#(I say ‘obviously’ as in the way he writes her in his own words… I’m not saying anything about her feelings about it) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

santaasi · 12 days ago

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obviously blind

pairing: james potter x bsf!fem!reader

summary: for years, james potter thought he was chasing love. sirius black knew better — he’d been holding it all along.

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love, james calls reader love, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 11.3k

a/n: it was probably the longest idea to write and edit. i rewrote every moment a bunch of times trying to bring it all to perfection. therefore, this time I hope more than ever that you will like it and you will support me with a like, comment or reblog. have a nice time reading this work! love u <3

ᯓ★ now playing…

slaves – footprints

You left your mark on me like footprints in the snow

Would you promise me you'll never let me go

November 15, 1971 My dear best friend, Hogwarts is brilliant! You should see the castle; it’s massive, with these moving staircases that sometimes take you to places you didn’t even mean to go! I tried to get to Charms class last week and ended up in the Trophy Room instead. Sirius says it’s part of the fun, and I’m starting to agree. Speaking of fun, I made a new friend! His name’s Sirius Black, and he’s a bit of a troublemaker like me. Don’t tell Mum, but we might’ve let some Filibuster’s Fireworks off in the Great Hall during lunch. The teachers were furious, but the look on their faces was worth it. How’s Beauxbatons? Is it true your castle is magical in a totally different way? Sirius said something about unicorns roaming the grounds. Is that real? Write me everything—I want to know what it’s like over there. Hope you’re having as much fun as I am. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK WAS UTTERLY SPENT. Not the charming, rakish kind of spent he might brag about after a late night of mischief, but truly, completely, soul-drainingly done. The journey to the Potter family cottage, which should have been a brisk jaunt, had turned into a Herculean trial. Blame the snowstorm that had swept through magical London like some vengeful Norse curse, burying everything in its path under heaps of frosty misery.

It started with a delayed train — no, not delayed, imprisoned. Sirius and James were already aboard when the announcement came, trapping them in a stuffy carriage surrounded by loudly complaining wizards and at least one crying baby. And because the universe clearly found Sirius’ misery entertaining, the train came to a jolting halt halfway to their destination, snow packing the tracks so thickly that it took hours of magical clearing before they moved again.

When they finally arrived at the station, they discovered that Mr. Potter, their much-needed savior with a warm car and a better attitude than either of them, had been delayed at work. Thus, Sirius and James were left to trudge through the snow-laden countryside, dragging their trunks behind them, with James’ endless chatter about Lily Evans ringing in Sirius’ ears like a persistent curse.

“Her smile, Padfoot,” James had sighed dreamily at least seventeen times, his glasses fogging up as if even thinking about Lily caused them to malfunction. “And the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s concentrating—”

By the sixteenth sigh, Sirius had been sorely tempted to shove a fistful of snow into James’ face. By the seventeenth, he was mentally composing a list of Unforgivable Curses and ranking them by efficiency. Yet, even as he grumbled under his breath, Sirius couldn’t bring himself to abandon the trek. The Potters were the closest thing he had to a family, and spending Christmas anywhere else — no matter how dire the journey — was unthinkable.

When they finally reached the Potter home, Sirius didn’t so much step inside as collapse into it. He shoved the front door open with the dramatic flair of a man escaping death itself and sprawled across the polished wooden floor like a martyr for his own cause. His trunk fell beside him with a satisfying thud.

“Home at last,” he groaned, voice muffled against the rug. “Tell me, Prongs, do they serve last rites before cinnamon rolls, or do we skip straight to the feast?”

The cottage, of course, was as warm and welcoming as Sirius remembered. Strings of fairy lights twinkled across the beams, casting a cozy glow of red, gold, and green. A holly wreath hung crookedly on the wall — lil’James’ handiwork, no doubt — and the scent of pine mingled with the tantalizing aroma of cinnamon, butter, and something sweet. Sirius’ stomach growled audibly.

“Oi, shut it, you ungrateful mutt,” James shot back with a grin, though Sirius could see his friend’s eyes darting toward the kitchen. “You’re embarrassing us in front of the wreath.”

James hadn’t even set his trunk down before a figure appeared in the doorway.

At first, Sirius barely registered her presence. He was too busy muttering about the injustice of underage magic restrictions. But then — oh, then — she stepped fully into view.

A girl.

Not just any girl, but you.

You moved with a kind of quiet confidence that Sirius instantly clocked, your steps unhurried, your presence undeniable. The golden glow of the fairy lights danced across your hair, giving it a shimmer that seemed almost unreal. You were wrapped in a deep blue jumper — Sirius realized this after a moment’s brain lag — and your cheeks were rosy, likely from the heat of the kitchen.

You carried a tray of steaming cinnamon rolls, the scent of melted sugar and spice trailing after you like some kind of domestic enchantment. Sirius’ mouth went dry, and for the first time in years, he was at a loss for words.

“Well,” he managed after a beat, hauling himself upright and trying for a semblance of decorum. “Now I see why you were so keen to come home, Prongs. You’ve got cinnamon-roll-bearing angels dropping out of the sky.”

You laughed, soft and melodic, the sound so unguarded it seemed to wrap the room in warmth. Sirius couldn’t help but notice the way your lips curled into a smile that was equal parts inviting and mysterious.

“Hello to you too, Sirius,” you said, your voice carrying a familiarity that made his ears perk up.

Sirius blinked. Wait. Of course. This wasn’t some celestial being summoned to his rescue; this was James’ childhood best friend. The one James had vaguely mentioned — just a handful of times over the years, always in passing and with a strange softness that Sirius hadn’t thought to question before.

And yet, here you were. In the flesh. Standing in the middle of the Potters’ living room with a tray of baked goods and a smile that Sirius suspected had the power to stop traffic.

“Well, well, Jamie-boy,” Sirius drawled, nudging James with his elbow and watching his friend with amused curiosity. “You never told me the famous cinnamon-roll angel was also — what’s the word? Ah, yes — real.”

You raised an eyebrow at Sirius’ antics, though your smile didn’t falter. Instead, you glanced toward James, who looked like he’d been hit with a Confundus Charm.

Sirius smirked. “James, mate, you alright? You’ve gone all... slack-jawed.”

But James wasn’t paying him any attention. His hazel eyes were locked on you, wide and brimming with something Sirius couldn’t quite place. He watched as James' gaze traced over the streak of flour smudged on your cheek, the stray strands of hair escaping from your ponytail, and the red apron dusted with flour and cinnamon.

Sirius almost snorted aloud. This was the James Potter who couldn’t shut up about Lily Evans — the boy who spent half his waking hours plotting ways to win her over. And yet, here he was, staring at you like you’d just descended from the heavens.

“Jamie,” you said softly, setting the tray down on the nearby table.

It was just one word, but the way you said it — warm, tender, and utterly unguarded — sent a jolt through Sirius.

Before he could process what was happening, James crossed the room in a few long strides and swept you into his arms. You squealed in surprise, and the sound was pure delight, echoing off the walls.

Sirius blinked, startled. The way James held you — hands firm on your waist, his head dipping into the crook of your neck — wasn’t friendly, not by a long shot. Sirius had known James since he was eleven years old, had seen him charm and flirt with half of Hogwarts, but he had never seen this.

“Missed me, Jamie?” you teased, your fingers slipping into his unruly hair with the kind of ease that spoke of years of familiarity.

“Always,” James murmured, so quietly Sirius barely caught it.

“Bloody hell,” Sirius muttered under his breath.

He glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to explain this baffling scene, but it was just him, James, and you, wrapped up in some intimate little bubble that made Sirius feel like an intruder.

James murmured something into your shoulder — too soft for Sirius to catch — and you laughed, your voice light and unrestrained. The sound pulled James’ head up, and Sirius couldn’t miss the way his eyes traced your face with a kind of devotion Sirius had only read about in sappy romance novels.

It was then that the memories began to click into place. The scattered mentions over the years, the odd tone James always took when he talked about you. “She’s not like anyone else, Padfoot. She just gets it.” Or that one summer when James had come back to Hogwarts looking utterly miserable and wouldn’t explain why. Sirius had teased him about it for weeks, thinking it was Lily-related. But now, seeing the way James looked at you...

“Wait a minute,” Sirius blurted, his grin widening as realization dawned. “You’re the one. The one he’s always sneaking off to write letters to, the one he’s all secretive about.”

James shot him a glare, his cheeks burning bright red.

“Padfoot—”

“—the one who sent him that hideous scarf last Christmas!” Sirius continued, thoroughly enjoying himself now. “I knew there had to be someone. Prongs doesn’t just get that moony-eyed look over just anyone.”

You laughed again, covering your face with your hands, while James muttered something about strangling Sirius later.

Before Sirius could needle him further, the kitchen door creaked open, and Euphemia Potter swept into the room. She was radiant as always, her cheeks rosy from the cold, her dark hair streaked with silver. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw James.

“There’s my boy!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug before he could even attempt to protest.

“Hi, Mum,” James mumbled, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

Euphemia pulled back, cupping his face in her hands as though memorizing every detail. “It’s been too long, Jamie. Too long. You’re far too skinny — have you been eating properly at school? And what have you done with your hair?”

James groaned, though his smile was fond.

Then her eyes fell on Sirius, and the warmth in her expression grew tenfold.

“Sirius, my dear,” she said, moving toward him with open arms. “I’m so glad you’re home, too.”

Sirius froze for a moment, caught off guard. He wasn’t used to this — the genuine affection, the way Euphemia made him feel like he belonged.

When her arms wrapped around him, the embrace firm and filled with love, Sirius felt an odd lump form in his throat. He couldn’t help but think of his own mother’s cold, perfunctory hugs, her disdainful gaze, and the way her affection always felt like a transaction.

“You’ve grown even handsomer,” Euphemia said, pulling back to study him. “Fleamont’s going to be jealous.”

Sirius managed a crooked grin, the lump in his throat still stubbornly there. “That’s the goal, Mrs. Potter. Keep him on his toes.”

Euphemia laughed, her eyes twinkling, before cupping his cheek briefly. “You’re family now, Sirius. Never forget that.”

Satisfied, Euphemia turned her attention to you. Her face softened even more, and she reached out to squeeze your hands. “Oh, there you are, dear. I was wondering where my helper had gone. The mince pies won’t bake themselves, you know”

You shot James a quick, playful glance before following Euphemia toward the door. “I’ll be back in a bit,” you said, your smile lingering.

As Mrs. Potter ushered you toward the door to finish the pies, Sirius remained rooted to the spot. The warmth from her hug lingered, and for a fleeting moment, he thought of how lucky James was to have parents like that — and how lucky he was to have stumbled into their lives.

James watched you leave, his gaze following you until you were out of sight. Sirius couldn’t help but laugh.

“Mate,” he said, clapping James on the shoulder. “You’re a goner.”

James huffed, shoving him away, but the goofy grin on his face was impossible to hide.

And Sirius? Sirius couldn’t wait to see how this played out.

July 2, 1973 My Love, Summer’s only just started, and I can’t wait to see you. Mum’s already planning another one of her “legendary” tea parties, which means she’ll fuss over you endlessly. You’ll smile politely and charm her like always, and she’ll end up spoiling you with biscuits to take back to Beauxbatons. I’ve got so much to tell you. Sirius and I found this secret passageway that leads straight to Hogsmeade. We’ve been practicing spells to make it even harder for Filch to find us. Remus is shaking his head, but I think he secretly loves our schemes. Oh, and Lily—she’s still brilliant. She’s got the most incredible laugh. But you, my love, I bet your laugh would still outshine hers any day.

Do you still walk in those Beauxbatons gardens at sunset? I can imagine you there, glowing in the soft light. It suits you. Write me back quickly, won’t you? The days are always better when I hear from you. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK HAD ALWAYS KNOWN JAMES POTTER WAS A TACTILE PERSON. James spoke fluently in the language of touch — claps on the back that lingered just a second too long, overly enthusiastic shoulder bumps that almost knocked you off your feet, and the occasional arm slung around your shoulders like he was staking a claim. But this? This was something else entirely.

It wasn’t just the way James touched you. It was the way he seemed to orbit you, like some lovesick moon drawn to its planet. Wherever you were, James was never far behind — hovering, grinning, completely and utterly besotted without even realizing it. And for someone so allegedly brilliant, he was astoundingly stupid about it.

Sirius noticed it within minutes of their arrival at the Potter cottage for the holidays. As the snow settled outside, so did James — right beside you, always beside you. If you were arranging the flowers Euphemia had insisted on, James was there offering suggestions like he’d suddenly become an expert on floral arrangements. If you were curled up in the drawing room with a book, James was sprawled across the nearest sofa, pretending to read but actually just watching you out of the corner of his eye like some hopeless romantic idiot in a badly written Muggle novel.

Sirius had been rolling his eyes so much, they were practically stuck in the back of his head.

THE SECOND MORNING WAS WHEN THINGS REALLY CLICKED. Sirius had woken up earlier than usual — a rare and uncomfortable event for him. He had no plans to do anything productive, of course, but the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway intrigued him. Padding out of his room, he peeked around the corner just in time to see James sneaking toward the kitchen.

Naturally, Sirius followed. He found James standing at the counter, sleeves rolled up like some kind of domestic god, arranging breakfast with the precision of someone preparing an offering to Merlin himself. There was a plate of toast with cream cheese and thinly sliced avocado, a bowl of berries that looked like they’d been picked by woodland elves, and a steaming cup of coffee. The smell alone was enough to make Sirius reconsider his usual disdain for mornings.

“Fancy,” Sirius said, leaning lazily against the doorframe, voice still scratchy from sleep.

James jumped slightly but recovered quickly, flashing Sirius a sheepish grin. “Morning, Pads. Coffee’s on the counter.”

Sirius eyed the tray suspiciously. “Is this for you, or is it for your favorite person in the world aka me?”

James’s ears turned pink. “It’s for her,” he admitted, almost bashfully, like he hadn’t just spent ten minutes crafting the most meticulous breakfast Sirius had ever seen.

“Of course it is,” Sirius muttered with a smirk, grabbing a mug for himself. “You realize this is bordering on embarrassing, yeah?”

James shot him a look, but before he could respond, you appeared in the doorway, still looking half-asleep. Your hair was mussed, and the oversized jumper you’d borrowed from James was slipping off one shoulder, but you somehow managed to look effortlessly radiant. Sirius rolled his eyes again.

“Morning, love,” James said, his voice soft and warm in a way Sirius had never heard before.

“Morning, Jamie,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep as you shuffled into the kitchen.

James practically tripped over himself to hand you the coffee. Sirius watched, amused, as James’s fingers brushed yours in the exchange, his entire face lighting up like someone had cast Lumos Maxima directly on it.

You took a long sip of the coffee, humming in contentment. “Perfect, as always,” you murmured, looking up at James with a sleepy smile that could have melted a Dementor.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Sirius nearly choked on his coffee. He wasn’t sure what was more painful — the nauseating sweetness of the moment or the fact that neither of you seemed to realize how completely ridiculous you were.

“Right, well, I’ll just... leave you two to it,” Sirius said, waving his mug in mock surrender as he backed out of the room. “Try not to get married while I’m gone.”

“Shut up, Sirius,” James called after him, but the way his voice wavered slightly betrayed his embarrassment.

By the time Sirius reached the living room, Euphemia and Fleamont were already seated by the fireplace, exchanging knowing glances like they’d seen this coming a mile away.

“Is he making her breakfast again?” Euphemia asked with a smile that was far too pleased for Sirius’s liking.

“Every detail,” Sirius confirmed, sinking into an armchair. “I’m starting to think he’s auditioning for Witch Weekly’s ‘Most Devoted Boyfriend’ feature.”

“Don’t tease him too much,” Euphemia said with a chuckle. “He’s just like his father was with me.”

“Merlin, it’s contagious,” Sirius groaned, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. “If I start acting like that, someone put me out of my misery.”

But even as he joked, Sirius couldn’t help but smile. Because for all his teasing, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that James was hopelessly gone for you. And judging by the way you looked at him, Sirius had a feeling the feeling was mutual — even if neither of you was bright enough to figure it out.

AND THEN THERE WERE THE SMALL, INTIMATE TOUCHES SIRIUS COULDN’T IGNORE, no matter how much he wanted to. James’s hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you through a doorway, like you might somehow lose your way without him. The way his fingers traced lazy patterns on your knee under the dinner table, as though the contact grounded him. Or how he’d tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just long enough to make Sirius roll his eyes and fight back a gag.

It was maddening to watch, really. Not because Sirius minded the affection — no, James deserved a bit of softness in his life, and you were undeniably good for him. It was maddening because you were both so oblivious. James was a goner, sure, but you weren’t far behind. Every time you leaned into his touch, smiled up at him like he hung the stars, or called him Jamie in that soft, teasing tone, it was like watching two wizards tiptoe around a cauldron, waiting for it to explode.

One evening, as the three of you lounged in the living room, the dynamic was on full display. The Potters had insisted on a family movie night — Euphemia’s idea, of course, because family time was important. Sirius couldn’t say no to the fire roaring in the hearth, the massive bowl of popcorn, and the ridiculous Muggle Christmas film flickering on the screen. But as the minutes passed, he started to regret not escaping upstairs.

James had situated himself squarely in the middle of the sofa, with you tucked neatly under his arm. His hand played absently with the ends of your hair, fingers twisting the strands like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. You had your legs curled beneath you, leaning into him with the kind of comfort Sirius had only ever seen in old couples who had been together for decades. James pressed a kiss to your temple, murmuring something Sirius couldn’t quite catch.

It was unbearable.

“Oi, lovebirds,” Sirius interrupted, launching a piece of popcorn at James. It hit him square in the forehead, a small but satisfying victory. “Some of us are trying to watch the movie without choking on all this sap.”

You burst into laughter, sitting up just enough to toss a handful of popcorn back at him. “You’re just jealous, Black.”

“Jealous? Me?” Sirius placed a hand over his chest, mock-offended. “Of what, exactly? Watching James Potter transform into a human puddle before my very eyes? No thanks. I’ll pass.”

James didn’t even flinch. He just grinned, looking every bit the lovesick fool he was. “You’ll get it one day, Pads,” he said with infuriating calm.

Sirius snorted, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing it into his mouth. “Right. Because what I’m really missing in my life is the chance to turn into that.” He gestured at the two of you with a dramatic wave of his hand.

But despite his teasing, Sirius couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading in his chest as he watched the scene unfold. James, the arrogant, Quidditch-obsessed, devil-may-care prankster he’d known all his life, was utterly, completely, hopelessly in love. And the worst — or perhaps best — part? He didn’t even seem to realize it.

BY THE END OF THESE COUPLE OF DAYS VACK AT THE POTTER COTTAGE, SIRIUS KNEW. James Potter wasn’t in love with Lily Evans — not really, not anymore and maybe not ever. He was in love with you. It wasn’t in the dramatic declarations Sirius had once teased James about making to Lily. No, this was quieter, deeper. It was in the way James’s gaze softened whenever you spoke, like he couldn’t believe you were real. In the way his hand always seemed to find yours, even when there was no need for it. And in the way his entire being lit up when you smiled at him.

And you? You weren’t much better. You laughed at his terrible jokes, poked fun at him with an ease Sirius envied, and looked at James like he was the center of the universe. It was so obvious it made Sirius want to scream.

“This isn’t normal, you know,” Sirius said later that night, cornering James in the kitchen as he made tea.

“What’s not normal?” James asked, far too casually for Sirius’s liking.

“You and her. You’re not just friends. Stop pretending you are.”

James frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “We are just friends. She’s my best mate, Pads. You know that.”

Sirius laughed, loud and sharp, shaking his head. “Oh, Prongsie. You’re an idiot.”

“Am not,” James shot back, but there was a flicker of doubt in his voice.

Sirius leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “If you’re just friends, then I’m a unicorn. Face it, Potter — you’re in love.”

James opened his mouth, probably to argue, but then you walked into the room, yawning and looking for all the world like you belonged there. James’s expression softened immediately, his gaze lingering on you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Sirius didn’t say another word. He didn’t need to.

Because James Potter was already lost, and for once, Sirius didn’t mind watching his best mate fall.

March 30, 1975

My Love, It’s been ages since your last letter, and I miss you like mad. Exams are coming up, and I’m hopeless at concentrating without your words to keep me sane. The Marauders are in full swing, though—our latest adventure involved sneaking a swamp into one of the corridors. Filch is still grumbling about it. I told you before how Lily has the most beautiful laugh, right? Well, I think she might finally be warming up to me. I’m playing it cool, but honestly, every time she looks at me, I feel like a kid with a new broomstick. And yet... you’re still the one I write to when I want to share everything. Funny, isn’t it? How’s the ballet going? I remember you mentioned your school recital. I wish I could see you dance. You’d be like a dream on stage, graceful and bright. Maybe one day. Forever yours, Jamie

SIRIUS BLACK WASN’T ONE TO BELIEVE IN LOVE — not the kind spun into poetry or whispered in secret corners of libraries. Sweet words, fleeting touches, long glances… all of it sounded like an elaborate prank. A fantasy created by people who hadn’t tasted the bitterness of the world.

How could anyone believe in love when raised in a house where affection was a weapon and the family motto might as well have been stab first, smile later? The Black family had given Sirius many things: wealth, privilege, and a last name dripping in infamy. But love? That was a foreign concept, spoken in a dialect he’d never been taught.

And yet, Sirius Black — child of darkness and rebellion — had found light. That light had a name: James Potter. From the moment James had barreled into Sirius’s life, grinning like the sun itself, everything had shifted. James had yanked him out of the shadows and dragged him into a world Sirius didn’t know existed — a world filled with warmth, laughter, and actual hugs.

It wasn’t just James, though. It was the whole bloody Potter family. Euphemia and Fleamont were like characters out of a Muggle holiday film. Euphemia, with her soft, unrelenting affection, had made it her personal mission to drown Sirius in love and sweaters. Fleamont’s laughter could fill a room, a deep, belly-shaking sound that warmed Sirius from the inside out. Together, they moved through the world as though their love was an unshakable force, a steady undercurrent in every shared look and word.

“Darling,” Fleamont would call from across the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a newspaper in hand.

“Yes, Fleamont?” Euphemia would reply, her smile soft and teasing as she stirred whatever heavenly dish she was making.

Never by name. Always darling.

Still, if love like that was rare, James bloody Potter seemed hell-bent on stumbling into it without even realizing.

James and you had been dancing around each other for years, so oblivious it was borderline painful. Sirius sometimes wondered if you two were practicing for a comedy sketch, the way you acted like best mates while exuding the kind of tension that could make a Dementor blush. If Sirius had a Galleon for every time James looked at you like you were the only person in the room, he could have bought his own Quidditch team by now. And he's only been watching you for a couple of days.

IT WAS THE FOURT DAY OF HIS CHRISTMAS STAY AT THE POTTER HOME, and the dynamic was impossible to ignore. You and James were practically inseparable, moving through the house like two planets caught in the same orbit. You helped Euphemia with the decorations while James carried boxes of ornaments up from the cellar, always hovering nearby like he was afraid you might vanish if he looked away.

“You know,” Sirius said, leaning casually against the doorway, “most people don’t need to supervise someone hanging tinsel.”

James didn’t even glance back. “She’s not most people, Pads.”

Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “For Merlin’s sake, just marry her already.”

James froze, an ornament dangling from his hand. “What are you on about? We’re just friends.”

“Sure, and I’m a Muggle,” Sirius shot back, rolling his eyes.

You, blissfully unaware of the conversation, turned from where you were perched on a stepstool. “What are you two arguing about now?”

“Nothing,” James said quickly, his cheeks tinged pink. “Sirius is just being Sirius.”

“That’s never good,” you teased, smirking at Sirius.

“Oi! I’ll have you know I’m delightful company.” Sirius crossed his arms, feigning offense. “But if you’re not careful, pretty, you’ll end up trapped in Potter’s web of undying devotion.”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping down from the stool. “Potter’s web of what now?”

James shot Sirius a warning glare, but Sirius just grinned. “Oh, nothing. Just that James here is—”

“Hungry!” James interrupted, loudly and awkwardly. “Right, Pads? Didn’t you say you were starving?”

Sirius barked a laugh, shaking his head as James practically shoved him out of the room. “Subtle as ever, Prongs.”

From Sirius’s vantage point, it was painfully obvious. James was hopelessly, stupidly in love with you. And you? You weren’t much better. The way you smiled at him, teased him, trusted him without question — it was all the evidence Sirius needed. And yet, you were both blissfully, idiotically unaware.

One evening, as Sirius sprawled on the sofa in the Potters’ living room, he couldn’t help but notice the way you and James interacted. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, rifling through a box of Christmas decorations Euphemia had set out.

“Jamie, hand me the gold bauble,” you said, tossing him a quick glance over your shoulder.

James, who had been half-heartedly untangling a string of lights, immediately perked up. “Which one?”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. “The one in your hand, genius.”

James laughed, tossing it gently toward you. It missed entirely, landing with a soft thud on the carpet.

“Good aim, Prongs,” Sirius drawled from his spot on the couch. “Truly inspiring.”

“Shut it, Padfoot,” James shot back, but his grin never faltered. He turned to you, sheepish. “Sorry, love.”

Love. Sirius didn’t miss the way the word slipped out so naturally, like James had been saying it his whole life. And he definitely didn’t miss the way your cheeks flushed as you ducked your head, pretending to focus on the decorations.

LATER THAT EVENING, SIRIUS FOUND HIMSELF LAYING ON THE SOFA IN THE LIVING ROOM AGAIN (it probably was his favorite place in the house by now), a book abandoned on his chest as he watched Euphemia and Fleamont dancing in the kitchen once, a slow, swaying movement that didn’t match the upbeat Muggle music crackling from the wireless. Euphemia had rested her head on Fleamont’s chest, his arms wrapped around her like it was the only place in the world she belonged. It wasn’t dramatic or flashy — just simple and unshakable. And it made Sirius ache in ways he didn’t understand.

And a moment later they were in the same kitchen, preparing tea and laughing softly as they worked.

“Darling, pass me the sugar, would you?” Fleamont said, his voice warm and affectionate.

Euphemia handed him the sugar bowl without looking up, her smile soft. “Here you go, darlin'.”

It was the kind of exchange that Sirius might have mocked once. But now, as he watched the way Fleamont leaned in to kiss Euphemia’s cheek, or how she swatted him away with a laugh when he tried to sneak a biscuit, he felt something unfamiliar tugging at his chest.

“They’re sickeningly sweet, aren’t they?”

Sirius turned to see you standing in the doorway, a mug of hot chocolate in your hands.

“They are,” he admitted, sitting up and motioning for you to join him. “But it’s sort of... nice. In a vomit-inducing way.”

You laughed, settling beside him. “I think it’s lovely. They’re so in tune with each other, you know? Like they’ve been dancing to the same song for decades.”

Sirius tilted his head, watching you as you spoke. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you want that? The whole ‘dancing to the same song’ thing?”

You hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your mug. “I don’t know. I suppose it would be nice, but... I’m not sure it’s in the cards for me.”

Sirius frowned. “Why not?”

You shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. “Because my dance partner’s too busy tripping over his own feet to notice I’m right here.”

Sirius stared at you, his mind racing. Did you mean James? Surely you meant James. But before he could say anything, James walked in, ruffling his hair like he always did.

“Alright, what are you two plotting?”

“World domination,” Sirius replied without missing a beat. “Want in?”

James grinned, flopping onto the sofa and immediately throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Always.”

Sirius watched as you leaned into James, your head resting against his shoulder. James turned to look at you, his expression soft and unguarded.

And that’s when Sirius knew — again, because he seemed to be realizing this every ten minutes — just how much trouble you two were in.

DAYS LATER, SIRIUS WAS STANDING BY THE WINDOW OF THE POTTER COTTAGE, a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming his hands. The world outside was a vision of winter — snow blanketed the ground in pristine white, the trees bowed under its weight, and the air held a sharp, crystalline stillness. Inside, the house was alive with warmth: the crackle of the fire, the gentle hum of Euphemia’s humming, and Fleamont’s cheerful banter as he set up a chessboard by the hearth.

But Sirius wasn’t watching any of that. His attention was fixed on the two figures trudging down the snow-covered path just beyond the window.

You and James walked side by side, your mittened hands brushing against each other with the kind of unconscious familiarity that spoke volumes. The path ahead glittered in the weak afternoon sun, the frost catching the light like scattered diamonds. Clouds of breath curled into the frosty air as you laughed at something James said, the sound clear and bright, even from a distance.

Sirius couldn’t hear the words, but he didn’t need to. He saw everything in the way James turned his head toward you, his face lit with the sort of joy that was impossible to fake.

