#and i did realize that the recipe i read was for two right before i started and halved all the ingredients so

[jo-speaks]

good graces ft. quinn hughes

in which…

quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.

warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.

track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!

When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel

Drawin' hearts 'round our names

And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles

“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.

You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?

He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”

“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”

Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up. 

After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.

He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”

You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”

Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”

“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.

Don't mistake my nice for naive

“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.

You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”

He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”

“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.

“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.

You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved. 

You weren’t stupid.

I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys

You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

Like, ooh

Baby, you say you really like it being mine?

So let me give you some advice

After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.

“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation. 

Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”

You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”

He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”

Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”

You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”

Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”

“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.

As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.

You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.

Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”

You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.

~

“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”

“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.

Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”

He nodded.

“Then don’t lie to me.”

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

That was cool

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

Yeah

“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago. 

“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.

Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.” 

Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed. 

He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened. 

As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone. 

Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation. 

Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really. 

You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”

His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight. 

“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about. 

By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”

I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely

Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling. 

“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.

He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.

This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.

“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.

You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”

He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”

Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on

With your favorite athlete

Shoot his shot every night

Want you every second, don't need other guys

You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted. 

Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV. 

One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through. 

‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’

“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.

He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”

“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.

Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”

You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.

“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.

His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”

Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.” 

Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side. 

You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”

You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips. 

“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”

You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye

As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.

He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”

You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.” 

Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”

You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.

Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.

“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.

You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?” 

He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”

“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.

But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”

Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.

“And what?” You pressed.

“She wants to try again.”

You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”

He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.

You nodded your head, “Okay.”

“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.

Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.

“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

Oh, no

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3 

Oh

No, I won't

I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't

(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2

Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4. 

The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking. 

You didn’t need him. 

Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone. 

The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home. 

As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.

Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.

[dearharriet]

okay hello hi me again with a james potter request if u feel like it 🦌🦌 how about a drabble about reader calling james a pet name for the first time like baby or honey or something and he just melts on the spot and gives her the biggest lovesick puppy eyes ever and then begs her to always call him that and refuses to answer to james because ‘that’s baby to u!!!!!’ Or something<333 love u hope you’re well

ty for the request! <3 (wc: 495) fem!r

“It says we could use banana as a substitute for egg, did you know?”

You shuffle to James’ side as he pauses in the baking aisle, craning your neck to see his phone over the bulky shoulder blocking it.

“Oh yeah,” you hum, “I’ve seen that.”

James turns his wrinkled nose your way, a wink of amusement in his eyes.

“That cannot be good.”

Scanning the row of mixes beside the cart, you palm his side, his shirt soft and thin under your fingers.

“No, it’s kind of alright, actually.”

You blink back up at him, smiling, even when his big eyes bug even further under his glasses.

“You’ve tried it?”

Laughing, you encourage the cart forward again, and James with it.

“Can you see what we need next, please?” You croon. James’ eyes soften, and he looks back to the recipe page as he walks.

“Er, do we have baking powder?”

“Yes.”

He scrolls an inch further.

“Lemons?”

“I was thinking we’d just use that lemon juice in the fridge,” you say, shrugging.

“What?” James stops walking. “Baby, no.”

He steers the cart around, making a break for the produce section. “We are making these cupcakes right, my darling. I need all the best ingredients.”

You just laugh and trail after him. “It really won’t make a difference…”

As you catch up to him, James is hoisting a full netted pouch of lemons out of its sales basket.

“Jamie, we only need one,” you say, a bemused smile pulling at your lips. He looks to you, still holding the lemons up like a fresh catch.

“That’s quitter’s talk. We just need to make more cupcakes, s’all.”

He drops them in the cart, and then creeps toward you.

“Whatever you say, baby,” you tease.

James freezes before he can reach you. A slippery grin parts his lips, creasing around his eyes.

“What’d you call me?”

Flipping back through your words, you realize what you’ve said too late. In your mind, James and baby have been synonymous for a good few weeks now, you’ve just been trying to play it cool, and for good reason.

James will never let this go.

“I—” You huff, relenting. “Baby.”

In a split second James is around you, lemons forgotten in exchange for a snug embrace that warms your cheeks.

“James, we’re in public.”

“Who?” He asks, a grin pressed against your temple, and a strong hand between your shoulder blades.

Cushioning your chin on his chest, you look up at him. James has bigger heart eyes now than he did on your first date, which is saying a lot.

You know the two of you look painfully smitten, and that any passersby might be bothered by the PDA, but it’s hard to stifle your affection for James.

“Can you call me that more often?” He asks gently, so lovelorn that it nips your heart a little. “I really liked it.”

And how can you say no to that?

+

thank u for reading! xx

masterlist

[hxrukii]

Maybe Ace, Rook, Kalim, Trey and Azul for Pinkie!reader as well?

❝Yes a perfect gift for me, is a smile as wide as a mile!❞

╭・๑ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲︰ʚ Some of NRC student with a Pinkie Pie!Reader.‧₊˚✦

‧₊˚↷ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬)┊❝ Ace Trappola, Rook Hunt, Kalim Al-Asim, Trey Clover, Azul Ashengrotto. ❞ ⸜⸜*

↷︰ʚ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ‧₊˚✦ Reader is female can be read as Yuu. Wow, his also took a few days to make huh. Some of these are quite short cause I didn't know how to write for them, I'm so sorry 'bout that.

╰・𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬) ‧₊˚꒰ Spoiler for book 1, 3 and 5. ɞ‧✦

Will be inviting Pinkie!Reader to every Unbirthday Parth just because preparing for the Party will be much more easier with her around

Absolutely loves to see Pinkie!Reader beat the shit out of every overblot/person with her Party Canon. Laughed his ahh off when he first saw Pinkie!Reader use it against Riddle.

It was only after everything calmed down after Riddle's overblot that he actually realized that Pinkie!Reader has a canon.

Is now worried that she might actually have a bomb somewhere in Ramshackle.

For that reason, Ace tries to remain on Pinkie!Reader's good side, just so that he doesn't get bombed

Loves to eat anything Pinkie!Reader baked. Since he doesn't have to worry that anything is for an Unbirthday Party so he probably eats more of Pinkie!Reader's baking then Trey's.

Likes to mess around with Pinkie!Reader's pet alligator.

Sometimes even ends up having staring contest with it. (His competitiveness will probably get the best of him, the competition will probably last hours if nobody stops him.)

Overly positive couple.

Like neither of them ever seem to be sad. Idia is probably scared shitless of the both of them.

They also both know everybody that goes to NRC someway somehow.

Rook and Pinkie!Reader are both overly talkative. So whenever the two of them starts a conversation, it will never end. Vil has to personally come and drag Rook away for the conversation to end.

Would probably wax poetry about Pinkie!Reader's baking skill ngl.

And would also wax poetry about her musical skill ig, since Rook probably has a passion for anything art related.

Is also intrigued by Pinkie!Reader's Party Canon, he isn't worried about how she got it though.

Wonders how Pinkie!Reader manages to fit so many party decorations inside of the canon. Also, where does she keep it?

Was surprised the first time he's seen Pinkie!Reader with a Party Canon, which was during Vil's overblot, since she legit pulled it out of thin air.

Overly positive couple pt. 2

Kalim absolutely adores Pinkie!Reader.

The both of them are Jamil's worst nightmare.

Will want to host parties all day every day whenever he and Pinkie!Reader are together.

The two of them are just so positive and extroverted. They're probably also Idia's worst nightmare.

The whole of NRC are probably blinded by the positivity whenever they are together.

Was absolutely ecstatic when Pinkie!Reader pulled out her Party Canon for the first time.

Does that mean that Pinkie!Reader could host a party in a matter of seconds?! That's awesome!

Also loves to eat Pinkie!Reader's baking, to the point where he forgets that Jamil needs to taste his food before hand in case of poisoning. But surely Pinkie!Reader wouldn't try to poison him, right?

Would probably also stuff Pinkie!Reader's pet alligator with crackers just like he did with Grim. Well if alligators can eat crackers that is.

Whenever Kalim is hosting a party. Pinkie!Reader will be the first one invited. And if she's not the first one invited, then she's probably hosting the party alongside him.

Baking buddies for real

Trey would probably love to bake with Pinkie!Reader. They would exchange recipes and all.

Also enjoys being around her in general, how positivity and carefree personality is probably a welcome change for him, especially after Riddle's overblot, since he was used to Heartslabyul's strictness.

Would personally invite Pinkie!Reader every Unbirthday Party Heartslabyul is hosting since he knows she loves to party.

Was flabbergasted when he saw Pinkie!Reader pull out her Party Canon during Riddle's overblot.

Probably thought it was a real canon at first. Was about to stop her from firing, since he really didn't?t want to witness Riddle die y'know.

Only to be shocked and relieved that inside the canon was... part decoration.

Still was worried by the fact that Pinkie!Reader somehow manages to walk around NRC with a canon that she keeps who knows where.

Actually, where does the canon even come from? May end up overthinking it.

Though he is glad that Pinkie!Reader is able to defend herself, though her method of defense is rather... interesting to say the least.

Azul would probably invite Pinkie!Reader to help decorate the Mostro Lounge whenever there's an event.

Also enjoys eating her baking from time to time, but stops himself from eating to much, since he has to maintain his appearance.

Tries to get Pinoie!Reader to sign a contract so that she can work for Mostro Lounge full time, but somehow, Pinkie!Reader always manage to confuse him and refuse to sign the contract, much to Azul's dismay.

You'd think he'd be used to her strange personality since he's known the Leech twins for so long, but apparently not.

Was also absolutely mortified when he first saw Pinkie!Reader pull out a canon during his overblot.

Tries to get Pinkie!Reader to tell him where the canon comes from. Tough he still hasn't succeeded yet, but he's determined.

Will keep Floyd as far away from Pinkie!Reader's canon as possible, he really doesn't need Floyd to scare away potential customers, or blow up the Mostro Lounge.

Also very impressed by Pinkie!Reader's musical still, and surprisingly good memory.

Probably wanted to steal those abilities for Ace, Deuce and Grim's freedom, but opted for Ramshackle instead.

꒰ ◁ ꒱┊❝Back to Ace, Rook, Kalim, Trey, Azul's Masterlist❞

[chososchalupa]

Hey how about Bsd men (such as Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Akutagawa, Atsushi and anyone of your choice) cooking for their s/o!reader? Love your writing btw!

thank you!! <3

cooking for you

includes - Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Akutagawa, Atsushi

wc - 420, 239, 346, 339, 325

not proof read once again bc i am just too sleepy

Dazai -

You sniffled as you laid your head on Dazais lap, you had woken up with the worst cold and no matter how much medicine you took, it was not going away.

Dazai ran his fingers through your hair softly, “You feeling okay?”

You nodded, not wanting to speak due to your sore throat.

“You know, Mori used to make this special soup whenever he was ill. I could get the recipe from him and make it for you” Dazai smiled

You laughed softly, “I’m okay, ‘Samu. Thank you”

Dazai very rarely cooked and when he did, it didn’t come out the best and you did not want to upset your stomach even more.

You watched as Dazai pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Mori. “I have to go to the store to get the ingredients, will you be okay?”

You sighed, of course he would refuse to listen to your denial. “I’ll be okay. You can just get a can of soup. You don’t need to cook for me”

Dazai simply waved his hand, dismissing your words. “I’ll be right back!” he smiled, kissing your cheek.

You must have fallen asleep while Dazai was gone as you awoke to a blaring sound coming from the kitchen. The fire alarm. Of course.

You got up from the couch, wrapped in your favorite blanket and walked towards the sound. You walked in to see a pot of soup on the stove, and your boyfriend fanning the smoke alarm.

“You’re awake! Perfect timing!” Dazai smiled, turning to face you once the alarm had subsided.

You nodded and sat at the table, watching as he poured you a bowl of the soup he had made.

“This will make you feel much better,” Dazai smiled, placing the bowl in front of you.

You thanked him as you looked into the bowl, it looked and smelled great but your expectations were still low.

Dazai sat next to you and watched as you moved your spoon of soup into your mouth, “What do you think?”

You swallowed and smiled up at him, “It’s really good. Thank you”

For once, you weren't lying about his cooking. It did taste good, way better than you were expecting. You finished the bowl and mumbled something about needing a nap causing Dazai to smile, lifting you up from your chair and carrying you to your shared bed.

You’re still not sure what Dazai put in his soup, but you woke up feeling much better thanks to him.

Chuuya -

You opened your eyes to the morning sun shining bright into your bedroom, you looked over and realized your boyfriend, Chuuya, wasn’t in bed with you as he normally is. 

‘Mori must have called’ you thought as you rolled out of bed. 

With Chuuya gone, you were in no rush to get ready. You picked out an outfit from your closet and went to the bathroom to finish your morning routine. 

As you exited the shower, you could smell pancakes in the air. Confused, you quickly got dressed and walked to the kitchen.

“About time you woke up!” Chuuya laughed as he turned away from the stove.

You glanced down at his body, he had on your apron and was covered in pancake mix. You giggled softly as you wrapped your arms around him, “I thought you had left this morning”

Chuuya returned the hug before turning back around to flip the pancakes he had on the stove. “Nope! Boss said i’m free for the weekend”

“About time” You responded, sitting at the bar in your kitchen as you watched your boyfriend continue making breakfast.

The two of you talked about Chuuyas upcoming mission until he was finally done cooking. He plated you both a full plate and came to sit down beside you.

“This is delicious, Chu” You smiled

“I’m glad you like it” He responded, kissing your cheek. Leaving the residue of maple syrup on your face.

Fyodor -

You sighed loudly as you walked into Fyodor's office.

“What is it, my love?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of his monitors.

“Are you going to be in here all day?” You asked, sitting on top of his desk.

Fyodor sighed and turned towards you, grabbing your hand and pressing his lips to it, “I’m sorry. This is very important. You understand, yes?”

You gave a fake smile and nodded, “Of course. I may ask Sigma if he’d like to go shopping”

Fyodor nodded and gave one last kiss to your hand before turning back to the screens in front of him, “Be safe”

You quickly left the office and sent a text to Sigma, letting him know that you’d be on your way soon.

“Can you believe he forgot our anniversary?!” You asked as Sigma got into the car beside you.

“I’m a bit surprised” He responded, “He is always going on how much you mean to him”

“He’s just always so caught up in work” 

“Maybe he is planning something for tonight?”

“Maybe” You sighed

By the time you and Sigma had finished shopping, it had been well past dinner. 

“Should we go out?” You asked

Sigma gave a sad smile, “I can’t tonight. I unfortunately have plans with Nikolai. Besides, Fyodor may have plans for the two of you” 

“If he ever stops staring at his monitors” you laughed

You had finally gotten home after dropping Sigma off, you walked through your front door expecting to have to drag Fyodor out of his office yourself but the sight in front of you had made you freeze. 

“Welcome home, my love!” Fyodor smiled, as he pulled a rack of lamb from the stove. “I made us dinner for tonight. I hope you are hungry”

You couldn’t help the wide smile that came onto your face

“I thought you forgot” you whispered, going to hug your boyfriend of five years.

“How could I forget such an important day?” He responded, “I am done working for today, let’s eat and celebrate our anniversary, yeah?”

Akutagawa -

“What are you doing for your birthday tonight? Are you and Ryu doing anything?” Gin asked as the two of you walked from the Port Mafia building to her and Akutagawa's shared apartment. 

“Nothing that I know of. He hasn't even said ‘Happy Birthday’ to me yet” You sighed

“Really? Now that I think of it, I haven’t seen him since I left this morning. I wonder if he’s feeling ill”

As you approached their apartment, you allowed Gin to enter first. You went to follow but was abruptly stopped when she turned around with her finger pressed to her lips, “Listen” she whispered

The two of you stood in the doorway as you heard two voices coming from the kitchen,

“Is that Chuuya?” You whispered, “There’s no way he got here before we did. He hadn’t even left his office when we left!”

Gin shrugged as the two of you listened 

“Akutagawa, please don’t make me go over there. Baking a cake should not be this difficult.”

“They’re on facetime” Gin giggled

“Baking a cake?” You whispered back

Gin nodded before Akutagawa spoke,

“They could get here any minute, Chuuya! What should I do?!”

“Put the cake in the fucking oven! I’m hanging up”

You heard Akutagawa sigh as the call ended, “I hope i’m not fucking this up”

“Fucking what up?” Gin asked, walking into the house with you following behind.

Akutagawa spun around, his face a beat red, “I am baking a cake”

“A cake? What flavor?” You asked

“It is vanilla with chocolate frosting”

“My favorite!” you smiled, walking over and kissing your boyfriend.

“I know,” He smiled, “I hope it’s good. I’ve never baked anything before”

“We heard,” Gin laughed, “We were outside the whole time you were on the phone with Chuuya”

You giggled as Akutagawa’s eyes widened, “Go” he replied, pointing towards Gin’s bedroom.

She laughed and waved at you before turning to her room

“It will be good, Aku. Thank you” You smiled up at him

“Of course, darling. Happy birthday”

Atsushi -

“Atsushi” you whined, laying your head on his desk.

The two of you had been stuck doing paperwork since this morning, hours had past and the only thing you’ve had to eat today was a donut that Ranpo had given you in exchange for doing his paperwork as well.

“We’re almost done,” Atsushi responded, continuing to type on his computer.

“You’d be done a lot faster if you stopped. talking.” Kunikida said, glaring at the two of you

You rolled your eyes before going back to your desk. Although, it was only another fifteen minutes before you were complaining again.

“You are almost as bad as Dazai,” Kunikida said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Atsushi stood from his desk, “I’m finished mine. I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nodded as you laid your head back on your desk, this was going to take forever.

You ended up finishing two papers before your boyfriend came back, covered in sweat.

“Where did you go? Why do you look like you just ran five miles?” You asked, looking down at the bag in his hand.

“I did run five miles” He replied, lifting the bag in his hand up “I went to the store and got us food!”

You nearly jumped from your chair as Atsushi pulled two cup ramens from the bag, “This should be enough until you’re finished with yours and Ranpos papers. We can go out once we’re done!”

“You are the absolute best, Atsushi” you smiled, kissing him on the cheek as you took the food from his hand.

You went to leave the room, going to make your noodles until you heard Kunikida yell, “Get back to work!”

You went to yell back but Atsushi grabbing the food from your hand distracted you, “Go back. I’ll make it for us”

You smiled and nodded, heading back to your desk to finish up the never-ending pile of work that was waiting for you.

[choerypetal]

Under the table / Dean Winchester

summary: Dean and your relationship had been lacking a bit of spice. So, you made a deal between the two of you, amidst the teasing and perhaps a punishment or two, to reignite the excitement.

ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any little grammar errors

warning; very nsfw no plot hihi

enjoy! xo

Dean was the first to boldly admit to injecting some excitement into the relationship. Whether it was in the car or at the motel, he wasn't shy about spicing things up.

One day, as the two boys delved earnestly into another case's lore, Sam meticulously recounted every detail while Dean casually munched on his lunch. Yet, amidst their focus, Dean couldn't shake the thought of your whereabouts.

The excuse? You had informed Sam that you were out getting groceries, hoping to experiment with a new recipe you'd caught on a TV program. Tired of the usual pasta, bread, and beer that seemed to dominate the brothers' menu lately, you wanted to add something special to the mix.

"She better not make us something healthy," Dean's voice reached you just as you managed to slip under the table earlier undetected. Sam responded with a casual "Mhm," accompanied by a chuckle. Little did Dean know, you were right there with them, setting the stage for a playful tease the next time he wished to spend the night together. If only he knew tonight's menu was, in fact, healthier. You couldn't help but smile, knowing you couldn't laugh and risk giving yourself away.

Fortunately, Dean had taken a seat directly across from you, his familiar shoes and jeans catching your eye. Little did he know, he wasn't prepared for the surprise awaiting him, especially since your absence had been unmistakable.

"You know, maybe we can bring Charlie along," Dean suggested as your name came up once again in discussions about joining the boys on this mission. It was mentioned that your favorite creature was in town, and Dean couldn't bear the thought of you missing out on the action and the chance for a kill or two. Those thoughtful gestures made you blush, prompting a moment of hesitation before Sam and Dean refocused on reading more lore about the case.

Your hand delicately brushed against his bulge, causing Dean's muscles to tense, followed by a cough. You'd do anything to witness his reaction, especially when Sam inquired if he was alright. It was clear you were in for some punishment later tonight as Dean felt your familiar touch, gradually unzipping his jeans, the bulge now more pronounced. "Just a slight sore throat, that's all," he quickly dismissed.

You couldn't help but relish every moment, watching Dean struggle with excuses, particularly when it involved having a bit more fun. What you didn't realize was that even if he knew it was you all along, he didn't want you to get caught, let alone feel embarrassed as if you were fulfilling his desires. "Oh, sweet mother," he cursed under his breath, his back arching slightly as he covered his mouth before brushing it away.

Your hand then tenderly caressed his shaft, fingers deftly moving his boxer out of the way, unveiling his hardened cock. Lust danced in your eyes as warmth flushed your cheeks, leaning in to press a few kisses on its tip, where obvious pre-cum glistened. You delicately picked some on your fingers and licked the remaining. How Dean, cursed himself. When he yearned to thrust his hips the moment he felt your mouth envelopped his cock.

Dean's voice clearly heightened Sam's concern as he observed the redness on his brother's cheeks. Being the caring and protective sibling he was, Sam couldn't help but rise to his feet and check on Dean's potential fever. "I'll need to take Baby and head to the pharmacy anyways," Dean played along, going along with the idea, which meant more time to plan your punishment in return. "It won't be long," Sam said, grabbing his jacket and Dean's car keys before the sound of the vehicle faded away from the Bunker.

Alone at last, Dean removed the table curtain, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he leaned down to cup your face, devouring your lips hungrily. "Did you think I'd let you off that easily?" His voice was husky as he swiftly discarded his pants. Before you knew it, his fingers were tangled in your hair, guiding you to take him deeper. As you wrapped your lips around his cock, his moans grew louder, punctuated by your name. Leaning back in his chair, head thrown back and eyes closed, he urged you on. "Don't stop, love."

Your gaze met his, a look that undeniably ignited his desire, yet he knew he had to resist the urge to devour you right there on the table. It was a punishment he was more than willing to uphold.

"There, just like that," he murmured as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his shaft. Just as you were about to bring him to climax, your hand took over, stroking his cock. You felt his legs tense and his muscles contract as he reached orgasm. When his eyes reopened, Dean couldn't help but admire the sight before him. He knew your arousal was growing, how you longed for him to take you in his lap, but you both understood that you weren't getting off that easily.

"Nah, not yet, sweetheart," his voice grew huskier, his eyes darkening with desire. His fingers tightened around your waist, pulling you out from under the table. Your skirt rode up your thighs, revealing your obvious arousal through showing a glimpse of your damp underwear, his gaze inevitably drawn there. With a sly smirk, he knew it was payback time. "No touching until tonight—"

The door swung open, revealing Sam's incredulous expression. He was clearly disgusted to learn that the whole fever act was not just to save your skin, but also Dean's. "Under the table, really?!" To your surprise, instead of the expected look of disgust, there was almost a look of disapproval on his face.

