so visibly distraught? Even his personal shake down didn’t get this reaction from her. 

The back and forth struggle reared in the Supe’s mind once again. He should leave her, let her gather herself back together at her own pace alone like she clearly intended. She had been up on the roof top seeking the same refuge and space that he had, he could choose to respect that. But truthfully, he didn’t want to. He was uncomfortable, he knew that there was little comfort he could give or even wanted to give, but he was also curious. He could almost feel an ounce of anger rising in his veins.

Who had done this to her? 

Homelander took a breath and shuffled closer to the girl, his feet dragging audibly against the slab roof. He was never one to drag his feet though in a quick moment of decision it seemed better to warn the girl of his presence rather than calling out. And his plan worked, with a slight jump in her shoulders the girl’s watery gaze whipped up quickly to meet his approach. She recognized him rapidly, his stark blue suit bright against the night sky and the flagged cape around his shoulders whipping in the winds. She turned her head quickly in the opposite direction, a hand moving to cover her mouth and control her breathing though she knew as well as anybody that there was little that could get past Homelander’s senses. 

“I came up here to be alone,” She said loudly, her voice wavering with the cry that was still caught in her throat. 

“I would say the same but it’s a little hard to find peace and quiet when there’s wailing in the background,” He threw out without a thought. The girl’s head dropped until her chin hit her chest, her shoulder shaking again as new tears fell to her lap. Shit. Homelander shook his head, even when his intentions were halfway positive he couldn’t manage to hold himself back. Just a reminder of why he shouldn’t genuinely try to comfort anyone.

Should he stop? Should he go back downstairs to mind his own business? But his mind would still be on the roof with her, he knew that. He wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about what was happening before him. Then he should apologize…right?

“I-..I’m sorry,” He forced, in his hushed tone it almost sounded genuine. She didn’t bother to look up and certainly not back at him - she didn’t make a move at all. But she didn’t tell him to leave again either and that was enough for him to feel okay with his move towards her. He stood next to her for a moment, glancing down as she continued to curl into herself. There was nothing to be said between them as she cried out whatever was going through her mind, but it eased his mind to be by her through it. And even more as he sat next to her and she didn’t shy away. 

The sheet metal against their backs was cold, even Homelander could feel the discomfort through his suit, but a steady warmth radiated off her body that made the cool night a little more bearable. He looked over at her bare arms and exposed back, trailing the goosebumps that spread across her soft skin where the fabric did not reach. It was clear the temperature was far from a worry in her mind, though it was a wonder if it was also a cause for the tremble through her body. 

Homelander reached his hands around his neck until his fingertips hit the clasps that held his cape to shoulders and collar. He pulled the long piece of patriotic fabric over his back as it came undone in a heap on his lap. 

“Here,” He held out the bunch towards the girl to little reaction. She didn’t look over or even so much as move to see what his offering was. With a sigh he took the liberty to throw the cape over her form, draping it across her shoulders and down her back. She could’ve at least been grateful that he was even trying to be a nice guy.

He waited for a moment for a reaction, a regard of any kind but couldn’t say he was shocked when acknowledgement didn’t come. But as he finally looked back out toward the skyline he caught in the corner of his eye as she moved her hands down to wrap the cape closer around her shivering body. And that was enough for him.  

They sat together in a silence, neither of them pushing a conversation or advancement past their physical presence. It was an odd comfort that neither of them would fess to.

The girl’s cries slowed down being replaced by soft sniffles and sighs. The shake in her body ceased until all was still around them. The sounds were replaced by that all too familiar chaos emanating from street level. Until she finally spoke.

“Why are you still here?” She asked. There was a touch of curtness in her tone though true malice was absent. 

“Why are you crying?”

“Full offense Homelander, what’s it to you?” She shot back. The vitriol in her voice shot surprise through his system, but before he could say anything back she was already speaking again, “You are probably the last person in this entire building to be asking about how I’m feeling. For months you have done nothing besides ridicule me behind my back, roll your eyes at my help, and I don’t even think I have to remind you of the last time we actually worked together. I’m sorry, but I also don't think I need to explain why I’m less than open to expressing my feelings to you.”

She spouted so fast that it took longer for Homelander to even catch all of her words let alone process them. But there were two things he was able to note as she went off and neither had to do with the actual substance of her words. She wouldn’t meet his eye, she stared off into the brightly lit windows of the office building across from them. Her voice wavered as it all poured from her lips, but her confidence was only as strong as her lack of contact. And though her words contained the weight she held in for such a long time, she still couldn’t help but apologize for even saying them. 

That was the girl he knew, the ever people pleaser. 

“I get that,” He replied calmly, as if none of what she said had bothered him at all being that he only caught half of it. She finally looked over to him feeling that his eyes never left her. She searched his face for anything more, any indication that this was an elaborate way for him to hold something over her or if there was an inkling of sincerity in the man. He had never been so agreeable, but there was nothing there to tell her of any ulterior motives. Still, how could she trust that?

“Why are you here, Homelander?” She urged, looking away again. 

He looked over the city with her as he contemplated his answer. Because he was nosy, was that the right answer? It was half the truth. Because he found it more entertaining than what was going on downstairs? That didn’t exactly feel right either. Why was he there? 

“I have nothing better to do,” it was the least he could give her. The least he could make sense of.

She snorted softly, an ounce of a smile ticking up at the corner of her mouth. The statement wasn’t meant to be a joke but her reaction stirred something inside of the man to her side. “There’s an entire party downstairs full of people wanting to be with you.”

“And you think I would rather be in the middle of them?” He spoke honestly, more honest than he’d ever be normally but he could help but have it slip.

She barked a loud laugh, “A chance for people to fawn and admire you? Seems right up your alley honestly.” 

He deserved that one, he knew it. “Believe it or not, I’m not really the biggest ‘fan’ of people.”

“Oh trust me, I believe it,” she scoffed with a sarcastic sneer. She’d been on the receiving end of that very attitude. She learned that the hard way yet still had the respect to keep a smile on her face and her chin up. That’s what rubbed Homelander in such a way when it came to her. She wasn’t just like everybody else, she didn’t comply or shy away. Her case was separate from all others.

“It’s different. You’re different,” He admitted, whether that was good or bad was up for debate between the both of them. He caught the subtle way her body stiffened at his words, but before either of them could think too hard on it he spoke again,  “But that doesn’t matter, this isn’t about me. Tell me why you’re up here crying. Shouldn’t you be brown-nosing with upper management or something?” 

Her shoulders slacked at his tone and words as it returned back to the man she had come to know. Homelander turned his head towards her as his ears caught a sigh of surrender left her, “If I tell you then can we call a truce between us? I’m tired of walking on eggshells.”

He hardly felt a truce was what was needed between them but nonetheless he found himself nodding her along. Another deep sigh left her body as she moved backwards to slump against the wall, her hands gripping his cape tighter to her.

“You were right.” 

He waited for her to continue, his eyes roaming over her form as she still refused to look at him. But as he waited and searched for an explanation, he felt his patience waning.

“Is that it?” He asked with a huff, “That’s not news to anyone.”

The girl laughed softly. A real laugh that lit up her face despite the sparkling of tears left pooling at her eyes. Her smile gleamed the same way he recalled in his memories as they replayed through his nights, too bright and unfeigned. Though in place of the normal annoyance he had felt seeing in the past, a warm comfort hugged his chest. 

“Sorry, I know that wasn’t meant to be funny,” she shook her head and paused for a moment. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly in the silence. The crease in her forehead accentuated the words that were stirring in her mind. Her hesitation was clear but Homelander kept himself silent until she found exactly what she wanted to say, he was curious. 

“You’re kind of an asshole, you know that right?”

The man’s expression wiped from his normally prideful face. Maybe it was the setting, maybe it was her emotions that were already shot, but it seemed her normal respectful and reserved manner had disappeared. Her honesty and lack of care had taken him aback and made him even more interested in what else she had held back, what other thoughts floated in her head, how could he know more? Her hands moved down her form until they rested on her lap, the cape hanging loosely over her bare shoulders. She calmed herself before speaking again, seemingly relaxed further that Homelander hadn’t come back at her with anything to tense the air any further, which was truly the real shock.

“Tripp never actually had any interest in me.”

Homelander thought for a moment, her words hanging between them. Who? The girl looked over to the Supe sitting next to her when no rebuttal came or even a move to respond. For the very first time in her presence, the man looked genuinely confused. Not even an attempt to appear knowing. 

“The guy back during your press round. The one before you…you know.”

Oh.

“The shitty interviewer?” Homelander absolutely never even bothered to know his name. Figured it would be something equally as inept as him. He seethed that you were on a first name basis with the little shit.

“We had been seeing each other since then, I should’ve seen the red flags every time he asked if he could come by the office but I just thought it was sweet. Maybe he wanted to see me so much that he couldn’t wait. But with me being new I always told him it wasn’t a good idea.” She sighed and swiped her hand across her cheek, embarrassment creeping through as she continued, “This morning I invited him to come with me tonight and he seemed excited, asked about the chances of me introducing him to the rest of The Seven. I told him it would be hard because I don’t work with any of you anymore.”

She shook her head, the glistening in her eyes returning as a pitiful laugh escaped her body, “Long story short, once he knew that then all bets were off. Told me if I couldn’t get him closer to you all then there was nothing in it for him. That I was useless to him.”

The girl pulled her legs closer to her body as fresh tears slipped down her blushed cheeks. Soft sniffles came from behind her crossed arms as she hid her face between them. 

Homelander’s jaw clenched. He knew that guy was nothing but a prick, how could she be so naive to put investment into something like that? There was absolutely nothing that guy could’ve offered her that would’ve been worth anything. She was supposed to be smart. 

“You said it best, anyways” she continued quickly, “For once I wanted to feel…wanted, I guess. I’m new to this city, to this job, I feel like I’ve done nothing but mess things up since I’ve been here. Everyone ignored me. A-Train called me stupid the minute I messed up his coffee order and you…you hated me the minute I walked into the room! I came off so badly that Starlight had to give me pep talks in the bathroom. But I still tried and nothing ever got better. Then after the incident with you, Homelander, I was done.”

She was blubbering now, her feelings all resurfacing with each word she choked out through tears, “I was going to quit. You were right, I was useless and it was embarrassing the people I admired so much thought I was annoying . And then when you had me moved, honestly there was a part of me that only took it because I wanted to prove you wrong. But really I was just trying to find that reassurance that I was capable of something. Anything.”

Homelander sat, his mouth slightly agape at the words that poured from her body. She hugged her legs tightly against her chest as sobs filtered into the night. There was a lot more behind that bright smile then met the eye, that was for sure. His words and attitude were meant to disrupt her, every snide remark or glare was truly from the depths of his irked soul. But hearing their effect didn’t bring him the sanctimonious delight that he wanted. The pressure built on the girl until she was inches from breaking, that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it?

“Wait,” Homelander said, “I didn't have you moved.”

“What?”

He shook his head, leaning his elbows onto his knees as he recalled her words, “I never asked for you to be moved. You thought I would help you get a job? After everything I said?”

She wiped the tears from her face, “I thought you just wanted to get rid of me, honestly.”

He huffed a laugh, “If I wanted to get rid of you then you wouldn’t be around anymore. At all.”

That was true, it wouldn’t have even been questioned if he asked that. But despite how much the girl stirred irritation within him, he never thought to get rid of her before her time. If possible it felt this time he may have actually done the opposite of what he really wanted. He may have pushed too far. The days gone by without her around agitated him more than when she was constantly badgering around the conference room. Not knowing where she was, what she was doing, who she was with, what she was thinking. He wanted to know more. He wanted her around more.

He wanted her. 

“I guess I should be grateful then.” She pulled the cape off her shoulder, exposing her back to the night chill once again as she folded it against her lap. Homelander’s eyes dragged down her body without a thought, he had forgotten the jeweled gown that hung off her body. It glittered under the moonlight just like the remaining tears that lay unfallen in her eyelashes, complimenting each other. 

“But anyway, you asked why I was up here so there you go.” 

That’s right. The reason for the tears. Because someone thought that they could break her down and throw her away as if it were nothing. As if there were no consequences because she was just too nice, too wide eyed. Funny thing about repercussions, you never know where they could come from. 

“Who cares what that prick thinks anyway?”  

“You think the same thing, “ she let out a breathy laugh, “you might be more alike than you realize.”

Well that was obviously not true, Homelander thought. That asshole was just a guy, nothing like him at all. He was different. That’s what he wanted to say, but for once he mulled over his words before he spoke. He craved this interaction with her, just the two of them, her walls down and open. He couldn’t have her shut him off, not again.

 “Listen, I've been a dick, I know. You’re capable, you said it yourself. You’ve already proved it.”

She stopped tracing the finely stitched stripes over the cape to look over at him, her expression showing disbelief at what her ears were hearing. “Wow, that was actually sort of nice, Homelander”

Homelander searched her face for a moment, “call me John.”

“What?” “My name is John” He repeated. He pushed and tested the water further, how far could he get before she pulled away from him again? His hand slowly reached to rest over the vibrant red and white of his cape that lay over her thigh. “You don’t need some asshole to tell you that you’re anything. You’ve got friends at Vought, people like you in your office, you've got friends, and some great ideas you’re working on.”

She stared down at his hand touching her over the layers of fabric between them. How would he know all that? He was never around to see how she interacted and certainly none of her ideas or meetings ever got back to him, why would they? Though despite the implications, his words were strangely but heartwarming. 

“You know all that?” She asked, looking back up to meet his gaze. He nodded only to stop abruptly when he realized his slip. He had been watching her, his keen superpowers coming in handy it seemed. If she knew that there was no way she would ever speak to him again, he fucked up even when he was trying not to. But despite his certain thoughts, a small smirk appeared on the girl’s lips. Her hand rounded her side and rested gently over the Supe’s gloved one that still lay gently over her leg. Her fingers slowly wrapped around in a firm squeeze. A friendly gesture that was certainly not expected. 

“Thank you,” she spoke. “Listen, I know you have a lot of pressure on you, more than I can imagine. I get why you are the way you are, even if it’s off putting. So, John, want to spill some feelings on me? Seems like a good start to a friendship here.”

For once he liked the way his name sounded on someone else’s lips. On her painted, glossed lips. It made him feel more important than any headline could. 

“I dont know if I would go that far,” he laughed authentically for the first time in a long time. A new flush form on the girl’s face. This time not one of embarrassment or sadness. 

“You know you’re not so bad when you let people actually have a conversation with you. I actually really liked this, thank you”  They sat there for a moment, hands still in each other's grasp, basking in the feeling of whatever new union was between them and all the unspoken thoughts of what it meant or what it didn’t. The only things that were certain was that Homelander wasn’t going to let her far out of his sight from now on and anyone who wronged her would be thoroughly dealt with. One before the end of that very night. 

The girl took in a deep breath next to him before standing slowly, her dress cascading down her legs as she let go of Homelander’s hand, “We should get back.”  

His eyes watched her as she wiped any makeup that may have smudged out of place and fixed her hair until it sat perfectly at the crown of her head. That sugary scent of her perfume caught in the wind and wafted over him, filling him with craving instead of agitation. But that would have to wait. “I’ll be down in a minute.” 

She looked down at him, a smidge of worry wrinkling between her brow, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just want another second before shaking a hundred more hands,” he smiled at her. It was a familiar smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, one that simmered something else behind it. But as he moved to tuck a wayward hair behind her ear, ease filled her veins. Whatever was on his mind was for him alone.

“Fair enough, I don't envy you,” she admitted, sharing a smile back. Though hers much more genuine as she looked over the Supe, “I’ll find you in there later for a picture of my own.”

Homelander listened to her giggle at her own joke as she turned to make her way back towards the staircase to rejoin the party downstairs. They shared one last look over her shoulder until she descended and disappeared below his view. His smile disappeared immediately without her presence. He had one thing to take care of before he could attempt to enjoy any part of his evening with his newly kindled whatever. 

There wasn’t a chance he would let someone hurt what was his and he would make sure that was known to anyone that dared.

[saintfaux]

[jincapableoflove]

A Jar Full of Us | one-shot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: best friend! jungkook, best friend! reader, college! au, unrequited love (?), idiots to lovers, best friends to ??? to lovers, angst, fluff, implied smut.

Summary: You never meant for him to find them. Hundred little confessions, folded away, never meant to be read. But now, they’re in his hands. And Jungkook—your best friend—knows everything. But he doesn’t say a word. He just watches you, with that same unreadable expression, like he’s waiting for something. And this Valentine’s Day, you might just have to find out what.

Inspired by: To All the Boys I've Loved Before

Word count: 10.2K+

Warnings: arguments, jungkook is a jerk, misunderstandings (a lottt of it), angstttt, reader and jk are huge idiots, mutual pining, implied smut (its not too detailed so that the story maintains the emotional connectivity), romantic intimacy, tooth-rotting fluff.

MOODBOARD

A/N: HERE IT ISSS! this is the longest fic ive written! tysm for all the support yall have given me in the teaser of this fic. i put out a taglist thinking no one would actually want to be a part of it but so many of yall asked to be tagged 😭 im so grateful! tysm i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writng it. lmk ur thoughts abt it after u read too <3 ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYY (someone date me pls)

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the dorm, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night—one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to study.

Joy, your roommate, is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside your bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box. You pull it out carefully, as if it were a fragile secret, and place it on your lap.

A soft breath escapes you as you grab a nearby pen and a book, neatly tearing out a tiny slip of paper. The motion is second nature now. Without even thinking, you let your emotions spill onto the paper, crafting a fleeting moment into something permanent.

Tonight’s memory is simple, but it still tugs at your heart. Jungkook had sent you another blurry picture of the moon, captioned with a casual, “Looks kinda pretty, right?” He knew how much you loved the moon—how it fascinated you in a way you could never quite put into words. And he had remembered. Of course, he had remembered.

A fond smile tugs at your lips as you write:

Jungkook remembers the little things.

Once the ink dries, you fold the note with care and add it to the collection. The box is almost full now, brimming with countless tiny confessions—whispers of feelings you’ve never had the courage to say aloud. A hundred little moments, a hundred little thoughts, all dedicated to the boy who had unknowingly stolen your heart.

Jungkook.

Jungkook, your best friend, who always saves you the last bite of his food, even when it’s his favorite. Jungkook, who sends you blurry pictures of the moon just because he knows you love them. Jungkook, who insists on studying with you, despite his major being entirely different from yours, just so he can make sure you actually open a book instead of procrastinating.

This little tradition of yours had started as a joke. One night, after an especially soft moment where Jungkook had wordlessly placed his hoodie over your head because you were shivering, you had scribbled on a piece of paper: Jungkook is warmer than the sun.

You had smiled to yourself as you rolled up the paper and dropped it into the box. It had felt oddly nice—preserving that moment, capturing the feeling of it in something tangible. So you did it again. And again. And again.

Until, one day, you realized you had written over a hundred of them.

You hadn’t meant to fall in love. And you certainly hadn’t planned to confess.

But each tiny slip of paper holds a truth your heart refuses to say aloud.

And you're going to keep it a secret forever.

You met Jungkook almost three years ago, during freshman year. The first time you met him, he had been infuriatingly kind.

You had been struggling under the weight of a precariously tall stack of books, barely able to see over them, when suddenly, a few disappeared from the top. Startled, you looked up to see Jungkook grinning at you, effortlessly holding the books you had nearly dropped.

"You looked like you were about to tip over," he teased, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

With a playful huff, you had responded, "Maybe I wanted it to tip over."

Jungkook had only laughed, shaking his head. "I'll catch you next time," he had promised.

That night, you had written a tiny note and slipped it into your box: He wants to catch me when I fall, even without me asking.

From that moment on, your friendship grew in ways you hadn’t even noticed at first. Midnight walks and late-night study sessions became routine, pulling you closer together with every shared moment. What had started as swapping notes for the one class you had together turned into sharing secrets. Somewhere along the way, before you even realized it, Jungkook had become your favorite person.

