#the summer i turned pretty inspired

[lnfours]

summer loving (nine) ⎸t.h

⌙ summary: your mom and tom’s mom grew up together, swearing that their kids would be life long friends. and it was true, the holland boys were a special part of your life. but on the annual trip to their beach house this summer, everything feels different. and that’s because it is.

⌙ au: based on the book and tv show ‘the summer i turned pretty’ by jenny han. childhood friends to lovers

⌙ wc: 1.8k

⌙ warnings: fluff, language, a little bit of smut?? idrk. and he who shall not be named is back 

⌙ pairing: tom holland x fem!reader

masterlist ⎸ chapter eight  ⎸ chapter ten ⎸ listen

                                 ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

to say that the airport was crowded would be an understatement. there were people walking in all directions, trying to get to the baggage claim to see their families. you had somehow found yourself in the middle of the airport in london 3 days before christmas. wasn’t the smartest move on your part, but you missed tom. you didn’t want to wait the couple more months until he’s in the states for filming. 

plus, harry had mentioned that all tom was talking about was how much he missed you. so the two of you had planned the surprise visit, and now here you were. in a city you’d never been to before, standing in the middle of the airport, feeling so out of place. 

your phone rang from your pocket. you stepped to the side, pulling it out to see harry’s contact pop up. you slid over the answer button before pressing the phone to your ear.

“hello?”

“hey, we’re here,” he said, hearing haz and tuwaine make commotion in the background, “are you outside yet?”

“no, not yet,” you sighed, “it’s packed in here.”

he chuckled, “yeah, something about christmas coming up, maybe? dunno.”

you rolled your eyes at his sarcasm, chuckling softly, “you’re at terminal b, right?”

“yeah, we’re right by the doors. tuwaine almost pushed an old lady out of the way to get this spot, but we managed.”

“she was just standing there like a div!”

you laughed, reading the sign above your head as you made a right down the hallway towards baggage claim, “okay, i’ll see you guys in a few.”

“sounds good.”

you hung up and shoved your phone back in your pocket. you weaved your way through the crowds and after a little bit of pushing, you managed to find the boys. you smiled and sighed out of relief when you hugged harry.

“this is a fucking nightmare, please get me out of here.”

he laughed, “sure thing.” 

you loaded your things into the car and hopped in the backseat next to tuwaine who pulled you into his side.

“my favorite girl is here!” you laughed as you hugged him back.

“it’s been so long,” you said, “it’s a bummer the two of you didn’t get a chance to come to the beach house this summer.”

after a little more catching up, the three of you finally pulled up to tom’s house. you unloaded your things from the car as haz went into the house to make sure tom was ready to be surprised. you followed tuwaine and harry into the house, hearing tom’s laugh.

“what the hell is going on?”

“tom just put on the blindfold.”

“i’m not sure i want to.”

“oh, you want to.”

the boys nodded towards you, letting you know you could enter the room. tom was sitting on the couch, blindfold on as he asked a million questions. 

he hated surprises.

you smiled as he complained again, “what the hell is going on?”

you stood in front of tom where he was sitting and smiled to harry, nodding at him to tell tom to take the blindfold off. 

“alright, you can take the blindfold off, tom.”

he tugged at the material until it was off his head, throwing it beside him. he adjusted his eyes before they landed on you standing in front of him. you watched as his eyes shifted from you to all the guys in the room. 

“shut the fuck up. is this real life?”

you laughed, “god, i hope so after that 7 hour flight.”

he sprung up from his seat and hugged you tight. you laughed as he lifted you off the ground, smiling as your arms tightened around his neck. he buried his face into your hair, taking in the smell of your shampoo and perfume. 

“you’re really here.”

“i am.”

he placed you back on your feet, smiling as he looked around at his friends and back at you, “you fuckers pulled this off, didn’t you?”

haz and tuwaine threw their hands up in fake surrender, “it was all harry and y/n’s idea.”

he smiled at his brother and back at you, pulling you back into a hug. you giggled, the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils for the first time after 4 months of not being able to see him. 

after the reunion, he grabbed your things and led you throughout the house, giving you a little tour so you’d feel more at home during your week long stay. he led you up the stairs, showing you to his room. 

“wanna do something later? go out into the town? i’ll take you to my favorite pub, pretty sure there’s a trivia tonight.”

you smiled, nodding as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “sounds perfect.”

he smiled back down at you, your fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck. the feeling of being with him, the feeling of at home, washing over you. 

“i missed you.” he said, his voice softer due to the proximity.

“i know.”

he fake scoffed, “no ‘i missed you too’?”

you giggled, leaning up so your lips brushed over his, “i was thinking i could show you just how much i missed you.”

his lips turned into a smirk as he pulled your body closer, leaving no gaps in between. 

“yeah?”

you nodded, “mhm.”

he leaned in closer, his lips closing the space as he kissed you sweetly. you kissed him back, his hands falling to your waist as he gripped tightly, walking the two of you over to his bed. his knees hit the edge of the bed and he pulled you on top of him as he sat down on the mattress. your legs straddling his hips as he cupped your cheek into his hand, deepening the kiss.

your hands found the hem of his t-shirt, your fingers dancing along the skin of his abdomen before he pulled away to tug the material over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. you didn’t hesitate to do the same thing, pulling the hoodie over your head. he adjusted his body so he was fully on the bed now, his head resting on the pillows as you climbed on top of him again. he smiled, moving your hair out of your face as you leaned down and peppered his jaw with kisses.

“i love you.”

you smiled down at him, “i love you, too.”

you leaned down to kiss him again, however you were interrupted by the knock at his bedroom door, harry’s voice following af†er. 

“we’re leaving for the pub at five!”

you looked down at tom as he looked at his watch, rolling his eyes softly, “okay.”

“what time is it?” you asked, harry’s footsteps fading away as he walked down the hallway, the sound of his door closing echoing off the walls.

he smiled softly at you before switching your positions so now he was on top of you and you were the one with your head on the pillows, “three.”

you smiled softly, hooking your arms around his neck as he leaned back down towards your lips, “better make it quick, holland. i need time to get ready so i can impress all your friends.”

he chuckled softly, “darling, you could show up in sweatpants and a t-shirt and still impress everyone.”

you smiled softly, “damn, i guess that red dress you like so much will just stay in my suitcase.”

his eyes widened softly as you maintained the smile you were sending back up at him, “that’s what i thought.”

                                ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you walked into the pub with the boys, tom’s arm draped loosely around your waist. you watched as tom greeted his friends, smiling as he stepped back to introduce you. 

“this is y/n, my girlfriend.” 

“oh, so you’re the girl from the summer house? he doesn’t shut up about you.” the one with black, fluffy hair had said as you slid in next to tom in the booth, chuckling as tom playfully smacked the boy’s arm.

“yeah, that would be me.”

“your mom is nikki’s best friend, right?” the blonde girl had asked. you nodded, fiddling with your fingers under the table. tom was quick to notice your nervous fidgeting, placing his hand on yours to reassure you that everything was okay. 

pretty soon, the trivia had begun and you helped the table answer the questions. after your fourth time getting something right, they had claimed that they should kick tom out and put you in instead. 

and because of your contributions, you helped them win the trivia night for this week. everyone celebrated by going up to the bar and getting drinks, but you and tom hung back at the booth. 

you smiled, watching haz talk to the blonde girl from before, “he likes her, doesn’t he?”

tom nodded, putting his beer down on the table, “yeah, has since we were in primary.”

you looked over at the brunette, “what’s stopping him from asking her out?”

he shrugged, “beats me. we’ve all been telling him to do it for years. i think whenever theres a chance, their either in relationships with other people, or there’s just not enough time.”

you nodded, looking back at haz and the blonde girl as she laughed at him, placing her hand on his as he stood with her at the bar, “kinda like us. we were either with other people or we were too scared to tell the other how we actually felt.”

“yeah, but i eventually pulled my head out of my arse.”

you laughed softly, “indeed you did. it was about time.”

he rolled his eyes playfully, “yeah, yeah, whatever.”

you both laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. you loved everything about this moment, loved everything about london and the atmosphere. you felt like you were at home even though it was a city you weren’t too familiar with. 

you felt at home because tom was here.

your thought process was interrupted when your phone started ringing on the table, kat’s contact picture lighting up your phone. you grabbed your phone and answered.

“hello?”

“did you see it?” she asked, her voice frantic.

your eyebrows pulled together, “see what?”

“you seriously haven’t seen it?”

you sat up now, noticing kat’s serious tone, “see what, kat?”

she sighed, the echo of her nails tapping on her phone screen filling your ears. you felt your phone buzz in your hand, pulling it away and clicking on the messages notification from her. you clicked on the screenshot, your eyes widening quickly. 

“kat, what the fuck is this?”

shawnmendes added to their instagram story.

you were staring blankly at the screenshot. a picture of you on the beach with a smile on your face, a picture you knew shawn had taken during one of your beach dates. 

missing summer with you! <3 @/y/ny/l/n

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[msfeyredarling]

TSIRUP Masterlist

Read on Ao3

Chapter 4: Changing Tides

The tap tap tap of the rain on the window and trees bellowing in the icy wind made the usually cold floorboards, freezing. The bright pink fluffy bed socks warmed her cold toes but the rest of her body felt as if it was in the heat of the scorching sun. 

Feyre wore a blue off-shoulder flowy dress that did not keep her warm but rather to cool her flushed skin. She couldn’t tell if she was flushed, simply because it was cold outside, or for some other reason, that may involve three handsome brothers. Although she decided to move on from the boys, she couldn’t suddenly erase how unmistakably beautiful they were, hence her current predicament. 

She flowed easily between the kitchen and the dining room. Her mother and Rhiannon prepared lunch in the kitchen as Feyre set out the dining table. Every piece of cutlery was perfectly aligned on the dark purple napkins, and a combination of white florals and bright greenery sat in the middle light purple runner. The light purple contrasted beautifully against the dark wood of the table. Her inner artist sighed in delight. 

When she finished the table, she went back to the kitchen to help with lunch, she was on salad duty. She began breaking the crisp leaves off the lettuce and as she was slicing up the tomatoes, the brothers decided to show. 

All three strolled in looking perfect, not a hair out of place. Feyre chose to ignore them as they sat on the stools, unwilling to lose a finger or so she told herself. Unfortunately, her silence wasn’t unnoticed and as the mothers left the kitchen, they pounced. “So the deb ball huh?” Rhys waggled his brows, elbows resting on the counter as he leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. She gave a soft hum of agreement and moved her cutting board to the opposite bench, her back facing them as she began on the onions. 

“Who are you going to take?” Rhys continued but Feyre ignored him. 

“You say that like she'll go through with it and dress up in a white fluffy gown,” Azriel commented. His words hurt, more than they should have. It's been three years since they last sore her and they expected her not to change during that time, that she would be the same old and boring Feyre. 

She was so caught up in her mind and insecurities, she didn’t realise she had been rapidly chopping the onions until a hand laid over her own. Feyre immediately stopped, eyes lined in silver as she looked up into hazel eyes. “Hey,” he said softly. Cassian. He always knew when she was hurting, always there to comfort her, but after last night she thought everything would change between them. It seemed his heart was still prepared to give all its love and she was so undeserving of it. 

“Can we talk?” he asked, eyes pleading with her. “In private,” he gave a pointed look towards Rhysand and Azriel as they stared at the knots in the bench with fascination. 

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “Of course,” she replied, if only because she didn’t want an audience. As she followed him out of the room, her stomach filled with dread. She didn’t know what to expect but she had a nagging feeling this might be the end. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought about losing one of her best friends. 

Feyre followed Cassian to his room. He softly closed the door and turned to face her. Her cheeks became damp as the tears fell.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered

“What?”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to push you or make you feel uncomfortable. I understand if you don’t–”

Warm arms wrapped around her, his warmth seeping through. He held her to his chest, her head resting just below his shoulder. “No Feyre, I’m the one who should be sorry. I was drunk and I lashed out at the closest person available. I am sorry. What I said was completely uncalled for and I didn’t mean any of it. You are my best friend…” he paused. “…and nothing in this world could ever change that.” 