"A room isn't enough?" Despite feeling a twinge of sympathy for him, you and Dean couldn't help but chuckle. In fact, Dean wore a proud expression and shrugged off his brother's comment. "What about dinner?" Sam then interjected, redirecting your attention from Dean’s.

"I went an hour ago," you said with a smirk. What Dean didn't realize was that it was actually going to be a healthy dinner. When you mentioned this, you could hear Sam's chuckle, a bit of payback in his amusement, while Dean's brow furrowed and he pouted. "One point from you for not returning the favor," you added, leaning in to peck his lips, eliciting a protest from Dean.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

You Never Know

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

Genre: very fluffy

Summary: Spencer wants to ask you on a date

***

You check your watch as you walk over to your desk. You thought you were gonna be late but it looks like you made it in earlier than you expected. You've barely settled into your chair when Derek pops his head around his computer monitor.

"Did you go?" He asks. You roll your eyes and reach into your bag for the paper bag half rolled up inside. You drop the paper bag on his desk across from yours.

"Yessss! You're the best mamas." Derek says pulling open the bag.

"What's that?" Spencer asks leaning over from his desk, trying to peak into Derek's mysterious sack.

"Dude there's this bakery in y/n's neighborhood that has the best pastries of all time but you have to go first thing in the morning or like as close to it as you can because first of all once they're out of something they're just out of it for the day and secondly these things are better the closer to fresh out the oven that you can get." Derek explains.

"So you send y/n to buy your pastries before work?" Spencer frowns.

"Well-"

"He doesn't send me anywhere. Sometimes I'm just nice enough to pick things up if I have time." You say.

"Correct." Derek points at you.

"Interesting." Spencer nods.

"What's your stance on donuts Spence? Do you even eat them?" You ask.

"I love donuts actually." He tells you.

"Yeah I guess that makes sense, you have quite the sweet tooth." You hum.

"I didn't realize that was obvious."

"Well, it is to me. I can't say if anyone else here would say the same but I noticed." You say.

"Oh." You barely catch his eyebrows scrunch together before he hides behind his monitor to avoid you noticing the heat he can feel rushing to his cheeks. He's probably reading into it too much that you noticed something like that. You take a sip from your coffee and turn your attention to your own computer. It's a paperwork day today it seems, as you all spend the day at your desks. On one hand, you honestly hate having to spend all day working on reports but on the other hand, no news is good news- theoretically not having a case should mean there are no new serial killers but you all know crime doesn't sleep- so there's a quiet understanding that you're just waiting for the next storm.

Still, it's been a busy few weeks so it's nice to not be jetting off to another state where you'd be arguing with local law enforcement while trying to solve a crime before it snowballs. By the time you're leaving work, you're almost caught up on the pile you'd been too busy to get to and that's sort of nice to know as you pull out of the parking lot.

~

You normally don't stop at your local bakery two days in a row but you figure you should buy something for Spencer after the conversation you had yesterday. So, you get up early enough to run by the bakery before heading in today.

"Y/n! Good morning! Same thing as always?" The bakery owner, Salma smiles at you when you walk in.

"Actually not today Salma, I'm buying for someone else this time." You smile. You maybe should've asked what donuts Spencer likes, but you like to think you know enough about his tastes to guess.

"Someone else? Not your work friend?"

"Not the one you know. A different work friend this time." You explain.

"Do you like this work friend too?"

"Salma I don't like Derek." You scoff. "Not the way you're implying anyway. He's just a friend."

"And this new work friend?"

"I don't know Salma I'm just picking up donuts." You say with a smile that you hope doesn't give you away. The look Salma gives you is enough to let you know she sees right through you.

"Alright, what can I get you this time then dear?"

"I'll take those two. I think he'll like those." You say pointing to the donuts you want through the display case.

"This one is a new recipe you know."

"Is it? I'll take one for myself as well then, and next time I'm in I'll let you know what I think." You smile.

"You have to come in soon then, you know how I value your opinion on new releases!" She says as she bags the pastries for you. 

"Of course Salma. I'll be back within a couple of days most likely, my work friend will get quite huffy if I'm not." You say handing her a ten and taking the donuts from her.

"And you are sure you don't want to take him anything since you are here?"

"Ah he got his sweets yesterday. He can wait until my next visit. Have a good day Salma." You say leaving the bakery. When you get to work Spencer, Derek, and JJ are already at their desks. You can see Hotch in his office as well as you drop your things at your desk.

"Is that what I think it is? Two days in a row y/n you spoil me." Derek spots the distinctly colored bag from the little bakery before you've even said good morning.

"First of all, good morning. Secondly, these are not for you Morgan."

"Not for me?!" He gasps and you roll your eyes.

"Spence, I brought you breakfast." You say dropping the bag on his desk.

"Really? What'd you bring me?" Spencer blinks.

"Donuts from the bakery near my place."

"Oh, the one Morgan really likes?"

"Yeah! Since we were talking about it yesterday I thought I'd pick something up for you." You say.

"And she's left me to starve in the process." Derek proclaims dramatically.

"Oh cut the theatrics. You got donuts yesterday, you weren't even expecting them." You scoff and Spencer chuckles.

"Well thank you for the donuts y/n." Spencer smiles.

"If you like them I'll bring you some more often."

"You're supposed to bring donuts for me though." Derek huffs.

"And today I brought them for Spencer. You get donuts all the time you'll be fine." You roll your eyes.

"This is favoritism." Derek says.

"No more than me bringing you donuts literally every couple of days." You scoff.

"Are you trying to replace me?"

"Replace you!? Morgan- you do realize it's just a donut, right?"

"It's the principle of the thing!"

"Okay, what if I just- don't ask for her to bring me donuts again?" Spencer asks.

"Don't be ridiculous Spence if you want donuts all you have to do is ask." You say.

"I just feel like-"

"Oh, hush. You're so dramatic. Salma says hello though." You cut Derek off.

"Now you're being mean." He gasps.

"Who is Salma?" Spencer asks.

"She owns the bakery." Derek says.

"She knows you?" Spencer turns to Derek.

"She knows I have a work friend that I buy donuts for. So when I came in this morning and ordered something different I had to explain that they weren't for that work friend."

"Salt. In the wound." Derek says.

"Will you relax if I give you half of my donut? It's a new one so Salma wants feedback anyway."

"It's not the same."

"There is just no pleasing you Derek Morgan." You shake your head.

"It's actually very easy, bring me donuts."

"This conversation has gone on too long I'm going to the kitchen." You say standing up and leaving the bullpen. In the kitchen, you pour yourself water from the Brita pitcher.

"Does Morgan really take this donut thing that seriously?" Spencer's voice startles you as you sip your water and you barely avoid choking on it.

"Jesus you move like a cat. No, but he does take getting on my nerves that seriously." You say.

"Oh- well I just wanted to thank you again, for bringing me donuts."

"You said you like donuts."

"I do! But- since I didn't get around to asking for some, it was a pleasant surprise."

"Well that's what I was going for so mission success." You smile. Spencer returns it with a bright one of his own.

"Actually, can I ask you something?"

"Of course hon. Anything."

"Well I was-"

"Good morning Spencer! Y/n!" Penelope greets happily as she enters the kitchen.

"Hey Pen." You smile at her and turn your attention back to Spencer.

"Good morning Garcia." Spencer nods.

"Oh! Y/n! You know that- task you brought to me last week?" She asks.

"Yes?"

"I got a hit."

"Seriously?"

"Have I ever let you down?" She winks.

"Oh you are truly the best there is! I'll be by your office in a little bit okay?" You tell her.

"Alrighty!" She says going, most likely to her office.

"You were saying?" You prompt Spencer.

"Is that important? Because my thing can totally wait- actually I don't think now's a good time to ask anyway." Spencer shakes his head.

"You're sure? Because the thing with Penelope isn't even work related. It is by no means time sensitive if you need to talk about something." You tell him.

"I'm sure, this can wait, it should wait. Now is a bad time I realize." He says. Your face scrunches a bit in confusion as you regard Spencer for a moment.

"As long as you're sure." You say hesitantly.

"One hundred percent. Go." He nods.

"Alright, but whatever it is, don't put it off too long, okay?"

"Promise." Spencer gives you a small smile and you turn to go to Penelope's office, wondering what could be on his mind. It doesn't come up for the rest of the day. You do your work, he does his, and though you speak throughout the day he at no point brings up the million dollar question he wanted to ask you this morning, and honestly by the time you're going home you've kind of forgotten about it. It's not until you're back at your place that it comes to mind again and that's only when Spencer calls you pretty much as soon as you step through your front door.

"You have insane timing, you know you called me just as I stepped into my apartment?"

"It usually takes you approximately 23 minutes to get home from work so I took a guess at when you'd be off the road based on when you left. Didn't think I'd be that on the nose though." Spencer says.

"Well- I hope everything's alright, seeing as you're calling me and we just left work at the same place. To what do I owe the pleasure?" You ask.

"The question I wanted to ask you this morning. I promised you I wouldn't put it off too long. I actually figured it would be easier for me to ask you this over the phone so I called." Spencer says.

"Oh yes. What ya got for me, sweetness?"

"I know that we're- coworkers and this might make things weird or whatever but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go on a date with me? You of course don't have to say yes and if you don't I promise not to make things awkward at the office - we can just pretend this never happened but I- couldn't just not at least ask."

"A date?" You blink. Spencer wants to go on a date with you.

"Yes. Only if you want to, no pressure. I really don't want you to feel pressured or anything. It doesn't have to be a thing if it doesn't-" 

"Spencer!" You cut him off.

"Yes?"

"If you're going to ask me on a date you have to give me a chance to answer beloved." You smile.

"Oh- right. Sorry."

"I would love to go on a date with you."

"Seriously?"

"Of course." You say. Spencer lets out a relieved sigh that makes you want to giggle.

"Cool." He breathes. "I have to plan. I'll call you once I've sorted everything out. Is that okay?"

"Works for me." You nod even though he can't see you.

"Okay. It'll probably take me a while though so- in case it's too late to call you again tonight, good night."

"Spencer."

"Yes?"

"Don't obsess over making it perfect. I'll enjoy whatever we do as long as we're together. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He says softly.

You hang up before you end up dragging out the conversation and also so you can let out a ridiculous squeal that you would never let Spencer hear. You're... giddy. Like a teenager all over again. And you have to force yourself to go about your evening routines as opposed to just waiting for Spencer to call you all night.

***

[festivalsofmargot]

Pining in Potions Class {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: Sebastian Sallow is forming a huge crush on you, and it’s hitting him all at once in a very annoying way. Something as simple as not being partnered with you in potions class eats away at him. Gotta love some jealous Sebastian. Takes place after MC has met Anne and before completing his final mission. Some levity to enjoy being students with crushes.

Word Count: ~ 2,600

Warnings: None really, just some Hogwarts students crushing on each other from afar.

Author’s Note: You ever get in trouble with a teacher in class and look at your friend who’s trying not to laugh then you struggle not to laugh? That’s exactly the experience I was thinking of writing this haha. Come on, Sebastian Sallow and MC are the next Ron and Hermione, you can’t convince me otherwise. (Though I really head cannon over Sebastian and a hufflepuff) I wrote this so it was gender neutral and non house specific.

Songs (if interested): 

Hold Me Tight - Berlinist

She - dodie

WACKY - Matt Watson

Lady May - Tyler Childers

That day in potions class, Professor Sharp had told the students to partner up for the day’s brew, the focus potion. You and Garreth Weasley, being near each other already, looked at one another and gave an innocent shrug of your shoulders, agreeing to partner up.

Sebastian had partnered up with Natty and couldn’t help but glance your direction. He felt a pang of jealousy when he saw how close you and Garreth were standing when reading over the recipe in the text book. Quickly convincing himself he wasn’t bothered, he looked down at his and Natty’s station, trying to focus.

But he was bothered. You had still been around to help whenever he asked, but he couldn’t help feeling this distance starting to grow between the two of you. He had found himself coming up with any and every excuse to get you to help him with something, otherwise he didn’t think he’d be able to see you outside of class. He noticed you had a lot of assignments to do that required you to leave Hogwarts so he’s offered to go along to help. But every time he did you turned him down, saying you understood how busy he was with his research and would ask Poppy or Natty if you needed anything.

Today’s missed opportunity caused him to tap his fingers on the desk in annoyance as he looked over the ingredients. He wished he had some sort of a heads up if they were going to need partners in any of the classes they shared together. That way he could be proactive with where he sat next time.

“The reason I’ve partnered you up today,” Professor Sharp began, “is not because of the difficulty of the potion, the potion’s ingredients are few and very easy to keep balanced. The real challenge lies in the preparation of the ingredients. It will be strenuous work squeezing the juice from your dugbog tongues." The class made a collective sound of disgust which brought an amused smirk to the Professor’s face. 

Among the class’s sounds of repulsion, Sebastian heard you trying to stifle your giggles. His envy only grew when he realized your laughter was a response to something Weasley had whispered to you.

“Now, a slimy dugbog tongue will work fine, but a dried up tongue will make the potion not only more effective, it can last longer as well. Use the tools I’ve given to you to dry out the tongues, your arms will get tired so let your partner know when you need them to take over. Begin.”

Sebastian and Natty gave each other an inquisitive look, unsure of how to get started. 

“I guess we’ll start with the rolling pin?” Natty suggested, grabbing it and then making work of squeezing the juice out of the tongue. It was much harder than she expected. The more she rolled, the tougher it felt. “Whew! This is going to tire me out fast, be ready to switch, Sebastian.”

“Right.” Sebastian said. While he waited for Natty to finish her round, he couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering your way. He found it cute how you were trying to stand on your tiptoes when rolling out the dugbog tongue, hoping gravity would help you out if you were able to get more of your weight on it.

“Woah, Garreth.” You said, letting out an exhausted breath, feeling the burn in your arms. “Would you mind going to hang up my robes while I do my turn?” You asked as you shed the garment. You weren’t a stranger to physical labor, you knew when you were going to work up a sweat.

“No problem.” Garreth said, taking your robes and shedding off his own as well. “Was going to do the same myself. Not my first dugbog tongue, unfortunately.”

As Garreth walked off to the back of the class to hang up your robes, you rolled up your sleeves and got back to work.

Sebastian had a slight longing it was him who you had asked to hang up your robes as his eyes roamed up and down your backside. He didn’t think the school uniform fit anyone quite as well as it fit you. Realizing what he was doing, he mentally chastised himself and snapped his attention back to his table. At that point, Natty was holding out the rolling pin to him. He took it from her and she began shaking out her arms, seemingly too worn out to tease him if she had noticed his staring.

“Go as long as you can Sebastian, I might not have paced myself very well and overdone it.”

“Don’t worry, Natty. I got this.” Sebastian assured her, but as soon as he began rolling out the dugbog tongue he understood why everyone said it was so difficult. There was barely any squish to the thing! It was like trying to get orange juice from an orange made of marble. He poised himself, took a deep breath, and leaned forward, beginning his rolls again.

It had been a good few minutes of rolling when your laugh broke Sebastian’s focus, stealing his attention again.

“Garreth, stop it!” He heard you jokingly chide among the class’s chattering voices. While forcing himself to keep rolling, he looked over to see Garreth laughing with you, trying to get his hands on the roller while you were still giving a go at the dugbog tongue.

“Alright, we’ll do it together then if that’s what you want.” Garreth quipped. Sebastian’s stomach dropped when he saw the red head put both of his hands over yours on the roller to help put more force on the dugbog tongue.

“You’re a piece of work, Garreth.” You snickered, pulling away and playfully smacking his arm. Garreth shot you a sly smirk as he got into a better position to start his rolling.

“Don’t even try to hide it, you love having me as a potions partner already.” Though you shook your head at him, Sebastian noticed the amused smile gracing your lips.

Getting more fed up than tired, Sebastian stepped back from rolling and looked at Natty. “Alright, your turn.” He said with a huff. He took off his robes as well and offered to take Natty’s. 

Sebastian tried to catch your eye as he walked to and from the back of the classroom but to no avail, you were too focused on the dugbog tongue and Garreth’s jokes. He returned to his station and took the rolling pin back from Natty, his annoyance fueling him.

“You take over.” Garreth said, handing you the rolling pin. “I’m going to snag some dittany leaves.”

You let out a sigh at both beginning your rolls and what Garreth had just told you. Dittany leaves were not on the ingredient list and you both knew it. “Please stay here.” You pleaded.

This time, it was Sebastian who started to crack a smile as he eaves dropped on the two of you. Maybe Garreth can turn your oh so hilarious potions class into a nightmare. 

“Trust me, it’ll be a simple hybrid of a focus and wiggenweld potion.” Before you could protest further, Weasley had already darted towards the ingredient shelves.

You, not having the energy to call after him again, groaned and continued rolling. When he returned with a goofy smile on his face, you couldn’t fight back your guffaw at his ridiculous antics, letting out an adorable snort. “Garreth, I’m going to kill you.”

“Relax, I’ll take the blame if things go wrong. Just act like you didn’t know I added the leaves.”

Just as quickly as his smile formed, it vanished from Sebastian’s face. That was his move. He had taken the blame for you when you two got caught in the restricted section in hopes to impress you a bit. Surely taking the fall in the library was a lot more impressive than taking the fall for a potion mishap.

“Alright class, time is up on drying out the tongues. Go on and place all the ingredients in for your focus potion.” Professor Sharp instructed.

Sebastian and Natty put in their ingredients and began stirring, and sure enough, the pot turned the right shade of blue they needed. 

Suddenly, a whizzing noise came from yours and Garreth’s pot, grabbing everyone’s attention in the class including Professor Sharp’s. The whizzing noise grew louder and louder. The two of you looked at each other in panic, then out of the pot burst a small, smelly black cloud, giving a pathetic poot noise.

The whole class burst into laughter, including Sebastian. He couldn’t see your face because you were hiding it behind your hands, but he could tell you were laughing as well due to your shaking shoulders. Professor Sharp limped his way over to you and Garreth, the exhausted look on his face implied he knew it was more Garreth’s doing than yours.

It was then you finally looked Sebastian’s way, your face turning to a mix of hilarity and pain as you grabbed the side of your stomach from laughing too hard. You gave him a helpless face, hoping to convey to Sebastian how absurd working with Garreth was.

Sebastian gave you a smug look and began clapping his hands, “Well done.” 

You gave him a small smile and an oh well shrug and brought your attention back to Professor Sharp. 

The class had quieted down at the seriousness in Professor Sharp’s tone. As you and Garreth were getting a good scolding in front of everyone, Sebastian noticed you were biting the inside of your cheeks to prevent yourself from laughing further. He had to quickly look down to his feet, sealing his lips together as tightly as he could to stop any chuckles of his own from coming through. 

As much as he didn’t like the idea of getting in trouble with Professor Sharp, he couldn’t help but want to be in Garreth’s position. He wanted to be the one that made you laugh like that. He wanted to be the one who’s arm you playfully smacked. He wanted to be your partner in crime.

You made him feel a levity he hadn’t felt since Anne got cursed. Something about you drew him in and he found himself at ease whenever you were around. At first he didn’t like it, convinced himself you made him lose focus on finding a cure for his sister. But after everything you’d done so far to help him, realizing his sister had just as much fun around you as he did, and witnessing how willing you were to go into the unknown, he realized you were progressing things more than anything.

“Let’s be grateful it was only dittany leaves you added, Mr. Weasley.” Professor Sharp reprimanded, then turned to make his way back to his desk. “Well, with that rather exciting end to class, you’re all dismissed.”

As everyone made their way out of class, you and Garreth stayed behind to clean up the mess he caused.

Sebastian kept an eye on you in his peripheral vision as he and Natty gathered their robes and slipped them back on. He took this chance to grab yours and bring them over.

“Aw thanks, Sebastian. You shouldn’t have, I really appreciate it.” Garreth wisecracked as you and him were scrubbing the table.

“Shut up, Weasley.” Sebastian said with a chuckle, handing him his robes, then held up your robes so he could help you into them.

Your scrubbing slowed to a stop and a blush creeped up your neck. Sebastian had never done anything like this before. You tried to calm yourself as you turned and let him help you get your robes on. 

Shrugging them on, you turned and thanked him. You met his expectant gaze and, after a moment, realized he was waiting for you to finish up so you could walk to your next class together. “Oh, um... you may have to go on without me. It might take us a while to finish up here.” 

You also needed a second to yourself to breathe because Sebastian’s gesture had thrown you for a loop. He needed to be careful doing things like that, because you’d look too much into it and convince yourself he liked you back. The thought of burdening him with your feelings seemed so selfish. He had a cursed sister to help, he didn’t need some new Hogwarts student pining for him and making his life more complicated. He was already taking time out of his day to help you catch up on spells, no way you could ask any more of him.

Sebastian couldn’t help but feel disappointed, and it showed on his face. “Alright.” He rocked back and forth on his feet awkwardly. “I suppose I’ll... catch up with Ominis and see you in charms then?”

You gave him a smile and simple nod of your head. “See you there.”

He forced a smile back then slowly made his way out of the potions classroom, kicking the dirt at his feet as he went.

You got back to cleaning with Garreth, who was staring after Sebastian. Then he looked to you, “Well, that was downright awkward.”

You could only cringe. “Sorry, Garreth.”

“No need to apologize to me. It was Sebastian’s heart you broke back there, not - ow!” He was cut off when your elbow jammed into his ribs. 

“Shut up and help me clean.” Deep down you were hoping it was true that Sebastian was disappointed he couldn’t walk with you to class. You wanted to live in that fantasy even just a little. But, realistically, he probably wanted to update you on what he found in Salazar Slytherin’s spell book since he couldn’t speak about it with Ominis.

The blush made its way back when you began to think about his forearm muscles flexing as he was rolling out his and Natty’s dugbog tongue. You were extra thankful you partnered up with Garreth, there was no pressure and he had made it fun. If you had partnered with Sebastian, you would have been a bumbling mess, unable to focus on the assignment. Probably would have had to reread the ingredients a few times over even though there were only three items. Merlin’s beard, you were hopeless.

Lately, it had been difficult for you to be around Sebastian. He had been making you so nervous, it was beginning to get frustrating. You wish you could go back to how it was when you first met. You were so overwhelmed trying to catch up with the other fifth years, you couldn’t overthink things when you were together even if you wanted to. But you’ve been getting the hang of things and excelling in your coursework, wielding magic became second nature. You didn’t need to put all your focus on classes anymore, so that freed up a lot of room in your mind for Sebastian.

With a defeated sigh, you and Garreth finished cleaning up your potions station. You grabbed your books and waved goodbye. As soon as you left the classroom, you looked up to see Sebastian leaning against the wall. He had decided to wait for you after all.