Then it happened — your foot slipped on a patch of hidden ice. Sirius’s grip on his mug tightened for half a heartbeat, but James was already there. His hand shot out, steadying you before you could fall, as if the world might crumble if he didn’t catch you in time.

“Careful there, love,” James said, his voice carrying easily through the crisp winter air.

You laughed, brushing snow from your coat as your cheeks turned pink — not just from the cold, Sirius was sure. “You’d think I’d have learned how to walk by now.”

James grinned, tugging you a little closer to his side. “Good thing you’ve got me.”

“Good thing indeed,” you replied, your eyes crinkling at the corners, your voice soft and full of affection.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, James reached out to brush a stray snowflake from your hair. His fingers lingered for just a moment, his expression open and unguarded, filled with something so pure that Sirius had to look away for a second.

It wasn’t the first time Sirius had seen that look on James’s face. It was the same quiet, awestruck gaze he’d noticed a thousand times when James thought no one was watching. But seeing it now, against the backdrop of snow and laughter, it struck Sirius like a Bludger to the chest.

That’s how Fleamont looked at Euphemia, Sirius realized. He’d seen it that very morning, when Euphemia had walked into the kitchen with a sleepy smile and Fleamont had paused mid-sentence, his face lighting up as if she were the sunrise itself.

Sirius took a long sip of his hot chocolate, the sweetness of it sharp against the lump forming in his throat. He muttered to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Never by name. Always love.”

“What are you smiling about, Sirius?” Euphemia’s voice broke the quiet, warm and curious. She stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

He turned, raising his mug in a mock toast. “Oh, nothing, Mrs. P. Just watching James make a right fool of himself in the snow. Again.”

Euphemia chuckled, stepping closer to peer out the window. Her gaze softened as she spotted you and James, now engaged in some sort of playful shoving match, James clearly letting you win.

“Hopeless,” Sirius added, shaking his head.

“Like father, like son,” Euphemia said with a knowing smile.

Sirius huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching the scene outside. Sirius’s gaze lingered on James’s hand as it rested on your shoulder, the ease of the gesture speaking louder than words.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sirius allowed himself to believe. Not just in the love he saw in James’s face or the easy affection between Fleamont and Euphemia. But in the idea that maybe—just maybe—love wasn’t the cruel, twisted thing his family had tried to make him believe.

Maybe love, real love, was something entirely different.

November 27, 1976

My Jamie, Winter has settled over Beauxbatons, and the mountains are kissed with snow. I wish you could see how the frost sparkles on the trees. I think of you often, imagining the mischief you’re up to at Hogwarts. I heard you’re Quidditch Captain now — congratulations! I can already picture you soaring through the air, the wind in your hair and that unstoppable grin. You were born to lead, Jamie, and I’m so proud of you. Your mum wrote me again last week. She’s sent another scarf, this one in Gryffindor colors. She says it’ll keep me close to you. It does, in a way — I wrap it around myself when I miss you most. Do you think of me as much as I think of you? You’re my constant, my warmth on the coldest days. Soon it’ll be Christmas, and we’ll have the stars and endless nights to talk about everything. Until then, stay safe, my Jamie. Forever yours, Love

THE CHRISTMAS CHAOS AT THE POTTER HOUSE STARTED BEFORE SIRIUS EVEN HAD A CHANCE TO GRUMBLE ABOUT THE HOUR. The sun wasn’t up yet, but Fleamont Potter most certainly was, barreling into James’s room with the energy of a man half his age. Before Sirius could properly complain — or hide under the covers — he and James were unceremoniously hauled to the garage. Their mission? Assembling the absurdly large Christmas table that Euphemia insisted on every year.

Sirius swore under his breath, wrestling with the oversized wooden monstrosity. “You know,” he grumbled, glaring at James, “if your parents had just gone for a nice, normal-sized table, we wouldn’t be out here freezing our—”

“Language, Sirius!” Fleamont interrupted cheerfully, though there was a definite glint of amusement in his eyes.

Sirius rolled his eyes but complied, though only because Euphemia’s kitchen smelled like heaven, and he was determined to earn his way to a plate of whatever was roasting in the oven.

Inside, the house was a picture of festive perfection: holly strung along the bannisters, twinkling fairy lights glowing softly in the corners, and a wireless by the fireplace playing carols just loud enough to make Sirius hum along when no one was listening. Euphemia’s soft laughter echoed from the kitchen, mingling with yours as the two of you prepared a feast fit for kings — or in this case, a house full of Marauders.

And James? Well, James wasn’t himself.

Sirius noticed it almost immediately. His best mate was usually a hurricane of enthusiasm during the holidays, cracking jokes, sneaking sweets from the kitchen, and generally making a nuisance of himself. But today, James kept glancing toward the kitchen like a puppy waiting for its owner to come home.

The idiot was besotted.

Every time your laughter drifted into the room, James’s head whipped around like he was under some sort of spell. If you so much as said his name, he’d stop mid-sentence, his eyes lighting up like the Christmas tree in the corner. Sirius would’ve teased him mercilessly if it weren’t so... obvious. Painfully, ridiculously obvious.

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, WHEN JAMES AND FLEAMONT HAD VANISHED TO THE GARAGE — probably to charm something they had no business charming — Sirius found himself tasked with tidying up James’s room. He grumbled the whole time, of course. Cleaning wasn’t his style, and James’s room was a disaster zone: Quidditch magazines spilling off the desk, parchment crumpled in corners, and socks scattered in ways that defied the laws of physics.

“Honestly, Prongs,” Sirius muttered, holding up a suspiciously stiff sock with the tips of his fingers. “How are you supposed to woo Evans — or anyone, for that matter — when your room smells like the wrong end of a hippogriff?”

As he moved to clear a particularly cluttered shelf, a box caught his eye. It was tucked in the far corner, partially hidden behind an old textbook. Sirius raised an eyebrow. Anything stashed away like that was bound to be interesting. With a mischievous grin, he reached for it, only for the entire thing to tumble off the shelf, spilling its contents across the floor.

“Bloody hell,” he swore, crouching to pick up the mess. His hand froze mid-reach when he realized what had fallen out: letters. Dozens of them, bundled in ribbons of various colors.

Sirius sat back on his heels, eyeing the pile. His curiosity, as always, got the better of him. With a glance at the door to ensure James wasn’t about to barge in, he grabbed the nearest stack and plopped himself onto the bed, cross-legged and grinning like a kid about to open a box of Zonko’s best tricks.

The first letter he unfolded smelled faintly of vanilla. Your scent, Sirius realized, and his grin faltered for just a moment.

October 7, 1971 Beauxbatons is so different from Hogwarts. The professors here are so strict, James, sometimes it feels like I’m being watched all the time! I miss the feeling of freedom you must have at Hogwarts, even if you’re always getting into trouble with Sirius. Do you ever just wish you could escape the rules and run wild?

Sirius chuckled softly, his eyes scanning the elegant handwriting. “Trouble? Me? Never,” he muttered, his tone dripping with mock innocence.

But as he reread the letter, a strange tightness settled in his chest. The way you wrote about Hogwarts — it wasn’t just about the school. It was about James. Even miles away, you saw him as something larger than life, as the embodiment of freedom and adventure.

And James? The idiot probably thought you were just being polite.

February 21, 1971 Sirius sounds like a bit of a handful, but I bet he’s hilarious. I think I’d like him, even if he does cause chaos. You all sound like you’re constantly up to something, but I imagine you get into trouble a lot, don’t you? Anyway, I’d love to hear more about his pranks— I’m sure you and him must make a great team!

Sirius barked a laugh. “A handful? Pretty, you have no idea.”

Still, the words struck a chord. He could see it so clearly now: the way you’d woven yourself into James’s world with every playful question and teasing remark. You weren’t just curious about his adventures; you wanted to be a part of them, to understand the boy behind the Quidditch bravado and the wild schemes.

Then came the letters about Lily.

March 25, 1973 James, you always talk about Lily, and I think it’s sweet that you have such admiration for her. I bet she doesn’t even know how much you like her. She sounds like she’d be really hard to win over, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Just don’t forget to have fun along the way, yeah?

Sirius groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Merlin’s saggy pants, Prongs, how thick can you be?”

He could almost picture you writing those words, the careful balance between encouragement and self-sacrifice. Even as you pushed James toward Lily, your letters were saturated with love — pure, unguarded, and heartbreakingly unspoken.

It was infuriating. How could two people so obviously meant for each other be so oblivious?

By the time Sirius reached the later letters, the humor had drained from his face.

December 5, 1974 Your mum sent me another gift! She’s so sweet, and I can’t believe how kind she is to me. It always makes me feel so loved. You know, when I’m away from you, it’s like I’m missing something... like the best part of my day. I never want to take our friendship for granted.

The parchment crinkled slightly as Sirius’s grip tightened. That wasn’t just gratitude — it was devotion, raw and aching. The kind of love that didn’t need fireworks or grand declarations because it was already woven into every moment, every memory.

And James? Sirius shook his head, a pang of frustration mixing with pity. James had spent years chasing the idea of love, blind to the fact that he already had it.

The final letter undid him.

December 12, 1975 I was thinking about you today, and how you’ve always been there for me — whether it was listening to me complain about the Beauxbatons professors or laughing with me when I’m in a bad mood. You’re always there, and I think that’s why I trust you more than anyone else. You’ll never know how much that means to me, Jamie.

Sirius closed his eyes, letting the words sink in. You didn’t just see James; you knew him. The real James — the boy who laughed too loudly, who lived for Quidditch, who couldn’t resist a good prank. You loved James, not the idealized version he tried to be for Lily or anyone else.

Sirius exhaled sharply, folding the letter with a reverence he didn’t usually bother with. His heart ached — not for himself, but for you, for James, for the years you’d both spent dancing around the truth.

“Merlin, you’re both idiots,” he muttered, though his voice was softer now.

Sirius ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it further into disarray, his mind replaying what he’d just uncovered. The letters — those bloody letters — had been the key. Now everything fell into place: James’s barely-there smiles over the past few days, the way his gaze lingered when you entered the room, the softness in his laugh when you said something clever. James Potter, his brash, unrelenting, wildfire of a best friend, was utterly transformed around you.

Balanced. Grounded. Sincere.

It was unbearably obvious now, as if someone had pulled back the curtain.

And yet, the idiot still had Lily Evans’s picture on his bedside table in his dorm.

Sirius’s gaze fell on the stack of letters once more, neatly tied with a ribbons that seemed far too delicate for James’s usual chaos. He could have left it alone, let James figure things out in his own thick-headed way — but that wasn’t Sirius Black’s style. If there was one thing he’d learned from years of pranks, broken curfews, and bending the rules until they snapped, it was this: sometimes people needed a push, even if it stung a little.

Sirius exhaled and leaned back against the headboard, the letters still in hand. "You're a fucking idiot," he muttered under his breath.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. Oh, the look on James’s face when he confronted him — it would be priceless. Sirius wasn’t one for sentiment, but for you? For James? Maybe, just maybe, he’d make an exception.

The door creaked open, and James stumbled into the room, his steps heavy with exhaustion. Sirius watched as his best friend all but collapsed into the armchair by the bookcase, running a hand through his already-messy hair. He looked like he’d been wrestling dragons all day — or, more likely, his dad’s endless list of chores.

But there was something else, too. A tension in his jaw, a restless energy that practically vibrated off him. Sirius could see it plain as day: James hadn’t seen her all day, and it was driving him mad. She was so close — just a staircase or two away — and yet untouchable.

Sirius cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, Prongs, is this why you’ve been obsessing over the owl schedule for years? Didn’t peg you as the secret pen-pal type.”

James’s head snapped up, his hazel eyes narrowing in confusion. They darted to the bed, where the stack of letters lay exposed, and then to the shelf where the box had clearly been moved. He froze for a second before letting out a long, resigned sigh.

“Pads,” James said, his voice low and uneven, heavy with an edge Sirius rarely heard. “It’s not cool to read someone else’s letters.”

The room seemed to still, the words settling into the air like dust, soft but laden with weight. James’s eyes — those unmistakable hazel orbs that always held a spark of mischief — were guarded now, a flicker of something raw and unspoken behind them.

Sirius leaned forward, a grin stretching across his face like the blade of a knife, sharp and unapologetic. “Not cool,” he echoed, his voice laced with mockery, “is keeping this from me for six bloody years. Care to explain, or should I guess?”

James flinched, the tension in his shoulders visible even through the soft knit of his jumper. He moved toward the bed with the slow, deliberate steps of someone walking a tightrope, balancing the fragile threads of anger and restraint. The dim light of the room cast long shadows over his frame, making him seem taller, older — more vulnerable.

He reached for one of the letters, his hand hesitating for the briefest moment before his fingers curled around the parchment. His thumb brushed over the faded ink, tracing the loops of her handwriting like a blind man reading Braille. The edges of the letter were frayed, softened by years of touch, and as he lifted it to his face, Sirius caught the faintest smile tugging at James’s lips.

It was a small, private thing, that smile. Reverent. It wasn’t the boyish grin Sirius knew so well, the one James wielded like a weapon to charm or disarm. No, this was different — softer, as though the mere act of holding the letter in his hand brought James closer to something sacred.

Sirius felt his chest tighten. He’d seen James in every possible state — triumphant on the Quidditch pitch, livid after a prank gone wrong, devastated when the world seemed too heavy — but this? This was new. This was James Potter unguarded.

“She’s different, isn’t she?” Sirius said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle.

James didn’t look up. He sat on the edge of the bed, sorting the letters with a precision that bordered on ritual. Each movement was deliberate, his fingers careful not to smudge the ink or crease the paper. Sirius had never seen him handle anything with such care — not his broomstick, not his glasses, not even the Marauder’s Map.

“It’s not what you think,” James murmured, but the words lacked conviction, as though he knew they’d crumble under scrutiny.

Sirius scoffed, leaning back in his chair with an exasperated snort. “Not what I think? Mate, I think you’re in love with her and too much of an idiot to admit it. Am I wrong?”

James froze mid-motion, the ribbon he was tying slipping from his fingers. For a moment, he didn’t speak, didn’t move — just stared at the letters as if they might answer for him.

“She’s…” He trailed off, his voice barely audible. “She’s different, Pads. She’s… everything.”

There it was. The confession, raw and trembling in the space between them. Sirius leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his expression unusually serious.

“Yeah,” Sirius said softly. “She is. And that’s exactly why you’re a bloody idiot for pretending she’s not.”

James let out a bitter laugh, the sound low and fractured. He raked a hand through his already-messy hair, his movements frenetic, as though he were trying to shake off the weight of the moment.

“You don’t get it,” he said, his voice cracking under the strain. “It’s not that simple.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” Sirius shot back, his tone sharp but not cruel. “I’ve watched you for years, Prongs. You talk about Evans like she’s some kind of bloody trophy, but her? You look at her like she’s the air you breathe. Like without her, you’d suffocate. And you’re sitting here telling me it’s complicated?”

James’s laugh turned hollow, empty. “Lily’s… safe. She’s who I’m supposed to want. She’s not my bloody childhood best friend.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Sirius said nothing. Then, he barked out a laugh, loud and biting.

“Safe?” he repeated, incredulous. “Since when have you ever played it safe, James Potter? Love’s not supposed to be safe. It’s messy, terrifying, and completely bloody worth it. Or are you seriously telling me you’d rather be ‘safe’ than happy?”

James looked up at him then, and Sirius’s breath caught. His best friend’s hazel eyes, usually so full of fire and mischief, were red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears.

“Do you think…” James’s voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “Do you think she feels the same?”

Sirius’s grin returned, slow and wolfish. “Mate, judging by these letters? She’s just as much of an idiot in love as you are.”

For a moment, James didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. And then, like a dam breaking, he laughed — a shaky, unsteady sound that grew louder, freer, until it filled the room.

“What do I do?” James asked, his voice raw and trembling with vulnerability.

Sirius stood, crossing the room to clap a hand on James’s shoulder. “You start by telling her everything. No more hiding. No more pretending. You owe her — and yourself — more than that.”

James nodded slowly, the faintest glimmer of determination flickering in his eyes. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Sirius said, smirking. “I’m always right.”

As James reached for the letters, carefully tucking them back into their box, Sirius watched him with a rare sense of pride. This wasn’t just James Potter, the fearless Quidditch captain, the prankster extraordinaire. This was James Potter, a boy on the cusp of something extraordinary.

And for once, Sirius Black wasn’t just causing chaos — he was helping someone find their way through it.

THE SNOW OUTSIDE FELL IN HEAVY, DELIBERATE FLAKES, BLANKETING THE WORLD IN A SOFT, UNBROKEN QUIET. Sirius stood on the second-floor landing of the Potter home, a mug of hot coffee cradled in his hands. The rich aroma mingled with the faint scent of pine and cinnamon wafting from the decorated tree below. The whole house seemed to hum with a kind of warmth that Sirius rarely allowed himself to imagine, let alone experience.

From his vantage point, he had a perfect view of the living room below. The fire in the hearth crackled gently, casting golden shadows across the walls. Mr. Potter sat on the sofa with an arm draped around Mrs. Potter, the two of them cocooned under a soft plaid blanket. A book rested on Fleamont’s lap as he read aloud, his voice low and steady. Euphemia’s head rested against his shoulder, her eyes half-closed in serene contentment. Every so often, she’d smile at something he read or reach up to adjust her husband’s glasses, her touch so light and familiar it made Sirius’s chest ache with longing — not jealousy, but something softer. A wistfulness for this kind of unshakable bond.

But his gaze didn’t linger on the Potters for long. It drifted to the corner of the room, where the Christmas tree’s twinkling lights bathed two figures in a kaleidoscope of warm colors. You and James sat on the floor amidst the chaos of torn wrapping paper and open boxes. The morning’s gifts had already been exchanged, but it seemed James had saved something special for last.

Even from here, Sirius could see the faint nervousness in his best friend’s posture. James wasn’t one to fidget, yet his hands moved restlessly, smoothing invisible creases on his trousers, brushing imaginary dust from the tree skirt. His eyes, though, were unwavering as they watched you. You were cross-legged on the fluffy white rug, your hair falling in soft waves over your shoulder as you picked idly at a ribbon. Sirius noticed how your gaze lingered on James, curious and full of quiet affection.

James leaned closer, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable lilt of mischief. “One of the owls was late,” he said, holding up a slightly weathered envelope. The parchment looked a little worse for wear, its edges crumpled as if it had been handled too often. “It dropped this off this morning… asked me to give it to the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you reached for the envelope. “Still using that line, are you, Potter?”

“Can you blame me? It’s worked wonders so far.” His grin was cocky, but Sirius saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he handed it over.

You rolled your eyes, but the way you bit your lip betrayed your own anticipation. Turning the envelope over in your hands, you ran your fingers along the black-inked scrawl of your name before carefully breaking the seal. Sirius leaned forward slightly, his coffee forgotten as he watched the scene unfold.

The moment the letter emerged, the air seemed to shift. Your eyes darted across the page, your expression softening with each word. Sirius could see the precise moment the meaning settled in — the way your lips parted in surprise, the way your shoulders tensed, then relaxed, as if letting the weight of something long unspoken sink in. James’s hand rested on your knee, his thumb moving in small, nervous circles.

“Love?” James’s voice was barely above a whisper, his usual bravado stripped away. He was watching you as though the world rested on your reaction, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around yours. “You’re awfully quiet. Should I be worried? Say something. Anything.”

You didn’t answer immediately. Your eyes stayed fixed on the page, even as a tear slipped down your cheek, catching the light like a tiny diamond. James froze, his face paling slightly.

“Hey, hey, no…” His voice cracked. “Don’t cry. If it’s rubbish, just say so and we can forget it. Burn it, even.” He laughed nervously, though it sounded forced. “I’ll… I’ll pretend it never happened.”

That’s when you looked up, meeting his gaze with eyes so full of emotion it made Sirius’s breath hitch even from across the room. You didn’t say anything. Instead, you reached out, cupping James’s face in your hands. He stilled under your touch, his wide-eyed surprise melting into something softer as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss Sirius might have teased him about — not fiery or impulsive. It was quiet, deliberate, and full of a tenderness that made Sirius feel like an intruder, even though he couldn’t look away. James’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer as though you might slip away if he let go.

Sirius smiled to himself, feeling a rare swell of pride. James had always been the heart of their little group, the one who wore his feelings openly. And now, here he was, finding a kind of love that Sirius knew would anchor him forever.

A sharp click shattered the moment, and both of you turned your heads to find Sirius standing at the bottom of the stairs, a wide grin plastered across his face as he waved a freshly developed photo in the air.

“Perfect!” he announced, shaking the picture. “This one’s going in the family album. And when my godchildren ask how their parents got together, I’ll tell them Uncle Sirius orchestrated the whole thing.”

You laughed, leaning your forehead against James’s shoulder, while James groaned, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “You’re a menace, Pads,” he said, though his voice held no bite.

“A charming menace,” Sirius replied, retreating toward the couch where the elder Potters were watching the scene unfold with amused smiles.

“Everything alright, dear?” Euphemia asked, her eyes twinkling with affection as she glanced between you and James.

James nodded, his hand still firmly clasping yours. “Yeah, Mum. Everything’s perfect.”

Mrs. Potter’s smile widened, and she reached over to pat your hand. “Welcome to the family, my dear. Though, truth be told, you’ve always been part of it.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion.

THE REST OF THE DAY PASSED IN A GOLDEN HAZE OF LAUGHTER AND WARMTH. Euphemia roped you into helping her in the kitchen, insisting you learn the secret to her mulled wine. Sirius watched from the doorway, sipping his coffee and grinning as you tried to follow her directions, only for James to sneak in and steal a taste from the pot, earning himself a playful swat on the arm.

By evening, the fire burned low, and the snow outside had blanketed the world in an even deeper hush. Sirius sat in his favorite armchair, a blanket draped over his legs as he watched the scene before him. You and James were curled up together on the rug, a cozy tangle of limbs as you whispered to each other, your laughter soft and unguarded. The Potters sat nearby, sharing quiet conversation, their hands intertwined.

For a moment, Sirius closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the room and the sounds of contentment wash over him. He thought of his own childhood Christmases — cold, sterile affairs devoid of joy. And then he thought of this… the home James had built, not just for himself but for everyone he cared about. It was the kind of love Sirius had always believed was out of reach. Until now.

“Merry Christmas, Prongs,” he murmured, raising his empty mug in a toast to his best friend.

James glanced up, catching his eye. “Merry Christmas, Pads,” he replied, his grin soft but unmistakably James.

James had turned to you, his hand cradling your cheek as he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. You smiled up at him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his arm.

"Merry Christmas, love," James murmured, his voice low and filled with a tenderness that made Sirius’s chest tighten.

"Merry Christmas, Jamie," you replied, resting your forehead against his.

Sirius chuckled, settling back into his chair, the warmth of the moment settling deep in his bones. The world outside might be cold and uncertain, but here, in this house, surrounded by love and laughter, everything felt exactly as it should be.

He thought about how James Potter had once given him the home and warmth he never had. And now, it seemed, Sirius Black had helped his best friend find his way home, too.

FROM THE ARCHIVE OF SIRIUS BLACK:

To my future, undoubtedly brilliant, devilishly handsome, and wildly talented nephews,

Listen up, you little rascals. You don’t know me yet, but let me make one thing very clear: I’m the reason you even exist. That’s right, your ridiculously perfect Uncle Sirius is the mastermind behind it all. Without my charm, wit, and expert meddling, your parents might still be doing the whole "will-they-won't-they" nonsense.

So, when you’re out there ruling the world, remember to thank yours truly. The coolest, suavest, and most humble uncle you'll ever have — Sirius Black. You're welcome.

December 25, 1976 My Love, It’s Christmas, and the house is quiet now, the soft hum of the tree lights the only sound. I’ve been sitting here for hours, staring at this parchment, trying to find words big enough for what I feel, but they don’t exist. Still, I need to try. Love, I see it now—what I’ve been too blind to see all along. I’ve always thought of myself as brave, fearless even. But when it came to you, I was a coward. I didn’t want to risk losing you. You, who have been the brightest part of my life since the moment we met. You, who’ve filled every corner of my world with warmth and light, even when we were miles apart. Every summer, when you stepped into my life again, it was like the sun breaking through a storm. You’d sit by the lake with that book you never quite finished because I was always distracting you. You’d laugh at my terrible jokes, your nose crinkling just so. And you’d hum when you thought no one was listening, always off-key but somehow more perfect than any melody I’ve ever heard. I thought I was looking for the kind of love my parents have — their unshakable bond, the way they look at each other like the world begins and ends with them. And all this time, it was right here, under my nose. You were under my nose. I think I was afraid, love. Afraid that if I let myself feel what’s always been there, I’d ruin us. That I’d lose the only person who’s ever truly known me, the only one who can look past the pranks, the bravado, and see me—the real me. But Sirius, being Sirius, knocked some sense into me. He said I’ve been acting like a fool, and for once, he’s right. Rereading our letters with him was like seeing my life laid out before me, and every line, every word pointed to you. Even when you were far away, you were my everything. The letters you sent were more than ink on parchment; they were lifelines. When Hogwarts felt too big, too chaotic, you were the quiet in the storm. When I felt lost, you reminded me who I am. Do you know how many times I reread your words, just to feel close to you? I kept your letters in my trunk, hidden from the others like a secret treasure. Because that’s what you’ve always been — my treasure. How could I have been so blind? How could I have wasted so much time thinking it was Lily I wanted when it’s always been you? I’ve spent so long chasing a dream when the real thing was right in front of me. I see it now, clearer than I’ve ever seen anything. You are my stars, my moon, my sun. You’re the laugh that makes everything brighter, the voice that feels like home.

I love you. I love the way your handwriting gets messier when you’re excited. I love the way you argue with me over the silliest things just to see me smile. I love the way you hum when you’re nervous and how you always know exactly what to say to pull me out of my worst days. I love you. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I hope with everything in me that you do. And if you don’t, I’ll understand. Because having you in my life, even just as my friend, has been the greatest gift I could ever ask for. But if there’s even the smallest chance you might love me too, then I promise to spend the rest of my life proving I deserve you. Merry Christmas, my love. You’ve been my greatest gift every day since I met you. Forever yours, Jamie

thankx for reading <3

god, this is my biggest work and I was so afraid to publish it, cause it seems to me that no one reads such long fics (I myself adore long fics).

and if you've finished reading this, thank u and I love you so much! I hope you enjoyed every part of it and I will be very glad if you leave a comment, because it seems to me that I have left all of myself in this work!

you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox. btw my requests are open so… make a wish :3

– your santi 🪐

masterlist

#– santi 🪐#james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter x y/n #james potter fanfiction #bsf!james potter #james potter x fem!reader

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changisworld · 9 months ago

Text

“Why do you make me feel like this, pretty?”

fuckboy!hyunjin x reader

Word count; 5,902

Summary: After hyunjin took your virginity, you grew attached despite trying your hardest not to. You find out he hooked up with someone the day after it happened which broke your heart, making you cry.. but of course, hyunjin caught you crying. He didn’t really know what he felt, it being new to him, as he tries to refuse the silly ideas popping into his brain, he can’t ignore how much you being upset is making his heart.. hurt?? Surely he doesn’t like you too..?

18+ ONLY, MDNI, SMUT UNDER THE CUT.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

part 3 here

**This can be read on its own despite it probably being confusing but i highly recommend reading part 1!**

SMUT WARNINGS: spit/drool, PIV, needy reader, pet names, shyish reader, rimming( f rec), oral ( f rec), fingering (f rec), finger sucking, unprotected sex, jealous jinnie, edging???,pull out method, literally 1 spank, slight dacryphilia, jealous jinnie, soft jinnie, kind jinnie, hyunjins a tease obvs, slight aftercare, wayyy fluffier ending than last time you're welcome!!

You & Hyunjin walk off campus, you still hiding your face from him, embarrassed at the tears now staining your cheeks, your face tinged red, you also don't fail to miss the looks you & Hyunjin are receiving from other students walking past the both of you, his arm still around you & you can't help but feel judged, so you push his arm off.

"Forget the cafe, I'm just gonna go home, I feel.. sick. I'll see you later Hyunjin." you murmur, still not looking at him in the eye.

"Y/n stop being weird, just cmon. I promise to cheer you up." He replies back, reaching out to cup your cheek but you move your head before murmuring a quick 'bye' before walking away from him hastily, leaving him standing there, confused & a bit annoyed.

