#friendship is a two way street you have to walk together

[be4chywritez]

shot to the heart (and the nose) | luke hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader

You come home from college and Luke is smitten...maybe a little too smitten

beachy’s masterlist🐚

requests are open!

part two!

Growing up next door to the Hughes family meant one thing—hockey was a religion.

It was loud, it was competitive, and it was everywhere. If the Hughes brothers weren’t on the ice, they were playing in the driveway, tracking in mud from the lake, or tossing pucks against the garage door until Ellen threatened to take their sticks away.

And you?

You were the neighbor kid. Not quite in the mix, but not completely out of it either.

Your families were close—vacations together, barbecues in the summer, Christmas parties in the winter. You and the Hughes boys had spent years at each other’s birthday parties, running through sprinklers, roasting marshmallows, and competing over who could eat the most popsicles before Jim made you all go inside.

But if hockey was the Hughes brothers’ thing, quiet was yours.

Luke, in particular, had always been the opposite of quiet. He was the one making up rules for backyard games, the one yelling over everyone else, the one who would get so frustrated when you’d rather sit and watch than dive into the chaos.

He never bullied you for it, not in the way other kids might have, but he pushed—nudging you toward the action, insisting you could keep up, making sure you weren’t left out.

Jack and Quinn weren’t much different. Jack, the natural show-off, would always try to impress you (even if you weren’t watching), and Quinn, forever the responsible older brother, would make sure you didn’t get completely trampled by their energy.

Then, of course, you all grew up.

You spent high school buried in books and extracurriculars, aiming for an Ivy League acceptance letter. Luke spent it on the ice, chasing the NHL dream.

By senior year, your friendship had faded into nothing more than polite nods and see you at Christmas waves across the room.

And then you left for college.

Luke got drafted.

Life moved on.

Coming home after months at school was weird.

The air smelled the same, the roads felt the same, but you didn’t feel the same. Maybe it was the time away, or maybe it was the fact that being home again made you realize just how much things had changed.

The car rumbled up your street, your mom chatting about how good it is to have you back while you stared out the window.

And across the driveway, in the Hughes' kitchen, three heads turned in unison.

Jack was the first to react. He dropped his sandwich. Fully dropped it. “Holy shit.”

Quinn, still chewing, furrowed his brows. “What?”

Luke didn’t say anything, just stared.

Because there you were, climbing out of the car—same face, same features, but different.

College had done something to you. Or maybe you’d just grown into yourself.

Jack nudged Luke’s arm, grinning. “Dude. You seeing this?”

Luke was seeing it. That was the problem.

You were tan, your hair was different, your shorts were short, and fuck, had your legs always looked like that?

“Oh my god,” Quinn muttered, leaning against the counter. “Luke, close your mouth.”

Luke snapped his mouth shut, scowling. “Shut up.”

Jack just smirked. “Bet she still won’t talk to you.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but for once, he didn’t have a comeback.

A few days later, you were walking up your driveway when you spotted Luke in his front yard.

He had his shirt on this time (unfortunately so) wearing a Team USA tee with the sleeves cut off, and ripping shots into the net with a ridiculous amount of force.

You should’ve known better.

Really, you should have known better.

Because one second, he was shooting.

And the next—

Crack.

Right to the face.

“Holy shit!”

Luke dropped his stick so fast it clattered against the pavement. In seconds, he was in front of you, hands hovering like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you or not.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I didn’t see you,” he rambled, eyes darting between your nose and your expression. “Are you—holy shit, you’re bleeding.”

You groaned, pressing your fingers to your face. “Luke. What the fuck.”

“I swear I didn’t see you—”

“No shit.”

Luke winced. “Okay, yeah, that’s fair.” He ripped his shirt off in one smooth motion, bunching it up before carefully pressing it against your nose. “Here, hold this.”

You blinked. “Did you just—”

“Sacrificed my shirt for you? Yeah.”

“Oh, so chivalrous.”

Luke huffed out a laugh, tilting your chin up slightly to examine the damage. His hands were warm, calloused from years of hockey, and being this close to him was… distracting.

His eyes flickered over your face, studying you.

“You look… different,” he murmured, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

You swallowed. “So do you.”

Luke smirked. “Yeah?”

And that was when you realized—he was still holding your chin.

And smiling at you.

And looking so unfairly good doing it.

You exhaled sharply. “Quit smiling at me.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I feel weird.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything.

And then—

His grin widened, slow and lazy. “Huh.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said easily. “Just thinking I should smile at you more often.”

You groaned, shoving his chest. “Oh my god.”

Luke just laughed, but then his expression sobered. “C’mon, let’s go inside. Mom’ll kill me if I leave you out here bleeding.”

Before Luke could even pull you up, the door to the Hughes house slammed open.

Jack and Quinn came speed-walking—borderline running—toward you, eyes bouncing between Luke, you, and the blood dripping down your face.

Jack, of course, spoke first.

“Oh my god, did Luke hit you?”

You groaned, still pressing Luke’s (formerly white) Team USA shirt to your nose. “You say that like he didn’t just slapshot a puck into my face.”

Quinn sighed, looking so unimpressed. “Jesus, Luke.”

Luke, still crouched next to you, lifted his hands in exasperation. “I didn’t see her! I was just—”

Jack cackled, pointing at Luke like he’d just won the lottery. “You obliterated her!”

“Jack,” you deadpanned. “Not helping.”

Jack waved you off. “No, no, because this is insane. You come back from college looking totally different, and the second Luke sees you, he shoots his shot—literally.”

Luke groaned, running a hand down his face. “Jack, I swear to—”

Jack ignored him. “I mean, I knew he was gonna lose it when he saw you again, but this—this is next level.”

Luke shoved him. “Can you shut up?”

Quinn, ever the responsible older brother, rolled his eyes. “Alright, let’s get her inside before she passes out in our driveway.”

Jack smirked. “Or before Luke confesses his love again.”

Luke shoved him harder.

You just sighed.

The moment you stepped into the house, the familiar warmth of the Hughes home hit you—laundry detergent, whatever Quinn had been cooking earlier, and a faint trace of hockey gear.

And then—

“Oh my god!”

Ellen practically flew down the stairs, eyes zeroing in on your face.

Jim followed behind her, frowning. “Jesus, what happened?”

Jack, still very much enjoying the situation, grinned. “Oh, you know. Luke saw her for the first time in, like, a year and immediately tried to take her out.”

Luke groaned. “That is not what happened.”

Ellen, ignoring them, cupped your face as gently as she could, careful not to touch your nose. “Sweetheart, oh my gosh! You’re hurt!”

Jack, ever the instigator, added, “She is hurt, but also—she looks amazing, right?”

Ellen’s eyes flickered over your face—well, the parts of it that weren’t covered in blood—and beamed. “Oh, honey, you are stunning! Look at you! College has done wonders for you.”

You blinked. “Uh—”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Ellen, she’s bleeding.”

Ellen waved him off. “Yes, yes, I see that, but look at how grown up she is!” She turned to Quinn. “Quinn, tell me she doesn’t look gorgeous.”

Quinn, handing Luke an ice pack, huffed out a laugh. “She does.”

Jack smirked. “Luke sure thinks so.”

Luke whipped around. “Jack, I will actually—”

Jim chuckled, finally stepping in. “Alright, El, let’s fix her up before we start matchmaking.”

Luke, still looking like he desperately wanted to disappear, guided you to the kitchen table and sat you down. “Okay, let me—uh—yeah, just—” He fumbled with the ice pack, hands slightly shaky.

You raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

He swallowed. “Yeah. Just—quit looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like—” Luke exhaled sharply. “Like that.”

You smirked. “Why?”

“Because I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything.

And then—

Jack howled. Quinn raised his eyebrows.

Ellen gasped like this was the best news she had heard all day.

Jim sighed, rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ.”

Luke groaned.

And you?

You just smiled.

It was going to be a great summer.

part two!

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[princesssmars]

better leave your man at home!

mini stories of vi, sevika, abby, and ellie showing you your true worth.

wc : 7.306

contains : sfw and nsfw. fxf. fem!reader. cheating on the men's part until ellie's part lol. ellie’s is a modern!au the rest are in canon. mentions of violence and alcohol. silco but he's chill. owen but he's not chill. reader can be interpreted as bi or comphet i think!

a/n : ladies if you're reading this...cheat on him. or cheat back. yknow what just leave him.

VIOLET ꨄ

ʚɞ ever since getting out of prison and restarting her life, vi had been looking for a new purpose.

ʚɞ she had found a solid job, managed to reconnect with wither last siblings left alive, and started to build up a life for herself, but still, she felt...aimless. she longed for a deeper connection than the ones she had, someone she could yet again.

ʚɞ and then she meets you, a sweet little store owner with a voice that sounds like a symphony and an attitude as sweet as cookies. the first time she even met you she bumped into you on the street outside your bakery, knocking you supplies for your treats all over the ground. she's expecting that usual zaunite 'watch where you're going!' but instead you tell her not to worry, that you were carrying too many things anyway.

ʚɞ it was almost instinct for her to assure you she was at fault, downright demanding she help you carry everything that dropped inside and that it was the least she could do. you call her a sweetheart and tell her if she does you'll send her home with a plate of her favorite dessert. how could she say no?

ʚɞ she cant help but to quickly hang out with you whenever she can. after her shifts she stops by to help you close up, telling you its the least she could do for someone who was oh-so sweet. you seem to welcome her affections, whispering one late night when making some extra batter that you always appreciate when she stops by. she goes home on a high that night.

ʚɞ but then the worst thing ever happens. you get a boyfriend.

ʚɞ apparently he's some old family friend who moved back to the city when he found a small fortune overseas and was ready to come back to 'win you over like he tried years ago'. you told the story with a slightly wistful voice but all vi could do was nod along with wide eyes and a shut mouth.

ʚɞ eventually, she meets the guy, a tall and rather weasly looking guy who was waiting impatiently outside the store. she gave him a simple greeting and all he could do was tilt his head in recognition that she was there, apparently. she passed him and went to the back of the store and asked you what he was doing standing outside looking all suspicious. her eyes nearly bulged out of her head when you told her he was waiting to take you out but had to stand outside because he couldn't stand the smell of bread.

ʚɞ yeah, this definitely wasn't gonna last long. she’d just have to get you to see that.

ʚɞ sadly, she didn't have to do much work. ton a sunny day when the two of you were walking through the upper city levels together you stopped in your tracks, a talking vi whose arm was wrapped with yours questioning what made you stop before following your eyesight to see your boyfriend in the arms of another woman, way too close for comfort. vi wanted nothing more in that moment than to go and knock the bastard's lights out, but she had to prioritize you first.

ʚɞ you go into a depression for a week, your shop closed and your apartment locked as you skulk and cry in your home. but thankfully you gave vi a key not too long into your friendship, and she wakes you up one afternoon and demands you go and clean yourself up while she takes care of your chores.

ʚɞ you come out of the shower feeling rejuvenated and refreshed, your mood only lifting higher at the smell of cookies in the air. you pad out to the kitchen and cant help but smile when you see vi standing with a tray of perfectly made chocolate chip cookies on the island counter.

ʚɞ you sit up on your counter and moan at the taste of the cookies, vi accepting your praise of her baking skills with pride as she rubs over your bare thighs. eventually the topic steers to your recent heartbreak and vi makes sure you can complain and vent to her all you want.

ʚɞ but the last thing she wants to hear is you blaming yourself, teary-eyed and mumbling about how maybe you were too overbearing in your affections. she gently but sternly brings your attention to her, making sure you look her in the eyes when she goes on about how you’re the nicest and most soft-natured person she’s ever known and he was a fool to not see what an amazing woman he had in front of him.

ʚɞ and you cant help but feel even worse at the clear effect her affection has on you, unconsciously biting her lip at her praise and closeness. her eyes dart down to your lips and back to your eyes, slowly inching her head forward for permission. as soon as you slightly nod your head she’s kissing you with months of pent-up adoration, warmth, and lust.

ʚɞ a small part of you feels guilty for moving on to your close friend only a week after you broke up with your boyfriend, but when her fingers are drifting down to your cunt and making you cry as you cum over and over again, you can't find it in you to care.

ʚɞ “he was an idiot to give up on someone as sweet as you. but down worry muffin, i’m not gonna take that chance.”

SEVIKA ꨄ

ʚɞ sevika had made a promise to herself years ago: don't mess with married women.

ʚɞ she could give herself some grace, she was young and dumb, and the woman was incredibly gorgeous. and when a woman with legs that could bring any person woman or man to their knees comes up to you and asks you your plans for the night, you cant exactly pass up the opportunity. though she wishes she did after her partner caught them together in bed and she got in one of the worst fights of her life.

ʚɞ but she had to admit things in her life were getting a bit…stale, to say the least. her schedule was a steady routine of doing tasks for silco, reeling in jinx, and keeping the last drop working like a well-oiled machine. she didn't want anything drastic that would screw up their plans to happen, just…something.

ʚɞ and oh, does she get it. some out of towner got too rowdy in the bar and started a bar fight and before she could come in and get things under control theirams leg gets broken. so now she’s tasked with finding a good enough replacement to cover him for the few months it gets healed since he for some reason couldn't just take a shimmer dose and get back on his feet in no time.

ʚɞ she goes through dozens of recruits, all either too disobedient or downright atrocious behind a bar. she’s just about to give up and force one of the goons to do it when you come through the door. you’re rather unassuming, and at first she things you’re joking until you travel behind the bar and instruct her to give you any drink and you can make it. after ten different drinks she’s more than convinced.

ʚɞ she doesn't talk to you much at first, you’re just another cog in the machine that keeps the enterprise running smoothly. obviously she’s noticed that you’re attractive, surrounded by a stern but easy-going aura that makes most customers sit and want to talk to you for hours on end. it amused her when she watched how you convinced three different patrons to buy some more drinks so you’d continue telling them a wild story of some adventure you apparently had in bilgewater years back.

ʚɞ she can't help but ask you if its true later when the bar is closing and you’re wiping everything down, rolling her eyes when you call her out for listening to your conversations. you reveal that all your stories of adventure and excitement are true, but that you gave that life up when you decided to settle down after you get married.

ʚɞ she scoffs that the woman you married must be a hell of a catch to get you to leave behind such an exciting life, and she sees your eyes drop when you reveal that life with your husband is a nice and quiet alternative to your days of danger. sevika’s always had a good poker face, and she’s really glad she has it now after hearing you gave up all of that for a guy. and that her gaydar was apparently wrong, which never happens.

ʚɞ but its almost like this is the challenge her mind has been looking for, because after that conversation she keeps having late-night talks with you when no one else is around. you’re disarmingly easy to talk to, able to show a compassion and understanding that isn’t common for the folks down here. its only a few hours after she gets a bit too tipsy and accidentally lets slip a story about her upbringing that she lays in bed and slaps her human hand to her forehead in frustration when instead of being embarrassed all she can think about is your soft hand gently rubbing her shoulder as she poured her heart out.

ʚɞ she is so screwed.

ʚɞ eventually, you draw silco’s attention. mostly because the profits from the bar have nearly doubled since you started working, partly because he can tell a certain someone is distracting sevika. he gave her a list of tasks one day that he could tell she hated doing and she went off with a nod and without a word, and she either had a new woman in her life or she was about to snap. he made sure to find out about you a few minutes later, and asked/demanded to know more about your life. in particular, any outside connections you had.

ʚɞ sevika doesn't know whether she wants to thank silco or kill him when you’re given a more permanent position at the bar and finally introduce the crew to your husband, a man who silco has apparently given a job in his booking department. when sevika pulls him aside later to ask why he would od something like that, he just. shrugs. silco never just shrugs.

ʚɞ now that you’ve basically part of their little crime family it's even easier for sevika to spend more time with you. unfortunately for you jinx has taken a liking to you, but you handle it well and always make sure to give the girl her favorite drink in her favorite cup whenever she stops in the bar to babble on about some new weapon of mayhem she’s decided to make.

ʚɞ but after a few weeks she notices your mood start to sour, how you start getting snippy with some of the more rowdy drunks who stumble through the bar. she catches you a few hours after closing sat behind the bar with a half drunken bottle in your hand and mascara running down your cheeks. normally if this was anyone else she’d scoff to herself and quickly make her exit but instead she plops herself down next to you and demands you tell her what's wrong. through hiccups and tears, you tell her that you’re pretty sure your husband is lying to you. about a lot. in particular about where he spends his nights and comes back grumbling about ‘unfair bets’ and losing cash.

ʚɞ sevika assures you she’ll get to the bottom of it, and it only takes her a few hours of trailing thee guy to find out the problem. it seems your betrothed has been gambling your money away in seedy gambling circles, with some guys she swore she told to cut it out months ago when it came to rigging their dice when playing with tourists. but the amounts he’s using are definitely more than what either of you are making on a salary.

ʚɞ she tries not to smile when she picks the excuse of a man up by the back of his neck with her mech hand, reveling in the horrified look on his face as he makes up excuse after excuse for why he’s been stealing money from you and the boss, that he swears he’ll make it back up to silco-

ʚɞ you come in the next day as confused as ever, whispering that your husband packed up his things in the middle of the night and disappeared. sevika sits you down and explains that your husband was a thief, stealing hundreds from silco rather sloppily under his nose, and was dealt with in a timely manner. but she assures you that you won't be affected by any debts he may have had, she’ll make sure of it and make sure none of those gamblers come after you.

ʚɞ you only grow closer and closer after that night, and its no surprise you start to catch feelings for the gorgeous woman who constantly makes sure you’re safe and protected. its on one of the bars rather more exciting nights that you relent and play a drinking game with some members of the crew, and in a moment of weakness accidentally admit that since your husband left you haven't been laid in weeks, and in an additional moment of weakness admit that the first person you’d like to rock your world would be none other than silco’s second hand.

ʚɞ it was just your luck that the woman was walking by when the words left your lips, and fueled by her own dose of liquid courage came up behind you and whispered that she was free at that moment.

ʚɞ you expected many things when you settled down in zaun, and getting bent in half for hours on end by the second in command to the rule of the underground was not one of them. but when sevika groans in your ear and moans about how you have the tightest pussy she’s ever had the pleasure of taking, you’re really glad it happened to you.

ʚɞ “god, i’m really not gonna be able to stay away from you now. promise that the next time you get married you’re not gonna have to worry about being disappointed ever again.”

ʚɞ (when sevika walks in the next morning with a rare smile on her face silco does admit that he hired your husband knowing he’d be an idiot that she’d have to get rid of. you’re welcome.)

ABBY ꨄ

ʚɞ abby never saw herself as a jealous person. she’d only been in one relationship before, and even though it ended rather sourly she knew it was only natural that they’d both eventually move on. but when she sees you, a new wlf recruit walking and smiling side by side with owen, she feels…weird. really weird.

ʚɞ she does feel bad that as soon as he introduces you all to the group at a small party thrown by some of the soldiers all she can manage is tight-lipped smile and a small wave. you visibly deflate and smile it off, immediately pulled away by nora and leah to grab some drinks. manny butts her shoulder with his, giving her that ‘what the hell?’ look he loves to do. she defensively apologizes, because how should she react? her ex-boyfriend clearly has a thing for you, is she supposed to be all buddy buddy with you?

ʚɞ it doesn't help that its clear to everyone that you’re pretty. like, weirdly pretty for someone in the middle of an apocalyptic setting. crystal clear skin, smooth lips, and eyes of a beautiful shade. she caught herself staring once in the gym as you laughed with one of the trainers and had to quickly get herself together.

ʚɞ isaac must be playing a sick game because you then get assigned to go with her on patrol. she initially resented, questioning why you were tagging along when you mostly worked with the medics and mel was already trailing along. he said that apparently you had asked for the chance to get some more field practice and left it at that, dismissing her with a wave.

ʚɞ she was quiet for most of the ride to the patrol spot, hands tight on the steering wheel as you sat in the back of the truck with the others in the group and laughed at some story one the guys was talking about.

ʚɞ god, even your laugh is cute, she thinks as she carefully maneuvers the truck around a downed tree. youre like if a dream girl was placed down in this wasteland to torture her, a giant sign to tell her of course owen went after you, you were perfect. more perfect than she could be.

ʚɞ it isnt helpful that shes left partnered with you as you clear out the abandoned store in the strip mall they've all been sent to check and re-clear the spaces if necessary. she finds herself frustrated when you very reasonably and very smartly stick to her side the whole time. she swears she almost trips over an overgrown branch when she catches a whiff of your soap and she doesnt know where the hell you managed to snag vanilla flavored anything.

ʚɞ everything is fine for a while. you both remain vigilant as you walk through the barely lit aisles of the department store, the only action when a clicker jumps up out of nowhere and nearly tackled you before she’s roughly pushing you out of the way and kicking out its knees before bashing in its head with her boot. she’s panting and catching her breath before roughly asking if you were alright and reminding you to stay vigilant, taking your wide eyed stare for shock at a close encounter to what would be a rather painful death.

ʚɞ but despite her rather abrasive attitude you try your best to be friendly with her. you reveal that owen did confide about their past relationship, and as awkward as the situation sometimes was you wouldn’t let it drive a wedge between you, that you in fact wanted to be friends with abby. you had heard a great many things about her, how she was a loyal friend, a courageous leader, clearly an incredibly strong soldier-

ʚɞ her brain. short circuits a bit. the way you called her strong, like it was fact that was so obvious that she’d already proven it to you just by being out here. sure she’d pushed you of out the trajectory of that clicker but that was normal, anyone should and would do the same. she realizes you wouldn’t get the chance to see any displays of strength like that back in the base save for the visits to the gym, and a foreign voice in her head laments what a shame that is.

ʚɞ she doesn’t realize until a day later just how screwed she is.

ʚɞ whatever weird…feelings she has for you don’t even get a chance to go away or settle, just fester and multiply with your constant presence. where abby is her friends are close by, and that now includes you. at small get togethers, shared gym workouts, breakfast lunch and dinner hangouts, you’re always there with a bright smile and a warm greeting for her. she thinks she’s hiding whatever it is she’s hiding pretty well until nora pulls her to the side and asks why she just keeps staring at you whenever you’re around, that she understand there might be some lingering feelings of jealousy and resentment towards owen but that’s no reason to treat you rudely.

ʚɞ abby stumbles over her words, insisting that she’s not treating you rudely, that’s the last thing she would want to do. who would ever do that to someone as nice and sweet and gorgeous as you? she ends her mini explanation with a stiff chuckle and looks at nora who’s now staring at her with an open mouth and a flabbergasted look on her face.

ʚɞ so it’s clear that abby likes you. she doesn’t know how to grapple with the fact, and decides its best to just deal with it privately and wait for it to just pass as most things do. the only person who knows is nora, who after not talking to her for a few hours after their last encounter came back to abby’s room to apologize for walking out on her in a moment where they so clearly needed to talk more about what was just revealed. she assures abby that she’ll help her through this but it’s very confusing to herself as well. it’s not every day you have to deal with your best friend falling in love with her boyfriends new girlfriend.