He pushed up off the wall and walked up to you, a smile spreading across your face. He took the quickest glance at your lips, catching himself before he could linger. Without warning, he grabbed your books and began walking away.

“Shall we?” He asked over his shoulder.

You pursed your lips as you watched him. Surely nothing to get your hopes up over, right? Right, surely nothing. Then you moved to join his side.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Sprinkles

about this: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARC SPECTOR (aka the love of my life). gn!reader. contents: a birthday fic, illusions to abuse/mental health issues, canon typical mentions of DID, internal angst, fluff, kissing. wc: 738. not beta’d.

moonknight masterlist

Marc wakes to the smell of something distinctly sweet, though he isn’t sure what it is. He is hit with that deep sadness that has rooted itself inside of him since he was just a little boy. Another year has passed— he’s made another trip around the sun. Another year to remember and forget, to fight his demons, to look in the mirror and be nothing but a grim reminder of his broken family.

But, then he hears a familiar tune, a whistle floating through the air that makes him feel light. Your whistle. A new reminder that he has a new family. That in some ways he created a new family within himself, one that you readily accept.

He turns to bury himself in your pillow, smothering the goofy grin on his face. He’s still growing used to this feeling, of being happily and safely in love.

There is the patter of your feet, the chatter of dishes, the sound of a tea kettle. When he finally sits up, there’s a card with his name scrawled across it on his bedside table, along with a small heart-shaped box of chocolates.

He laughs as he reads the card, though your sentiment is sweet and means a lot to him, given his tumultuous childhood with little joy.

For the man who has a sweet tooth that rivals a 7-year-old. You deserve every confection on this earth— none are sweeter than you. All my love.

Marc tucks the card into his drawer, along with a few other things you’ve gotten him, a watch from his father, and his old wedding band. Things with meaning. He picks up the box of chocolates and heads out to the kitchen where he knows he’ll be met with the happiest sight on earth— you.

“Mornin’,” He calls out to you, his voice still rough from sleep.

You whirl around, fixing him with a smile so wide and genuine it makes his cheeks warm. “Good morning, lovey. Sit sit, it’s almost done,” You gesture to the kitchen table.

Marc sits as instructed, watching patiently as you start to get everything ready. You set down in front of him: coffee that he knows will be perfectly made, two different stacks of what both seem to be funfetti pancakes, extra sprinkles, whipped cream, and syrup.

“Did you know that most funfetti pancake recipes don’t call for any actual funfetti cake batter? Seems fraudulent don’t you think?” You ask as you fix a plate for yourself and sit beside him.

He hums in agreement. “Hence the two different kinds?”

“Well I wanted to see which you liked better, a traditional recipe or mine,” You reason, stabbing a candle into both of his stacks so that you can light them. Leaning close you, brush your lips against his cheek as the flames flicker.

At this moment, Marc feels like the only people that exist are you and him. He’s overwhelmed with happiness and tenderness before you even speak another word. Marc wants to be alive. He wants to live with you, year after year. He wants to know who could be with you by his side.

As if you’ve read his mind, you whisper to him, “Happy birthday, Marc Spector. I hope for you, more love, more growth, more happiness, and contentment.”

Marc inhales shakily, his eyes growing wet with tears. He nods, reaching out to grasp your hand and squeeze, hoping that the gratitude he’s feeling is clear. You raise his hand, kissing it gently before gesturing towards the candles.

“Make a wish, Marc.”

He could. He lets his eyes flit around the space, his mind flitting through ideas as he takes in his surroundings. A loving light in your eyes. The sweet scent of funfetti pancakes. Coffee the color of dark caramel. The perfect box of chocolates. This place that you both call home. Marc realizes he loves things just the way they are right now. He closes his eyes and wishes that every day will hold even a fraction of the warmth it does right now.

He guides a hand to your chin, pulling you close by it so he can press a grateful kiss to your mouth. “Thank you, sweetheart, all of this is great. More than I could’ve asked for.”

“Get used to it, Spector,” You laugh, mouth brushing his.

“I’m working on it, but for right now, I think it’s time for me to try some pancakes.”

moonknight taglist: @ninebluehearts , @rmoonstoner, @later-gators12, @foreverinwanderlustt-blog, @aleeb, @eyelessfaces, @marc-spectorr, @missdictatorme, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @campingwiththecharmings, @whatthefishh

[fatuismooches]

How do the Harbingers spend Christmas/the holidays with their lover? What do they do with the reader?

Imagine spending Christmas with the Harbingers, set in a modern world. [I also listened to Last Christmas while writing this. Maybe that will enhance your reading.]

Pierro never had time for Christmas before. The holidays always flew by for him, since he was always so busy working. Or more like, he continued to work as there was no reason for him not to. He had no one to spend time with, so why should he take a break? That was until you slid into his life and forcibly stopped him from doing that ever again, literally scolding him for even thinking about not being home for the holidays. Though, he doesn’t really know what to do. I mean, he’s aware of what people do during these times, but do you want to do all of that? How do you celebrate? What you came to realize was that he doesn’t like to do much during the holidays. All he really wants to do is spend time with you. And so, he is content with pretty much anything you choose to do.

Really, Pierro has come to enjoy and appreciate even the very simple things that occur between the two of you, that may seem boring to others. Reading out the complicated instructions on a package or recipe, even stealing his coat in public (which he always tries to hide from the eyes of others due to embarrassment, and also not wanting others to see you.) Reading Christmas novels with you comes to be one of his favorite traditions. It may not be a typical Christmas, but it’s one with you, and that’s all that matters to Pierro.

Capitano is really amazing during the holidays. Why? Because it’s always cold and wintery and he gives the best cuddles during these times. I don’t know why but I can see him unironically liking ugly Christmas sweaters. You originally brought him one as a joke but he actually started to wear it around the house. Most of the time you don’t mind because laying on his chest with it on is very soft and nice. Capitano is also the type to just go along with whatever you say because he rarely ever argues with you, plus he has no idea how to be festive so he just follows your lead. You find this adorable since he’s usually regarded as the captain who everyone follows, but when he’s with you, he’s hovering over your shoulder trying to mimic your movements.

You handle all of the cooking and stuff along those lines. It’s not like Capitano can’t cook, but rather, every time he tries to handle the ingredients, they always get up wrangled or mashed up due to his extreme strength (he apologizes so seriously every time and you have to hold yourself back from dying of laughter.) He feels bad for not helping with anything, so you let him do the mixing and beating parts. (Do not let him crack an egg.) Though, Capitano handles all of the heavy lifting. You two always get a lot of stares in the supermarket, because there’s this tall, hulking man, trailing behind you carrying dozens of items easily, while you’re leading him around. He doesn’t even let you hold a purse or bag. Singlehandedly carries the tree up the stairs as well. Capitano comes to enjoy the holiday more than he thought. He has some stories to tell his troops now.

Dottore on Christmas is… honestly, I don’t know what to write. He is not a festive man at all, does not care about it whatsoever. He will stand there and watch you if you try to put up lights or a tree and laugh when you fail. You will not be able to convert him so I don’t suggest trying. At the very least, you can try to put on a Christmas movie. He will critique it, point out the awful cliches, the overused plot points, the corny romance, and much more. You hear more of him talking than the actual movie, but it’s the time together that matters, right?

Though, if there’s one thing he appreciates, it’s the delicious food. Zandik did not care much for the taste of food before, only viewing it as a form of sustenance, but he can’t deny that your cooking is exquisite. However, he likes to experiment a lot of course, so there have been times he added random ingredients behind your back. You don’t find out until you tasted the final product - it either tastes God-awful or surprisingly good! In general, a frequent pastime for the two of you is making a small batch of a new recipe, and Zandik throwing in whatever he thinks will somehow enhance the flavor. Either way, he is smiling maliciously and eating it since the taste does not matter much to him. Curse that maniac genius meanie. >:(

Columbina enjoys the holidays a normal amount. She really likes shopping for cute clothes for the two of you, getting Christmas drinks, eating sugar cookies and hot chocolate, and all of the other sweet things couples do around this time. Around the holidays she gets especially clingy and cuddly - it’s her way of showing how grateful she is for you. Columbina also loves to steal your sweaters too. She likes to take photos with Christmas filters with you and post them to the group chat - the ones that add Santa hats and beards, or reindeer antlers, or falling snowflakes - you name it. She likes to take photos in general - she is really photogenic, in your opinion. Even when she’s not posing, she manages to look so beautiful especially when it’s snowing.

On Christmas day it is a challenge to get yourself and her out of bed. Columbina literally holds you hostage in her arms, refusing to let your warmth leave her. She would honestly spend the day in bed with you and some snacks while watching movies if you didn’t force her to get out of bed with the promise of gifts and more cuddles later. Overall, Christmas with her is sweet and endearing. She’s always near you, likes to drape yourself over you when you’re opening your gift, and giggles in your ear. Smothers you with kisses by the time the day is up.

Arlecchino on Christmas is surprisingly sweet. You would think that she spends it alone, but in recent years, she had begun to spend the holiday in the orphanage she had opened up not long ago. Arlecchino and you always make sure that kids have delectable dinner on Christmas day. There’s always a really long table with chairs and plates for all of the dozens of kids. (They tend to fight over who gets to sit around Auntie Arlecchino and you, which secretly embarrasses her.) She is also very good at wrapping gifts. Arlecchino became a master of the skill after helping to wrap dozens of gifts for the children at her orphanage. In the days coming to the holidays, you two wrap gifts for the kids after she teaches you how to do it efficiently.

After all the kids are put to bed after an eventful day, she likes to spend some time with you on her lap near the fireplace, maybe some wine too to wind down. Arlecchino has never been a very wordy or gushy person, so it greatly surprises you when she confesses how thankful she is for you, and how she loves you very much for staying with her. (The children will never stop bringing up how they found the two of you asleep together the next day.)

Pulcinella (platonic!) has seen and experienced a variety of Christmases. He knows the dos and don’ts of how to celebrate. He knows which decorations go with each other, what theme to do this year, the kinds of food people would like the most, and more. He shows you every step of his planning, wanting you to carry on the traditions. However, the one thing he won’t teach you is his secret stash of scrumptious recipes that he refuses to give to you until he’s in his grave. You can whine all you want but he is not giving you that mac and cheese recipe.

He does not have any family left besides you so he encourages you to invite your friends over for Christmas. You invite your friend group (the Harbingers) and even though he’s seen them a few times before, he always scrutinizes them carefully to analyze who you’re hanging out with (especially Dottore - heavily on Dottore…) You all have a good time - he usually leaves you alone with your friends as he doesn’t want to intrude on your youth. But after everyone leaves, he likes to watch these old black-and-white Christmas films with you and tell you about how back in his day… *insert lots of stories and his grandpa rambling.*

Scaramouche has never cared for the holidays. He had long been estranged from his mother, having cut contact with her, therefore having no one to be with during the festive times. But Kunikuzushi declared to himself and everyone that he did not care. It didn’t bother him as he saw families shopping for the holidays, or couples getting Christmas-themed drinks together. Hmph, he couldn’t care less. Well, that was until you came into his life, and brought the holiday spirit with you. When you wake up one day, all excited and way too early for his liking, taking a bunch of utensils and cooking stuff out, retrieving oval lights he didn’t even know you had, Kuni questions you in a sleepy stupor - what the hell are you doing? After you recovered from that jaw-dropping statement, you immediately exclaim about the holidays and how you must prepare! There was no time to waste! 

But Scara just rolls his eyes and slumps back into bed, confusing you. And that’s when it clicks - your lover has probably never understood the point of holidays like these, which stemmed from his lack of love and familial bonds during his upbringing. He most likely thought this was stupid and a waste of time. So you gently introduce the idea to him. You ask him to help you bake cookies (to which you have to add less sugar since he doesn’t like sweets.) He begrudgingly helps you make a small Christmas dinner, and when you teasingly throw some flour at him, he returns it ten times more. You teach him how to wrap gifts, too. 

He ends up admitting that all of the activities were oddly comforting. Scaramouche opts for the more homely and loving aspect of Christmas, not caring much for the gaudy extra decorations or tree or whatever. It takes him a couple of Christmases to truly warm up, but deep down he can’t deny that spending time with you on the holidays is something he secretly looks forward to every year. Perhaps one day his mother could join the two of you. One day, maybe.

Sandrone was not very interested in the holidays either, more because she had better things to do rather than to partake in some silly little celebration. Why would she care about such things when she could be researching? Even as a child she saw it as useless, preferring to lock herself in her room doing far more productive tasks. Well, that changed when you came along, begging her to at least semi-join you in your favorite traditions. For the first time in her life, she finds herself helping you haul a small tree into your shared place and making ornaments out of her spare parts from engineering. Also, Sandrone likes to observe people on Christmas with you. Seeing people flood the stores searching for a last-minute gift, or even slip on snow, she finds it amusing and interesting.

If you’d like she would make her robots hang up the decorations instead so that you could just relax with her (she was getting a bit annoyed at how your presence was always so far away.) After spending the days with you, Sandrone finds the idea of the holidays a bit more appealing now. (She began to dress up her robots in small Christmas outfits that the two of you sewed together, like elves and reindeer. She would die of embarrassment if anyone else saw.)

La Signora gets invited to a lot of Christmas parties and always wears a new dress to each of them. Can’t be seen wearing the same outfit to an event. Though after she met you, she decided to spend less time going to these parties and spend more time with you. How, you ask? She’ll host her own party of course, with her darling lover. Signora dolls you up real good and makes sure you look absolutely stunning. She wants everyone to know that you two belong to each other, to not come near her territory. (The message comes through loud and clear.) Signora is an excellent host, but she never leaves your side for too long. Takes over uncomfortable conversations for you and watches out for any possible weirdos who try to talk to you. She makes a toast to you and praises you which everyone claps to. Even if you don’t like large gatherings, she still manages to make it feel good.

After everything is finished, she likes to spend some alone time with you. It is late in the night, but Christmas is not over yet, she reminds you. Rosalyne seems to be the type to enjoy slow dancing with you, chuckling as you step on her feet sometimes. Watching her sway her hips and twirl you around is simply enchanting. I can see her ending the night by drinking some wine and little snacks, talking until you both fall asleep.

Pantalone loves Christmas because he now had a reasonable excuse to spoil you with gifts without getting reprimanded by you. No, really, he does not hold back. The gifts are piled so high that you can barely see the Christmas tree anymore, the only thing peeking out was the star at the top. Pantalone has a list that he makes in the months coming to December. Every time you show even the slightest bit of interest in something, whether you stare at it for a second or offhandedly mention that it looks cool, it’s getting added to the list. You get items you barely remember seeing yet Pantalone’s laser memory reminds you of the exact moment of when you commented on it while he smiles proudly. You honestly probably have a whole room dedicated to the miscellaneous gifts you get from him.

Also the kind of guy who will always deeply cherish whatever you get him. He especially likes homemade gifts - he finds that idea of you going out of your way to handcraft him something so incredibly sweet. Puts it in his office so he can look at it while he’s working. Of course, Pantalone also likes to take you out to scenic spots for dinner. Shamelessly books the whole restaurant and makes sure you two get the best view, with lots of glazed snow and five-star courses.

Childe adores the holidays, mostly because he genuinely loves spending time with his family. They bring him so much joy, and when the first Christmas with you as his lover rolls around? He’s so eager and excited for you to join the tradition. Yes, he had invited to you spend Christmas with him and his family before, but that was when you two were just friends. Now it’s completely different, Childe insists. And no, there is no possibility of getting out of this. Do you have to work? Too bad, he’s personally going to your boss and politely forcing them to give you your rightfully deserved days off. 

Expect to spend a lot of time with his siblings - Tonia, Anthon, and Teucer. Decorating the tree? Check. Putting up Christmas lights? Check. Ugly Christmas sweaters? Check. No matter how corny or embarrassing it is, Childe is convincing the whole family to join him. (Though it’s not very hard considering how much his siblings look up to him. They tend to comply easily.) His new, favorite tradition though? Kissing you under the mistletoe. Literally recruits his siblings to randomly place them all over the house, and even in the middle of his conversations with you. Ajax is quite devious and greedy when it comes to you.

Bonus - Poly!Harbingers: Friendsgiving with poly! Harbingers except it's for Christmas (and you all live in the same mansion.) Dottore is banned from bringing anything for obvious reasons and Columbina is too because her cooking is inedible most of the time. Childe is the best cook and makes most of the feast. I think Signora is also a good cook so she helps him too. Pantalone buys everything and Sandrone’s robots makes sure the place is decked out in the prettiest decorations. Arlecchino and Columbina cuddle you with the static of some movie in the background - Columbina is trying to feed you sweets before the feast while Arlecchino is trying to stop her. Dottore tells you about all the miserable people he’s seen so far while he laughs (typical of him.) Scaramouche disses the food despite enjoying it, nearly causing a fight. Pierro is making sure things like that don’t happen and oversees everything. Capitano struggles to do any of these delicate tasks so he kind of just stands there with you and makes sure you aren’t doing anything. Though, he puts you on his shoulders so you can place the star on top of the Christmas tree!

Even if your cooking is the most mediocre thing there, all of them will be eating it up like their last meal. The house gets very loud especially when they start passive-aggressively fighting over whose food you liked the best. They take pictures of you doing everything - by the tree, in the snow, opening gifts, catching you off guard while eating, while you’re drunk - they have a shared album of over a thousand pictures by the end of the night. (They also make sure they all receive kisses from the dozens of hidden mistletoes around the house.) It is a very good and chaotic Christmas indeed.

[svnoohe4rts]

THE ULTIMATE GUIDE: TO THE ULTIMATE FRIENDSHIP. ― rule number one.

pairing: park jongseong x fembodied!reader

summary: sunghoon had been strict to follow the rules written on the list the two of you had written years ago, especially rule number three. but when jay suddenly makes an appearance in your life, he realizes that maybe, just maybe, he broke rule number three a long time ago.

word count: 11,8k

warnings: angst, jealousy, just sunghoon being a bad best friend in general, SMUT ! MDNI . proofread but there may be some mistakes, please don’t be afraid to point them out !

masterlist ! next

A GUIDE TO THE ULTIMATE FRIENDSHIP.

Sunghoon saw the list of rules you two had written together every time he opened the top drawer of his nightstand table. The once white, lined paper almost had a yellow tint to it now and your handwriting had smudged to the point where it was practically impossible for Sunghoon to read the already poorly spelled sentences.

Not that he needed to read it, no, he had already memorized what the paper said years ago; long before the words faded and the paper crumbled.

It was the summer break between 4th and 5th grade when you and Sunghoon sat down underneath the big tree in his backyard while drinking some lemonade Sunghoon’s mother had made earlier that summer morning, writing a list of rules. 

A list of rules for the two of you to follow in order to have the ultimate friendship.

RULE NUMBER ONE: NO OTHER BEST FRIENDS ALLOWED.

Sunghoon had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. There was not a single memory you could recall where Sunghoon was not there, being practically glued to your hip ever since the two of you were born. In the video your parents had taken of you where you had just learned how to ride a bicycle Sunghoon could be heard cheering for you in the background, just like he was seen secretly blowing the candle out on your seventh birthday.

He could also be spotted in the framed picture hanging off the wall in your parent's room, the picture your parents had asked some poor tourist to take off you when Sunghoon came with your family on a skiing trip when you were fifteen. Everyone who saw the picture always asked who the handsome boy was and if it was your brother, which was almost true - Sunghoon was almost like a brother to you at this point. 

A brother.

And with Sunghoon being your best friend and practically a part of your family, why would you ever need another best friend? 

Both of your signatures could be found at the bottom of the page, Sunghoon’s first attempt to write his signature was scribbled over as he misspelled his own name and needed you to help him spell it. You had kissed the paper as a final way to seal the contract before forcing Sunghoon to do the same, and Sunghoon remembers shuddering in disgust as he pressed his lips onto the same spot as you - indirectly kissing his best friend, something he never wanted to experience, ever.

After that, you handed Sunghoon the list, telling him that he could keep it; knowing he would forget the rules otherwise knowing how forgetful he could sometimes be. So he did, storing it in the top drawer of his bedside table; where it remained, even ten years later.

 ‘’Wanna stay for dinner? I think my mom mentioned something about trying some new recipe she found,’’

‘’Can’t. Jay asked me to come over, we still have that English project to finish, remember?’’

A frown formed on Sunghoon’s face, watching as you kept your eyes glued to the screen of your phone. With a groan emerging from the back of his throat, he put his hand over your phone screen; covering whatever it was on your phone that possibly could’ve had you so invested, so invested that you hadn’t been paying any attention to Sunghoon for the last twenty minutes.

‘’But you’re always hanging out with Jay,’’

Sunghoon hated Jay. 

Maybe hate wasn’t the right word to describe the feelings he felt towards Jay, maybe it was a little too harsh; dislike was probably a more fitting and less brutal word to describe what he felt towards the boy who had stolen his best friend away from him.

The tall, mysterious and seemingly charismatic boy had suddenly made an appearance in your life three months back. Sunghoon remembers hearing the name Jay trail off your lips for the first time when you were comfortably laying in his bed, watching as he tried clearing a level he had been stuck on for the last couple of weeks. He also remembers just shrugging it off as you told him about how you got partnered up with the new student for your English class as he focused on the monster taking up the screen of his TV instead, both his brows furrowed and the tip of his tongue poking his cheek in concentration.

The second time the name Jay left your lips, he was sitting in the school's cafeteria. He remembers scrolling through his phone while you talked about how easy your English assignment was, and that you had Jay to thank for making it so easy for you. He also remembers you rolling your eyes when he asked who Jay was, before you lightly hit him in the arm for not listening to you.

By the nth time Jay’s name had spilled past your lips, Sunghoon wondered if you had broken the first rule of your contract.

Especially when you suddenly could no longer attend your daily hangouts after school, also known as you going to his house to do nothing for a couple of hours before going home, only to repeat the same thing the next day. You had accompanied him home from school for as long as Sunghoon could remember, so why would it change now, ten years later?

Well, Sunghoon blamed Jay for changing the routine the two of you had kept going for years.

Suddenly, you were too busy accompanying Jay to his house after school instead. To work on your assignment, you had claimed, and that maybe you could come over afterward; if it wasn’t too dark out, that being said - even though Sunghoon had offered you to spend the night multiple times.

You never did come over after you went to Jay’s house nor did you ever spend the night. Sunghoon wondered if it was because you’d rather hang out with Jay, who had managed to snatch you away from him in every way possible, even when he wasn’t even present.

Like right now, for example.

Glaring at the boy sitting in front of you, you rolled your eyes before pushing his big hand away from the screen of your phone. ‘’We study together, Sunghoon. I kind of have to hang out with him.’’ You let out before your eyes wandered back to your phone, Sunghoon watching with the same frown plastered on his face as you typed something out using both your thumbs.

Watching as you typed, he tried changing the subject, not wanting to talk about the boy anymore. ‘’Who are you texting?’’ He tried peeking over your phone, to no avail; he couldn’t even see half of the screen from where he was sitting. Shifting around in his bed, you continued typing with a small smile on your lips, ‘’Jay, he’s asking if he should pick me up.’’ 

