#HOW IS EVERY ONE OF YOUR FICS SO AMAZING????

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　DRESS TO IMPRESS IN REAL LIFE

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, Matt's secret girlfriend, participates in the 'Dress to Impress in real life' video.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I added and changed some dialogs that didn't happen on the video, so the fic ended being more complete.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The triplets were buzzing with energy, their house a hive of activity as they set up for their newest video; Dress to Impress, real-life edition. Each round had its own theme, and the first one was Summer Vacation. Y/N had been roped into joining as a surprise guest, and secretly, Matt couldn't have been more thrilled.

The boys had already pulled out all the stops with their outfits. Chris sported a chaotic ensemble: a bucket hat with panels of clashing colors, lime green slides, and denim cargo shorts.

Matt was rocking a relaxed, dad-on-vacation vibe, complete with an oversized straw hat, patterned swim trunks, and a shirt that screamed, 'I don’t care, I’m on island time'.

Nick had gone full beach prep with a striped tank top, sunglasses that were almost too tiny for his face, and a retro cooler box tucked under his arm like an accessory.

As the camera rolled, Y/N was still getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, leaving the boy's to discuss who went better between the three of them.

"Alright." Chris said, pointing a finger at Nick’s cooler. "I’m just saying, if you don’t actually have anything in there, that’s a waste of a prop."

"It’s called committing to the bit, Chris." Nick shot back, adjusting the towel draped over his shoulder. "The cooler is the vibe."

Matt, who was adjusting his sunglasses, glanced toward the bathroom door, his face lighting up as if he could sense Y/N’s presence through the walls.

"Y/N better bring it. I know she’s got something amazing up her sleeve."

Nick rolled his eyes, looking at Matt with a boring expression.

"Why do I feel like you’re already planning to give her every win, no matter what she’s wearing?"

"Because I am." Matt replied bluntly, grinning like the lovesick puppy he was.

The door finally creaked open, and all three boys turned as Y/N emerged. She had nailed the summer vacation aesthetic, wearing a flowy, tropical-patterned sundress, bikini top below it, oversized black Prada sunglasses perched on her nose, and sandals that matched her outfit perfectly. She’d even added a straw beach bag for good measure.

"Okay, Y/N, I see you!" Chris exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Y/N laughed, grinning widely before twirling to show off her look.

"Alright, that’s tough competition. You actually look like you're ready to spend the day at your beach house." Nick gave a low whistle, his blue eyes traveling from her face to her feet and back again. "But I'd say you're in fourth place. You're ready for the beach, not for any summer vacation."

"Fair." Y/N shrugged, take a quick peak at her outfit again before looking at Matt. "What do you think?"

Matt's eyes seemed to be shining like the whole cadence of stars, wandering through every detail of her choice of clothes.

"Are you kidding? That’s... that’s so good. You look like you stepped out of a summer vacation catalog or something." His voice sounded slightly high-pitched with excitement. "Nick's just jealous."

"What? No, I'm not!"

Chris rolled his eyes, already sensing where this was going.

"Oh, here we go."

"Like, if I saw you on the beach." Matt continued, ignoring his brothers entirely. "I’d probably just pass out. That’s how good you look."

"Okay, Matt." Nick said, holding up a hand. "We get it. Obsessive fucker."

The room filled with laughter, Y/N shaking her head but unable to hide the grin spreading across her face, her cheeks heating up.

"Right, first round? I'm second." Matt declared, gesturing toward himself. "Obviously, Y/N was first because, you know, she's Y/N." He gave her a little smile. "Then Nick was third, and Chris was fourth. That’s the average."

"Yeah, unfortunately." Nick muttered, throwing his hands up.

"Well." Chris turned dramatically to the camera and pointed. "They can vote."

Nick, not missing a beat, leaned closer to the camera, his voice dripping with mock confidence.

"Oh, I already know they’re gonna vote for me. Mine’s obviously the best. Unless..." He paused for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow. "These girls wanna sleep with Matt and vote for him."

"What?!" Matt’s eyes widened in pure shock as he whipped his head toward the camera, looking utterly scandalized.

Y/N’s eyes flicked between Nick and Matt, her lips tightening slightly trying to suppress a laugh. It was impossible not to be amused by Nick’s antics.

She knew Nick wasn’t wrong, Matt’s popularity with their audience also had to do with his charm and, let’s face it, how good he looked on camera. There probably were plenty of girls who’d vote for Matt purely because of his looks, even if one of the other boys dressed better.

Nick continued without missing a beat.

"It’s the straight man advantage! You guys..." He gestured wildly at the camera. "Are gonna discriminate against me because I’m gay, and I don't like 'yall back."

At that, Y/N couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking her head.

Matt, still recovering from Nick’s bold accusation, raised a hand defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second." He looked straight into the camera with that intense, sincere gaze that Y/N loved. "Just for the record, I’m completely off-limits. Completely."

The way he said it, firm and definitive, sent a wave of confidence through Y/N. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she crossed her arms, clearing her throat to contain her reactions, trying to play it cool.

Nick, however, wasn’t done.

"Oh, yeah? You really think they care about that?" He teased, smirking as Matt shook his head in disbelief.

Chris rolled his eyes, still laughing.

"Nick, stop trying to guilt-trip them into voting for you."

"I'm not doing anything." Nick replied with a wink, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

"Now, bring the runway on, boys!"

The camera cut to Chris, who had appointed himself the first to strut down their makeshift runway that started from the stairs.

He walked in quick steps before stopping in the center of their camera lens, dramatically fanning himself with an imaginary hand fan.

"Where did you even get the idea of the imaginary fan?" Y/N teased, laughing with the others.

"Shh, it’s part of the vibe." Chris replied, flipping his bucket hat backward with flair. He strolled toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, striking a series of ridiculous poses. "Yeah, you’re welcome." He said as he walked off-camera, leaving the other three in stitches.

Nick went next, cooler in hand.

"Get ready to witness greatness." He said, lifting the retro cooler above his head like it was the Holy Grail, showing it off.

"You go, queen!" Y/N cheered, nodding her head while watching him.

Nick smiled brightly, placing it down carefully and reached for the towel draped over his shoulder, unfolding it with slow, deliberate movements. Too slow.

"This is taking forever." Matt groaned, crossing his arms.

"Nick, it’s been 30 seconds. Just lay the towel down!" Chris yelled.

Nick ignored them, carefully smoothing out the towel on the floor, his face the picture of focus. Once he was satisfied, he walked down the "runway", throwing some expressions to the camera before almost gluing his face to the lens, taking his glasses off.

"Iconic." Y/N said between laughs.

"Thank you, thank you." Nick replied, bowing before dramatically kicking the towel aside as if to signal the end of his performance, his right hand fanning himself as the last act.

Matt was up next.

"Alright, let me show you how it’s done." He said confidently. Grabbing his sunscreen, he opened the cap and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers, dabbing it on his cheeks like football player stripes.

"Well, you gotta stay protected, I guess." Y/N muttered, smiling with how Chris was rooting like crazy.

Laughter escaped her lips as Matt sauntered toward the camera, showing off the sunscreen like it was a designer handbag. He struck a confident pose, holding the product up, before walking back off the camera with an over-the-top smile.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn.

"Your move, Y/N." Nick said, gesturing grandly toward the imaginary runway.

"Alright, alright, give me a second." She said, thinking fast.

She reached into her straw bag, pulling out the pair of oversized sunglasses that she had thrown there at some point, dramatically placing it on her face. Then, grabbing a small beach towel she had tucked inside the bag, she draped it over one arm like a sash.

"What’s happening here?" Matt asked, intrigued.

Y/N strolled onto the "runway" with slow, exaggerated movements like a madame arriving at a five-star resort. Halfway down, she pretended to feel the heat, pulling an actual bottle of water from her bag and taking a sip before fanning herself with her hand.

"It has to have the fan move!" Nick applauded, grinning to the scene before being interrupted by Chris’s comment.

"Of course, I created it."

At the end of the runway, Y/N stopped, tossed her sunglasses off dramatically at the ground, and struck a ridiculous pose with one hand on her hip and the other shielding her eyes as if she was shielding her face from the sun.

"That was solid!" Chris exclaimed, clapping.

Matt, meanwhile, was in awe, hands on his head.

"Are you kidding? That was really good. A thousand points. Game over. Y/N wins. Everyone go home."

Nick scoffed.

"Matt, stop simping for two seconds so we can keep this contest going."

"I’m not simping." Matt argued, clearly lying. "I'm just stating facts."

"Shut up, Matt."

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For the Mix-Matched Madness theme, the camera panned to the boys standing in a line, proudly displaying their chaotic ensembles.

Chris was clad in a bright red varsity jacket over a striped shirt, camo pink shorts, and mismatched knee-high socks with chunky boots.

Matt decided for plaid shorts layered over one plaid pant leg, a pastel blue and yellow sweater vest, and a floppy dog-ear cap.

Nick went to a plaid jacket layered over a striped shirt with a perfectly coordinated tie, and matching sweatpants and sneakers.

"Guys, I’m clearly superior." Nick started, raising his eyebrows as he adjusted his glasses. "My outfit is actually intentional, look at this synergy! It screams fashion-forward."

Matt groaned, rolling his eyes and looking at Chris with a 'is he serious?' expression.

"Nick, you’re wearing matchy-matchy plaid in a mix-matched challenge. You’ve missed the assignment!"

"It’s ironic." Nick shot back, crossing his arms. "I’m doing intentional matching. If I were in a real runway right now, people would actually like my outfit."

Chris scratched his head, looking between them.

"Isn’t that kind of cheating, though?"

Before the debate could escalate further, Y/N stepped into the frame, causing all three boys to give her their attention.

Her outfit was next level: a bright purple sequined crop top paired with one lime green legging on her right leg and a fluffy, neon orange sock on the other. She wore a skirt made of layered, clashing floral patterns that didn’t quite match the fuzzy checkered cardigan she threw on top. To finish it off, her accessories included a leopard-print beanie - the one she stole from Matt's closet -, oversized sunglasses, and two entirely different shoes, a silver stiletto on one foot and a Croc on the other.

The boys gawked.

"Okay, now that’s mix-matched madness." Chris said, pointing at her.

"Girl, you look like you fell into a thrift store... and it worked." Nick added, looking both impressed and slightly annoyed.

"How can you still look so good while wearing... that?" Matt asked, pointing at her outfit with his hand while shaking his head in disbelief.

Y/N twirled dramatically, holding out her skirt as she grinned at the camera.

"Thank you, boys. I like to call this 'chaos with confidence'." She invented the random name, throwing a quick kiss to the lens.

Chris threw his hands up.

"Alright, I’m officially placing second now."

Nick groaned, shaking his head dramatically.

"No way. She’s great, but I’m still winning. Look at this tie!"

Matt laughed.

"Nick, your tie doesn’t save you from breaking the theme. You’re disqualified."

The scene cut to the "runway", where each of them showcased their chaotic outfits with an equally chaotic performance.

First up was Nick. He confidently strutted forward, reaching for the end of his tie. With exaggerated flair, he lifted it as if someone were pulling him forward, his face a picture of mock shock and drama, stumbling forward.

"Ey, keep going!" Chris hollered, nodding enthusiastically.

The moment he reached the end of the runway, he grinned mischievously, running his hand dramatically through his hair and tossing a sultry look at the camera before taking off his pink glasses.

"Work it, Nick!" Y/N chimed in, her laughter mixing with the chaos.

Nick turned on his heel with a laugh, sauntering back to the start and throwing a praying gesture, ignoring how Matt laughed, mockingly imitating his act.

Next, Matt stepped up, adjusting his floppy dog-ear cap before suddenly spinning it backward.

"Showtime." He muttered under his breath, earning immediate chuckles from the others. He walked to the camera with a cocky stride, crossing his arms and bending slightly to the side.

For the final move, he pivoted and moonwalked his way back to the start, nearly slipping on his mismatched shoes but recovering with a grin.

"Did you see that? Effortless." Matt declared, earning boos and laughs from the rest.

"You almost ate it, Matt." Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Chris stepped up next. And, of course, he brought drama.

"Hold my jacket." He said, then immediately shook his head. "Actually, no. The floor will."

With exaggerated aggression, he ripped off one of his red lobster gloves, throwing it to the ground with flair. The glove was followed by his belt, which he unbuckled and tossed with equal energy.

"Oh my God." Y/N looked at the camera with wide eyes.

"What is happening?" Nick cackled, practically doubling over, slapping Y/N's arm.

Chris wasn’t done. He walked up to the camera with an intense expression, holding his hands out and touching the screen, acting as if zooming in.

"Enhance." He said, squinting into the lens. Then, as if the camera wasn’t worthy, he spun dramatically on his heel, walked back, and threw off his varsity jacket mid-stride before striking one final pose.

"Now that’s how you do it." Y/N joked, looking at the camera. "Like and subscribe if you want Chris to make a strip tea-"

"Y/N!"

For Y/N's turn, she adjusted her oversized leopard beanie with a dramatic flair and tilted her sunglasses low on her nose, revealing a dead-serious expression underneath. She strutted forward slowly, dragging her stiletto along the ground for added effect. When she reached the camera, she whipped her head to the side, making her orange fluffy sock the star of the moment.

But it didn’t end there. Y/N suddenly crouched down into a deep squat, raising one hand in the air and striking a pose like she was ready to pounce. The boys immediately broke into cheers and laughter.

"Yes, queen!" Nick shouted, jumping in the place and clapping, laughing loudly.

"She nailed it." Matt said with a proud grin, nodding his head.

Y/N slowly stood, turning to the side as if the camera had disappeared, and walked off like nothing had happened.

"Thank you." She said nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the others applauded.

"Alright, I officially retire." Nick said, throwing his arms to the air in a surrender gesture.

"Same." Chris picked up his lobster glove from the floor, grinning.

Matt sighed, smiling at Y/N's figure.

"She’s unbeatable. Let’s not do these challenges anymore if she’s in them."

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The scene cut to the next category: Rock Concert. The boys had gathered in front of the camera, each flaunting their edgy outfits.

Chris leaned casually against the wall, dressed in all black with his bandana tied around his head. His sunglasses were perfectly placed, and a Bluetooth speaker hung over his shoulder like a statement piece.

"Clearly, I’m the embodiment of rock concert aesthetic." He said confidently, adjusting his speaker strap.

Nick crossed his arms, giving Chris a side-eye. He was sporting his long-sleeved shirt adorned with skulls and intricate spiderweb patterns paired with black cargo pants and chunky boots.

"Please." Nick retorted. "I’ve got literal death on my shirt. That’s as metal as it gets."

Matt, standing in the middle, smirked. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, complete with a silver skull belt buckle and leather pants that practically screamed rockstar.

"Yeah, but have you seen my belt?" He argued, lifting his white shirt slightly to show it off. "This is peak rock concert material. I even coordinated it with my jacket."

"Okay, but who do you think the crowd would look at first?" Chris challenged. "The guy with the bandana, all black, and sunglasses? Obviously me. The speaker only makes it better."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"You look like you’re trying to be a cool dad sneaking into a concert." He teased.

"Alright, alright." Y/N interrupted from off-screen, stepping into the camera frame and effectively stealing the show.

Y/N’s outfit was on another level. She wore a black 'Bon Jovi' cropped top with silver detailing that matched the chains on her leather mini skirt. Fishnet tights peeked out from under the skirt, leading down to a pair of knee-high combat boots that added an extra edge to the look. To top it off, she wore a cropped leather jacket with studs on the shoulders and accessorized with chunky silver jewelry and a black choker.

The boys fell silent for a second, staring.

Y/N smiled brightly at them before turning to the camera, raising her right arm and making the 'rock and roll' gesture by raising her pinky and index fingers and lowering the others.

"'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars and live in hilltop houses driving 15 cars..."

"Girl, what the fuck?" Nick widened his eyes, looking from Y/N to the camera with a look that screamed 'are you guys seeing this?'

Matt laughed loudly, recognizing the song from one of the TikTok trends that Y/N had been obsessing over the past few weeks, being quick in imitating her position, and starting singing with her.

"... the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap, we'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat-"

"Okay, that's enough of that." Chris interrupted the pair, gesturing to them while shaking his head in disbelief. "So, Y/N wins."

Nick groaned dramatically.

"Let's take her out right now. I don't wanna play with her anymore."

Matt couldn’t stop smiling.

"Can we just talk about how she’s nailing this? Like, can we get her to join the band we don’t have?"

Y/N laughed, giving a mock bow.

"Thank you, thank you. Now, let's just be clear, I already won." Y/N said with a sly grin, stepping forward. "You'll all lose time if you keep discussing who's the best between you three."

"How can you be so sure?" Chris crossed his arms, carrying a superior instance.

"Because I actually listen to rock." She said, shrugging like it was obvious. "AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Kansas, Asia... should I keep going?"

Nick groaned.

"Okay, that’s true, but it doesn’t count!"

"Doesn’t count?" Y/N repeated, feigning offense. "I think you’ll find that the fact I actually know rock makes me the winner by default." She turned to Chris. "Tell me. Have 'yall even listened to ‘Highway to Hell’ all the way through?"

Chris hesitated, playing with his earphones.

"Uh... I mean." He looked at Nick. "Probably?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

"Thought so." She crossed her arms. "So, I don’t need a skull belt, all-black everything, or death on my chest. I’ve got the actual music taste. Rock is in my veins, boys."

Nick groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

"She wins. I hate it, but she wins."

"Alright, fine." Chris muttered. "But we still look better."

"Not a chance." Y/N teased, spinning in place again and winking at the camera. "This outfit screams rock goddess."

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The boys were now proudly sporting their "Zoom Meeting" outfits. Chris held up his MacBook, Matt adjusted his glasses with a goofy smile, and Nick tugged at his black tie, looking down at his bright heart-shaped boxer shorts with fake professionalism.

"Alright." Chris started, addressing the imaginary Zoom meeting in front of him. "Gentlemen, let’s get to business. As you can see, we’re all clearly dressed to impress."

"Except for Nick." Matt teased, nodding toward his brother's boxer shorts. "The hearts? A little too much, don’t you think?"

Nick scoffed, feigning offense.

"Excuse me, at least I have this tie that says I’m both professional and emotionally available. A winning combo."

Matt rolled his eyes and gestured to his own look.

"Meanwhile, I’ve got balance. Business on top, relaxation on the bottom."

"That’s literally the whole theme." Chris pointed out with a smirk. "You’re not special, Matt."

Y/N watched from her spot leaning against Matt's bathroom door, her legs crossed as she sipped from her mug of coffee that she made while waiting for them to get ready. She was dressed comfortably yet stylishly, rocking an oversized beige knit sweater that draped perfectly off one shoulder, paired with black leggings and fluffy white socks. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face. Despite the boys' chaotic energy, she was nailing the whole "effortlessly cool" vibe.

"Y/N, you’re way too cozy for a Zoom meeting." Chris said, pointing at her as he adjusted his loose white shirt.

"Well." Y/N said with a playful grin. "Unlike you guys, I know how to mix comfy with class. You all just look ridiculous."

Nick gasped, dramatically clutching the box in his hands.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?! Look at this tie! I’m the epitome of professionalism!"

Chris leaned toward Y/N, pointing at Matt.

"What about him? He’s literally in boxer shorts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipping from her mug to hide her smile.

"You're all wearing it, dumbass." Her eyes lingered on Matt's red boxer shorts for a moment too long. "It’s really interesting that someone would think boxer shorts are appropriate for a Zoom meeting, actually."

Matt smirked, striking a random pose.

"Are you jealous?"

"No?" She said quickly, shaking her head. "I mean, it’s not like anyone else on the Zoom would see them, right?"

The other two brothers caught on instantly, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Y/N." Nick teased. "Are you saying you wouldn’t let your Zoom co-workers see your boxers?"

"Nick!" She exclaimed, throwing an exasperated look at him. "That’s not the point!"

Chris chimed in, laughing.

"Yeah, Matt. She’s definitely jealous. She wishes she could wear boxers to a meeting."

"I do not!" Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I just... don’t understand why he’d even bother wearing the shirt if he’s just going to go full casual anyway."

"It’s called commitment to the aesthetic." Matt said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, discretely squeezing the exposed skin. "Something you clearly wouldn’t understand."

"Oh, I understand commitment." Y/N shot back with a smirk, meeting his eyes momentarily. "But let’s be honest, none of you are winning any awards for those outfits."

"Excuse me?" Nick said, pretending to be outraged. "I’m clearly the winner here."

"Winner?" Chris scoffed. "You’re wearing socks pulled up to your knees, bro. That’s not even close to a win."

Y/N chuckled as she watched them descend into a full argument over who had the best Zoom look, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering back to Matt’s outfit. Something about the casual confidence he exuded - boxers and glasses - had her feeling just a little possessive and turned on.

"Alright." She announced, clapping her hands to get their attention. "If you’re all done arguing, let’s see who can really sell their look with a runway walk."

The boys' faces lit up, and they quickly got into character.

Nick was up first, confidently sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, arms spread wide like a figure skater. As he came to a stop, he reached for his boxer shorts and dramatically lowered them until they hit the ground, shouting a little "Oh!".

Matt immediately yelped.

"Nick!" He yelled before lunging forward to cover Y/N's eyes with both hands.

"Matt! What are you doing?!" Y/N laughed, trying to swat his hands away while Chris doubled over in hysterics.

"Protecting your innocence!" Matt declared, keeping his hands firmly over her face.

Nick, unfazed, quickly pulled his boxers back up and began walking toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, tugging at his tie and making ridiculous faces as though he were a real model.

"You’re unbelievable!" Chris murmured through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Well, we've got 2 strippers now-"

"Y/N!"

Nick turned dramatically to face her and winked.

"You’re welcome for the show."

Next, it was Matt’s turn. He walked to the middle of the floor, cracking his knuckles with a sly grin before suddenly dropping to his hands and knees.

"Uh, Matt?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What...?" Nick added, genuinely confused.

Then, without warning, Matt lifted his left leg to the side like a dog at a fire hydrant.

The realization hit everyone at once, recognizing the movement from one of the rounds of DTI that Matt and Chris played, and the room erupted into cheers and laughter.

"That was perfect!" Chris shouted, clapping his hands.

Matt stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his shirt with a smirk, and walked toward the camera with crossed arms, striking a serious pose like a model in a high-fashion commercial.

"Okay, that was actually cool." Y/N admitted, giggling as he walked back to join them.

When it was Chris’s turn, he shook his head with a grin.

"I’m sitting this one out." He said.

"What? Why?" Nick asked, incredulous.

Chris shrugged.

"I’m already the main event. I’ll let Y/N steal the spotlight this time."

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, so now I have to go?"

"You got this!" Matt encouraged, nudging her toward the runway.

"Fine." She said, standing up and straightening her oversized sweater dramatically.

Y/N walked off the camera and took the book she'd been reading the past few days from the coffee table, walking back to the frame before delicately putting it on her head like a balancing act. She strutted confidently toward the camera, balancing it all the way, then stopped to pull out her mug, striking a victorious pose before taking a slow, exaggerated sip. The boys erupted in applause.

"You can call me Barbie now." She started, turning to the boys while opening a wide smile before pretending that her hand was a microphone. "On top of the world where I can see everything before me reaching up to touch the sky-"

"Okay, singer girl, pipe down a bit." Nick raised his right hand, exchanging perplexed looks with Chris, who was laughing.

"Okay, she wins." The youngest admitted, shrugging in defeat.

"Unreal." Matt said, looking at her with obvious pride. "You’re way too good at this, Y/N."

"Okay, okay, she wins. No one can top that." Nick nodded at Y/N. "But I think Chris gets second place in this one."

"No, I give you number one." Chris insisted, pointing to Nick while Matt just observed.

"I can't accept that. I'm just happy Matt's wearing his blue light glasses again." Nick's voice turned dramatically high-pitched, clearly imitating the fandom.

Before anyone could react to him, Matt ripped his glasses off of his face, bending it backward until it snapped, small pieces flying everywhere.

"Matt, why would you do that?" Y/N yelled, looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth - just like the other two - before pouting, looking miserably at the shattered pieces. "I liked that one."

"I don't like those stupid jokes." Matt simply replied, looking unfazed at his brothers and Y/N.

Nick and Chris kept looking from Matt to the camera and back, their expressions full of shock.

"You're going to buy another one just like that one, I don't even care." Y/N ordered, crossing her arms and looking directly at Matt, raising her eyebrows as if to say 'dare disobey me.

"Fine." He sighed. "Sorry."

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Extra - comments:

"okay but can we talk about matt literally saying ‘I’m off limits’? someone tell me what’s going on here 🤡"

"nick casually calling out matt girls for voting on matt only bc they want to sleep with him had me SCREAMING 😭"

"why was Y/N blushing when matt said he was off limits? I SEE YOU, GIRL!!!!"

"the dynamic between Y/N and matt is giving major dating vibes"

"wait, why does matt always seem to hype Y/N up just a little more than chris and nick? like, we get it, dude. she’s awesome. but tone it down, or we’ll all start connecting dots 🤨"

"as a fellow rock fan, I have to say Y/N listening to AC/DC and bon jovi automatically makes her my fave"

"not Y/N convincing matt with zero effort to do the rockstar trend with her 🤧"

"I’m not saying I ship Y/N and matt... but I also kind of ship Y/N and matt. the way he looked at her with that dress??? man, I know that look"

"matt breaking his glasses and then Y/N ordering him to buy another one and him ACCEPTING IT???? and saying sorry???? omg that's just girl boss right there 🙏🏻"

[rosenclaws]

XXX.Com || Pornstar Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: Logan needs money and work is hard to find when you're from another universe, luckily he lands himself a job as an adult film actor. Lets just say, he's a natural.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!!, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, porn (obvi lol), jerking off, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, scratching, oral f!receiving, rough sex, fake professor x college student (its the porno they're filming), he calls you teach in the porno, reader has a stage name (sunshine), flirting.

a/n: This was inspired by the delicious pornstar logan fics by @bpmiranda I wanted to try my own twist on the trope but plz go check out their fics they are amazing!!

Coming from another universe had its fair share of problems. For one his other self was a very well known hero so people were constantly staring. The other issue was working. He needed money if he ever wanted to move out of this god forsaken place. He’s sick of seeing wade walk around naked at 8 in the morning.

He needs his space and to get that he needs money but getting a job with none of the required paperwork was hard. He had to settle for doing odd jobs that paid cash under the table. Those were fine but he needed something more stable.

When Wade suggested he turn to adult films he rolled his eyes at another attempt at shitty humor from his roommate but the more he thought about it the less it seemed like a joke. The money was good and hopefully they didn't ask too many questions. So fuck it. How he found the right place was a long story but he ended up getting hired pretty quickly.

As the director put it. He's sexy and big in more ways than one. To Logan's surprise they didn't seem to care much that he was from another universe but they did have to make sure he wasn't a total creep which he understood.

The first video he was assigned to was pretty basic. Just fucking a girls brains out or something. Whatever the hell people were in to these days, he didn't really care. As long as he got paid. He had to get used to the prying eyes of the cameras.

Still he said his lines, albeit it took him a couple takes to say them naturally. His gruff voice and rippling muscles skyrocketed him to the top. Despite being a rookie he attracted a lot of attention and even garnered a reputation within the studio. No one could deny the raw animal magnetism this man seemed to have.

"Logan! Good news, your next video is going to be a with one of the most popular stars in our studio." The directors over the top enthusiasm makes Logan's eyes roll but he grunts out a response.

"Her name is Sunshine. Look her up. Anyways be here tomorrow by nine." Sunshine? Logan chuckles to himself as he leaves the studio.

Fake names are not uncommon but he's yet to find one that sounds so...perky. Still his curiosity gets the better of him as he steals Wades laptop in the dead of night. Searching in the name and scanning the results. Logan works with many attractive people in this job but the moment he lays eyes on you something shifts.

You aren't just attractive, you're drop dead gorgeous. He clicks on a video and his cock tightens in his pants. The faces you make don't look over the top or rehearsed. They almost look real. But Logan can tell you're faking it.

Your moans are sweet but he can tell whoever this boy is that's got his cock in you isn't doing his job very well. Still ever the professional you are you make it work. He falls down a rabbit hole of video after video. Shutting the laptop as the clock reads two in the morning. His cock is hard and painful as he puts Wades laptop back on the counter.

Fuck he needs a shower.

The ice cold water hits his back but it's not helping. He wraps his hand around his cock. Keeping his noises to a minimum as he jerks himself off to the thought of you. He bites his lip as he thinks of every way he can make you scream tomorrow. Show you what it's like to be fucked by a real man.

The sinful thoughts that fill his head drive him over the edge. He slams his hand against the shower wall as he comes. The water running down his back as he catches his breath. You've already got him interested, he just hopes he can put on a real show tomorrow.

-

When Logan gets to the studio the director tells him the "plot" of this video. Plot being a very loose term here. He's supposed to be the failing college senior while you play the hot young professor. They hand him a white button up a size too small and some fake glasses. He laughs as they place the glasses onto his face.

"No one's going to fucking buy this." The buttons threaten to bust open as they start to fix his hair.

"I don't know, you look pretty convincing to me." He looks up to see you smiling at him.

Already dressed in your shoot clothes with your makeup and hair all done. He shamelessly looks you up and down, licking his lips as his eyes settle on your cleavage.

"I'm a little old to be playing a college student don't you think?" You shrug and walk closer to him. You take your hands and run them through his hair, trying to flatten the parts that stick up but they don't want to listen.

"Don't think any one is watching these for the realism Logan." You wink as you then move to fix his glasses.

He clenches his jaw as he tries to contain the raging boner. He shouldn't be hard yet but here he is. You're driving him crazy.

"Promise to go easy on you, don't want to scare my new favorite coworker." You tease. Your nails scratch along his jaw, just for a moment but it's enough to drive him wild.

"I'm your favorite already Sunshine?" Logan says with a grin.

"For now, don't prove me wrong when the cameras are on us." You walk away and Logan enjoys every second of it. Oh this is going to be fun.

-

"Come on teach, your class is the only one I'm failing. I need to get a C to graduate." Logan's massive frame towers over your desk. His lines come out much more flirty than its supposed to but you roll with it.

"You need a lot of extra credit to make up the missing assignments Mr. Howlett." You stand up and walk over to where he was standing.

Pushing on his chest to get him to sit. You smirk when you see the buttons on his shirt fighting for their life. You sit on top of the desk and pretend to think.

"I'll do anything you want. Anything" Logan growls, his hand resting on your thigh now. Slowing inching up your leg, stopping right at the hem of your pencil skirt. You place your heel onto his shoulder. Spreading your legs so that Logan and the camera can see your lack of panties.

"Well, lets see how bad you want it." You taunt.

Your voice is smooth as butter and it drives him nuts. Logan gets on his knees. Ripping your skirt apart with ease making you gasp. That wasn't in the script but fuck it made you wet. His muscles are bulging in that damn shirt and you want to see what's underneath in person. Sadly that was going to have to wait as he trails kisses up your legs. Wet and sloppy as his grip on your hips is ironclad.

The camera moves to capture Logan's face. Seeing the primal hunger in his eyes as he grabs the hem of your panties with his teeth, dragging them down. He stands up with them still in his mouth. You grab onto his shirt and rip it open. Raking your nails down his very toned chest. You grab your underwear out of his mouth and toss it to the side.

"Good boy." You purr as you push on his shoulders.

He gets back onto his knees and wastes no time diving into your cunt. You fall back onto the desk as Logan takes you apart with his tongue. Moans and whimpers fall from your lips with ease. There is no need to fake your pleasure with him between your legs.

He's hungry, ravenous. Logan can't get enough. He holds your legs apart, keeping you from closing them as he zeros in on your clit. He's ruthless. Refusing to give you a moment to breathe as he loses himself in your pussy.

"You taste sweeter than I imagined." He growls off script. If he wasn't bringing you to orgasm you'd wonder what he meant by that. You wonder if he watched your videos just like you had.

"Logan!" You moan as your legs start to shake under the intense pleasure.

"That's it teach, let me taste you come on." His dirty mouth makes your head spin.

Your eyes squeezing tight as he pushes you over the edge. You barely even notice the camera as it positions itself over Logan's shoulder. Logan resist the urge to break the damn thing as it gets in his way. He feels a push on his shoulder and he growls. Reluctantly he gets out of the way and uses his thumb to rub your clit.

"I have an idea teach," Logan purrs. He pulls you off the desk. Wrapping an arm around you and grinding his clothed cock against your thigh.

"For every orgasm I can pull out of you, you raise my grade by a letter." He breathes into your neck, inhaling your scent. You sigh as his hands start to grope and squeeze your breasts.

"What do you say?" He grins as he feels you squirm under his touch. He unbuttons your blouse and tosses it to the side. Mouth watering as he buries his face in your breasts.

"You better get to work then Mr. Howlett. You're at a D right now." You turn around and bend over the desk. His hands run along your body before he unbuckles his pants.

"I'll show you a D." He grumbles. You have to stifle a laugh at his words.

The camera moves to show your face as Logan slides his cock inside of you. He throws his head back in pleasure as he gets to feel your tight cunt. Now this is what he was waiting for.

"Come get a shot of this." He whispers to himself.

He drags his cock out slowly. He watches in awe as your cute pussy just sucks him up. Your hands are digging into the desk, clawing at the wood as Logan's massive cock pushes its way in. You knew he was big but to actually feel it in person. Fuck.

"That feel good? You like my big cock hm?" Logan's cocky tone makes you moan as he picks up his pace. He's pummeling your poor pussy with no mercy. Your moans are as real as they can get as you cry and whine with each thrust.

"Logan oh god!" Your eyes cross as his cock hits a sensitive spot.

No one's ever hit that before. You're falling apart. Your chest heaves as you try and catch your breath but your moans quiet down because of it. Logan doesn't like that one bit. You groan as you feel his hand grab your hair. He pulls you up so that your back is arched. His cock somehow pushing its way deeper.

"Come on baby, don't hide from me." He whispers in your ear. He wraps an arm around your chest to hold you up. Your nails dig into his arm to ground yourself.

"Feel so fucking good, jerked myself off last night to your videos." He mumbles so only you can hear. You don't understand how a man can have so much stamina. He doesn't even seem tired.

"So fucking close I can feel it baby. I can feel the way your cunt clenches around my fat cock. I can hear her pulsing for me." His eyes grow dark as he feels you start to lose it.

His rough fingers sliding down to play with your cunt. It's a filthy sight to watch. You've forgotten about the cameras and the crew. The only thing you can feel is Logan. He's taken over your mind, your senses.

"That's it pretty girl." He bites your shoulder and the pain mixes with pleasure.

"Fuck!" You wail as you come hard around his cock. Logan groans in pleasure and comes before he can really stop himself. Filling you up nice and full as you babble incoherently. You can barely get your lines out as you float between the real world and cloud nine.

"You got your C Mr. Howlett." You've never been this wrecked after a scene before but Logan has completely ruined you. You grin at the feeling of his cum seeping out of you.

"You know, I've always wanted an A." He's grinning like the devil as he thrusts his hips once more making you cry out.

He's still fucking hard. He really is every porn studios wet dream. Hot, sexy, can go for round after round. The director calls cut but Logan doesn't let go of you. You've got this dazed look in your eyes and he gently lays you down on the desk.

"You alright?" He grunts as he slips out of you. His cock still standing straight as someone brings him a robe. He grabs a towel from one of the PA's and gently wipes up your legs. You whine as the rough material brushes against your poor pussy.

"Sorry." You just smile in response. You haven't had a fuck this good in a long time. A crew member brings you a robe and you put it on.

"You really know how to use that thing. For a second I thought you were the seasoned professional." You joke as you try and get off the desk. You stumble and Logan is quick to catch you.

"What can I say Sunshine, you made it easy." He flirts. The director calls his name and he rolls his eyes.

"Don't keep him waiting Logan. I'll see you soon." Another crew member comes to help you as Logan lets you go.

Thankfully this was all you had for the week and you could go home and soak in a bath. Your poor legs are going to need it. After signing a few things and getting next weeks shoot list you can finally go home.

"Sunshine, hope I didn't fuck you too good." Logan says with a wink. He's waiting outside of the studio, a cigar in his mouth.

"I regret whatever I said before, your ego is going to get too big." You joke. He shrugs and puts out his cigar on the ground.

"You got any plans?" He asks. Your dressed in normal clothes now, nothing remotely revealing but Logan still thinks you look gorgeous.

"I could take you to lunch, if you're interested." He offers.

You haven't thought about dating since you started working in this industry. You didn't need a partner and it could be hard trying to find one who understood your job. But Logan flashes that handsome smile and for some reason you can't resist.

Maybe your working backwards here. He fucks you and then you go to lunch but hey, nothing about him is conventional anyways.

"Yeah, lunch sounds good."

Its just lunch, you tell yourself. It's only a meal with your hot coworker. If things were to go further though you wouldn't complain. Certainly not when he's as handsome as he is. You definitely wouldn't mind taking him back to your place and you're certainly okay when he promises he can go for more rounds away from the prying eyes of the camera. But for now it's just lunch. He pays and you give him your number.

Logan and you part ways and he prays he sees you again. Not just at work but outside of it too. You've got him hooked. The video gets uploaded and explodes in popularity. Praising how realistic it felt and how hot both of you were. He gets a call from the director, expecting another update on his next shoot.

"Great news man! Sunshine wants to do exclusive shoots with you. Oh this is going to make us so much money." He tunes out the rambling as his phone dings. A smirk appearing on his face when he sees a text with your name pop up.

Want to rehearse our next scene? my place 7pm <3

[forgetmenottss]

Tulips  Review

“ It was Sirius who had started it, not in an attempt to replace what you had with Remus, but to remind you that he was there for you.”

—Tulips by Elina ( @amiableness ) is quite literally one of my favorite pieces for Sirius Black. Before being a one shot this fic was a series which is how I knew it as. To me it was the Tulips series which means warmth home and is the first fic I reach for when it starts getting colder, rainy and wicked outside. It means so much to me, so much more than words can provide.

As a certified James girl I can’t begin to tell you how this fic melts me every single time. I read this fic and am instantly grazed with a smile. I can’t begin to express how loving and comforting this fic is to me. I think I read this fic for the first time in February? Maybe March? Point is I read it towards the beginning of the year. Tulips were growing. I know that.  I then reread it closer to August because like I said when the weather gets colder it means it’s time to read this fic again. Not to mention that I am quite literally in love with tulips, the flower because they’re my favorites. But this fic is forever and always one that I will recommend. 

“You hardly comprehended the story, too focused on Sirius’ voice and his gentle touch. It was the first time in weeks that you hadn’t thought of Remus.”

➳ Y/n L/n:

Y/n. Y/n oh my lord. I cannot express how this is a beautiful example of how to write yet another y/n that actually feels like a human? In the fic Y/n is well in love with Remus. I can’t blame her because well same. But Remus doesn’t love her and well Y/n is left with having to watch Remus be in love with someone else. When I tell you that I felt so seen in the way that was written? Don’t even get me started. In the fic you can see the battle that Y/n has with those feelings and let me just say it is so incredibly well written because it actually represents how it is to have those feelings for someone who doesn’t return them. 

— The way that Y/n was written was so comforting. I’m going to get slightly personal so, hold please. Y/n was written as someone who was facing a heartbreak. Whether Elina made it intentional or didn’t even write it to have it be heartbreak that’s what the feelings were for me. But I’ll save that story for later. As I was saying, Y/n was given so much life and given such a level of connection that it made it so easy to get sucked into the world that was the Tulipsverse.

➳ Sirius Black:

「 “Sirius' concerned face as it comes into view. "What can I do? What do you need?" he asks, his tone brimming with genuine concern and care” 」

Guys. Where the hell do you want me to start? How dare I make myself choose? So, Sirius Black to me traditionally never appealed to my taste for reading about him. I didn’t really understand why everyone was obsessed with him. I didn’t see what the big deal was. Then I read Elina’s Sirius. Then I understood. Sirius in Tulips is what I imagine the boy you’ve secretly been in love with but too scared to admit to yourself to be like. And in a really really watered down way that’s kinda what it was. Sirius black (Elina’s version) will forever be the sweetest Sirius I have had the pleasure of meeting. Elina wrote Sirius with such care it’s almost as if she had him sit down with her and write it bit by bit how he fell in love with you.  Much like most writers Elina wrote Sirius with such care it’s scary how real he seems. It’s as if he’s right there with you as you’re reading this wonderful piece of work. It’s amazing. 