ʚɞ she doesn’t agree with abby’s method, frequently telling her that dealing with this in private will only have the opposite effect. and just like normally she’s right, abby’s increased attempt at distance from you only peaks your worry and drives you to constantly check in on her to make sure she’s okay. one day you come by her room after one of your workouts, and the sight of you covered in a thin sheen of sweat in shorts and a tank asking her sweetly if she’s feeling okay and if she’d like to join you for lunch let’s her know for sure that she really can’t do this for much longer.

ʚɞ so she’s tries her best to try a different approach : exposure therapy. as bad as it sounds, she’s sure once she starts spending more time with you she’ll realize you aren’t some mythical girl of of her dreams and are just a normal person who’s dating her ex and who she can totally just be normal friends with. she comes up to you in the halls a few days later and asks if you’d like her to help you train for more field work and you beam up at her before wrapping your arms around her neck and thanking her a multitude of times before composing yourself. you go one about how you were so eager to prove yourself and you’d do no better than to have the abby anderson teaching you the basics. she zoned out as soon as she felt your skin against the back of her neck, nodding along to all of your words with a doe-eyed blank look.

ʚɞ it’s really nice bonding with you over the course of a few short weeks. you quickly pick up on the things she teaches you, and whatever you don’t she’s more than eager to help you learn. she hates to admit it but her conscious cheered a little bit when you told her you needed help aiming one of the bigger rifles, and it nearly screamed when she got to place herself behind you and helped you aim at the target practice. maybe she’s a bit delusional at this point but she swears she felt your body relax into hers, felt your breath stutter just a bit when her chest met your back.

ʚɞ and she knows it’s serious when she trusts you enough to share her space in the library. it’s a night when manny has a girl over so she’s in her usual cozy spot surrounded by the book shelves when she shears your gentle footsteps and call of her name, remarking that you initially went to the room out of loneliness about owen being gone for the night but came here when a breathless and shirtless manny told you her usual sleepover spot. she invites you to settle in with her in her heap of old blankets surrounded by dusty novels, trying her best to remain calm when you lean your head on her shoulders and insisted she keep reading her current book aloud.

ʚɞ she wakes up to the early morning light with her head rested on top of yours, snuggled up to battle the chill of the stadium air and your hand clamped around her arm. when she looks down at your face and wishes she could see you like this every day she realizes that she is really, really screwed.

ʚɞ luckily she doesn’t have to wait long to see you like that again. well, the circumstances are rather horrid. yet another soldier was having small secret party ok one of the larger stadium dorms and you were glued to abby’s side. everyone besides nora was confused but happy that the two of you seemed to be getting along so well, and nora herself kept giving abby looks that were a mixture between pity, worry, and just a bit of ‘you need to just get this off of your chest to anyone else but me’ annoyance.

ʚɞ abby was your designated drink manager, constantly making sure you weren’t too drunk and were drinking enough water to stave off any of the negative effects of the smuggled in alcohol they brought in for the party. you’re both sitting on one of the couches and observing the party when you make an off handed comment about not seeing owen for a while and abby decides to sit you down snuggly on the couch while she goes to look for him to appease your tipsy haze. her search leads her down the hallway, and it’s only when she hears an object drop in a nearby maintenance closet does she find out the truth.

ʚɞ she whips open the door to see owen and mel in a rather…well, let’s just say a really lewd position. in the midst of being disgusted and infuriated she finds a bit of amusement at mousy mel of all people doing a drunken hookup in a dingy closet. owen hurriedly tries to fix himself and his pants, insisting to abby that it’s not what it looks like, and suddenly his eyes lock on an object behind her and she turns around to see you, teary eyed and clearly betrayed before you silently stoop off to the direction of your own room.

ʚɞ abby is normally a calm person. as a soldier she isn’t afforded the luxury to let her emotions get the better of her in moments of stress. but seeing you with tears in your eyes and a wobbly lip makes her wish she broke owen’s nose on the spot. collecting all of her composure, she slaws the closet door in his face and quickly runs after you.

ʚɞ she quickly chases after you, making her way down the stadium halls until she finds your bedroom door agape, quickly knocking and entering when she hears your quiet cry demanding owen leave. she makes sure to announce who she is once she settles in beside you on your bed, gently extending her hands to make sure shes allowed to physically comfort you before pulling you into a tight hug once you let her know it’s okay.

ʚɞ she had again struggles to keep her composure when you cry into her shoulder, not minding the tears staining her t-shirt when she hears you weep about what a fool you wer, how you were such an idiot to believe that someone like him could truly care about you.

ʚɞ in the morning, she can blame the weeks of pent up feelings, or maybe the cup of beer she had an hour before, but she can’t stop herself from grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards her, commanding your attention before she reveals that should’ve warned you about owen earlier, that she should’ve known he would take advantage of someone with as sweet a nature as you. She’s always known he was a fool, but to ruin his chances of someone like you is the dumbest thing he ever could’ve done.

ʚɞ when you sniffle and look up at her with those shiny eyes and puffy lips and ask her if that’s true she feels her composed facade slipping, hands shaky as she reaches up to wipe your tears away before letting her palm letting her fingers trail down your face, biting her lip when she sees your eyelids flutter closer when her hands start to ghost down your neck.

ʚɞ she doesn’t feel sorry when she watches you take off your top, doesn’t feel guilt when she pushes you down to the bed and lets her lips bite and kiss from your neck to her chest and draw out all manners of whines and gasps from your throat. and when she feels your hips lift up and grind into her crotch, when her hands attach themselves to your hips and forces you to bring yourself to an orgasm in your pants, she doesn’t give a shit how it’ll seem when she parades you around the stadium tomorrow.

ʚɞ manny and nora are open mouthed and shocked when you walk hand in hand into the cafeteria the next morning, both starry eyed and covered in love bites as you sit together nearly attached at the hip. when owen walks in a few minutes later and quickly storms out after seeing the two of you, abby can’t help but shrug when manny asked her what the hell is going on.

ʚɞ “owen had his chance, and he should learn that jealously is a monster.”

ELLIE ꨄ

ʚɞ in moments like these ellie remembers laughing at how her fellow lesbians would fall for their straight friends in middle and high school and end up with broken hearts and broken friendships. and now as she sits across from you and listens to you lament about your boyfriend, she realizes that karma is real and she is totally a bitch.

ʚɞ truly, she has no one to blame, but herself the moment she saw you walk into the record store she worked at she knew that this would only lead to trouble for herself. It was obvious to Dina, who lightly pushed his shoulder and told her to stop drooling and to focus on her work and not fall into another relationship so soon after her catastrophic breakup with cat. she had rolled her eyes at the brunette and assured her nothing would happen, that she’d politely introduce herself, help you buy a product, and never think about or see you again.

ʚɞ god, what an idiot she was.

ʚɞ as soon as she introduced herself, you complemented her tattoo, mention that you had wanted one but were too indecisive about a design and placement. before she can even think of what she wants to say she’s telling you that wouldn’t mind hooking you up with her tattoo artist who could help you decide what you wanted. hell, she wouldn’t mind helping you decide what kind of vibe you were going for when it came to the body art and where exactly on your body would be best to showcase it.

ʚɞ you’re beaming up at her and thanking her, telling her that she really is just too kind. she’s even kinder when she continues to talk to you as she helps you look through the store, helping you decide which record would be best for your collection.

ʚɞ and helping you pick out another record as a gift. for your boyfriend. she can hear dina snicker at the counter all the way from three aisles away, passing it off as allergies when you turn to look at her.

ʚɞ but it’s not like she’s gonna fall for you. she gives you her number, but that’s because she already promised she’d help you with the tattoo stuff. and sure she talks with you for hours the following week and even goes with you to the parlor for moral support, but that’s because she’s a good person! and you even told her she’s a great friend for helping you with this! she’s just being friendly.

ʚɞ soon enough she basically becomes your new best friend. she doesn’t know how it happened really, somewhere between helping you when your car broke down in the middle of the road and having dinner with your parents when they demand to meet the person who’s been taking up an extra chunk of their daughters time. it’s frightening how easy it is to just be with you, to talk to you about any and everything. she remembers it took dina pestering her at work for weeks for them to become friends, and here she is laughing with your dad over roasted chicken after a month.

ʚɞ dina and jesse call her delusional. when the former shows the latter a picture of you on the instagram account you have to ellie he folds over in laughter and tells ellie oh so eloquently that she’s definitely going to fall for you, it’s only inevitable. but she remains vigilant that she wouldn’t do something so dumb. i mean yeah you’re basically exactly her type, like a deity went into one of her wet dreams and plucked the woman she manifested and placed you in the real world, but she was strong. there were plenty of fish in the sea. plenty of gay fish, to be exact.

ʚɞ she tries to go on dates, scrolls through tinder and likes every other attractive viable woman she sees. she even manages to have a few hookups. its really just a coincidence that they have some of your similar characteristics, truly. she’s not actually looking for you in any of these girls, that’d just be weird.

ʚɞ but then it happens. she has a girl over, her leg thrown over her shoulder as she grinds herself into the pretty girl’s cunt. she’s lost in a high after the blunt they’d shared earlier and her heads thrown back as she’s letting out expletive after expletive, and then she does it. she moans your name. she pauses, the girl pauses, and its silent as they remove their entangled limbs from each other and rigidly lay in bed side by side. it hurts even worse than the embarrassment when the girl pats her shoulder with a smile after she’s put her clothes back on, wishing her luck with whatever’s goin on between the two of you.

ʚɞ there’s no point in denying it then. she doesn't even get the chance to keep it to herself, the next day when she’s watching a movie on your couch you poke and prod at her until she reveals what’s got her in such a sour mood. she doesn't tell you the full story, of course, just that something absolutely mortifying happened last night when she was riding some girl. she groans that she didn't even get to finish and that was way worse then what she said, hoping the joke will ease some of the embarrassment she has telling the story and the guilt about passively lying to you.

ʚɞ she doesn't notice how you hips shift in your seat, how your teeth bite at the skin of your lip. she does notice when you question what she meant by riding a girl. she cant help but think about how adorable you are before explaining the position in the nicest way possible. you hum and turn your attention back to the movie and she thinks that's the end of the conversation. but only seconds later you’re asking her to show you.

ʚɞ she thinks she's dreaming. no, she knows she's dreaming. its happened before, weird dreams she has after a strong high where she swears her dreams become all the more vivid and lifelike. it was super annoying the second time it happened, she woke up to a world where she in fact did not win the lottery and get to make out with her celebrity crush. but this is just cruel, she didn't know her brain could be so masochistic. but no, the feel of your hand shaking her shoulder and shyly asking if you’ve made her uncomfortable is real, your big eyes flitting to anywhere but hers is real.

ʚɞ she stutters over her words, asking if you really mean it. and you say yeah, you’d been curious about this anyway. it wouldn't hurt to do it with ellie, you were friends, right? and god what an idiot she was because she’s nodding along like of course, this couldn’t make your friendship weird at all, right? so she gets to work, not doing anything too lewd except for gently pushing you to lie on your back as she maneuvers her body over yours, placing her crotch over yours until she can feel the heat of you through her jeans. she tries not to show a reaction to the sight of you looking up at her, curious and flushed as your hand briefly comes up to rest on her hip. its only when your hips delicately press up into hers that she abruptly removes herself from on top of you, stiffly chuckling before recommending you get back to the movie.

ʚɞ neither of you bring it up again.

ʚɞ it’s so much more difficult to be around you now. before she was resolute in the fact that she was alone in whatever weird feelings she had towards you, but eventually she might move on. but with only a few actions you threw that whole viewpoint out the window. now it was clear that you were interested. maybe not in ellie but in sex with another woman. a small part of her is upset at the fact it might not be her. its only cliche that if you started having these feelings you’d fall for your gay best friend, who the hell else were you thinking about? whatever, that wasn't important.

ʚɞ what was important was what occurred over the next few weeks. it happens slowly but surely, your complaints about your intimate troubles with your boyfriend. now ellie had met the guy before, and it made her feel slightly better that she had a valid reason right from the start not to like him. the man was clearly an ass, looking her up and down the first time they met and giving her a ‘yeah you’re weird’ look that he apparently didn’t think she’d recognize. luckily she didn’t have to see him often, only seeing him in passing when she spent time with you at yours or picked you up to go hang out.

ʚɞ but now his weirdness is apparently front and center. she nearly chokes on her chipotle when you tell her that he questioned why the two of you were spending so much time together, feeling like ellie was going to make a move on you.

ʚɞ and yeah, it was offensive. just because she was a lesbian didn’t mean she wanted to jump the bones of every woman she met. unfortunately that didn’t apply here because she very much did want to jump your bones. not like he knew that. hopefully.

ʚɞ but she doesn’t want to get in the way of your relationship, begrudgingly recommending that maybe the two of you should spend some time apart so he can chill out and realize he’s being paranoid. she’s very happy to hear your quick rebuttal, remarking how you’d rather dump him then spend any more time away from her.

ʚɞ god you are making this so confusing. and it only reaches a head the next time she sees you. you’d texted her to ask if she could come over late at night and obviously she said she would, along with a bag of your favorite drinks and snacks just in case you got peckish. so she’s sitting on the couch as you both eat some shareable m&ms when the topic becomes a bit more…intimate.

ʚɞ she notices your rigid shoulders as you sit stark straight on the couch and laughs about how pent up you must be. your following laugh is awkward as you agree that you have been a bit stressed lately. so she tells a joke, that your boyfriend isn’t up to par in bed. she expects you to laugh and hit her shoulder but you nod your head.

ʚɞ you…nod your head. and then you turn to her, and she’s getting flashbacks to the last time you were this close on your couch. her face is hot as whisper that the past few times you’ve tried to sleep with your boyfriend he, as you eloquently put it, ‘just pumps and dumps’, and brushes you off whenever you bring up the fact that you haven’t had a release. that as much as it ashamed you to say it, once he falls asleep next to you you sometimes find your hand trailing under your shorts and thinking back to her stories of the hookups she told you about, wishing she could show you how all of that felt.

ʚɞ ellie has always liked your bedroom. its soft and sweet, with vines of fake ivy hanging across the ceiling and a large canopy hanging over the bed. you even have an adorable collection of stuffed animals, a few of them gifted to you by her throughout the months of your friendship. all of the little guys have been shoved to the floor now, and for a fleeting moment she things they’re really just going to have to understand before her mind is consumed again with you, how you’re pretty flushed face is staring and moaning up at her as her wrist nearly cramps with how fast her fingers are pistoning into your wet cunt.

ʚɞ you haven’t even touched her and she’s already on cloud nine. your confession nearly made her pass out, and she swore she had died and gone to heaven when you asked her to help you with your problem and grabbed her hand to lead her to your bed. it was like her horniest dream come true to see you undress, to feel over your skin, to lower her head to your pussy and try her best to suck out your soul in the most loving way possible.

ʚɞ she feels her boxers get soaked when you cum around her fingers again, legs wrapping around her waist and head raising to muffle your sounds in her shoulder. she swore she nearly came when you bit into her shoulders, already knowing she was going to look into the mirror later to look at the mark your teeth left on her with a smile. but she didn’t predict for you to be so insatiable, for as soon as she pulls her fingers out of your cunt you’re whining and grinding your hips up into hers, whispering little *‘please, el, need more’*s

ʚɞ “don’t worry, baby, i’ll give you whatever you want. swear once i’m done you’re never even gonna think of that stupid boyfriend of yours again.”

[primalsharkman]

Ce n'est pas censé être.

Kim Minjeong x M Reader | 🔞 Smut

[idol x fan, childhood friends, best friends, falling out, farewells, reconciliation]

Word Count: 2,854

You woke up on a rainy morning, gathering your thoughts as you stare into the ceiling. You start doing your routine, getting up from bed, going to the bathroom to freshen up just enough for your morning jog, and wave at your neighbors along the way.

It was the quiet moment back at home that broke the standard practice that you've cultivated for years ever since you graduated. It was your phone, ringing.

"What could it be?" you thought to yourself as you picked up the phone to check. The message that you read was not something you'd ever expect in a million years. It was your old best friend, Aespa member, Kim "Winter" Minjeong.

Minjeong was someone very near and dear to you. You grew up together, living at the same street from each other, you'd always come to her so you two could walk to school together. She would always greet you with a smile, and even share her biscuits and lunch whenever you would forget to buy some.

It is a distant memory now, but she was the closest person in your life at one point. You shared many moments with her, like falling off an old rusty swing, her just laughing at you while you writhed in pain, the time she got dumped by a boyfriend, and you brought tissues and ice cream to her room to comfort her, you two almost did everything together. Inseparable, as many uncles and aunts would say about the two of you.

You continued reminiscing through your memories, like going to high school together drunk after a karaoke room date the night before, being each others' prom dates because you two were dorks and didn't care about looking for dates, and even the time you shared a kiss in the back of your car after she dared you to do it. It put a smile on your face while thinking about those memories, staring blankly at your phone, seeing her name pop up on the screen.

"Hey, are you in town?" That was what her text read, and you clutched your phone tight, thinking about what to say, since you already had mixed feelings ever the fight you two had, that basically never repaired your once tight-knit friendship.

It was a surprise, the day you told your mom you and Minjeong were no longer speaking, she was beyond devastated to hear it, and even made you cookies to cheer you up. You never told her the reason for it, and mostly kept that to yourself throughout college. You tried dating other girls to keep your mind occupied from thinking about her, but to no use.

"I am." That was the only sentence you could come up with before hitting send, and leaving your phone at the nightstand so you could get a shower in and change clothes.

That day was burned into your memory. It was a weekend, you two were at the park, and she was right there, next to you, looking nervous.

"What did you call me out for? I have exams tomorrow Minjeong." You say as you sit on the swing beside hers.

"It's important that you hear it directly from me." She said, not looking at your direction.

"Go on then?" Staring at her direction, while she still looked away.

"I'm going to leave town. I finally got the letter to become a trainee."

"That's great! I'm proud of you!"

" ... You don't understand, I'm leaving, for good. I can't come back to you, I cannot risk having my image tainted when people know we're very close, they're going to think we dated." She said, tears running down her cheek, but never making eye-contact with you.

"What? That's not going to happen." You try reaching out to her, but she stood up, away from you.

"I know nothing ever really happened between us, but I can't stay. I'm sorry, goodbye." Those were the last words you have heard from her before her debut, when you found out through your old schoolmates that Minjeong had debuted in a girl group under the stage name Winter.

It snapped you back to reality when you suddenly realized how she still remembers your phone number, you never changed it, but you never got another text from her from years ago.

"Okay, can you meet me at that ramen place we used to go to? I need to talk to you." She texted back.

You were unsure, but you replied back anyway, "Alright, what time do you need me there?"

"6pm, please."

"I'll see you there then." You left it at that and put your phone down to go about your day.

It was a weekday, so you were at work. Attempts to concentrate on your tasks were futile as you kept seeing Minjeong in your head, on your screen, and even in the reports you printed. It was staring to get really annoying, but you pushed through it.

You got off at exactly 5pm, and walked through the streets going straight to that ramen place you used to love to go with her to. Sure, it has changed over the years, but the overall flair and feeling of the place never changed, it was just that you grew up.

You got there early, and found a table in the corner of the room for two people, exactly like the spot you and Minjeong used to love to hang out on. Dropping your bag beside you, you took out your phone and waited for her.

As Minjeong went through town, she thankfully wasn't bothered by the locals. She is indeed famous, but she had immense respect from her hometown, and they mostly smiled and waved at her while giving her the space she needed to operate freely.

She was walking slowly, walking around to check the surroundings and admire how everything was better from when she was a kid. She bid hello to her old neighbors, and even the old shopkeepers that she knew from her time there, as she got closer and closer to that ramen shop, her heart starts sinking as she still feels the sting of what she did to you all those years ago.

At this point, you got bored, and asked the owner to make you two bowls of ramen, one for you, and one for Minjeong, customized the way she liked it every single time.

When she arrived, you were there, fiddling on your phone, and the way she looked at you was with both relief, and regret. Her footsteps got heavier the closer she started to get to you, and you didn't even bother to turn to greet her.

She sat down, put her bag down, and put her hands together. "Hello, Y/N. It's been a very long time, huh..."

As soon as she says that, the ramen arrives, and she saw her bowl, made exactly the way she wanted, indicating that you still know her, even after all this time apart. "Oh wow, you still remember."

"I never forgot, Minjeong. You also remembered my phone number." You say nonchalantly as you picked up your chopsticks.

" I never forgot, Y/N." She kept staring at you.

You finally look up to meet her eyes, and immediately, you knew that look. It was of sadness, pain, fear, and regret. The only thing missing was her tears, and it already started flowing. You reached out to her, and wiped it away with your thumb.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." As you shushing her.

"Don't say that, Minjeong. Don't you dare, say it."

"B-but I really am! I regret... everything..." Tears kept flowing down her cheek.

"Eat your ramen first, okay?" You say as you dig in to yours.

Minjeong just nodded while wiping away her tears as she enjoys a warm meal. The taste still felt the same to her, and she breathed in to feel all of it.

It wasn't long that you two finished your meal in silence, and you finally spoke up, "Is that all you came here for, Minjeong?"

"No, I got you something." She starts fiddling in her bag as she pulls out a tiny box.

"What's that?"

"Think of it as a reminder that, I'm not afraid anymore. I miss my best friend, and damn, am I a big fool for not seeing it earlier." She bows her head and hands it to you on both hands.

You take the small box, and open it to see a bracelet, custom-made with her initials and yours together. "This seems like something for couples Minjeong. What are you trying to say?"

"I want to make up for lost time. I want you to take the one thing you never took from me."

"Which is?" You raised a brow.

"Me. Take my first time. I've always wanted you to take it, and I've never looked for anyone else." She reaches out and holds your wrist.

"How are you sure I haven't lost mine?" You ask.

"It doesn't matter to me. I just... I just want the man who kissed me first, danced with me, sang with me, to fulfill his destiny of making me whole." Minjeong says genuinely.

It all ran by too quickly. You hailed a taxi, told the driver to head to your place, and sat quietly with Minjeong. It was the longest 15 minute drive of your life. The tension was high, you could tell Minjeong was blushing red, you were not showing it, but he is a little excited, and the traffic was excruciatingly slow for your own good.

You held her hand as you took the elevator up to your unit, making sure she had a cap and a mask on to protect her identity, and punched in the code to your place.

As soon as that door opened, you dragged Minjeong inside, closed the door, opened the lights, and tossed her cap and mask across the room.