Feeling a lump form in his throat, which he didn’t know was in distress or annoyance, Sunghoon came to the realization he’d never be able to escape the topic of Park Jay; no matter how hard he tried.

‘’Tell him no, I’ll drive you.’’ 

His voice finally caused you to look up at him, properly this time, the small smile remaining on your lips. Sunghoon knew the smile wasn’t for him, yet it somewhat eased the uneasiness he was feeling from the thought of watching you get in someone else's car, more specifically Jay’s car, when he could easily drive you. ‘’Really?’’ You let out, both your brows raised and the screen of your phone turning off; giving Sunghoon the slightest hope that you wouldn’t turn it back on.

Nodding in response, he snatched the phone out of your hands, not giving you the chance to turn it back on; putting it behind his back. ‘’Only if you promise to pay attention to me for the remaining time.’’ He let out, causing a small chuckle to trail off your lips as you sat up straight against the headboard of his bed.

With your hands finding their way to his face, your soft hands squeezing his cheeks together; Sunghoon felt the lump in his throat completely disappear. ‘’I promise to pay attention to my clingy best friend.’’ You grinned, Sunghoon staring at you in distaste before turning his face away from you; causing your soft hands to slip away from his face. Pretending to wipe your touch away from his cheeks, he shook his head while listening to the giggles trailing off your lips. 

‘’First of all, I’m not clingy,’’ He spoke, ‘’Second of all, you’re not my grandma so you have no business squeezing my cheeks like that.’’

Grinning at him, you once again grabbed onto his cheeks, ‘’I might not be your grandma, but I’m your best friend.’’ 

Fighting back a smile, he once again tried getting away from your grip; both of you laughing and Sunghoon suddenly felt like he was twelve again - when you were his only best friend and didn’t have to worry about you drifting away from him.

You remember when you laid eyes on the boy named Jay for the first time.

With his dark hair slicked back and pieces of hair falling onto his forehead, he had walked into the classroom with his hands shoved down the front pockets of his pants. You were sure he caught not only your attention, but everyone else’s as well; with his hawk-like eyes and sharp features, it was almost impossible not to find him alluring after all. 

And with your professor introducing the stranger as Jay who had just moved schools, he had gazed over the class and nodded his head before taking a seat - the class continuing on as if nothing had happened.

Not for you though. 

You remember watching him for the next couple of days after that, out of pure curiosity. You remember watching as he mindlessly browsed his laptop as your professor spoke with no open document in sight to take notes, you also remember how he got told off multiple times for having his AirPods in during class; only for him to show up the next day with the AirPods back in his ears. You admired him for that.

It took a week, a week of you as well as everyone else watching him from afar, for the seemingly quiet boy to be announced as your partner for the upcoming assignment.  

You remember hearing his voice for the first time when he stood in front of you after class, and how you thought his voice suited him perfectly; the low and deep tone of his voice matching the enigmatic aura that seemed to surround him wherever he went. You also remember feeling baffled the first time you sat down to study, when he seemed to know everything surrounding the subject even though you knew he hadn’t been listening nor had he been taking notes of anything the professor had spoken of. 

The once mysterious boy quickly became not so mysterious and you suddenly found yourself being around him more frequently. 

You had learned a lot about the boy during the three months you had spent getting closer to him. Like the fact that he had a birthmark shaped somewhat like a heart on the side of his neck for example, a birthmark that you had observed the one time he leaned over you to look at the screen of your computer, or that he always smelled musky, a tone of bergamot following him everywhere he went - the smell engulfing you each time he pulled you into a hug to greet you.

You often found yourself wondering if you were the only one who knew those small things about him, and if the rest of the world still saw him as the mysterious boy you yourself once saw him as.

‘’I was beginning to think you flaked on me.’’

Once again, the woody fragrance you had now grown accustomed to engulfed you as the dark-haired boy towered above you, a playful smirk accompanying his words as you stood outside his front door. 

The sky had gotten significantly darker compared to when you got into Sunghoons car, the night sky slowly replacing the orange tone that had decorated the sky just a few minutes prior. A smile formed on your lips as you shook your head, your eyes meeting his; taking a moment to observe his hooded eyes.

You had learned a lot about the boy during the few months you had known him, sure - yet you had the lingering feeling that there was still something about him you had yet to learn.

The feeling washed over you every time you got a glimpse of his eyes, each time leaving you to wonder just what it was that you had yet to learn. You knew he was an only child, you knew his father worked away from home which meant he had the apartment to himself most of the time, you knew his favorite color was purple thanks to the one time he came with you shopping - when he had pointed out one shirt in particular, a purple one, telling you to get it because he thought you’d look good in his favorite color.

You felt like you knew everything there was to know at this point, yet the strange and almost obscure feeling lingered.

‘’You really think I’d do that?’’ You chuckled as he stepped aside, allowing you to step into the dimly lit and quiet apartment. He liked it that way, you had figured out, considering the fact that it was always eerily quiet every time you came over; no radio mindlessly playing in the background, no random show playing on the TV - just simple quietness. 

A chuckle emerged from the back of his throat as he watched you take your shoes off, shaking his head. ‘’I’d hope not, I mean, I’d like to consider us friends at this point.’’

The words caused you to look up at him, your lips slightly parted before a small grin spread across your lips. ‘’Should I feel honored? You make it sound like I should,’’ You grinned, successfully kicking your shoe off. Jay rolled his eyes in response, leaning his upper body against the wall behind him. ‘’No, but I think friends reply to each other's messages, no?’’ 

Lightly hitting his bicep, something Jay had figured out you did when you felt comfortable around someone, you shook your head. ‘’I’m sorry, I was at Sunghoons house and I forgot to reply,’’ 

The sudden mention of Sunghoon caused Jay to raise one of his eyebrows. ‘’Sunghoon? Let me think,’’ He hummed, squinting his eyes as if he was thinking, ‘’The boy you’re always hanging out with, right? The one you grew up with?’’ This time, it was your turn to roll your eyes after staring at him in disbelief for a moment. ‘’Yes, Sunghoon, the boy I’ve told you about like, what, a thousand times?’’ You let out, squinting your eyes back at him.

Jay had yet to meet Sunghoon, despite attending the same school as the two of you. There had been plenty of instances where they could’ve met, like every time you bumped into Jay in the hallways while casually talking to Sunghoon - your introverted friend, however, always just gave you a quick nod whenever he saw your face lit up upon seeing the other boy; leaving before you even had the opportunity to introduce the two. 

You just shrugged it off as Sunghoon being his introverted self, and meeting new people just wasn’t his forte. You, however, had yet to learn about the boy's hatred towards the other boy and the fact that he had no desire whatsoever to meet the boy who had stolen his best friend away.

A smirk formed on Jay’s lips, gently punching you in the shoulder. ‘’I’m just playing, I’m assuming he drove you here?’’ He asked, not taking his eyes off of you as he started walking down the hallway leading to his room. You nodded in response, fixing the bag hanging off your shoulder as you followed him; earning a nod back from the taller boy. 

‘’Hopefully I’ll get to meet this infamous Sunghoon one day.’’

‘’Maybe one day.’’

‘’How come you’re taking English classes if you already know all of this stuff?’’

Your question caused a low chuckle to emerge from the back of Jay's throat, not taking his eyes off the book placed in front of him. ‘’I think this is just common knowledge, Y/N,’’ He responded, causing you to frown. ‘’That’s just an indirect way of calling me stupid.’’ You mumbled, tearing your eyes off the boy seated in front of you before returning your gaze to the book placed in your lap. 

Jay looked up at you, holding back a chuckle at the sight of you pouting; a small smile forming on his lips as he leaned over the bed, grabbing onto your chin before tilting your head up. Your eyes immediately met his, your eyes wide from his sudden action and the foreign feeling of his rough fingers gently gripping your chin; your eyes traveling down to the smile he wore on his plump lips.

And you almost missed the way his eyes traveled down to your lips, too.

 ‘’I don’t think you’re stupid.’’

Even though you felt like there was something you didn’t know about the boy, there was one thing you had learned - he wasn’t too big on psychical contact. It took weeks for him to greet you with a hug, only raising his eyebrows at you every time you tried to wrap your arms around him; leaving you feeling both embarrassed and dumb for thinking he’d want to hug you in the first place. 

Until one day, he had taken you by surprise when you were waiting for him by his locker; his big hands suddenly grabbing onto your shoulders from behind before spinning you around, laughing at your shocked expression before hugging you for the first time. 

After that, despite you stumbling over your words from utter shock from him hugging you without you initiating it, it became a habit to hug each other whenever you greeted one another.

You noticed he grew more comfortable around you as his small, almost unnoticeable touches happened more frequently. You remember him placing one of his hands on your thigh while you were reading something out loud and he wanted to read whatever you were reading too, or the one time he wrapped an arm around your shoulders while walking to the school's library; all while laughing at something you had said.

But this, him touching your face, had never happened before.

Noticing the way your lips separated like you were about to say something, but not a single word leaving your lips; he chuckled at the clearly flustered state you were in before letting go of your chin, going back to leaning against the wall by his bed. ”Plus I think it’d look good on my resume, don’t you think?” You just stared at him for a moment, watching as he went back to reading like he hadn’t just grabbed your chin; clearing your throat in a desperate attempt to hide your now flustered state.

‘’You know,’’ You let out after a while, trying to change the topic, ‘’I keep getting the feeling that there’s something I have yet to know about you.’’

Jay just cocked an eyebrow, he could feel you looking at him; keeping his eyes glued to the page he was reading. ‘’Yeah? And what would that be?’’ He let out, looking up at you before slightly tilting his head. You shrugged, ‘’I don’t know, I’m still trying to figure it out.’’ He just stared at you for a moment upon hearing your words, his eyes meeting yours as silence engulfed both of you.

‘’You want to know what I think?’’

You nodded your head, feeling both confused and nervous from the sudden silence - had you accidentally managed to offend him?

He took a moment to just look at you, his eyes scanning your face; causing you to slightly furrow your eyebrows as his eyes met yours once more. ‘’I think there’s a lot you don’t know about me.’’

The seriousness lingering behind his words caused your facial expression to soften and a chuckle to leave the back of your throat, shaking your head as you tore your eyes off the boy sitting in front of you; Jay, however, kept his eyes on you - watching as you went back to reading whatever page you were on, a small smile plastered on your lips. 

You wondered if he was just trying to tease you, make fun of you even; realizing your sudden confession probably sounded like a joke to him, something you blurted out to avoid having him tease you for your flushed state.

‘’Yeah? Like what?’’

‘’Do you want me to show you?’’

His sudden exclamation caused your eyes to immediately dart back up, your eyes immediately being met by his own dark ones. Expecting to be greeted by his usual playful smile, you suddenly grew nervous once more as you realized the playful grin you had expected to see was nowhere to be seen.

No, with his eyes burning into your skin and his head slightly tilted, you realized he wasn’t teasing you. 

‘’What?’’ You let out, trying your best to decipher the stern look on his face. It wasn’t unusual for Jay to walk around with a stern look on his face, his hawk-like eyes and sharp features making it look like he was constantly judging everyone around him. But this, the look he was giving you right now? No, it was nothing like the usual stern look he wore on his face.

‘’I said, do you want me to show you?’’

With his eyes still burning into your own, you found yourself unable to look away. His low eyes made it almost impossible for you to tear your gaze off him, desperate to understand what the new look he was giving you meant; even if it meant you had to stare right back at him, looking and feeling dumbfounded.

‘’Show me what?’’ The quietness of his apartment made you wonder if he could hear your heart practically beating out of your chest, suddenly feeling almost naked as he stared at you; his dark eyes piercing into your soul, causing a wave of uncertainty to wash over you. Your voice almost came out in a broken whisper, and you wondered if he even heard you.

The deafening silence almost made you repeat your question, keyword almost; you weren’t sure if you wanted him to respond, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know what his response would be.

Jay, however, did hear your question - but he didn’t reply, no, instead he tore his eyes off you to grab the novel he was reading; the noise of him slamming the book shut ricocheting off the walls, almost causing you to jump. 

You didn’t even have time to react to the sudden noise before you suddenly felt Jay place both hands on either side of your legs, and before you knew it - he was towering right above you; his arms caging you in.

At that moment, that’s exactly what you felt like; like you were being caged. Like you were being held hostage, with one of his arms now placed against the headboard of his bed where you were comfortably resting your head and the other one placed by your shoulder, you froze.

His face was now only a few inches away from your own, almost feeling his breath fan across your face; the closeness almost causing you to hold your breath as you were unable to do anything but look at him with wide eyes.

The shock of him being so close to you caused your heart to race, his musky scent surrounding you in a way it had never surrounded you before; suddenly being able to smell his shampoo and the mint gum he had been chewing on a few minutes prior. You had been close to him many times before, you had been closer to him than this; like when he hugged you for example, your cheek pressing against his chest as his arms wraps around your figure.

But this? This was completely different from the friendly hugs he usually gave you. This was so much more intimate than all the hugs he had given you combined, his eyes still piercing into your own as you found yourself unable to look away once more - your lips parted and eyes wide as you stared right back at him.

His eyes darted between your eyes and lips, his dark gaze sending shivers down your spine. You desperately tried to say something, to move, anything: but almost like your limbs were frozen in place, you simply couldn’t; feeling like your whole brain had shut down and your vocal cords had never existed in the first place, you were left to do nothing but stare at him in pure shock. 

At that moment, you wished that Jay would’ve left some random show to play on the TV, you wished that he’d at least put on some music while you were studying - anything, anything that could distract you from the way his lips were hovering above your own.

Jay’s eyes met your own once more before a low chuckle emerged from the back of his throat, the sudden sound breaking the silence almost causing you to jump once again. You suddenly felt him bop your nose using the hand he had previously placed right by your head, causing you to blink as a small smile formed on his lips, and before you knew it; he was no longer towering right above you.

‘’I’m just playing with you,’’ He laughed as climbed off of you, his musky scent no longer engulfing you and the mint on his breath no longer invading your senses, ‘’God, you should’ve seen the look on your face! What, do you think I’m some sort of serial killer?’’

Letting go of a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, you forced an awkward chuckle to leave your throat; the uneasiness and confusion lingering in your shaky chuckle being evident. You were quick to tear your gaze off him, almost feeling the need to gasp for air; your cheeks warm and your chest heaving under the shirt you were wearing. You could feel your heart beating and you were almost certain Jay could hear it from across the bed as well, the smile on his lips remaining as he shook his head at your panic, grabbing the book he had disregarded minutes prior.

Like nothing had ever happened, he went back to reading the novel your teacher had assigned you to read; leaving you to uncomfortably shift around in his bed, trying your best to find a comfortable position - trying your best to calm both your racing heart and thoughts.

The thought of Jay almost kissing you didn’t leave your mind for the entire night after that, not even when you found yourself in your own bed hours later - staring at the ceiling as you recalled the feeling of his breath on your face and his scent engulfing you, leaving you to wonder if you had wanted him to kiss you.

The thought remained, even when you woke up the following morning.

Like a stone, it sat in your stomach from the second your eyes fluttered open; only to be greeted by the morning sun peaking through the blinds. On your way to school, the thought still lingered; staring out the window of the passenger seat of Sunghoons car as he mindlessly talked about something, something you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to no matter how hard you tried.

Even during math, the thought of Jay clouded your mind as you desperately tried to focus on the numbers filling your page. But instead, you only stared at the empty paper placed in front of you, the pen you were holding in your hand ghosting over the paper; unable to think about anything but Jay’s body pressing against your own and the way his lips had ghosted over your own.

You, however, despite Jay potentially trying to kiss you clouding your mind; couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were making it all up. Perhaps Jay hadn’t actually tried to kiss you, maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you; maybe he had actually just tried to tease you, he did enjoy seeing you all flustered after all - something you had learned the hard way.

Jay had made you flustered multiple times during your short friendship, more times than you could count. Like when he’d compliment you on the smallest things, for example, the jewelry you chose to wear, or when he’d compliment you on your choice of perfume for that particular day; telling you that you smelled good while pulling you in for a hug to greet you. The smirk he’d wear on his lips every time he’d see your cheeks turn a peachy color made it clear that he enjoyed seeing you like that, making you wonder if he did it purely to make you flustered.

And with the same smirk on his lips, this time while being dangerously close to your face, you were left to wonder if he was in fact just trying to make you flustered.

‘’Are you okay?’’

Sunghoon’s sudden voice caused you to snap out of your thoughts, your eyes landing on the boy walking beside you. With his brows slightly furrowed together, he stared at you; waiting for you to reply. Clearing your throat, you nodded. ‘’Sorry, what were you saying?’’ You mumbled, your gaze returning to the ground underneath you.

A day later, and Jay was still preoccupying your mind; unbeknownst to Sunghoon, who was too busy celebrating the fact that you finally agreed to hang out with him after school. So busy that he almost failed to notice the way you hadn’t been listening to a single word that had left his mouth since that very same morning when he picked you up outside your house, so busy that he almost didn’t notice the way you had only hummed in response to whatever he had said.

Until he eventually did realize, hours later - when you hadn’t uttered a single word for the past fifteen minutes.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he looked at you; his steps coming to a halt, grabbing onto your wrist to prevent you from taking as much as a single step. The feeling of his hand wrapping around your wrist caused you to look up at him once more, both your eyebrows raised as your eyes met his now concerned ones. ‘’What’s up?’’

You could clearly hear the concern lingering behind his words and for a moment you felt guilty, guilty for making him worry. Letting out a chuckle, you shook your head, ‘’It’s nothing, I just have a lot on my mind right now, college, you know?’’

If things had been different and if Sunghoon hadn’t been your best friend for the past twenty years, he would’ve believed you. But he had known you his entire life and he most definitely did not believe you, he could easily tell there was something more than just college on your mind by just looking at you - leaving him to wonder why you felt the need to hide something from him, a frown forming on his face.

‘’You sure?’’ He asked, scanning your face; trying to find out what it was that was preoccupying your mind, what it was that had you so deep into your own thoughts - to no avail as you only flashed him a bigger smile, causing Sunghoon to poke the inside of his cheek using his tongue. 

‘’Cut the bullshit.’’

The smile that you had just worn on your lips slowly faded as your best friend called you out, a frown taking over your features as a small sigh escaped your lips; feeling Sunghoon let go of your wrist, letting his hand fall back down the side of his body. ‘’It’s really nothing,’’ You mumbled, avoiding his gaze; missing the way he rolled his eyes upon hearing your words.

‘’If you say so.’’ 

Your gaze once again landed on the boy as he continued walking, your eyes landing on the back of his head; another sigh escaping your lips as you debated on whether or not to tell your best friend what was weighing you down.

You trusted Sunghoon. You trusted Sunghoon more than you trusted anyone else. he was your best friend, after all, a brother even. But despite your close relationship with one another, love and everything surrounding the topic was just something you didn’t talk about; no matter what.

Maybe it was because of that one time you told him about the crush you had on one of the boys in your class during middle school and he laughed at you, leaving you feeling both embarrassed and angry, angry that you told him in the first place if he was just going to make fun of you. Or maybe it was because of that one time you had to comfort him after he got rejected, something he refused to speak about ever again; you weren’t sure, but one thing was for sure.

You simply did not talk about those things. Or you didn’t, until what had been on your mind eventually slipped past your lips.

‘’I think Jay tried to kiss me last night.’’

As soon as the words left your lips, Sunghoon regretted ever asking.

A sudden burning sensation spread across his chest, feeling like his heart was caving in; his breath almost hitching in his throat upon hearing your words. Feeling like someone had grabbed onto his heart and ripped it out of his chest, crushing it before stomping on it; he wished he had never asked you in the first place.

He wished he wouldn’t have asked what was on your mind, he wished he wouldn’t have known you so well to the point where he could easily tell that something was wrong - anything, anything to avoid the ache he was suddenly feeling in his chest, an ache he had never experienced before.

Almost feeling the need to grab onto the fabric covering his chest, he froze. Like he was unable to move, he just stared at his car that stood parked in the school's parking lot a few feet away.

‘’Did you kiss him?’’

The words trailed off Sunghoon’s lips before he could even comprehend what he was saying, the words leaving his lips before he could even consider what to say; not sure if he actually wanted an answer to his question. 

You just stared at him, confusion washing over you upon seeing his reaction. With his back still facing you, you furrowed your brows; making you wonder if perhaps you shouldn’t have said anything, considering the way his steps came to an abrupt stop and his shoulder tensed. ‘’No,’’ You let out, uncertainty lingering in your voice as you stared at him.

‘’Did you want to kiss him?’’

Squeezing his eyes shut, Sunghoon had to bite his own tongue in order to not say anything else. He didn’t even want to know if you wanted to kiss Jay, no, he didn’t want you to want to kiss Jay; the question slipping past his lips quicker than he was able to think.

Sunghoon wasn’t a religious man, he had never been and he probably never would be either. But at that moment, Sunghoon prayed for the first time in his life; with his eyes squeezed shut, he prayed that you’d say no. 

He prayed that you’d laugh, he prayed that you would tell him how you didn’t want to kiss Jay - anything, he prayed for you to say anything other than a yes. 

He, however, didn’t know if the silence that followed his question was any better than if you would’ve said yes. 

Turning around to face you, he felt the heavy feeling in his chest spread even further as he spotted the look on your face. With your lips pressed into a thin line, you just stared at him; causing Sunghoon’s heart to sink, your silence hurting more than if you were to say yes.

‘’Did you?’’ You bit down on your lower lip as he repeated his question, his brown eyes now staring into your own. You tried to figure out what the look on his face meant, the look that he usually wore on his face whenever he felt disappointed. But he wasn’t disappointed, not right now, he couldn’t be, right? What was there to possibly be disappointed about?

‘’No, I mean, I don’t know,’’ You mumbled, shrugging your shoulders as you spoke. Fighting the urge to avoid his piercing gaze, you nibbled on your bottom lip; the look on his face making you wonder whether he was disappointed or just felt awkward.

The sudden dry chuckle that left his lips, however, told you everything you needed to know. ‘’You don’t know?’’ Almost speaking through gritted teeth, the tone of his voice taking you by surprise; causing you to frown.

‘’Yeah, I don’t know,’’ You let out, your eyebrows furrowed together as he shook his head; another dry chuckle, a chuckle in disbelief, ripping through his chest.

‘’You have to know if you wanted him to kiss you or not Y/N,’’ He argued, not taking his eyes off of you, watching as your eyes widen in surprise. ‘’What? I don’t know Sunghoon, I don’t know if I wanted him to kiss me or not!’’ You defended yourself, confusion washing over you as the boy in front of you only seemed to grow even more agitated the more you spoke.

Letting out a sigh in annoyance, Sunghoon ran one of his hands through his hair in an attempt to somewhat calm himself down, ‘’For fucks sake,’’

‘’Why are you getting mad?’’