““Kiss the person you are most attracted to in this room.” Your stomach sinks like a stone, regretting your lack of resistance to James. ”

꒰ Sirius + Y/n: ꒱

Now it’s time to dissect the relationship. Ok when I tell you that when I read that scene, I was trying not to wake the whole house up? I’m not kidding. I literally could not stop myself from screaming as the scene went on. If you’ve read it you know what I’m talking about. But the relationship that Y/n and Sirius have? It is so incredibly beautiful. Like I said I didn’t have any interest in Sirius romantically but when you read Elina’s writing? You aren’t given much of a choice. Sirius was written in such a manner I was crying at the end because he wasn’t real. But this is deeper than that. Have you guys seen My Girl? Hear me out. Y/n and Sirius remind me of them. Because spoilers if you haven’t seen the film. Thomas dies right? Because he went to get something for Vada?  Okay so Sirius is Thomas. Sirius in this fic quite literally did anything he could to help the reader. And when I tell you that it’s squeal worthy when you read it? Be ready to have to muffle those squeals at three am because Elina provides you with the perfect amount of fluff and angst that it actually drives you crazy. The relationship that these two have is so unique and so captivating that you find yourself wanting more and craving the way they both love each other. No matter how much they deny it. Another couple that they remind me of is the relationship Barbie has with the tutor guy from princess and the pauper? Like he was so in love with her and she didn’t realise it until much later? Yeah that mirrors how Y/n and Sirius are in this fic and I am living for it. It’s so alluring and makes you want to immerse yourself in the story. I love it. 

”“You’re the only one I thought of.” You admit softly, hoping you don’t sound nearly as wrecked as you feel”

— The quote above is one that had(s) me reeling. When I first read it I was quite frankly stuffing my face into my pillow screaming. I remember reading that scene and looking up at the ceiling asking “what are we” to the air. But now it’s time to dissect that scene. No I’m kidding now it's time for the love letter to this fic. Tulips as I’ve so eloquently have written is a fic that I hold so near and dear to my heart because it helped me get over a stupid british boy. Regardless if I had been heartbroken when I read this fic or not I know I would fall in love with it again. If you hand me this fic and I happened to have lost my memory I know I would be as in love with it then as I am now. Tulips is an amazing work of art that makes you feel like you’re actually experiencing these things. It’s as if you’re right there and actually living through the scenes because it’s so beautifully written. Elina, your writing brings me and I’m sure many others so much comfort. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing this with us. Thank you for not second guessing this amazing work of art and not sharing it to the world. If you haven’t already read Tulips do yourself a favor and go read it. Read it with tissues though. It made me cry sometimes but cough drops too because you will scream. Tulips will be one of the best fics that you’ve read I can guarantee even if you don’t think you like Sirius take it from someone who had mild interest in Sirius. You will love it when you read it. Thank you for reading the review!!

To Elina,

        I did try to be as unbiased as I promise you I for the most part I really did try. I don’t know once you read the review (if you do) you’ll be able to tell me if I was bias or not! But I’m not lying to you when I tell you how much this work means to me. When I first read this piece I had just gone through the worst ending of a really intense situationship. Ironically enough he had a girlfriend while we were talking. And he came into my life saying he wanted to talk and to tell me about said girlfriend. So when I accidentally stumbled onto this absolute gem of a fic while reading one night? I stayed up the whole night and read it all the way through. I was screaming into my pillows as I was reading. I thought I knew stress, but then I experienced stress and my actual feelings on paper and I was proven wrong. Elina, I don’t think I say this enough when I tell you how amazing your writing truly is. When I first found this fic I was in shock because I had never once considered I would be this obsessed with Sirius but when I read the first chapter? You had me bewitched. I will say you have a beautiful gift in writing and I am so incredibly honored that you chose to share with the world that gift. But this fic was honestly the beginning for my journey of your writing. I was scrolling through my blog and I had found you asking about dad!james x bsf!reader. I looked at the post for a little and I thought it was familiar and it was, I just didn’t know until I clicked it. I began reading all the works you had linked. I can’t remember if I  interacted but I think I read them all silently and I found myself craving more. Then I made the decision to follow you. I wasn’t that nervous to follow because you deserve people to show you that they love your work. However when I would send you those messages? I was so nervous, I would actually throw my phone when you would respond. But then you followed me back? When I tell you I was actually unresponsive? It was crazy. Because I still can’t wrap my head around how the person who’s fics I go to when I feel like I’m alone, had followed me back. I wasn’t lying when I said your fics still bring me comfort because they like I’ve said before are part of my routine. I am forever grateful to have found your piece because I continuously think about it and find comfort in it. So I’ll leave you with this Elina, your writing is so incredibly beautiful. Even if people are stupid and take your work for granted I want you to know how incredible it is. 

Tulips

Pairings: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader, Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Summary ✿ After finding out Remus Lupin has found himself a girlfriend, a devastated Y/n L/n asks Sirius Black to help her get over him. Except Sirius has feelings for her.

Warnings ✿ Language, unrequited love, angst, kissing, jealousy, reader wearing lipgloss and a dress, mentions of anxiety. If there's more let me know!

Word Count ✿ 20.3k

A/N 💌 This was my first ever series, but I've decided to repost it as a oneshot!

BONUS SMUT

Your affection for Remus had begun almost from the moment you met him. For nearly five years, you found yourself quietly drawn to him. How could you not be? His tranquil and caring nature had eased your anxieties countless times. His unwavering loyalty to both his friends and his studies never ceased to amaze you. The bravery he exhibited each month, whether he acknowledged it or not, left you in awe. With Remus, you always felt secure, as if nothing could disturb your sense of safety.

Monday nights marked your routine study sessions with Remus, a tradition since the start of sixth year. Arriving promptly at his dorm, you were met with unsettling moans seeping from beneath the door, causing your stomach to plummet. Frozen in shock, you raced through possible explanations, with Sirius seeming the most plausible culprit. Surely, Remus wouldn't forget your study night, and the thought of another girl seemed inconceivable. As you turned around, anxiety coursing through your veins, you collided with Sirius, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Please tell me it’s James in there." You pleaded, the desperation clear in both your tone and your expression, causing Sirius' heart to sink. Knowing James was at practice, he couldn't bring himself to shatter your hope. Instead, he grasped your hand firmly and practically pulled you towards your dormitory. Despite the chaos of emotions, Sirius made sure to shield you with his own body, warding off any prying eyes curious about the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Are any of your roommates here?" Sirius inquired as he halted in front of your dormitory door.

"No, Lily is staying the night at your dorm with James, and I think Marlene is staying with Dorcas." You responded, your voice tinged with sadness as you used your sleeve to dab at the tears staining your cheeks. Leading the way inside, you guided Sirius into your room, where he realized it was his first time seeing your personal space. Until now, you and Remus had been inseparable, leaving no room for Sirius to spend time alone with you.

He found himself a tad nervous, the proximity to you unnerving him in the best possible way. As he stood in your dormitory, the faint scent of your favorite perfume lingering in the air, Sirius couldn't help but feel a flutter in his stomach. It was an unfamiliar sensation, being so close to you without the familiar presence of Remus nearby.

"It wasn’t James and Lily in there, was it?" Sirius turned to you, his expression filled with concern as he observed you sitting on your bed, visibly holding back tears, awaiting his response.

"No, angel." He replied softly, his voice tinged with empathy as he moved to sit beside you. A sigh escaped his lips as he settled onto your bed. Sirius knew James's schedule all too well, and he was certain that James was still down at the Quidditch pitch, far from the dorm.

Everything about your side of the room was perfectly you. Your desk was adorned with stacks of books, polaroids capturing cherished memories with friends pinned to the wall, and one of Remus’ sweaters casually draped over the back of your chair. Yet, amidst the familiar sights, a small glass vase seized his attention. Within it, a single red tulip, a gift he had given you a few weeks earlier.

As he strolled around Black Lake with the boys, he stumbled upon the patch of flowers, and instantly, he knew it was meant for you. Knowing how much you adored flowers, often doodling them in the margins of your Potions notes while seated beside him, he couldn't resist picking it. James, catching sight of the flower, declared that Lily deserved an entire bouquet. 

You weren’t taken aback when James Potter interrupted your study session with Lily by presenting her with a stunning bouquet of flowers. However, what did catch you off guard was Sirius' gesture: placing a single red flower delicately on top of your open book and sending you a playful wink.

"​M’lady." He had murmured, and at that moment, your cheeks ignited with a warmth you had never felt before.

Lily filled the remainder of your study session with talk of how a red tulip symbolized a declaration of love while you simply laughed in response.

Sirius glanced over at you, noticing the tear-filled gaze fixed upon your hands as you sat on the bed. He hesitated, the weight of his words hanging in the air. "I didn’t know you had feelings for him." he finally admitted, his tone tinged with surprise.

You offered a soft laugh tinged with a hint of sadness. "I guess that means I’m good at hiding it then. It’s been a good couple of years now. Probably started the very first day I met him, honestly," you confessed, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips.

"I’m sorry, angel." Sirius expressed, his voice laced with genuine remorse.

A gentle shake of your head followed. "You don’t have to be sorry," you reassured him, your voice carrying a tone of acceptance intertwined with a hint of resignation.

"I could’ve given you a heads up," Sirius grimaced as your head whipped up to look over at him, the gravity of his words sinking in. "He’s been seeing this girl for weeks. He’s going to ask her out soon."

"Sirius-" you began, your voice carrying a mixture of surprise and concern.

"I’m telling you this not to be mean, but so you’re not blindsided when it happens." Sirius continued his tone earnest yet tinged with regret.

This time, you remained silent, your gaze drifting over to the polaroid displayed prominently on your bedside table. In the photo, you and Remus sat beneath a tree, his arm wrapped around you in a protective embrace while your head rested gently on his shoulder. The memory of that day flooded back — discussing a book, laughter filling the air, and Lily insisting on capturing the moment in a photograph. 

At the end of the day, with a knowing smile, she handed you the polaroid. The setting sun cast a beautiful glow upon the photo when you held it in your hand.

"C’mere," Sirius demanded softly, his voice a gentle command meant to pull you away from the intensity of the picture. He positioned himself against the headboard, arms open wide for you to find solace in. Without hesitation, you crawled into his embrace, nestling against his side. His arms enveloped you, offering comfort and warmth as he planted a tender kiss atop your head.

"What can I do?" Sirius inquired quietly, his gaze fixed on the tears tracing down your cheeks and staining his shirt.

"Help me get over him. Please." You pleaded, the vulnerability in your voice bared as you sought comfort and support from him.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

"Where the hell have you been? You nearly missed breakfast!" James exclaimed, his eyes scanning over your disheveled appearance—your hair in disarray and your clothes creased. It was a rare sight to see you, typically impeccably put together and five minutes ahead of everyone else, arriving late and looking rumpled. He chose not to mention the dark circles under your eyes or the absence of your usual cheery smile. He knew better than to bring that up.

Upon sensing Remus's scrutinizing gaze, you cleared your throat nervously and averted your eyes, unwilling to let him figure out that he was the cause of your disheveled appearance.

“Rough night.” That was simply put. In fact, last night had been incredibly rough, leaving you worse for wear this dreary morning. Cuddling with Sirius comforted you for so long before you were back to crying your heart out. He was kind enough to hold you the entire time, and eventually, you had both fallen asleep. There had been no discussion on what you meant last night about having him help you get over Remus. You didn’t know what you had meant by it either.

You grimaced as the memory flooded back, choosing to sit beside Sirius instead. He wouldn’t admit it in front of the boys, but he was well prepared to knock one of them over if they tried to sit next to him. After the trying night you'd endured, he made it a point to ensure you felt at ease and understood that he was there for you should you need anything. Normally, you occupied the seat next to Remus, with Sirius seated beside James and Peter. However, given the circumstances, he understood that you wouldn't feel comfortable sitting next to Remus that morning.

James' gaze darted between the two of you, noting the departure from your usual seating arrangement. He stole a quick glance at Remus, who seemed intent on studying you. "Hmm. Why is it that Sirius has been quiet all breakfast, and now you are too?" he quipped, breaking the silence.

"Sod off, mate." Sirius grumbled, pushing a steaming cup of tea toward you. Despite the gruff remark, he offered you a sweet smile before returning his attention to his meal. Even though the gesture was minimal, it made you want to burst into tears. The fact that he remembered your favorite tea and how you liked it meant more to you than words could express. Remus, however, frowned at the cup of tea sitting in front of you, his expression troubled.

“What? I can’t make conversation this beautiful morning?” James’s tone was still incredibly upbeat, unlike those around him. Peter hummed in agreement, his mouth full of cereal and unable to respond properly.

"It's storming." Remus mumbled, his gaze still fixed on you, sensing that something was amiss as you avoided meeting his eyes. Usually, you sat next to him, cheerily chatting about another book you had read together.

"Are you implying a storm isn't beautiful? Because I happen to think-"

"James, let's just have a quiet breakfast this Tuesday morning." Sirius interjected, surprising James with the interruption. James opened his mouth to protest, but the seriousness in Sirius's expression halted him mid-sentence. Sirius's deliberate interruption was aimed at signaling to Remus that he had missed your study night. It served its purpose, prompting Remus to acknowledge the missed study date.

"Oh, fuck. Y/n, I’m so sorry! Last night, our study night, I totally forgot," Remus blurted out, his words rushed and filled with regret as he watched your reaction. You simply shrugged and sipped your tea, avoiding direct eye contact with him. You kept your gaze fixed on your plate, knowing that meeting Remus's eyes would likely trigger another wave of tears.

"No big deal." You replied casually.

"Uh," Remus furrowed his eyebrows, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion as he searched your face for any sign of distress. However, your demeanor remained inscrutable, your face a mask of blankness. "Are you sure? I know you really wanted to study this week with your exam coming up-"

You finally met Remus's gaze, sitting up a bit straighter, "I was able to study, Remus, it's fine."

"You were? But uh-" Remus scrambled for words, uncertain how to navigate this tense exchange. He couldn't recall a time when you sounded so curt with him before.

"Sirius helped me." You interjected, your voice steady but tinged with an underlying tension.

James sputtered out a laugh, his gaze darting between you and Sirius. "He helped you study? Willingly?"

In reality, studying hadn't been the main agenda of the night. Before drifting off to sleep, you had hastily handed Sirius your flashcards from the nightstand, however, your pounding headache from crying rendered you unable to focus properly during his quizzing. So, technically, he did help you study, albeit minimally.

Peter raised his eyebrows, his tone laced with curiosity, "Is that where you were all last night? Studying?"

You squirmed uneasily at Peter's implication. Sirius shot James and Peter a sharp glance, silently urging them to stop talking.

Remus's lips parted in surprise as he shifted his gaze from Sirius to you. "He stayed the night with you?" His tone carried a hint of displeasure that didn't escape Sirius's notice. Despite himself, a slight sense of satisfaction flickered within Sirius at Remus's reaction.

Before anyone could respond, a pretty Ravenclaw leaned over Remus, enveloping him in a hug as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Rem, I thought you were going to try and sit with me this morning." She murmured.

Your body tensed at the sight of her; she was the girl from last night. A surge of jealousy, unlike anything you had ever experienced before, washed over you, catching you off guard. Your appetite vanished.

"Uh, sorry. I had to work on some things this morning and got a bit distracted." Remus's response came with a hint of discomfort, his apology tinged with unease. As you observed the exchange, you couldn't quite determine if his discomfort arose from her presence or the attention their interaction garnered. Quietly, you wished it leaned more towards the former.

Her lips formed a pretty pout, “Hm.”

James unabashedly observed the pair while taking a bite of his toast. "You know, Remus, if you ever need relationship advice, I’m here," he remarked, his tone teasing. Remus scowled in response, clearly unamused, while the girl giggled and tightened her grip around him, seemingly unfazed by James's comment.

You stole a glance at Sirius, momentarily tuning out the conversation to observe his reaction to the scene unfolding before you. Sensing the unease gnawing at your stomach, you instinctively reached for Sirius’ hand, which rested on his thigh. As soon as your fingers brushed against his, he responded by intertwining them with yours, his eyes meeting yours in silent understanding.

"Do you want to go?" he whispered softly, squeezing your hand in reassurance. Unable to trust your voice, you simply nodded in response. He released your hand momentarily, a fleeting disappointment washing over you until you watched as he effortlessly grabbed your bag and slung it over his shoulder. With a tender gesture, he reached for a muffin, noticing that you had hardly eaten.

Then, extending his hand towards you, he silently offered his support. Amidst James's lively conversation with the Ravenclaw girl and Remus's contemplative gaze, Peter looked on with a puzzled expression as Sirius extended his hand to you, a silent invitation to leave the discomfort behind.

"You don’t have to hold my bag." You mumbled, rising to your feet to face him, intertwining your fingers once more. Despite the awareness of the eyes fixed upon the two of you, your focus remained solely on Sirius.

"I wanted to, angel." Sirius replied softly, meeting your gaze with warmth. The genuine smile that graced your face was the first of the morning, and Sirius felt as if he had won the lottery.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

"Y/n." His voice sliced through the air, causing you to freeze mid-sentence. But deep down, what had you truly expected? That he wouldn’t approach you while you were quietly engrossed in your book in the common room? Your plan of avoiding him for as long as possible wasn’t unfolding as smoothly as you had hoped.

"Hi, Rem.” You responded softly, offering a genuine smile. Despite the ache that lingered from witnessing him with the Ravenclaw girl at breakfast, you couldn’t deny the bond you shared. After all, he was still your best friend. You couldn’t fault him for getting a girlfriend, no matter how much it hurt.

Remus settled into the armchair opposite you, his expression earnest. "I didn’t really get to talk to you much this morning," he began, his tone gentle.

You offered a nonchalant shrug, hoping to conceal the nervousness. "Oh. I mean, I wasn’t in much of a mood for chatting," you replied, attempting to maintain a façade of composure, though inwardly, you were anything but.

"Is everything alright? Is this about missing last night? I promise that I didn’t mean to, truly," Remus continued, his sincerity evident. Leaning forward, his eyes bore into yours, practically pleading for your forgiveness. Despite your resolve, his sincerity tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself wavering.

"I’m not upset about you missing our study night; I understand that things come up." You reassured him as though you were anything truly fine. There was a squeeze in your heart at remembering Remus with another girl, a stark reminder that she wasn't you.

Remus visibly relaxed at your words. "We could reschedule it?" he suggested, his tone hopeful.

A heavy silence settled between you. How were you supposed to tell him that you didn't want to reschedule? That you weren't ready to spend time alone with him right now? Being around him now, knowing you had no chance, felt like a punch to the gut.

"There you guys are!" James’ voice carried throughout the common room, effectively gaining more attention than he had probably intended. Sirius stood right beside him, his gaze already fixed on you. Peter was notably absent, likely engrossed in his studies elsewhere. Nevertheless, you welcomed the distraction.

James huffed as if he had been greatly inconvenienced. "We have been looking everywhere for you guys."

You couldn't help but laugh, "You didn’t think to check the common room first?"

"Y/n, please. Don’t be ridiculous." James quipped as he dropped into the armchair beside Remus. Remus's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he sighed and turned his attention to James. Soon enough, they were engrossed in their own conversation.

Sirius settled into the spot next to you, casually draping an arm over the back of the couch just behind your shoulders. As you leaned into his side and offered him a smile, he felt his cheeks flush with warmth. Your affectionate gestures toward him had always been present, but after last night, they seemed to intensify.

Your proximity never failed to make his heart skip a beat, and his stomach flutter. Despite his confidence in hiding his involuntary reactions to you, lately, it seemed more challenging for him to do so.

He greets you with the softest smile, his eyes reflecting warmth. "Hi, angel," he murmurs gently. Sirius had always affectionately called you angel, a term that secretly held a special place in your heart, one of your favorite things about him.

"Hi." You respond, a matching smile adorning your features, mirroring the comfort in his presence.

"I never got to thank you for last night." You admit, your tone filled with gratitude.

Shaking his head modestly, he insists, "You don’t have to thank me."

"It made me feel better having you there with me, so of course I want to thank you." You express earnestly, your appreciation evident in your words.

Sirius leans in, his breath tickling your ear as he whispers, "We still gotta talk about what you meant last night. By asking me to help you get over him."

Feeling a flush of embarrassment, you sputter out a response, "I’m not entirely sure what I meant. I figured you would know how to go about that."

"Why would I know how to go about that?" Sirius questions, genuine curiosity coloring his tone.

Shrugging, you admit, "I don’t know. I just thought you might have. You have way more experience with relationships than I do."

Sirius snorts, a wry grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I wouldn’t call them relationships." he remarks, his mind briefly wandering through the array of flings he'd had in the past few years. None of them had left a lasting impression on him, none of them had made him feel the way you did.

You shrug, a hint of vulnerability in your expression. "It’s more experience than I have.”

Your voices remain hushed, a deliberate attempt to avoid drawing the attention of James and Remus. Yet, the intimate proximity between you and Sirius could easily spark curiosity on its own. You're practically nestled against his side, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispers. To any onlooker, it would seem as though you were lovers, exchanging sweet nothings in a quiet moment of intimacy.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, acutely aware of the gravity of his next question. He understands that the answer could severely hurt his feelings, "Are you in love with him?"

Your reaction is swift; you turn to him so abruptly that your noses nearly brush against each other. Sirius silently begs you to linger closer, but you withdraw just enough to maintain a respectable distance. He watches intently as you steal a glance at Remus, your bottom lip caught between your teeth in contemplation.

"No. But, honestly, it probably wouldn’t take much for me to fall in love with him." You confess, your words hanging in the air like a weight. Sirius needs a moment to recover, the impact of your admission hitting him harder than he had anticipated, despite mentally preparing himself for it.

You turn back to him, anguish evident in your voice, "How are you supposed to get over someone you’re nearly in love with?" Sirius hears the devastation in your tone, wishing he could convey that he genuinely comprehends that sentiment. However, delving into such explanations would only invite more questions, and that's the last thing he needs right now.

"I don’t know, angel." He responds simply, observing as you anxiously pick at your nails.

A quiet lull envelops you both before you speak up again, "I don’t think spending all my time with him helps. Maybe I should distance myself a little bit."

"You’re welcome to spend all that time with me instead." Sirius offers, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side. As you relax into his embrace, you rest your head on his shoulder. For a few precious minutes, you both sit in silence, lost in your own thoughts.

Remus glances over at you, nearly doing a double-take at the display of affection. You have closed your eyes, seemingly oblivious to Remus' stare, but Sirius him. For a brief, tense moment, Remus and Sirius lock eyes, but then James regains Remus' attention.

“Sirius?” You ask, the weariness evident in your voice.

“Yeah?”

“Remember when you told James to get over Lily that he needed to get under someone else?” Sirius immediately senses the direction of the conversation, and a pang of regret twinges in his chest.

“Yes.”

“Do you think that really works?” You inquire, your tone tinged with uncertainty and a hint of desperation.

“For some people, maybe.” Sirius replies cautiously. He wants to admit that such tactics haven’t proven successful for him and probably never will.

You pull away to look at him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of hope and uncertainty, “Would you help me find someone?”

"There’s no way in hell I’m doing that." Sirius responds firmly, his tone leaving little room for negotiation. But before you can protest, he interjects, "I’ll be your distraction."

"How exactly?" Your voice tinged with uncertainty, unsure of what he means.

"However, you need me. I know I’m not the best study partner, but I’ll run through your flashcards with you whenever you need to study," Sirius offers, his voice softening as he glances from you to Remus. “I know you guys would talk about books a lot, so I’ll read whatever book you’re reading just to discuss it with you. Whatever you want me to do, Y/n, I’ll do it.”

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“You and Y/n were cozy on that couch,” James comments casually, his gaze fixed on the ceiling from where he's sprawled out on his bed. Sirius glances over his shoulder at him, pausing his furious writing at the desk where he's been hunched over for the last twenty minutes.

“Hm. I guess so.” Sirius replies nonchalantly, but his voice’s a subtle tension.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” James' tone carries a note of genuine concern, and Sirius immediately feels the weight of his friend's apprehension settling over the room like a heavy blanket.

“Working on my homework? Yeah, it’s probably my best one yet.” Sirius responds, his tone strained as he tries to maintain composure.

“About comforting the girl you love because she’s in love with your best mate.” James continues, his words cutting through the air like a knife. Sirius freezes, the quill leaving a streak of ink across the paper as his thoughts whirl.

He refuses to turn around and face James, not wanting to see the pitying look he knows will be on his friend's face. Instead, he runs his hand through his hair in frustration, his emotions simmering beneath the surface.

“Surprised you figured it out.” Sirius grumbles, his voice laced with a mixture of defensiveness and resignation. He doesn’t want to confront the truth about your feelings for Remus. The mere thought of you falling in love with someone other than him ignites a pang of jealousy in his chest.

He wants to correct James, to insist that you aren’t in love with Remus, but it feels futile. The reality is too close for comfort, and he can't shake the feeling of impending loss.

“About your feelings? Or hers?” James questions, his head leaning back against his headboard as he studies Sirius, his expression searching.

Sirius climbs onto his bed, letting out a sigh of frustration once his head hits his pillow, the weight of the conversation heavy on his mind. “Both,” he admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

“I didn’t notice until today with Y/n. She looked devastated when Adeline was all over Remus. On the other hand, I’ve known you’ve had feelings for her for years. The things you do for her, you wouldn’t do for anyone else.” James observes, his tone tinged with a mix of understanding and concern.

Sirius doesn’t know what to say in response, but deep down, he knows James is right. He’s always treated you differently, gone the extra mile for you in ways he wouldn't for anyone else. He had just hoped it wasn’t so obvious.

James sighs loudly, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in the air, “You gotta be careful, mate. You’re gonna get your feelings hurt.”

“I’d rather my feelings be hurt than hers.” Sirius responds earnestly, his voice carrying a hint of determination.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

It was official. Remus Lupin and Adeline Reyes were officially dating. The news didn’t come as a surprise; Remus had been bringing her around more often lately. She seamlessly integrated herself into your group dynamic, joining you all at breakfast some mornings and effortlessly engaging in conversation as if she had been there for years. Adeline adeptly kept pace with Sirius’ quick quips and could outwit James with a witty comeback. She was quick to include Peter whenever James unintentionally overshadowed him in conversation and was always eager to discuss the next book you planned to read.

It was horrifically frustrating.

You wanted to dislike her, but deep down, you knew it was just jealousy clouding your judgment. Adeline was undeniably genuine and sweet; you could easily envision yourself becoming good friends with her. However, every time she affectionately pressed her lips to Remus’ cheeks or leaned into his side, it felt like a sharp pang reminding you of your own feelings and the heartwrenching situation you found yourself in.

It left a bitter taste in your mouth. Just a few weeks ago, that was your spot, and you were blissfully unaware of his feelings for another girl. You felt foolish, caught off guard. Was it all in your head? Had you merely romanticized every interaction with him? Built up a scenario that never truly existed?

"Y/n, this is the third time you've spaced out. Are you alright?" Lily's concerned voice broke through your thoughts as she settled beside you on the bed. Despite James's insistence on a get-together downstairs, you found your mind drifting elsewhere. It had been a couple of weeks since Remus and Adeline declared their relationship, and ever since then, your thoughts had been in turmoil.

You shrugged, "I'm okay. I just don't think I'm up for a party tonight."

"You haven't seemed in the party mood for weeks." Marlene remarked, her attention fixed on her reflection as she applied lip gloss. Sensing something amiss, she pivoted abruptly to face you.

"Is this about Remus and Adeline?" Lily's direct question made your stomach plummet.

"I, uh—no." You stammered, feeling as startled as you looked by her inquiry.

"Godric, you're a horrible liar." Marlene remarked, tossing the tube of sparkly gloss onto her bed before striding over to her trunk and flinging it open. "It's okay to miss your best friend. You two are practically glued to each other's sides. I'm sure it's odd not spending as much time with him anymore."

Lily observed the subtle shift in your demeanor as Marlene spoke, although Marlene herself was entirely engrossed in rummaging through her clothes until she emitted a satisfied hum.

Shoving a floral sundress into your hands, Marlene declared, "Here, you're not wearing your uniform tonight. Wearing something cute will make you feel better." Your fingers traced over the silky material, white with colorful flowers scattered across it. Marlene observed as you held up the dress, eyeing the spaghetti straps and milkmaid top with uncertainty.

"It's winter, Marlene." You pointed out your tone laced with practicality.

"We're inside. But if you do get cold, I’m sure Sirius would gladly warm you up." Marlene chirped, grinning at your surprised expression.

"Sirius is not going to warm me up." You grumbled as you stood up and headed to the bathroom with the dress in hand. With the door shut, you changed out of your uniform. You had to admit, the dress was pretty. Maybe Marlene was right; wearing something cute would boost your confidence and mood.

"Are you sure? You two have been awfully cozy lately!" Lily's laughter laced her tone as she called through the door. You slipped the dress on, then twisted in front of the mirror to assess how it looked. Concluding that you liked it, you also appreciated how it made you feel slightly brighter. It reminded you of a summer spent in Italy with your parents, where you practically lived in sundresses.

You turn open the door and twirl for the girls, who squeal in appreciation. Marlene snatches the lip gloss she had tossed aside, grabbing at your cheeks to dot some on your lips.

"We haven’t been cozy. We’re just acting like friends do." You mumble, your words slightly muffled from your cheeks being squished.

“Bullshit! You never snuggled Peter, never did with James before he got himself a girlfriend,” Marlene turned to wink at Lily. “Honestly, you never did with Remus either. But you and Sirius have been all over each other.”

“We have not!” You deny it, looking to Lily for support. But she only leans back on her hands and sends you a smug smile.

"The other day, I walked into the common room with James, and you were practically asleep on Sirius’ lap while he read to you.” Lily grins.

“He was reading to you? That’s the cutest thing I have ever heard. That’s your love language right there!” Marlene's gasp was filled with awe, and you didn't know how to respond. Because you had indeed fallen asleep on his lap while Sirius twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers absentmindedly as he read Pride and Prejudice to you. You hardly comprehended the story, too focused on Sirius’ voice and his gentle touch. It was the first time in weeks that you hadn’t thought of Remus.

“It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen Sirius do.” Lily agreed, nodding in approval. “I’m telling you, he has feelings for you. I’ve thought so ever since 5th year. He pretty much confirmed it when he gave you that red tulip.”

“A declaration of love!” Marlene practically sang, her excitement contagious.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

As you reached the bottom step with Marlene and Lily, you let out a sigh. The common room was bustling, with students scattered everywhere, making the air feel stuffy and warm. You briefly pondered what James’ definition of a get-together was, because this felt more like a full-blown party.

“James said he invited hardly anyone.” You muttered to Lily, who nodded in agreement.

“He’s a social butterfly, you never know with him.” Lily replied with a shrug, craning her neck to spot James amidst the crowd. She eventually spotted him near the fireplace, engaged in lively conversation with Sirius and a few other members of the Quidditch team. You allowed Lily to lead you through the throng of people, observing the lively atmosphere around you. Marlene had already disappeared into the crowd, no doubt on a mission to find Dorcas.

You can hear him before you see him: Sirius’ hearty laugh resonates over the music and the crowd’s chatter. It's a remarkable sound, drawing attention effortlessly. And there he is, standing tall next to James by the fireplace, a drink held casually in one hand while the other gestures animatedly as he converses with the guy beside him. Clad in a simple black T-shirt, Sirius exudes a captivating charm, and you can't help but admire how good he looks in the flickering firelight.

Though you'd never admit it aloud, Lily had been onto something. You and Sirius had been spending an increasing amount of time together. True to his word, Sirius had been a genuine distraction from your heartache. The activities you once shared with Remus were gradually being replaced by moments with Sirius.

It was no longer Remus, who you sat next to in the morning. No longer Remus, who you reviewed your flashcards with. No longer Remus, who would sit with you next to Black Lake and chat about your latest book. And no longer Remus, who would hold your hand to calm your anxiety every time you had to speak up in front of the class.

But it wasn’t like you had asked Sirius to do any of these things. It was Sirius who had started it, not in an attempt to replace what you had with Remus, but to remind you that he was there for you. That he would do anything to make you feel loved. Sirius wasn’t doing any of this because he felt obligated. He did it because he wanted you to know that you weren’t alone and that he didn’t plan on leaving any time soon.

But there were things that Sirius did that Remus had never done. Every morning, a cup of your favorite tea awaited at your spot next to him. He carried one of your scrunchies in his bag because you could never keep track of them, even offering to tie your hair up for you. Each time he walked around Black Lake, he brought you back a red tulip, which you tucked into the vase on your desk next to the others. You were building up quite the collection. 

Sirius bursts into laughter, but his mirth is interrupted by James' boisterous greeting. The sudden volume jerks your attention away from Sirius, and you find yourself facing Lily, who offers a halfhearted protest as James envelops her in a bear hug. You brace yourself as James turns his attention to you, lifting you up despite your protests about your dress. After he sets you down, a moment of imbalance is quickly rectified as you feel an arm slip around your waist, steadying you against someone's chest.

"He's had a few too many." Sirius whispers into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You lean into his embrace, relishing the warmth and familiarity of his touch before turning around to face him.

With your palms pressed against his chest, you offer him a warm smile. "Hi."

He still holds onto his drink, but his pointer finger slips under the strap of your dress, giving it a gentle tug. "This is cute," he murmurs, his voice now hushed compared to the near shouting from a minute ago. His eyes meet yours, and you feel a wave of warmth spread through you. No one has ever looked at you the way he's looking at you right now.

"Thank you." You reply softly, surprised at the tenderness in your own voice. But you know he hears you as he smiles before turning back to the conversation he was having with a few other guys.

Pushing down your disappointment, you adjust the straps of your dress and take a breath, scanning the room for someone else to chat with. However, Sirius surprises you by wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you gently into his side. He continues to talk, his voice much quieter this time, but the three subtle squeezes let you know he's still there if you need him.

Lily catches your eye and mouths, "I told you so."

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, it was just a coincidence that you found yourself in the vicinity at that moment. 

"You know, everyone thought you and Y/n were gonna get together." Peter remarks, nudging Remus in the side. Remus turns to him, likely taken aback. From your vantage point, you can't see their faces, but you recognize their silhouettes. They're seated together on one of the couches, engaged in quiet conversation amid the lively atmosphere of the party. You had briefly slipped away from Sirius to grab a drink, but now you're starting to regret your decision.

"Y/n and I?" Remus's response is laced with surprise, confirming your suspicions. You stand frozen, a few feet away from the couch, feeling your stomach plummet. 

"Yeah, I think most people thought you already were. I mean, you guys spent so much time together." Peter continues, oblivious to the impact of his words. You try to avoid lingering on the past tense word.

"No, never," Remus hastily interjects. “I don’t think I could think of Y/n like that.” His words landed like a heavy blow to your chest. You feel a pang of disappointment and hurt ripple through you, sitting heavy in your stomach. With tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you pivot on your heel and stride purposefully toward your dormitory.

As you navigate through the bustling crowd, your lips utter excuse me, and I need to get through in a mechanical cadence. Each step feels heavier than the last, burdened by the weight of Remus's words and the shattered illusions they bring.

Finally, the door to your dormitory swings shut behind you with a resounding thud, the noise a stark contrast to the chaos of the party below. Alone in the silence of your room, you confront the raw emotions swirling within you, grappling with the harsh reality of unrequited feelings.

Tears blur your vision so severely that you nearly trip over your shoes in your haste to remove them. With trembling hands, you toss the covers over your body, seeking refuge in the soft embrace of your bed. You bury your face into the welcoming embrace of your pillow, heedless of the inevitable mascara stains that will be left behind. A strangled sob escapes your lips, muffled by the sanctuary of your pillow, as you grapple with the overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over you.

The noise of the party downstairs serves as a comforting cloak, allowing you to release your emotions freely and without judgment.

The abruptness with which Remus shut down any possibility of harboring feelings for you cuts deep, like a dagger to the heart. The ache in your chest feels all-consuming, a relentless reminder that you will never be with him. Despite the rational part of your mind knowing that his affection for Adeline precludes any possibility of reciprocating your feelings, the emotional turmoil still wreaks havoc on your fragile heart.

In the solitude of your room, you allow yourself to cry. With each passing moment, the ache in your chest deepens.

"Y/n? Oh, Godric." Lily exclaims, rushing to your side with concern etched across her features. She gathers your hair away from your tear-streaked face, her eyes taking in the sight before her: cheeks flushed and blotchy, mascara-tinged tears tracing down your cheeks, your hair in disarray. She had sensed something amiss when she spotted you hurrying up the stairs, but the depth of your distress caught her off guard.

"Y/n, what can I do? Do you want a glass of water? Can I, uh..." Lily's voice trembles with worry as she looks around the room, searching for anything that might bring you comfort. She's witnessed your tears before, but never like this, leaving her feeling utterly helpless.

"I don't need water. Can you..." Your voice breaks, choked with emotion, making it difficult to articulate your thoughts.

Lily watches as you clutch your pillow tighter, waiting for your next words. "Can I what?" She prompts gently.

"I just need..." You falter, another sob escaping your lips. "Sirius. I need Sirius."

Without hesitation, Lily nods, determined to find Sirius and bring him to your side. As she exits your dorm, you sink deeper into your pillow, allowing the tears to flow freely. Your mind races with questions, grappling with how to face Remus again and feign normalcy.

You're not completely taken aback by his words; the past few weeks have allowed you to gradually accept that Remus may not share your feelings. Yet, processing this realization privately was less painful than hearing his firm denial of any possibility of reciprocation. Perhaps there's a tinge of sorrow in acknowledging this truth, as it signifies a shift in your relationship with Remus—one that might never be quite the same again. Accepting this reality proves to be a bitter pill to swallow.

"Angel," Your body instinctively relaxes at the soothing sound of Sirius’s voice. The pillow is gently drawn from your grip, revealing Sirius’ concerned face as it comes into view. "What can I do? What do you need?" he asks, his tone brimming with genuine concern and care.

Kneeling by the side of your bed, his eyes brim with concern, evoking emotion that threatens to overwhelm you once more. You lie on your side, facing him, your makeup smudged and your eyes swollen from tears. Despite your disheveled appearance, he finds you the most beautiful girl in the world.

"Hold on." He murmurs softly before disappearing into your bathroom. The sound of running water fills the silence, a gentle reminder of his comforting presence. Moments later, he returns with a damp cloth in hand, his touch gentle yet firm as he kneels before you. With tender care, he cradles your jaw, his movements deliberate as he gently wipes away the remnants of makeup from your face, his actions speaking volumes of his unwavering support and affection.

"All clean," he whispers softly, discarding the cloth onto the ground with the intention of dealing with it later. "What do you need?"

"You." You sniffle, tugging gently at his hand to convey your desire for him to join you in bed. Without hesitation, Sirius kicks off his shoes and slips under the covers beside you. With a tender gesture, he reaches out, his hand gently brushing the hair away from your face as he settles in beside you. Your faces hover mere inches apart, a tantalizing proximity that he tries to distract from by focusing on the simple task of brushing your hair away, the urge to kiss you tugging at the corners of his mind.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pull you away from the party." You murmur apologetically, your gaze meeting his. His eyes snap to yours, a flicker of offense crossing his features.

"I would drop anything for you." He responds earnestly, his sincerity shining through in his words, leaving no room for doubt. A sharp inhale escapes your lips as you stare back at him, the weight of his commitment settling between you.

"What happened, angel?" he asks gently, his eyes reflecting a hint of guilt for prying. As your eyes well up with tears once more, Sirius feels a pang of remorse for pressing the matter. He's about to apologize and suggest forgetting about it when you offer an answer, leaving him momentarily speechless.

"I overheard Peter and Remus." You confess, your voice trembling with vulnerability. Sirius forces down the surge of jealousy that threatens to consume him at the mention of Remus. 

"Peter told him that everyone thought he and I would get together." You continue, your words hanging in the air, heavy with disappointment and hurt. Sirius listens attentively, his heart aching for the pain etched in your voice.

"Remus told him that he couldn’t ever see me like that." You reveal, your voice wavering with emotion. "I know it’s stupid since he has a girlfriend, but-" You pause to draw in a shuddering breath, and Sirius gently brushes away the tears that cascade down your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose.

"It hurt," you confess, the rawness of your emotions laid bare. "That he’s never once seen me the way I have always seen him. We’ve always been just friends, and it sucks." Each word carries the weight of your longing and disappointment.

Sirius sighs, his voice tinged with empathy, "I love Remus, I do, but he can be blind sometimes. So in his head and down on himself that he misses what’s in front of him. And he truly missed out on the most perfect girl there is. But I promise you that there is a guy out there who will recognize what an angel you are, and he won’t ever let you go."

Your eyes well up with tears again, and Sirius starts to panic that he said something wrong. But then you're wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your head into the crook of his neck.

Your voice is muffled as you speak, "Please stay here with me tonight?"

"Whatever you want, angel." Sirius responds tenderly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, knowing there is no way he’d ever be able to deny you.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

James looks bewildered. "You aren’t going to sit with us?" he asks, confusion evident in his voice.

You stand behind your typical spot, observing the boys' reactions as they stare at you as though you've just delivered the worst news imaginable. For years, ever since you had met the boys, you had been sitting with them every day. This spot held a sense of familiarity and comfort, a symbol of your friendship with them. Thus, your decision to sit with the girls today comes as a major surprise.

Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas occupy seats further down the table. While they would occasionally join your circle, especially after Lily and James got together, Lily had once confided in you that she valued having space and prioritizing her friendships, too; she didn’t want to spend all her time with James. To everyone's surprise, James had been okay with this arrangement and had even agreed.

“I’m going to sit down the table with the girls. You’ll still be able to see me; we can wave at each other!” You offer James a hopeful smile, but he shakes his head, letting out a dramatic sigh.