In that same motion, Minjeong pressed her lips against yours, without hesitation, kissing you passionately. It was a long and sensual kiss, with her yearning for your touches, and grabbing your hair in the process.

You grabbed her ass, earning a small yelp from her, as you got to work undressing her. Starting with her top, which you carelessly removed and tossed across the room, her pants, which she unbuckled and kicked off, and your shirt, removed and tossed as well.

She was absolutely ready, wearing a red lingerie with barely anything to hide. Her panties was absolutely soaked, and you could tell by the darker shade of red where her pussy is waiting.

She bit her lips and unbuckled your pants, kneeling down along with it as she took it down to your ankles. You stared down at her, with her looking back up at you as she slowly admired the growing sensation inside your underwear.

Minjeong doesn't say anything, just grabbing the hem of your boxers and pulling it down, your length hitting her in the cheek.

Blushes formed across her face, but she composed herself and held it in her hand, as she stroked it softly and dry.

Small moans and groans escaped your lips, and you find yourself brushing her hair as she continued working your cock dry.

Her lips came close, and her tongue lashed out, hitting the head of your cock, which was a wonderful sensation, so you asked her to do it again. She nodded and complied, licking the tip of your cock and stroking your length.

"Stop teasing me, suck it." You commanded, and she complied, giving you a nod as she envelops those thick, soft lips around the head of your cock and humming to herself.

It was a wonderful sensation, sure, you are getting a blowjob from Winter of all people, but to you, this was your best friend, someone that you had feelings for, someone that broke your heart, and someone that will always have a place in its debris.

Having her slowly suck your cock is more than just a horny feeling, but a symbol of her apology to you, mending those broken bridges that she once destroyed herself by letting you have a very important aspect of both of your lives.

She slowly started taking in more of your length, getting even deeper as she continued to bob her head slowly up and down your cock, and damn, it felt good.

"Don't forget the balls." You say.

Minjeong deepthroated you, without any problem, and used her free hand to use the dripping saliva from her lips to lubricate your balls and fondle them softly.

It felt heavenly having her play with you like this, and it feels like you're about to bust from just her inexperienced mouth working on you.

"Okay, that's enough." You say sternly as you removed her from your cock and wipe her saliva off her chin.

"Was I good? You didn't cum yet." She says as you guide her towards your bed and helping her lie down.

"Yes, you're good. But I am not going to waste my time on your mouth when I can just have the best part." You say that as you grab her pussy and rub her clit through her panties.

Minjeong moans, " Yes... okay... please..." she pleads as you continue rubbing and stimulating her clit.

You climbed back on top, and slid her panties to the side. The glowing sheen her wet pussy gave is absolutely salivating. Your mind went blank just staring at the beautiful masterpiece that is her wet pussy.

"Hey.. stop staring.. I'll get shy." Minjeong reminded you after you started spacing out.

"Right, sorry." You grabbed the base of your well-lubricated cock and tapped it on her, garnering small whimpers.

She bit her fingers in anticipation of you finally taking her virginity once and for all. You kept rubbing the head of your cock along the slit of her entire pussy and Minjeong just can't stop moaning. She absolutely loves the feeling and it doesn't matter to her how you approach in taking her.

Your cock finally slides in her wet pussy, without any effort, like she's done it before. You know she hasn't, since her reactions say otherwise. She's shaking, blushing, and moaning at the same time.

Her face kept turning side ways as her body starts to adjust to the feeling of having you inside her, and you take her cheek to make her look at you as you slowly kept burying inch after inch deeper and deeper into the caverns of her wet pussy.

She's absolutely ecstatic, not helped by the way you're making her look directly at you, the only boy she ever liked, and the boy she left years ago in fear of her dream being crushed.

The only thing that is being crushed now is her pussy, and you're the number one suspect in making sure it gets used properly.

The feeling throws you off, it was very good, you start to doubt whether you're gonna make it long, but you persevere, and start thrusting deep.

Minjeong couldn't stop herself, moaning louder with each thrust and with each inch she feels withing herself.

"Y-yes! Just like that... Oh yes...!" She is absolutely losing control and she couldn't compose herself.

Minjeong was drowning in pleasure, and so were you. You picked up the pace, and started fucking her faster like your life depended on it.

Your thrusts banged on her again, and again, and again, creating skin to skin sounds that both you and Minjeong loved.

"Minjeong? Promise me something." You say as you're drilling her in balls deep.

"W-what is iT?! Oh! Ah!" Minjeong says with each thrust hitting her spot.

"This pussy is mine. Mine only."

"Yes! only yours! Yes!" She says as she moans and hisses with every strong thrust.

"Good girl."

Those words sent her over the edge, screaming and groaning as she came hard. "Yes! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

You slow down and come completely to a stop while rubbing her clit to let her ride out the orgasm, and pull out to let her breathe.

"No... give me that." She reaches and grabs your cock to jerk it off.

"I'm close anyway... I'm going to fucking cum Minjeong."

"On me." She points it at her face while she gives your cock long strokes.

You couldn't hold onto it anymore and release streak after streak of cum on her face.

"Yes... that's warm..." She says with her eyes closed as she catches some of your cum with her mouth.

After cumming, you lied down and gathered a minute or two to compose yourself. She cleaned herself up with a tissue and a towel before wrapping her arms around you.

"Thank you." She said as she slowly closed her eyes.

"You're welcome, Minjeong."

"I'll stay this time. Come with me to Seoul soon?" She asks.

"Okay Minjeong, let's make this work."

"I love you, Y/N. I always have."

"I love you too, my Minjeong. I forgive you."

She smiles as she allows herself to sleep in your arms.

-FIN-

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hey, I know it's been a long time, it's kind of been a rollercoaster year for me. And I've been struggling recently so, I hope whatever I cooked here can help me out. Thanks again for reading and uh, yeah, I hope everyone can get the happiness they need.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (III)

A whole lot of confusion as to whether Reader and her yakuza friend are actually dating. After much back and forth and a coworker being threatened, the awaited confession might finally take place.

Bonus part: Kazuya tells Reader about his and Daitou's past and how they ended up working for the yakuza.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence

Tags: @vinivave @ansy-tea @evvie8 @angelicbunnee @jingerbreadoutofstock @azukoya @randomlyblues @alien-consummation @neverlandlostchild @mimiemie @toji-whore @cloudie-skay @lilkittenmitten

[Part 2] | [Part 4] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

The items are scanned and Kazuya finishes paying. He looks back, searching for Daitou, and finds him wandering among the narrow aisles of magazines and manga. They'd stopped by the konbini at the train station after their job.

"Here's your bentou." The blonde man extends a small box, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "Say, do you have an upset stomach or something? You're uglier than usual." 

Daitou thanks him with a nod, but doesn't take the neatly packaged food. He's idly playing with the cover of a romance volume, bending and straightening its corner.

"Nah, nothing like that. Just, ya know, feels a bit like (Y/N)'s been avoiding me. She hurries straight home after work and barely waves hi. I thought we'd do more things together now that we're dating."

Kazuya nearly spits out the soda he opened while listening to Daitou's troubles. He snorts and quickly wipes his mouth. 

"Wait, are you serious? You actually asked her out? And she said yes??"

Daitou thinks back to the time he gifted you your stalker's finger and teeth, the way you defended him, and the way you quietly walked home and almost held hands. That pretty much made it official, didn't it? So he confidently nods to his utterly baffled partner in crime.

"You little rascal, you! Who would've thought you had it in you?!" He cheerfully slaps Daitou's back and wraps his arm around his neck. The dark haired man blushes and scratches his cheek awkwardly. "You should've told me earlier!"

True. Between the two of them, Kazuya has always been extremely charismatic and popular with women. His perfectly combed blonde hair, his sparkling designer suits, his luxuriously elegant cologne. The handsome features and assertive smile. More than once he'd been approached by modeling agencies, and he likes to joke his lust for violence stopped him from living the glamorous life. In comparison, Daitou has the opposite effect on people. The room will empty if he steps inside. He's unnervingly tall, with bulging muscles, has multiple scars crossing his face, and his prosthetic eye always ends up twisted in the strangest position, causing him to look like he's only missing the straight jacket. Everyone is shocked upon hearing about their friendship. 

So it makes sense that Kazuya would have the required experience to offer him decent advice when it comes to (Y/N).

"Listen here, if there's one thing you should know, it's that women like a guy that fights for them. You gotta show them you care. What can you offer that other guys can't?"

The tall man listens intently, with a concentrated frown as if taking mental notes. He's not entirely sure who he should fight in this ordeal, but he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Kazuya, so he nods vehemently to his words.

"That's the short preview. If you have any more questions, just come over later. I'm piss tired, so I'll go home and have the nap of a lifetime." He yawns deeply to showcase his exhaustion and slowly walks away, throwing his hand in a lazy wave. 

The yakuza remains standing, still ruminating over the words of wisdom generously offered by the expert himself. Is he to randomly beat up people on the street as you watch? Won't Boss be angry if he attacks civilians? He gasps in realization. Perhaps this is what Kazuya meant. What kind of man is he if he can't even go against his Boss? So what if Boss won't like it? He has to prove himself to you. 

With newfound determination, he clenches his fists and gazes out of the window. 

That's when he notices you. You seem to be returning from work. Even more - and this causes his jaw to tighten in anger - some unknown man is walking next to you, cheerfully chitchatting and gesturing. 

That settles it. 

"You really didn't have to walk me home." You laugh clumsily to the man at your side.

A new coworker recently joined your company, and you've been asked to show him the ropes. You gradually discovered you had quite a lot in common, throughout your ample opportunities to gossip and talk leisurely. Your schedule isn't as packed nowadays, given you'll show up earlier and leave later.

Normally you'd prefer to be in your warm bed as soon as possible, but you've been feeling rather tense since the incident with Daitou. During his heated exchange with Kazuya, you've heard mentions of 'being liked by women' and 'having a crush on someone'. You thought it involved you and you nervously awaited further explanations from Daitou himself, but on the way back he was completely silent. You didn't have the courage to bring it up, so you assumed there must've been a misunderstanding somewhere along the way. 

Which, after all, would make plenty of sense. What business would a yakuza have with you? He's already shown much more courtesy than it was required of him. Hoping he'd also confess his feelings on top of everything was downright ridiculous and you're embarrassed to admit you'd harbored such cheesy fantasies to begin with. 

"Don't sweat it. You might not know", the coworker warns with lowered voice, "but this area is reeking of gangsters. I'm surprised you've been fine so far, but you should be more careful."

"O-oh...I see..." You glance at him and hold back a smirk. You doubt he could protect you from Daitou or Kazuya, but you appreciate his chivalry nonetheless. 

There's an uncomfortable pause as you stand in your doorframe, having reached the intended destination. The man hasn't left yet, waiting expectantly. He lowers his head towards yours and you swiftly slam the door, muttering something about an emergency. 

"Cute." He thinks to himself as he chuckles and steps away.

There's always a next time.

The coworker heads towards the train station in a relaxed strut. At the first intersection, however, he feels his clothes being pulled and he finds himself abruptly shoved in an empty room by an unknown assailant. 

Daitou easily lifts him up by his collar and nonchalantly throws him in a chair. It seems to be a small storage unit, possibly belonging to one of the shops. 

"What's your business with (Y/N)?" He barks.

"Huh? I should be the one asking-" The man pauses for a second, going over his conversations with you. "Could it be that you're the stalker she mentioned?"

Naturally, you had left out the part where your stalker was carefully packaged and dumped in a place unknown. To your coworker, he was very much still alive and a potential threat.

The yakuza is taken aback. 

"I'm her boyfriend!" He retorts angrily. 

"Bullshit. She doesn't have a boyfriend."

Another slap to the face. Daitou's cheeks are becoming increasingly red and he runs his fingers through his hair, attempting to calm down. Why, this son of a...

He marches to one of the metal shelves behind, grabbing his tool belt. Simultaneously, the door opens and Kazuya sheepishly peeks his head in. His blonde locks are ruffled and one can tell he's freshly woken up. 

"Yo, I just realized I might've been too metaphorical with you back at the store so I've been texting you, but you didn't-...Wait, why is there a guy handcuffed to the chair?"

He crosses his arms, with a habitual scolding glare towards his friend. 

"I just caught this cockroach flirting with (Y/N)! Went all the way to her place!" Daitou whines, his face full of indignation.

"Of course you know where she lives, you fucking stalker." The coworker exclaims bitterly. 

"Watch your mouth buddy, he ain't no stalker!" Kazuya straightens his back and approaches the mysterious man. "If he's right, and you've been messing with his woman...We ain't letting that go. Today you learn why no one fucks with the yakuza." 

The two men exchange a knowing look.

You drop yourself on the sofa and groan. Tomorrow will certainly be strange. Was the coworker trying to kiss you just now? You'll have to think of a polite way to turn him down next shift. Is it because you're not interested, or because you're still hoping to have a chance with Daitou? You slap your cheeks vigorously, trying to pull yourself out of such thoughts. 

You suddenly notice the foreign wallet sticking out of your bag. Your  coworker had dropped it earlier today while running for the train, and you offered to throw it in your bag to save time. Except you forgot to return it.

You check your phone. It hasn't been that long, so maybe you can still reach him if you hurry. Without much contemplation, you pluck the wallet and sprint out.

As you dash past the buildings, you have the idea of calling the man and asking him to wait instead. Why run like a madman? You stop and rest a hand against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Ugh, you've been so scattered today. This should've been the obvious choice, instead you sprang out. Silly. 

From around the corner you can make out the familiar wails you've learned to ignore. Whoever the yakuza tortures is not your problem. You are about to scurry away, yet something about these whimpers feels odd. No...Could it be?

You tiptoe down the vacant alleyway and try to catch a glimpse inside through the small, dirty window. As a matter of fact, it is your beloved coworker. Kazuya is holding his arm against a table, with the fingers forcefully fanned out, and Daitou has a blade secured over the pinky finger. 

You elbow yourself against the door in a theatrical entry. 

"What the hell are you guys doing?! That's my coworker!" You yell.

Daitou freezes, and Kazuya instantly releases his grasp. They turn to you, shocked.

"Stay out of it, (Y/N), this is to be settled among men. This bastard insulted your boyfriend, we can't let it slide!" Kazuya regains his composure and defends his cause fervently, pointing to the man that's now sobbing and crying uncontrollably. 

"Boyfriend?" You question, mouth agape. 

The blonde man stares at you. 

"You're...You're dating, aren't you?"

"Since when?" You demand, confused and upset.

Both you and Kazuya turn to Daitou for answers.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. Did you actually ask her out, Daitou? Did you say it out loud?" Kazuya's voice breaks in exasperation.

"W-well, I didn't...I didn't say it, but I thought..." the man's eyes dart between you and his friend. He gulps. "W-we almost held hands, didn't we?"

Overwhelmed with anger, the blonde stomps over to the shelves and kicks one to make his point, loudly bemoaning his friend's lack of social awareness. He can't believe he went along with his nonsense. Him, of all people! He should've anticipated it. 

As the coworker weeps and Kazuya continues his foul monologue, you can't help the blush that's now burning across your face. You fidget anxiously next to the tattooed man.

"Y-you thought we were dating?"

"Sorry for not making it clear." Daitou is once again twiddling with his prosthetic eye, dejected. "Is it too late to ask you out now? Because I do like you a lot..."

"Since you put it so nicely...I can't really say no~" Your ears are bright red and you're twirling your hair. Is it truly happening? Are you dreaming? Everything feels snug and fuzzy and the butterflies are swarming your stomach. 

You don't have time to enjoy your romantic encounter, as Kazuya is now behind you, clearing his throat.

"Alright, you lovebirds, what about this one here, then?" 

You suddenly remember your coworker and an icy cold flashes through your body. 

"Oh God, how will I explain this at work? I'll get fired!" You bite your nails in terror. You can already visualize the slip of unemployment. The long lines at the Job Center, you and the homeless. Panic begins to build up. 

Until Daitou's large hands rest on your shoulders. He's unexpectedly warm. 

"Don't worry about it, (Y/N). I'll have a word with Boss, and we can get you a job here. This way we can spend more time together", he suggests with childish enthusiasm. 

You glance up at him, moved by his soothing words.

"I wouldn't want to bother you like that."

"Hey, it's my fault you ended up in this situation. You can leave everything to me." He reassures you proudly.

"That didn't answer my damn question." Kazuya points out, annoyed.

"Can't we just kill him or something? He did call me a stalker, and I'm still upset about that..."

Daitou stretches and sighs in boredom, pondering the options. Once he's decided on the outcome, he shoos you away lovingly. You don't need to see this part. 

Bonus: Daitou's backstory 

"Oh, right, how did it go with your tickets?"

Kazuya is walking beside you, hands in pockets. Every now and then he removes the cigarette from his mouth to tap away the piling ash.

"Well, I still have both kidneys, but I won't be swimming in cash for the next months at least." You respond, slouching your shoulders dramatically for the effect. 

"Flying abroad is always expensive. Unless, I don't know, you book years in advance."

"Yeah. I should've looked earlier, but I wasn't sure about my work schedule. At least I get to see my family and friends for Christmas." 

After a few more steps in silence, you glance up at the blonde man. He notices your curious stare and raises his eyebrows, as if encouraging you to speak up. 

"What about you? Will you be going home for the holidays?"

He grins at your question and proudly places a hand on his chest.

"This is my home, actually! I was born and raised in this very neighborhood."

"Really? Was it not a yakuza quarter before?" Your eyes widen at his statement. 

"It was." Kazuya blows some of his smoke in your direction and you cough lightly. "You know the soapland further down the street?"

You nod.

"Mom used to work there. One of the clients got her pregnant and she found out too late. She had a room upstairs, and I just kind of tagged along. The other girls looked after me, too."

You recall one instance when Kazuya received a phone call about some drunkard causing a ruckus at the brothel, and he shot up without a word, rushed out and returned with bloodied knuckles. At the time, you'd assumed he's a client himself and maybe got attached to one of the girls. Now it makes sense. You're a little embarrassed of your obvious prejudice. If he grew up there, it must be his way of showing gratitude to the workers who loved him despite the circumstances. 

"Oh, what about Daitou, then? Is he from the area, too?"

The man frowns and purses his lips thoughtfully. After a moment, his features soften up again and he sighs.

"I suppose you're his girlfriend, after all. It's also not a secret per se..."

Your ears perk up at the strange reaction to your inquiry. 

"I mean, it's just a bit of a grim topic. No one knows for sure. Boss found him on the streets years ago, when he was a wee kid." 

He presses his thumb and index finger together, emphasizing the small size to you. 

"I don't know all the details, just what the Seniors told me - I was a kid myself back then - but it was pretty bad. Had no shoes on, scratches and cuts all over. His left eye was swollen and terribly infected, that's how he lost it, actually. Boss felt sorry for him, so he took him in.

They did try to ask him for parents or relatives, but apparently he wouldn't speak at all. Took him like a year to finally open his mouth. Even now, if you ask him anything about his past, he just pretends he didn't hear you. So maybe don't bring it up to him."

You shake your head along, urging him to continue with more details. Kazuya seems to warm up to the memories and slows down, indulging in the recollection. 

"Anyways, one day Boss' car is followed and he gets shot in the shoulder. Some snot-nosed trainees from the rival gang. They hadn't even gotten their pins yet, wanted to impress their older brothers I guess.

Daitou heard about it and went after them. One of our Seniors - he's a tough guy alright, been with the Family for decades - he told me he was sweating like mad when they found him. Daitou was just a teen at the time, but he butchered those guys up so bad they couldn't tell them apart anymore. Even bit a few bullets, and still kept going, like a crazed animal. The adults were freaking out. They didn't expect him to be this strong.

I suspect they were pretty afraid of him, you know? They were probably thinking, "if one day he has it out for us, we're done for!", so they told Boss they should kick him out. But at this point Daitou was like his own son, so he laughed and said, "What's the matter with ya, he does your dirty work and you wanna get rid of him?! If the boy wants to fight, let him!", and he arranged for Daitou to join the Family officially. I was recruited around the same time.

We didn't get along at first, I mean, they warned me to stay away because he's crazy and also Boss' favorite. He didn't hang out with anyone. He had his own jobs, the mercenary stuff no one else wanted to deal with.

You might not believe it, but back then I was an angry, stubborn asshole. It didn't sit well with me that this guy was out there, doing his own thing. I had a reputation myself, before I dropped out of high school I was pretty much undefeated. I thought I'd see it with my own eyes, this all-powerful jackass even the Seniors avoided."

You smile faintly, trying to imagine a young Kazuya without the expensive, flashy suit and polished appearance.

"So one evening I just walked up to him and told him to join me outside. Didn't even give him a speech, just rammed my fist into his face. This was my signature move, you know, I can't even count how many guys I knocked out with this punch. Straight into the jaw, sends your brain spinning. Whew, and this guy? He didn't even flinch! Just stood there and looked at me like I was dumb. I was pissed off at this point, you can imagine, it felt like he was mocking me. So I yelled we ain't done until one of us gives up. 

He understood what I wanted and finally fought me earnestly. Hell, he even knocked some of my teeth out. This one here's an implant. Mad expensive. Anyhow, as much as it hurt my pride, I'd lost fair and square. So I got up, wiped the blood, and asked him to come grab a drink with me. My treat. 

You should've seen his face, (Y/N). I think it was the first time I've witnessed him smile. 'Really? Can I? Are you sure?' He was like a stray dog after you've thrown him some leftovers. Kept that dumb grin the whole night. You could've given him a clown hat and people would've paid to see the circus. 

That's when I realized this poor bastard probably just wanted a friend. The next day I went to pick him up again and he was beaming like a princess. Heh. Afterwards he started following me around and eventually Boss called me in. I thought I got into trouble or something, even brought a bunch of gauze pads in case I needed to slice off my finger. Turns out he'd heard of us becoming pals, and he asked me to maybe attend Daitou every now and then because he always leaves a mess and everyone's too scared to deal with him. We've been teamed together ever since."

You realize you've been standing in the same spot ever since Kazuya begun talking, completely entranced by his story. He chuckles upon seeing your expression and ruffles your hair. 

"Man, I sure rambled a lot. Sorry about that. In any case, that was my piece about Daitou. I'm sure you already know this, but he's not a bad guy. Just has a twisted sense of loyalty. Once he finds someone to serve, he doesn't see anything else.

Hell, I'm his closest friend and I'm convinced he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if it was for Boss."

Upon further consideration, he smiles and winks at you.

"Or for you. Especially you."

[fazedlight]

Kiss (post-canon fluff)

Fuck.

What was I thinking?

Lena stood frozen at her door, continuing to mentally curse herself, as a wide-eyed Kara stared back.

It had been a fun evening. The pair had cooked dinner together, curled up on the couch to watch a movie together, cleaned up together. Kara had teasingly splashed dish bubbles in Lena’s direction, with Lena taking the sink sprayer for a quick revenge. It was playful and domestic and everything Lena longed for. 

