#I could go on and on. I love this song so much

[dazevi]

CHAPTER ONE: GHOST IN THE ROOM

heart to heart series | vi x fem!reader

synopsis: with the tour coming to an end, vi's manager insists on the band taking a break. meanwhile, you help your best friend, mel, with planning her wedding.

content warnings: MDNI. angst (lots of it), slightly suggestive, rockstar!vi, writer!reader, eventual exes to lovers (more like exes to fwb to lovers), no smut but mentions of sex, jaymel cameo, bestfriend!mel, time skips, mentions of alcohol and smoking

wc: 11,388 (about—i made some edits lol)

note: good morning!! (its morning where i am) this is my first time writing a series so feedback would be very much appreciated—would love to hear what you guys think!!! also i had some trouble deciding if i wanted to write jayvik or jaymel but i felt like mel would’ve been more fitting for reader to have as a best friend lol anyways here is the first chapter! i hope you all enjoy!!! (fanart by bunimint_ on ig)

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The hum of the venue echoed faintly through the backstage room, muffled by layers of concrete and steel.

The crowd had been electric tonight, their cheers and screams still ringing faintly in Vi’s ears as she sat on the small stool in front of a mirror. Her guitar sat propped against the brick wall behind her, its strings still vibrating in her memory from the final chords of the night. The air in the room smelled faintly of sweat and smoke, the residue of adrenaline and effort clinging to her skin.

The band was as much a family as it was a group of musicians. While Vi stands in front, Ekko was on lead guitar, the youngest of them but by far the most electric on stage, shredding solos and occasionally stepping up to rap when a song called for it. Then there was Steb on drums. He didn’t talk much, but he didn’t really need to. He was a crucial part of the band already and quite creative with his beats. And on bass was Loris, a big guy with a bigger heart, who filled every song with lines that could shake the floor of any venue.

But she was alone now, the rest of the band off celebrating the end of the tour, their laughter faint in the distance, just past the door. Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her—flushed cheeks, damp hair sticking to her temples, her tank top slightly wrinkled. Her chest rose and fell steadily, but her mind wasn’t calm.

Not really.

She reached up to push a strand of hair from her face when her fingers brushed against the cool silver chain around her neck.

Her hand stilled.

The necklace felt heavy on her neck as always, but she hardly thought about anymore.

Tonight, for some reason, it felt heavier. Vi tugged gently at it, pulling the necklace out from under her shirt to let it fall against her chest. They glimmered faintly in the dim backstage light, catching her eye like they always had.

She stared at them for a long moment, her throat tightening.

She hadn’t thought about it—about you—in a while.

Or… maybe that wasn’t true.

Maybe she’d just gotten better at pretending she didn’t.

But now, with the adrenaline of the stage fading away and the silence of the backstage room settling in, it hit her all over again.

Six years had passed since graduating high school. She remembers all the memories that came with it—that came with being with you—as if they happened yesterday.

But, three years.

It had been three years since the two of you had broken up, and Vi still couldn’t let go of this last piece of you. She told herself it was just a necklace, just a reminder of a time when life seemed simple, but deep down she knew it was more than that.

It was a lifeline to a past she hadn’t entirely made peace with—a time when the world didn’t feel quite so big, and her dreams hadn’t come at the cost of losing you.

She blinked at her reflection, her jaw tightening as her fingers played with the rings. The memories came flooding back despite her best efforts to push them down. The nights spent tangled up together in her room, the sound of your laugh as you teased her for pretending to know how to play certain songs when she wanted to impress you, the way you always smelled faintly of lavender and paper from all those books you carried around and loved so much. God, she could almost hear your voice if she closed her eyes, could almost feel the way your hands used to cup her face when you kissed her.

But you weren’t here. And you hadn’t been for years.

Vi exhaled shakily, letting the necklace fall back against her chest. She rubbed her hands over her face, her calloused fingers catching slightly on her damp skin.

She tried to tell herself this was what she wanted—what she had worked so hard for. The sold-out shows, the screaming fans, the endless crowds. It had been her dream for as long as she could remember.

But the truth was, none of it felt quite as fulfilling as she thought it would. Not without you.

The buzz of her phone on the dressing table broke her train of thought. She glanced at it, the screen lighting up with a text from Ekko reminding her to join them at the bar. She hesitated, her gaze drifting back to the mirror.

For a quick moment, she thought about it—thought about texting you. Maybe, calling you. Just to say hi. Just to hear your voice again, even if only through the cold distance of a phone call.

But she knew better. You had probably already moved on, or at least, you deserved to.

Vi stood slowly, adjusting the chain so it tucked back under her shirt, hidden from view. She ran a hand through her hair and grabbed her jacket, shrugging it on. As she walked out of the room, she felt the rings press lightly against her chest.

The party the next night was loud, chaotic, and everything it should have been to celebrate the end of a year-long tour. Vi found herself tucked into a corner of the room, a half-empty beer bottle in her hand as she watched her bandmates laugh and shout over the music. People swarmed around them—fans, industry suits, and a few familiar faces from the tour circuit.

It was exactly what she used to love, the kind of scene she’d dreamed about when she first picked up a guitar in her mom’s garage. But tonight, it all felt hollow.

She plastered on a grin when someone approached, making small talk she wouldn’t remember later, pretending the music wasn’t giving her a headache.

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the celebration. She should have been celebrating. A year long tour. Ninety shows. Sold-out venues in cities she never thought she’d even visit, let alone play in.

But now that it was over, the rush was fading.

Vi’s manager had pulled the band aside after the final show, giving them a rundown of what came next.

Or rather, what didn’t come next.

“You’ve earned it,” the manager had said, looking around at the group. “Take a break. Go home. Recharge. You’ve been going non-stop for years. You deserve this.”

Home. The word lingered in Vi’s mind. It felt heavy and unfamiliar.

She sipped her beer and glanced around the party again. Everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives, but Vi felt detached, like she was watching it all through a screen.

The truth was, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do now. This band, for the time being, had been her life. The shows, the music, the adrenaline—it all kept her moving forward, kept her distracted.

But now? Now she was being told to stop.

Her fingers brushed against the chain around her neck, hidden beneath her shirt. She’d done it out of habit, her thumb grazing the spot where the rings rested against her skin. She swallowed hard, her jaw tightening as she felt some sort of pain swell in her chest. She pushed it down, forcing herself to focus on the noise and the people around her.

When a girl caught her eye across the room—pretty, confident, the kind of girl who wouldn’t ask too many questions—Vi didn’t hesitate.

She let the girl take her hand and pull her upstairs to some empty room in the penthouse suite. It was mechanical by now, second nature. She knew what to say, where to touch, how to make it seem like she was present when, in truth, her mind was somewhere else.

Or rather, with someone else.

It always ended the same way.

Vi closed her eyes, and it was you. There was no one else she could think of other than you.

It didn’t help that every time she hovered over someone else, her necklace would dangle just in front of her, and she’d look down and catch a glimpse of you beneath her, all pretty and waiting, with eyes full of love and warmth—the very eyes she fell in love with again and again. Every laugh, every touch, every kiss—it was you she conjured up in her mind.

But it never lasted.

Reality always came crashing back when the girl whispered her name in a way that had no effect on her or when she clung to her a little too tightly, too roughly.

When it was over, Vi sat silently by the bed, pulling on her shirt, avoiding eye contact.

“Can you stay?” the girl asked softly.

“No,” Vi shook her head, grabbing her jacket. She never stayed. She never left her number. And she never looked back.

Walking out into the cold night air, Vi lit a cigarette with trembling hands.

She thought about you—again. She thought about the way you used to smile at her, how your fingers used to trail through her hair when she rested her head in your lap, how you’d call her name so softly that it felt like she was listening to her favorite song. The ache in her chest was unbearable, but it was the only thing that reminded her she was still alive.

Since the breakup, Vi had grown bitter, the world feeling heavier with each passing day. She hadn’t felt truly happy in years, hadn’t laughed the way she used to.

So she buried herself into anything that could distract her—work, music, and nights like this one.

But it was useless.

Because no matter how far she ran, how many strangers she kissed, or how loud the music played, she always had you in her mind.

Always you. Only you.

To the little town she used to call home. To the life she’d walked away from when she chose this one.

And for the first time in a long time, Vi wasn’t sure she’d made the right choice.

The chime of the bell above the flower shop door rang faintly as a customer left, and you glanced up from where you sat behind the counter, absentmindedly wrapping a bouquet of daisies in soft brown paper. The shop smelled sweet and earthy—comforting in a way that nothing else had been for the past few years.

It had been your mom’s idea for you to work here after you graduated college, though you hadn’t exactly protested. It was a nice job to have. Stress free. Relaxing. Arranging flowers, chatting with customers, and helping with orders had its own kind of peace.

You figured it would be nice way to pass some time while saving up money for your own shop—a book shop.

But some time has passed now, and all you’ve got to do is find the courage to go downtown and lease out that nice empty spot by the town gardens.

But, you decide to put that off for next month. Maybe after the wedding.

Your degree in literature had been the culmination of years of dreaming, of late nights spent pouring over books and writing short stories that no one else ever read. And for a while, everything felt like it was falling into place. That book—the one you poured your soul into, the one that had felt like ripping your heart out to write—had done surprisingly well. It wasn’t a bestseller, but it had been enough. Enough to make you believe you were on the right path, to reassure you that the sacrifices had been worth it.

But now, the blank pages in your notebook always stared back at you, mocking. The words didn’t come as easily as they used to. It wasn’t writer’s block, not exactly—it was something deeper. A lack of fire, you called it. And you told yourself that the flower shop was just a temporary stop, a place to regroup until the inspiration came back.

But part of you worried it never would.

As you finished tying a ribbon around the bouquet, your gaze drifted to the small bookshelf by the window. Copies of your book sat there, stacked neatly, the cover facing out. Your mom kept them in stock, proud and supportive as always, even if the sight of them made you wince. Every time you looked at it, you remembered how much of yourself you’d poured into that story—how you’d been told it was heartbreaking and beautiful, and yet writing it had felt like stitching up a wound that refused to heal.

You always tried not to think about who had inspired it.

But of course, you failed. You always did.

Some days, it was easier to pretend that part of your life hadn’t happened, to bury it under layers of routine and busy nights. Other days, it hit you out of nowhere—a song on the radio, a laugh in a movie, the way a stranger’s voice pitched just so.

And suddenly, you’d be back there.

Back to her.

The chime of the bell rang again, snapping you out of your thoughts as a new customer stepped in. You forced a polite smile, brushing your hands against your apron. The shop was warm and safe, a place where you could hide from the rest of the world.

But somewhere out there, the rest of the world kept moving—just as it had for Vi.

You remembered the day you saw that headline.

You hadn’t expected to see it, but there it was—Violet Lanes Spotted Dining With Famous Actress Caitlyn Kiramman—in bold, glaring letters across the entertainment news section of your phone screen.

The date on the article was just two weeks after your breakup, and it felt like the universe had decided to make sure you never forgot. You could still remember the way your heart sank as you read it, like the air was suddenly sucked out of your lungs, leaving you breathless and dizzy.

You’d known about Vi’s fame, how it grew quickly when she started making music professionally, of course—how could you not? She was a rockstar, her face plastered everywhere, her name trending almost daily.

But this… this was different.

Caitlyn Kiramman was an actress with a reputation that preceded her, a star on a different level entirely. Vi was supposed to be with you—at least, you thought so, at the time. But as you read through the details, the pictures of Vi smiling across the table at Caitlyn, her arm casually draped around the actress’s shoulders, something inside you snapped. It was the first time, in the aftermath of everything, that you’d truly felt like you’d lost her.

You tried to dismiss the burning ache in your chest. After all, you hadn’t exactly been an innocent party in your breakup. You had your reasons for walking away, too.

But seeing Vi so effortlessly move on, laughing and drinking wine with someone like Caitlyn—someone who could stand next to her in the spotlight without being swallowed by it—hit you harder than you expected.

It wasn’t jealousy, not really.

It was just you realizing that Vi had stepped into a world without you, just as you had stepped into one without her.

You thought about calling her, but you didn’t.

The last time you’d spoken, you’d said what needed to be said, even if it hadn’t felt like it at the time. You had told yourself you were better off, that you deserved more than being constantly second place to her career.

You didn’t want to call. Instead, you buried yourself in your work, threw yourself into your job, and started writing stories that felt too hollow to ever really be finished. You kept your distance from everything that reminded you of her, trying to forget the feeling of her hand in yours, the sound of her voice when she’d whisper your name in that low, raspy tone that made your heart flutter.

Maybe Vi was happy. Maybe she had found someone else who could give her the things you couldn’t. The thought hit you harder than it should, but you couldn’t stop it.

You thought about the necklace—the one Vi had worn, the one that had been yours too, back in high school. Your fingers traced the small silver chain around your neck, the one you hadn’t taken off since that night you two shared it.

Had she kept hers? You wondered, for the briefest second, if she still thought about you.

But you had no way of knowing. You hadn’t heard from her in years, and you had convinced yourself that it was for the best.

The familiar sound of the bell above the shop’s door jingled softly as your mom stepped out from the back room, balancing a couple of boxes in her arms. She looked like she’d been at it for hours, strands of her hair falling from the bun on top of her head.

“Sweetheart,” she said, setting the boxes down on the counter with a thud. “Mel’s going to call about the flowers soon. You know how particular she can be about the arrangements.”

You sighed, pausing mid-wrap on a bouquet of white roses and eucalyptus.

“I know, Mom,” you muttered, though you couldn’t quite keep the smile off your face.

Mel had been one of your closest friends since high school, and if anyone had a reason to be particular, it was her. She deserved the perfect wedding, after all.

“She’s already called three times this week about those centerpieces. I’m pretty sure I know her vision better than she does at this point.”

Your mom laughed softly, brushing her hands on her apron. “She’s just excited. It’s a big day.”

She gave you a knowing look, the kind that said she wasn’t just talking about Mel.

Before you could respond, the phone behind the counter buzzed, cutting through the silence of the shop. You reached for it instinctively, already knowing who it would be.

“I swear, she has a sixth sense for these things,” you mumbled as you picked up the receiver.

“Hello, Lane Florals, how can I help—”

“Don’t even start with the formalities, I know it’s you,” came Mel’s voice, bright and slightly exasperated on the other end. “And I know I’ve already called you a million times this week, but I need to talk about the bouquets again. Jayce thinks we’re good, but I’m having second thoughts about the hydrangeas.”

You let out a dramatic groan, though you couldn’t help the laugh that followed. “Mel, you’ve gotta stop stressing. You’re going to make me go gray before your wedding day. What’s wrong with the hydrangeas now?”

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed. “I just feel like they don’t have the right… feeling. Maybe we should go with lilies? Or peonies? Or—oh! Do you think we could mix in some sunflowers? Jayce looooves sunflowers.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, glancing over at your mom, who was now suppressing a grin as she watered the potted plants by the window.

“Mel, we’re two weeks away from the wedding,” you said gently. “If we keep changing things, you’re not going to have any flowers at all.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Mel sighed dramatically. “You’re right. Ugh, you’re right. I’m just overthinking it. I’m sorry, I’ll stop being such a pain your ass.”

“You’re not a pain,” you said, softening. “You’re just… a perfectionist. But it’s all going to be perfect, I promise. The hydrangeas are beautiful, and they’re going to look amazing with everything else. Trust me. I’ll throw in some sunflowers, too, for Jayce.”

Mel let out a small, relieved laugh. “Thanks, babe. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Lose your mind, probably,” you teased, leaning back against the counter. “But seriously, you’re going to be fine. And as your maid of honor, I think you should take my advice and roll with it.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, and you could hear the smile in her voice. “Oh, and don’t forget, you promised to help me with the seating chart this weekend.”

“I know, I know,” you assured her, though the thought of wrangling that seating chart made you want to pour yourself a strong drink. “I’ll see you Saturday, okay?”

“Okay. Love you!” she said quickly before hanging up.

You set the phone down with a sigh, turning to your mom, who was now watching you with an amused expression. “Hydrangeas again?” she asked.

“Hydrangeas,” you confirmed with a laugh, shaking your head. “I swear, if I hear the word one more time, I’m going to lose it.”

But despite the teasing, you felt nothing but warmth for Mel. She was one of the few people who had stuck by you through everything, and seeing her so happy with Jayce was something you couldn’t begrudge, no matter how stressful wedding planning had become.

You glanced at the calendar on the wall, your thoughts drifting briefly, as they so often did, to Vi.

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

At least, that’s what Vi had told you when she kissed you goodbye at the airport years ago, both of you standing on the edge of the new chapter—her with her band’s first big break, and you heading off to college.

She had cupped your face, her calloused hands warm against your cheeks, and promised, “We’ll make it work. You and me, we’re solid, baby. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

But it did.

You used to call everyday. Text everyday. It was so often that Vi would fall asleep on the phone every night, to the sound of your voice, telling her how much you missed her. You’d do the same, too.

But the calls that used to stretch into the early hours of the morning grew shorter and less frequent.

At first, Vi always made time for you, even if she was in the middle of nowhere, some dingy tour bus parked at a rest stop. She’d stay on the line, her gravelly voice cutting through the static as she told you about the show that night or the funny thing Ekko had done to annoy Steb. And you’d tell her about your classes, your professors, the friends you were making in your lit program. She also always used to mention you in interviews when people would ask the band if they were single or whatever.

And Vi would always say, “I’ve actually got a girl waiting for me back at home,” with cheekiest smile she could throw on.

For a while, it was enough.

But then the band’s success started to pick up, and Vi’s world got louder, busier. The calls started to come later and later—or sometimes not at all.

You’d stay up, staring at your phone, waiting for it to ring, only to wake up hours later with an empty inbox and a dull ache in your chest.

And the texts? They dwindled too.

You used to send each other everything—pictures, inside jokes, songs that reminded you of each other.

Days would pass before you’d hear from her. And when you did, it was always rushed. A quick voice message, “Sorry, babe, crazy day. Miss you, though. Love you,” followed by radio silence for the rest of the week.

You tried to understand. You really did.

You knew how much this meant to her, how hard she’d worked to get where she was. You were proud of her, more than you could ever put into words.

But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

One night, you were in your dorm room, sitting at your desk with a stack of notes and an unfinished essay in front of you, your phone balanced precariously on the edge. Vi had promised to call after a show—it had been over two weeks since you’d last spoken properly—but the clock was inching toward midnight, and there was still no word.

When the phone finally buzzed, you snatched it up, your heart pounding. “Vi?”

Her voice came through the line, raspy and tired. “Hey, baby. Sorry, show ran late.”

“It’s okay,” you lied, sinking back into your chair. “How was it?”

She sighed, and you could hear the exhaustion in it. “Good. Crowd was wild. But I’m beat.”

There was a pause, one that stretched too long, too heavy. You could feel the distance between you, the miles and the time zones and the weeks of missed calls.

“I miss you,” you said softly, your voice breaking a little.

“I miss you too,” she said, but it sounded automatic, like something she’d said a thousand times before—who are you kidding? She probably has.

You wanted to ask her why she hadn’t called, why it felt like you were slipping further and further apart.

But the words caught in your throat.

Instead, you said, “When are you coming home?”

“Uh…” Another pause. Then, “I don’t know, babe. Not for a while.”

It felt like a punch to the gut.

“Right,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’m sorry,” she added quickly, like she could sense your disappointment in her. “It’s just… everything’s so crazy right now. But I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Okay.”

When the call ended, you stared at your phone for a long time, tears blurring your vision. Vi had always been your safe place. But at that time, it felt like she was slipping away, and no matter how tightly you held on, you couldn’t stop it.

And Vi felt it too.

She hated the way things were between you, the way she could hear the hurt in your voice even when you tried to hide it. She wanted to fix it, to drop everything, fly to you and hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay.

But the truth was, she didn’t know if it would be.

Because no matter how much you loved each other, the distance was pulling you apart. And neither of you knew how to stop it.

NOVEMBER, THREE YEARS AGO.

It had been months since you’d last seen her—months that felt like years. You’d tried to bury yourself in your studies, keeping busy so you didn’t have to think about the loneliness she left behind with you.

But then your phone rang one rainy afternoon, and when Vi’s name flashed on the screen, you hesitated for only a moment before answering.

“Hey,” you said softly, curling up on your bed as you balanced the phone against your ear.

“Hey, babe,” she replied, her voice a little hoarse, like she’d been yelling or maybe singing too much. “How’s school?”

“It’s… fine,” you said, trying to keep your tone neutral.

You wanted to tell her everything—how much you missed her, how hard it was to fall asleep without her voice in your ear—but you swallowed the words.

“What are you up to?” You asked, bringing a hand up to rub the side of your neck.

“Nothing, right now… I’m in bed. I just finished up at the studio,” she said quietly. “It ran pretty late so…”

“Are you doing okay?”

You hear her take a breath before sighing softly, “Yeah, I’m… I just miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you echoed.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then she said, “I was thinking… I want you to come to New York.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “New York?”

“Yeah. The band got invited to this award show. It’s kind of a big deal, I guess. I—I want you to be my date.”

Your stomach twisted at the invitation. You could hear the hope in her voice, and for a second, all you wanted to do was say yes. But then reality set in.

“Vi, I don’t know. I have finals coming up, and plane tickets are—”

“Will be taken care of,” she interrupted quickly. “I’ll handle it, everything. Just say yes.”

“Vi…”

“I wanna see you,” she said, and her voice was soft, almost pleading. It caught you off guard. “Please. It’s been too long. I miss you.”

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the wall, and sighed.

It was always hard to say no to Vi.

“Okay,” you murmured. “I’ll come.”

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice brightening.

“Yeah.”

The next few weeks all happened too quickly.

Vi arranged everything—a plane ticket, a car to pick you up from the airport, even a dress for the event. You didn’t know how she’d managed it all, but you weren’t surprised. She could practically do anything she sets her mind to.

When you stepped off the plane and into the terminal, you were expecting to just follow the signs to baggage claim, look for the driver Vi had mentioned in passing, and quietly make your way to whatever fancy hotel she had booked for you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate her effort—Vi always went all out when it came to you—but you figured this was just another one of those things she couldn’t be present for, one more event she’d planned out from a distance.

But when you rounded the corner toward the arrivals area, your feet froze mid-step.

There she was.

Vi was standing near the entrance, her tall frame wrapped in an all-black outfit. A long black coat hung open over a fitted turtleneck and dark jeans, her combat boots planted firmly on the tiled floor. In her hands, she held a small bouquet of flowers—white daisies and a few pale pink roses wrapped in simple brown paper.