Pointing his fork in your direction, James asserts, “It’s not the same, and you know it.”

“Sit with us, I feel like I hardly see you.” Remus protests and your stomach sinks as you make eye contact with him. Ever since you overheard Remus tell Peter he didn’t have feelings for you, you had been finding every excuse possible to avoid him.

It’s been a week since the party, and you can now admit that you've successfully avoided any alone time with Remus. By now, it's clear he senses something amiss. Every time he tries to approach you, you have an excuse ready for why you can't study together again or why you can't chat. What's worse is that it's only him you're avoiding. You still engage in normal chats with Peter in the common room and banter back and forth with James as usual. And Sirius, well, you hardly leave his side. Wherever you go, Sirius isn't far away, a constant presence by your side.

Not only that, but it seemed as if you couldn't get enough of each other—cuddled up on the common room couch, shoulder to shoulder during meals, and always side by side while walking to Black Lake. Sirius and you were growing increasingly closer with each passing day.

It was driving Remus crazy.

He looks at you pleadingly, his expression betraying the torment of seeing you drift away from him. You know his distress can't stem solely from your decision to sit with the girls. He started pulling away first, you think bitterly.

"Just wanted to spend some time with the girls, switch things up." You explain with a casual shrug, feeling a sense of awkwardness creeping over you as you shift on your feet. Remus wears a disappointed expression, while James and Peter appear to have already moved on, engaged in a bickering match over who gets the last orange.

"You've been switching things up quite a bit lately." Remus grumbles under his breath, his voice barely audible over the morning chatter in the dinning hall. Only Adeline catches his words as she pulls away to glance at his face, startled by the bitterness in his tone. Unaware of her scrutiny, Remus remains fixated on you, his expression betraying a mixture of longing and frustration.

"Okay, well, I’ll catch you guys later." You announce with a smile, and at that moment, Sirius glances up at you. He wants to tell you how much he'll miss you. Every morning, he eagerly anticipates the sight of your smile, the way you playfully bump your shoulder into his once you take your spot beside him. Your laughter and sweet smile are the highlights of his morning routine.

He'd gladly join you for breakfast with the girls if you asked.

To everyone's surprise, you sling your arms around Sirius' shoulders and tilt your head forward, looking at him from the side. Caught off guard, Sirius freezes in your embrace, trying desperately not to read too much into your unexpected touch.

"I'll wait for you so we can walk to class together. I'll miss you." You whisper, your lips pressing gently onto his cheek. A faint pink sheen of your lipgloss remains on his skin in the shape of your lips, a subtle reminder of your affection.

Before he can respond, you're already pulling away, leaving Sirius to watch you walk back to the girls. His cheeks flush, his mouth slightly parted in surprise. Remus narrows his eyes at the mark you've left behind while Adeline observes the interaction between Sirius and Remus, sensing Remus's agitation.

James lets out a low whistle. "She'll miss you, will she?" he remarks, his tone laced with amusement and curiosity.

“Oh fuck off, mate.” Sirius grumbles before taking a sip of his tea to try and hide his smile.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You sigh, slumping down in your chair, "I don’t think I can handle another flashcard."

Sirius glances up from across the table, finding you lost in contemplation as you stare out the window. It's midday, and the sun's gentle rays illuminate the library, casting a warm glow despite the lingering chill outside. You both share the longing to step into the crisp air outdoors, yet Sirius remained steadfast in his commitment to assisting you with your studies.

"Do you wanna take a break?" Sirius asks, his gaze meeting yours as you glance up from the pile of books and notes spread out before you. Your lips press together, betraying the weight of your internal debate about whether you can afford to step away from your tasks.

"Come on, we can go for a walk." He encourages, his tone gentle yet persuasive as he begins to gather his belongings, preparing to pack his bag.

You concede, “A quick walk.”

The fresh air and the warmth of the sun against your skin felt rejuvenating after spending hours cooped up in the library. Your body ached, and your brain felt numb from the relentless studying. The only thing that kept you going was Sirius, who would slip you pieces of chocolate every time you answered a question correctly. Without him, you would have abandoned your studies hours ago.

As you walk, both of you are enveloped in a quiet tranquility, lost in your own thoughts. It's a comfortable silence, where neither of you feels compelled to fill the gaps with conversation. Instead, you simply bump into each other occasionally, exchanging shy smiles that speak volumes without a single word being uttered.

"Where are you taking me, Black?" You finally inquire, noting the direction as you pass Black Lake. You stroll leisurely, savoring the symphony of birdsong in the trees and the distant chatter of other students gradually fading into the background. Leaves shudder in response to the gentle breeze, prompting you to wrap your robes tighter around your body. Winter is approaching, and the biting chill in the air serves as a stark reminder of the season's impending arrival.

Sirius smiles in response, his expression warm and inviting, "Somewhere I think you'll like."

"Have I been there before?" You cast a glance at him, observing his wind-blown hair, cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and his bottom lip gently caught between his teeth.

"I hope not." He responds honestly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. The possibility lingers, given that the boys are familiar with this field as well. The mere thought of Remus bringing you here tightens his chest. After all, you and Remus often took walks together, so it wouldn't be too surprising if he had.

Would Remus have brought you here, though? Sirius contemplates quietly. He's never heard you mention it, but he knows you would have. You've always cherished exploring the castle and eagerly shared your discoveries with the boys.

Sirius is startled when you suddenly gasp, excitement laced in your tone, "Oh my Godric. Is that a field of tulips?"

Sirius feels his heart swell at the excitement in your voice. Before he can respond, you stride ahead of him, drawn to the swath of red flowers like a magnet. He remains where he stands, content to watch you as you explore the vibrant field.

A pang of longing washes over him as he wishes he had Lily's muggle camera. This moment would undoubtedly be captured and proudly displayed above his desk among his collection of Polaroids.

"C'mere!" You call out excitedly, your hand extended towards him. Sirius grins, his heart lightening at your enthusiasm as he walks over to join you. Once he reaches you, he gladly grasps your hand, feeling a rush of warmth at the connection.

You lead him further into the field, your laughter carrying on the gentle breeze. Finally, you drop into the middle of the sea of tulips, tugging him along with you, and for a moment, the world feels suspended in the beauty of the moment.

Tilting your head towards the sun, you sigh happily. "I didn’t know this was here," you remark, your voice filled with wonder.

"Found it with the boys a couple of weeks ago." Sirius responds, his fingers idly twirling a blade of grass he plucked from the ground.

"Did you pick the tulips you gave me from here?" You inquire, your voice soft with curiosity. Sirius nods in response, a faint blush gracing his cheeks as he recalls the memory. He's relieved that your eyes are still closed, blissfully unaware of his flustered state.

For a few minutes, a comfortable silence settles between you both, allowing the tranquility of the moment to envelop you like a warm embrace.

"Can I tell you something?" You ask, tilting your head back down to look at him, your gaze soft yet curious.

"Anything," Sirius replies, his voice filled with warmth and genuine interest.

"I've never been given flowers before. Whenever you give me a tulip, it's the highlight of my day." You admit softly, shifting so you're sitting with your legs crossed, a vulnerable honesty coloring your words.

"You've never been given flowers? Ever?" Sirius questions, his surprise evident in his tone and expression. You shake your head in response, confirming his disbelief.

He can't even fathom it. How could no one ever have given you flowers before? How does the girl who constantly doodles flowers on her notes never receive them? The thought perplexes him, stirring a mix of incredulity and a newfound determination to ensure you receive the appreciation you deserve.

"Guess I'll be making up for that then." Sirius decides, his voice showing determination as he sends you a devastating smile. Your stomach flutters at the sight.

"Sirius." you say softly, drawing his attention.

"What, angel?" He responds, his tone gentle and attentive.

"Thank you. For being by my side through everything." You express with sincerity, your voice filled with gratitude. 

In the past few weeks, Sirius has been a constant presence by your side. Whenever Remus kissed Adeline, Sirius would offer a comforting touch, silently understanding your feelings. He'd weave silly stories to divert your attention from Adeline's flirtations with Remus, ensuring you never felt alone for even a moment.

He grins in response, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

“Nowhere else, huh?” Your tone is teasing, and Sirius merely rolls his eyes at you, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. You observe him as he picks tulips one by one, gradually assembling a bundle in his hand. Watching him put together a bouquet that you know he will give you fills you with a sense of anticipation. Everything about sitting in a field of flowers with Sirius makes you feel lightheaded as if you're caught in a blissful dream.

Come to think of it, lately, every time Sirius did something for you, it left you feeling dizzy.

"You know it's true. I ditched Hogsmeade this weekend to spend time with you in the library." Sirius says, a hint of amusement in his voice as he recalls the decision.

"That's true, but I did advise you against it. I doubt a day in the library is much of a weekend highlight for you." You reply, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"If you think seeing you surrounded by a field of flowers isn't a weekend highlight, then you're sorely mistaken. Easily a monthly highlight for me." Sirius adds, his eyes sparkling with fondness as he gazes at you amidst the scenic beauty.

“You flirt.” You giggle, your laughter echoing in the tranquil atmosphere, before reclining on the grass and shutting your eyes.

Sirius' features soften at your playful remark. "Only for my favorite girl," he responds tenderly, his voice carrying warmth and affection as he watches over you.

What started as a short walk stretched into two hours spent in the flower field, immersed in conversation and selecting the loveliest blooms together. By the end, Sirius presented you with a bundle of tulips in various hues. Upon entering your dorm room with the flowers in hand, Lily's gasp was so pronounced that it startled you.

“Tell me that Sirius got you those.”

"He picked them for me." You beam, offering the bouquet to Lily for her admiration. "I mean, I helped too, but it was mostly him.”

“Who knew that he was such a romantic?” Marlene gushed, sitting next to Lily on her bed to take a peek.

“I told you he’s into you! Look at these flowers!” Lily cried out, flopping back onto her bed with the flowers pressed into her chest. Marlene laughs from beside her.

You rolled your eyes affectionately, “We're just friends.” Marlene scoffs.

"No, you're not. That little stunt at breakfast you pulled this morning. Hugging him from behind and kissing him? Definitely not platonic." Marlene remarks, her tone teasing yet observant. Embarrassment floods through you; you hadn't planned on being so affectionate with Sirius; it just happened. You're grateful Sirius didn't bring it up; you probably would have collapsed if he had. 

"I just kissed his cheek!" you defend, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks.

Lily grins mischievously. "You should've seen how he looked at you when you walked away."

"Totally lovesick!" Marlene exclaims, adding her enthusiastic agreement to Lily's observation.

"Both of you are being ridiculous. He doesn’t have feelings for me, and even if he did, I need to get over Remus first." Taking the bouquet from Lily, you stride toward your desk to add them to your glass jar full of other flowers. You're almost out of the room. Soon you’ll have to pluck out the ones that are dropping, but you don’t have the heart to do it yet.

The girls were fully aware of the situation. You explained to them why you were so upset the morning after the party. There was no way you could have pretended like something wasn’t wrong. With Sirius sleeping in your bed and your swollen eyes, there was no hiding anything.

"First?" Lily's voice carries a hint of excitement, exchanging a giddy look with Marlene.

You pivot, leaning against your desk. "What?"

"You said first. Like once you get over Remus, you could see yourself being with Sirius."

"No, I didn't." You protest, embarrassment flooding your stomach.

Marlene's grin widens mischievously as she exchanges a knowing glance with Lily. "Oh, but you did. We both heard you."

A nervous laugh escapes your lips as you playfully roll your eyes, "Oh, fuck off, guys.” 

Your friends continue to tease you, their laughter filling the room. Perhaps you were starting to form feelings for Sirius, but you preferred to keep them close to your heart, away from the probing eyes of Lily and Marlene, who always seemed to pick up on every subtle shift in your emotions.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“There you are! I was worried sick!” James exclaims as Sirius opens the door to the dorm. Remus glances up from his book, while Peter remains focused on his homework, unfazed by James' dramatics. Sirius, lost in memories of his afternoon with you, barely registers James' words as he flops onto his bed, a goofy smile lingering on his lips.

It's only when James tosses his pillow at Sirius that he snaps back to reality.

“Oi! What was that for?” Sirius protests, finally acknowledging James' presence with a bemused expression.

“You’re ignoring me!” James accuses, crossing his arms.

Sirius stammers, “I wasn’t! I was just-“

James interrupts, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Daydreaming about Y/n? What did you two get up to anyways?”

Remus stiffens, lowering his book to look at Sirius, “You were with Y/n today?”

Sirius sits back up and exchanges a tense glance with Remus, “Yeah, I was.”

He turns to James, “Helped her study a bit.” He neglects to mention the flower field, wanting to keep that memory to himself. Plus, he knows the boys will tease them every chance they get.

James stares at Sirius, incredulity flashing across his face. "That's all? Sounds boring. Should've come to Hogsmeade with us."

Sirius is about to respond when Remus interjects, his tone betraying a hint of disbelief. "I'm sorry. You turned down Hogsmeade to study? With Y/n?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Yes." Sirius says plainly.

“I’ll ask her to study.” Remus assures, as if that would settle Sirius.

Sirius shrugs, his tone nonchalant. "No need, mate. I've got her."

Remus furrows his brow, considering Sirius's response. "I can still ask her, give her another option," he suggests casually, but there's an undertone of something that Sirius can't quite decipher.

Sirius tenses, meeting Remus's gaze head-on. He's unsure if Remus is hinting at something deeper or if he's simply offering another study option. Nevertheless, Sirius feels a pang of reluctance at the thought of giving up his time with you, even for studying.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Peter huffed, practically slamming himself on the couch next to you, his frustration evident in the way he dropped onto the couch. “Remus and Adeline are getting on my last nerve.”

James glanced up from where he was sitting across from you, his attention momentarily diverted from the game of cards. His eyebrows raised in curiosity as he observed Peter's demeanor. "They makin’ out in the dorm again?" he questioned, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

You turn your head to hide your reaction, your stomach churning with familiar discomfort. After nearly two months of their relationship, you still felt uneasy hearing about them together, effectively reminding you of your lingering feelings for Remus.

It would be a lie to say that your feelings for Remus hadn’t changed. In fact, you were beginning to notice a subtle shift in your perspective, a gradual easing of the discomfort that once swarmed your chest at the sight of him and Adeline together. That twinge of jealousy you used to feel when looking at them was easing up, instead being replaced by a dull ache in your chest.

You found yourself increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of Sirius, his smile and the memories of your time together occupying your mind more frequently than before. You caught yourself smiling at the little moments you shared, replaying conversations and gestures, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence even when he wasn't around.

Peter shook his head against the cushion, his expression irritated. "No, they’re bickering. They've been at it for nearly twenty minutes. Couldn’t get a damn thing done on this essay.”

James wore a look of surprise as he arched his eyebrow, “They’re fighting?”

Peter looked away from the fire to glance over at James blankly, “No, bickering. There’s a difference.” His tone is matter-of-fact and laced with frustration.

“We’ll be quiet, Peter. Work on your essay.” You promise, sending the blond boy a soft smile.

James’ lips curve in a mischievous grin, eyes lit up with amusement, “Guess all relationships have to come out of the honeymoon phase.” He quips, tone playful with satisfaction. Peter sighs, tipping his head back onto the headrest of the couch like he can’t take anymore.

“James, it’s your turn.” You call, the gentle tap of your pointer finger against the cards catches his attention. His eyes flicker down to the cards sprawled between you both before glancing back up at you.

“Did you at least appreciate my pun?” He asks, a hopeful upturn of his lips present.

“It was wonderful.” You affirm, voice soft as if you’re telling a young child that their artwork is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

James’s face lights up with a satisfied smile, and his voice is full of teasing gratitude, “Thank you, Y/n. I knew you would have my back.”

“What does she have your back about?” Sirius’ voice cuts through the air, his sudden appearance causing you and James to glance over at him. Peter opens one eye as Sirius sits on the couch next to him.

James stares at the cards while debating his next move, “She appreciates me for who I am. Maybe you should take some notes from her.” 

Sirius hardly hears James. Instead, his eyes flicker over to you. He finds himself entranced by the subtle movements of your features, the way your eyebrows furrow in playful impatience as you await James to decide. The glow from the fire is dancing over your face, and he has the urge to reach out and touch your cheek, tracing over where the heat has touched. You look gorgeous like this, drenched in the soft light of the fire and so at ease. The words are at the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them down.

As your eyes meet his, a gentle smile graces your lips, and Sirius feels his stomach flip and heart stutter. You’re looking at him with so much warmth that you could rival the fire next to you, and he knows he never wants to forget the way you’re looking at him.

Amidst the crackle of the fire and the soft murmurs of the surrounding conversations, it’s then that Sirius is struck by the sudden realization that sends shockwaves throughout his entire body. He is hit with the truth that he’s been avoiding for ages; he is entirely and desperately in love with you.

Sirius grapples with a fact that feels almost suffocating in its intensity. His gaze falls to his lap, the reality of his situation weighing heavily upon him. He’s in love with a girl who holds feelings for someone else. Not just someone else, but Remus. His best mate, who, as of lately, has shown increasing concern about the nature of your relationship with Sirius. The way he pinches his brows together when you laugh at a joke Sirius makes, the subtle shifts in his demeanor whenever you show Sirius affection- it’s all Sirius can focus on. Remus sees you in a different light, and it’s making Sirius uneasy.

And so, he sits in silence, grappling with the truth that he’s fallen for a girl that will never be his.

“Sirius,” You say softly, your hand gently resting atop his, hoping to bring him back from his thoughts. His eyes dart up to meet yours, and you smile softly. “You okay? You’re quiet.”

No, he isn’t. 

But instead, he offers a reassuring smile and squeezes your hand, “I’m okay, angel. Just tired.”

“Not too tired to lose to me in cards, are you?” James interjects, sporting a cocky grin and cracking his knuckles in intimidation. “I’m tired of playing with Y/n. She wins every time.”

Sirius laughs, hauling himself off the couch to sit beside you both before shuffling the cards.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Y/n.” You startle at Remus’ voice, nearly spilling your cup of tea down your front. He sends you a soft smile, sitting beside you on the couch. You set your tea on the table next to you. Sitting up and shifting your legs to the side and underneath you, you make room for him. The way you were stretched out before hardly allowed him any room.

“Rem.” You greet him, sending him a gentle smile. The corners of his mouth lift at the nickname; he hasn’t heard it for a while.

He leans back against the couch, gaze firm on you, “How was your day?” His voice is gentle and soothing. His voice was always one of your favorite things about him, always a source of comfort to you.

“It’s been alright, not too much to say about it,” Your left shoulder lifts up into a shrug, and you rest your right arm against the couch to prop your head up. Bodies both facing each other. “How was yours?”

“James nearly singed off my eyebrows in potions,” He says amusedly. He’s got bags under his, and his body seems tired. You cringe when you remember the full moon was just a few days ago.

“Not entirely surprising,” You remark with a laugh, mind trailing to all the times James had proved himself not the best partner. As much as you loved James, his tendency to get distracted had cost you during classes plenty of times before. 

“How’s Adeline?” You ask politely, the words coming out with practiced ease despite the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. Remus’s smile falters, and he lets out a sigh, gaze drifting away from you.

“I don’t know.” He admits, hand coming up to run through his hair. He won’t meet your eye.

“You don’t know?” Your brow is quirks in curiosity, and genuine concern is etched onto your features. Memories of Peter complaining about the two bickering flickers back from a week ago.

“She’s not happy,” Remus confesses, his tone is heavy with resignation. “Disappearing for a couple days doesn’t exactly make me boyfriend of the year.”

You nod sympathetically. You understand, if you were in the dark about your boyfriend’s whereabouts for a couple days, you would be upset as well.

“Are you going to tell her?” You asked gently. It felt weird to talk to Remus again after going nearly two months without much interaction. All your time used to be spent with Remus, but Sirius seems to have taken that spot nowadays.

His gaze meets yours as he nervously bites at his bottom lip, he seems apprehensive, “I don’t know if she could handle it.”

“Rem,” You begin, voice soft and resolute, a reflection of the support you have always offered him. Despite the change in your relationship, your commitment to being there for him remains. “She deserves to know, especially if the two of you want to be together.”

His brows are pinched tightly together as he wrings his hands together, “What if she doesn’t take it well? What if she tells-”

You interject gently, “You’ve been dating two months, you should have a feel for how she would react.” 

He meets your eye with an uncertainty, “Y/n.”

“Yeah?” You respond, voice quiet.

“I don’t know if I can tell her. I don’t think it will be as easy as telling you was.”

“You shouldn’t compare her to me.”

“But I do.” Remus whispers, the gravity of his admission catching you off guard. His shoulders are hunched over as he rests his elbows on his knees, hands still nervously wringing together as he looks over at you.

Your breath is caught in your throat. You break eye contact to clear your throat, shifting uneasily on the couch.

“Adeline is your girlfriend, and I’m just your friend. You really shouldn’t compare us, Rem. If you want to be with Adeline, you should really think about telling her.” You murmur, truth stinging as it leaves your mouth.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Marlene sighs, her voice laced with playful incredulity, "Sometimes I wonder how James Potter managed to get you." Sirius barks out a laugh from his spot across from you, his amusement echoing around the room. Lily's mischievous grin widens as she shoots a playful wink at Marlene, enjoying the banter.

"I'm a damn catch, McKinnon!" James retorts dramatically, pulling Lily even closer into his side, the affection between them palpable. Lily leans up to press a kiss on James’ jaw, a tender moment amidst the playful teasing.

"That lapdance you just gave your girlfriend? Horrific." Marlene shakes her head with exaggerated disdain, her expression a mix of amusement and mock disgust.

"If you didn't wanna see it, then you wouldn't have dared me to do it," James fires back with a smirk, the competitive edge still in his tone.

You're all gathered in a circle, indulging in a juvenile game of truth or dare. The boys took charge, rearranging the furniture into a circle so everyone could sit comfortably.

Marlene had insisted upon it, likely hoping to be roped into a dare that would bring her closer to Dorcas. 

You're seated on one of the couches beside Lily, with James on her other side and Peter beside him. Adeline occupies the space to Peter’s left, seated next to Remus on one of the smaller couches. Sirius has claimed an armchair for himself. Marlene and Dorcas are cozied up in another armchair, much to Marlene's delight over the seating arrangement.

While Remus had yet to tell Adeline about his lycanthropy, he was attempting to make amends with her. You sent him a sweet smile and thumbs up when you saw them walking in together. It was clearly tense between the two, but that was to be expected.

Amidst the laughter and playful exchanges, you had failed to notice the tension simmering between Sirius and Remus, evident in the disgruntled glances they exchanged at being seated next to each other.

James turns to you with a devious grin, “My sweet Y/n, you will be picking dare.”

“Excuse me? You can’t pick for me!” You retort, sending James an incredulous look.

“But I have the best dare for you!” James insists, leaning closer with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“No.” You refuse, shaking your head slightly.

“Y/n, please.” He pleads, attempting to send you puppy dog eyes. Marlene snorts from beside you.

Lily sighs, “Y/n, do the dare. He will beg you all night.” You roll your eyes, letting out a sigh that immediately lets James know you have given in.

“Kiss the person you are most attracted to in this room.” Your stomach sinks like a stone, regretting your lack of resistance to James. The group around you comes alive with oohs, except for Remus and Sirius, who sit uneasily, their expressions displaying discomfort.

“Absolutely not. I can’t!” Sirius feels sick. You’re refusing because you can’t kiss Remus- that has to be it. 

“Sorry, can’t back out now! Make your way over to the lucky person.” James sounds far too cheery to be sorry.

The tension in the air becomes palpable as everyone awaits your decision. You draw in a deep breath, summoning your courage before rising to your feet and crossing the room toward him. The anticipation is almost tangible as your friends murmur excitedly, their eyes fixed on you.

You come to a sudden halt, feeling your knees bump against his as he instinctively sits straighter in his chair. Sensing your approach, he spreads his thighs slightly, silently inviting you to take the space between them. His demeanor shifts, a mix of anticipation and apprehension evident in his expression.

"Might make it easier if you sit in his lap." Marlene suggests with a mischievous grin, earning a pointed glare from you over your shoulder.

"You can, angel," he murmurs sweetly, reaching out to gently grasp your hand, his touch reassuring and electric. 

You let out a shaky sigh, feeling a rush of nerves as you ease yourself into his lap, your knees sinking into the cushion and your thighs naturally bracketing his. Ignoring the whistles and playful comments that ring out from your friends, you focus on the warmth of his body beneath you, the steady rhythm of his breath, and the way his hands hover uncertainly before settling lightly on your hips.

"We're waiting!" James calls out, amusement laced in his tone, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Feeling a rush of determination, you gently bring your hand to his cheek, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine and lowering your head towards his. He's quick to meet you, his breath mingling with yours, noses bumping softly in a moment of sweet anticipation.

He's patient, his breath mixing with yours as he waits for you to make the first move. With a tender touch, you tilt your face closer, feeling the gentle brush of your lips against his in the softest kiss. For a fleeting moment, you both linger there, foreheads pressed together, lost in the moment’s intimacy.

“Tell me this isn’t because you couldn’t kiss him.” His voice is raspy, filled with longing, sending your mind spiraling. His voice is quiet, ensuring that no one will hear him but you.

“You’re the only one I thought of.” You admit softly, hoping you don’t sound nearly as wrecked as you feel.

Sirius surges forward, his lips meeting yours with a passion that catches you off guard, causing a surprised moan to settle in your throat, lost in the whirlwind of sensations and emotions. Your friends' whistles and hollers fade into the background, overshadowed by the intensity of your focus on Sirius.

Your fingers weave through his hair, a silent plea to draw him closer, to merge the space between you. His hand glides from your hip, settling tenderly against your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles across your skin. When you roll your hips involuntarily, Sirius lets out a tortured groan and your blood simmers.

"Okay, okay! We've seen enough!" James hollers, his voice breaking you both out of the moment. As James's voice echoes through the air, you part from Sirius, the gravity of what you have both just done settles in. Your chests heave in unison, lips swollen from kisses and cheeks flushed.

Frozen, you and Sirius sit there, stunned, oblivious to the teasing of your friends. The air crackles with tension as you both lock gazes, the desire to lean in and kiss him again overwhelming you.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Your mind remains frazzled in the aftermath of kissing Sirius. No matter how much you attempt to push it away, it's as though your body stubbornly clings to the memory of his lips upon yours, as if you're still nestled in his lap, feeling the gentle pressure of his hands on your hips. Both of you exchanged shy smiles as you gently slid off his lap, yet inside, your stomach churned with disappointment at the prospect of returning to your previous seat. Truthfully, you wanted to linger longer, to settle beneath his arm, and remain close to him.

In all honesty, Remus didn't even flicker into your thoughts when James issued his dare. The realization of this truth sends a shiver down your spine. When had Sirius managed to steal the place in your thoughts that Remus had held for so long?

Perhaps it was in the way he had cared for you like no one else ever had.

The sight of a steaming cup of tea, reliably waiting for you in your designated spot at the table. Even when he could have been enjoying himself in Hogsmeade, he chose to stay behind and help you study, just because you mentioned not having Remus to study with. And the simple yet heartfelt gesture of presenting you with fresh tulips just because you mentioned you had never gotten flowers before.

How had you moved on from Remus without even noticing? Perhaps that subtle ache in your chest whenever you glanced at Remus and Adeline stemmed from the change in friendship between you both. Maybe those tear-filled initial weeks spent with Sirius comforting you were a form of grieving the relationship that could never be with Remus. 

While Sirius helped you to get over Remus, he had been gently guiding you toward developing feelings for him instead without even realizing it.

After watching your kiss with Sirius, Remus withdrew from the game entirely. The memory of your intimate moment with Sirius replayed incessantly in his mind, each repetition adding to the sting in his chest. In a fleeting moment of vulnerability, he had allowed himself to entertain the hope that it might have been him you chose to kiss. However, the presence of Adeline at his side swiftly extinguished that flicker of optimism, leaving him feeling profoundly disappointed and conflicted with himself.

The sight of Sirius enveloping you in his arms, and the undeniable chemistry between the two of you, stirred a thick feeling of dread in his stomach.

Each soft kiss, each exchanged glance, seemed to intensify the bitter pang of jealousy gnawing at his insides. It was as though a veil had been lifted, revealing a reality he had been trying to deny—the depth of his feelings for you. And the realization that he might lose you for good.

"Remus! Truth or dare?" Dorcas inquired, her eyes alight with mischief.

Remus let out a resigned sigh; he wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with a dare.

"Truth," he replied, hoping for a relatively simple question.

Dorcas wasted no time in posing her question, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Who was your first big crush?"

The simplicity of the question drew an immediate protest from James. "Lame!" he squawked, his tone dripping with dissatisfaction. "Ask him something better."

Marlene swiftly came to Dorcas's defense, her voice laced with defiance. "Back off, James," she retorted sharply. "She can ask whatever the hell she wants,” She bit out before turning to Dorcas. “Great question, love." Her words sounded entirely lovesick.

"Uh, my first big crush was Y/n." Remus confessed, his gaze darting toward you, eager to gauge your reaction amidst the tension. However, he failed to notice the subtle tensing of Adeline beside him, her expression morphing into one of disbelief as his words hung in the air.

Your brows furrowed, a mixture of confusion and frustration etched across your features as you processed Remus's unexpected admission. The weight of his words lingered, casting a palpable awkwardness over the group as you responded with an unimpressed look.

Sirius felt a surge of nausea rising within him, his gaze narrowing at Remus before anxiously darting over to you, waiting with bated breath to see how you would react to Remus's unexpected confession. Each second felt like an eternity as he searched for any sign of your thoughts or emotions, his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of dread and anticipation.

As he watched your expression carefully, Sirius couldn't help but wonder what you were thinking. Were you filled with hope at his confession? Did you still want him?

“That’s not funny, Rem.” You retort, sending him an entirely unimpressed look.

“I’m not joking.” He insists, his voice has a hint of vulnerability in it. Adeline sends him an incredulous look, but his eyes are solely trained on you.

“That’s bullshit.” You countered, your voice laced with frustration as you pushed back. The tension between you and Remus was palpable, your friends watching both of you carefully. Unsure if they should intervene or not.

“It’s not. Started fourth year, I liked you for years.” Remus confesses, hand tugging through his hair in frustration.

“You said you would never have feelings for me.” Your brows are pinched in disbelief, your voice filled with hurt and frustration.

Remus looks entirely confused, “What are you talking about?”

“With Peter! At the party like a month ago.” You exclaim, memory fresh in your mind. While your feelings for Remus may have faded, the pain from his words hadn’t.

Remus shakes his head slowly, eyes searching yours for understanding, “I never said that, love.”

“You did. You told Peter, ‘I don’t think I could ever think about Y/n like that.’” You reiterated, your voice tinged with disappointment as Remus’s expression faltered, his own words echoing back to him.

“You didn’t hear the rest then.” He says, his voice filled with regret and desperation for you to understand.

Your frustration has bubbled to the surface, “Oh, great. So glad I didn’t stay to hear you continue about how awful it is that everyone thought we would end up together.” Your words are a mixture of sarcasm and hurt

"Y/n, I-" Remus began, his voice trailing off as you cut him off with a sharp interruption.

"Do you know what that feels like? To hear your best friend talk about you with so much disgust?" you demanded, the hurt evident in your voice as you confronted him head-on.

"I wasn’t disgusted!" Remus protested, his own frustration rising to meet yours. "You didn’t hear the rest!" he insisted, his tone tinged with desperation as he struggled to convey his side of the story.

"What else did you say?" It was Adeline who broke the tense silence, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. Remus's gaze shifted to her, startled by her sudden interjection. Her expression was one of disbelief, her brows furrowed and her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a silent testament to her own confusion and dismay at the unfolding situation.

"I said I didn’t think I could think about you like that because of-" Remus's voice faltered, his words hanging in the charged air. You leaned forward, your frustration palpable as you awaited his explanation, your gaze unwavering as you demanded clarity.

"Because of what, Remus?" You pressed, the tension thickening with each passing moment. Remus's eyes darted briefly to Sirius, a flicker of hesitation betraying his inner turmoil, but you caught the movement.

Sensing the rising tension, you glanced over at Sirius, who watches Remus with a tense look. His expression carried a silent message. Urging Remus to choose his words carefully.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Sirius grits out, his voice laced with a raw edge of warning. Remus's uncertainty is evident as he grapples with what he’s just implied.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” Adeline's voice trembles with devastation as she poses the question, her heart laid bare in the vulnerability of the moment. Sirius's reaction is immediate; he stands up abruptly, his movements tense with unspoken frustration as he strides towards the stairs, refusing to linger for Remus's response.

“Sirius.” You call out desperately, rising to your feet swiftly to intercept him. He starts heading for his dorm, but you gently grab his wrist and guide him toward yours instead. Without a word, he follows your lead until you reach your door, both of you stepping inside quietly.

Sirius doesn’t utter a word, his silence filling the space between you as he leans back against your door. His head tilts upward, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers in its expanse. 

You step closer, closing the distance between you, your footsteps echoing softly in the quiet room. With a gentle touch, you place your hand on his cheek, a tender gesture designed to draw his attention back to you. You find yourself more preoccupied with Sirius than the recent events downstairs. Dealing with the situation involving Remus can wait; at this moment, your main concern is resolving things with Sirius.

He lets out a sigh, the weight of his emotions palpable as he drops his gaze from the ceiling to meet yours. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice laced with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability.

You can't help but laugh incredulously at his apology, the sound carrying a blend of surprise and amusement. "What are you sorry for?" You inquire, your tone gentle yet tinged with curiosity, as you search his eyes for the answer.

He sighs, “That you found out this way.”

“About what?” You both know that you already know the answer but that you just want him to say it.

“About Remus’s feelings for you, about my feelings for you.” Sirius admits, his voice soft as he swallows harshly.

You take a deliberate step closer to him, closing the gap between you with a sense of purpose. "And what are your feelings for me?" you repeat, your tone carrying a playful lilt, a silent challenge lingering in your words, daring him to bare his heart to you.

"Y/n," he pleads softly, his hands instinctively finding their place on your hips, drawing you closer to him just an inch. “Remus pretty much spelled it out, didn’t he?”

"I don’t want to hear it from Remus, I want to hear it from you.” You assert, your voice tinged with determination as you press closer to him. His eyes flit down to the diminishing space between your bodies.

He sighs, a soft exhalation laden with unspoken emotions, “You drive me crazy.” He confesses, shaking his head in gentle disbelief. A grin spreads across your face, your heart lightening at the familiar banter between you.

"Yeah? Is that all?" you tease, a playful glint in your eyes as your arms rise to encircle his neck, drawing him closer.

His gaze softens, a hint of vulnerability shining through as he meets your eyes. "I’m crazy about you, have been since the moment I met you." He confesses, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

His words ignite a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach, a giddiness that bubbles up from within. Unable to contain the surge of emotions, you rise onto your toes, closing the gap between you as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss. He lets out a surprised hum, circling his arms around your waist and hauling you into him.

He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead on yours, his expression tinged with uncertainty, "Y/n,” He murmurs, his voice laced with apprehension, “I can’t do this if you still want Remus.”

You pull back slightly, creating a small space between you yet maintaining the intimacy of your connection as you gaze into his eyes. "Do you think I would have followed you if I still wanted Remus?" You inquire softly, your voice imbued with sincerity.

"I meant every word when I told you that you were the only one I thought of for James’ dare." You continue, your words carrying a gentle reassurance, seeking to dispel any lingering doubts or insecurities that may linger between you.

"I want you, Sirius." You whisper earnestly, your voice soft yet resolute, laying bare your desires and intentions as you seek clarity and connection with him.

The smile he gives you is radiant, brimming with unabridged happiness, illuminating his features with an undeniable warmth that reflects the depth of his emotions.

"I've been dreaming of you saying that for ages." You squeal with uncontainable delight as he dips down and scoops you up, your legs instinctively circling his waist. Together, you embark on a journey towards your bed, his steps sure and purposeful, each movement imbued with a sense of anticipation and excitement.

He settles onto the bed, seating you gently in his lap, and you can't help but giggle uncontrollably, the sound filling the room with infectious joy as you revel in the sheer exhilaration of the moment shared between you.

As you lean down and press your lips onto his, he exhales softly, as if shedding all his worries, finding true peace in the gentle brush of your lips against his. He's never encountered a feeling of rightness as profound as this throughout his life. He is completely done for.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Lily and Marlene didn't return to the dorm last night. After the awkward end to your game of truth or dare, you assumed they were giving you some space. And frankly, you were grateful for it. 

You weren't eager to delve into the topic of Remus confessing his past feelings for you. Although he didn't explicitly reveal whether or not those feelings still lingered, the reactions from both Adeline and Sirius served as a telling response.

You knew that a conversation with Remus was inevitable. Yet nervousness gnawed at you. What if there was no salvaging what remained of your friendship? Despite the awkwardness of the past few months, the desire to keep him in your life persisted, making the conversation all the more important.

The night unfolded with you and Sirius intertwined, lost in stolen kisses and hushed conversations within the dimly lit dorm. You had never felt so content in your whole life. Being with Sirius felt like a breath of fresh air. There were no lingering doubts about his feelings; his actions spoke volumes, leaving no room for uncertainty. Reflecting on the past, you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever been so blind to his affections.

“You almost ready m’love?” Sirius called, casting a glance your way as he deftly tied his tie in front of your mirror.

His endearment sent a flutter through your heart. It felt as though the kiss with Sirius last night had unleashed a torrent of emotions, flooding your senses with newfound intensity. It sent a thrill through your body, yet you felt somewhat disheartened as well. How had you managed to overlook Sirius for so long? He had been there all along, yet you found yourself pining over Remus, who had seemed indifferent to your feelings.

"Yeah, whenever you’re ready." You offered a soft smile as you slipped on your final shoe, steadying yourself with a gentle grip on the bedpost.

You rose to your full height, crossing the distance to Sirius, who advanced to meet you halfway, his hands finding their place on your hips. You encircled your arms around his neck, drawing yourself nearer to him. He smiled warmly down at you, delicately tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear before returning his hand to your hip.

"How do you want to go about this?" Sirius asked his brow furrowing with a hint of unease, his gaze searching yours for guidance.

Your brow pinched in confusion, "Go about what? Us?" For a brief moment, the idea crossed your mind – did Sirius want to go back to the way things were before? However, that thought evaporated as quickly as it appeared when you recalled the firmness of his embrace, the intensity in his gaze fixed upon you.

He nodded, his expression softening with concern. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I understand things might be tense with Remus, and I don’t want to make it harder for you."

"You know what I want?" Sirius tightened his embrace, prompting you to elaborate. "I want you to treat me like I’m yours, show everyone that we’re together. I couldn't care less about what anyone thinks." Both of you understood that anyone referred to Remus. Sirius remained silent, his gaze fixed on you, his expression indecipherable.

Your expression shifted to one of uncertainty, your brows furrowing slightly as you sought clarification. "We're together, right?" You asked, your voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability, searching his eyes for confirmation. 

Sirius's smile radiated such genuine warmth that a flutter of attraction danced in your stomach, “Yeah, baby. We’re together.” He couldn't fathom that he held you, his dream girl, in his arms, asking him if the two of you were together. It took him a moment to fully grasp the reality of the moment. 

He continued, “Don’t think that I’m not going to properly ask you to be mine, though, because I will. I promise.”

Unable to resist, you leaned in, capturing his lips with your own. Instantly, he responded, returning the kiss with equal fervor and intention.

With a reluctant sigh, you pulled away, your fingers lingering against his cheek as you whispered, "We need to get to breakfast."

"I think I can starve." Sirius shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he leaned down to capture your lips once more.

You couldn't help but giggle, gently pushing him away, "Stop it, we gotta go. We’re going to be late." You insisted, a hint of laughter dancing in your voice as you playfully nudged him towards the door, the lingering taste of his kiss still tingling on your lips.

As you entered the common room, a wave of surprise washed over you at the sight of all your friends gathered, comfortably sprawled across the couches and armchairs. You slowed to a stop, catching Sirius off guard as he turned to follow your gaze, his eyes widening in surprise as they landed on the familiar faces of your friends.

"We wanted to make sure you two were okay after last night," Lily paused, her gaze piercing as she shot a pointed glare at Remus, who visibly shrank into the couch cushions. He appeared exhausted as if he hadn't slept all night, and you couldn't help but notice Adeline's absence beside him. 

"But it looks like everything is good?" Lily continued, her voice hopeful as her eyes dropped down to where your hand intertwined with Sirius'.

"Everything's fine," you affirm, offering a soft smile as Sirius squeezes your hand reassuringly. "But I need to talk to you, Rem. Alone.” You add, your tone gentle yet firm, conveying the importance of the coming conversation.

Sirius is the first to break the tense silence, shifting slightly while the others remain rooted in place, their eyes flitting between Remus and you. The atmosphere feels charged with unease, and you can sense the weight of Lily's unspoken words lingering in the air, knowing full well she gave Remus a piece of her mind the moment you left last night.