Feyre looked up at Cassian. His eyes were closed as he took in deep breaths like his thoughts had been weighing heavy on his heart. She knew him well enough to know that to be true. “I appreciate your apology,” she stated. She knew his words were sincere and truthful but she also couldn’t suddenly forget what happened. 

Cassian opened his eyes and she looked into his bright hazel irises. He raised a single brow, his lips flickering up into a small smile. “You appreciate it?” 

“Well I can’t let you get everything now can I? I’m going to make you work hard for my forgiveness. I hold your fate in my hands,” she teased and was greeted with his beautiful booming laugh. 

“That’s my Feyre,” he beamed at her and a shiver went down her spine at thought of being ‘his’. A warm fuzzy feeling arose before she got the chance to squash it. She couldn’t deny that she liked how it sounded but she reminded herself she was ‘his’ best friend not ‘his’ anything else. She made a promise and she was going to keep it. 

Feyre linked her arm through Cassian’s as they walked back to the kitchen. “His and her majesty decided to join us,” Rhys said from where he was dicing up more tomatoes. Azriel was mixing the salad as Rhys added more ingredients. 

“You should be grateful we are gracing you with our royal presence,” Cassian replied. Cas helped Rhys take the food to the dining table, bickering as they went. She couldn’t help the smile that bloomed. 

Azriel came and stood beside her. “Are you alright?” He asked softly. She peered up at his face, unsurprised he saw right through her. 

“I’m fine. Everything is perfect now that I’m back at this house with you lot,” Feyre grabbed ahold of his hand, ignoring his look of concern, and pulled him along to the dining room. “Hurry up or there won’t be any food left. I do not trust those two to save us any,” she huffed and Azriel chuckled. 

Everything was and would be alright. If she followed her own advice, this summer would be like all the rest, but with less pinning and more fun.

Chapter 5

[layla-keating]

I want it to be with you.

THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY 2.02 "Love Scene"

[dollyyun]

The palpable tension in the room feels disconcerting as they await your decision in an overt anticipation; well, at least most of them are except four specific individuals whom you lack the fortitude to speak to ever since, let alone to meet their gaze, knowing that your glass heart will shatter into pieces again.

"Come on, Y/N! It's just a quick dare!" Minjeong doesn't bother to conceal her impatience, whining as you deliberately delay in making your decision. "Just pick anyone you find hot in this room to do seven minutes in heaven with in the closet room! It's not as if we're daring you to make out openly here."

A few of them erupt into chuckles while you remain tensely dour, unable to find any humour in what your friend said or the collective leering amusement in most of their countenance. You curl your fingers into a fist, hating how it should not be difficult for you to pick someone for the sake of this foolish party game, but considering what happened, you find it hard to enjoy anything with the four of them in your vicinity.

Mustering courage, you finally scan the participants seated in the same massive circle as you, but something feels compelling as your eyes are magnetically drawn to the handsome faces that your heart aches. Though the expressions on their faces are infuriatingly indecipherable, you can sense that they dreadfully anticipate your pick, almost as if they know that you would never choose any of them.

But then again, you could never choose between them: your childhood best friend whom you once shared secrets with, your childhood best friend's stepbrother whom you used to confide in and close with, your first crush, who was also the first boy to ever break your heart, and your ex-crush's intimidating brother, who is the cold, grumpy twin.

No one in this room could ever understand the long, complicated history that you had with Jake, Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon, which is why it is genuinely infuriating how your friends don't seem to get the memo or even gain awareness of the tension between you and them.

You swallow down a nerving lump harshly, wanting to get this over with. Once you are finished with the stupid dare, you intend to get the hell out of here. "Jungwon," Your pick draws collective gasps from most, and you feign obliviousness to the way a few pairs of eyes seem to harden with their jaw taut with tension. "I choose Jungwon."

Jungwon looks just as surprised as the others before a boyish grin plays on his lips. "I'm honoured, princess," He says flirtatiously while you shoot him a playful scowl, knowing that he is merely joking around.

As you rise from the floor, you intend to head over to Jungwon, only to stop dead in your tracks when Sunghoon follows suit before storming over to you, rendering you intimidated by his icily glaring eyes penetrate into your widened ones.

You attempt to back away from him, feeling daunted in the way his eyes darken with a concoction of ire and jealousy. You begin to stutter with your words, "S-Sunghoon─"

Your breath hitches in your throat when a hand latches on your wrist and yanks you with him towards the door. You look at the back of his head with bewildered eyes. "Jaeyun?!"

Jaeyun casts a look over his shoulder, allowing you to see how tensed he looks with his jaw locked and eyes blazed. "I'm bringing you back to the beach house," He tells you in a tone where you recognise that there is no room for debate, but of course you refuse to yield.

"Let go of me! I don't want to go anywhere with you!" You protest vehemently, trying to yank your wrist from his steely grip. "I'm telling your mom that you stole $100 from her wallet four years ago!"

Jaeyun scoffs out a derisive laugh, stopping in the middle of the corridor as the upbeat music from the living room faintly reverberates through these walls. "What are you, five?"

You seethe with anger, your eyes glaring hotly into his. "I swear if you don't let me go─"

"Let her go, Jaeyun." Sunghoon's authoritative tone sends shivers down your spine before you reluctantly look over your shoulder, only to feel dreadful that you are now in the presence of the very people you have been avoiding.

Jaeyun clicks his tongue in annoyance but nevertheless complies. You immediately put some distances between you and him before shooting Sunghoon a brief look, "Thanks."

"Oh, don't be mistaken. You're still not off the hook," Sunghoon says coldly, glowering at you that makes you feel as though you did commit a grave crime. "While we're being nice, you better get your cute ass back to the pickup truck."

You scoff in disbelief, daring yourself to be obstinate with your chin tilt defiantly. "No. I'm not going anywhere with any of you. My mom didn't even give me any curfews, so why should I listen to you?"

You don't wait for their response as you quickly attempt to walk past Jay, only for a startled yelp leaving your lips when he tugs at your wrist harshly before manoeuvring you and finding yourself being carried over his shoulder. "Jay?!" You throw a fit, punching his toned back repeatedly while he remains undeterred as he proceeds ahead.

"I'll drive," Heeseung announces with a sigh before Sunghoon tosses him the keys.

[iloveyouimsorrry]

*regulus and james on a date at the movies*

regulus: james will you go get me a dr pepper?

james: ofc i’ll be right back! *leaves*

sirius: *jumps up from out of no where* REGULUS?? ?? why are you on a date with james??

regulus: SIRIUS?? what are you doing here??

sirius: james snuck out of the dorm so i followed him! and i’m glad i did, wtf are you two doing??

regulus: we’re on a date! now get out of here before he sees you!

sirius: no way! why are you two dating and why didn’t you tell me??

regulus: because we don’t have to tell you everything, sirius! now get out of here!

sirius: no!

regulus: if you don’t leave right now, i’ll send everyone that solangelo fanfiction you wrote!!

sirius: you wouldn’t!!

regulus: but i would. you spent a whole page talking about how they lost their virginities at-

sirius: OKAY OKAY I’M LEAVING

[arizonacustoms]

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Hello everyone! My name is Ari! I have had an online business for a few years, now, but have only just began to promote it. This is Arizona Customs.

I create imaginative and fun designs to be placed on products and sold. I use a website called RedBubble to do so. Without the materials to make each product myself, it becomes a struggle.

Attached is the highlights from my instagram page explaining everything you need to know! If you have any questions at all, about anything, feel free to contact me in whichever way you feel comfortable.

Thank you for supporting me and I hope to hear from you soon!

[adistene]

"Moments, when lost, can’t be found again. They're just gone." - The Summer I Turned Pretty

[anchorskept]

based off this & this - open starter / mutuals and non mutuals may respond ! 

she hadn’t thought of anything else but them the whole year she was gone. this was her last summer at cousins until she went away to college and the idea of going off and not knowing when she was going to see him again made her queasy. it was her 18th birthday, and still she heard nothing. she would have been able to understand it, if he was busy or something had happened that he couldn’t pick up the phone and call her. but the days were long and it was almost impossible not to overthink it, not to feel the hurt sink in. 

taylor had dragged her to a party down the beach, it wasn’t her idea to go, nor was she feeling in the partying mood but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. belly would show up for a little while to satisfy her best friend. taylor disappeared to get them drinks, while belly decided to explore. seeing a couple kissing in the distance belly didn’t think much of it, it was dark with a campfire compassing a light around them. probably wouldn’t have even noticed him if she hadn’t pried a second time, smacking lips with a blonde bimbo.  actually, that’s not really nice of her. she could be a really nice person, green monster roaring its head. if looks could kill...

”what the shit!” her friend expressed who apparently belly was incapable of seeing the rest of her surroundings as taylor caught the same thing belly did, springing into action on her behalf. “no, taylor, don’t!” let’s just go...motioning on her face, only taylor was already moving in their direction with belly following closely behind her. god kill her, kill her now.  “didn’t take you long did it? piece of shit.”  belly stood behind her as she watched his realization of her being there in that moment, arms falling over her stomach. 

she asked him to wait for her, she asked him if he could handle it, she wished he could have told her no instead, save her the heartbreak. she would have understood. wasn’t exactly cheating, felt like it though, the ache in her chest proof of that. 

[skyhawkstragedy]

still hesitant, but MUCH BETTER dance from Harry

[icepopcider]

IT'S THEM!!!! summer season means alex's ice cream stand is open, so i had to draw it >:)) (he's earning his allowance)

dude shading with green on pink is so fun??? honestly i didn't think this would turn out so nice. if you watched the speedpaint for this, you would know the nightmare of colours this piece went through bjdfbjsd

(also this art was inspired by an alex art i saw on pinterest, so the angle ended up pretty similar bjdsfb so just to be safe, i thought i'd credit my inspiration @/stillhashed on instagram and tumblr :))

(also also bg >:D)

[theostrophywife]

HEART ON MY SLEEVE

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🤍 pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

🤍 song inspiration: friends by chase atlantic.

🤍 author's note: the duality of man. this fic serves both cute, fluffy matty and jealous, possessive mattheo.

For his upcoming birthday, Mattheo Riddle had one simple wish: for his best friends to get along. 

It shouldn’t have been such an ordeal except for the fact that you and Theo absolutely hated each other. If it weren’t for Mattheo, the two of you would have no reason to cross paths. Theo was an arrogant, pompous, quidditch playing prick with a terrible nicotine addiction while the closest you’d come to physical exertion is carrying your weekly stack of books from the library to your dorm. 

Needless to say, you were not a fan of Theodore Nott. You thought he was a bad influence on Matty, while Theo labeled you as the buzzkill, often talking your best friend out of doing things that would either land him in detention or the infirmary. You got the feeling that Theo hated the fact that he had to share Mattheo’s attention with you. Never mind the fact that you were friends with him first. 

The origin of your friendship started long before your days at Hogwarts. The first time you met Mattheo, his father invited you and your parents over at Riddle Manor to celebrate a successful business deal between your families. Even at a young age, you remembered recognizing the coldness and distance in the Riddle household. The elder riddle, Tom Sr., was a stern and unforgiving man who kept his family under his thumb. Tom Jr. played the perfect heir; cool, calm, and collected as he stood by his father’s side. Mrs. Riddle had a severe and somber air about her that sent shivers down your spine as she flashed an empty smile at you. 

Mattheo was different from the rest. There was a warmth to him that radiated outwards, pulling you in with his cheeky dimpled smile and soft bouncing curls. He marched right up to you, bowing at the waist like he was taught to, except he nearly tripped over his feet and gave you a crooked little grin before correcting himself. 

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Mattheo, but you can call me Matt.” There was a mischievous glint in his brown eyes that you didn’t recognize as trouble until much later. “Do you want to play with me?” 

As it turns out, his definition of playing meant chasing each other through the hedge maze out on the manor grounds and absolutely dirtying up your pretty pink dress as you rolled around in the grass. You laid side by side on your backs, giggling as you tucked a flower into Mattheo’s curls. 

“You’re going to get me in trouble, you know,” you stated matter-of-factly as you rolled over on your elbows. “My dress is all dirty.” 

“Don’t worry, we can ask Tom to help us. He knows lots of spells and hexes.” He leaned in conspiratorially, holding his pinky finger out. “But you have to keep it a secret, okay? Can I trust you, Y/N?” 