She looked every bit the rockstar she’d become, yet look on her face told a different story.

Her eyes scanned the crowd eagerly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the paper wrapping as though she were nervous.

Your breath hitched, and tears prickled at the corners of your eyes.

For a moment, you couldn’t move.

Then Vi’s eyes found yours.

Her face lit up like the sun breaking through a storm, and before you could even process what was happening, she was running toward you. Her long strides closed the distance in seconds, and then she was there—her arms wrapping tightly around you, pulling you into her chest.

“Hey, baby,” she whispered against your hair.

You couldn’t respond.

Your throat was too tight, and the only thing you could do was cling to her, burying your face in her neck as the tears spilled over. The flowers were crushed slightly between your bodies, but neither of you cared. Vi’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, holding you like she was afraid you might disappear.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands cupping your face as she scanned your features like she needed to memorize them all over again.

She let out a breathy sigh, a smile making its way onto her face, “God, you’re even prettier than I remember.”

You let out a watery laugh, wiping at your cheeks with trembling fingers.

“Shut up,” you teased, though your voice wavered.

Vi grinned, a little sheepishly, and handed you the now slightly crumpled bouquet. “These are for you. Sorry, I think I crushed them a little.”

“They’re perfect,” you said, taking the flowers and holding them close to your chest.

She smiled again, softer this time, and reached out to take your suitcase.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. We can go get lunch after the hotel. I know a place you might like.”

And for the first time in a long while, being with her finally felt right.

The weekend passed like something out of a dream. Vi stuck close to you, almost glued to your side, like she couldn’t bear to let go of you for even a second. She carried your bags, opened every door, kissed you in every private corner she could find.

In the the hotel room, with the city skyline stretching endlessly outside the window, she kissed you until her lips felt bruised, like she was trying to make up for every kiss she hadn’t been able to give you.

She made love to you slowly, tenderly, the way you deserved—whispering soft words against your skin, brushing stray strands of hair from your face, as if she couldn’t believe you were there with her.

“God, I missed you,” she murmured over and over again, her voice thick and quiet, spilling out each time her lips found yours. “I missed you so much.”

And it wasn’t just the being this close to you that left Vi breathless—it was everything else.

The way your laugh filled the room when she cracked a joke. The way you shyly tucked your head into her shoulder when she kissed your temple in public. The way your voice softened when you told her you missed her, that you loved her. Vi felt like she was relearning you, rediscovering all the tiny details she’d loved about you from the start—the way your fingertips felt trailing down her arm, the way you hummed absentmindedly when you were happy, the way you fit perfectly in her arms like you’d been made for her.

For once, Vi wasn’t thinking about work, about the band, about the next tour or the endless cycle of interviews and late-night rehearsals.

None of that mattered here.

The world felt smaller, quieter, when it was just the two of you.

She couldn’t believe how much she’d missed you, how much she’d missed this.

As the weekend was drawing to a close, you were lying in bed together, your head resting on her chest. Vi traced lazy circles along your shoulder with her fingertips, her other hand draped protectively across your waist. The sheets were tangled around your bare legs, the city lights painting soft, dim patterns on the walls.

“I forgot what this feels like,” Vi had said, her voice almost a whisper. “Just… being with you. I missed it.”

You tilted your head to look up at her, your eyes warm and full of something she couldn’t quite name.

“Me too,” you said softly, your hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face.

Vi leaned down to kiss you again slowly, her hand cradling your jaw.

She wanted to stay in this moment forever, to bottle it up and carry it with her wherever she went.

Being with you, she wasn’t worried about the distance, about the time apart, about anything other than you.

But happiness like that didn’t last for long and, tomorrow, it would all go to shit.

The night of the music award show was everything Vi had hoped it would be, glimmering lights, and flashing cameras. She could hardly contain her pride as she stood beside you, her arm around your waist, guiding you through. Everything had been planned, from your dress to the after-party, and it seemed like everything was falling into place.

You looked stunning in the dress she had picked out for you. It was a deep shade of red that hugged your body in all the right places, with delicate lace detailing along the neckline that made your girlfriend want to cover your collarbone with kisses. Vi couldn’t take her eyes off you when she first saw you in it. She kept telling you how beautiful you looked, her voice filled with awe every time she caught a glimpse of you.

You had always been beautiful in Vi’s eyes, but tonight, you looked like someone straight out of a dream, her dreams. She felt a pride swell up inside her every time she looked at you, like the world had never seemed brighter, knowing that you, her girl, were beside her.

But despite how nice it was all going, it wasn’t without its discomforts for you.

There were moments when you felt too out of place in the spotlight, when the flashing of cameras made your chest tighten, or when you were pulled away from Vi to stand beside some celebrities for interviews, your smile feeling stiff and forced. Every time you were apart from her, even for a moment, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of loneliness, wanting to be close to her again.

The show itself went smoothly, though.

Vi did her thing and you watched from the sidelines, starstruck and completely in awe. It was so surreal to see her like this, her bandmates by her side, to see other celebrities you watched from home, the crowd cheering for her every time her name was called. She looked radiant. And it was hard to not feel overwhelmed by it all.

But the further the night dragged on, the more it felt like you were losing her to this new world.

You felt more of it at the after party. Vi had been swept away by a group of celebrities who wanted to talk to her, leaving you standing alone at the bar.

Ekko noticed and came over to keep you company, but it still wasn’t the same. He asked about how things were at home, mentioned how much he missed eating Benzo’s cooking. And it was nice talking to him—nice to have a friend around who didn’t feel too far into the fame as everyone else did in the room.

As you leaned against the bar, nursing your drink, you found your eyes wandering back to Vi, standing across the room, laughing and chatting with some famous actress, her hand resting on her arm. She looked completely at ease, her eyes sparkling as she talked with the other guests.

But it was clear that you that were nothing more than a bystander to her world now.

Ekko’s voice snapped you out of your daze. “You okay?” he asked, noticing your distracted expression.

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… a bit tired, I guess.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “You sure? Vi looks like she’s having a blast. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

You smiled again, though it felt hollow. “Yeah, she always has a way of talking to people, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she does,” Ekko agreed, grinning. “But you know she’s really happy to have you here tonight. She’s always talking about you. Can’t get her to shut up about you sometimes.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, but it faded almost as quickly as it appeared.

You stand there, drink in hand, feeling an odd tension settle in your chest as you watch Vi across the room. She’s talking to someone—a tall woman, all legs and sharp angles, with dark blue hair that catches the light in an almost ethereal way. The way the actress moves, the way she laughs—effortless, magnetic, like she’s always been in the spotlight.

You’ve seen her before, vaguely—magazines, red carpets, maybe a movie trailer. She’s the kind of woman people can’t help but stare at. Perfectly polished, perfectly poised.

And there’s Vi, her face bright with a smile you once thought was reserved just for you. But now, as she stands there, chatting easily, you feel like a ghost in the room, watching from the sidelines.

Your fingers tighten around your glass, but you don’t move. You can’t.

It’s strange, this feeling that tightens your chest, this longing and bitterness you can’t seem to shake. Vi’s laugh carries over through the party, and for a moment, you close your eyes, remembering when you were the one who made her laugh like that. When you were the one who kissed that smile from her lips.

But it all feels so far away now.

The more you watch them, the more out of place you feel.

The more you look at Vi, the more she seems to belong in this world—this world of lights and flashes, of perfect strangers who all seem to know exactly who they are, exactly where they fit.

And you?

You’re still standing in the corner of this room, feeling like you’re made of something that doesn’t belong, something that’s too small for this space.

You swallow, trying to force down the lump in your throat.

It’s stupid, you know it’s stupid.

You’re just a girl from a small town with college exams coming up and some books you wrote.

Nothing glamorous.

And Vi—Vi’s everything you aren’t. She’s out here, living the life you never had the guts to chase. You can’t even blame her for it. She’s been nothing but amazing, talented and hardworking, giving you so much of herself, even when it all felt too complicated.

But seeing her like this, only reminds you of how out of place you feel now, in her world, in this world.

“I… I think I’m just gonna get some fresh air,” you say quietly.

You excuse yourself from Ekko, offering him a small smile as you slip away from the conversation. You need air—fresh, cool, anything to clear the thoughts that have taken root in your mind.

You take the elevator down to the ground floor, your heels clicking softly on the polished floors. The doors open with a soft ding, and you step out, immediately greeted by the cool bite of the night air. It’s a entirely different compared to the warmth of the party inside, and for a moment, it feels like a relief, like you can finally breathe without the walls of the venue pressing in on you.

The city lights glow in the distance, the hustle of traffic and the low hum of conversations from nearby streets filled your ears. You pull your coat tighter around you, the fabric clinging to your shoulders, but it doesn’t do much to shield you from the knot tightening in your chest.

You stand there for a moment, breathing deeply. The cool air is refreshing, but it can’t seem to cool the heat rising in your cheeks, the bitter ache in your stomach. Everything about it reminds you of how far things have come—and how far apart you and Vi have drifted.

You didn’t want to feel this way tonight. You didn’t want to spend another evening consumed by jealousy, by doubt.

But here you are, standing outside in the dark, unable to fight the feeling.

You really hadn’t expected it to be this hard.

Maybe it’s silly to think you could���ve ever fit into that world.

But the truth stings.

You want things to be different. You want to be the one she looks at, the one she chooses. But everything about tonight has made you feel like that’s something you’ll never be again.

You look up at the sky, the stars barely visible through the city’s haze, and for a moment, you close your eyes, letting the cold air fill your lungs.

You wish things were different. You wish you could go back to when you were everything to each other.

But you can’t.

Not anymore.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Vi’s voice cuts through your train of thought.

She must have slipped out unnoticed, and now, there she is, standing behind you. Her arms come around your waist, pulling you closer, her front pressed against your back. Her chin rests gently on your shoulder, her breath tickling the back of your neck.

“Hi, baby,” she muttered quietly.

You want to speak, to tell her how you feel, how the space between you both is only growing wider.

But the words stick in your throat.

Vi stays there, waiting for you, her body warm against yours. Her hands move from your waist, softly tracing over your arms, gently coaxing you into the safety of her touch, even though you don’t know how safe it feels anymore.

For a moment, all you can do is breathe, just breathe, feeling her arms around you… as if it’s the last time you’ll feel it.

When you do finally speak, it’s quieter than you intend, barely above a whisper. “Vi, I think we… I think we should stop this.”

Vi stiffens behind you, her hands pausing on your skin.

You can feel her heart rate quicken slightly. But she doesn’t pull away.

Instead, she presses closer, her breath brushing your ear as she whispers, “What are you talking about?”

She holds you tighter, and for a brief second, you feel the urge to give in to her touch, to forget the mess in your head.

But it’s not enough anymore.

You try to speak again, but your words come out jumbled, like you’re struggling to find the right pieces to fit together.

“I… I don’t know. We’re not the same anymore.” You let out a shaky breath, frustrated with yourself for not being able to explain the mess of feelings inside your chest. “It’s like we’re just… strangers now. I can’t keep pretending it’s the same, Vi.”

Vi’s hands stay on your waist, but you feel her pause for a moment. She pulls back just a little, enough to look at you, but not enough to fully let go.

You can hear the uncertainty in her voice when she speaks, “What? It’s still us. You and me. I—” She swallows, and you can hear the faint tremor in her words. “I thought we were okay.”

You shake your head, your chest tight.

“We’re not. We haven’t been for a while. And, I can’t tell if you even notice. Do you? You’re… you’re so far away, and I’m just… here.” The pain in your voice stings, but it feels like it’s the only truth you have left. “And I don’t know how to make it work anymore. I don’t know how to feel close to you when you’re a million miles away all the time.”

Vi’s arms move again, but this time, they’re softer, as if she’s afraid you’ll break under her touch.

“Don’t say that. I-I do notice. I do. I know it’s been a bit rough lately, but we can fix this… right? We’ve always been able to fix things before.” She tries to lighten the air, a little laugh escaping her lips as if she’s trying to erase the tension in the air. “I-I promise to call more, baby, please—”

But it doesn’t reach you.

You step back from her, the space between you both growing with each step, and for the first time in so long, you feel something other than the ache in your chest. It’s cold, too cold, and the distance feels like it’s swallowing you whole.

Vi’s arms drop at her sides, her hands twitching as if she doesn’t know what to do with them.

She watches you carefully, her eyes wide as you move away. When she tries to move closer, you flinch. It’s instinct, something you didn’t mean to do, but you can’t help it. You just need space.

And Vi hates it.

“I wanna go home,” you say, your voice shaking with the everything you’ve been trying to ignore, trying to bury.

Vi’s smile falters, her brows furrow as she processes your words. She takes a small step toward you, the panic creeping into her voice. “O-Okay. I-I’ll call a cab and we can go back to the hotel and—“

You cut her off before she can finish, your heart hammering in your chest. “No, Vi. I want to go back home. I don’t… I don’t belong here with you.”

The ring in her ears and as soon as they leave your lips, you can see the color drain from Vi’s face. Her breath catches in her throat, and you watch her, eyes wide, disbelief settling in. She furrows her eyebrows, her entire posture faltering as she tries to process what you just said.

“What?” she whispers.

She takes a shaky breath, her gaze searching your face, looking for any sign that this might be some kind of cruel joke, some kind of misunderstanding.

But you can’t give her that. You can’t pretend anymore.

“I just…” you start, but the words get caught in your throat, like you’re suffocating on them. You look at her, at the girl you once knew better than anyone else, and you realize that you’re not the same person anymore. “I thought I could keep pretending, but I can’t. And… I-I don’t see how we can change anything right now. I’m sorry, I—”

Vi opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She just stares at you, like she’s trying to wrap her mind around what’s happening, and in her silence, you hear all the things you can’t say.

The tears begin yo roll down your cheeks and Vi wants to wipe them away immediately, wants to take all that pain you’re feeling away for good… but…

“I need to go home,” you whisper again, this time your voice firmer, because if you don’t say it again, you might never leave.

And the look in her eyes—this heartbreaking, raw pain that flits across her face—makes your heart shatter even more.

Because you never wanted to hurt her.

But you’re not sure how to fix any of this. How to find your way back when it feels like everything between you two has crumbled into dust.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, but the words feel so small. So insignificant.

Vi doesn’t say anything at first, just stands there, frozen in place. She swallows hard, her lips trembling as she finally finds her voice.

“I thought we were… I thought you wanted to be with me.”

“I always want to be with you, I do, but this—” you bring a hand up, wiping your cheeks quickly. “What did you think was gonna to happen after this weekend’s over? That we’d have a great time here together, then everything would be okay? All of our problems aren’t just magically gonna disappear, Vi… You barely call. You barely text. And I’ll go back home and you’ll stay here and I… What, I won’t see you again for another four—five months? I-I cant be in a relationship with someone who—fuck, with someone who can’t even really be with me. And I don’t want to make you choose. I can’t make you choose but, Vi…”

Her eyes widen in panic, her face twisting with desperation.

“Don’t say that. I-I can fix this. We can fix this, baby, just—” she starts, her voice broken, her words faltering, as though she’s trying to pull something, anything, to make things right.

“Stop it, Violet,” you say quiet.

“No, no, just—just tell me what to do,” she says. She’s shaking, but it’s not the gentle tremor of someone trying to hold it together. It’s raw. It’s frantic. “Tell me what I need to do to, please—”

You stand your ground, feeling the anger swell within you as her frustration starts to mirror your own.

“Stop it.”

“I love you.”

You freeze. Your heart skips a beat, and for a split second, you wonder if she’s right, if there’s a chance, if somehow everything can go back to how it used to be.

But then the reality sets in.

“Are you happy with me, Vi?” You ask.

Vi looks at you and furrows her brows, confused at the question, “Of course, I am—”

“You’re happy with the way things are right now? Really?”

Vi freezes, the words caught in her throat. The certainty she usually wears like armor slips away.

“You’re happy with how far apart we always are? You’re happy that we barely talk anymore? That we don’t have time for each other anymore? T-That when I go home, you’ll forget all about me until you suddenly remember that you have a girlfriend miles and miles away, just waiting for you to call or pick up your damn phone?”

“I…” she stammers, her brow furrowing as she tries to find the right thing to say, but nothing feels right. She’s taken aback, not just by your question but by the realization behind it—the way your words cut through the illusion that she’s been clinging to, that everything is okay.

The silence between you stretches for so long and Vi fucking hates it. She hates the way you’re looking at her, as if you already know the answer she’s too afraid to give. Because deep down, she knows she’s not happy—not with the distance, not with the missed calls and the half-hearted promises, not with the way she’s been letting you slip away.

But admitting that feels like admitting defeat, like saying out loud that she’s failing you, failing this.

“I—” she tries again, but she looks away, her jaw tightening. “I’m sorry.”

She wants to say that she’s happy, that you’re enough, that she wouldn’t trade this for anything—but the truth is, she doesn’t even know what this is anymore either.

And by the look in your eyes, neither do you.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, before opening them again to look up at her. Your hand reaches up, trembling slightly, and cups Vi’s cheek. Her skin is warm, damp from the tears she didn’t realize had fallen until now. The moment your palm makes contact, Vi leans into it instinctively. Her eyes flutter closed, and her shoulders quake as she lets out the softest, most broken sound—a quiet sob she tries to hide but can’t.

“Don’t,” she whispers, shaky and fragile. “Please…”

You don’t pull your hand away. Instead, your thumb brushes along the line of her cheekbone, and how gentle you were with her makes her cry harder. She feels your breath, and she hates how much she craves you, hates how much it hurts.

You swallow hard, the sound of your barely louder than a breath as you say, “This isn’t good for us.”

Vi’s eyes snap open, bloodshot and wide, her lips parting in disbelief. For a second, she freezes, the words not fully sinking in, like her brain refuses to process them.

“We should stop,” you say again, softer this time. Your hand is still on her cheek, and Vi clings to it, her larger hand wrapping around yours as though she could keep you there forever. “We’re hurting each other, Violet. We’ve been hurting each other for a while now.”

“No,” Vi pleads, shaking her head, her voice so weak you could barely hear her as she presses harder into your touch, desperate. “I don’t wanna stop. Please, just—let me fix this—”

You shake your head, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep the tears at bay, though they’re already blurring your vision.

“It’s not about fixing anything, Vi. We’re just in two completely different places and…” Your voice falters for a moment, breaking. “…and it’s not working for us.”

Vi’s breath hitches, and the hand gripping yours starts to tremble.

“I don’t know how to—” Her voice cracks, and she looks down, her tears falling freely onto the ground. “I don’t know how to do any of this this without you.”

Your heart clenches painfully, and for a fleeting second, you want to take it all back. You lean down slightly, pressing your forehead to hers, closing your eyes.

“Yeah, you do,” you whisper, the words like a final goodbye. “You’ve been doing all of this without me already.”

She shakes her head softly, “That’s not true.”

Vi’s breath comes out shaky, her tears mingling with yours as she presses herself closer, trying to savor the moment, to memorize the feel of you before it slips away entirely.

“I love you,” she says, words trembling as if the words are the last lifeline she has left to offer.

She watches you closely, her wide, teary eyes searching yours, desperate for something—anything—to tell her this isn’t the end.

But you don’t say it back right away.

And for those few agonizing seconds, the silence feels suffocating. Vi’s heart pounds painfully in her chest, and a lump forms in her throat, threatening to choke her. Her lips part to say something, to plead again, but before she can, you finally speak.

“I love you, Violet.”

It’s everything Vi wanted to hear, but as soon as the words leave your lips, they cut deeper than any silence ever could. There’s a softness to your voice, a finality in the way you say it, and Vi knows.

She knows what it means, what you’re trying to say without saying it outright.

And it hurts so fucking bad.

Her breath catches, and her hands drop slightly from where they’d been holding you, as if the weight of the words has drained her strength.

She shakes her head, voice cracking as she stammers, “Don’t say it like that.”

You look at her with so much tenderness it almost shatters her completely, but it’s that softness that makes it clear you’ve already made up your mind.

“Vi,” you whisper, and the way you say her name only makes the tears come faster.

She hates it. She hates how much of a goodbye it sounds.

“I love you so much,” she says, words breaking, barely audible now.

But even as the words leave her mouth, she knows they’re futile. She knows that no matter how much she loves you, no matter how much she tries to hold on, she can’t stop you from slipping through her fingers.

And for the first time, the love she’s always clung to feels hollow, like it’s not enough to keep you here.

Like she’s already lost you.

After a moment, you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to Vi’s cheek, the warmth of your lips lingering on her skin.

Vi closes her eyes at the touch, savoring it, even though something deep inside her tells her this is the last time. She wants to hold onto it, to freeze this moment, to make you stay just a little longer. But you’re already stepping back, pulling away from her reach.

“I’m gonna head back to the hotel,” you say quietly.

Vi nods instinctively, her breath catching in her throat as she responds, “I’ll go with you.”

Just a little more time, she thinks. She just wants whatever time she could get with you. Her voice is so weak under her breath, but she takes a step forward, already moving to follow, to stay by your side no matter what.

But then you stop her.

You place a hand up between you—not to push her away, but enough to keep her there, frozen in place. And when she sees the look in your eyes, Vi feels the first crack split through her chest.

“I’ll be okay,” you say softly. “I’ll call a cab and find my way back.”

It’s not the words themselves that break her; it’s the way you say them, like you’re letting her go in every sense of the word. Her heart shatters, the pieces falling one by one, and she doesn’t know how to stop it. She doesn’t know how to stop you.

“Let me go with you,” she breathes out, her voice, desperate to see more of you for as long as she still can.

But you shake your head gently, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill over, and she knows there’s no changing your mind.

She’s never felt so powerless, so useless, and all she can do is stand there, watching you walk away, feeling like you’re taking every part of her with you.

She watches your silhouette grow smaller and smaller, her mind clinging to every detail—how your hair looked under the dim streetlights, how soft your lips felt against her cheek, how your voice cracked when you said her name. She already misses all of it, every little piece of you.

But deep down, she knows she’s been missing you for far longer than just tonight.

The air is damp and Vi doesn’t move. She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing there, rooted to the ground, staring at the spot where you disappeared from her sight. A faint drizzle begins, tiny drops kissing her skin. She barely notices it at first, but soon the rain falls harder, soaking through her clothes.

She shivers, but she doesn’t move. Her hands fall limply at her sides, her mind replaying every moment of the night, every word you said, every second she couldn’t hold on to you. Her knees feel weak, but the ache in her chest is worse.

She wants to run after you, to stop you, but even if she said all the right words, she knows you’d still be leaving.