Well, almost everything.

That cozy and domestic warmth filled her chest, and she hadn’t really been thinking as Kara had hugged her before heading out for the night. Lena had simply operated on instinct, pressing a small kiss to Kara’s cheek.

Which led to their current predicament, staring at each other in wide-eyed shock. Friends do that sometimes, right?, Lena thought desperately, praying she would melt into the floor.

But she waited under Kara’s curious gaze, blue eyes darting between hers in silence. “Sorry,” Lena began to whisper-

But Kara leaned forward… placing her own kiss on Lena’s cheek, causing Lena to stiffen in yet another layer of surprise. “Good night, Lena,” Kara said, lingering for a moment as Lena’s heart fluttered.

Kara finally pulled away, leaving Lena wondering what did it mean? “Good night,” Lena replied.

---

They said nothing.

Monday brought its own aggravations as Lena met with a few investors for dinner. She put on the normal smile and dance, speaking decisively of profit margins and dividends, until the night was finally done. The investors filtered their way back to a nearby hotel, and Lena stepped outside for solitude and fresh air - pausing to take in the pleasant evening before calling Hector to drive her back to her condo.

“Walk you home?” came the familiar voice.

Lena turned, smiling as she noticed Kara a few steps away, holding her sneakers. “I’d love to,” Lena said, trading off her heels for the far more comfortable shoes. After a moment, the two began to make their way down the quiet sidewalk.

“I can’t wait until I stop doing this,” Lena said, “I’m ready to be done being CEO.”

“When does Andrea start?” Kara asked.

“Next week,” Lena said, “She’s in Metropolis, meeting with Sam to discuss the finances.”

Kara hummed approvingly. “I’m glad you get to focus on the engineering side again.”

Lena smiled, lightly jabbing Kara’s side. “How about you? How’s being a new Editor-in-Chief treating you?”

“Cat hasn’t changed,” Kara grinned widely, and Lena cast back a knowing look. But Kara’s face softened as she glanced ahead. “Though I realized I sort of have.”

“How so?” Lena asked.

Kara bit at her lip. “It’s harder to pretend to be things I’m not.”

Lena tilted her head in curiosity, but she didn’t press, content to walk arm-in-arm down the street with the contemplative blonde. Kara would say more when she was ready, and Lena was happy to wait.

They eventually came to her building, and then her door. Lena turned around to face the blonde. “Do you want to come in?” Lena said.

To her surprise, Kara shook her head. “I have some thinking to do.”

Lena nodded, but she was surprised when Kara tilted her head forward, eyeing the Luthor for a reaction, asking a silent question. Lena’s gaze was curious - she wondered if Kara was listening to her heartbeat - but she remained steady, shyly granting the permission Kara sought.

Kara pressed a soft kiss to Lena’s cheek. “Good night, Lena.”

Lena could feel herself flush, reaching up with a shaking hand to cup Kara’s face. She leaned to the side, pressing a kiss against Kara’s opposite cheek. “Good night, Kara.”

When she made it to the other side of her door - hearing Kara’s footsteps fade down the hall - she found herself wondering. Is this friendship for her?, Lena thought, mulling over whether the kryptonian knew how unusual their behavior was.

Was it a hint that Kara had developed deeper feelings?

Or would Kara be disconcerted to know that Lena wanted more?

---

LCorp was chaos - in the normal way that any company was with a CEO handoff - and the week passed by in a blur as a result. But Andrea was no rookie, and Lena trusted her enough to start handling the business solo.

Finally.

Lena entered the Tower that Saturday morning with a buzz in her veins. LCorp would certainly have interesting science to tinker with, but magic was still only something Lena could experiment with here. 

She opened her mother’s grimoire, poring over the ancient volume, tapping at a 31st century quantum collider that Brainy had set up in the lab. Magic has to be a form of quantum mechanics, she thought.

Hours went by as she worked. She almost didn’t notice the patter of steps behind her, but she knew who it was. “Kara,” she said, turning to smile at the blonde who brought Chinese takeout in her wake.

“You have to be hungry,” Kara said.

“I didn’t notice,” Lena replied.

The two moved over to a neighboring table, unpacking the food, passing chopsticks and soy sauce before digging in. In a way, it felt like any normal Saturday where they weren’t out saving the world.

But in another way, it didn’t.

Kara seemed almost shy throughout the meal, even as they were cleaning up, even as they made their way to the Tower couches after Lena kicked off another experiment. Something was hesitant in her stance, a small reluctance in meeting Lena’s eyes. Maybe she does feel weird about us, Lena thought, feeling a tenseness in her gut in response.

Before they reached the couches, Kara stopped in her tracks.

“Kara?”

She heard a sigh in front of her. “I can’t pretend anymore,” Kara said.

“Pretend…?”

Kara turned to face Lena, swallowing, eyes darting between her own. The look on her face made Lena’s heart pound uncomfortably in her chest, both wary and impatient for what came next.

But she didn’t have to wait long. “I’m in love with you,” Kara said, “I can’t pretend I’m not.”

Lena’s eyes went wide.

“Nothing has to change,” Kara continued, “But I need you to know how I feel when I’m with you.”

Oh, Lena thought, taking a step closer to Kara, so she did realize.

Lena’s hand fluttered up to Kara’s face, cupping the blonde’s cheek as she tensed. Kara’s eyes darted curiously between Lena’s.

Lena smiled softly, drawing a slow smile from Kara’s lips, before Lena tilted up on her toes - pressing a kiss to Kara’s cheek.

Kara responded in kind, wrapping her arms around Lena’s waist, bringing her lips to Lena’s cheek in return. “I’ve been in love with you for years,” Lena murmured, as she felt the small puff of breath against her neck before Kara tilted her head back.

“I wondered if this was all in my head,” Kara confessed.

“I wondered if you didn’t realize that this was…”

“Unusual?” Kara laughed.

“Yeah,” Lena grinned. Kara smiled back, and Lena felt her heart swell in the warmth in Kara’s eyes.

“I’d like to kiss you for real now,” Kara said softly.

Lena tilted her head in welcome, as Kara leaned forward.

And finally, their lips met.

[outsideratheart]

Blind To The Signs (Leah Williamson x reader)

A/N: Fun fact, I started this in 2022 and a line in the Gavin & Stacey finale inspired me to finished it.

You were sure that Leah Williamson was the person for you but the timing never seemed right. You had met her at the Arsenal academy when you were 13 years old and since then you were inseparable but the line between friends and something more never got crossed.

There was one night when you almost kissed. It was after the world cup in Paris, you were heartbroken having felt like you let the team down and Leah refused to leave your side. It was how you found yourself walking the streets of the French capital in comfortable silence with your best friend. It was your first time visiting the city and after a few days you realised why it was called the city of love. You wouldn’t be able to say for sure what it was but there was something in the air, something that made you want to be in love, to be in Paris with the woman you love. When you and Leah stopped at bench overlooking the river Seine you realised that you were. With your mind free of football it allowed your heart to tell you how you truly felt about your best friend.

The bench was small, in fact in barely held the two of you. Leah was sitting close to you and when she turned to talk to you she was inches away from you. In that moment you knew your mind was consumed by one thought, you wanted to kiss her. You leaned in but then ducked to the side at the last minute. You covered your true intention by saying that Leah had an eye lash on her cheek, this of course was a lie.

It did get you thinking though. If you were to have gone through with it, would she have kissed you back? Was she having the same thoughts as you? These questions freaked you out. How could you be thinking about Leah in this way, you had been friends for what felt like forever, this couldn’t happen. 

That was the last night you allowed yourself to see Leah in this light. 

A couple of months later Leah had told you that she starting dating Jordan and it was enough for you to know that Leah had your heart whilst Jordan had hers.

As time went on more people learned about your feelings for Leah. You never denied them but you refused to confess. There was too much on the line and you wouldn’t let your friendship be ruined should Leah not feel the same way. 

Then Jordan and Leah broke up leading your best friend to move in with you. Even though you didn’t think it possible, the two of you got closer. You would spend your nights cuddled up on the sofa watching whatever caught your fancy on the TV but your attention very rarely stayed on the screen for the blonde next to you had your attention. This caused the feelings you buried to soon come rising to the surface only they were stronger than before. 

You knew you were tormenting yourself with the what ifs so you told yourself that when you went back to London after Christmas break that you would tell her how you feel. Only thing is Leah never came home, she only texted you saying she would meet you at training and that she had something she wanted to talk to you about. Your stomach filled with butterflies at her response.

The next day you arrived at training earlier than usual. When you see Leah your body pulls you towards her. The hope in your heart soon fades when Jordan appears by her side, your gaze lowering when she reaches for Leah’s hand.

“Before training, we have something to tell you” Leah says as the rest of the team gathers around.

“£50 says they’re back together” Beth says from the side of you.

Deep down you knew she was right yet you choose to hold onto the hope that she was wrong so you agreed to her bet.

“We’re getting married!” 

Suddenly the £50 loss was the last of your worries. 

The two of them approached each player handing them an invite. Leah stops at you and you can tell she is trying to read your face.

“Congratulations Leah” you are numb. You don’t feel sad and you definitely don’t feel happy. In fact you feel nothing at all.

The white envelope felt heavy in your hands, almost as heavy as your heart.

Holding the invite you realise that you are too late.

The next few months both tested you and teared you down in the process. Leah wanted you to be involved in the wedding planning because she claimed that you knew her better than anyone including herself. You wanted to argue and say that Jordan should know her best but you knew it wouldn’t lead to anything good so you bit your tongue. 

When she asked you to be Maid of Honour you politely declined. You wanted Leah to happy, in fact that was the thing that meant most to you in this world. That being said you knew you couldn’t stand there and watch her marry someone when you truly believed it was you who should be standing opposite her at the altar.

The thought of losing Leah became too big of a burden to bare and as the big day got closer you began to shut off. The only way to cope was to ignore the wedding completely and hope that you would wake up to find that it was all a nightmare.

You never did send back the r.s.v.p. From the moment you received the invitation you never intended on going. Yes she was your best friend but sometimes there are moments that will destroy you into millions of pieces and you have to make the decision to put your wellbeing over doing what everyone else things you should do.

‘Y/N” Leah ran after you as you left St George’s park. It was the last camp before the summer break and her wedding. It was the last moment Leah would see you before she would say I do.

“Leah, whatever it is will have to wait. I have to be back in London for a meeting” it wasn’t a lie but you also didn’t share that the meeting was a evening meeting and it was only 11am.

It might have been small but Leah noticed how you called her by her full birth name. You never called her Leah, only Lee. Well you did call her Leah Catherine whenever she was in trouble but you hadn’t even called her that recently.

“I heard you talking to the girls. Can you really not come to my wedding?” 

Her tone broke your heart even more. You swallow deeply. You didn’t want to have this conversation with her but here you stand. Words failed you in that moment so you shook your head. It was the only way you could respond to the question.

“Are you sure?” Leah hoped that you would be able to change whatever event or meeting that was stopping you from attending. 

“I’m sure” two words, you could handle saying two words. 

“You know there will be a place for you if your plans change” Your best friend still remained hopeful that you would be there on her big day. That hope however was shattered into smithereens with your next sentence and it left her wondering what you truly meant.

“We both know I don’t have any plans” there’s no way that Leah could think you would miss her wedding if not for a very good reason. She had to have felt the connection you both had and you knew that if the roles were reversed then she would do the exact same thing.

With that being said you got into your car and Leah watched you drive away. Yes, you were leaving St George’s park but she couldn’t help but think if you were driving away from her as well. 

We both know I don’t have plans.

For weeks those 7 words played on a loop in Leah’s head. What did you mean by them? She was confused.

The night before the wedding you contemplated texting or calling her to tell her that you’re madly in love with her. You had seen the movies and this is one of the ways to get the girl. When you meet up with Jill a couple of days ago she made a joke that you should stand up and profess your love for Leah when the vicar asks if anyone has a reason why her and Jordan shouldn’t get married. You thought about it but ultimately the fear of rejection made your decision for you.

You buried your feeling in the bottle of whiskey that you opened the night you found out about the pending nuptials. It seemed fitting that you would finish the bottle the night before the ceremony.

With a freshly poured glass of the burning liquor, you make you way out to the balcony that looked out over the city of london. Even though it was late there were several people walking the streets. You thought for moment if one of them could be your person but you knew that there would never be anyone that compared to Leah. She was it for you. She might be your person but Jordan was hers or was she?

Your phone went off signalling you had received a text message.

I’m at your door.

The text message was from Leah.

You re-read it a couple of times as your mind tried to figure out what the best thing to do was. Your head was telling you to let her in and say nothing but you heart wanted to scream ‘I love you’.

The sight on the other side of the threshold took your breathe away. Leah was wearing a dress which was a rare sight in itself but then you remember that she had a meal with her and Jordan’s families.

You move aside so she can enter your home.

“I’m making a mistake aren’t I?” Her question is asked before you can shut the door. It has been a question that had been on her mind for most of the evening.

A couple of hours ago Leah found herself at a posh restaurant with her parents, her soon to be wife and future in-laws. Her father had off handedly mentioned your name and from that moment on you were the only person Leah could think about. It all became a bit much so she politely excused herself from the table. Jordan stood up prepared to go after her but Leah’s mum said she would go see if everything was ok. 

“Leah…”

“I’m getting married mum. Why aren’t I excited? Why don’t I feel the butterflies? You told me how you were the night before you married dad and this isn’t that” 

Amanda knew why and deep down she knew her daughter knew why as well. The only difference is that the older woman could see what was right in front of her and Leah, for some reason, was blind to it. Leah’s mum saw the way Leah had been with you for years and then she saw the way she was with Jordan. Sure it was love but it wasn’t true love. No, true love was the way Leah would talk about you and how her face would light up at the mention of your name.

“Why do you think? Sweetie, I cannot tell you why. You have the figure this out for yourself”

“That’s not helpful mum” Leah was growing frustrated. For the last couple of weeks she kept feeling overwhelmed and not in the way she should be. The excitement she once felt for getting married had died down.

“Leah you know why. You have told me that you’ve loved two women. Now is the time to figure out which one you want to spend your life with”

“You’re talking about Y/N? We aren’t really talking at the minute”

“And why do you think that is?”

“She’s really busy. She has taken more responsibility on lately”

“and when did this start?” Amanda knew when you had taken on all this work and she knew it had been a distraction.

“I don’t….” Leah thought about it for a brief moment “it was after me and Jordan got engaged” her mother nodded her head. Her daughter was a smart girl and she was getting close.

Just as Leah was about to say something else Jordan interrupted saying that their main course had arrived. Only now Leah had no appetite, nor did she want to back into the restaurant. 

This was your chance, she is giving you the perfect opportunity. All you had to do was be honest with her.

“What do you think is a mistake?” You were a coward.

“Marrying Jordan” She goes straight to your freezer as she takes the bottle of Vodka out and pours herself a glass. 

“Do you love her? Are you in love with her?” You asked her the questions hoping that she would answer the way you wanted.

“I do” 

For a split second you mind wanders. You are in the church with Leah standing opposite you, she says those same words before you kiss your bride. You quickly shake the thoughts from your head. 

“Then no, it isn’t a mistake” 

You couldn’t blame Leah for the way you were feeling, you were breaking your own heart.

“You think it is though? That’s why you have barely talked to me since I told I was getting married” 

Leah continued to push you. It felt like she wanted to you to tell her not to get married but you couldn’t do that.

“I won’t lie, it’s been hard. It has been me and you for the longest time, now it will be you and her”

This was another thing. You wasn’t only losing your one true love, you were losing your best friend. 

“It will still be me and you” 

“No it won’t. It hasn’t been for a while now”

“That’s not on me Y/N”

Leah was right, it wasn’t but it didn’t make it easier. The tension between the two of you was building and you knew it wouldn’t end well if the conversation continued so you decided to change the subject. You mind says something before you heart can stop it.

“What if I come tomorrow?” Why were you asking this? It wasn’t something you wanted.

“You had pla-“ Leah stops herself as she remembers what you said in the car park “You don’t have plans so why are you suddenly saying you’ll come”

“Do you want me there?” You pull the oldest trick in the avoidance book and answer her question with a question of your own.

Leah nods. Everything felt right when you were with her and she knew that she was getting cold feet although the reason why was lost on her. In that moment you do what you haven’t done this entire time and you put Leah’s wants and needs ahead of your own. 

“Do you want to come?” 

“What I want doesn’t matter” for the first time since she stepped foot in your apartment you look her in the eye. Oh those blue eyes. You see the ocean in her eyes but she sees pain and heartbreak in yours. In that moment, for the first time, she hears a small voice in her head telling her ‘you’re hurting her Leah’.

“Do you promise to come to my wedding?” Leah asks selfishly.

You hold your pinky out. Never in all the years of knowing Leah had you broken at pinky promise. 

You hold out your little finger but you don’t say the words, you can’t. You know that the night needs to end before you say something you cannot take back so you go to the door and hold it open for Leah.

For the first since you moved into your apartment, she doesn’t feel welcome.

“Y/N” she grabs your hand “What is wrong? You can tell me, we don’t keep secrets”

“Things change Leah” you pull away from her touch. Never have you spoken a sentence that held so many meanings. 

You watch Leah as she enters the elevator. Once she is out of sight you close your door. A mighty weight comes crashing down on you. This was actually happening, Leah was going to marry Jordan. She gave you the chance to stop and you didn’t take it. 

The next day you found yourself standing in the mirror. You had your emergency event suit on and you remember the irony that is that Leah helped pick it out. In that moment neither of you thought you would be wearing it to her wedding. 

The ceremony was at a small church in Milton Keynes. You thought about asking Millie if she wanted to carpool but ultimately decide against it. This way if you changed your mind at the last minute nobody would know. So far everyone in attendance thought you weren’t coming and you chose to keep it that way.

It felt as if you heart was shaking as you entered the church. All heads turned to face you and you could tell that they were all wondering why you were there. You took a place next to Jill and Viv and sat on the aisle. The two Dutchies were close friends of yours, they knew your feeling towards the bride to be but you also knew they would ask no questions. What you didn’t notice is that some of your England team mates sat in front of you.

“I knew you would come. You’re going to stop it, right?” Lucy asked in a hushed tone.

“I’m here to support Leah on her big day just as you all are” support was a strong word but it sounded like the right thing to say. What you didn’t expect was for those who were looking at you to do so with pity in their eyes. 

“Guys, it’s ok, really” it was delusion talking and that was confirmed when you locked eyes with Amanda who was sitting on the front row. She looked at you with an expression you did not recognise before proceeding to shake her head. What was she trying to tell you? Was she saying no? No to you being there? No to Leah not wanting to get married? You didn’t have a clue. 

The church grew silent and you know the wedding was starting. Jordan came down the aisle first and she looked beautiful then came Leah. You were on your feet and when you saw her you wanted to sit back down as it hit you that you shouldn’t be here. If not for Jill then you would have sunk into your seat for the Dutch had held you up. When you looked back at her she saw that your eyes had glassed over. 

“You’ve got this” she tried to reassure you and she was wrong but you didn’t have much of a choice. When Leah walk past you she smiled, she was happy. That made you return the smile. You kept telling yourself that if Leah was happy then you could be happy for her.

The ceremony itself was beautiful. Jordan spoke about Leah as if she hung the stars but there was something about the way Leah spoke. You had been there for the highs and lows of her and Jordan’s relationship. Time and time again you heard Leah speak about how Jordan made her feel and all the memories they had shared yet when it came down to the vows her voice was shaky. Something was wrong and once again Amanda looked your way. This time round the reason why she was shaking her head was clear. Leah didn’t want this. 

When the vicar asked if anyone had any objections you felt eyes on you from your left, right and some burning holes into the back on your head but no gaze felt as strong as your best friend. She was looking at you, she was begging you to say something but you couldn’t. 

What happened next was unexpected. Jordan leaned forward and whispered something in her ear.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Jordan didn’t care for the church full of people. She wanted to know what was going on in Leah’s head. 

“I can’t marry you Jordan” whilst Jordan’s words were a whisper, Leah’s were loud enough for everyone to hear, yourself included.

With that being said Leah ran down the aisle and out of the church. Nobody knew what to do or so you thought. Turns out the mother of the bride knew exactly what needed to happen.

“Go after her” Amanda says. You look at Jordan wondering what is taking so long to go after Leah only that isn’t who she is talking to. “Y/N, go” 

Suddenly all eyes were on you. You didn’t know what to do. 

“Y/N” you turn to face Jill “this is your chance. You told me that you have loved Leah for years and now is your chance to tell her” 

You look at Jordan who still stood at the front of the alter and mouth I’m sorry.

Leah was almost at the car she came in by the time you reach the doors of the church. 

“Leah!!” You shout as you run after her.

“Why did you tell me to marry her?” Leah was angry at you but you didn’t understand why. In your eyes you were doing the right thing.

“Because you said you loved her. I can’t stand in the middle of that Leah”

“What if I love someone else more? I am going to ask you one more time and I want you to tell me the truth. No avoiding and no lies. Why didn’t want to come today?” 

Now is your chance. That is what Jill told you. Now, right now in this very moment, is the chance for you to tell Leah exactly how you felt. 

“Because I couldn’t stand there and watch you marry Jordan. I didn’t want to be in the audience as you vow to love someone for the rest of your life when that someone isn’t me. I love you Leah and knowing you were going to marry someone else destroyed me. I have been working myself to the bone to stay distracted so that I don’t think about it and about you. My heart has been in pieces since the day you told me you were engaged. I hoped that I could make myself get over you but it was impossible. I should have known that I couldn’t get over you in a matter of months when I hadn’t been able to do so in years. You’re all I’ve ever wanted Leah”

“You should have said something. The vicar gave you a chance to say something” 

“Oh you sound like Jill”

“Jill knows?”

“Lee, everyone knows I love you. It was only you that couldn’t see it”

There it was. No more Leah, it was back to Lee. Being with you in this very moment lifted a weight off of Leah that she didn’t know was suffocating her. Then again everything did feel right when she was with you. All of a sudden she notices the signs. There has been plenty over the years but you were right, Leah was blind to them all. How could she has missed something that has been standing right in front of her.

Silence grew between you. You could tell Leah was thinking and given every thing that had happened in the last ten minutes you gave her space. She has just ran out of her wedding leaving the woman she thought she loved behind. 

“I’ve made a mistake” 

You felt your heart drop as she finished her sentence. 

“I understand. It’s not too late to go back in there. We can say you got overwhelmed but you do want to marry Jordan” even now, after you have just confessed your love, you were willing to follow your best friend’s lead. 