The box was almost full now.

You had written so many things over the years, each note capturing a small piece of him, a fragment of your feelings. Some were simple observations:

Jungkook frowns when he eats something delicious.

His hair is always a mess in the mornings. He hates it, but I love it.

His eyes smile before his lips do.

But one night, you had written something different. Something deeper. Something that felt like the truest thing you had ever put to paper.

I love him.

The moment the ink dried, panic had set in. You had almost torn it up, almost removed it from the box as if keeping it there would somehow make it real. But in the end, you had left it. Because the box was safe. No one was going to see it.

Especially not Jungkook.

One afternoon, you came back from your classes, ready to relax and unwind before the stress of exams fully set in. You had been looking forward to a quiet evening, maybe even a movie marathon with Jungkook to take your mind off things for a while.

But the moment you stepped into your dorm, you felt something was off.

Joy was sitting on the couch, sipping her coffee, her expression smug—too smug. A knowing smirk curled at the corners of her lips as she watched you walk in, and instantly, your stomach twisted with unease.

You narrowed your eyes. "What did you do?"

"I did you a favor," she said casually, taking another slow sip of her coffee.

A cold shiver ran down your spine. "What favor?" you asked, dread creeping into your voice.

Joy grinned. "I found that little cute box of yours."

Your heart stopped. "What?"

"Don't look at me like that," she waved a hand dismissively, as if what she was about to say wasn’t about to shatter your entire world. "It was just sitting there collecting dust, and I thought—what a perfect Valentine's Day gift for Jungkook. So…I wrapped it up and dropped it off at his place."

Silence.

A deafening, all-consuming silence as her words echoed in your head.

"You WHAT?!"

Your entire body froze in place, your breath catching in your throat as horror washed over you in waves. Your chest felt tight, your pulse roaring in your ears.

Joy merely raised an eyebrow, seemingly unbothered by the sheer panic on your face. "You're welcome," she said cheekily—before promptly sprinting out of the room for her life.

But you couldn’t chase after her. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past the ringing in your ears.

No. No. No.

This couldn't be happening.

Still desperate to deny the possibility, you dropped to your knees and scrambled to check under your bed, your hands shaking as you reached into the familiar space where you had hidden the box for years.

Empty.

It was gone.

The tiny wooden box that held a hundred little moments, a hundred little secrets—your secrets—was gone.

And now it was in Jungkook's hands.

Of all people…Jungkook.

Jungkook lived in an apartment a little further away from your dorm. The second the realization hit, you bolted out the door without a second thought, heart pounding so hard it nearly drowned out the sound of your footsteps against the pavement.

Your plan was simple—get to his apartment before he did. You knew his habits well enough to guess that he was probably grabbing a late lunch at that fast-food place near campus. If luck was on your side, you still had time.

He hadn’t seen it yet.

He couldn’t have seen it yet.

As you ran, your mind spiraled into chaos, bombarding you with every possible scenario—each one worse than the last.

What if he had already opened it?

What if he read through every single note?

What if he found the one that said I love him?

Your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

Jungkook was your best friend.

He was your person.

And now, he might know that you wanted to be more than just friends.

The mere thought made your chest tighten as memories of the two of you flashed through your mind. The times you spent together at the arcade, the countless movie nights, the time you and Jungkook had crashed Jimin’s birthday party with a ridiculous amount of booze.

And then…there was that moment.

The moment you almost confessed.

"I wish I could find someone who truly understood me," he had said one night, his voice softer than usual, lost in thought.

And you had almost said it. The words had been on the tip of your tongue, so painfully close—"I do."

But you swallowed them down.

Because what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if saying those words ruined everything?

And now, thanks to Joy, you didn’t have a choice anymore. The truth was out there, sitting in a neatly wrapped box in Jungkook’s apartment.

The thought of his reaction sent your mind into overdrive.

Would he laugh?

Would he think it was weird?

Would he—

Would he reject you?

No. No. No.

You shook your head violently as you rounded the corner, lungs burning from the sprint. You’re going to get there before he does. You’re going to take the box back, and he’s never going to know about it.

That was the plan.

It had to work.

As soon as you reached Jungkook’s apartment building, you barely paused to catch your breath. Your legs ached from running, but panic kept you moving. You made a beeline for the mailbox section in the lobby, frantically scanning the names, searching for his.

Box 109.

You yanked it open.

Empty.

Your stomach sank.

Maybe his roommate took it upstairs? Yeah. That had to be it. Maybe it was sitting untouched on the kitchen counter, still wrapped, still safe, still unseen.

You latched onto that sliver of hope as you rushed up the stairs two at a time, unwilling to wait for the elevator. By the time you reached his floor, your hands were shaking. You raised a fist and knocked on the door, urgency making your knuckles sting.

No response.

You knocked again, harder this time.

Then—finally—you heard shuffling from inside. A few footsteps. The creak of the floorboards. A pause.

The door swung open.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Standing right in front of you, framed in the dim light of his apartment, wearing an oversized grey hoodie that draped over his frame in a way that shouldn't have been so unfairly attractive. His dark hair was slightly damp, messy from a shower, strands falling into his eyes. His lips were parted in surprise, his brows slightly furrowed, and the expression on his face—confused yet soft, dangerously soft—made your already erratic heartbeat lurch violently.

But then, your gaze dropped to his hands.

And the world stopped.

The box.

The open box.

Your box.

Your secret, sacred collection of unsent confessions, of words meant only for the safety of your own solitude. The pieces of your heart you had never dared to show him.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

No, no, no, no—

"You—" You gasped, barely able to form words, chest rising and falling rapidly as you fought for air. "You opened it?"

Jungkook blinked, holding the box loosely in one hand, fingers curled around the edges as if he had been going through its contents just moments ago. He tilted his head, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah," he said simply, as if the weight of the universe hadn’t just come crashing down on you.

Oh. Oh no.

Your legs wobbled. You had to physically stop yourself from collapsing right there in front of him.

His gaze flickered downward, and you followed it instinctively. In his other hand, he held one of the notes. One of your notes. The handwriting was unmistakably yours, a little smudged, a little rushed, but still legible.

He cleared his throat, then read aloud.

"I don’t know when it happened. But one day, he became my favorite person."

Silence.

It stretched on for what felt like an eternity.

You thought you might actually pass out.

"Jungkook, I—" Your voice cracked, but before you could even attempt to explain, he looked up and met your eyes.

And then, to your absolute horror—

He smiled.

Not a teasing smirk, not an awkward grimace, but a real, genuine, knowing smile. A little shy, a little amused, as if the weight of what he had just discovered didn’t terrify him nearly as much as it did you.

And then—oh god—he spoke again.

"So… do you still think my hair looks best when it’s messy?"

Your breath hitched.

Your brain went blank.

You wanted to scream.

The change was almost instant.

In the days that followed, Jungkook became… different.

Not in the way you had imagined, though.

You had been bracing yourself for a talk—a conversation where he’d tell you gently, maybe even apologetically, that he didn’t feel the same way. Or, at the very least, a moment of awkwardness before things slowly went back to normal.

But instead, Jungkook just… pulled away.

It started subtly at first. He stopped texting as much. The late-night calls that once lasted for hours dwindled into one-word replies and seen messages. The casual lunch meetups, the spontaneous arcade runs, the easy, natural way he used to gravitate towards you in a crowded room—all of it changed.

And yet, despite the distance, he never fully let you go.

Instead, he turned it into a joke.

Like today, when he leaned in—far too close for comfort—during your shared class. His voice was low, teasing, the warmth of his breath fanning against your ear.

"So, I’m warmer than the sun, huh?"

You stiffened instantly, your hands tightening around your pen. He pulled back with a smirk, his dark eyes glittering with mischief as he watched your reaction unfold in real-time.

It was unbearable.

He kept doing it.

Whenever you tried to talk to him—really talk to him—he would either dodge the conversation entirely or turn it into something lighthearted, something unserious.

Like the time you finally found him alone, determined to just get it over with, to ask what had changed between you two. Before you could even get the words out, he cut you off with another one of those smirks, his voice laced with amusement.

"So I look best in black? Good to know."

And then he walked away.

That was when you finally got the message.

Jungkook had taken it as a joke.

He didn’t care about your feelings.

It was like the caring, affectionate boy you had known for years had vanished the moment your heart had been laid bare. Like now that the truth was out in the open, he didn’t know how to handle it—so he chose to mock it instead.

And worst of all?

He was pulling away from you completely.

The time you used to spend together? Gone. He was hanging out with other people now, filling his days with anyone but you. And when you did manage to cross paths, he only acknowledged you through those insufferable little comments, those cruel reminders of the things you had never meant for him to see.

It hurt. More than you wanted to admit.

Because maybe—just maybe—you had hoped that if he knew how you felt…

He wouldn’t push you away like this.

The next week brought the on-campus career fair—an event mandatory for all students. You weren’t particularly excited about it, but at least it was a distraction, something to keep your mind occupied.

Or so you thought.

Because that’s when you saw him.

And he wasn’t alone.

He was walking around with Hana, a junior from your college. They moved easily through the crowd, side by side, completely immersed in conversation. And then, to make things even worse—he laughed.

A real laugh. The kind that made his nose scrunch up and his eyes crinkle, the kind you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.

Your stomach twisted.

You weren’t expecting him to make it this obvious.

If he wanted to reject you, fine. If he didn’t feel the same way, you could live with that. But did he really have to parade it around like this?

Maybe this was his way of sending a message. Maybe he wanted you to know, without actually having to say it out loud.

A silent rejection.

What a jerk.

These days, you barely have the motivation to attend classes. You go through the motions—waking up, dragging yourself to campus, sitting through lectures—but your mind isn’t really there.

Because no matter how hard you try to distract yourself, the brutal reality of rejection lingers like a shadow, following you everywhere you go.

Jungkook threw away your feelings like they meant nothing.

You should have expected it, right? You should have known this was how it would turn out.

Maybe you were never meant to be anything more than a friend to him. Maybe, the moment he realized you held deeper feelings for him, he got scared. Or worse—maybe he just didn’t care at all.

The thought makes your chest ache.

Jungkook has always been a romantic at heart. You’ve seen it in the way he talks about love, in the way he watches romance movies with a dreamy look in his eyes. But clearly, you were never part of that dream.

And now, because of your stupid feelings, you’ve ruined everything.

You used to be his best friend. The one he joked around with, the one he trusted, the one he leaned on.

But now?

Now he barely looks at you.

And if he does, it's only to throw some teasing remark your way—like your feelings were some kind of joke.

The person you were most angry at was Joy.

Not Jungkook. Not yourself.

Joy.

Because none of this would have happened if she had just left that damn box alone.

That day after the box incident, the moment you stepped back into your dorm, she was there, lounging on the couch like nothing had happened. She glanced up as you walked in, a smirk already forming on her lips.

“I didn’t expect you to come back so early. I thought you guys would—” she wiggled her eyebrows—“get freaky after the whole confession, you know?��

She laughed, expecting you to groan or throw a pillow at her like usual.

But then she saw your face.

Her laughter faded. “Wait… what happened?”

You didn’t answer. You just walked past her and sank into the couch, staring at nothing, your mind still replaying every moment from earlier—Jungkook’s teasing, his smirk, his distance.

You heard Joy shuffle closer, her voice softer now. “I… I’m sorry. Did I send the gift too early? Did Jungkook not like it?”

You let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, no, he loved it.” You turned to her, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thank you so much for your help, Joy.”

Her expression faltered. “Wait… what do you mean?”

You shook your head, exhaling sharply. “Jungkook probably thinks I’m pathetic now.”

Joy winced. She sat beside you on the couch, guilt written all over her face. “I— I really thought—” she hesitated, chewing on her lip. “I was so sure, though. That boy always had heart eyes for you.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Well, now you know he didn’t.”

Silence settled between you both.

And for the first time, Joy didn’t have anything to say.

The next time you see Jungkook, he’s with Hana again.

They’re standing by one of the campus notice boards, deep in conversation. You don’t mean to eavesdrop—you’re not even sure why you stop—but the moment you hear them talking, something in your gut tells you to listen.

Hana tilts her head, her voice low but clear. “Are you sure she won't find out?”

Jungkook sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know… Maybe it's better this way”

Your breath catches in your throat.

Your first instinct is denial—maybe they’re not talking about you. Maybe it’s about someone else entirely. But deep down, you know.

As far as you’re aware, there isn’t another she in Jungkook’s life. Not before. Not when you were still close.

You’ve already been replaced.

Your chest aches as you piece it together. He doesn't want you to find out—because he's probably in a relationship with Hana now. Because he doesn’t want to hurt you with a direct rejection, he thinks hiding his relationship with her is the kinder option.

It isn’t.

You swallow the lump in your throat and force yourself to step back, turning away from the scene before you can hear any more.

You decide then—no matter how much it hurts, no matter how pathetic it makes you feel—you can’t bear being apart from Jungkook.

Even if he doesn’t love you back.

Even if he only sees you as a friend.

Losing him completely? That’s not something you’re ready for. Maybe you never will be.

So, you do the only thing you can think of.

You wait for him after class.

Your heart pounds against your ribs as you watch the door, your hands clammy with nerves. When Jungkook finally steps out, your breath catches. He looks the same—same hoodie, same soft brown eyes—but everything feels different now.

Taking a deep breath, you step forward.

"I get it, okay?" you say, voice firm despite the way your throat tightens. "You don’t like me. And that’s fine. I hope she makes you happy."

Jungkook halts mid-step.

His jaw clenches. His fists curl at his sides.

"You don’t understand," he mutters.

"Then make me understand, Jungkook," you plead. You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to keep going, even as your last shred of dignity slips through your fingers. "Can we still be friends, at least?"

Silence.

Jungkook doesn’t reply.

And somehow, that hurts more than rejection ever could.

There's a party happening, hosted by one of the biggest party animals on campus. Everyone is invited, and Joy insists that you go.

After much convincing, you finally give in. You've mended things with her—finally forgiven her. Maybe it wasn’t entirely her fault. Maybe you just needed someone to blame.

You decide to go, hoping for a distraction. Maybe the music, the drinks, and the endless chatter will help you forget, even if just for a night.

But you already know Jungkook will be there.

Probably Hana too.

And that's fine.

You'll just stay out of their way.

The party is in full swing when you arrive—loud music, flashing lights, bodies moving wildly on the dance floor, and the unmistakable smell of booze in the air. Bottles are being passed around, and the energy is electric.

A few friends from your classes spot you and pull you in, offering drinks. You take them all without hesitation, reaching for the strongest ones, letting the alcohol burn away the ache in your chest.

Jungkook is nowhere in sight.

Good. Maybe he didn’t come. Maybe you can actually enjoy yourself tonight.

With the alcohol settling in, your limbs feel lighter, your mind a little hazy. You dance to the outdated playlist blaring through the speakers, laugh with strangers, and let yourself let go—just for a while.

But after some time, it all feels like too much. The heat, the noise, the overwhelming buzz in your veins. You slip away from the crowd and make your way to the rooftop, breathing in the crisp night air, letting it cool your flushed skin.

And then you sense it—someone else's presence.

You turn, your head spinning slightly, and there he is.

Jungkook.

You blink, wondering if you're imagining him, but his gaze is fixed on you, a slight furrow between his brows. There's something like concern in his expression as he watches you, taking in your drunken state.

Your heart stumbles in your chest.

The alcohol makes everything feel lighter—your body, your thoughts, your inhibitions. So when you see Jungkook standing there, looking at you with that unreadable expression, the words just spill out before you can stop them.

“I liked you, you know,” you mumble, swaying slightly. “But now I realize… I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook doesn’t react. No apology, no denial, not even a flicker of emotion across his face.

He just exhales softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’ll be fine,” he says simply, then turns on his heel and walks away.

Just like that.

The cool night air suddenly feels suffocating, the weight in your chest heavier than ever. You watch his retreating figure, your heart shattering all over again.

The next morning, you wake up with the nastiest headache ever. Your head throbs, your mouth is dry, and your body feels like it’s been wrung out. You groan, forcing yourself to sit up as the hazy memories from last night slowly piece themselves together.

Jungkook. The rooftop. The way he just… walked away like he didn’t care.

You shake the thought from your mind, dragging yourself out of bed. There’s no point dwelling on it. Your exams are approaching, and you need to focus.

Deciding to get some studying done, you head to the library. The quiet atmosphere should help clear your head—or at least distract you from the mess that is your life.

But the moment you step inside, your breath catches.

Jungkook is sitting at the table you both used to frequent, completely absorbed in scribbling something into a notebook. For a second, you consider turning around, but then something catches your eye.

He rips out a small piece of paper, folds it neatly, and—without hesitation—slips it into a glass jar sitting beside him.

Your heart clenches.

Is it for Hana?

You don’t stick around to find out. Before Jungkook can notice you, you turn on your heel and walk away.

February 10th. Your birthday.

You wake up with a small flicker of hope. Maybe today would be different. Maybe Jungkook had been ignoring you all this time because he was planning something—some kind of surprise. That had to be it, right?

Surely.

So you wait.

By 3 PM, your phone is filled with messages—friends, family, even distant relatives reaching out to wish you. Everyone but Jungkook.

Not even a single text.

The hope that had carried you through the day starts to crumble, replaced by a hollow ache in your chest. You don’t go to class. What’s the point? This might just be the worst birthday ever.

That’s when Joy bursts into your room with a grin.

"You got a package!" she announces, holding out a neatly wrapped box.

Your heart leaps.

Jungkook?

You rush over, fingers fumbling as you tear open the wrapping—only for your stomach to drop.

It’s from your parents.

Disappointment washes over you, but you push it aside. They went through the trouble of sending you something, and you should be grateful. You take a deep breath, forcing a smile as you pick up your phone and call them.

"Thank you," you say, voice steady. Because at least someone remembered.

There was still time.

It was only evening—plenty of hours left before midnight. Jungkook would surely text before then. He had to.

Joy, noticing your gloomy mood, tries to lift your spirits. "Come on, let’s go out drinking. Have some fun, at least for your birthday."

But you shake your head. "I’m not in the mood."

She sighs, clearly frustrated but doesn’t push you. Instead, she flops onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. "I hate this," she mutters. "I hate seeing you like this. And I hate him for treating you this way."

Her voice is laced with anger, but there’s something else there too—guilt.

Because deep down, Joy still blames herself.

If she hadn’t sent that gift early, if she hadn’t tried to play cupid, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way. Maybe you wouldn’t be spending your birthday like this—waiting for a boy who might never come around.

Jungkook didn’t text that day.

He forgot your birthday.

You waited all day, checking your phone every few minutes, hoping for a message that never came. Midnight passed, and still—nothing.

The realization settles deep in your chest, heavier than you expected. You feel pathetic.

Pathetic for hoping. Pathetic for waiting. Pathetic for still caring.

It’s the day before Valentine’s Day.

You can’t afford to miss any more classes. You haven’t stepped foot on campus since your birthday, but today, you decide to go.

You have no motivation to see or talk to anyone. You tell yourself that you’ll just quietly attend your classes and head straight back home. No distractions. No unnecessary interactions.

But as soon as you reach campus, you notice a crowd gathering. There’s some kind of matchmaking event happening for Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

Great. Just great.

Everything about it feels like the universe is mocking you, rubbing salt on an already raw wound. Heart-shaped decorations, pink confetti floating in the air, and couples laughing—completely oblivious to how suffocating it feels for you.

You try to move past the crowd, but suddenly, someone pushes forward, and you get caught in the chaos. You stumble, losing your balance—bracing for impact—

But you don’t hit the ground.

Because Jungkook catches you.

His hands grip your arms, steadying you out of instinct. His touch is firm and warm, familiar in a way that makes your chest ache.

For the first time in days, you look up at him. And for the first time in days, he looks right back at you.

He doesn’t let go of you immediately.