You hooked your finger through his, not knowing that such a simple secret would forever solidify your friendship. “You can trust me, Matty.” 

In the years that followed, the two of you were as thick as thieves. Most days were spent at either the Riddle manor or your estate, which Mattheo tended to prefer since it provided him reprieve from his father. As of late, his parents had made it perfectly clear that he was expected to follow in his brother's footsteps. Despite it being Tom's first year at Hogwarts, he was already proving to be a gifted and talented wizard. When his father wasn't outright ignoring him, Mattheo was forced to practice hexes and spells that were beyond the knowledge of an eleven year old. Without his older brother to protect him, Mattheo felt the walls closing in in his grand yet inhospitable home.

You were the only silver lining in his otherwise dreary days. Mattheo thanked Merlin that his father allowed visits to your estate. Unlike Riddle Manor, your family home was warm, lovely, and full of life. During the summers, the two of you would venture out to the edge of your property and set up camp at the creek. The sunny days were spent swimming, climbing, and picking flowers from sunrise to sunset. On one particular day, you sat cross-legged on the picnic blanket, absentmindedly picking at the sandwich in your lap. 

Beside you, Mattheo nudged you with his knee. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You blinked, trying to savor the sunshine for as long as you could. “I don’t want summer to end.” 

“We’ll only be apart for a year,” Mattheo said softly, correctly guessing the cause of your apprehension. You weren’t surprised. He always seemed to know what was on your mind. “You’ll be joining me at Hogwarts before you know it. By then, I’ll be an expert so I can show you the ropes.” 

“A lot can happen in a year,” you stated. “What if you make other friends and forget about me?” 

“I might make other friends, but I’d never forget about you. You were my first friend ever. That makes you the most important.” 

You looked up and found yourself face to face with Mattheo’s earnest expression. The corners of his lips tugged upwards as he nudged you again. “Besides, you know I’m going to write to you every week. Now that I’m in the same castle as Malfoy, I can finally crack the great mystery of whether or not he bleaches his hair.” 

“There’s no way that’s natural, right? Maybe Lucius has a special shampoo or something.”

Mattheo grinned and draped an arm over your shoulder. “I don’t know, but I promise to find out for you.” 

“You’ll really write to me every week?” 

“Of course I will,” Mattheo declared, holding his pinky finger out. “You trust me, right?” 

You smiled and hooked your pinkies together. “I trust you, Matty.” 

When the next year finally rolled around, you were so excited that you convinced your parents to take you to King’s Cross at least an hour before your departure. You hadn’t seen Mattheo since the previous summer because his family had been away on holiday in Spain, but he stayed true to his word and wrote to you every chance he got. You loved reading about the friends he’d made, the antics he got up to, and most importantly, the fascinating classes that awaited you at Hogwarts. 

As you passed through Platform 9 ¾, you were nearly knocked off your feet as Mattheo ran full force into you. He had grown much taller since you last saw him, so much so that he now towered over you as he pulled you into a bear hug. 

“Hi, Matty,” you giggled against his chest. 

“Hi, Y/N.” 

Mattheo pulled away, grinning as he tugged at your hand. “Come on, I want you to meet my friends.” 

You looked back at your parents who merely smiled at Mattheo’s excitement. To his chagrin, your best friend remembered to properly greet them and asked if you could board the train early. After much fussing, they eventually said their goodbyes and allowed you to go with Mattheo. 

The first friend that you met was Enzo. He was sweet, if not a little cheeky as he hinted that Mattheo couldn’t stop talking about you all year. Draco and Blaise needed no introduction given that your families were all fairly acquainted ever since you could remember. To your delight, Pansy was amongst the group as well. The two of you used to take ballet together, so it was a relief to have another girl to bond with. The older boys, Tom and Regulus, briefly greeted you before returning to their own cabin. 

Last, but not least, was Theodore. 

Whereas the others welcomed you with open arms, Nott was not as warm in his reception of you. The two of you clashed right off the bat. You weren’t quite sure what the root of your disagreement was. Perhaps it was his snarky comment insinuating that girls couldn’t be proper quidditch fans in reference to your Chudley Cannons scarf, perhaps it was your biting retort that he could stick his misogyny up his arse. Either way, the interaction set the tone for your strained relationship. 

Being sorted into Gryffindor only contributed to the animosity between you as well. Given the longstanding rivalry of Slytherins and Gryffindors, Theo was determined to view you as his enemy. The harder you fought, the harder Mattheo tried to repair the rift. You were the two most important people in his life and he couldn’t stand to see you two tear each other apart. 

For the most part, you tried to grin and bear it. While you couldn’t for the life of you understand how or why he was even friends with someone as unbearable as Theodore Nott, you tried to be civil for Mattheo’s sake. Tried being the key word. With Theo’s snark and your temper, the two of you became known for your infamous fights. Still, it didn’t stop your best friend from trying. 

Over the years, Mattheo concocted countless plots and schemes to get the two of you to bond. If his favorite band was playing in town, he would magically have two extra tickets to bring both you and Theo along. If there was a book release you were dying to attend, Mattheo would invite Theo along to check out the record store next door. If the castle was dead during the weekend, Mattheo would suggest a trio trip to Hogsmeade. 

As much as you cared for Mattheo, your patience only stretched so thin. Without fail, every outing that the three of you went on almost always ended in an argument between you and Theo. 

“I don’t know how you’re friends with both of us, Mattheo,” Theo joked as he gulped down his burger. “I’m fun and Y/N is —”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll stick my fork right through your hand, Nott,” you threatened with a sickly sweet smile. 

The hostility wasn’t anything new, but you supposed that after dealing with it for years and years on end, Mattheo had finally reached his breaking point. 

Your best friend pushed his plate away and sighed. “Let’s just go.” 

You nodded in agreement, gathering your things and following Mattheo’s lead. Theo trailed after, obnoxiously squeezing his way through the door of the Three Broomsticks and letting it close behind him. You yanked it open, nearly pulling the bloody thing off its hinges. 

“How very mature of you. Though I’m not surprised that you don’t know how to hold a door open for a lady.”

Theo looked back, craning his neck behind you. “As far as I’m concerned, there aren’t any ladies around. Just an infuriating little Gryffindor who can’t handle not having the last word.” 

“I’m infuriating?” You huffed, crossing your arms. “Clearly you’ve never suffered through the pleasure of your own company. Spoiler alert, the snarky arsehole bit stopped being funny in third year.” 

“Well, the uptight and bossy bitch bit wasn’t ever funny to begin with.” 

“Enough already,” Mattheo yelled. You reeled back in surprise. Usually, your best friend just let you and Theo fight it out until you both got tired of it, but he wasn’t having it tonight. “You two are the most important people in my life, but you’re acting like bloody toddlers. I’m tired of feeling like I have to choose a side, so either you two find a way to get along or risk losing me as a friend.” 

For the first time since you met him, you and Theo were both stunned into silence. Mattheo took one last look at his closest friends and marched off into the castle without a word. 

The next day, you woke up feeling weary. You hardly slept last night given Mattheo’s ultimatum. Your best friend wasn’t the type to make declarations like that lightly, so you knew he meant it. Especially since he went straight to his dorm without coming over to watch a movie or talk late into the night like the two of you often did. 

The suspicion was all but confirmed when you sat through a particularly awkward and tense breakfast. Mattheo briefly acknowledged you with a nod, not bothering to speak as he cranked up the music on his headphones. As the Smiths crooned, you looked up at Theo who shook his head at your inquisitive glance. You knew that Mattheo had most likely given him the silent treatment last night as well. 

Despite the fact that you and Mattheo had very similar schedules, he managed to avoid you throughout the entire day. By the time the last class rolled around, you knew that he was serious about you and Theo making up. It was a hard pill to swallow. Truly, you’d rather ingest a pill the size of a hippogriff than make amends with Nott, but it wasn’t like you had a choice. You didn’t want to lose Mattheo. 

Deciding to be the bigger person, you went to the one place that you knew Theo frequented. You found him sitting alone in the Astronomy Tower, long legs dangling below him as he smoked a cigarette. Biting back a comment about the death trap pursed between his lips, you cleared your throat. 

“Mind if I sit?” 

Theo tensed as he looked up at you. He wore the sneer that he solely reserved for you, but his eyes were dull and dim. The argument with Mattheo obviously left him feeling lost as well. 

“Do I have a choice?” You glared in response, but took a deep breath to calm yourself. Theo winced. “Sorry. Force of habit. Sit, I guess.” 

Gingerly, you settled in the spot next to him. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” 

“He wouldn’t talk to me last night,” Theo confirmed as he ashed his cigarette. “Just put on his headphones and went to sleep facing the wall.” 

“He’s been avoiding me all day.” 

Theo sighed. “What are we going to do?” 

“Look,” you started, trying to muster up the strength to propose your next statement. “Obviously, we hate each other, but Mattheo’s important to me and I know he’s important to you, too. So for his sake, can’t we just put all this animosity behind us and try to get along?” 

“What exactly does getting along mean?” 

You shrugged. To be honest, you had no idea how to approach the situation, but you figured you had to start somewhere. “I don’t know. Maybe we can grab a bite to eat. Make polite small talk. Try not to strangle each other in the process.” 

“I guess I can do that,” Theo conceded. “Why don’t we go to the new pub in the village? I heard they have fried pickles.” 

You perked up. “You like pickles? I thought I was the only one.” 

“I don’t just like pickles. I love them,” Theo stated. 

“Me too,” you grinned. “Mattheo always gives me his cause he says —”

“They taste like feet,” he finished with a chuckle. 

You nodded, laughing along. “Well, what are we waiting for, then?” 

Theo watched as you stood, smoothing the front of your skirt. You offered a hand out to him, both literally and figuratively. To your surprise, Theo took the peace offering and let you pull him to his feet. 

An hour later, the two of you were squeezed into a tiny booth by the makeshift stage. The pub was lively tonight and nearly packed to the brim, thanks to the happy hour deal on their drinks and appetizers in honor of their grand opening. 

The pickles didn’t disappoint. You ate a good amount, but Theo scarfed the whole thing down like he hadn’t eaten in months. As he finished a sandwich and gulped the meal down with his second butterbeer, you gaped in surprise. 

“Honestly, where do you put it all?” 

Theo patted his stomach, which was unfairly flat and probably housed perfectly sculpted abs despite his eating habits. “I’m a growing boy. I need to eat a lot to offset the energy I expend. Especially when I’m sparring with you.” 

“Oddly enough, I’m flattered by that.” 

“You should be,” Theo quipped. “I’ve never had to put so much thought into insulting someone until I met you.” 

“I bet you were pissed when I took your crown as the sassiest and bitchiest person in our friend group.” 

“I’ve never experienced such heartbreak,” Theo said sarcastically as he placed a hand over his heart. “I mean, to be dethroned by someone who can’t even reach the top shelf in the cupboard was truly the most humbling moment of my life.” 

“Well, you shouldn’t have assumed that I knew nothing about quidditch just because I’m a girl.” 

“I was a dick for that,” Theo admitted. “But I was also twelve. I didn’t even know what misogyny meant. I thought you were describing a disease.” 

You snorted. “Well, the past is in the past. Even though I clearly won that argument, we should put it behind us.” 

Theo rolled his eyes, but clinked his butterbeer against yours. “Cheers to that, Y/N.” 

Surprisingly, you found that you and Theo had a lot more in common than you initially thought. When he wasn’t being a prick, he was actually quite nice to talk to. In a single conversation, you learned more about Theo than you had in years. The two of you possessed a knack for potions, preferred foreign literature, and shared a love for horror movies. 

As the live band went on, Theo mumbled an obscure reference to an eighties muggle band that your mum used to blast when you were younger. 

“I can’t believe they’re covering this song,” you shouted over the music. “I haven’t heard it in years.” 

Theo’s eyes widened in surprise. “You know this song?” 

“Of course I do,” you retorted. “Mattheo says I have the music taste of a divorced country club trophy wife.” 

“You and me both.” 

By the end of the night, you found plenty of common ground with the boy you once thought of as your enemy. It was quite alarming to realize that you hadn’t argued once all night and even more so when you found yourself actually enjoying Theo’s company. Maybe Mattheo was right after all. When you stopped viewing Theo as competition, he was actually not that bad. You now understood what Mattheo meant when he said that you and Theo were more alike than you cared to admit.