Your question caused Sunghoon to freeze, letting his arm fall down the side of his body again, his lips parting like he was about to say something; but with not a single word leaving his lips, the boy remained silent.

You were right, why was he getting mad?

Any other best friend would be happy, happy that their best friend met someone - so why was Sunghoon feeling like someone stabbed him in the heart, and not happy? Why did the thought of his best friend almost kissing another guy, someone who wasn’t him, cause a burning feeling to spread across his chest?

Your big eyes, filled with both surprise and disappointment caused Sunghoons gaze to soften. Realizing he had lashed out at you with no real explanation, confusing both you and himself, he placed his tongue between his teeth. ‘’We’ll hang out some other day, alright?’’ He managed to mumble after a moment of silence, his voice low and you were sure you could hear what sounded like both anger and sadness lingering behind his words.

‘’Sunghoon, wait,’’

The boy had already turned around before you could even utter as much as a word, feeling the need to reach out and grab onto him to stop him from walking away from you; your hand leaving your side, just to retract it just as quickly - realizing it was no use.

He was already walking away, leaving you to stand alone in the school's parking lot. 

Feeling both confused and as if someone had just punched him in the face, Sunghoon came to the realization that you had in fact broken the first rule. And maybe, just maybe, he had broken one of the rules himself.

Radio silence.

Sunghoon didn’t pick you up the following day, even though he had picked you up every single day ever since he got his license and even though you stood outside your house at 8 AM sharp - his car never turned the corner, like he always did. 

Nor did he text you that night, after leaving you in the parking lot all on your own; leaving you to take the bus as your only ride home left you stranded.

Nothing but utter, complete radio silence.

Perhaps it was your own fault, you thought, you had been zoned out the entire day and completely uninterested in anything he had said after all. But the confusion still lingered, the confusion as to why he lashed out at you; as to what could've gotten him so upset to the point where he grew so aggravated, to the point where he felt the need to leave you with no explanation, no nothing.

Instead, you were left confused, with tears staining your cheeks all the way until the early hours of the morning, but most of all: hurt. 

You were left hurt.

The boy now standing in front of you, however, seemed equally as confused with your unannounced presence.

‘’Y/N? What are you doing here?’’ Jay let out in surprise as he opened his front door, only to reveal you standing there; the cold winds sending goosebumps down your arms as you shoved your hands further down your pockets in an attempt to warm yourself up. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his and Jay wondered if your cheeks were red from the cold autumn weather that had slowly been approaching, or if you had been crying. 

‘’Can I come in, or is it a bad time?’’

Maybe it wasn’t the most ideal time for you to show up at Jay’s door, completely unannounced, judging by the way his hair was dripping wet and the towel he was holding in one of his hands. But with Sunghoon completely ignoring you and your heart still slightly aching from your best friend being disappointed, angry - whatever it was he was with you, it was obvious to you that he wouldn’t hang out with you today.

Despite it being the one day of the week, the one day when you had promised him to hang out with him, clearing your schedule to go over to his house; sometimes even sleeping over, if he managed to convince you, that being said.

Not today, you guessed.

Jay looked at you for a moment, before a warm smile spread on his lips. ‘’You’re always welcome here, silly.’’

The warmth of Jay’s apartment welcomed you with open arms, shielding you from the cold winds raging outside; mentally scolding yourself for not wearing something warmer. A low sigh escaped your lips as you sat down at the edge of Jay’s bed, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to warm yourself up. ‘’I thought today was no study day?’’ Jay spoke as he entered the room, his eyes questioning you as he rubbed the towel against his scalp; preventing droplets of water to drop from the ends of his hair.

You looked up at him, your eyes scanning his figure. With nothing but a flimsy tank top covering his chest, the lack of sleeves leaving his biceps out for you to see - you almost felt the need to look away. Almost like you weren’t supposed to be looking at him, your breath hitched in your throat.

Quickly gazing back down at your hands, still rubbing them together to create some warmth, you shook your head in response. ‘’Change in plans,’’ You lightly chuckled, the sound of Jay draping the towel over the door leading into his room causing you to gaze back up at him, reluctant to do so. He looked over at you, his lips parting as if he was about to say something; his eyes meeting yours.

The room fell silent and you wondered if perhaps he could sense how tense you were. Perhaps he could hear your heart thumping against your chest, just from him simply looking at you, all the way across the room; or maybe it was the look in your eyes that gave it away, you weren’t sure. 

But one thing was for sure, Jay most definitely noticed something - slightly tilting his head at you.

‘’How come?’’

Now it was your turn to shrug, forcing yourself to tear your eyes off of him; his eyes still burning into your skin as you looked away. ‘’Plans changed, I guess,’’ You mumbled, the room falling silent once more.

‘’Why have you been crying?’’

Jay wasn’t sure if you had actually been crying, or if it was the cold causing a red color to flush your cheeks. Trusting his gut feeling, the words softly trailed off his lips; and judging by the way you immediately looked up at him with wide eyes and your shoulders tensing up upon hearing his words - he realized he was right and that it was, in fact, the first option.

Parting your lips like you were about to say something, you felt like sinking through the ground. You had hoped that the cold would’ve helped you cover up your tearstained cheeks and puffy eyes, and maybe anyone else wouldn’t have noticed; but Jay did notice, and you wished he hadn’t - because then you wouldn’t have to awkwardly laugh it off.

You forced a chuckle to leave the back of your throat, bringing one of your hands to your face as you shook your head. ‘’Crying? It’s just cold out,’’ Pressing the back of your hand against your cheek in an attempt to show him that you were in fact just cold, even though that wasn’t the case; hoping he’d just shrug it off.

He didn’t. 

No, instead he just looked at you with his head still tilted, the look on his face making it clear to you that he did not believe your little white lie; not even a little bit. The room fell silent and you wondered if it was disappointment lingering in his dark eyes, disappointment over the fact that you had lied to him.

‘’You don’t have to tell me, you know,’’ He uttered, breaking the silence. His voice was warm as he spoke, nothing like the dagger-like tone that had lingered behind Sunghoon’s words when he had spoken to you, no; Jay’s soothing and sincere voice sounded nothing like the sharp words that had trailed off your best friend's lips. ‘’I just want you to know that I’m here to listen, always.’’

You hadn’t anticipated the lump that was now beginning to form in your throat, nor had you expected Jay to comfort you. You weren’t sure if Jay actually knew how comforting his words were, or if he was even being sincere; but the look in his eyes told you he was and you wondered if he also noticed the tears that had formed in your eyes.

He must’ve, because before you could even blink, you felt him place his weight next to you on the edge of his bed. Your eyes met his once more as he placed one of his hands on top of your thigh, his sudden touch taking you by surprise; but the look in his eyes, however, made you feel even more surprised.

His normally cat-like eyes no longer looked as mysterious to you, not with concern lingering in his dark brown orbs. With his eyes filled with both concern and what almost looked like admiration, you couldn’t help but let the broken sob that had been trying to claw its way out of your throat finally escape.

‘’It’s Sunghoon.’’

Jay was quick to wrap his arm around you before the broken sob could even leave your throat, gently pressing you against his chest before letting his head rest on top of yours. You let the tears that had been threatening to leave your eyes fall, feeling slightly embarrassed for crying in his arms; Jay humming as the name ‘Sunghoon’ trailed off your lips.

Once again, his musky scent engulfed you as his fingers combed through your hair. This time, however, the musky scent you had gotten used to comforted you in a way you had never expected it to - wrapping your arms around his torso in an attempt to get even closer to the boy holding you.

Jay hadn’t heard a whole lot about your so-called best friend, Sunghoon. He knew you grew up with each other and that he had seen him a handful of times in the hallways, but other than that; Park Sunghoon was practically a mystery to him.

But the second his name trailed off your lips, accompanied by your glossy eyes - Jay realized that the name Sunghoon was going to leave a sour taste in his mouth for a very, very long time.

‘’It’s okay,’’ Jay hummed into your hair, his heart clenching as he felt you grab onto him even harder, making him wonder for a split second if you were scared he was going to leave. Maybe you were, perhaps you were afraid he’d leave you on your own; you weren’t sure either, but there was one thing Jay was sure about.

He wasn’t going to let you go.

‘’I’m sorry,’’ You mumbled into his shirt, causing a low chuckle to leave Jay’s lips. You were about to look up at him, his sudden chuckle making you frown into the fabric of his tank top; making you feel stupid. But before you even had the chance to move your head, you felt Jay’s hand slowly slip away from your waist and grab onto the side of your face - making you look up at him.

Your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes met his, a small smile on his lips as he looked at you. His face was only a few inches away from yours, closer than he had ever been before - his thumb gently stroking your cheek making it even harder for you to breathe. ‘’Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,’’ He let out, ‘’Especially when you have nothing to be sorry about.’’

Maybe if Jay hadn’t planted the idea in your mind, you wouldn’t have kissed him. Maybe if he hadn’t gotten so close, maybe if his smell hadn’t invaded all your senses, and maybe if his rough fingers hadn’t dragged across your cheek; you wouldn’t have placed your hand in the nape of his neck and brought your face towards his own.

But you did, and you almost felt the need to let out a gasp as his plump lips came into contact with your own lips, the tears that had made their way down your face coating your lips.

Jay, however, also felt the need to almost gasp for air as your salty lips came into contact with his own dry ones. He almost pulled away, he almost let you slip away from his grip; and also he knows he probably should. He knows he shouldn’t let you kiss him, he knows he shouldn’t pull you closer and he knows he most definitely shouldn’t let his fingers run through your hair.

But how could he possibly not, when he had wanted nothing else but this for the past three months?

His lips moved against your own with such urgency, such desperation; his fingertips tugging at the roots of your hair as you placed your other hand on the side of his face, bringing him even closer to you. Feeling his tongue suddenly swipe across your bottom lip, you had to fight back from letting a small whine leave your throat; slightly parting your lips, letting his wet muscle come into contact with your own.

The tears that had previously left your eyes were now nowhere to be seen, Jay using his thumb to wipe them away as he helped you straddle him; his lips not leaving yours as you placed yourself on top of his lap. Feeling one of his hands leave your face and drag down your side before eventually resting at your waist, you almost shivered under his touch.

With your fingertips grazing over the water droplets that had dripped onto the skin of his neck thanks to him not properly drying his hair, Jay let out a low groan against your lips; the sudden sensation of your soft fingers tickling his skin causing his grip around your waist to tighten. The feeling of his fingernails digging into your skin caused a gasp to leave your lips, causing you to pull away from the kiss for a split second.

Jay just looked at you for a moment, admiring you; with you on his lap and your eyelashes stuck together from the tears that had spilled past the corners of your eyes, he had to bite down on his lower lip in order to somewhat ground himself - both of your chests heaving up and down from the intense kiss.

‘’Whatever he did,’’ Jay mumbled after a moment of silence, watching his fingers graze over the skin of your cheek as he spoke, ‘’It’s not worth crying over.’’

His soft words almost caused tears to form in your eyes once more, your lips meeting his before they even had a chance to form and drop onto your cheeks, again. This time, Jay was quick to slip his hand under your shirt, his warm hand gently stroking your waist as his rough lips continued to attack yours. The feeling of his hand coming into contact with your skin caused you to unconsciously move around in his lap, a hiss suddenly leaving Jay’s lips as he pulled away.

You were about to open your eyes, a pang of fear shooting through your body as he pulled away; fear that maybe he didn’t want to kiss you. Maybe he realized that letting you kiss him in the first place was a mistake, that he didn’t actually want to - until you suddenly felt his wet hair come into contact with the skin of your neck, that being said.

Followed by a water droplet dropping knot your skin, you felt him press a soft kiss right underneath your ear; causing you to tilt your head to the side, your eyes fluttering shut once more as your lips parted at the sensation. Leaving a trail of kisses down the side of your neck, his rough lips accompanied by his tongue occasionally swiping across your skin; a low whimper emerged from the back of your throat.

‘’Jay,’’ You whimpered, your head still tilted to the side, giving the man easy access to your neck. Nibbling on your skin, he hummed; the vibrations as well as his hand still gently stroking the side of your body causing another whine to spill past your lips. ‘’Can you take my mind off it, please?’’

Your soft whisper caused Jay to detach his lips from your neck, his eyes meeting yours once more. He slightly tilted his head, using his thumb to swipe across your bottom lip as you stared at him; your eyes wide and Jay could practically see the desperation inside of them. ‘’How would I do that?’’ He let out, his voice low as his gaze landed on his thumb, watching as your bottom lip followed his movements. 

You stared at him for a moment, the feeling of his rough fingers pressed against your bottom lip almost making you feel dizzy. ‘’Can you make me feel good?’’ 

Jay’s eyes widened for a split second as the words rolled off your tongue so softly, so softly that he almost missed them and he probably would’ve, if the apartment hadn’t been so quiet. His movements stopped, the pad of his thumb remaining on your bottom lip as his eyes met yours once more.

He looked for any type of doubt, any type of sign; a sign that giving into the urges he had carried around with him for months at this point would be a bad idea, something he’d regret later on; but there was none, no matter how hard he looked. 

No, instead he was met with your lustful eyes; your eyes filled with what Jay could only identify as the very same lust he himself was feeling. ‘’You want me to make you feel good?’’ He breathed, not taking his eyes off of you as he spoke, still looking for any type of warning sign telling him not to do it.

You nodded in response, ‘’Please.’’

And as soon as your soft voice filled the room and confirmed for Jay that you, in fact, wanted him, you suddenly felt yourself being thrown on the bed; with Jay suddenly towering above you - just like he had done two days prior. This time, however, he leaned down and pressed his lips against your own.

‘’I’ll make you feel good, okay?’’ He grunted, resting his forehead against your own. His words caused a whimper to leave your lips, eagerly nodding your head in response. ‘’’Just wanna have you, Jay,’’ You whimpered, wrapping your hands around his neck.

A low hiss left Jay’s lips as he dipped his head in the nape of your neck, his lips latching onto your sensitive skin once more; this time, however, his kisses were much rougher and the grip he had around your waist only hardened as he buckled his hips into your own. A whine emerged from the back of your throat as you threw your head back, a small wet patch forming in your underwear as his crotch pressed against your own; one of your hands gripping onto his wet hair. 

‘’I’ll make you forget everything but my name.’’

A loud gasp left your throat as he pressed his hips against your own once more, this time even harder, his teeth sinking into your skin; not even giving you the time to process what he had just said. Letting your hands get tangled into the wet locks covering his neck, you slightly tugged at his hair - earning a low grunt from him in return as he gently rolled his hips against your crotch.

You weren’t sure if this was the best way to take your mind off what had been weighing you down, or Sunghoon, more specifically. It wasn’t like you intended to end up under Jay, with his lips attached to your neck and his crotch grinding against your own when you showed up at his house, no, you thought maybe he could distract you and your wandering thoughts by maybe catching up on your English assignment.

This, however, feeling his rough fingers roam your body and his lips decorating your skin seemed to be working much better than studying ever could.

You hadn’t even noticed the way Jay had slowly begun to kiss down your neck, now letting his teeth nibble on the skin surrounding your collarbones; his hand that had previously been stroking your side was now gently pulling the fabric of your shirt further up your stomach, the cold air coming into contact with your now very hot, exposed skin causing you to whimper.

His lips suddenly left your skin, the loss of contact causing you to open your eyes and look down at him; only to be met by him already looking at you. His eyes were low, looking up at you through hooded eyes as he slowly moved down the bed - placing feather like kisses on top of your stomach while doing so. Your lips parted as you watched him kiss down your stomach, hooking both his arms under either side of your legs as he placed himself between them.

Keeping his eyes on you, he placed a kiss on the inside of your clothed thigh. ‘’Are you sure about this?’’ He mumbled against your thigh, still pressing small pecks on the inside of your thigh as he spoke. You quickly nodded, your hands finding their way back to his hair; your fingertips running through his now slightly dry hair. ‘’Please,’’ You whispered, nibbling on your bottom lip in anticipation.

A low chuckle left his throat, pressing one last kiss onto the inside of your thigh before his hands slipped off your hips; slowly making their way toward the zipper of your pants. ‘’Since you asked so nicely,’’ He mumbled, his fingers playing with your zipper, ‘’How about we take these off?’’

His eyes met yours once again, your head bobbing up and down in a nod once more; feeling the wet patch that had formed in your underwear grow more and more with each passing second. Only smirking at you, his gaze landed on your core as he unzipped your pants before helping you pull them down your legs - leaving you with nothing but your underwear on and your shirt scrunched up by your chest. 

Jay immediately spotted the wet patch that had formed on the cotton fabric covering your hole, his cock twitching in his pants at the sight; having to hold back a groan from leaving his throat as he placed one of his fingers against your clit, slowly letting it run up and down your clothed core. 

The sudden sensation caused a gasp to trail off your lips. The back of your head hit the pillow placed behind you, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the fabric of your underwear drag up and down your slit. ‘’Is this what a little bit of kissing does to you, hm?’’ Jay cooed, causing you to whimper as he applied some pressure to your clit. ‘’Jay,’’ You whined, your voice almost coming out in a broken whisper. Another chuckle left Jay’s lips as he used his other hand to gently stroke your thigh, leaning down to press a kiss on top of your clothed clit.

‘’I know, I know,’’ He mumbled, hooking one of his fingers under the fabric of your underwear, ‘’I’m not going to tease you, baby.’’

The nickname rolling off his tongue accompanied by the cold air hitting your now wet core as he pulled the fabric to the side caused a low moan to leave your lips, grabbing onto his hair even harder. Jay bit down on his bottom lip as your wet slit was fully revealed to him, once again letting his fingers run up and down your slit. This time, the moan that trailed off your lips as your arousal coated his finger caused him to slightly buck his hips into the mattress underneath him - finally letting his tongue come into contact with your core.

The feeling of his plump lips latching onto your clit with no warning whatsoever caused a gasp mixed together with a moan to rip through your chest, his tongue swiping against your clit causing your head to sink even further into the pillow. Using one hand to gently stroke your inner thigh while his tongue circled around your clit, a low grunt left his throat as he felt you tug at his hair even harder.

‘’Fuck,’’ You let out, taken aback by Jay’s eagerness - expecting him to go slow on you. Jay, however, had no plans on going slow on you; you wanted him to take your mind off things, didn’t you?

You suddenly felt him place his other hand by your entrance, his lips still wrapped around your clit; another low gasp leaving your lips as you felt one of his fingers trace the outside of your entrance. Jay let out a low hum of satisfaction upon feeling the amount of arousal spilling out of your hole, the vibrations causing you to arch your back.

Before you knew it, he was slipping one of his fingers into you with ease; your slick walls welcoming his finger, the feeling causing both you and Jay to let out a moan. Jay gave you no time to get used to his finger filling you up before suddenly curling it, and judging by the whimpers that were leaving your lips, Jay realized he must’ve found your g-spot.

Jay knew nothing about Sunghoon, your so-called best friend, but as he heard you whimper underneath him; he wondered if Sunghoon had ever had the opportunity to make you feel as good as he currently was.

The thought caused a burning feeling to spread across Jay’s chest, and he decided that if Sunghoon had ever made you whimper like you currently were; well, in that case, he was going to make you feel better than anyone else had ever made you feel before.

Feeling him slip yet another finger into you, another broken gasp left your lips as he began thrusting them out of you, before plunging them back into you. His tongue was still playing with your clit, the combination of both his tongue and his fingers caused you to squeeze your eyes shut as an overwhelming feeling of pleasure washed over you. 

‘’Jay,’’ You moaned, feeling a familiar knot beginning to form in your stomach; Jay’s fingers thrusting into you while his tongue left kitten licks on your clit causing you to almost buck your hips against his face. Jay looked up at you, smirking against your cunt as he spotted your face. 

With your hair spread out on the pillow and your lips slightly parted, you looked just like what Jay had fantasized about in the darkness of his room while tugging at his own cock, broken whimpers of your name spilling past his slips each and every time. 

Only this time, it was broken whimpers of his name spilling past your lips, not the opposite; and Jay wondered if you had ever thought about him like this before, too.

Thrusting his fingers into you, he curled his fingers; both his fingertips grazing against your g-spot as he wiggled his fingers inside of you. Keeping his eyes on you, he watched as broken moans and whimpers left your lips as you tried your best to stay still; to no avail. How were you supposed to stay still, when Jay was currently fingering you unlike no one else had ever done before?

Jay held back a chuckle as he watched your chest heave up and down, your legs slightly shaking and threatening to lock him in place; not that he would’ve complained, if it was up to him, he’d spend all eternity between your legs - just to hear the sweet moans that left your lips as his tongue swiped against your clit and as his fingers got coated in your arousal. 

‘’Fuck, wish I could take a picture of you right now,’’ 

Jay’s sudden muffled confession caused you to whimper, clenching around his fingers; which most definitely didn’t go unnoticed by Jay. Cocking an eyebrow in surprise, you felt him chuckle against your cunt. ‘’Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’’

‘’Fuck, Jay,’’ You whined in response, feeling your orgasm approaching; which Jay did, too. feeling your walls beginning to clench around his fingers was the first sign that you were close, plus the fact that you were unknowingly trying to get away from his grip; your hips lifting off the mattress every now and then as he hit just the right spot with his finger or as he sucked on your clit. 

Detaching his lips from your clit, panting from the lack of oxygen as he pressed a sloppy kiss against your inner thigh; his fingers still thrusting in and out of you. ‘’Are you close, baby?’’ He let out, to which you only nodded in response. 

You wanted to tell him how good he was, how incredibly good he was making you feel and how close you were to making a mess all over his fingers; but you simply couldn’t. Almost like you had gone mute, the words refused to leave your throat; your throat dry as you panted, trying your hardest to form a sentence. 

Jay, however, noticed how you were struggling to speak as you began to move your hips in sync with his fingers in an attempt to chase your high, the sound of the base of his fingers coming into contact with your sticky entrance filling the room combined with your heavy panting and low whimpers.

Smirking against your thigh, he placed one last kiss onto the skin of your thigh. ‘’Then be a good girl and cum for me.’’

Curling his fingers one more time, harshly wiggling them around caused the knot that had formed in your stomach to finally snap. Letting your hands fall onto your sides, grabbing onto the sheets as your orgasm washed over you in an attempt to ground yourself; a high-pitched moan ripping through your chest as Jay felt you coat his fingers with your cum. Watching as your hole swallowed his fingers, Jay bit down on his bottom lip - hoping he’d one day get to experience you clenching like that around his cock.

‘’Good girl, that’s a good girl,’’ He cooed, gently stroking your thigh as your body trembled underneath him. ‘’Look so pretty cumming for me.’’

Once he felt your body beginning to relax, he slowly slipped his fingers out of your hole; placing a soft kiss against your now sensitive clit, making you whimper as you shook your head. Sitting up straight, he wiped his mouth using the back of his hand before once again climbing on top of you. A small smile formed on his lips as he came face to face with you, the fucked out state of you making him feel accomplished.