He watches as you turn the corner & he huffs before kicking a stone nearby. 'Why do I care she's actually upset? 'What did I do wrong?' 'I hope she's okay' & 'Shit how can I apologise' are all thoughts that race through his head, no matter how much he tries to shake it all off, he genuinely feels guilty. But why? He never feels sorry for the girls he fucks n chucks, so what makes it different? He barely even knows you? He only spoke to you for a week which is barely anything. He sighs before pulling out his phone & going onto his contacts, about to call Joy, another one of his side things, before deciding against it, instead calling his friend Jisung& asking to meet him.

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Twenty minutes later Jisung meets him at the local dog walking park & they end up sitting on a bench, talking about random stuff before the topic of you comes up, but not because of Hyunjin.

“You’re lucky you got to partner up with y/n for that assignment, I got put with Changbin so obviously i fucking failed, tryna do that presentation on the spot was absolute torture, you still talk to her? she seems quiet as hell.” Han sighs, sipping his bubble tea through his straw & Hyunjin laughs.

“Ay! I actually helped her so shut up, just because you both have no more than eight brain cells, i’m just proof there is such a thing as looks & beauty. Nah, we haven’t really spoken since, just been busy i suppose & what the hell am i meant to say to her?” Hyunjin replies, a quick chuckle leaving his lips.

“What do you mean you’re proof that looks n beauty exist, y/n basically invented it you idiot. Wha'cha mean what are you meant to say to her? Did you fuck her too or something?" Han questions, leaning forward.

Hyunjin just kisses his teeth before nodding & Han just raises his eyebrows. "fuck, I didn't think someone like y/n would get around that way. Can you do me a favour n start speaking to her again n put in a good word about me I wanna approach her but she feels intimidating, you get me?" Once Hyunjin hears these words, a bad & gross feeling bubbles up in his stomach.. is what he feeling... jealousy?

"Uhh.. you're really not her type, she's not up for dating, she told me. Go try your luck with someone else." Hyunjin says in a bitter tone, not looking at the man in front of him & Han scoffs.

"You chat shit Hyunjin, stop gatekeeping! I'll just use my charms & trust me, we'll be fucking a week later n dating two weeks later." Jisung jokes, patting Hyunjins leg but he pushes it off.

"You're ridiculous Jisung, she won't want what's between your legs." Hyunjin spits out before standing up off the bench, stretching out & sighing. "I have things to do, you can keep day dreaming, I'll see you later. choke on your boba." Hyunjin jokes with Han & he spits out a bubble as a response before he walks away, leaving Han on the bench.

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He walks through the rest of the park, thinking about Hans words & he can't get over it. 'Why am I so jealous?' 'Who does he honestly think he is talking about y/n like that?' 'They wouldn't even look good together.' are things that keep racing through his head & he is getting more pissed off as the seconds go by.

He gets out of the park & he keeps walking on the pavement, not having an actual destination in mind.. until he seen you walking out of a random convenience store across the street & a lightbulb lights up behind his brown eyes.

He picks up the pace of his walk as he follows just far enough behind you on the other side of the road until you reach your apartment complex before entering & he can't help but feel like an absolute creep, but that doesn't stop him. He screenshots his location on find my Iphone, just so he won't forget where to go later on as he walks back the way he came, heading to the main line of shops near the campus.

He strolls around for around twenty minutes, looking at random little trinkets, bookmarks with the college logo on it, which he cringes at due to the look of it, before he keeps walking until he reaches a little florist shop.

He enters it, aimlessly walking around, fingertips grazing over a few roses & tulips, admiring the pretty colours as he sets his eyes on a bouquet of lillies. He picks it up, giving himself a better look at it before deciding he is happy with it, heading to the counter.

He places them down, not paying attention to the cashier as he looks at the little vases beside the register.

"Can I get this pink vase to- ohh, I didn't know you worked here Jennie, hiya." he says, surprised. "Sure. You know, Lisa doesn't like lillies, I suggest you get her daffodils, her favourite colour being yellow n all." she responds, smiling up at him. "Ah, they.. they're not for Lisa so I'll pass. Can you fill up the vase with a bit of water too? I think that's what you're supposed to do, right?" he says quickly, hand coming up to the back of his neck, the awkwardness filling the small space.

"mhmm. £29.11 is the total." She says in a cold voice, taking the tag off the vase as she turns around to the small sink, filling up the vase 1/3 of the way. She dumps the bouquet in the vase with no care at all before pushing it towards him, giving him the card machine. He pays, a strained, awkward smile on his face before saying thank you & leaving.

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After buying you a box of chocolates & a Vanilla bean smelling candle & following the path you walked on earlier, he ends up back outside your apartment complex.

He sits on the front steps, waiting for someone to leave the building so he can catch the door & once he is inside, he begins knocking on every door, talking to each person who answers in a quiet voice, Ignoring the confused looks of other students who recognise him who are all definitely wondering why he is knocking doors looking for you, making sure you wouldn't hear him & then refuse to open the door.

He reaches the fourth floor, mouth slightly dry from all the talking he has had to do & he is beginning to doubt his memory. He knocks on the third door & takes a step back, waiting for an answer as he hears footsteps & he can't help the smile that spreads across his face as you are the one who open the door.

"Surprise, & I'm not just talking about my pretty face. Can I come in?" he chirps as he raises his arms, making sure you see what he has brought despite it being almost all you can see, not missing the chance to give you an up & down look, you wearing black tight shorts & an oversized off the shoulder graphic shirt.

"Hyunjin, I told you I was sick.. How the hell do you know where I live?" you question, honestly just confused. "Does that matter? I asked a question, Don't leave me standing here I went to like twenty doors to find you!" he pouts. You roll your eyes & begin to shut the door but Hyunjin stops it with his foot.

"Okay okay okay! I followed you, but not in a creepy way I swear! I just wanted to.. apologise? But I knew you would ghost me If I text you." he says in a sulky voice. You groan before opening the door back open, his pretty face poking through the gap. "You are a creep, you know that? Why you apologising?" you question him, crossing your arms, not amused but slightly flattered despite not showing it.

"I'm not going to broadcast my deep, heart warming words in the corridor for everyone to hear, just let me inside, pleaseee." he pouts again & you just sigh before moving out of the way so he can enter, taking his shoes off as soon as they touch your laminate flooring.

You walk into your connected living room & kitchen before sitting on your corner kitchen counter, your legs swinging off it as Hyunjin follows behind you, looking around at the cute random decorations hung up on your walls & on the mantle pieces.

He places the flowers on your coffee table before walking back into your small kitchen & leaning on the opposite counter top, still holding the chocolates & candle.

"Okay, Can I give you my apology now? I rehearsed this to make sure I get everything right." He tries to joke but you just look at him with a blank expression before nodding, encouraging him to continue. "Okay, I didn't realise how much I've upset you & I'm sorry for not trying to check up on you sooner & stopped speaking to you. I partially didn't even mean to ghost you but I also genuinely thought you wouldn't speak to me anymore since you're always so concentrated on lessons & studying, I thought you would have thought I was getting in your way. I'm also sorry for fucking with that girl & you overheard it, if I'm genuinely being honest, I did it to try wipe my mind of you. I know what we did is a huge thing & it was wrong of me to have acted the way I did, if i'm being honest, this was the first time I did what we did so I just didn't really know how to act, but I'm genuinely sorry y/n. Chocolates?"

He blurts out, not taking his eyes off you as he feels his cheeks go hot, the nerves & also the way you're looking at him making him flustered. You both sit in silence for a minute, him waiting for a response & you thinking of a response.

"Gimme the box & light the candle for me, second drawer to your right n you will find a lighter. If you felt like this all week, You've still had seven days to come n tell me this but instead you've let me feel like shit for a week, this was the exact reason I was unsure to do it with you Hyunjin, in fear something like this would have happened & instead of just growing a pair & talking to me, you fuck someone else to just try forget?" You reply, your voice getting a bit shaky without meaning it, the feelings of it all hitting you again.

Hyunjin listens as he digs into his pocket & pulling out his own lighter & lighting it before putting it on the counter & he walks the few steps over to you, handing you the chocolate before standing right in front of you, leaning his hands on the counter on the outside of your legs, caging you in.

"Please y/n, don't think like that. I know I should have swallowed my pride n apologised earlier, I was just trying to convince myself I didn't give a fuck but I do, hence why I'm here. I honestly think you used those crystals & manifested this or something." he mumbles the last part, looking away from you, his ears going red after hearing his words out loud & your legs stop swinging as you pause at his words.

"What do you mean you actually give a fuck? What are you trying to say." you reply back, resisting the urge to reach out & stroke his hair. Hyunjin sighs & shakes his head. "Don't make me spit it out y/n, It's just gonna sound like a lie to you." You get an anxious feeling in your belly before taking his chin & guiding him to look back up at you. "Hyunjin, just say it, it's only me here anyway. Just say what you gotta say." you respond in a quiet but firm voice, honestly scared.

He doesn't have much option but to look at you as he lets himself melt into your hand lightly before taking a deep breath. "I.. care about you? I don't know, it feels weird but like... I genuinely felt like shit after how I treated you n i've tried to bury it but it just won't leave, I don't really know what it is about you n honestly it scares me." he says in a quiet, quick tone & your jaw drops.

You just freeze as you both just look at each other in complete silence not including the quiet crackling of the candle & your living room clock ticking. Hyunjin can't bare the awkwardness anymore as he gets shy for the first time in years, moving his arms to stand completely upright but you pull him in by the shirt to hug him, tears threatening to leave your eyes as his arms wrap around you in return.

"This better not be some sort of sick joke Hyunjin or i swear I'll kill you, you're gonna boost my ego to a fraction of what yours is." you half laugh as he nuzzles his face into your neck, inhaling your sweet smell. "It's not, dead serious. You're just different n I don't know how to feel about it, stop casting spells to make me attached to you. I've been itching to ask to see you all week, I wish I wasn't being so stubborn." he muffles into your neck, moving his head side to side slightly, his nose tickling your neck, making you lean more into him, chuckling at his stupid joke.

"Stop with the silly magic jokes, you're ridiculous. I want to say you're not forgiven since you need to prove to me you're not talking out your ass but I do accept your indeed heart warming apology & I appreciate it just more than the flowers n chocolate." you say in a soft voice & you feel Hyunjin smile against your neck before he moves & kisses the tip of your nose, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"That's what I wanted to hear, I wouldn't be able to handle it if you had told me to fuck off, my first ever rejection coming from the first person I've ever bought a present for that isn't my mom." You chuckle at this before hopping off the counter, grabbing the box of chocolates that were staring at you.

"Rejection? You tryna say you like meee?" you tease, taking his hands before swaying them back & forth & he rolls his eyes, chuckling. "Was it not kinda obvious? I wanted to say it without directly saying it in case I embarrassed myself but... yeahhh I have a tiny crush, I think you made us soul tied or something." you just 'tut' at his remark but your face goes bright red at his confession, cheeks hurting from how much you're smiling.

"I'm touched. Got thee famous playboy hwang Hyunjin to like like me, not sure if it's a surprise but I like you too." You kiss his cheek before leading him to the couch as you sit on it, him flopping next to you. "Enough of the soppy talk for now or I'll get embarrassed, you can choose a movie while I get us a blanket." He just nods & you hand him the box of chocolates & he begins opening them as you scurry to your room to get your favourite fluffy blankets.

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You both end up watching a recommended Netflix romcom suggestion, both of you devouring your chocolates but you pay no mind to it.

Some point throughout, your legs end up swung over his as your head lays against his shoulder, him stroking your hair with one hand as the other hand caresses your thigh.

Every few minutes or so, you focus less on the movie & more on his touch as his hand slowly rises up your leg, then your thigh & his hand is now grazing against your inner thigh over your tight shorts, giving you goosebumps, which he doesn't miss.

This continues up until Hyunjin repositions himself, pushing your legs off him so he can lay down over your thighs, his view now sideways of the TV, not that he cares, not paying the slightest bit of attention anyway as you momentarily tense up beneath him.

You continue stroking his hair, sometimes digging your fingers into his scalp a bit to scratch it, making him let out a satisfied hum. You can't help but keep looking down at the beautiful man laying on you & you can't help but smile to yourself.

As if he can feel your eyes burning into his skull, he moves the blanket down your legs enough to expose your legs enough for him to begin planting little pecks on them, slightly tickilish but you don't miss the wetness now pooling under your shorts. "Stop teasing Hyune." you speak up, your voice quiet & he just chuckles.

"If you don't want me to tease, I won't complain if you lay back." he replies, not bothering to look up at you as his hand reaches to squeeze your thigh softly as he keeps giving your legs kisses, suckling at them slightly,

You think about what he says & you would be stupid to deny the chance, your pussy clenching around nothing. You lightly push his head up off you & he takes the hint, moving & you push the side of his arm, towards the edge of the couch & he looks at you slightly confused but does what he thinks you're hinting at, getting onto the floor right in front of you, looking up at you with his pretty eyes.

You give him a shy smile before you take it upon yourself to wriggle your shorts & underwear off, leaving your bottom half completely nude, biting your lip in anticipation.

"You really got this desperate since last time I saw you?" he teases & you put your hand in front of your cunt, covering it with how shy you've just started feeling but he is quick to pull it back off, looking at the small shimmer on your middle finger before licking it off in one go.

"Don't be shy, gorgeous. I've been just as desperate if not more, can I get a taste?" he says in a sweet voice, not looking away from you, stars in his eyes. "Please.. If you want to." you respond, hiding your face in your hands but he reaches up & swats your hands away yet again as his other hand begins to slowly drag through your folds, making your hips buck.

"Stop hiding, where's your confidence gone hmm? Do I make you that nervous? trust me, there's nothing I want more." he leans in & kisses right next to your lip before smirking at you & sinking back down onto the floor, blowing cold air onto your now soaking cunt, making your legs tense up & he tongues his cheek as he watches your face twitch.

He spreads your folds open, getting a better view of your hole, clenching around nothing before he licks a long, slow strip from your hole to the top of your clit, letting out a low groan in the process. "Taste better than anything y/n, I fucking swear." he says as he looks up at you for a split second. "eyes on me, if you look away I'll stop." he voices before digging in.

You do as he says & make eye contact with him as his mouth latches onto your cunt as he begins letting spit roll off his tongue, mixing with your juices just before slurping it back up, not afraid to make as much noise as the mixes of juices allow.

You weave your hand in his hair & play with his hair & scratch his scalp for him as he suctions his tongue onto your swollen button, both of you groaning at the same time.

"Hyune, so good" you whimper out, your breath shaky as your eyes struggle to stay open & you feel Hyunjin smile against you. He brings his fingers up to your clit before rubbing it in a steady rhythm as he lets go of before his tongue find its way into your opening before beginning to tongue fuck you & you throw your head back, your moans now louder than the TV still playing behind the both of you, your legs now closing around his head, not that he pays attention to that anyway, if anything he is enjoying it.

You begin to clench around his tongue which he remembers is your tell tail sign you're about to orgasm, your moans getting higher pitched & your grip on his hair getting tighter & he chooses to worm his tongue out of your hole before pinching your clit between his two fingers & dropping a glob of spit to it before giving it one more lick, smirking.

"I wanna try something I think you might like, turn over so you're facing your back to me, hunny." You huff at the beginning of a future orgasm beginning to appear suddenly bubbling away but you do as he says, slightly confused.

You get up on your knees & rest your elbows on the back of the couch, you now looking at the wall behind you. "Why am I fac-" you're cut off as Hyunjin spreads your cheeks & begins fondling them as he begins suckling on your pussy from behind, letting out a satisfied hum behind you as you begin kneading the couch until your fingers begin to ache, biting your lip to try hold back moans.

"G-gonna cum Hyunjin, keep g-going." you whimper, pushing yourself into his face, seeking even more from him if it's even possible & he gives you a quick slap on your ass as he removes himself from your cunt again, much to his own displeasure.

"Don't bite your lip y/nnie, I wanna hear you fully, Mkay?" he speaks from behind you as you yelp at the impact & he hums as he keeps kneading your ass, giving it a few kisses. "Your ass is to die for, you know that? Gonna taste it." Before you can even process what he says, your mind too full of lust to understand, he is letting a glob of spit fall past his lips & it landing right on your tightest hole.

You try jerk your hips away from him but he is quicker & pulls you back to him, keeping a tighter grip on your ass, keeping it spread as his tongue begins to graze over your pretty pucker, his eyes scrunching together as he smiles against you, tongue now drawing patterns on it as he lets go of one of your ass cheeks, going down to your leaking cunt again before entering two fingers, instantly finding the same G-spot that made you orgasm only a week or so ago.

Your hips buck at the new sensation & you let out a long mewl, letting your face fall onto the back of the couch as your knuckles turn white from how hard you're clenching on it.

Your pretty hole is clenching & pulsating on his tongue as he lets out a deep growl at your taste, so different compared to your cunt but still enjoyable, you're moans getting to an even higher pitch as his tongue enter inside you, swirling around as much as the tight ring will allow.

"Hyun- please l-let me cum, s-so- fuck!" you basically scream out, not even being able to find the strength to lift your head up to look at the man behind you as your pussy & ass clench around his fingers & tongue but right before you cum, Hyunjin pulls completely away, again & your legs shake from the painful pleasure of yet another stolen orgasm.

Hyunjin leans over so his clothed chest is touching your back & he tilts your head so he can see your pretty face & he sees your now tear soaked cheeks & your pretty, glossy eyes.

"Awww, pretty girl couldn't contain their tears, could you? I promise you can cum now, I don't have a condom on me though beautiful so do you just want my fingers hmm? or my tongue?" he questions as he strokes your now damp hair out of your face, pouting at you.

"J-just fuck me Hyune, j-just pull out." you whiimper back to him, your breath so unstable it's difficult to even push the words out. Hyunjin opens his mouth to re ask you, just to make sure he is hearing things right but you wiggle your naked ass against him & he bucks his hips before just nodding before kissing your shoulder & then shimmying his pants & underwear down, freeing his pretty cock.

He spits onto his cock, pumping it into his hand a few times, letting out a hushed groan before he aligns his tip with your pussy, rubbing himself against it a few times to coat his tip in your juices before prodding his tip against your hole, before pushing just the tip inside.

"I'm still gonna be gentle, it's only your second time, tell me if this position is uncomfortable." he speaks behind you & as you mumble out an 'okay' while your face now being mushed against the cushion again, he pushes his hips forward very slowly until he buries himself to the hilt, you both letting out a moan in unison.

He stills inside you, trying to not cum instantly from how hot your walls feel without the restriction of the condom he wore last time, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he waits for your signal to continue.

Your breath staggers as he pushes forward, the stretch being a bit painful but no way near as painful as last time & after a minute or so, you push yourself on his cock experimentally, making you both hiss.

"You- please move, mak-make me cum Hyune, p-please." you elongate the last word, turning your head to the side so he can actually hear you. He takes a deep breath & pulls out half way before pushing back in, the both of you letting out a whine as his balls slap against your clit, making it even more intense for you.

Hyunjin sets a steady rhythm, lightly using the tips of his finger nails to add sensation to your back, tickling it but also feeling nice as you know it will leave those pretty little red marks later on. Both of your moans & whines fill the small apartment, not even thinking about how your neighbours can one hundred percent hear you.

"Y/n yo-you're too tight, s-so warm." he breathes out, lifting his leg & standing it on the couch for a better angle as he keeps rutting into you, leaning over your back again to kiss your cheek, your moans going straight into his ears.

"To- so big hy-hyune, pleas-e lemme c-cum." you whimper, your eyes scrunching closed, the ends of Hyunjins hair tickling your face as he begins to nibble on your earlobe, your cunt clenching impossibly tight around his cock, almost suffocating it.

"c-cum with me baby, h-hold on for me." he groan back as he tilts his neck into an uncomfortable position just so he can kiss your lips. His tongue instantly enters your mouth & you suckle on it, tasting the remaining taste of your juices from what he hasn't already repeatedly swallowed, making you moan in content.

Hyunjin speeds up his pace slightly & your G-spot loves this, making your legs almost give out on the spot as your brain turns into mush. "I-in my s-stomach Hyun-deep." you babble out against his lips, barely even knowing your own name at this point.

As Hyunjin stands back upright after giving your shoulder a few pecks, his phone begins to ring. Your eyes spot his phone on the other end of the couch, where he was sitting earlier but he reaches over & declines it before shutting his phone completely off, throwing it to the side, his pace not slowing once.

You don't bother questioning it, instead focusing on the noises of your slick & his balls connecting together mixed with the sweat of the both of you, sloppy clapping noises of your skin connecting filling the room, your legs begin to give out as Hyunjin worms his fingers down to your clit yet again before rubbing it frantically.

"In your s-stomach hmm? You can cum for me angel, n-not gonna last, too w-wet n tight." he squabbles, breathing frantically & this i all you need to hear as your entire body tenses up as finally, your orgasm hits you like a brick wall & you let out a squeal & Hyunjin has to grip onto your hips as his life depend on it in order for you to not flop & slip off the couch.

Your noises & the way your pussy flutters around him is just too much for him to handle & as much as he doesn't want to, he pulls himself out of your wet, hot walls as his cum spurts down your ass & back, throwing his head back as his cock quite literally pulsates as his balls empty, a high pitched whimper leaving his lips, breathing staggered.

He comes back to his body quicker than you do & he helps reposition you so you're fully laying on the couch, trying to make sure his cum doesn't get onto any other surface.

He grabs his underwear & wipes the cum off your back in a comfortable silence, slightly twitching as he wipes it off. He leans over your back again before kissing your earlobe. "Did so well, so proud of you, still so pretty for me despite being sticky with sweat." you both weakly laugh as you turn onto your back before using the ounce of strength you have left to pull on his wrist.

"cuddle." is all you say as you pull on him until he lays on top of you, half his weight dangling off the arm of the couch as he lays his head on your chest, listening to your still racing heartbeat & he can't help but feel secure.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You both sit like this for a while, talking to one another about what you both spoke about in a bit more detail & also just talk to each other about things you don't know about one another, things like family pets, favourite colours, favourite brands etc.

Hyunjin ends up powering his phone back on & you are both just scrolling through his for you page, when you remember his phone ringing. "Quick question hyune, who was it that called you? If it was important you coulda stopped to answer." you ask him, not lifting your eyes from the video playing on his phone screen, not really thinking too much of it.

"Don't stress it, it was just someone I'm not gonna be speaking to anymore." he replies in s tired voice, still scrolling. His reply slightly confusing you. "Who? I don't mean to be nosey or anything but now i'm curious." you respond back, your fingers in his hair now pausing.

Without saying anything, he switches apps, onto his call log & it's Lisas name at the top.. nineteen missed calls. He just sighs as he presses on the 'more' option before deleting her number & deleting the Imessage conversation without even bothering to read her spam of texts, yelling, crying & cussing him out before switching apps back onto tiktok without saying a word & you just blush, your hands cupping his cheeks from above, your thumbs just below his eyes.

"You're cute." you say as you squeeze them playfully & he just 'tut's but still, he melts himself into your touch.

I'm not completely sure if I want to leave this story as a two parter orrrrrr do a third n final part but to everyone wanting a happier ending here you all are!

Tags: @troublemaker02 @ismokeeweed @lmhcats @isagerada @tsunderelino

#hyunjin skz #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin #skz smut #stray kids #straykids x reader #straykids #stray kids smut #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz #skz hyunjin #smut #kpop smut #fanfic

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lovebugism · 10 months ago

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I love your writing <3 I saw “he so likes her” on the enemies to lovers but I so saw it pairing with the “me? I wouldn’t say I was flirting.” On the denial of feelings list. Eddie absolutely oblivious to the heart eyes he’s making as he pulls his hair in front of his face while chatting together

ty angel! hope you like it :D — eddie munson visits you at work every day, but not because he likes you (enemies to lovers-ish, fluff, 1.1k)

You hear Eddie before you see him. The clinking of his silver rings, the swishing of his leather jacket, the thudding of his worn sneakers. His musky cologne swaddles you in a cloud of his subtle scent before he’s even there. You’re smiling about it all before you mean to.

Crouched in the X-rated section of Family Video, you restock the vulgar printed tapes and glance up at the boy towering over you. Eddie’s smiling, too — perhaps bigger than he realizes.

“Don’t tell me you came all this way to keep me company, Munson,” you tease with narrowed eyes.

“No,” the boy scoffs, a little less than convincing. He props his shoulder against the metal shelf and crosses his arms over his chest. “I have much better things to do with my Friday nights. Trust me.”

Your knees creak in protest when you rise to stand before him. You cross your arms to resemble his stance and try to be normal about your forearms brushing his. “Do you?” you lilt, obviously sarcastic.

“Yeah,” he nods with a crooked smile on his pretty pink mouth. “I could give you their names.”

“Spare me,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and spinning on your heel. Eddie follows you like a lost puppy to the front counter. “You know, if you’re gonna flirt with me, maybe try not to mention other girls. I think that’s, like, rule number one.”

Eddie’s face swirls at your words. The cartoonish look of confusion makes you smile as you round the checkout station. He forces a chuckle and props his elbows on the countertop, leaning over it in a desperate attempt to be closer to you.

“There are no—” he starts, then cuts himself off. There are no other girls, he’d say if he weren’t a total coward. But, for the sake of keeping his cards to his chest, he settles on, “—I’m not flirting with you.”

Your brow arches in a playful look of inquiry. “No?”

Eddie almost caves, then. It’s almost like you want him to say yes — to admit that he’s been flirting with you this whole time because he’s loved you since the moment he met you. It would be the truth, anyway. One that he’s spent over a year shying from.

“No,” he echoes and shakes his wild head, surprising himself with his own self-control. “No, I’m— We’re just— We’re having a conversation. ‘Cause, you know, we’re friends. I guess.”

His face scrunches like there’s something sour on his tongue. He doesn’t even like the taste of his own words.

You squint. “Do all of your friendly conversations typically include making heart eyes at the other person?” you joke with a poorly held-back grin.

Eddie falters for a moment, knowing he’s long been found out. He decides to lie anyway. Dig the hole deeper, as it were. “Yeah, actually,” he nods. “You’ve seen the way I look at Steve, haven’t you?”

You laugh before you mean to. The sunshine sound sputters up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. Eddie must not realize how he often looks at Steve The Hair Harrington — with softly squinted eyes and gently furrowed brows — like he can never quite understand what the fuck the boy is talking about.

“Right,” you nod, still giggling.

Eddie smiles at the pretty sound. The spearmint breath of your laughter fans across his cheek at the close proximity — one which neither of you seems eager to part from. “Yeah, so… Don’t let it go to your head, alright? There’s no flirting here.”

So you drove twenty minutes across town in a half-broken-down van to have a serious conversation? you’d ask if you felt like going around in circles.

Instead, you just nod. “Noted...”

“Now, tell me,” he starts, tilting his pretty head until his curls bunch at his shoulder. “What should me and my number of escapades watch for the evening? You know, as the resident expert and all?”

You laugh at the absurdity of his question. “I don’t know. Just— choose something,” you murmur unenthusiastically.

“I want you to choose for me,” he pouts.

“Why?” you retort, leaning against the counter to lessen the cavernous distance.

The sudden closeness has a very obvious effect on the boy across from you. His adam’s apple bobs as his tongue darts across his bottom lip. You’re close enough to kiss now. He can almost taste you.

“So you can play it as background noise and think of me while you and this very fictitious person make out on your couch?”

“Well… I’ll probably be thinking about you either way, so…” Eddie answers when his senses return to him, shrugging with a stupid, lopsided grin. “Whether you recommend something or not doesn’t really matter.”

The look he gives you makes your stomach whirl. His eyes, made of melted chocolate, get all squishy at the edges when he looks at you. Something warm and fond swims in his gaze, speckles along his flushed cheeks, and sparkles in his smile. It’s so stupidly sincere for a boy who can’t seem to take anything seriously. The notion all but stabs you in the chest.

“You’re doing it again, you know?” you tease.

His fluffy brows pinch together. “Doing what?”

“The heart eyes thing.”

“There is no thing!” he insists with a loud, boyish laugh. “I’m just— I’m just looking at you! Is that a crime?”

“Just sayin’,” you singsong with an absentminded shrug.

Your gaze glimmers with knowing and something close to adoration as it flits up and down his form. Eddie squirms beneath your prying eyes. His ringed hands rise to his hair, gathering the untamed curls and hiding his blushing face behind them.

“Here,” he mumbles behind his palms and chestnut locks. “Is this better for you?”

You giggle at his antics, slightly grieving his pretty face. “Much,” you nod despite yourself.

Steve and Robin watch the strange encounter from afar. They peer over the Action/Adventure aisle they’re supposed to be restocking — equal parts distracted and nosey. The boy’s scruffy face twists as he watches Eddie try hopelessly to flirt with you. “This is disgusting,” he murmurs under his breath.