On the walk back to the castle, Theo pulled out a spliff but glanced at you before lighting it. “Do you mind if I smoke?” 

“Knock yourself out.” 

The moon was silver and bright against the cloudless sky as the two of you sauntered through the beaten path. You listened to Theo recount Tom’s disastrous attempts at asking Chloe out, all the while giggling to yourself because he was a bigger gossip than you and Pansy put together. 

“Don’t let Tom hear you talking about his love life,” you teased. “He’d probably feed you to his basilisk.” 

Theo grimaced. “Half of Hogwarts would weep at the loss of such a handsome face.” 

“However will we survive without your wit and charm, Nott?” 

He chuckled as he blew a ring of smoke up into the sky. You watched it float before holding your hand out. “Care to share?” 

“I didn’t know you smoked.” 

“Who do you think taught Mattheo how to roll his first blunt?” 

Theo stared in disbelief as you took the spliff, inhaling deeply. You held the smoke in your lungs effortlessly before blowing rings of smoke in quick succession. 

“Damn,” the brown haired boy exclaimed. “Who the hell are you, Y/N?”

You smirked as you tapped the joint. “Someone much cooler than you, Theo.” 

After that night, you and Theo got on more and more. The banter and bickering was still there, but it was more playful now. Mattheo was glad to see his two best friends getting along so well. Since first year, it was all he had ever wanted. 

The days of forcing you two to hang out together was long gone. Now, you were practically as attached to the hip with Theo as you were with Mattheo. 

When Mattheo went up to the Astronomy Tower for a smoke break, he would find you sitting cross-legged across from Theo as he filled you in on the catfight between Lavender and Cho. When Mattheo visited you at the library during his free period, Theo was already there working on his History of Magic homework beside you. When Mattheo arrived at the Great Hall for assembly, he slid into the seat next to Theo as his friend craned his neck to peer at the crowd. 

“Looking for someone, mate?” 

“Yeah, Y/N said she was running late,” Theo answered distractedly. “I saved a seat for her.” 

At first, Mattheo loved the fact that you put your differences behind you and became such great friends like he always knew you would, but as time went along, your best friend noticed that you and Theo were becoming a little too close. 

On one occasion, Mattheo briefly excused himself from the common room party for a smoke only to come back to find you and Theo annihilating Draco and Blaise at butterbeer pong. He walked in right as you made the winning shot, witnessing Theo picking you up and twirling you around as Malfoy stomped off, grumbling something about an unfair play. A cheat of sorts. 

Mattheo couldn’t help but agree. Seeing you in Theo’s arms felt like cheating. The whole thing made him feel strange. It didn’t help that every time the three of you hung out, Mattheo noticed that you and Theo now had little inside jokes and references that he didn’t understand. Being jealous of his best mate was ridiculous, but yet he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that only grew stronger with each passing day. 

As you grew closer, Mattheo felt stranger. One morning, he nearly smashed his muffin to pieces when he saw you wearing Theo’s hoodie. 

“Why are you wearing that?” he asked through clenched teeth. 

You looked down in surprise as though you’d forgotten that you were wearing another man’s clothes. “Oh, I was cold so Theo let me borrow his hoodie.”

Mattheo frowned before pulling his sweater over his head. “Here, wear mine instead. It’s warmer.” 

The gesture was confusing, but you merely shrugged and exchanged Theo’s hoodie for Mattheo’s sweater. “Thanks, Matty.” 

Later that week, Mattheo found you in the stands in your usual spot before the game. He smiled when he saw his number painted on your right cheek. The brief moment of happiness was shattered when you turned and revealed that you had also painted Theo’s number on your left cheek. Mattheo nearly fell off of his broom. He was used to seeing his and only his number on you. First the hoodie, now this? 

The green monster reared its ugly head during the game itself, motivating him to play as brutally as possible. The Hufflepuffs weren’t safe from his rage and neither were his teammates. As he soared around the goalpost, he hurled the quaffle as hard as he could, fully knowing that Theo was within the ball’s radius. Thankfully for him, Theo ducked at the last second before shooting a baffled glance at his friend. Mattheo simply ignored it and kept playing. 

Despite their sweeping win, the bad mood failed to lift. Mattheo frowned as he slipped into the booth next to you, glaring at Theo’s head as the two of them sandwiched you on both sides. Across the table, the rest of the team sipped their celebratory milkshakes. 

The waitress set down a vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate milkshake in front of the three of you. Mattheo watched as you and Theo tasted your drinks before promptly taking out the straw and switching flavors. 

“Told you that you’d like strawberry more,” Theo said with a fond eye roll. 

“But vanilla sounded good.” 

“Everything sounds good at the moment, but you always go back to your favorite.” 

Mattheo clenched his jaw as you stuck your tongue out at Theo before turning towards him. “Aren’t you going to drink your milkshake, Matty?” 

“I don’t really have much of an appetite.” 

“Maybe it’s just the chocolate. Do you wanna try mine?” 

He shook his head, crossing his arms. “No, that’s Theo’s milkshake.” 

“Oh, well if you want the vanilla one instead, I can switch back.” 

Mattheo wrinkled his nose. “No thanks, Theo’s mouth has already been on it.” 

“Consider it a privilege,” Theo butted in. “Most girls and boys at this school would kill to swap spit with me.” 

“I’ll pass.” 

You cocked your head at your best friend, looking concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay, Matty?” 

He nodded rather unconvincingly. “I’m fine.”

As weeks passed, Mattheo only grew more jealous. 

Granted, he was fully aware that he had no right to feel this way given the fact that he had practically pushed you and Theo together, but he just couldn’t help himself. The closer you grew, the more he regretted giving the two of you an ultimatum in the first place. 

Before you became friends with Theo, Mattheo never had to share you with anyone. He realized now how much he had taken it for granted. Your best friend missed the times that the two of you spent alone. He missed having you all to himself. Mattheo was determined to get it back one way or another. 

When Saturday night rolled around, Mattheo made his way up to Gryffindor Tower, glaring at anyone who balked at the sight of him on this side of the castle. After shoving McLaggen out of the way, Mattheo made his way up to the highest turret and let himself into your dorm. 

You were perched in front of the vanity table, swiping your signature cherry lip gloss on in the mirror. Mattheo made himself at home, sprawling out on your bed. He knew you had plans tonight, but he was hoping to convince you to hang out with him instead. Mattheo eyed your dress, his gaze sweeping along the red fabric like a lover’s embrace. You flushed at the intensity of his stare as his brown eyes flickered back up to your face. 

“Why can’t you hang out tonight?” Mattheo asked with a pout. “Are you going on a date? Is that why you’re leaving your best friend alone to perish?” 

You shook your head in amusement before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t be so dramatic, Matty. I’m not going on a date. Theo and I are just checking out this new band.” 

Mattheo stiffened as you sprayed perfume on your wrists. “Why didn’t you invite me?” 

“Theo did. He said you weren’t interested in listening to country club wife music.” 

While that may be true, Mattheo would’ve gone if he knew you were coming too. “He didn’t tell me he was going with you.” 

“Probably because he knew you’d feel obligated to go,” you responded. “But it’s alright, we won’t make you suffer through it. Theo will keep the creeps away.” 

Mattheo did not like the sound of that. It was his job to watch over you, not Theo’s. Besides, he never thought of it as an obligation. Even if he wasn’t a fan of the music, he loved watching you jump around and have the time of your life. Spending time with you was the only reason why he insisted on coming to every concert. Keeping the creeps away was just an added bonus. 

Now, Theo was taking away both. The realization put him in a foul mood, but he couldn’t let it show. He wanted you to have a good time, even if it wasn’t with him. 

“Okay, but can we at least watch a movie and cuddle when you get back?” 

“We’re going to be out pretty late. I don’t want you to lose sleep because of me. I know you have a Charms exam tomorrow morning, but I promise we can have a movie night tomorrow.” 

Mattheo only nodded as you patted his curls and kissed his cheek again. He watched as you left your dorm, frowning into the mirror as he touched the two cherry gloss marks on his face. 

The kiss prints were already fading, serving as some sort of sick metaphor. 

To your credit, you did make good on your promise on movie night. It had been a while since the two of you hung out alone, which is definitely the only reason why Mattheo felt needier and clingier than usual. While his touchiness wasn’t anything new, he seemed determined to make it obvious to those around you. Especially with Theo. 

During breakfast, Mattheo silently laid his head on your shoulder and placed your hand atop his curls. Across the table, Theo continued gnawing away at his croissant while you told him about the new horror movie that had apparently been banned in twenty countries. 

“I wanna watch it,” Mattheo mumbled as you scratched his head. 

“But you hate horror,” Theo responded. 

“So? I still want to see it.” 

“I’ll ask my mum if she can send me a copy this weekend,” you said as you playfully tugged at his curls. “We can watch it in your dorm, okay?” 

He leaned in, nuzzling against your neck. “Just the two of us?”

“Of course, Matty.” 

Mattheo brightened at that, happy with your response. Perhaps it was petty of him, but he didn’t care. He wanted to send a message. You and Theo could be friends, but he’d always be the most important person in your life. Mattheo was your person, just like you were his. 

The others were beginning to pick up on things, despite his constant denial. It was sort of a moot point anyways, given the fact that he was single handedly proving them right with his actions. Nowadays, your friends would find Mattheo lounging on your lap, wedging himself in the small space on the common room couch just so that he was next to you instead of Theo. 

Every time you went out to Hogsmeade, he’d make a point of holding your hand and carrying your bags. Mattheo would stop mid-conversation and rub your cold hands in his, blowing on your fingers because he knows how cold you get even in the heated pub. 

“Your hands are cold. Let me heat them up, princess.” 

As you blushed, Enzo would shoot Mattheo a knowing look, which he deflected by focusing all his attention on you. Even Tom made a passing comment at all the sickening nicknames Mattheo had taken to calling you lately. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Is this seat taken?” 

“Morning, love. Do you want to go for a walk with me?” 

“Here, give me your bag. I’ll carry it for you, darling.” 

Though his older brother might disagree with his methods, Mattheo was quite convinced that it was working. Until it wasn’t. 

During the last week of December, you and Theo began acting strangely. Every time he walked into a room, the two of you would fall uncharacteristically silent. When he tried to bring it up, you evaded his questions and changed the subject instead. The secrecy didn’t sit well with him. 

After the last class of the day, Mattheo usually walked with you to the library, but every time he tried to find you that week, you had all but disappeared.

“Berkshire, have you seen Y/N?” 

“Oh yeah, she left with Theo a few minutes ago. Seemed urgent.” 

“Did they say where they were going?” 

Enzo shrugged nonchalantly. “No clue, mate.” 

Frustrated, Mattheo walked away before succumbing to the urge to throttle his friend. It wasn’t Enzo’s fault that you and Theo were acting so weird. Throughout the week, Theo would be out of their dorm for hours and hours. Sometimes he wouldn’t even come back until the wee hours of the night. 

When Mattheo checked your dorm, you were also nowhere to be found. He was trying his best not to spiral, but the nagging suspicion that the two of you were hiding something from him was too big to ignore. It was all but confirmed when he caught you sneaking out of the dungeons one night. 

You poked your head out from behind a marble column, watching students pass. Clearly, you didn’t want anyone to know that you were down here. Unfortunately for you, Mattheo had already seen you. 

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” 

His voice startled you, making you jump a step back as you glanced up at him with a nervous expression. “Oh! Hi, Matty. I was just — I was just, um, walking back to my dorm.” 

“I can see that, but what were you doing in the dungeons?’ 

“Just…hanging out…”

Mattheo could feel his blood boiling. “With Theo?” 

You gulped, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, he had my book.” 

“So where is it?” 

“Where’s what?” 

“Your book.” 

“Oh,” you said softly, avoiding his gaze. It was a tell-tale sign that you weren’t being honest. You always looked away when you were lying. “I guess I forgot.” 

“You forgot the thing that you came down here for?” 

“Hm? Did you hear that?” You mumbled, despite the fact that the corridor was silent. “I think Pansy’s calling me. I gotta go, Matty. See you later!” 