Before he can move away, you pull him back, your hand gently tugging him closer as you press your lips to his. A surprised sound escapes him before his hands come up to hold your cheeks. Remus clenches his jaw, unable to watch as you both melt into each other. 

James lets out a low, appreciative whistle, and Lily suppresses a smile behind her hand. Peter and Dorcas avert their gaze shyly while Marlene beams at the sight of Sirius melting into you. It's evident that they're all on Team Sirius.

As you both draw back, your gazes locked in mutual adoration, Sirius places another swift kiss on your lips. "I'll have your tea waiting for you," he promises softly.

A bright smile spreads across your face. "Thank you," you reply, your voice filled with warmth and gratitude.

As Sirius finally draws back, the others follow suit. James is already by his best friend's side, chatting animatedly. Lily and Marlene exchange knowing grins with you, silently promising a conversation later. Meanwhile, Peter and Dorcas trail behind, engaging in casual conversation as they meander along.

You sigh, bracing yourself for what promises to be an awkward conversation, and then take a seat beside Remus on the couch. The tension in the air is palpable, amplified by the near emptiness of the common room. Remus sits up straight, stealing a glance in your direction, his demeanor reflecting the unease of the moment.

“Are you okay?” Remus looks mildly surprised, that wasn’t the first thing he expected you to ask.

He clears his throat nervously, “Uh, I’ve been better, honestly. Are you?” 

He observes as you gracefully draw your legs onto the couch, tucking them underneath you. Finally, you meet his gaze, and he's momentarily taken aback by your beauty. A pang of regret hits him like a wave – he wishes he had confronted his feelings for you earlier. Perhaps then, it would have been him sharing kisses with you instead of watching you with his best mate.

"I'm good." Remus watches as you absentmindedly bring your fingers up to brush against your lips, a lovesick expression softening your features. You appear momentarily lost in thought, a dazed quality to your gaze. 

Clearing your throat, you shake off your thoughts, "But I'm disappointed about last night. What on hell was that?"

"Y/n," Remus's voice quivered with sincerity as he addressed you, his eyes reflecting the remorse weighing heavily upon him. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to upset you." He whispered, the words thick with sincerity.. 

You sighed, the weight of your frustration and disappointment lacing your tone, "And Adeline?" Remus looked startled. In the wake of you rushing to follow Sirius, Adeline had bravely broached the subject of his feelings towards you. Caught off guard, Remus found himself grappling for words, acutely aware of his friends' scrutinizing gazes, which bore a mixture of astonishment and disapproval. His hesitation was a silent confession to Adeline, who gathered her belongings swiftly, her departure punctuating the air with an unspoken disappointment. In the ensuing silence, Remus remained rooted, torn between pursuing you and granting you the space he sensed you needed. Regrettably, the thought of going after Adeline hadn't even crossed his mind amidst the dread sitting heavy in his stomach. Remus understood he had messed up, and the weight of his mistake hung heavy upon him.

“She left. I don’t blame her, I hurt her. Who gets a girlfriend when they have feelings for someone else?” A laugh escaped Remus, laden with incredulity. 

His words prompted you to avert your gaze, a subtle gesture betraying the unease settling in the pit of your stomach. The acknowledgment that his feelings for you still lingered left you with an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Silence settles between you both, and it's excruciatingly awkward.

“I’m falling in love with Sirius,” You blurt out, nervously stealing a glance at him, eager to gauge his reaction. “I just, I need you to know that there’s no way anything could’ve happened between us. A couple months ago it would’ve been entirely different. But I was devastated, Rem. Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you be with Adeline? How much that hurt? And then you just admit you have feelings in front of everyone no less, like it wasn’t a big deal. In front of your girlfriend, who clearly cares so much about you. I don’t understand.”

"Dorcas asked—" He began, his voice sounded shaky.

"But you could've passed, or chosen to say another old crush's name!" Your interjection cut through the air, sharp and pointed.

"But there wasn't anyone else." He countered, his words tinged with a hint of desperation.

"Remus." His name hung in the air, heavy with frustration. You sent him with a glare heavy with irritation, and the intensity of your gaze churned a nauseating knot in his stomach.

"I was jealous, okay? To see Sirius hold you and kiss you like I have always wanted was awful. I couldn’t get you out of my head, and then Dorcas asked, and I just said your name."

"Godric, Rem!" You huffed, frustration coloring your tone. "If you had just told me months ago, we could’ve avoided this entire mess." Remus opened his mouth to speak, but you interjected, your words tumbling out with raw emotion. "But at the same time? I’m so grateful that you didn’t tell me, and that Sirius was there, because then I would’ve missed out on a guy who was never afraid to show me that I was his first choice.”

Remus remained silent, his gaze fixed intently on his intertwined fingers. You sat tense on the couch beside him, the air heavy with unresolved tension.

Remus’ eyes are filled with tears when he turns to you, “I know there’s no chance for us anymore, but Y/n, I don’t want to lose you as my best friend. Not having you around the last couple months have been hard. I miss you, and I understand if you’re not ready for that or don’t even want to be my friend. But Y/n, I will do anything to make this up to you.”

 You felt a lump form in your throat, a wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. With a harsh sigh, you turned to Remus, your gaze a mixture of hurt and determination.

"Our friendship won't be fixed right away," you admitted, the words weighted with the frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface. "I'm still frustrated with you." You confessed, your voice tinged with the raw honesty of your emotions.

“Y/n, I’ll do everything to make it up to you. I know everything won’t go back to the way it was, but I just want to be your friend.” His words carry genuine remorse, and you crack.

“Remus, come here.” You extended your arms toward him and Remus engulfs you in his embrace, his fervor nearly knocking you off balance.

You're both holding onto each other tightly, finding comfort in having each other back. A few tears escape your eyes, tracing silent paths down your cheeks as you find solace in the warmth of his embrace.

"I missed you too." You mumble softly into his chest, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

The familiar ease you once shared with Remus doesn't return immediately, but both of you are committed to rebuilding your friendship, to rediscovering that ease and comfort your relationship used to provide. But the effort that is being made means the world to you. 

And so it begins with catching up on reading together. You sit beside Remus on the plush couch, matching copies of a book cradled in your hands as you both immerse yourselves in its pages. Nearby, Marlene and Lily are nestled by the crackling fire, engaged in animated conversation about Marlene's impending decision to finally ask Dorcas out. Peter lounges lazily in an armchair, a contented smile playing on his lips as he indulges in chocolates, his attention drifting between the gossip and the flickering flames.

Sirius's laughter rings out, drawing your gaze toward him like a magnet. You shift your focus to the common room entrance, where Sirius and James have just arrived, their hair still damp from their post-practice showers.

You sit up straighter, a subtle movement, that draws Remus's attention to you. Following your gaze, Remus's eyes shift in the direction of Sirius, who is in the midst of a hearty laugh spurred on by James's joke. However, as Sirius turns and locks eyes with you, his laughter fades into a tender smile, his expression melting into one of affection and adoration. James catches sight of Lily across the room and wastes no time in making his way over to her, his trademark mischievous grin already in place.

"James!" Lily cries out, her voice a mixture of exasperation and amusement, as she dodges away from the curly-headed boy who is shaking his dripping wet hair over her. Marlene's laughter fills the air, and Dorcas grins from beside her. Despite Lily's attempts to escape, James encircles his arms around her waist, drawing her back against his chest, his satifsfied grin matching her infectious laughter. 

“I can’t stand you, James Potter.” Lily sighs, leaning back against James and shaking her head disapprovingly.

Sirius laughs, watching Lily pretend to be annoyed with James, before settling into the seat beside you, a comfortable familiarity enveloping the space between you. When he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your lips, you instinctively lean into his touch, savoring the warmth of his affection. Remus's gaze momentarily drifts away, a subtle pang of jealousy tugging at his chest as he watches the way you lean into his best mate.

In truth, Remus found himself uncertain of his standing with Sirius. Him and Remus were limited in their interactions lately, both boys feeling tense around the other. Unbeknownst to you, Remus flinched involuntarily every time Sirius drew near to you, displaying his lingering feelings for you. Sirius, though not proud of it, found himself grappling with a twinge of possessiveness whenever Remus was close to you. 

Sirius pulled back slightly, a warm smile gracing his features as he met your gaze, "Hi, m'love." He murmured softly, his voice laced with affection and tenderness.

You couldn't help but return his grin, feeling a rush of warmth at his endearing greeting, "Hi." You replied, your voice filled with warmth and fondness, mirroring the affection reflected in his eyes.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Sirius's voice broke the silence, his arm casually draping around your shoulder, drawing you into his side. Your book lay forgotten as his presence captivated your attention.

"Just some studying." You replied, the thought of books and lectures suddenly fading into insignificance.

Sirius leaned in closer, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispered, "I wanna take you somewhere tomorrow." The words stirred memories of a few months ago when you were seated on this very couch with him, grappling with the heartache of trying to move on from Remus.

"Will this be a date?" You asked, unable to contain the excitement bubbling in your voice.

"Yes, angel." Sirius replied, his words soft and tender as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. A radiant grin spread across your face as you reached for your book once more, the anticipation of the upcoming date dancing in your thoughts.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Almost a week slips by before you and Sirius manage to carve out time for a long-awaited date. As Sirius leads you on a walk, your heart swells with emotion when you realize he's taking you to the tulip field. Despite the lingering chill in the air, the sight of the vibrant flowers and the sun's gentle rays reflecting off Black Lake fills you with warmth.

"You're such a romantic." You giggle, leaning into Sirius even more. He responds with a bashful smile, his cheeks tinged pink. You're not sure if it's from the cold or your teasing.

"I didn't know if it would be a good place for a date or not." He admits, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment. He had spent the last week agonizing over where to take you. When he ranted to Peter about it, Peter simply shrugged and suggested Hogsmeade. Sirius had scoffed, his tone teasing yet earnest, telling him he better step it up if he wanted to impress a girl.

"Sirius, this is the cutest spot for a date. Plus, it has meaning to us." You tell him sincerely, and Sirius feels his heart flutter at the term us. He wonders if he'll ever get over the fact that he has his dream girl in his arms, looking at him the same way he looks at you.

As you draw closer, the perfumed air carries the unmistakable scent of spring, and the gentle buzzing of bumblebees near the flowers fills your ears. The sounds evoke a sense of nostalgia, transporting you back to your childhood days spent playing in the garden.

"Merlin, I was so stressed about it. I've never planned a date before. I mean, I've gone on dates, but I've never felt this determined to impress someone as much as I have with you," he sighs as if releasing all of his pent-up stress. "I even asked Peter where I should take you."

"Did you? Well, I think this is perfect." You grin, withdrawing your hand from his to lay out the blanket. The thought of crushing tulips under the blanket makes you cringe, so you search for a barren patch to place it over. With care, you shake out the blanket, letting it flutter gracefully before plopping onto it.

Leaning back on your palms, you watch Sirius, who remains standing where you left him, your copy of Pride and Prejudice in his hands. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you as if you're everything he's ever dreamed of.

"Are you going to join me or just stare?" You question, patting the spot next to you invitingly.

"I quite like staring at you." He grins, sending you his famous smile. 

He sits down next to you before laying back and allowing the sun to settle on his skin. The warmth of the rays feels comforting, especially after the last couple of days filled with rain. The melodic songs of birds in the surrounding trees and the sound of your gentle movements create a soothing ambiance, putting him at ease.

You shift, settling onto your back, your eyes tracing the patterns of the soft clouds as they leisurely drift across the vast expanse of the sky. The birds' playful chirps and flutters among the trees add to the serene atmosphere. Sirius follows suit, adjusting his position to face you. As he watches you, he's captivated by the delicate play of sunlight on your features, accentuated by the colorful tulips that bloom around you, adding a vibrant backdrop to the tranquil scene.

He can hardly believe that he's lying next to the girl of his dreams, the one he's thought of for years, yearning for even a moment of her attention. Memories flood back countless times when he watched you with Remus from afar, consumed by jealousy for the time Remus got to spend with you. He would have given anything for just a few minutes alone with you to share a moment that belonged solely to the two of you.

"I talked to Remus earlier today." You remark, his nose crinkling slightly with an involuntary pang of jealousy at the mention of his friend's name. It's become almost instinctual by now. 

"He apologized to Adeline," You start, your expression thoughtful. "He mentioned it started off rough, but in the end, she forgave him, and they wished each other the best."

He hums, “That’s good.”

You giggle, “That’s all?”

Sirius hums softly, propping himself up on his elbow as he gazes down at you. "I'm glad they've found that closure," he murmurs, his tone laced with a hint of distraction.

Feeling his unwavering focus, you gently divert your attention from the sky to meet his gaze. His eyes are locked onto yours with such intensity that it causes a flutter in your chest, leaving your breath caught in your throat. 

He lifts his hands, delicately brushing his thumb against your bottom lip. A small, involuntary sound escapes you, and Sirius responds with a devastating smile, a hint of playfulness dancing in his eyes.

"I don't want to talk about anyone else but us." He whispers, his voice filled with sincerity. His gaze softens as his fingers trace gently across your cheeks, his hand coming to rest on your face, his thumb tenderly brushing against your jawline.

"What about us in particular?" You inquire, the words escaping in a breathless whisper. Your heart quickens its pace, a rhythmic drumming echoing the intensity of the moment, a sensation that always accompanies Sirius's proximity. The air feels charged with anticipation, every nerve tingling with the electricity of his presence.

"I can't get enough of you," he confesses, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your cheek. "How you never leave my mind," he adds, tenderly planting a kiss on your other cheek.

"How you make my heart flip every time I look at you." His lips brush against your forehead before he leans down to rest his against yours. Your eyes flutter closed at his proximity, your body nearly buzzing from the giddiness and anticipation coursing through your veins.

"How my heart is entirely yours." His voice trembles slightly, revealing the depth of his emotions as he utters those heartfelt words, “And that I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Your eyes widen, catching his apprehensive gaze, his nerves evident as he awaits your reaction to his confession Without hesitation, you thread your fingers through his hair and gently pull him down to you, closing the distance between your lips and his in a sweet, affirming kiss.

Sirius lets out a moan, his thumb continuing to brush over your cheek as he deepens the kiss. The warmth of his lips against yours is accompanied by a gentle exploration, each movement conveying a depth of emotion and desire that leaves you breathless. The air is charged with an electric intensity, and in that moment, it feels like time stands still, allowing you to savor the overwhelming connection and longing between you.

You pull away just slightly, your voice trembling with emotion as you gaze into his eyes. In the hushed intimacy of the moment, surrounded by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds, you utter those three profound words, "I am so in love with you. "

Sirius lets out a disbelieving laugh, his smile widening as euphoria bubbles within him. Without hesitation, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a fervent and intense kiss that elicits a desperate moan from your lips. You've never experienced a kiss like this before, filled with such raw passion that it feels like every nerve in your body is set ablaze as if you could melt into him right there and then.

"Please be mine." Sirius pleads, his voice laced with longing and vulnerability against your lips. 

A tender smile graces your lips as you respond, your voice soft and filled with affection, "I'm already yours."

While nestled in the field of tulips, Sirius confesses to you that the very first tulip he gifted you was, in fact, a declaration of his love.

[inthemiddleofmae]

morning embrace - paul mescal x reader

summary - paul comes home after a run to see you making breakfast

word count: ~670

a/n: someone might have watched gladiator ii and fell in love all over again with paul then wrote this instead of writing their uni essay...hmm i wonder who that is!! here's something short n sweet i wrote to make up for the serious lack of paul/lucius fics :(

the london sky was rosy and cloudy; it was 7am on a thursday and the sun was still in the process of rising. you had the perfect view of the city out of your kitchen window, and every time you cooked in here, you reconfirmed in your head that you and paul made the right decision buying the flat almost 6 months ago. though the two of you hadn't lived there for long, it was already home.

the radio was on, as usual, and was playing quietly in the background. the sizzling of eggs and mushrooms on the frying pan quickly overpowered the vocals of a song you couldn't quite recognise.

the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the last remnants of the lavender incense that you burned before going to bed last night. this was the first thing paul smelt when he came through the door, with a slight slam and vibration alerting you to turn around. it was then that the smell of breakfast hit him. beads of sweat trickled down his thick, slightly quivered brows - evidence of his long run through the park.

"morning, love," you greeted him, your voice barely coming through the bustle of the kitchen.

paul, still catching his breath, offered a contented smile. his eyes, however, showcased a hunger not satiated by the run alone. you smiled, looking into his eyes before turning back to the stove to gently stir the almost ready mushrooms.

paul approached you and you could feel his eyes on the back of your head. the smile on your face, still present, grew even wider as you felt his larger, sweaty presence lurking over you, taking a deep inhale of the aroma coming from the pan.

"smells amazing," paul murmured, his nose now pressing gently into the curls of your hair. his voice felt like a gentle caress against what was now the morning quiet, with all other sounds falling into the background, leaving only the intimate space you both shared.

"i aim to please - especially hungry runners." you replied, a teasing glint in your eyes.

though his chest was already lightly touching your back, a magnetic pull seemingly drew the two of you even closer together. paul's arms encircled your waist, and you quickly turned the stove off, for you had expected to be distracted now that you were in the arms of your lover.

“thank you.” paul whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the nape of your neck, making you all flustered and warm inside.

as the aroma of the now finished breakfast continued to fill the air, you turned around in paul's arms to face him. your eyes met first in a silent exchange, then you tilted you head up so your lips could meet - a fusion of passion, the sweet taste of morning, and the slightly salty taste of his sweat.

your soft fingers traced gentle patterns on paul's ever so damp chest as the two of you embraced each other, savoring the rare, quiet morning together. with your busy 9-to-5 job and paul’s demanding acting schedule, moments like this didn’t come often. but with paul on a short break and you having taken a few days off, you were determined to make the most of it. the kiss deepened as the pair of you smiled into it and slowly swayed to the melody in the background.

“you stink, paul.” you whisper after he hesitantly breaks the kiss, both of you bursting into a soft laughter.

“fuck off,” he says playfully, his arms still around your waist. “how about i eat the beautiful breakfast you made me first, and then we can both get in the shower?”

“well i’m not gonna say no to that.” you say as you raise one of your hands and begin admiring his bearded chin.

with one last peck, paul releases his hands from your waist and reaches above you to grab two plates. you can't help but feel content.

[yeyinde]

(this is my first time doing an ask so so sorry if i did anything wrong)

heyy is there going to be a part 2 to dog meat? i’m not being dramatic when i say i’ve literally thought about it every day since reading it for the first time. literally altered my brain chemistry. no worries if not and no rush for anything but just a massive thank you and appreciation for your amazing work! <3333

AHHH thank you!!!! there will be two more parts to dogmeat but it's not a chaptered fic—it's an anthology with three parts, all of them having something to do with Simon being a butcher. none of them are connected.

the next one that i'm hoping to post is Field Dressing which is set in 1977 (plot relevant) and has mc catching a ride out of town with the local butcher, Simon (who was just released from prison after spending 23 years there for the murder of his family—went in at 18 and came out at 41 :/ he hasn't been socialised very well, sorry). he drives a nasty old truck, mocks you for your stupidity (hitchhiking), and makes you hold his cigarettes so he can smoke and drive, and then decides you have zero survival skills to make it out there all alone so he takes it upon himself to teach you a few things.

namely, how to hunt (and also be hunted).

but mostly, Simon just thinks holding you at knifepoint while he teaches you how to fielddress a buck is a cute first date :////

and Ikejime is dark fantasy. Mermaids/Sirens are an extremely rare delicacy enjoyed by the ultra rich (a la pufferfish/fugu) and when a very wealthy client sends over one of the prettiest sirens he's ever seen, Simon isn't sure what he wants to do more: carve you up or keep you all for himself.

[scarletwinterxx]

in the quiet of us - choi seungcheol imagine

tbh this fic came about while listening to milk teeth and did you like her in the morning by niki 🥺 dare i say i'm getting better with the angst haha ofc it's gonna end in a cute way

anywayss i hope you like this one🤍

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You and Seungcheol have been dating for nearly a year, and on the surface, the two of you seem to be an ideal couple—you’re the shy, introspective type, while he’s outgoing, expressive, and always the center of attention. 

Your love for Seungcheol is quiet. It’s gentle, steady, and sometimes, you feel like it’s almost too quiet to be enough for someone like him. You have always loved him in a subtle, understated way, hoping that your affection is enough without needing to shout about it. Seungcheol, on the other hand, is the type who wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s affectionate, always complimenting you and showing his love in grand, showy gestures. 

He never shies away from declaring his feelings to the world.

You will never tell him your reasons for holding back when the truth is you love him with every piece of yourself. You’re terrified that your calm, reserved nature won’t compare to the passion and intensity of his past relationships. You about his ex-girlfriend, the one he once spoke of like she was his soul mate. Cheol has always been open about his past, and while he never directly compares you to her, you can’t help but feel like there are times you’re falling short of the vibrant, adventurous, free-spirited image of the girl who’s still a part of his memories. 

You and Seungcheol are sitting together on the couch, having just returned from a weekend getaway. You’re quiet, lost in thought.

"That trip was amazing, huh? I love how we just got to be spontaneous and go wherever we felt like." Cheol says while looking through the photos of your quick weekend getaway with some of his friends, you watch the big smile on his face 

"Yeah... it was nice." softly you say, Cheol being the mind reader he is, immediately looks at you when he hears your voice

Leaning closer to you he asks, "You don’t sound convinced. What’s on your mind?"

“I’ve been thinking a lot about... us, actually."

Cheol felt his heart skip a beat, and not in a good way. There’s so many breakup scenes that start off with those same words

"Us? What about us?" he asks

"I know you’ve had past relationships. I know you loved… you loved her. And I... I don’t know, Seungcheol. I can’t help but feel like... maybe my way of loving you isn’t enough."

Your sudden confession makes him sit straight up, wondering where all of this is coming from, "What do you mean? Of course, it’s enough. You love me in your own way—"

"But it’s so quiet. I’m not like the others. I’m not as... exciting or loud or memorable. I don’t do the big, dramatic gestures like they did. I’m just... me." you cut him off

You see hurt flash across his eyes, wishing you never said anything. You should’ve just said nothing. To avoid his stare, you look down at your hands that were resting on your lap 

"You’re not being fair to yourself. You’re everything I want, just the way you are." he whispers, feeling more sad and disappointed that you think that way about yourself when you’re quite literally everything to him.

Softly, almost to yourself you say "I’m just scared that you’re going to wake up one day and realize that I’m nothing like the girls you’ve loved before. That you’ll want... someone more. Someone who loves you in a bigger, louder way."

He looks at you, a thousand things running through his mind.

"Look at me." he tells you but you don’t move from where you’re sitting

"I just... I don’t know if I can keep pretending that everything’s fine when I feel so... small in your love." 

Gently turning your chin to face him, he smiles at you

"You don’t have to pretend with me. Not ever."

"But what if I’m not what you need? What if you want someone who—"

Cutting you off gently, he speaks again "I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I love you, the way you love me, and it’s more than enough. You don’t need to be like anyone else, because there’s no one like you. You love me in a way that’s so quiet, so steady—it’s the kind of love I’ve always needed, even if I didn’t realize it until now."

You can’t stop the tears falling down on your cheeks, Cheol does that for you. He wipes them away one by one, with each one he says a vow in his mind to never let anything or anyone even himself make you cry in this lifetime. 

"But... I don’t know how to love any other way. I’m not like you. I can’t... do all the big things you do for me." you whimper

"You don’t need to. I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need loud. I need you, exactly as you are." he shakes his head, holding your face between his hands

He waits for you to say anything else but you don’t. You just embrace him, letting yourself fall apart infront of the only man who knows how to fix it all. And he lets you be. He lets you cry in his arms until you fall asleep, he lets you let go of what you’re feeling. Whispering words of assurance and affirmation, letting you know you’re not alone. 

You’ll never feel alone as long as you have him. 

The next morning, after a long conversation, you and Seungcheol are sitting in the kitchen together. He already made breakfast for the two of you. 

You look at him, still feeling a bit unsure but more at ease.

“So... you’re okay with the way I love you? Even if it’s not loud?" you’re the first one to speak

Softly smiling, he takes your hand "Your love is exactly what I’ve always needed. You love me with a softness, a patience, and I’m so grateful for it. I love how you take the time to listen to me, to show you care in the quietest ways. You don’t have to change who you are for me. I want you."

This makes you smile, little by little your worries disappear. You know it’s going to take some time before you feel okay, it’s a war between you and mind and yet here’s Cheol ready to fight that battle with you.

"I’ve always loved you like that. I just didn’t think it would ever be enough." you whisper

He walks over to your side, leaning in and kissing your forehead) "It’s more than enough. You’re more than enough. Always have been." he tells you

Later that day, Seungcheol left to get some errands done. When he comes back, he surprises you with a small gesture—no grand gesture, just a simple note with a favorite flower from the garden.

"Seungcheol, this is... really sweet." you smile up at him

Leaning against the doorframe, looking at you with affection "I know it’s not a big, loud thing, but I hope it says what I’ve been trying to tell you: I love you exactly as you are. In your quiet, beautiful way."

"I love you, too. In my own way." chucking softly, you shoot him a smile. Walking towards where he was, you throw your arms around him. His arms immediately wraps around you, 

"And I’ll never want anything else."

[joosthead]

agora hills || j.k. f!reader

WARNING #1: explicit real person fiction ahead, dni if below 18. dni if anti-rpf

WARNING #2: explicit rpf/real person fiction content ahead. read at your own risk. dni if anti rpf, dni or read ahead if you simply don’t like rpf lol

₊˚⊹⋆ But today—10th of November, Joost’s 27th birthday and 8 degrees celsius in Amsterdam, you shouldn’t have brought a jacket. 

₊˚⊹⋆ happy (late) birthday <3. part of normal au (previous parts here). set joost's birthday 2024 <3

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader (she/her pronouns used). notfamous!reader. normal au a.k.a. reader has an office job and attends university. reader is not dutch

₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 7.3k

₊˚⊹⋆ cw(s): smut (established relationship, light exhibitionism, semi-public sex, remote control vibrator, slight aggu x reader, slight mention of m!receiving vibrator/assplay because i’m crazy, unprotected piv, creampie, customary joost fic drinking and smoking), normal au sappiness LETS GOOO

WARNING #3: rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it. do not repost this on any other platform, screenshots or text alike. do not click ahead if you don’t want to read rpf. do not interact if you are below 18. how to block tags/words on tumblr.

₊˚⊹⋆ track(s) of the fic: “agora hills” by doja cat, “pressure” by martin garrix ft. tove lo, “shu madame” by ski aggu, “heaven” by mitski (literal direct quote from this song LOL) 

₊˚⊹⋆ junote: vibrator ! au of an au where skiklein isn’t divorced 🩷 lowkey this is a bit normal au worldbuilding heavy! as always thank you to @howisjoostfanfictionforfree <333 my creative partner in crime !! not edited oops

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni, anti rpf dni. 4th and final warning!

You shouldn’t have brought a jacket. 

At least, you shouldn’t have let Joost place his around your shoulders on the way here—it’s his birthday, shouldn’t he be the one being taken care of? Either way, you’re holding his hand as he navigates you to the booth your friends are already at, tugging at the collar as you brush past so many people, an endless supply of warmth cloaking you from all sides. 

This would be fine any other November day in the Netherlands, so cold you contemplate moving somewhere warmer every year if not for your very proudly Dutch boyfriend keeping you here. 

But today—10th of November, Joost’s 27th birthday and 8 degrees celsius in Amsterdam, you shouldn’t have brought a jacket. 

You teeter on high heels; Christian Louboutin So Kates that Joost bought you a while ago and loves, your legs are weak, not at the thin stilettos, but at the dull pulsing between your legs of the remote control egg vibrator nestled securely between them. You two brought it home one day from the sex shop nearest your house, bright pink and surprisingly high tech, an app used to control it through Bluetooth. Even on the lowest setting, it’s strong and steady, and you’re really trying to keep it together as it pushes against your g-spot with every step forward.

Joost pulls you next to him by the hand and puts his arm around you. “You are doing so amazing, mijn schat,” he says, kissing your temple as you squeeze in between people together, and you nod. 

“I better be.” 

“Much better than I did.”  

The policy is always this: you will never try something he wouldn’t try himself first. It’s only fair, considering the multitudes of ideas he has about things you two should try in (and out) of the bedroom. 

His turn: you lubing up your fingers and fingering him open, him slipping the vibrator inside himself, you impishly giggling about the app controls and how pretty it all looked when you knew he’d be destroyed in a matter of moments.  

It was only a week ago—taking a walk in the park near your house at 3 AM together so no one would see you, your hand and your phone in your coat pocket going from low to high, low to high as he gritted his teeth and walked alongside you. You set it the highest vibration pattern it could go—a minute later, he was collapsed on the ground. “Is he alright?” a passerby asked you, eyes alarmed at your sweet boyfriend lying face down and practically convulsing. 

“Yeah, he’s alright. Just weird,” you said, and you two shared a nod and they went along with their day. By the time you trudged back home, getting Joost to the edge and turning it off completely so he wouldn’t get any satisfaction, he was practically begging to be inside you. 

It’s your turn now, but you didn’t exactly expect it to be on the first club outing of the night of his birthday. You’d given Joost his presents earlier today—some boudoir photoshoot pictures you had done months ago, Christian Louboutin boots he’s wearing tonight, a belt buckle of the copyright symbol you found thrifting, some gacha capsules and trinkets you got in secret on your trip to Japan together, a long handwritten letter (5 pages!) waxing poetic about your small and beautiful life with him that he cried at when he read it over the breakfast you brought him this morning. 

There are more presents to be given later today, all planned and gift wrapped, but this one—all indulgence, no planning, no stipulations about how far he can go and when it’ll end for you. Joost asked you if you could do it when you were getting dressed together before this. Pretty black lingerie he got you on a trip to Paris, a dress he surprised you with from some big fashion house, helping you slip on the shoes he so kindly bought you when he asked you on his knees—”Please, schat, can I use it on you tonight?” and you couldn't resist that look on his face, those big blue eyes. 

“Very proud of you, mijn schat,” Joost yells over the music as you near your table. Everyone’s too distracted already to acknowledge you or your strangeness—Tantu and Joost dap each other up, but Ruby is off somewhere else; Appie and Alanis and Stuntje are doing a drinking game they’re very focused on; Aggu (Aggu???) and Marina (Aggu and Marina???) are talking with each other very intently, his arm on the back of the booth behind her. “Do you think you can get us some drinks?” 

You look back up at him, eyes wide. “By myself?” 

“It’s my birthday, baby. I wanna sit down.”

Rolling your eyes, you let him slip into the booth and turn away, annoyed and feeling faint already. The vibrator feels bigger than it looks, pulses harder than it already is; the pattern is periodic like an alarm clock. Once you're halfway to the bar, you look back to Joost and he’s on his phone and torturing you manually—you want to yell, want to scream. In agony, or pleasure? 

There’s so many people at the bar—so many of them you recognize from weekends upon weekends and term breaks after the other partying with Joost and your friends. Some of them you know better than others; Mia and Femke who do Joost’s makeup from time to time; Luuk (Luuk???) from work; Thijs and Enzo and Myron and Brunzyn and Donnie and Donny and oh, this is going to be really bad, isn’t it?

You bob and duck your head—hopefully no one recognizes you as you try and reach an empty stretch of bar where you can hold onto as the vibrations get stronger and stronger. The DJ tonight is playing Buurman Uit Berlijn and you’re unsure if it’s the thrumming bass of the song or the thing stuck inside you that’s dizzying and all-consuming. As you reach out for the bar, you close your eyes and focus.

The mass of dancing and yelling bodies behind and next to you, the pink and purple strobe lights flashing all around, your boyfriend’s music loud and blaring through the speakers, these beautiful torture devices of heels, the sweat sheen on the back of your neck, the matching wetness between your thighs as the high intensity vibration subsides and turns more mellow. 

Joost has finally given you reprieve. 

In waiting for the bartender to get to you, you feel like you’re looking over your shoulder like a madman every second, scared of looking suspicious, but scared of making eye contact with any of the people you know. You stand pin straight, scared of moving it any further, scared of pressing it into your spot. From your right, you hear your name and wince, preparing for some acquaintance or worse—one of Joost’s close friends that you’ve said hi to once but don’t know very well past that.

Turning—it’s just Ruby, and you breathe a sigh of relief once she bounds up to you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug as if you and her haven’t spent the last week together upon her return with Tantu. 

She pulls away from you and you give her a small smile, realizing that the pulses have subsided completely, and you can let your guard down for a moment. 

The smile you give her must not be very convincing—“You look like you're about to be sick, my darling,” Ruby says, placing the back of her hand on your forehead to test out your temperature. She’s going to be disappointed when she finds out the real reason you’re feeling hot. 

“I’m fine,” you say softly, shaking your head. The only person you’re trying to convince at this point is yourself. “Don’t worry, I—“You open your mouth to speak, but the toy just—Joost is so mean to you. So, so mean, because he’s turned it up more, seconds long stretches of it pulsing hard and fast and then nothing, over and over again. Does he have a clear view of this from the booth? Does he just know? All you can get out is a little sigh, hopefully one she wasn’t able to hear over the loud music and all the talking. You close your lips and try to shake it off. 

“Cat got your tongue?” she giggles, then yells to the bartender who you didn’t even know came over, “Two Bacardi colas, thank you!” 

“Thank you, I appre—” you close your eyes as the vibrations become incessant, punching against every part of you. You can imagine Joost’s face back at the table, grinning, pupils dilated and hungry for how embarrassingly wet you are between the legs. “Ruby. For reasons. For reasons I cannot say, I have to pause speaking. I’m going to hold onto you for balance. Please do not say anything about this to anyone,” you say as you drop your head, trying to hide your face from her as you let out a groan. 

Even without seeing her reaction, you’re sure Ruby knows what’s up—you shared a wall for almost four years until she moved to Berlin after graduating, and you’ve heard your fair share of each other’s activities. When you pop back up, gritting your teeth in a grimace that’s supposed to be a smile, Ruby’s giving you a look of surprise and then she rolls her eyes. 

“I can't believe you two, you're disgusting!” she laughs, throwing her head back and giving your arm a squeeze. “You’re both freaks, I guess you were made for each other. Anyways—“ 

Ruby goes into a long tangent about the new apartment she’s about to move into next to her work building in Berlin, how she hopes the album will finally just drop soon so Tantu can stop fussing over the finishing touches, how she really thinks you probably should get back to the table because you’re white-knuckling the sticky bar and it’s concerning her—she’s trying to give you an out by talking to you normally, but you're really unable to get with the program. 

The bartender comes back to you with the two drinks and Ruby hands them to you—”Do you want me to help?” No, you shake your head, because you’re trying to prove yourself to someone, you’re not sure if that’s you or Joost. “Good luck, babe.” 

You teeter back with two Bacardi colas in hand and a calmer vibration keeping you intact for your journey back; if you spilled these drinks all over yourself, you’d have some very choice words for Joost later, and his birthday would be spoiled. But as you near the table (not without Myron trying to wave you over, and you throwing an apologetic look and a raise of your glasses her way, Mia making eye contact with you but you pretending not to notice), you find your stride, and can actually seem to walk without hunching into yourself to hide. Maybe this won’t be bad after all. 

Tantu’s seemed to join in on the drinking game with the others, Aggu and Marina watching them as you place down the Bacos in front of Joost. “Thank you, mijn hart,” he says looking up at you and pursing his lips for a kiss which you give him. Bending over is a terribly bad idea, you find out, the angle of the vibrator adjusting to your new position, and it hits you head on—you open your eyes and glare at him, and he gives you a big smile, kissing you on the cheek. 

It sours your expression even more when you see how close these quarters are, how Tantu and Appie are practically squished together as Stuntje and Marina have a chugging contest, how even with Ruby still at the bar, there isn’t any room for you. 

“There’s nowhere to sit, you can sit on my lap.”

“I can see that,” you mumble, taking off your jacket and giving it to Joost before perching on his lap, his left thigh underneath your ass and the bottom of the table above your legs. 

“Having fun, baby?” Joost says into your neck, the grin on his mouth evident as you sit back on him. 

“Having the worst time, Joosti.”

“Aw, why is that? It’s my birthday, it’s the second best day of the year—what’s not to love?”

“The demonic object you’ve placed inside of me, that’s what’s not to love.” 

You haven’t even gotten the chance to talk to everyone or even say hi—the night’s not about you but they’re still your friends. After the drinking games are over, you’ll have to face them, and they’ll talk to you, and your guilt will be all over your face and you’ll never be able to show yourself at this club ever again. 

You pick a piece of glitter off his cheek, brush some off the thick black rim of his glasses—he’s wearing that jacket he got a while back, the one he wore at Jere’s gig all adorned with pink fabric and women dominating men and “BRAT” over its leopard print background. This jacket exemplifies him perfectly, and you knew that when you recommended it for him to buy. 

“Don’t worry, schat, I told them you were tired from work. They won’t bother you.” 

“It wouldn’t be a bother if you just turned it off.”

“That is no fun, isn't it? I think you should have thought about that in the park last week if you wanted me to be nice.” Joost’s hands run along your sides, snake to your front, splay out on your stomach as he hugs you closer, his chin on your shoulder. “I wouldn’t embarrass you, lieverd,” he says softly, and your nerves are soothed. He kisses your neck and automatically, you roll it to give him more space to kiss, to nip at your skin. “You can trust me.” 

Everyone’s so distracted—what do you even have to worry about? Your group lets out a collective shout, whoops and claps at Marina beating Stuntje decisively even though she looks positively disgusted at the taste of the beers she emptied. Tonight is good—no one is paying attention to you; Joost is absentmindedly mouthing at your pulse point, at your jaw, the stupid vibrator and the terrible app forgotten, apparently. 

You sling your arm around his neck and he brings you closer.“ You haven’t even touched your drink, Joost,” you say, cupping his cheek as he kisses yours, trailing his lips against it until he reaches your own and kisses you deeply, fingers squeezing your thigh as his hand inches up. 

“The drinks can wait.” 

“Can you? We’re in public, remember?” 

“They probably won’t even remember tonight, what’s it matter?” 

From behind you, Aggu’s deep voice in German, the small vocabulary you know from Ruby: “I feel left out, mausi,” said amused, said with Joost’s hand almost between your legs. 

A nickname you gained from your short time on the Friesenjung set, the few interactions you had with August, as he introduced himself. 

You’d never felt intimidated by anyone Joost’s introduced you to—you weren’t even intimidated by Joost when you first met at this very club. You weren’t intimidated by the Dutch celebrities he’d introduced you to; not the Slavs or the Swedes; not Otto, even when he’d treated you and Joost to a Michelin starred dinner and told stories about his decades in the industry. 

Your appearance was a surprise to no one except for Joost—you told him you had work and couldn’t be there for him on the first day of filming. When you showed up, hiding behind your friends you knew on set, you’d made the mistake of not hiding well enough; in the middle of a scene, he spotted you behind someone’s shoulder, entire face lighting up and so happy, he dropped what he was doing and sped to you, hugging you and picking you up off the ground.

“Joost!” you scolded, laughing as he kissed you on the cheeks. “Please, there’s so many people around.” 

“I thought you said you had work?!” Joost said, kissing you again as the people around you dispersed, the scene they were filming fully interrupted now. 

“I wanted to be here for you, it’s a big day.”

His scene partner and someone you’d (sort of) talked to over Facetime when Joost would call him to talk about the song sauntered over, and Joost pulled away from you, keeping his hand around your waist. “This is Aggu, lieverd, and Aggu, this is—“ he gave him your name, “my baby,” “love of my life,” “the busiest person on the planet,” “mein schatz, or whatever you guys say here,” attached to the end of it, and you nodded. 

“That’s me,” you say softly to the other blonde mulleted man now entering your life. You held out your hand to shake and then regretted your decision remembering that it was 2023–who shakes hands in 2023?

Nonetheless, Aggu shook yours. Big hand but a gentle handshake, eyes intense but soft at the same time. You could barely meet them and it seemed like both Joost and August knew. “Wie eine maus,” he said, and you could use enough context clues to figure out what he said about you. “I’m August.”

There was something different about August—Aggu. Even if he was just as rambunctious as your boyfriend, he was quieter than he looked. This aloof, masculine energy seemed to just exude off of him without him having to announce any of it. Half of his face was covered most of the time you saw him, but you already knew he had reason to be so confident. 

As with most interesting things in your life—meeting him on your own happened out on a curb outside of the actual party. Later that day, there was a scene filmed at a corner store, and it turned into a party that went into night, 50 people crammed into the tiny establishment. You took a smoke break while Joost went to the bathroom, and there Aggu was, right behind you, right next to you. 

“You know, you’re very cute,” he said, and you practically sputtered out your drink, practically dropped your cigarette on the ground. 

“I’m Joost’s girlfriend,” you informed though you were sure he knew, and he nodded. 

“I know. He never stops talking about you.”

“Do you care?” 

Aggu laughed, and you smiled at the ground. “I do.” You offered your cigarette, and he shook his head. “Just surprised, you are so different from him.” 

“We’re surprised sometimes, too.” 