Using the hand he hadn’t used to fuck you, he gently stroked your cheek in an attempt to make you open your eyes. His smile only widened as your eyes fluttered open, you looking up at him through low eyes; his hand running through your head to help you come down from your high. ‘’You did really good,’’ He mumbled, leaning down to press a soft kiss on top of your forehead.

His words caused a small smile to form on your lips as you wrapped both arms around his neck once again. ‘’You did really good.’’ You mumbled in response, your eyes heavy and your whole body feeling slack from the overwhelming orgasm you had just experienced.

A chuckle was heard coming from the boy above you, his fingers still threading through your now messy hair. ‘’Did I manage to take your mind off it?’’ He asked, his eyes meeting yours. You only nodded in response, too tired to properly respond - which was more than enough for Jay. Leaning down once again, he pressed a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth. ‘’How about you spend the night, hm?’’

Pulling him closer to you, his musky scent engulfed you for the nth time that day; nodding your head once more, feeling Jay press a soft kiss against your shoulder as he hummed against your skin.

While Jay definitely had managed to take your mind off Sunghoon, you hadn’t left Sunghoon’s mind; not even once, no matter how hard he had tried to distract himself. And maybe, just maybe, if Sunghoon would’ve texted you five minutes earlier that day, you actually would’ve seen the message about him asking to come over.

And maybe, just maybe, if Sunghoon would’ve texted you five minutes earlier that day, you actually would’ve seen the message about him asking to come over.

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 7

Beta if you're reading this, I'll see you in a bit!

Notes: talks of ableism and homophobia, it's not reader full blown trauma dumping but he's talking about his experiences as a closeted man with a controlling family. Check masterlist for previous parts.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

Pantalone’s demeanour immediately changes the moment the two of you are finally alone. The air in the room is no longer thick with tension, but as he offers you the last little piece of cake, you’re aware of a looming dread hanging over you. You’re aware the choice to finally stand your ground and defy your parents’ wishes, even if it’s just staying for dinner, will have consequences. Even then, witnessing Pantalone scold your parents like children was immensely satisfying, and makes your moment of recognized agency all the more sweeter. 

Speaking of sweetness, the cherry bublanina is delicious. You hum at the taste, and swallow down your mouthful. “That’s actually really good,” you say, “did your staff make it, or did you get it somewhere?”

“It’s homemade,” Pantalone answers, “but I believe the recipe came from an old cookbook one of my chefs owns. I’m sure it’s out of print by now, so perhaps I can ask them to write the recipe for you.”

“I appreciate it.”

Pantalone looks at you inquisitively. “Say, do you cook?”

“I can, I just don’t do it much,” you answer. “We have a couple chefs, and as you just saw, my mother is very… protective, so she’s never liked the idea of me handling knives or being around stoves.”

Pantalone cringes a bit. “I can imagine.”

“I get it to an extent,” you continue, “not being able to see anything that isn’t directly in front of me has way more disadvantages than advantages, but she acts like I’ll immediately forget something unless I’m looking right at it. I’m losing my vision, not my object permanence, I still know where the stove is because I’m not stupid.”

“Does this sort of… situation happen a lot?”

You furrow your brow. “The object permanence or barging in on my private outings?”

“Both, I suppose. I’m asking if she’s ever been this overbearing before.”

You click your tongue, and turn your head away from Pantalone. You find yourself staring at a painting depicting a field of flowers with mountains in the background. After a moment of trying to make out what the flowers are, you sort of snap out of it and remember he asked you a question.

“Um…” You furrow your brow and think of all the times your mother has been overbearing in your childhood. You count incidents in your teen years all the way until now, and come to a realization. “I think she’s getting worse.”

You see Pantalone open his mouth to respond, and then your words sink in and he remains quiet.

You go on. “Compared to when I was little, she’s incredibly overbearing. I don’t even think it’s like she’s just as protective as when I was little, but now that I’m older it feels suffocating. I think she’s genuinely becoming more clingy with me.”

“I… I see. I’m sorry to hear that?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” you say, “and honestly, I don’t really want to talk about my parents right now.”

Your host shrugs. “I suppose that’s fair enough. To be quite honest, I only asked out of courtesy. I put up with your father’s antics and burdens enough as is.”

You chuckle. “I’d tell you you’re lucky you don’t live with him, but it wouldn’t be that different from now, huh?”

“No, it would not.”

There’s a knock on the door, and Pantalone perks up. You hear it open, and hear it’s Fyodor. “Sir, the two guests are having an argument outside.”

You hide your head in your hands and groan. 

“Are they getting physical?” Pantalone asks.

“No, but it’s disturbing the peace and they’re not leaving.”

You hear Pantalone sigh. “If they don’t settle down and leave in the next two minutes, or if it does turn physical, get security involved.”

You presume Fyodor nods before he closes the door. You take a deep breath, humiliation washing over you and sinking into your pores. “I’m sorry, I-I don’t know why I expected them to be normal. I should’ve just declined the invite.”

You hear the scraping of Pantalone’s chair, and the clicking of heeled boots approaching you. You feel him right next to him, and jolt when his hand settles on your shoulder. You lift and turn your head to look at it, and here, you can see manicured nails, shining gemstone rings, and to your shock, how blemished and scar riddled the skin of his hand is. Some of them are small and neat, little cuts and scratches, but some are deep and painful looking, you’re not even sure what would have caused most of them. You can only assume the silvery splits on his knuckles are from old fights. What the hell happened to him?

“Would you care to see the library?”

You tilt your head up and see Pantalone smiling expectantly at you. “Oh, sure,” you answer. Pantalone steps back and lets you stand up from your chair. You push your chair back in before you follow Pantalone out of the room. Trailing behind him like a duckling, you find your pace instinctively slows down and your eyes drift back to the oddly unsettling art pieces he has lining the walls of the hallway. You want to be able to take in the macabre sight of them, which would be easier if you could actually see things normally.

Pantalone’s made considerable distance before he realizes you’re lagging behind. He stops, turning over to see you’ve now fully stopped, staring up at a particularly gruesome scene with some concern and confusion. He chuckles, joining you in staring up at the painting.

“It’s a lovely piece, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Indeed,” you reply, “love the use of red. Some say it’s the colour of warmth and love. I imagine it really puts guests at ease.”

He lets out a little laugh. “You know, perhaps I should have expected an author to have a little knowledge in colour theory.”

“It comes with the territory.”

“We’re almost to the library,” Pantalone states, “though we can stop and chat about art. I’m in no rush.”

You hum. “I’m more curious why all of your art is so… morbid.”

“I enjoy morbid art pieces,” Pantalone answers, “there’s something about the raw and visceral imagery that strikes a chord with me. Do you not enjoy it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you reply, “I’ll read books about tragedy and horror every now and then, and I enjoy gruesome depictions in art as much as the next person.”

“But?”

You shrug. “I don’t think I’d put them up in every hallway, but that’s also my personal preference. If you like it, more power to you.”

“I’ve had a few members of staff say they’ve been startled by certain pieces when wandering the halls late at night,” Pantalone comments, “so perhaps that supports your argument better.”

“I mean, I probably wouldn’t even see them if I was walking around at night.”

“Right, no peripheral vision.”

“Oh, not even that.” You turn yourself so you can properly talk to Pantalone. “One of the other symptoms of my condition is night blindness. My eyes can’t adjust to darkness anymore.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you.”

“What are you… oh, oh.” Pantalone chuckles. “Very funny. I’m sure you make that joke a lot.”

“People take me going blind too seriously,” you say, “they’re always worried they’re going to upset me if they even bring it up. That or they try to baby me like my mother does. If I make fun of it, it kind of puts people at ease.”

“Well, going blind is rather serious, no?”

“I mean, yes, but if I’ve already made peace with it, then everyone else should too.”

The conversation continues as you and Pantalone make your ways down the hall. He glances at you over his shoulder. “Apologies if I’m overstepping, but doesn’t it scare you at least a little bit?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m thrilled,” you answer, “but you have to understand that I’ve known about this since I was eight. I’ve been living like this my whole life. Worrying isn’t going to make my eyesight better again, so I just have to grit my teeth, plan accordingly, and just keep going.”

“Fair enough.”

You follow Pantalone around a corner. “Besides, I can still see. I can’t see well, but I can see things.”

“What do you see, anyways? What does it look like for you?”

“Curl your index fingers and thumbs until they make two small holes, and then look through them. That’s pretty much it.”

“That sounds awful.”

“It certainly is.”

“Oh, here we are,” Pantalone says. He takes a step to the right and immediately disappears from sight. You turn to follow him–

Thunk! “Ow, fuck, shit.”

You hear Pantalone snort before he turns his laugh into a cough. “Are you alright?”

You rub your forehead. “It’s not the first door frame I’ve walked into, and it won’t be the last.”

“That was quite loud. Here, let me see…”

When you feel slim, calloused yet smooth fingers take hold of each side of your face, you immediately forget about walking into the door frame. He gently tilts your head up, and now all you can see is his face, and at this proximity you only see his face. He does not seem overly concerned, and his brow is furrowed in concentration. You nervously gulp, face growing hot. You’ve never had anyone this close to you, touching your face so tenderly, let alone another man. Not a man with striking eyes, with scarred, soft hands. Not a man who smells of black tea and leather scented cologne with notes of something floral. 

Your eyes flick down to his lips, for the briefest of glances, and then Pantalone pulls back with a cheery expression. “You have a slight mark,” he tells you, “but nothing that should bruise.”

You imagine you look incredibly and obviously flustered, and your brain is still reeling at the lingering feeling of his hands on your face. You somehow pull yourself together and clear your throat with the elegance of a brick crashing through a window. “O-Oh, good, that’s good.”

“With that out of the way,” he continues, “this is the library.”

Pantalone steps aside to let you properly step inside. Your head is on a slow swivel, taking in the magnitude of the room. It’s magnificent, truly. Walls with bookshelves packed full of books from the tall ceiling to the hardwood floor. In one corner of the room, you spy a liquor cabinet. There’s also a fireplace glowing red and gold with flames, and two armchairs with an accompanying end table, arranged symmetrically a comfortable distance away from the fireplace. 

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

You’re speechless, in utter awe of the room you’re standing in. You step further into the room, marvelling at the sheer amount of books. It makes the “private library” your parents have at home look absolutely pitiful. 

You hear Pantalone walk off. “Could I get you anything to drink? It’s a tad early for it, but I think we earned it for surviving that whole encounter.”

“Um… Oh, n-no, I’m okay for now,” you reply, still awestruck. “Sorry, I’m just…”

“Enchanted?”

“Yes, thank you.” You turn to the direction his voice came from, and after a couple seconds of looking, you find him looking through his collection. He perks up when you speak. “How many of these books have you read?”

“All of them.”

You laugh. “Really? All of them?”

“A vast majority, at least,” he clarifies, “do you not believe me?”

“Would you be hurt if I said not really?”

“Absolutely shattered,” he teases, “I don’t think I would ever recover from the lies and slander.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, fine, I believe you.”

“Splendid.” He shuts the cabinet and gestures to the shelves. “You’re free to browse or take a seat. Dinner won’t be ready for hours, so if there’s anything you want to know or do, feel free to ask.”

“I don’t even know where I’d start…”

“I admittedly don’t read much romance,” Pantalone says, pointing to a shelf somewhere behind you, “but I believe I own some of the classics, and a few others.”

“Are any of them books I’ve written?”

“Not yet.”

“I figured as…” You blink. “Wait, not yet?”

He laughs. “I wasn’t aware of your work when I first met your father,” he explains, “in fact, the night I walked into your office was the same night I learned you were an author. I’ve since then heard good things about your writing, yet I couldn’t decide which book of yours I should read first, so I’m waiting for, what was it called again, Plucking Heartstrings?”

You feel your eyes widen and your face flush. “You… You want to read my new book?”

Pantalone gives you an odd look. “Yes? Did you think I sent the manuscript off simply because I felt like it?”

“You gave me this whole speech about using it to gain my trust and make my mother lower her guard, or something along those lines.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “It wasn’t my only motive, and that was before today’s debacle. The point is I’m intrigued by your book.”

You feel your face grow warmer. “You are?”

“You ask that like I’ve said something unbelievable,” Pantalone remarks. “Honestly, I think most people would be naturally curious if someone they knew was related to an author, or an artist, or a musician. What little I’ve read of your draft, the fact it was accepted by the Yae Publishing House, and all this chatter and fuss about how this book is different and how you’d rather write books like this implies this is no low brow, poorly written smut or cliché riddled fairytale.”

“Well, it’s just…” You sigh. “If people saw you read it, they might think you’re gay.”

Pantalone’s laugh is especially loud, given the two of you are standing in the middle of a library. “I hardly see why that matters. I’m the richest man in the world and a Fatui Harbinger. My sexuality would hardly affect how the people already perceive me. Besides, I doubt me reading a book about two men is any more queer than you writing it. Hell, they’d probably assume the same things about either of us if it was a man and woman.”

“I… guess you have a point.”

Pantalone motions to the armchair closest to you, inviting you to take a seat. You do, and he does as well. The chair is rather comfortable, and you settle in nicely. 

“That actually brings me to something I’ve been meaning to ask, but was unsure how or when to bring it up.”

This can only be bad. “Alright.”

Pantalone crosses one leg over the other in his seat. “Aren’t you worried about your family, well, figuring it out when the book releases?” he asks. “I know you said your father won’t read your books, but I imagine the basic premise will make it back to him at some point, and I know your mother is going to read it.”

You feel a twinge in your stomach and an ache in your chest. Truth be told, that’s part of the reason it’s taken you so long to get the story out. You’ve spent nearly four years slowly poking and prodding at the idea before finally dedicating yourself to it because you feared what your family may think, both of the book and of you.

You think the look on your face conveys your worries, as Pantalone shakes his head. “You don’t have to answer, my apologies.”

“I-I had a whole plan,” you tell him, “for when this book released, because I know this will be seen as me coming out by everyone who knows me or reads my books.”

“Which was?”

“I wasn’t going to be in Snezhnaya when it was finally published.”

Pantalone quirks an eyebrow.

You continue. “I love my home here, but it’s just… with how my condition works, it’s a bit of a nightmare sometimes. The constant storms mean there’s not as much sunlight during the day and night seemingly falls faster. It messes with my night blindness. I’ve been saving up so I can move to Liyue, so I can actually go outside and enjoy some sunlight.” You shift in your seat. “I, um, also want to have a proper garden. I know I’m inevitably going to go fully blind, so I want to have something pretty to look at in my memories, and so I can at least enjoy the smell of flowers when I can’t see them anymore.”

At the mention of Liyue and flowers, Pantalone seems to immediately snap to attention. He appeared to be listening intently, but that really caught his attention. “Is that so?”

You nod. “That’s, um, mostly fantasy. It’s been hard saving up. I do have an inheritance from my late grandfather that was supposed to go to an Akademya education or buying my own home, but I also have to account for travel expenses actually moving to Liyue, getting items shipped over and then buying new furniture, buying my own food, and I’m paying for my doctors appointments and treatments to keep myself from going blind faster. As much as I love writing, I’m not at a point where I can actually live off of it.”

“You know, if you need assistance or advice, you can ask me.”

“I appreciate it,” you tell him, “but I shouldn’t trouble you.”

Pantalone lips suddenly curl into a smile. He leans forward in his seat, intertwining his fingers together. “You do realize who you’re talking to, don’t you?”

You look at him oddly, and then you remember Pantalone is literally a banker, and laugh. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I am serious, though,” Pantalone states, “if you’re struggling to come up with a financial plan that fits your budget, that is a service we provide at the bank. If you want me to help you, though, you’re going to have to book an appointment ahead of time.”

You snicker. “Why not now?”

“Just because I like you doesn’t mean I’m going to give you special treatment on my day off,” he teases.

You shrug. “Worth a shot.”

The conversation lulls. You hear the soft crackling of the fire, and find yourself looking around at the shelves again. Obviously at this distance you can’t see what they are, but you’re still very impressed by the collection. 

After another moment of quiet, Pantalone speaks up again. “So, why did you start writing?”

You clear your throat and look back at him. “I loved to read as a child,” you say, “I only had a few friends growing up, not including my siblings, so I spent most of my free time just reading. As I grew older, it grew into an interest in writing.”

Pantalone nods along. “Now, may I ask why romance?”

“I just like romance,” you tell him, “it’s cheesy, I know, but I enjoy stories about falling in love and finding your soulmate. My family would tease me about how they’re more for girls, so I would hide them in the dust covers of other books.”

“Like your reference material?”

You groan. “Yes, like my reference material. It is actual reference material, by the way, b-but I doubt you would believe me regardless.”

“Will it make it into your book?” Pantalone asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“No, it won’t,” you answer, “I spent so long trying to figure out how the hell to even write it that it stopped being appealing, so instead it just fades to black. Let the audience decide what happens and it’ll probably be better than whatever I was trying to do.”

Pantalone smiles. 

You sigh. “Anyways, part of the reason I wanted to write romance is that after a few years of reading about blushing maidens and their prince charmings, I realized two things.”

“Which were?”

“Well, one, that I like men.”

Pantalone laughs.

“And two… I couldn’t find any books that were actually tailored for men like me. Nothing that wasn’t egregiously explicit or horribly distasteful, anyways. I figured if I can’t find anything to read, then maybe I should be the one to write it.”

You watch Pantalone’s expression change slowly with every word you speak. He stops looking so amused by your joke, actually taking your thoughts in. His eyes soften, as does his smile, and in the glow of the fireplace, the way he looks at you is so… warm.

“That’s really a lovely mentality,” he says softly, not a hint of condescension in his voice. “I’m sure someone out there will greatly appreciate it, and I’m hopeful that it will be a success.”

Your stomach flutters, and you hear and feel your heartbeat. You can’t help the smile that twitches onto your lips, that stretches across your face. You tilt your head down slightly so his expression doesn’t distract you. “Thank you. It really does mean a lot to hear that.”

“I mean it.”

You feel your heart in your chest and your throat. Why does he sound so fond when he says it?

A knock on the open door causes you to jump, Fyodor’s voice makes itself known again. “Sir, could I borrow you for a moment? The chef has a question for you.”

Pantalone sighs and stands. He smiles down at you. “One moment, please.”

You nod and watch as Pantalone walks across the library to the door. You hear his heels clack against the floor, growing quieter and quieter until they disappear completely. Soon, you are left in the quiet of the library alone.

You quickly bury your face in your hands as realization hits you at full force.

This isn’t a little crush, and it never was. You want Pantalone.

[dragonfly41777]

Requested by: @bzzyb00-96

Anything for You

Vox x GN Reader

A/n: Istg I've been watching the Newsies so much just within the past few days, like this is my third time watching it while writing this 💃 Anyways, had a lot of fun writing this! This is my first time writing anything for characters so I hope it turned out good 🙏 Also! This took a bit longer to post just because I spent like 10 hours on that damn drawing trying to get it right 💀 Next time I'm not drawing a full ass character in a pose, especially bc I won't have time during the week-

Warnings: slight cursing like twice but that's it- also might be ooc but eh, what can you do 🤷‍♀️

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

It wasn't often that Vox had time to relax. A majority of his time was filled with meetings, filing out paperwork, and airing on his show. It didn't help that nearly every other day he had to deal with Valentino's constant temper tantrums. Because of this, Vox grew to appreciate your company a lot more. Your voice alone was enough to ease his aches and worries- which is why he couldn't say no to a movie night in the comfort of your shared bedroom.

"Would you want to bake something before we watch a movie? I was thinking chocolate chip cookies because we have the ingredients for it and I figured you wouldn't want to head out and buy ingredients." You said in that sickeningly sweet tone of yours. He swore you did it on purpose sometimes.

A chuckle left his lips- or, screen? "Anything for you, sweetheart." As the both of you made your way into the kitchen, you spent the remainder of the time mixing the ingredients together. Occasionally you two would bicker about what the right measurements were.

"I'm pretty sure it's half a cup of sugar, doll face." He crossed his arms in amusement.

"And I'm pretty sure I know how to read, dumbass. Look, it says one cup right there." You handed your phone to him and pointed to where it said 1 cup of granulated sugar. Just as you were about to tease him about being wrong, he burst your bubble.

"You do remember that we're halving the recipe, right? You were the one that suggested it in the first place" A smirk lit up his screen as realization dawned on you.

"Right- I knew that" Your face turned hot with embarrassment as you waved off his remark and measured out 1/2 a cup of sugar.

"Sure you did, sweetheart-"

"Oh shut up!" You elbowed him in the side with a huff, focusing on the task at hand. Vox simply chuckled before leaning in and placing a kiss on the top of your head. You had gotten used to the staticky feeling his kisses left, and even found it endearing.

After a while the cookies had finally finished baking, which you had all but shoved Vox away insisting you take it out of the oven. "Stand back, Princess, wouldn't want you frying your circuits now." He scoffed at the remark, leaning against the counter as you put on oven mitts and carefully grabbed the tray of freshly baked cookies. The sweet aroma filled the air around the both of you making you wish you hadn't halved the recipe.

Vox made his way into the pantry to grab a package of popcorn and

The two of you settled into the couch once the snacks were prepped and turned on a random shitty romcom- as Vox had put it. The movie slowly became background noise as his attention focused on you curled up by his side. He had to admit, it all seemed so domestic with you. Healthy relationships were foreign to him before you entered his life if that wasn't apparent with Valentino. Even while he was alive he always spent too much time focusing on his work to have a lasting relationship. You, on the other hand, were always so patient and caring with him- you knew he had a lot on his plate with being the head of VoxTech and made sure he took breaks, made sure he ate and drank, and you let him know if he did anything wrong. And God was he grateful for you. He always asked himself what he did to deserve someone like you... but despite it all, the one thing that ran through his head was how he would do anything for you. He planted a soft kiss on the top of your head, his screen resting there for a few seconds before focusing his attention back onto the movie.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Hope you all enjoyed this one! I genuinely don't think I like it 🥰 But that could just be because I was too distracted by the Newsies soundtrack while writing this 🧍‍♀️

[nolita-fairytale]

comfort & chaos (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) chapter two: covid & carbonara

summary: in a time of isolation, you and carmy find unexpected connection in unexpected places: each other. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language, mentions of covid-19/the pandemic, eventual smut.

word count: 4k

listen to: hot sugar - glass animals | hard to live in the city - albert hammond jr. | alone together - del water gap | foreign girls - bleachers

read: chapter one

March 2020: 

“Carmy, can you hear me now?” you ask, listening carefully for his response. 

“Yeah hold on. Wifi’s shit in this room,” he mumbles. You hear a rustle of sounds and the picture on your phone goes blurry for a second. This is just something you’ve come to accept is a part of your life now as you wait. 

Suddenly, the picture is clear again and it looks like Carmy’s in his living room now. He wears a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants as he tries to get comfy on the shitty sofa in his Flatiron apartment. 

“Ok there we go. I gotta-, yeah, I can hear you now,” he says, finally settling in. 

“How are you?” you ask as you grow more sure that you’re going to be able to talk now. “It’s good to see your face.”