Your best friend watched as you sauntered off to Salazar knows where with a frown. Confused, Mattheo walked back to his dorm and found the answer to his dreaded question. As soon as he opened the door, the familiar scent of strawberry and vanilla filled the air. Mattheo felt downright murderous. That was your perfume. He’d recognize it anywhere. 

Mattheo glared at his best friend, who was laying in bed with a book perched on his chest. He eyed the rumpled sheets and Theo’s disheveled hair while trying not to assume the worst. 

“Is that the book Y/N lent you?” 

“Huh? What book?” 

Though he wanted very much to punch his mate’s teeth in, Mattheo restrained himself. “The book she came down here to get.” 

“She wasn’t here for —” Theo closed his mouth before nodding reluctantly. “Oh, right. Yeah. This is Y/N’s book. I should — I should return it.” 

“You’re acting weird, Nott. Both of you are.” Mattheo narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What the bloody hell is going on?” 

“Blase? Yeah, be right there, mate! I’d love to stay and chat, but duty calls. See you later, man.” 

Theo hightailed it out of the dorm, responding to an imaginary summon. Y/N and Theo. Theo and Y/N. His two closest friends. Sneaking around. Lying to him. Fooling around in his dorm. Mattheo didn’t know how to feel. He was angry, he was sad, but most of all, he was hurt. His girl and his best friend? It was the ultimate betrayal. 

Never mind that Mattheo had spent the past decade denying his feelings for you. Anyone with an ounce of common sense could see that he’d been in love with you since you were children. It was clear as fucking day. 

When Friday rolled around, Mattheo decided that enough was enough. He was going to confront the two of you. After quidditch practice, he followed Theo through the castle. The git buggered off to some dark, secluded area of the school that Mattheo had never stepped foot in. He kept a safe distance, peering around the corner when he heard whispered voices. 

“I’m telling you, he’s getting suspicious,” Theo whispered frantically. “He asked why our dorm smelled like you. I didn’t know what to say, so I bolted!” 

His heart dropped when he heard you sigh in frustration. “For Merlin’s sake, Theo! You couldn’t make up an excuse?” 

“Me? You were the one who got caught sneaking out of the dungeons. It’s not like you’re an expert on stealth, either.” 

“You know I can’t lie to him,” you exclaimed. “I’ve never been able to, ever since we were little. He knows all my tells. But, Theo, he absolutely cannot find out about this!” 

Mattheo didn’t need to hear the rest. His heart had already been crushed into a thousand pieces. He couldn't believe it. The two of you were supposed to be his best friends, yet here you were keeping this terrible secret from him. 

For the rest of the night, he sulked in his room. He was in the middle of brooding while listening to the Smiths when he heard a knock. 

“Piss off!” 

“It’s me.” 

Part of him wanted to send you away, but a bigger part — the stupid, idiotic, part of him couldn’t. With a sigh, Mattheo peeled himself off the carpet and opened the door. Since the secret rendezvous with Theo, you had apparently found time to get dolled up and changed into a pretty party dress. 

Mattheo frowned and crossed his arms. “Theo’s not here.” 

You frowned, cocking your head in confusion. “I’m not here for Theo.” 

He scoffed in response. “You don’t have to lie to me anymore. I know.” 

“You know what, Matty?” 

“I know that you and Theo are…sneaking around. Lying to me. Hooking up behind my back.” 

“What on Godric’s green earth are you talking about?” 

“Don’t try to deny it. I heard you in the corridor upstairs. I’ve had my suspicions all week. The two of you have been acting weird and avoiding me. More than that, you have your own stupid little inside jokes and you take him to concerts and you share milkshakes! Those are things we used to do together, but now you’ve gone and replaced me.” 

“The only reason Theo and I became friends is because you asked us to., Mattheo.” 

“I know that!” Mattheo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I regret it so much. I wanted you to get along, but not like this. Now Theo’s making you laugh and walking you to class and doing god knows what else with you in our dorm!” 

Your features softened as you tried to reach for Mattheo, but he took a step back. “Don’t try to deny it! I know you were in here the night I caught you sneaking out of the dungeons. I could smell your perfume.” 

Realization flooded you all at once. “Are you…are you jealous, Matty?” 

Your best friend crossed his arms and huffed. “Of course I’m jealous! I don’t want you doing any of those things with Theo. You’re my best friend. Mine, not his. I had you first. I loved you first.” 

The confession stunned you into silence. You blinked, processing the information before holding your hand out. “Come.” 

Mattheo looked like he was about to argue, but you just stared at him with determination. “Just come with me, Matty. I promise it’ll all make sense in a minute.” 

The logical side of him wanted to refuse, but he knew it would be futile. Mattheo would’ve ripped his heart out of his chest if you asked him to. You were his weak spot. 

Following you out into the corridor, Mattheo staggered a few steps back as you slipped into the dark and empty common room. With a snap of your fingers, the lights came on and voices echoed in unison. 

“Happy birthday, Mattheo!” 

Startled, Mattheo blinked at the sight before him. The common room was decorated with streamers and confetti, complete with a bright birthday banner that covered nearly half the room. There were tables filled with food and drinks, all of which were his favorites. All of his friends were present, including Tom, who stood to the side with his arms crossed. The pretty blonde beside him — Chloe, the girl Theo swore his brother was in love with — elbowed Tom, who sighed and flashed Mattheo a rare smile. Now that was something he needed to revisit at a later time.

For now, one shocking revelation was enough to deal with.

“Surprise!” You exclaimed beside him as you pulled him into a hug. 

At first, he was too stunned to return the gesture, but eventually he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a bear hug. With everything going on, Mattheo nearly forgot his own birthday, but he knew that you wouldn't. You did all of this. For him. 

When you broke apart, Theo clapped him on the back. “Happy birthday, mate.” Relief washed over his friend’s face as he spoke the words. “Thank fucking Salazar that Y/N pulled this off. Hiding this from you for a week has been absolute hell.”

“So…this is what you two have been up to?” 

You nodded in confirmation. “Mhm, Theo and I spent all week planning it. We wanted everything to be perfect.” 

“But it was hard because you were being such a nosy little git,” said Theo.  

The pieces started to click together. All that secrecy between his two best friends hadn’t meant what he thought it did. “So you two aren’t…you haven’t…you’re not hooking up behind my back?”

You and Theo stared at each other in horror. 

“Ew!” Theo dramatically exclaimed. “Y/N is like my sister. You don’t hook up with your sister. That’s gross.” 

“But I thought…you were hanging out together so much and you had all these jokes and it seemed like…”

“Please,” Theo scoffed. “Anyone with half a brain cell can see that you two are clearly in love with each other.” 

“Surprised you figured it out then, Theo,” you quipped.

The brunette rolled his eyes at you before breaking out into a shit-eating grin. "Wait. Is that why you've been acting like such a twat lately? You thought I was making a move on your girl?" Theo's eyes widened as Mattheo shifted uncomfortably. "I'm right, aren't I? First of all, I'm flattered that you felt threatened by me."

"Threatened is a strong word," Mattheo countered.

"Please, you nearly took my head off with a quaffle." Theo wiggled his eyebrows. "Second of all, I'm quite frankly offended that you'd think I'd ever go for Y/N. I would never break your trust like that."

"I know, I know." Mattheo said with a sigh. "I was being stupid, but for a second I was truly convinced that something was going on between you two. I mean, you've been hanging out so much lately..."

“Matty, do you even know what we talk about when we hang out? You. It’s always about you. You were right that we both have a lot in common. We were just too stubborn to see it, but the main thing that brought us together is that we care about you so much.” 

“Well, Y/N cares for you a lot more,” Theo teased with a smirk. “She’d like to care for you all night long.”

You flushed as deep and red as your party dress. “Oh my gods. Shut up, Theo!” 

“My work here is done. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to hit on that Ravenclaw who looks like she wants absolutely nothing to do with me.” 

“Sorry about him,” you said as you turned back to Mattheo. “And sorry that we’ve been acting so shady all week. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t suspect anything.”

Mattheo chuckled. “Well, consider me surprised.” 

You wrinkled your nose in disgust. “I can’t believe you thought I was hooking up with Theo.” 

With a boyish grin, Mattheo pulled you to his side and kissed your temple. “I’m sorry, princess. Jealousy just got the best of me.” 

“There’s no need to be jealous. If it wasn’t already obvious, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” 

“I’m a bloody idiot.” 

“Yeah, but you’re my idiot.” 

Mattheo beamed and kissed the tip of your nose. “Thank you for doing all of this for me.” 

You smiled softly, cheeks heating as he stared at you with bright, brown eyes. “Course, Matty, I just want you to have the best birthday.” 

With a smile, Mattheo leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. There was something familiar about the gesture, like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. Kissing Mattheo was as natural as breathing. It felt like coming home. 

“Wish granted, princess.” 

Later that night when he blew out his candles, Mattheo didn’t bother wishing for anything. You leaned into him as he hooked his pinkie through yours, making a silent promise. Even if it took a little jealousy for him to realize it, Mattheo embraced the truth wholeheartedly. You were his person and he was yours. As the flames died out, he smiled.

Mattheo Riddle had no use for wishes now that he had you. 

[lnfours]

summer loving (twelve) ⎸t.h

⌙ summary: your mom and tom’s mom grew up together, swearing that their kids would be life long friends. and it was true, the holland boys were a special part of your life. but on the annual trip to their beach house this summer, everything feels different. and that’s because it is. -> welcome to the official last chapter of the series! last chapter was the end of their story, so this chapter is short because it’s an epilogue, just a way for you to see where the characters are now. plus, a little look into the future is always interesting :

⌙ au: based on the book and tv show ‘the summer i turned pretty’ by jenny han. childhood friends to lovers

⌙ wc: 778

⌙ warnings: fluff. fluff. and more fluff. 

⌙ pairing: tom holland x fem!reader

masterlist ⎸ chapter eleven ⎸ listen

                              ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the sun was shining down brightly on the little beach town you and tom had grown to fall in love with. this place was your home for the summer, a home away from home. it was where you two had first met, where you realized you were in love with each other, where he taught you how to slow dance in the living room, all of it.

you smiled as tom parked the car in the driveway, nikki opening up the front door with a smile. you watched as she bent down onto her knees, laughing as she was suddenly trapped in 2 pairs of arms that belonged to your toddlers. 

“grandma!”

“hey, kids,” she smiled, ruffling your son’s hair as she pulled them closer, “miss me?”

you smiled, “we did.”

she smiled back up at the two of you before hugging you both. you laughed into her embrace as she talked about how big the kids had gotten. 

it was true, time flies when you’re having fun. and spending your dream life with the love of your life. 

“c’mon, honey,” nikki said, waving you inside, “everyone’s inside.”

you and tom followed her inside and were immediately greeted with hugs and high fives. you smiled as you hugged your mom, the toddlers letting go as you approached, knowing it was your turn.

“hi, mom,” you smiled, hugging her. she hugged you back tightly, pulling tom in for a hug. he smiled, pulling away shortly after.

you three spent the next couple minutes catching up before the door opened again. you smiled as you watched austin walk through the door, his fiancé following close behind. you smiled at them, greeting them.

however, you were nearly knocked over when your little boy and girl came flying past you, “uncle austin!”

he smiled, crouching down as they both wrapped their arms around his neck, he picked them up, “hey, kiddos. listening to your mom?”

the kids laughed as you shook your head, “less and less everyday.”

“good,” your brother joked, “you two learn from the best.”

you rolled your eyes, playfully slapping his arm. you greeted his fiancé, making sure she felt comfortable before moving to sit back down next to your husband. you watched as your kids played with your brother, smiling as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“tired?” he asked, putting an arm around you and drawing circles into your arm. you hummed back a response, to which he raised an eyebrow, “hmm?”

you nodded, “yeah, the kids woke me up early this morning because they were too excited.”

he laughed, kissing your hair, “we were them once, y’know. a long, long time ago.”

you smiled, “i know. its just hard to believe we’re not still that young. it’s like it went full circle.”

“well, if it helps, you’re still as beautiful as the day i met you.” he said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him gently as you both laughed.

“no, it doesn’t,” you giggled, turning to face him, “we’re not that old, are we?”

he shook his head, “nah, we’re still young. still full of hope.”

you laughed again, opening your mouth to say something until you were cut off by the sound of the doorbell. you spring up to your feet to answer, pulling open the door and smiling wide.