“Do you think he knows?” Robin laughs, deep and gritty, as she stands on the tips of her toes to see over the metal shelf.

“Knows what?”

“That he’s obsessed with her?”

“Hell no! Look at him—” Steve scoffs, jutting his chin to the wild-haired boy across the room.

Eddie’s got his rings all tangled in his hair now. His cheeks glow red as you help unknot the silver jewelry from his curls. He’s visibly embarrassed, but he can’t stop beaming at you. It’s borderline gag-worthy.

“—He’s got no fucking clue.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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moonstruckme · 9 months ago

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Hi love, if you're up to it could you write about bf Sirius teasing reader about something, and it actually hurts her feelings quite a lot? maybe she's always thought she's to shy for him, and he teases her about being quiet and it just hurts so much that he sees her just like everyone else does? like she thought he understood her, but instead he's teasing her about something she's rlly insecure abt ?

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: reader has leg hair

Sirius Black x shy!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You hear Sirius’ ruckus before he’s anywhere near you. Down the hall, shouting and laughter, and then your boyfriend’s voice: “Yeah, I’m on the lookout for my bird. She likes to hide herself away, let me know if you see her?”

Your face warms, humiliation a prickly, unpleasant thing beneath your skin. The kinder part of you thinks for a second to stick your head out into the hallway so he can stop looking for you, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. A few seconds more, and it doesn’t matter. Sirius twists the handle of the door to your refuge, his amused gray eyes finding you in an instant.

“Hey there, sweetness.” His voice is smooth and easy. He closes the door behind him, settling down across from you on the carpeted floor like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Lily told me you went to go get another drink, but I think you might’ve gotten turned around. The kitchen’s just down the hall.”

“Took a wrong turn,” you say sheepishly. Sirius only smiles.

“My shy girl,” he croons, reaching forward and brushing his thumb over the soft hairs just below your kneecap. “If you were nervous, you could’ve just come and found me, sweet thing. I told you where I’d be.”

He had, but you couldn’t have gone to him. You already feel like such a child.

Sirius had been obviously thrilled with how well you were getting on with his friends tonight. It wasn’t like you hadn’t met them before, but this time Sirius had intentionally maneuvered you so you’d sat closest to Lily and Remus, the least obtrusive of his lot, and it had been going well. You’d been contributing to the conversation more than you were used to, encouraged by Lily and Remus’ gentle friendliness and your boyfriend’s pleased looks. After a while, James had cajoled the majority of the group into playing beer pong in the other room. Remus had stood to go, and Sirius with him, pulling his hand from yours and checking you’d be okay if he left you with Lily.

The way he’d asked it, “Think you can manage on your own for a bit, gorgeous?” all light and teasing and infused with laughter, you’d had no choice but to say yes. Even if you suddenly didn’t feel very confident you could manage, and in the end, you hadn't.

You’d let Sirius’ silly, thoughtless question get to you. Lily hadn’t even seemed to notice what he’d said, but your face had burned all the way to the tips of your ears, and all her kind, patient attempts at conversation were wasted on you. You forgot what you were going to say, stumbled over your words, apologized and awkward-laughed until you’d finally said you were going for another drink and not come back. You’d found this, a guest bedroom as far as you can tell, and hunkered down. You really hope she hasn’t taken it personally.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you tell Sirius now, your voice so soft it’s a miracle he hears. Outside of your sanctuary, the music turns up and shouting begins, the lyrics to a song everyone knows but you.

“You could never bother me,” he promises. He’s lowered his volume to match yours. “I know how you get.”

Shame burns hot and painful behind your eyes. “It’s not—” your voice catches, and Sirius’ thumb stills on your knee. You try again. “It’s not something I do on purpose.”

“Hey, I know.” He scoots closer to you, setting his hands on your tented knees and propping his chin atop them so he’s looking at your face with just a few inches between you. His eyebrows are furrowed. “I know, sweetness. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, you know? Just that I don’t mind taking care of you when you’re feeling nervous or anything like that. You can always come find me.”

It’s hard to avoid Sirius’ gaze when he’s this close, but you manage, looking down at the carpet past your thigh. “It felt a little bit like you minded when you left to go with James and Remus,” you say quietly.

He tilts his head, steadfast in his eye contact even if you won’t reciprocate. It feels like he’s taking an inventory of your reactions as they flit across your face. You wish you were better at hiding them from him. “That upset you?” he asks, genuinely curious. “You wanted me to stay?”

“No,” you say. “Well, yes, but that’s not…it didn’t upset me. You shouldn’t need to stay with me all of the time.”

“I don’t mind,” Sirius interjects.

You look up, and he rewards you with a half-happy uptilt of his lips. His expression is kind and open now, not a lick of teasing about him.

“I don’t need you to stay with me,” you clarify. “It was just the way you asked. It made it sound like I can’t manage without you.”

“Oh.” Sirius’ brows twitch together, recalling. One of his pinkies starts to stroke absentmindedly up and down on your thigh. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Did I embarrass you?”

“A little,” you whisper, shoulders hunching as your body tries to shrink away from him. “But it’s more that I didn’t realize you thought that.”

“I don’t,” he says quickly, voice soft but ardent. “I really don’t, honestly. It was a joke, I was just…I was being stupid. I shouldn’t have made light of it. I know you’re fine on your own, angel, that was just my dumb way of trying to ask if you wanted me to stay and trying to keep it light. I wasn’t trying to tease you.”

You tug on your bottom lip with your teeth. “It’s okay if you meant it,” you say.

“I didn’t,” Sirius promises. “Really, I swear. Can I—can I touch you? Say no if you don’t want it.”

“You’re already touching me.” Some amusement makes its way into your tone. Sirius smiles, but doesn’t move until you say, “Yeah, you can.”

His hands plant themselves on either side of your face, and then he’s jamming your knees apart with his torso, stamping his lips to your face.

“M’sorry, my sweet girl,” he mumbles, mushing the words into the side of your nose. “I was being a prat, and I’m sorry. I can’t believe I made you feel bad.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, smiling now. Your face is still burning hot, but the cause of that warmth is growing murky.

“No, it wasn’t nice to make fun.” He pulls back, fondness mingling with solemnity in his gray irises. “I didn’t realize it’d come off that way, but I won’t do it again, I mean it.”

“Thanks,” you reply just as sincerely. “I’m okay now, really.”

“Yeah?” He kisses between your brows. “Okay enough to go back out there, or do you wanna go home?”

You think on this for a minute. “I should probably talk to Lily for a bit before leaving. I feel bad for abandoning her.”

“She’s alright, gorgeous,” Sirius reassures you, but offers you his hands. You take them, and he hoists you up. “We’ll grab you a drink on the way, say you got sidetracked. I mean, that’s basically what happened.”

You roll your eyes, leaning into his side as he starts for the kitchen.

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catherinnn · 1 month ago

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Ok, I have a cute/silly fic request:

Can I get a story where everyone in Hellfire club knows that the reader and Eddie have feelings for each other, so they each come up their own plans to get them together (whether or not Erica is included in this I'll leave up to you). It seems as though each of their plans fail, until they see reader and Eddie out on a date together. They all get so excited that they were successful that the reader and Eddie don't have the heart to tell them they've actually been dating for a while and wanted to wait before telling them. So they just let them believe it was all them.

The Plan Totally Worked!

a/n: Thank you for requesting again babe, i hope you enjoy this! I'm catching up with requests now that have more free time, so if anyone has any, please feel free to write me!

words: 1k

masterlist

“Guess who?” you felt two hands cover your eyes as you were at your locker.

Behind you stands Eddie smirking with a confused Dustin by his side. They were discussing which Lord of the Rings book is their favorite and why, when Eddie ran up to you as soon as he saw you, forgetting all about their topic.

“It’s easy to guess when you’re the one wearing a billion rings” you tease him. He moves his hands as you turn around.

“I forgot you were so smart” he says, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Hey boys” you greet them.

“Hi sweetheart, you look very pretty today” Eddie gives you the cutest grin.

“Hi” Dustin greets you, still pondering about the change of demeanor Eddie suddenly had when he saw you.

“Yeah, obviously he likes her,” Lucas says. “you actually never noticed how flirty and playful he gets when he sees her?”

“Yeah, I mean they do flirt constantly. But they’re still just friends, aren’t they?” Dustin thinks.

“Yeah, I think so” Mike agrees.

“Do you think she likes him too?” Dustin asks.

“She wouldn’t flirt back as much as she does if she didn’t. I say she does” Lucas says as if he’s a relationship expert, which makes Mike roll his eyes.

“Why do we even care?” he asks.

“They’re our friends, and obviously they are too chicken to make a move! We have to help them!” Dustin says, feeling very motivated.

They begin brainstorming a series of plans to get the two of you together.

Like the secret date:

Dustin invited you to meet him at an ice cream shop, he said the rest of the group were coming as well. He also asked you to dress up nice which sounded very random.

Funny enough, none of the guys could make it, only Eddie, who was just as confused as you. Either way, you ordered your ice creams and sat at a table together.

The three boys were watching from the other side of the window of the place, giving each other high fives since the plan seemed to work. That’s when they see Steve and Robin also entering the ice cream shop and joining you two, ruining your ‘date’.

What the boys didn’t know is that since Dustin had told you they were all coming, you also took the liberty to invite Steve and Robin, thinking that you’ll have a nice afternoon all together.

Since that didn’t seem to work, they had to move to plan B:

“Wayne’s birthday is coming up, isn’t it?” Dustin asks Eddie in the middle of lunch.

“Yeah, it is. How did you know?”

“I just remembered you mentioned it… Do you know what to get him?” Dustin acts.

“Like a gift? I was thinking maybe a new hat or another mug” Eddie shrugs.

“Oh come on, that is so bad!” Dustin says and Eddie frowns. “You could do something more meaningful, like bake him a cake!”

When Dustin says that you choke on your drink. “Sorry, I just imagined Eddie baking” you say laughing.

“Yeah, I don’t know what caused the impression that I could ever bake a cake for someone, but it is far from the reality” Eddie tells Dustin.

“Well, why don’t you help him? You like baking, don’t you?” Dustin asks you.

“Yeah, sometimes” you say.

“That’s perfect! And it’s a much better gift!” Dustin sells it.

“It would be a nicer gift than just another hat” you agree.

“You’ll help me? Because I’m lost if I have to do it alone” Eddie asks you.

“Of course I’ll help, I’ll come over to your after school” you say and Eddie nods.

Dustin thinks this is it, there is no way that this didn’t work. He can imagine you telling Eddie how to do everything and then helping him because he’s just not doing it right. Maybe Eddie gets playful and starts teasing you, putting flour on your face and then a battle starts where you end up all messy. Maybe the giggles stop and you realize you’re very close together and then you can’t hide it anymore and you finally kiss.

So, just imagine his surprise when the next day, he doesn’t see you two kissing by your locker when he gets to school. Instead, he finds you two chatting as casual as ever.

“So… how did the baking go?” he asks.

“Really good, she bossed me around all afternoon but we ended up with a decent cake. Wayne loved it” Eddie says.

“Oh, that easy?” Dustin asks, surprised.

“Well, when you have a professional chef helping, it’s easy enough” Eddie teases you.

“Oh shut up, he was surprisingly good too. Maybe it was the motivation he had to then eat the cake” you say.

“It was amazing” Eddie nods.

“That’s good news” Dustin says, still disappointed. “Hey, I was gonna say… you look really nice today” he tells you.

“Aw, thanks-”

“Doesn’t she look nice, Eddie?” Dustin pushes him.

“Uh, yeah. Well, she always does” he says, confused.

“Dude, leave it alone. If it didn’t happen already after all those tries, it’s not gonna happen” Lucas tells Dustin. The two of them are on their bikes, on their way to Mike’s. “Hey, isn’t that Eddie’s van?” He sees it parked in front of a restaurant.

“Oh, yeah, it is! Is he in this place? It seems fancy!”

When they peek in the window they find the two of you cuddled up. You seemed to be chatting and giggling until you kissed.

“Wow! It worked! The plan totally worked!” Dustin cheers.

“Holy shit man! It totally did!”

If they only knew what was actually happening inside the restaurant:

“Happy anniversary, princess” Eddie smiles at you.

“Happy anniversary, baby. I can’t believe it’s been a year already!” you say pleased.

"So... you two have anything you would like to share?" Dustin asks you on Monday at lunch.

“The best year of my life” he flirts before kissing you, he really gets all mushy and corny when you’re alone. You decided to not be those kinds of couples that make out or cuddle in front of all their friends, avoiding PDA as much as you could to not make anyone uncomfortable.

"Umm... no?" you say, confused.

"We can tell us, we saw you two lovebirds!" Lucas chimes in.

"Saw us where?" Eddie asks, just as confused.

"On your date last Friday!"

"Oh yeah, we had dinner" Eddie smiles.

"My plan totally worked!" Dustin says.

"Hey! I helped too!" Lucas complains.

"What plan?" you two go back to confusion.

"You really never noticed? I set you two up! I noticed how much you like each other over these last few months and took control since you were never gonna!" he explains smugly.

"What do you- Ouch!" Eddie starts but you pinch him so he stops.

"You set us up?! That's why you were acting so weird?" you smile when you realize what he was trying to do.

"You're welcome" Dustin throws himself flowers.

"Well, we owe it to you, kid" Eddie says sarcastically.

"What are you on about? They've been dating for a year!" Gareth burstes his bubble.

"Wait what?!"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things

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pedroscurls · 3 months ago

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Absolutely no obligation to answer if you aren't taking requests, but could I ask for Hugh x reader? Like Blake and Ryan trying hard to play wingman for them both at an event, only to find out the two have been quietly together/hooking up for a few weeks? Whether it be angsty or fluffy is your choice! 🙂

our little secret (one-shot)

summary: ryan and blake try to set you and hugh up, but little do they know, you've already been secretly seeing each other. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warnings: smut (18+, mdni) - unprotected p in v (creampie oops, be safe folks), fingering, oral - f receiving, hugh bends you over 🙂‍↕️, no use of y/n. word count: 2.7k a/n: i'm catching up to all the requests that have been sitting in my askbox, so thank you for waiting on this! i know you said it could be angsty or fluffy, but it actually instead became smutty lmao. i had a lot of fun writing this lol - love the sneaking around and eventually getting caught trope 🤭 as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

The entire night, you and Hugh steal glances from across the room. Either he’s with Ryan or some other group of people that he’s talking to and you’re either with Blake or on the dance floor dancing with her. You can feel the pull you have towards Hugh, yearning to be pulled into his arms but you have to refrain. You have to resist.

No one knows that you’re seeing each other, that you’ve been secretly having a very intimate relationship with him. Neither of you are ready for everyone else to know, so you try to keep your distance. Try not to make it so obvious that you just want him.

“I think you and Hugh should go talk,” Blake grins, nudging you with her arm.

You shrug nonchalantly, doing your best to look uninterested. “I don’t know, Blake.”

“Just one conversation,” she says. “You never know what can happen.”

Oh, you know exactly what would happen. If you and Hugh get a chance to speak tonight, you know that you wouldn’t be able to hide this secret any longer. Especially since the entire time so far, you’ve been trying to think of ways to sneak away from Blake and see Hugh. It’s such a busy event, such a huge party that even if you did try to sneak away with Hugh, someone would see the both of you.

And neither of you need that right now.

“If we somehow get to talking, then sure. Right now, I’m just focused on me.”

Blake narrows her eyes. “I can bring him over here and–”

“Blake,” you interrupt. “Seriously, I’m okay.”

Blake sighs. “Fine, okay. But if he comes up to you on his own, you’ll at least talk to him?”

“Sure. Would be rude of me to just leave if he tries to have a conversation with me,” you point out.

“Ryan and I just think you’d be so good together,” she replies.

“You think I’d be good with anyone,” you laugh.

“That’s because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Aw, Blake… It’s a bit early for all these compliments, don’t you think?” you tease.

Blake rolls her eyes. “You’re right. I usually need a couple of more drinks before I get to that point.”

“Okay, ha ha. Can we go back out there and dance?”

“Yes, baby, let’s go.” She takes your hand and leads you to the dancefloor, glancing over her shoulder to see Ryan and Hugh staring at the both of you.

—

“So…” Ryan smirks, watching the way Hugh’s eyes linger on your frame. “You obviously think she’s–”

“No,” he interrupts, pulling his eyes away from you. When Hugh saw you for the first time that night, he had realized just how difficult it would be to keep things a secret. You look so beautiful, the dress clinging to every curve, and he wanted nothing more than to just take you away from this party so that he could have you to himself.

But Hugh tries to remember the conversation you had with him. This has to be a secret for a little while longer, just to see if this is more than just physical attraction. Hugh agreed, but the more time he spent with you, the more he wanted to get to know you. The sex was amazing, but the conversations you had with each other afterwards were just as great.

“Oh come on!” Ryan chuckles. “You should at least talk to her.”

“Not interested,” Hugh lies. “Besides, I already talked to her at your dinner party. She’s nice, sweet, but that’s all it is.”

Ryan arches a brow. “Seemed like you two hit it off that night.”

“Just being polite,” Hugh replies.

“Well, I think you should go and talk to her. See what can happen.”

“Ryan, no.” His eyes deviate to you and he tries to keep his eyes above your shoulder, but he can’t help but let his eyes take in your frame, your hips swaying effortlessly to the rhythm of the song. Clearing his throat, Hugh shakes his head and instead turns his back to the dancefloor.

“Let me be your wingman, Hugh,” he says excitedly. “All we gotta do is walk over there, dance a bit, and then–”

“I’m gonna get some fresh air.” Hugh interjects with a sigh. He knows if he stands here another minute that he’s going to break and he’s going to give in to Ryan because he wants you so badly. Even as he’s walking away from Ryan, he turns to look over his shoulder to see your eyes glued onto him. He gives you a subtle nod and steps outside, glancing around to see that no one but him is there.

With a sigh, he runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh. Hugh likes you a lot and he’s become tired of keeping this, keeping you a secret. His mind begins to drift when he feels a gentle hand on his back and he turns to look down at you, a smile immediately lining his lips.

“Hey there, stranger,” you say quietly.

Even under the moonlight, you look so beautiful. Hugh reaches out for your hand, yearning to pull you into him and give you a kiss. “You’re really killing me with that dress you got on.”

“You like?” you smile, twirling in front of him.

“Oh, I love it,” Hugh winks. “Would look better if it was on the floor.”

“Oh, you’re naughty tonight.” you let out a quiet giggle. “What would you do if I told you I wasn’t wearing any panties?”

Hugh’s eyes widen and his gaze darkens. “Are you?”

You shake your head slowly. “Nope.”

“And you’re calling me the naughty one,” Hugh whispers, taking a step closer to you as his other hand moves to your hip, bunching up your dress in a tight fist. “Ryan’s been trying to get me to talk to you.”

“Oh?” you ask quietly, hand moving up to rest on his chest. “Blake’s been doing the same. I think they’re trying to play matchmaker.”

“They don’t know we’ve been seeing each other for the last few weeks,” Hugh chuckles, eyes drifting to your lips. “But seeing you tonight… It’s been really difficult to keep this a secret.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I see how the other women are looking at you tonight and I can’t blame them.”

“Not looking at them though.”

“But if you want to, you know you can… We aren’t really exclusive and–”

“I want to be,” Hugh interrupts. “I know we’re still testing out the waters, seeing if this is only physical, but I like you.”

“You know, I didn’t expect to have this conversation tonight…” you say quietly.

“Am I misreading this?” Hugh sighs, pulling away from you but you pull him back to you.

“No, I like you too. I just didn’t–” you bite your lower lip. “I just didn’t want to scare you away if I told you that I want this. That I want you. Only you.”

Hugh tries to hide the smile from appearing on his lips. He looks into your eyes and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“I do…”

Hugh then steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Good because I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your hand moves up to gently grip the lapel of his jacket. “Please,” you whisper. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night and–”

Hugh leans down and presses his lips against yours, hand gripping your hip. He wastes no time in moving his lips with yours, hand slowly dipping lower and lower to your backside. You gasp against his lips, reaching behind you to grab his wrist.

“Mmm, not yet,” you whisper, pulling away slowly.

Hugh’s about to lean in to give you another kiss when you both hear Blake and Ryan’s voices.

“I fucking knew it!” Ryan quips, finger pointing in your direction.

“And here we were, trying to get you two together!” Blake laughs.

You lean against Hugh whose arm still remains wrapped around you. “Surprise?”

Blake rolls her eyes playfully and walks up to you, pulling you into a hug. “Surprise indeed.”

Ryan grins, clapping a hand on Hugh’s shoulder. “So, how long?”

“Since the night of your dinner party,” Hugh chuckles.

“You fucker,” Ryan laughs.

“We wanted to keep it a secret,” you say quietly, reaching out for Hugh’s hand. “But–”

“I like her a lot,” Hugh interrupts, lacing his hand with yours. “Didn’t want to hide this anymore.”

“We’re so happy for the both of you,” Blake smiles.

“Thanks, Blake.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, I owe my girl a dance,” Hugh winks. He leads you back inside of the party and wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

Blake and Ryan join the both of you and once on the dance floor, Hugh turns you around in his arms, hands moving to rest on your hips as your bodies begin to sway to the music. It’s dark and the music is blaring, but your sole focus is on Hugh who’s staring directly back at you.

He runs his hands along your sides and back down to your hips, bringing you flush against his front as you feel the length of manhood hardening beneath his pants. You bite your lower lip, arms coming up to snake around his shoulders and link at the base of his neck.

Hugh dips his head lower, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. He moves a hand to your lower back as the crowd of people surrounding the both of you fades into the background. He gently nips at your lower lip, hearing you quietly whimper. His lips move from your own to your jawline, coming up to gently nibble on your ear as he whispers huskily.

“I need you bad, baby.”

“But the party–”

“How about we leave early?” Hugh runs his hand up your back and down to rest above your backside.

“What about Blake and Ryan?”

Hugh looks over at the other couple who look to be in their own little world and he chuckles, turning his attention back to you. “I don’t think they’d mind one bit if we leave.”

You bite your lower lip and then nod, leaning up to peck his lips. “Take me home then, Hugh.”

“Yes,” he groans lowly. “I’ve been wanting to take you home the moment I saw you tonight. Let’s go.”

—

You don’t make it far once you and Hugh enter his place. He’s on you like a starved animal, hands running along your frame, lips lightly attacking your neck and shoulder. You can feel his length pressing into you from behind as he shrugs off his blazer.

“You make me crazy, baby,” Hugh growls, gently grazing the skin at your neck with his teeth. “Like a fucking teenager all over again.”

“Hugh, baby,” you whimper. “Wait, we should go upstairs and–”

“No,” he groans against you. “Right here.” Hugh bends you over the back of his large couch, immediately lifting the ends of your dress to your hips, giving him a clear view of your backside and your glistening slit. “You weren’t lying… no panties.”

“Have I ever lied to you?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

Hugh glances up at you briefly before he drops to his knees in front of you. His large hands come up to spread your cheeks apart as he licks a strip along your sex, groaning against you.

“Hugh!” You exclaim, hand reaching back to curl into his hair.

“Mmm,” Hugh pulls back and looks at your sex, gaze darkening at the sight of you glistening for him. “Gonna have my taste now, baby.”

Before you could even answer, Hugh leans in and buries his face between your legs. He doesn’t bother to slow down, groaning against your sex as you feel his tongue in your most sensitive areas. You’re close, knowing that you aren’t going to last that long with the way Hugh’s going.

He pulls back momentarily, chin glistening with your arousal as he immediately slides two fingers into your tight heat. Hugh then leans back in and sucks your clit in time with pumping his fingers in and out of you and you’re so wet that the sounds mix in with your loud moans. It’s so lewd and obscene and it only spurs him on even further.

Your grip in his hair tightens as you feel your walls begin to tremble. When you feel a tightness begin to build in the pit of your stomach, you grip his hair even tighter, holding him firmly against you. Your eyes clamp shut as Hugh continues his assault on you, urging you through your orgasm.

Hugh then pulls back and stands up between your legs, his hands coming to undo his belt and zipper of his pants. His fingers are wet with your slick and he lifts to his mouth and sucks on it as his eyes stare directly at your throbbing heat.

Once he pulls his manhood out, he gives it a few strokes before notching his tip at your entrance. He feels you flinch at the sudden touch, smirking to himself.

“Hugh, wait. I need a minute.” You tell him, trying to turn around but Hugh keeps you firmly bent over the couch.

“Ah baby, you can handle it.” He grins, running his tip along the length of your sex, catching your hole repeatedly.

“Hugh,” you plead, reaching back for him but he just grabs your wrists and places them firmly against your lower back. With his free hand, he slowly slides into your tight heat, the slickness of your arousal immediately coating his length with each thrust forward.

He releases his hold on manhood and instead moves to place it on the couch, gripping it tightly. Hugh fills you to the brim, groaning to himself at the feeling of your walls wrapped tightly around him.

“See, told you,” he grins, pulling his hips back. Hugh pulls out to his tip, glancing down to see his length slick with your wetness. Then, he slowly slides back in and grips the couch even tighter, not wanting to leave any bruises on your wrists that remain firm in his grasp.

“Fuck!” You moan aloud. Your walls are already so sensitive and you know that you won’t last long with the way Hugh’s picking up his pace.

“God, you look good like this,” Hugh groans, thrusts moving faster as he repeatedly slams into you. You feel every inch, every throbbing vein and when he firmly slams into you, you move your ass back against him and feel the hair at his base provide the perfect friction against your clit.

He pulls back only enough to see you slide back into him, watching your ass shake and jiggle as you use him to reach yet another orgasm. Hugh knows that he’s getting closer, knows that he’s about to come but he tries to hold off because the sight of you using him like this for your own pleasure just turns him on even more.

“Baby,” Hugh groans. “I’m gonna come and I–”

“Inside,” you whimper.

Hugh feels a sudden rush overcome him at your confirmation and he releases his hold on your wrists to place both hands on your hips. He groans and begins to thrust back into you, his skin slapping loudly against yours as he chases his own release.

“Hugh, baby,” you moan, moving your own hands to rest over his as pleasure washes over you. Your body feels limp, feels like you can just fall asleep bent over this couch, but Hugh’s sharp thrusts work you through your own orgasm.

After a couple of thrusts, Hugh’s hips begin to stutter and you feel his warmth begin to fill you up. His grip on your hips tighten almost painfully as he empties himself into you, every last fucking drop.

When he pulls out, Hugh can’t help the sight of his release slowly begin to trickle out of you and down the inside of your leg. He smiles to himself, gently loosening his hold on you as he turns you around to face him.

“I don’t think I can walk upstairs,” you tease.

Hugh smirks proudly. “Good, because I don’t think I’m done with you yet, baby.”

—-

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fic #real person fic #real person fanfic #real person fiction #rpf #hugh jackman requests #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #story: our little secret

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dylsluvrs · 1 month ago

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ryomen sukuna x reader | college au [18+]

touchdown ch3 party rock anthem

ᡣ𐭩 pairing. football player! sukuna x journalism major! reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary. ryomen sukuna. your best friend’s frat brother. he’s tall, hot, suave, not to mention the best thing to happen to college football since…well, ever. he’s in a world completely different to your own. while he spends his nights partying and racking up his body count, you spend your nights reading and racking up your word count. but when the two of you decide to come to a mutually beneficial agreement, you realise you aren’t so different after all.

ᡣ𐭩 warnings/tags. 18+. fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, fake dating, opposites attract, acquaintances to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, sukuna being an asshole, best friend gojo.

ᡣ𐭩 chapter. 3/?

ᡣ𐭩 word count. 3.8k

ᡣ𐭩 a/n. hello again my loves! welcome to chapter three of touchdown!! i’m in the process of beginning to write my next college au as voted by all of you lovely people! that should be out soon, and i’ll be writing them alongside each other! they will be in the same universe, and i’m hoping to have multiple college aus in the same universe for multiple characters! anyways, on with the chapter!!

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“Sit your ass down.” Those were the first words you heard as you stepped into the door of your apartment, hands clasped together in a futile attempt to keep them warm from the november weather. In short, you were freezing your ass off. You tensed as you heard the voice, shrugging your coat off and tentatively tiptoeing your way into the living room with a sheepish smile on your face.

“Am I in trouble?” There say Yuki, legs spread, hands in her lap, with a terrifying look on her face. It wasn’t very often Yuki was mad at you, but when she was, your blood always ran cold. “Yeah sweetie, you’re in trouble.” She nodded her head towards the seat opposite her, and you quickly took a seat, looking down at your lap to avoid meeting her steel gaze.