“No, I made a mistake with Jordan. I knew I had feelings for you when I started dating her. She was a distraction but then I started to care for her. When she proposed it seemed like the right thing to do” 

“That’s not what you should feel when someone proposes to you” 

This is something she knew but when you have someone down on one knee in front of you it is hard to differentiate between what you actually want and what you think you want. 

“What do you want Leah?” You asked hoping she would be honest not just with you but also with herself.

“I don’t want to marry Jordan” confession number one.

“I don’t want to wear this dress anymore” confession number two.

Then came what she did want.

“I want to be with the girl that I love, truly and deeply love. I want to be with you”

You nodded your head with a huge smile on your face. Now it was time to act on what Leah has just told you. The blonde watched you dial a number in your phone.

“What are you doing?” 

“Rectifying the situation” you playfully wink at her.

You paced forwards and backwards as you wait for the person on the other end of the line to answer.

“Hi. Yes, Leah is with me. I think she is ok, Leah are you ok?” Leah nods “yeah, she is ok. There isn’t going to be a wedding Amanda. Leah doesn’t want to marry Jordan. You will? Thank you. Of course I will look after her”

Confession one, dealt with. Confession two might be a bit hard right now so you skip to confession three.

“Do you really love me? I know I just layed a lot on you and you are probably very overwhelmed right now”

In less than a second you feel Leah’s lips on yours. This act of intimacy was her way of answering your question and it couldn’t have been clearer. You didn’t want to take advantage of the situation but everything in you was screaming, begging, for you to deepen the kiss so that is exactly what you do.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since Paris” you remember the moment vividly and wonder if it would have felt this way back then or if it would feel different.

“Maybe if you did then it could have been us in that church today. We wouldn’t have wasted years being apart”

“Don’t worry Lee, I don’t plan on wasting another second” and with that you kiss her again but this time you kiss her with all the pent up love that you had buried deep down. 

[obsesssedblerd]

Birthday Wishes

Synopsis: You, your kids, and all of your friends and colleagues work together to give your husband, Satoru, the best birthday ever. 

Pairing: husband! Gojo x f! reader

Contains: Teeth-rotting fluff, comfort, angst but i promise it’s brief, canon divergence, reader and gojo are married and they adopted the first years, reader and gojo also have a baby together, the students being students, yuuji planning a party, everyone is happy bc i freaking said so. 

wc: 3.2k

a/n: happy birthday satoru <3 you’re so loved.

likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated <3 (also, if you want to read the first part where they adopt the first years, it’s here!)

barely proofread, sorry for mistakes.

— — — — — 

The first time Satoru felt bothered about birthdays was when he was seven, and he was walking around the city on his own so he wouldn’t have to deal with his annoying trainers. He passed by a park, and he saw a family singing happy birthday to a young boy. He was surrounded by his family and friends, who all looked happy to be there with him. There were presents, a cake that everyone shared, and decorations that the boy loved.

The sight made his heart pinch slightly, and he began imagining how his birthday party would look if the world was perfect and far kinder to him. As he grew older, that pinch on his heart turned into a tight squeeze, an ache that intensified with every minuscule reminder that he truly was alone in this world, no matter what people told him. 

Even though he attempted to shove the idea of birthday parties, celebrations with friends, and a family to hug him tight on his special day to the back of his head so it wouldn’t hurt as much, every year on December 7th, he found himself making a birthday wish when it was late and everyone else was asleep.

I wish I could make friends; when he turned eight. 

I wish I could have a party; when he turned eleven. 

I wish I could have a normal day for once; when he turned fifteen. 

I wish I could stop having nightmares about Toji; when he turned eighteen. 

I wish Suguru would come back; when he turned twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, and twenty-three. 

It was fine. He was the strongest. He shouldn’t feel that way about a birthday. They were stupid and beneath him anyway, right? He’s not like everyone else, even though there was a tiny sliver of something heartbroken within him, constantly screaming about how badly he wanted to be like everyone else. 

–

“Satoru.” 

The nightmare has the same scene as the others. The crowded street in Shinjuku, Satoru’s heavy breathing as he’s desperately blinking back tears, and Suguru, dressed in black, slowly turning around so his back was facing him. 

God, no. Not again. 

“Satoru.” Suguru’s tone is dismissive, and Satoru’s feet are glued to his spot on the sidewalk. He can’t follow him where he’s going. He never could. All he could do is watch as his best friend walks away, leaving him and the friendship they had behind. 

No. Please. 

He knows how this ends, but it still hurts. Around him, the people and buildings start to darken, and the light fades with every step Suguru takes away from him until he’s alone in pitch black. Soon, there’s nothing but a sickening, shadowy silence. 

– 

“Satoru.” 

The voice that calls his name isn’t Suguru’s from the nightmare. It’s soft, feminine, patient, and so full of love. You. He feels fingers tenderly brush against his cheek, and he stirs in his sleep with a small groan. 

“Baby,” you call him again. “It's time to wake up.” 

Satoru’s eyes flicker open, and he’s met with your smiling face. He looks around the large bedroom that you two share, remembers that life is so, so much different now, and exhales in relief. He sits up in the bed, and he looks over at the digital clock on the nightstand. “Oh, wow, it’s past noon?” 

“Well, yeah,” you say with a small, quiet laugh. “We all thought you should sleep in today.” Your hand finds his cheek again, and you lean in so you can kiss his forehead. “Happy birthday, Toru. I love you so much.” 

“Oh?” He looks at the clock again to check the date. Sure enough, it’s December 7th. 

However, the ache that he’s felt for most of his life wasn’t there. Since falling in love with you, it’s been replaced with a comforting, gentle warmth. For the last few years, he’s actually looked forward to his birthday, because it meant another year and more experiences with you and the family you two made together. More time, more love.

He smiles up at you and hugs you close to him so he can rest his head on your tummy, allowing you to rake your fingers through his snow-colored hair, which was messy from sleeping all morning. “Thank you, pretty girl. I love you, too.” 

Once he’s done brushing his teeth and washing his face, you appear in the bathroom door again. An adorable, yet frustrated whine from your side makes him look down, and you laugh, shifting your baby so she’s in front of you instead of resting on your hip. “Someone is a little upset that she didn’t get her morning cuddles from Daddy.”

Satoru chuckles at that, and he takes his daughter from you right as she starts reaching for him, her blue eyes light with adoration and excitement. “Aw, ‘m sorry, princess. I was sleepy.” He rains kisses on her chubby cheeks until she bursts with giggles, and Satoru can’t help but grin, gently stroking the girl’s hair—colored exactly like yours except for a few white strands. “How has your morning been, Riko? Hope you’ve been good to Mommy.” 

“She was whining for a while because she didn’t know where you were, but other than that, she was great.” 

He carries Riko and follows you out of your bedroom. Like every time he’s in the hallway, Satoru finds his favorite picture hanging on the wall. It was from the evening when Riko was born. Kento was kind enough to take a picture of you and Satoru holding her. The three teenagers you adopted, Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara, were surrounding the bed with teary eyes and happy smiles. 

Speaking of. 

“Hey, the house is as quiet as the day we moved in,” Satoru says. “Where’s our other three kids?” 

“Hm? Oh, they’re taking care of some things at the school right now,” you reply once you reach the living room where the first of many gift bags rested on the couch. You lift it up for him to see, and Satoru gasps excitedly. “Oooh, a present?!” 

“Duh, silly. It’s your birthday.” You trade him the present for Riko, and you point towards the notecard that was taped on the gift. “That’s a clue. When you’re done opening that, get dressed. You’re going to be going on a little scavenger hunt for the rest of your gifts.” 

“Oooh, interesting. Can I teleport?” 

You frown, and Riko cosigns with an adorable pout and whine. “Absolutely not. That takes the fun out of it.” 

Satoru scoffs with a roll of his eyes, but his smile doesn’t fade. He starts opening the present, and you sneakily open your messages to text one of your sons. 

You: We’re about to leave the house. It’s 1pm right now. Do you think you guys can be done by four? I’ll do everything I can to stall him.

Yuuji: 100%. We got this! :)

— — — 

“Alright, everyone!” Yuuji calls out to the rest of the group. “Mom just left the house with Dad. We only have about three hours to get everything there and set up! Everyone ready?” 

“All ready,” Yuuta replies as he places three more bags full of party supplies in the back of Kento’s car. “Ino is with Kugisaki and Inumaki right now. They’re at the bakery grabbing the cake.” 

“I bet you lunch tomorrow that someone here is eventually going to drop the cake.” Yuki chortles.

Maki snickers as she loads a box into the trunk, using her free hand to ruffle Yuuta’s hair when she passes him. “I agree with her. There’s always some type of tragedy when setting up surprise birthday parties.” 

“Ladies, please. Let’s not speak that into existence,” Choso says. “I heard that [Y/N] spent quite a bit of money on that cake.” 

Next to Yuuji, Megumi taps his shoulder to get his attention. “Do you think he used his Six Eyes to see the presents we hid in the library?” 

“Well, Mom said he woke up a bit late. He had to get ready before starting the scavenger hunt she set up, plus Riko’s an adorable distraction, so I doubt it.” 

Megumi nods, then peeks at his phone. “Okay, got Mom’s location. They’re about thirty minutes away from home. Now’s our chance.” 

“I’ll have Ichiji meet the students at the bakery once they’re ready,” Kento Nanami says, pulling his jacket on to fight the December chill. “I would hate for them to have to catch the subway back.” 

–

“Holy crap.” Takuma Ino’s surprised voice echoes throughout the living room where everyone else is setting up for the party. “This is where you guys live now? This place is huge!” 

“Yup!” Nobara answers as she takes off her shoes and places them next to the others near the door. “Amazing, right? I truly had no idea how much money Dad had until I saw this place. There’s rich, and then there’s stupid rich.” 

Megumi pauses filling up a balloon and turns towards her with a small, amused smile. “I thought you learned that when you spilled something on one of his shirts and nearly fainted when I told you how much it cost.” 

At the memory, Yuuji snickers. “Then we tried to shove it in your shirt to hide it.” 

Megumi rolls his eyes. “Like the idiots you two are.” 

“If anyone is used to how much Gojo likes to spend on clothes, it’s definitely Megumi,” Maki says as she tapes a blue tablecloth down on the table. 

“Yeah, he’s known him the longest. Has Gojo-sensei always lived here?” Yuuta asks. “I never heard him talk about a house this size.”

Megumi shakes his head. “He had no intention of living here. This place was a gift from the Gojo clan. He showed me once when I was nine, then never brought it up again. He had a small place near the school he stayed at.” 

“Then he fell in love?” Yuki asks with an excited grin. 

“Then he fell in love,” Ieiri Shoko replies. She smiles as she points at the portrait of you and Satoru on your wedding day hanging on the wall. “Moved here, adopted those three, then [Y/N] had Riko.” 

“Speaking of Riko, why couldn’t she be here?” Nobara asks with a small whine. “I was hoping to hold my baby sister while you all set up for the party.” 

Panda scoffs. “You could help, y’know.” 

“I did help! I went to go get the cake! Right, Toge?” 

Toge, who was helping Yuuta with some decorations, nods with a thumbs-up. “Salmon.” 

“Alright, guys, the table for the presents is all set up,” Maki says. “Leave your gifts here.” 

“I’ll go grab ours from the library!” Yuuji announces, then taps his older brother on the shoulder. “Could you give me a hand? There’s quite a few.” 

“Of course.” 

Choso follows Yuuji to the sunroom that you and Satoru turned into your at-home library. He finds the presents stashed in the corner behind one of the bookshelves, and starts to lift a few of them. 

“Wow,” Choso breathes out. “This is a lot of books.” 

“Yeah, Mom reads a lot. Her and Megumi spend a lot of time here,” Yuuji replies.

Choso helps by grabbing a stack of presents, and smiles at his words. “I’m glad to see how happy and comfortable you are here. All three of you.” 

“I still can’t believe it. Like, a part of me still thinks that this is a dream and I’m going to wake up back in the dorms, still attached to Sukuna.” 

When Choso’s smile falters, Yuuji changes the subject. “You should come over more often. I know you and Yuki are incredibly busy, but I still want to teach you how to play video games.” 

“I’ll make time. And I—” 

“OH, NO!!!” 

The loud chorus of fearful gasps and screams make Yuuji and Choso drop what’s in their arms, and they sprint down the long halls back to the living room. “What is it?!” Yuuji exclaims. 

Toge turns around with a gulp, then shakily points towards the ground. “Mustard leaf,” he whispers. Yuuji looks to where he’s pointing, then gasps in horror, nausea swimming in his gut.  

The cake is splattered across the floor. 

Ieiri releases a loud sigh to break the silence, and she drags her hand down her face. “And there’s our tragedy.” 

Megumi shakes his head. “I blame Maki and Yuki for speaking it into existence.”

“Well I blame Takuma for dropping the damn thing,” Maki snaps back.

“I said I was sorry!!” Takuma shouts, looking as nauseous as Yuuji felt.

“Oh, no. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no!” Yuuji’s heart pounds, and he yanks his phone out of his pocket to check the time. They only have about forty more minutes if they want to be done on time. What now? How can I fix this? 

“Okay, no one panic. That won’t get us anywhere.” Kento says. “First things first, let’s get this cleaned up. Itadori, call [Y/N] and let her know what happened.” 

“Yeah, he’s right. Besides, this isn’t the first time we had a cake dropped on someone’s birthday, remember?” Yuuta gently pats his shoulder. “It’ll be alright. We’ll clean up.”

Right, he needs to call you. As everyone else either helps clean the mess or continues setting up, Yuuji steps outside where it’s quieter. He waits for a couple of seconds, then presses the green button near your contact to call you. 

“Hey Yuuji, is everything alright?” You softly ask him once the line connects. 

He swallows hard. “Hi. Uh- Yeah, things are fine. How’s Dad doing?” 

“He’s currently showing Riko around the butterfly garden where we confessed that we loved each other for the first time. He’s having way more fun on this hunt than I anticipated. We might be about twenty minutes late. I figured it wouldn’t be too much of a problem, just in case you all needed more time.” 

“Well…” He mutters sadly. “We messed up the cake. I don’t know what to do. I can’t imagine throwing a birthday party and not having a cake.” 

“It’s okay. Are Yaga and Utahime there yet?” 

“No. They mentioned that they’d have to work late so they wouldn’t be able to help set up. They’ll be at the party, though.” 

“Good. Have either Kento or Ieiri call and ask them to stop by the bakery closer to our house. Yaga will know exactly what to get, okay?” 

The knot in Yuuji’s chest eases. “You had a back-up plan.”

You laugh at that. “If being a sorcerer and being in love with the one and only Satoru Gojo has taught me anything, it’s to always have a plan B, and sometimes a plan C. Everything’s going to be alright. I promise.” 

“I’m really sorry about the cake. I know you spent a lot on that. Gosh, I just really wanted everything to be perfect, and—” 

“Yuuji,” you sigh. “It will be perfect. He’ll be so excited that you even came up with this plan and brought everyone together for it. You tried your best, and no one got hurt. That’s more than enough. Yaga is going to pick up Satoru’s favorite treat, and we’ll put his candles with that. All of the guests will have the cake he brings. Don’t beat yourself up.” 

“Thanks, Mom.” 

“Of course, honey. Chin up, okay? Finish strong. I’m so proud of you for planning all of this. It wasn’t easy, but you did it. I’ll see you all soon.” 

“See you soon.” When Yuuji hangs up the phone, he’s overcome with a burst of determination. Finish strong. I can do this. He walks back into the house with his head held high.

– – – 

“Satoru, did you really have to buy her so many butterfly clips for her hair?” You ask as you hold up the souvenir bag from the butterfly garden. “Riko’s going to be wearing these for the rest of her life.” 

“Of course I did. Look how cute they are in her hair!” He lowers his head so he can talk to Riko, who’s safe in your arms. “Right, princess? Of course you need sixty butterfly clips. I would’ve gotten you a million of them if I could.” When the baby giggles in response, he kisses the top of her head. 

In his hands are all of the gifts he’s received throughout the day. Clothes, accessories, cologne, a new watch, and a detailed birthday card and love letter from you. Satoru spent the whole afternoon smiling that you’re certain that his face will be sore tomorrow morning. 

“This was so much fun, pretty girl,” he tells you as you approach the front door of the house. “Thank you. I’m so grateful for you.” He begins unlocking the door, and you struggle to contain your excited grin. This is it. 

“Still wondering what’s going on with Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara,” Satoru mumbles as he opens the door and switches on the light. “I really hope they didn’t take a mission today—” 

“SURPRISE!!!” 

Satoru stops in his tracks, and the shock is so great that he lifts his blindfold to take all of it in. His colleagues, his students, and his three teenagers are all here in the living, wearing blue party hats and using noise blowers. There’s balloons, a banner that reads, Happy birthday, Satoru, and a table full of presents and cakes. 

He looks over at you with wide eyes, then back at everyone else in the room. “A party?” He whispers. “Did you plan this?” 

You shake your head. “Actually, he did,” you say as you point at Yuuji, who was standing in the front with Nobara and Megumi. “I planned your scavenger hunt, and he planned your party.” 

“I hope you like it,” Yuuji says as he steps forward with his dessert, neatly topped with a few lit candles. “Happy birthday. Thanks for being so incredible. From stopping my execution all the way to adopting me, you really changed my life. You changed all of our lives.” 

Your heart swells at the scene, and the crowd ‘aww’s. Yuuji does a small countdown, and everyone starts singing happy birthday to him. Satoru thinks back to the child he was; how he watched from a distance as that boy in the park was surrounded by love, and how he yearned to be in his spot. Now, he is. 

Once they’re finished singing, Satoru reaches forward and hugs Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara all at once. “Thank you,” he whispers to them. “You all changed my life, too.” When he pulls away, he looks down at the still-lit candles, then glances at you. 

“Go on, love,” you tell him quietly, wiping away the happy tears that formed in the corner of your eyes. “Make a wish.” 

Satoru thinks about his past again, and how he spent all of his birthdays wishing to be somewhere else, something else, someone else. But as he looks at you and the daughter you blessed him with, the three kids he would choose in every lifetime, the students he cared so much about, and his colleagues from Jujutsu Tech that all came here for him, he desperately wanted to stay himself and stay where he is.

I wish for another safe year, full of love, he thinks to himself, then blows out the candles.

[secretl1fe0fm3]

maroon ~ billie eilish x fem!reader

“the burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me, and how the blood rushed into my cheeks so scarlet, it was maroon.”

warnings: smut, eating out, fingering, strap (r!receiving), dirty talk, dom!billie, sub!reader, alcohol consumption (both reader and billie are of age)

18+ minors dni!!!

2k words

(lmk if i should do a part two) ((im thinking about it))

Your head leans on the car window as you watch the lights from the city shimmer on the wet pavement, leaving a glow illuminating the streets. You sigh lightly as your phone lit up in your lap, glancing down you noticed your friend had texted you, asking if you were on your way yet. Typing away a quick response to confirm her question, you set your phone back down.

You were currently in the back of a cab, on the way to an event at a high end bar your friend had invited you to, as her plus one. She didn't really give you many details, other than the fact that it was formal. Per her request, you chose to wear a short tight white satin slip dress, adorned with lace trimming. You paired it with your favorite red heels, and gold accessories. It definitely wasn't an outfit in your comfort zone, but your friend had mentioned some celebrities had been invited. You wanted to look your best, not knowing who you could possibly run into.

As your car pulls up, nerves suddenly flood your head, unsure if this was truly a good idea or not. There were some photographers standing in front of the building, looking like they were waiting for someone specific to show. Glancing away from them, you look up and see your friend standing next to the doors, waving at you. A smile fell over your lips, relieved to see her waiting for your arrival. You step out of the car, thanking your driver briefly before walking over to her.

She squeals excitedly as she pulls you into a tight hug, "Its so good to see you!" You grin as you hugged her back, realizing how long it had been since you've seen her last.

"Thank you so much for inviting me, Ive never been to one of these private events before." You laugh out nervously, playing with the rings on your fingers. She smiles at you, laughing with you, noting your nerves.

"Of course! You're going to have so much fun, I promise you. Cmon, let's go inside." She grabs your hand, leading you inside. As soon as she opened the door, the deafening sound of music and loud conversations filled your ears. You followed closely behind her as she pulled you through the crowd, heading straight for the bar. She ordered the both of you a glass of red wine. As you waited with her, you glance around, noticing some familiar faces that you've seen before.

"Here you go!" Your friend hands you your glass, breaking you out of your daze. You take the glass from her, taking a sip quickly, hoping to gain some liquid courage soon. You felt out of place, not knowing what to do as you glance around, watching everyone converse.

She nudges you, and you focus your eyes back on hers. "Lets go sit somewhere and catch up, yeah?" Before you can even respond, she pulls you over to a dark lit booth in the corner of the room. You both sit down and continue to sip on your wine, sharing stories of childhood memories, and years of friendship.

An hour passes, and you and your friend are both flushed pink, now on your third glass of wine together. You continue to laugh obnoxiously with her, until you realize your glass is almost empty. Giggling, you excuse yourself, and grab your glass of wine, heading in the direction of the bar.

You look back at your friend and smile to yourself, not paying attention to where you're walking, immediately bumping into someone. Your feet falter as your wine glass gets pushed towards your chest, ultimately staining the upper half of your white dress a deep burgundy color. "Fuck-" You curse loudly, not realizing who you even ran into in the commotion. Glancing up, your green eyes meet ocean blue, the words dying on your tongue.

"Oh shit, Im sorry! I didn't even see you." The woman rushes out as you gape at her. You couldn't even begin to be convinced that Billie Eilish was standing in front of you, her eyes full of concern. "Oh my god, your dress, Im so sorry." Billie says apologetically as she grabs onto your arm gently.

Your cheeks flush a deep scarlet color, similar to the unfortunate color now adorning your white dress. You lose the ability to speak at first, unsure if your tipsy state is making you hallucinate. Her eyes stare into yours until you finally find the words.

"Its okay, I wasn't even paying attention to where I was going." You breathe out, reassuring her. Your heart rate seemed to be going a mile a minute. Looking down at your dress, you sigh softly to yourself, realizing the stain is worse than you thought. Billie's grip falls from your arm, noticing your disappointed expression. She continues to look at you, biting her lip, until a smile falls on her face.

"Here," She quickly shrugs off her suit jacket, holding it out to you. "Take this, please."

You hesitantly take the jacket out of her hands, staring at her with furrowed brows. "Are you sure? It's not that bad, really, I'll probably be leaving soon anyways."

Billie shakes her head, dismissing your comment. "It's the least I can do. Plus, I feel awful for ruining your pretty dress." She cracks a smile, her eyes glancing up and down your body quickly before returning to yours.

"Thank you." You smile back at her, your cheeks heating up again. You put her jacket on, making sure to cover the stain. Her grin gets impossibly bigger at the sight of you in her jacket.