“hey, kat!” you smiled, pulling your best friend in for a hug. 

she hugged you back tightly, “hey, hot stuff! where’re the kids?”

“outside with austin,” you smiled, “where’s yours?”

your question got answered as soon as you asked it, the little boy running past his mom and up the steps. you squatted down, opening your arms as he wrapped his little ones around your neck. 

“there he is!” you laughed, picking him up as you stood up, “how’re you, bub? being good for mom?”

he gave a little smile as he nodded, “yeah!”

kat’s husband had joined her on the step with the bags. you said hi to him and walked inside with their son on your hip. immediately, he wanted to get down to run to uncle tom.

“uncle tom!” the little boy said. tom laughed as the boy came crashing into his legs.

“hey, brian! what’s up, little man?”

you smiled as you watched the interaction. if it wasn’t for the beach house, none of this would’ve been possible. you and the hollands wouldn’t had gotten so close, you and tom might not have ever ended up together.

and summers would’ve stayed boring forever. but now, they’re full of fun filled days and cozy nights, surrounded with all the people you love. 

nothing could get better than this.

                             ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌  beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

[writersblockedx]

A Rekindled Kind of Love

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - Spencer and Y/n hadn't talked since the Summer before college and then he sees her name as the only survivor in their latest serial killer case. Warning - violence, drinking Words - 3.6K

A/n - It's be a while! I've had a surge of inspiration lately since becoming a little obsessed with character ai lol and thought to write this one into a little one-shot.

masterlist

Spencer was lying if he ever called any day at the BAU normal. Between serial killers, sadists, and everything else in between, the boy had a blurred definition of normal. So, he expected anything - or so he thought. When he entered the meeting room that morning, he hadn't expected the name of Y/N Y/L/N to pop up.

"We've got three victims and, weirdly, one survivor." Garcia started to explain, clicking through the victim's dead bodies, the woman squirming at just a glance of the photos. "Whoever this sicko is, he's going after journalists. His latest victim, Y/n Y/l/n, was actually able to get away before he had a chance to kill her."

Spencer stopped. His gaze snapped up as Garcia clicked once more and he caught sight of the girl he once knew. Only now was she older, and her expression was stern. The unsub had left her features tainted, early bruises and several cuts littering over her. "She's pretty distraught says doctors, but she's alive and well."

He couldn't stop staring at her, memories of high school, of that last summer, of their blissfully ignorant friendship fueling his feelings. This was not normal. None of what he felt was normal - not for him away. "He stabs them?" Emily observed, all of the team had yet to clock onto the haze Spencer had suddenly found himself in.

Garcia hummed, "Yep, as many times as it takes before they...you know...die."

"He's aggressive, he's got no remorse for these victims," JJ spoke, glancing between her file at the screen in front of her.

"Not only are they all journalists, but they're female journalists too." Rossi added. "There's got to be some reason for that too."

Hotch nodded, "Either way, we should take Y/n into our care. She's the first to get away, I doubt he's happy about that-"

The shaggy-haired boy couldn't seem to take it. The way Y/n had gotten herself mixed in like she was any other victim, like she wasn't once the most important person in Spencer's life. "Excuse me," The boy stood abruptly, not giving any reasoning to the team before he practically ran out, gasping for breath.

The team were left with nothing. Their expressions moulding into ones of confusion, and puzzlement, "What's up with him?" Morgan was the first to question. But it was only met with the same uncertain expressions and a shrug from Hotch.

Morgan took it upon himself to stand, following Spencer out into the adjacent hallway where Spencer was panic pacing. A hand swooped through his hair as his thoughts raced. "Hey, kid, slow down," Morgan soothed. He hadn't realised the arrival of Derek until he spoke. Spencer turned, swallowing the lump which had since grown in his throat. "The hells going on with you?"

He took a breath. He evened his lungs and took a moment before confiding, "I- erm- I know her, Y/n Y/l/n, the survivor." He explained and that was enough for Morgan to understand. "Well, I suppose I knew her, we lost contact when we went to college, but we had been friends."

Morgan gazed back into the meeting room, "Reid, it's okay. She's okay, you know? She survived."

His head shook, "It doesn't matter. You heard Hotch, she's still a target." She wasn't safe and that fact was only nagging at Spencer.

"Alright, alright, how about I talk to Hotch? We'll go to the hospital, you make sure she's okay yourself?" Reid had barely agreed before Morgan walked back into that meeting room.

Of course, he wanted to make sure she was okay. But that also meant seeing her, after all these years. Spencer didn't know what had changed - if anything had. And he didn't know which option was scarier. Either way, he soon found himself at the hospital, waiting at the reception desk as a doctor went to find her.

His feet were tapping, his nerves obvious to Morgan. "Reid, calm down, she's gonna be alright," He said, but no words from Morgan or a doctor was going to help. He needed to see her.

"It's not just that I'm worried about." What if everything had changed? What if nothing had? What if-

He turned and found his eyes on her. She still had that same look. That same smile, the same soft gaze, the same ease about her that Spencer craved. But this was the very moment he feared.

She wandered up to him, quickening her pace as much as she was able to considering her state. "Spencer," She said his name like a sigh of relief. Before he realised it, her arms were wrapped around his neck, melting into his touch as if no time had passed.

"Hi," He breathed into her ear; she was safe. The hug didn't last long enough. How could it? They had 12 years of missed hugs.

"I can't believe you're here, the doctor said a profiler and then said it was Doctor Reid and I-" She trailed on, "I don't know why I was so surprised. Of course, you made it big."

Spencer shrugged, "I wouldn't call this big." The boy became sheepish, almost flushed and Derek Morgan had certainly taken notice. "I'm sorry I stopped calling and I should have-"

"Oh, Spence, save it," She chuckled lightly, "I could have picked up that phone just as well as you had. I just wish we could have met under different circumstances."

He nodded, "Yeah, well about that," Spencer turned to bring Derek into the conversation, "This is Agent Morgan, he's erm gonna help."

Morgan sent his usual cheeky smirk as he did with any pretty lady, "It's good to meet you, sweetheart. Glad to hear you're feeling better too."

Spencer hadn't expected anything less from the man. "Look, I don't know if the doctor explained it to you, but we're under the belief that this unsub may still be targeting you."

"Unsub?" She reiterated.

"The killer that went after you." Morgan answered, "Unknown subject, unsub for short."

"We erm- we have to take you in, make sure you're safe kind of thing," Spencer explained, fidgeting with his fingers as she glanced between them and the girl in front of her.

Her pupils grew worrisome, "You think I'm still in danger?"

Spencer hated that word. Even the thought of Y/n in danger made his spine shiver. "You're the first to get away, we erm- we don't think he'll be very happy about it. He could lash out, many unsubs, new unsubs especially, a victim getting away could be like a double stressor, he could be on a rampage, he could be doing nothing but think about getting to you." He realised he was rambling and his words were only worrying the girl more, "Sorry, I just, I want to make sure you're safe."

But Y/n understood, "It's alright, Spence. I'll go grab my things."

With that, a rush filled the girl as she turned her back on the two agents, wandering back into the hospital room she had come from. Spencer's eyes hadn't left from where her figure was once standing. This was personal for him - even if he hadn't seen the girl for years now. "She's not just someone from high school, is she?" Morgan realised as he observed Spencer.

He turned to him as if he had just left the trail of thoughts in his mind, "Hm?" He turned back to look at Morgan.

His response had only made Morgan smile, "Y/n, she seems more to you than that."

"It was..." The boy thought back to it, to that Summer, he didn't know how else to describe it, what they had, her. "Complicated."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

12 Years Prior, Las Vegas

Y/n always had something Spener didn't: Popularity. Well, in a way. Spencer was cast away from many of his peers. A social reject. While, Y/n was a social butterfly of sorts. She took to a crowd with ease. The type of girl that could make friends with anyone.

The boy had certainly hit the jackpot when he was assigned to tutor her. Over the course of several sessions, they had bonded over literature, future college plans and, surprisingly, Y/n's distaste to certain 'jocks' - as the social hierarchy liked to describe them as.

She was the only reason Spencer turned up to the end of year house party. Crowds weren't his thing, drinking neither. But she...she was worth it.

"Spencer!" The girl gleamed as he wandered into the house. 

He didn't belong at all. His shoulders were stiff, his glasses at the edge of his nose. But, despite such, Y/n still took him into a longing hug. "H- Hi." He greeted, his eyes flickering all over the place. From the demolished kitchen to the living room where drunken teens were dancing on top of couches and coffee tables.

Her brow raised, "Come on, we'll get you a drink." Her hand slipped into his, bringing the boy back to his attention: her. "You do drink right?" She checked as she guided him towards said demolished kitchen.

"Erm, not a heavy drinker but, sure I can have one."

"You sure?" She spoke ever so softly, "You know you don't have to."

"Just one." He offered her a smile.

She grasped a few bottles: vodka, rum, tequila. "Pick your poison."

Spencer had simply shrugged, a chuckle at the tip of his tongue, "I'll have whatever you're having."

"Rum it is!"

She poured the two the same drink - almost half liquor, half mixer. Spencer coughed when he swallowed, causing the girl to giggle, "Too much?"

But Spencer simply shook his head, "Just perfect," He almost joked as he leaned onto the kitchen counter next to the girl, "I almost didn't come," He admitted.

"I don't blame you," He gazed down at her answer, his expression urging her to add some context. "Ashley James puked up after two drinks, Kacy and Liam broke up, now Liam's making out with Polly. It's just...a mess." Her eyes rolled. "But then again, what was I expecting?"

Spencer smiled at her. She was good at knowing like everything. While he was filled with facts and statistics, Y/n knew everything about everyone. Within one look, she knew your secrets. Maybe that's why she was so good with people. "We can go somewhere else if you want?" He suggested.

His question brought along an idea for the girl. With her free hand, she took Spencer's and led him out into the back garden. Whoever lived here was almost rich. Well, rich enough for a pool and a pretty big outdoor area. "Come on," Y/n urged him as she pulled the boy towards the edge of the pool.

She slipped her shoes off, sitting down and letting her legs dangle into the fresh water. Spencer watched her for a moment before joining her, the two sipping on their drinks. "Better?" She asked him.

He nodded, "Much."

"At least we've got Summer now, no more being forced to see them assholes." She joked.

Spencer's brows narrowed in thought, "You mean the assholes that you were friends with until you met me?"

"Well you got me there, Spence." She shrugged, "Social survival, that's what I call it. It's not as if there won't be similar people in college. I mean, fucking sororities, semi-pro football leagues, frats?"

"I'm sure you'll fit in amazingly at Princeton." His smile seemed to falter at his own words.

She gazed at the boy who seemed captivated by the slowly swaying water below them, "We'll still call you know, text, just cause we're in different places, doesn't mean anything, Spencer." Y/n attempted to comfort him.

"That's what everyone says but, I don't know." He shook his head, ignoring a thought.

But she noticed it; she noticed everything, "But what?"

He huffed and stared over at her, his eyes pooling in admiration. "You're one of the best things to have happened to me in a long time you know," He offered her a smile, "I couldn't even imagine losing you."

The girl bit her lip. Something was on her mind and Spencer had noticed. He too noticed everything about her. But he didn't ask. Partly, because he didn't have the chance to. Her eyes flickered to his lips. Then to his eyes. And before Spencer could realise, she had leant in, her lips at his. Without even realising, she had changed everything for the boy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Spencer accompanied the woman towards a private, interview room. He would offer support and comfort but at the same time, he had a job to do. A part of that was questioning. She was the only person to know this unsub. As difficult as it would be for her, he would have to ask them questions.

"Hey," Emily spoke as he entered the room, two coffees in hand: one for Spencer and one for Y/n. "Coffee orders are here," She smiled as she placed them at the table between the two. "I'm Emily, Reid says you're an old friend."

Her eyes flickered to the man before she shook Emily's hand, "Something like that yeah."

"Well, we're here if you need anything, alright?" She said, "You're in good hands here, especially with our Doctor Reid."