“Yeah, no uh. It’s good to see you too,” he replies. “Shit’s so weird right now, huh?”

“Totally,” you agree. “So… what’ve you been up to? I mean… how are you spending your time?”

He sighs, shaking his head, as if to say that he barely knows how to answer that question. He thinks it over before answering with:

“I don’t know. Workin’ on some recipes. Tryin’ not to lose my fuckin’ head. You?”

“Same,” you commiserate. “Though… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been enjoying some of the down time, you know?”

He couldn’t agree less. 

Carmy tells you about the recipes he’s working on. You share with him the plot of the show you’re binge watching right now. He tells you he hasn’t really been in touch with family much and you let him know that you’ve been running errands for your parents where you can. It’s a fairly normal conversation for a very uncertain and strange time, but it brings you comfort – talking to Carmy. 

You talk about the state of the restaurant industry. The state of the world. The two of you wonder when the restaurant might open back up – if they’ll consider doing to-go’s. He’s not sure and neither are you.

It’s almost two hours later when you realize your phone is dying, and that somehow, time has flown as the two of you have been talking. 

“Shit, uh. My phone’s dying. I may have to go,” you say remorsefully. 

“Oh yeah! No problem,” Carmy replies, almost apologetically. “And I uh, if I get in touch with the people at World Central Kitchen, I’ll let you know. I’m sure they can always use more chefs and volunteers.”

“No, that’d be great. Uh… before I go,” you start, knowing that you want to tell him this. “I just wanted to say… I’m glad we did this.”

“Yeah me too,” he agrees, and you can tell he means it. 

“Maybe… we do it again? Keep each other company… you know. Virtually?” you propose, hopefully. 

“Yeah,” Carmy half smiles. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And as the pandemic drags on, you find yourself FaceTiming with Carmy more and more. Once a week turns into once a week and a consistent exchange of texts. He shares with you the recipes he’s working on. You bounce ideas around with him on dishes he feels stuck on. You send him silly memes and TikToks, even though he refuses to get an account himself. Once a week turns into twice a week, and then phone calls, and soon enough, you don’t go a day without talking to Carmy in some capacity. 

You’re not sure how you’ve done it but you think that maybe you and Carmy just might be friends. 

May 2020: 

“Thanks so much for all the help guys. It means a lot. Especially having two chefs of your caliber,” the volunteer coordinator says, addressing both you and Carmy. 

“Listen, we’re just happy to be a part of something right now. With so much going on… it’s hard to know where to begin helping,” you reply with gratitude. You’re genuinely thankful that you’ve been able to be a part of World Central Kitchen’s COVID relief efforts, and you know Carmy feels the same. 

“We’ll see you guys next Friday?” the volunteer coordinator asks. 

“Heard,” Carmy answers, thanking the coordinator one more time before the two of you leave the building. 

Around the corner, there’s a bench that the two of you find. It’s an easy choice to sit down – neither of you are quite ready to go home yet. You sit on opposite sides before removing your masks as Carmy pulls out a pack of marlboros. 

“You want one?” he asks you, holding out the pack.

“Yeah,” you agree, taking one from him at a distance. You watch him light up, before handing you the lighter he keeps in his jean jacket pocket.

It’s nice to take a moment to pause. Between the chaos of being in a kitchen again to the chaos of the world around you, it feels good to smoke a fucking cigarette on a street corner with the man that’s so unexpectedly become your friend. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the sounds of the city, each others’ company, and your fuckin’ cancer sticks. 

You break the silence between the two of you, letting out the smallest chuckle.

“What?” Carmy asks you, your laugh garnering his attention. 

“It’s just… it’s almost funny,” you say, continuing your giggle. 

“What?” he asks you again, a look of amusement on his face. He can’t imagine what must be so funny. 

“Just… seeing you here… Mr. Fine Dining…makin’ sandwiches,” you tease playfully. “Thought you were too fancy-pants for that.”

“Fuck off,” he rolls his eyes playfully, sucking on his cigarette as he inhales. You laugh again as he shakes his head, shooting you another look. 

He takes his time, exhaling the smoke out in the opposite direction, before addressing your playful remarks. 

“Nah. It uh-, actually reminds me of my family’s place a little. Back home,” he shares with you. 

It catches you off guard. Carmy rarely ever talks about home, let alone his family. 

“Yeah?” you ask curiously, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod, before placing the cigarette back in between his lips. 

To your disappointment, you realize that’s all he’s planning to share. You resign yourself, taking another drag of your cigarette as the two of you smoke to the sounds of the city. After a long shift at the volunteer kitchen, your exhaustion begins to catch up with you. It’s been a few months since you’ve had to stand for that long, and as exhilarating as it’s been, you can feel the fatigue in your back and your feet already. 

“So… I was thinkin’ about something,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

You angle your body towards him before asking, “What’s that?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s dumb.” 

He’s suddenly shy, and your eyes flicker over his cheeks that have turned a darker shade of red than they were before. 

“Carmy, what is it?” you ask, leaning towards him, now intrigued.

He avoids your gaze before he replies, “Nah. Nevermind. It’s stupid.” 

“No, it’s not! What is it?” you continue to press him.

You’re not going to let this go. 

“I shouldn't've said anything.” 

He sighs, taking one more drag of his cigarette before leaning forward and tossing it on the ground. His left foot hovers over the cigarette butt as he stamps it out, his forearms resting on his legs as he finally turns to you again. 

“I don’t know how you feel about it, and you can totally say no because like… shit’s still fucked, you know but-,” he starts, shyly. Was Carmy about to ask you out?

 He pauses, his eyes scanning the pavement beneath his feet before saying, “It’s just-, I’m not like, seeing anyone else in person. Except you.”

“Yeah, no me either,” you agree. 

Where was this going?

“Would you maybe wanna-?” he asks, before trailing off, his piercing blue eyes so intense it feels like he’s looking right through you. He nods towards the kitchen before continuing with, “... see each other in person. Like outside of here. As long as we’re being safe you know?” 

You nod, quick to put the poor man at ease, and only a little intrigued as to why it was so difficult for him to ask you that. 

“Yeah no. I’m not seeing anyone else in person either. And at this point if we had COVID, we’d probably already have exposed each other, right?” you reply. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

“Yeah, I’d be down. To… you know. Maybe move some of our FaceTimes… in person, if that’s what you mean,” you agree, a smile on your face. 

You’re not sure what you expected, but you weren’t expecting for Carmy to ask you to become his quarantine buddy – even if you’d already kind of been doing it anyways. 

“Cool,” he says, taking a breath. 

You can tell that it was a big deal for him – to ask you that – even if he doesn’t want to show it. 

“Can I walk you home?” he asks. 

You smile in return, “Yeah. And if you’re feeling wild… we can… pick something up on the way there. You can come up and hang.”

“No, yeah. That uh-, that sounds great,” he replies, something softer in his eyes this time. “If you don’t mind. I mean-, if you want the company-.”

“Oh shut up, Berzatto,” you roll your eyes at him. You shoot him a look, even though you’re kind of loving this softer side of him. 

“I wouldn’t have offered, if I didn’t.”

July 2020: 

Carmen Berzatto becomes an unexpected yet pleasantly surprising part of your support system, and your COVID-pod. It’s hard to believe that less than a year ago, you thought the man absolutely hated you. He’s still the hot and cold, emotionally turbulent man you met last October, and he’s also become your friend. You’ve learned that he can be soft, that he’s terribly uncomfortable in any and all social situations, and that he’s the most single-minded, driven, obsessed motherfucker you’ve ever met. 

By now, the restaurant has pivoted and reopened for to-gos only. It’s nothing like the fine dining establishment it was before. You’re only open Thursday to Sunday and it’s a much more family style, to-go kit sort of operation these days: to-go cocktail kits, to-go curated menus, to-go assemble your own dishes at home. 

It’s strange. And it’s a strange time for all of you. 

You’re finished with your shift today, ready to head home and spend the next three days off. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get three days off in a row once all of this is over, so you’ve decided that you’re just going to embrace the slower lifestyle right now. You’ve been more creative in this chapter of your life than you can remember. 

“So you layin’ it down for Carmy or what?” a voice asks, jolting you from your thoughts. 

“Excuse me?” you snap, turning your head to a very smug looking Nate Walker, stripping off his face mask.

“What the fuck, man?” Tim exclaims, as he’s changing back into his street shoes. “Not okay to say.”

“What?” Nate defends himself. “I’m just wondering who I have to thank. This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen the boss man.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “Really nice, Nate.” 

You shake your head, before slinging your backpack over your right arm, exchanging a look with Tim. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Carmy and I are just friends,” you correct. “Ever think that some time off has been good for all of us and that’s why Carmy’s been chill?”

“‘S not like we’re working at the same capacity we used to be. I think it’s been good for him,” Tim chimes in, trying to offer you a little backup.

“Sure,” Nate replies, unconvinced. 

“What’s it to you anyways, Walker?” Tim asks, putting the spotlight on his coworker. 

“Nothin’,” Nate replies, defensively. “Just noticed you guys spendin’ a lot of time together lately. Besides, the guy could use a good lay.”

“You’re a child,” you snap with an eye roll. You slide your left arm into the other strap of your backpack, ready to leave. “Now if we’re done with the girl talk, I’m going home.”

As you begin to walk away, you can hear Nate defending himself as Tim points out how inappropriate it was for him to say that to you. You’re grateful for people like Tim, because you’re not sure that Nate would listen to anyone else lower in the French brigade system – let alone a woman. 

“We still on for tomorrow?” Carmy asks you, as you're on your way out. He’s still in his chef whites because, as the both of you know, he’s going to be the last person to leave. A smile spreads across your face as soon as you see him. 

That’s right. You’re spending your day off tomorrow with him. 

“Yeah,” you smile with a nod. 

“Mine or yours?” he asks. 

You shoot him a look – a ‘I know you haven’t cleaned up your place’ kind of look. 

“Mine,” you reply. 

“Sweet. There’s a cool market nearby I wanted to check out. I’ll pick somethin’ up on the way,” he says back. 

“Heard.”

You wait a beat before adding, “Try not to work too hard, chef.”

He likes that you’re looking out for him. 

He smiles, “Heard.”

*

As much as you’ve tried not to let Nate Walker get to you, you can’t stop thinking about what he said the day before. Did people think you and Carmy were sleeping together? Did the whole staff think you were trying to sleep your way to the top? Your mind races, and you notice the anxious feelings you have have settled deep in your chest. Carmy moves around your kitchen, intentionally, and while you’d like to enjoy how happy he looks when he cooks for fun, you can’t seem to shut off your brain. 

“You sure I can’t help? I went to culinary school too, yknow?” you ask, trying to put on your best lighthearted tone. 

“Nah,” he dismisses, pulling together a sauce in one of the glass bowls you keep in your kitchen for prep. 

As Carmy steals a glance your way, he’s surprised to find that whatever weight it seems you were carrying when he first walked in, hasn’t gone away. He returns his focus to the stovetop, shaking the stainless clad frying pan that holds his precisely-cut lardons. 

“What’s up?” he asks you, keeping his back to you. 

“Uh… nothing,” you reply, trying your best to shake it off. 

He knows you’re lying, and he turns to look at you again, more intently this time. Your lips are pressed together in a thin line and there’s a new tension knitted between your brows that’s not normally there. As much as you’re trying not to let it get to you, your face betrays you and he knows that something’s been bothering you all day. He shoots you an unconvinced look and you sigh in defeat. 

Since when had Carmy learned what that look meant. 

“Just-, you’re gonna think it’s dumb,” you start, almost embarrassed that you have to bring this up to him. 

“What’s up?” he asks, patiently. 

You shrug, “Just something that Nate said yesterday’s been… bothering me, I guess.”

He rolls his eyes, letting out a dry laugh as he asks you, “Well Nate’s a dick. What’d he say?”

“I-, I don’t know if I should tell you,” you admit hesitantly. 

“Why?” he asks, a pang of nerves hitting him right in the gut. 

You wait a beat, trying to figure out how best to convey what Nate said without freaking Carmy out. 

“He uh… he kind of… suggested that everyone thinks we’re sleeping together?” you say cautiously, your voice going up at the end of the sentence, almost as if it were a question. 

“Oh,” is all Carmy manages to get out. 

“Yeah,” you exhale. 

“Well, we’re not,” Carmy replies, simply. 

Right. 

“Right,” you agree. 

You’re surprised by the feeling of disappointment that wells in your chest in response to Carmy’s reply. This had been eating away at you and for him to shut it down so quickly – like it was that simple – doesn’t quite make sense to you. 

Maybe it’s because men never bear the burden of an inappropriate workplace relationship, not that you’re having one with Carmy, but you know it’d be a bigger cost to you than it’d ever be for him.

“I just…” you start, beginning to understand why it’s bothering you so much. “Do you think… like is it a problem that we’re hanging out? I mean, you are kind of my boss and… I don’t know. I guess we never really talked about the ethical implications of… you know. Us. Being friends. And also working together.”

Friends. 

Right. 

Maybe because it’s because he’s never really had friends, let alone a girlfriend, that catches Carmy off guard.

You’re just friends, motherfucker, Carmy thinks to himself. 

It’s like he’d almost forgotten. 

Perhaps it’s the isolation – the way of the world right now – but he’s never thought about what you were to him. Ever since the two of you had decided to start spending time together, it had been you and him against a very scary and uncertain world. Carmy’s surprised to find that, hearing it said aloud, friends, leaves him with a feeling of dissatisfaction – like the word friend didn’t quite describe the way he felt about you. 

But he’s terrified to think about what that could mean. That anything else would probably scare you away – push you out of his life – and there’s no way in hell he’s going to let that happen right now. 

Because he likes this too much. 

Because he likes who he is when he’s with you. 

Because you’re all he has. 

He pushes the thoughts out of his mind for another time, because right now, you’re sitting right in front of him, and he’s got a problem to solve for you. 

“As long as we’re professional in the kitchen… I don’t see why it should be a problem,” he says. 

You’re not sure how it seems so simple for him, because it doesn’t feel this simple for you. 

“Yeah, no. I-, I agree,” you lie. 

Carmy returns to what he’s doing, and you accept that that’s probably the full conversation that you’re going to have with him. At least right now. You watch as he continues to cook, pulling together the sauce as he tosses the pasta and cheese in your frying pan. You open up your phone, scrolling through a few social media posts to try your best to get your mind off of your worries as Carmy finishes up in your kitchen. 

It’s not long before he’s returned to your small dining table. You set your phone down, watching as he approaches you. 

“I remember you mentioning that it’s hard to find a good carbonara so uh… thought I’d make you one,” he says confidently. Carmy hands you bowl containing a perfectly twirled nest of spaghetti, along with a fork he’d gotten from your kitchen. 

“How do I know it’s gonna be up to my standards?” you challenge him playfully. 

He shoots you a ‘don’t play with me’ kind of look and you giggle in response. You exchange glances with Carmy before messing up the perfectly plated nest by digging your fork into it. 

“Make sure you get a little bit of everything,” he reminds you. He watches as you twirl the spaghetti around your fork, making sure to scoop up a bit of crispy guanciale. You lift the fork to your mouth before taking a bite, your eyes closing as the salty, cheesy, bite hits your tongue. 

It’s perfect.  

“Holy fuck,” you practically moan in response to your first bite. You open your eyes and he smiles back at you, proud of the response he’s earned from you. Your face twists into a look that falls somewhere between ‘this is so good I’m angry and hello, I’ve reached nirvana.’ 

“This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude,” you say, as you continuing processing the most perfect carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. 

“No offense taken,” he says. 

You shake your head at him, “Best carbonara ever.”

September 2020: 

“So we go upstate, and we’re searching for outdoor activities we can do, you know, safely, at a distance, with masks on. And we end up at this goat farm,” Maya says, describing her and her fiance’s last few months spent in upstate New York. 

“...Was the goat named Milo?” Carmy asks, a humorous tone to his question. 

“Carmy!” you exclaim with a laugh, shooting him a look. 

“What?” he asks back. 

Both Liz, Maya, and her fiance Patrick send you questioning looks. 

“I-, it’s an inside joke,” you explain, shaking your head once again in response to Carmy’s very silly interjection. 

“Anyways, it’s so nice to be back in the city. Seriously, Liz, thanks for organizing this,” Maya continues. 

“Oh, I’m kind of getting really into this whole cute picnic thing actually,” she replies, in reference to the picnic she’s organized for the five of you. “Plus, the to-go picnic kit has been killing at the restaurant. Thanks for letting me run with that, chef.”

“No, yeah. You’re killin’ it. It was a great idea,” Carmy compliments. 

The five of you spend time in the park, catching up and enjoying time spent in person for the first time in a long time. You, Liz, and Carmy have been back at work, pushing through, what will hopefully be, the last month or so in the to-go only business at the restaurant. As the sun begins to come down, you all agree that it’s time to pack it up and go home. You’ve begun to collect all of the trash in a brown paper bag as Carmy offers to take it. 

“You sure?” you ask him. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

As he takes a walk, in search of the nearest trash can, your friends are immediately on you about whatever the hell it is that you and Carmy are doing. 

“So what I’m hearing is… you talk every day, you have inside jokes together, and you’re basically quarantining together. How are you trying to tell us that this man is not your boyfriend?!” Maya exclaims. Her partner shrugs in agreement. 

“I know that what Nate said was hella inappropriate, but he’s not wrong… that this is the most I’ve seen him relaxed in… maybe since we met him,” Liz adds in as your friends make their case. 

“He seems into you,” Patrick offers. 

“I-,” you start, knowing you don’t have much time before Carmy returns. “I don’t know. All I know is… I like what we have. And right now, we’re friends so.”

“God, you’re so good at it,” Maya sighs. 

“What?” you ask, looking from her to Liz as they exchange glances. 

The both turn to you, before saying in unison, “Compartmentalizing!” 

Patrick holds his hands up as he says, “I’m gonna stay out of this one.”

“You ready to go?” Carmy asks, rejoining you and your friends. 

You can practically feel Liz and Maya staring at you. 

“Yeah,” you reply to Carmy. 

You say your goodbyes before going your separate ways, and Maya swears when Carmy isn’t listening that you’re not done talking about this. It’s just been you and Carmy for so long that you hadn’t thought about what it might look like to other people. Now that things were slowly reopening… you were beginning to get more questions, and maybe, you were beginning to have more questions too. 

But the last time you’d tried to bring up any conversation about your relationship with Carmy, he’d shut it down and distracted you with the best carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. Not that you were complaining, definitely not, but you were hesitant to bring it up any time soon.  As Carmy looks at you, there’s something about the way you look against the backdrop of the city, the setting sun, and the sparkling lights, that catches him off guard. He’s not ready to part ways with you yet.

“Can I walk you home?” Carmy offers, hopefully. 

“Sure,” you nod.

read chapter three

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[jewish-vents]

I’m Jewish through my dad but I wasn’t raised in the community(i learned what Purim was two weeks ago, i was fully not in it), so when I got to college last august I decided to really dive in and it’s been a beautiful sort of homecoming for me. I joined SAEPi and got into Chabbad leadership at my campus, and I’m almost at the point where I can do the Chabbad Shabbat prayers before and after dinner without stumbling over my words. Gonna surprise my grandma if I see her in the summer. Anyways.

When October 7th happened it was a shock to my system, because I was a baby Jew barely getting my feet. My parents never mentioned antisemitism to me as something that could affect me in the future, it was always a thing of the past. But I was right there standing in the doorway between jew-ish and Jewish, and it pushed me over the edge. I had many friends with family in Israel. I had a couple friends whose friends died in the attack. Everyone in that group was my family. It felt personal.

When the march in dc happened I went with one of my friends, and it was sad, but amazing to see in person how strong we are. In the plane terminal on the way home he and I got cornered and called baby killers, among other things, because he was wearing a kippa and his Israeli first responder coat. That was my first time experiencing antisemitism and it was terrifying, even though I didn’t get hurt. It was terrifying even though my friend was built like a tank and would’ve protected me. It was terrifying just to sit in the train car with him and watch a woman stare at him with wide eyes like he was some kind of criminal. I stepped closer to him as if to remind her he’s human. I stared back at her with just as much fear and watched her snap out of it, confused.

Last week was holocaust awareness week at my college, and one of the things I did was spend a couple hours in the plaza reading the names of people that died. I found 34 Feldmans and Fotts. I found family names, Chana and Fayge and Jeshua and Sophia Feldman one after the other, and still am wondering if that was part of my family that didn’t make it to the US in time.

I called my grandma and asked for everything she could remember about her family lineage and how we got here, everything she had from that part of her life. I thought that there would be plenty to lean into, family recipes and heirlooms and stories, but there was barely anything. She has a Star of David necklace and a ton of repressed memories, next to nothing else. The recipes I could find were through my great aunt, some short instructions from my great grandmother on the back of a letter she sent to the aunt about what to ask for from a kosher butcher.

My family made it here in 1915 and 1921, they escaped before the holocaust, but they still weren’t untouched because of the ways they were ostracized and othered when they got here. My grandmother will barely admit she’s Jewish because none of her kids passed it on, it’s easier for her to let it go. I didn’t understand this until I realized that one couldn’t be hurt by the grief and pain of a family they aren’t part of.

Even those that survive are not left unscarred.

How could this not be personal? How could it not be generationally affective when it’s pushed so many to minimize their Jewishness out of self preservation? Raise their kids thinking they aren’t Jewish and hope their names never end up on a list of living or dead Jews? People still don’t see us as human. the antisemites still want to scar us. They want us to forget who we are.

It’s unreal to me when goyim act like American Jews in the current day are unaffected by the past and safe from antisemitism. I’ve been here less than a year and have been screamed at in an airport, have uncovered serious intergenerational trauma, and realized that of my Jewish family I have nothing to hold on to but a torn in half piece of paper with a sentence long tangent about brisket.

We are strong and we will outlive them, but god are we still fucking fighting for our lives.

.

[alwaysshallow]

gorgeous, part 4

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You decide to have some fun; you also talk to old friends. (3,3k)

READ ON AO3

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It's surprising how many times you see him, actually.

It's surprising because you thought – if you're lucky – it's gonna be after six months, on a check-up visit. Technically, he had no business to be here, especially considering how hidden he was, how he wasn't the type to chit-chat. It was okay, you didn't mind it.

And the day after he texted you, when you close clinic, you could see him right in front of the building, his hands in pockets, looking straight at you. It was a hypnotising experience though, especially when you walked in his direction, your knees like marshmellows, and he was still looking.

"Your mechanic was pretty nice." you said, tilting your head. "He said it's gonna be done in two weeks or less since he has work to do."

"Mhm." he matched your pace, walking with you side by side. "Finally doing something with it, aren't we?" he raised his eyebrow.

You laughed. "You make me look like I'm a bad car owner."

"Am I? Or that's just your thoughts?"

His comment made you open your mouth in pure disbelief at his honesty – you nudged him with before realizing how he could react at that gesture. He wasn't exactly a touchy-feely person, but there was no comment from him, so you were glad.