His grip stays firm, his fingers pressing into your arms like he’s grounding himself, like he’s hesitating. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parting slightly—like he’s about to say something.

The music playing in the background fades into a distant hum. Everything around you slows. The laughter, the chatter, the festival lights—it all blurs.

All that’s left is him.

Still holding you.

Your voice barely comes out, a whisper against the space between you.

“Do you even care, Jungkook?”

His hands tighten for a fraction of a second. His jaw clenches. And for a brief, fleeting moment, you think you see something—something raw and unspoken flash through his eyes.

But then, like a switch flipping, he lets go.

So fast that you nearly stumble again.

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words cut through the air, sharp and merciless.

Then he turns. Walks away.

And you’re left standing there, alone in the middle of a festival meant for love.

This is it.

This is your answer.

Jungkook has made his choice.

And now, it’s time for you to make yours.

You have to move on.

That night, you decide—Jungkook was never meant to be yours.

It’s a painful truth, one you’ve been avoiding, but tonight, you accept it.

Needing a distraction, you start clearing out your closet, pulling out old clothes, forgotten trinkets, anything to keep your hands busy. That’s when you see it.

The pink heart-shaped box.

Your breath hitches.

You had snatched it from his hands that day, barely able to meet his gaze before bolting out of his apartment and driving straight back to your dorm. You had shoved it deep into your closet, hoping that if you buried it away, you could bury your feelings too.

For a moment, you consider throwing it away. What’s the point of holding onto it now? Jungkook knows. He read the notes, saw every piece of your heart laid bare. And in the end, it changed nothing.

Your fingers tremble as you lift the lid.

One by one, you pull out the little folded papers, unfolding memories you once held so close.

"I don’t know when it happened, but one day, he became my favourite person."

"His laugh is my favorite sound."

"I wish he knew how much he means to me."

Tears blur your vision.

You never wanted him to know.

Because you never wanted to lose him.

And now, you have.

The weight of it crashes over you all at once, and before you can stop it, the tears spill over, hot and relentless.

You clutch the notes to your chest as silent sobs wrack your body.

You’ve been holding the pain in for too long.

So tonight, you let the dams break.

And you cry yourself to sleep.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

You feel miserable.

Forget having a Valentine this year—you don’t even have a best friend anymore.

So you stay in bed all day, buried under the covers, refusing to acknowledge the world outside.

Your mind drifts, unbidden, to last year’s Valentine’s Day.

You and Jungkook had gone out for dinner—not as lovers, not as anything more than friends, just two people who didn’t have dates. You remember how he laughed at the terrible restaurant music, how he stole fries from your plate like they were his.

You miss it.

No—wait. You shouldn’t be thinking about him.

Shaking off the thought, you grab your Nintendo Switch and start playing, trying to distract yourself.

Then the doorbell rings.

You ignore it. Joy is probably home—she’ll get it.

But it rings again.

What is Joy doing?

Then it hits you—she probably stayed over at her boyfriend’s place last night.

With a groan, you push off the covers and make your way to the door. You swing it open, ready to shoo away whoever it is—

But there’s no one there.

Your gaze drops to the ground.

And then you see it.

A singular jar, placed carefully on the doormat.

You stare at the jar, a strange sense of familiarity creeping in, but you can’t quite place it.

Where have you seen something like this before?

Your mind scrambles for an answer, flipping through memories like pages in a book, but nothing surfaces.

With hesitant fingers, you reach down and pick it up, feeling the cool glass against your palm. It’s heavier than you expected.

That’s when you notice the writing on the lid, scrawled in red marker.

"To Y/N."

Your heart stutters.

You blink, trying to steady your breath, but the moment feels unreal—like you’ve stepped into a dream.

It’s only then that you notice the jar is filled with tiny rolled-up notes, crammed inside like secrets waiting to be unraveled.

Your mind starts spiraling.

What is this? Who left it? Why does it have your name?

Your hands tremble as you twist the lid open, the slight pop of the seal echoing in the silence.

You reach inside, fingers brushing against the countless little slips of paper.

With bated breath, you pull one out.

You carefully unroll it, eyes scanning the words scribbled in rushed, familiar handwriting.

"I lied."

That’s all it says.

Two words.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes trace the messy yet unmistakable handwriting.

Jungkook.

Your fingers tighten around the note as your pulse quickens.

It’s his.

The realization slams into you with a force that leaves you momentarily stunned.

Your breath turns shallow as the memory crashes into you—

Yesterday.

The crowd. The music. The overwhelming blur of people around you.

You had stumbled, nearly falling, only for Jungkook to catch you. For a fleeting moment, he held you close. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable.

You had searched his face, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you even care, Jungkook?"

You had wanted him to say yes. Even a little. Anything to make the ache in your chest feel less unbearable.

But instead—

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words had cut deeper than you ever thought possible.

And then he had let go. So fast, like touching you had burned him. Like you meant nothing at all.

You remember the way your heart had cracked, the way he had disappeared into the sea of people, leaving you stranded in the middle of a festival meant for love.

But now—

Now you stand here, gripping a jar full of his words.

"I lied."

Your hands fumble as you reach into the jar again, pulling out another note.

Unrolling it with shaky fingers, you read:

"I thought if I pushed you away, it’d be easier for you to move on. But the truth is, I don’t want you to."

A sharp pang strikes your chest.

Your mind reels, and suddenly, you're back at the rooftop party—drunk, vulnerable, spilling your heart out in slurred words.

“I liked you, you know? But now I realize I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook had stood there, silent, unreadable, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

No apology. No denial. Nothing.

And then, just as effortlessly, he had turned away.

"You'll be fine," he'd said before walking off, leaving you alone in the cold night.

The memory burns like an open wound, and yet, here you are, standing in your doorway, holding the truth he should have told you that night in the palm of your hands.

Your fingers tremble as you pull out the next note.

"I missed your birthday on purpose because I wanted to give you something that lasts longer than a text."

Your breath hitches.

He didn’t forget?

He chose not to text?

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, but it fades just as quickly as the weight of his words settles in.

You reach into the jar again, pulling out another note, heart pounding against your ribs.

What you didn’t know was—

Jungkook had spent hours writing your birthday note.

He had sat at his desk that night, a dozen crumpled papers around him, rewriting the same message over and over, never satisfied. His hands had been shaky when he finally folded the note and slipped it into the jar.

Because words were permanent.

Because he was afraid.

Because deep down, he knew—if he told you how much you really meant to him, he wouldn’t be able to push you away anymore.

And that terrified him.

Your grip on the jar tightens as you pull out the next note.

"I was scared you’d see me in the library that day. And you did. I almost stopped writing. But I wanted to finish this for you."

Your breath catches in your throat as a memory rushes back—

The library.

That afternoon, when you had finally dragged yourself back to campus to study for your exams, you had seen him sitting at your usual table, scribbling something into his notebook.

At the time, you thought nothing of it—until you watched him tear out a tiny slip of paper and slip it into a jar.

A jar.

The very same one you now hold in your trembling hands.

Back then, you had turned away, assuming it was for Hana.

But it wasn’t.

It was for you.

Every note in this jar was for you.

Your vision blurs as you stare down at the tiny rolled-up messages still waiting to be read.

He had been writing to you all along.

By the time you reach the last few notes, your hands are trembling. Maybe you can’t even read them through the tears clouding your vision. The weight of all those misunderstandings—every ignored confession, every painful silence, every moment you thought he didn’t care—crashes down on you all at once.

Your breath is uneven as you unroll another slip of paper.

"You thought I didn’t care. But I did. I always did."

A sob escapes your lips, the ache in your chest unbearable.

You clutch the jar against you like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held—because it is. Because it’s him.

Every unspoken word. Every hidden feeling. Every truth he was too afraid to say aloud.

And now, you finally know.

Your breath catches as you reach the bottom of the jar, realizing the significance—there are exactly 100 notes, just like the box you once gave him.

With shaky hands, you pull out the 99th note.

“I was always bad at saying things out loud. So I wrote them instead. I just hope it’s not too late for you to read them.”

Your chest tightens.

You take a deep breath and reach for the last note, your fingers trembling. Slowly, you unroll it, heart pounding in your ears.

“Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

The paper almost slips from your fingers as your vision blurs with fresh tears. A shaky laugh escapes your lips, somewhere between disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

After everything, after all the silence, the pain, the misunderstandings—he’s finally saying it.

And suddenly, all that matters is what you’ll do next.

The moment the words register, you don’t think.

The jar nearly slips from your grasp as you scramble to your feet, your heartbeat hammering louder than the thoughts racing through your mind. Jungkook. He couldn’t have gone far—he must have just dropped it off.

You fling the door open, barefoot, barely even stopping to grab your keys. The cold air bites at your skin, but you don’t care. You sprint down the stairs, nearly stumbling in your rush to get outside.

Your eyes dart wildly around the street, your breath coming out in frantic puffs. Where is he?

Then, you see him.

A few feet away, Jungkook is walking slowly, hands in his pockets, head low like he’s already bracing for disappointment. Like he’s already convinced you won’t come after him.

But you do.

“Jungkook!”

He freezes.

You don’t stop running until you’re right in front of him, breathless, clutching the jar close to your chest like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment.

His eyes widen when he sees you—messy hair, no shoes, trembling hands still gripping his gift like it’s the most important thing in the world.

You swallow hard, voice shaking. “Did you mean it?”

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, the night stretching between you like a fragile thread.

Then, barely above a whisper—“Yeah.”

Your chest heaves, breath uneven, voice shaking as you clutch the jar tighter.

"You absolute—jerk." Your voice wavers, but the anger, the hurt, the sheer weight of everything he’s put you through spills out in every word. "You sat there, letting me think I meant nothing to you. And the whole time, you were—" You shake the jar, almost laughing in disbelief. "—writing these?"

Jungkook doesn’t answer. He just stands there, hands stuffed in his pockets, jaw tight, like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’re about to say next.

"You could’ve just told me, Jungkook. You could’ve just—" You pause, gripping the jar like it’s the only thing holding you together. "Why? Why lie to me?"

He exhales sharply, his voice rough, like he’s been holding it in for too long.

"Because I was a coward."

You blink. You weren’t expecting him to admit it so easily.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, looking away. "I thought pushing you away was the right thing to do. If I let you think I didn’t care, maybe you’d move on. Maybe you’d find someone who wouldn’t hurt you like I did."

Your throat tightens. Your fingers dig into the glass of the jar. "You were the one hurting me, Jungkook."

His eyes finally meet yours, and the weight of them almost knocks the air from your lungs. He looks wrecked.

"I know." His voice is barely above a whisper.

"Then why?" Your voice trembles, frustration bubbling over. "Why did you let me think I was chasing something that wasn’t even there?"

His jaw clenches, and for a second, he doesn’t answer. But then, his voice comes, low and raw.

"Because I was afraid you’d realize you deserved better."

Silence settles between you. A silence so thick it presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You stare at him, your vision blurring. You should walk away. You should scream, cry—anything. But instead, you do the only thing you can think of.

You reach into the jar, grab a note at random, and shove it into his hand. "Read it."

Jungkook hesitates. Then, slowly, he unfolds the paper. His fingers tremble as he reads the words he once wrote.

"If I had been braver, I would’ve told you every single day how much you meant to me."

He sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the paper like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. His eyes flick back up to yours, burning with something you can’t quite name.

"Say it now," you whisper.

Jungkook's breath catches. His grip on the note tightens like it’s the only thing keeping him together.

You wait. Trembling, heart pounding, eyes locked onto his. Daring him to finally, finally say it.

He exhales shakily. His voice is low, rough—like it hurts to speak, but he does anyway.

"Y/N…"

You don’t look away. Don’t let him run from this.

His throat bobs. His hand curls into a fist at his side, then slowly unclenches.

"I love you."

A sharp inhale cuts through you. Even though you were waiting for it, the words hit like a tidal wave.

Jungkook shakes his head, almost laughing, but there’s no humor in it—just raw, aching regret.

"I loved you then. I love you now. And I don’t think there’s a single version of me that won’t love you."

Your vision blurs, the weight of everything pressing down on you all at once.

"Then why—" your voice cracks, "—why did you let me think you didn’t?"

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. His face twists with something close to pain.

"Because I was scared." His voice is barely above a whisper. "Scared that if I let myself have you, I’d ruin you. Scared that you’d wake up one day and realize I wasn’t worth it."

Your hands clench at your sides. "You don’t get to decide that for me."

He nods. Swallows hard. Takes a step closer.

"I know." His voice is softer now. "And if I could go back, I’d do it all differently. But I can’t. All I can do is stand here and tell you—"

Your lips crash into his, years of longing and heartbreak unraveling in a single, desperate moment. Your fingers fist into his jacket, pulling him closer, closing the distance like you’ve been waiting forever. Because you have.

Jungkook catches you. His arms wind tight around your waist, grounding you, anchoring you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. His grip is firm, unyielding, as if holding you is the only thing that makes sense anymore.

The kiss isn’t soft—it’s frantic, raw, filled with all the words you never got to say. It’s a confession, an apology, a plea. His lips move against yours with urgency, pouring everything into it, like he’s trying to make up for every second he spent pushing you away.

Jungkook tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs through you as his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath hitch. His other hand spreads against your back, pressing you impossibly closer, like even this isn’t enough, like he’d fuse you together if he could.

You melt. Every wall you built, every ounce of anger, every misunderstanding—crumbling, dissolving into the heat of him. The way he kisses you feels like an answer to a question you didn’t know you were asking. Like a promise.

When you finally pull apart, neither of you lets go.

Jungkook rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours, still uneven, still shaken. His hands remain on your waist like he’s afraid that the second he lets go, this will all disappear.

Your fingers stay curled in his shirt, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

His voice is raw when he finally speaks, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t deserve you.”

You exhale, shaking your head, the weight of everything still pressing against your chest. Your voice is quiet, but steady. “Then spend every day proving that you do.”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh—one that sounds broken and real, like he can’t believe he’s still allowed to have this moment with you.

“Deal,” he murmurs.

And then he kisses you again.

The door barely clicks shut before Jungkook is on you again, his hands framing your face as his lips crash into yours. There’s no hesitation now, no careful restraint—only heat, only the raw, aching need that’s been simmering between you for far too long.

His body presses against yours, pushing you back into the door, and you gasp against his lips. He swallows the sound, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping over yours with slow, deliberate intent. He tastes like something addictive—like want, like longing, like the kind of hunger that makes your stomach tighten and your knees go weak.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer. His hands roam down, slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingertips skimming along your bare skin. His touch is scorching, leaving a trail of fire wherever he moves. He pauses, his breath ragged, lips barely brushing yours.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, voice rough, uneven.

You shake your head, tilting your chin up until your lips ghost over his again. "I don’t want you to stop."

The words break something inside him.

His mouth crashes onto yours again, hungrier this time, more desperate. His hands slide up your back, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the hard lines of his body, the way his chest rises and falls unsteadily against yours. One hand grips your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you shudder, while the other slides lower, gripping your thigh and hitching it up against his hip.

A quiet moan escapes you at the feeling, and he groans in response, pressing harder into you. His lips leave yours, trailing a path down your jaw, to the sensitive spot beneath your ear, where he lingers. His teeth scrape lightly against your skin before he soothes it with his tongue, sucking gently, enough to make you arch into him, enough to make your breath hitch.

"Jungkook—" His name leaves your lips in a breathless whisper, and he exhales sharply against your skin, like the sound is enough to undo him.

His grip tightens as he lifts you effortlessly, hands settling under your thighs. Instinct takes over, and your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you across the room. He lays you down on the bed with care, but there’s nothing careful about the way he follows you down, covering your body with his own.

He hovers above you, his breath warm against your lips, his dark eyes searching yours. His thumb brushes over your cheek, then lower, tracing the curve of your bottom lip, his touch unbearably light.

"You’re sure?" he whispers, voice thick with something heady.

Your only answer is a whispered "Yes," breathless, certain.

Something shifts in him at your words. His lips find yours again, but this time, he takes his time—exploring, savoring, as if he wants to memorize every inch of you. His kisses trail downward, along the curve of your neck, across your collarbone, his mouth mapping out a path of heat and sensation. His hands move with just as much purpose, slipping under fabric, pushing it aside, fingers tracing bare skin with an intimacy that makes your pulse stutter.

Every brush of his lips, every slow, deliberate touch sends waves of electricity through you, igniting something deep and primal. Clothes are discarded in slow, teasing movements, the heat between you building with every layer that falls away.

His lips ghost over your shoulder, down your arm, over the curve of your breasts, his breath hot and uneven. He watches you, eyes dark with something intense, something almost reverent, as his fingers trace slow, lazy patterns along your bare skin.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmurs, voice filled with something deeper than desire.

You reach for him, pulling him back up, needing his mouth on yours again, needing more. He obliges, kissing you fiercely, like he never wants to stop, like this moment has been waiting to happen for far too long.

His hands explore moving towards your heat, his touch reverent yet possessive, like he’s memorizing every inch of you, like he’s making up for all the lost time. You arch into him, breath hitching, hands gripping onto his shoulders as heat coils low in your stomach.

"Jungkook," you whisper, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

His breath catches, and he exhales shakily. "I’ve got you," he murmurs against your skin, voice barely above a whisper. "I’m right here."

And then there’s no more talking—only movement, only passion, only the feeling of finally, finally being exactly where you both belong.

The air is thick with warmth, bodies tangled beneath the sheets, hearts pounding in tandem as the last echoes of your shared breaths settle between you. The world outside might still be turning, but in this moment, it doesn’t exist. It’s just you and him, skin against skin, the weight of what just happened pressing down like the softest, heaviest thing in the world.

Your body is spent, muscles trembling faintly from the aftershocks, but you don’t move. You can’t.

Jungkook is still holding you. One arm draped lazily around your waist, the other tracing absentminded patterns against your back. His touch is slow, soothing, like he’s still trying to convince himself you’re real. Like if he lets go, you might slip away.

You stay like that for a while, chests rising and falling in sync, your head resting just above his heart. The rhythm of it is steady now, no longer racing like it had been just moments ago. Still, there’s a softness to it, an unspoken question lingering in the quiet space between you.

It’s you who finally breaks it.

“So…” You shift slightly, fingers trailing absentmindedly along his chest. “Hana knew about the jar?”

His hand stills for the briefest moment before he exhales a small, breathy laugh. His voice is thick with exhaustion, but there’s amusement in it too.

“She didn’t just know about it.” His fingers resume their slow, idle circles against your bare skin. “It was her idea.”

You blink. “…What?”

Jungkook hums in confirmation, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Yeah. She was the one who told me to do it—to fill a jar with everything I wanted to say but couldn’t.” He pauses, then adds, “She also threatened to expose me if I didn’t.”

You scoff, though you can’t help the warmth blooming in your chest. “So let me get this straight… You couldn’t tell me how you felt, but you told Hana?”

Jungkook turns his head slightly to look at you, eyes still heavy with sleep, but the amusement in them is undeniable. “I didn’t tell her. She just… figured it out.”

Of course, she did.

You huff, feigning annoyance, but your fingers betray you, tracing soft, aimless patterns along his collarbone. “Still. She knew before I did.”

Jungkook grins, rolling onto his side to face you fully. One hand slips beneath the sheets, finding your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. His voice is low when he asks, “Are you jealous?”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

His laughter vibrates against your skin, rich and warm, before he dips down to kiss you—slow and lingering, like he’s trying to pour everything he can’t say into it. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet.

Then, softer now, more serious, he murmurs, “Are you gonna answer me?”

Your brow furrows slightly. “Answer what?”

Jungkook leans over, reaching toward the nightstand where the jar still sits, its notes untouched—except for the last one.

“The question,” he says, retrieving the single unfolded slip of paper. He holds it between you, and even though you already know what it says, your heart still stutters when your eyes skim over the words again.

Y/N, will you be my Valentine?