And it’s her fault, she thinks. She let it all slip away.

Hours pass, or maybe just minutes—it doesn’t matter. By the time she finally stumbles back to the party, her hair is dripping, her hands are trembling, and her heart feels hollow.

You booked the earliest flight you could, and as the sky begins to lighten, you pull your coat tighter around you and make your way to the airport.

In the next couple of days, in a big headline on your phone, you find out that Vi punched someone at that party.

SATURDAY, PRESENT DAY.

The hum of soft music drifted through the flower shop as you sat at the counter, a list of names and scribbled notes sprawled out in front of you. A steaming cup of tea sat untouched by your elbow, the faint aroma of lavender and honey filling the air.

You tapped your pen lightly against the edge of the paper, squinting at Mel’s unusually messy handwriting.

“Does Jayce even know this many people?” you muttered, half to yourself and half to Mel, who sat cross-legged on a stool across from you, flipping through her wedding binder.

Mel let out a melodious laugh, shaking her head.

“Oh, you’d be surprised. He seems to think everyone he’s ever spoken to needs a seat at this wedding.”

She reached over and plucked the list from your hands, glancing at the names.

“This is ridiculous. He even invited his college professor,” she squinted, pointing at a name near the bottom of the page, “—Heimer…dinger?”

You laughed softly, shrugging. “Don’t look at me.”

Mel groaned, leaning back and rubbing her temples. “I swear, at this rate, we’re going to have to build a second venue just to fit all these people.”

“Maybe you could just cut the guest list in half,” you suggested lightly, marking a few names off with your pen. “Say the venue has a sudden capacity issue.”

She smirked. “Tempting. Though, knowing Jayce, he’d probably build a whole new venue himself just to make sure no one gets left out.”

You smiled at her, then turned your attention back to the seating chart—you were only halfway through the list. You could feel the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through the shop’s windows. The scent of fresh blooms mixed with the faint perfume Mel always wore, filling the air with a sense of comfort you’ve gotten familiar with long ago.

“Do you think my mother will mind sitting next to Jayce’s?” Mel asks, uncertain. She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and frowns at the chart like it’s a puzzle she just can’t solve.

You glance up at her and let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I think they’re are old enough to behave for one meal.”

Mel sighs, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “You clearly haven’t met my family.”

“Yes, I have,” you roll your eyes and lean forward, studying the chart. “Okay, well… how about this?”

You move a few names around, scribbling quick arrows to new spots.

“We put your mom near your college friends. She can’t cause too much trouble if they’re surrounded by strangers.”

Mel grins at you, resting her chin on her hand as she watches you work.

“Perfect,” she says.

“How’s your mom holding up with all of this?” Mel asked suddenly, watching you as you meticulously rearranged the tiny paper name tags on the chart.

“She’s good,” you replied, your voice soft. “Excited, mostly. She keeps talking about how nice it is to have the shop involved in something so big.”

You paused, your hand hovering over one of the name tags.

“She’s just happy to see you and Jayce so… settled, I guess.”

Mel tilted her head, studying you with a thoughtful look in her eyes. “And you? How are you holding up?”

You hesitated, your fingers lightly brushing against the edge of the seating chart. For a moment, you considered giving her the same polite, surface-level answer you gave everyone else. But this was Mel—your best friend, the one person who’d known you through every high and low.

“I’m fine,” you said finally, though the words felt heavier than they should have. “Really.”

Mel’s gaze softened, but she didn’t push. Instead, she reached over and placed a reassuring hand on yours, her smile warm and understanding. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing great. And if you need anything—anything at all—you know I’m here.”

The phone rings before you can reply. You instinctively reach for it, the receiver cool against your hand as you press it to your ear. “Lane Florals, how can I help you?”

“Oh, hey! It’s Jayce,” a familiar voice greets you cheerfully on the other end. “Just checking in to see if Mel’s still holding you hostage over there.”

You laugh softly. “Hostage is a strong word, but yes, we’re almost done.”

Mel perks up at the sound of his name and reaches for the phone.

“Give me that,” she says playfully, taking it from you. “Jayce, we’ve been over this—your input doesn’t count unless you actually help with something.”

As Mel steps into the back to argue with her fiancé, you sit back in the chair, momentarily tuning out the sound of her voice. Your eyes wander around the shop, landing on the bundles of flowers waiting to be arranged, the sunlight filtering in through the windows, and the stillness of this place.

You absently twirl the pen in your hand, your mind drifting for a moment. It’s easy to stay busy here, to focus on what’s in front of you instead of the ache you don’t like to name.

“Jayce insists we keep his cousins together,” Mel said with a playful roll of her eyes as she returned to you. “I love him, but the man doesn’t understand how chaotic that side of the family is.”

“Maybe put them near the bar. That way they won’t bother anyone too much,” you suggested, earning a grateful laugh from Mel.

“Alright, I think we’ve almost got it,” she said, standing up to pour herself a glass of water.

Left alone for a moment, you leaned over the chart, eyes scanning the names to double-check the placements. Your gaze moved quickly at first, recognizing some familiar names and skimming unfamiliar ones, until it landed on something—towards the end of the list—that made your breath hitch.

Violet Lanes.

It was there, clear as day—her name printed neatly on a delicate little card, tucked beside a few other names at one of the smaller tables. Your hands stilled, hovering over the paper as a wave of something sharp and overwhelming crashed over you.

“Hey, you okay?” Mel’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You swallowed hard, nodding quickly.

“Yeah, I just—” You glanced down at the name again, your fingers brushing against the edge of the paper. “I’m fine.”

Mel’s eyes softened as she walked over, leaning over your shoulder. She followed your gaze to the card and let out a quiet sigh.

“I was going to tell you,” she said gently. “Jayce invited her. You know how they’ve been since high school. They’ve been in touch for a while, I guess. He didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

You nodded again, but the tightness in your chest didn’t ease.

“It’s fine,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow.

Mel reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“If it’s too much, I can figure something out,” she offered. “She hasn’t even confirmed with us yet… She’s probably so busy anyway.”

You shook your head, forcing a small smile. “No, it’s… it’s your wedding. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Mel, really. It’s okay,” you threw on one of the best fake smiles you could give. “It just caught me off guard, is all.”

Mel studies you for a moment, her gaze lingering on your face. “If you don’t want her there, I can tell Jayce—”

You cut her off with a quick shake of your head. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I promise.”

The words taste bitter on your tongue, but you push through it. The last thing you want is for Mel to feel guilty, or worse, pitying you.

She doesn’t seem convinced, but she nods anyway, going back to arranging the seating chart. You know she’s trying to keep things light, to keep you from feeling weighed down by whatever’s hanging in the air. And maybe you’re fooling yourself into thinking you’re not still carrying it.

But the truth is, you don’t know what to do with the ghost of her, or your love for her, lingering between everything you do.

“Hey,” Mel says after a beat, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Want to grab a coffee after we finish here? We could use a break.”

You nod, grateful for the distraction. “That sounds good.”

Glancing at the seating chart again, your finger rests on the name that’s still too familiar.

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[yaniluvs]

a song , that sounds like you

[ 한 ] ✷ ‎. . sleepover with your best friend, just like before. except that . . it isn't ?

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑏sf!han ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , best friends to lovers , uni au , skz ensemble . 71OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. kisses , jokes , intimacy . ┆ 💌 ⋮ requested drabble .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note 𑁍ࠬܓ THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ~I.5K WORDS. yani, dont over-write and turn every simple thing into a longfic challenge: go-> status: failed. THATS WHY I TOOK SO LONG. but anyways.... i read this like a gazillion times and im very slightly unhappy about it????? idk. but i got sick of it at some point so i didnt rly proofread for the final time. soooo finally another jisung fic lol >< posted way too much abt seungmo.. not that im complaining hehe. tribute to my beloved permed-jisung and pre-shaved jisung🙏 you're missed plenty. enjoy reading, thanks to anon for the req. <3 comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3

the night felt like any other. it was nothing new. nothing unusual.

jisung had crashed at y/n’s dorm more times than he could count, so many that they’d stopped calling it a "sleepover" years ago. it was just… what they did.

tonight was no different—except maybe it was.

jisung flopped onto her bed dramatically, limbs splayed out like a starfish. "i'm dying."

y/n, arms crossed, raised an unimpressed brow. "you literally just walked in."

"my point." he turned his head toward her, grinning wide, dimples pressing into his cheeks. "the walk from my dorm to yours? brutal. my legs almost gave up. i nearly saw the light. i need some support here,"

"what you need is exercise, ji," she laughed, already walking past him toward the kitchen. "come on lazy ass, we’re cooking."

jisung groaned, rolling onto his stomach. "cooking? can’t we order food? delivery is, like, the peak of human civilization."

"you mean the peak of your laziness."

"same thing."

"you’re cooking today."

jisung immediately sat up. "i’m sorry, what?"

"you heard me."

"y/n, have you ever seen me successfully make anything that isn’t watered-down instant ramen or burnt eggs?"

"exactly why you need to learn." she shot him a knowing smile, opening the fridge. "come on, chef-nim, apron up."

jisung scoffed. "you act like i own an apron."

"you act like i don't have a spare." she tossed a black apron his way. he caught it with a dramatic sigh, slipping it over his hoodie. "this is humiliating."

y/n simply tied her own apron around her waist, moving swiftly around the kitchen. jisung, however, stood in the middle of it like he was lost in a foreign land.

"so," he said, rocking on his heels, "what are we making, masterchef?"

"some fried rice, with stir-fry for the sides."

"sounds safe enough. do i get a knife?" his eyes lightened up.

y/n turned to him, eyes full of doubt, hands on her hips. "do i look like i trust you with a knife?"

he clutched his chest. "ouch."

"jisung, the last time you touched a knife, you almost lost a finger."

"it was one time!"

"one time too many." she handed him a bowl instead. "crack the eggs."

"i can do that," he said confidently.

y/n watched as he picked up an egg, tapped it on the edge of the bowl—nothing. he hit it again. still intact.

"jisung."

"hold on, it's just being stubborn."

"you're literally supposed to—"

before she could finish, he smacked the egg with full force. it exploded in his hand, yolk dripping between his fingers. he blinked.

"…okay. that was aggressive."

y/n burst out laughing. "oh, good lord.."

"why are you laughing?! this is tragic!" he held up his hand dramatically, as if he'd just lost a battle.

she wiped away tears of laughter. "you’re such a disaster."

"and yet you still keep me around."

"i really question why, sometimes."

jisung wiggled his eyebrows. "because you love me."

"debatable."

"wow. you wound me."

she handed him another egg. "try again, but gently this time."

he pouted but followed her instructions. on the second try, he succeeded. barely. a little bit of shell fell into the bowl, but he picked it out quickly, flashing her a victorious grin.

"see? improvement."

y/n shook her head with a fond smile. "barely."

as she moved on to frying the rice, jisung leaned against the counter, watching her. the warm glow of the kitchen lights softened her features, and the way she effortlessly moved around—it was second nature to her.

"you're so good at this," he murmured absentmindedly.

she glanced up. "at what?"

"everything," he said simply.

her movements stilled for a second before she rolled her eyes, turning back to the pan. "corny."

"honest."

she pushed his forehead lightly with her fingers. "shut up and hand me the soy sauce."

jisung grinned, grabbing the bottle and sliding it over the counter toward her. "see? i am useful."

"debatable."

jisung gasped. "you really enjoy hurting me, huh?"

y/n only smiled as she stirred the rice.

they fell into a comfortable silence after that—jisung humming some random tune, y/n focusing on the food. it was normal. routine. nothing new.

except maybe it was.

because jisung found himself staring at her a little longer than usual.

and yn, for some reason, felt a little warmer than the stove’s heat should allow.

the aroma of warm rice, sizzling kimchi, and soy sauce had filled the small dorm, wrapping them in the kind of comfort that only home-cooked food could bring. y/n hummed softly as she scooped the steaming fried rice onto two plates, making sure to add an extra spoonful to her best friend's because she already knew he’d ask.

jisung, sprawled out on the floor like he had no bones in his body, watched her with a lazy grin. "you really know how to treat a man."

"you’re more of a babygirl, but okay," she replied without missing a beat, setting the plates down on the small coffee table in front of them.

"excuse me? i am very much a grown adult."

"sure," she snorted. "a grown adult who can't crack an egg."

jisung gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "low blow."

yn only grinned as she grabbed the remote, flipping on the tv. they didn't even bother picking something to watch—just let some random show play in the background while she scrolled through a playlist on her phone.

and just like that, the room filled with their favorite songs.

the playlist hummed in the background, weaving through the warm, dimly lit dorm like a familiar embrace. soft indie melodies blended into old tracks from their high school days, each song a quiet echo of late-night car rides and whispered confessions. nestled between them were jisung’s own songs—songs he had written on restless nights, songs y/n had begged him to release, songs he pretended not to care about being in the playlist but secretly loved seeing there.

the air smelled of soy sauce and garlic. jisung sat cross-legged on the couch, his loose shirt and plaid pajama pants slightly wrinkled. his fluffy brown hair that he'd recently gotten permed, much to y/n's pleading, was tousled, curls falling over his forehead, casting soft shadows over his sleepy eyes. he scooped up a bite of fried rice, humming in approval as he chewed, blissfully unaware of the way y/n was watching him.

she sat on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, chin resting lazily against them, gaze fixed on him with a softness even she didn’t notice. he looked so at home, so effortlessly him, sitting there with his cheeks puffed out from the food she made, eyes drooping slightly from exhaustion. a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

he always ate with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn’t had a proper meal in days, shoveling food into his mouth like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“you’re staring,” his voice came, teasing yet laced with fondness.

y/n blinked, heat creeping up her neck as she quickly looked away. “i am not.”

jisung grinned, swallowing another bite. “liar.”

but he didn’t press further. he only smirked to himself, going back to his food, pretending he didn’t notice the way she studied him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

what he wouldn’t admit—what he barely admitted to himself—was that he did the same thing.

when y/n wasn’t paying attention, lost in the flickering candlelight of their tiny dorm, jisung found himself staring. he always did. the glow of the fairy lights made her skin look softer, her features delicate and warm. her hair, slightly messy from their earlier chaos in the kitchen, framed her face in a way that made his heart ache.

she was wearing her pyjama set, and the sleeves were bunched up around her fists as she absentmindedly traced circles against the couch cushion, after a bite herself.

she was beautiful. in the quiet, in the soft spaces between their banter, in the way she existed in his world so effortlessly.

“now,” she called out suddenly, breaking him from his trance. “you’re staring.”

his breath caught in his throat, but he recovered quickly, flashing his usual cheeky grin. “i am not.”

“liar.”

their laughter mingled with the music, and for a moment, the weight of their hidden feelings melted into the warmth of the night.

jisung exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he shoved another spoonful of rice into his mouth. he chewed slowly, eyes flickering between the half-empty plate and y/n, her expression unreadable except for the teasing glint in her gaze. his own voice filtered through the small dorm, warm and unfiltered, singing lyrics he once scribbled down at 2 a.m., never expecting them to be heard by anyone but himself.

he swallowed, running his tongue over his bottom lip before muttering, “you do this on purpose.”

y/n tilted her head, feigning confusion as she picked at her food. “do what?”

“this.” he gestured vaguely toward the speaker, his voice quieter now, almost sheepish. “make me listen to myself.”

she shrugged, stuffing another bite of rice into her mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world. “your music is good.”

jisung let out a small, breathy laugh, but there was something uncertain in the way his fingers tapped against the bowl. “you don’t have to lie to make me feel better, you know.”

y/n blinked, chopsticks pausing midair. “i’m not lying.”

“you say that.” he glanced at her, then away, focusing on a loose thread on his pajama pants. “but you’re my best friend. you’d tell me it’s good even if it wasn’t.”

she frowned, setting her chopsticks down with a soft clink against the ceramic. “sung..”

he didn’t respond, just stuffed another bite into his mouth, chewing like he was trying to make himself busy. y/n sighed, shifting so she could look at him properly. the glow of the fairy lights cast gentle shadows on his face, highlighting the quiet vulnerability in his eyes—the kind he tried so hard to hide.

“look,” she started, voice softer now. “i don’t put your songs in our playlists just because you’re my best friend. i put them there because they belong there.”

jisung stilled, fingers tightening around his spoon.

“you write music that makes people feel something. i know because i feel it. i always have.” she toyed with the hem of her hoodie—his hoodie. “and maybe it’s because i’ve seen you go through every stage of it. the late nights, the self-doubt, the way you talk about music like it’s the only thing that makes sense in your life sometimes.”

he swallowed thickly, staring at his plate like it held answers.

“i don’t just like your music, jisung. i believe in it. i believe in you.”

silence settled between them, thick and heavy, but not uncomfortable. jisung’s throat bobbed as he licked his lips, finally daring to meet her gaze.

something unreadable flickered in his eyes, something fragile and hesitant and real.

“…you always say things like that.” his voice was quiet, uncertain. “and i never know what to do with it.”

y/n smiled, small and knowing. “you don’t have to do anything. just don’t forget it.”

he stared at her for a moment longer, chest tightening with something he didn’t quite have the courage to name. then, exhaling softly, he looked away, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“i won’t.”

they ate comfortably, stealing bites from each other's plates despite having the exact same food. it was normal, the way their chopsticks clinked against each other in midair, the way jisung would groan dramatically after every bite, acting as if he’d just tasted the best thing in the world.

"marry me," he said, mouth full.

y/n gave him a look. "chew first."

he swallowed, grinning. "okay, now will you marry me?"

"no."

jisung clutched his chest. "you are cruel, woman."

"you are an idiot, man."

"a lovable idiot," he corrected, shoving another spoonful into his mouth.

she rolled her eyes but didn't deny it.

a beat of silence passed between them, the kind that wasn't awkward but rather filled with something unspoken. jisung glanced at her between bites, again, watching the way the light from the tv flickered against her skin.

she looked… soft. comfortable. the same as always, but maybe not quite.

"so," y/n spoke suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts. "how was your day?"

jisung blinked, needing a second to process the question. they spent most of their time together, but during classes, they went their separate ways. it was rare for them to actually talk about what happened when they weren't in the same place.

"uh," he started, stabbing his rice absentmindedly. "it was fine. boring. had a music composition lecture, but hyunjin fell asleep and snored loud enough for the whole class to hear."

y/n laughed. "no way."

"swear to god. professor park just stared at him for a solid minute before moving on."

"did no one wake him up?"

"i tried, but he swatted me away like a fly."

she shook her head, still laughing. "what else?"

jisung hesitated for a moment before answering, "i worked on a song between classes."

her expression softened. "the one you told me about?"

"yeah." he looked away, suddenly a little shy. "i, uh, actually finished the demo."

"jisung!" she smacked his arm lightly. "why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"i dunno," he muttered, playing with his chopsticks. "didn’t seem important."

"of course it’s important," she said firmly. "can i hear it?"

he met her eyes, something flickering behind his own, before he looked down again. "maybe later."

she didn't push, just nodded. "okay. your turn to ask."

he raised a brow. "ask what?"

"about my day, genius."

"oh. right." he leaned back, lazily twirling his chopsticks. "so, how was your day, my dear best friend whom i love and adore?"

she snorted. "it was fine. boring, mostly. but i had this duo project in business class."

jisung hummed in acknowledgment, taking another bite. "who’d you get stuck with?"

"a guy named sunwoo."

jisung froze mid-chew, his spoon hovering just inches from his lips. his brows furrowed for the briefest second before he blinked and forced himself to keep chewing, though suddenly, the fried rice didn’t taste as good anymore.

“i see..” he said after swallowing, voice casual. too casual. “never heard you mention him before.”

y/n shrugged, taking another bite. “yeah, we never really talked until today. he’s nice, though. smart, too. i was kinda worried i’d get stuck doing all the work, but he actually pulled his weight.”

jisung scoffed lightly, poking at his food. “that’s the bare minimum.”

she snorted. “true.”

silence stretched for a beat, the playlist shuffling to another song. jisung tapped his chopsticks against the edge of his bowl, trying to ignore the weird feeling curling in his stomach. it wasn’t a big deal. just a project partner. nothing to think about.

except—

“he was pretty talkative, too,” y/n continued, oblivious to the way jisung’s grip on his spoon tightened. “like, at first, it was just about the project, but then he started asking me random stuff. like, my favorite color, what i do in my free time, my favorite coffee order—”

jisung let out a short, almost incredulous laugh. “your coffee order? what, is he planning on getting you one next time?”

she blinked, considering. “i dunno, maybe. that’d be nice.”

jisung nearly choked on air. he coughed into his fist, shaking his head. “pfft. wow. sounds like he’s… really interested in your business skills.”

y/n laughed at that, nudging his leg with her foot. “oh, shut up. he was just being friendly.”

yeah, okay. sure.

he forced a grin, shoveling another bite of rice into his mouth like it would somehow get rid of the weird, nagging feeling inside him. “so, what else did he say?” he asked, tone still light, still playful. still pretending he didn’t care.

y/n hummed, thinking. “oh, he told me i have a really nice smile.”

jisung almost dropped his chopsticks.

“oh! and that i have pretty hands,” she added, wiggling her fingers in front of his face. “which is funny, ‘cause i don’t really get the whole hand thing, but—”

“he said what?” jisung cut in, voice cracking slightly.

she blinked up at him, confused. “...that i have pretty hands?”

jisung squinted at her like she was missing something obvious. “who compliments someone’s hands?”

“i don’t know! i mean, i guess they’re kinda nice…” she examined her own fingers, flexing them under the fairy lights. “they do a lot for me, you know? writing, playing, cooking—”

“okay, but still,” jisung interjected, trying not to sound too whiny. “that’s like—textbook flirting.”

y/n snorted. “no, it’s not.”

“yes, it is!” jisung threw his hands up. “first, he asks about your coffee order—classic move, by the way—then he calls your smile nice? and now your hands?” he pointed a dramatic chopstick at her. “that’s next-level, y/n. that’s, like, hand-holding agenda.”

she gave him a flat look. “i think you’re overreacting. personally i'd love making friends like that.” she laughed.

“no, you’re underreacting!” he groaned dramatically, flopping onto the couch, staring at the ceiling like it personally offended him. “i can’t believe this. my best friend is so oblivious.”

y/n just giggled, poking his knee. “oh, come on, ji. he was just being nice. and it’s not like i’m interested in him or anything.”

jisung perked up at that, a little too quickly. “you’re not?”

she shook her head, stuffing another bite of rice into her mouth. “nope.”

something unspoken settled in the air.

jisung let out a quiet breath, something inside him easing—but he still had an annoyed little pout on his lips. “still. he was flirting. you just don’t see it ‘cause you’re you.”

“hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” he huffed, crossing his arms, “that you’re too cute for your own good, and guys like him are gonna keep trying to hit on you while you remain completely, utterly unaware.”

y/n blinked, caught off guard.

jisung realized what he said half a second too late. his ears turned pink.

“…anyway!” he cleared his throat, suddenly stuffing his mouth with rice. “this is good fried rice. really, really good.”

y/n just watched him, something unreadable in her gaze. a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips.

“dork,” she muttered under her breath.

and if jisung, in his flustered state, caught the way she was staring at him now—soft, fond, admiring—he didn’t say a word.

"sunwoo. what kind of dumb name is that?"

she laughed, shaking her head.

soon, the food disappeared slowly between them, the plates scraping softly as y/n absentmindedly pushed the last bits of rice around with her chopsticks. jisung, on the other hand, had long since finished and was now leaning back on his palms, his head tilted toward the ceiling, looking entirely too satisfied. he stretched with a deep sigh, his tee riding up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin before settling back down.

"i’m convinced you were a chef in a past life," he said, breaking the silence, his voice laced with a kind of sleepy contentment.

y/n smirked, still focused on her plate. "i’ll take that as a compliment."

"it is a compliment," he assured her, turning his head to face her. his cheek was slightly squished against his shoulder, making him look more like a sleepy puppy than a grown man. "i’m genuinely scared of what would happen to me if you weren’t around. i’d probably live off ramen and instant rice."

"you already do that when i’m not around. and still make it taste bad."

"exactly," he said, as if she had just proven his point. "my body is, like, seventy percent sodium at this point."

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "that explains a lot, honestly."

jisung gasped dramatically. "are you saying i look like someone who eats too much sodium?"

"i’m saying your diet is concerning," she teased, finally setting her chopsticks down and leaning back as well. the food had settled warmly in her stomach, and the atmosphere felt hazy in the best way—soft, familiar, comfortable.

jisung groaned, letting his head fall back. "this is why i need you in my life. you balance out all my self-destructive tendencies."

y/n snorted, stretching out her legs. "i’m your best friend, not your dietitian."

"best friend and dietitian," he corrected lazily.

she hummed, letting the conversation drift into a natural lull. the tv played quietly in the background, an old sitcom neither of them was paying attention to, and their playlist continued to shuffle through songs they had both heard a thousand times before. outside, the city was alive, but in their small little bubble of a dorm, it felt like time had slowed down just for them.

jisung shifted, sitting up properly, and y/n could feel him staring before she even turned to look at him. "what?" she asked, raising a brow.

he hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before finally saying, "i want you to be in my song."

the words were simple, casual even, but they made something in y/n’s chest tighten. she blinked. "what?"

"my demo," jisung clarified, his voice softer now, more careful. "i want you to sing in it."

yn let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "jisung, you know i don’t do that."

"why not?" he tilted his head, brows furrowing slightly. "you’re literally so good. like, so good."

she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "it’s just a hobby for me, you know that."

"okay, but why just a hobby?" his voice had that familiar edge of insistence, the same one he used when he really, really wanted something. "you could do so much more with it."

she shrugged, eyes flickering to the tv even though she wasn’t really watching. "it’s not the same for me as it is for you," she said honestly. "music is your thing, jisung. you breathe this stuff. it’s not like that for me."

"but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it," he argued, leaning in slightly. "i love your voice, y/n. you know that."

she swallowed, feeling warmth crawl up her neck. he had told her that before—countless times, actually—but something about the way he said it now felt different, heavier. "it’s just not something i see myself doing seriously," she admitted, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve.

jisung was quiet for a moment, his eyes studying her face carefully. then, with a small, teasing smile, he said, "okay. but what if it’s just for me?"

she looked at him, confused. "what do you mean?"

"i mean," he started, tapping his fingers against his knee absentmindedly, "forget about, like, doing music professionally or whatever. i just want you on this song. not because i think you should be an artist or anything—just because it’s us. i dunno. i feel like it’d sound better if you were in it."

y/n bit her lip, uncertain. she liked singing, she always had, but she never really thought about it beyond the occasional harmonizing with jisung when he played guitar, or the times she mindlessly hummed while cooking. it was never something she considered putting out there for other people to hear.

jisung, however, was looking at her with those big, expectant eyes, his wide smile softened at the edges. "just think about it," he said, nudging her knee with his. "no pressure. but i think it’d be cool. i mean, imagine—our voices together in a song? legendary."

yn laughed, shaking her head. "you’re ridiculous."

"i’m right," he corrected.

she sighed, resting her chin on her palm. "i don’t know, ji."

he pouted, but there was no real disappointment in his face—just patience, quiet and steady. "i’ll send you the demo," he said after a beat. "just listen to it. see if you like it."

she nodded slowly. "fine. i’ll listen."

jisung grinned, victorious. "that’s all i ask."

another silence stretched between them, this one softer, almost charged in a way y/n couldn’t quite explain. the tv droned on in the background, but neither of them was paying attention.

jisung shifted again, stretching his legs out next to hers, their knees knocking slightly. he exhaled, tilting his head back against the couch. "i like nights like this," he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost like he was talking to himself.

yn turned to look at him, watching the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones under the dim light. "like what?"

"just…chill." he cracked one eye open, looking at her. "you. me. food. music. no stress."

she smiled softly. "yeah. me too."

jisung hummed in acknowledgment, closing his eyes again. "we should do this more often."

y/n didn’t respond right away, letting the words settle between them. she thought about how much time they already spent together, how their days were filled with each other in some way or another.

and yet, something about the way he said it—like he wanted more, like he wasn’t just talking about casual hangouts but something deeper—made her stomach flutter in a way she didn’t entirely understand.

she swallowed, nudging his foot lightly with hers. "we already do this all the time, idiot."

jisung smiled, eyes still closed. "yeah. but i mean more."

y/n’s heart did something weird in her chest, but before she could dwell on it, jisung sat up suddenly, stretching his arms above his head. "anyway. we should clean around before the angry yunah gets back and starts lecturing us about leaving dishes out."

the moment was gone, dissipating like smoke, leaving yn slightly dazed in its wake.

she nodded, shaking off the strange warmth in her chest, pushing herself up as well.

"right. let’s clean up."

and just like that, the night continued, soft and slow, something unspoken lingering between them—unnoticed, or maybe just ignored.

. . .

the dishes had been washed, the leftovers tucked away, and the night stretched lazily ahead of them, the warm haze of comfort lingering in the air. the tv was still on, playing something neither of them was paying attention to, but y/n could feel the way the atmosphere had shifted—thicker, heavier, filled with something unsaid.

jisung sat on the floor again, back resting against the couch, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against his knee. now, his sleeves were pushed up to reveal his forearms, and his hair was messier now, some strands sticking out in different directions. he looked soft like this—less like the flirty, chaotic mess he usually was and more like the boy she had always known, the one who could say a million things with just a glance.

y/n sat across from him, legs crossed, arms draped over her knees as she studied him. she hesitated for a moment before saying, “play it for me.”

jisung blinked, caught off guard. “huh?”

“the song,” she clarified, shifting slightly. “i wanna hear it.”

he stared at her for a second before scoffing. “you never wanna hear my songs before they’re done.”

“um, wrong, you always reject to play them for me before they're done.” she pointed, trying to sound casual. “i feel like listening everytime. and tonight.”

“and my guitar is right here, so..” she laughed.

something flickered across jisung’s face—surprise, maybe, or something softer—but he didn’t question it. instead, he reached for her guitar, a brown one, which had burgundy, floral borders over its peaks and edges. it had been sitting next to the couch all night, like it had been waiting for the right moment.

he adjusted it on his lap, fingers finding the familiar curves of the wood, the smoothness of the strings beneath his touch. the way he handled just.. guitars had always fascinated her—not just with skill, but with love, like it was an extension of himself, a second voice that spoke when words weren’t enough.

y/n watched, her chin resting on her palm as she took in the tiny details she had seen a hundred times before but never really noticed—the way his brows furrowed in focus, the way his lips parted slightly as if he were already singing in his head, the way the warm light from the tv cast soft shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his bottom lip.

he cleared his throat. “okay, but don’t judge, ‘cause it’s still rough.”

she rolled her eyes. “i never judge.”

he gave her a look, but it was softened by a small smile before he looked down at his guitar again. his fingers moved, the first chords filling the room—gentle, familiar, warm.

and then, he sang.

his voice was low at first, careful, like he was still unsure if he wanted to let her hear it. but as the melody flowed, he eased into it, his tone settling into that effortless, raspy sweetness that always made something deep in y/n’s chest ache.

she watched, completely entranced, as his eyes fluttered shut, lost in the song. the way his throat moved as he sang, the subtle shifts in his expression, the slight crease in his brow when he hit a note just right—it was all so undeniably han jisung, and it was beautiful.

she had heard him sing countless times before, but something about this was different. maybe because it was just the two of them, the world outside forgotten. or maybe because she was finally allowing herself to see him, really see him, in a way she hadn’t before.

his voice filled the room, smooth and raw all at once, laced with emotion that made her chest feel tight. and the lyrics—god, the lyrics.

it was soft, bittersweet, almost like a confession hidden within the melody. he sang about late nights and lingering glances, about feelings that hovered on the edge of something more, about someone who felt like home.

and y/n couldn’t help but wonder—who was it about?

her breath caught slightly as she watched him, taking in the way his lashes cast the faintest shadows on his cheeks, the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, the way his lips curled slightly around certain words, like he meant them.

she felt something warm spread through her chest, something unfamiliar yet oddly comforting, like stepping into sunlight after days of rain.

when he finally strummed the last chord, the room settled into silence, save for the distant hum of the city outside.

jisung let out a breath, running a hand through his already messy hair. “so… what do you think?”

y/n was still staring. she realized it a second too late and quickly looked away, blinking. “it’s…” her voice felt stuck in her throat, so she cleared it, trying again. “it’s beautiful, ji.”

he smiled, looking down as if trying to hide how much her words affected him. “yeah?”

“yeah,” she said softly.

another silence settled between them, this one different from the ones before. it wasn’t awkward—it was thick, weighted with something neither of them dared to name.

jisung shifted slightly, leaning her guitar against the couch. his fingers tapped against his knee again, a nervous habit. “i meant what i said earlier.”

y/n tilted her head. “about what?”

“about you being in the song,” he said, his voice quieter now. “your voice would fit perfectly. you have this way of making things sound… real. i dunno how to explain it, but i think it’d be better if you were part of it.”

“i know you don’t take singing seriously, and you did say you'd listen to the actual demo.. oh which i know means a no, almost,” he cut in before she could refuse, “but just this once. just for this song.”

y/n exhaled, her fingers curling around the fabric of her sleeve. “why does it matter so much to you?”

jisung opened his mouth, then closed it, as if he was debating how honest he wanted to be.

finally, he shrugged. “because it’s us.”

her heart skipped.

“i mean, not us us,” he added quickly, looking away. “just… our voices. together. i think it’d be nice.”

y/n swallowed. “i don’t know if i’d be any good.”

“you would,” he said, no hesitation. “and i’d be with you the whole time. we’d do it together.”

together.

the word settled deep in her chest, warm and heavy.

she looked at him again, at the hopeful glint in his eyes, at the way he was watching her like she was something more than just his best friend.

and maybe, for the first time, she let herself wonder—what if she was?

she exhaled slowly, giving him a small, hesitant smile. “okay.”

jisung blinked. “okay?”

“i’ll do it,” she said, and his entire face lit up in that way it always did when he was really happy, the kind of smile that made her stomach flip in ways she didn’t fully understand.

“you won’t regret it,” he promised, excitement buzzing in his voice.

she wasn’t sure if that was true.

because something told her that once she sang with him, once their voices blended together in a song meant for something deeper—

there would be no going back.

and that terrified her more than anything.

. . .

sprawled out on jisung’s bed, surrounded by the soft hum of the laptop fan and the distant city sounds filtering through the window, y/n felt weightless. not in the way that meant floating away, but in the way that meant she was exactly where she was meant to be.

the air smelled faintly of fabric softener, of jisung’s vanilla-and-woodsy shampoo, of warmth. the blankets beneath them were slightly rumpled, evidence of a thousand previous sleepovers, tangled limbs, and late-night conversations that bled into early mornings. the glow from the laptop screen cast shifting patterns onto the walls, moving in time with the video they were watching.

it was their friend group’s latest dance cover, the kind they always hyped up in their group chat but never actually watched until they were together.

“look at hyunjin’s face,” jisung snickered, pointing at the screen as hyunjin executed a particularly dramatic spin, his expression intense. “bro thinks he’s in a movie.”

y/n burst into laughter, hiding her face in her hands. “no, because he so does that on purpose. you just know he was practicing in front of a mirror.”

“i bet he stared at himself for hours,” jisung agreed, shaking his head. “such a drama king.”

they continued watching, throwing in their own commentary as felix’s fluid movements took over the screen, followed by minho’s signature sharpness, yunah’s grace, and minseo’s precise footwork. their friends were insane, and as much as they teased, the admiration was real.

“minho-hyung’s on another level, though,” yn murmured, her head tilted slightly. “look at the way he controls his movements.”

jisung hummed in agreement. “yeah. he’s scary good.”

a comfortable silence settled between them, only the sound of the music playing through the laptop speakers filling the air. the bed dipped slightly where jisung had shifted, moving to lean on his elbow. yn could feel the shift in weight, the slight press of his arm against hers, the warmth of his body radiating closer than before.

she turned her head slightly—just a fraction—to look at him.

and that was when it happened.

something… shifted.

it was subtle, but it was undeniable. like a string pulled taut between them, an unspoken question hovering in the air.

jisung’s eyes were still on the screen, but his fingers had stopped absentmindedly tapping against the blanket. his jaw was relaxed, but his lips were slightly parted, like he had just thought of something he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say out loud.

the glow from the laptop flickered across his face, highlighting the curve of his cheek, the slope of his nose, the way his lashes cast delicate shadows against his skin. his hair, slightly messy from the way he had been lying down, fell softly over his forehead.

and then, as if he could feel her looking, his gaze flickered to hers.

it wasn’t immediate. it wasn’t rushed.

it was slow.

deliberate.

his eyes met hers, and for the first time in a long time, neither of them looked away.

the music in the background faded into something distant, something unimportant.

the flickering light, the sound of their breathing, the way the air seemed to press down on them—it all blended into something almost dreamlike.

jisung’s gaze dipped, just for a second, to her lips.

and y/n’s breath caught.

it wasn’t new, being this close. it wasn’t new, lying next to each other, watching something, talking about everything and nothing.

but this?

this was new.

this was different.

she could feel it in the way the space between them seemed to shrink, in the way her pulse thrummed in her ears, in the way jisung swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly.

his hand twitched—just barely—against the blanket.

and then, before she could even fully process it, he moved.

slow. hesitant. but sure.

his fingers brushed against hers, a touch so light it could have been mistaken for an accident. but neither of them moved away.

yn exhaled shakily, her heart a wild drum in her chest.

and then, suddenly—

their lips met.

soft at first. just a press—a quiet, unsure thing that barely lasted a second.

but then she leaned in.

and he did too.

and it wasn’t just a kiss anymore. it was something more.

jisung’s lips were warm, careful, but there was a hunger beneath it, something restrained, something that had been waiting far too long to be acknowledged. his fingers found her wrist, featherlight at first before gripping just slightly, grounding himself.

her hands curled into the fabric of his tee, and he let out a quiet exhale against her lips, like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

the laptop screen continued playing, casting shifting lights across their skin. the blanket beneath them was soft, but nothing—nothing—felt softer than this. than him.

he pulled away first, just enough to breathe, just enough to look at her.

his eyes searched hers, as if trying to understand what this meant.

as if asking, did we just cross the line?

but the thing was—

maybe there had never been a line in the first place.

maybe they had been here all along, just waiting for the right moment to realize it.

their breaths tangled in the space between them, warm and unsteady, still trembling with something unspoken. the moment felt like it stretched infinitely—long enough for y/n to take in the way jisung’s eyes flickered, dark pools of hesitation and something deeper, something unreadable.

his fingers, still curled loosely around her wrist, twitched, but he didn’t pull away.

the glow from the laptop continued to flicker, painting soft golds and muted blues across his face, across the fabric of his tee, across the slightly uneven threads of the blanket beneath them.

she felt warm.

not just from the shared heat between them, but from something in her chest, something that felt like a slow burn, like a realization creeping up on her.

jisung exhaled, his lips parting slightly as if to say something, but then he stopped.

she blinked at him, suddenly aware of the way her heart was still hammering. loudly. so loudly she swore he could hear it.

“…we just,” she said, as if confirming it to herself.

“kissed.”

jisung let out a breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah. yeah, we did.”

silence. not awkward, but charged.

y/n wet her lips, suddenly hyper-aware of the lingering sensation of his against hers. soft. he was soft.

then, jisung groaned, burying his face into the pillow. “oh my god. did i just ruin us?”

she blinked, before laughing softly. “you’re literally so dramatic.”

“i am not,” he mumbled into the fabric, voice muffled.

“you are. like, so dramatic. like—oscar-worthy dramatic.”

jisung lifted his head just enough to glare at her, though the way his nose scrunched up made it less intimidating. “okay, miss i-just-kissed-my-best-friend-and-now-i’m-still-here-for-some-reason—why are you not freaking out?”

y/n tilted her head. “do you want me to freak out?”

“no?” his lips quirked. “maybe?” he groaned again, flopping onto his back, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers. “i just—wow, okay, so we really did just kiss. that happened.”

she rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow, her fingers playing with the loose threads of the blanket. “do you regret it?”

jisung turned his head to look at her, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. he just looked.

his gaze trailed over the shape of her nose, the way her cheek was still slightly flushed, the way her hair had fallen over her shoulder, a few strands resting against her collarbone.

then, he whispered, “no.”

her breath hitched.

jisung swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “do you?”

a beat of silence.

“…no.”

another stretch of quiet, but this time, it was softer. like a shared secret, like something that no longer needed to be questioned.

then, jisung shifted, reaching up lazily, fingers brushing against the ends of her hair. “okay. so. now what?”

she huffed a small laugh, flopping back onto the pillows beside him. “i have no idea.”

“that makes two of us.”

they both stared at the ceiling for a long moment, the sound of the laptop’s fan whirring quietly in the background.

then—

jisung turned his head toward her again, watching the way her lips pursed slightly in thought, the way her fingers absentmindedly traced shapes onto the blanket.

slowly, carefully, he reached out, resting a hand against her arm. “can we—just. stay like this? for a bit?”

she turned toward him, eyes softening. then, instead of answering, she simply curled closer, letting herself nestle into his side, the fabric of his tee brushing against her cheek.

jisung let out a slow breath, his arm naturally slipping around her, his fingers resting against the dip of her waist.

she was warm.

he could feel her heartbeat, steady against his ribs, in sync with his own.

the scent of her shampoo filled his senses—something sweet, something vaguely floral, something hers.

the sound of their breathing intertwined with the faint music still playing from the laptop, a mix of their favorite songs.

jisung sighed, letting his cheek rest against the crown of her head. “you’re kinda dangerous, you know?”

yn hummed sleepily. “oh? why’s that?”

“because i don’t think i’ll ever want to sleep without you now.”

she smiled against his chest, eyes fluttering closed. “good thing i’m not going anywhere, then.”

and for the first time that night, jisung felt like maybe—just maybe—things had fallen into place exactly the way they were always meant to.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan

[moonysbookshelves]

The Cadence of Part-Time Poets

The Cadence of Part-Time Poets by @motswolo

Have been working on this 10 volume set for the past few months now, and they are finally complete. My Magnum Opus. I have peaked and probably depleted all of my brain power.

Thank you to @motswolo for writing such a beautiful story. My brain chemistry has been favourably altered. Will forever flinch when I hear Queen, The Beatles or Bob Dylan. Love to you from western Canada (west coast best coast lets gooooo).

I also posted a TikTok of these since posts here are limited and I love the insides as much as the covers, so if you wanna see between the pages, here’s that.

Also thank you @avisbindery for letting me scream and cry in your DMs while I read the fic. May you get some uninterrupted sleep now LOLLL.

Going to write a whole essay below about the ideas and details because uhhh I wanna yap bit!

So for starters, I wanted to make these binds look like magazines because of the epilogue where (spoiler) Tonya sees Remus in a copy of New Musical Express. But of course this fic is long, so I was like, what if I do multiple volumes? This very quickly spiralled into me painstakingly (finding publication-accurate fonts almost sent me to an early grave) recreating 10 different music-focused magazines from the 70s and 80s from scratch (thank you to Photoshop, Affinity, Procreate and Canva). Each volume features a unique cover, along with stylized typesets to match that display the songs for each chapter but in different designs. And then I went a little crazy and made a 45 sleeve and a cassette too, to really set the scene when I took the photos lol

While the covers display the dates pertaining to the contents of that particular volume (Sept 1975 for volume one, for example) I was thinking about what the magazines would say if they were really published when Marauders are traipsing about being spectacular and famous in the future. I sprinkled in details from the fic itself and fanon-ed it a bit, but that was the general inspiration :-) Tried to keep the photos used either faceless/obscured, or to use the fancasts on Mots’ Cadence master post. I also tried to use period-accurate photos but didn’t always succeed, so settled for photos of 4 member bands where I had to :”) But the general intent with the facelessness was that they could be implied to be Marauders. If you squint? lol. Just pretend. Pls.

Volume One: Based upon The Record Song Book. This magazine went on to inspire the typesets, since it publishes lyrics and such. The cover images are of Spacey Jane and David Thewlis.

Volume Two: Based on ZigZag, specifically the issue from July 1978 featuring Siouxie and the Banshees just because I thought it looked sick as fuck. I re-drew the abstract shapes and such in procreate. The cover images are The Clash and a young Gary Oldman. Lord he was foiiine.

Volume Three: Based on Trouser Press, November 1980. The cover images are a young Metallica, and my personal fav fan cast for James, Reiky De Valk. The film negatives are from a Bruce Springsteen tour, 1976.

Volume Four: Based on Gay Times (November 1984), a queer magazine from the UK because this volume contains Wolfstars first kiss hehe. Also hence Somebody To Love plastered all over the covers. The Front cover is Inhaler. The “4A” on this one is of course the boys’ dorm number, but I made the A the lambda symbol as this was a pride symbol in the 70s after Stonewall.