“Is this about the laun-” “Shut the fuck up.” You closed your mouth instantly. You knew better than to argue with the blonde woman when she was in this mood. You’d known her since the freshman year of high school, where she picked you from the crowd, swung her arm around your shoulders and claimed you as her best friend for the rest of her days. You were a victim, really.

“You didn’t think to tell me? Did you think you’d get away with it?” You racked your brain for what you could’ve done that would have her this pissed at you. You’d always been an angel in Yuki’s eyes, and she protected you from the outside world the way a mother bear would. You were basically her baby. It was how you’d got through high school unscathed despite your invasive tendencies.

“Get away with…what?” She rolled her eyes, shifting her hips so she was closer to you, bringing one manicured nail up under your chin to force you to meet her eyes. Fucking terrifying. “You and Sukuna? You thought you could date the captain of the football team and not tell me?” You let out a sigh of relief, knowing she wasn’t truly mad at you. She was mad that she’d found out from someone that wasn’t her best friend.

“I should’ve known Choso would tell you. What a snitch.” You rolled your eyes, but Yuki was having none of it. “Spill.” Her eyes were still hard as she looked at you, but you could tell she was excited. You’d not shown an interest in a man beyond dragging him into your bedroom since you broke up with Toji in your senior year of high school. “Shit, okay. It’s new. Like, really new. Not even official yet. Obviously I know him because of Satoru being in the same frat, and I always thought he was hot, everyone thinks he’s hot.” Yuki nodded along with you, her brows furrowing every so often, especially when you mentioned Satoru. They’d always been rivals for your affection, ever since freshman year of high school, when they were both fighting to be crowned the title of your best friend.

“And then he was trying to dm me but i’m private, so he made Toru text me to tell me to accept, and he just kinda asked me to hang out with him after practice, and we’ve been texting and then he asked me to go to the par-”

Yuki screamed. Like actually screamed. The type that would make your neighbours think you’re either having really good sex or being brutally murdered. Neither of which had ever happened for either of you in that apartment.

“He asked you to go with him to the party tonight?” You nodded, and smiled as her eyes sparkled. It’s gonna be so hard to tell her about the fake break up. “He never asks girls to parties. He just picks one that’s already there and has her for the night.” Your stomach twisted awkwardly. You knew what Sukuna was like, you knew he had a body count higher than any number you could think up. But you didn’t like hearing it.

“This is a big deal, sweetie. It means you’re one step closer to actually being his girlfriend. He doesn’t change his routine for just anyone.” Your brows furrowed for a moment. Yuki seemed to know even more about Sukuna than you did. And it was literally your job.

“How the hell do you know all this?” The answer hit you before you could even finish your question. It was such an obvious thing.

Choso.

Choso and Yuki had met two years ago at a bike meet, and exactly the same way she did with you, she claimed him as her own. Choso was reserved, a quiet graphic design major with a heart of gold. You still don’t know how he ended up on the football team, but you suspected it was something to do with Sukuna.

“God. Choso is really invested in his brother’s life.” Yuki rolled her eyes. You were avoiding this line of questioning like the plague. She’d always been able to see right through you.

“You’re going to the party, right?” Of course you were. You needed those interviews so badly, and you wouldn’t get them if you didn’t hold up your end of the deal. Even if it meant going to a party at a frat house. You liked parties, even some frat parties, but you’d only ever gone with Satoru and Yuki. You were gonna be a whole new world now.

“Yeah. Wanna help me get ready?”

Yuki screamed again. Your neighbours were a homophobic elderly couple, and they’d always thought you and Yuki were lesbians. There was some truth to their thinking, Yuki really did like girls. The screaming wasn’t helping your case.

“Sweetie, you have to wear the red one. It’s his favourite colour and you look damn good in it.” You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless pulled out the red dress, while Yuki ran to grab a dress shirt that Choso had left after he got wasted and crashed after team’s award ceremony. You pulled the outfit on and you had to admit, you did look good. You weren’t big-headed but you knew you were somewhat attractive, and the outfit only brought it out.

“So hot.” Yuki giggled as she pulled your hair around, styling it exactly how you like. You’d done your makeup already, and now you were finished. You sprayed some perfume, knowing by the end of the night you’d stink like stale beer and axe body spray. “You ready?” You nodded, following her out the door. She held the car door open for you, as she always did. Yuki showed you exactly how a girl should be treated.

When you and Yuki finally arrived, the party was already in full throttle. People were making out on the couch in the yard, the doorway was clogged full of stumbling frat bros, and you were not happy. Yuki’s hand was clasped tightly around yours, as you used the other to send a dm to Sukuna telling him that you were here.

It took exactly five seconds for the pink haired man to appear in front of the two of you. “Listen. Do not leave her alone. I’ve got a bat in the trunk of my car and i’m not afraid to ruin your career.” His eyes fell to you hiding behind her figure, and you nodded, you knew she would actually do it. He held his hands up in surrender. Yuki didn’t play about you, and if anything happened to you because of him, they wouldn’t find the body.

“You call me if you need me. I’m gonna go find Cho, okay?” You nodded, smiling as she left a soft kiss on your cheek, and gave Sukuna a sharp glare.

“Y’know, Choso said she was a bitch, but I didn’t think he meant it.” You giggled as he took your hand, weaving the two of you through the crowd, hissing venomous words at anyone who got too close to you. “She’s just protective. She’s been like that since high school. She’s the same with Cho.” Sukuna didn’t like the way he slightly tensed at the nickname for his brother, but he chose to ignore it.

“Come on, princess. We’ve got a game of beer pong to win.” You grinned up at him as he pulled you along, and you were almost at the table when you heard a familiar voice over the boom of the dj in the corner.

“You bitch!” Sukuna swung around at this, as you turned slowly, meeting Satoru’s eyes. He stood there, mouth agape as he looked at your hand, which was still fused with Sukuna’s. “So it’s true. This asshole’s got you as his next victim.” He held a hand over his chest as he glared at Sukuna.

“Watch your mouth, Six.” The pink haired man’s teeth were gritted as he looked at Satoru with venom. “Toru, i’m not a victim. I’m also not a five year old you need to babysit.” Satoru reached out, tearing you away from Sukuna and tugging you into his chest, his hand smoothing over your hair. “Y/N, baby. My sweet, sweet girl. He’s an animal.”

You pushed him away, stepping backwards into Sukuna’s body, his hands coming to wrap tightly around your hips. It was so natural, the way he touched you. The feeling it gave you, was unnatural. “I’m a big girl, Toru. I can handle myself.” You gave him a wink, before turning on your heel and pulling Sukuna away like a lost dog.

“Thought we had a game to win?” He grinned down at you, before whistling at one of the other team members. You think his name was Noaya. He was younger than you and Sukuna by a year. “Move. Me and my girl got next.” His girl. It sounded foreign. You hadn’t been someone’s girl in a long time. You gave a small wave to the boys surrounding the table, trying to ignore the stares you were getting from the sorority girls in the room. Sukuna never had someone from the get go at a party. Who the fuck were you?

“Go ahead, baby.” Sukuna placed the ball in your hand and grinned when you instantly got it in the opposing team’s cup. Suguru groaned as he looked down, picking up the cup and downing the contents with a grimace on his lips. “Fuck. She’s good.” Sukuna’s hands were steadily stroking circles on your hips, and it ached how naturally this came to the two of you. You hadn’t been in a relationship since high school, and you weren’t sure Sukuna ever had.

You began to pout when Suguru’s throw landed straight into the cup before you. You gave a small sigh and lifted the solo cup to your lips, throwing your head back to get the contents down in one. You shivered when you finished, eyes falling to Sukuna’s with a small frown. “Ryo…will you get me a drink?”

Your hand had come up to his neck, your perfectly manicured nails stroking at his undercut deliciously. He shivered. He actually shivered. It felt too good. “Yeah, princess. What do you want?” He’d leaned in close now, and you could feel his breath on your ear. It sent a chill down your spine in the best way possible. “Hm. Somethin’ sweet.” You grinned at him, placing a sloppy kiss on the corner of his mouth as he began to retreat.

“Nanami. Watch her.” The blonde man in front of you, Nanami, nodded, moving to stand by your side.

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” Nanami looked formal, his hair was perfectly styled, and he sported a blue polo to go with the khakis he wore. So you opted for a handshake, holding your hand out for him. You noticed the slight upturn at the corner of his lips as he took your hand in his own. “You can call me Kento, if you’d like.” You nodded, giving him a small smile of your own.

“You’re on the football team too, right?” He nodded, and you spied the red cup in his hand, with what looked to be water in it. Smart guy. “Yes. Truthfully, I’m only there because it was required that I have a sports extracurricular. I tend to coach more than play.”

You were nodding along with what he was saying, and he watched your expression to know that you were genuinely interested in what he had to say. “What’s your major?” You were interesting. Nanami may have been boring, but he was probably the player on the team that Sukuna trusted the most. He was level-headed and he was honest. He’d been there too many times to save Sukuna’s ass for him not to trust him. This also meant that Nanami was always subject to whatever girl Sukuna was fixed on at parties. But you were different. You seemed to care about people for more than just their status.

“Accounting. I’m going into business with my father once I graduate.” You smiled, your eyes never leaving his as you held a genuine interest in the conversation. “What about you?” He saw the way your eyes lit up as you began to speak, you genuinely loved your major.

“I’m a journalism major. Specifically sports journalism.” He nodded along, and then something clicked in his mind. “Oh, yes. You’re going to be interviewing us all, correct?”

“Yeah! Ryo said he’d try and get you all on board with it. I’ve got a big project to do about how student athletes balance the personal and professional as well as sports. I hope he isn’t forcing any of you to do this.” Nanami noticed the way you seemed to tense. Everybody knew Sukuna could be harsh, but you wanted genuine answers from the men on the team.

“We’re all happy to help. I saw the order you had us in, any particular reason for it?”

“Well I wanted Geto first because he’s a business owner so he probably has to balance the most, and Sukuna’s last because he’s the captain. Everyone else was just in between based on who’s names I wrote down first.” Before Nanami could respond, Sukuna appeared again, a cup in his hand with a small rubber seal over it, a straw poking out of the top.

“We gotta buy more of those cup cover things.” You gave him a smile, tugging him down to kiss his cheek before taking a sip, your eyes lighting up as you got the sweet sensation flooding your tastebuds. “This is so good, baby.” The pet name rolled so deliciously off your tongue. This was all too natural. Sukuna smirked down at you, before leaning in close to your ear.

“Let’s go sit. Need these sorority whores to know i’m off limits for a while.” You scoffed, slapping his chest gently as he began to lead you towards the couch at the back of the room. “Don’t call women whores, Ryo. I’m sure some of them are really nice girls.” That was one of the main things you’d disliked about Sukuna. He was disrespectful as fuck.

“And some of them are whores.” You scoffed again as he pulled you down onto his lap, your arm coming around his neck to stroke his undercut again. “You’re also a whore, asshole.” You gave him a sickly sweet smile when you saw a group of sorority girls approaching.

“Kuna, baby. Who’s this?” Your eyes moved to meet the gaze of a girl named Yorozu. You knew she was captain of the cheerleaders, and she spent a lot of time around the football team. Maybe she would’ve been a good person to interview for your project.

“This is Y/N. My girl.” You were smiling politely at the girls, beginning to feel out of place. Almost as if Sukuna could read your mind, his thumb began stroking gentle circles on your hip, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “You? A girlfriend? Don’t make me laugh, Sukuna.”

“He’s not kidding. It’s a new thing, but he’s my man.” The possessiveness had never come so easily. You’d never been a girl to stake a claim on a man. If another girl could take him, she could have him. But you needed this. You needed to keep up your end of the deal so your project wouldn’t come crashing down around you.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, sweetie, but you’re just his newest toy. He’ll get bored of you and toss you to the side the second someone better comes along.” She had a sickly sweet smile on her lips, but you could see the bitterness clouding her features. He’d done her dirty, and this was pissing her off.

“Is that what he did with you? That’s sad. I guess he just needed the right girl to change his ways. Right, Ryo?” Sukuna’s smirk grew wider than you ever thought possible as you leaned down to pepper a few kisses on his neck, getting that sweet spot just under his ear so deliciously. “Damn right, baby.” The brunette girl scoffed, eyes darting between the two of you angrily.

“Ryo? What happened to you only going by your last name?”

“It’s a name reserved for my girl. Sounds so good coming out of her mouth.” You could tell Yorozu wasn’t going to let up any time soon, and you were growing uncomfortable with the attention on you. So you did the unthinkable. You violated your own fucking rules.

You grabbed his jaw gently, turning his head to face you. His eyes were searching yours for any sort of explanation. But you really didn’t have one. Instead, you leant forward, connecting your lips with his in a heated kiss. You hated how it made heat pool in your stomach when his tongue came out to nudge at your bottom lip, a silent plead for permission.

And you fucking allowed it. You opened your mouth slowly, allowing his tongue to enter and dance with yours in the most delicious way. His hands had slowly moved down, finding purchase on your soft ass, kneading the flesh between his large fingers. You were fucking making out with Sukuna in front of everyone.

At least nobody could deny your acting skills.

When you were certain you were safe from the venomous words of the cheer captain, you pulled away, sighing softly as you tried to catch your breath. Sukuna’s eyes were wide. He didn’t know what he was feeling, but he knew he didn’t like it. “What happened to no kissing?” And he was back. Signature smirk spreading across his face as he slowly took his hands away from your ass.

“Seemed necessary. It worked, didn’t it?” You wiped the corner of your mouth shyly where the spit from the kiss had pooled. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna doubt we’re fucking now.” He let out a breathy chuckle, eyes scanning over the crowd, noticing the stares and whispers. Everyone except the football team seemed invested in this.

Of course, Choso struggled to keep his mouth shut, so the whole team already knew about the two of you. And they didn’t actually care. They thought the same thing everybody else did. You were his shiny new toy, and he was gonna ruin you.

“We gotta seal the deal, princess. I’ll drive you home. Then everyone will think i’ve got you under me. Or on top of me.” He was grinning now. One of those annoying, shit-eating grins that only he could make look good. And you hated that he did.

“I don’t get in cars with men who’ve been drinking. You think I wanna die before writing about the NFL?”

“I don’t drink during the season. I’ll get you home safely.” You weren’t comfortable with him knowing where you lived just yet. You didn’t fully trust him. Not until he came through with the interviews. “How about we stay here? You’ve got a room right? I’ll just crash with Toru, and come to your room in the morning so it looks like we did something.”

Sukuna looked apprehensive for a moment, before nodding his head, and gently picking you up from his lap. “Lemme just talk to Kamo. You go find Six, yeah?” You nodded, before the two of you parted ways. You spotted the mop of white hair towering above the crowd, running over and nipping his ass cheek with a giggle.

“Well if it isn’t my slut of a best friend.” You feigned offence, holding a hand to your chest as you looked up at him with a grin on your lips. “I am not a slut!”

“Yeah you are, baby girl. Sucking face with Sukuna so shamelessly? Whore behaviour.” You slapped his chest with a giggle. You knew he didn’t mean it. Bad even if he did, his body count was higher than your rent. He had no room to talk. “Can I crash in your room tonight?” Satoru’s brows furrowed.

“You not staying with your man?” His eyes began to look around for his pink haired teammate amongst the crowd of wasted students. “I don’t wanna sleep with him yet. Gotta give him something to look forward to, huh?”

Satoru wasn’t as good at seeing through you as Yuki was, and you were grateful she wasn’t here right now. She’d call your bullshit and this whole ordeal would be for nothing. “You’re a tease, Y/N. You know you can always crash with me. He know you’re staying?”

As confident as Satoru was in his abilities, Sukuna would demolish him, and he wasn’t too proud to admit that. He didn’t wanna come between the two of you if it meant gaining a broken bone. “Yeah, he’s gonna stay in his room tonight.” Satoru looked surprised at that, but you didn’t push. You didn’t need to know any more about Sukuna than what was needed for your project.

And as if he’d been summoned, the pink haired brute appeared behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing a sloppy kiss on your temple. “You wanna go upstairs, baby?” You nodded, waving shyly to Satoru who looked as though he was about to burst, and followed him as he guided you through the crowd and up the stairs.

“I’ve got a shirt you can use for the night. Make it look like you stayed with me. Just come by in the morning, and then sneak out. Should work.” You nodded slowly, taking the pink shirt from his hands. You turned on your heel, about to leave, before he stopped you with his hand around your wrist.

“Thanks, princess.” It was said with grit teeth, like it pained him to say it. But it was a thanks nonetheless. You nodded, giving him a small smile, before leaving his room. You trudged across the hall, before dipping into Satoru’s room, pressing your back against the door once it was closed.

What the fuck.

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#x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #m.list #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk ryomen #ryomen fluff #ryomen x reader #touchdown

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buck-star · 4 months ago

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Hii! If it’s okay, totally okay if not!

Can I please request a TFAWS!Bucky x fem!reader where she is his next door neighbor and they first meet when she’s moving into the apartment complex, and struggling to carry in all of her stuff. Bucky, ever the sweet gentleman he is, offers to help her move in and carries her stuff.🥹 And they spend a lot of time together in her apartment that day getting to know each other. After that they’re best friends (who obviously have a growing love for each other) and often spend time with each other in both his apartment and her apartment. Bucky even starts taking her to his lunches with Yori (who definitely catches on and points out the feeling between the two of them hehe) and eventually introduces her to Sam (who also can see the pair love each other). Many situations bring the two of them closer together, like one day when Bucky saves her from a group of men who followed her home from work, and also another time when Y/n (who now has an extra key to Bucky’s apartment, and he has one to hers) hears Bucky having a nightmare and she goes into his apartment, crawls into his arms, and lays down with him on the floor of his apartment to calm him down🥺 Anyways, they’re both idiots in love and finally confess their love each other after so long of being just “best friends”🥺

Hi! Thank you for the sweet request. This is an amazing, cute, adorable and just lovely request. The way both of them find their way to one another and it just so cute. The end isn’t the best I guess but yeah. I’m sorry it took me so long to write it but I finally finished it! I hope you like and enjoy it.

More than everything | B.B

Your new neighbour helps you to move in but soon he is way more than just your neighbour. Your best friend, the one you can talk about everything, he knows every secret, except one.

Pairing -> Neighbour!BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Neighbour!BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Wordcount -> 7.371 Words

Warnings -> fluff, lots of fluff, idiots in love, some weird guys, nightmares, love confession

Authors Note -> I want to thank @thevillainswhore for proofreading! Thank you so much, my love! I love you!❤️ All and every mistakes are my own.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Sweat runs down your face as you lift one of the heavy boxes out of your car. You haven’t even started to move your stuff into your new apartment, yet you feel like you’ve carried an elephant around. The sun is shining a lot today, heating the air and there’s not much of a cool breeze that could help you to cool down.

With a groan, your fingers clutch onto the box tighter. You feel the slow movement of it slipping from your grasp, so you try to squeeze it so it won’t fall down. You’re not sure what’s in the box, but it’s heavy and you can’t have all of your stuff laying around in the ground in front of your apartment.

“Need help?” A rough voice startles you. Spinning on your heel, you turn to face the person who stands there and your mouth drops open while your eyes widen.

The man who stands there with a soft smile tugging at his beautiful plump lips has short brown hair and wears a hoodie and gloves. You secretly wonder if it’s not too warm underneath all those layers of fabric. He reaches out to place his big hands underneath the box you carry and lifts it up like it weighs nothing. You notice the muscles working underneath his hoodie when he holds the carton.

“H-Hi! U-uhm, I would love to accept the offer but I don’t want to interrupt you from whatever you were doing,” you mumble, face palming yourself when the words leave your lips. He wouldn’t offer you his help if he was busy. Instead of judging you he just chuckles, his ocean blue eyes sparkle and his nose scrunches ever so slightly.

“Of course, doll! I’m Bucky, and you?” He asks, looking straight into your eyes and causing your knees to buckle. Bucky’s laugh, his voice — he is just so perfect. You’re not sure if he is just an imagination in your mind or if you’re hallucinating because of the heat and limited drinking.

Clearing his throat, Bucky pulls you out of your thoughts and gets your attention back. “I- I’m y/n. Nice to meet you, Bucky,” you say, smirking softly with heat creeping up your cheeks. You reach into your car once again to get another box out to carry.

“You can place it on top of this one, put two on top,” he says with a grin at you. You narrow your eyes, placing another box on the one he has already in his arms before reaching in to grab another carton.

“It’s heavy to carry that much, Bucky,” you chuckle, but place the third box into his arms as well. With a grunt, he almost falls forward, scaring you before standing straight again. He starts laughing softly, winking at you as you grab a box for yourself to carry into your apartment.

“I once lifted a whole engine for a friend, so your boxes aren’t that heavy compared to a ship engine,” Bucky says. You shake your head, smirking before making your way to the front door and into the apartment complex. “Which floor?”

“Second.” Bucky nods, grinning. As you walk up the stairs and along the floor the two of you walk closer and closer to his apartment, and his smirk grows with every step closer to your apartment.

While you think you embrassed yourself in front of this handsome and sweet man with your stutter and dropped jaw earlier, he only thinks it makes you adorable. There wasn’t someone in a while who looked at him with such softness in their expression — someone who doesn’t seem to know who he was, who gives him the chance to get to know him as the person he is now.

“Oh!” Bucky says when you stop in front of your door to fish the keys out of your pocket. You turn around, tilting your head as he chuckles. “Hi, next door neighbor.”

You giggle. For a moment you’re sure he is making a joke, but he just nods toward the door next to yours and grins even wider. Your eyes widen as you look to the door, then back to him.

“I don’t want to interrupt that sweet little moment where you stare at me and my apartment door because you find out that I live next to you…. But these boxes are going to be too heavy for me to carry soon,” Bucky says and nods at the boxes he is still holding in his arms. You gasp, taking the keys and unlocking the door with an apologetic smile. “It was a joke, I don’t mind carrying those boxes for you all day.”

You roll your eyes playfully, letting Bucky walk into your apartment and follow behind. “You’re the best, thank you so much!” You say as you both place the boxes on the floor.

“Don’t thank me yet, we have a lot more to carry,” Bucky tells you, walking a step closer to you and placing his big hands on the small of your back, pushing you toward the door. Instead of flinching of his sudden touch, you giggle softly, liking the warmth of his soft touch.

The two of you carry all your stuff into your apartment and while Bucky looks like he hasn’t done anything all day, you feel your aching muscles. You sigh deeply when you finally are able to let yourself fall down on the couch.

“How can you still look so— so handsome, so good like you haven’t carried so many boxes and all,” you ask, eyes roaming over his tall body while he stands in front of you. Bucky chuckles, leaning back against the wall behind him. His tongue pokes out, gliding over his lips to wet them and cause them to glisten.

“How about I get some food for the two of us, there is that nice restaurant just a block away,” he suggests and you nod immediately. He pushes himself off the wall, turning around to make his way out of the apartment.

“Wait!” You shout, causing him to stop in his tracks and turn back to you. “Uhm- let me find my wallet.”

Bucky laughs, shaking his head and walking further to the door. “You don’t have to pay me for dinner, and also not for helping you to carry those boxes, so no ‘buts’ here.”

With a sigh, you chuckle and Bucky makes his way to get the food. He already likes you a lot, you’re a sweet and nice person, no judging. He’s sure you wonder why he wears a hoodie and gloves even though it’s hot, but he also appreciates that you haven’t asked him about it, so he doesn’t have to lie to you .

— —

After Bucky came back with the food the two of you sat there in your new apartment, talked and ate. The conversation flowed between the two of you and you feel like you’ve known Bucky for so long already. He is a sweet and gentle man, taking care of you and making you laugh. Plus his voice and laugh is the most beautiful thing you have ever heard, you could listen to him all day and you would never be tired of it nor him.

The connection between you and Bucky gets stronger with every day. The two of you spend a lot of days in your or his apartment and he becomes your best friend. You know you can trust him, you can tell him everything and he knows it as well.

One night a few weeks ago, Bucky came over in just a t-shirt, asking you if he is allowed to sleep on your couch because he can’t stand the quietness in his apartment. You offered him to sleep in bed with you, knowing that he would never touch you unless you allow him to do so but he shook his head.

“I-I would just love to sleep on the couch, you know,” Bucky mumbled, scratching the back of his head while he looked at you with sleepy eyes. He looked tired, not just because he fell out of his bed, but also because he was suffering from nightmares again.

Your scent is always calming to him. It was his first thought as he was sitting on his makeshift bed for the night, sweat running down his body. Bucky would love to say yes to sleeping in a bed with you, but he knew that his nightmares can cause him to punch something next to him and he didn’t want to risk hurting you.

“Are you okay, Buck? Do you need anything, I can make you tea,” you offered, bushing your fingers softly over his stubble. But again, he smiled softly and shook his head. Your touch was so soft, so loving and he got lost for a moment until you nodded and placed a pillow and a blanket on the couch.

“You know… we can also build a blanket fort,” you suggested with a grin, but Bucky just chuckled and patted the space next to him.

You sat down, turning to look at your best friend. He smiled, his fingers fidgeting in his lap as you place yours on his and hold his big hands in your smaller ones.

“We don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you said, smiling as softly as possible while you stroked your thumb over the back of his hand.

“I-I would love to… but…” Bucky stuttered, his eyes were roaming over your face, trying to find anything that told him that you judge him. However, he could only find nothing but pure love, affection and understanding.

“I just… you remember what I told you about my arm and my past?” You nodded, narrowing your eyes. Bucky inhaled deeply, bringing one of your hands to his metal arm, letting you touch it. He always let you do it, since the day you told him that this arm is a part of him, it makes him special. But you also told him that his arm doesn’t tell who he is because even though he was the winter soldier and had a metal arm there too — it was a different one plus he was under the control of people who used him. But it wasn’t him.

With that he allowed you to touch his arm, it was even claiming for him because you weren’t afraid of him. You accepted and loved him, with the metal arm, with his story. It makes him feel like home.

“I dream about it, almost every night. But when I fell asleep the last time here, I didn't have nightmares. But-but I sometimes punch something so I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky confessed. You couldn’t help the small quirk of your lips — he felt so comfortable that he doesn’t even have nightmares. But you also couldn’t help the glisten of your eyes; it was awful to know that those dreams made him struggle.

“I’m sorry to hear that. You can always sleep here if you want. And just for you to know… I can take care of myself so if you ever want to cuddle, just tell me, I’m sure I can take care of you and also that you won't hurt me,” you assured him, leaning closer to press a soft kiss on his cheek, causing him to blush softly. He nodded with a thankful smile, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing the back of it with a grin on his beautiful lips.

“Thank you, doll. Now go to sleep, I’m sure you’re tired. I don’t want to keep you awake just because I can’t sleep,” he smirked, letting go of you to let you go back to bed, but you stayed where you were and just let your eyes roam over his handsome face a while longer.

“You sure? I don’t mind staying up with you a while longer if it helps you,” you said but he nodded, assuring you that he is fine. “You can turn on the television if you need some background noises.”

With that, you got up and walked back into your bedroom. Bucky smiled softly, leaning back before getting comfortable and turning on the television. Your scent surrounded him and he fell asleep pretty quick, relishing the first good sleep he’d had in weeks.

That was a few weeks ago and even though Bucky loves sleeping at your apartment, sometimes he is out late and doesn’t want to wake you. Plus he wants to give you some privacy. You’re not dating anyone, but as much as he loves your company, he doesn’t want to scare you away.

With time, you become his everything. You’re the one who holds him when he thinks he falls — you’re the one, his one. And even though his feelings get stronger, he hasn’t told you yet. He’s too scared — maybe you don’t feel the same and he will destroy the friendship you both developed so perfectly.

Bucky knocks at your door. He is on his way to his dinner with Yori but he has to see you. He told the older man a lot about you, but he hasn’t introduced the two of you yet.

In one of Bucky’s hoodies — the one you picked out of his wardrobe when the two of you made a mess in the kitchen — you walk to the door and open it. Your face immediately lights up as you see your best friend, who's smiling softly at you.

“Doll! I’m just on my way to dinner with Yori, wanting to check after you—,” his voice trails off, looking you up and down. His blue eyes light up as he notices the hoodie you’re wearing, and his nose scrunches with the slight curl of his lips. “Looking good in my clothes, sweetheart.”

You giggle, ducking your head to try and hide the warmth that coats your cheeks. You play with your fingers in front of you, then you look up to meet his intense blue eyes. They look so soft and there is nothing but love and affection in them when he looks at you.