Earlier, you had left it unanswered, too overwhelmed by everything that had come before it. But now, after everything—after confessions, after heartbreak, after finally finding each other again—there’s no hesitation.

You reach out, plucking the note from his fingers. Slowly, carefully, you fold it again, tucking it beneath your pillow like something precious, something worth keeping. Then, meeting his gaze, you whisper, “You never needed to ask.”

Jungkook exhales, slow and shaky, like something inside him has finally settled. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin like he’s memorizing the moment.

“Good,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “Because I wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer.”

Your breath catches. Not because of his confidence—but because, deep down, you realize you’d never wanted to say no in the first place. Maybe you had tried to fight it. Maybe you had convinced yourself that the past had built too many walls between you. But now, lying here in the warmth of his arms, the truth settles into your bones like something that had been waiting for you to accept it all along.

It had always been him.

Your fingers tighten in the sheets as you search his gaze, looking for hesitation, for doubt—for something to make this feel less like a dream. But there’s nothing. Just him. Just you. Just this moment you both fought so hard to reach.

Jungkook watches you, waiting, always waiting, his hand still resting against your cheek as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

So you close the distance.

You kiss him slowly this time, letting it sink in. The warmth of his lips, the taste of him still lingering, the way he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. When you pull away, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing the same air, hearts beating in time.

And then, with a quiet, knowing smile, you whisper, “Then don’t.”

Jungkook’s lips part slightly, his expression shifting—softening, melting—as if those two words had knocked down every last barrier between you. And maybe they had. Because before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you against him again, tucking you close, his hand slipping into yours beneath the sheets.

Neither of you speak for a long time after that. You don’t need to.

Outside, the world keeps turning, time moving forward just as it always does. But here, in the hush of your dorm room, wrapped up in him, it feels like the universe has paused just for you.

Not to make up for lost time.

But to remind you that some things—some people—were never really lost at all.

And maybe, just maybe, they never would be.

EPILOGUE : Years Later – Valentine’s Day

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the apartment, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night—one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to pick a restaurant instead of saying, “Anything’s fine.”

Jungkook is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside the bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box.

But this time, there’s something else.

Your fingers find the jar—the one that started it all.

You pull them both out carefully, as if they were a fragile secret, and place them on your lap.

Soft footsteps approach. Then, a familiar weight sinks onto the mattress beside you.

Jungkook’s voice is quieter now, fond. “Didn’t think I’d see those again.”

You smile, running a thumb over the worn edges of the box before glancing at him. “I don’t know what made me reach for them.”

He hums, gaze flickering between the objects in your hands. “Habit, maybe. Or fate.” Then, smirking, “You always did have a thing for digging up answers.”

Rolling your eyes, you pop the lid off the jar, fingers fishing out an old note. The paper is creased, the ink slightly faded, but you already know what it says.

"Y/N, will you be my Valentine?"

Jungkook watches you, expectant. “You never actually answered me, you know.”

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. “Jungkook, we’re literally married.”

“And?” He leans in, teasing. “I’m just saying, a verbal confirmation wouldn’t hurt.”

You scoff but humor him anyway, fingers curling into his sweater as you whisper against his lips—

"Yes, Jungkook. I’ll be your Valentine."

His arms wrap around you, pulling you in. The jar sits forgotten on the floor, the pink box nestled beside it.

Once upon a time, you had pulled it out, searching for clarity. Looking for a sign.

You didn’t realize then—you never needed the answers inside.

Because you’d already found them.

Because you’d found him.

And maybe that was the answer all along.

taglist: @iamstilljk @hirochan112 @withluvjm @amarawayne @jeon-has-left-you-on-seen @blueofocean @tattzjeon @tsick @stuti2904 @gukkiebabysblog @taekritimin123 @whisperingonyx @sadgirlroo @nerdycheol @hoshiskimchi @blueberriesm @kooksrqcer @minimoninini @dreamersparacosm @yok00k @whothefuckisthishoe @prxdajeon @darkangelfei @sunainasworld @kia091106 @khadeeeeej @welcometomyworld13 @noshametempo @bakuhoethotski @ohyeah35sworld

thank you so much for reading! let me know what u think about it <3

[doppel-doodles]

A normal post a about Kevin Barnes from Poppy Playtime.

I genuinely feel so bad for Kevin…

Like that was a kid who clearly had a lot of issues from the start, instead of getting the help he needed all that happened was him being marked off as a „problem child“.

And then he was turned into a toy:/

Read more of my full thoughts and a sorta character analysis/ramblings below cut!

Like honestly no wonder he is seething if he wasn’t troubled before he definitely is now-

Obviously he has no trust in anyone, almost every adult he ever knew screwed him over in some way, hell even the kids he shares a body with would go against what he would do.

(Great example: When Doey chases us in his monster form, it's the arms of Matthew and Jack that are trying to keep his mouth from biting us, Kevin's are trying to grab for us.)

He was hurt over and over again, clearly he wasn’t aggressive just because he wanted to be but because this was his only way of making sure he wouldn’t get hurt.

It was how he had a semblance of control, a sense of protection.

But of course the irony is: That coping mechanism brought him more pain, it was what got him killed.

Sure, maybe he could've just "calmed down", but why would he? He was hurt again, he lost everything AGAIN.

All because he listened to their judgement over his own. Kevin could've killed the player and Poppy on sight, clearly his emotions easily overpowered the other two, but he didn't.

Instead he agreed to trust them as well.

He was still willing to do that, surely if he were just a mindless monster he wouldn't be.

And you know what? I believe he blames himself just as much if not more for what happened than he blames us and Poppy and projects it tenfold.

Because maybe, JUST MAYBE-

If he didn't allow himself to trust again, then everyone would still be alive.

But he did...now see what that got him?

In his mind he's proven right.

So what's an emotionally unstable child to do? After being hurt AGAIN?

That's right.

He lashes out at the first thing he sees that had something to do with his pain:

Us.

Is he in the right? Hell nah- bro we didn't mean for that to happen! But do you seriously think this kid is thinking rationally right now??? NO! He is seeing red right now, he is in fight mode! All emotions and must I reiterate that the only way he knows how to express them is through anger and violence?

There is NO reasoning with wrath try as you might! And that hurts because yeah maybe you could've dealt with that if he was still a gradeschooler but he isn't! He is 900 pounds of living dough with a thirst for blood!

It's either our life or his now. And we already know what the outcome of that is.

Honestly I think it's better that we only hear Matthew and Jack apologise for what happened, I do not think Kevin would even if he did feel bad for what he had done.

Because why would someone who has been scorned so many times be vulnerable all of the sudden? When his main character trait is biting at those who bark at him?Why would all that rage suddenly disappear? If anything the stress of dying only causes him to lash out more.

You don't need an apology from him to feel bad for him.

He is hurting anyone with two eyes can see that and for what it's worth, I do believe deep down he knew what he was doing was wrong but it was too late for him to see any other alternatives and even if he didn't and thought he was right for doing what he did it doesn't take away from the fact that he was fucked over by life.

Kevin is not the worst part of Doey, he is just a part of him.

And that part is not just a violent hunk of playdough.

It’s a scared, confused little boy that cared just as much about every toy in safe haven as his other two components did.

Because if he didn’t why would he get so angry about their death?

Anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk-

Also feel free to agree or disagree with my take, those are just my thoughts so let me hear yours, I like discussions:}

For those interested here are some Jack thoughts and Matthew!:D

And the big blue lump Doey

[phantomwithbreakfast]

A small piece from an upcoming chapter of my Phan fic 𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙃𝙖𝙡𝙛 𝘼 𝙇𝙞𝙛𝙚.

⋆.˚ ⚡︎

A reflection stared back at him.

A boy—no. A man. A stranger.

His black hair clung to his forehead, greasy, dull, lifeless…

Just… this—this empty thing wearing his skin.

Blue eyes. But were they his?

Hollow. Glassy. A dull, dead shade that wasn’t supposed to belong to him. His gaze drifted downward, skimming over his body—ruined, broken, scarred. He didn’t even flinch at the sight anymore. The jagged lightning-shaped scar stretched across his cheek and neck, a souvenir from those seven months, from that collar.

Seven months.

The scar would never heal. Like the Y-shaped wound carved across his chest. Like the invisible ones inside him, festering, splitting him apart from the inside out.

⚡︎ ⋆.˚

⟢ Ao3

⟢ More under the cut—some detail shots.

⟢ The drawings in the polaroids are older ones that I never shared before, way back from August last year ;3

[birdiewritessometimes]

you are my favorite writer and I’m begging on my knees for more Theo fics because your last one ate so hard im in love with it🫶🏼🫶🏼 I don’t really have any ideas besides the reader who wears prescribed glasses (I don’t really see any glasses readers as someone who has to wear glasses), a hufflepuff or Ravenclaw and it being really soft and fluffy

Take all the time you need no rush! ㅤᵕ̈ ♡

Pack of Cigarettes

A/N: Thank you sososososososo much <3 This really made my day (month hah aim so bad) and I’m so so so so sorry you had to wait so long, school was busting my ass and them Christmas came and the holidays are just stressfull! And girl I feel you, I have glasses myself! I’m sorry this will be filled with clichés just as usual (I can’t help myself). Also I’m just saying but the astronomy tower is just their hang out, that’s just how it is. Also also I included a funny bonus scene at the end that didn’t really fit in the fic but that I loveeeed soooo enjoy that too hihihi

Summary: Theodore has formed a crush on one of the most closed off people but maybe dropping his cigarettes on purpose with help him to talk to her.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Hufflepuff!reader

Themes/warnings: Sort of shy reader!, fluff, some tension, longing, kissing.

Word count: 4500 -ish

Please do not copy or translate my work!

The grounds were covered in a thick layer of snow. It was a clear day. Cold winds whipping the windows of the library where you were currently sitting, studying. It was a Saturday in the beginning of January. The term had just started and yet you had homework stacked up to your ears. The NEWT-classes were really kicking your butt. There were few students in the library at this hour, most were still enjoying their breakfast in the great hall. You were sitting by the window, occasionally looking out at the snow covered quidditch-pitch as you were finishing your week’s homework. The occasional cracks and snaps of the fire filling the otherwise silent library, casting an over all calmness over you as you ruffled through the pages of the various books you needed for your homework.

The sound of the door pulled you out of your bubble of concentration. Theodore Nott walked in with his friends. Your eyes raked over his figure as he walked with his friend, Mattheo Riddle, an air of easy confidence around the pair. Your eyes traced the outline of his large hoodie, the perfect fit of his jeans, back up to the perfectly messy mop of hair that sat on his head. You felt your heartbeat increase as Mattheo nudged his friend while looking at you with a smirk, Theodores eyes snapped to yours making you blush as you quickly glanced down into your book again. You glanced down at your clothes, mentally thanking yourself for choosing both cute and comfortable clothes today. Only cursing yourself for choosing your glasses rather than your lenses. You usually wore your contact lenses during the weeks, it being more convenient than your glasses that got dirty all the time, but during weekends you opted for your glasses since your lenses made your eyes dry.

Theodore and his friends sat down by a table just a couple away from yours, giving you a perfect view of the group of troublemakers. You shifted your concertation back at the transfiguration homework before you. You did however steal glances at Theodore from time to time. You had the most painful crush on the boy but never had the courage to talk to him. It was no secret that half of the female population of Hogwarts crushed on the troublemaking boys in Slytherin, so you tried to push your feelings away, only letting yourself admire him from afar.

As you were scribbling down the answers to the questions of the work sheet you heard a soft thud near you. Looking up you saw the retreating back of the tall Italian boy with fluffy hair. Looking down at the wooden floor you saw a pack of cigarettes. Frowning slightly, you bent down to pick them up. It was no secret that Theodore and his friends smoked so you assumed that they were his. Looking back over at him you saw how he was opening a book that you assumed he got when he walked past you. Gulping you realised that you probably should go over to him and give them back. Your heartbeat increased at the mere thought of it. Taking a deep breath, you gathered what little courage you had and stood up. The pack of cigarettes in your hands. You saw how Mattheo nudged Theodore when he noticed your approach. Theodores eyes snapped to yours making you blush. You had no idea why your cheeks felt the need to burn up whenever Theodore Nott was involved and right now you cursed yourself for your blush.

“Excuse me.” You said softly when you reached the table. The others, Lorenzo Berkshire and Blaise Zabini, were also looking at you now, a curious look in their eyes. “I think you dropped this.” You said, your voice quiet as you stretched out your hand with the pack of cigarettes to Theodore. He looked at you surprised but made no move to take them. It wasn’t until Mattheo elbowed him in the ribs that he responded.

“Right, sorry bella,” you assumed the nickname just slipped out, but it made you blush none the less, “thank you.” He said, flashing you a small smile before he reached for the pack. His fingers grazed yours as he took it from your much smaller hand. You felt your breath hitch at the contact but willed yourself to breath normally.

“You’re welcome.” You said quickly before you turned around and hurried back to your spot. Your heart was beating so rapidly you were sure that they could hear it if you stayed any longer.

The clock chimed as the pointers hit the number twelve you gathered the books you had borrowed to put them back in their right places before lunch. You noted that you had collected a rather big pile as you struggled to carry them all. Your eyes quickly darted involuntary in Theodore’s direction to see him and his friends gathering their things. With a breath you picked up the pile and started to head towards the large wooden bookshelves. As you were standing on the tips of your toes, trying to shimmy a book into its place by the very tips of your fingers, a large hand came from behind you and slid the book into its place. You let out a startled gasp as you turned around to see the very boy you were crushing on. Your eyes raked his face, now that he was closer. Tired eyes that seemed to have a glint of mischief in them. They were the most gorgeous steely blue. Your eyes travelled to his soft brown hair, thick and practically inviting you to run your fingers through it. His scent enveloped you like a hug of warmth, a touch of citrus and the smell of cigarettes lingered. It didn’t bother you though, like it did most people.

“Quite the stack of books you got there, bella.” His gravelly voice pulled you out of your shameless staring, his thick Italian accent more attractive now than earlier. The nickname made the familiar heat of a blush rise to your cheeks. You opened your mouth as to say something, but no sound came out. Embarrassed you closed your mouth quickly and looked away. You heard how he let out a chuckle at your embarrassed state.

“Come on, bella. Let me help you.” He stated as he casually grabbed the heavy pile of books in your arms, carrying it with ease. You willed your pulse to slow back down to normal as you slowly walked along the shelves, putting back the books. You took the ones who belonged on the lower shelves and Theodore took the ones that belonged to the higher ones. By the time you put away the last book you found yourself so far back in the library that you couldn’t see the seating area. You turned your body to look up at the boy after you had put away the very last book.

“Thank you, Theodore.” You spoke, your voice soft as you were relieved that you finally found your voice around him. His lips curled into a small smile as he stared at your face. Your stupid heart quickened again from the way he was looking at you. Heat, that it so often did around him, rose again to your cheeks as you broke eye contact.

“I like your glasses, they suit you.” He murmured making you look up at him, your eyes wide. You have never been complimented for your glasses before. Your hand shot up to correct your glasses, a nervous habit you developed as your eyes widened.

“Really?” You wanted to slap yourself for the hopeful tone in your voice, but Theodore just smiled and nodded. He stepped closer to you, invading your space and effectively caging you in between himself and the bookshelf behind you. Hot air surrounded you as he leaned in so that his lips were nearly grazing the shell of your ear, his warm breaths hitting your neck as he exhaled. You heart was nearly hammering out of your chest.

“I think you should wear them more often.” He mumbled in your ear before leaning back and turning to look you in your eyes. You were so close to his face now that your noses almost touched. You saw how his lips curled into a smirk. You let your mind wander to how it would feel to have his lips on yours. Would they be soft and gentle, or rushed and demanding? You found yourself realising that it didn’t matter much, you would happily take whatever he was willing to give you. Your eyes travelled back up to meet his steely blue ones, and you felt your breath hitch with the intensity of his look. A smirk still plastered on his face.

“I’ll see you later, bella.” He said through his smirk, the mischievous glint in his eyes as he stepped away from you, letting the cold air surround you once again. You were sure your face was beet red as you watched his retreating form. He looked back at you once more, sending you a wink before rounding a bookshelf. When you couldn’t see him anymore you let out a big breath you didn’t know you were holding. Feeling hot all over you quickly decided to grab a snack from the kitchens and resume your studying in the Hufflepuff common room. Far away from Theodore Nott and the effect he had on you.

The start of the week came sooner than you would’ve liked, but you had at least finished all your homework. You were feeling tired as you got ready for the day ahead. As you were preparing to put your lenses in your glasses caught your eye. Your heart quickened as you thought about the encounter that happened Saturday. Should you use your glasses today? He will know it’s because he said so. But so what? The thoughts swivelled in your head as you stood there looking at your glasses. In one giant breath you picked up your glasses and put them on. Hurrying out of your dorm before you could change your mind.

The day went by pretty normally. Zacharias Smith had actually complimented you about your glasses. It made you smile, although it didn’t make you feel any of the things Theodore had made you feel, it was still nice to get complimented. You were on your way to dinner when you bumped into something, or rather someone. Because someone caught you around the waist so you wouldn’t fall from the impact. Looking up you were met with the steely blue eyes of Theodore. He was smirking down at you, his large hand splayed against your ribcage. You felt a blush dust your cheeks at the proximity.

“Be careful bella.” He smirked and leaned down so his mouth was close to your ear yet again “I like the glasses.” He murmured before he let you go. A cold instantly spreading through you at his absence. He gave you a wink before stepping around you to continue on his way. The encounter made the butterflies in your stomach go wild, making it hard to eat. Your thoughts were constantly drifting towards your encounters with Theodore, making a blush spread on your cheeks and butterflies flutter in your stomach every time.

You would run into Theodore more often around the castle after the encounter before dinner, if it wasn’t in the corridors he would casually plop down in the seat next to yours during the classes you shared. The first time this happened you had almost jumped out of your own seat. He had startled you as he took the seat your best friend usually sat in.

“This seat free?” He had asked innocently and just at that moment your friend had walked in and gave you a knowing smile before sitting down next to Zacharias. You had only nodded at Theodore before you went back to get ready to take notes. During the classes you shared you noticed that Theodore rarely took notes, he usually just sat, leaned back into the chair, his legs spread more widely than any human could need, his knee usually gently grazed your own. Even if he didn’t take notes, he usually could answer the questions the teachers directed at him.

Now you were slowly warming up to him, even though your butterflies wouldn’t calm down around him. You would greet each other in the corridors, and you would say hi to his friends in the classes your shared. You noticed that you were slowly being more and more open to them and less nervous.

It was a weekend morning, and you were sitting at the Hufflepuff table in the great hall eating breakfast. Your friends were still asleep in their dorms. You were reading the Daily Prophet as you munched on some toast with marmalade when Theodore, Mattheo, Blaise and Lorenzo casually sat down around you. You looked up from the article you were reading in chock at the boys.

“Morning, bella.” Theodore smirked as he reached for some bread. The others murmured their various greetings as well before they helped themselves to some breakfast. You stared at them, unable to wrap your head around what was going on.

“What are you doing?” You asked them in surprise.

“Eating breakfast.” Mattheo shrugged from beside you making you snort.

“We thought you would like some company, bella.” Theodore said nonchalantly as he refilled your juice jug. A small smile broke out your face as you thanked him softly. He gave you a soft smile back before the five of you fell into easy conversation. You really started to feel more comfortable around them as they sat there, joking around, talking over each other and being general chaos.

A couple of days later you found yourself sitting in the library, the school-day had ended, and you decided to catch up on schoolwork as you waited for dinner. You were sitting at one of the tables in the very back of the library, next to one of the windows where you could easily see the glittering snow-covered grounds. You had decided to wear your contact lenses today, not feeling like cleaning your glasses all throughout the day. Your hair was down, neatly tucked behind your ears as you poured over the homework you had gotten from Professor Slughorn in potions. You were so deep in concentration that you almost shrieked when Theodore plopped down in the seat beside you. You had a hand over your chest, as to calm your racing heart.