With that, Emily left to join the rest of the team who were busy compiling a profile. Which left her and Spencer. This was the part he wasn't looking forward to. "I've erm, I've got to ask you some questions, it'll help us understand this unsub, help us find him." He explained. When she nodded, the boy continued, "I'm going to ask you to close your eyes, alright? And then I'm just going to go through the night you were attacked. Is that okay?"

She swallowed the lump which had grown in her throat, "Yeah," She muttered.

Y/n followed the instructions and let her eyelids close before Spencer started the exercise, "Okay, just go back to that night. You were on 9th Street, correct?"

"Yes."

"It was getting late, but it was summer, think about the air, was it still warm? What sort of things could hear, anything?"

She thought back to it. Y/n had just finished her work week, she was walking home from the Subway. "There's a group of girls on the other side of the road, they're giggling. Drunk, I assume."

"That's good, that's really good." Spencer praised, "Then when did you realise something was off?"

Her brows furrowed and she thought about it, the pit in her stomach growing, "Someone- someone was yelling. A man. I thought he was like bible bashing so I wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying."

"Think." Spencer jumped in, "Listen to him, pick any words, any phrases that stick out to you."

And she did so. Her mind ran through the memory, "Something, something about an agenda, the- the snowflake agenda? It's ruining America it's-" She cut herself off as the memory reached the worst part. "That's when he grabbed me." Her voice quickened, her breaths soon becoming uneven. "He had a knife to my neck- he pulled me to an ally. I- Spencer."

Her hand reached out over the table instinctively, "It's okay," He too had become panicked just seeing her's. "I'm here, it's over, you can open your eyes."

When she finally did, she took one breath. A sigh of relief that she was okay. And then, a single tear dropped from her eyeline. Spencer couldn't take it. He stood and she followed suit, "Come here," He spoke before taking her into a tight hug. "You're safe, I promise." 

She pulled away just slightly but never dared to break touch, "The only reason I got away was because I had pepper spray in my bag," She explained. 

Spencer thought on that and then an idea came to mind. "Come with me," The boy took a hold of her hand, guiding the girl through the bullpen towards the meeting room where the rest of the team had been.

The round table was scattered with files and papers. Garcia typed away at her laptop while the rest were debriefing. At the entrance of the pair, they glanced up. 

Before they could ask any questions, Spencer started rambling, never daring to let go of Y/n's hand. "The unsub was protesting on the street, he's some kind of right-wing enthusiast. He was going on about the left-wing 'agenda', about how it's ruining America." He explained. "Not only that, but Y/n used pepper spray on him."

Like that, they had something, "He would have had to go to the hospital?" JJ thought.

"Or at least bought some kind of medical supplies."

"Yeah, saline wipes or there's a nasal spray that helps the pain." Spencer went on to explain.

From there, Hotch turned to Garcia, "Cross check avid right-wing protesters in the D.C. areas, men with low criminal offences, things like hate crime. Then look at anyone whose been admitted for treatment of pepper spray or has bought any medical supplies to treat it."

Like that, the aggressive typing ensued. The team were all waiting, Y/n still at Spencer's side, anxious for the name of her attacker to be revealed. "I've got it, Tony Jones."

When Hotch stood from his chair, the rest of the team started to follow. "Send us the address, Garcia."

"Already done it, Sir."

Each of the team members stood, one by one walking passed Y/n. That was apart from Garcia who was still glued to her laptop, sending the address to the rest of the team. Spencer was about to turn when Y/n reached for the boy's hand once again. Her eyes filled with nothing but worry. "Do you have to go?"

Her question had made his heart ache. His eyes flickered to Garcia who was already glancing at the two, "I- I probably should but, but Garcia will stay with you." He offered.

Y/n looked back at the extravagant woman who was smiling, "Of course, I've got loads of things I can show you in my office!" She gleamed.

Y/n returned the smile before turning back to Spencer, "You'll be careful, right?"

The boy nodded, "Of course," He replied before taking her in his arms once again. But this time, when he pulled away ever so slightly, it was to place a gentle kiss to her forehead.

And like that, a soft smile, a goodbye, was passed between the two before Spencer turned away to join the rest of the team. She stared out the door of the conference room until Spencer slipped away. From there, she turned, a weak smile given to Garcia as she came to join her at the round table.

The other woman had watched the interaction and, while she wasn't a profiler, she wasn't oblivious to the world of loving. "He really cares about you, doesn't he?" She asked. Though, Garcia already knew the answer.

"I care about him just as much," Even after all this time, a piece of her heart still belonged to Spencer Reid - it always would.

"You're not just an old friend, are you?"

Y/n swallowed, glimmers of that high school Summer filling her brain. "It was, complicated." She described. "We erm, only really had a Summer as..." How could she describe it? "More than friends, I guess. And then we were both shipped off to college. And I mean, we lost contact. As a lot of people do." And 12 years later here she was.

Garcia offered her a smile, "You still love him, don't you?"

The girl giggled but gave a nod, "I don't think I ever stopped."

"Well, if my time with Doctor Reid has taught me anything, the way he is with you, I mean it's like no other." Her hand brushed at her shoulder gently, "I don't think your feeling is one-sided."

That would stick in her head for the next hour. While Spencer and the rest of the team were arresting Tony Jones, Garcia was giving the girl a tour of her office. Everything wonderful and weird. And while she tried her best to pay attention, her mind kept being dragged over to Spencer. If he was safe, if he was coming back...if, once again, everything had changed.

She knew one thing: she would make sure they didn't lose contact this time around.

When the boy finally returned, he practically rushed through the BAU to find her. She was at Garcia's side as they exited her office, "Y/n," He called.

The girl's head snapped to him, her pace quickening as she came to reach him, "Did you?"

He nodded, "He's at the station, don't worry." He assured.

"Oh, good, yeah," She spoke before a sigh fell from her lips. "So, I mean, what happens now? Do I just go home?" The idea of such, while stupid to think so, was almost disappointing. Going home meant she wasn't in Spencer's company any longer. And that wasn't something she wasn't to lose just yet.

But Spencer's reaction was a similar one, "I can walk you home, if you want of course."

Her smile grew, "I'd like that."

"I'll just erm," He gestured to his FBI vest, "I'll only be a second."

And so she watched him leave for barely a minute, coming back in his shirt. He took her hand, led her into the lift and pressed for the ground floor. A moment of silence. A moment of thought. One of which was urgring Y/n on.

She glanced over at the boy, "You know I always think everything happens for a reason." Her nerves suddenly flooded her body as she realised what she was about to admit, "And as much as getting jumped was not fun, I'm glad it brought me back to you, Spencer."

Y/n turned to face him, barely any space between them, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Spence."

With that, Y/n made the leap. She closed that gap, their lips meeting every so soft, ever so longing. Like they had both been waiting for this moment for 12 years. And when they pulled away, her hands cupping his face and his placed at her waist, it was like they were 18 again. "Promise we'll keep in contact now?" He almost joked.

And she chuckled, "Promise."

[layla-keating]

THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY 2.02 "Love Scene"

[nereidprinc3ss]

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you. 

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 

“Nice, nice. What else?” 

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  

You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 

“Then I’m on my way.” 

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 

You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 

His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  

At least, until he goes home. 

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 

“That among other things.” 

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 

“Okay.” 

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 

“Anytime.” 

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 

“I can’t do that, honey.” 

“Why not?” 

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 

“Because we’re not together anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 

When he kisses you, it feels like home. 

[sungbeam]

𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧

nonidol!choi san x gn!reader (no prns mentioned)

turns out your upstairs neighbor has a cat who adores climbing through your window — oh, and said neighbor is also fine as hell.

3.7k words, neighbors au (2 lovers), fluff, maybe like two swear words, drinking, lots of mentions of food

a/n: low-key just read this like ur watching the highlight reel of a romcom lol but @jaehunnyy for u 💖 i hope u like it :'))

It all started about seven months ago when a gorgeous Thai cat waltzed into your apartment via the open window. It was a late July afternoon, stiflingly hot and sticky, meaning you had your window opened and the mobile fan set up to blow cool air into the apartment.

You were, for once, not at work. Because the art museum you worked at downtown was currently undergoing reconstruction, you were stuck in your apartment trying (failing) to sell prints off your low-traffic Etsy shop while also trying (failing) to make popsicles.

“Why is this so complicated?” You grumbled aloud as you sat on top of your kitchen counter with your knees pulled beneath your chin. You scrolled down the recipe again on your laptop screen, nose wrinkled at the amount of convoluted steps listed. “Too fancy,” you decided, slamming your laptop lid closed.

Immediately, you hissed, lifting the lid to make sure you hadn't cracked the screen from closing it too hard. Thankfully, there were no cracks visible and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You could not afford a broken—

“Holy shit!” You nearly fell off the back of the island counter at the sight of a light gray cat with black tipped ears, paws, and tail seated on the floor before you.

The cat meowed an innocent greeting.

You pressed your hand to your hammering heart and shifted to get a grip on your position atop the counter. “How—? Where…?” Your eyes drifted to the open window.

Oh. Well, that would explain it.

You glanced back at the cat, who peered up at you once more. “Meow.”

Carefully, you climbed down from the counter as to not scare the creature with any sudden movements. “Hey, baby. Where did you come from, hm?” You cooed, extending your hand out as an offer to be sniffed.

The cat unfurled its tail out from around its body and crept toward your hand. With an experimental sniff, you were deemed safe, and the cat rubbed the side of its face affectionately against the back of your knuckles.

Your chest nearly exploded from the cute interaction. You lowered yourself to your knees, gently taking a peek at the silver charm attached around the collar. There you found the engraving of a star in the metal circle.

“I'm guessing this has something to do with your name?” You hummed, reaching up to scratch the feline behind the ears and head. At least you had an inkling that this little one belonged to someone. You just didn't know how to find out who they were.

“I guess you can hang out with me,” you sighed and stood up with your hands on your hips. You didn't mind the company, after all, and maybe this could be a point of inspiration.

About three hours later, the summer sun still hung relatively high in the sky and you were trying to figure out what to feed the cat when there came a sudden knock at your front door. Really, the “sudden knock” was a series of rushed, panicked DUDUDUDU sounds. You nearly jumped out of your skin for the second time in one afternoon, and even the cat seemed to leap.

Well, the cat only looked mildly annoyed that her nap was interrupted, but she seemed content to give a languid stretch and join you in seeing who was so alarmed at your door.

When you peered out the peephole, your eyes shot open.

There was a pretty man at your door.

You glanced down at the cat who looked back up at you. You mouthed to her, pointing at the door, ‘Do you know this guy?’

As expected, she did not answer. Lovely.

You weren't exactly in appropriate garb to see people. You had thrown on something cool enough to not make you melt like one of the popsicles you weren't able to make earlier, and enough to cover any necessary areas. You were sure your hair looked about as luxurious as a barn, and there wasn't a lick of cosmetics on your face.

It was fine, you told yourself. You probably weren't even going to see this guy ever again.

You opened the door. “Hello? Can I help you?” You asked through the chain linking the door shut.

The man flashed you a flustered, dimpled smile at you. His dark hair was damp, like he just came out of a shower, and he had on a muscle tee that was definitely doing its job, and a pair of basketball shorts. “Hi! So sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you've seen a Thai cat wandering around here about yea high—?”

“Meow.” The cat at your feet shoved her way between the gap you made with the door and out into the hallway.

Your eyes widened another smidge, until the man outside released a gasp of relief and bent down to scoop the feline up into his arms. You unlatched your door and opened it fully now, the man holding the cat to his face as if he was communicating with her telepathically.

“That's the cat, I'm guessing?” You mused.

He tucked her back into his arm and his smile became sheepish. “Yes, I am so sorry about her. I came back home from work and she wasn't in the apartment, but thank you for dealing with her for however long she was here.”

You waved off his concern with your hand, sending him a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it, really. She's adorable. What's her name, by the way?”

“Oh, this is Byeol,” he cooed, lifting Byeol's paw up to wave at you.

Swoon. Your smile widened as you waved back at them both. “Well, it was nice to meet you, both Byeol and…?”

“San,” he answered. God, he was gorgeous. That smile… “And you are?”

“Yn.” You shook each other's hands in the dim hallway light.

“Nice to meet you, too, Yn.” He lit up, pointing up to the ceiling. “Hey, I'm pretty sure I'm your upstairs neighbor!”