“I’m fine, thank you, Buck. Just came home from work, going to make myself some dinner and then watch a movie, probably,” you say. Bucky narrows his eyes, tilting his head slightly and he looks just adorable like that. “Don’t worry, not gonna watch our series without you! Hope you enjoy dinner with Yori, tell him ‘Hey’ from me.”

Bucky nods, he doesn’t want to move, he would prefer to stare at you a while longer — maybe just forever. He knows the two of you are meeting the next day for your movie night, but he wants to be around you all the time. He inhales deeply, looking toward the kitchen — there is no smell of food, yet.

“W-would you like to join us?” Bucky stumbles over his words. “He would love to meet you, and I would love to have you around. But only if you want to of course!” He hopes that you agree and go out with him — even though it’s not a date, but for him it’s pretty close to one.

Your smile widens as you nod. “Sure! But I have to change clothes, pretty fast— at least my pants.” With that you’re walking into your bedroom to change. Your heart races and the butterflies in your stomach go wild — it’s just a dinner with Bucky and a friend of his. But at the same time it's dinner with Bucky, who is going to introduce you to one of his friends.

Within a few minutes, you made yourself ready for dinner and walked back to Bucky, who was waiting patiently waiting for you with a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“We should put some of my hoodies into your wardrobe so you can always wear them,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming up and down your body and taking every inch in. You look stunning — like always.

You don’t have to wear a dress. Bucky loves you in everything, sweethearts and t-shirts or pants and hoodie. For him you’re always stunning. He can’t take his eyes off you, when he sleeps at yours and you get up in the morning — hair messy and you’re all sleepy. You look like the cutest thing he has ever seen.

“Lets goooo!” You giggle, taking your phone and keys and walking out of your apartment. Bucky closes the door behind you, walking next to you along the floor and out of the building.

Bucky has told you a lot about Yori already, they go out for dinner once or twice a week. Always the same bar and always the same food and drinks but Bucky loves the company of the older man. Even if he has been asking him about you pretty often recently. But Bucky doesn’t mind, he can’t seem to stop talking about how beautiful and sweet you are anyway.

The two of you walk along the street, it’s just a short stroll. He asks you about your day, if you had something nice you could tell him, or if someone upset you during work. Your best friend listens to you the whole time, nodding or chuckling with you.

He always asks you about your day, making sure you had something that made you happy and to get rid of the things that upset you. And even if it ends up with him tickling you until you laugh to have something good to say about the day. As much as Bucky loves to hear and see that someone about the day makes you happy, he loves it more when it’s him who causes your happiness.

Bucky opens the door to the bar. His palms are sweaty and he inhales deeply before following you inside, pointing to the bar where an older man sits. He is obviously waiting for someone while talking to the waitress.

“There is Yori,” Bucky says, his voice sounding slightly broken and when you look at him you notice him shifting from one foot to the other. He smirks at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes — you know that expression.

Bucky often looks like that when people are around and he becomes nervous. Or when someone stares at him with a judgemental gaze, mostly when he is overwhelmed.

You stop in your tracks, turning toward him completely so you block his way toward the bar and take both of his hands in yours. “Buck?”

He hums, letting you know that he’s listening. His ocean blue eyes roam over your face, another attempt of a smile on his pretty lips but once again you notice that it’s not letting his eyes light up like his smile usually does.

“Can you breathe with me? Slowly to calm you down. I’ll hold your hands to help you— feel it?” You ask him, inhaling deeply together with him before slowly exhaling. Bucky nods to answer your question, his thumbs running over the back of your hands. He draws small circles, something that always helps him calm down, feeling your soft flesh underneath his rough fingers.

“S-sorry… just- I’m just a bit nervous. You’re my best friend and I told him so much about you already but he always looked at me with a smirk- that looks like he knows more about our relationship than I do.” Bucky smiles at you, removing one of his hands to wipe a strand of hair behind your ear, chuckling softly. “A-And I just can’t take my eyes off of you, doll. You look so pretty.”

“Thank you,” you giggle, holding Bucky’s hand tighter before you slowly walk to the bar where his friend is already sitting. The older man turns around, his eyes widen a bit, just like the grin on his face, as he notices the two of you. Bucky shifts, offering you the place next to the other man before he takes a seat next to you.

“You look just as pretty as Bucky always described you,” Yori says, causing your best friend to choke on his spit. His cheeks heat up and he scratches the back of his neck as you look at him.

“Told you… told you that I talked a lot about you,” Bucky confesses once again. The woman behind the bar walks toward you, a soft smile appearing on his lips. She silently asks the two men if they want to have the same as always. Both of them nod, Bucky doesn't even look at her, his eyes remain on you.

Then the woman turns to you, offering you a card but you shake your head. “The same as whatever Bucky likes, please.” Whatever it is he always orders, you know you will love it. The two of you have almost the same taste in everything and you know what Bucky loves to eat, so you know that he would never eat something that you wouldn’t like either.

The woman smiles nicely before she turns around and leaves the three of you alone. Yori grins at Bucky, wiggling his eyebrows and you have to admit that’s the funniest and cutest thing a older man like Yori could have done. You chuckle, turning to face Bucky, who could win an award against a tomato.

You place your hand on Bucky’s thigh, running your fingers softly over the firm muscle. “Bucky, do you need some fresh air?” You ask, slightly worried that his skin color could be because it’s too hot or the air too thick for him to breathe right now.

Bucky shakes his head. He places his hand on yours and caresses the back of it with his thumb while he looks into your eyes for a moment. “I’m fine, just- just nervous, you know?”

You nod, then you turn back to Yori, who watches the two of you intensely. His eyes are roaming down to Bucky’s thigh where both of your hands are. “So how long are the two of you dating?”

“We aren’t dating. We’re best friends,” you say, narrowing your eyes at the question. Yori’s smile never fades, his eyes glistening. He doesn’t believe the two of you — or maybe he does but then you both are idiots.

“You should ask her out, James,” the older man says and nods toward Bucky. Your best friend's eyes widen but he smiles softly, shaking his head.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to, but you’re just best friends. You’re everything for him, even though he is more than just in love with you, he is scared to ruin everything. Bucky would do everything for you, but he is still stuck in his past, he is over 100 years old — still looking like a mid 30 year old — but that doesn’t change that he is a broken mess.

“She deserves better than the broken man I am,” Bucky says with a soft laugh. He tries to cover the truth, the pain behind his words but you can see through it.

You would like to smack him for his statement. He may be broken and a mess, but he is still the most loving and sweetest gentleman you have ever met. He never judges you, no matter what it is you have his back, you have his love, you have Bucky. You would actually tell Bucky that you don’t want anyone but him but this would lead into a conversation with more confession — something you don’t want to have during a dinner with one of Bucky’s friends in public.

The night goes well, the three of you are laughing a lot. Yori points out often that the two of you have more than just a friendship, that you both have feelings for one another but you and Bucky play it off. You like Yori a lot, you understand why Bucky likes the older man, why he always eats lunch or dinner with him. After saying your goodbyes to Yori, Bucky and you walk back to your apartment complex. Bucky brings you to your apartment, kissing your cheek softly before he makes his way to his own apartment. Your night is filled with a lot of dreams with Bucky and even Bucky himself has a night — without nightmares — but filled with fluffy thoughts of you and him.

You spend almost your whole free time with your best friend, mostly watching movies or just talking about his or your day. You know everything about his missions with Sam and Bucky suggested that he could take you with him to meet Sam. But this plan changes when Bucky knocks at your door after another mission, his smile as bright as always and behind him another man.

You know that Bucky would come home today, you already made dinner for the two of you but you didn’t know he would bring a friend of his. “Hi, doll! I-I uhm… that’s Sam! He asked to sleep here before he flies to his family tomorrow.”

“Bucky!” You say excitedly as you pull him into a much needed hug. You look over his shoulder to see his friend smirking at the two of you. “Hi, Sam. Come in, Bucky has to give me at least five minutes of cuddles before I let go of him again!”

Both of the men laugh and Sam nods before he walks into your apartment. You let Bucky pick you up, you mean that you get at least five minutes of cuddles from Bucky, and he knows that you can be such a grumpy little thing if you don’t get them. He leads Sam into the kitchen, offering him a drink while he refuses to let you down.

“Does he cling to you like that all the time?” Sam asks jokingly. You turn your head to look at him, chuckling softly.

“Why? Isn’t he such a sweet teddy bear around you?” You ask and poke your fingers into Bucky’s cheeks, squeezing his cheeks softly. “He’s my favourite teddy bear!”

“The cyborg being a teddy?” Sam asks, earning a glare from your best friend. “He’s more like a cold, staring machine.”

Bucky growls into your neck, hiding his face while he inhales your scent deeply. He was away for two days but he missed you so much that he can’t let you down just yet. He doesn’t care that he’s carried you around for ten minutes already, he could do it all day and would never be tired of it.

“I made pizza, your favourite one,” you say and run your fingers through Bucky’s hair, making him sigh into your neck. “Sam, do you like cyborg pizza?”

Sam laughs while Bucky growls once again, but it turns into a chuckle almost immediately. You’re just so cute, he can’t help himself, he can’t stop himself smiling and chuckling whenever you’re around.

“But I get to keep you on my lap,” he mumbles, letting you down for a moment to place the pizza on the table. Sam watches the two of you, smirking at Bucky. He has never seen his friend so soft and not grumpy around someone. But he likes this version of Bucky, the cute, sweet one, that looks so happy. It's like there is nothing that could make Bucky’s mood bad when you’re around, he smiles all the time, even his eyes are bright and shine in the most beautiful blue.

“I do like every pizza,” Sam nods, arranging the plates you placed in his hands on the table. He puts two of them on one side and one where he sits. Bucky grins at him, placing the pizza on the table before he picks you up and lets you sit on his lap.

Your best friend's arm is wrapped around your waist the whole time, you’re deep in talks with both of the men, getting to know Sam but also some secret and funny things about Bucky.

“And once… it was our first meeting, he landed on top of our car and he smashed the front glass and ripped out the steering wheel.,” Sam says before chewing further on the pizza. Bucky hides his face in the crook of your neck, chuckling softly.

“It wasn’t actually me. It was during the time of the winter soldier,” he mumbles. You run your fingers through his hair, calming him. You know that Bucky isn’t ashamed to talk to you about his past but you also know that he is still slightly tense when it comes to it. And your touch, your closeness and softness, is always calming for him.

“My sister and I are almost done with the boat, maybe Bucky wants to bring you to our little party then?” Sam asks, eying Bucky. “My little nephews and my sister would love you! They already love Bucky, and you’re way nicer than the cyborg.”

“Ey!” Bucky grumbles, gripping you tighter and pulling you more against him. You giggle, shoving a slice of pizza into his mouth. Bucky would love to bring you with him to the party, Sam is a good friend of his, and you’re his best friend, his everything. And even though the two of you aren’t dating, he doesn’t like the way Sam talks about you — that you’re nicer and probably sweeter and more beautiful. He isn’t wrong but Bucky doesn’t like to hear someone else saying such things about his babydoll.

“I would love to meet them, if Bucky wants to invite me,” you giggle. Bucky nods, smirking at you with a mouthful of pizza. He chews on it happily, holding you firmly pressed against his broad chest.

“Would love to,” Bucky smirks, swallowing the pizza before he opens his mouth to let you shove the next slice between his lips. You laugh softly, grasping another and shoving it into his mouth as well.

“So, Bucky said you’re not dating one another?” Sam asks, eyeing the two of you. A smug grin on his face, his eyebrows twitching in amusement. You shake your head, running your fingers through Bucky’s soft brown locks.

“No, he’s my best friend! Why does everyone think that?” You tilt your head softly, causing Bucky to almost choke on his pizza. You’re just so adorable and he can’t help himself but with a mouthful of pizza he can’t chuckle or laugh. “Buck! Don’t choke on your pizza! You need to chew before you swallow!”

Sam makes a lot more jokes about Bucky but in return Bucky embarrasses Sam just as much. The evening is filled with a lot of laughter and jokes. Bucky decides to sleep in your apartment on the couch, while Sam gets Bucky’s apartment — on the condition that he has to promise not to sneak around.

The man was more than just curious what Bucky was hiding in his apartment. Maybe a wedding ring already or maybe some really kinky sex toys? But to not destroy their trust and friendship he promises not to sneak around and he surprisingly managed to not do it.

You spend the weekend with Bucky, he asks you out for some ice cream and invites you also to another dinner with Yori. In the evenings you’re wrapped with Bucky into a blanket, snuggled up on the couch while you watch every kind of movie you can find or play some board games.

On Monday, you had to work again. Bucky told you he would make dinner and you can just come over after work. You know he is making your favourite food, he always does when he cooks for you.

You’re currently walking home from work, a few men following you, nothing too exciting because it’s a public street. But no matter where you walk, they follow you, their voices grow louder and you try to speed up. You can’t walk home, you can’t let them know where you live but they come so close.

“Girl, wait!” One of them shoots and laughs. You hear your blood rushing through your veins. The footsteps of the men behind you coming closer with every step and you feel the panic grow. You try to breathe slowly, try to calm yourself down but it doesn’t work. At least not as long as those guys walk behind you.

“I said wait, whore!” The man growls this time, his pace faster than before and he almost reaches you already. His hand is already reaching out and touching your shoulder. You prepare yourself to be thrown around, to be thrown against a wall or on the ground but it doesn’t come.

You walk further, slowing down the moment you feel a cold arm around your waist. The voices are quieter, almost silent. You inhale deeply, noticing Bucky’s scent and only now you dare to open your eyes further to look at your best friend, who presses you into his side. “Hi, babydoll.”

His voice is soft and shushing, you immediately relax in his warm embrace. Your eyes are locked with his — you’re happy he is there, that he helped you with those weird men who followed you.

“Hey! What are you doing here, Bucky?” You ask, leaning your head against his shoulder while he leads you through the street and toward your home.

“I had to go shopping, your favourite snacks were empty and I didn’t want my best girl to eat something she doesn’t like as much,” he chuckles and kisses your forehead softly. His lips are always so soft and warm, you could get lost in the feeling of them against your warm skin.

“You’re the best,” you giggle. Bucky nods proudly. He opens the door for you, leading you into the hallway before you make your way up to his apartment. Bucky prepared dinner already, he just wanted to get your favourite snacks before you were home, and saving his best girl from some weirdos wasn’t a plan, but he did it anyway.

“I know. Now, get yourself a seat, it’s your turn to decide on a movie first and dinner will be on the plates in just a moment,” Bucky says before he kisses your forehead once again. You take a seat on his couch, making it already comfortable and look for a movie. You can smell the food already, your tummy rumbling and you are already excited to get a taste of this delicious food your best friend made.

You almost confessed your love to him after the dinner, the food was so good and Bucky was so close, his lips so plump and soft you wanted to kiss him so bad. But you couldn’t just kiss your best friend, not before you told him about your feelings, not before you knew about his feelings.

You excused yourself and rushed into the bathroom, you needed a moment to breathe, he was just so soft and warm. Your feelings for your best friend went crazy and cuddling with him didn’t do a good job at calming all your running thoughts.

Even though his lips were really tempting, you didn’t kiss him, his presence made you all dizzy and comfortable — just like always — but you two watched the movie and threw popcorn at one another.

A few hours later you went to your apartment and into your bed. That’s where you are now, your eyes closed but you’re still awake, you can’t stop the thoughts in your mind. Bucky is so present in your thoughts, you tried to hide your love — your feelings — for him but the closer you come to him the harder it gets.

You’re so in love with Bucky, just like he is in love with you. You even have the key to Bucky’s apartment, just like he has yours. So when you suddenly hear a loud cracking noise and a wrecked scream you immediately sit up in your bed.

You know that sound too well, Bucky never screamed that loud but you know the way his voice sounds — it’s him. And your heart clenches as you realize that he has a nightmare, again. He told you once that the only way he doesn’t have one is being close to you. You offered him that he could sleep in your apartment even in your bed with you, but he just smiled. He doesn’t want to be a burden, doesn’t want to take away the little privacy you have. Even though you would rather spend your nights with him next to you, you accepted his decision.

You get out of your bed, wearing one of Bucky’s t-shirts — you stole it — and get the keys to Bucky’s apartment before you run out of yours and open the door to his. You already notice the silhouette of Bucky in the corner of the living room.

He always sits in a corner after a nightmare, his legs close to his chest and his arms wrapped around himself. The wall behind him doesn’t let anyone attack him from behind and from the spot he is sitting at he can see every entrance.

You slowly walk toward him, turning on just a small light to not scare him even more. “Bucky? Hey, it’s me. Can you hear me?” You ask and get on your knees. A bit of distance between the two of you.

Bucky’s blue eyes are widened and sweat is running down his forehead. He nods slightly, staring at you. His eyes drift through the room every now and then, making sure no one he doesn’t want to have in his apartment comes into it.

“Can I come closer?” He nods again, allowing you to get closer to him. Bucky whimpers, tears stream down his cheeks and you feel your heart clenching at this sight. “I got you, Buck. I’m here, you’re safe.”

You crawl closer to him, your hands reaching out to pull him toward you. Bucky’s head falls against your chest, his hands clawing around your back and he breaks down completely. You run your fingers up and down his muscular back, calming him down.

Bucky holds on to you like you would disappear if he dared to loosen his grip just a tiny bit. “Bucky… we are safe here. You’re safe. We are at home, it’s just you and me here. No one is going to hurt you. I will protect you, I love you so much.”

You don’t even notice that you just confessed your love to him, of course you told him you love him but not like that. The seriousness, the love which is visible in your eyes and for the first time since the two of you know one another Bucky looks at you with a shocked but relieved expression on his face. His eyes still widened from the nightmare but your confession gave him hope — hope that someone as precious and sweet as you could really love someone as broken and messed up like him.

He doesn’t say anything, his face is buried back in your chest after you meet his gaze for a few seconds. He wants to believe that you love him, he really wants but something inside of him tells him that he doesn’t deserve your love.

“I don’t deserve your love…I-i…” Bucky stumbles, he whimpers and pulls you even closer toward him. “I-I want you to love me… b-but I don’t deserve your love…”

“Bucky!” You say, gasping at his words. How can someone as sweet and lovely like him not believe to be able to be loved more than everything, that he deserves so much love? “Hey! Listen to me. You deserve so much love! You deserve all the love in the world. You even deserve the world, Bucky. And I don’t care how broken or messed up you are, I love you!”

Bucky looks up at you once again, his fingers digging into your back. He shakes his head, he wants you to love him, so bad, but he doesn’t want to destroy you. He doesn’t want to hurt you, to break you, to make you like he is. “N-no…”

“Yes, Bucky. You can’t stop me, you can’t make me love you less. No one can, no one will ever make me love you less. I pretended that I could be just your best friend but I can’t anymore. I love you, more than everything, I need you, and I want you to see that you deserve love, all the love!” You say, trying to sound serious but still soft while talking to him.

You’re not sure what came over you to confess all that, maybe because he broke down once you wrapped your arms around him? Maybe it was just the last push after the day and half the night laying awake or whatever it was — you don’t regret it, you could never regret telling the love of your life that you love him, that you care for him — that your best friend is everything for you.

“Doll… you can’t… you— I will break you… I will hurt you. You deserve better than me,” Bucky whimpers, he has you already sitting on his lap, refusing to let go of you.

“It doesn’t matter, even when there would be someone better, I wouldn’t like someone other than you. Please let me love you, let me show you that you deserve to be loved just like everyone,” you mumble, running your fingers through his brown locks.

Bucky nods, letting himself fall more against you, leaning into your touch. He closes his eyes, his heart filled with love and affection. He has waited so long to hear those words from you, and now — no matter how shitty this situation is — it makes his heart race and his feelings for you to grow.

“Can you sleep in my bed then?” He whimpers, looking up at you with teary eyes. You can’t help but chuckle at his cute request, then you nod. Bucky inhales deeply, his breath still shaking but everything worked out so well right now, he couldn’t ask for anything else.

Your love will heal him, he knows it because it has since you got to know one another. Since he helped you to move into your apartment. Bucky knows that he never felt for someone before like he feels for you, no matter how broken he is, he knows that it will never stop him from loving you more than everything.

“I love you too, more than everything,” he mumbles, leaning more into you. “You know… I will never let you go. I will hold you in my arms every night, I will make you dinner, I-i will… be the best version of me I can be.”

“You’re already the best version of yourself, Bucky. You’re the most precious man, the sweetest I have ever met,” you smile softly, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. His ocean blue eyes shining with adoration and love, no signs of fear to the nightmare anymore. “Can I kiss you?”

Bucky nods with a soft smile across his lips as he is leaning closer already. You giggle at his impatience. But it was just too long to try not to, so you can’t blame him, it was too long to hold back from kissing one another. With a soft smile, you place your lips on his. And they really are as soft and warm as they look. You sigh softly, letting Bucky pull you even closer and hold you as tight as possible against his broad chest. His lips move softly against yours and he relaxes in your warm embrace, with his lips finally touching yours.

He may think that he doesn’t deserve to be loved — but this kiss lets him forget about all the insecurities and worries he has. The only thought left in his mind right now is how much he loves you, how often he wants to kiss you, that he just wants to hold you and tell you how much he loves you — over and over again. That’s what he is going to do, show you his love for you and he will show you that you’re everything for him, just you, only you as long as you’re with him.

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larriescompass · 6 months ago

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ways to dispel gay rumors, according to louis tomlinson and harry styles:

1. write a love song, and include the place where you and your enemy lived together.

2. constantly walk away from your at the time girlfriend of nine years.

3. struggle to hold hands with and kiss your at the time girlfriend of several years.

4. repeatedly say ‘no’ when asked if you and your girlfriend are engaged.

5. but do say, ‘it’s confidential, but we’re already engaged,’ when asked when you are gonna propose to your best mate.

6. say you have a crush on your best mate, and that you’ve discussed it and say that it’s mutual.

7. when asked if the rumor is true, smile fondly and say yes.

8. when your best mate is talking about finding someone they would want to date, cough really obviously and loudly.

9. choose to play a song on your tour, where the first word has major involvement with the rumor.

10. when asked about the rumor, turn into a horse.

11. deny the rumor while emphasizing the word ‘obviously’ and MAKE SURE to be very sarcastic.

12. dress up rainbow bears on stage that represent gay artists.

13. dress up said rainbow bears in wedding outfits on stage with a picture positioned in front of it of a man named larry, while signing the photo with the words “love, larry.”

14. when you see something involving the rumor, give it a thumbs up!

15. get matching tattoos.

16. go to amsterdam with your wonderful girlfriend at the time, then come back and write a song where the first line is, “i went to amsterdam without you,”

17. having to adjust your pants because your best mate’s shirt popped open.

18. when your “mate” asks to give you a blowjob, respond with “i’d love it, if you’d just wait.”

19. when asked about your favorite traits in a female, say “not that important” about the person being a female.

20. look depressed whenever someone mentions your child.

21. cover a song where the main objective of the song is to be the girl just so you could be with the guy.

22. get a tattoo that you know people will link to the person involving the rumor.

23. dress up as queer idols for halloween.

24. go to gay bars.

25. bring your girlfriends to gay bars.

26. cook a meal for your girlfriend even though you didn’t even know her when you cooked it, and she was vegan at that time.

27. make a dopey fonding face while you’re staring at your best mate.

28. sexually tease each other on stage.

29. while your best mate is hyping himself up and says while referring to himself, “that’s just sex on legs,” agree and say, “yeah it is,” while giving him love eyes.

30. at your solo concert, point to a replica of the rainbow bear in the crowd that you and your best mate dressed up on stage.

31. change the lyrics of your song from “i love it” to “i love him.”

32. you must wear a vintage umbro t shirt that is very rare, and make sure to have your best mate show up wearing the same vintage rare umbro shirt just a few months later.

33. go completely MIA while your best mate has his off season, and pop back up in public when he goes back on tour.

34. host your own festival and have an artist with a song named “you’re not harry styles” perform during it.

35. consistently use colored lights that are heavily associated with the rumor during your concerts.

36. use art of your “totally platonic” friend’s tattoo for the spotify background of one of your songs.

37. do a photoshoot with clothes from a gay clothing brand that dates back to the fifties.

38. go to the same euros game and make sure to be seen in the same room together.

39. bite your best mate’s back after you deny the gay rumors.

40. look at your best mate and sing “i’m in love with lou, and all his little things” in a totally normal and platonic way.

#i wrote this like two years ago #then i added more #now i’m posting it iahdisjdjd #hl #harry styles #louis tomlinson #one direction #faith in the future #larry stylinson #larry is real

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

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heartbreak hotel

- gojo satoru x reader

so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up.

genre/warnings: crack, jealousy, a dose of pettiness, hurt/comfort, fluff, zero angst i promise, suguru being a good buddy to his boyfriend best friend

notes: inspired by a very real life story :))) anyways, it takes place in an au where suguru never left and all is well with our little meow meow catoru the wonderful colored manga panel by the talented @redbluenight! this was so much fun to write (that it turned into a whopping 3k+ word, so sorry) and i even made a playlist while on it ;)

general masterlist

"He's intolerable!"

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with Gojo Satoru, but if asked one word to sum it, then that was it.

When you started this thing with him, obviously you had never planned on how it would end―who started a relationship with that sort of mindset anyway? But if you could choose, you definitely wouldn't want it to end with dramatic shouting match that left you in tears.

Anyways, some things were just not meant to be. You refused to spend your whole life crying over that smug bastard, and so you moved on.

However, if there's one thing you've learned about plans, it is that whenever you already make a foolproof one, the world always has some funny way to mess it up.

Like this time.

"I... I remembered saving for months," you stammered dumbly, staring blankly at Shoko in front of you. The realization felt like a spiritual ascent. "I paid for that damn plane ticket and hotel with my whole saving. I can't just throw them away."

How could you possibly forget about this? This graduation trip that had been planned between your group of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yourself for months now. It was meant to be a getaway, a celebration of your most significant achievement after four years of barely getting by on exorcising curses and not dying in the process. This was supposed to be the ultimate milestone celebration in your life.

"Then don't," Shoko replied simply, twisting the cigarette in her mouth. "I'm still going though. No way I'm wasting that money."

"But!" you vehemently hissed. "He will be there. It means I have to see him for three days straight!"

Your cringeworthy breakup happened just barely a week ago. You had sworn in front of Gojo Satoru that you didn't want to see his face again, and yet in less than a week from now, you and him would literally share the same space―again?

"Can't I get a refund?"

"This late? Nah, it's like yay or nay at this point."

You slumped in frustration. Were the gods making you swallow your own words now? You were left with no other choice. Your frugality and tendency to get broke often compelled you to make the decision.

You were going on this trip whether he was there or not.

Meanwhile, on his end, the said smug bastard was brooding, groaning and pacing over the same predicament. Satoru had two options and had weighed them all, and somehow he still arrived at the more seemingly no-good decision.

"I'm going, duh!"

"You are?" Suguru asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Well, might be the first time I've seen someone agree to go on an overnight trip with his ex..."

"Hmph. I just don't like squandering money."

Suguru snorted, unimpressed. “Satoru, you have an entire fortune. The airfare is just an amount you'd donate to charity. Besides, you have wasted more than that.”

“Well, I want to enjoy my youth too! I’m going—who cares if she’ll be there!”

He was still miffed, recalling the day your argument spiraling out of control. How could you say those hurtful things to him?

“You never take things seriously—heck, I’m not even sure if you’re ever taking me seriously at all! Satoru, you’re always acting all high and mighty, but you’re just a selfish little twat!”

No way. The last time, he was left in the dust, not being able to say anything in his defense. So now, he would use this chance to be the one who had the last laugh. He was going, because he was 70% sure that you wouldn’t let your hard-earned money go to waste.

And he was right when two days later, he found you at the airport with a bitter scoff upon seeing him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he moistened his lower lip in that obnoxious way. “Missed me?”

You walked past him, tone lacing with disdain. “Get lost, Gojo.”

He couldn’t help the prickling sensation in his chest when you dismissed him just like that. And the use of his last name—whereas you used to call him with all sort of available pet names? Now that was just low.

“Nah, you can’t get away from me that easily, Y/N,” Satoru sniggered. “You’re going to see me for the next three days, so suck it up and enjoy the sight,” and then the idiot proceeded to pump his fist in the air. “Wooo! Kyushu, here I go!”

Suguru and Shoko merely observed your icy interactions in silence, occasionally exchanging glances from time to time.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 1 — BEACH DAY @ SEASIDE HOTEL

After the three-hour flight, the four of you arrived at Karatsu, one of the main highlights in your trip—or back then, one you and Satoru handpicked yourselves.

You swore you still had your heart frozen for him, so you didn’t know what stirred it when you saw him giggling and doubling over in carefree delight, surrounded by those beach girls in skimpy bikinis.