“Theo, you scared me.” You mumbled, as you tucked a strand of hair that had fallen out of place back behind your ear. You turned to the side to look into his blue eyes. A smirk plastered on his face.

“Well, you would’ve heard me if you weren’t so focused on your…” his eyes travelled to your potions homework “homework, seriously y/n? We got that today?” He then questioned in mock offense.

“Well, I prefer to be on time, Theo.” You said pointedly. You had grown more confident around him and his friends since the time you shared breakfast together. Your crush on the boy beside you had not calmed one bit, however. Your feelings only grew stronger with the attention and the friendliness he had showed you. You were however unsure on his feelings towards you.

“Bella, it wouldn’t kill you to relax some time…” He trailed of as his eyes scanned your face; he was frowning slightly making your heart beat in worry. Did you have something on your face? Did he think you were ugly? Insecurities and anxious thoughts swivelled around in your head at his frown.

“What’s wrong?” You asked after gathering the courage. Anxiety rising in your throat.

“Where’s your glasses?” He asked. Your anxiety deflated as a balloon. Relief washed over you, calming your nerves, and a small laugh bubbled past your lips.

“Wh-what?” You asked between giggles.

“Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” He asked again, eyebrows furrowed this time. He looked like a confused puppy the way he was tilting his head slightly to the side.

“Sometimes I’m too lazy?” You said amusedly, although it sounded more like a question.

“I like your glasses…” He mumbled under his breath. His comment made your heart flutter, but not as much as it did when he lifted his eyes to look at your face again. He was looking at you with an intensity you hadn’t experienced before. His eyes travelled across your face; it was almost like he was mapping out your features. There was still a frown on his face, but his eyes had softened. You felt your heartbeat increase again, the air around you now thick. You hadn’t noticed how close he was until it was too late. You could now see the darker greyish circle around the outer border of his iris. You could make out the individual lashes around his eyes. Your eyes travelled down and noticed a small scar on his cheek. A thin slightly pinker line no longer than a centimetre sitting there on his cheek. You had never seen it before. Before you could stop yourself, your fingers had reached out to trace the scar. You didn’t say anything, neither did Theodore, as you gently let your fingers graze his skin. He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed, seemingly enjoying your touch.

“Do you know how amazing you are?” His voice was hoarse as he muttered the question, his eyes still shut, your fingers still moving to trace his face.

“What?” You let out, almost breathless. Theodore nodded, his eyes fluttering open to look you in your eyes.

“Yeah, you’re nice, smart and beautiful.” He said it so easily, almost like a shrug as he leaned more into your touch. Your heart hammered in your chest as a blush rose on your cheeks.

“You think I’m beautiful?” You asked timidly. He let out a chuckle, although it did little to ease the tension.

“Haven’t you noticed?” He then asked to which you shook your head.

“Bella, everything about you is beautiful, you’re beautiful in your uniform, in your casual clothes, with your glasses, without your glasses, when your hair is like this,” he let his hand rake through your hair, “when it’s up,” you felt your blush increase, “and don’t get me started on that, it almost brings me to my knees.” He said as his thumb gently traced your hot cheek. Your pulse was thundering in your veins at his confession. Your hand had halted its movements as he was speaking. His other hand engulfed it as it was hovering awkwardly by his face. He moved to his lips and pressed a kiss to your pulse point on your wrist. Your breath hitched at his contact.

“There’s a reason I always call you bella, and go out of my way to speak to you, you know,” he mumbled against the delicate skin on your wrist, “it’s because you’re so god damned beautiful,” he said before kissing your wrist again, “and nice,”  and again, “and smart, too smart for me,” and again.

“Theo.” It came out more like a breath rather than an actual word. It almost didn’t feel real but when his eyes snapped up to yours again you knew it was. Before you had the chance to react his large hands found your waist and you were dragged into his lap. His eyes were so intense that it felt like someone punched the air out of your lungs.

“I love it when you call me that.” He whispered, one of his hands moving up from your waist to your cheek. His other hand was gripping the soft flesh of your waist almost like a lifeline. You let out a breath that sounded like a gasp.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked and you nodded absentmindedly, your mind to busy making sure you were breathing and not fainting. His hand moved to grip the hair at the nape of your neck.

“I need to hear you say it.” He said, sounding almost strained. Your hands had moved up to hold onto his shoulders. His skin emitting warmth through his school dress shirt.

“Kiss me, Theo.” It didn’t sound like your voice; it sounded distant but none of that mattered when you felt his surprisingly soft lips on yours. He moved slowly, gently, almost like he was savouring the moment. His fingers gripped your waist even harder, like he was holding himself back. Your fingers moved from his strong shoulders to his soft hair. The strands tangled in your fingers as they moved to the nape of his neck, gently tugging on the hair there. Theodore let out a groan into your mouth as he pulled you even closer to his body. After some time, you pulled away for air. An intense blush spreading across your cheeks when your eyes met Theodore’s. He was smiling at you, a soft, genuine smile.

“Go on a date with me.” He said breathlessly. You let out a breathy giggle.

“Don’t you think we’re doing this backwards?” You asked, gesturing to the non-existent distance between your body. He shrugged confidently, his signature smirk stretching on his lips. His relaxed air seemed to seep into your body, making you relax completely in his grasp.

“Yeah, but my girl deserves a perfect first date.” He said, his voice confident and nonchalant at the same time making you let out a giggle.

“Your girl?” You asked, your brow raised in question, but he just merely shrugged.

“I didn’t hear you ask me to be your girl.” You teased with a laugh. He rolled his eyes jokingly before looking into your eyes with a soft, gentle look.

“Bella, will you be my girl?” He then asked, his voice so genuine and soft. You felt a smile spread on your face as you snaked your arms around his neck again.

“I would love to, Theo.” You said softly.

“Thank merlin I dropped my cigarettes that day, I would’ve never had the balls to speak to you otherwise.” Theodore let out in a sigh before he pulled you to him for another kiss.

“What does that mean?” You asked in between kisses.

“Don’t mind that now, bella.” He murmured before kissing you again, with much more intensity this time, but not before you let out happy giggles, making him smile against your lips.

Bonus scene:

You had been studying in the common room when you started to feel very stuffy, deciding that a walk through the castle would help with the antsy feeling. You had changed out of your school uniform, now sporting a pair of yoga pants and a large sweater. Your hair up in a ponytail and your glasses rested on your nose as you were strolling through the trophy room. When you walked around the corner that led out into the corridor you bumped into someone. With an “oof” you fell to the cold stone floor. A dull ache spread through your butt and hip as you rubbed it mumbling an “ouch” under your breath.

“Shit, fuck, sorry y/n.” A voice said above you as a large hand wrapped around your upper arm to help you up. When you looked up your eyes met the steely blue ones of Theodore as he steadied you with both his hands on your arms. The person who had spoken was his best friend, with whom you had bumped into. You tore your gaze from Theodore as you looked at Mattheo who was looking at you apologetically as he rubbed the back of his neck. You cracked a small smile at the ‘guilty school-boy’-look he had going on.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” You said, the smile still playing on your lips. Your eyes gazed over the other two boys standing there, Lorenzo and Blaise, a small smile still on your lips until Theodore pulled your attention back to him with a gentle squeeze on your arm.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently, looking at you with puppy-dog eyes. His look made your breath hitch again before you managed a smile at him and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You said softly and just as Theodore was about to answer something else caught your attention. It was Lorenzo and Blaise… acting out your interaction with Theodore… rather dramatically.

“My love, are you okay?” Blaise let out with a poor attempt at an Italian accent, burning passion in his voice as he violently grabbed Lorenzo, turning the boy to him, his other hand clutching his chest. Lorenzo, ever the actor, dramatically put the back of his hand on his forehead, feigning exhaustion as he leaned back into Blaise.

“Oh yes, I’m so okay.” He somewhat gasped dramatically as Blaise put on a pained expression. You were in total shock, you could feel the blush violently rise on your cheeks, and you didn’t dare glance back at Theodore who stood somewhat behind you. Your eyes did however catch Mattheo’s. One look. One look was all it took for you and Mattheo to absolutely lose it. Mattheo was absolutely howling with laughter, clutching his stomach as he doubled over. You were laughing so hard tears streamed down your face as you hid it in part embarrassment behind your hands. You saw how Mattheo had to sit down on the floor, his legs not being able to keep him up as he laughed at the complete idiocy of his two friends. You soon joined him on the floor when you saw how Lorenzo and Blaise continued to act like a doting pair in love. Blaise had now moved onto fussing over Lorenzo’s sweater. You were sure you were now beet red in the face. But you had to admit that it was nice that it was due to another reason than just embarrassment.

When the two of you had calmed down a bit you dared to look back at Theodore who was positively trying to murder his friends with his eyes, a faint blush on his cheeks. You had to admit that he was cute with the blush. Your eyes met Mattheo’s again, and it took every ounce of self-control your body possessed to not start laughing again. Your eyes drifted back to Lorenzo and Blaise who were now taking the bow for their excellent performance, making you giggle again before looking up at Theodore.

“Come on Theodore, it was funny.” You said as you held your hand out for him to help you up. You didn’t know where this newfound confidence came from, but you didn’t question it as you were smiling broadly up at the boy before you. His large, warm hand wrapped around your own as he hoisted you up on your feet. Your back was turned to Lorenzo and Blaise, but you saw how Theodore sent them a glare that effectively meant “don’t fucking start”.

“I’m glad you enjoy the comedic abilities of my friends.” He muttered to you, his cheeks still the faintest shade of pink. You let out a giggle when you looked up at the tall boy before you.

[dream-girls-dream-girl]

instead of bitching why don’t we all just be thankful ao3 doesn’t have ads xxx

[baronessvonglitter]

Holiday Heat

Joel Miller x f!Reader | WC: 2.3K

Summary: Sharing a hotel room with a grumpy (and handsome) stranger while a storm makes travel inaccessible. What could possibly go wrong?

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Only one bed/forced proximity trope (with a dash of sunshine x grumpy because we love a cantankerous Joel). Age gap (reader is in her 20s, Joel's in his 50s). Strangers to lovers. Oral (f receiving). Sleeping together to stay warm. Unprotected p in v. Fingering. Reader has very little description apart from having hair long enough to get in her eyes. No use of y/n. Please lmk if I've forgotten anything!

Author's note: It was my pleasure to step in to gift this fic to @frannyzooey for the @pedrostories Secret Santa exchange! I hope you had a great holiday and have a wonderful new year, hon! ❤️Also, huge shoutout to @pedrorascal who so generously created the ✨gorgeous✨ banner for this story!

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

Wind and snow roar outside as the taxi pulls up to the last motel for the next hundred miles. The driver doesn't dare to drive any further in the snowstorm, and offers to bring you to a place where you and your fellow passenger, a gruff, unsmiling man named Joel, to stay warm and have a roof over your head.

"This place is a shithole," he grumbles as you're pulled to a stop.

"It's quaint," you say, refusing to let his sour attitude ruin what's left of your holidays.

You're both heading home for the holidays: you're returning from your senior year at college and he reluctantly admitted he's returning home as well from an extended trip north to visit his brother.

Despite the fact that you're both Austin citizens just trying to get back to your loved ones, Joel remains a total grinch. You've had to endure this man the entire drive from DFW airport. He sat in the aisle across from you on the flight down from Nashville, sighing and making exasperated grunts every time a baby cried or a young person took a selfie. His legs jittered with impatience. You took pity on him and offered him a CBD gummy, hoping to ease whatever stress he was under but he brushed you off with an annoyed groan.

When you found out there were no connecting flights to Austin, you and Joel were the last in line for a car rental. And of course, the last one was rented out to a couple in line ahead of you.

You saw this as an opportunity to help your fellow man, especially as it was the holidays. But all Joel did was shrug when you offered to split a taxi to whichever hotel was closest.

"It's not the Hilton, but it'll do for tonight," you tell him, persisting in your sunny outlook, hoping it will catch on.

The bored-looking eighty-year-old man in the motel office tells you that due to high demand and the inclement weather, there's only one room left, with a single bed.

"We'll take it," you bounce on the chance, much to Joel's chagrin, offering your credit card. Your surly traveling companion offers to split the room, but not without complaint.

"No way in hell am I sleeping on the floor," he says as soon as he steps into the room. There's a stale stench of cigarettes that the cinnamon air freshener on the small round table can't mask.

"Of course you're not. We'll just.. divide the bed. I'm good at staying on my side."

"You'd better be. I don't need you grabbin' onto me in the middle of the night 'cause you're havin' a nightmare or somethin'."

"You wish." It's the only thing you tell him that has some sting behind it.

"Just don't steal all the blankets, sweetheart. Gonna need 'em with this deep freeze comin' through."

"I'm gonna shower first if that's all right with you. I need to warm up." You grab your pajamas from your bag.

"Don't use up all the hot water," he calls out before you close the bathroom door.

"If there's no hot water to spare we could shower together." You glance behind your shoulder, eager to see his reaction.

The look on Joel's face is priceless as he nearly chokes on his next breath. "What? Are you out of your mind? There's no way I'm showerin' with you!"

You grin. "Gotcha."

You step out, hair still damp, towel wrapped around you, shyly going back into the room. "I forgot my panties," you say softly, going to your bag.

Joel tries not to stare too much, but it's a challenge.

"Turn around," you tell him so you can have privacy.

"Go change in the bathroom."

"I had a hot shower, it's still humid. I can't get dressed in there. Just close your eyes."

He grunts but accedes to your request, leaning back against the headboard as he puts his hands over his eyes. His heart is pumping madly, listening to the rustle of clothes as you get changed. He tries to distract himself with other thoughts instead of wondering what the shape of your body looks like.

Relief is a brief respite before he sees what you're wearing to sleep. He thought you'd wear something comfortable and decent, like those fuzzy plaid pajamas girls your age like to wear during the holidays, but instead you're in an oversized t-shirt, the hem down to the middle of your thighs, revealing your bare legs. He puts a pillow on his lap to hide his growing erection.

You get onto your side of the bed. "The shower's free if you want it."

Joel swallows hard before he forces himself to think about something other than you in the bed with him. "Yeah, uh, thanks," he says gruffly, his voice strained. He quickly gets up, trying to hide his aroused state, and gathers his pajamas before he goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. For good measure he locks it.

"Get it together, Miller," he tells himself, splashing some cold water on his face. He can't deny the effect you have on him, but he also knows it's impossible to act on it. He barely knows you. You could have a boyfriend or a husband for all he knows, though there's no ring on your finger.

He showers, hoping to stay in as long as he can to avoid you. But it's a shitty motel after all, and soon he runs out of hot water and has to rinse the shampoo from his hair under the icy cold spray.

Dried off and clothed he steps back into the room and finds you on the bed, rubbing lotion onto your arms and legs. The sight nearly takes his breath away. He tries to look away but his eyes are drawn to your glistening skin.

"Good shower?" you ask, catching a whiff of his body wash, something fresh and woodsy. From lowered lashes you check out how he looks in his sweatpants.

"Yeah," he replies. "Outta hot water though. Since you used it all up."

You roll your eyes and go back to applying your lotion.

"Smells nice," he says, sitting close to you.

"Thanks. It's coconut."

The sweet scent hangs in the air as he watches you spread the white lotion across your skin, giving rise to lewd thoughts about what other thick white substances would go well on you. The coconut aroma, the sight of you touching yourself, the forced proximity and having to share a bed.. it's all sensory overload.

"I like coconut," his voice is thick with restraint.

Your hands stop and you hand him the bottle, your eyes meeting his in a silent understanding. "Will you help me?"

He takes the lotion from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours a moment. "Where do you want me to start?"

"My legs," you tell him, spreading them slightly as you lean back.

Heat pools in Joel's groin and he bites his lip to stifle a groan. He squeezes out some lotion onto his palm and kneads it into your shin and calf, his touch gentle but firm, lightly massaging. He spreads it up to your knee, brushing against the tickly spot right beneath and smirking when you try to stifle a sound.

"Feels nice," you eke out.

"Your skin is so smooth," he murmurs, eyes drinking in the sight of you looking both relaxed and wanting. His hands move over your thighs as they part and he realizes you're not wearing panties after all. His brain goes haywire for a moment, unsure if he should call attention to your undressed state or not.

The scent of your arousal reaches him, and he dares a glance between your thighs. His dick pulses when he sees the telltale sheen at the apex of your inner thighs. His eyes meet yours and there's a charge, a current that passes between you.

"You have no idea how much I want you right now," he rasps, his voice thick with desire.

It's too much, too fast, but the part of you that doesn't care wins out, falling for his low, silky remark.

"Joel.. put your mouth on me," you whisper, legs parting further, an open invitation.

His eyes darken to nearly black, all semblance of restraint breaks as he leans forward, his lips hovering just above your skin, his breath warm on your inner thighs. "As you wish, sugar," he rumbles, placing a soft kiss on your soft flesh. His kisses move higher and higher up, and he gently moves your legs over his shoulders as his kisses get more persistent.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as his hands find their way under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your belly and the mounds of your breasts, your nipples hard in anticipation. Willfully trapped beneath him, you're at his mercy when he finally buries his face in your cunt, gripping your thighs to hold you in place.

His tongue runs over your soft, saturated folds, tasting you and listening to the sounds of your moans and gasps. He laps at your softly, then adding more pressure, dipping his tongue inside and swiping at your clit, teasing you just enough to get you screaming for more. A strange sense of tenderness surfaces among the lust of the moment as he brings you to life. There's no denying there's something inherently sweet and affectionate about the lascivious act.

Joel can't get enough of your taste, your smell, the way you feel against his mouth as you desperately grind against him. He's lost in the moment, his every sense consumed by you. Hearing you panting his name he hums against you, the vibrations adding to your pleasure, and he gladly licks up the nectar you gush out.

"Oh! Joel! Keep doing that!" you gasp, tugging at his greying locks. His mouth is hot against your pussy, tongue stiff and pointed, soft and wet. The pleasure seems neverending. Just when you think you know the pattern, he switches it up, licking harder or softer, tracing shapes with the tip of his tongue. "Please.. don't stop.. I'm gonna.."

Pleasure blossoms from within, too big to keep in, and you come apart beneath him.

There's a feeling of ownership, something dominant and masculine and protective in Joel as he works you through another one, his hips rutting against the bed in need of his own release. At last he moves over you, bodies pressed close as he kisses you for the first time. It's sweet and soft, the taste of you still on his tongue, tangy and sweet.

"Thank you," you sigh, your foreheads touching, breath mingling.

"No need to thank me, sweetheart," he says quietly, brushing loose strands of hair from your forehead.

You're still feeling the lingering traces of pleasure, but even you can feel the cold seeping into the room. "Get under the covers with me," you tell him, and giggle at the speed with which he pulled both of you under the western-themed duvet.

Clothes fly off, thrown over the sides of the bed, landing in haphazard piles. Joel slots himself between your legs again. Desire grows bright in him, making him feel like he's burning from the inside out, starving for the taste and feel of you.

Your body is a perfect fit for him, the glorious slide of his flesh into yours causing you both to cry out. He's completely sheathed within you, surrounded by your perfect, tight, wet heat. Thrusting slow at first, he watches your expressions, planting little kisses on your cheeks and eyelids, drinking up your moans as his tongue slips between your lips.

"More," you whisper as his lips graze your neck, gently biting your ear lobe, and you're rewarded with a more forceful pace as he spreads you open, angling your hips up to get in deeper, finding that sacred spot within that makes you see God. He plants one hand on the headboard above you for leverage as his other hand kneads your breast, tweaking your nipple as your own hands grip his sides, digging your nails in as you blissfully curse with each push of his hips.

"That's the spot, ain't it?" he grunts above you. "Right.. here."

Stars collide behind your eyes as he gently glides over your G-spot. His lips curve into a smile when you clench around him, but he slips out before he can come, replacing himself with three fingers. "Come on them, sweetheart. Come on my fingers then you can have my cock again."