"Mean." you murmured, amused.

"'st speaking my mind, Addison."

"Uh-huh. That's why you're here? To speak your mind?"

He sighed, his eyes on the road in front of you. "You really like asking questions, don't you?"

"I like knowing things. Don't you?" you mimicked his low tone.

"I like knowing things. But I don't ask questions if I'm certain." he answered, straightening his back; a cracking sound that came out automatically made you shiver. "It's just walking you home. 's all, as I said, Sparkles would hate to have another vet."

"Right. Safety reasons, yeah?"

"Good girl. Learning so fast."

Motherfucker knew how to get to you – just after this comment, you had absolutely nothing to say, which made him visibly amused; his brow cocked, and he let out a low chuckle, looking away from you again. Thankful for the darkness, you just walked with him to start another topic after a while – about his cat, of course.

You had to leave 'good girl' behind, to not provoke him to say more because he could easily find out that nickname works for you perfectly. Especially if someone is British, especially if someone is just alluring as him.

And he had blonde hair. A bit curly. That's literally the recipe for a disaster.

After that interaction, he was walking you off to your apartment, day by day. It wasn't surprising after three first times – you just knew he's gonna be here, but you caught yourself looking for him, interested.

Not like you cared – at least that's what you told yourself – but it was curiosity speaking since you knew he was doing that just because of your car. Just because he somehow cared, just because he wanted to know you're safe.

Cute.

What was less cute though, you had to talk with Celia. You just had to and there was no excuse since your car already was in another mechanic's garage. And, Simon knew that you needed to talk with her, so he would ask about it eventually, so dodging the situation wasn't a plan, no. Not when he'd laugh the shit out of you, he did enough with implying you're not taking proper care of your car.

He had a point, though.

You took a few hours off in the morning, leaving Bernie on her own, just to see Celia – you even had your guilt cookies, big jar in your purse. It's not a surprise for anyone who knows you that you bake when stressed, and you certainly were stressed before this meeting. She could tell you anything; and it wouldn't be such a surprise if she'd tell you to go to hell.

A hope was there, though. Not only Simon said it, but when you thought it, it would be a real shame to ruin a friendship, running ten years, just because of a toxic guy that wasn't worth it. Not only that, your best friend had all the right to say I told you so.

You knew you kinda deserved that for being such a blind bitch.

Knock to her door came after a minute of staring dumbily at them, like it would help in something, or if she would magically open it without you knocking. It was a quiet knock though; shy one because, truthfully, you wanted to sprint from her house as far as possible. Confrontation? Not your best quality, no. Not at least in situation like these, when you know you have to apologize from the bottom of your heart.

A minute passed, and you knocked again, louder this time. You started considering walking away you thought maybe she wasn't home, but right after that, no one but Celia opened the door. Her eyebrows furrowed, arms were crossed against her chest, and you immediately knew what her attiude is.

Jesus Christ, it couldn't be easy, could it?

"Hi, Celia. Got a minute?" you asked; hesitantly. She could slam her door in your face, after all.

"Depends. You here because of the car?"

You sighed. "I'm here because I want to apologize, actually."

She seemed surprised as you said it; nonetheless, she let you in, leading you to kitchen. It was the main place of talks in her house, you could say that – not living room, not dining room, kitchen. Very big one, pretty, a table with two seats by side, so you sat there with her, clearing your throat. Wondering how to start.

How do you start conversation like that?

You had the simplest words on your mind. "I was a bitch." rolled off your tongue without even thinking. "I still am, though – but I was a bitch to you when I shouldn't have been. You wanted the best for me, and I just... well, I'm not proud of what I did. I should listen, not throw hands at you. It's not how it was supposed to be, it's not how I wanted it to be. Like, I know also that I should apologize way, way earlier, but-"

"Addie, c'mon." redhead interrupted you with a wave of her hand. "We're both bitches, we literally fought like fuckin' kids. Let me ask you one thing, you done?"

"With him?"

"Yeah, with that scumbag."

"Funny. You're the second person who talks of him this way" you mused, remembering this one situation with Simon. "Done, yeah. For five months right now."

Celia was silent for a moment, obviously analyzing the situation she found herself in; then, with a sigh, she looked again at you, her expression unreadable.

"Good to have your ass back on board, sister." she murmured, smiling a bit.

Next thing she did, was hitting your arm with such power that you let out a little 'ow', laughing with her in the same moment.

"Deserved." she pointed at you. "I apologize too, though. I could be better, I could just... well, tell you everything a bit differently. Not so harsh, you were in love with that prick." your friend muttered, rolling her eyes. "Okay, enough of apologies, though. Who said he's a douche, though? That person might be my second best friend."

So, you told her – almost everything, saving little details about his appearance or aura to yourself; Celia was a pretty fan of him, especially his snarkiness and comments. Yet, she was a bit jealous that you had the audacity to bring your car to other mechanic; mostly, she was jealous of the car, not you.

Her baby, as she liked to tell everyone. She picked it out for you from her uncle, repaired it, added some "cool shit" (it's a mystery what cool shit is, you didn't ask though).

Nonetheless, she was more than glad that you managed to find someone who's gonna help you with that, and you came to her purely to fix something between you two.

A friendship that – you promised yourself – would live through everything, no matter what would happen, no matter of circumstances. She was your person, just like Rosalie.

Who, speaking of, left million voice messages on your phone on your way back to clinic, so you considered it the perfect ocassion to listen to them all.

Apart from her excitement on your car situation, she invited you to her local bar for... a party. You didn't exactly know what party was about, or if it was just a casual hangout, but you agreed to go. It's been a while since you took a break from clinic and actually spent your night out, not under some blanket, watching movies with a bowl of chips or icecream.

Not like it was bad. Not at all. Sometimes you just needed a... change in your routine.

Rosalie promised to pick you up since your car was still at mechanic's – so, your only task was to look good, but not too good. Bar was something else than club; more casual, but you really wanted to at least flirt a little or to catch an eye on someone, even if your mind was... pretty occupied with certain someone.

Maybe your best friend would bring someone worth your time, yeah? She usually had some ideas and wanted to play as your little matchmaker, so you never knew what was coming.

That being said, you opened your closet.

It was almost embarrasing how many clothes you had that you didn't even wear more than one time; mostly, cocktail dresses for fancy ocassions since your parents insisted on buying something new. People of business, someone would say – always having a whim about their galas and shit like this, it was hard not to hate it, considering that business comes before family, mostly.

Maybe that's why you limited contacts with them, sending them a text or two of what you're doing, how's the clinic going. And, of course, Christmas with them or Thanksgiving was a must if they weren't on some fancy vacations abroad.

With a thought in your mind that you have to go through those dressed, you decided to pick something simple to bar. Black tank-top, a simple baby blue shirt on it (unbuttoned, of course) and a pair of simple jeans worked in your mind, as well as in reality, so you found yourself quickly putting on a pair of sneakers.

Your make up took a little longer; you paid attention to your skin, the perfect eyeliner, a delicate lipgloss bringing out the shape of your lips. Everything had to look effortless, even if it wasn't; your motto, basically.

As promised, Rosalie picked you up; and you've talked with her the whole road, almost two hours to be exact. You haven't seen her for two months straight and even if you were updating her as much as you could in a day, it wasn't even close to your sincere talks. She asked a whole palette of questions; how's your car, how's that Simon who rescued you from jerky ex; she looked a bit amused when topic was on him, but you had no idea why.

"Man that has good ideas is rare" she summed up, chuckling, when you catched her up with Celia situation and told her your car is going to be fine, you just have to pick it up in the next week. "Don't tell him that by any means. His ego wouldn't take it."

"Oh, you have no idea."

Soon enough, you arrived. Bar was cute; not too large, but with big-ass bar table and glass shelves behind it with amount of alcohol that you couldn't count, even if you wanted to. Dim, orange lights just added to the view, and you smiled under your nose instincitvely, happy that you've decided to go there.

Tables weren't occupied as you thought they would be; Rosalie mentioned earlier it's gonna be a private party, but you didn't think that private, considering that you could count like... maybe ten, eleven people. Military men with their significant others, as you saw when you walked up to the barman, ordering a drink for you and your best friend.

You couldn't obviously ignore that someone was discussing with MacTavish near you; seemed like a heated discussion, until they looked right at you.

Guy with a skull mask. Full-ass skull mask like Simon had this one day when you two...

Fuck, could it be him? Maybe he was in unit that wore masks like these, you thought. It would be a strange coincidence, wouldn't it? And, Rosalie for sure would tell you that her comrade is the guy you are talking about sometimes since he adopted a cat, Sparkles, yeah?

Rosa had her significant smirk when she looked at you, and it was all you needed to know, especially when men approached you both.

Trouble in a person, that would be on your best friend.

"He gets a bit shy around strangers. Ain't your fault" Johnny joked, nudging you with his shit-eating grin, as he gave his friend a look.

"Mm, I bet. Good to see you, MacTavish." you murmured, which made "stranger" roll his eyes and grumble something under his nose. "And what's your friends name?" you raised an eyebrow, making eye-contact with those brown eyes you wouldn't forget ever.

"His name-"

"-you know my name, doc." Simon said, interrupting Soap. He took off his mask with one, swift movement, to reveal to you his scarred face and disheveled, blonde hair that you wanted to dip your fingers in so desperately.

To say that Johnny was shocked, was the understatement; he looked at his comrade in shock, opening and closing his lips, like he wasn't exactly sure what to say, considering that he took off his scary mask.

"Didn't know you have friends in military."

"Apparently, we're both full of surprises" you sipped a bit of your margharita, shrugging, like you two meeting here was the most normal situation that could happen.

"You two know each other, no?" Soap meddled in conversation, observing you two. It was obvious that he doesn't really know how you two could met, and honestly, no one could blame him. He was in military, barely going out, and you were a simple vet.

You nodded. "We met, yeah."

"Oh, I'd really want to hear it."

"Simple help. Nothin' too fancy, MacTavish" he pointed out, taking a sip of his alcohol.

Soap's look was piercing in you, though. "Helped him with a cat. Simple, like he said." "Fuckin' cat? Ghost is a cat mom now, eh?" he chuckled, which made Simon roll his eyes.

You wondered if Ghost was something they named them in the field, and if yes, why? After all, everything always was supposed to fit. As Rosalie said to you, even if she couldn't tell you everything (classified, of course) every nickname had a meaning behind it.

Ghost... seemed ambigious. You couldn't put it anywhere.

"Better than you'd be, John. Let's drink, shall we?" you raised your eyebrow, trying to lead the conversation elsewhere; looked like your companion thought the same way.

Rosalie introduced you to rest of the team – they all told you their names, but you were sure as hell that you're not gonna remember that, considering your memory was shit, especially to people that you don't see often. Either way, they were nice; very nice, after a few drinks with them you were pretty sure that your platonic soulmate is Kyle Garrick, who was the best partner in karaoke. And, he was also such a gossiper, finding every ocassion that he could to talk to you about something.

Not military related, though; only "things for civilians" as he giggled to you after fifth shot of tequila, telling you something about a girl that he had eye on. Curiosity piqued in the moment he confessed that she was 'out of reach' for him, and it was no chance that he could get together with her.

Hell, for you "no chance" before even trying was non-existent. You loved to prove people wrong, to make them watch you accomplishing various of things just to rile them up, or to reach your goal.

"Don't say that" you pointed at him. "There's always a chance for something. You won't try, you won't know. That's it."

"It's the same chance, as the chance that Ghost will get any of us to that fancy gala. Non-existent." he groaned, burying dramatically his head in his hands. "And like his driving skills."

"Garrick" he murmured; low, rumbling voice made sergeant straighten a little. "'s enough talkin' of it, yes?"

You chuckled. "What gala? And what, your driving skills are that bad?"

"I have rather..." Simon played with glass filled with alcohol "...complicated relationship with cars, I'd say. I prefer walking."

You raised your eyebrow a little, amused; what does it mean his relationship with cars is complicated? You couldn't help but think, as you nodded your head with faked understanding. It was hard to believe that his ass in military didn't have a driving license, so it only meant that his ability to drive was...

Different, maybe. And for his own safety, as well as yours and anyone on the road, he picked out walking instead of driving. Smart, though.

"That's why you've walked me home."

"Affirmative."

"Walked you home?" Kyle looked at both of you in shock, laughing to himself. "Oh, fuck, man. So many things are happening on leave, ain't it?"

"Gaz." Price shot him a look.

"I can't even-"

"Gaz."

"Fuck, okay" he rolled his eyes, shaking his head to himself. "Just so you know, if Johnny wouldn't be so caught up in Ros, he'd back me up."

Your gaze automatically went to Rosalie, who talked with her bartender friend. Johnny, right next to you, was looking at her with slightly darker eyes, leaning his head against palm of his hand. It was... a view, honestly; friends, but not admitting to something more, even if everyone else saw their bond is beyond simple "best friends".

Something that you considered as cute.

You couldn't help but wish that they will be together soon enough; the way they cared for each other... Hell, probably everyone wanted something like this for themselves, as well as you; something so pure with longing glances that would make you weak in your knees.

A sigh of annoyance came out of you – where the hell you were supposed to find something like this when you spent most of the days in the clinic? Tinder or any portal like this wasn't even an option.

Mostly because you met your crazy ass ex here, but also you wanted to... hell, get past that online dating stage.

Was it too much to ask?

"Another round?" Kyle's voice brought you back to earth; you nodded immediately, standing up from your seat. "Captain, Ghost, you comin'?"

"Mm, no. 'm gonna make a call." Price shook his head. "You go. Another one will be on me."

You looked at Simon.

"I'll pass too." he murmured, coughing. "

"Oh, come on! You have to do one shot with me. Please."

"Addison-"

"Please?" you pleaded, extending an arm to him, so he could grab his hand. "Just one."

Simon sighed. "You're not gonna let it go, eh?"

"No, not really. I owe you for that mechanic, don't I?" you tilted your head, smiling a bit. "Come on. Please. Just one shot. Or one drink, anything, really."

He didn't say anything; just followed you to the bar with boys, while you babbled about your work, when Gaz asked what does exactly vet do, besides controls and all.

And it felt really good to feel Simon's eyes on you the whole time. How he keeps his rich, brown eyes at you, while you tried desperately to keep yourself together, just in case - because after alcohol, you were the touchy-feely version of yourself.

He had some time to learn it.

[thursdaygxrls]

Seeing It Out (‘Seeing Her’ Part Two)

summary — george weasley might (maybe) have a small crush. too bad she’s totally oblivious.

paring — george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer — i don’t own harry potter property, i don’t own this gif, and i don’t edit because i’m lazy. also, argyle & dicken’s isn’t real, i made it up.

warnings — everyone is stupid. maybe ooc.

read part one here!

She noticed him staring at her in potions. Well, she never proved it was her he was looking at, but she had a suspicion. Every time she would look up to transcribe the notes or recipes Snape described, she could see a mass of tangerine hair fly forward just a few desks ahead of her. She didn’t think anything of it at first. Why would she? But then she noticed him staring at her out of the corner of her eye before class one day. That look alone made her realize two things:

1. The looks she thought she may have been receiving were no coincidence and

2. The one staring was George Weasley

“I’m scared. Seriously, he’s planning something,” she confided as she and her friend, Meredith, began to stroll from dinner to their dorm, “He’s been watching me for a few weeks now. Something is going on.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Meredith giggled.

“I’m serious! When the Weasley twins set their sights on you, you’re dead in the water,” she guffawed.

“Or…” Meredith trailed off with a smile.

“Or?” She turned to her with an inquisitive look.

“Perhaps you tickled his fancy.” Meredith shimmied her shoulders suggestively.

“I tickled who and what?” Her eyes widened as she felt a laugh bubble at the back of her throat.

“I’m saying that maybe he keeps staring because he fancies you,” Meredith explained.

“George Weasley?” Her eyes crinkled as her grin widened slightly, “You’re mad.”

“Not mad, intuitive,” Meredith tapped her head, “You’re cute! You’re smart! Everyone in this bloody school ought to be head over heals for you!” She shook her almost comedically.

“Alright!” She laughed, “I get it! I’m fabulous!”

“Good,��� Meredith said with a large smile, “Now, think about talking to him.”

“We haven’t disposed of the ‘the twins are going to put fireworks in my pillowcase’ theory,” she shook her head.

“I’ve disposed of it. It’s gone.” Meredith pretended to throw something before wiping her hands together, “But seriously, talk to him if you’re interested, y’know? He’s not too bad on the eyes – and I doubt he’s all too evil.”

“I guess I’ll think about it,” she shrugged, “How’s Emma going?”

“It’s – shit, I left it in the Great Hall,” Meredith groaned, “Wait here for me, alright?”

“I’ll wait an eternity for you!” She called after the girl.

“Put those moves on someone else, would you?” Meredith winked before disappearing down the hall.

George Weasley. He was popular, maybe not as much as his twin brother, but he was one-half of the dynamic pranking duo. She’d seen them before; they watched people, and so did she. They always observed their prey before attacking — but their targets were never just innocent bystanders. She’d like to think she was innocent. She’d like to think a lot of things, though, and not all of them were true.

Meredith was taking a while. Was she right? Was he interested in her? The thought seemed silly, foreign. It was like a honey bee finding a hidden daisy in a room full of tulips. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought. It was a nice thought. A flash of orange alerted her to the balcony in front of her. Funnily enough, standing at the edge, staring out to the floor below them, were the Weasley twins – and George was staring at her.

It was curious. This was the first time they’d ever connected eyes, yet it felt entirely natural. Maybe it was because she’d stared a thousand people in the eyes, or maybe this was different. She looked at him, and he looked at her, and for a moment, time was able to exist on a different plane entirely. God, was it cheesy. She’d read about this before; the lovers’ first meeting. Wait, lovers? They aren’t lovers, they don’t even know each other, besides – oh God. In a flash, something fell from George’s hand, flying down from the balcony and directly onto poor Professor Flitwick’s head. The thing burst ceremoniously and a powder fizzled around the man. He batted at himself in confusion as she looked on at him with horror. His hair was entirely green.

What the bloody hell was that?

She clutched her copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray — the copy that had just been knocked from her hands — in her sweaty palms. Today had been going great, spectacular even. Her dreams had wiped any memory of possible crushes from her mind. She woke up early, found a matching pair of socks on her first try, and was ready to pick up a new book. Meredith had shoed her out of the dorms when she attempted to wake the girl; she preferred sleep over food. So, it was just her and Dorian who’d made it out to the stairs when she was pushed (nudged?) to the ground.

By George Weasley, of course.

She’d wondered if this was a part of his scheme for a moment. It would be the perfect time to catch her off guard — bright and early before she’d even wiped the crust from her eyes. But then she saw his face and the shock that drew over his features. He certainly didn’t mean to bump into her. At least, it didn’t seem like it.

They conversed in an awkward manner, but managed to hit one another only once more. The real issue was the end of the conversation:

“See you in potions, George!”

It was meant to be friendly, a sort of peace offering if he was still trying to pull off something dodgy. And, of course, it was friendly enough until she realized she had never talked to him before. She sounded like a stalker. A bad stalker at that. She let her mind race as she rushed off to the Great Hall, hoping to not see the boy again before she got there.

It was a dragging, near exhausting wait until potions. Her nerves were so shot that, even if she calmed down, they would still leave a searing imprint under the surface of her skin. By lunch, she’d decided to try to calm herself. Surely he’d forget before then. Surely it would all resolve itself. Surely, she thought to herself as she pushed into the potions’ lab, there was–

He was sitting in her chair.

Meredith was late, unable to save her, and George was sitting at her table.

Her first move was to take cautious steps toward her destination. She knew well enough that this confrontation was unavoidable (or maybe she’d just built it up in her mind too much). She would just grit her teeth and bear it, though, because the only other alternative was to flee Hogwarts entirely.

“Hey!” He’d seen her, and she froze. She was only a step or two away from her seat, of course he saw her.

“Hi,” she responded with less grandeur. He stood in front of her, slicking his hands against his slacks as he smiled.

“Sorry about this morning,” his grin damn near sparkled, “I only do that sort of thing on the field usually.”

“Right,” she nodded. He was standing right in front of her seat, trapping it with his lanky body.

“Yeah,” his confidence stuttered momentarily, “Uh, your book. How is it?”

“Dorian Gray?” She questioned, receiving a nod, “Oh, it’s alright. A couple blokes doing a lot of talking.”

“Any puke?” George cocked his head.

“There’s blood,” she replied.

“Fluid is fluid,” he shrugged. There was another hesitation before he spoke again:

“I noticed you read a lot – muggle books, I mean. It’s interesting,” he stuck his hands in his pockets, “I was thinking about picking up a muggle book, but I don’t know where to start.”

So this was it. Weeks of stares and stilted interactions because of her obsession. She let out an audible sigh of relief. Any ounce of fear or tension drained from her body, and in its place, a peace rooted itself. Apparently, all it took to crack her shell was the mention of books.

“Oh, sure!” She spoke, her lips curling into a smile, “If you tell me what you fancy in a story I could find something you’d enjoy.”

“That’d be great,” he grinned, “Maybe I could tell you this weekend at Hogsmeade?”

“Hogsmeade?” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah,” he perked up suddenly, “There’s that muggle book shop near the outside of town — Argyle and Dicken’s? You could help me find something. Maybe we can go for butterbear after?”

There was nothing Jane Austen could have done to prepare her for an offer like this. No romance novel she’d ever read could help her. She couldn’t reply with something witty, or cute, or sultry. She couldn’t wink or do something flirtatious. All she was capable of doing was giving him a near-dumbfounded look whilst attempting to close her partially agape mouth. George Weasley wanted a little more than just a recommendation.

“She’d love to.” A feminine voice spoke from behind her. Meredith, somewhat winded and somewhat late, swooped in beside her to press a metaphorical hand to her jaw.

“Love to,” she repeated, though a little less confident. George seemed to appreciate the answer anyways, giving a quick nod of greeting to Meredith before smiling back at the other girl.

“Outside the castle at noon this Sunday work?”

“It, yeah, yes, it would work.” She nodded vigorously.

“Wicked,” he chuckled lightly, “It’s a da–“

“Get to your seats.” Professor Snape’s deep voice commanded. She, as well as Meredith, wasted no time shuffling past the boy to their chairs. George moved, though, only after he hesitated a moment. The potions lesson began unceremoniously, and she couldn’t help but look over to Meredith as Snape’s monotonous voice consumed the classroom.

“What was that?” She asked, eyes still wide.

"That was you getting yourself a date." Meredith whispered her reply happily.

A date. With George Weasley – the same George Weasley she had thought to be plotting against her, or at least hoping for her downfall. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile as the lesson went on.

A date.

With George Weasley.

hey guys, quick little note: i’m going to be starting a tag list so it’s easier to let people know when i post. if you’re interested in joining, comment a 🐝 on this post so i know who to add. alright, love u guys, toodles!