“Hey, handsome~ is this even okay?” one of the girls in pink thong scooted closer to him, asking him with this cheap seductive grin. “Won’t your girlfriend be mad?”

At that moment, you could’ve sworn Satoru threw you a glance from the corner of his eye before replying with a triumphant bark. “What girlfriend? I’m wholly and happily single!”

The hell?

A rush of squeals grated your nerves as they swarmed your ex-boyfriend, prompting you to stalk away in irritation.

Absolutely not. You wouldn’t let this fine establishment be your heartbreak hotel any longer.

Gojo Satoru knew fully that he was petty. He let you see that on purpose just to rile you up, because frankly, he still felt like he didn’t deserve your messy breakup at all.

But when you were no longer in his eyesight, suddenly the urge to entertain these strangers dissipated, and what remained was this hollow sensation in his chest. You not paying him attention somehow made him crave it all the more.

He recalled how you pointed out that playing in the clear waters would be your ideal graduation gift. He specifically recommended this place himself and you had agreed. He remembered planning all of this, dragging Suguru and Shoko too just to make it merrier. To keep that cute smile on your face.

You were supposed to fool around with him in the clear waters of Matsubara Beach, splashing and pulling him underwater.

And yet in reality, he was toying with these questionable women and in your eyes, he was nothing but an irritable twat.

He didn’t see you again until evening, during dinner time. And the sight before him made him want to pull Suguru to the side and trap him inside his unlimited void.

"Really?" Your clear voice rang in his ears, every bit the same as when you would energetically question him with those doe eyes of yours, as you peered at Suguru. "We should go together tomorrow then!"

His eyes twitched.

What has his life come to? Reduced into seeing his ex-girlfriend possibly going on a date with his best friend?

He almost hoped that you'd stage up your pettiness level. It was worse because unlike him, you didn't make this up just to gauge his reaction.

That night, in their shared hotel room, he ignored Suguru completely, as well as silently waiting for him to divulge where he and you were going tomorrow.

"Hey Satoru—"

"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."

It was obviously a wrong move, because Suguru apparently caught the hint and stayed quiet as a mouse throughout the night.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 2 — HOT SPRING @ KUMAMOTO

Or at least, last he remembered, that was the agenda.

Until he saw that only Shoko who was there, idling around at the hot spring area.

"Where are the others? Why is it only you here?"

She shrugged. "Geto said he's going to try the local specialties. Dunno where. As for me, I'm going to enjoy this onsen to the fullest."

Shoko noticed his irritated scowl, and a sly grin crept across her face.

"Heh, jealous much now, Gojo?"

Meanwhile, you and Suguru went to various dessert shops in town as per his invitation. Perhaps he took pity on you because you really seemed not to be having any fun at all after you stormed off from the beach area yesterday.

"Mmm! This is tasty!" you remarked, munching away the three-colored dango happily. You were so engrossed in eating today that you no longer had any room to think about anything else, which was a good thing.

Suguru smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself now." However, he appeared to have something on his mind, prompting you to hum and tilt your head in curiosity.

"No, it's just... so it's really over between you and Satoru?"

You let out a snort. "Yeah. Totally. He's an ass."

"He really is miserable, you know..."

"Nah, he doesn't look like it."

Your friend sighed. "Honestly, what was the argument even about? Both of you usually didn't take it this far."

You didn't want to go back to that topic, really. But Suguru was always the one with cooler head, and after his kindness today, maybe you could spare him a detail or two.

"It's a lot of little things that have piled up, you know," you mumbled. "It's probably just how he is, and I know. But I finally reached my boiling point. Why can't he try to see things from my perspective? Everything that's important to me doesn't seem to matter to him, and relationships need two people, not just one who resigns and the other who does anything he pleases."

And until now, you doubted if Satoru even realized what he did wrong. That was what hurt you the most. Like you were so small in his eyes, like he could toy with you and get away with it.

As you expected, Suguru would understand your point. "So that's how you feel... Yeah, I think I get it."

You thought he would end it at that, but then he went on. "I'm not defending him, Y/N. I think some time away from you would do him good, but later, maybe you can talk this to him? See if he will understand?"

"I already did, so many times." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Not to offend you, but it awfully seems like you're defending him, Suguru, despite you saying otherwise."

"I'm saying this because sometimes we can forget that Satoru is different," he explained sympathetically, and to be honest, you were surprised by his statement. "He is born exalted. He has a hard time comprehending things that come to us naturally. I just think it's a pity if... you can actually fix this, but just because bad communication, you lose the chance to."

Have you properly communicated this to him? Now that you thought about it, most of the times you would just get mad and point at the little things he missed, but never actually told him how it made you feel.

Your mind was still muddled with the fact Suguru had shed light on even after you got back to ryokan where you were staying for the night. The two of you were in for a surprise though as apparently there was a festival happening there.

Everything seemed to spark with glitters. The bamboo lanterns, lights, the gentle breeze. It created an undeniably romantic ambiance, to be honest.

You didn't know when Suguru slipped away, but suddenly, you found yourself alone amidst the visitors and dim lights.

And you found yourself to be immensely lonely.

Satoru spotted you in all your solitary glory amidst the sea of people in this godforsaken place.

No, actually it was a pretty great inn and attraction, but this trip had been horrible so far, and so he just felt everything was bad.

But at that moment, bitterness no longer clouded his mind, because you were so beautiful, bathed in the glow of the lights that Shoko had forcibly dragged him to see. If it were up to him, he'd spend the last night sleeping his heartbreak away, but now that he was here, he was thankful to see the dazzling sight of you that reminded him once again just what made him hopelessly in love with you.

And why he didn't get his sorry ass back into your good graces faster.

He retraced everything had brought both of you to this point. Your last fight was about what again? Him not telling you any news when he would be back from a mission?

No matter how he thought about it, it was a trivial matter. So what made you mad? He kept thinking, and then he imagined switching places with you. What if you didn't text him at all for three days straight? How would he feel? Oh, he would be despondent, of course.

Now he was starting to understand. He had done that so many times he could no longer keep count. Granted, you would be angry.

Satoru suddenly know how to rectify this. He can make things right. He would be damned if he didn't. He just had to pull you aside, and he was going to when he lost sight you in the crowd.

Okay, now he was frantic, as the longer he didn't see you, the more his opportunity to make amends slipped away. He moved through the crowd, pushing people in the process, earning ire and questionable glares and yet he cared none for it.

He nearly cursed at how his phone kept vibrating incessantly inside his pocket. Begrudgingly, he took it out and almost gasped.

You are calling him.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It was so incredibly stupid. You just went to pee for a bit and then somehow got yourself locked in the toilet. It might have been fine, but then the lights unexpectedly went out, scaring the shit out of you.

How could such a upscale inn experience a sudden power outage and have doors that wouldn't budge? It was worse when no matter how many times you punched the switch or banged the door, it refused to turn on or open.

You were trapped. Honestly, it took everything you had not to cry.

And so you did the next best thing aside from forcing your way out. You called your friends. First, Shoko, and then Suguru, but both of them somehow didn't pick up the call even after you had called them three times each.

That left you with one possible person left. In your frenzied mind, it didn't even register in your mind what you were doing as the line connected and the last person you'd call on the other side answered.

"Satoru," you shakily breathed out, almost crying—or were you already? You didn't know as you focused on his sharp intake of breath, most likely surprised at how rattled you sound.

"Y/N? What? What is it?"

"I—" you wheezed, hating how helpless you sounded, yet still forced the words out. "I'm locked, it's dark—and it's just so—help! Help me please! I tried getting Shoko but she didn't—"

"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Satoru's voice brought you some comfort and it helped to reduce your tears, missing how he slipped up by calling you with his usual pet name for you. "Tell me. Where are you?"

"The women's restroom… I think it’s in the east wing."

"I'm coming, okay? Don't panic. I'll be there. Just stay on the line."

You heard his ragged breaths as he muttered several "coming through!" and "excuse me!" from where he was. It made your heart lurch. Despite the spiteful breakup, he rushed to your aid as soon as he realized you were in some kind of trouble.

Was this okay, to let your relationship end just like that?

"I'm outside." And then you heard his voice, much to your relief. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"Yes!" you shouted over the steel door.

You then heard how he rummaged to get the door open, and faintly hear him cursing it. "It won't open."

You wanted to sob, but then Satoru told you with an absolute tone, sounding so sure and demanding that compelled you to comply. "Get away from the door. As far as possible. Take cover."

Oh God, was he going to do what you thought he might do?

...he did. The next thing you knew, the door—and much more than that—was destroyed, and a rush of cursed energy was everywhere. After the blast subsided, you instinctively made a run for it, and you didn't know how, but you ended up stumbling into him.

Satoru caught you in his firm embrace.

"It's okay. You're okay," he cooed, whispering in your ear gently, urging your shivering body to calm down. "You're safe now, Y/N... I'm here. You're safe."

There was always something about your trembling form that made him want to tear down everything and anything in his path just to make you feel secure. And there was always this sense of rightness whenever you snuggled in his arms. Both desires clashed in a contrasting need and want and Satoru could do nothing but keep you close to him, torn between the two.

He kept his hand on your spine, and you clung on him, burying your face in his broad, sturdy chest.

Nevermind the fact that you technically broke up with him. Nevermind that ever since this botched trip started, it was the first occasion in which the two of you held a proper conversation without spewing bravado or sarcasm.

Afterwards, he led you away from the site, and he figured it would be best to go somewhere quieter rather than the festival, and so here you were, at the deserted lounge.

You had calmed down for the most part, and slowly you felt heat in your cheeks. In hindsight, you could've tried using cursed energy to blast the door too, why didn't you think of that earlier?

And yet, unaware of your internal musings, Satoru's thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely, and blame it on his insensitivity—he chose this moment to drop it without hesitation.

"I want you back," he declared, void of any hesitation. "I'll be better, I promise. Those things you hate—tell me, and I'll make sure not to repeat them again."

He wasn't the sharpest when it came to picking up on your feelings, but Satoru vowed that if it bothered you that much, then he would do his best to avoid doing it.

But you... you were still trying your best to grasp the situation. Amidst the plot twist you just experienced tonight, his blatant proclamation was the last thing you expected so you only managed a "What?"

He held your gaze, eerily serious. “I don’t want to break up. It’s hell. We can—I can still fix this.”

He looked sincere, unlike the usual empty promises he’d give you after you went off on him. And suddenly, you understood.

“…really?”

“Yeah. Just give me another chance. I’ll prove it to you,” Satoru said, visibly impatient now. “I won’t give you up. This literally is the fight of my life right now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite yourself. If there was anything that you had learned tonight, it was that apparently you and him were still salvageable.

“And how will you prove it?”

“Just so you wait and see, sweets. I’m gonna relight your feelings!”

It was beyond corny that he took a line from your favorite song. And both of you burst into a laughter at the sheer silliness of it.

You sighed, but this time of relief, in stark contrast to your earlier sighs that afternoon. You were giddy as a smile perched on your lips. “Fine. Let’s give this another shot.”

Satoru felt the tension in his shoulder melt with your answer. A genuine, wide smile emerged from the bottom of his heart and lit up his face.

“Now, this whole trip has been kind of terrible so far, don’t you think?” He made a brief pouty face for a moment before reverting to his mischievous grin His remarkable expressiveness—reminiscent of a child's, in your opinion—never ceased to fascinate you. “I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tomorrow’s our last day.”

“No freaking way!” he exclaimed, whipping out his phone to launch the travel agency app. “We are going to redo our graduation trip. This time just the two of us!”

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with your dork of a boyfriend, but as you reflected on it, you realized that there were also many reasons for you to stay together, especially when he reached for your hand and held it firmly in his grasp.

You were unable to contain your excitement and bubbling with melodious giggles that he adored so much as he whisked you away from Kumamoto in favor of the last bullet train to Kyoto, where your long-awaited true vacation would begin.

Epilogue

“I told you this was a horrible idea. I fucking told you.”

"Can you blame me? Dude was about to throttle me in my sleep."

"Geto," Shoko scowled, her disbelief at his simple answer evident as she gestured wildly with both hands towards the wrecked lavatory, emphasizing her point. "Look—now that he had gone and done it, we're the ones footing the bill for the destruction of property!"

Gojo had blasted the washroom with a freaking Red. And the innkeeper promptly held both Shoko and Suguru responsible since their roommates were captured on CCTV and had vanished without a trace.

Suguru rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I genuinely thought it was a good idea. I didn't expect Satoru to go overboard though," then he threw her a stink eye. "And hey, you were complicit in this too!"

Shoko mumbled a string of curses as she pulled out her phone, snapping some pictures of the undeniable evidence of Gojo’s doing, and then made a call. Suguru frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm reporting him to the headquarters!"

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dearsnow · 6 months ago

Text

TAKE A BITE

- your best friends challenge you to bring the hottest guy at the bar home, and you can’t manage to say no. (jake “hangman” seresin x fem!reader, random original female characters for plot purposes, ⚠️ alcohol, 18+!! adult content, p in v, jake being a sweetheart for once, I’M BEGGING PLEASE BE 18)

word count: 3,033

a/n - dipping my toe into the adult writing scene for once 😚 i have no idea if this is good or not bc my only experience is one commission i did a long time ago and a half-finished fic from a year ago, so i hope it’s satisfactory. jake is also an unexpected visitor but everyone has their moments <3

“So…” Kaiya drawls, drawing along the rim of her condensation-covered glass, “because no one here seems to want to put themselves out there,” there’s a pointed glance at you, “I propose a challenge.”

Sandy squints at her suspiciously. Kaiya always comes up with the most outrageous schemes, usually drawing in you and the rest of your friend group. “What are you thinking?” She asks.

Kaiya’s manicured nail taps on the table. “We each pick a guy, one that individual thinks is the hottest at the bar— first come first serve, of course. And then we take them home. Anyone that’s successful gets next week’s drinks paid for by the rest of us.”

You roll your eyes. She’s a looker, for sure, which is likely the only reason she proposed something like this. She could get with any guy in a hundred mile radius with her luscious black curls and babydoll cheeks. “Are you sure you aren’t just doing this because you don’t want to pay for yourself?”

Kaiya puts one hand to her mouth, eyes widened in comical horror. “I would never! I just want what’s best for my dear friends.” She exclaims, batting her eyes. Sandy laughs in her own charming way. Sandy is cute, sweet. She’d also have no problem taking her pick.

“I want that one.” Kaiya says, pointing at a tall man with shortly cropped curls. From the looks of it, he’s exactly her type; confident, quick-witted, and evidently skilled as he nails a dart throw.

Sandy pretends to squint around the bar before throwing a thumb over her freckled shoulder. “Buzz cut. I like that in a man.” You peer around her, taking in a nice-looking guy with tanned skin.

“And you?” Kaiya asks, reaching out to thumb at the strap of your top. Her small look of concern makes you remember why you’re her friend in the first place.

She’s always looking out for you, always finding opportunities for you to shine when she is so obviously the star. After you broke up with your boyfriend for some unsavory reasons, she resumed her role as your rock. Even now, she wants you to get over what’s in the past. You curse yourself for even considering that she was being selfish.

You look around the crowded bar, eyes scanning over heaps of mildly attractive Navy and civilian men. You’re about to just pick the closest one before your gaze stops on a person who almost immediately takes your breath away. He’s exactly, exactly what you pictured your dream guy to look like.

Kaiya follows your line of sight and smiles. “Let’s get them, tigers.”

“Alright,” You say, standing as your chair creaks from under you, “I’ll take a bite.”

You lean against the cool counter of the bar, smiling at the bartender. The man you picked out has a beer in his hand and a certain swagger in how he scopes out the room. “Could I have one of those, please?” You ask the woman behind the bar, looking pointedly at the guy. She looks at you with a knowing smile, handing you the drink.

“You have good taste.” Your pick says, his voice heavy with a drawl. His green eyes glance down at the drink in your hand, then up to your face. You swear you almost see him lick his lips.

“So do you.” You respond simply. “What’s your name?”

“Jake, but if one of those idiots asks, it’s Hangman.” He nods over to a group of men by the pool table. In a passing flash, you notice the two your friends picked out mingling. How could this one squad have so many attractive people? “I saw you with your friends a bit ago. I have to say, though, you’re more my type. Not that they aren’t nice girls.”

You take a sip of your drink, eyebrows quirked. His arms are basically bulging out of his Navy attire, and you struggle to keep your eyes off of them. Decidedly, you try teasing him, pushing the boundaries of flirting. “You’re my type too. More than the one with the mustache, but he’s not so bad.”

His smile crinkles his eyes, and you think you might swoon. This is good, you tell yourself. It feels good. It’s a bit awkward, with just the slightest bit of tension, but you’re warming up; you just got out of a relationship for god’s sake.

“Trust me, sugar, however good you think he is, I’m better.” He punctuates his sentence with a wink.

You’re drop dead gorgeous, he thinks. Jake meets gorgeous women every day, but not one has made his heart beat just as fast. When you smile up at him through your lashes, he’s done for. Locked, loaded, and done for.

“You’re that confident, hm?” You muse, setting your beer down on the counter. It took a great deal of complacency to not throw yourself at him and wrap yourself in his large hands. He swipes a bead of water off of your bottle, and you think all sorts of things. His fingers dripping, his face hot and sweaty, his hair messed up… you almost melt at the idea. “I think you’re going to have to prove it.”

He holds an arm out to you, and you graciously accept. “I’ll prove it in a million ways, pretty girl. Dance with me and see for yourself.”

Jake leads you to a small area by the jukebox. His palms skim over your waist, pulling you closer but still leaving you aching for more. A song starts playing, one you don’t recognize, but he seems to know exactly how to move to it.

If you’re being totally honest, he’s a really good dancer. And it’s so hot, unbearably so. He doesn’t step on your feet, and he leads your every step without being overpowering. Every song, you seem to get closer and closer until your chest is basically pressed right up against his, and he can still move gracefully.

“How’s this for proof?” He whispers, lips grazing over the shell of your ear. “Rooster’s got moves, but he isn’t half as good as me.”

You push back on his chest gently, raising your eyebrows. “Now I’m starting to think this is just a ploy to get him jealous. Does mustache man get on your nerves that much?” You grin as he takes your hands in his. He rolls his eyes.

“I got the cutest girl in the room all to myself. Who wouldn’t be jealous? The only ploy here is the one where I try and get you to come home with me.”

Your teeth find purchase in your bottom lip, trying to hide your ever-growing smile. You might be getting free drinks more than once. “Buy me a drink and we’ll see how that works out.”

To his credit, Jake seems completely okay with getting to know you before heading out. The conversation is engaging, studded with flirting and genuine curiosity. It’s like he’s hanging on to every word you say, truly attempting to form any sort of connection. Most guys wouldn’t make this effort for a one night stand, especially not someone who looks like they could have a new one every night.

To say he’s beyond saving is an understatement in Jake’s opinion. With every second that goes by, you’re sounding more and more like his dream girl. You like his beer, his favorite place to eat, and you share a few of his hobbies. It’s like a match made in heaven.

As the night progresses, guilt starts eating at the hem of your shirt. The drinks are running low, and the sky is growing dim, and the opportunity to fulfill your challenge is opening up more with every second that ticks by. Do you really want this amazing guy to be a bet?

He stands to leave, offering a hand to help you slip off your bar stool. “Shall we?”

Your hesitation makes him falter just a bit. Jake would be okay with waiting, if he was being honest. Yeah, he’s been semi hard the entire time you ran your finger up and down your drink absentmindedly, but he could take you out on a real date first. One where you stare at him with those pretty eyes and smile your captivating smile.

The feeling takes over as you take in his willingness. “I have something to admit.” You murmur, almost too quiet to pick up over the din of the bar. Luckily for you, he has great hearing.

“Lay it on me, sweet thing. I can take it.” He grins. Your hands find the edges of your shorts and play with the little string on the seam that you’ve been meaning to cut for a few days now.

“I made a stupid agreement with my friends that if I took home the guy I thought was the hottest at the bar, then they’d pay for my drinks next time.” You blurt out. His eyes widen slightly, sending a pang of anxiety through you, before his lips curl up into a smile.

He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders, spinning you towards the entrance of the bar. “Well, we wouldn’t want a nice girl like you to pay for her own drinks, huh?”

You arrive at your small house and fumble with the lock while Jake presses hot kisses to your neck. You’re biting back a whimper as the door finally swings open, walking short, hurried steps into the bedroom. His hands are all over you, burning like fire. They’re gripping at your shirt, your waist, the column of your throat, your upper thigh— anywhere he can get ahold of. You pull off your shirt as the back of your knees hit the soft mattress.

Before you can blink, Jake has taken off his shirt too, and his hands are kneading the bottom of your breasts, beneath your lacy bra. “You sure?” He asks. You nod vigorously, unhooking your straps with your fingers, but he just looks down disapprovingly. “With your words, baby.”

“Yes.” You breathe. With that confirmation, he wastes no time.

Your clothes are tossed to some unknown corner of your room. You couldn’t care less about where they ended up, not when Jake is running his fingers over your hardening nipples.

He ghosts over them with just enough pressure to get you cursing. He’s hardly done anything and you can still feel a wetness gathering between your legs. When he moves up, taking your left nipple in his mouth, his bare thigh pressing between yours, a gasp escapes your mouth.

“That good?” He asks. His low voice sends vibrations up your chest, and you utter a quiet confirmation. He pays some attention to your other breast as you practically grind against his thigh, desperate for any sort of friction where you need it most.

He gives you a playful sigh, looking down at your writhing body. You look gorgeous, and knowing that his slight touches are enough to make you squirm is the ego boost of the century. Your eyelashes give a slight flutter at his next words. “Patience. I’ll give you what you want eventually, don’t worry.” His hand slips down and squeezes your thigh encouragingly.

“Now, Jake, please.” You almost whine. It’s embarrassing how well he seems to figure out your body. Even now, he’s kissing his way down your neck, finding every place that heightens your growing arousal. You hook your legs around his waist and rest your arms on the sides of his neck. “I want what I want now.”

It’s amazing how quickly your words travel to his dick. Jake’s roaringly hard, and you can feel it pressing against your inner thigh. You rub your legs up and down, teasing, drawing the most beautiful groan out of his open mouth. You’re going to be the death of him, he thinks.

“You drive a hard bargain, darlin’, and I’m not one to refuse.”

His hands travel down your body, taking time to caress your sides and send shivers up your spine. When he finally reaches the puddle under you, he quirks his eyebrows. “That excited?”

You roll your eyes at him, even though all he can see is the slightest movement of your face. “Get on with it, cowboy.”

He chuckles and places a small kiss on your hipbone. “Yes ma’am.”

He slips one finger inside you, pulling a soft noise from your swollen lips. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts. “Might take you a bit to get used to me.” He curls the finger gently, and you see stars as it brushes up against the spot inside of you that you can’t reach yourself. He’s bigger, stronger, longer, wider. A second finger joins the first, the digits stretching you deliciously.

A pressure begins to build in your stomach as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles. Ah, fuck, he knows what he’s doing. Your hips buck up slightly on top of your mattress, pressing your core into the palm of his hand. “Please.” You squeak.

He frowns, but his pupils are blown up in pure ecstasy. “Well excuse me for trying to give you a good time.” His free hand moves to pinch the curve of your ass lightly. You sit up fully and trail your nails down his back, reveling in the shiver it draws from him. With one smooth motion, you take his cock in your hand and give him a small stroke that has him jolting in his place.

“We can both have a good time if you would put on a condom and fuck me already.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop and consider how needy they sound. They seem to work, though, as he smirks at you and guides your hand up and down his length.

“I’m guessing your dresser drawer is ready for stuff like this?” He asks. You feel your face grow warmer at exactly how right he is as you slide the drawer open and grab one. “Ah, you’ve even got my size. What a responsible girl you are.” His voice comes out as a half laugh, and you try to stifle your own laughter with the palm of your hand.

“I like to be prepared.”

“Might as well throw the smaller ones away after tonight. You’ll only want mine when I’m done with you.” He’s so cocky it’s funny instead of off-putting. You hand him the condom and he rolls it over himself. He has a right to be cocky, you think, with a body like that. All taut muscle and chest hair. When he brings his hand up to the back of your neck to lower you down on your bed, your heart gives a mighty flutter.

“Prove it.” You say, for the second time that night. He gives you a look that says he’s going to prove it more than once, over and over until you’re begging him to keep proving it, then a bit more after that.

Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his tip pressing into your warm entrance. As he pushes forwards slowly, teasingly, you’re suddenly aware of just how big he is. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever felt, and despite how wet you’ve become, it’s a lot to handle. You wince as his length stretches you, waiting for the feeling to shift from uncomfortable to ungodly good.

“You bit off more than you can chew, didn’t you?” Jake teases. “We can stop if you want, just say the word.”

Your steady voice challenges him as you try to pull it together. “Keep going. I can take it.”

He doesn’t know how, but Jake gets impossibly harder. He indulges you, though, leaving small kisses on your cheeks to distract you from the pinching pain. Once he’s completely bottomed out, you breathe a sigh of relief. Then, of course, you notice that it feels good. Really good.

He’s pressed right up against a spot that has you seeing stars, and when he moves, slowly at first, the drag forces a moan from deep in your throat. You feel so full, so complete. His pace picks up, and you close your eyes.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” He praises, voice strained. The movement of his hips is delicious. Smooth, quick, deep. When his fingers find his way to your clit, you almost finish right then and there.

You’re panting, breath coming out in hot waves against the nape of Jake’s neck. He shivers at the feeling, pressing closer to you to soak in more of that warmth. “Jake, I’m- I’m gonna…” you trail off, closing your mouth as another whimper tries to sneak out.

“Go for it, sweetness. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

With one, two, three more strokes, you feel the knot within you beginning to unravel. Your nails rake down his sides, one of his hands is gripping your waist and the other is firmly attached to your bundle of nerves, and his mouth is suddenly on yours, muffling your noises. It’s overwhelming. With one sharp gasp, you clench down hard and come undone.

Jake follows soon after as he pulls out with a groan. The sound falls heavily on your blissed-out ears.

You sit up, taking his face in your hand. “You’ve proved it. Oh, and I’m officially tonight’s lucky winner.” You say with a beaming smile. He scoffs lightly.

“You were a winner the minute you stepped into that bar.” He winks at you as your hand moves down to rest on his collarbone. “Just let me join in on your winnings when you cash out.”

“In your dreams, cowboy. The most you’ll get is a beer or two before my friends take their cards away.”

He blows a little air out of the side of his mouth before collapsing onto your bed like he owns it, pulling you into his arms. “I’ll take what I can get if it means I can see you again.”

You sigh happily, snuggling into his chest. “Is that a promise?”

“Sure is. The Hard Deck, next Friday. Bring your friends and we’ll figure it out from there.”

Taglist: @seitmai

#solar eclipse.#total eclipse.#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun maverick x reader #top gun x reader #top gun #top gun hangman #top gun fandom #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun movie

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 2 months ago

Text

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 5

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4

Eddie’s just dropped his response in the requested copy of Romeo and Juliet. He’d looked furtively around the library, trying to see if anyone was paying him an abnormal level of attention.

No one even looks up.

There’s a mousy girl in the corner reading a comic book, some band girl muttering to herself as she frantically pulls books off the shelf, and Nancy Wheeler writing, fast enough that Eddie’s surprised the lead of her pencil doesn’t snap clean off.

Could it be her?

Eddie squints at her, trying to look past her frizzy hair and prissy face to what must be hidden underneath. Before he finds any clarity, she looks up from the page in front of her, already scowling before she meets Eddie’s gaze.

Eddie startles, damn-near sprinting out of the library, his smoker’s lungs wheezing hard enough to damn-near expel themselves from his lungs.

No way in hell is it Wheeler—she’s way too scary, and besides, no one’s ever accused her of being an athlete. That band girl, maybe? She looked feisty enough to kick ass at organized sports-ball.

The secret’s burning a hole through his heart and he wants, no, needs, to tell someone.

Eddie feels deranged with it, almost manic as he rushes to find someone, anyone, he can talk to. Hell, right now he’d take Hagan if he didn’t think the dude would punch him in the face.

Luckily, he smacks into Gareth before anything gets that dire. The kid’s obviously rushing through the parking lot to catch the bus before it leaves without him, stranding him at the school before the weekend can truly start.