Volume Five: Based on Melody Maker. Front image is Alex Turner. All of the text on this one is pulled directly from the fic. The scene where they all drop acid and James jumps off the roof Almost Famous style had me hootin’ and hollerin’… until Tomny showed up hahaha :”)

Volume Six: Based on IT (International Times, Aug 1971). Front image for this one is Joy Division, and the back features Jane Asher for Lily

Volume Seven: Based on Record Mirror, June 1976. Front image is John Taylor of Duran Duran. Yum.

Volume Eight: Based on Rolling Stone. More vibes than anything for this one, but the quote still makes me laugh.  Front image is of Matt Hitt. Can you tell I photoshopped a cell phone out of this one? IDK. This photo just screamed ‘Remus’ to me so I had to use it. The back image is an old cigarette ad, but the photo is taken in Shepherd’s Bush.

Volume Nine: Based on Fusion magazine. Front image for this one is once again Inhaler. Oops. Back cover is our gals. Images are Jodie Foster as Cherry, Brenda Sykes as Mary, and Goldie Hawn as Lottie.

Volume Ten: Based on New Musical Express. You know why :”) These are all victims of fanon, but this one especially. I wanted it to be NME instead of the re-invented logos I’d been doing for all the rest, as I wanted it to look like the magazine the Sister gives to Tonya. I referred to an issue of NME from October 1979 for this and layered in fic references where it made sense to. The cover image for this one is (I think) Cigarettes After Sex. This issue also contains all of the B-Side chapters, and the Marauders song lyrics too just for fun :)

Slasher Chick: This is just my take on what Sybill’s zine could’ve looked like. Prob way off but I just wanted to have fun with this one since I had no cover to reference lol. The zine contains her little write-up and the interview, lifted straight from the fic :")

ok yap sesh over byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee lmfaooooo

[ravens-two]

PAC: How will 2025 be like

This reading includes:

the general energy of 2025 for you

advice and an affirmation for the year ahead

The extended reading includes:

relationships in 2025

career in 2025

moodboard for 2025

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone.

Edit// because I somehow messed up and copied the wrong title for this pac 😭😭

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Queen of Wands, Chariot, High Priestess

Tend (maintenance, encouragement, guidance), Unicorn, The Flame

"I drive fast, wind in my hair/ I push you to the limits 'cause I just don't care" - burning desire by lana del rey

Pile 1 your 2025 is certainly fiery. You're done being afraid, you're done always feeling like you can't actually achieve what you want, like you're not good enough. Those times are over, because you're entering 2025 with the intent of actually shaking things up. This year you're going after what you want and it doesn't even matter if you want multiple things because you're moving in multiple directions all at once. It seems like you've finally managed to find a way to keep yourself organized (be it keeping a journal or just using your time in better ways) and that's what allows you to go after so many different things. But, it's always important to remember not to sign up for too many things, pile 1. In the end you're only human and you can't do everything. Choose more intentionally.

With your song of the year being Burning Desire and with you having both the Queen of Wands and the High Priestess you're going to be irresistible this year, pile 1. I'm not sure if this is a glow up appearance wise - like you could be trying a new skincare routine that helps to clear your skin, you might lose or gain weight - or you might be changing up your style, dressing in a way that feels more authentic to who you are, or it could simply be your attitude, you carrying yourself with more confidence and sensuality. No matter what it is, you're definitely magnetic. Other people can't look away from you.

I also see you being filled with energy to dedicate yourself to many things and projects. This might not apply for everyone (at least in the same way) but I also see a lot of creative energy here. This year you might finally want to dedicate yourself to your artistic pursuits/hobbies whatever they may be (drawing, painting, dancing, writing, journaling, knitting, whatever it is). I also see you pursuing knowledge, if that makes sense, you want to try out new things and get more general knowledge - maybe you're reading the classics, watching documentaries, going to concerts.

Another thing that's really getting my attention about this year ahead for you is that you have no fear. Like, absolutely no fear at all. You're willingly to try anything once. I feel like in the past you've always held yourself back (if you have prominent Pluto or Saturn placements this might be even more relevant), and you're just sick and tired of it. You want to free yourself and so you're going into this year with the mentality of trying things, of being brave despite the anxiety and the fear. I'm really proud of you, pile 1.

Your rune for the year is Dagaz. Dagaz is the rune of sunrise and it represents new beginnings. This just continues the theme of empowering yourself and conquering your fears. Dagaz is very much a rune of hope. The night might have been long and dark, but the sun always rises and this year the sun is rising for you. New things, new situations, new people are coming into your life and by the end of the year you'll be a much different person than you were at the beginning of the year. I also see a lot of healing for you this year.

Your affirmation for 2025 is "I love and accept myself". Once again I feel like this ties super well to everything we've talked so far, especially the glowing up and confidence part. By loving and accepting yourself with all your flaws and shortcomings you're helping yourself to grow into a beautiful butterfly.

check out the extended reading on Patreon

Pile 2

Fool, Six of Swords, Six of Pentacles

Oak Tree (power, courage, strength), Bee, The Box

"Well, what we really need is a femininomenon" - femininomenon by chappell roan

Pile 2, you're in for a brand new beginning this year, it almost feels like a reinvention. A bit similar to pile 1, you're also tired of the things that were wearing you down last year (maybe even before that) and you're releasing yourself from them this year. You're letting go of the things that no longer serve you, which is commendable, because it takes so much strength. I see that for some of you this might be about walking away from a relationship(s), from a job or even from a place. With the Fool and the Six of Swords here you could very well be moving homes or even countries. Honestly, the energy for you pile 2 is as if you've always lived inside a box, following strict rules and being a "good girl" [gender neutral] but now you're absolutely done with that. You've decided that it's time to see what's outside the box. What does the world look like without the binds and the comfort of the box? Actually, now that I think about it this could also be very relevant for anyone that's moving out of their parents' house for the first time. It's an experience that's both exhilarating, freeing and terrifying.

No matter what, you're very decided to face things head on. You'll take care of the problems and unexpected complications as they come up. You know you're strong enough to solve these problems, to finally be free. You're going to be your very own femininomenon this year.

This is a huge year of growth for you pile 2, even more than pile 1. I really feel like a lot of people who pick this pile are young people becoming independent for the first time.

Your rune for the year is Tiwaz. Tiwaz is a rune of victory and sacrifice. It's almost saying that you know that things will be hard, you know you're going to have to work hard, sometimes you'll want to give up, but at the end of the day it's worth it because you come out victorious. Honestly, a part of this victory is recognizing how strong and capable you actually are.

Your affirmation for 2025 is "I am in harmony". So, what this tells me is that 2025 might be a bit chaotic for you with these many changes happening so you'll need to find moments of calm and harmony, find a safe ground to touch down when things seem like they might sweep you away. On the other hand, this also feels like you can finally breathe after you finally release yourself from all these problems and restrictions that were weighting down on you so heavily.

check out the extended reading on Patreon

Pile 3

Six of Wands, Ten of Swords, Nine of Swords

Broom (energy, clearing, freshening), Swan, The King

(an instrumental song) - verdes anos by carlos paredes

Pile 3, your energy is very interesting. You're the only pile that got an instrumental song for their song of the year which immediately gave me a vibe of peace and not letting the problems disturb you. By the way, if you've never heard this song I would definitely recommend it - it's by a Portuguese guitar player and the title means Green Years (as in still being green/young). You know, I think that this is a year of giving yourself grace and being gentle with yourself. Not everything will be perfect or go exactly as you dreamed it would, and that's perfectly fine, because in the end you will be okay. I do get this sense that you're already in this mentality and that's where the peace comes from. You have a belief that despite how wrong or how hard things are now it's just inevitable that everything will be fine.

The energy in your tarot cards is nothing if not interesting. There's a lot of anxiety and a sense of loss almost with the Ten and Nine of Swords, but on the other hand you also have victory and recognition with the Six of Wands. For some you this might be referring to some situation where you're taken advantage of, someone steals your work, or maybe it could even be about cheating or a betrayal for some of you. But! But, in the end this thing will work in your favor, maybe your boss notices that your coworker has been taking credit for your work, or maybe you finally recognize that a relationship or friendship wasn't as healthy as you wished it was.

2025 will be a year of clearing energies for you. As much as the Ten of Swords is a betrayal and deep pain, it can also be about the ending of a painful situation (even if that ending might be painful as well). I will also say that after this situation ends and the pain ends, some anxiety might set in because you're not used to being in a good place. You might constantly be looking over your shoulder trying to see where the next bad thing is coming from.

All in all, I think that this year you should focus on taking things slowly and patiently. Don't ever think that something is the end of the world, because there will be a solution for everything. As it is a year of clearing energies you might find yourself losing people or things, remember that no matter how unhealthy those situations might have been it's perfectly normal and healthy to grieve those losses.

Your rune for the year is Gebo. Gebo means gift and it's a rune that talks about exchanging gifts and favors with other people. The Norse people saw it as a way of creating stronger bonds with others, so this year you're being called to ask for help from loved ones. Believe me, this helps your relationships grow and get stronger.

Your affirmation for 2025 is "Everything I need comes to me at the perfect time." Once again you have this idea of solutions (no matter how unexpected) coming when you need them most. This might be a difficult year for you, pile 3, but believe that in the end you'll look back and see how much you've grown and much better your life has gotten.

check out the extended reading on Patreon

Pile 4

Tower, Eight of Swords, Wheel of Fortune

Sage (wisdom, purification, harmony), Golden Egg, The Nectar

"Are we brutal hearts that break the night in two?/'Cause I just want this night with you" - use me (brutal hearts) by diplo

Pile 4 you have a very interesting energy because I got a lot of information just from the photo that represents your pile alone. It seems that summertime will be either the most significant part of the year (like a turning point happening for example) or the happiest part of the year for you. In general, I see a shift in your life, it's like suddenly the world is slightly tilted instead of being straight just like the horizon line isn't straight in your photo.

But let's get into your tarot. The Tower definitely supports this idea of a turning point and a shift in your life. With the Eight of Swords here too, to me it almost feels like you think that things are going to happen in a specific way but then something very unexpected happens and now suddenly your life is completely different. The only "specific" example I'm getting is of someone thinking that they're going to start university studying a specific degree in a specific place, but suddenly the results come out and you didn't get in. Maybe you got in a different place or in a different degree that ends up changing the plans you had until now. No matter what it is in specific, the idea is that suddenly your life isn't going according to plan. For some of you this might either be a big relief or a big disappointment (it will, of course, depend on your circumstances). But more importantly, you should know that this will be for the better. There was something "rotten" in your trajectory and this is like course correction.

Aside from that, I also think that this will be a very important year of self-discovery and healing from past patterns for you. Unlike the figure in the eight of swords that's blindfolded and incapable of seeing, you'll be able to see yourself better. It's like you're more self-aware, both of your flaws and your strengths. Be careful though not to pay too much attention to all your faults and shortcomings because that isn't healthy either and it will definitely hurt you in the long run. As always, moderation is the answer.

No matter what this is a very important year for you because there are a lot of things happening for you - maybe a lot of firsts.

Your rune of the year is Laguz. Laguz is a lake and in general is a rune connected to water. To me this is very funny because the sea is very prominent on the photo for your pile. Laguz though is a card that talks about healing and deep reflection - two things we already touched upon so it confirms their importance this year. But I like this healing side of Laguz for you because it shows that you're recovering from the things and the ailments that have been bothering you (for some of you these might even be physical). Laguz has a rune of water also represents going with the flow, being very fluid and flexible - these are probably very important qualities that you'll be called to embody this year.

Your affirmation for 2025 is "I am willing to change". Pile 4 this is almost funny how in sync your whole reading is (at least up until now). This is confirmation again that there are a lot of changes coming for you this year, but it's also a reminder to remain flexible. Don't get too attached to any outcome, things will work out as they should and you will be fine.

check out the extended reading on Patreon

[solxamber]

Hi there! For the valentines event can I request Ace with romantic implications with the song "30 Second Love Story" by PEGGY with inspired by these specific lyrics? "There are millions of people, and millions of lifetimes And maybe in one of them, I found my voice And I told you I liked you, and then came for coffee In five years we're married, a house and a family" I know you said you are getting a lot of Ace requests but the brain rot is real if you're getting Ace-fatigue you can go with Sebek instead!

"I spent my whole life in a moment with you" || Ace Trappola

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: 30 Second Love Story by PEGGY

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 890

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Pining, Confessions

Ace is in love with you.

Painfully, irreversibly, hopelessly in love with you.

It hits him in flashes, in moments so ordinary they shouldn't feel life-changing—but they do. Like when you pass him a drink without him asking, already knowing what he likes. Like when you shoot him a grin after winning a game against him, smug and shining. Like when you nudge him with your shoulder while walking side by side, laughing, your warmth so close yet so far.

It happens when you hold his hand casually, fingers laced without a second thought, as if you don’t notice the way his heart hammers against his ribs. It happens when you lean into him during a movie, your weight comfortable and trusting, completely unaware that his pulse is racing.

He thinks about a future where this is normal—not just fleeting touches and teasing words, but something real. Something that lasts.

Mornings where he wakes up to you tangled in his sheets, sunlight catching in your hair. Breakfasts where he sneaks up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as you make coffee, pressing his face into the crook of your neck just to hear you laugh.

Lazy afternoons spent wrapped in each other on the couch, sharing popcorn and complaints about a bad movie. Evenings where he watches you from across the dinner table and still thinks, Damn, I love you.

A life with you. A future where he’s yours, and you’re his.

He dreams about it more than he should, and every time, he tells himself to stop.

He can’t ruin this. You’re his best friend. If he messes up—if he confesses and you don’t feel the same—then what? He’d lose everything.

So he stays quiet, keeps it locked inside his chest, lets himself drown in his own longing.

Until the day he doesn’t.

It’s a golden afternoon, the kind where the sun paints everything in its soft warmth, and you’re sitting next to him, talking animatedly about something—Ace isn’t even sure what, because all he can focus on is you.

The way your eyes light up when you get excited. The way your hand moves, expressive and unguarded. The way your fingers are wrapped around his, absently squeezing like it’s second nature.

And that’s when it happens.

His heart stutters, skips a beat, and suddenly, everything makes sense.

Why is he waiting? Why is he so scared?

You are his best friend. The one who laughs at his stupid jokes. The one who sticks by him even when he’s being a pain in the ass. The one who makes life better just by existing in it.

How could he not love you?

And how could he keep pretending that he doesn’t?

Before he can think, before doubt can creep in, he moves.

His free hand reaches for your face, cupping your cheek gently. You blink at him, startled, lips parting—ready to ask something, maybe—but he doesn’t give you the chance.

He leans in and kisses you.

It’s soft at first, tentative, his breath catching as he waits for you to pull away. But you don’t. You freeze for only a second before melting into him, fingers tightening around his.

The moment you respond—when your lips move against his, when you kiss him back with just as much warmth—it feels like something inside him clicks into place.

He’s never believed in fate, but this—this feels damn close to it.

When he pulls back, his heart is pounding, his stomach twisting in nervous anticipation. But the way you look at him, stunned and breathless and smiling—it’s everything he needs.

You don’t say anything. You just squeeze his hand, as if to say, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

And that’s all he needs to know.

Ace wakes up to the weight of you in his arms.

Sunlight filters through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the sheets, and he takes a moment to just—breathe. It's been five years, and he still can't believe this is real.

Your head is tucked beneath his chin, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. Your warmth is familiar now, expected, like it’s always meant to be there.

He shifts slightly, his fingers tracing absent patterns along your back, and you stir with a sleepy hum.

“Mm… Ace?” Your voice is drowsy, muffled against his chest.

“Morning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You tilt your face up to look at him, eyes still heavy with sleep, and he thinks, I’ll never get tired of this.

Never get tired of the way your nose scrunches slightly when you wake up. Never get tired of how soft you are against him, how safe you make him feel. Never get tired of the matching rings on your fingers, the quiet proof of the promise you made to each other.

“Five more minutes,” you mumble, nuzzling into him.

Ace huffs a laugh. “You say that every morning."

“And yet, I still get five more minutes every time.”

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair.

This is it.

The life he dreamed of—the one he was once too scared to reach for—is now his reality.

And as he kisses you awake, slow and sweet, he knows he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[leeeedith]

SEVENTEEN reaction to you fangirling over another idol

S.Coups 🍒

At first, he tries to act like he doesn't care. He's the leader of SEVENTEEN, after all—he's confident! But the moment you excitedly gush about another idol's charisma, he pouts. "Oh? So you like him that much, huh?" he asks, arms crossed. When you tease him by saying the idol is so cool, he huffs and pulls you into a tight backhug. "I thought I was your favorite." For the rest of the day, he randomly flexes—whether it's showing off his rap skills, lifting heavy things, or casually leading the group like the charismatic leader he is—just to remind you who your bias should be.

Jeonghan 😇

You don't even have to look at him to feel the dramatic side-eye. "Wow, so all this time... I was just second place?" he sighs, leaning back against the couch with his arms spread like he's been betrayed. If you try to cuddle him, he leans away dramatically. "No, no, go tell your new favorite idol how much you love them." Later, you catch him watching clips of the idol, and when you ask why, he shrugs. "Just checking the competition." Expect him to tease you forever after this: "Should I dye my hair like him? Would that make you love me more?"

Joshua 🐰

At first, he just laughs and nods. "Yeah? He's talented, that's cool." But when you start going on and on about how amazing the idol is, Shua's smile flaters for just a second. You don't notice it until he randomly pick up his guitar later that night. He just so happens to start playing a song by the idol. "Oh, what a coincidence! I felt like learning it today," he says casually. But you notice the way he's looking at you, waiting for a reaction. You kiss his cheek and whisper, "You're still my number one, you know?" and boom, the biggest sunshine smile appears.

Jun 🐱

The moment you start fangirling, he immediately tries to one-up the idol. "Hah! That's nothing. Watch this!" And suddenly, he's performing an entire dance routine in the middle of the living room. If you compliment the idol's visuals, Jun runs a hand through his hair and smirks. "But I'm still the most handsome, right?" If you don't answer, he gasps automatically. "You hesitated! Betrayal!" Later, you catch him watching videos of the idol, muttering, "Hmph. He's okay, I guess."

Hoshi 🐯

Dramatic. That's the only way to describe it. "WHAT?!! I THOUGHT I WAS YOUR ONE AND ONLY??!" He literally falls to the floor and fake cries into his hands. If you keep talking about the idol, he'll suddenly jump up and start doing the most intense dance routine you've ever seen, just to prove he's better. Later, he sulks, poking your cheek. "You don't love me anymore..." When you assure him that he's still your ultimate bias, he hugs you tightly and grins. "That's right! Your heart only belongs to Horanghae!"

Wonwoo 🦊

He just... blinks at you. "Oh, really?" Acts completely unbothered at first, but later that night, you catch him subtly researching the idol. "I just wanted to see what's so great about them," he says, trying to sound casual. If you keep teasing him about being jealous, he deadpans: "I'm not jealous. I'm just... analyzing the competition." But the next day, he starts dressing a little differently, just a little bit closer to the idol's style. Coincidence? Maybe.

Woozi 🍚

He pauses, squints at you, and says nothing for a solid five seconds. "...Excuse me?" Act like he doesn't care, but a few hours later, he's suddenly in the studio, making a song 10x better than the idol's latest track. If you keep teasing him, he roasts the idol's entire discography. "That beat? Weak. Lyrics? Mid. Melody? Could be better." He won't outrgith admit he's jealous, but when you cuddle up to him and whisper, "I love you the most," he smiles to himself.

DK 🍕

Gasps. Loudly. Dramatically. "WHAAAAAT, BUT I'M YOUR NUMBER ONE FAN!" He acts like you just broke his heart. But five minutes later, he's back to smiling because he can't stay mad at you. Still, he starts randomly singing the idol's songs around the house. In a ridiculously dramatic way. "Oh, this song? Yeah, I could totally sing it beter. Should I cover it?" If you kiss his cheek and say, "You're the best singer in the world to me," he melts into a sunshine ball of happiness.

Mingyu 🐶

Insant pout mode activated. "Hmph, I thought I was the only handsome guy in your life." He purposely becomes extra clingy, wrapping his long arms around you and nuzzling into your neck. "You don't need another idol when you have me." Will literally try to distract you from fangirling by flexing his muscles or cooking your favorite meal. And if you giggle and call him cute? He pouts even more.

The8 🐸

Minghao glances at you with mild disappointment the moment you start gushing about another idol. "Tsk, tsk. Bad taste." He shakes his head dramatically before sipping his tea like an ancient philosopher. He acts completely unbothered, but later, you notice he's scrolling through photos of the idol. "Hmph. He's okay, I guess," he mutters. Then suddenly, he's dressed even more stylishly than usual, rocking a whole new outfit like he just stepped off a runway. "What? I just felt like changing things up," he says cooly. If you keep teasing him, he'll just smirk and casually backflip away. "Okay, but can they do this?" When you finally hug him and whisper, "You're still the coolest in my heart," he smirks. "I know."

Seungkwan 🍊

Gasps. Loudly. Dramatically. Hands over heart like you just shattered his soul. "EXCUSE ME?! I give you my heart and soul, and this is how you repay me?" He immediately starts roasting the idol. "What do you mean he's funny? I'm funnier. What do you mean he sings well? Have you heard my high notes??" If you try to explain, he turns away dramatically. "No, no. I understand. I was a fool to think I was special." For the rest of the week, he randomly reminds you: "Oh, you like him so much, why don't you go to his concert, huh?" But the second you grab his face and say, "Seungkwan, you are my one and only bias," he immediately melts and hugs you. "Okay, I forgive you. But just know, I'm the best."

Vernon 🐢

Blinks. "Oh... cool, cool." Tries so hard to act chill, but the next day, he suddenly starts rapping more or copying the idol's vibe. "Oh, they rap? Hm. Interesting. I also rap." You catch him watching clips of the idol, and when you call him out, he just shrugs. "Just... checking something."

Dino 🦖

Oh, it's on. "Pfft, I bet I can dance better than them." Immediately starts showing off his moves, even when it's completely unnecessary. Later, he crosses his arms and huffs. "I'm still the best maknae in your heart, right?" When you assure him he is, he grins. "Good! Because no one outshines Lee Chan!"