You're lost in bliss as he glides his fingers in, curving to get that spongy spot, eager to make you scream. You bring your own fingers to your clit, gently pinching and rubbing until you feel your climax begin in your extremities, gathering pressure within until it's released, your orgasm shattering you with Joel's name on your lips.

He gives you a moment to come back before he lays down, letting you straddle him. Though he was just inside you, it's still a stretch to fit around him, and you slide down slowly before you're comfortable enough to start riding.

"There you go, darlin'," he murmurs, large hands on your hips. "Do what you need to do to come on my cock, baby."

In a delicious haze of pleasure you ride him, switching up the pace, going slow and deep before slamming down on him, making him groan as he tries to hold back. Your slick is pooling on his groin, coating his balls. Holding your hips steady he rams up into you, eager for you to come all over him again.

You're positively feral at this point, shaking and crying out as you come harder than any other time before, and Joel follows soon after, spilling inside of you, his dick twitching.

Hours later you're curled up together under the thick blankets, sharing and savoring what warmth you've generated.

"Thank god for this storm," Joel murmurs, holding your back close to his chest as he spoons you.

"That's the first positive outlook you've had all day," you smirk, snuggling against him.

dividers by @cafekitsune 👑

[yoonieper]

For the Birds Masterlist | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

♡ Genre: angst, fluff, smut, this is a slow burn! 

♡ Spotify |◁ Playlist (feel free to recommend songs!) ▷| Apple Music

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! Please read with caution ⚠️!

♡ Key: ❁ fluff | ❅ angst | ❥ smut

⚠️ This series contains depictions of possibly triggering topics such as dealing with symptoms of depression. Any chapters that could be especially triggering, will be marked with the emoji at the beginning!

Before you start…

For the Birds Aesthetics

The Contract (Important!)

Prologue | ❅, ❥

Part 1 | ❅, ❥

Part 2 | ❅

Part 3 | ❅, ❥

Part 4 | ❅, ❥

Part 5 | ❅, ❥

Part 6 | ❅, ❥

Part 7– Coming September 30th

Part 8– Coming October 15th

Part 9– Coming October 30th

Part 10– Coming November 15th

Part 11– Coming November 30th

Part 12– Coming January 15th

Part 13– Coming January 30th

More Coming Soon After a Small Intermission!

*Note these dates may be subject to change— currently the prologue through part 13 has been completed. However depending on holidays, other fic postings, or life events that might come in the way, the dates may vary slightly. In general though 'For the Birds' will be posted bimonthly, once in the middle of the month and a second time at the end of the month. For specifics, I will post announcements letting you guys know about any change and also will edit the date on the masterlist!

Asks related to For the Birds

For other works and updates regarding the series please follow and refer to my masterlist!

[pinksatinpanties]

me reading y'all's votes:

[skeletonea]

Me on my way to reading all the fics with the hashtag "kinktober" in it.

[theosbae]

mattheo takes care of u

mattheo’s hands are gentle as they work the shampoo through your hair, fingers massaging your scalp in slow, soothing circles. the warm water runs down your back, the scent of vanilla and something faintly musky filling the air—his shampoo, because he insisted on using his.

“you always make such a mess of yourself,” he murmurs, amusement lacing his voice. his knuckles graze the back of your neck as he tilts your head slightly, making sure he gets every bit of soap worked in.

you hum, eyes fluttering shut, sinking deeper into the bath. “m’not that bad.”

mattheo chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple, fingers still combing through the suds. “you’ve got ink on your wrist, sugar. and… is that flour on your cheek?”

your lips twitch, but you don’t argue. instead, you lean into his touch, letting him take care of you. he rinses your hair slowly, using his hands to pour the warm water over your head, careful not to let it drip into your eyes.

when he’s done, he strokes a wet strand away from your face, his dark eyes soft as they take you in. “there,” he murmurs. “all clean.”

you smile up at him, tugging him down by the collar of his shirt. “you take such good care of me.”

his lips curl into a smirk as he brushes his nose against yours. “someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

you laugh, pulling him in for a kiss, the water sloshing slightly as you move. mattheo doesn’t mind. if anything, he’s already thinking about how he’s gonna get just as messy as you.

[jincapableoflove]

A Jar Full of Us | one-shot (TEASER)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Released on: February 14th, 2025 (Valentine's Day Special)

Genre/Tags: best friend! jungkook, best friend! reader, college! au, idiots to lovers, best friends to lovers, angst, fluff, arguments, misunderstandings, potential smut

Summary: You never meant for him to find them. Hundred little confessions, folded away, never meant to be read. But now, they’re in his hands. And Jungkook—your best friend—knows everything. But he doesn’t say a word. He just watches you, with that same unreadable expression, like he’s waiting for something. And this Valentine’s Day, you might just have to find out what.

Inspired by: To All the Boys I've Loved Before

Word count: 10.2k

Teaser word count: 204

Warnings: none.

A/N: I love this trope sm and I wanted to write something for Valentine's Day. This fic is my baby and it will be out on Feb 14th! there will be a taglist for this fic. if ur interested to be a part of it then drop a message below this post or send me an ask!

Your stomach sank.

Maybe his roommate took it upstairs? Yeah. That had to be it. Maybe it was sitting untouched on the kitchen counter, still wrapped, still safe, still unseen.

You latched onto that sliver of hope as you rushed up the stairs two at a time, unwilling to wait for the elevator. By the time you reached his floor, your hands were shaking. You raised a fist and knocked on the door, urgency making your knuckles sting.

No response.

You knocked again, harder this time.

Then—finally—you heard shuffling from inside. A few footsteps. The creak of the floorboards. A pause.

The door swung open.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Standing right in front of you, framed in the dim light of his apartment, wearing an oversized grey hoodie that draped over his frame in a way that shouldn't have been so unfairly attractive. His dark hair was slightly damp, messy from a shower, strands falling into his eyes. His lips were parted in surprise, his brows slightly furrowed, and the expression on his face—confused yet soft, dangerously soft—made your already erratic heartbeat lurch violently.

But then, your gaze dropped to his hands.

And the world stopped.

The box.

The open box.

Your box.

There will be a taglist for this fic and if you are interested to be a part of it please drop me a message below this post or send me an ask!

(taglist closed)

Full one-shot out now: READ HERE

[pinkiemachine]

The Great Camera Caper PART 20

[raekensluver]

betrayal's embrace

description: you and theodore nott have been in a relationship and everything was going perfect until one day theo comes to you, regret in his eyes and he tells you he made a mistake.

pairing: cheater!theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: angst, cheating (theo to r), your bestfriend is a shitty friend, arguing, mattheo and draco eavesdropping.

song rec: be alright by dean lewis- "and then you say to me you made a dumb mistake"

w.c: 1.3k

an: this song inspired me a little too much...

the slytherin common room lay eerily quiet, the fireplace crackling softly as it fought against the midnight chill. the dim light from the candles above-cast dancing shadows on the polished floor, and the emerald walls whispered secrets that only the ancient portraits knew. you sat curled up on a plush armchair, the cold leather sending shivers down your spine as you stared into the flickering flames. the emptiness of the room was a stark contrast to the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind.

theo's footsteps echoed through the silence, each one a drumbeat of dread. your heart leaped as he descended the staircase, his eyes meeting yours. the weight of his gaze bore into you, carrying the burden of his confession. the space between you felt like a chasm that had suddenly opened, threatening to swallow the very air you breathed.

his usually confident stride was now tentative, as if the very stones of the common room might judge him. his eyes searched yours, looking for a glimmer of understanding or forgiveness, but all he found was a wall of cold, hard anger. the silence grew heavier with each step he took, until he was standing in front of you, his breath shallow and eyes pleading.

you felt the heat of betrayal burn in your chest, and your voice trembled as you spoke. "how could you?" the words were barely a whisper, but they filled the room like a shout. theo's face fell, his shoulders dropping with the weight of his own guilt. "i don't know," he murmured, his voice cracking. "it just…happened."

your anger grew, pulsing through your veins like molten lava. you shot to your feet, the chair scraping against the floor. "that's not good enough!" you yelled, your voice echoing off the stone walls. "you didn't just trip and fall into her arms!" you clenched your fists so tightly, your knuckles turned white.

his eyes searched the room, as if seeking an escape from the accusation in your gaze. "it was a mistake," he whispered, the desperation in his voice clawing at the edges of your heart. "i never meant to hurt you." but the words felt hollow, like a parchment torn in two.

you felt the rage building, a storm gathering strength. "you didn't just hurt me," you spat, the taste of bile rising in your throat. "you destroyed everything. my trust, my friendship…you shattered it all!" your voice grew louder, each syllable a shard of ice thrown at his chest. "what we had…it's gone. it's dead!"

theo took a step back, his eyes wide with fear. "please," he begged, reaching for you, but you slapped his hand away. "please, let me explain." his voice was raw, desperate.

you stepped closer to him, your eyes flashing with anger. "there's nothing to explain," you hissed. "you made a choice, and now you have to live with it." you turned away, your eyes burning with unshed tears. "i can't…i won't forgive you."

theo's hand hovered in the space where you had been, his eyes never leaving your back. "i know," he murmured, his voice a defeated whisper. "but i need you to understand. it was never about you. it was just…i don't know, a moment of weakness."

you scoffed, your voice thick with pain. "weakness? that's what you call it? that's a pathetic excuse, theo." you whipped around to face him, your eyes brimming with anger and hurt.

his expression crumpled, and he took a step forward, his hands outstretched. "i know," he said hoarsely. "i know it's not enough, but i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry."

you stared at him for a long moment, your eyes unblinking. the flames in the fireplace danced, casting an angry light on his face. "sorry doesn't cut it," you said finally, your voice cold as ice. "not this time."

his eyes searched yours, looking for a hint of the warmth that had once been there. "what can i do?" he asked, his voice barely audible. "anything. i'll do anything to make it right."

you took a deep breath, the scent of the fireplace mixing with the sharp tang of your own anger. "it's not about making it right," you said, your voice steely. "it's about fixing the mess you've made."

his eyes fell to the floor, and he nodded slowly. "i know," he murmured. "i just don't know how."

you looked away, the fire's warmth offering no comfort. "start by telling me why," you said, your voice tight. "why her? why now?"

theo swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing. "it's complicated," he began, but you cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"don't you dare give me that," you snapped. "i've had enough of your complications. it's simple. you cheated."

just as the tension in the room reached a boiling point, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted the volatile silence. mattheo and draco appeared at the bottom of the staircase, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern as they took in the scene before them. mattheo's eyes widened at the sight of theo's distress, while draco's gaze shifted between the two of you, his eyebrows furrowing in curiosity.

"what's going on?" mattheo asked, his voice tentative.

you didn't even look at them, your eyes remained fixed on theo. "this is between us," you said, your voice tight with anger. "leave."

mattheo took a step back, his eyes wide with shock. "but-"

"i said leave!" you snapped, the words cutting through the air like a knife. "this doesn't concern you."

mattheo and draco exchanged a quick glance before reluctantly backing away, their footsteps retreating up the staircase. the moment they were out of earshot, the dam holding back your emotions shattered. tears streamed down your face, each one feeling like a piece of your soul breaking away. "how could you?" you choked out, your voice trembling with pain. "how could you do this to me?"

theo's eyes filled with despair as he watched you crumble. "i didn't mean for it to happen," he whispered, his voice thick with regret. "it just…it just did."

you wiped the tears away, your face a mask of anger. "you didn't mean for it to happen?" you echoed. "you didn't mean to kiss her? to touch her? to betray me?"

his head hung low, and he nodded, his voice barely a murmur. "i didn't. i swear. it just…it just happened. i didn't think about you. i didn't think about us."

you felt the anger coil tighter in your chest, your fists clenching at your sides. "that's the problem, theo," you said, each word punctuated with a searing pain. "you didn't think. you didn't care about the consequences. you didn't care about me."

his eyes snapped up to meet yours, filled with a desperation that only made your anger burn brighter. "i did care," he insisted, his voice a broken whisper. "i do care. you're everything to me."

but his words felt like ash in your mouth. "not enough," you spat, turning away from him. "not if you could so easily throw it all away for a fleeting moment with her." you stumbled out of the common room, your legs shaking with the effort to hold you upright.

as you made your way to the stairs, you collided with draco and mattheo, who were lingering awkwardly in the shadows. their expressions were a mix of shock and sympathy, and you knew they had heard every word. "move," you said through gritted teeth, pushing past them.

mattheo reached out to grab your arm, his eyes filled with concern. "are you okay?" he whispered, his voice thick with the same shock that mirrored your own feelings.

you yanked your arm away, the anger still burning in your eyes. "i'm fine," you lied, your voice shaking. "just…leave me alone."

you didn't wait for their response, you didn't want to see the pity in their eyes. you took the stairs two at a time, your heart racing as you reached the portrait hole leading to your dormitory. once inside, you slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating through the corridor like a gunshot. the portrait swung back into place, leaving you in the welcoming embrace of darkness.

edited 8.20.24

[birdiewritessometimes]

Tutor

A/N: Soft hours ;-; this goes out to all my academic over achievers out there, girl me too. One beautiful anon who requested soft Matt or soft Theo got me thinking about this! Also please don’t skip meals, food is fuel <3

Also, also, I’ve heard your demands, and I have added a summary!

This has been a struggle tbh, I love it but I’m also not happy with it. Oh well, I hope you guys enjoy it <3

Summary: As Professor Flitwick assign you to tutor Theodore Nott in charms you two develop a strange friendship that brings a new set of friends into your life. Theodore helps you see that there might be more to life than just studying in the library every day.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw!reader

Themes/warnings: Reader is overworking herself, skipping meals, self-doubt, sleep-troubles, cursing, fluff, found family, clichés (but oh what I love them), kissing, Italian pet names (Italians, I’ve tried to do some research, and I hope I didn’t butcher them, please let me know if I did though!), is this qualified as a slow burn?,  mentions of a dead parent.

Word count: 10 000-ish

Please do not copy or translate my work!

“But Professor, please. I really need to focus on my own work.” You pleaded with your charms professor and your head of house, Professor Flitwick. He was a short, clever man. You really liked him; he was a good teacher and a good head of house. Which is why you were feeling slightly guilty for pleading with him not to assign you to be a tutor.

“I’m sorry Miss l/n, I’m afraid you’re the best one for the job. Mr. Nott really needs an outstanding in his OWL in charms. Professor Snape asked me to help make it happen, and I have no doubt you are more than capable.” Flitwick said, an encouraging smile on his face. You felt your shoulders sag in defeat.

“Are you sure you can’t ask anybody else?” You asked, your last simmer of hope to be able to study undisturbed faded as you saw your professors head shake no.

“Alright, I’ll do it.” You said in defeat. Professor Flitwick smiled up at you from his seat behind his wooden desk.

“Excellent Miss l/n!” He said as he clapped his hands together. He paused when he saw your defeated expression, “Oh, Miss l/n, please try to see this as a learning opportunity, maybe young Mr. Nott could teach you something too.” He added, a sympathetic smile on his face as he surveyed your defeated form.

“Okay, I will.” You said, trying to brighten your own voice, “I’ll see you later, Professor.” You added while giving him a small smile before turning around to leave his office. Professor Flitwick’s office led out into the charms classroom that resided on the third floor, in the charms corridor. The classroom was dimly lit, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow on the wooden floor in the middle of the classroom. The benches were empty except for one where a tall boy sat. His legs were sprawled out in front of him, effectively making the chair look small beneath him. He was fidgeting with the ring that sat on his index finger. His head shot up when he heard your footsteps echo on the wooden floorboards.

“I’ll tutor you every Tuesday and Thursday, four o’clock in the library, don’t be late.” You said after you stopped right in front of the desk he was sitting in. He was looking up at you with his steely blue eyes, a tired expression in his eyes. He gave you a short nod as he stopped fidgeting with his ring.

“Good, I’ll, uh, see you then.” You said, giving what you thought was a friendly smile. The least you could do was to at least try to be friendly, it wasn’t his fault that you were in this situation. Come to second thought, it kind of was, but you can’t blame the guy for being stupid.

“Right, see you.” He said after he cleared his throat. His voice was deep and rich. You noticed that he didn’t have a British accent like most students in the school. You couldn’t quite place your finger on what accent it was though. But it added to the smoothness of his voice making you wonder why he didn’t speak more often. You gave him another small smile before turning around to head to the library.

The library was quiet when you entered, some students were scattered around the room. The smell of old books and burning fires hit your nose as you walked towards your usual space. It was in the corner, near one of the fires making it the perfect spot for studying, away from the cold draft that usually swept through the castle regardless of season. You spent most of your free time studying, finding yourself lost in books and books about different magical topics. You did this mostly because your dream was to one day become an unspeakable. The Department of Mysteries intrigued you but the way there meant top grades and hard work. And that’s just what you did, worked hard and got top grades. But that also meant that you had to spend your free time in the library, studying.

You sat down in one of the cushioned chairs around the table, gently placing your Ravenclaw robe on the seat next to you along with your bag. You pulled out the ancient runes-book. The worn leather rough against your fingers as you placed it on the table along with your quill, inkpot and some parchment. You opened the book at the bookmark and got to work. For hours you poured over the runes, their translations and writing down their meanings. The only thing that reminded you of the time was your back being stiff and your butt numb. Taking a glance at your watch you noticed that it was almost time for curfew. With a yawn you stood up. You quickly packed your things, grabbed your robe and hurried through the castle and up to Ravenclaw tower. After you got ready for bed, you fell asleep the second your head hit your pillow, sleeping through yet another restless night.

The next day you awoke feeling tired. It was a Tuesday which meant tutoring with Theodore after your last lesson of the day. Noticing the time, and that breakfast was soon to be over, you hurriedly got ready. You added light makeup to hide the dark circles that was accumulating under your eyes from another night where it felt like you didn’t sleep. Collecting your books for the day you dashed out of your dorm and hurried to the great hall. When you entered you found your seat next to the girls you share your dorm with. They were by no means your friends, but you could eat and make small talk with them, which was good enough for you. When you had quickly eaten a piece of toast you once again dashed away towards your classes for the day. The lessons went by quickly, like usual. Before you knew it lunchtime came. You actually had time to eat your meal calmly before you headed to your last two lessons for the day. These lessons went by as quickly as the ones in the morning did. Maybe it was because you had revised the material beforehand, or maybe time just went by quicker when you learned something.

It was a quarter to four when you walked into the familiar air of old books and warm fires of the library. You took your usual seat by the fire, placed your robes and bag on the chair next to you before picking up your copy of the Standard Book of Spells, grade 5, the large book heavy in your hands as you placed it on the table with a thud. You gently flickered through it as you waited for Theodore to show up. You refreshed your memory for some of the spells as you looked through the book. After around five minutes you heard low footsteps come nearer your spot by the warm fire, away from the chilly autumn breeze that seemed to drift through the castle. Looking up you saw Theodore approaching your table. His hair was its usual floppy self. He had rid himself of his Slytherin cloak, the material hanging over his forearm. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as well as loosened his tie and leaving the top button unbuttoned. You kept looking him over until he stood beside you, looking down at you.

“Hi.” You said softly as you gestured for him to sit. He gave you a nod of acknowledgement before placing his bag and cloak on a chair around the table before sitting down in the seat next to yours. You let him take his time packing up, he was early after all.

“So, is there anything in particular you want to start with?” You asked cautiously when he had placed his copy of the textbook on the table, along with a notebook, a quill and an inkpot.

“I’ve had problems with the locomotion charm.” He shrugged nonchalantly. So, he was not a talkative person, that’s fine, you thought. You were surprised by his honesty, though you by no means had an opinion on the boy beside you, you knew he was friends with a group of troublemaking boys. You had assumed he would wave it all off or say that he didn’t need your help, so when he admitted, although with some air of nonchalance, what he was struggling with it surprised you.