Aggu turned to you and you shared a look. You dropped the stub on the ground, the music spilling over and out of the corner store. Wind rustled your hair, and still, he was gazing at you. 

“Baby,” Joost called from behind you, and he was next to you in an instant. 

“I was just talking to Aggu—“

“August,” he corrected. “August,” you repeated softly, and you felt like…like something was being interrupted, but you weren’t even sure what. 

“Bye, mausi,” Aggu said, leaving you and Joost.

The entire exchange was strange—still couldn’t speak firmer or louder than this, couldn’t even look him in the eye in front of Joost. Joost poked fun at you for being so shy—“What’s the matter, baby? He doesn’t bite.”

“For some reason, I don’t believe that.” 

Tonight, Aggu isn’t wearing the goggles—he’s a handsome man with or without them, but you prefer the look without him, getting to see his full face. 

“Why don’t you talk to Aggu, mausi?” Joost snickers and you roll your eyes. 

“You don’t look like you do PDA,” Aggu says, and your cheeks burn. You were never the type to before Joost, but now here you are with a remote-control vibrator inside and his lips on your jaw as you try to speak with his friend. 

“I don’t?” You ask, knowing full well you don’t. 

Joost cups you over your tits, and you almost gasp—He’s normally not so handsy, even if you two are the worst perpetrators of public affection in your group by far. 

“Joost,” you say softly, shaking your head and moving his hand down even though it’s strangely—it’s strangely arousing having him claim you so decisively in front of Aggu. 

“He doesn’t care,” Joost says, but keeps his hand where it is, right under the curve of your breast. 

“I don't care,” Aggu confirms, and you roll your eyes as Joost kisses behind your ear. “Are you two going to do anything for Joost’s birthday?” 

“We’re—Joost, let me talk to him,” you giggle as Joost nips at your neck. “We’re going to Portofino after Joost goes to Berlin.” 

“No invitation for me?” Aggu teases and you roll your eyes, smiling. “It was my birthday a few days ago too, you know?” 

“You’d have to ask Joost for one, I don't make the rules.” 

Joost pauses his lips on you to turn to Aggu and says a simple and decisive, “No,” then turns back to your bitten neck, your jaw. You’re half sure he’s doing this for his own pleasure—it feels like you’re being pecked at by an annoying, albeit very cute and enthusiastic bird. 

“I would take you if I could, Aggu,” you joke, and Aggu gives you a surprised look. Finally, Joost lets off of you, and you can finally turn to your conversation partner fully and give him some attention. 

“Braves mädchen, do you think your boyfriend won’t mind?”

“He likes you—he won’t.” Under you, Joost starts tapping his toe—nothing to distract him now, you guess, his leg moving under you. 

“Nahhh, he’s the jealous type, no? At least when it comes to you.”

You laugh until you don’t—until you widen your eyes, dropping your mouth open and furrowing your eyebrows because wave after wave after wave of pure pleasure hits your g-spot, the vibrations so strong they go through the tail and reach your clit, and you have to stifle a moan by covering your mouth with your hand. You turn back to see Joost on his phone—still restlessly tapping his foot, moving the vibrator even more inside of you. 

“Are you alright, mausi?” 

“She’s alright, just weird,” Joost snickers from behind, using your words from the past against you. 

“I’m-I’m just fine, Aggu,” you say as you clench your thighs together and give him a thin smile, looking back at Joost who’s trying to hide his face from you, thumb still moving on his phone screen. 

“You look—“ 

“I just—oh my god,” you sigh out, clenching your fist as you involuntarily rock back onto Joost and his jostling knee under you, the vibrator being turned up all the way and turning your brain into mush as it kisses your g-spot. You can’t even begin to care about what this looks like, or the fact that Aggu is watching you and your face contorted in pleasure, as much as you’re trying to control yourself. 

“Ah,” Aggu says. 

Just from the look of amused disbelief on his face, the way his eyes flit down at your hands in your lap desperately trying to cover your thighs though there’s nothing to cover up, at least to the eye—you’ve been caught. 

“Joost, what is that?” he says, then leans behind you so Joost can show him the app, the wavelengths on the screen sure to be high frequency. Aggu moves his hand behind you—is he really letting Aggu control it right now? Judging from his movements and the changing patterns of your 

Aggu daps Joost up, then gives you a sly smile and a pat on the cheek. “Don't worry, schatzi, I will keep your secret.”

He looks around at your friends; Ruby and Tantu lazing on the very end, Stuntje and Appie and Alanis and Marina having a heated discussion about something you can’t hear over the music, over the exchange happening between the men on either side of you. 

“Come on, Joost. You’re being mean to her,” Aggu says as Joost brings his arms back around your waist, placing you more on his crotch than his legs. His phone is in his hands (as usual), but this time, he’s got the app wide open. 

The vibrations are at the very top of the little control area, and you can feel it as you drop your head again, concealing your face completely so you can revel in the pleasure without anyone watching. 

Does Joost feel it right now, as you grind back on his lap without even meaning to? Through his jeans, he’s hard, and you can feel it clearly on your ass. 

“She can take it.” 

“Can you?” Aggu asks, turning to you, and you nod almost automatically, even as your thighs start tensing with the lead up to an orgasm. “Whatever you say, schatz.” 

Enough of him—you shift so you're turned away, mostly facing the crowd, mostly facing Joost. You drape your arms around his neck, face scrunching up, mouth dropping open as the vibrations pulse hard and fast so deep inside you. 

“Feel good?” Joost says, and you nod, trying to keep it together even as that knot ties in your stomach. He watches your face intently, pupils blown out and his hand rubbing circles on your back as you hold back a sob. The song over the speakers is Normalje Bass, the bass booming through your body inside-out. You hope and pray none of your friends are watching—you know Aggu is, even if your face is hidden from him. 

“I’m cumming,” you say as quietly as you can, lips parting with your quiet sighs as the waves of your orgasm start, so intense from all of the internal stimulation. 

“I know,” Joost soothes. “Just kiss me.” 

You moan into his mouth, pushing against him so he can muffle your sounds; you know that even if you were louder than this, the music would just drown you out, but his lips on yours, his hands on your body—they relax you. Joost moves his big hand to the nape of your neck, licking into your mouth. 

He tastes like cigarette smoke, smells like his heady cologne, nose bumping against yours. You gasp into his mouth as the vibrations continue, whining as it takes you past your point, your legs shaking with the comedown of your climax but the continued overstimulation inside of you. 

“Zo vies, holy shit guys,” Marina yells over the music so you can hear, fake gagging, which earns you a chorus of more fake gagging from the rest, clapping from Ruby and Tantu. 

“It’s my birthday—ik mag doen wat ik wil.” Joost laughs, waving them off. At the same time, he takes out his phone and turns off the vibrator completely, and every muscle in your body relaxes, the waves subsiding. 

Joost gives a chaste kiss to your lips, your cheek as you try and catch your breath as subtly as possible. “You did so good, lieverd.” 

You nod, giving him his own kiss on his cheek for letting up on the toy. “Let’s go to the bathroom,” you breathe, and he grins. 

“You don’t need a break—”

“Nope. Let’s go.”

Standing, you get off his lap and pull at the hem of your dress as you wait for Joost to get up. Your legs are still a bit shaky, the heels not helping at all, but you're too excited to go. 

“Leaving so soon?” Marina pouts, her head on Alanis’ shoulder and big eyes shining at you. You almost want to stay, but—you want Joost inside of you more. 

“They’ll be back,” Ruby teases, rolling her eyes at you both. Cheeks burning as you smile, you shake your head. 

“Maybe,” you say, it’s Joost—this is only the beginning of the night. 

Joost gets up from the booth, his hand on the small of your back immediately and guiding you away. Before you can go, Aggu holds his hand out to your boyfriend—“You’re a lucky man. Can I come?” Aggu grins, winking at you. 

“Fuck no, man,” he says, dapping him up, and you laugh as Joost takes your hand and pulls you along with him through the sea of people all dancing and drinking to his music, all of the friends you and him have made over the years. You give quick hellos to everyone you know, saying sorry and you’ll talk to them later—you’re half sure everyone knows where you’re headed, but you can't seem to care tonight. 

You and Joost are almost to the staircase, not without making several stops to have people wish him gefeliciteerd, hugs for both of you, promises to catch up later, there’s just something you both need to do. The first step on it, a raspy voice yells behind you, “Joostttt!!!” and you look to see Donnie, long hair in French braids and expensive jewelry all along his wrists as he pulls you in for a hug that you reciprocate. “Mijn meisje, how are you doing?” 

“I’m good, Donnie, how are you?” 

“Good, good, celebrating your boy,” he yells, reaching behind you to dap Joost up, the excitement at seeing each other heavy on their raspy laughs as Joost hugs him.

Your boy doesn't think you understand Dutch as well as you do, even after 5 years of him giving you impromptu Juolingo (as he calls them) lessons and even longer living here—“Don’t go to the bathroom for the next 20 minutes, man, alright?” he says to Donnie in the language, and you roll your eyes at his boldness.

“20 minuten? Christ, man, jullie zijn allebei verdomd gek,” he laughs in disbelief. 

“Het duurt 10 minuten, Donnie, maak je geen zorgen!” you yell back as Joost keeps pulling you up the stairs, and Donnie cackles as you leave him behind. 

There are several bathrooms downstairs, but the one you’re headed to is upstairs and down a hallway and another, so far away from the action it’s no wonder no one uses it—your favorite bathroom to use for…activities, seldom used yet still seedy as hell, the old fluorescents warm and flickering, the mirrors cracked and grimy. The sinks and the stalls are always relatively clean though; whether it’s from the lack of use or the club owners actually upkeep it, you don’t know and don’t care as you step into the middle of the three stalls, you and Joost’s favorite one. 

Even if you know that there’s no one in here, the drip of the leaky faucets echoing against walls and not other people, Joost still bends down and checks under and between the stall gaps for you before squeezing into the tight stall with you, locking it. 

Joost takes you by the arms and turns you around so you won't have to touch the slightly gross toilet at any part. “Finally alone,” he breathes, taking your face in his hands and giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose, which you laugh at. 

“What’s that for?” you say as Joost kisses both of your cheeks, then your lips three times in quick succession. 

“I missed you!”

“I sat on your lap the entire time.” 

“You weren’t facing me—I missed you!” 

You pinch his cheek and smile—how lucky you are to spend his birthday together. It wasn’t always like this; whether it was the constant cat-and-mouse game you both played in the beginning of your relationship or your job and school or his abundance of creative projects, every birthday over Facetime and belated celebration makes you love Joost and this even more.  

“You look very sappy,” Joost says, hands on your hips as you brush his bangs back then cup his face.

“I am sappy,” you say softly, and he laughs and kisses you. 

“We don't have time to be sappy—you said 10 minutes to Donnie, didn’t you? Mean, by the way.” Joost takes your hand and kisses your wrist, the silver chrome pendant of his initial dangling from the chain link bracelet he bought you last anniversary. “But I am sappy too, I hope you know.” 

He pretends to chomp on your hand before pulling you in for another kiss. “I’m so happy you're with me.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “Best birthday ever.” Kiss. 

Last year was the best birthday ever, too—you're just glad it only gets better. “I love you too.” Joost squeezes you tight and you groan once he squeezes you too tight, laughing once he lets go. 

“Sorry, I just love you.” 

“I know,” you say, patting Joost on the chest then running your hands down to his new copyright belt buckle, undoing it. He’s so obviously hard, it’s laughable thinking about how he walked through a crowd greeting his friends with a big tent in his jeans. 

You mouth at his neck, saying a quiet, “Hi Lola,” which he laughs at as you kiss along the side, sucking on the skin just slightly—he marks so easily and you've both already made it so obvious what you’re doing at his own birthday celebration. 

Reaching into his pants, you wrap your hand around his shaft and give him a few lazy pumps, the head already leaking precum. Joost smiles into your kiss—such a great birthday present for him. You suck his lower lip into your mouth momentarily, then come back together again, one hand lightly squeezing over the column of his neck, and his dick twitches in your hand in response. 

“Every time,” he whispers, shaking his head at his own arousal giving him away. 

“Mhm,” you hum. “That's why I do it.” 

You give him a few more jerks before turning around to face the other way. 

There are so many Joost doodles from your years together at this club, adding onto the muddled canvas on top of the stripping paint. Your favorite doodle inside your favorite stall is one you have to look up at. A heart around your name + JOOST in thick black Sharpie on the stall door in a little gap between all the graffiti, the dick drawings…the “Ruby was here ♡” in swirly cursive around eye level. Huh. Interesting. You never noticed that one before. 

“Hehe. Us!” Joost says, pointing with his finger at your names together like he didn’t write it there around a year ago. 

“Us,” you say, touching it with your finger. 

There isn’t much time for you to focus on it when Joost snakes his arms around you, one hand reaching into the cups of your dress to knead your tits, and the other reaching under it so he can rub you over your panties. 

“I almost forgot the thing was still inside you,” he murmurs, tugging at the tail of it gently, which makes you sigh out in pleasure. “My new favorite toy, but let me take it out.”

Placing your hands on the stall door, you bend over a little, which is really, about as much as you can bend with how tiny this space is. A few moments pass and you look back to see Joost kneeling on the ground—“Are you…seriously on your phone right now?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Sorry,” Joost says, squeezing your thigh. “I just have an idea.” 

“Okay,” you say, shimmying your thong down with your fingers and letting it fall to your ankles. You lift up the back half of your dress, exposing your ass.

Finally, Joost places his fingers on the back of your thigh, tugs it using his thumb and forefinger again. Slowly, he pulls it out of you and the impossibly wet sound of it, Joost’s eyes so intent on you, makes your cheeks burn fire. You clench around air—it feels so empty now. 

Joost bites your ass cheek, and to your surprise, licks a strip up your slit, which makes you have to hold onto the stall. You turn to look and he's giving you an exaggerated pout. “Can I eat you out?” he asks earnestly, big blue eyes pleading with you and you shake your head no. 

“What does it look like ditching your own celebration for so long? When we get home you can do it.” 

“Fine,” Joost grumbles, getting back up. You watch as he pumps his cock a few times, spreading the precum down his shaft. He swipes the head through your slit, dipping the tip inside of you a few times,  “My god, you’re so wet, schat,” he says, and you can feel it, the smooth and frictionless glide of him through you, “This is crazy.”

“Stop fucking teasing, oh my god,” you sigh, and as you say it, Joost still teases you, the tiniest little thrusts with your pussy enveloping only the head of his cock. 

“Bossy,” he mumbles, and then you hear the familiar loud vibration of the pink toy in his hand. You look at him with wide eyes and he shrugs. “We can use it while we do this.” 

“Mmm…okay,” you say, turning back around and getting ready for him to enter you again. Joost wraps his arms around you again, one holding the toy to your mound and sending the vibrations through your body again, the other cupping your tits from below. 

Slowly, Joost thrusts inside of you, the wet slide of his cock inching inside of you making you shudder. Once he bottoms out, his hips snug against your ass, he whispers into the side of your face, “Ik hou van je,” and you nod, eyes closed in intense pleasure at how big he feels, the pulsing vibrations on your clit. 

Joost pulls you back onto him by the hip, thrusting forward at the same time so they punch against your g-spot even harder. The moans just tumble out of his mouth, strangling out your name, various curses, his pace steady but unforgiving to you in the throes of your arousal. In this position, he’s so big, and you’re so wet, and the vibrator is so strong—you could collapse. 

“So good, baby,” Joost breathes out against your shoulder, and you turn your head to kiss him. He does, but at the same time pressing the toy even harder against your bud, making you sob out his name, clenching around him. “Taking me so well, baby, so good.” 

Your shared moans and breaths bounce off the tile walls, the clack of your heels as you adjust your stance to get him deeper inside of you, Joost’s raspy voice in your ear and his teeth in your neck. The sound of your pussy around him fucking into you incessantly—you should be ashamed at how filthy it sounds, but you aren’t, and you know Joost isn’t either. 

Joost slows down his hips, and you whine at the stalled pace—“Mijn schat, can I see you?” Joost asks, breathless as he slides out of you with that sound again that’s music to your ears, and you turn to face him, wetness smearing your thighs. The vibrations subside completely again, and Joost takes the vibrator off of you. 

“I want to see you, too,” you say, leaning up to kiss him. “But how are we gonna do that?” 

“You’ll just have to trust me.” 

“That isn’t hard to do.” 

Reaching down, he squeezes your thigh, lifting it up and you help hike it up for him. The palm of his hand is under your bent knee, and you look back up at him to tilt your head and give him a confused face.  

“Did you see this in like, a video or something?” you laugh, especially looking down at the absurdity of it all; crammed in the smallest bathroom stall known to man, crotches together, teetering on a high heel while your boyfriend holds up your leg for you. 

“Being away from you so often,” he says, hiking your leg up further and making you yelp and laugh as you almost fall. “It means I get lots of ideas about how I want you.” 

Joost wraps your arms around his shoulders, his neck so you can have better balance—the heels make you perfectly in line with his cock and you both look down and watch as he uses his free hand and his hips to guide his cock into you slowly, parting your folds as it disappears inside of you. Your lips part, brows knit together at the feeling so perfect that you sob out once he bottoms out so deeply in you. 

The sounds are so filthy when Joost starts thrusting, you might actually be ashamed of it for once; the hollow clap of his hips against your pelvis echoing against the dingy walls, the wet slide of his cock in and out and in and out of you—every moan out of your mouth is one you couldn’t dream of holding back, mewling into his jacket shoulder, clinging onto him and leopard print fabric tightly as he fucks into you, tight hand around your hip sliding him into you over and over again. 

Usually you’re the one calling the shots around here, Joost hanging onto your every word as your sweet and loving life partner, but he’s got you in his palm, your hands clawing at the back of his jacket, gripping onto the long hair at the nape of his neck, your heavy breaths and choked out moans as you sob his name out. 

“I’m close, schatje,” Joost breathes into your ear, his big hands kneading your ass as he thrusts, arms wrapped tight so he can keep your leg up for you with how much control you’ve lost over yourself at how amazing he feels inside of you. You nod, not really caring at all, close to the edge yourself and your hips tired from the position—it’s his birthday. He deserves this and more. 

“I love you,” you breathe, resting your cheek on his shoulder and closing your eyes as your orgasm starts, the waves coming through you as you tighten and clench around his cock. You're so stretched open, it’s mind blowing for you, and Joost tells you such, babbling about how tight you feel, how good you are for him as you release hard and fast around him, muffling your sounds with his mouth. 

This stall is so stuffy—sweat on sweat and when you open your eyes, Joost gazes at you, eyes half-lidded as he places your forehead against yours, thrusts firmly as his face contorts in pleasure, as the heat rises between you two, skin slapping on skin, all of your love filling all of the room. 

“I love you, schat, I love you,” he says, kissing you as he groans out into your mouth, painting your walls white, warm and full as he gives you the final hard and stuttering few thrusts, fucking every last drop of his cum into you. 

Joost licks into your mouth, spit on your chins as he softens inside of you, breathy moans coming out of him at the overstimulation of your movements. Now that you’ve both stilled, the setting his come back to you—the drippy faucet, the music bumping through the walls sounding like muffled nonsense though you know it’s Joost’s, the stall door cold against your back and the cum already leaking out of you around his cock. 

“Joost, can you let go of my leg, please?” you say quietly, eyes closed as you catch your breath, both of you somehow lean against the stall door now, him panting into your neck, your leg around his hip. 

“Oopsie,” Joost says, giving you a kiss on your neck before placing your leg on the floor gently and straightening up; he pulls the cups of your dress up so they’re covering your chest again, pulls the hem of it down your thigh so you aren’t so exposed. You can feel it drip down your inner thighs as he reaches down and brings your panties back up—Joost is so sweet. You’ll never get used to it.

“Happy birthday to me,” he sings, laughing as he presses a kiss to your lips and you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in. 

“Happy birthday to you.” 

i so appreciate all of your guys' patience with me when it comes to my writing and i hope you enjoyed!! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments, reblogs always so so appreciated <3 : ) askbox anon on hereeee - juno

[lazyjellyfish300]

H-hey mootie

So it’s my birthday this week

So if you would make a blurb about drider!Miguel killing readers shitty husband then fucking her 🕷️

I would love it 🥺🥺🥺

Yes it’s Halloweeny that’s cause I didn’t have the energy to write it myself no matter the word count or format I know you can do it Justice!! Love ya!!

YES U CAN MY WONDERFUL MOOT. 🎉🎂 Dedicated to the amazing moot 🖤 HAPPY BIRTHDAY ILYYY 🕸️🕷️ @cullen-rutherford-wifey

Huge thanks to my moot adqui for the Spanish translation help, and to @politemenacephd for the inspiration and their flawless Drider!Miguel smut in Arachnophilia that helped me a ton with this fic. 🖤

can I be him

CW: MINORS DNI, X FEM!READER, MONSTERFUCKING, SMUT, P IN V, LOTS OF CUM, NIPPLE PLAY, LIGHT BONDAGE, SPIT, BREEDING, CREAMPIE, ANAL PLAY(idk if that's what it's called) EDGING, DRIDER!MIGUEL, ANGST, MUTUAL PINING, SLIGHTLY STALKER ISH BEHAVIOR, GRAPHIC BLOOD AND VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC DISPUTE, YOU HAVE A SHITTY HUSBAND, MURDER, INFIDELITY, A DARKER PIECE PLS PLSSSSS MIND THE WARNINGS.

Words 6.1k

Miguel shouldn't be doing this. But he can't help it. It was wrong to watch you like this. To want you like this. 

The warm glow cast by the screen floating in front of him softened his chiseled features as he gazed longingly at you through the portal of dimensions that kept you apart. 

A gorgeous, living variant of his own version of you that he could not save. The only one out of thousands he had come across. And believe that when he first lost you, his unfathomable grief kept him searching, scouring, waiting, hoping for months that there was one more universe out there where death didn't rip you away. 

And the first he discovered just had to be one where you belonged to someone else. 

Dated for almost five years now. Married for going on three. And the kicker was that bastard didn't even deserve you. 

The multiverse was cruel. In every other reality, tragedy irrevocably tainted the legacy of Miguel O'Hara. 

Always so close, and yet, never finding peace in any set of cards he was coldly dealt. 

In this particular dimension he was watching you from, he was a mutant with his top half being that of a man and the lower half, that of a spider. A large abdomen adorned in fuzzy black hair with eight enormous thick legs like a tarantula and venomous fangs, irises of bleeding crimson to match. He was a drider. A monster, as far as he was concerned. 

But there were times when he'd watch you that he'd allow himself to be crazy enough to dream that you could love someone like him.

At least in his mind he wasn't chained back by his fears and insecurities. At least for now in the sanctity of his office, your shitty husband didn't exist and you weren't lightyears away in an opposite plane of reality. You could be free to be all his, monstrous features be damned.

A version of you loved him once, would it really be all that far fetched to think you could possibly learn to love him again?

---

Another long day ended. You exhaled a weary sigh as you left the cold of late fall that was descending quickly into winter in the icy world behind you. Closing the door to your house that seldom felt like home these days. 

You supposed your life was okay, but still you wouldn't have chosen it had you known this feeling of monotony would haunt you everywhere you went.

From your job, to sometimes family, but most of all your marriage. Nearly all your life, you felt out of place, but never quite like this. You supposed it started as early as nine months into your relationship with your now husband. 

When he stopped buying flowers, when his texts became fewer, hours at work became longer, his patience shorter. You chalked it up to the unpredictable ebbs and flows of love.

"Love isn't perfect. Not all rainbows and butterflies," you were told time and time again. 

When your husband wanted to, he could be great. When he was bad, he could be exceptionally worse. But how could you be so sure? With practically nothing to compare it to, you supposed this was simply the path that was carved out for you. Mediocrity may be disappointing but passion alone couldn't keep a roof over your head. Stability was still a wiser thing to choose than comfortability. 

Even so, on the eve of your birthday, the empty spot next to you in bed that you slowly became accustomed to delivered that sharp reminder of just how lonely you really were. 

Tears fell and seeking solace, you shamelessly indulged and allowed your mind to visualize him. That mystery man from afar who haunted your dreams and took up permanent residence in your mind with his bewitching crimson eyes. Sometime around when you suspected the love your husband once had for you had all but ceased. 

You don't know why, but this being seemed to call for you, seemed to speak to you. To that forgotten part inside that for the life you couldn't explain why it remained empty.

It was almost like a cosmic bond to him, an adept yearning. An invisible lining etched into your very being that somehow recalled him in a different life. That gorgeous face without a name. 

Miguel. 

----

Miguel stirs awake, realizing he was a victim of sleep while watching you. His attention is called immediately to a growing spat between you and your husband. 

"I asked a simple fucking question, John. Where. were. you."

"And I GAVE YOU A SIMPLE FUCKING ANSWER. Don't. fucking. worry. about. it." 

Miguel sits up, high on alert, spider senses kicking in. Something about John's tone this time was highly unsettling. 

"You know what, I've lost count by now, John..." You flung your hands in the air, weary, defeated and broken down by the endless disappointment, tear soaked trails running from your eyes that hadn't stopped since last night. "But of all the days out of the year...you just couldn't keep it in your pants on my fucking birthday..." 

"Do you fucking hear yourself??" John screamed.  "Nobody said anything about cheating! Where in this entire conversation has there ever even a hint about cheating? I'll fucking tell you: NONE." He points an accusatory finger. "You brought this all on yourself, not me!" 

"It was Carla again, wasn't it." You nodded with a tearful sob, pacing around the living room.  "Carla, fucking, Carla..."

Maybe fixing these pillows could distract you from the agonizing realization that you were reliving the nightmare of John's infidelity. Going on three for three when you thought the first and second time he had learned enough. 

"I didn't sleep with goddamn Carla!!" John grabs a mug and hurls it at the wall. 

That's it. Miguel draws a portal immediately. His yearning had reached a breaking point, and this fight was all the push he needed to come to shove. Miguel O'Hara normally obeyed the rules, but this version of him was unlike the others. 

No rule was above being broken when it came to the lengths he would go for you. 

"Real fucking mature, John. What are you gonna do huh? Gonna hit me, choke me?? Maybe then you'll actually be half the man you think you are!" 

"Ohhh you fucking little..." 

But before the worst can happen, an otherworldly threat makes itself known with a random buzzing orange window opening, allowing an enormous half man, half spider through. 

You and your husband scream in horror, your conflict between you temporarily forgotten. 

"Shit shit SHITTTT!!! WHAT THE FUCK!! John what's happening??" 

"I don't fucking know..." John mumbles in disbelief, flinching as Miguel's long legs pound on the hardwood floor, echoing under his formidable size. His eyes appeared menacing, deeply laced with venomous dislike as he glowered at John, but seemed to soften, if not only for just a fleeting moment when they landed on you. 

"If...if we both don’t get out of this. I need to tell you something" John mumbles almost incoherently as your fingers dug into his arm. 

"W-what?" You turn to look at John, at this face that housed a soul inside it that you once knew but no longer recognized. Almost wordlessly appealing to whatever final shred of respect he had left inside for you as a last ditch effort to give you some semblance of the man you once loved. 

"I ruined everything. Your sister and I fucked. Just know, I'm sorry..."

And before you could even have a moment to compute that final godforsaken dagger he had the nerve to drive into your heart, he shoved you in the way of the monster like a piece of meat so he could save his cowardly ass. 

"JOHN!" the sound was wretched and broken. Devasted by betrayal. You shrieked in fear and brought your arms over your head, prepared to absorb whatever immense pain was about to wrack your whole body, praying frantically for a quick death. 

But, you gasped in alarm when no such fate arrived and Miguel charged headfirst at your fleeing coward of a husband, pinning him to a wall as nearby photographs came down with crash of splintering glass. 

His head hit the wall with a deafening crack, a dark pool of maroon beginning to leak from behind him and drip out of his nose. 

He yelled but the sound was quickly muffled as Miguel's calloused hands wrapped around his throat, a couple trails of blood oozing down his fist.  

"B-babe....aacghkk...please m'ergh sorry, I'm..." John tried to choke out, his teeth now coated in sheer red from where he bit his tongue, quiet trickles audible as the blood from his head seeped onto the floor underneath him.  

Miguel was only moments away from crushing his windpipe, but he untensed his jaw when he heard you trying to catch your breath on the floor. He turned, taking note of how helpless and fearful you looked. 

Though it would have given him immense pleasure to pull the plug, he had to think of you first. 

"Do you mind?" He merely asks, his eyes cold as his fingers tightened just a bit. 

"P-please..." John croaks. "Please...Babe..."

You're still reeling from anger that was slowly turning to anguish. As you looked at John, for the first time you felt nothing. It only took years and him nearly sacrificing you before himself for you to wake up and realize the sorry shell of a man he had turned into. 

"Goodbye, John." You uttered like venom and turned away as you heard the sickening crackle and then wet sound of choking blood as Miguel snapped John's neck in half. 

----

"You okay?" 

"Fine."

Miguel could tell you were lying. After swiftly disposing of the body in a different dimension and washing up, he had came back to discover you hadn't moved an inch from your spot on the floor. Your numbness kept you anchored, gazing into the haunting abyss of the blood spatter that remained on the wall. 

"Hey, easy now. " Miguel murmured as you finally began to stand up. 

"I can handle my own, thanks." 

"Of course, I mean..." He clears his throat, stomach uneasy when you became short with him. "Sorry."

You two sat opposite each other in the living room with you and on the couch and Miguel on the floor as that was the only space that could accommodate him. 

Sometime during the seemingly infinite silence, you realized all of this bullshit your now dead ex managed to put you through in his final hours on earth made you profoundly indifferent to the fact a literal drider broke into your home. 

"Who are you?" You ask at last. "And why didn't you kill me too?"

Miguel looks at you quickly, glad the empty silence was broken at last. "My name is Miguel." He looks down, shame in his expression. "And I, well.."

He doesn't think he should divulge all of his secrets yet. Surviving near death by drider and having your husband's cheating revealed shortly before his untimely death was more than enough burden to bear. 

"I'm not from around here." 

"I gathered that." Your eyes rake over his enormous form. You should be beside yourself. This man creature just killed your husband after all. But something about his voice was calming. Oddly soothing. Dare you say it was, rather attractive?

"So what are you, half spider?" 

For the first time, an inkling of amusement shows on his face. "What, did my eight legs give it away?" 

"Just a little." You hum, bringing your knees to your chest as you allowed yourself to relax. 

"You know, you're...eerily calm about all of this." 

"Heh...I know. Guess I kind of feel like I'm still asleep and I'm gonna wake up any minute." 

"Wanna test that theory?" Miguel quirks a brow. 

You pinch yourself while keeping your deadpan stare, holding it for a moment as if it would do anything. "Nope." 

"Wow." Miguel says sarcastically to which you can't help but snicker. "So, do weird occurrences like this happen to you often? Still doesn't explain why you're not completely hysterical about all this." 

"I watch the news." You shrug. "Crazy shit happens in New York all the time. What with Spider-Man being a thing and all. Just a step above normal, I'd say." 

"Ah." It made sense. Miguel should've known your dimension had its own spider. A little bit of relief washed over him. At least this made things a bit less messy on his end. He falls silent again, stealing little glances of you now and then. 

You were fucking ethereal in person. Being this close was something he only dreamed about. Now that it was happening in real time, he was wracking his mind desperately for ideas on how to drag it out as long as he could. 

"So if I may: how'd you become half spider?" You ask the hard question at last. 

Miguel raises his eyebrows, somewhat relieved you took the first leap. He proceeds to tell you about his lab accident, and how he became spliced with spider DNA.

He tells you about the multiverse, and how there are many versions of him out there with the same story, but his cursed him with the lower half of a mutant unlike most. 

"So, if there's a whole multiverse out there, are there multiple versions of myself too?" You lean your chin on your hand like a curious pupil. 

Miguel nods stiffly, trying to disguise the weight of the information he held. "Yeah. "

You go silent again, then you ask, "Did you know me in your own universe?"

Miguel's heart pangs subtly at the reminder. "Yeah, I did..." He looks away from you but you can't help but continue to stare at him. 

He really was so pleasant to look at. That brown, wavy hair that curled just slightly at the ends you could only imagine would run like silk between your fingers, eyes a hue of red that couldn't be replicated anywhere except the deep center of the rarest rose, lulling voice that dripped from those full lips. This formidableness about him that crumbled into gentleness only when it came to you did absolutely nothing but pull you closer to him. 

For the first time, those unconnected dots in that unanswered part of you in your dreams might be falling into place. 

"Was I quite close to you?" Your heart steadily begins to pick up. 

Miguel shook under his desire to just let the facade fall away and pull you into his arms. But he remained still as he looked back at you, silent plea from behind his words that was only articulated in those eyes that put bleeding sunsets to shame.

"You meant the world to me." 

The pieces coming together prompted these strong emotions you weren't expecting, coming out in broken tears. "So that's why you found me..." You shook your head. 

Miguel's heart tugs outside of his chest. He stands up, drawing closer, then his legs folded as he leaned in to where you sat on the couch. When you didn't pull away, he got the courage to cup your face in both his hands, gently wiping the wetness away. 

"Why didn't you come get me sooner?" It clicks at that very moment. That tender gaze that graced you now could not belong to anyone other than your starcrossed beloved who visited every time you closed your eyes. 

"I wanted to." Miguel must suppress his own tears at this point. Oh how he wanted to, how he ached to.

"Believe me, I really did, mi vida.." 

His term of endearment for you just encourages you to liquify under his touch even more. "But why didn't you?? I was so miserable. I waited for you. I thought you weren't real. Thought you were never coming..." 

"I know, I know." Miguel closed his eyes when your foreheads met at last. This feeling of touching you for the first time elated him, shedded him of his internal torment. He felt like he was soaring.

"You were married and I was..." He sighs deeply, pulling away just a little, "I was... well, me." 

"What do you mean by that?" You furrow your brows, your heart panged by hurt, trying to understand why. Why he deprived himself of this thing you both clearly wanted when it was right there. 

"Nobody as beautiful as you would ever love someone who looks like me.." 

A pit falls to the bottom of your stomach and you immediately shake your head. "No...no, that couldn't be further from the truth, Miguel..." 

You sit up, leaning in as you took his face in your hands again. His eyes went wide in disbelief. "W-what are you..." 

A million chills erupt in Miguel's body that become embers of warmth as your lips touch for the first time. He holds his breath, then sighs. The little break in between the kiss and the low, gentle sound coming from him just encourages you to meet him again, and again. 

Your fingers wind their way into his hair and his own hands couldn't do anything but pull you even closer as the kiss deepened under the weight of the burning passion. The longing was set free, a million questions answered that just kept confirming to Miguel over and over that this couldn't be more right.  Canon be damned, rules be damned as your lips and your hands became a slow dance of sensual exploration. 

"Miguel..." 

"Please I-mnghhh..." He pleads then relents immediately as he lets his head roll gently back, allowing you to continue blazing tantalizing trails of kisses all over his neck. Because of the size difference between you both, he scoops you into his arms off the couch. He can't help but indulge the feeling of your body pressed against his, using his grip on your thighs to grind you ever so lightly against his abdomen. 

The pressure delivered from the press of his body shoots directly to your core and you shamelessly take that as permission to roll your hips slightly as you straddled him, releasing that first moan into his mouth when your lips came back up from exploring the warmth of his neck. 

That delicious little sound you make nearly wrecks him in the best way. Miguel moans equally louder as his kisses dial up in intensity. His teeth begin nipping intermittently as the kiss morphs into a passionate exchange of saliva and collision of lips on lips. The potent venom laced in his fangs pools with the building zeal and it seeps into your mouth, leaving sweet aftertaste whose foreignness only fuels your arousal. 

An enormous thud echoes as Miguel falls backwards, but it does absolutely nothing to deter the flame lit under you. You both find a comfortable rhythm as his hands guide your hips as you ride his large spider abdomen while your makeout session riled with fervor. The coarse bristly hairs were a delicious addition to the addicting friction with each slow roll of your body. Miguel's lips fall open and his eyes falter. You relish this feeling of power over him, this enormous drider who all but became a weak weak man when he was underneath you. 

You bite your lip as each heavenly movement inspires you to leave all shame at the door and start to put on a show. You card your fingers in your hair, moving it in your eyes in erotic display, groaning as you rolled your head every which way in careless abandon, letting your fingers dip in your mouth, squeezing your breasts. 

"Fuckkk me..." Miguel breathes out. "Fuck me, you're so...God, you're so beautiful..." He hands continue to knead the swell of your ass, gritting his teeth as his grip locks down even harder and he feels you humping directly over his slit where his phallus was hardening underneath the ocean of fur to the point of ache. 

His hands then move to play with your breasts, your eyes widened when the spot on your hips is quickly replaced with two of his smaller forelegs, one of them teasing the waistband of your pants as his human hands quickly unclasped your bra. 

"Miguellll...." You mewl as one of his forelegs holds your hip steady while the other works little circles through your clothed clit, all while you felt his warm, wet tongue flatten and tease your left nipple. All you can do at this point is moan and let him wreck you completely, this pleasure that was smoldering you from all sides. 

You gazed down, amazed and aroused to discover that the lower half attached to this beautiful man you were tangled in only fueled the desire, this taboo. Knowing fully well that he was capable of bloodshed, but for now he only wanted to fuck you. You grinded harder against him, answering his soft ministrations of your clit with eager gyrations of your hips. 

"Me vas a terminar matando..."(You'll end up killing me) He weakly chuckled, "So, so perfect..."

Miguel is intoxicated by your breasts, circulating and squeezing them together, while his lips dribbled and slobbered as he sucked them both greedily into his mouth in messy alteration.

Soon both round globes were coated in a dripping sheen of his venom, working the thickening syrup in sloppy circles over both nipples that tingled and numbed you so deliciously along with the teasing circles of his thumbs that it made your back arch to the heavens. 

He leaned back momentarily to admire his handiwork, lower jaw shiny with a mixture of venom and spit, a steamy yet filthy display of his subtle ownership he now felt over you. 

His. 

His rightful claim when he snapped your sorry ass excuse of a husband like a twig. Each little noise you made all for him only swelling his pride and confirming his suspicion that the loser couldn't make you cum like he could. 

Speaking of cumming, you were damn near close. Miguel doesn't want to be greedy and would love to let his sweet little darling cream and squirt all over his stomach right now, but the thought was more appealing for this first time being on his tongue or, if you were up for it, his drider cock. 

"I wanna cum, Miguel, please I wanna cum..." You whined, temporarily losing that sweet spot as he removed his forelegs from their massage on your clit. 

"I know baby, I'm gonna make you cum..." He kissed you. "You'll cum for me. Many times, I'll make sure of it..." He panted, moving a finger underneath your chin. "How do you feel about taking my cock?" 

The straightforward nature of his question answered itself in the further dampening spot in your panties. "Please...Y-yes pleaseee, Miguel. Want you to fuck me...want you to give me your cock..." 

"Yeah?" He groaned, hands slinking all up and down your body, under your clothes, stroking your breasts. "I'll give it to you then, baby...fill you up so good..." 

He paused then kissed you deeply once more. "You're gonna have to trust me... We'll have to try something different so this can work..." 

You nodded. "I trust you, Miguel." 

"Okay..." He whispered. "You're still okay with this?" 

"Yes, I'm okay..." You breathed back. "I'm okay, baby. I want you so badly. I'm willing to try anything so you can be so deep inside of me..." 

"Fuck, me too..." He groaned back against your lips. "Okay, hold on f'me..." 

He set you back down on the couch and you were floored as you watched your beloved turn into an artist, spinning an elaborate web that stretched from floor to ceiling, almost like a swing that was anchored solidly on both sides to the wall. 

"Mi vida..." He offers you his hand like a gentleman, helping you up. "Can I?" He whispers as his hands disappear underneath your clothes. 

"Yes..." 

He strips you carefully and slowly like fine china, letting the anticipation build as every patch of skin slowly became revealed to him. 

Somehow letting him undress you, sliding the rest of your panties off and simply letting his eyes roam freely all over your body felt like the most intimate thing you had done all night, even more so as he still remained fully clothed in his top half as he stood back and drunk in the sight of you like wine. 

"You're simply stunning, love..." 

His hands ghosted low on your hips until they rested on the bare curve of your ass. You jumped and wrapped your thighs around him, Miguel tensed his jaw with a smirk as he kneaded the plump flesh of your ass, hardening again when he felt your bare slick he drew out of your pussy earlier against his stomach. 

He nestled you into the makeshift swing that was soft and sticky as the fibers clung to your bare skin in a natural adhesive. He spun more webs around your ankles, opening them slightly. 

"Is this still okay?" He asked gently again. 

Exhilaration washed over you but you nodded, grinning and easing your legs open in further tease to demonstrate your own building excitement for what was to come. "Yes..." 

"Good." His voice went halfway between a groan again at your pretty pussy blossoming like a flower in front of him. 

He stood back, eyes cloudy and trained on you as he removed his shirt, letting it fall in a quiet heap to the ground. 