[mapiforpresident]

Hi, Can i request a songfic? with the lyrics from „i cant help falling in love with you“ with R having to pick up drunk Leah or drunk Alexia (or Mapi choose whoever you want) from a party with their teammates and Alexia/Leah or Mapi tells R just how much she loves her in front of her teammates? And later a bit suggestive maybe? If its ok ofc. Love ur fics btw. Have a good day, evening or whatever

I Can't Help Falling in Love with You

Leah x reader

warnings: alcohol

~~~

You weren’t sure how you ended up in this situation. The party had started innocently enough, a celebration with Leah and her teammates after a long and hard-fought match. Everyone was letting loose and enjoying themselves. But somewhere between dancing to terrible pop songs and having a few drinks, things went from fun to... chaotic.

When you received the call, you didn’t expect to hear Leah’s slurred voice on the other end.

“Heyyyy, babe…” Leah hiccuped, the background noise loud with laughter and music. “I... hic I think I need your help.”

You frowned, looking around your living room where you had just gotten comfortable after a long day. “What’s going on, Le? You okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m… I’m fine, but, um, I can’t find the hic keys to the Uber… and I need to get home…” She paused, and you could hear her giggle faintly. “Also, I might have had a few too many drinks and... I might be in love with you… just, you know, casually telling you now. In case you didn’t know. I really love you.”

You smiled softly at her words, but you couldn’t help the concerned feeling rising in your chest. “Leah, where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“Right here! At the party… with my teammates… just… hic come and get me, yeah? I hic miss you…” Her voice was soft, almost tender, and you could hear the affection in it.

With a sigh, you grabbed your jacket and your keys. “Stay put, I’m on my way.”

When you pulled up to the party venue after looking at Leah's find my iphone, it was clear that Leah wasn’t the only one who had overdone it. The place was loud and filled with Leah's teammates, most of them either dancing, laughing, or finding their own corners to relax. You spotted Alessia first, sitting with Kyra and Vic at a table with drinks in hand.

But you didn’t see Leah.

Your heart skipped a beat as you walked toward them, trying to keep your cool. “Hey, have you seen Leah?” you asked, voice steady.

Alessia looked up at you with a half-smile, eyes slightly hazy. “She’s, uh, sitting in the corner by the window… She might have had a little too much to drink, but you know how she gets. She’s a mess.”

Kyra snickered, clearly enjoying this more than she should.

Rolling your eyes, you made your way through the crowd, weaving in and out of people until you finally saw Leah.

She was sitting on a couch, her head resting on her hand as she looked up at you with wide eyes.

“There you are!” Leah smiled drunkenly, her voice soft and sweet. “I knew you’d come… I really missed you… you look so beautiful tonight. I love you so much. You have no idea.”

You felt your heart swell as you crouched in front of her, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Le, come on, let’s get you home, yeah? You’re not in any condition to be out here anymore.”

“No, no,” she protested, shaking her head. “I’m not done having fun. You… you know what’s so crazy? I can’t help it... I just keep falling in love with you over and over.”

You raised an eyebrow, not able to resist teasing her. “Leah, you’re drunk.”

“I know,” she said, her smile softening. “But I love you. I love you so much, you have no idea how much.”

“I love you too, Leah,” you said, your voice soft. “But let’s get you home first, okay?”

She beamed, pulling you into a soft kiss that caught you by surprise. When she pulled away, she looked up at you with stars in her eyes.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“You’re just saying that because you’re in love with me too.”

“Maybe,” you teased. “But we’re getting you home now, okay?”

Leah giggled, nodding as she stood up, swaying slightly. “Okay… just promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me you’ll still love me tomorrow, when I’m not drunk and I can remember all of this.”

You chuckled softly, guiding her toward the door. “I promise.”

As you led her out of the party and into the night air, you couldn’t help but smile at how crazy your relationship had been from the start, how it was always filled with moments of pure chaos, and yet, in that chaos, you were constantly reminded of just how much you loved her.

And maybe, just maybe, Leah was right—you couldn’t help falling in love with her either.

~~~

Feel free to leave a tip here. Not required at all and I still will write requests without it, but they are greatly appreciated and these requests are guaranteed in 2-3 days.

[muwapsturniolo]

Nipple or Tip ( • )( • ) C. Sturniolo

"I also saw one of those weird makeup hacks-"

⟢ funny shit tbh. nipples and tips of dick are mentioned as well as balls. chris being unhinged in ulta, reader done with his bs but also down with his bs.

dividers by the one and only rose toy @bernardsbendystraws

You were a beauty lover, it was well known by everyone in your life. When you were a kid, you were constantly in your moms makeup bag, messing up her high-priced lipsticks and eyeshadows on a daily basis.

As you got older, that love for makeup stayed.

You had a whole beauty room in your two-bedroom apartment. You had the vanity, the box lights as well as ring lights, and drawers on top of drawers filled with makeup you may not even have a chance to touch.

Chris knew of your love for makeup, he has been in you're beauty room one too many times to think otherwise. He never saw it as too much because he knew it was your way of expressing yourself - he was never the one to hate on expression.

So here he was, driving you to the place he should just invest in at this point.

Ulta.

You spent so much time there, that the workers recognize you. You have the credit card, you've racked up points, and you memorized the aisles. This was basically your third home, the first being your own and the second being Chris's.

"Alright, what do you need today?"

You proceed to go through your list as you walk inside the bright store, the sound of Billie's "Birds of a Feather" playing over the speakers. The song distracts him for a moment, but he comes back to reality hearing you say foundation.

"Wait, didn't you just get a new foundation?"

"Well...Yes, but I need another one!" He gives you a look as the two of you walk over to Wyn Beauty. "Technically, you don't need another one. You have about forty of them, but who am I to complain considering you're paying?"

It's comical to him the way you stop in your tracks, your eyes widening in disbelief. "What do you mean I'm paying? It's your turn to pay!"

Chris chuckles to himself, fixing the beanie on his head. "I'm just pulling your clit."

"Chris please stop fuckin' talking to me. That's not even how the damn saying goes!"

He giggles like a schoolboy and kisses your shoulder, motioning to the bright green packaging in front of you. "Go ahead and pick out your millionth foundation."

And so you do, you pick out a new foundation...and concealer, primer, setting spray, bronzer, lip gloss, and lipstick.

"Ok, now a lip liner." Your words spark Chris's interest, his mind going back to a specific video he saw not too long ago. The two of you start walking over to NYX, and he decides to fill you in on the content he consumed.

"So like, I saw this makeup video on tik- Why are you getting makeup videos on TikTok? What girl are you sending them to?"

"I'm getting them because of you, dumbass. You're the only girl that actually puts up with me, why would I talk to another one?" You snicker to yourself knowing he's right.

He's too in love with you to go find someone else.

"Anyway, like I was saying. I saw this video on TikTok where this girl was trying out these makeup hacks or secrets, whatever it's called. So she said the best way to match your lip liner is to match it to your nipples! Crazy shit, but it has me thinking, what if you matched it to the tip of my dick?"

All you could do was stare at him in silence.

"You being deadass?"

He shrugs before answering you, a smirk that shows he's up to no good making its way onto his face. "I mean, I think it would look nice on you. A nice pinky red....It's up your alley anyway considering you have a blush named 'orgasm' and a mascara called 'better than sex' ."

"Didn't I tell you to stop talking to me?" He groans and pulls you closer, his hands settling right on top of your ass. "Come on it would be funny! I will literally give you my card and let you roam in TJ Maxx and I will take you to Chili's!''

"You had me at TJ Maxx."

You whip your phone out, thanking yourself for buying a privacy screen, and begin scrolling through your privet photo albums to find a picture of Chris's dick.

"Wait, you should match one to your nipples too. Then we can compare which one looks better."

He could be so childish at times, but you were the exact same.

The two of you stand in the aisle, holding up different shades of pink and brown to your phone. Eventually, you two settle on "Rose" and "Nutmeg", the two colors being the closest you could get.

Soon the two of you are back in the car and Chris is urging you to try on both lip liners, refusing to drive until he sees them on you. You first try on the brown shade, lining your lips with ease. It was a pretty color, simple and not unusual considering you always wore brown lipliner.

You turn to Chris, asking him what he thinks. "Sexy as usual. You know I like it when you do the brown ones." You smile at his flattering words, giving him a quick peck on the lips before wiping the lip liner off. You unravel the pink liner and swipe it on, rubbing your lips together so it blends out.

"So what do we think? Nipple or tip?"

You see the way his eyes dart across your face, analyzing everything about you.

"Both look good, you know you can make everything look good. It's what I love about you." You find your cheeks getting warm, never getting used to the way he makes you feel so good, even on days when you look like a bum.

"Come on, I promised to let you roam in TJ Maxx." He puts the car in reverse and begins driving towards the retail store. The drive is quiet for the most part, nothing but music and the occasional small talk. As soon as the two of you make it to TJ Maxx, Chris turns to you before getting out of the car.

"You know, I also saw one of those weird makeup hacks where this girl put her foundation on with her boyfriend's balls."

"This the last time imma tell you to shut up talkin' to me!"

[innorality]

could you do satoru coming home with a huge scar on his stomach after not contacting his gf for weeks and then reassuring her with intimacy please?

HEAVEN CAN WAIT — G. SATORU

cw : sad in the beginning, afab reader, unprotected, p in v, honestly very cute sex nothing too kinky

a/n : tysm nonnie you gave me the opportunity to use this song as a title finally 🥹 also this idea is so cute like yes pls soft vanilla "I missed you sex" with satoru #needthat !!! also #satoruisalive I believe in it 💔 oh and I'm so sorry this feels very rushed and is not proofread :(

wc : 1335 words 😼

empty. cold. that’s how his side of the bed felt at the moment. it had been weeks since you last saw him, and days since his last message. your eyes stayed glued to your screen, rereading his final words over and over again.

"i luv youuu"

cold tears slipped down your cheeks. you weren’t even sure if they were from grief or from your irritated eyes after staring at the screen for so long without blinking. deep down, you knew the truth—you weren’t dumb. this was bound to happen one day. but you weren’t ready to accept it yet. you wanted to stay in denial just a little longer.

satoru was supposed to be the strongest. so why hadn’t he come home?

with a shaky breath, you shut your phone off and set it aside. hugging his pillow tightly, you buried your face into it—only to realize it didn’t even smell like him anymore.

silent sobs wracked your body as exhaustion finally overtook you.

but in the dead of night, a noise startled you awake.

footsteps.

first near the front door. then in the living room. the kitchen.

and now… heading toward your bedroom.

afraid, you hid under your blanket like a child. you didn’t know if it was reflex or true fear—because honestly, after losing the man you loved, life had lost all meaning.

the door slid open, and you held your breath.

then, a voice.

"baby?"

satoru.

your heart stopped, then raced. it was him. the way he said your name, the way his voice carried through the room—you had missed it more than words could express. before you could think, you jumped out of bed and ran straight into his arms, clutching him as if he might disappear again.

he hugged you back just as tightly.

"where… where the hell were you?! you don’t know how worried i was, how much i cried! i thought you were—"

his lips met yours, silencing your frantic words with a soft peck.

"now, now," he murmured against you, his tone laced with that familiar teasing warmth. "i’m here, and that’s all that matters, pretty."

you pouted, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks as you buried your face into his chest, holding him closer. but then your fingers brushed against something different—a rougher patch of skin around his stomach.

a scar.

your breath hitched. "how did you..."

he turned away slightly, avoiding your gaze. guilty. he didn’t want to talk about it.

so you didn’t push.

instead, he gently eased you back onto the bed, his lips finding yours again, slow and deliberate.

"i was this close to dying," he murmured between kisses, trailing from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck. "but i remembered you were waiting at home for me..." his words sent a shiver down your spine as his kisses grew deeper, needier.

"and i decided that heaven could wait."

you let out a breathless giggle, threading your fingers through his white locs."you think you’re going to heaven?" you teased, tugging playfully at his hair. "what a joke."

swiftly, he unbuttoned the blouse you had on and grabbed a handful of your breast, massaging it gently while sucking and nibbling on your neck to create a colorful bruise. sweet moans of his name slid out of between your lips against your will and he simply smirked at them.

"I know you cried, and I know you were cold," his eyes bored into yours, "but now that I'm here, I promise I won't ever leave again." and this time, you're the one that closed the space between your lips. you knew that his promise wasn't true at all, but you decided to ignore that fact and let yourself believe it for the span of a single night. in the heat of the moment, your hand slid down his chest and onto his pelvis, before sneaking its way into his pants, stroking his erection sensually.

satoru moaned into your mouth before taking this bold action of yours as a sign to give you pleasure aswell, his hand rubbing your pussy through your thin panties. "Oh shit- yeah, just like that, 'toru.." your head fell to the side as his hand slid into your panties, rubbing up and down your slit to collect some of your wetness before rubbing tight and quick circles onto your clit, making you needily clench around nothing.

meanwhile, your hand was still skillfully rubbing his cock, thumb rubbing on his tip making him jolt up from the sudden intense pleasure. satoru bit his lip before penetrating you with two of his digits, making you gasp in utter shock and awe. your breath followed the rhythm of his fingers that he pumped in and out of you, as you sped up the speed of your own hand.

as expected, you felt orgasm build up pretty quickly, and as you were of the edge of climaxing, you stopped him. "stop, stop! 'toru, stop it," and he quickly halted his movements, scanning your face for any signs of discomfort or pain. "I'm sorry baby, did I hurt you? I'm so fucking sorry, fuck-" you interrupted him, "no honey, I just..." you bit the inside of your cheek, "after all this time, I wanna cum on your dick, not your fingers..." and you felt his cock twitch at your words. he stared at you in shock before his expression turned into a lustful smile.

and before you even realized it, he had taken your hand out of his pants, before taking said pants off along with your panties in a span of a second. impressive.

"you know baby," he rubbed up and down your slit with the tip of his cock, "even though I won't go to heaven, I'll make sure you do," he aligned his tip with your entrance. "what do you mean?" he pressed a quick kiss against your lips. "I'll take you there myself." and with that, he bottomed out inside you in one swift motion.

your jaw dropped and you instinctively closed your eyes to embrace the familiar sensation of him inside you, but he tapped your cheek with his finger to get your attention. "eyes on me love." and so you obliged, opening your eyes to be met with an expression that seemed to be the results of a love and lust mix.

the sound of his hops meeting yours over and over again made you delirious along with the sensation of his cock claiming your insides and the intense eye contact you held with satoru. at some point, satoru can't hold in anymore—he whines and moans into your ear, whispering confessions such as "fuck– I love you too much, baby-" and "I missed this so bad... holy shit, yeah- I need this- oh fuck, yeah.." which did nothing but turn you on even more.

your hand went straight to your clit to rub it when you felt your orgasm building up again. satoru chased your high as much as you did, using his six eyes to hit all those gummy spots that made you see stars. "fuck- m'cumming, m'cumming!" you couldn't hold back your voice as your orgasm crashed over you without a warning. you struggled to keep your eyes on him as you twitched and shook with the intensity of the orgasm, as it had been weeks since you deemed yourself worthy enough to feel pleasure.

satoru's orgasm followed suit, shooting long ropes of cum into your womb, as your tight grip pulled strings of moans of your name out of his mouth.

as you both calmed down, satoru pulled his cock out and flopped on his back next to you.

a comfortable silence fell upon the both of you before you broke it, "you know," he hummed in acknowledgement, "you were right." his head whips to the side to look at you, who was already turned towards him. "what about?", you smiled, looking at the ceiling, "you did take me to heaven, after all."

you crawled on top of him to kiss his scar, making him feel a bit tingly. he patted your head, "and I'd do it all over again just for you, love."

[kleftiko]

❦ STOP THE WORLD CAUSE I WANNA GET OFF WITH YOU

“with the exception of you i dislike everyone in the room”

cw: highly suggestive, gn!reader, slight grinding, NOT PROOFREAD (whoops)

god, they were loud. drinking, cheering, singing—it was all too much. too much for law, who just wanted to slink away from the commotion to a quiet room. but, such was life with the strawhats, and such was life on their boat.

sanji hanging on every word that robin and nami said, showering them with freshly made pastries to pair with their drinks; brook hammering away at the keys of the piano, singing song after song that just encouraged the flow of the party. franky and chopper dancing ridiculously atop the table, forcing law to hold his food close for fear it would be stepped in.

and finally you—who was so enraptured by your conversation with your captain that you couldn’t glance over and see the longing look in law’s eyes; couldn’t see that the possibility of having a moment with you was the only reason he was putting up with the noisy crew that was starting to give him a headache.

but you were just so worth it in his mind. the way your eyes lit up listening to anyone, so genuinely interested in hearing about what they loved. watching you enjoy the little things that people often overlooked—the sun on your skin, grass between your toes. he wanted all that passion directed towards him. hell, he wanted all of you for himself.

and in the moment, watching you laugh at your idiot of a captain, so carefree with your happiness, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

the food he was absently munching on now abandoned as he made his way towards you. luffy’s protests ignored as he dragged you away from everyone else, relishing the dampening noise as the door closed behind the two of you, now the only sound being the footsteps between the two of you as you made your way down the hall.

“now, what was that for?” you finally spoke after law stopped walking, realizing he had no where to take you.

he turned towards you, amusement laced your pretty features, and it only made you all the most enticing to him.

“they annoy me.” he said.

you breathed out a laugh, unsurprised by his sentiments towards your crew.

“and i don’t?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

but he didn’t even grace you with another response as his lips met yours.

kissing law always started out so soft—timid almost. it’s not like he had much kissing to do on the ocean.

but his lips grazed yours so gently it was almost ticklish, bringing that godforsaken smile to your lips that made his knees feel like jelly. your arms came around his neck to pull him closer, feeling his warm breath caress your cheeks before indulging in his kisses.

he held you so close, tattooed hands trailing your body and committing it to his memory in the inevitable event that he would no longer be able to touch it. and that thought made him grab you harder, greedier. his tongue darted out apprehensively, wanting to taste you—all of you—but not knowing if he wanted to do it out in the hallway where anyone could walk out and see them. but you made that decision for him as you bit his lip, and the next thing he knew you two were making out, pushing each other up against the wall like a couple of teenagers; laughing into his mouth and sending shivers down his spine at the melodic sound of your voice.

god, you were a drug to him, the salty smell of the sea mixing with your scent drove him crazy. he knew he’d go back to his bed tonight in his day clothes just to catch the whiff of you that you’d leave on his shirt. his fingers would become cold at the memory of grabbing onto your warm skin and feeling the curves of your body.

but right now he was consumed by you. pushing your body against his and trapping him against the side of the sunny. your kisses were no longer innocent, now they were eager and lustful, his fingers wound in the small hairs at the base of your neck to maneuver you how he pleased. his leg slotted between yours to teasingly graze against your sensitive core so he could swallow more of those delicious sounds you made.

god, he needed you. all of you. his free hand crawled beneath your shirt, carelessly lifting it as he raised goosebumps up your torso. you leaned further into him (if that was even possible), grinding your hips against him as you started to moan into his lips. law thought he had died and gone to heaven, that was the only logical reason he could think of for the situation he was in.

the fingers caressing your skin moved up further, he finally didn’t care where he was, he just need you.

you gasped his name breathlessly, a desperate moan against his lips at the pleasure he granted you. he moved to your neck, sucking harshly at your soft skin and allowing him to hear the beautiful noises you made just for him.

you grasped onto his shirt, nails slightly grazing his skin and making him shiver, his own hands greedily groping your flesh, yanking you into him.

god, there couldn’t be anything better in the world right now.

[starmocha]

ROXIE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH OMG THIS WAS SUCH A NICE SURPRISE 🥹💖

the way i actually stopped everything earlier at work because i wanted to read this immediately lmao i'm glad you dropped it on a Saturday <333

I absolutely knew you would do justice with this prompt. It is so cute omg I seriously can't stop smiling. This is going straight into my comfort stash 💖💖💖

EVERYONE SHOULD READ THIS FIC AND SHOW ROXIE SOME LOVE. THE CALEB FLUFF IS ✨IMMACULATE✨

OK bye sweetness love you forever and ever thank you for always being you and blessing the world with this gem 🥹💖

≡;-꒰ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒄𝒐𝒛𝒚

╰┈➤ ❝ caleb x afab!reader | VALENTINE'S EVENT !

tags : mostly fluff, slightlyyyyy suggestive at the start but nothing explicit, established relationship, use of pet names "baby" and "pipsqueak".

wc : 1.6k (oops)

an : DROPPING THIS BEFORE I GO TO BED :D requested by @starmocha !!!! this prompt had me squealing hehe 🥰🥰🥰

taglist : under the cut! (SIGN UP HERE)

ko-fi jar / commissions

It's 1AM, and you're hungry, so what better place to go than the convenience store down the block?

"I'm hungry."

The sheets rustled.

Caleb shifted onto his side to look at you, head resting in his palm, eyebrows raised. You could see the way his eyes raked over you appreciatively for a moment, almost as if seeing you in a new light again, almost as if he hadn't been all over you just a couple of minutes ago.

With his free hand, he reached out to tuck an awry strand of hair behind your ear. It was a soft gesture.

yet when he spoke, there was a laugh to his voice. "You're hungry?"

You whined. "Not that kind of hungry! Like, actually hungry! Come onnnnnn. Aren't you?"

"Baby, it's past midnight. Aren't you tired? You should be a good girl and get some rest—"

Despite the phrase deliberately used—you were sure—to bring butterflies to your stomach, you promptly gave him a playful shove. "Well, I'm not gonna be able to sleep if I'm hungry, anyway. So your attempts at persuading me are void!"

To make a point, you sat up and crosses your arms, looking at him expectantly.

An impasse, of sorts.

The two of you looked at each other, silent, a few seconds—

Caleb was the first to relent.

"Alright, alright, we'll get some food. There's that convenience store down the block, that enough?" He sat up along with you and slipped out of bed, trodding towards his closet to throw you one of his sweaters. "It'll be cold out, so wear that for a while. Just a lil somethin' to keep you warm."

You held it close to your chest—it smelled like him. And it was as if you weren't already in his t-shirt, anyway; as if he hadn't left enough of his own marks on you that night, but you were happy to have a little something on you that reminded you of him.

You hopped out of bed yourself and, to make a point, grabbed one of his caps to put on your head.

"Ready!"

And perhaps it was because it was late, and barely anyone would be outside anyway, but it seemed neither of you cared that you'd be leaving in your pajamas.

Caleb tugged at your hand, pulling you close.

"I hope you know that I love seein' you in my clothes," he chuckled. "Makes you look extra gorgeous."

And you could think to yourself that you were so used to his charm, maybe even desensitized… but he would always find ways to prove you wrong. An additional kiss to your forehead had you melting in an instant, and then he still had the audacity to send you a wink.

"Caleb!" you huffed as he pulled away and ushered you outside, the gleeful sound of his laughter never failing to astonish you.