"I'm Billie, by the way." She added quickly, and you let out a small laugh, exchanging your name with her as well. Billie grinned at you, her eyes studying you.

You didn't know why, but you felt nervous under her gaze. "Thank you again, I should really get going though." You rushed out, glancing back at your friend, then back at Billie. She takes note of your nervousness and smirks.

"Let me at least get you a new glass, yeah?" She offers, motioning towards your now empty glass. Your cheeks flush an even deeper color.

Nodding, you follow her as she makes her way towards the bar, ordering you a new glass of wine. You stand beside her, silently admiring her features. She’s wearing a white button down with a black tie, and baggy black jeans.

Before you know it, a new glass of wine is shoved into your hands. “Wanna go sit and chat for a bit?” She asked, grabbing herself a glass as well, looking you up and down.

You glance back at your friend, noticing she wasn’t in the booth anymore, not sure of where she went. Looking back at Billie, you nod. “Yeah sure, I’d love that.” Billie grins at your response and grabs onto your hand gently, pulling you towards a dimly lit corner.

“You look great in my jacket, by the way.” She added, as you both sat down at a small table. You sip on your wine, trying to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.” You joke, licking the wine off your lips, setting your glass down. Billie lets out a laugh, her eyes twinkling in the soft ambient lighting.

“And would that be a bad thing?” Billie questions, sitting back in her chair. Her legs spreading slightly, eyes flicking up to yours then down to your lips.

The familiar shade of crimson spreads across your face. You couldn’t tell if it was your lowered inhibitions from the wine, but the way she was holding your gaze made a heat start to form in your lower stomach. Biting your lip, you down the rest of your wine. As you finish, you noticed shes only taken a few sips of hers. Her eyes are still trained on you, watching you intently.

You both continue to stare at each other, your eyes speaking what you are too afraid to say. She takes notice and smirks. “Let’s get out of here, yeah? You can come back to mine?” She reaches out for your hand, rubbing small circles on it with her thumb. You nod quickly, biting your lip even harder.

She smiles at your swift agreement, standing up with you. Billie wraps her arm around your back, her hand landing on your waist, guiding you out of the bar. You both exit through the back door, and get into her car quickly, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention.

Sitting in her passenger seat, you shoot your friend a quick text, thanking her for inviting you. Deciding to make an excuse, you add on that you decided to uber home because you didn’t feel well. Setting your phone down, you glance over at Billie. She smiles at you and pulls out of the dimly lit parking lot, resting her hand on your thigh.

The drive seemed much longer than it actually was. The warmth between your legs spread as she gripped onto your thigh, her rings shining under the street lamps. You needed her now, and you couldn’t deny it any longer.

She pulls up to her house, putting her car in park. You both stepped out and walked up to her front door. You gripped onto her arm as she turned the key to unlock it, pushing open the door. She stepped in, opening the door for you.

Before you could process her locking the door, she pushed you gently up against the wall, her breath slightly ragged.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” Billie whispers, her eyes falling onto your lips, closing the gap between your bodies. Her lips crash into yours, kissing you with pure desperation and fever. Your lips mold with hers, hands falling onto her shoulders, pulling her closer.

You can feel her knee move in between your legs, her hands roaming your body. You throw your head back and whine at the sudden sensation, grinding down on her leg softly.

“Fuck, thats it baby, use me to get off, yeah?” She grunts out, her lips moving to your exposed neck, sucking and biting gently.

Letting out an even louder whine than before, you continue to move your hips against her leg. “Billie, please..” You whimper out as her mouth attacks your neck.

She pulls away momentarily, grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you towards her room. You stumble after her, grinning and biting your lip. Excited to finally be getting what you secretly wanted the whole night.

You both make your way into her room, shutting the door behind yourselves. Billie locks it, walking back over to you. “This is okay with you, right?” She breathes out, her lips red and wet, walking you closer to her bed. The back of your knees hit the bed and you sit down, staring up at her with big eyes.

You grab onto her tie, pulling her body onto yours. “Please..” You plead softly, nodding, as she crawls on top of you. That was the green light she had been waiting for.

Smirking, she trailed kisses down your chest. Her hands roamed under your dress, pushing it up to expose your red lace thong. She grinned as she noticed the wet spot on your underwear.

“That affected by me, huh? You’re so wet for me baby. Such a good girl.” She praises you, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss right below your belly button. Her hands grazing against your wet heat.

You buck your hips up at the minimal contact, throwing your head back against her bed. She pushes your hips back down against the bed, slowly pulling your underwear down and off. Billie tosses them to the side and climbs off of you briefly, undressing everything but her button up and tie. She helps you out of her jacket and your dress, admiring your naked body. Her pupils blown wide.

You sit up slightly, resting back on your elbows, watching her. She moves to her dresser, opening the drawer. You watch her as she pulls out a purple strap, your legs instinctively clenching together.

Billie makes her way back over to the bed, “Want me to fuck you pretty girl? Hm?”

You nod absentmindedly, the heat in your stomach growing even more. Billie grabs onto your hips, pulling you closer to her. She leans down and attaches her lips onto your clit, sucking. You let out a loud moan, gripping onto her sheets.

She continues to suck and lap at your wet heat, burying her face into your cunt. She brought up a finger, slowly circling the tight muscle.

“God, you’re so fucking tight.” Billie mumbles against you, her finger sliding in next to her tongue. You gasp out, your back arching off the bed.

She adds another finger as she feels you relax around her first one, pumping in and out at a steady pace. Her eyes watching you as you writhe in pleasure.

“Look at me.” She curls her fingers perfectly, hitting your sweet spot. Your eyes flutter shut before opening again, looking down at her.

“Good girl.” Billie praises as your eyes meet hers. She pulls her fingers out slowly, spreading your wetness onto her strap. Climbing on top of you, she positions herself at your entrance.

You bite your lip, moaning softly, “Please fuck me Billie, I need you so bad.” You grab onto her tie again, wrapping it around your hand, pulling her impossibly close.

She smirks, “Whatever you want, pretty girl.” She thrusts forward, her strap entering you in one quick motion. You let out an obscenely loud whine, yanking on her tie.

She fucks into you fast, watching your face as you throw your head back in pleasure again. “Taking me so fucking well baby.” She whispers out, as her free hand finds your clit, rubbing small, fast circles.

You moan loudly, feeling her strap hit all the right places. Her thrusts never falter, continuously fucking into you. Your eyes squeeze shut, overwhelmed with pure lust and pleasure.

“Fuck, feels so g-good..” You stutter out, unable to form a coherent sentence. She grins down at you, her thrusts getting even quicker.

“Open your mouth.” Billie demanded, and you instinctively opened your mouth. She smirked at your obedience, spitting directly onto your tongue. Her hand left your clit, moving her fingers towards your mouth, pushing her pointer finger inside against your tongue.

“Next time, you’re gonna use this pretty mouth to eat me out, yeah?” She continues to thrust in and out of your cunt at a rapid pace. Her breathing was heavy, quiet grunts falling off her lips. You nodded, sucking on her finger gently, swallowing around it. You felt a heat building up inside you, your own climax quickly approaching.

Her hips faltered slightly, the strap rubbing up against her own clit with each thrust. Gripping onto her tie still, you let out a loud moan, “Fuck, Im gonna come.” You mumble out around her finger.

“Thats it, come for me, come all over my dick baby.” She begs breathlessly. You let out a final high pitched whine as your back arches off the bed. You clench down around her, gasping out as you ride out your orgasm.

Billie watches you come undone underneath her, her own orgasm washing over her quickly. She grunts out as she grips onto your hips, slowing down her thrusts.

You both pant together as you lay there, her strap still inside of you. She falls on top of your body gently, looking into your eyes. Billie smiles down at you, a blissed out expression on her face. A blush creeps onto your cheeks again, the dark maroon color returning for the final time that evening.

my masterlist

requests are open! <3

[breathinlove]

sticky fingers ellie williams

read this

synopsis: you and your best friend got popsicles on a hot day, but ellie finishes hers first.

cw: swearing, dialogue heavy at first, homoerotic friendship i fear, hinted themes, dirty minded hoes who act oblivious, a whole lotta mouth and tongue but no nothang but slighhhhhttttlyyy nsfw.

a/n: idk what this is it just came to me as i had a popsicle in the morning lmao... i js missed writing.

you're walking home with one of best friends, ellie, after a day at the park. it was a boring and oppressively hot day. you had bought yourselves ice lollies to help survive the sultry weather.

"is it good?" ellie speaks, pointing to your yellow popsicle.

"yeah, ellie, it's good." you say, matter-of-factly.

"i love pineapple." she looks away from you as you come closer to the crossing, both you looking to the sides of the road in sync.

“i know, me too." you reply shortly, not giving her the time of day, rapidly crossing the street. ellie stays silent, but not for too long.

"well..." she mutters when she catches your trail.

"yes?" you know what she wants but you still play dumb. you're not gonna give it to her.

“just a taste—" she starts whining, and you cut her off.

“nope." that's all you say in response.

you turn the stick horizontally as you get to the middle of the ice lolly, you suck on it and she's snorts heavily. she seems to drag her feet along the sidewalk.

“please, it's so hot out here.” ellie insists on the subject.

"it’s not my fault you fucking gobbled yours." you giggle, flicking her forehead.

she lets out a cartoon-like ‘ouch’ and she pushes your arm.

"bruh, it was small." ellie complains before wiping sweat off her nape, where strands of hair stuck onto.

“doooon't caaaare.” you smirk.

you bite the ice off the stick and she looks like she's mourning its loss. ellie loves pineapple artificial flavoring, despite choosing not to eat too much actual pineapple because when you two ate a bunch of pineapple slices together, you ended up with prickled tongues and mouth ulcers. it wasn't fun.

you can read her expression well enough to let out a chuckle, almost choking on the juice that pools inside your mouth. she clicks her tongue at the sound of slurping coming from you, she focuses on the noise of lawn mowers on your neighborhood instead, but they're just as annoying.

"ellie." you mutter with a heavy breath, she can hear what remains on your tongue moving. she hums in response.

you know ellie's annoyed. you were friends, but you were afraid that you had spoiled her. whenever you denied her anything, she'd catch an attitude. and you liked teasing her. you thought she looked cute when she'd look away from you with a serious face over something so small as a popsicle.

“lukami.” you say, he contorts her face in confusion, and you slurp at the juices to clear your words.

“look at me." you repeat, now coherently, grabbing her cheeks.

“yeah? what do you want?" she looks at you, and you take a disgustingly loud and final slurp.

ellie knows the pineapple stick is gone now, and she didn't even get to taste it. she pictured herself tasting it off your lips, or even your tongue. she wondered if she'd able to feel the refreshment if she sucked on your tongue after all the sucking you did on that popsicle.

“guess what?” you smile, she takes a little too long to answer and you wonder what goes through her mind.

but well, she's nasty, isn't she? she wanted it, no matter if it meant licking around one of her best friend's mouth. she's upset, but she knows it's silly.

“what?” she shrugs.

"i have popsicles at home.” you say excitedly and you look giddy, your sugary fingers still on her face.

“whatever," she looked away, forcing away from your hold. "get those sticky fingers away from me."

"that's a great album, by the way." you ignore her demand, chuckling.

you mess with her cheeks, smearing her with the syrup on your hand. you left a spot on her lips, she licked it. finally, she knows what it tasted like and she yearns for more.

“you're so messy, ya know?" she smiles wide.

you look at your hand as she grabs and holds it where it was, against her lips. you stop on your tracks completely, feeling her tongue stick out of her lips and coming in contact with the pad of your fingers, it tickles. you giggle.

she hums at the sweetness of it and looks up at you from your fingers, what a kid!

"ellie, please, what's wrong with you?" you laugh, and she does too. sugar puts her in a good mood.

“should've just let me taste it.” she speaks.

you would've thought she was done but ellie takes your index finger inside her mouth for shits and giggles, her warm as the day tongue massaging your finger as she sucks on it.

“you're so stupid.” you say, using minimal to no strength to push her face with the hand she entrapped. she smiles around your finger.

you feel the desire to slide your finger further into her mouth to wipe that shit-eating grin of her face. you imagined how ellie would look when she gagged on it, the shock in her eyes would be amusing, you assume. these thoughts run around your mind.

you think she might have an oral fixation by the looks of it,you look around, making sure no one was watching this seemingly obscenity.

"god, ellie.." you sigh in defeat when she flutters her eyes shut. you watch, mind running around her soft features and braking on her pursed lips, tainted red from her late watermelon popsicle.

then she releases your finger, after god knows how long (now that your fingerprint is practically part of her tongue’s muscle memory). you snap back to reality, freshly cut grass smell hitting your nose and unbearable sun hitting your skin.

ellie looks proud of herself.

"it really was good. what flavors you got at home?" she asks and starts walking again. you clean your now spit dirty fingers on your shirt and walk with her, enumerating the flavors of popsicles your dad had bought and stacked in the freezer.

[moonlinos]

Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back. 

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday. 

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

[pucksandpower]

Ruin the Friendship

Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader

Summary: you and Max refuse to confess your feelings for each other in fear of ruining your friendship. Naturally, Max chooses to ruin every date with another man you go on instead

You can’t remember a time when Max Verstappen wasn’t your best friend.

The two of you grew up together, playing in the streets of Hasselt since before you could walk. Your parents joke that you learned to crawl just so you could keep up with him.

As you got older, your friendship only grew stronger. You were inseparable, there for each other through all the ups and downs of childhood and adolescence. When Max’s karting career took off, you were his biggest supporter, traveling all over Europe on weekends whenever you could to cheer him on at races.

After he moved to Monaco when he joined Red Bull, Max begged you to come with him. “I can’t do this without my best friend by my side,” he said. You didn’t hesitate — there was nowhere you would rather be than with Max.

Now you live together in his apartment in Monte Carlo. Mornings are spent on his balcony overlooking the glistening Mediterranean, drinking coffee and chatting about everything and nothing. Evenings are filled with video games, movies, and dreams of the future.

You know everything about each other, from favorite foods to secret fears. You trust Max more than anyone else in the world. He’s your person, the other half of your soul. Sometimes you think you love him as more than a friend, but you’d never risk what you have. If you lost Max, you’d lose yourself.

Today is like any other day. Max is sitting next to you on the couch, focused intently on crushing you in Mario Kart. You’re trying your best, but he’s just too good.

“Yes!” Max pumps his fist in the air as he wins yet again. “Too easy!”

You roll your eyes and shove him playfully. “Whatever, I let you win.”

He laughs. “Sure you did.” His smile makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to suggest another round when Max’s phone rings. He grabs it off the coffee table. “It’s Christian,” he says. “Probably wants to go over strategy for the race this weekend. I better take this.”

“No problem.” You stretch your arms over your head. “I’ll make us some lunch while you talk to him.”

Max answers the call as he makes his way out to the balcony. Through the glass door you see him pacing, one hand waving animatedly as he talks. You smile and head to the kitchen.

As you rummage through the fridge, you think about the race this weekend. You couldn’t be more proud of Max and everything he’s accomplished. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t worry every time he got into that car. Still, you know racing makes him happier than anything else in the world. And his happiness is what matters most to you.

You find the ingredients for Max’s favorite sandwich — nutella and banana. As you start spreading nutella on slices of bread, you hear Max call your name from the next room.

“Y/N! Come here, I need your opinion on something!”

You poke your head out of the kitchen. “Can it wait? I’m making lunch!”

“No, it’s urgent! Just come here!” He’s smiling like he has a secret.

You laugh, wiping your nutella-covered hands on a towel. “Alright, I’m coming!”

You make your way out to the balcony, wondering what Max wants your opinion on. With him, it could be anything.

“Ok, what’s up?” You ask.

Max grins and takes your hand, his eyes twinkling. “How would you feel about being my date to the FIA Gala this year?”

You stare at Max, stunned. “Your … your date? To the FIA Gala?”

He nods, still grinning. “Yeah! It’s next month in Baku. I could really use my best friend by my side for moral support on the big Red Carpet.”

Your mind is reeling. The FIA Gala is the biggest formal event of the Formula 1 season. All the top drivers and teams come dressed to the nines to celebrate the end of the championship. Rumors always swirl about who will bring the hottest date.

And Max wants you to be his.

“Are … are you sure?” You stammer. “Wouldn’t you rather bring a model or something?”

Max scoffs. “Please. You know I hate those stuffy events. But with you there cracking jokes and making fun of everybody with me, it might actually be fun for once!”

You can’t help but smile at the thought of being on Max’s arm. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?”

“Yes!” Max pumps his fist. “This is going to be epic. I’ll have my team sort all the details. All you have to do is show up looking gorgeous.” He winks.

You blush slightly. “I think I can manage that.”

Over the next few weeks, Max’s stylist comes by the apartment for dress fittings. You settle on a couture emerald gown with a daring slit up the leg. The perfect blend of classy and sexy.

Max lets out a low whistle when you emerge from your suite the night of the gala. “You look incredible,” he says, staring at you in awe.

You smooth down the front of your dress self-consciously. “So do you.” Max cuts a sharp figure in his black tuxedo.

He offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

Your stomach flutters as you take it. You still can’t believe you’re Max’s date tonight. Part of you wishes it were real instead of just for show.

As predicted, jaws drop when you walk the red carpet on Max’s arm. Cameras flash furiously around you.

“They’re gonna think you’re my new girlfriend,” Max murmurs in your ear.

You laugh. “Let them think what they want.” But secretly, you wish the rumors were true.

The night flies by in a blur of champagne, dancing, and laughter. You and Max stay by each other’s side the whole time, laughing and judging everyone’s outfits. It’s the most fun you’ve had in ages.

On the ride back to the hotel, Max rests his head on your shoulder. “Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You kiss the top of his head. “That’s what best friends are for.”

But as you fall asleep that night, you can’t help but wonder if Max will ever see you as more than just his best friend.

***

Not long after coming back home, you’re getting ready for your first date since the FIA Gala. After seeing you all dressed up with Max, your friend Julian finally got the nerve to ask you out. You said yes, partly to stop constantly pining for Max.

You’re meeting Julian for dinner at a nice restaurant downtown. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, Max lounges on your bed.

“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Julian,” Max says, scowling. “That guy is so boring.”

You toss a pillow at him. “Stop it, he’s cute! I think it’ll be fun.”

Max catches the pillow and frowns. “What if I took you somewhere way better tonight instead?”

You pause your makeup application. “Wait, like a date?”

“What? No!” Max avoids your eyes. “Just as friends.”

You feel a twinge of disappointment. “Oh. Well, I already made plans with Julian.”

“Fine, go on your lame date,” Max grumbles. “But when Julian puts you to sleep talking about accounting, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You finish getting ready then head out to meet Julian. He greets you with a bouquet of flowers. “You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thanks!” You reply. The date starts off nicely. Julian is a perfect gentleman over dinner. But as the conversation wears on, you find yourself growing bored. Max was right, Julian is really dull.

Suddenly, you get a text from Max.

SOS come quick! Emergency at the apartment!

You frown, instantly worried. “Sorry Julian, I have to go. My roommate needs me.”

Julian looks disappointed but nods in understanding. “No problem. I’ll walk you out.”

You hurry home, anxious to make sure Max is okay. You burst through the apartment door. “Max! What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Max looks up casually from the couch. “Oh hey Y/N. What’s up?”

“What’s up? You texted me that there was an emergency!”

“Oh yeah, we ran out of gummy bears,” he says, waving an empty bag. “I was hungry.”

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious, Max? I was on my date!”

Max grins. “Oops, my bad! But I saved you from dying of boredom with that guy. How about we order a pizza instead?”

You want to be mad at him for ruining your date. But looking at his smiling face, you can’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible,” you say, plopping down next to him.

Max just winks and hands you a controller. “Now come on, let’s see if you can actually beat me in Mario Kart this time.”

And just like that, you forget all about Julian and your ruined date. Nothing is nearly as fun as spending time with your best friend.

***

A few days later, you’re getting ready for another date, this time with a guy named Levi who you met online. He’s gorgeous with tattoos and an edgy style, totally your type.

When you tell Max about the date over breakfast, he nearly chokes on his eggs. “You can’t be serious. That dude looks like a complete tool.”

You roll your eyes as you grab your purse. “Don’t pretend you know anything about him. I think he’s hot and he seems cool.”

Max crosses his arms. “Well I don’t like it. How do you know this guy isn’t a total creep?”

“I appreciate your concern,” you say, “But I’m a big girl. I can handle myself on a date.”

Max opens his mouth to retort but you hold up a hand. “Nope, I don’t want to hear it! I’m running late as it is.” You give Max a quick hug. “Don’t wait up!”

You meet Levi at a trendy speakeasy bar downtown. He looks even hotter than his Tinder pics, with arm tattoos peeking out from under his leather jacket.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says with a crooked smile. He leans in for a lingering kiss on your cheek.

You blush. “Hi yourself.” Maybe Max was wrong about this guy.

You have a great time with Levi. The drinks are strong and the conversation is easy. After a few hours, Levi asks if you want to get out of there.

“I’d love to see your apartment,” you say with a flirtatious glance.

Levi grins. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

He pays the tab and you start walking to his place. As you turn a corner, you run straight into someone, nearly falling over.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorr-Max? What are you doing here?”

Max steadies you with his hands. “Y/N! Fancy running into you!”

You stare at Max in disbelief. “Did you follow me?”

Max avoids your gaze. “What? No, of course not. I was just in the neighborhood.”

You cross your arms. “I find that hard to believe.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Levi pipes up from behind you. “Uh, do you two know each other?”

“Unfortunately yes,” you reply tightly, not taking your eyes off Max.

Max finally meets your stare, his jaw clenched. “I was worried about you, okay? This guy looks like bad news.”

You scowl at him. “That’s not your call to make. I’m allowed to go on dates without you ruining them.”

Max’s shoulders slump. “I know, I’m sorry. I just care about you and want you to be safe.” He glances at Levi again uncertainly.

You soften a bit, seeing the genuine concern in Max’s eyes. You put a hand on his arm. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’ll be okay. See you at home later.”

You turn to Levi, who looks understandably confused. You loop your arm through his. “Shall we keep going?”

But as you walk away, the playful mood from earlier is gone. Levi tries to make conversation, but you’re preoccupied thinking about Max and the sad look on his face.

Levi invites you up to his apartment still, but your heart’s not in it anymore. You make an excuse and head home, feelings conflicted.

Max is on the couch when you storm in. “Hey! How was the date?”

You don’t answer, just grab a pillow and start smacking him with it.

“Ow!” Max holds up his hands, laughing. “What was that for?”

“You know exactly what it was for, you sneaky jerk! Sabotaging my date again.”

Max grins up at you impishly. “Maybe I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

You keep hitting him with the pillow, but end up collapsing on the couch next to him, both of you breathless with laughter.