You drank him in as well like an offering, moaning audibly when the slit in his fur low on his abdomen opened to reveal a long, thick, hard red cock with pulsating black veins adorning both sides. It curved upwards, and it throbbed, making your mouth water. 

This only made the full sight of your monstrous lover even more alluring as he stood before you in all his drider glory, towering over you even now when you were closer to his eye level in your makeshift swing, with your thighs spread and your silky cunt begging to be filled. 

He shot a web onto your belly, pulling you in closer while you still sat settled on the swing, giggling as he smirked playfully at you, until just the tip of his cock kissed between your folds. 

"Hi there..." You chuckled, tilting your head up, wetting your lips seductively. 

He groaned quietly in a stew of lust as he saw your tongue rake over your bottom lip, 

"Hello, sweetheart...fucking gorgeous thing, you..."

He gently pinched both sides of your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, immediately bringing you into a deep french kiss. 

The feeling of his warm tongue sliding in your mouth shot directly down to your cunt, only amping up in electricity as he teased his plump girthy head of his cock all around your pulsing clit. 

"Miguel....fuck me..." Your spine arched and your nails dug into his shoulder, aggravating the raging arousal he was simmering for you all over his body. "Don't tease me like this, baby..." 

Miguel released a mischievous chuckle that tapered into another one of his low moans that goaded you even deeper into all this pent up frustration you wish he'd take out on your now sopping pussy already.

"Ten paciencia, mi vida, por favor... " (Be patient, my life, please) He cooed sweetly at you, lightly brushing his nose against yours "Gotta get you nice and ready to take me..." 

You breath became choked in your lungs when he begins to massage the fat tip directly over your velvety clit, grunting as he felt another drip of arousal leak and coat all along the thick head. 

"Besides..." He murmured heavily though soft parted lips, entranced with hooded eyes. "The more I edge you, the more pleasureable it'll be when I finally make you cum all over my cock..."

"Baby, please..." The crescendo of arousal swelled in your belly, making your eyes water. You coaxed your body against him faster, desperate to reach that peak, but your movements were minimal due to the webbing. The feeling of emptiness covered you but was quickly eased when he promptly removed his tip from your clit again, this time dragging it down to your dripping entrance. 

"Kiss me..." Miguel murmured and he didn't need to tell you twice. His tongue rolled and rubbed with yours as he began to circle his cock into your wet opening, inch by inch filling you ever so slowly. You gasp into his mouth, realizing this whole time what he was talking about. You felt every rigid vein, every solid groove as his drider cock slowly pushed into you, stretching you beyond comprehension. It was unlike any you've ever taken before. Fuck, it felt better than any you'd ever taken before. 

Once you got past the daunting size, the addicting feeling and pleasure of having his cock inside you set off a new chorus of breathy moans from your lips. You sighed deliciously as you greedily accepted everything he was giving you, so transfixed on his divine face that was watching you the entire time. 

Miguel was irrevocably smitten, completely enamored with the way your warm silky walls wrapped around him, the way you looked at him with immense rapture. Fuck, this feeling was greater than anything he felt in his entire life as your pussy molded to him like it was made for him. "So tight, cariño..." He teased then hissed as he reached the hilt. 

You two gazed at each other, completely silent for what felt like divine eternity. Simply enjoying the feeling of Miguel being buried so deeply inside you. 

"I'm gonna start fucking you..." He whispered. 

"Go slow at first, baby..." You purred back, clenching your pussy around him, biting your lip when it earned another weak grunt from him. "Wanna feel you nice and deep like this for a bit..." 

"Haah...you're a goddamn tease..." Miguel huffed. "I'll try and go slow as long as I can..." The sound that came from him next was downright pathetic as he looked down at where he had you stuffed to the brim, feeling along the emerging bulge in your belly. 

"You feel so fucking good, it's hard not to just fucking ravish you right now..." 

"Mmm...just kiss me, then..." You murmured and he quickly seized onto that opportunity as he slowly began to pump inside you with lengthy, meaningful thrusts. Every movement was so wet and sloppy with drenched noises as a sea of slick began to drool from your pussy, coating his cock that slid in and out of you with greater ease as the moments passed. 

You squeezed your thighs in a death grip around his large waist as you became more hammered off this euphoria, the bristly hairs tickling the sensitive sides along your clit, goading you to grind back into each deep thrust. 

"Shit..." And Miguel's patience flew out the door with that lethal squeeze of your thighs, his hands gripped the curve of your ass as he began to completely unload on your needy wet cunt. You cried out as you took every torturous inch like the absolute whore you were for him in this moment.

It tested your limits but God, this feeling of him thoroughly fucking you nice and hard scratched that nagging, primal itch you experienced ever since you first laid eyes on him. You were practically drooling at this point, laying back and taking it, your submission just fueling his fire, unlocking that deep seated urge to fucking breed this perfect cunt for all it was worth, to ruin you and fuck your brains out so you could feel him for weeks. 

"Miguel, Miguel, Miguellllll....." The hungry, wispy mantra of his name from your lips nearly set him off the edge alone, a raw possession washing over him completely as he railed his cock into you to new limits. 

"You're all mine now, you know that..." 

"I'm all yours Miguel...all yours baby..." 

He cut you off with another fiery kiss. "Wanna cum inside you, baby, can I?" 

"Fffuck yes....yes, Miguel, fill me..." 

"I'll fill you up, baby..." His forelegs come up again, but this time one directly rubbing quick, vibrating circles on your clit, while one gently teased and massaged  the puckered rim of your ass, all while his heavy slick covered cock continued to pound your pussy. "But you're gonna cum f'me first..." 

"Miguel..." 

You nearly black out as you see heaven. Miguel locks in, dipping his head down as he swallowed onto your left breast again, tweaking and tugging the nipple of the right, his mouth salivating and more venom dousing and dripping from his tongue, soaking down your already sweaty body. 

The web renders you helpless as you have no option but to lay there and let him pleasure you past anything you thought you could handle. It felt like overstimulation as you shook and cowered and whined so loudly it could wake the neighbors. 

Your thighs trembled, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes as you forced yourself to let go. The premature ending of all the previous other treatments he bestowed on your spent pussy piled on top of one another, making this one far more intense and overwhelming than the others. Thick cream oozed lewdly out of you, making a sticky, glossy mess of both your pubes and coating his black fur. 

"Cumming, sweetheart..." He panted, dripping sweat all down his reddened face, some of it landing in your mouth but you could care less. Everything about this encounter was so dirty and nasty already. The salacious feeling of consuming every part of one another from head to toe reduced you to nothing but a hole for him to dump his cum in, and you'd let him every time. 

"I-love-you...." 

And his heavy sweaty shaft and bulbous tip nudged your g spot simultaneously as his foreleg's massage of your swollen clit that your orgasm shuddered and rattled your bones, a new sinful coat of wetness squirting and seeping into Miguel's black fur that he soaked in like a badge of honor. 

He forgot to warn you before, but when the coil in his balls finally released and he came inside you, the thick, viscous drider cum was like lava as it spilled and drooled and leaked from your insides. Even after you thought he had emptied, another spurt of a thick rope of cum painted your drenched walls and flooded out of you. 

You both merely panted, eyes locked on each other in a display of intimacy of the deepest and most carnal kind, the overwhelming haze of orgasmic bliss made you both speechless. It almost didn't compute that he told you he loved you. 

You laid there in your spiderweb tangled underneath your drider lover in the now fully emerged daytime, world outside none the wiser of the steamy, lewd acts that took place. All the more enthralling that this became a love nest built on top of your blood lust and mutual yearning that exploded like gasoline on a fire. 

For now, real life could wait as you came back down to Earth and gazed at the flood of slick cum dripping and oozing from both of you. You felt that primal urge kick up again as Miguel smirked, softly stuffing the mess of what he could back inside the pool of glistening white that peeked between your aching folds. 

"And I love you too, Miguel.." You whispered back.

All the puzzle pieces of his scattered life fell back into place as he heard those glorious words hit him like a train. He willed this himself. Even if it meant taking you from another dimension, this thread across time, this inevitable bond was now cemented permanently with your lovemaking and the deepest parts of him that were now inside you. 

He could deal with all that bullshit later; he had his love back with him where she rightfully belonged.

You both laughed to yourselves as you sauntered down this path of mutual bliss and made a plan to leave all this behind and start a new life with your Drider lover in his reality. 

But first...you couldn't help but pull him closer and he couldn't help but groan loudly as he effortlessly slipped inside you again,

"It's you and me against the stars, mi vida..." 

And he groaned before rhythmically moving his body in that sinful dance with yours, 

"But first I'm gonna prove it by fucking you all over again." 

---

[raveninfog]

Secrecy.

Authors note- hi everyone! I’m pretty new to all this and this is my first shot at writing. I’ve always been a spectator, just waiting on amazing authors to update their fics to reading one shots in the middle of the night cause I can’t sleep. I’ve always had ideas in my head about how I’d write and I decided to finally give it a try. Hopefully you’d all enjoy it. Also with that being said, please don’t be afraid to give me some advice on how I can get better as time goes on. 🫶🏼

Enjoy my loves!

Warnings- flirting, light swearing, nicknames, based in the late 40s. Kissing. Sneaking around, Best friend’s older brother. Sergeant James Barnes. Reader is 20 while Bucky is 24.

Genre- Oneshot! Fluff! Best Friends Brother.

You were sitting there at the dining table with your best friend Rebecca. Working on a school project you had to finish with her for your history class. Books laid out in front of you, papers, pencils. The sound of the front door opening was heard since the dining room was right by the front door of the small home. It was him, Rebecca’s older brother bucky. He was home from the base quite early today.

You’ve had a crush on him for a while, how couldn’t you? He was a sergeant, in the military, about to go fight in the war in a couple months. That crush reciprocated from Bucky, it had seemed like he felt the same way about you too. Which later came out to be very true. So you two had a little secret, a little secret relationship..no one knew about.

Not even Rebecca.

As you saw Rebecca get up and go to the kitchen to grab some snacks, Bucky came up behind you. He knew this was the perfect time too. The kitchen wall blocked off the area of the living room you were in. Your head turning to the side to where he was as you heard him, before he leaned in and kissed your lips passionately. His lips met in a fiery clash, soft yet insistent, moving with a rhythm that spoke of longing and urgency with yours. The warmth of his touch was intoxicating, every brush sending shivers down your spine. It was the way your lips fit perfectly within his, moving in sync, that made everything else fade into the background—a perfect balance of softness and intensity, leaving you two breathless and wanting more.

His lips were pliant and eager, parting slightly to deepen the connection, to draw the you closer. There was a slight pressure, firm and deliberate, as if to imprint the moment into a memory. The sensation was both tender and consuming, each movement speaking of unspoken words, of desire that couldn't be contained.

You were caught off guard of course, especially when you had turned your head and there was your boyfriend. You felt his lips on yours, before closing your eyes and kissing him back. The way he had bent down and had his hand on the back of your head, tilted upwards to get a good angle of your perfect lips on his . The warmth of your own breath and his mingled, and the world around you two faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your hearts and lips together.

“Is this how you say hello?...” you whispered to him in between kisses, when you pulled away just slightly for him to capture your lips again in a split second for a moment.

You could feel him pull away, to see if Rebecca was still in the kitchen. Hell, he could hear Rebecca going through the cabinets to find snacks or something.

To his luck, she was still in the kitchen. You had felt his lips right back on yours once again without even saying a single thing to you until he had finally pulled away to speak. He rested his forehead against yours, his thumb moving onto your cheek bone and caressing it gently before his thumb slid down to your bottom lip doing the same.

His lips curled into a soft smirk, his perfect little doll he absolutely adored with all his god damn being. It was almost surprisingly how Rebecca didn’t notice her big brother look at her own best friend with love in his eyes for you.

“What else do you want? A little love tap?” He teased you as he ran his thumb against your chin now.

You finally felt him pull his hands away from you, standing up straight as he fixed his uniform and took a shuffle back just in time as Rebecca had made her way back with some tea she had made. God, Rebecca was so oblivious to the point where it felt too easy. Too easy to the point it felt god damn suspicious.

“Let’s get this project over with so we can go to bed, unless you want Bucky to drive you home Y/N.” Becca said, setting the mug of tea in front you before taking a seat in the chair. Her face having a clear look of annoyance at the papers in front of her.

Bucky turned his head, looking at his little sister because he took a glance at you and cleared his throat a little.

“Why not tell dad to drop her off?” He spoke up. It felt like torture to say that, but he knew he had to play the game of keeping the relationship a secret.

Rebecca rolled her eyes and looked at her older brother before snickering at him.

“Well hello to you too, Why wouldn’t you wanna drop your girlfriend off?”

“WHAT?!” You and Bucky say in sync, shock spreading on his face while your cheeks turned completely red.

“What do you mean wha- oh come on, did you guys REALLY think I was that stupid..you guys aren’t exactly the best at hiding things. Especially since you two are always making out somewhere in the damn house.”

Buckys cheeks turned red as he rubbed the back of his neck, he honestly didn’t know what the hell to say to his little sisters revelation about her knowing everything. Clearly you were embarrassed, not to mention shocked about your best friend knowing. God you knew you and Bucky weren’t ever gonna hear the end of this. Not in a bad way really, more in an annoying way where she’d bring it up at every occasion she sees.

“Uh well…I-If that’s the case then yeah..I’ll drop Y/N off…unless she’s sleeping over.” Bucky said, before clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Ugh pervert..” Becca muttered in disgusted.

[hypernova-writes]

MEDIC SMUTTTTTTT. Medic x Reader smut where Medic is just absolutely enamoured by Reader and wants to fuck her into an oblivion. :)

a/n: Of course you can!!

Obsessed. [Medic x Reader]

To be honest. If someone were to ask Medic when he started feeling the way that he felt about you. He would simply say it was since day one.

Never had he seen someone so beautiful, so amazing, so fiesty until his gaze landed on you.

He witnessed you just blitz through the enemy team one match because they insulted your teammates. The blood that stained your clothes, the way it splattered on your face had his heart going 90 mph.

After he healed you that match, he went into his office and tried to calm himself down. But he couldn't he kept seeing those images of you flash in his eyes.

"Fuck..Fuck..Why can't I get zhem out of my mind! Zhis is not professional!" He tried yelling to himsefl, but his mind was running laps already.

"Oh Luddy..Darling~" He could imagine you, sitting on his examination table, half dressed, ready for him to...examine you. You would beckon him forward...blood on your body, probably from your enemies.

"Come here...I need a doctors touch~" And he would come, all you would have to do is say his name in that little tone you would always do.

Oh the things he would do to you if you'd let him.

He'd want to feel your body up, caress and woship at it like it was an altar he was praying to, and you were the goddess that was going to brighten his world.

He wants to feel your thighs wrap around his head, bury his face in your cunt and have a taste of that pretty pussy of yours. He wanted- no needed to hear you moan for him, because of him. He craved it like a person needs air to breathe.

And oh god when he would think about your pussy, wrapped around his cock, he could feel a shiver go through his body. He could imagine how you would look under him as he fucked into you, taking you against every solid surface in the med bay. From his desk, to the examination table, the floor, his bed, against the wall, hell he'll fuck you standing up. He has the strength.

He just wanted to pump you full of his cum, he just wanted to see his cum dripping from your just so he could fuck it back in-

"Oh Doctor~! I need you for a second!"

Medic snapped back to reality when he realizes that you were standing in his lab. Covered in blood from the previous match, and wearing that damned smirk.

"Hmm? And vhat can I do for you taube?" He asked as he tried to gather himself, he turned his back to you, before he froze upon hearing your next words.

"I need a doctor's touch~"

-> Hi everyone! I'm just starting to put my Kofi and my throne at the end of fics now because of my home situation. [See this post for context] You do not have to donate! It's just something i wanted to start posting this on my fics.

-> Kofi - Throne.

[veryinnovative]

James who everyone assumes must be hooking up with everyone because he is athletic and popular but is actually saving his Jirginity since he wants his first time to be with someone where they love each other

Regulus who would rather die than admit he is even capable of romantic feelings decides to try and seduce James

listen im in bed giggling losing ym shit over ‘jirginity’ it’s such an amazing word. im sleepy as fuck and more than willing to hornypost so lets GO

If there is one thing i love is just approaching charas from a new angle and i love the idea of sexgod proclaimed james potter just being a romantic guy who doesn’t want to be sexually intimate until marriage. it’s just such a reversal on him as a character and how he’s usually written so quite a new sandbox to play and toy in!!!!

I like the idea of that ‘quite liberal parents but a little bit more of a conservative son’ spin on him. NOT POLITICALLY!! But moreso… fleamont and effie got it down young and dirty during the 60s with the wave of sexual liberation and as open-minded and accepting james is, in this au we simply have him year for something a little more intimate and dream-like: a grand wedding, superb ceremonies, the limousine driving down the road with the rattle of empty cans roping behind. taking his spouse to a rose petal covered bedroom and have sex in one the most emotionally charged days of your life.

Thwn you have rat of a man regulus who doesnt think of marriage not even at 3 pm on a sunday afternoon lusting after the one man who won’t have sex and he has to find it out the hard way (literally)

TBH it is a decision he ends up respecting ofc and theyre together for a good 2+ years minimum before marriage and there have been Hiccups TM (‘accidental’ frotting) (regulus doing ungodly things to james’ thighs) (their phone plan being used for devious purposes)

the sleep is clawing onto my consciousness but the fic will 100% end up with james absolutely jackhammering this man into marital oblivion. There’s years of pentup horniness backed into those thrusts. James recalls every single moment he almost broke his personal oath right into regulus’ ear. Regulus has no Idea where the shyness went with Jirgin but possesses no brain power to think bc he’s being rawed through the mattress

[giggle-bee]

oh my god I will cry I will sob I will explode

Concentration

Read on AO3

Summary: A tickle fight breaks out, but Caleb can’t participate because he needs to concentrate on his spell. No, really.

–

Jester hadn’t met any other tieflings before, besides her mama. Hadn’t met many other people, really, until she’d gone off travelling and found her group of friends. She hadn’t known what she’d expected to find out in the big wide world, but Molly was one that she’d never dreamed of.

Her mama had told her how not everyone felt the same as they did about things. How humans and half elves and orcs and goblins were a bit odd about touch in a way that she’d never understand. Jester had never been one to resist the urge to cuddle, to hug, to poke and play with those closest to her.

Molly, apparently, was the same. Jester had barely squeaked out a few giggles at his teasing prods to her belly when she pounced, fingers slipping past the edges of his coat to wriggle at his ribs and draw out delighted snorty laughter.

She giggled at how quickly he folded. “You could have asked, Molly.”

He definitely flushed at her words, illuminated by the edge of Caleb’s dome. “No- pfhaha- no fun!”

Keep reading

[lokissweater]

talk baby ⋆｡°✩

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: it’s the season of the world series!— your little life with megumi absolutely warm and loving as you spent every waking moment together, the both of you never failing to hang out or speak to one another since the very moment you two made it official. but when the higher ups start demanding more of megumi to bring the world series home, tiring him out and causing him to lose sleep? a wedge is driven between you both as megumi tells you words he wished he’d never said.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, cursing, FLUFF, ANGSTYY, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it yall), SMUT, baseball talk, megumi LOOVESS YOUU my goodness, DONINANT AF MEGUMI OBVIOUSLYYY, creampie, shower sex, DIRTY TALK megumi has a filthy mouth, megumi and reader get into a fight, it’s the world series, all characters are aged up.

word count: 12.5k (IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY-)

authors note: THE WAIT IS FINALLY OVERRR FUCK i cannot thank you all enough for the support with these series. i saw all of your AMAZING suggestions and sprinkled them all over THANK YOU!! i POURED my heart into this and i really hope you all love itttttt :,( STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT FIC OF THIS SERIES AAHHH!! I LOVE YOU MWAHHH <33

i highly highly advise you to read the first part of this fic or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find it here!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

megumi fushiguro loved how much you talked.

“—and then i went to the bakery down the street from my campus to get that one coffee cake i always get? the one you brought me after my class?”

“mhm.”

“but they were freaking out of it it’s like they knew i was coming to take their stock man. it was seven in the morning how the fuck are you out of coffee cake?”

megumi laughed softly and pressed a slow sweet kiss to your cheek, readjusting his arms around your waist as he scooched your body closer to his on his lap, the both of you on his huge black bean bag that sat in his living room as he leaned the side of his head back on your shoulder, relaxed and a little sleepy.

“so then i had to go to the one on campus, even though i already know it doesn’t taste the same…” you sighed sadly. “what if they did that on purpose? what if they want me to stop coming?”

megumi huffed an amused breath through his nose and shook his head gently against your shoulder. “don’t think so baby. i feel like you keep them in business with how much you go.”

you huffed and crossed your arms, grumbling. “yet they treat me like this...”

tilting your head down then to get a better look at him, you peeked at his sleepy face and tired eyes as he tried his absolute hardest to stay awake for you, wanting to listen to everything you had to say and more, but his eyelids drooping every couple of seconds before opening back up again just not letting him.

you smiled softly and carded your fingers through his black hair, pushing the front strands back and giving him a cute peck on his forehead.

“take a nap gumi… you’re so tired i can see it.”

“uh uh.” megumi hummed.

he lifted his head groggily and propped his chin up on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“keep going.” he murmured, his words a little slurred. “did you end up getting your coffee cake from the other bakery..?”

“i did.” you responded softly, caressing your thumb over his warm cheek as your soothing voice lulled him. “it was nasty. the end. c’mon baby you have practice tomorrow—”

“no.”

“gumi it’s late i don’t want to keep you uuupp.” you whined, nudging him.

“if you sleep over.” he mumbled.

“but i have class tomorrow.”

“i’ll take you.”

“but you always do and i feel bad…” you pinched his cheek softly. “it’s okay i can—”

“don’t care.”

you giggled. “well i do. i want you to get more sleep gumi, your practices are crazy long now and you have them like everyday—”

he groaned loudly and ushered you up, you complying as you watched him lazily stand from the bean bag and grab you, baggy eyes half lidded as he picked you up from around your legs and threw you over his shoulder— something he always did ever since the day he confessed, and something you absolutely floored over whenever he did it.

your giggles rang through his quiet and spacious apartment that made him sleepily smile as he lazily carried you down the hall and to his room, setting you softly to sit on his plush bed as he pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of your head, though nearly almost missing, him leaning back up and grabbing the hem of his black shirt— pulling it over his head and carelessly tossing it somewhere in the room before climbing into bed.

you felt so so bad. the team’s schedule was released just two weeks prior, and seeing as the world series was coming up— the most important segment of competitive games they could possibly ever have, the coaches and managers were grinding and overworking their players to pure fucking filth, them wanting to keep their streak as the number one baseball team no matter what it took.

and because of that, megumi was always so tired and stressed— holding on day by day as the higher ups demanded so much of him because he was the most skilled on the team, him spending his days trying to stay awake and make time for you— picking you up from class and taking you out to lunch like he always did, but your worried gaze always on his dark under eyes as you insisted and told him already that you understood, that he didn’t need to right now if it was over the subject of his career.

and especially if it was for the world series.

“lay down.” he murmured, patting the pillow next to him as he peeked at you with one eye open.

you stood, pulled the covers back and hopped in, megumi’s arm immediately snaking around your waist and pulling your back to his bare chest, his face nuzzling in your hair as you noticed how quickly his breathing deepened, falling asleep almost the minute you got settled in his arms and fitting like a little puzzle piece.

it had been almost an entire year since you and megumi started dating, and you have never ever been happier in your life as you thanked your lucky stars over and over again for being such a dumbass— wholly believing that if one thing had changed, it wouldn’t have played out the way that it did.

and you adored the way that it played out.

megumi was so affectionate. everyday. his love language being physical touch as he literally never left you alone and always had to be touching you in any given situation— like his hand on your thigh whenever he drove, playing with your fingers from across the table while out at a restaurant… and like now, his toned body literally engulfing you into his that it made you feel so cared for and warm and loved, something you always wanted to feel for the rest of your life as long as it was with him.

the next morning he drove you to school like he said he would, and then went straight to practice after, you telling him that you would be there once your classes were over.

and when you did get to the stadium later that day, megumi was mad.

“what the fuck happened?” you quickly sat next to your best friend on the sidelines, her snickering as you both watched megumi tell off another player for fumbling a double play on the field.

“they’re making more errors today,” your girl friend sighed. “they’re all nervous since their division series game is tomorrow and they’re getting closer to the big thing… but megumi is not having it.”

“you bobbled the ball go to first fucking base and eat it what the hell are you doing trying to—”

you gnawed at your bottom lip.

it was common for megumi to bark out orders and take charge on the field, that wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it was only here and there where he was yelling and insulting the rest of his teammates like that (mostly rarely). a sign you knew was because he was stressing the fuck out.

“what you just did was a kiddie fucking error we won’t make it to the world series like this dingus the fuck are you—”

you covered your face and groaned. “i can’t watch… i don’t think i’ve seen him like this since that one day he asked me to come here.”

“you mean the day he ate you out in—”

“shuuushhh!” your hands shot out and slapped over her mouth as she let out a muffled laugh, your eyes wide and cheeks pink as you frantically looked around to see if anybody had heard her.

she took your wrists then and pulled them away. “have you guys even had sex yet? how many times am i gonna ask you until you say yes—”

you nudged her away. “no! we haven’t yet.”

you didn’t know why you hadn’t— the topic just one that was never brought up by either of you.

but you’ve definitely done other things though.

megumi was like a dog, not knowing the meaning of ‘keep your hands to yourself’ as he was always groping your ass in public out of no where just to hear you squeak in surprise, shoving his hands down your pants and making you cum repeatedly on his fingers when you’re both innocently just watching a movie on his couch, pressing his face into your tits and sucking hickeys whenever you wore a low cut shirt, and bullying his way in between your legs to lick and devour you up whenever he felt like it— all things he did with zero hesitation nor self control.

you weren’t complaining though, definitely not— you were just as freaky.

because every time megumi wore those gray sweatpants after practices that you loved oh so very much, no shirt on with his perfect toned body out only for your eyes— your mouth was on him, licking his chest all the way down to his pelvis, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers down until all that was left before you was his mlb dick, you taking him into your mouth and sucking the absolute life out of him until he was shaking and breathlessly chanting your pretty name like a prayer—

“break!”

you pulled yourself from your thoughts and stood, your eyes already watching the way megumi walked over from across the field with his head down, chest heaving and his face glistening with sweat against the setting sun, his baseball uniform covered in dirt.

both you and your girl friend walked down the steps and towards the bullpen, you quickly grabbing a clean white hand towel from the gatorade jug rack beforehand and catching up, spotting yuji and megumi already seated inside on a bench.

upon megumi noticing you coming up, he smiled softly, tiredly.

“you guys are sucking today.” your best friend deadpanned, and you elbowed her.

“no. you guys just look really nervous… is everything okay?”

you took a seat next to megumi and silently offered the clean towel, him gently bringing up your extended wrist and pecking it in gratitude before taking the towel and wiping down his face, your cheeks flushing in response.

yuji sighed deeply and shook his head, scratching the back of his neck. “everyone’s literally losing it. we win every year but each year that comes is extra added pressure to keep that up.”

megumi nodded wordlessly in agreement, his head hung.

“well this is your first bad practice isn’t it?” you softly mentioned.

“yeah… maybe it’s just today and you guys will be okay tomorrow.” your girl friend added, smiling comfortingly at yuji, him giving her the same smile back but with apprehension in his eyes.

“would’ve been fine if it was yesterday.” megumi cut in, voice monotone. “not today. not when it’s the last leg for the world series.”

he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms with closed eyes, yuji nodding next to him.

you pulled your lips into a thin line, heavy anxiety brewing in your chest at the thought of them possibly losing before even getting into the league championships, something their team has never done before as they’ve always just gone straight through.

in order to get through to the world series, their team has to win the division series and the league championships, then they earn their rightful shining spot of playing in the world series and winning— something megumi has been a part of for almost three years now, and something the team has dominated over for five consecutive years straight.

but what if this year was different?

“how are you feeling?” you gently asked megumi after a bit. “i saw you were a little mad today on the field…”

he slowly pried his eyes open and looked at you, sighing softly through his nose.

“m’fine pretty baby.” he murmured. “they’re just not playing like they should be.”

megumi took his cap off and scratched the side of his head, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “and neither am i to be honest.”

your eyes softened.

“what do you mean?”

“m’just not meeting the standards i set for myself.”

“but you play well in every game gumi..” you mumbled. “don’t overwork yourself please. just keep doing what you’ve been doing… it’s been going great so far, hasn’t it?”

he gave you a little smile and lazily reached up to delicately caress and run the ends of your hair through his fingers. “i need to amp it up though. i need to try harder.”

“try harder when you’re already winning?” you quirked a confused brow.

he nodded.

“what’s the reason behind that?”

megumi gave you a sly smile. “because you’ll be watching me.”

you gawked, shaking your head at him. “gumi, you know anything that you do makes me freak out and it’s embarrassing...” you subconsciously tugged a bit at the sides of his jersey. “the way you tied my shoes for me the other day made me freak out. the way you pumped my gas last week made me freak out. the way you stuck your fingers inside my pu—”

his eyes bulged open as he shot forward and muffled you with a kiss, you kissing him back and laughing cutely once he pulled away.

“nasty mouth…” he mumbled, but the little grin on his face made you giggle as he put his cap back on over his head and nudged it down, trying to conceal his eyes and the blushing of his cheeks— but you catching on anyways.

“how was class?” he asked quietly, readjusting his cap. “did you get your coffee cake after i dropped you off?”

you shook your head. “no because i’d rather die than get the one on campus. they need to close that place down.”

megumi snorted, but his eyebrows pinched momentarily as he took your hand in his and started playing with your fingers. “you should’ve told me. i would’ve drove you to the one you like.”

“no gumi i wasn’t gonna make you do that... i wanted you to sleep in as much as possible.”

“i’ll take you after practice.”

“no! you need to nap after don’t waste time—”

“m’not wasting time.” he replied, but before you could get another word in, his coach called all players back on field.

“i’ll see you after.” he stood and pecked your forehead. “i love you pretty baby.”

you smiled shyly, your cheeks a cute pink.

“i love you too.”

thankfully, megumi didn’t seem as pissed off for the rest of practice, and you hoped it was because of the little chat you had with him in the bullpen prior and that it cheered him up in some way— the team playing a lot better and actually working together this time instead of being at each others throats over feeble mistakes.

and when they were all finally back at the locker rooms packed up and ready to go, you organized his clean uniform for tomorrow and hung his gloves neatly inside his locker, closing it once you were done.

“you don’t have to do that baby.” he murmured, gesturing to his locker as he swung his duffel bag over his shoulder and extended a hand. “organize. i can do that.”

“but i like doing it...” you took his offering hand and interlaced your fingers with his. “it helps you find things quicker.”

you both stepped out, quickly bidding your girl friend and yuji goodbye on the way as you walked down the echoey hallway together.

“—you also don’t have to drive me to school every morning but you do that anyways.”

he smiled. “touché.”

he led you out of the arena and over to the private parking area for players and crew— him opening the passenger side door for you to step inside and shutting it after, throwing his duffel bag to the back once he got in the drivers seat.

and like he always did, megumi buckled you up himself, grabbing the seat belt strap and pulling it over you to click on the other side with a kiss to your cheek— him never letting you do it yourself since the day you two properly met.

“do they sell food at the bakery?” he looked over at you as he pulled out. “they do don’t they.”

“they do!” you nodded sweetly. “but we’re not going.”

“why.”

“because you need to sleep—”

“no.”

“megumi—”

he shot you a glare and you squeaked.

“gumi! i-i meant gumi!”

he fixed his glare and broke out into a small smile instead, laughing lightly as he set his big hand over your thigh and squeezed lovingly.

you giggled softly.

“lunch first and then i’ll sleep.”

“oh my—”

you reached over for the door handle and pulled, brows furrowing once the lock wouldn’t budge after multiple frantic tries.

“you still have child lock on?!”

megumi shielded his mouth to hide his snicker, eyes to the road.

“uh huh.”

“why?!”

he gave you a deadpanned look and pointed to the door. “exhibit a, baby. the car is moving.”

“gumi if you hate me just say that.”

pulling into the bakery’s parking lot, he playfully rolled his eyes at your comment and pinched your cheek gently.

“be quiet.”

the bakery was a cute little place that was a frequent pit stop for the both of you to pick up breakfast on the way to the things you had to do in the mornings— always cozy and warm and filled with little trinkets and postcards of places from around the world, you always gushing when you or megumi would spot a new souvenir on the walls or on the shelves, and him sometimes having to stop you from snatching some for yourself…

“they have a million!” you whispered. “they won’t notice this one. please it’s from greece it’ll look cute on my fridge!”

megumi sipped his lemonade and gave you a half lidded look as you both sat in a booth.

“i don’t know if anyone has ever told you this but.” he gently slid the coffee cake closer to you, silently ushering you to eat. “that’s called stealing.”

“not if they don’t notice.”

megumi gave you an amused smile.

“i’ll take one for you too!”

“for me?”

“yeah!” you put your elbow on the table and propped your chin on your palm, tilting your head with the cutest expression megumi has ever seen in his fucking life.

“i’d do anything for you.”

his cheeks flooded pink, and he swallowed thickly.

megumi would do anything for you.

“i appreciate that pretty baby,” he murmured, tenderly tracing the pad of his index finger mindlessly around the back of your hand.

“great! so can i do it?”

“no.”

“maaannnn!” you slumped over the table and pouted. “you’re no fun.”

he chuckled and took a bite out of his ham and cheese deli, your mannerisms sometimes reminding him of his dad.

he swallowed.

“gojo wants to meet you.”

you froze. “really? he does?”

megumi nodded.

“okay! that’s okay— wait no! wait—” you groaned and leaned against the booth. “i don’t think he’s gonna like me very much…”

“huh?” his eyebrows furrowed. “why do you say that?”

you peered up at him sheepishly. “because i talk too much… i’m not gonna notice and end up telling him my lore, my school gpa, and my social security number.”

megumi laughed, and your heart fluttered at the sight of his crinkling eyes and gorgeous smile, the sound of it making you swoon.

he shook his head and rubbed his sleepy eyelids. “no baby... he’d love you. i know he would.”

“i don’t know gumi…” you sighed, looking down at your lap. “i want to meet him of course! that’s a given… but..”

megumi quirked a brow. “but?”

“i just don’t want to look stupid…” you laughed nervously. “it’s happened before where my friends parents say i’m a blabber mouth and i don’t want to embarrass you—”

his tired eyes narrowed. “blabber mouth? who’s saying you’re a blabber mouth?”

“my— my ex boyfriend in high school…” you cowered a little. “but it’s okay because i was over sharing!—”

“no.” he said firmly, his gaze looking directly into yours. “you’re not a blabbermouth. there’s a difference between being really open and friendly with people right off the bat and being a blabbermouth.”

megumi shook his head in annoyance. how could someone ever say you were a blabbermouth? he had never heard something that was so far from the truth.

you were too sweet for your own good, that was your only fault. you considered everyone you met a close friend of yours and weren’t afraid to tell them whatever came to your precious mind and made them feel welcome— something that megumi adored so much about you… so much, and something that made him borderline violent when people berated you for it.

“they just can’t handle it when someone is actually genuine. like you. and that’s not your fault.”

the shiniest smile grew on your face then, your eyes sparkling and feeling like a million fucking butterflies were fluttering all over your tummy— internally screaming at his words.

“thank you gumi…” you spoke softly. “i’m glad at least you don’t see an issue with it.”

“i don’t.” he shook his head. “i don’t at all.”

he loved it.

the rest of your lunch date was spent with megumi still not letting you steal the greece trinket magnet from the wall, you scolding him for the bags under his eyes, and him buying you two more slices of coffee cake to go no matter how many times you told him it was okay, the both of you gathering your things and going back to his car after a bit for him to drop you off back home.

“i’ll be here in the morning to take you to class.” he said gently, turning the corner and nearing your street.

“what? isn’t the division series game tomorrow?” you asked, taken aback. “gumi no just get as much sleep as you can it’s a big day. i can take myself.”

he looked at you boredly.

“no.”

“guumiii!”

he pulled into your driveway and shifted his gear into park, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a little goofy grin.

“i can take you baby it’s fine,” he pushed gently. “don’t worry.”

“you’ve been stressed though… and tired.”

you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in as he immediately leaned in and tucked his face into your neck, breathing in your honeyed perfume and letting himself slump into your soft frame.

“please promise me that after the division series, you’ll rest up like crazy before the league championships.” he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes nearly closing as he sleepily blinked. “okay?”

“league championships? didn’t know we already won.” he murmured.

you giggled. “obviously. you’re my cool baseball man, are you not?”

he tiredly grinned and pressed a sweet sweet kiss to your cheek, him biting down on it after and making you yelp before snickering and pulling away.

“bye gumi,” you quickly grabbed a slice of coffee cake and placed it on his leg. “here eat this on the way home so you don’t fall asleep.”

he chuckled and watched as you grabbed your things, hopped out, and ran across the front of his car, leaning your head in through his open window once you reached him and pressing your soft lips to his, megumi fucking melting at the feeling.

you pulled apart and he pecked you one last time— a series of i love you’s iterated before you backed away and waved excitedly from your front door, him waiting until you were inside to reverse, his engine roaring and his black car shining against the moonlight as he sped down the street.

the next morning you got up around the time that you usually did, showered and did your hair and got ready for class, packed your school bag and made your bed—

but megumi hadn’t texted you. like at all.

he usually sent you a good morning text, followed by him letting you know when he was leaving the house, followed by when he was on his way, and followed by when he was just down the street and pulling up.

except you got nothing.

you figured maybe today was just one of those days where he maybe just simply forgot and was already on his way, but as you stood literally outside of your house, gnawing on your thumb and the time coming painfully close to the start of your morning class as you still got nothing from megumi (even when you had texted him multiple times at this point), you started shitting it.

just as you were about to run inside to get the keys to your car, your phone buzzed as a picture of you and megumi flashed across the screen.

megumi!

“hel—”

“baby!—” he breathed out, frantic. “baby i’m sorry i’m so sorry i’m coming okay im down the street—”

“what happened?” you breathed out worriedly, your heart hammering against your chest.

“i overslept!—” he explained quickly. “i’m late to the team’s call time and— and you’re late to class and i— fuck!”

you heard his horn blare and his tires screech as muffled curses flew from his mouth, you jumping at the noise.

“sorry sorry someone cut me off i’m almost there—”

“no gumi go straight to the stadium you’re late!” you spoke firmly. “i can take myself—”

“no but i wanted to see you before the game—”

“it’s fine we can see each other after the game okay? when you win—” you grabbed your keys from the coffee table by your door and ran out, unlocking your car and getting in. “you’re late baby so fucking late please turn back this isn’t good coach is gonna chew you out—”

“shit! i know i know—”

“go gumi hang up it’s okay!”

“okay.. fuck okay okay—”

you heard rustling on the other line before he spoke again.

“i love you i’m sorry ill see you after!”

and the line went dead.

you slugged through the rest of your classes as the day felt way fucking longer than it normally did, you desperately just wanting to see megumi and know that he was okay, that he wasn’t in trouble with his coach and the management team for being over an hour late to the division series call time, you on the verge of literal tears multiple times over him.

your best friend and you had planned to get ready for the game together and sport your men’s jerseys from the stands— a girl’s night you were agonizingly looking forward to all freaking month, and so so excited that the day was finally here to support and be present for the making of yet another year for the boys’ team.

“and then he hung up. i thought he was gonna get into a wreck man—”

you ran your fingers through your styled hair in your vanity mirror, your best friend readjusting her jersey behind you— ‘itadori’ in big capital letters on the back.

“megumi is the most hard headed mean stubborn man i have ever come across in my life.” she searched around in her makeup bag, pulling out her lip liner and reapplying next to you. “i don’t know how many times you told him to sleep and get some rest. and yuji too! he hasn’t stopped talking about him since the schedule change and now i’m starting to think he’s in love with him.”

you laughed loudly.

“i know…” you sighed anxiously through your nose, nervous clammy jitters in your chest. “his eye bags have gotten so bad this past week.”

“i think it’s because he’s been practicing over time.”

you stopped.

“what do you mean?”

she looked at you quizzically. “i thought you knew? yuji told me that the higher ups had a meeting with megumi and told him that they were expecting him to bring the world series home.”

she popped the lid back on her lip liner and threw it in her bag. “he practices all night on the field until like four am.”

“what the fuck?” your eyes narrowed. “he never told me that? he picks me up for my seven am class everyday… that means he’s only been getting what— like two and a half hours of sleep this past week?”

she stopped. “he didn’t tell you?”

“no!” you exclaimed. “when was this meeting?”

“at the start of last week.”

“oh my god.” you grumbled.

why didn’t he tell you?

“that’s fucked up.” she shook her head. “talk to him about that after babe… i don’t know why this man didn’t tell you something like that.”

“i would’ve never let him pick me up for class if i knew this was going on…” you gloomily fiddled with the buttons on your jersey. “or hang out with me after practice.”

and why the hell were the higher ups demanding so much from megumi? why were they burning him out with a responsibility so huge as to ensuring the success of the team for the world series? that wasn’t fair to him. that wasn’t fair at all.

your girl friend hugged you comfortingly.