Seriously, the audacity of this man!

And yet you couldn't quite complain, not with the way your heart filled with a complete and utter sense of fondness for him. It didn't matter the hour, didn't matter that the breeze of the dawn before you made you feel a little cold. He squeezed your hand and quietly put it into his pocket… and, really—with your hand in his and his presence beside you, it was all the warmth you could ever need.

As you walked to the convenience store, your free hand took a glance at the time on your phone.

"1:43AM," you mused, "on… February 14th. Huh, look at that! So our Valentine's date this year's to a convenience store?"

You felt him peek over your shoulder, and he let out a laugh. "Guess it is Valentine's, huh? Happy Valentine's Day, pipsqueak." He gave your hair a little ruffle, before the little jingle of your very destination had him tugging you through the doors.

As you expected: quite empty.

He nudged your arm. "I mean, I'm still takin' you out for a date later today," he shrugged, "but as an extra treat, then you've got free reign gettin' whatever you want. I'll pay."

Immediately your eyes brightened, a squeal falling from your lips enough to draw a quizzical stare from the cashier lady, and you squeezed his arm. "Really?!"

"Yeah, really!"

"Oh my god! You better not go back on that promise!"

"Be real. When have I ever, with you?"

You felt another surge of warmth rush through you, and you stood on your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips. "God, I love you!"

And it wasn't really as if you didn't have a little bit of your own snack stash still left at home, but who were you to refuse a free gift?

There was a bounce to your step as you walked through the aisles, and you supposed that neither of you were acting as if it were practically two in the morning. The irony stood—despite everything else being quiet around you two, there was enough joy in the simplest things with him to get you all bouncy like this.

You turned to him with your arms full of little snacks, and laughed as you held one up for him. "Hey! Remember this one? The first time you brought this home, it was 'cause some girl from your class got you this." The memory made you laugh, and you turned the packet over in a moment of nostalgia. "I haven't had these in forever, for some reason, but they were really good. That girl had taste…"

A flick to your forehead.

"Hey!"

He snatched a couple of the packets you were carrying and put them into the basket he was holding, all while giving you a pointed look. "Doesn't matter who got them first," he scoffed, "'cause I brought them home for you."

A smile played on your lips.

"Well… she wasn't the first to give you stuff, nor was she the last."

"Aaand like I said, it doesn't matter."

This time, you grinned and tiptoed to return the forehead flick he'd given you just earlier. "Why're you so upset about it? Of course the golden boy would always get so much attention from all the girls—"

"Sooo I'd get all that attention from 'em, and then disregard their gifts just so you'd have somethin' to have fun with when we got home."

You paused, and he gave a playful roll of his eyes.

"I gotta hand it to ya, pipsqueak, sometimes you spend a lil too much time up there in the clouds."

"What!?"

He held up a box of cookies that you were familiar with.

"This one's been your favorite for as long as I can remember. Some girl gave one of these to me back in middle school… But I knew you'd love 'em. So I gave 'em to you."

Another box of snacks.

"You always say you don't like these, but I see you sneak them back to your room when no one's lookin'… Happened to get this as a gift, too, so I left them in your room when we got back."

And you watched, somewhat amazed, as he held up the very same packet you'd been examining earlier.

"And, sure, maybe you've never had this one before… But you were always a lil adventurous. It was strawberry. I remember, 'cause you like strawberries. So I thought you might've wanted to give this a try, too."

Your gaze followed his movements as he took the liberty to grab a couple more snacks from the shelves, and though he turned back to you with a smile, you found your mind still reeling from what he'd said.

It was always you. From the very start, he…

"I've always watched you," he said simply. Because he could read you like an open book, and some things just don't change. He shrugged, leaned down towards you to give the tip of your nose a little poke. "I saved those for you, 'cause I know you. And you think any of those girls ever mattered to me? Nah. It was always just about you. And you got to relish in all those little snacks, so, you know. Win-win situation if I get to make you happy."

For a moment you didn't speak, and you felt the blush slowly begin to creep up your cheeks.

You'd never realized it before; maybe never even bothered to check for yourself.

Sure, you maybe thought all of those were from him, and, sure, when you found out they weren't directly, you felt a little upset, but…

It was more than just material to poke fun at him for being popular.

Your eyes softened. "So… you were thinking about me."

"Pshh. I always think about you, baby. Not a moment goes by where I don't."

You watched him walk away with a wave of his hand, under the guise of 'checking out the drinks while you think of what else you wanted', and a flurry of butterflies stirred anew in your heart.

As you hurried to catch up with him and stood by him at the counter, he chuckled. "I always thought you'd find out then and there how much I liked you, you know."

"I guess you were being obvious about it, in a way…"

"Yeah, and you were too busy relishing in the free snacks."

"Hey!"

He laughed, grabbing the bag of your little snack haul, and smoothly looped your arms back together.

"Weeelll," he hummed, "now you get to say with certainty that all this here's from me. And I get to do this…"

The minute you stepped outside the convenience store, he leaned down to give you a soft kiss. And again, you'd think—there couldn't possibly be a cozier place to be than right here with him in this moment.

"…You don't need to use gifts from someone else to get me snacks anymore," you laughed a little.

"Mhm, I can get 'em for you myself. And seal it with a lil kiss."

taglist : @darlingdummycassandra @daturasflower @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @cordidy @raiyuxa @xai-mery @pikachuzhc @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @hunters-association

© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i hate the way i don't hate you

for @steddielovemonth inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You

rated m | 2571 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: inspired by 10 things i hate about you but it's so short so keep that in mind, enemies to friends to lovers, time skips, getting together, falling in love, modern au

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

“Let me get this straight: you asked him out as part of a bet.”

“Mhm.”

“Because he’s insufferable and everyone in your little misfit group decided it would be funny.”

“Uh huh.”

“And your plan was to stand him up at prom so he would know how it feels to be heartbroken.”

“In a nutshell.”

“And then you fell in love with him.”

Eddie blinks at Robin, who looks like she might kill him with her bare hands. Honestly, he deserves it. He kinda hopes she makes him suffer.

“All signs point to yes,” he says.

She sighs. And then she sits down. And then sighs again.

“This is absolutely bullshit, you know that right?” She finally asks. “Steve’s a good person. He never deserved to be treated like his feelings don’t matter.”

“I know. And I should’ve known that from the beginning.”

“You fucked this up. He’s gonna hate you.”

Eddie knows that’s a good possibility. He hopes Steve is forgiving, but he knows he doesn’t deserve to ask him to be.

“If he does, I deserve it. But I came to you because I couldn’t lie anymore,” Eddie knows his reputation with his friends is on the line. He doesn’t care. “I’m gonna talk to him tonight and let him make his own decision.”

“You’re gonna tell him the day of prom that his prom date is an asshole?” Robin stands up again. “You’re gonna ruin his senior prom.”

“I’m ruining it either way. People are gonna tell him about it at prom if I don’t tell him before,” Eddie argues. “He deserves to hear it from me.”

“He deserves to not be a circus act,” Robin says, but nods. “Make sure you return your tux tomorrow. His card will get charged a penalty if it’s late.”

Eddie doesn’t tell her he already returned the tux. He figures it’s probably not the time.

He knows Steve won’t want to be near him after he tells him about the bet.

****

One month earlier

“You’d never land a guy like that anyway,” Gareth jokes. “Steve Harrington wouldn’t even glance your way let alone date you.”

“He’s so uptight, he’d laugh in your face if you even tried,” Frankie adds.

Eddie watches Steve carry Robin’s books to her locker so she can carry her trumpet case and science project.

“Wanna bet?”

****

Two weeks earlier

“You write music?” Steve asks as Eddie closes his notebook.

“I try,” Eddie smiles at him. “It’s not always good. It’s rarely good.”

“Could I hear some of it?”

“Maybe.” Eddie lights his cigarette, smirking around it as Steve’s cheeks turn a rosy pink. “Do you like metal?”

“I’ve never really listened to it,” Steve admits. “But I’d give it a shot if that’s what you wrote.”

“Come to my band’s show this weekend. I might play an original song as our encore,” Eddie says. “Might even dedicate it to you.”

The blush gets deeper.

****

The night before

“You know I used to wanna be an astronaut?” Steve says as he leans his head onto Eddie’s shoulder. “Still would if I was any good at math. I mean, I get by in class, but I’m in the easiest classes. Probably not astronaut material. Plus, I get seasick.”

Eddie laughs, something he’s done a lot with Steve. Something he never expected to be doing so much, actually.

“You could still work with NASA. Maybe you can’t go to space, but you could help people get there,” Eddie offers. “They’ve got plenty of people working in the office.”

“Yeah, but I think it would be hard to be so close, yet so far, ya know? Like I’m technically no closer to space there than I am right now. If anything, I’d be farther because I’d be stuck in a building, but here I’m with you,” Steve says simply.

Eddie leans his head on top of Steve’s, looking ahead instead of above.

His heart skips a beat when Steve’s hand rests on his knee.

“I’m glad I get to be here with you,” he says quietly.

Eddie swallows around another lie.

****

Present day

“Eddie! What’re you doing here?”

Eddie hates how excited Steve is to see him. It’s gonna make this so much harder.

His chest aches as he gives him a small, fake smile. Steve notices immediately because of course he does. Steve sees Eddie in ways his own friends don’t.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, and Eddie can hear it already in his tone, the way his body is rearing up for disappointment. Steve’s said it himself before: he’s always prepared for the other shoe to drop because everyone’s got two feet.

“Can we sit?”

“No. You can tell me whatever it is just like this.”

Eddie accepts it because arguing now isn’t going to help anything. Sitting or standing, Steve is going to be pissed at him.

“I can’t go to prom with you.”

Steve is looking at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean? Was something wrong with the tux? It’s not a big deal if you wanna go in jeans. I promise I was kidding about leaving you in a corner.”

Eddie gives an unamused laugh. “No, that’s- no. I lied to you. For over a month now. I only asked you out because my friends didn’t think you’d even talk to me, let alone agree to go to prom with me.”

Steve’s silence hurts almost as much as the tears that are gathering in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I ever even bet them that I could get you to go out with me. I’m sorry that sorry isn’t enough.”

Eddie can feel tears in his own eyes, but it’s not fair of him to cry. He caused this. He’s the reason Steve is upset. He shouldn’t get to be upset in front of him.

“Steven! The tux is pressed!” Steve’s mom yells from the front door. “Come inside so I can make sure the tailor got the sleeves right.”

Steve breathes in slowly before turning to his mom and telling her he’ll be in in a minute. He turns back to Eddie and sniffles.

“I guess I’ll see you at school.”

“Steve, I’m sorry. Really.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Steve walks into the house, leaves Eddie in the driveway.

****

Eddie paces his room.

There’s not a lot of space to do that, but he manages to wear a track in the carpet. Wayne will be home any minute asking him why he isn’t at the prom, why he isn’t with Steve.

Eddie will tell him and he’ll give him that same look he did when he told him about turning a kid away from Hellfire Club. It’s disappointment, and Eddie hates it.

The front door opens, Wayne’s footsteps echo to the kitchen while he puts away his ice pack and leftover containers from lunch, he pops open a can of beer, and then walks to Eddie’s room. He knocks on the door.

Eddie starts crying.

Wayne rushes into his room, sets his beer on the bedside table, and gathers Eddie into his arms.

“What’s goin’ on, son? Thought you’d be getting ready for your dance,” Wayne says, but it just makes Eddie cry harder.

Eventually, he calms down enough to explain.

Wayne keeps holding him because Wayne will always hold him, even when he’s disappointed in him.

“Well, he didn’t punch ya in the face,” Wayne finally says. “You apologized?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t matter. I still hurt him and he won’t forgive me.”

“You think you deserve to be forgiven?” He wasn’t asking meanly, just genuinely inquiring.

“I don’t know,” he admits.

If he’d asked earlier, he would’ve given a resounding ‘no.’ But he knows how sorry he is, and even though Steve probably never will forgive him, he does hope he will.

“If you’re really sorry, he’ll forgive ya,” Wayne settles on.

Eddie shakes his head, wipes his eyes and then his nose, frowning at the snot on his fingers. He wipes it on his shirt and falls back on his bed. Wayne laughs at him, pats his chest, and stands to leave.

“You could do something big for him,” Wayne suggests.

“Like what?”

“I dunno, you showed him that song you wrote about him yet?”

“I can’t show him that! Not now!”

“Why not? It’s about as big a declaration of love you can give.”

Eddie hates when Wayne’s right.

****

He gets Robin on board with bribery. A lot of it.

Money is definitely involved, more money than he really should spend, as well as his best weed (“it’s not for me!”) and free rides for the entire summer whenever she wants.

But she agrees to get Steve to The Hideout on Saturday night. She’s not good at lying, but she manages to tell a half-truth and Steve believes her.

Eddie’s a nervous wreck. His bandmates were read the riot act from him and from Wayne. They all apologized to Steve at school, though he didn’t really accept them.

It didn’t give Eddie much hope at all.

He’s doing it anyway.

Robin put in the effort of getting Steve here, so he’s gotta do it.

“You know ‘em and sometimes like ‘em just fine…Corroded Coffin!”

The guys all go on stage ahead of him when the crowd starts cheering. He takes one more deep breath and follows.

Gareth counts them in and they play.

It’s good, maybe one of their liveliest crowds yet. He can’t see many of the faces, but he knows Steve’s there. He saw Robin’s shirt when the lights dimmed between the first song and the second. She wouldn’t stay if Steve left.

Jeff introduces them after the third song like always, but pokes a little fun at Eddie.

“Sorry about our guitarist being a bit moody. He’s feeling deeply emotional about love,” Jeff starts the next song before Eddie can argue.

It’s a great show.

Everyone’s having fun, even Eddie.

But then the guys all sip on water and it’s Eddie’s turn to introduce his song. The song for Steve.

“Hey everyone,” Eddie starts, awkwardly. He’s not usually like this on stage. “Got a new song tonight. I wrote this for someone who I don’t deserve, but who I care about a lot. I know he’s mad and he should be. It may not fix anything, but I hope he knows that I mean every word.”

Gareth’s drums are soft for this one, just there to keep the beat with Frankie on the bass. Jeff moved out of the spotlight, still playing rhythm, but keeping the attention on Eddie while he sings.

He sings about falling for someone unexpected, wanting to create a love story better than Shakespeare. He sings about the boy who wanted to discover the stars, and the boy who wanted to hold his hand while he did. He sang about not knowing that he was capable of this kind of love, and wanting to have it forever.

When the song ends, the crowd claps, but they clearly aren’t here for the romantic ballad he just sang.

He lets Gareth count in for the next song and they go back to the loud, chest-thumping music they usually play.

He doesn’t see Robin anymore, and he decides then that if Steve left, he did everything he could for now. He can’t be more sorry than he is and he can’t force Steve to think more of him.

“Good show guys,” Jeff says as they tear down the stage. All of them are responsible for their own equipment, but they also help out the bar manager by unplugging the electrical and rolling the wires when they’re done. “And a great job on your song, Eddie.”

“Thanks,” Eddie gives him a small smile as he closes his guitar case. “Don’t know if it worked.”

“It did.”

Eddie turns at Steve’s voice, nearly falling over when he sees how good Steve looks. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and ripped jeans, something outside of his norm, probably trying to fit in with this crowd a bit. Eddie wants to kiss him.

“Steve.” Eddie isn’t sure who’s talking, but it must be him because Steve’s looking at him with shining eyes and the same smile he always gave him when he looked like he wanted to hold his hand. “You’re here.”

“Robin insisted,” Steve admits, stepping closer to Eddie. “But then I told her to head home so I could talk to you.”

“Oh.”

Steve’s mouth lifts in a smirk for a moment before he schools his features again.

“So you wrote that song for me?”

“Yeah. Is it too much?”

Steve steps closer again, only a few inches separating them now. He shakes his head. “Not too much, no. Maybe just enough.”

“Enough for you to forgive me?”

“I might be on the path of forgiveness.” Steve touches his chest, palm over his heart. “But can I ask you something?”

“Anything. Whatever you want.”

“What were you hoping to happen when you made the bet?”

Eddie has to think about that. Of all the things he’s thought about, this isn’t one of them.

Steve waits for him, though. He’s patient. One of the many amazing things about him.

“I think I just wanted to be right about you,” Eddie finally admits.

Steve nods once. “A lot of people wanna assume things about me because of who my friends were a couple years ago, and who my parents are, and how I always dress nice and act like a bitch. It’s easier to just think I’m a bad person than think I have any depth at all. Especially in high school. Even though most of us are adults now, no one really acts like it.”

“I’m extremely immature. You should probably know that if you’re gonna forgive me,” Eddie says.

“You’re not as immature as you pretend to be at school,” Steve smiles. “I’ve seen you, Ed. I know the bad boy against the grain guy isn’t all you are.”

“And I know there’s a lot more to you than your pretty face, though that’s a bonus.”

Steve kisses him and the guys all cheer for him. He’s laughing against Steve’s mouth, waving one hand at the guys to make them leave.

“Robin said you were crying when you told her,” Steve whispers against his mouth.

“She’s a traitor.”

“So you were?”

Eddie sighs. “Yes, I cried. I hated how much I knew it would hurt you to find out the truth.”

“You still have to make it up to me a little,” Steve says.

“Oh yeah? How?”

“Well, I remember something in the song about worshiping me on your knees? Or was that a weird religious reference?”

Eddie kisses Steve again, smiling so much that their teeth clack against each other almost painfully.

“I’m an atheist,” Eddie replies.

“We’ve got a long night ahead of us then, don’t we?”

Eddie groans. “I still have to help load all our stuff-”

“Dude. You were forgiven by a guy who definitely could find better than you. We can handle the stuff. Consider it more of an apology for us being dicks, too,” Jeff interrupts.

Steve grabs Eddie’s shirt and tugs him along. “I’m not gonna tell them I forgive them until tomorrow.”

“Good idea.” Eddie looks down at the way Steve’s ass fills out the jeans he’s in. “On second thought, maybe next week sometime.”

[bloomstream]

just saw your cheerleader x bhna boys and 🤯🤯 I LOVE ITT

could you do this but with musical theatre reader and maybe add shinso?? 💗🤗

⋆˚࿔ behind the spotlight

— includes : kirishima, kaminari, sero, & shinsou (in that order)

𓂃　♪　𓈒 cw: mostly gn!reader but eiji and denki say girlfriend once, fluff, established relationship, babe and baby used

𓂃　★ 𓈒 a/n: thank u for the request anon! i’ll take this as a sign to never exclude shinsou again lolol so i added a little extra for u shinsou fans

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

eijiro is your biggest fan, making you feel like a mainstream actor. when you tell him you landed the lead role in newest musical, he seemed to be more excited than you! “i know you could do it, you’re the best!”

eijiro acts like your manager—a super nice one of course—he helps you rehearse your lines and guides you through warming up your voice.

he comes to every rehearsal he can make it too. eijiro cheers for you and your peers. your peers actually love him, how could they not? stage crew like to use him to carry and lift things, he enjoys doing these things knowing they help you in the long run.

secretly memorizes all the songs (and learns the meaning behind each of them) you’re singing so he won’t only be watching but also understanding.

his favorite musical is legally blonde! he thinks it’s super fun and elle woods quickly becomes his new inspiration.

on opening night, he gives you a bouquet of flowers before you go and stage. even in a rush he can’t help but encourage you, “can’t wait to see you on stage baby, i’m so excited.”

he is cheesing in the front row seats, his eyes not leaving you for a single second. he’s the first one standing when the show is over, clapping as the curtains come to a close.

“you were so good!” he engulfs you in a bear hug and you laugh. he is also brought to tears when he sees your glowing face, you’re like a real-life star and he gets to live in your glory.

after another bouquet of flowers and a million praises, he finally takes you home.

for the next three week he’s singing non-stop, the songs from the musical stuck in his head.

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

denki doesn’t know much about musical theater but after watching your first performance he finds that it’s his new eye candy.

when you tell him you landed the lead role denki grins, “what do i always say? my girlfriend is crazy talented!” his arm is draped around your shoulder. he pulls you closer, leaning down to kiss your cheek, “you’re gonna do amazing, i know it.”

tries his best to help you rehearse but gets distracted. “wait so, she has a crush on her sister's husband? that’s fucked up man.” even with his confusion he still manages to be super into the drama of it all.

denki lets you practice your stage makeup on him and is actually excited when you ask him to. thought by the end of it, he’s unsure, “are my cheeks supposed to be that… pink?”

would lose his mind if you had to do an onstage kiss. “can’t you just high-five instead! i mean you don’t have to kiss!” he says while he crosses his arm, practically pouting.

his favorite musical is heathers, no explanation needed. spongebob is a close second.

has tried to help backstage once but accidentally bumped into a switch and caused a power outage. the stage crew has been a little more cautious around him after that.

arrived to your show right as it starts so he can’t see you face to face until after the show, he’s devastated about this.

runs backstage as soon as the curtains fall, screaming. “BABE! YOU DID GREAT OUT THERE!” crushing you in a hug. he pulls back to hand you some flowers, the bouquet looking a bit shabby because he got fidgety during the show. “you're a star, should sign with broadway.” he teases as he walks you out.

denki somehow convinced the other theater kids to have an after party. so you spend the night celebrating with your boyfriend who makes this accomplishment feel special.

he may have auditioned for the next show to surprise you but didn’t get the role so he never told you about it.

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

hanta acts chill, but in the inside, he is amazed on how you keep on becoming more and more perfect, “lead role? holy shit babe that’s huge!” he brings you close and ruffles your hair “looks like i got an actor on my hands now.” he teases.

hanta is an absolute sweetheart, but he’s no actor. “oh no, how could you do this to me. i’m in completely despair.” he reads off the script with not a single hit of emotion behind his words. he then looks up with you with a grin, “did i do it good?” he’s trying his best to help you.

if you have a dance-heavy role he’ll joke about being jealous of your dance partner (he is not joking, he is jealous). he offers to help you practice dancing; this is mostly for his own pleasure.

tried to harmonize with you once but his voice cracked. hasn’t attempted to sing again since that day.

adds little encouraging doodles in the margins of your script. some with encouraging messages like, “you got this superstar!” others are… not so encouraging “i should’ve been cast as your super hot and cool love interest.”

got banned from watching your rehearsals because he would cheer every time you said your lines and boo everytime your love interest spoke. (denki was there supporting—booing—too)

his favorite musical was matilda, but after finding out that it’s originally british he changed it to mamma mia. now he can’t help but cry whenever he hears slipping through my fingers.

brings you chocolates and flowers on opening night. gives you a forehead kiss before you go on stage. “i’m might be more nervous than you,” he lets out an airy laugh and you end up having to comfort him. “break a leg!” he says as you walk off, his voice still weary.

he pretends to be causal when he sees you preform for the first time but how could he? you were perfect in every way and so impossible to ignore.