“Dude—” he stutters out as Eddie latches onto both of his shoulders and begins shaking him about. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Gareth smacks him off, and Eddie stumbles back, almost buzzing with the frenetic energy built up from weeks of getting love letters in his locker and not being able to tell a soul. Eddie grabs onto him again and just keeps shaking, lest his soul quiver right out of his body. “I can’t keep it in anymore, man,” Eddie says, and he can tell from the bug-eyed look on the other boy’s face that he’s not picking up what Eddie’s putting down. “I’ve gotten four letters, Gare-Bear, four!”

He enunciates the last word with an even harder shake until Eddie can hear his teeth clack together. Gareth makes an unholy noise, like a cat submerged in bathwater, and damn-near claws Eddie’s face off in his attempts to get away. Eddie ends up standing in the parking lot, still holding the shoulders of Gareth’s flannel up despite there no longer being a body in it.

“And each one is sweeter than the last!” Eddie cries, maliciously dropping the flannel into a puddle.

Gareth squawks, bending down to scoop his outerwear up from the ground and twist it until some of the water sops out of it and back to the pavement from whence it came. He’s not looking at Eddie at all. God, he knew he should have picked Doug.

“So, why are you telling me about it?” Gareth gripes.

Left unspoken, but patently obvious between them, is that Jeff, Eddie’s usual secret keeper, is entirely absent. Eddie twirls one of his own curls, bringing it up to shield the blush that’s no doubt blooming on his face as he admits, “Jeff would make fun of me.”

Besides, Jeff’s been weird all day, eyes darting away from Eddie’s like he’s got some sort of disease that might be catching.

He doesn’t want to talk to Jeff right now.

Giving it up as a bad job, Gareth slings his sopping flannel over one shoulder with the beleaguered sigh of a single mother and finally meets Eddie’s eyes.

“Dude,” he says, voice that of someone delivering a deadly blow. “I’m going to make fun of you.”

Eddie can feel himself pouting, does absolutely nothing to try to stop it as he mutters, “knew I should’ve confided in Hagan,” too quietly for Gareth to hear.

“Now, where are these stupid letters?”

Eddie throws his hands up and takes two showily large steps back as he declares, “well, I’m not going to show you now!”

“Oh, Jeff,” Gareth calls, all sing-songy and sly.

Eddie lunges forward to slam his palm over Gareth’s mouth even though Jeff had disappeared from the school long ago. With his hands so close already, he’s hard-pressed to stop himself from wringing Gareth’s scrawny neck.

Before he knows it, Eddie finds himself settled in his room, the letters strewn about Eddie’s unmade bed.

Gareth reads them all; he laughs at all the parts that are sweetest, and despite being born an only child, Eddie can feel himself developing one hell of a Cain instinct. Maybe Cain was actually a cool guy, and Abel drove him to it with his incessant wheedling.

Eddie wouldn’t know; he’s never read the bible.

“Dude, she’s a jock?” Gareth asks, peering down at the letter with a level of glee Eddie’s never seen on the other boy’s face.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Eddie asks, taking sadistic enjoyment in the way Gareth’s nose wrinkles with disgust. He rips—gently!—the letter out of Gareth’s hands and gathers them all back together, intent to hide them from any more prying eyes.

“I was reading that!”

“Girls can do sports,” Eddie replies snootily, tucking the letters away beneath his pillow. “And besides, there’s always cheerleaders.”

All that does is make Gareth start laughing again. “You think you can bag a cheerleader?”

He raises his hand threateningly, one wrong word from smacking that look off his face, the way Eddie’s dad had always threatened. “Do you want to walk home?” Eddie demands.

Eddie’s doubtful it was the threat that got Gareth to stop laughing—they both know they’ll spend the rest of the evening eating stale cereal and watching whatever’s on TV before falling asleep in Eddie’s small bed—but the silence is still welcome.

It lasts a solid three seconds before Gareth asks, “you’re not afraid it’s all a joke?”

Eddie’s going to kill him.

***

The day’s been long despite Steve, Chrissy, and Jeff all skipping first period. Still, nothing could stop him from taking precious time out of his weekend to pick up any notes Eddie might have written.

It’s becoming normal now, to skulk behind Chrissy through the library as she picks up notes. What’s that saying about the third time being a pattern? And there, tucked reverently into a copy of Romeo and Juliet—Chrissy’s idea, not his—is an envelope with Secret Admirer written across it in bold, cursive font. Like Eddie’d gone out and gotten a quill and ink pot just for the occasion.

The ink’s so black, it still looks wet, but when Steve caresses the letters, they don’t even smudge. They both stare down at it where it’s still clutched between Chrissy’s fingers. Chrissy, ever the good friend, waits for his next move.

“Want to come over?” he asks, tired of impersonal whispers in quiet libraries. He wants a girl’s night, the way he and Carol used to before she’d started dating Tommy and everything had gotten so stilted. “I can paint your nails.”

Chrissy doesn’t even hesitate. She’s beaming as she puts the envelope carefully into her book bag, grabs his arm, and drags him out of the room.

She doggedly follows his car all the way home to his big empty house, her headlights beaming light and warmth straight into his heart.

The porch light’s on in front of his house, a beacon leading him home from his rapidly darkening driveway. He always leaves it on, something about its cheerful light making his dark house seem more welcoming, even more so now that he’s got a friend parking her car right behind his.

He’s glad not to get run out of town, but more than that, he’s grateful that it was all just a mistake, that he doesn’t need to let another friendship fizzle out into nothing.

“Are your parents home?” she asks as she bounces out of her car and up to his side.

“Almost never,” Steve replies, not turning back to her, unwilling to see the expression on her face as he leads her to the front door and ushers her inside once it’s unlocked.

He slides his shoes off, and she copies his movements before following him up the stairs. They settle onto his bed, and he’s tempted to make a wise-crack about what boyfriends and girlfriends usually do in beds, but he’s a little afraid she might slap him, so all he says is, “did you bring it?”

Chrissy rolls her eyes, “of course I brought it.”

She’s already made herself comfortable laying on her stomach, but she dutifully reaches toward the ground to rifle through her bag and pull the envelope that’s been burning a hole in it free. Steve descends on it like a drowning man on land.

He lays on his stomach beside her, tempted to kick his feet and twirl his hair as he slots his finger into the envelope and opens it with the precision born from years of practice opening his parents’ mail.

It’s only as he pulls the tab open that he notices it’s not an envelope at all. Eddie had cleverly folded the note he’d written into the shape of an envelope, tucking the tab into it to keep it closed. He smooths the creases out and devours the words.

Secret Admirer,

I want to learn everything about you– the color of your eyes, how your lips curve when you smile, how soft your hands are, the sound of your laughter. But more than that, I want to know what you love, along with all of your deepest wants and needs. You’ve piqued my curiosity with your scant answers. I can’t help but want more.

Unfortunately, there’s not enough room on the page for the unrelenting number of questions flooding my mind. I know the point of being a secret admirer is that it’s a secret, but I hope that if you really do like me, you won’t stay secret for long.

I came up with a game I think could be fun! I’ve filled mine out already, for you to keep. Recopy it onto a separate sheet and return it with your next note. That way I get to keep your answers and you can have mine. I also wrote little notes on the back for some of them. I couldn’t help myself.

Yours,

Eddie

And there, tucked behind the envelope is a notecard, Eddie’s usual sloppy handwriting covering it with that same, black ink. But he’s circled his answers in red, and added little numbers next to some of them.

||Rock or Pop 1 || Board Games or Sports Games 2 || Early Bird or Night Owl || Reading Or TV || Big Spoon or Little Spoon 3 || Outer Space or The Ocean 4 || Art or History || Alcohol or Weed 5 || Cats or Dogs || Holding Hands or First Kiss 6 || Winter or Summer || Grease or Star Wars || Gold or Silver || Halloween or New Year’s Eve || Vampires or Werewolves 7 || Drive-In or Movie Theater || Back Seat or Under the Bleachers 8 || Cuddling or Dancing || Slides or Swings 9 ||

Steve flips it over and finds more little numbers in red, each with a corresponding blurb.

1. Pop is fun if you’re into that, but nothing beats a good guitar riff.

2. I know you’re into sports, sweetheart, but come on, board games are the obvious winner.

3. If you prefer being the big spoon, I’m willing to compromise <3

4. If you pick the ocean, then you’re braver than me! That’s a body of water you can’t even see the bottom of! How are you cool with that?

5. If you know me, and it really seems like you do, then my answer here is obvious.

6. I bet you’ve got really nice hands, sweetheart. Would love to feel them in mine someday.

7. Werewolves are cool, too, but come on, vampires fit my aesthetic way better.

8. Under the bleachers would probably be cool, too, but my van’s a lot warmer (does that count as a backseat?)

9. I was always that kid who would go down the slide and pretend there was a dragon chasing me, what about you?

Steve smiles down at the card and all the secrets it holds.

“Aww, that’s so cute!” Chrissy says.

Steve, for the first time, gets the inexplicable urge to hide Eddie’s words behind his hands. He doesn’t because that would be insane, and also she’s already seen it. So, all he says is, “help me respond?”

She does.

Eddie —

I don’t love like you do, not so easily and with my whole heart. But I love my best friend, and I like a whole lot more—hopefully that’s enough.

I’m just as greedy for answers as you are. I want to write all your answers down on flash cards, study them like you might test me on them. If you do, I’m determined to get an A+.

I hope my own answers satisfy, even if they don’t include my face, my smile, or my name. But my eyes? They’re brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours. I could fall into your eyes and die happy.

Yours, Always,

Your Secret Admirer

P.S. This time, put your reply in The Anatomy and Physiology textbook, right next to the diagram of the human heart.

Chrissy tears up at the bit about his best friend, but luckily doesn’t comment, just keeps spinning his yarn into gold. She dutifully re-writes the answer card as well, letting Steve circle his own answers with her pretty pink pen as she peers over her shoulder.

“It’s kind of funny how many of your answers are opposites,” Chrissy says, once they’re done.

Steve frowns, staring between both cards. She’s right; between all the questions, they’ve got three in common: they both chose holding hands over first kisses, drive-ins over movie theaters, and cuddling over dancing.

It’s not much to build a relationship on.

“Yeah, funny,” Steve replies, trying for chill but his voice comes out all wrong.

“Steve?” Chrissy asks, sounding hesitant herself now. “None of that matters, you know that right?”

Steve doesn’t respond; he’s too busy looking between each filled-out card, debating whether changing some of his answers might be for the best.

As if she can sense his thoughts, Chrissy snatches them both from his hands.

“Hey!”

He goes to snatch them back, but she’s pushed them behind her, glare fierce enough to give him pause. “None of that matters,” she says, voice firm. “You really think whether you like gold or silver better is a deal-breaker for a relationship?”

She’s right, that’s not what’s doomed this whole thing before it’s even started—it’s Steve. Steve, who’s a boy, and a jock, and not very bright.

He’s always the problem.

“You hear me, Steve?” Chrissy asks. She’s leaning toward him now, eyes blazing with a conviction he doesn’t quite understand. “You’re perfect just the way you are, okay?”

His throat’s all clogged up so he just nods, looking down at her hands where they’re clutching tightly enough to his comforter that the beds of her nails turn pink, and her knuckles bleach white.

She’s got thin, pretty fingers, and jagged nails. These are the hands that can write letters Eddie will want to read; it’s got nothing to do with silver, or gold, or any of that shit.

It’s Steve.

“Did you really want to paint my nails?” Chrissy asks, biting her lip and not meeting his eyes.

Steve’s up off the bed in an instant, ready for the distraction she��s handed him. He rifles around in the bathroom and comes back with a crate of nail polish which he immediately shoves into her chest with enough gusto that she makes a little oof! noise.

“Pick your poison,” Steve says, watching as her eyes grow wider with every new color she picks up.

“You have so many,” she breathes, touching the small glass bottles almost reverently before picking up a pale pink color that suits her. “What about this one?”

She looks so unsure, like his opinion on her choice of nail polish is the most important thing in the world. Steve’s heart squeezes beneath his ribcage. “‘course, Chris.”

He settles onto the bed, legs criss-crossed. He waits for Chrissy to match his pose before grabbing her hand. She curls her fingers into a fist, a breath shuddering out of her before she forces her hand back open.

Steve doesn’t comment on the ragged state her nails are in. He just grabs a nail file from the crate and smooths them down as best he can. He buffs her nails out before finally grabbing her chosen color and gives the bottle a shake.

The first coat goes on quick, Chrissy watching each flick of the brush like it’s fascinating.

“You’re really good at this,” she says, sounding shocked.

Steve presses her hands down on the bed to keep them still as the first coat dries. “Thanks,” he replies, still not looking up at her. “I used to do Carol’s like every week.”

There’s a silence in the room now that feels one step to the left of stilted. He doesn’t know what to do about it, so he picks up her hand and blows on the nails like that will speed anything up at all.

“Can I do yours next?”

At that, Steve finally looks up from Chrissy’s nails to meet her eyes. She’s biting her lip, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.

“Do you want to?” Steve asks.

No one’s ever painted his nails before, not even Carol. But in the face of Chrissy’s earnest, nervous expression, he can’t say no.

That’s how he finds himself at school on Monday with bright yellow nail polish painted on each of his fingers, the edges already chipped from where he couldn’t stop himself from picking at it.

No one says a thing.

PART 6

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #steddie #my fic #I did my best with the formatting of the letter on his one lol #tumblr is Not helping with it so :shrugs:

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runnning-outof-time · 10 months ago

Text

Hasn’t Burned Down Yet | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @asherlockfandom

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) proves that she's still not one to be messed with when it comes to her business. Tommy's happy he's not the one in the line of fire this time.

Warnings: drinking, mentions of smoking

Word Count: 3475

A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long to share this one with y’all…I’ve been going through it lately hah. I had a bunch of fun writing it though. I hope you like it. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: this can be read as a standalone, but to really know the Tommy and (Y/N) in this story, I suggest you check out the first part: The House’ll Burn Down…you can find it HERE.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

"Someone's waiting up front for you, (Y/N)," Anna, one of (Y/N)'s employees, announced as she came into the back of the shop.

"Tell them I'll be out in five," (Y/N) responded, her eyes not leaving the latest sketch she was working on.

"He's not the sort that you keep waiting," Anna stated, her words making (Y/N) look up. The latter expected to see a look of worry on the former's face. Instead a slight smile was present.

"Ok...?" (Y/N) trailed off sounding slightly confused as she stood from her desk and walked to the front of the shop. Her brow stayed furrowed until she made it to the front counter and saw who was waiting for her.

"You forgot about my appointment, didn't you?" the man waiting out front asked, his one eyebrow quirked as a smirk played on his lips.

"Just come back, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) dismissed his teasing question, trying her best to hide her smile as she motioned to him, making Tommy walk around the counter to join her.

"I've got the front," Anna announced, smiling at her boss.

"Thank you, Anna," (Y/N) nodded, sending the younger woman a smile before she began to walk back to the workroom.

"Why do you insist on keeping appointments here?" (Y/N) questioned as she led him to one of the fitting rooms. "This could be done on our own time, you know."

"I thought it was you who insisted on keeping a separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" Tommy commented with a grin, following her into the fitting room before he took hold of her arm and spun her to face him. He pressed his lips to hers and slipped his arms around her waist before she could say a word.

"Separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" she quipped once they'd pulled away, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Was you who wanted it, not me," he reminded her, sending a wink her way. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the gesture, but she couldn't stop her smile from growing. "Wanted to do that from the second I saw you out there," he admitted then.

"Well I'm happy you were able to control yourself, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) commented, patting his chest.

"I try my best, Mrs. Shelby," he responded, making her let out a breath of a laugh before she leaned in and kissed him again. "Your composure's easy to crack," he commented with a grin once they pulled away.

"Let's just get this finished with...before I become upset with you," (Y/N) said with a smile, pushing on his chest to break their embrace so that she could grab the things she needed to begin taking measurements.

Truthfully she knew the measurements of her husband by now, but Tommy still insisted on these fittings. He wanted to make sure that things were perfect. It wasn't that he doubted his wife's work, if anything it was because this gave him another chance to spend some time with her. Time was something that neither had much of due to their busy schedules.

Surely you’ve noticed by now that things have - obviously - changed between (Y/N) and Tommy. It most certainly didn't happen overnight though. After (Y/N) put Tommy in his place, she fully expected him to take his business elsewhere. But he stuck around, and when he realized that she wasn't going to change how she dealt with him, he decided to change his approach. One thing led to another and eventually, as of two months ago, (Y/N) found herself with a new surname. She honestly couldn't think of a time where she's been as happy as she is now.

Along with getting married, (Y/N)'s business has also taken off. She's now one of the most respected tailors in not only Small Heath, but the entirety of Birmingham. She worked hard to gain her reputation, and all of the countless hours that she spent mastering her craft have certainly paid off.

"What will you be wearing to the event?" Tommy decided to make conversation whilst (Y/N) was still taking measurements.

"Since when is that something you care about?" she playfully quipped in response as she moved over to her clipboard and wrote a few notes before returning to him.

"I want to make sure you match me," he gave his reason.

"Oh I'll make sure you do, darling," she smiled at him, her eyes finding his for just a moment before she motioned for him to hold his arms out so that she could take the measurements for his suit's jacket.

She bit on her bottom lip to try and conceal the smile as she brought her tape measure up and held it against the underneath of his arm. She did this to both sides before moving it down to hold it against his torso. She really had to bite on her bottom lip as she slowly moved her hand down along his ribs. Just like she expected him to, Tommy flinched the second her fingers touched the space below his ribs.

"Stop moving," she teasingly chastised him, continuing on with making her measurements.

Tommy just grunted in response, watching her closely as she finished with his left side and moved onto his right. Here she slowed her actions down substantially. He couldn't help but flinch again when her fingers brushed over that same spot.

"I said stop moving, Thomas," she rebuked him again, lifting her gaze up to match his, showing him the smile that was present on her features.

"You know what you're doing," he commented, his eyes narrowing as they stayed locked onto hers.

"I do," she chirped, tilting her chin upwards, "very well."

"Then you should know..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes, "that I know those exact same spots on you," he paused, his eyes dropping to sneak a glance at her frame, "very well," he finished his statement by reaching out and pressing his fingers into the skin of her sides, where she was extremely ticklish.

These actions made (Y/N) shriek and quickly drop her hands so that she could try to get him to stop what he was doing. It wasn't an easy feat. "Tommy, stop!" she exclaimed through her giggles, finally managing to get ahold of his hands and pull them from her sides after a few moments had passed. "We're supposed to be professional here," she hissed at him then, trying her best to hide the smile that just wouldn't stay away. She stopped trying when she noticed that he was already smiling.

"Fair enough," he nodded, showing that he was conceding to her. "Finish your measurements."

(Y/N) let go of his hands with a huff and bent down to grab the tape measure that had been discarded when this all started. They then sent each other a look: (Y/N) to check if he was really finished with his previous tirade, and Tommy to tell her 'no more funny business'.

The stare down lasted a few moments, but nothing else happened once (Y/N) resumed taking her measurements. The only time the envelope was pushed was when Tommy spun (Y/N) around and managed to sneak a kiss just before she crossed the threshold into the front of the shop.

(Y/N) made sure that Tommy's suit complimented her dress for the gala they were attending that evening. She had picked out a royal blue evening gown, and made sure that Tommy's suit was a charcoal color and had a blue tie to bring it together. She also wanted to include a blue pocketsquare but Tommy fought it, saying that the tie was enough. (Y/N) finally conceded when Frances came and announced that their car had arrived, instead telling Tommy that he'd need to make this up to her in some way.

Now the event was in full swing. (Y/N) stayed by Tommy's side, joining him in the conversations that he was having. She was able to add meaningful viewpoints, and Tommy appreciated that. Her presence was way more than just a prize on his arm.

"Mr. Shelby, I must bring attention to the fine suit you've got on," Elliot Thorsby, a man who was a prominent figure in automobile sales, began as he approached the couple. (Y/N)'s smile grew as she heard what he said. The suit she made had been getting compliments like this one all evening. "Might I ask where you had it made?"

"Me wife’s the one who made it," Tommy was happy to share, nodding his head to the woman standing on his right. "She makes all of my suits."

"Ahh," Elliot responded, looking surprised as he nodded slowly. "Is she open to taking on new clients?" he asked then, still speaking to Tommy.

"Now that's something that I wouldn't know personally," Tommy began, glancing over at his wife before he continued, "why don't you ask her yourself?"

Elliot held Tommy's gaze for a few beats before it seemed like he snapped out of whatever bubble he was in. That was when he finally turned his attention to (Y/N). "Are you taking new clients, Mrs. Shelby?" he asked, his bushy eyebrows raised in wait.

(Y/N) took a moment to respond to the question. She figured that he deserved to wait a few moments longer. After all it was him who decided to ask it indirectly in the first place. And she honestly quite enjoyed watching him squirm in his spot; obviously not used to being on the receiving side of this sort of situation.

"Well I've already got quite the schedule lined up, but for you, Mr. Thorsby, I'd be willing to make an exception," she finally informed him of her decision, a professional smile gracing her features.

"You would?" he sounded elated, almost like a kid on Christmas.

"I would," she affirmed with a nod.

"Wonderful," Elliot grinned. He paused as a man came to his side and whispered something in his ear. "You'll need to excuse me now, a business matter has come up. We'll reconnect at the end of the evening and schedule a time," he told the Shelby couple once the other man had left.

"That sounds fine," (Y/N) nodded at him, then accepting the handshake that Elliot extended to both her and Tommy. He was the first to leave the conversation, leaving the husband and wife to turn to each other.

"Got you another client," Tommy commented on the previous coversation as he fished the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"We'll see how it goes," (Y/N) answered in a nonchalant manner, smiling at her husband as she shrugged her shoulders.

The earliest Elliot Thorsby was able to come to (Y/N)'s shop in Small Heath was two weeks after their initial conversation date.

She greeted him with a smile before telling Anna that she'd be taking this client and that the younger woman should man the desk while she was gone. Once everything was squared away in that regard, (Y/N) waved on Elliot for him to come back with her.

Things went well with the fitting. (Y/N) was able to get a good read on what Elliot wanted and had some great ideas for a design before she was even finished with the measurements. Now she couldn't wait to get some time alone to get started on her beginning sketches. But first she had to see Mr. Thorsby out.

The two returned to the front of the store. (Y/N) told Anna that she was able to return to her previous project, leaving her and Mr. Thorsby alone at the counter. She quickly got to work on calculating the price of the fitting visit and also what the suit would cost. She then shared that final price with him without second thought.

A few moments passed and Elliot still hadn't offered up the money yet. This made (Y/N) glance up from the ledger she was writing down the sale in. "Is there a problem?" she asked with raised brows, immediately noticing the sour look that was present on his face.

"Don't you think the price is a bit...much?" he questioned her.

"No, sir. It's spot on with what I normally charge," there was no hesitation in her answer.

"Yeah, but..." he trailed off, obviously not pleased with the response he was given. "But given my relationship with your husband, and the business we've conducted together…” he paused again, “well don't you think that warrants a lesser price?"

It took everything in (Y/N) to stop the scoff that she wanted to let out in response to his statement. It made her look of confusion quickly turn to one of surprise. "Your relationship and the manner in which you conduct business with my husband does not have any effect on how I run my business, Mr. Thorsby," she began, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, "I take pride in my work and I know how much my suits are worth."

"But for a man with my standing, don't you think that..."

"You'll pay full price for the suit," she cut him off before he could even finish his statement.

Hearing her blatant demand made his jaw go slack. "And if your husband gets knowledge of the manner in which you're treating his associates?" he decided to try another direction.

"My husband pays full price as well," she quickly shut him down for the second time, not in the slightest bit fazed by his threats.

"Your own husband?" there was bewilderment in Mr. Thorsby's voice.

"He knows how much they're worth," (Y/N) doubled down, once again speaking in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I think you're making a rather grand mistake here, Mrs. Shelby," he tried one last time to try and turn the tides in his favor.

(Y/N) didn't waste a moment worrying about his threat. "I think I'll be just fine," she assured him, a tight-lipped smile forming on her face. She hoped that it added salt into the wound she'd inflicted upon his ego.

"You're not afraid of what'll come once word of this gets out?" he still continued trying. It was almost comical now. She sent him a look; a non-verbal way of asking him 'are we finished here?'. But he paid no attention to it, instead trying one last line that he used when he didn't get his way. "Do you not know how much power I hold?"

Ahh, the power card, (Y/N) thought to herself as she continued to try her hardest and hold back her scoff, where have I heard that one before?.

She was way passed finished with him and his droning on at this point. His pestering had brought her to the end of her professional rope. She was trying like hell to keep herself composed and not lose her cool. She wanted to keep taking the high road.

A few moments passed before she took a deep breath and finally responded: "I've dealt with the likes of you before, Mr. Thorsby. I've been given threats harsher in nature than the one you've just told me. My shop hasn't burned down yet. So I'm not worried about what your comments on the prices of my suits will do to my reputation." Her eyes never left his as she spoke, showing him that she meant every single word.

Another pause arose, and (Y/N) wondered if maybe she'd finally gotten through to him. Maybe he'll finally leave.

But, of course, he stayed standing in front of the counter. "Are you sure this is the path you want to take?" he gave one last try, his eyebrows raising as he tried to keep up his imposing figure. It was more then obvious that said figure wasn't working on (Y/N) though.

"Are you going to pay for the suit, Mr. Thorsby?" she asked him, no longer wanting to entertain his theatrics, her eyes still locked onto his. It became even more apparent as each second passed that she wasn't going to change her mind on this.

"You'll regret this, Mrs. Shelby," he finally conceded, but not without throwing one last threat out there.

"As will you, Mr. Thorsby. Have a nice day," she nodded, still unfazed by all of it as her dismissive goodbye made him turn and exit her shop. She stood stoic and watched as the door shut behind him. Only when she was finally alone did she shake her head and let out a huff. "Prick," she muttered to herself before she tore the ledger sheet out of the book and crumbled it up.

"Do you remember Elliot Thorsby?" (Y/N) asked as she moved over to the mantlepiece in Tommy's office later that evening.

"Course I do," Tommy responded without up looking from the paper he was reading, "what about him?"

"He came for his fitting today," she started, grabbing one of the decanters and an empty glass so that she could pour herself a drink.

"And?" he asked for more information, finally looking up at her just as she spun to face him.

(Y/N) didn't answer right away, instead bringing the glass up to her lips and taking a healthy swig from it. She hissed at the burn that accompanied the whiskey as it slid down her throat and tried her best to smile at her husband. Tommy raised his eyebrows at her as he removed the glasses from the bridge of his nose, now waiting intently for her to share something with him.

(Y/N) brought the glass back up to her lips and held it there as she let the silence linger for a little bit longer. She didn't quite know why she was waiting so long...maybe she enjoyed watching him as he tried to hold his intent composure. "I don't think you should work with him anymore," she finally told him.

"Why not?" he immediately asked for more information.

"He felt that he should pay less for his suit because of his connection to you; felt that I should honor your relationship and then threatened me when I wouldn't adhere to his tactics," she happily told him about her interaction with the businessman.

"He threatened you?" Of course this was the part of her statement that Tommy fixated on.

"Well he tried to...the threats didn't really take," she shrugged, finishing the rest of her glass.

"What did he say to you?" he was still hung up on it.

"Tommy it was nothing," she brushed his worry off. His expression didn't change. (Y/N) let out a sigh before she began walking in his direction. "He told me that I'd lose my clients because he has influence," she told him as she stopped in front of where he was sitting. He looked up at her with raised eyebrows as he turned the chair in her direction. She took that as her signal to sit on his lap. He went back to staring straight ahead once she sat. It didn't take long for her to notice that he still wasn't completely convinced. "Tommy..." she trailed off, taking hold of his chin so that he'd be looking at her again, "what're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that maybe I should go have a word with him."

"I told you it's fine. I handled it, and I'm not worried about what he's claiming he'll do," she assured him. A smile creeped onto (Y/N)'s features as she thought of something else to add. "Besides, it's not like he threatened me with arson...like this one client I had.”

Tommy couldn't stop the grin from forming as he immediately realized what she was hinting at. “Who’d threaten something like that, hmm?” he questioned, playing along with her.

“Someone who really wanted to try his luck,” she answered, letting go of his chin so that she could wrap her arms around his neck.

“I’d say the risk paid off,” he wagered, his hold on her tightening slightly so that he could pull her even closer.

“It seems like it did,” she agreed, leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

Their kiss was short, and he was soon parting from her to share the next move that he’d thought up. “Any business with Thorsby will be finished tomorrow.”

“Stop thinking about him and kiss me, Tommy,” she responded, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.

He chuckled at her abrupt statement and wasted no time in doing what she asked him to. His lips were back on hers within seconds, and Elliot Thorsby was the furthest thing from each of their minds.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @deadcrowcalling

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