“Okay,” you nodded, “how about we start with that one and then revise the others?” You suggested as you flipped through the worn book to the page of the locomotion charm. You saw how Theodore nodded in agreement with your suggestion. You went over the basic theory of the charm, explaining things such as wand movement and what the spell was useful for. It took you around five minutes before you zipped closed your pencase, plopping it down before the tall, brooding boy next to you.

“Alright, enough chitchat, show me what you’ve got.” You said with what you hoped was an encouraging smile. Not that he was looking at you, he was busy sending an icy glare at your pink fuzzy pencase. He was looking like he was personally offended by its presence. You flicked your hair over your shoulder as you turned in your seat to face him.

“Okay, so what crimes has my pencase committed against you?” You asked, a playful note in your voice as you studied him. This seemed to pull him out of his staring match with the pencase as he raised an eyebrow at you in a silent question.

“Don’t look at me, it was you who was having a staring competition with an inanimate object.” You shrugged, a small giggle escaping you. You saw how he cracked the smallest of smiles at your comment. You had to admit that his smile was cute, really cute actually.

“Alright, come on, show me.” You nodded at your pencase again and his small smile fell. With a sigh he picked up his wand from the table. He cleared his throat as he pointed his wand at the fuzzy pencase in front of him.

“Locomoto pencase.” He said, his voice smoot and deep. He did the upwards motion with his wand, but nothing happened. You noticed right after he had said the incantation that he has mispronounced it. He let out a sigh of frustration as he looked away from you, embarrassed. You felt some sympathy for him as you placed a gentle hand on his arm, effectively making him look at you.

“Hey, you did good. You just didn’t pronounce the incantation correctly,” You said softly, a kind smile on your face, “it’s locomotor with an r.” You explained.

“Alright, let me try again.” He muttered, surprising you with his words. You nodded encouragingly, letting him try again. This time the pencase hovered for a while before falling down on the table in front of him with a low thud.

“See! Try concentrating more next time.” You said, excitement in your voice. Theodore flashed you that small smile again, making you feel warm inside, before trying the spell for the third time. He made the pencase move around the table for a while before it fell with a thud again.

“Good job Theodore!” You cheered him on, “how about some theory?” You suggested, to which he nodded. He placed his wand on the table, scooting back in his chair, sprawling his legs out as he picked up the leatherbound textbook in his large hands, effectively making it look weirdly small. Your eyes travelled up to his face and saw that he was already looking at you, an expectant look in his eyes. You quickly looked away from him as you cleared your throat. You felt a blush dust your cheeks when you heard a faint chuckle from the boy next to you. Straightening in your chair you started to explain some more in-depth theory. Time went on rather quickly as you quizzed Theodore on some things and asked him to explain some others back to you. He was improving quickly, making you feel somewhat proud of him. In the last moments before it was time for dinner, he practiced the charm once more on your pencase. This time the pencase zoomed up and down from the table, making it do flips and other tricks around the table before he stopped it right in front of you. The pencase fell on top of your book with a muted thud.

“Good job Theodore! Look at you!” You said, not being able to contain your enthusiasm. He let out a shy sort of chuckle at that as he averted his eyes from you.

“Thanks for helping me.” He mumbled, still looking away. His words stunned you as you turned your head to really look at him. He didn’t seem like his usual stoic, broody self. He seemed more embarrassed and defeated now, making the sympathy you had for him earlier to come back.

“Hey,” you said softy, placing your hand on his arm effectively making him look at you once again, “we all need a little bit of help from time to time, it’s nothing to worry about.” He looked at you, an unreadable look in his usually tired eyes. The background faded as your heartbeat sped up, making you feel warm inside.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, not tearing his eyes from yours. The air around you shifted as you looked into each other’s eyes, making your heartbeat race even more. The air around you became almost palpable as you sat there together.

“You’re welcome.” You breathed out. Your eye-contact broke when there was a loud thud from someone dropping a book somewhere in the library. Coming back to reality you straightened up as Theodore cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I’ll, uh, see you Thursday?” He said as he hurriedly put his things in his bag. You nodded at him.

“Yeah, see you Thursday.” You mumbled, giving him a small smile before he walked off to dinner. You slowly packed your things away in your bag before you made your way to the great hall for dinner as well. On your walk there he was on your mind. You wondered why he was so cold and quiet. Your mind drifted to his deep, smooth voice as you thought back to the tutoring session. And how he had beautiful eyes, cold, blue and tired, yet they intrigued you. Like he was pulling you into him. You were lost in thought when you arrived at the big oak doors that led to the great hall. You absentmindedly walked in and sat down at the long wooden table, next to the girls in your dormitory. You plated some beef stew and potatoes on the porcelain plate in front of you.

As you ate your eyes drifted over the great hall, scanning the groups of students who were chatting to each other excitedly. Your eyes soon drifted over the Slytherin table. The table was filled with students, some were chatting, others reading or just minding their own business. Your eyes then met the steely blue ones that belonged to Theodore. He caught you off guard, but you couldn’t seem to look away from him either. You sat there looking at each other for a moment, the background once again fading, before he looked away first, laughing at something his friends said. You turned back to your food, eating as you thought about him.

He remained in your thoughts during the next day. You found yourself thinking about him when you were eating your meals, when you were walking to classes, and you even found your thoughts drifting to him when you were studying. You were wondering things about him that you have never cared about before with others. Like where he grew up? Did he have any siblings? What was his parents like? While you found yourself thinking more about him you started to notice him more around the castle too, noticing him in classes or that your paths crossed on your way to different lessons.

The day had passed quickly, now with your thoughts occupied by both Theodore and school. You had just finished dinner and were on your way towards the library to get in some more studying before bed. When you entered the entrance hall you heard rowdy voices from a group of boys and when you lifted your gaze you saw the Slytherin quidditch team. You assumed they were heading to the quidditch pitch to practice since they were walking towards the great doors. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of being outside right now. The rain was whipping against the windows of the castle as the winds were harsh. Your eyes fell on Theodore who were walking next to his friend, Mattheo Riddle. You never thought you would find a quidditch player attractive but by judging from the leap your heart did when you saw him in his uniform you found yourself proven wrong.

Pictures of Theodore in his emerald green quidditch robes, his broom propped up on his shoulder, flooded your brain as you walked to the library. None of the boys had noticed you when they had stridden across the entrance hall and out into the stormy weather. Opening the doors to the library you were immediately enveloped in a warm hug of burning fires and old books. You slowly made your way to your usual seat in the far back corner. The wooden chair scraped against the floor as you took your seat on the cushioned seat. You pulled out the leather-bound transfiguration book, opting to read up on the topic Professor McGonagall discussed during the transfiguration lesson you had earlier during the day. The rain was smattering against the window next to the fireplace, the sound mingling with the cracks and pops of the burning wood in the fire making you relax as you settled in your seat to study the whole evening. You worked long into the hours of the evening, your numb butt once again reminding you of curfew, making you hastily pack up your books and other materials before making your way to bed.

Thursday went by quickly, lessons flying by in a haste and before you knew it you were seated in the library, a quarter to four in the afternoon, flipping through the Standard Book of Spells, grade 5 again. It was a particularly cold day today, making you wear your Ravenclaw sweater over your button up to shield yourself from the cold mid-November air. The fire next to your table seemed to nothing to keep the chill at bay. You sent a glare at it as you shivered once more, trying to urge it to make the room hotter, or else.

“Look who’s now having a staring contest with an inanimate object.” The deep voice of Theodore pulled you out of your thoughts about threatening a fire, you really needed a good night’s sleep. You looked to the side of you and saw how Theodore plopped down in his chair, his fluffy hair flopping on his forehead in the process. He was wearing his Slytherin uniform in his usual dishevelled way, his robes draped over his arm once again.

“What did that fire do to you, huh?” He asked, a small smirk on his lips when he turned back to look at you, the Standard Book of Spells in his hands.

“It didn’t keep me warm.” You said, your teeth clattering slightly as you spoke. You were rubbing your arms with your hands, trying to warm yourself with the friction. Theodore let out a huff-like chuckle.

“Come on y/n, it’s not that cold.” He said, the smirk slightly wider now, making you smile lightly at him. It seemed like he was more comfortable around you this time, already talking more than he did the last time you met.

“It is, but that’s no- hey!” You let out when he stood up and before you knew it, he had grabbed his robes that he had hung over the back of one of the chairs around the table and draped it over your shoulders. His action stunned you as he pulled the material tighter around your shoulders, fixing it.

“Where did you put your own robes?” He muttered as he sat down in his seat again, looking at you expectantly for an answer. Coming back from your momentary chock you looked at him, sure a blush was on your cheeks.

“I forgot them in my dorm.” You mumbled, now feeling the heat of the blush on your cheeks. Your fingers moved to clutch the woolly fabric of his winter robes, subconsciously pulling it closer around you as his cologne hit your nose. It smelled fresh, like freshly laundered clothes but it had a hint of citrus and the obvious cigarette smell that lingered on the garment. The smell was surprisingly comforting as it surrounded you like a hug. Theodore let out a chuckle at your answer to his question.

“So, what are we doing today, teach?” He then asked, a tone on nonchalance in his voice as he turned back to face straight forward. The nickname made you smile, it made you grateful that he was trying to be friendly too.

“I was thinking that we really perfect the locomotion charm, you know so it really sticks.” You suggested. Theodore nodded as he picked up his wand. He was more eager today than he was last Tuesday, it made you smile as you zipped up your pencase again and plopped it on the table before him. He cleared his throat before performing the spell. You sat next to him as you looked on as he made your pencase move around on the table. It seemed like he lost concentration once because he dropped the pencase. But you encouraged him to go again, and he did. After he was done making your pencase perform circus tricks on the table he tried the charm on something heavier, your stack of schoolbooks that you had placed on the table for later. He had no problem making them move around at his will as he performed the charm.

Tutoring Theodore was easier than you thought, he seemed to have no problem learning and perfecting the spells when you were working on them together. He took his time and perfected the locomotion charm just as you had suggested, even going so far as to answer every question you asked him about it correctly. You felt proud of him when your tutoring session came to an end.

“Really good job Theodore!” You beamed at him, the feelings of happiness and pride taking over you. He smiled shyly as he thanked you, not being used to the praise that you were giving him. You might have been seeing things, but you were sure you saw a faint blush on the boy’s cheeks from your complement. As it was time for dinner he stood up and slowly packed away his things.

“Oh, right, thank you for letting me borrow your robes, Theodore.” You smiled as you started to shrug of the garment that had been keeping you warm the two hours you had been working together. He shook his head at you, making you pause.

“You can keep it for tonight if you want, I have a couple of others.” He said, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets and looked down at his feet. You felt a blush creep up on your face again.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you going to be cold?” You asked shyly making him look at you, that small smirk on his face again.

“Nah, I’m good, you look like you need it more.” He said, his tone considerably lighter than before.

“I’ll give it back to you tomorrow?” You suggested to which he shrugged his shoulders somewhat nonchalantly.

“That’s fine, honestly it’s no stress.” He said as he hoisted his bag on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Theodore.” You smiled at him gratefully as you pulled his cloak tighter around your body again.

“It’s fine, bella.” He said casually, but as he said the nickname it clicked in your head.

“You’re Italian?” You blurted out as he was about to turn around to leave. He raised an eyebrow at you, the smirk back on his face again.

“I am, why?” He asked, somewhat amused by your outburst. You started to feel stupid by your actions, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“I, uh, have been trying to figure out where your accent’s form…” You trailed off, feeling more stupid by the second. He let out a chuckle at this.

“My mum was Italian; I moved here when I was 10.” He explained but your mind got stuck on ‘was’. His mum was Italian, not is. He had lost his mum. The thought weighed on your mind as you looked up at him as he stood beside your chair. You weren’t sure on what to say to this. You saw how his smirk had dropped slightly when he had mentioned his mum as well, it was obviously a painful topic for him.

“Oh, I’m sorry Theodore.” You said softly, feeling heartbroken for him. He gave you a half-hearted smile.

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago.” He shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant. You gave him a weak smile, still feeling very sorry for him. He gave you a half smile back before clearing his throat.

“Well, I got to go to dinner,” He said, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, “see you, bella.” He said, his small smirk back on his face again, making you smile back at him.

“See you, Theodore.” You said softly before he turned around and walked towards the exit of the library. You looked after him until he was out of your line of sight before you reluctantly turned back to your books, picking up your textbook on the goblin rebellions. You had an essay due next week and decided now would be a good time to start writing it. Once again you worked into the long hours of the evening before you decided that enough was enough and made your way to Ravenclaw tower. Theodores cloak was heavy and warm against your shoulders as you walked through the corridors and up the staircases that lead to Ravenclaw tower. When you arrived at your dorm you folded the cloak neatly before getting ready for bed.

When you awoke Friday morning you were surprised that you felt rested for the first time in a long time. You felt like your mood were better than normal, the usual stress you felt now better. You got ready, collected your books for the day and grabbed Theodores robes before you went down to breakfast, assuming you would see him there, but you were wrong. No big deal, he maybe overslept, and you were just handing him his robes back, you could do that at any time. Throughout the day you looked for Theodore in the crowds, classes and during the meals. It was now dinnertime, and you hadn’t seen him all day. As you walked towards the library after dinner, you decided to actually go to the quidditch match to give him back his robes tomorrow. It was the first game of the season, Slytherin against Hufflepuff and you knew Theodore was on the Slytherin quidditch team alongside his friends.

After another long night of studying you awoke Saturday morning, feeling tired once more. You dragged yourself out of your warm bed, feeling shivers go through your body as your feet hit the cold floor. You made your bed, making sure the royal blue cover laid neatly over your bed before you tied back the blue curtains with the bronze cords. You looked out of the window to see the weather, it looked like a crisp day, the grounds were covered in glittering white frost, but no snow to be seen and the sky was clear. If you had to guess this had to be optimal quidditch conditions. You picked out a warm, comfortable outfit, bringing a warm jacket, mittens and earmuffs to keep warm in the high quidditch stands. Topping it all off with your Ravenclaw scarf. When you arrived at breakfast most of the students had left, probably to get warmer clothes for the match. You ate a piece of toast and had a cup of warm coco before you started to make your way to the stands. You were right, it was very cold out, you were thanking yourself for brining such warm clothing as the icy winds swept through the high stands where you were standing along the rest of your house.

You were standing next to the girls with whom you shared your dorm, Theodore’s robes neatly folded in your mitten clad hands. You made small talk with them as you waited for the match to start. The spectators erupted in cheers (and boos) as the two teams made their way onto the pitch. The seventh year Slytherin captain shook hands with Hufflepuffs captain Cedric Diggory, a handsome sixth year. You saw how both teams mounted their brooms as your eyes scanned the Slytherin team for Theodore. You found him just as they kicked off, he was soaring towards the Slytherin goal posts. He was a keeper. You heard Madam Hootch’s whistle signalling that the game had begun but your eyes were on him the entire game. He was unbelievable. He caught almost every ball, only letting in one or two goals, you weren’t counting. You couldn’t help but think about how good he looked in his green quidditch robes, hair windswept and his usually tired eyes determined. The Slytherin team were making goal after goal and they were leading by so much that, after about two hours, when Cedric had caught the snitch Slytherin still won by sixty points.

You saw how the Slytherin team were cheering on Theodore and Blaise, one of the chasers that did the most goals, when you started to make your way down to the pitch along with the rest of the spectators. You slowly made your way onto the pitch, feeling out of your element and uncertain what to do you decided to stand slightly to the side to let the boys celebrate together. You were standing next to a Slytherin girl in your year, Pansy Parkinson as the two of you waited for the boys to calm down.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” She asked with the same air of nonchalance that most Slytherins seemed to have as she looked at the group. You knew who her boyfriend was, Draco Malfoy, the seeker on the team.

“Oh, I, uh, no-”

“Bella!” Theodore interrupted you as he jogged up to you a surprised but happy look on his face. You felt your face break out in a smile as you saw him running towards you. But before you could say or do anything he had reached you, thrown his arms around you and picked you up, spinning you around. You let out a squeal in surprise quickly letting one of your arms snake around the tall boy’s neck so you wouldn’t fall, you other hand holding the reason you came to the match in the first place, his cloak.

“What are you doing here?” He asked you as he put you down, a broad smile on his face as he looked down at you. You were sure you were blushing from his hug, but you decided to let it go, emotions were just running high after the match. He would have hugged anyone like that, you thought.

“I came to congratulate you on your good match,” You said, and you saw how his smile became even wider in happiness, it made you smile too, “and to give you this back, since I didn’t find you yesterday.” You said softly as you handed him the thick fabric of his cloak. He took it in one of his large hands, the other, you just noticed, was still resting on your waist. If you weren’t blushing from before you had to be now, hopefully you could blame the wind. Just as he was about to say something he was interrupted by his best friend and one of the beaters, Mattheo.

“Oi, Theo, who are you hiding there?” You could hear the teasing note in the voice. Theodore was giving you an apologetic look before he gave you a gentle squeeze on the waist before letting go just as Mattheo, Lorenzo, the other beater, and Blaise joined you. They were looking at the two of you with great interest making you chuckle in embarrassment.

“Uh, hi, I’m y/n, I tutor Theodore.” You said while giving a wave at the boys, to break the weird silence that had fallen upon the group.

“Teach?” They all exclaimed, making you smile and raise an eyebrow in a silent question at Theodore who suddenly seemed to find the sky extremely interesting.

“We call you teach because Theo refused to tell us who you were.” Lorenzo explained.

“Yeah, he thought we were going to hassle you or something.” Mattheo playfully scoffed, making you let out a giggle.

“Yeah, because that’s not something you would do.” You said, a smile on your face.

“Exactly, we would- hang on, you’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?” Mattheo said, his eyes narrowed in a joking manner. You feigned a look of innocence.

“What? No of course not, I would never.” You let out, your voice dripping with fake innocence. Lorenzo, Blaise and Theodore chuckled as you batted your eyelashes jokingly at Mattheo.

“You know what, I like you,” Mattheo turned to Theodore, “I like her, why didn’t you introduce us right away, she can obviously handle some hassling.” He said, a smirk on his face making you laugh. Theodore shook his head in feign annoyance.

“Yeah, yeah whatever Mattheo.” Theodore muttered as he rolled his eyes before turning to you, “we have to go change, maybe I’ll see you later?” He asked, completely ignoring his friends who were now dramatically reenacting people kissing and batting their eyelashes at each other. You let out a chuckle at the groups antics before looking up at Theodore.

“That’s fine, I have to go study anyways.” You said smiling up at him. You missed the flash of disappointment in his eyes.

“Good job again with the match,” You smiled softly up at him before turning to his friends who abruptly stopped their antics, “It was nice meeting you guys, great match.” You smiled as you gave a small wave before turning around to trek up to the castle again. The boys shouted their various goodbyes at you making you turn around to smile and wave again at them. It was like something had shifted between you and Theodore after the quidditch match. Theodore became friendlier with you, he would even make you walk with him and his friends to the classes you shared. Sometimes if you had time after your tutoring sessions, you would join the Slytherin table for dinner, you now had a permanent spot among the group in between Lorenzo and Theodore, across from Mattheo. You found yourself growing fond of the others too, you would bicker with Mattheo like you were siblings, tease Theodore with Blaise and gossip with Lorenzo.

You became happier, more alive as you befriended the boys. You still spent most of your free time in the library studying, but you found yourself joining them for meals more often than not. You still had problems with sleep, sometimes feeling like you haven’t slept for weeks. Days would blur and before you knew it, it was mid-December, and the grounds were covered by a thick blanket of snow. You were sitting in the library under a thick sweater to keep you warm as you waited for Theodore to show up for your session. You had propped up the Standard Book of Spells, grade 5, on your pencase as you refreshed your memory on Descendo. You felt yourself lay your head in your arms on the table. Last night had been a particularly rough night where you had been sleeping so restlessly that you felt more tired after you woke up than you did the night before. You were just going to close your eyes until Theodore came.