“You’re the worst,” you say between giggles.

Max drapes his arm around your shoulders. “Yeah but admit it, you love me anyway.”

You sigh and nestle against him. “Unfortunately yes, I do.”

And you know that no matter how many dates Max sabotages, he’ll always be your number one.

***

After the last two disastrous dates, you decide to take a break from dating for a while. But your coworker Jess convinces you to give it one more shot with a guy named Liam she met at her gym. Reluctantly, you agree to meet up with him.

The day of the date arrives and you get ready halfheartedly, already anticipating Max’s attempts to sabotage it. Speaking of Max, you realize you haven’t seen him all day, which is odd.

You find a note on the kitchen counter:

Had to fly to Milton Keynes last minute for work. Will be gone all weekend. Have fun on your date.

<3 Max

You’re surprised but also a bit disappointed. While his meddling is annoying, you’re so used to Max being a constant presence in your dating life. It will feel weird doing this without him.

You push that thought aside as you head out to meet Liam at a burger place. When you arrive, you’re pleasantly surprised. Liam is handsome, charming, and easy to talk to.

After lunch, you go on a walk through a nearby park. You’re having such a nice time, you don’t even think about Max. At the end of the date, Liam asks to see you again.

“I’d love to,” you say with a smile. Liam leans in for a sweet goodbye kiss.

As you turn to go, you hear a familiar voice yelling your name. “Y/N! There you are!”

You whirl around to see Max jogging towards you, slightly out of breath.

“Max? What are you doing here? I thought you had that work thing.”

Max shrugs nonchalantly. “Oh, it got canceled last minute.”

Liam looks between you two, confused. “Wait, is this the dude you live with?”

Before you can respond, Max strides up and vigorously shakes Liam’s hand. “Max Verstappen, nice to meet you! I’m Y/N’s … boyfriend.”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head. “My WHAT?”

“Yeah babe, your boyfriend,” Max says, draping an arm around you. “Sorry I couldn’t make our date today, got held up at work. But who’s this guy you’re with?”

Liam stares wide-eyed at Max’s arm around you. “Uh, I should get going. See you around, Y/N.” He scurries off.

You shove Max away from you, fuming. “What the hell was that? Why did you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Max shoves his hands in his pockets sheepishly. “I just couldn’t stand the idea of you dating that dude.”

“So you LIED? You scared him off forever!” You poke Max’s chest angrily.

He grabs your hand. “I’m sorry! I don’t know why I did that. I was jealous and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

You search his face and see real remorse in his eyes. Your anger starts to fade.

“Jealous? Why would you be jealous, Max?” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

He takes a shaky breath. “Because the truth is, I’m in love with you. As more than a friend. I have been for a long time. Seeing you with those other guys made me realize I couldn’t stand not being with you myself.”

You stand frozen, stunned into silence. Max rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Please say something.”

You finally find your voice again. “Took you long enough, idiot.”

And you grab his shirt and kiss him deeply. Max grins against your lips, wrapping you in his arms.

“No more sabotaging my dates,” you murmur.

“Deal,” Max whispers. “As long as I can be your one and only from now on.”

You answer by kissing him again under the setting sun. At long last, you finally have your dream guy.

***

The next morning, you wake up in Max’s arms, still unable to believe the incredible turn your relationship has taken. Last night after the park, you came home and talked for hours, admitting your true feelings while cuddled up on the couch. You kissed and kissed until you both finally fell asleep tangled together.

Now in the light of day, your worries start to creep in. What if this ruins your friendship? What if you’re not meant to be more than best friends?

You untangle yourself from Max’s embrace and go to make coffee. He finds you a few minutes later on the balcony overlooking the sea.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Max says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He kisses your shoulder.

You turn in his arms to face him. “Can we talk about this?”

He frowns slightly. “Talk about what?”

You gesture between the two of you. “This new aspect of our relationship. I’m just worried it will mess things up. Maybe we should take a step back and think things through?”

Max’s face falls. “You’re having second thoughts?”

“No, not second thoughts exactly. I care about you so much Max, as my best friend. I don’t want to ruin that.”

Max caresses your cheek. “You could never ruin our friendship. It means everything to me too. But we both deserve to be happy, and I know we can make each other happy in this new way as well. I’m willing to take that chance if you are.”

You search his earnest eyes. He’s right — your connection runs so much deeper than just friendship. And you trust Max. If anyone is worth taking this risk for, it’s him.

You take his hand and intertwine your fingers. “You’re right. I want to make this work.”

Relief washes over Max’s face. He leans in and kisses you softly. “I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll be the best boyfriend ever!”

You laugh. “Well in that case, take me on our first official date tonight!”

“It would be my pleasure.” Max strokes your hair. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. On us. I know we’re meant to be, schatje. I’ve loved you all my life.”

“I’ve loved you all my life too,” you whisper. And you know that no matter what happens, your bond with Max will never break.

The future has yet to be written, but you’re ready to face it hand-in-hand with the man who has always had your heart.

[heaven4lostgirls]

hi!! i was curious if you would write something that starts out with barty x reader and evan is just friends with both of them before feeling like he’s impeding on their relationship (a little bit angsty if you’re comfortable with that) but barty and reader tell him that he’s not impeding at all and they’re actually very interested in him joining their relationship (totes no worries if not!!)

pairing: poly!rosekiller x reader

summary: request above!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: thank you for your your request, this somehow came much easier to me than i thought it would? (i’m blaming the fact that they have been consuming my every thought since last week) not proofread btw

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

evan’s not sure when it started, when it started feeling less like evan hanging out with two of his close friends and more like evan third wheeling two of his closest friends.

he dislikes it, the change. it makes him feel silly, why does he want to spend this much time with two people who obviously have no obligation to him outside of friendship? (and why does he wish that would change?)

he watches you and barty stroll ahead of him in the streets of hogsmeade, inhibiting himself from increasing his walking speed to catch up to the two of you, to join in the boisterous laughter that you two share.

instead, he lets himself watch longingly of what he so wishes was his future. his eyes travel along the landscape of the small town, always finding his eyes making their way back to your shared figures ahead of him.

your hair catching the orange glare of the setting sun, comparable in brightness to the smile on barty’s face as he listens to you babble nonsensically about a novel you had been reading.

evan allows himself only a single moment to mourn, mourn a love he had never really had in the first place, but nonetheless mourn the loss.

he knew he could never tell either of you of his feelings, he had watched the both of you fall in love, the shared glances, lingering touches and lovesick gazes.

all of which he longed to experience yet knew that neither of you would ever reciprocate his feelings. so he tortured himself in spending his free time with you both, to limit suspicion, but ever so slightly, pulling away, tending to walk behind the both of you, instead of with, sitting behind the two of you in class but always paired with another classmate for projects. studying with the two of you in the library, but always leaving early with one or more excuses.

barty and you had noticed, of course you had, but chalked it up to evan only adjusting to the shift in dynamic between your trio. you both missed him dearly but never asked for him to stay in fear of pushing him further away.

and thus, in a viscious cycle, the three of you drifted further apart than ever before, each party too afraid of admitting that they missed the other and impeaching on unconscious boundaries.

however, as you and barty walk down hogsmeade, evan trailing behind the two of you like a glorified guard dog rather than your best friend, you murmur to your lover, “we need to talk to him” with a sad look.

barty turns to you with furrowed eyebrows, “what if he doesn’t want to talk?” he says and you can’t help but turn and pitifully look back at evan’s bored yet slightly sad expression.

“we have to try, i-we can’t lose him” you emphasize and barty nods in understanding before placing a hand on your cheek.

“we’ll talk with him when we reach the castle, okay angel?” he says with a soft murmur, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. you hum in acknowledgement before closing your eyes.

evan’s heart clenches at the sight of the two of you, so perfectly fit together, how could he ever compete? not that he wanted to, but he knew deep down that he would never be what either of you wanted nor needed and it was better to cut his losses than to have his heart broken unexpectedly.

as you reach the castle, you all make your way to the slytherin common room and up to barty and evan’s shared dorm. evan is about to make an excuse about studying in the library to avoid being alone with you two but before he can make his escape, your voice breaks the silence in the empty dorm.

“evan.” your tone is soft and calming, yet evan’s heart drops to his stomach, clenching painfully as he closes his eyes in an “oh fuck” moment.

he turns to you with a fake smile, beckoning you to continue, hoping whatever you’re going to say, it isn’t what he thinks it is.

“what’s going on?” so it’s exactly what he thinks it is, he doesn’t have to play into this, he doesn’t have to give you the answers you seek- “what’s what?” he asks as he shrugs, faking nonchalance at the situation.

you and barty share a look that has evan clenching his jaw, “you’re pulling away from us!” you accuse him. the silence that follows is defeaning, the only sound is evan’s sharp intake of breath.

“we don’t have to talk about this-“ evan says quickly as he looks alarmed at the both of you before barty scoffs.

“yes we fucking do” and there’s a ‘don’t argue with me’ tone in his voice. evan only avoids his gaze as he looks at his shoes and shrugs once again.

“it doesn’t matter-“ he says again with an avoidant tone, barty only growls in annoyance. “yes it fucking does evan! we miss you!” barty states loudly and evan can’t help but flinch as he meekly looks up and meets barty’s gaze.

you clench your jaw in hope that it stops the tears from welling in your eyes. “did we do something? to-make you uncomfortable?” your voice breaks midway and evan’s wide eyed gaze jumps to yours in alarm and worry at the tears in your eyes.

“no!-no.” he shakes his head with wide eyes, “fuck.” he says as he looks down again and blows out a breath as he rakes a hand through his messy blonde hair.

“it’s just-“ he blows out a frustrated breath. “i can’t do this” he shakes his head as his voice wobbles, you look at barty whose gaze is swimming in worry.

“evan” barty starts softly, in the same tone he uses just for you, evan flinches as he hears it and shakes his head again, this time more frantically as he pulls at his roots.

he looks at barty in an almost manic movement, looking comparably to a rabid animal backed into a corner. “don’t-“ he starts as he chokes up, “don’t use that fucking tone” he says as he wraps his arms around himself. “not-not when you use it with her, not when i know it doesn’t mean the same as thing” he stammers out as he backs himself more into the wall.

“evan” barty’s eyes soften and you look at him again before deciding to walk closer to evan, “is that what this is about?” you ask softly, your heart clenching as he withdraws from you further, not letting you come any further towards him.

“what else could it possibly be about!” he cries out and looks at the two of you, gaze jumping from both of your figures as tears fall steadily past his pale cheeks.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did-”

“evan..”

“-and i tried to pull away but it just kept getting worse and you guys started noticing but didn’t say anything-”

“evan.”

“-i was trying to get over it, it was only a small crush! i would have never broken that boundary between the two of you-”

“EVAN!” the yell breaks evan out of his rambling as he looks at barty in shock.

“why didn’t you tell us?” you ask softly as your lip wobbles, your arms finding their way around your midsection in an attempt to self soothe your anxiety.

“tell you?!” evan cries incredulously as if the idea was implausible. “yes” barty says stiffly. “because you two are together?! and you don’t feel the same! which is understandable because i’m not really anything you should want but!-”

“who said we didn’t like you?” barty asks sternly and evan’s almost ramble is cut short as he looks at barty dumbfounded before turning his gaze to look at you as if to ask ‘did you just hear what your boyfriend just said or am i going insane?’ to which you look pointedly at him.

“well?” you prompt with a quirked brow, still somewhat shaking from the fear bubbling under your skin.

“well- i mean- nobody? but it’s implied when two people are in a committed relationship that they’re not really on the market anymore-“ evan starts before you butt in,“we’re not.”

you say helpfully before evan nods in acquiescence, “see!-so you would never-!”

“that doesn’t include you love” barty says with a huff, but you can tell by his voice there’s a small smile on his face as he watches evan struggle to come to terms with what your boyfriend is saying.

“you-? you two- want me?!” he asks, eyes widening and posture tensing. barty and you turn to each other with shared smiles before you turn to evan with a small shrug with a grin blooming over your face, “always have” you admit shyly and watch as evan blanches.

“uh-“ evan looks between the two of you, speechless.

“i’m going to walk up to you now love, i’d appreciate it if you’d let me hug you love, because if you don’t it might just break my heart” barty jokes with smirk before taking slow and cautious steps towards evan’s figure in the corner of the dorm.

evan allows himself to be comforted by the familiarity of barty’s arms around him, he melts into the hug as he exhales a breath of relief. he opens his eyes to meet your gaze behind barty’s back as you watch the two of them with a gentle smile on your face.

evan taps barty’s shoulder in a gentle touch to ask if he can let him go, barty pulls away slowly before looking into evan’s gaze, “i’m not good with communicating what i want, for that i’m sorry, but as far as i’ve been concerned, you’ve been mine since fourth year.” barty admits with heat in his gaze and evan’s mouth drops open as the other boy pulls away nonchalantly and walks back over to his bed on the other side of the dorm.

“you like me” evan states dumbly as he looks at you and you can’t help but have a small laugh at his expense before walking over to him in less cautious steps in comparison to barty, “seems so” you murmur as you stand in front of him with a small smile, letting him have the freedom to make the first move, should he choose to.

he blows out a breath before nodding and placing a hand on your cheek as he gazes into your eyes with adoration, leaning down and pressing his forehead to yours. he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply before you’re pulled into a comforting embrace. you slowly wrap your arms around his waist.

you both stand in a comfortable silence before barty’s voice breaks the silence, “can you two come and do that on the bed before i go and complain to regulus about being neglected?” he complains from the middle of his bed.

you two pull away and share a humorous glance before you walk hand in hand to his bed.

[toournextadventure]

a cold reunion

Summary: Astrid hasn't visited her mother's old house in a while. She wonders if someone new has moved in by now. Maybe it'll be a "ghost," like her mother claims used to live there. Ha. She would be so lucky.

Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: mentions of death, Tim Burton style tones Pairing: Astrid Deetz x Reader A/N: I know absolutely nothing about this movie, only the original, so I'm just gonna have some fun with it

Being a Deetz was one of the most irritating parts of life. At least, it was in Astrid’s opinion. Even without her own uncommon interests, she was held to the standards of her mother. Because her mother was weird, everyone assumed she was too. Which she was, but it wasn’t fair she couldn’t make that statement for herself.

She used to have a friend. You had been new to town and hadn’t known anything about her mother. It led to a wonderful friendship. Her favourite classes were the ones you had together, and eventually, she invited you over outside of school. Everyone thought you were crazy to agree, but you never faltered.

Even her mother and grandmother liked you, saying you were a “good kid.” Astrid knew better, you were trouble. Always in detention or being scolded by teachers in the hallways. You were anything but a good kid when it came to following the rules. But she wouldn’t deny, you definitely sweet talked your way into her mother’s and grandmother’s good graces.

You had done the same to her, pulling her in until she didn’t want to leave. The first kiss had been under the bleachers at a football game; disgustingly cliche. You had tasted of the cigarettes you stole from your mom. A disgusting taste, but it was good on you.

But as soon as she really started to like you - a little more than like, she would admit - you disappeared. You hadn’t been at school that morning, and when she went to your mom’s work, she had said she didn’t know where you were. Said it was no surprise you left; you could do better than this town.

That had been two years ago. Your mom had left town not long after your disappearance. Everyone assumed she had done something to you; a suspicion that came from the simple fact that your mom was, as the town called it, “trailer trash.” She was a nice person, Astrid had always liked her. She didn’t blame the woman for leaving.

Even Astrid had left for college once school was over. What else was she going to do, stay put? No, she wanted to get started somewhere else. Somewhere she wouldn’t be saddled with the name Deetz like it was some kind of curse. She loved her mother more than she would ever care to admit. But she wanted to do something for herself.

It was winter break before she came back home.

“Leaving already?” Her mother called from the porch when she grabbed her bike and started walking it to the street. “You haven’t even been here for three hours.”

“I’m going to check on the house,” Astrid said with a shrug. “I heard the owners moved out.”

“They did, thank god,” her grandmother said. “They did that house no justice.”

Bold coming from you, Astrid thought but kept her mouth shut.

“Don’t stay out too late,” her mother said.

“Lydia dear, when you were her age, you were almost marrying a ghost,” her grandmother said. “Consider it karma.”

“Mom,” her mother sighed.

Astrid had already hopped on her bike and started down the street. The path to the old house was well-worn; everyone knew it. The old owners had tried their best to convince everyone the house wasn’t haunted, but most of the town didn’t believe it. At least none of the school kids. They had jumped at the opportunity to have a haunted house in town whether it was real or not.

You had always liked that old house. No one had ever fully convinced you that ghosts had lived there, but you liked the thrill of it. I don’t think they’re real, but what if? You had asked one night after sneaking in through her window. We should check it out one day. After you disappeared, she had avoided the house like the plague.

But Astrid knew the path by heart. Snow had been plowed from the streets, and the dutiful citizens had shoveled the bridge. When she approached said bridge, she slowed until she could get off the bike, walking it across instead of riding. Her mother had made it clear that under no circumstances was she to ride or drive over the bridge. It was a silly rule; she followed it anyway.

The house was more run down than usual. It shouldn’t have upset her as much as it did. After all, it wasn’t like she had really ever lived in the house anyway. But it was still part of everything she had known growing up. To see it practically falling apart was… well, it was nothing short of devastating.

Without taking her eyes off of the house, she propped her bike up by its kickstand and slowly made her way to the front door. Step by step, each stair creaked under her weight. The house was a little creepy. Maybe it would be best if she just didn’t go in. After all, the door was practically falling off the hinge, if she actually knocked it would-

-the door swung inwards.

And you were standing there in the doorway with your eyes wide. You looked like you had seen a ghost.

“What are you doing here?” Astrid asked quietly.

You exhaled harshly, shoulders sagging with the movement.

“Want some tea?”

—---

Astrid looked as beautiful as the day you had left. Well, no, you hadn’t exactly left but… no, that was something you would face later. For the moment, you were going to enjoy seeing her again. It hadn’t been long, but she had grown into her own. Beautiful as always, too.

And way too quiet for your liking.

“Chamomile okay?” You asked when the kettle was near screaming.

She nodded once, not removing her eyes from you. It was unsettling; you had used to love it. Astrid wasn’t like normal girls, and not in the “too cool for school” kind of way. It was more of an “I’ll be me whether anyone likes it or not” kind of way. If she wanted to be weird and goth then she would and no one could stop her!

But you didn’t like how she was looking at you.

You placed the teabag in the mug and slid it in front of her. The kettle was only seconds away from screaming when you pulled it off the stove. No need to burst anyone’s eardrums. There was no point in being careful with the scalding water as you poured it into her mug.

“You disappeared,” Astrid said while you were mid-pour.

“About that,” you hummed.

“Does your mom know?” She continued. “That you’re right back where you started?”

Your mom. Momma. She had been left all alone after… how had she fared? Were the townspeople nice to her? They had better be, or you would personally bring hell to every single one of them.

“What does she think happened to me?” You asked as you turned around and placed the kettle back on the stove. You didn’t turn back around.

“What everyone else thinks,” Astrid said, “that you ran off.”

“Was she okay?”

“Honestly?” She asked. “She said she was glad you got out of this little town. Said you were too good for it anyway.”

Well that… that almost hurt worse than knowing she never knew the truth. Your momma hadn’t been perfect, but she had done the best with what she had. Time and time again, she had told you in her drunken stupor that you were destined for great things. You had always taken it to heart.

You need to tell her.

“Hey, Astrid?” You asked with a weak voice.

She hummed for you to continue.

“Remember in school when we would say we didn’t believe in ghosts?”

“Yeah, why?”

With a sigh, you turned to look over your shoulder. Astrid’s head was tilted slightly in that way you always found cute. It didn’t click just yet. She just kept looking at you, waiting for you to continue. You raised your brows at her. She was almost there, you could tell by the slight crinkle in her nose, and- ah, there it was.

“You’re joking,” she said.

You gave her your best tight-lipped “white person” smile but otherwise didn’t answer.

“You saw one?” She asked.

Oh. Oh, no, she didn’t get it.

“Well, yes,” you said, turning your full body so you could lean back against the stove and look at her, “but that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are-” there it is “-oh.”

There was something in her eyes when realisation dawned. Her eyes, while a gorgeous dark brown, were usually so bright. So happy, even when she was trying to act like she didn’t care about the world around her. But this was different. Any brightness dimmed to practically nothing.

“How?” She asked.

You shrugged and looked away. “The football team pushed me off the bridge.”

It wasn’t a fond memory, that was for sure. The icy layer covering the river had been rather sharp. But even that hadn’t compared to the pain of inhaling freezing water deep into your lungs. From what you could remember, it was slow. A memory you didn’t enjoy having, but maybe one day it would go away.

“You were murdered?” Astrid asked incredulously; horrifically.

“I mean listen, it’s not too bad,” you attempted to play it off. “It got me out of taking winter finals, which we both know I would’ve failed.”

“But it’s-”

“-I know, Astrid,” you interrupted.

You liked Astrid. You would even go so far as to say you loved her, mostly probably. Were you young? Sure. A little stupid and naive? Absolutely. High school sweethearts? You would say so, yeah. But she instigated a little too much, and she wanted to know everything, but this just wasn’t really something you wanted to indulge her in. Not yet, anyway.

Astrid was quiet for a moment. The gears were turning in her head, you could practically smell the smoke coming off them. What was she thinking, you wondered. Was she dwelling on the fact that you had died, cold and slow and alone? You certainly hoped not, it wouldn’t change anything. You were dead, you were now a ghost, and long-distance relationships weren’t that hard any more thanks to technology, so you could both still make it work!

If she wanted, of course.

“I thought my mom said her ghosts were stuck in the house for, like, a century or something,” she said instead.

You laughed. That was much easier to answer. “I told their caseworker I’d take their place. You know, let them rest in peace, or whatever,” you waved your hands vaguely.

“Caseworker?”

“It’s a long story.”

“So you’re why the previous owners left?” She asked.

“Guilty as charged.” You wiggled your fingers in her direction and smiled.

For the first time all day, she smiled back. God, you missed her smile.

“If you really are a ghost,” she said with a tilt of her head, “how can you pick things up?”

“Ooh, we’re getting to the fun questions,” you said with a smile.

The look on Astrid’s face was perfect. Curious, distrusting. The best mix of emotions; you loved when she was uncertain. It was a more genuine look for her, instead of trying to act like she knew everything and always knew what to expect. Always made her look super cute, honestly.

You walked over to where she was sitting at the run-down table. She turned to keep facing you until you were standing directly in front of her. It was going to be a risk, but one you were very much willing to take. Worst case, you stay stuck in the stupid house forever. No different from your current predicament.

“Took me a few months to really get the hang of it,” you said. Her eyes sparkled again. “You just focus on what you want to touch,” she blushed, “and voila.”