“it’s fine don’t worry about it okay?… just talk to him after.”

once at the stadium, you and your best friend squeezed and pushed through the crowd to get to the v.i.p. section, the both of you sweating and panting over having run across the stadium’s parking lot and the main area, all because your best friend couldn’t decide which way to do her hair, and because you couldn’t decide if you should wear a skirt or jeans.

you ended up choosing for each other and calling it a day.

“hey! you guys!”

you both snapped your heads up and you recognized the source of the voice as one of the assistant crew members of the team, jogging up to you guys with two devices in his hands.

“you guys want these radios or are you good? they’re connected to the announcers and have earbuds!”

“oh i’ll take one! thank you!” you answered politely, smiling as he passed you and your best friend a radio.

you pushed the earbud into your left ear and sat.

the crowd was buzzing and cheering with excitement, flashes of light shimmering throughout the sold out stadium as many held up posters and signs or bobble heads, you smiling wide every time you spotted a few of megumi’s face and name.

the air was warm, and every kind of news reporter, publicist, and journalist was present on the sidelines as they filmed and interviewed several players from the opposing team.

“let’s play ball!”

the crowed roared, claps and whistles ringing through the air as yuji walked out from the dugout, the both of you screaming as the rest of the team followed suit, your shoulders evidently relaxing at the sight of megumi jogging out into position looking absolutely jaw dropping in his clean cut uniform and cap, serious and focused.

as the game ensued, it was no surprise that the boys’ team was absolutely demolishing the opposing players, megumi doing fucking stellar out on the field as he caught ball after ball with his glove, the announcers commentary certainly helping with explaining the context of the game due to your lack of knowledge, but you trying your hardest anyways to understand on your own.

and finally after a while of switching sides and megumi hitting like a greek god, the teams switched sides what seemed like the final time since it was almost the nine inning, his turn to hit.

“walking up to base now… number eighteen— megumi fushiguro!”

the crowd went fucking insane as he walked up, you immediately standing and screaming over the railing as he took his position up there— swinging soft faux hits before properly adjusting his footing on the loose dirt, fans waving around their fushiguro banners or his baseball cards as he settled.

the bags under his eyes…

you gnawed anxiously at your bottom lip. his team was so close to moving on to the league championships…

“and the pitcher throws….”

hit!

“strike one!”

megumi screwed his eyes shut and grimaced, shaking his head furiously as he shook the nerves from his body and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

“oh!” the announcers groaned. “looks like megumi fushiguro missed a hit for the first time in history!”

for the first time?

you whipped your head around to face your girl friend. “for the first time?”

she looked at you with the same terrorized expression.

“fuck i knew he always hit but i didn’t know he never missed…” you whined worriedly. “he’s exhausted man i can see it look—”

megumi’s footing slightly slipped from the dirt as he positioned himself, getting ready for the next swing.

“and the pitcher throws again…”

hit!

“strike two!”

“fuck!” megumi roared, walking off the home plate and chucking his bat to the wall— the wood flying and clattering as it hit the ground, your eyes widening in horror.

“woah looks like fushiguro got another strike and.. needs to take a breather off the field..?”

“if megumi doesn’t get this next hit, they’re done!” your girl friend shook her head, eyes wide and afraid. “the other team is gonna take it!”

you ran your fingers through your hair exasperatedly, frantically looking at the scoreboard and back at megumi who was pacing a little off the plate with his head down, his hands on his hips.

“fushiguro!” you spotted yuji yelling from the dugout. “get back on the plate! we could get flagged!”

megumi’s chest heaved as he picked up his bat and wiped off the dirt, walking back over to the home plate and repositioning himself.

cameras flashed and recorded as he tried to get back into focus, news reporters talking their asses off and journalists scribbling god knows what— as they just earned themselves their biggest headline of the season.

megumi fushiguro missed his first hit in playing history.

“and the pitcher throws…”

hit!

“oh there it goes! looks like a fair ball!”

the crowd rallies as megumi books it over the first two bases, everyone watching as the ball hits over the outfield fence as he fucking dashes across the remaining two bases like nothing, earning himself a home run—

and scoring a spot in the league championship games for his team.

you and your best friend jump for complete joy, throwing your arms around each other and swaying as fans all around you celebrated and cheered just like the both of you, you happily watching the players from the dugout run up and engulf megumi in a group hug, jumping and laughing.

as the crowd began to disperse and take leave, you both quickly ran down the steps and to the field, you immediately spotting megumi and running up to him with your arms out.

“gumi!”

he noticed you and extended his arms, but his face read nothing as you jumped into them.

“good job good job! you did so amazing!”

“nice fushiguro!” yuji nudged his shoulder. “you brought us through!”

“i missed the first two hits.”

he set you back down.

yuji shrugged. “so? it happens. i do it all the time! you made a home run and scored us the league.”

megumi only silently nodded, his face to the ground as you told yuji and your best friend that you would see them in the locker rooms with everybody else.

and once everyone had cleared out from the field, you turned to him.

“hey…” you started. “what’s wrong?”

his eyes remained glued to the dirt.

“i missed the first two hits.”

your shoulders deflated. “you heard what yuji said… it’s okay. it was bound to happen but it’s fine because you fixed it—”

“we were on thin fucking ice today.”

his snippy tone took you by surprise a bit.

“yes… but you made it...” you responded softly. “you all pulled through. especially you.”

he scoffed and shook his head, him finally raising his baggy eyes and looking to the side, pissed.

“i almost cost us the league. that’s what i did.”

“gumi—” you exhaled a frustrated breath. “you literally played like a machine the entire time and had other hits that were amazing? i don’t understand why two little strikes—”

his eyes snapped to yours. “two little strikes?” he shook his head again. “two strikes too fucking many.”

“what is your issue?—”

“my issue is that if i fucked up that third hit it would’ve been all over. we would’ve lost the division, lost the league, and lost the world series, all because i don’t know how to fucking play ball—”

“yes you do! you’re being way too hard on yourself baby you need to take a breather and rest—”

“how many times have you nagged me about that already.” he spat.

you froze.

“nagged?” you repeated softly.

“yes. you’ve told me enough times i get it i need rest, i need sleep, i need this i need that—”

“i’m saying that because look at you!” you motioned with your hands, feeling potential tears prickling at the back of your eyes at the way he was speaking to you. “your under eyes are dark and purple, your eyes are red you look exhausted!”

“and i told you i’m fine!” he raised his voice a bit. “you wouldn’t understand the shit that i have to do for this team the shit i have to pull and i gave them absolute garbage today—”

“oh my god megumi!” you snapped. “your team is a team effort! it’s not just you! you’re not the only one pulling the stops so enough with trying to take on this load and overwork yourself! please you played amazing today everyone was cheering so loud for you and—”

“stop talking.”

you paused.

“just—” he rubbed his tired eyes and turned to the side. “just please stop talking.”

stop… talking?

he struck a chord, and you felt your heart literally break at his words, an aching heavy pit in your chest as you recounted his yelling and snappiness when all you were trying to do was help him.

thats all you’ve ever tried to do for megumi really— help him, support him, and love him. but for him to throw it all back in your face and say you didn’t understand? for you to basically shut up?

tears were slipping past your eyes at this point, and when you felt like megumi finally bothered to look at you in the face, his eyes widened and his shoulders dropped.

“baby—”

“and what about you?”

he stopped. “about me—”

“yes about you. you’re saying i don’t understand anything you’re fucking going through, as if i haven’t followed you through your career since the moment we met and before that, like i haven’t supported you on the sidelines and asked you question after question about your games just so i can fucking understand—”

“no i—”

you cut him off. “and then you’re here— yelling at me, telling me off, and telling me to shut up when i’m the only one fucking standing here with you after the game trying to be there for you?!—”

“baby— fuck i’m sorry okay i didn’t mean—”

you laughed bitterly. “you didn’t mean it. didn’t mean what? to accidentally let it slip that you actually do think i’m a blabbermouth?”

he was taken aback as his eyebrows furrowed, shaking his head desperately. “no— no that’s not what i meant at all y/n i’m sorry. i’ve been so stressed and tired and i’m taking it all out on you right now and— and that’s not okay and not an excuse.”

megumi quickly stepped forward and placed his hands on your face, but you pushed him away, hurt flashing across his eyes as you did so.

“and why didn’t you tell me about the meeting huh? the one with the higher ups last week?”

surprise crossed his face. “how did you—”

“doesn’t matter how i heard it. why didn’t you tell me? do you understand how that makes me feel when i have to find out through someone else and not my own boyfriend?”

he ran a hand through his spiky black hair and sighed exhaustedly.

“i didn’t tell you because i knew you would be upset about it and i didn’t want you to worry—”

“so you just chose to keep it from me that’s real nice.” you spat. “of course i wouldn’t be happy with it they’re stripping you down and exploiting you! how could they say that it’s all on you to bring it home for the world series? do you understand how insane that sounds?”

“i know but i can’t tell them anything i just have to say yes!” he explained.

“you have every right to tell them something! and if you would’ve communicated this with me like you should’ve done, i wouldn’t have let you lose so much sleep over me and maybe you wouldn’t have played the way you think you played, and you wouldn’t be standing here shitting all over me!”

he really struck a chord.

“y/n—”

“bye megumi.”

his breath hitched.

“no— hey don’t do that—”

he scrambled after you as you made your way out of the field, him quickly catching up and tugging you into him with his long arms around your shoulders, bringing your back to his front as he ducked his face down.

“let’s fix it please we need to fix this—”

“i want to be alone right now, megumi.” you mumbled.

god he hated how many times you’ve called him that already tonight, feeling like the biggest asshole to ever grace your precious life.

“no i don’t want you to be upset with me please—”

“we can talk later on the phone.” your tone was lifeless. “i just need to be alone.”

he faltered, feeling gutting pain cascade all over his body as he hesitantly, slowly, slipped his arms away and released you.

“o—okay.”

he watched you walk up the stands and to the exit as you clutched yourself, his eyes catching the back of your jersey reading his last name that sent an immediate pang through his chest, your frame disappearing from his view and leaving him in his stupid thoughts as he snatched his cap off from his head and threw it to the side in frustration.

that night megumi tried to call you but you didn’t pick up, you barely even answering his texts as he wallowed in self pity alone in his apartment.

and you hadn’t stopped crying since the moment your tears hit on the field— hurt and exhausted and guilty as you settled into bed, unable to bring yourself to call him and go through with your word, deciding to text instead.

(you): i’m really tired i’m sorry. i’ll see if i can call you in the morning.

megumi took no time at all to respond.

(gumi <3): can i take you to class tomorrow?

(you): i don’t think that’s a good idea

he swallowed the lump in his throat and fought back the urge to fight it, wanting to respect you and your space.

but you only kept crying.

(gumi <3): okay

(you): goodnight

(gumi <3): goodnight pretty baby

just as you were about to place your phone back on your nightstand, it buzzed again.

(gumi <3): i love you i’m sorry

you sniffled and put your phone away officially, choosing not to respond.

the following week leading up to the league championship game, megumi spent every waking moment trying to make it up to you, trying to fix it, but you only seemed to stay away from him and distance yourself, something that hurt megumi like no other.

you felt like it was your fault he played the way he did that day. if you had been smarter, more mindful, you would’ve noticed that the intensity of his exhaustion was extremely abnormal, and perhaps you could’ve done something about it before it was too late and saved yourself the dreadful fight you had with him.

you hated the way you spoke to him, and you fully convinced yourself that you only served as a distraction for him, opting to keeping your distance as far away as possible so it allowed megumi to get his head focused again and ensure a promised route to the world series— something you had hoped to be there to witness, but deeming his success way more important than your needs at this point in time.

so you stopped going to all of his practices following that day, the fact tormenting megumi as you always went to each and every single one and was there for him without fault— rain or shine, always waiting for him in the locker rooms when he was finished.

but you weren’t there anymore. and each day you weren’t was another day megumi would spend angry and frustrated with himself that he did what he did. he knew your defense mechanism was pushing people away, and your current behavior gave him flashbacks to the time last year when he was falling for you and you kept running away from him, scared— those actions a carbon copy of what’s happening now, except far worse.

and he did that to you. he yelled at you and snapped at you, told you to stop talking for some fucking reason that he still couldn’t find the proper explanation for… and he made you cry. so much. your usual sweet honeyed voice you spoke to him with long gone since that day.

and he missed you. more than anything.

“you stupid—” throw “self absorbed—” throw “asshole—” throw “narcissistic—” throw—

“okay that’s enough that’s enough!”

yuji pulled your best friend back as she chucked towel after towel at megumi following one of their practices, her absolutely fuming.

he took every hit, not bothering to dodge. he deserved it.

“she told me what you did—” she shook herself away from yuji’s grip. “what the hell is the matter with you? how could you yell at her like that on the field? when all she’s ever done is love you—”

“i know.” megumi mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “i know i’m really sorry. i regret it.”

“fuck yeah you should,” she scoffed. “that woman’s been cooped up every day in her room bawling her eyes out over you!”

yuji nodded sadly, and megumi let out a pained breath as he closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands, propping his elbows on his knees, leaning forward.

“fuck me…”

“yeah fuck you—”

“okay! okay. he’s already down let him bleed out.” yuji muttered to her as he rubbed his hands over her arms soothingly, an attempt at calming her down.

he looked at him. “megumi, you and i both know that she understands you were frustrated that day. the both of you. if you just talk to her—”

“you think i haven’t tried?” megumi picked his head up, and the both of them froze at the way his eyes glossed over.

“i’ve— i’ve called her, i’ve texted her, i drove by her house but she’s never there, fuck i even went to her campus at seven in the morning but couldn’t find her.”

he took his cap off and roughly rubbed over his eyes again.

your best friend sighed then after a moment, slowly stepping forward and sitting down next to him on the bench.

“she’ll come around megumi.” she mumbled. “just give her some time. i know it’s hard, but she really really loves you.” she sighed deeply. “she’ll come around.”

megumi nodded solemnly, and yuji stepped forward, patting his shoulder.

“you okay man?”

he nodded again.

missed phone calls, lagging dry texts, and last minute cancellations from you all happened for a week straight.

and when the time finally came for the league championships, megumi wanted nothing more than for you to be there as he stared at his messy fucking locker when prepping for the game— another reminder that you hadn’t been around, and another reminder that you wouldn’t be here tonight to see him, something he completely did not blame you for.

luckily, the league championship game was at their home base once more, and as the crowd got settled to watch, energies heightened as the players all got settled over the field to play ball— megumi shook the nerves from his body as he focused with the game, and you, on his mind like a religion.

and as the game ran on with the team scoring run after run, another win was blatantly obvious for them— megumi entirely unaware of your presence that was watching him the entire time in the stands.

you couldn’t help yourself. you needed to be there to watch him, needed to see him take home another achievement like that, regardless of where you both stood as you watched from just above the v.i.p section, shivering like an idiot because you forgot to bring a jacket after deciding to wear a flowy tube top for the day, but excited for him nonetheless.

you didn’t tell a single soul you were coming, not even your best friend as you just wanted to see megumi again before running off into the shadows of your embarrassing despair, missing him like fucking crazy and nearly sobbing when you saw him walk out on the field at the start, but even more emotional to the fact that they were actually going to move on to the world series by the looks of it.

and the crowd hollered eventually as the speakers blasted megumi’s teams signature song—

finalizing their spot in the world series.

your eyes glowed as you watched his team run up on the field and tackle each other down, literally rolling in the dirt as you giggled to yourself— sighing contently and about to turn and walk out of the stadium to go home when a strong rough hand wrapped around your bare upper arm.

“you’re fushiguro’s girl! aren’t you?”

you snapped your head up and saw someone you recognized as one of megumi’s crew members for the team, and you relaxed, trusting him.

“oh! yeah i am!”

“sweet! i just got hired to be on the crew a couple of weeks ago.”

“that’s great!” you answered politely, smiling. “how is—”

“listen i was wondering if i could get any tickets to the world series from you?”

what.

“um—” your eyes darted around awkwardly. “for— for the world series?—”

“yeah! i took this job so i could get some but apparently i need to be working longer than three weeks. dumb.”

you gnawed at the inside of your cheek as your eyes drifted downward to your arm.

he still hadn’t let go.

“oh i’m sorry.” you mumbled. “i could— i could maybe get you one? one for sure!”

he shook his head. “shit sorry, i need like five.”

“five?!” you gawked. “i can’t get you five i’m really sorry… i can only maybe get you one.”

his eyes narrowed. “why not? you’re fushiguro’s girl are you not?”

“yes but what does that have to do with me getting you tickets to the world series?” you spoke nervously, trying to put on a brave front as his height literally towered over you.

“why don’t you ask him for tickets? he’s literally megumi fushiguro i’m sure he can cough up some—”

you scoffed.

“i’m not gonna ask him anything for you just because you want to use me to get tick—”

“so then what the fuck are you with him for?” his grip tightened around your arm as he pulled you a little, and you winced.

“let go of me!—”

megumi considered himself a relatively calm person throughout his life.

he knew he had his explosive rude moments here and there, him also accidentally offending people unknowingly with his words, but that behavior only stayed on the field as it pertained to the game at hand or with baseball itself, his life outside of that a treasured tranquil one as he spent his days with you and only you, something he looked forward to every waking moment since the day he met you.

but as he heard your little voice through the yelling of the crowd, instantly recognizing it and picking up on its distressed demeanor— his body did a full one-eighty as his eyes frantically searched for you through the mass of people.

and once he did spot you? your breathtaking little self being manhandled by some fucking moron who had his hand around your upper arm?

he didn’t consider himself a relatively calm person anymore.

megumi quickly snatched his cap off and passed it to a confused yuji and your best friend, sprinting at the speed of light across the field and to the fence of the v.i.p. section before hoisting himself up and climbing, jumping over once he reached the top and landing on the stands— him running up a few steps before finally reaching you and tearing the guy off.

“get the fuck off.”

he gently pushed you behind him, his chest heaving.

“the shit are you doing hurting her arm like that for huh?!” megumi stepped forward.

“hey! hey i’m sorry man i— i didn’t know i was hurting her—”

“sure you fucking did she was literally telling you to let go and you were throwing her around like—”

“megumi please—”

“are you part of the crew?”

“y—yeah?”

“you’re gone. you’re fired you’re—”

“wait i’m sorry! i was just trying to get tickets to the world series—”

megumi’s eyes blew open, wild and infuriated.

“that’s why you were grabbing her like that? you were harrassing her for some fucking ticke— you know what—”

megumi stepped forward before you could stop him as he reeled his fist back and knocked him straight in the jaw, the guy stumbling back a bit and the crowd gasping before megumi spun around and grabbed your legs, throwing you over his shoulder.

“get the fuck out of my way.”

the small crowd that stuck around for the altercation parted with no questions asked, his long legs striding over across the exit and to the teams now vacant locker room— kicking the door open before gently setting you down on your feet.

he ran his hands over your soft hair frantically as he grabbed your cheeks and checked you over, your teary doe eyes breaking him apart.

“hey are you okay? are you fine?”

megumi let go of your face and gently lifted your upper arm, his eyes hardening at the purple forming bruise from that dickwads hand.

“he’s gone he’s gone—”

you lunged and wrapped your arms around his waist tightly as he started to charge back out, pulling him back.

“no! stop it’s okay you already hit him i think he got the message.” you mumbled, letting him go.

megumi turned to you then, his eyes softening over your timid sad frame as you played with your fingers, gaze down.

“y/n.”

“hm?”

he frowned.

“can you please look at me.”

you listened reluctantly and peered up at him.

he exhaled. “baby i— i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry for everything that i said to you that night. i meant none of it. nothing. i was just angry at myself and stressed and stupid and i hate that i talked to you like that and took it out on you. you didn’t deserve that at all.”

you hurriedly wiped your silent tears— nodding, but saying nothing.

he leaned down to look at you at eye level.

“are you okay?”

you nodded again and sniffled.

“talk baby.” he pleaded with you gently, eyes sad. “tell me, please.”

you cowered a little as you finally broke into tiny sobs, your hands hovering over your face to hide your tears as he placed his big hands on your upper arms, megumi feeling like he just got run over by an entire military tank at the sight of you crying because of him.

“i—i’m sorry i yelled at you—” you hiccuped. “i was so mean and i f—feel really bad—”

“baby why are you apologizing?” he shook his head. “it’s me it’s all me i’m the one who was mean to you—”

“no but—” you sniffled. “you were just stressed from the game like you said and that’s fine i should’ve been more aware. i didn’t mean to upset you with me talking—”

“oh pretty baby..” he breathed out, agonizingly, megumi literally beating himself up. “remember when i said one time you were too nice for your own good?”

you nodded.

“this is one of those moments. you should be yelling at me and throwing things at me like your best friend did.”

your eyebrows furrowed as you sniffled. “she— she did?”

“she did.” he nodded. “rightfully so.”

you giggled a little, and he smiled softly.

“i’m sorry i distanced myself the way i did…” you mumbled, a waterfall of tears coming down again. “i just thought that i was a distraction and— and i wanted you to focus.”

“a distraction?” he murmured. “y/n you are never a distraction.”

“no but at the end of the day i was…” you sobbed. “you need to be there for your team you have—“ hic! “you have responsibilities and i don’t want you to put me above that and— and keep hanging out with me when you have so much to do—”

“something you need to understand is that i’m replaceable.” he cut you off, tone firm. “the minute they find some other dude that’s way better than me and quicker than me and they draft his ass over to the team? they are going to replace me faster than you will ever think. that’s just the way jobs are. i’m replaceable no matter how much you wanna think it’s not true.”

he shook his head, his face pained. “but you are not. you’re not fucking replaceable there is no other you. you are my life now baby. yes my career is a priority, but so are you, and i would rather them replace me than lose you entirely.”

he wiped the tears from your cheeks, your doe eyes wide.

“i appreciate that you care so much and you support me and that you want me to devote all of my time to only this— you’re an angel on earth for all of that… but as your man i’m telling you that all of my time is devoted to you now, not just baseball.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer to you, tight, him immediately reciprocating and snaking his arms around your waist.

he could finally breathe.

“do you understand?” he murmured softly, rubbing his hands over your back soothingly.

you nodded.

“but you can’t— wear yourself out like you did okay?” you sniffled. “you can’t let them push you and tire you out… and please listen when we say for you to rest…”

“i know i’m sorry. i’ll listen next time baby i promise.”

“i get you trying to improve for yourself and push your limits… but— but there’s a difference between wanting to better your play and straight up wearing yourself down.”

you pulled back a little to look at him, wiping your tears and hiccuping. “and i worry man… i worry so much because i—“ hic! “i love you and i always think about if you’re eating right or— or getting enough sleep—”

his heart literally melted as he felt the remains of it ooze and spread all over his body and insides, your pure sweet concerns tugging at him and turning him into absolute putty before you.

he tightened his grip around your waist and lifted you, gently rocking your bodies as you sniffled and cried, his eyes screwed shut and feeling every possible emotion a human being could ever feel… but feeling love most of all.

love for you. love for who you are.

megumi kissed your wet cheek delicately and let his lips linger there as he spoke.

“i’m in love with you…” he murmured. “i hope you know that.”

your heart fluttered and you nodded, a little smile playing at your face.

“i’m in love with you too gumi.” you hummed, pressing a sweet kiss of your own to his cheek.

he set you back down and cupped your cheeks, slowly leaning in and pressing light tender kisses to your lips, his mouth completely savoring over the taste of yours as he had been deprived of them for a freaking week— feeling like his dried up soul had been rejuvenated and made anew.

and you felt the same way… because you deepened the kiss, picked up the pace, pulled him closer until his chest was flush against yours and your hot breaths were mixed together in a misty cloud, megumi breathing heavily through his nose as he ran his needy desperate hands over your delicious body.

he trailed wet open mouthed kisses on your cheek, jaw, and all the way down to the side of your exposed neck, his hand supporting the other side as he feverishly licked a slow long stripe of spit up your neck with his rough tongue, your fists gripping the sides of his jersey as he nibbled and bit, his lips finally coming to enclose and suck around a certain spot as your breath hitched at how frenzied and sloppy he was being, drool practically running down your neck as he ravished, bit, and sucked over multiple areas.

you shoved your hands down his pants suddenly, and he choked in surprise as his hips thrusted forward, your fingers pumping and palming his hardened cock slowly as his breath shuddered against your neck.

“baby...” he murmured.

“hm?”

“how would you feel if i turned on the shower and fucked my cock in your pretty little cunt for a bit in there huh?…”

a needy whimper slipped past your lips against his ear, and he grew weak.

“is that okay—”

“more than okay—”

you squealed as he wasted no time in picking you up again and walking over to the showers, the both of you clumsily tearing off your clothes as megumi fumbled with the shower switch until luke warm water spritzed from above— entrapping the both of you in a humid trance as megumi squeezed your bare thighs and ushered you to jump, you doing so immediately and wrapping your legs around his waist.

he stepped in and literally slammed the shower door shut, the two of you giggling a little as the soothing water washed over your panting bodies, the sight of his handsome bright face making your cheeks flush and bury your face in his neck in response.

he chuckled softly, gently setting your back against the wet tile wall before kissing you again and again, his mouth messy against your puffy lips as he tried to drink up all that you gave him, the tip of his cock slipping past your folds and brushing against your swollen clit— each time making you squeak and jump.

you didn’t care about anything, your mind reeling and just wanting megumi’s dick inside of you as soon as possible, knowing that you’d never really had sex before and literally not giving a single shit because it was him— someone you trusted the most out of anyone in your life, and someone you wanted to give your all to no matter the circumstance.

he lined his fat tip then against your drooling hole.

“wait! wait the door—“ you gripped his shoulders for support. “the door did you lock it?”

“nope.”

megumi pushed his cock in slowly and gently, your choked gasps and moans echoing inside the shower as his head fell to rest in the crook of your hickey covered neck, him groaning in ecstasy as your gummy warm pussy strangled his dick to the tightest degree, already previously so wet and gushy that it thankfully barely hurt you at all as he bottomed out.

“fuuuckk— you’re warm.” he murmured, gripping your hips like a vice and softly caressing his thumb against your slippery skin to soothe you— hoping (but not really), you’d maybe release the clutch your pussy had on his dick to stop him from already shooting his cum all over your insides like a loser.

he slowly drew his hips back and fucked into you again, you jolting at the force as you fumbled to keep your grip steady on his shoulders, his cock fucking thick and massive as his little curve poked deliciously at your cervix, him gradually increasing his pace as you shuddered over the quick pat pat pat’s echoing through the walls.

“g—gumiii..” you whined.

“what baby?” he mumbled breathlessly, his eyes glued to where his dick connected with your hole as it slipped in and out lewdly, your pussy literally squelching and screaming for him with your bouncing tits in his face that made him clench his jaw in self restraint— trying his hardest not to fucking ram into you like nothing and take you.

“y—you’re biigg!” you hiccuped, your little gasps of breath enticing droplets of cum to leak out of his tip and ooze out of your little wet folds, megumi moaning at your words.

“yeah?” pat pat pat— “s’too much for you baby?”

he picked up the pace, on purpose as he meanly bounced you on his cock and shot his hips up against your pussy, his big heavy balls slapping against your ass and making your eyes fucking cross at the feeling.

“tell me you love me.” he panted. “now.”

“i—“ hic! “i love you—”

megumi grabbed your cheeks with his fingers and mushed them together, grinning deviously at the way your pouty lips pushed out cutely.

“how much.”

“s—so- ah!— so much gumi—”

“more— shit!” he choked, a particular squeeze from your abused cunt almost making him finish. “m— more than anything?”

slap slap slap—

“y—yes!—” you could barely even speak due to the erotic hold he had on your face. “i love you i love you i love—”

you squealed as he let go of your face, gave into his desires and rammed into you, both hands on your bruised hips as he gave your pussy no room to breathe with how fast he was shoving his fat cock inside of you, pounding and pummeling into your guts as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your release build up in your tummy.

“why were you asking me about the door earlier huh?” he panted. “you don’t want anyone to see how much of a” thrust! “slut you are? your legs spread for me like this and your pretty pussy creaming on my dick?”

you whined and moaned so fucking loudly, it ringing through megumi’s ears like a wicked symphony.

he pinched your nipple when you didn’t respond.

“answer me.”

thrust thrust thrust—

“n—no i didn’t!”

“no?”

he gripped your neck and sloppily ran his mouth over yours, feeling his cum on the brink of shooting out.

“m’gonna cum inside.”

“in— mmphf!— inside?”

“you don’t want it?” he let go of your neck. “cause i won’t give it to you if you don’t want it—”

“i do i do!” you scrambled and cupped his cheeks, bringing his lips back in and kissing him messily.

“give it to me gumi please!—“ hic! “eeekkk!”

hot sticky cum pumped out of his tip and into your gushy walls, your high making your toes curl as you creamed around his heavy cock feverishly, megumi’s entire body fucking shivering at the way your pussy felt like it was entirely made and molded for him.

he softly pumped himself inside and out of you, his mouth hung open in a daze as he watched his white cum slide out of your pretty hole and over his still connected dick, gently easing out after a minute and carefully setting you back down— not completely though, as he knew you’d be sore as he leaned most if not all of your body weight against him.

you held each other in a tight embrace then, your heavy breaths trying to find its normal rhythm as the warm water continued to cascade down your bodies, comfortingly.

“why don’t we have sex more often...” you mumbled.

he laughed softly, pecking the side of your head. “i was waiting for you to tell me baby. i didn’t want to pressure you.”

“i was waiting for you to tell me.” you emphasized. “i didn’t want to jump on you and just violate you—”

megumi’s chest vibrated as he laughed again, a cute boyish one that made you bite your lip.

“violate me?” he murmured, an amused smile on his face. “i’d want you to.”

“yeah?” you tilted your head, and his cheeks grew hot.

“yeah.”

finally you and megumi were in sync again, going back into each other’s routines as if the week long hiccup never happened, the both of you officially unraveling the aching knots in your chests that you hauled for seven tormenting days straight— together and attached to the hip once again as he started picking you up for your seven am classes every morning like before, you going to his practices straight after, and spending your hours sleeping in his dark cozy room this time around, snoring your little life away so megumi could recover.

and eventually, the world series arrived.

“my camera! my camera! my digital one did i bring it?!”

you flipped your purse upside down and dumped all of your things on the floor— your lip combo, compact mirror, snacks, random receipts, and small perfume bottle rolling around on the ground until your digital camera was finally in view.

your best friend cackled as she crouched down and helped you pick up your things. “you were taking pictures up megumi’s nose on the two hour drive over here yes you brought it—”

“i know i forgot i’m so nervous what if they lose what if someone fumbles what if—”

you both stood as you rambled on and she placed both of her hands on your shoulders, shaking you. “calm down! they’ll be fine! win or lose they still made it to the world series!”

the crowd roared much like the past two games, except much heavier, louder, more drilling as the music drummed through your body, the air windy but refreshing, and high pitched whistles echoing from around the stadium as everyone anticipated for the biggest game of the season.

you had lost count how many different news stations were here broadcasting the game, how many reporters you saw scrambling across the field trying to interview certain players— you too busy taking pictures of every single little thing and the both of you reapplying your lip liners over a million fucking times— even flagging down a crew member so you could take a picture with just your best friend, your backs to the camera showcasing the last names of your boyfriend’s on your jersey’s.

and when the game officially commenced and the players all went out on the field— megumi and his team did what they always do best, taking control of the scoreboard and earning runs like chump change as they worked professionally to take the trophy home, you constantly snapping pictures of megumi that your digital camera ran out of fucking storage before you even got the shot that you wanted.

eventually after a while of playing, it was megumi’s turn to hit.

“fuck! record for me please record! my camera ran out of storage oh my god use my phone please i love you—”

your best friend laughed as she took your phone from you and did what you asked, your hands on the railing and leaning over it as you anxiously watched him walk up to home plate and take position.

but instead of doing his usual faux swings and repositioned footing, megumi stepped to the side and turned his bat downward, you unable to tell what he was doing as his frame was blocking, his arm moving in various directions before he stepped back again on the home plate and repositioned himself.

your eyes trailed to the ground.

megumi had carved your initials in the dirt.

your girl friend gasped and cooed. “y/nnn!”

as megumi now did his faux swings, your bottom lip only wobbled as your eyes stayed trained to the carvings in the dirt, your heart skipping a thousand beats per minute as the thought of megumi thinking about you out there during one of the most important nights of his life, made you question repeatedly how you ever landed a man like him when all you do is talk and cry.

hit!

your eyes snapped up and you quickly wiped the corners of your eyes, megumi already running across the first two bases as the crowd roared.

“bring it home fushiguro!”

several of his teammates were cheering him on from the dugout, megumi running four runs with just one fucking hit?—

a grand slam.

and suddenly you were taken back to the day you noticed megumi for the first time, just like now with your doe eyes wide and cheeks pink, recognizing the only piece of baseball terminology you knew besides a home run.

except then he was just a stranger you were hopelessly in love with that knew how to play ball like no other.

now though, he’s a man you couldn’t ever imagine your life without. and you didn’t want to.

so as the game reached nine innings, megumi’s team running on the field in a bundle of absolute tears and yells and hollers that they won the world fucking series, all clustering together as they hoisted several players up on their shoulders, including megumi—

you and your best friend instantly booked it down there in a fit of tears.

you had no time to get your personal belongings together as you sprinted across the field like your life fucking depended on it towards megumi— him being put down by his teammates and him frantically looking around after until he spotted you, the brightest smile spreading across his face as he chucked his cap to the side and opened his arms out wide for you.

you jumped in and he spun you around, holding you tight as the screaming crowd surrounding you drowned itself out as you cried into megumi’s neck.

he pulled back, panting.

“did you see how i did a grand slam?”

you nodded rapidly.

“i did it because i knew its the only thing you would recognize!” he yelled over the noise. “so you would feel included when we won!”

oh my god.

he still remembered when you told him that?

“guummiii! how did you even calculate that?!” you cried harder, and he laughed as he spread tiny kisses all over your teary face, his eyes glimmering with absolute unadulterated happiness and bliss, the reality of having the two things he wanted most in life settling into his mind.

megumi didn’t really have a stance on religion— whether the factor is real or not something he didn’t really care about nor mind as he simply just chose to live.

but as he held you on the field, you crying for him and embracing him the way that you were, kissing him the way that you were, megumi only wanted to be covered in your favor. megumi only wanted to devote his entire life to you.

megumi only wanted to believe in you.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

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[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it��s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

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[totalswag]

hii, I’m not sure if you take request still but if so is there a possible way you can do a drew x singer!reader one shot take on how Sabrina “arrests” her fans before performing Juno for being too hot but the reader does it to Drew during her shows please 🫶🏼

arrested for being too hot — DREW STARKEY

authors note THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! my request box is still open so feel free to send me any ideas regarding singer!reader or regular fic ideas you’d like me to write. this was so much writing too. thank for all the love on my last fic lovies <3

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summary "arresting" drew, your boyfriend, during your show before performing your song from your new album.

warning(s) none!

You are on tour for your new album in-front of thousands of fans almost every night. You worked hard on this album and it turned out wonderfully. If it weren’t for the amazing fans of yours, you don’t know where you’d be in your career— they are the reason you are doing this.

Half way into the show— going amazing. The crowd tonight isn't disappointing you. Everything you've hoped for on this tour. You've performed eighteen songs and about to go onto your nineteenth. Played musical spin the bottle not long ago which was really fun.

Before Juno, you begin with a small "skit" where you call someone out in the crowd, arresting them for being too hot. This became a thing after your first show of the tour and doing it ever since. Plus, fans absolutely love it. Interacting with your fans has always been something you did and create those bonds.

Drew, your boyfriend, is attending the show with Madelyn Cline, a mutual friend and cast-mate of Drew's. You told him earlier today you wanted to arrest him in the middle of the show to get the audience excited and it would be fun.

Drew was all for it, and he didn't want you to tell him what you were going to say—he prefers surprises.

Your pink, glittering, dazzling clothing was sparkling in the lights. You pressed your free hand to your brow as though you were looking around for a call. With security, you could see Drew and Madelyn making their way to the front.

You begin by adjusting your earpiece while moving around the stage in your long skirt. "You guys know that moment when you are in a room filled with such beautiful looking people that you start to feel overwhelmed?" When fans applaud, you smile.

"Oh, girls, I think I just seen my future husband in the front row! Oh my god, girls, come here, come here," you say anxiously into the microphone, beckoning them over and waving your free hand.

You turn to face Drew as the girls approach you, asking, "Do you see that gorgeous looking man over in the front row with his arms crossed in the tan shirt?" You speak into the microphone aloud, pointing to Drew in the crowd.

Your girls joyfully waved at Drew while placing their hands on your shoulder. As Drew blushes on the big screen, the crowd reflexively turns up the volume in the arena. 

"What's your name handsome?" With your head cocked slightly to the right toward your shoulder, you inquire in jest. 

"Drew!" You can hear him when he places his hands on the side of his lips. He gives you a childlike smile and a flushed face.

You say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get that?" as though you couldn't hear him. Leaning forward more, you place your free hand behind your ear.

He shakes his head and utters "Drew!" a little louder. 

"Oh my Drew, I must say that you must be a magnet because you drew me in" brings a smile to your face. Your tone indicated that you were trying quite hard not to laugh, yet you kept your calm brilliantly.

Fans had their phones out, capturing the entire interaction. Nobody would have expected Drew to be the person arrested at your gigs since the tour began.

"Drew, you are under arrest for being too hot," you say aloud, smiling and pointing at him— fanning yourself, moving your hips side to side as the sound of sirens going off with blue and red lights behind.

You put your left elbow against your girls shoulder, "guys do you ever just see someone so good looking that you just don't know what to do and all your clothes fall off in that moment" your long skirt slips off smoothy.

"Like your brain just like malfunctions and like I just wanna handcuffed to you now like," one of your girls puts the pink fluffy handcuffs into your hand, you kneel down, "do you know what I mean? Will you take these from me?"

Drew is overwhelmed in this very moment— it's very obvious how much you are affecting him. Drew gives you a gimme me gesture with his fingers, ready to catch the hand cuffs.

He takes them in his hands, looks down, and feels the smooth texture of the fuzzy. He tilts his head to the side before slowly glancing up at you with a smirk—keep in mind that he's still on the big screen.

"We're gonna sing this one to you, Drew."

Juno's song intro starts playing. You wave goodbye to Drew and Madelyn as you return to the center of the stage. You could hear the two begin speaking to fans in the distance.

Drew and Madelyn met you in the dressing room following the show. After giving Madelyn a hug and thanking her for attending the event, you moved to approach Drew and put your arms around his neck while grinning.

"That was insane," Madelyn exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "What about the full call-out and the handcuffs? Iconic! "You're the talk of the night; everyone is crazy about it."

You giggled as your face heated up. "It seemed right." "You should have seen his face!"

She laughs, "I got the whole thing on video, I'll send it to you later."

"I'm going to give you two some alone time, but you did such an amazing job tonight and looked so hot doing it," Madelyn adds, taking your hands in her and wiggling her brows. 

"Thank you, babe. I love you always," you say, hugging her before she leaves you and Drew alone. 

When you close the door, Drew comes behind you, placing his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek, making you laugh with the tenderness of his lips.

"I'm so proud of you baby, you did such an amazing job on stage and looked unbelievable in your outfits made me feel like the luckiest guy in the entire world." He expresses emotionally, which uplifts you. 

"Coming from you, it warms my heart baby. Forever grateful to have you in my life," you smile softly, leaning against his chest, feeling that sense of warmth you always feel whenever you are with him.

"And I'm forever grateful for you" he quietly responds, kissing the top of your head.

"So what are we gonna do with those pink fuzzy handcuffs?"

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[gothsuguru]

SUKIE NATION STAND UP! MALEWIFE & HOUSEHUSBAND SUKUNA… I DESIRE YOU.

OKAY. you already know that my sukie spidey senses were tingling when it came to this fic… i swear me and malewife sukuna are like THIS 🤞🏼 that’s the sukairo hivemind actually… <333 BUT OMG FIRST OF ALL!!!!!! i am so sorry i am SO late to this rb i just genuinely wanted to properly do a rb and i think i am finally in the proper headspace to do so and i also wanted to do this fic justice bc it GENUINELY. meant so much to me :’) sukie really does mean the world 2 me and having an arikuna special??? YOU KNOW I HAD TO BE HERE! <333 ((hopefully this will be coherent omfg <3))

sukuna shows his love for you in other ways. driving you wherever you need to be, holding you to his chest when you’re sleepy, watching reality shows with you even though he hates them. always watching over you, making sure you’re safe and happy, almost hunting for anything that could disturb your peace. you can feel that love, almost reach out and touch it; a hand on the small of your back guiding you through large crowds, a bouquet of camellias waiting for you on the kitchen table. // but, above all else — sukuna translates his boundless love into food. 