You opened the door to your apartment wider so you could show him your open window. “Well, that would definitely explain how she got down onto my fire escape,” you chuckled.

He whistled lowly. “Man, cats are scary sometimes. I'll definitely try to keep an eye on whenever she's near my window now.” He ran the back of his knuckles down Byeol's spine. “I don't wanna take up any more of your time, but thanks again.”

“No worries! Have a nice night.”

“You too!”

San began walking back toward the stairs at the end of the hallway, and you were about to close the door when you thought you heard him chastising his cat in hushed tones. You laughed to yourself as you locked up your front door. You wouldn't mind if Byeol came traipsing down your fire escape again.

And she would. About three times a week when San had a later shift at the boxing gym he worked at (yes, a boxing gym… good lord). Byeol oftentimes expected you to have your window open, and if you didn't already have it open, she would sit out on the fire escape until you did.

Two months into the fire escape escapades, you gave up and left the window open just enough for her to squeeze through while you returned to work.

San would always come down to your apartment to retrieve her, and at some point, decided to swing by your apartment on his way up instead just to make sure she wasn't already here.

By month four when the days were shorter and the nights dragged longer and colder, you couldn't exactly keep the window open, lest you wanted to freeze your ass off in the safety of your apartment. Byeol would hop down the fire escape in the evenings when you were back so you could let her in, only for her owner to come barreling down the stairs, dimpled cheeks flushed and exasperated.

“I swear she likes you more than me,” he guffawed from where he stood out in the hallway as he always did. He shook his head as he watched the Thai feline waltz around his legs once, then circle back into your apartment. He arched a brow at her. “Look at her strutting. She knows exactly what she's doing.”

You swore there was a dash of red gracing his cheekbones now.

You bit your lip through a smile. “Well, you're welcome to come in. I was just about to eat dinner and I don't really think I can finish this roast chicken alone.”

“Ah, I don't really wanna impose,” he drawled, scratching the back of his neck and peering at you from beneath those lengthy lashes of his. He knew what he was doing—he had to know what he was doing. If Byeol could strut, then so could Choi San.

He promised to take you up on your offer as long as you let him run upstairs to grab a bottle of wine to contribute.

The last thing you expected to happen was to hear a knock on your window less than ten minutes later. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound, folding over in laughter when you saw him waving to you on the other side with cold-bitten cheeks and a red-tipped nose. He clutched a bottle of red in one hand and gestured furiously to the window latch. “It's fucking freezing!”

“Okay, okay,” you grinned, walking over to let him inside. “Just so you know,” you said as Byeol welcomed her owner into your apartment, “usually it's just cats who come in this way.”

“Well, you might have to get used to a cat and a human coming in now,” he teased. San presented you the wine bottle with a flourish. “Milady, your beverage.”

“Why, thank you, good sir,” you jested and accepted the offering. “Make yourself at home!”

What you didn't expect was for such a statement to be taken so literally, and yet, you had no complaints.

Three months further along—making it seven in total since that first hot July day Byeol came in through the open window—you and San (and Byeol) were cooped up in your apartment as usual. It was a Friday night with dinner on the table, a TV show playing in the background, and a pair of wine glasses for the pair of you. Over the past few months, sharing a dinner together had become a weekly event wherein San would come in via window, and the two of you would have the evening together.

Sometimes it was just dinner, sometimes it was dinner and a movie, and sometimes it was even dinner, a movie, and drunk Pictionary. But every Friday night was yours and San's night.

Plus, he turned out to be a much better cook, so you definitely couldn't argue when he somehow wrestled his entire Le Creuset pot down the fire escape to feed you the most divine lobster mac 'n’ cheese you had ever tasted. (As if you'd ever had lobster mac 'n’ cheese before…)

“I feel like it would just be more convenient if I came up to your apartment instead,” you said with enthusiasm, your free arm flailing around as you melted dark chocolate on a double boiler upon the stove top. While San had the right side of the stove for his chicken and gnocchi soup, you had the left to prepare tonight's mousse for dessert. If San made dinner, you figured you could at least learn a thing or two about a dessert course.

He chuckled, “I mean, I'm not opposed if you ever get tired of hosting. I'm kind of a creature of habit though, which is why I don't mind coming down every week, but it's up to you, sweets.”

Oh, right. And the nickname. You couldn't even pinpoint when that started, but again, you weren't complaining.

“I don't mind hosting either,” you told him, “it's just that it's either you leave your super expensive cookware here or I go upstairs. I don't think Le Creuset has fire escape insurance.”

“You're not wrong about that.” You felt his hand gently brush against your waist as he slipped past you to get to the spice cabinet on your left. “Behind you,” he murmured by your ear before grabbing the jar of Himalayan salt (also his) and returning to his station behind his pot.

You couldn't deny the pitter-patter of your heart around him either. Things were coming to a point that you didn't know how to label. But perhaps that was the beauty of everything slipping into place. You carried on, “I think I've seen your apartment once, and that was when Byeol wouldn't stop meowing until I followed you guys.” You laughed to yourself at the memory. That had been an interesting night.

“If it's any consolation, your apartment has much more life in it than mine.”

“That's a lie,” you said pointedly. “Yours is just more meticulous.”

He snorted. “Meticulous. Might as well be as barren as a clinic.”

You passed him a glance. “I offered to paint your walls…”

San beamed back at you, dimples creating divots in the apples of his cheeks. “And I never said no! But—I do think that it should be something the both of us do together.”

Your brows creased as you took the chocolate off the stove to fold into the other mixture you'd set aside. “You wanna paint with me?”

“Yeah,” he said, almost bashfully. “I think it'd be a fun bonding and learning experience. And it would be cool to see you in your element, besides when you're drunk.”

The latter comment had you turning away to laugh. “Fair enough.”

When dinner was ready to be dined, and the mousse was freezing in the fridge, you and San sat at the kitchen island with your matching bowls of hot soup and glasses of lemon water for the night. Neither of you had remembered to buy wine for the week (surprisingly), but one week without alcohol wouldn't hurt.

The two of you clinked your glasses together, toasting to another week survived.

You took a sip, then spooned the soup into your mouth, wiggling around on your stool in a little happy dance as the flavors did their own dance on your tongue.

San smiled around his own bite. He swallowed, then said, “You know, I always know I did well when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“That cute little dance,” he chuckled. “I’m glad it tastes good, is what I'm saying, sweets.”

Your skin warmed, and you managed to convince yourself it was the soup or the heater or something and not the beautiful man beside you. “Then get used to the happy jig, because everything you cook tastes divine. You should be a chef, San.”

“I could've,” he shrugged, “but I kind of like this little life.” He gestured to you with his spoon, a twinkle in his eyes. “Don't you?”

For a moment, you let the smile slowly unfurl onto your lips. You lifted your own spoon in agreement. “You're right. It's a lovely, little life.”

Now that you were in agreement, you fell into a comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your dinner in one another's presence. Byeol was hunched over her own bowl of food just by the foot of your stool, against the adjacent side of the island. You'd gone out and bought her a pair of food and water bowls, as well as her preferred food. San had been touched by the gesture, and Byeol most definitely appreciated it.

San wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Oh, by the way, next week.”

You hummed. “What about it?”

“Are you doing anything?”

You perked up, eyebrows lifting to your hairline. “Why do you ask?” It was usually unsaid by now that Friday nights were set aside for the two of you to share an evening, which was why you were confused by his question.

And then he explained, “It's Valentine's Day, so I just wanted to make sure I didn't interrupt or assume anything.” He'd said it so casually and easily that you nearly missed the slight nervousness in his voice, or the minor intonation of hope. “I mean,” he fumbled, “if you do have something planned, then it's no worries, really. There are plenty of other weeks—”

You shook your head, finishing off your water after having scraped your bowl clean. “I'm not doing anything,” you said. “Well, besides what we usually do.” You chuckled to yourself, “To be honest, Valentine's Day completely slipped my mind this year.”

And if you were truly being honest with yourself, every Friday felt like Valent—no. You shouldn't think like that. It would only make things worse about how you felt for him now. Plus, these past few months with San felt far too casual, too domestic, to be like Valentine's Day. Was Valentine's Day not for grand gestures and romance? This wasn't grand… though, you could probably argue about the romantic part…

“No, I feel the same way,” he nodded. “My friend Wooyoung just asked today if I was up to go to a single's party, which was why I suddenly remembered.”

Ah. “Oh, are you planning on going?” Wine sounded pretty good right about now.

He grimaced. “Probably not. I—I was kind of hoping you wanted to still do dinner next week—but, like, it doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. If that's what you're comfortable with.”

It doesn't have to mean anything besides how it usually is. What if you wanted it to mean more than how it usually was? There was nothing inherently wrong with how it usually was, but you couldn't deny that a part of you yearned for more. That part of you imagined what it was like if San didn't have to come see you via fire escape, and he was always in the same space as you.

There was a pause as you wrestled with your own conscience about how or if you were going to admit it to him.

He pressed his lips together. “I've made you uncomfortable.”

“No, you haven't made me uncomfortable,” you assured him swiftly. “I just…” You sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead then returning it to your lap. “Of course, I would love to have dinner with you next week, but I’d like it to mean something else—if you are comfortable with that.”

You watched as that beautiful smile you'd come to grow more fond of blossom onto his face. “I'd be more than comfortable with that—I’d be really happy with that, actually.”

“Good,” you said softly, unable to bite your own smile away. “Then dinner next week, it is.”

There was something fundamentally different about this next Friday night compared to the others. Specifically, the context by which you and San went into the Friday evening of Valentine's Day was completely different. The apartment was aglow with the same warmth as it usually boasted, but there was a bouquet of blood red roses in a glass vase on the kitchen counter beside a bottle of red wine.

San was at the stove, finishing off the last bit for dinner before it needed to simmer for a good thirty minutes. You were in the living room portion of your apartment, flipping through the vinyl records to play before you pulled one out and set it up. As you moved the needle onto the record, you placed the empty cover back into its slot and turned toward the kitchen.

You froze in your spot, skin warming at the sight of San leaning over the island counter with an adoring look in his eyes as he watched you. “What?” You laughed, subconsciously adjusting the sleeve of your blouse.

“Nothing,” he smiled. “You're just—you’re gorgeous.”

You were sure if your face didn't give it away, there must have at least been hearts floating around your head. “You cannot just say that,” you chided weakly as you walked over to where he was, your expression growing shy.

His smile widened and he rounded the counter to stand in front of you, your back pressed against the edge of the counter. “I can, too,” he teased. He stepped back once and held his arms out, fingers flicking toward him to beckon you forward. “C'mere. Can you dance?”

“Some.” Your eyebrows arched upward as you stepped forward and took his hands in yours. “Dancing and romancing, Choi San? What magic do you hope to enchant me with tonight?” You joked, moving your left hand to his shoulder.

“Perhaps magic that will leave your window open for me on nights other than Fridays,” he said sheepishly as the two of you began to sway to the music waltzing out from the record player. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your fire escape—”

You let out a laugh, ducking your head toward your chests. He did the same, an embarrassed grin coming onto his face as his nose nudged against yours.

“That was god awful,” he winced in apology.

“It was,” you agreed teasingly, “but I'll let it slide because you're cute.”

He shot you a bright smile. “Oh? So I'm cute? I guess that makes two of us.”

You weren't really sure at what point you realized you had fallen for this man. It was sometime between the Himalayan salt lectures and the dancing like an old married couple in your kitchen, maybe. You thought about the day he showed up at your door panicking about a missing cat, and to a future where you might have found yourself in his living room painting murals on his walls. Or perhaps… not his living room, but both of yours.

As you danced with your chests pressed together, hearts beating rapidly in sync, you gazed into those beautiful, dark brown irises of his and sank further and further into those feelings. They were gradually making themselves a home in your chest.

“What're you thinking about, sweets?” He murmured as you tucked your head against his shoulder and the arm he had around your waist rubbed the small of your back.

The smell of his cologne made you inhale deeply. You could get used to this—his smell, the feel of his body under your fingertips, his presence intertwined with yours taking up space in the best possible way. “I'm thinking that Byeol is a good matchmaker.”

His chuckle rumbled through him and softly into your ear. “You're definitely right about that.”

a/n: pls remember to reblog and comment if u enjoyed!

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