“you are so awesome.” is all he can say when you come off the stage. he is absolutely starstruck. he pulls you a long hug because he is just so freaking proud of you.

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

hitoshi is a part of the tech/backstage crew for the theater. he’s seen all the shows and actors before. so it comes to no surprise to him when you tell him you got the lead role, knowing how good you are. “of course you got the lead baby, you’re the best actor here.” he almost laughs at your modesty.

you both being theater heads leads to a lot of helping each other out! arriving at the theater early to help him prepare the stage speakers while you warm up your voice.

hitoshi is ecstatic when you ask him to adjust your mic or move the lights. he’ll take any chance he can to help you out.

if you’re alone in the theater rehearsing, hitoshi sometimes likes to mess with you through the intercom “that’s not how you said the line last time!” he calls out. you didn’t even know he was watching you.

lets you ruffle his hair and mess with his headset.

maybe the other actors don’t know it, but the stage crew does. hitoshi makes sure the stage crew never hears the end of your achievements. he doesn’t even mean to, he just finds himself commenting on your performance.

“she’s really good at that.” he watches from backstage with a smile, speaking to no one in particular.

“be careful with that set piece, my girlfriend is on stage.” he says it deadpan, but eveyone knows he’s serious.

his favorite musical is the addams family, obviously.

consoles in izuku about color theory so he can learn what color stage lights will match best with your skin tone.

you get ready for opening night together. he zips up your costume and you tighten his tie. he gives you flowers and a high quality pair of sheer tights, you almost propose to him right there.

hitoshi is happy he has the pleasure of watching you backstage, seeing you from an angle no one else is.

you stand next to each other when the show is over, and the time comes to bow for the crowd. he doesn’t let go of your hand when the curtain drops. before you can even open your mouth to ask, he speaks “perfect, fucking perfect.” he praises as guides you into a gentle kiss.

[hoonieyun]

a lovesick girl's guide to heartbreak

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ best friend's bf!jay x reader breakup with your girlfriend cause i'm bored... summary: being invited to your best friend's birthday was nothing out of the ordinary, until you finally meet her boyfriend and he just seems to be the man of your dreams.

warnings: drinking, alcohol, kissing, consensual skinship, jay and yn are not good people, cheating, profanity, 18+ not proof read lol wc: 3347

hoonieyun notes: okay so this was supposed to be inspired by ariana grande's song but i kind of didn't want to write it where yn was the one initiating the cheating so i just kind of flipped it around lol anyways i hope you guys enjoy this one was wild djfdfj

going to your best friend’s birthday wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, she was your best friend after all; so celebrating her on her big day was something you were obligated to do. she had mentioned her new boyfriend would also be there and said that she wanted this to be a moment where she could introduce him to all of her friends. you didn’t mind much since you were happy she found someone to love and support her but did find it strange that it would be at a house party but that’s just how your best friend was. she was the party girl.

you and your best friend weren’t the most unsuspecting duo, you were both wild, fun, and hunted for the thrill. she, however, was the life of the party while you simply just enjoyed the energy of the party. in a lot of ways you two fit really well together because you loved to party and she was the party. 

as you get ready for your best friend’s party, there are several things on your mind, such as what her new boyfriend was like. they’ve only been together for a few weeks and she’s kept him more private in comparison to her past relationships so there was an air of mystery around him. another thing on your mind was the fact that you were definitely going to try to find a boy to be your distraction for the night as you try to forget your ex-boyfriend who you broke up with just the week before. it was your best friend’s birthday so of course you were going to go no matter what but a part of you was still sad over your breakup and figured that this party would be the best way to release some steam. 

killing two birds with one stone by celebrating your best friend and finding a new boy to occupy your mind for the night. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

the party was in full swing when you arrived, stepping out of your uber but not before thanking the sweet old man who was your uber driver, the music coming from your friend’s house was so loud it muffled the sound of the car driving away. 

she always knows how to throw a party, you thought to yourself with a smile as you prepare yourself to have the time of your life. 

unbeknownst to you the type of chaos that would ensue in the night. 

you weaved your way through the crowd, sending a text to your best friend that you had arrived. in the meantime, you stopped by her kitchen, knowing that there would be several alcoholic beverages ready; and indeed there was. you helped yourself to a hard seltzer, choosing to start off light and would pick it up when you found your friend so you could get shitfaced with her. 

having long and pretty nails were fun, you got to choose the designs and you always got complimented on them but one of the downsides was the fact that it made opening cans the hardest task in the world. you feared you were going to break your nail if you tried to open the can of hard seltzer and because you weren’t in the mood for hard liquor just yet, you didn’t know what to do. 

“need some help with that?” a low voice that was unfamiliar to you says from behind and as you turn around, you’re faced with a man with striking features. a sharp nose matched with fierce eyes that bore into your face, lips that shined under the light of the kitchen, and with how truly striking he was; he exuded a certain type of warmth and softness; contrasting his features. 

“uh- um yeah.” you said, as you hand the can over to him– to which he opens with ease. you chuckle at how easy it was for him and he smiles at your bashfulness; you had never felt this way meeting a man for the first time. usually they were the one to swoon and be heartstopped by you; but right now– you were utterly speechless at the man standing before you. 

“what’s your name, mystery girl?” he asks and you take the can he’s offering back to you. 

you shake your head to break out of the trance he had put you in with just his face so you could answer; “yn” you answer and he nods. “beautiful name. enjoy the party, ok? if you need help opening more cans, come find me.” he says with a wink as he’s exiting the kitchen as if that was his sole duty. to come in there, leave you starstruck, help you out, and then leave. 

you’re blinking rapidly when he leaves, trying to understand what had just happened, it had happened so fast that you’re now realizing you hadn’t even gotten the mystery man’s name. you take several gulps of the hard seltze to get yourself together, you weren’t about to let this man leave you in so much awe and not get a piece of him. you officially have found your distraction for the night but before you could hone in on your target; you needed to find your best friend who still hasn’t texted you back. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

it’s about 45 minutes and several missed calls later when you finally see your best friend, to which is no surprise, who is at the center of the dance floor. you figured that probably was the first place you should’ve checked– you squeeze past all of the bodies on the dance floor and when you finally make your way to your best friend, her face lights up instantly.

“yn!!! babe!! you’re here!!” she shouts loud enough you heard her perfectly fine through the music that was causing the walls of her home to shake. “where have you been, girl?” she asks and you explain that you tried to call her several times to find her and to let her know you had arrived but she never answered. 

“ugh, sorry! my boyfriend took my phone to charge it upstairs because it’s always dead!” she explains and you nod in response. her phone was always dead and it was a big thing with her ex-boyfriends. they always used to get so angry at her because her phone would die as the two of you would be at the height of the night at a club. this boyfriend, however, seems to be on the right path in making sure she’s taken care of as far as phone battery goes. 

“speaking of, let me introduce you to him! i need to find him.” she says, running out from the dance floor and to, you assume, her bedroom to grab her phone that was charging. you laugh at your best friend’s actions; very clear that she was a lot further in her drunkedness than you were. 

once again you find yourself alone at her party, greeting and smiling at the people you recognized as you return to the kitchen after finishing your drink. this time, opting for a few shots of tequila to catch up to your best friend. 

you’re on your third shot, pouring your fourth, when a familiar voice slightly startles you. “slow down, the bottle isn’t going to run away from you.” he says and when you look up, it’s none other than the mystery man who you ran into earlier. you down the shot you just poured, face puckering at the bitterness as you chase it with a lime you found in your friend’s fridge. “no, it won’t run away but if i don’t finish the bottle someone else will and then it’ll be gone so i’ve got to beat someone to it.” you explains and the two of you laugh. 

his laugh was so sweet it made you instantly forget about the bitter taste lingering in your throat. 

you offer him a shot and he kindly accepts, slightly tapping your shot glass with his as the two of you lock eyes before taking the shot. once again, biting into the lime to chase the shot and what he does next leaves you immobile. 

he grabs the lime from your hands right after you’ve just pulled it away from your lips and he brings it up to his own, sucking and biting onto the last drops of lime juice in the fruit and tossing it into the trash behind you when he’s finished. his features go from sharp to soft in an instant as the sting of the alcohol leaves his mouth. biting your lips at his action, you’re instantly surprised at the bold behavior, a smirk spreading on his lips when he notices your reaction. 

“there you are! oh! looks like the two of you have met!” your best friend appears in the kitchen, joining you and the mystery man at her kitchen counter. “ooh! shots!!” she says, grabbing the bottle from your hands and pouring one for the three of you. you all take the shot together and once again are all reaching for a lime to chase the drink with, however, this time he grabs the lime from your best friend’s hands after she’s done and does the same exact thing he had just done with you moments before your friend arrived. 

“oh, right! yn, this is my boyfriend jay. jay, this is my best friend, yn! she’s like a sister to me so you guys have to get along or else i’ll cry. she’s probably going to be my maid of honor when we get married…” your best friend was now rambling but you were able to tune her out as your eyes zone in solely on the boy in front of you. 

the mystery man that had your heart beating faster than it should’ve just happened to be your best friend’s new boyfriend. 

“earth to yn?” she says, waving her hand in front of your face when she’s noticed you had spaced out. “she always gets like this when she’s drunk, probably the tequila.” she says to jay. you’re snapping out of your thoughts at the word “tequila”, choosing to change the topic and energy between the three of you by pouring another round for the birthday girl. 

“happy birthday to you, my best friend!” you toast to her, all the while you’re mind is only on the boy standing across from you whose eyes haven’t left your body not once since his girlfriend and your best friend had joined the two of you. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

you’ve decided that avoiding jay was the only way you could go on for the rest of the night. you weren’t even completely sure where your best friend went after she had introduced you to him, even though you had definitely met prior, but you were trying your best to busy yourself with more drinks and mingling with friends to avoid the feeling inside of you. 

was it guilt? guilty that you had shared such an intimate moment with your best friend’s boyfriend. 

or was it anxiety? anxious that your best friend would find out and you’d be known as the homewrecker who ruined your best friend’s relationship on her birthday. 

or was it… love? did you love jay? you barely even knew the guy but the minimal interactions you’ve had with him had left you feeling like you were falling for him. 

whatever it was, you were downing alcohol left and right to supress the feeling. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

whenever you’d see jay in the corner of your eye or he’d enter the same room you were in, you’d make an excuse that you needed to leave. 

“sorry, need to use the bathroom.”

“ugh, my cup is empty. i’m gonna grab another.”

“god, it’s hot in here. i’m gonna get some air.”

you shouldn’t have ever said the last one because as you’re stepping out into your best friend’s backyard, jay is right on your tail. 

“you’re not avoiding me, are you yn?” he says, a teasing smirk on his face like he knew exactly what he was doing. you shook your head, deciding that you weren’t even going to say a word to him. “really?” he asks, walking closer to you; his face merely inches from yours. you could smell the alcohol on his tongue but the only thing you could focus on was the fact that he made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. 

moments before he’s about to close the gap between the two of you, you push him away, causing him to stumble backwards. a chuckle escapes from his lips as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, clearly a bit aggravated at your sudden actions. 

“this is wrong.. you’re girlfriend is my best friend.” you say quietly, afraid that someone would hear but considering everyone, including your best friend, were all too busy getting drunk and dancing to the music inside, no one was going to hear the two of you. 

“yeah, but you can’t tell me this isn’t fun..” jay says, repositioning himself so he was right in front of you again. brushing away the hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. “so pretty…” he whispers and it sends shivers down your spine; he could probably see the goosebumps rise on your shoulders. 

jay’s eyes trail on the exposed skin of your neck and clavicle. hands following his eyes as they slightly graze your skin, his touch leaving a burning sensation that you just couldn’t pull yourself away from. 

without thinking, you push him away once again and run back inside. not because you were afraid of what he was about to do, no. you were afraid that if you stayed for just a few seconds logner, you would’ve just let him do it without thinking about how much it word hurt your best friend. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 

the rest of the night goes without a hitch, you don’t see jay after what happened in the backyard and thankfully your best friend seems to not know anything since she was still drunkedly and happily partying long after all of the people had left. 

it’s 3am when the last of the guests leave and you’ve stuck around to help your best friend clean up a bit but she’s way too drunk to even stand so jay helps her to her room so she can get some rest.

he says that it’s so she can rest but deep down you know it’s because he wants to get you alone and if that means putting his drunk girlfriend to bed, then so beit. 

you’re throwing cans and red solo cups into a trash bag when jay walks back downstairs after he’s tucked her into bed. “let me help you with that.” he says, reaching for the bag in your hands which was pretty stuffed and as he reaches over, you snatch it away; flinching backwards to create some distance between the two of you. 

“jay…” you warn him and he looks down and smiles before returning his gaze back onto you. “do i make you nervous, yn?” he asks, walking towards you and this time there isn’t anywhere to retreat to as you’re stuck between him and the wall behind you. 

“she’s asleep, no one will know.” it was like he had this planned out and you knew that he must’ve had it planned out because he takes the opportunity to take the trash bag out of your hands when you’re too stunned to speak, tossing it to the side so he could get closer to you. 

“what do you say, huh?” he asks, cupping your face with his large hand. 

this was so wrong in so many ways but why weren’t you fighting him off? he was your best friend’s boyfriend for christ’s sake but with the way you two were standing right now, anyone would think he was yours and you were his. 

he doesn’t give you the opportunity to answer before he’s connecting your lips with his, the kiss starting off sweet and gentle, like he was testing the waters, and when you finally give in and kiss him back, it becomes more heated. like he was hungry for the taste of your lips and was the thing he wanted all night. it satiated him in ways that you wouldn’t understand and quite frankly, would never understand. 

“why are you doing this?” you ask, slightly pushing him off of you. 

jay just shrugs with a pout, “do you not like it? if you don’t i’ll stop… but it doesn’t seem like you want me to stop.” he says. the ball was now in your court. 

in the several hours you’ve known jay you’ve learned one thing. 

he’ll get what he wants and he’ll do whatever it takes. 

you’ve realized that he was completely fine with cheating on your best friend with you and was encouraging you to be okay with it too. you’ve already done the action, kissing jay means he’s cheated on your best friend and to twist the knife further; it was with her best friend. jay put the ball in your court because he had no problem doing any of this. he’ll get what he wants and go back to his girlfriend, conscience free as if he didn’t commit infidelity. 

he’ll probably go back to her room upstairs and slip into the empty spot beside her on her bed and sleep soundly knowing what he had just done. 

he put the ball in your court because he knew how much this would eat at you. like he knew you’d have this internal battle with chasing what your heart wanted but what your brain was denying you of. you weren’t sure if he knew about your recent break, like your best friend were to have mentioned it in passing, but it was only adding to the fact that you were heartbroken and had planned to find a boy tonight to mend your heart even if it was just for tonight. 

jay knew in the small time he’s known you that you would fall for him. your best friend had told him of all the stories of your ex-boyfriends being shitty and how you could never find the right man, to which she’d follow with how happy she was to have found jay, a man who would “treat her right”. jay could see the gears turning in your head as you thought about what you should do. 

were you going to let the weight of heartbreak lead you down a path that would be irrepairable once broken, much like you are now. broken..

or were you going to do the right thing and let yourself continue to be heartbroken if it meant that you would be doing right by your best friend. 

but when jay connects his lips with yours once again, you don’t pull away and jay takes this as the answer he was looking for. the answer he wanted. he had you and he wasn’t going to let go even if it’s just for tonight. neither of you knew if what you felt for each other was love, hell, it could just be the alcohol talking; but tonight you were his and he was yours. 

your best friend slept soundly upstairs in her bedroom as you and her boyfriend explored one another right below where she slept.

when you’re kissing jay like it was the last time, and it should be but a part of you was saying it wasn’t going to be with the way jay was holding and kissing you like you were the love of his life, you realized what that feeling was inside of you from earlier. 

greed. you were greedy and everything you had done tonight was done out of greed. 

but if greed would help mend your broken heart and would have jay kissing you so sweetly, then maybe you didn’t mind being greedy.

"breakup with your girlfriend, i'm bored" ariana grande the usage of song lyrics is credited to the artist above

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

heart not broken enough? let's try again... ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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[rottenstawberrygirl]

Sometimes, I forget that there are people who exist outside of my circle, people who I could never bear to be separated from if we were to cross paths, people who have suffered from the same pain as I have, people who feel joy and sorrow the exact way as I do, people who can actually understand me, people who I can, would want to understand. It's a strange thing, really. Before telephones and social media were invented, I think most people were not even aware of the possibility that people from all around the world could also be living the same lives, having the same exact experiences, and having the same thoughts as them. There was us, and then there was them. While we were doing everything we could to defend ourselves, our traditions, cultures, and our beliefs, everything we thought we owned against them, we forgot they were all humans, too. The fact that they were human beings didn't matter because, for our kind, not having the same viewpoints is equivalent to being a whole different species.

Acknowledging the reality of others makes me feel less lonely. That was something I used to be unable to do out of my frustration at life. Now, it’s a comfort.

Isn't it wonderful that there is always someone, a living, breathing being like me, behind every eye I look into, even in the song that keeps getting stuck in my brain, the words I read in a book that I relate myself with, a painting I deeply admire, the food I consume, the home I live and sleep in, in each and everything? Life is everywhere; it's alive, it’s soulful, and I wonder if that is why I constantly feel like I'm being watched.

I know that all the relationships I have built with others are going to be temporary even before we form a bond, and no matter what, it will end in one way or another. Perhaps none of these people will even be by my side on my deathbed. That's why it's so precious for me to create beautiful memories with them. There may be someone out there who can replace me in their lives or someone who can replace them in mine, but the emotions and the raw connection we felt together, feeling seen for the first time, are irreplaceable and unrenewable. It's not like I will live long enough to get to get to know each and every person in this world anyway. But I may never meet anyone like the people I love right now. How can I not treasure them?

I need to make them a part of myself, to keep them alive in me, to make sure that even if my brain does forget them, my soul never will. I hope that my loved ones also carry fragments of me as I do of them. Because even if my name will not be engraved in history, I dream of continuing to exist, living everywhere, in every being, and seeing and exploring through their eyes. Even people I will never meet should unknowingly carry a part of me so that they may never be truly so when they feel utterly alone, lost, and abandoned.

Did the people who once lived also feel this way? Or were they so focused on their survival, so caught up in their own present that they didn't think about future, new “modern” humans? I wonder if they thought about me as much as I thought about them. Will future generations empathize and feel sorry for me, or will they wish they could have lived in my lifetime like I am doing about those before me? I honestly have no idea. I don't think any of us are clairvoyants or prophets. But just as those who lived in the past are part of me now, so I will be, once I return to nature, become a part of those who are to come. Death is not terrifying, for nothing ceases to be. Our diversities merge into nothingness as we are whole. We are this world itself. We are its very soul. And we will die with it—not before, not after—with it.

Regardless of how small we feel, we will never realize we were always bigger than we thought we knew.

[little-diable]

Hot Blood - Tommy Shelby (smut)

Requested by my love @earlgreydreamreplies for my birthday bash celebration. The lyrics are from the song “Hot Blood” by Kaleo. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. Xxx

Summary: Pwp, Tommy fucks the reader while his guests are downstairs

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, Tommy is a dick in this

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (700 words)

She was spread out on his mattress, back arched off the bed. Tommy was towering over her, staring down at (y/n) with a look so dark, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the same gaze he offered those he was about to kill. Her body was covered in goosebumps, already worn out after all the teasing he had forced her to endure.

“Tommy,” his name rolled off her tongue, filling his bedroom like a prayer he had once known by heart but could no longer remember, soul and mind tainted by all his crimes. His hand found her mouth, forcing two fingers past her lips to rest on her tongue, successfully shutting her up. (Y/n) moaned around his digits, he tasted of cigarettes, of the whisky he had forced down his throat a while ago, and of her arousal.

“Shh, love. We don’t want the others to hear, do we? They don't know 'bout who we are, they don't know 'bout you and I, they ain't know 'bout the stars of your eyes when I fuck you like this.” His raspy words were followed by another moan clawing through her. (Y/n) tried to shuffle closer to press her naked heat against the leg keeping her thighs spread, but Tommy kept her pressed to the spot.

“Do you think you can be quiet? Can you take my cock while keeping your mouth shut?” Tears of desperation filled her eyes as she nodded her head. The chuckle leaving him had something dangerous to it, a warning she chose to ignore while letting go of another whine. Tommy slowly pulled his fingers out of her mouth, using his hands to free his hard cock.

“Please,” it was just a whisper, a sound so quiet she hoped he wouldn’t pick up on it. But nothing could make it past Tommy, his eyes snapped back up towards her features, smirk widening as he forced his cock into her with one ferocious thrust. Her teeth drew blood from her lower lip while trying to stay quiet. She wanted to be good for him, wanted to follow his every command, even though (y/n) knew that she was close to miserably failing at it.

Tommy fucked her into the mattress, knowing that they couldn’t waste as much time as he wanted to. His guests were waiting closeby, undoubtedly noticing his absence. But at that moment he couldn’t seem to care, too focused on (y/n), on the feeling of her walls clenching his cock, on the way she exposed her throat to his wandering lips. She was his, no matter how much he tried to fight against the grasp she had on his heart.

“You think you’re such a good girl for me, eh? A fucking slut is what you are, letting me fuck you while all your friends are downstairs.” She kept quiet, desperately trying to hold back her words. (Y/n) tried to focus on the feeling of his cock hitting just the right spots, on the raspy sounds of his voice, and the scent of his cologne she found herself addicted to.

“Tommy, oh god.” It was blasphemy, she was sure of it, praising a man like that who had more similarities with the devil than with any god, but the words kept leaving her over and over again. (Y/n) was about to fall apart, pushed into her orgasm by his ferocious thrusts.

Tommy’s fingertips brushed against her pulsing bundle, giving her the needed push. He fucked her through it, eyes set on her pleasure-drunken features, how she had slightly parted her lips, eyes squeezed shut, skin warm beneath his touch. Seconds before he could cum, he pulled out of her to paint her stomach white, groaning against (y/n)’s lips before kissing her breathless.

Wordlessly he let go of her, he reached for a cigarette before redressing and with one last look thrown her way, Tommy left her behind with racing thoughts and an aching heart.