- SUKUNA IS THE ABSOLUTE “ACTS OF SERVICE” KING! i think he genuinely shows his love in terms of being a caretaker, he loves to nurture you in his own special way (which may seem a bit tough or rugged but it’s just oh-so genuine and filled w the utmost love.) he’s so PROTECTIVE and CARING… sniffles… he’s a mamabear & papabear all rolled into one <3

ALSO the quality time!!!!! him watching reality tv with you even if he hates it (methinks he secretly LOVES it he’s a dramatic messy bitch at his core 🤭), he holds you when you’re sleepy, he drives you around (passenger princess life that we all deserve) and him guiding you throughout the streets and in a way throughout life, always looking out for you and keeping you safe/protected bc that’s the way he can properly show his love! keeping you happy and healthy and safe i think is of the utmost importance ESPECIALLY to this specific sukuna :’) AND THE CAMELLIA BOUQUET??? you know i love my flower symbolism <333

AND THEN ONE OF MY FAVS… HIM TRANSLATING LOVE INTO FOOD! LOVE IS SUSTENANCE! I LOVE YOU AND I WANT YOU TO EAT WELL. SOBS………….

”i think i dreamt of you.” // waiting. for tiny crumbs of love, ones you give out like candy, almost absentminded. like you don’t even have to try. // (sometimes, he envies how freely affection seems to spill from your lips.)

- this part made me so soft it’s so . i truly do think sukuna feels envy with how easily proclamations of love comes to reader but it’s like <333 he shows his love through actions and acts of service and i wanted to say how much i LOVE that your reader doesn’t get upset/force him to verbally divulge his love… they just know it :’) it’s with every action he takes… every act is full of sincere love :’)

“you were a cashier at the mcdonalds i went to.” … a click of his tongue — his hand slipping from its position on your forearm. “get out of my kitchen.”

- JFNFKDMDKEKDNNDKENDJDNF THIS SCENE HAD ME DYINGGGGGGGGG LMFAOOOOOOOOO omfg sukuna would absolutely be that cashier that would pick a fight and throw ice cream at me……… yelp review 5/5 the cashier is mean but he’s a sexy bad bitch <3

three little words begin to crawl up his throat. he can feel them, ticklish, heavy, and gulps them down before they get too far.

- I LOVE WHEN WORDS CRAWL UP SOMEONE’S THROAT BUT THEY JUST CAN’T GET OUT!!!!!! i love how you made it physical too… it’s ticklish and heavy but it isn’t like a Stone… it’s just there but it’s a little bit too much for him at the moment so he has to gulp it down. it’s me and my love for sukuna’s slight fear of verbal intimacy against the world <333

sukuna has one eyebrow raised, a mild expression of disbelief painted on his face. unimpressed, as he gazes down at you, hair tousled and slicked back. wearing a leather jacket, black like the tattoos etched into his skin, on his face, a larger one running in streams of ink from his shoulder down to his forearm. you can see a tiny bit of it, crawling towards his collarbone. equally tantalizing.

- oh so you just decided to make the sexiest version of sukuna huh. you just decided to make the baddest bitch sukie the world has ever seen huh. TANTALIZING IS THE BEST WORD TO DESCRIBE HIM (an elite word choice too i just LOVE the world tantalizing so much omfg) BUT RAHHHHHHHHH LEATHER JACKET + BLACK TATTOOS -> ON HIS FACE AND SHOULDER AND ARMS AND COLLARBONES I NEED HIM SO FUCKING BADNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNDNNDND . I’m Calm

then he flicks your forehead. gently, not enough force behind it to even sting. ”klutz,” he says, again, and you know it’s a term of endearment. // it’s brief, easy to miss — a single tug of his lips. the tiniest little smile.

- WAHHHHHH i love when he lovingly teases/bullies his s/o it’s just SOOOOOOO kunacoded :3 the lil flick on the forehead, “klutz” he really is just so ENDEARED but also !!!!! HE NEEDS YOU TO EAT WELL!!!!! i think it’s so fucking precious that he went out of his way to go to reader’s work and give them their bento… his food is filled w so much nutrition and love and WAHHH you made me so hungry reading the food descriptions……… need me a cutlet over rice w panda shapes and onigiri… omnomnom

you’ve been working hard lately. don’t overdo it. the company won’t fall apart if you slack off every once in a while. i lo we can watch that show you like when you get home.

- SNIFFLES………. SOBBING………… UGLY CRYING ETC… HE IS SOOOOOOOO PRECIOUS TO ME 😭😭😭 the crossed out i lo was SUCH a good touch and he’s so cute w the lil note too… he knew reader probably had a frantic day so he made it better w food and a promise of watching their favorite show… ari i need sukie to be my boyfriend so bad…….. need him to cook me deliciously nutritious meals so bad i think he could Actually fix me

and as you dig in, savouring every piece of food he made, you’re almost certain you can feel it. that burst of emotion he always tries to contain, the three little words that always sputter out on the tip of his tongue. // there’s love, in this, in every meal he makes for you. there’s love in the way he’s picked out your favorite ingredients and seasonings, love in the way he’s put so much effort into the presentation alone. love, love, love. you can practically taste it on your tongue.

- who else fcuckifng Crode…….. i’ve never been more jealous of a character in my life. EVERY BITE IS FILLED W GENUINE LOVE AND YOU JUST WANT TO SAVOR THE FLAVOR AND THE HARD WORK HE PUT INTO IT! love is in EVERYTHING that he does from picking out the ingredients to actually cooking the meal to presentation to then Giving it to you to EAT… genuinely every act is filled w the utmost attention and care and love. it’s just so unbelievably sweet it’s unreal… he’s gonna give me cavities from how sweet he is and the fact that the words are always on the tip of his tongue… my man is down Horrendous

you’re drooling. you’re sure of it. eyes darting from plate to plate, dish to dish, overwhelmed by the delicacies; trays of sushi, perfect cuts of salmon and tuna cushioned by soft rice, maki rolls stuffed with all your favorite toppings, plenty of soy sauce in tiny cups. fried shrimp, a golden colour, fluffy and crispy, and miso soup topped with garlic and cubes of tofu, steam rising from the ceramic bowls. and then, of course, his infamous dumplings, grilled on both sides — a perfect golden brown. all your favorites.

- I’M DROOLING. I CAN’T EVEN EAT SEAFOOD AND I WAS DROOLING. i’m looking respectfully at his famous golden brown grilled dumplings…….. sukie pleek give me some right now if you don’t i’ll literally create the shinjuku fight 2.0 and no one is safe . GIVE ME THE SUKUNA SPECIAL NOWWWWWWW I NEEEEEEED IT!!!!!!!! also ari you write SOOOOOOOO vividly like it GENUINELY feels like i can ENVISION AND SEE the food right in front of me!!!!!

“do you know what bluebells symbolize?” // “why else would i ask him to buy them?”

- I LOOKED UP BLUEBELL SYMBOLISM. “everlasting love.” SUKUNA IS SOOOOO IN LOOOOOOOVE!!!!!!! ofc he’d look up flower meanings ofc he would… it’s such a sukuna thing to do i really do think he’s sooooo romantic and a gentleman in that sense :’)

“did you really think you could trick me so easily?” ”i did! you carried me here!”

- PELALDNDMDMDMMSNDNDNDD AGAIN THIS SCENE HAD ME DYING LAUGHING LIKE READER IS SO FUCKING REAL I TOO WOULD PRETEND TO SLEEP (I HAVE TBH) IN ORDER TO BE CARRIED TO BED <333 sukie’s so indulgent he loves his baby brat so much hehe

(it makes him wish he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole; keep you tucked between his ribs, where you'll be warm and safe. but he brushes the thought away.) 

- one of my favorite lines in the fic… him wanting to unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole to keep you safe tucked in between his ribs… this is so sukunacoded and i do think it’s his own personal way of showing affection, all he wants to do is keep you safe and the best way is to keep you with him! it may sound twisted but it’s so sweet to me i really do love this line so much :’)

he loves hearing your voice turn delirious, all sleepy and dreamy with fatigue, loves your stupid questions and even stupider answers. he loves being kept awake on nights when he feels too stiff to sleep, when he knows he’s going to have that dream again; a dream of crumbling buildings and burning flesh, of moonlight on asphalt and blood underneath a young boy’s fingernails. // a dream where he looks at you and feels nothing but apathy — far more grueling than any of the bloodshed. // (you chase those ghosts away, ground him back to a sweetened life. one that smells of cinnamon and sunlight and ripe fruit.)

- ari. i love love loved what you did here, i loved the tie in to canonical sukuna being a nightmare for sukuna… maybe it’s him in his dreamscape maybe it’s him subconsciously remembering a past life idk whatever it IS, i literally had my jaw dropped. this tidbit was everything to me

him wanting to be kept awake by your silliness on nights where he envisions burning flesh and blood beneath a young boy’s fingernails (yuji my beloved) and WOW. i think one of the worst parts of his nightmare would be looking at you in apathy… i think he doesn’t even want to fathom a universe where he isn’t devoted and in love w you. i think that apathy scared him more than anything and maybe on those nights he holds you a lil tighter </3 WAHHHHH YOU CHASE HIS GHOSTS AWAY 🥹 cinnamon, sunlight, & ripe fruit… i love your mind ari

”pleasant sleep?” you echo, grin teetering on something mischievous; a sleepy snort pushing past your lips. ”what are you, a fucking vampire?” // then he’s clicking his tongue, that familiar sound, and pushing your face into the fluffy pillow on your bed — muffling your little giggles. gentle, his large palm on the back of your head. affectionate. // ”behave,” he tuts, but he’s grinning.

- MY GOOBERS MY DORKS MY GOOFBALLS IN LOVE I LOOOOOOVED THE DIALOGUE AND CHARACTERIZATION IN THIS FIC SO MUCH IT FELT SO REAL TO ME HEHEHEHE <333 reader making fun of sukuna is so real like the count dracula gagged him a bit omfg… HE’S SUCH A PLAYFUL BULLY I LOVE HIMMMMMMMM HIS LIL “behave” W A GRIN HE IS SOOOOOO IN LOVE IT MAKES HIM LOOK SILLY :>

he tucks you into his neck, and mouths the words into your ear — three little words, always those same little words, never quite spoken in more than a whisper, as if he fears his voice would break under their pressure.

- sukuna mouthing the words into your ear… “i love you” is so scary and sacred to him i love the fact that this big, strong man is so weak to his s/o and those three little words… he truly loves you so much it could break him in a million little pieces… sniffles……… i adore him so much

- i screenshotted this whole entire part bc it genuinely speaks for itself. love is in every action, in every word, in every act of service, it’s in EVERYTHING he does. love love love, he exemplifies love he personifies love. he IS love. TO ME.

a silent declaration, a hymn you can always hear if you strain your ears enough — i love you, i love you, i love you.

- YOUR ENDINGS ARE GONNA DO IT FOR ME EVERYTIME. A SILENT DECLARATION… A HYMN… i love you, i love you, i love you.

WAHHHHHHH AND I LOVE YOUUUUUUUU ARI <333 thank you once again for creating such a beautiful and stunning fic/story… i feel like i repeat myself all the time but genuinely i mean it when i say your writing just transports me into your little love-filled worlds and i never wanna get out! you write w such delicate care for the characters and relationships the characters have and it SHOWS!!!!! and i really loved your descriptions in this along w your imagery and dialogue… i literally never wanted to be a “reader” so bad before 😭 i need sukie to cook me delicious food and handfeed me… he could fix me in ways i can’t even fathom.

also omg sorry if this whole rb feels wonky i feel like i almost Forgot how to do rb’s and i don’t know if my complete and utter adoration for this fic and you and sukuna came through but please know it’s THERE i just think my brain can’t compute things properly 😭 I PROMISE I WILL DO BETTER FOR MERGURU… SNIFFLES… just know i love you and your stories and your world building and your takes on the characters <3 I AM SMOOCHING YOU AND SUKUNA SO HARD RN <333 my beloved meowmeows <333 MWAH!

^ how i imagine a sukuna head bonk would feel like </3

sometimes i long to eat you up ; ryōmen sukuna

synopsis; sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you. he cooks for you, instead.

word count; 6.0k

contents; ryōmen sukuna/reader, gn!reader, househusband!sukuna, no curses au, fluff fluff fluff!!, sukuna is Whipped bc i say so, (he bullies you a bit but he does so lovingly), lots of cooking and descriptions of food, implied reincarnation au if you reeaalllyyyyy squint (but feel free to ignore it if that’s not your thing!!), reader is a silly goose, sukuna vs human emotion (he loses), he’s ooc but he’s Free

a/n; >:3 is anyone shocked….. that’s right. ari is in fact capable of writing for characters who aren’t stsg….. this one has been in my wips for Many Months now but i finally finished it!! i just think being in a nice warm kitchen could fix him. (super cute dividers by @/enchanthings !!)

sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you.

throughout the years you've been together, it's something you've grown used to. words like love must feel foreign in his mouth; even more so when they slip into the air, voiced, manifested. 

discomforting, if the crease between his brows is anything to go by.

he only says it under certain conditions, little moments here and there, all of them memorable; a particularly sentimental midnight drive, that time you broke down sobbing into his chest after a rough day, the night he proposed. and so on.

little moments, precious moments, few and far between. that’s just how sukuna is; unaccustomed to being loved, even more unaccustomed to being in love. swallowing the words down, afraid of what could happen if he spoke them aloud, through more than a mere whisper. as if they could burn you.

you don’t mind, because you know him. and you know that he loves you, even if he doesn’t say it nearly as often as you do. 

sukuna shows his love for you in other ways. driving you wherever you need to be, holding you to his chest when you’re sleepy, watching reality shows with you even though he hates them. always watching over you, making sure you’re safe and happy, almost hunting for anything that could disturb your peace. you can feel that love, almost reach out and touch it; a hand on the small of your back guiding you through large crowds, a bouquet of camellias waiting for you on the kitchen table.

but, above all else — sukuna translates his boundless love into food. 

the sun rises outside the walls of your apartment, slow and steady, soft and hazy sunlight flitting through the windows of your kitchen. dyeing the open space in a golden glow, like something out of a summery daydream. 

as you rub the tender skin beneath your bleary eyes, your feet move you forward. slowly, groggily. stumbling towards your target.

sukuna doesn’t flinch when you wrap your arms around his waist, forehead bumping into his broad back, practically tackling him into a hug. he’s become attuned to the sound of your clumsy footsteps. he makes a tiny noise, acknowledging your presence, and that’s all. 

the low purr of the espresso machine buzzes in the air, and sukuna watches over the process, dutiful as ever. the same drawn out, thoughtful process he goes through every morning; picking out the coffee beans himself, grinding them into coffee grounds, and making a cup for you with his beloved, expensive coffee machine. making sure every setting is exactly as it should be.

it gives him peace of mind. and it needs to be perfect, in every possible way — so sukuna tries his best not to let you distract him.

(he never quite succeeds.) 

a blissful little sigh slips from your lips, as you squeeze his waist. hands wandering, feeling him up, buzzing with the warmth the contact gives you. he’s always so cozy, like this. all you want is to smush your face into his plush chest.

but sukuna clicks his tongue, and places a palm on your forearm. keeping it still. his voice comes out raspy, excruciatingly deep. a gruff kind of tilt to it that makes you shiver.

”assaulting me first thing in the morning, are we?”

you’re a little too sleepy to respond, too out of it. still reeling with the hazy remnants of your deep sleep, stretching your limbs out groggily and making a little mrm sound that makes his lips twitch upwards. unwillingly, might he add.

the two of you do this every morning. it’s a ritual, of sorts, one that you need to function properly. he always makes you a morning cup of coffee, and you always cling to him through the process. he always huffs and puffs and clicks his tongue — but never once pushes you off.

all sukuna does is caress your arm, absentmindedly, where it rests around his midsection. still watching over the slow brew of the coffee. attentive.

you try not to disturb him too much, you do. because you know he loves this, deep down; the morning sunlight kissing up his nape, the sense of peace sinking into his bones. the feeling of your chest against his back, your fingers fiddling with the strings of his apron.

but eventually, you always give in to the temptation of speaking. of coaxing a response from that deep, raspy morning voice. so you part your lips.

”did you have nice dreams?” is murmured into his back, your cheek smooshed against the soft, dark fabric of his tight turtleneck.

sukuna hums. listening, always, even when he pretends to tune you out. then comes his response.

”i never dream.”

a moment passes.

you bite down on your lip — struggling to withhold a giggle. it doesn’t really work, but you tactfully pretend not to hear his displeased grumble. ”right,” you smile. ”my bad.”

a soft silence washes over you, once more. just for a couple of blissful moments, as you drowsily blink, and sukuna puts two ceramic cups on the counter. until you break it again.

”i think i dreamt of you.”

sukuna stills, for a moment. only barely, a brief twitch of his fingers; waiting. for tiny crumbs of love, ones you give out like candy, almost absentminded. like you don’t even have to try. 

ones he never fails to pick up, tuck into his pockets, chew between his teeth.

(sometimes, he envies how freely affection seems to spill from your lips.)

it’s touching, in a way. the idea that he never quite leaves your mind. that he’s there, always, even in your dreams. it’s… sweet. he supposes.

a little yawn leaves your lips, as you stretch your limbs out like a sleepy cat. ”you were a cashier at the mcdonalds i went to.”

…

a click of his tongue — his hand slipping from its position on your forearm. ”get out of my kitchen.”

and just like that, a burst of giggles bubble up inside your throat. muffled into the cotton of his sweater, a sound that makes his heart feel a little too big for his body.

”noooo…” you whine, nails digging into the fabric so he can’t shake you off. clinging to him tighter when he tries, no real intent behind it. ”’m sorry. don’t get mad!”

”i would never work there,” he scoffs. ”frankly, the thought is insulting.”

you quirk a brow. ”what kind of beef do you have with mcdonalds?” 

”don't ask me stupid questions,” he huffs, clicking his tongue, a bitter lilt to his voice. ”they don’t make food. it’s practically contaminated — poisonous. i don’t want you eating that plastic.”

(why would you want to, when you have him to make you anything you want?)

you bite down on your lip, trying to hide a smile. he sounds cute when he gets riled up. ”aw. i like it, though...”

a moment passes.

”alright, then.” his voice is controlled, hiding every single tinge of his carefully concealed frustration. he must have been an actor in a past life, to sound so effortlessly unperturbed. ”go buy yourself one of those cheap, awful, bland cappuccinos you love so much. i’ll pay.”

your lips twitch upward. he’s just being snarky, you know he is; but you still bundle up his sweater with your fists, and shake your head. ”i’m just kidding,” you purr, biting back another yawn. ”only want yours.”

sukuna stills. silent, once more. trying not to acknowledge how your words tug at his heartstrings, chew at the bones of his ribcage. something akin to pride sprouts in his chest, and it’s enough to get him to smooth his thumb over your knuckle again. content.

finally, the kitchen falls silent. only the low purring of the coffee machine to fill your ears, until that dwindles out too. a kind of peace settles in the air. something holy, sukuna thinks. 

something that makes him feel human.

he moves his hands delicately, tenderly. attentive, as he pours hot espresso into your cup, slowly and gracefully, a delicate rhythm to his steady hands. just thinking of how warm you feel, like this, how you touch him like he’s harmless, like he could do no wrong in your eyes. how your voice sounds so pretty in the wake of a new morning, when it’s just a little raspy, unguarded in a way that makes him feel like he’s cradling a wounded bird in his arms. something fragile and majestic. 

he pretends not to like the sound of it, the way it distracts him from his extensive brewing process; but sukuna thinks he’d do just about anything to hear it once more. absolutely anything.

”what are you thinking about, sukuna?”

”nothing,” he’s quick to hum. maybe a little too quick, but before you can question it, he scoffs. ”are you gonna cling to me all day, you little brat?”

”… can i?” 

sukuna clicks his tongue.

(he’s awfully lucky you don’t look up to see the cherry red tint of his pierced ears.)

three little words begin to crawl up his throat. he can feel them, ticklish, heavy, and gulps them down before they get too far. busying himself with the clinking of coffee cups and stirring of silver spoons. 

then he’s turning around, to face you properly. blowing a little on the cup, a fragrance of espresso spreading throughout the kitchen, blending with the flowers by the windowsill. he hands you a cup of coffee, made just the way you like it, glancing at your forehead; wondering if he should pair it with a kiss.

maybe later.

”careful. it’s hot,” he hums. then he’s turning around to prepare his own cup, while you murmur your thanks, squeezing at his waist affectionately. taking a sip of the bitter brew.

a warm cup of coffee, thoughtfully crafted, only to be passed into your awaiting hands. the same transaction you repeat every single morning. the same act, conveying the same sentiment; those three little unspoken words. 

you take another sip, and a smile blooms on your lips. 

your stomach is growling.

it’s been ten minutes since it started. ten minutes since you noticed the pit of hunger in your gut, growing more and more for every passing second; and you’re trying to ignore it, valiantly, sitting in your cubicle and mentally cursing yourself for being so scatterbrained.

how on earth could you forget your own lunch?

a pang of ache bubbles up in your stomach, and you curl into yourself. sitting on a not-so-comfy chair, doing your best to survive, staring at the clock on the wall and watching the minutes tick down. 

only twenty minutes left of your lunch break.

in hindsight, it was inevitable. inevitable that you’d burn yourself out, a bit, that it’d make you lose sleep, that your fatigued brain would eventually forget something so important. so fundamental to your peace of mind.

you need your lunch to focus properly — there’s no way in hell that you’ll make it through the work day otherwise. you could accept your fate and go buy a sandwich and a can of coffee, but…

(dammit.)

sukuna always makes your lunches himself. tailored to suit your tastes, to give you the nutrients and energy you need not to lose your mind or set the building on fire, with all the hours you spend staring into your computer screen and writing until your brain turns to mush. they’re always delicious, always lovingly made, and you think you might break down and cry if you have to settle for a cheap sandwich instead.

a sigh slips from your lips. your coworker shoots you a sympathetic glance, hearing yet another of your stomach’s agonized growls. she taps at your desk to get your attention, and you look up to meet her kind eyes.

”my offer still stands, you know?”

you give her a smile. ”no, it’s fine,” you murmur, rubbing the back of your neck. ”eating someone else’s handmade food just wouldn’t feel right…”

”he spoils you, huh?”

a huff. you pout a little, and she chuckles, going back to eating from her bento. it’s hard not to feel jealous. it’s even harder not to think of the bento still waiting for you in your fridge.

finally, you resign yourself to your tragic fate. putting both palms on your desk, ready to lift yourself up; doomed to survive on a cheaply made sandwich and a too-sweet can of coffee. it’s not ideal, not at all — but it is what it is.

if only you hadn’t forgotten it…

”you’re a klutz.”

something is placed directly in front of you. two boxes, stacked on top of each other, wrapped up in a pink cloth. tied neatly, smelling just slightly of food. tantalizing.

you raise your head.

sukuna has one eyebrow raised, a mild expression of disbelief painted on his face. unimpressed, as he gazes down at you, hair tousled and slicked back. wearing a leather jacket, black like the tattoos etched into his skin, on his face, a larger one running in streams of ink from his shoulder down to his forearm. you can see a tiny bit of it, crawling towards his collarbone. equally tantalizing.

a click of his tongue breaks you out of your silent stupor — unable to do anything but look at him. like he just fell out of the sky. 

”sukuna,” you sputter, finally, glancing down at the bento and then back up at him. ”you —”

”you’re lucky i noticed,” he cuts you off. ”almost didn't make it in time.” one glance at the clock on the wall, and he’s placing a can of peach tea on your desk; it’s still covered in condensation, his fingers leaving prints on the exterior. ”i should go. doubt your bosses will be very thrilled to have a motorcycle parked outside.”

”ah.” you fall silent. looking down at your lap with a weak smile, a little too ashamed for his liking. ”… sorry, ’kuna. i know you’re busy.”

he gazes down at you where you sit, slumped in your chair, bags beneath your weary eyes. an apologetic smile on your lips, just a little dejected. like you’re being scolded.

(his eyes soften.)

sukuna shakes his head. only slightly, by a hair, but enough to put you at ease — to let you know he isn’t upset, that grumpy is simply his default state. his voice shifts into a lower, softer tone. ”just don’t forget it next time.” 

then he flicks your forehead. gently, not enough force behind it to even sting. ”klutz,” he says, again, and you know it’s a term of endearment.

a smile sprouts on your lips. you sit up straight, eyes crinkling as you look at him, before falling down on the bento in front of you — practically drooling as you think about the meal you’re about to have.

”thank you,” you coo, a sweet grin on your lips. voice tingling with barely contained fondness, expression and posture brightening as you tap your feet beneath your desk. meeting his gaze. ”i love you.”

something smooths over sukuna’s face; something you can’t quite put your finger on. his lips are pursed, and his amber eyes simmer with something awfully fond. swirling like the spots of sunlight on the wall just behind him.

it’s brief, easy to miss — a single tug of his lips. the tiniest little smile.

his hand reaches out, fingertips ghosting over your skin as he brushes through your bangs; adjusting them. and you know it’s just an excuse to touch you, that he’d let himself be greedy and ruffle your hair if you weren’t in public. he doesn’t like having an audience, small as it may be.

(but he can’t really control himself, when it comes to you.)

”make sure to eat all of it,” he hums, glancing out the window, towards the motorcycle parked outside. ”i’ll come pick you up later.”

you smile, and sukuna leaves. elegant, even in the way he moves. collected and confident, languid, long legs and a broad back. the warmth of his palm on your head remains, as you wave after him with a cheery see you soon!

and it’s finally time. with an eager kind of giddiness, you begin to unwrap your bento — ignoring your still growling stomach, the jealous mutters of your coworker, the ticking of the clock on the wall. from outside the window comes a ray of sunshine, a streak of gold falling across the floorboards. it illuminates the contents of your lunch, and you swallow down a gulp.

the presentation is lovely, as always. the top layer carries a mouth-watering cutlet, a wide array of little vegetables, fresh and clean, while the bottom one has a couple perfectly formed onigiri. they’re awfully cute, shaped into little pandas, decorated with dried seaweed and sesame seeds. you pick one up, holding it in the light of the glittering sun seeping in through the window behind you — it’s so cute you almost don’t want to eat it at all.

”did he really make that..?” your coworker mumbles, still chewing on her own food. you’re too hungry to respond.

you fish out a tiny note, tucked between the boxes. that’s where he usually puts them. you don’t remember when it started, but you know he enjoys it; writing down little reminders or words of encouragement. his handwriting is beautiful, clear and concise. your eyes trail over every little word, every letter, the little scribble in the middle. it makes you smile.

you’ve been working hard lately. don’t overdo it. the company won’t fall apart if you slack off every once in a while. i lo we can watch that show you like when you get home.

a warmth spreads through your body, from the pit of your stomach down to the tips of your fingers; your heart constricting to make room for the love that blooms between your ribs. you barely even notice the wide smile on your lips, leaning forward to leave a little kiss on the paper. it’ll have to do, since he isn’t here to receive it himself.

and as you dig in, savouring every piece of food he made, you’re almost certain you can feel it. that burst of emotion he always tries to contain, the three little words that always sputter out on the tip of his tongue.

the cutlet is perfectly crispy, juicy on the inside, practically melting on your tongue. seasoned thoroughly, cooked to completion, so tasty it makes your mouth water. the onigiri are stuffed with a wide array of fillings, fluffy rice blending nicely together with the contents, little grains sticking to the corners of your mouth. and the veggies are cut into cute little star shapes, light and refreshing, balancing the meal and making you wolf everything down with a bright smile. 

there’s love, in this, in every meal he makes for you. there’s love in the way he’s picked out your favorite ingredients and seasonings, love in the way he’s put so much effort into the presentation alone. love, love, love. you can practically taste it on your tongue.

the peach tea tastes sweet and fruity, and you gulp it down eagerly, bento left empty. there are only five minutes left until you have to start working again — but you feel nowhere near as spent as before. you think of his hands, his eyes. his love.

god, you can’t wait to get home.

a soft, orange glow simmer in the kitchen, an atmosphere too sweet not to savour.

your dining room table is covered in a white cloth, burdened by the weight of one burning candle and an expensive vase; stuffed with camellias in all hues, jasmine buds and pretty bluebells, floral scent mingling with the cinnamon-like one of the scented candle. every inhale fills your senses with pure bliss. 

not to mention the food. 

you’re drooling. you’re sure of it. eyes darting from plate to plate, dish to dish, overwhelmed by the delicacies; trays of sushi, perfect cuts of salmon and tuna cushioned by soft rice, maki rolls stuffed with all your favorite toppings, plenty of soy sauce in tiny cups. fried shrimp, a golden colour, fluffy and crispy, and miso soup topped with garlic and cubes of tofu, steam rising from the ceramic bowls. and then, of course, his infamous dumplings, grilled on both sides — a perfect golden brown. 

all your favorites.

sukuna takes hold of a teapot, made of glass, stuffed with a blooming chrysanthemum. petals stretching out like rays of sunlight in the golden water. he pours it into two ceramic cups, and then promptly drags a chair out for you; a silent beckoning.

but all you can do is stare. 

”sukuna…”

he quirks a brow, meeting your astonished stare, eyes round and confused like a puppy’s; painfully cute. he could eat you up. ”what?”

you open your mouth, then close it again. silent, furrowing your brows as if in deep contemplation. ”our anniversary is in august, right?” something panicked smooths over your face. ”i didn’t forget?”

a sigh spills from his lips. ”don’t be dumb,” he clicks his tongue, glancing away for no more than a moment. ”we haven’t had much time to eat together, lately. that’s all.” 

(he missed you. he wanted to spoil you, a bit.

he could say it out loud; but he chooses not to.)

either way, he knows you get the message. because suddenly your eyes glimmer, and a full smile blooms on your pretty lips. you waste no time in plopping down on the seat in front of you, right across from sukuna. ”hehe. thank you, baby.”

he huffs. tiny, more of a shy little breath. ”alright, already. eat. before it gets cold.”

”okay, okay!” 

he watches as you grab your chopsticks, hungrily eyeing all the dishes on display. listening to his own heartbeat; thrumming, softly, just behind his ribs. pulsating like a fish gasping for air.

”gosh. when did you even do all this?” you ask, soaking in the intimate atmosphere, as he runs an absent hand through his hair. still smelling lightly of coconut oil from the shower he took.

”when you were away.” he reaches for the cup in front of him, tracing the tips of his fingers against the ceramic. ”jin helped. not with the cooking, obviously, but…” he raises it to his lips before taking a sip. ”the ambience. i suppose.”

a hum. you raise your hand, reaching for the bouquet of flowers. ”did he bring these, too?”

a curt nod is all you get.

it’s enough to have your lips raising up into a smile; fingertips brushing against the petals, pink and yellow, cupping the flowers like they’re made of glass. ”no wonder. do you know what bluebells symbolize?”

sukuna stills. he meets your gaze, eyes trailing towards your knuckles, your fingers, how they blend together with the petals. how he could almost mistake them for stalks. he leans back in his chair, and mutters under his breath;

”why else would i ask him to buy them?”

you blink. not in surprise, but realization — the sweet kind, like a splash of citrus blooming on your tongue. 

(he’s always been a bit of a sap, hasn’t he.)

”… that’s true,” your lips split into a sheepish smile, hoping he won’t feel the heat of your cheeks from this distance. ”they’re pretty. thank you.”

another little furrow of his brows. ”enough of that,” comes a sigh. ”if you really want to thank me, make sure the food doesn’t go to waste.”

you stifle a giggle, reaching for the bowl of miso soup. following his advice.

sukuna watches you dig in with a certain look in his eyes, something alert and attentive, soft in the corners. resting his chin on the heel of his palm, waiting patiently for the little blissful sighs to start spilling from your lips. wallowing in the finely crafted atmosphere, pleasant scents and soft lighting, the air brimming with something tender and raw.

he spent all day preparing this. planning out every single meal, waiting for jin to arrive with the scented candles and flowers, leaving his homemade ice cream in the freezer for later. cleaning the kitchen until not a single speck of dust remained. cathartic, to immerse himself into cooking for you, cutting tofu and vegetables into little cubes and slices, fiddling with the temperature settings and watching blue flames lick at the stove like hungry snakes. gutting the fish he bought fresh from the market, dipping large shrimps into boiling oil.

there’s something powerful about it, something he can’t quite put his finger on. something that makes him feel at ease. and it’s tender — the act of creation, of feeding someone you care for. he didn’t appreciate that part of the process until you came into his life. he didn’t truly love cooking, either.

(he doubts he’ll ever tell you, but he won’t ever stop being grateful for that.)

you continue to eat, sipping from the soup, dipping sushi into soy sauce, munching at the tempura, humming happily to yourself. you look so pleased, so content, like the cat that got the cream. 

sukuna watches. his eyes stay glued to your fingers, the way you hold your chopsticks, the grain of rice that sticks to the corner of your lip after a particularly big bite. his ears stay keen, intent on picking up on every little joyous hum behind your teeth. even while eating, he’s feeding off your reactions; every expression you bless him with. he fell in love with the way you eat many years ago.

”so good,” you moan, closing your eyes in pure bliss, and he has to take a sip of his tea to cover the smug smile on his face.

”make sure to finish what’s on your plate,” is all he says, but the honeyed note in his voice gives his satisfaction away. pleased by your approval. ”i made dessert, too.”

at that, your eyes light up even further, swirling with something excited and sweet, and he fails to hold back an amused little huff.

the evening continues. you eat your fill, warm soup and fried food and sugary ice cream, and promptly fall asleep on the couch in the middle of a romcom he only watches for your commentary. snoozing on his shoulder, all tuckered out. always so sleepy after eating. 

he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, the tips of his fingers gliding across your soft skin. he spares a moment to admire you, under the soft glow of the living room lights — unable to shake away that greedy vein beneath his skin. if it was possible, he’d admire you forever; but there’s no way you’d ever sit still for so long. 

so he carries you to bed. big, strong, tattooed arms, lifting you up with ease, like a baby bird in the maw of a rottweiler. handling you with the utmost care, tucking you under the covers, leaning forward to press a single kiss between your brows —

and then you smile.

…

sukuna stills. he watches you, watches you, watches you, every single miniscule motion of your facial features. 

then he pinches your cheek.

”owww!”

your eyes flutter open, flashing with betrayal, and sukuna only gives you that signature click of his tongue. ”did you really think you could trick me so easily?”

”i did! you carried me here!” your lips fall into a petulant frown, as you scramble to sit up straight against the fluffy pillows. he only rolls his eyes.

”i wanted to appease you,” he says, and you almost fall for it because it’s not quite a lie. ”such a brat. can’t even walk on your own, huh?”

”well, pardon me for wanting my sweet fiancé to hold me.”

”i hold you all the time.”

”it’s not the same,” you sigh, two little shakes of your head. ”whatever. you wouldn't get it.”

sukuna quirks a brow, but doesn’t push it. instead, he releases the slightest exhale, eyes blooming with amusement, his palm finding its way to your tousled hair. smoothing down your skull.

”go back to sleep,” he beckons, softly, almost hypnotically. his voice is at its most tender when it’s late at night; a little too exhausted to sharpen his syllables properly. ”i’ll hold you later.”

”… you’re not joining me?” you ask, eyes filling with confusion, and he feels a slight tug at his heart — a little string that ties him to you. 

”i need to plan next week’s meals,” he mutters, watching as you furrow your brows, meeting his gaze with a pair of disappointed puppy dog eyes. 

you know he’s weak to them.

”don’t pout,” he scoffs, looking away for the briefest little moment. weak. ”i'll do it quickly.”

”you always say that,” comes a heavy sigh. you bundle up the covers with your fists, shooting him a bitter little glance. ”but it always takes forever.”

”don’t complain,” he tuts. tilting his head, pink locks falling across his forehead, his maroon eyes. ”haven’t i pampered you enough tonight?”

at that, you fall silent. still pouting.

he tries not to feel bad. he wants to sleep with you; but he can’t. sunday nights are for meal planning. they have been since you first moved in together, and he’s not planning to put a fork in the road of his carefully nurtured routine anytime soon. he needs to make sure you eat balanced meals, get all the vitamins you need — it’s practically life and death.

still, it itches at him. the way you gnaw at your bottom lip, curl in on yourself. you look sleepy and disappointed, and the bed looks empty, which only makes you look smaller in comparison. you look small and lonely and sad.

(it makes him wish he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole; keep you tucked between his ribs, where you'll be warm and safe. but he brushes the thought away.) 

for a moment, he’s entirely still. then his pinkie twitches, beckoning him to you. there it goes, again, that invisible string. he takes a step forward, crouching down to meet you at eye level. 

”sorry,” he breathes, barely above a whisper. the word feels foreign on his tongue, but he swallows the discomfort. ”i’ll hurry. you have my word.”

you blink.

then you’re smiling, again. flipping onto your side, sluggishly, just to face him fully. ”’kay.” you reach out for his hand. ”don’t complain if i’m knocked out when you get back, though.”

he looks at your intertwined fingers. brushing his thumb across your skin, a hum buzzing in his throat. affectionate, despite his teasing. ”i wont have to listen to your nightly tangents, then.”

”you love my nightly tangents!”

a snort pushes past his lips. ”sure,” he smirks, ever so slightly, snarky enough to make it sound like a lie. because he does love them. 

he loves hearing your voice turn delirious, all sleepy and dreamy with fatigue, loves your stupid questions and even stupider answers. he loves being kept awake on nights when he feels too stiff to sleep, when he knows he’s going to have that dream again; a dream of crumbling buildings and burning flesh, of moonlight on asphalt and blood underneath a young boy’s fingernails. 

a dream where he looks at you and feels nothing but apathy — far more grueling than any of the bloodshed. 

(you chase those ghosts away, ground him back to a sweetened life. one that smells of cinnamon and sunlight and ripe fruit.)

sukuna does love your nightly tangents. but you don’t need to know that, so he doesn’t say it. he keeps it locked behind his teeth, under his tongue. 

he squeezes your palm. 

and then he’s rising to his feet. you follow him with your eyes, blinking drowsily, cheek smooshed against the soft mattress. he resists an uncharacteristic coo.

”g’night, honey,” you muster up a sweetened grin, teeth shining like stars. ”don’t stay up too late, okay?”

he hums; a silent i won’t. there are some things he won’t speak aloud, because he knows you’ll hear them anyway. 

”pleasant sleep,” he murmurs, raising a hand up to card through his hair. blinking away the fatigue — until a soft bout of laughter spills from out your throat.

”pleasant sleep?” you echo, grin teetering on something mischievous; a sleepy snort pushing past your lips. ”what are you, a fucking vampire?”

sukuna blinks.

then he’s clicking his tongue, that familiar sound, and pushing your face into the fluffy pillow on your bed — muffling your little giggles. gentle, his large palm on the back of your head. affectionate.

”behave,” he tuts, but he’s grinning. your giggles don’t fade away, even when he’s turning on his heel and walking out of your bedroom. 

”sweet dreams, count dracula!” 

he throws a glance over his shoulder, meeting your crinkled eyes. ”you’re not getting any breakfast tomorrow.”

ignoring your muffled, distressed whine, sukuna hides a fond smile behind his palm. biting down on his bottom lip to keep it at bay — absently deciding on what to make for your breakfast tomorrow. pancakes or waffles? maybe he’ll skip the vanilla ice cream, this time. just to teach you a lesson.

when he returns, half an hour later, you’re fast asleep. curled up under the covers, drool slipping down your bottom lip. he tucks you into his neck, and mouths the words into your ear — three little words, always those same little words, never quite spoken in more than a whisper, as if he fears his voice would break under their pressure.

but his breath fans against the shell of your ear, and you absently nuzzle into your arms. as if you understand. that silent language between you.

he wonders if you realize how much you mean to him.

sukuna doesn’t tell you that he loves you, but you know. you know, because it’s in everything he does.

you know that he loves you because he actually allows you into his kitchen, when anyone else would be chased out with a pitchfork. because he doesn’t push you away when you wrap your arms around his waist, over his cream-coloured apron, even though you know it distracts him while he’s cooking dinner — only ever clicking his tongue or making a noise of disapproval, placing a palm over your forearm. muttering little harmless grumbles of it’s like you want to get first degree oil burns.

you know that he loves you because you’re always the first to taste his food, without fail, the first person he goes to when he tries a new recipe. and you appreciate it, even when you joke about how honoured you are to test your king’s meals for poison. he quirks a brow and threatens to take the food away, sure, but then there’s always that one flicker of amusement in the amber of his eyes. 

you know because he grills his dumplings extra on both sides, just how you like it, because he forms his onigiri into pandas just to see you smile. because he knows how to make your perfect cup of coffee by heart, and refuses to use anything less than an absurdly expensive coffee machine, beans he grinded into powder with his own two hands. 

because he believes you deserve nothing but the best, nothing less than the finest delicacies this world has to offer. wholeheartedly.

you know that he loves you because it’s there. you can feel it, in every stolen glance, every slight smile when you finally dig in. you can feel it in the way the cutlet melts on your tongue, the way the bitter espresso runs down your throat, the warmth that blossoms in your chest when you catch him watching you with the faintest glimmer of a content smile. 

a silent declaration, a hymn you can always hear if you strain your ears enough —

i love you, i love you, i love you.