“Bella, wake up.” A soft voice said, though it sounded as it came through cotton.

“Please, bella, it’s time for dinner.” The voice said again, slightly less muffled this time. The voice was wrong though, it couldn’t be time for dinner now, Theodore hadn’t shown up for his session yet. You felt a warm hand on your back, shaking you gently. You slowly opened your eyes and saw none other than Theodore. You were confused at first, not knowing where you were and what time it was before it dawned on you. You were in the library; Theodore was sitting beside you saying it was time for dinner. You shot up.

“I’m so sorry Theodore!” You burst out, the feelings of guilt and anxiety washed over you like a bucket of cold water. He gave you a soft smile. It was one of those smiles you rarely got to see, but it made your day better every time you did see it.

“Shhh, it’s okay, bella, you were so tired, you needed the rest.” He said lowly making you frown slightly.

“It isn’t okay, Theodore, we were supposed to work on Descendo today.” You said, panic still evident in your voice.

“Y/n!” He cut off your spiralling, “I’ve practiced, look,” he did the charm perfectly on your pencase, “I might’ve looked at your book to see what you were reading up on. Oh! And I might have looked at your notes too.” He said sheepishly. Your face turned into an impressed expression as you looked at the boy beside you.

“Wow, Theo, you did really good.” You praised him, making him grin at you.

“Thanks.” He said softly before he started to gather his things. When he noticed that you still sat there, the tiredness washing over you in another wave, he closed your book and started to gather your things as well. You looked at him with curiosity in your tired eyes.

“Come on, bella, let’s get you dinner and then to bed.” He muttered softly as he closed your bag shut and hitched it on his shoulder before reaching out an inviting hand to you.

“I’m fine Theodore, you don’t have to take care of me.” You mumbled, the guilt making a reappearance in your chest. He smiled slightly as he grabbed your arm and, rather roughly, pulled you out of your seat, making you face him. His hand slowly travelled down from your upper arm and grasped onto your wrist, engulfing the upper part of your hand in the process. His action made your heart flutter and your breath hitch in your throat. He was looking at you with puppy dog eyes, the smile still on his face. His free hand found its place on your jaw, gently stroking your cheek.

“If I don’t do it, who will, hm?” He asked softly as his thumb continued to stroke your now hot cheek. You averted your eyes from his blue ones, suddenly finding the table beside you very interesting.

“I really need to study, Theo.” You mumbled as an answer. You felt how his hand moved from your jaw to grip your chin, tilting it upwards, making you look him in the eye again. Your heart was beating so fast now you were sure he could hear it, or at least feel it.

“How about we make a deal,” he said, a small smirk on his face now, “you come to dinner with me now, and if you feel like studying after you can come back.” He shrugged before nodding his head towards the exit. His eyes were pleading with you to go with him and before you could even think it through you felt yourself nod in his grasp. A smile broke out on his face, making you give him a tired smile back. He turned, not letting your wrist go, and started towards the exit of the library. You were still feeling very tired as the two of you strolled to the great hall for dinner. Theodore pushed the great oak doors open, leading you to your now usual place, next to him and Lorenzo. The rest noticed you as you came up to the part at the table where they were sitting. Mattheo let out a low whistle.

“Damn, y/n, you look like shit,” he smirked, making Blaise snort into his goblet of pumpkin juice, “is tutoring Teddy that bad?” You rolled your eyes as you sat down in between Theodore and Lorenzo.

“At least I have a reason for looking like shit, what’s your excuse?” You countered making Blaise snort once again and Lorenzo give you a fist bump under the table. Mattheo held up his hands in surrender, an amused smirk on his face.

“Damn, she is snappy today, what happened, library run out of books for you to read?” He asked teasingly. You felt a small smile twitch on your lips, despite your exhaustion. You heard Theodore chuckle beside you as you felt his warm hand on your back in a comforting manner.

“I’m surprised you knew we had a library, Mattheo.” You said, your lips still twitching from trying not to smile. He broke out in a grin making you mirror it as you put some food on your plate, before putting some on Theodore’s. The boy thanked you quietly making you smile softly up at him.

“Yeah, I found it the other day actually.” Mattheo said, mock pride in his voice making you chuckle.

“Good job! Just you wait until you can read, it will be like a whole new world for you.” You teased him. Mattheo was anything but stupid, he was talented in most subjects, he could easily be one of the best students in the school if he put in the effort. But it was an inside joke your group had that he was stupid, mostly due to some of the stupid things he says, he had a habit of speaking before thinking, but that definitely didn’t make him stupid. The group chuckled making you smile once more as you slowly ate your dinner.

“But seriously, why do you look like you just woke up?” Blaise asked, you could see a hint of concern in his eyes making you give him an apologetic smile.

“Because she just did.” Theodore said before you could even think of replying. You turned to Theodore to send him a pointed look, but he was looking at his friends. “I found her asleep in the library.” He added.

“And you scold me for sleeping in class, this is just as bad!” Blaise pointed an accusing finger at you making you roll your eyes in a joking manner.

“Oh, shut up Blaise.” You laughed, tiredness still clear in your voice.

“Are you okay, though?” Lorenzo asked you cautiously. You gave him an apologetic smile, feeling guilty for worrying your newfound friends.

“I am, I’m just having sleep troubles, I have been for a while.” You admitted. It surprised you how easily you admitted that to them, but they made you feel safe in a weird way. You looked around at the group and you saw various looks of sympathy in their eyes.

“Guys, please don’t worry, it’s been like this for as long as I can remember.” You tried to make the problem smaller than it was, but it had the exact opposite effect. You felt Theodore’s hand come up to your back once again, rubbing it in a comforting manner.

“Maybe you need to see Madam Pomfrey?” Mattheo suggested, now serious.

“I mean it has been better now for a while; it was just last night that was bad, I don’t think I need to see her…” You trailed off. You felt Theodore’s hand move around to your waist, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze.

“I’ll come with you if you want me to, bella.” He said softly, making you look at him. You felt warm inside from the concern he was showing you.

“I promise, I’ll go if it gets worse again.” You said after stifling a yawn. You saw how he smiled softly at you before he let his arm rest around your waist, letting you lean into him. You let your head fall to his shoulder. You looked around the group who still looked worried.

“Guys, I’ll be fine,” You said a smile on your face, “what did you guys do today?” You asked, not lifting your head from Theodores shoulder. The others were quiet for a quick moment before they started to recount their day. How they had pulled some pranks and how they accidentally intimidated a first year. You sent them a glare at this information making them apologize quickly before Lorenzo started to recount some gossip that had made its way around the school. You felt your eyelids droop as you listened to Lorenzo explain something about someone setting off a dungbomb in Filch’s office. The others, who would never admit that they enjoyed gossiping, were listening intently and they even suggested who it could be. Your mind started to focus less on the conversation and more on the warmth that Theodore was emitting. The way he was stroking your waist was comforting as you breathed in his now familiar scent. You started to just hear isolated words from the boys as you started to slip in and out from consciousness and before you knew it you were out like a light against Theodore’s shoulder.

“Is she asleep?”

“Yeah.” The voices were quiet and muffled as you felt someone grab the back of your knees, to lift you up.

“Man try something else.” You heard someone say as a frustrated sigh was heard from above you.

“Stupid riddle, stupid knocker, stupid Ravenclaw common room.” You heard someone mutter angrily from beside you, still sounding like it came through cotton.

“Finis Coronat Opus.” You heard a voice mutter and then you heard stone slide on stone.

You woke up the next morning, utterly confused but surprisingly well rested. You looked around your unfamiliar surroundings. Your eyes scanned the dark green canopy above you before tracing the same green curtains that hung around the bed you were laying in. You saw a desk with a chair against the wall next to you as well as a dark brown dresser opposite the foot of the fourposter bed that you were laying in. The bed was unbelievably comfortable, the comforter thick and warm against the cold air in the room, the pillows were fluffy. You noticed that you were alone in the bed, but you were wearing a big t-shirt and a pair of green plaid pyjama pants. You shot up in panic. These were not your clothes. Just as panic really started to set a door opened and in walked Theodore in just a towel.

“Morning, bella.” You barley heard him over his almost naked form. Your eyes shamelessly scanned his toned torso as he walked towards you with a smirk plastered on his face, using the other towel around his neck to dry of his hair.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked, a teasing hint in his voice as he sat down on the foot of the bed to look at you. You gulped as you felt the bed dip from his weight. You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“What happened?” You settled on asking first. He let out a chuckle.

“You fell asleep by the table.” He said but chose to continue to explain when he saw your confused look. “Me and Mattheo tried to get you to Ravenclaw tower, but we couldn’t solve the riddle to get in. And I didn’t want to wake you since you were so tired earlier, so we thought of the next best thing, to, uh, bring you here.” He finished as he chuckled again. You brain was trying to piece together this information.

“Did you... did you, um, change my clothes?” You gestured to the clothes you were wearing making Theodore let out an actual laugh. You tossed a pillow on his head at this.

“What’s so funny?” You asked as he continued to chuckle, the pillow now on his lap.

“You don’t remember? You’re quite the sleepwalker.” He mused, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks.

“Oh, no, what did I do?” You asked as you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment. You heard how he chuckled again before you felt his warm hands around your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face.

“You were adamant that you couldn’t sleep in your normal clothes once I put you down on my bed, and, well, you started to take your clothes off. Don’t worry!” He said as he saw how your eyes widened in panic, “I tossed you some clothes before I turned around, I didn’t look, I promise. But I’m pretty sure you fell sometime while you were changing but when I turned back around you were out cold on the bed again, completely dressed in the pyjamas.” He finished explaining as you let out a groan in embarrassment. He was probably right though; you felt sore on your hip.

“I’m so sorry Teddy.” The nickname just slipped out as you apologised for your antics. You saw how he tensed for a moment before a smile spread on his lips, his hands squeezed your wrists reassuringly.

“Don’t worry bella, I found it quite funny,” he chuckled before looking at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “and you’re always welcome to share my bed.” He winked before standing up, walking towards his dresser. Your eyes raked over his wide shoulders and muscular back. If you said he wasn’t attractive you would be a liar. You felt the blush come back to your cheeks as he confirmed the thought that had been floating in your mind. You had shared his bed. Oh, you hoped that you didn’t do anything else embarrassing.

“You might want to get dressed, unless you want to be late.” He said as he shrugged on his pants, making the towel fall to the floor. You sprang into action, getting out of bed before getting dressed in the outfit you wore yesterday. You thanked your past self for always keeping a spare pair of underwear in your schoolbag, in case you got your period unexpectedly. As you looked at your school shirt, makeup stains on the collar, you wondered for a second if it was too much to ask to borrow one of his shirts. You turned around to face him as he tied his Slytherin tie.

“Teddy?” You said softly making his eyes snap to yours. He smiled at you as you stood there, your school skirt on along with his t-shirt. His eyes drifted to your shirt in your hands.

“Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the stains on the shirt.

“Here.” He said, smile still on his face as he handed you one of his school shirts. You smiled gratefully before turning around again, quickly ridding yourself of the t-shirt before slipping on the soft material of the button up shirt. It was quite big on you; you noticed as you buttoned the buttons. You tucked the fabric inside the waistband of your skirt as you surveyed yourself in his mirror by the door. Theodore was sitting on the bed, looking at you. You quickly tied your tie around the collar of the too big shirt before turning around to Theodore.

“Do I look okay?” You asked gesturing to his shirt. He smiled at you from his bed.

“You look perfect, as always, bella.” He said smoothly making you blush. He stood up from his bed, walked over to you, took your hand and led you to the other door of his room, the one he came out of when you had woken up. It was a bathroom. Damn, the Slytherins really had the superior dorms, you thought as Theodore was rummaging through his cabinet before he handed you something. A toothbrush, still in its packaging.

“Here, I thought you might want to brush your teeth.” He shrugged as he grabbed his own toothbrush.

“Thank you.” You said softly as you ripped up the packaging before letting Theodore add toothpaste on it. The scene was painfully domestic as you stood there, looking at each other in the mirror while brushing your teeth. After you were done you quickly splashed your face with water, Theodore, to your surprise, held out a small container with face cream. You smiled at him as you applied a small layer of the cream.

“I didn’t know you cared so much for your skin?” You asked as you walked through the Slytherin common room together. Your eyes wandered around the stonewalls and black leather couches. The common room had large windows that showed the bottom of the black lake. You let your eyes linger on the creatures on the other side of the window as you walked past it with Theodore by your side.

“It’s not all easy being this handsome.” He smirked making you let out a laugh. The two of you walked to breakfast together, his arm found it’s home on your shoulders as you were walking through the corridors littered with students. You noticed that people were looking at the two of you as they were whispering to their friends. Your eyes narrowed at them as you walked past groups and groups of people staring and whispering. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before you turned your head to look up at Theodore.

“Why are people staring at us?” You whispered up to him. He looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowed at your question.

“Hm, I don’t know, maybe because you’re beautiful?” He shrugged, sending you a wink before moving to hold open the large oak doors to the great hall. As you walked in the hall got quiet before everyone broke out into hushed whispers. You looked at Theodore with suspicion.

“That’s not it.” You said, narrowed eyes.

“I’m sorry bella, I have no clue.” He said with a chuckle as he held up his hands in mock surrender. You decided to let it go as you walked together towards your friends. Theodore’s hand on the low of your back.

“Morning, y/n.” Lorenzo said a broad smirk on his face as you sat down next to him, Theodore next to you.

“Morning, boys.” You said smile on your face as you reached for a piece of toast.

“So, did you sleep well?” Mattheo said before coughing, “with Theo.” He added between coughs. You narrowed your eyes at the boy you have come to look at like a brother. The others let out various chuckles at this. Theodore did tell you that Mattheo tried to help him get you back to your common room last night, so you assumed he filled in the others on what had happened.

“Yeah, did you use protection?” Blaise asked with a shrug making both you and Theodore choke on your tea and him his coffee. You looked at Theodore who was trying to hold in his laughter, deciding to turn the tide you turned to Blaise, a smirk on your face.

“At least there’s a reason to ask us that, when was the last time someone asked you that Blaise?” You asked innocently making Lorenzo and Mattheo laugh.

“Oi, y/n, that was foul.” Blaise said with a grin on his face making you laugh before you turned to Mattheo.

“I heard you couldn’t solve the riddle, what was it?” You asked, curious.

“Oh, I barely remember, like something lost in the day, blah blah, comes at night, what is it?” He said, his mouth full of food. You scrunched your nose at him.

“Do you mean They come out at night without being called and are lost in the day without being stolen.” You asked curiously as you looked between Theodore and Mattheo. They both nodded, making you shake your head at them.

“Yeah, that was the one.” Theodore confirmed as he took a bite out of his toast.

“Stars, you idiots. The answer is stars.” You said with a sigh making Lorenzo let out a chuckle.

“Well, how are we supposed to know that?” Mattheo protested making you chuckle and shake your head before sipping your tea.

“Oh, I don’t know, I suppose I expected more from someone with the last name Riddle.” You said pointedly making the others chuckle again. Mattheo sent you playful glare as he sipped his tea. The rest of breakfast went by quickly, so did the rest of the day and before you knew it you found yourself walking around the grounds with Theodore before dinner. Where the others had gone you had no idea. Theodore’s arm had found its way around your shoulders again, holding you close to his side. As you were walking outside in the thick layer of snow towards the green houses a blonde Hufflepuff boy bumped into your shoulder, making you stumble into Theodore’s side.

“Watch where you’re going.” The boy said, rather rudely, making you look at him stunned when you had regained your footing. You recognised him as Zacharias Smith. You frowned at him and just as you were about to tell him off Theodore had grabbed the collar of his cloak. He was snarling as he dragged the shorter Hufflepuff closer to his face. He had a dangerous look on his face while sending the boy an icy glare.

“Che cazzo stai facendo?” Theodore asked angrily.

“O-oi-” Zacharias protested, trying to get lose from Theodores grip.

“I asked you what the fuck you’re doing.” Theodore repeated, interrupting Zacharias protesting, dangerously slow this time. You saw how he gulped nervously. Coming out of your momentarily shock you jumped into action. Curling your fingers around Theodore’s bicep you successfully got his attention away from the Hufflepuff boy.

“Teddy,” You said, your voice soft, “please, I’m sure it was just an accident.” You looked with a pointed look at Zacharias who nodded fervently in agreement.

“Y-yeah, I’m s-sorry y/n.” He sputtered out. Theodore looked at him, the cold, dangerous stare back in his eyes as he reluctantly let go of Zacharias collar. The moment he was lose he scurried away like a frightened deer. Theodore turned back to you, his eyes now back to their puppy dog look that you’ve become familiar with. But this time you weren’t feeling the usual warmth in your stomach when you gazed into them. No, you were feeling the prickling feeling of annoyance bubble up in your stomach instead, along with something else.

“What did you do that for?” You asked, glaring at the boy with fluffy hair. A small frown made its way onto his lips.

“What do you mean, bella?” He asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

“Why did you have to go all ‘cave man’ on Zacharias? He only bumped into me for Merlin’s sake.” You let out in an exasperated tone, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Cave man? Bella, he hurt you and he was rude to you!” Theodore said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Sure, he was rud-”

“No one can treat you like that in front of me.” He interrupted you, his voice low. You felt the icy wind nip at your face as the warm feeling returned to the pit of your stomach.

“I- what? Why?” You stuttered, his admission catching you off guard.

“How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?” He muttered irritably as he took a step closer to you, snow crunching under his feet.

“I’m not stupid.” You scoffed, sending him another glare. He let out a laugh in frustration as he looked to the side before looking back at you. His hand grabbed your chin making you hold your eye contact.

“You are the smartest person I know, and yet you can’t see what’s in front of you.” He said, his face coming closer to yours. Your heart was beating fast as your eyes searched his blue ones. His eyes were raw with emotion as he was staring at your face.

“What?” You asked softly, still lost in his eyes. He let out a huff, eyes quickly darting to the side before they found yours again. His face was so close to yours that you could see the specs of green and grey in his blue irises. The cold air evaporated around you when his soft lips found yours. His hand that was gripping your chin moved to the nape of your neck to bring you closer, his other finding your hip, squeezing it gently. It took you a moment to realise what was happening. Theodore was kissing you. The boy you had been crushing on was kissing you. Before you could even think about reciprocate the kiss he pulled back. Worry was swirling in his beautiful eyes.

“Bella, I-” He started to apologise but your mind caught up with the situation. You interrupted his apology by kissing him, your hands grabbing onto the ends of his knitted Slytherin scarf, effectively dragging him down to your height. It felt like a breath of fresh air to be kissing him. Like you had been closed in a stuffy room for too long and he was the window that was cracked open. You felt how his soft lips stretched into a smile as he kissed you back in a gentle, slow kiss. The wind swirled snowflakes around the two of you as your arms found their way around his neck to get even closer to him. The two of you smiled as you kissed each other in the cold winter air. Only pulling apart by the loud cheering of three other Slytherins you have come to look at as your friends and brothers. You looked at your friends, laughter in your throat before you looked back to Theodore who was smiling down at you, adoration in his eyes.

“Should we get to dinner, amore?” He asked softly but made no move to go over to your friends.

“Amore?” You questioned, butterflied fluttering in your stomach. He nodded as he gently took on of your hands in his before placing a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“Amore mio.” He said making your heart beat considerably faster. He smiled softly at you making you stand on the tip of your toes to place another kiss on his lips. Yet another loud cheer could be heard from up the hill near the castle. You couldn’t contain your smile as you kissed him, only breaking apart because the cheers became too loud. With a laugh you and Theodore joined your friends before heading to dinner. Maybe there was more to life than studying. What neither of you saw was Professor Flitwick that had witnessed the whole ordeal, a fond smile on his face.