Her blush vanished when you picked up the mug beside her. What you really wanted to do was touch her. Gods, you wanted to know if you could still feel her warmth, the softness of her skin. But it wasn’t time. No, she was probably still worried about the fact that you had… well, you know. Died.

“It took you months to figure out how to do that?” She asked with a cheeky smile.

“Shut up,” you huffed, placing the mug back on the table. “It wasn’t like I had much to work with.”

“Why didn’t you ask my mom’s old friends how to do it?” Astrid asked before leaning back against the table. “I’m sure they would’ve helped you.”

“Never actually had the pleasure of meeting them,” you said with a shrug. “I only got to meet the other guy.”

“The other guy?” She asked, looking away in thought for a moment before looking back at you. “Oh, you mean Beetlegeu-”

-you slapped your hand over her mouth before she could continue.

“Don’t say it,” you whispered.

She nodded once, and you pulled your hand away.

“Was he really that awful?” She asked, matching your tone.

“He was that annoying,” you grumbled. “God, I swore the guy would never shut up.”

Astrid did her little crooked smile and laugh. The one that you would always try your best to force out of her during class to get her in trouble. Wait, that sounded bad. You didn’t want her to get in trouble, you just would have enjoyed her presence in detention. With you.

“So what else did you take two years to learn?” Astrid asked. She leaned forward until she was so close you could smell her shampoo. “Anything exciting?”

Wait. Wait, this could be your chance. You might be able to do something about it, this could be your shot. Two years in limbo, sitting in a run down house that did nothing but remind you of Astrid with everything you saw. It was her family’s house. You couldn’t leave her even if you had wanted to.

“Well,” you said, “there is something I’ve been wanting to test out.” You looked up to meet her eyes. “May I?”

“Let’s see what you got, ghosty,” she said.

You nodded to yourself and focused. Focused on her body, more specifically her face. Her stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, smiling face. Day after day, you had been thinking of her, and you had hoped time and time again that somehow she would come back to the house.

One deep inhale, hold your breath. Your hands were shaking so badly you would have dropped everything had you been holding something in the first place. And yet, Astrid didn’t budge when you lifted your hands and placed them on either side of her face. Exhale.

Her body was absent of warmth. Astrid had never been an exceptionally warm individual to begin with but this was… different. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her that you couldn’t feel her. Sure, you could touch things, but you couldn’t feel any of it. It wasn’t something you could describe, except calling it surreal.

“May I?” You asked again.

You could feel her breath on your lips even as she nodded. It was all you needed to pull her into a kiss. There was still no warmth, but there was a… a comfort in it. In feeling her lips against yours again after so long. To feel her breath mix with yours, replacing everything you didn’t need but you so desperately craved.

Her hands attempted to settle on your hips but fell straight through. In turn, you felt her shoulders sag as she placed her hands on your knees instead. That was… not a nice feeling. Maybe you could learn to focus enough to let her feel you back. That was possible, right? Surely it was.

You pulled away slowly. If you could have stayed kissing her for the rest of your century in that hellhole, you would have. But unfortunately, Astrid still had to breathe, and you had to give her the space to do it. Earlier you had questioned if you had really loved her or if it was a puppy love?

Oh no. It was the real deal.

“You can’t leave at all?” Astrid asked. “Not even for an hour or so?”

“You mean the haunted house isn’t romantic?” You teased.

“What do you even do in here all day every day?” She asked.

Once again, she reached out to touch you. Somewhere, anyway. You looked down at where she was attempting to hold your hand. Maybe if you could focus really hard, it would work. As far as you knew, you couldn’t materialise. At least, you didn’t think you could. But if you really concentrated.

Her fingers slipped between yours and, for the first time in two years, you felt her squeeze your hand. Physical touch. Real physical touch.

“I, ah,” you stammered, looking down at where she was still holding your hand. “It’s in my contract to scare people.”

“Contract?” She asked. Your arm moved as she pulled you closer. Okay, maybe physical touch was a bit unfamiliar to you after so long, you would need to get used to it again.

“My caseworker says I have a quota to meet,” you said, finally looking back up to meet her eyes. “So many people each quarter, you know?”

“So you need people to scare?” She asked. “On a regular basis.”

There was a sparkle in her eye. Something dangerous; scandalous.

“You have something in mind?” You asked with a tilt of your head.

Her smile was vicious. And attractive.

—---

The house looked beautiful in the daylight. The paint was fresh, the inside was cosy, and when nighttime fell? Rumour had it the ghosts came out to play. That was why most people rented out the house; their own private haunting for a night. The listing said if you could survive the night, the stay was free. So far, no one had lasted long enough to even give it a good shot.

And as you stood at the end of the bed watching the young couple sprint down the stairs screaming, you knew they wouldn’t be the winners either.

You walked over to the window and watched as they threw their singular bag into their car and peeled out of the dirt driveway. It hadn’t even been any fun, they hadn’t given you any time to actually scare them. Hell, all you had done was stand at the bed! You hadn’t made any faces, hadn’t pulled any jumpscares, you had simply stood there.

Were you really that scary?

“Gone already?” Astrid asked in a sleepy voice as she walked to stand beside you at the window.

“Didn’t even stay long enough for me to have any fun,” you pouted.

“Well, you’ve hit your quota,” she said. She grabbed your arm and pulled it over her shoulder before tucking closer to your body. After a few months, you were finally starting to feel a bit of warmth from her.

At least, you thought you did.

“Your mom is coming by in the morning?” You asked.

She hummed her confirmation.

“Maybe I can try to scare her, then,” you said.

Astrid pulled you away from the window and started walking you toward your shared bedroom. Not that you really needed the sleep, but it was nice to be able to lay next to her. It was exhausting to keep a more physical form, but for her? You would do it all day every day.

“Good luck scaring her,” Astrid said as she pulled you onto the bed. “She practically grew up with ghosts.”

“I’ll scare your grandmother then,” you said softly, but she didn’t move.

Astrid was already asleep in your arms, just like you had always imagined. Maybe being dead really wasn’t as awful as everyone had always made it seem. After all, it got you your dream girl.

[cooneyscross]

Better Keep Your Mouth Shut

Kyra x Sunny -> part one

summary: You've managed to keep your relationship a secret but can a drunk Kyra keep her mouth shut?

Kyra had only joined Arsenal a week ago but already people thought it was strange how close the two of you were with each other.

They all thought it was weird how you already seemed to have hundreds of little inside jokes that you would always be giggling about at training, and how you'd been out for coffee almost every day.

When people questioned it you'd both play it off saying that you'd clicked and wanted to get to know each other better. But in reality you were making up for lost time when you didn't have to chance to do this.

The girls would complain that they couldn't be friends with Kyra because you hogged her and you'd grin and claim it because you were the best person in the world and you couldn't blame her for wanting to be your friend.

Steph, who seemed to be the most suspicious, had even gone as far as trapping you in the changing rooms. Her eyes had been sharp, filled with a mixture of suspicion and concern as if she could tell what was going on. 'Why is Kyra always clinging to you?' Steph had demanded and it was the first time you'd struggled to smoothly answer.

'I've just been looking after her... making sure she settled in ok,' You stammered, trying to keep your tone casual, Steph was like Kyra's mum and you didn't want her to get mad. 'It can be really scary making this big of a move, you should know that.'

Steph's eyes stayed trained on your for a minute longer before she shrugged, either believing you or giving up trying. 'Caitlin must be right, Kyra's obviously going to make friends with the biggest pest on the team.'

Even though you were happy to finally be able to spend time with your girlfriend, not over facetime with an annoying time difference, you didn't want to stop her from being able to make friendships with the other girls on the team.

Overall the two of you had done a pretty good job at keeping it undercover, only once had the secret almost slipped.

Kyra didn't mean to she just hadn't been thinking about it when her and Alessia were leaving the cafe they had just had lunch in together.

'I need to pick up some chocolate for dinner tonight. It’s Sunny’s favorite.' The blonde had said as they walked along the street.

Kyra’s eyes lit up, smiling softly as she remembered all the times you'd begged her to get chocolate. 'Oh, that's a great idea she's obsessed with the marvelous creations you should grab that. Also get some Sour Patch Kids too. She always craves sour stuff after chocolate.'

Alessia raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at Kyra confused as to why the Aussie knew so much about a girl who she'd only met a week ago. 'That's pretty specific... has she always been like that?'

Kyra nodded enthusiastically, her mood lifting as she gets to talk about you. 'Yeah, always telling me how she needs that sour kick to balance out the sweetness. She'll give me the silent treatment if I don't let her eat them. Funny how she’s got such specific cravings, right?'

Alessia’s suspicion grew with every word. 'So you’ve been hanging out with Sunny a lot then?'

Only then did Kyra realise the mistake she'd made, the way she was talking about you made it seem like you'd known each other for ages which you had, but nobody else was meant to know that. She mentally cursed at herself for not realising sooner. 'Yeah, a bit. But she's always going on about how she loves that combination. I guess it just stuck with me.”

As they entered the store, Alessia couldn’t help but wonder how Kyra knew so much about Sunny’s preferences in such a short time. The details seemed too precise for a friendship that was only a week old, leaving Alessia increasingly intrigued and wary.

Currently you were all at a team gathering and Viv and Beth's house, the whole team catching up before the start of the season. You'd told yourself you wouldn't drink tonight, knowing when you do you normally ended up doing something stupid. However you broke that promise the minute Katie had teased you and called you a chicken.

So that's how you ended up leaning heavily on the kitchen island an empty shot glass in your hand, matching ones scattered on the table. A smug grin plastered to your face as you watched Katie struggle to down her drink.

'Who's the chicken now.' You laugh making chicken noises and only stopping when she whacks you in the arm making you wince.

'Piss off McCabe,' you huff rubbing your arm even though it didn't even hurt that bad. You just liked to make a scene out of things. 'You're such a sore loser, I can't believe you thought you could beat me in a drinking game I never loose.' You smirk at her even as she flips you off before you decide you don't want to deal with a drunk and angry Katie, instead going to find Vic.

'Hellooooo.' You smile stretching out the word as you wrap an arm around your best friend, sitting down next to her on the couch as she talks to Leah and Lia.

When sees you she rolls her eyes lightly, 'I thought you said you weren't gonna drink tonight.' You grin sheepishly.

'What do you mean, I haven't.' You lie causing her to roll her eyes again but you know she's not seriously annoyed as a small, amused smile plays at her lips.

'Well when your throwing up tonight, don't expect me to hold your hair back for you.' She teases moving her body so her legs are resting on you and you groan trying to push them off but failing.

'that's not true, you always hold my hair.' You tell her knowing that she may act annoyed but she's always there for you at the end of the night just like you are for her. She shakes her head and you move your face closer to hers 'admit it, you love me.' She laughs, gently pushing your head away from hers before the two of you join in with Leah and Lia's conversation.

You don't realise that as this happens Kyra is watching you from the corner of the room, where she is talking to Katie and Caitlin. Her attention far from the conversation as she gets sick of Katie complaining that you must've cheated.

Instead she's watching you with Vic, your arms wrapped around the Dutch's body and her legs casually resting on your lap. When you lean your face closer to hers she can't help but feel a pang of jealousy in her heart seeing you like that with someone else.

She knows her thoughts are irrational, you and Vic are just bestfriends, she's like this with Charli as well so she shouldn't be jealous but she is. She blames the alcohol for making her feel this way.

When your head rests on Vic's shoulder she leaves the room wanting to find someone else to talk to bored of Katie's complaining. She didn't expect to find Stina, Frida, Steph and Beth all laughing loudly as Kim stood in the middle of the room singing loudly to a song Kyra couldn't recognize.

When the other four notice her presence they all grin at her. 'You're next Kyra.' Steph laughs loudly handing Kyra a hairbrush and pushing her to where Kim used to be standing. She then plays a song and it takes a minute for her to realise what it is but when she does she let's out a little laugh before singing loudly.

Normally she wouldn't be this comfortable performing in front of people she hardly knew, but the alcohol surging through her veins seemed to have given her a surge of confidence.

Meanwhile, you're still stuck on the couch with Vic. Her legs on top of you stopping you from leaving. Your interrupted from the conversation by Alessia's loud voice in your ear.

'Sunny, you've got to see this!' She screams, pulling you up causing Vic's legs to fall to the ground a small whine escaping her lips.

'Hey! I was comfy.' She complains but her cries are unheard as Alessia is already dragging you through the crowded room. She was pulling you up the hallway and only when you got closer could you hear Taylor Swift's voice breaking the quietness.

It was only as you reached the door that you could hear another voice screaming loudly along with the song. the off-key wails you immediately recognized as Kyra's, and you immediately understood why Alessia wanted you to see the scene in front of you.

Kyra was completely wasted with a hairbrush in one hand and a glass of some alcoholic liquid in the other. The hairbrush was being used as a microphone with Kyra screaming the lyrics of You Belong with Me. Steph and Beth were dancing along together and Frida was laughing from the couch her phone trained on Kyra as she filmed the madness.

'Why can't you see-e-ee you belong with me!'

'Sunny please stop her, she's been playing this song on repeat like four times.' You laugh at the pained look on Stina's face as she speaks.

'Kyra! what the fuck are you doing.' You shout getting the Aussie's attention. When she sees you her whole face lights up and she runs over to hug you.

'Why were you being so cuddly with Vic.' She pouts, dropping the hairbrush onto the ground. You were always like that with Vic, and Kyra knew you only meant it in a friendly manner so you frowned.

'When.'

'Just then, on the couch.' She whined squeezing you a little bit.

You had no idea why she was so upset, you were just sitting together.

'Kyra Lilee Cooney-Cross, you've got to be fucking with me! You can't seriously be jealous of Vic!' You push her away lightly remembering where you were and that nobody knew about you and Kyra. She pouted as you looked around the room checking to see if anyone was watching you, which thankfully they weren't all caught up in their own stuff.

'it's not funny.' she puffed, crossing her arms like a 4 year old. By now Steph and Beth had changed the song and were both now in their own little world dancing away as everyone else watched their performance.

'Alright, I'm sorry.' You roll you eyes at her pettiness forgetting how dramatic Kyra could get when she'd have something to drink. 'I'll order a uber and we can get going when it arrives.' You offer and she huffs one more time before strolling off.

You laugh lightly at the girl watching her walk away from you walking into the door and swearing at it before going out of sight. You pull out your phone and open up the Uber app but are interrupted before you can order one.

Leah grabs your arm pulling you into the middle of the circle with her. 'C'mon little gooner,' she grins at you, using the nickname she had for you one that she started calling you when you first joined the senior team resulting in you calling her big gooner. 'It's our turn for karaoke.'

Someone chucks you the hairbrush which you catch with ease as the music starts blasting through the speaker and you instantly recognize the tune of 'The Angel' and you laugh. 'Manu, was this your idea?' You look towards the Austrian and roll your eyes playfully before you start singing the lyrics along with Leah. People laughing as you try to hit the notes but fail drastically.

When it gets to the chorus the whole room starts singing along.

'North London forever, whatever the weather.' Leah wraps an arm around your shoulder.

'These streets are our own.' You smile despite how awfully out of tune everyone is 'and my heart will leave you never, my blood will forever run through the stone.'

Eventually the song ends and every breaks into a round of applause you and Leah laughing as you take a bow.

'Who's next?' Beth shouts and when no one puts their hands up Beth stands up and grabs the hairbrush from your hand picking a song of her own.

You squeeze next to Caitlin on the small armchair she's sitting on, flicking her in the shoulder knowing she's was extra irritable when she'd had a drink.

'Fuck off, I'm not in the mood for it tonight.' She groans pushing you away, but its no use and the arm rests block you from going anywhere so you're still stuck pressed up against her side, 'Katie's been talking my ear off all night, and I was trying to get a break from it now but of course you had to ruin it.' She sighs and you grin at her reaction.

'Speaking of katie, where is she?' realising you hadn't seen katie since you beat her in that drinking game.

'Her and Kyra are in the kitchen, their both pissed.'

You frown to yourself, remembering you told Kyra you'd call and Uber but you'd not been able to when Leah had distracted you. You get off the chair and walk into the kitchen.

'I still can't believe you have a girlfriend, that you've never told us about before.' Alessia says, looking shocked at the news.

'She's so pretttyyyy.' Kyra was drunkenly rambling on to a slightly less drunk Alessia. 'L-like she's perfect. And it's not fair that she doesn't think I'm perfect.' The aussie whined sadly.

An equally intoxicated Katie frowned dramatically, 'well then she fucking stupid.' she decided through a hiccup.

Kyra gasped as it was the most offensive thing she'd even heard. 'Don't say that.' she pouted with a heated glare towards Katie.

'it's true.' Katie sniffed, waving her hand in the air mindlessly and accidentally slapping Kyra on the face.

Kyra let out a shriek as though Katie had full on punched her and lifted her hand, slapping the Irish back with no strength, it was more of a pat on the cheek.

Katie gasped loudly leaning over to hit Kyra back and seeming to forget she was sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter resulting in her falling off and landing on the floor.

And that's how you found them, a red faced and frowning Katie lying on the floor as though she had been shot, a giggling Kyra rocking from side to side where she was perched on the counter and a tired Alessia who still had a vague look of shock on her face as she was still thinking about the news Kyra had just broke.

'Normally I'm the one who has to be looked after on nights out.' You mumble, amused at the sight before you.

Katie pushed herself off of the floor so fast you were worried she'd injure herself but she didn't even notice, instead her face lit up making you confused before she yells out; 'Foordy!'

Caitlin groans from behind you and you realised she must've followed you, the aussie barely has time to prepare herself before Katie launches herself into her arms.

You grinned at them, shooting Caitlin a teasing smile as Katie snuggles herself into the crook of her neck and even let out a hum of complete content.

You only look away from the amusing yet adorable scene when you hear Kyra whisper to Alessia who had her eyes shut and was resting her head on Kyra's shoulder now. You were unsure if she was sleeping or trying to but you prayed it was the former as Kyra loudly whispered 'She's so pretty.'

Alessia just mumbles before a quiet snore escapes her lips and you allow yourself to go and sit next to Kyra.

'Talking about me love?' You question cheekily, this time speaking in an actual whisper so no one else can hear.

'Yeah.' Kyra whispered back, to out of her normal mindset to tease you or be cocky, instead she sounded so sincere that your heart fluttered a little bit. Her big eyes staring up at you hopelessly as you smiled tenderly.

'Well thank you.' You smiled softly, giving her a little squeeze not wanting to do anything more knowing that if Caitlin sees she's likely to remember as she's not as shit faced as Katie is.

'It's ok, it's the truth.' Kyra sleepily smiled back at you, her eyes drooping as she leans on your shoulder, Alessia groaning from the sudden movement rubbing her eyes as she moves into a sitting position.

It takes her a while to adjust, seeming as though she must've forgotten where she was after falling asleep. When she sees you her eyes light up a little bit a grin falling on her face 'Sunny you're here.' Her words are still slurred showing that she hasn't sobered up yet, 'did Kyra tell you the big news, she has a girlfriend!'

The smile falls off your face, and you feel your hands start to sweat as nerves take over. 'really?' You manage to say weakly, you weren't prepared for everyone to know 'did she say who it was?' You ask praying that even drunk Kyra would be smart enough to not tell them.

'No.' You feel your heartbeat ease but the smile on the strikers face falters, clearly disappointed that Kyra hadn't revealed who, before she beams again 'but she kept going on about how caring and funny she was, I wish I had someone to love me like that.' The blonde sighs looking into the distance as you smiled fondly at the other girl who's head rested on your shoulder.

'So pretty.' Kyra mumbles half asleep and your smile grows before Alessia looks back at her a coos.

'Oh Sunny, you've got to help me find out who she is.' She says excitedly, and you nod weakly trying to act as if you had no clue who it could be. After seeing your reaction Alessia squeals hopping off the table, 'I've got to tell the others the big news.'

'Maybe it can just be our little secret for now.' You suggest not wanting everyone to know as they'd all pester Kyra non-stop and she was never good under pressure.

'I guess, but Katie knows as well.' You sigh bringing a hand up to your face knowing that Katie wouldn't be able to keep her big mouth shut, all you could do was hope that she'd be to drunk to remember this in the morning.

Once Alessia's left the room, you're alone with only Kyra.

'Baby it's time to go, the Ubers here.' You gently shake her causing her to groan and hug you tighter burying her face in your chest. 'You can stay at my place tonight, we can just tell Steph that you crashed on the couch.' You tempt her and a small smile forms on her face.

'Cuddles?'

'Of course.' After hearing your response she quickly hops up and grabs your hand, helping you off the counter and pulling you to walk beside her and out of the house. 'Shouldn't we say goodbye?'

'It will be fine, they probably won't even notice we're gone. Now stop trying to stop me from spending time with my girlfriend.' She whines and you laugh kissing her on the nose to quiet her complaints.

'Better?' You joke rubbing her back before sliding your arm around her waist.

'I think I'm going to need more than that.' She says a mischievous glint in her eyes. You place a small kiss on her lip, intending for it to only be a quick peck but she senses your plan and wraps her arms tightly around you stopping you from moving as she deepens the kiss.

'Kyra.' You mumble between her lips, 'someones going to see us if we keep going.' after a bit of wiggling around you finally are free of her grasp.

You gasps, acting hurt as she places her hand to heart 'my own girlfriend doesn't love me.' she exclaims dramatically and you laugh.

'You're hearts on the other side silly.' You state moving her hand to the correct position as she goes red.

'I knew that, just testing you.' she lies a grin on her face as she does.

By now your out on the street waiting in the cold for your Uber, noticing your shivering Kyra wraps an arm around you pulling you closer trying to warm you up with some of her body heat.

'I love you Ky.' You say softly, the sound of your voice the only noise in the peaceful night sky.

'Love you more.'

'Don't think that's possible.'

She doesn't have the chance to retaliate as your Uber pulls up and you both hop into the back of the car, hands still intertwined as you do so. You quickly tell the driver your address as they begin the drive home.

You and Kyra sit in a comfortable silence both staring out the window and it's only when you look to your left that you realise the sad expression on Kyra's face.

'What's wrong my love?' You ask squeezing her hand as she turns around to face you.

'It’s nothing,' she mumbles, her voice barely audible. But when you give her a stern look, she exhales heavily, her frustration palpable. 'Fine. Tonight, I kept watching Caitlin, Katie, Viv, and Beth—seeing them so effortlessly happy together. It made me ache because I want that too. I want to be able to be with you like that. I want to show you off and kiss you without having to sneak around. I want to hold your hand in public, cuddle with you on the couch, call you ‘baby’ and ‘my love’ without the constant fear of hiding. I’m tired of pretending we’re just friends when all I want is to be able to be your girlfriend.'

You weren't expecting those words to fall out of her mouth and when you do it makes your heart sting a little. What she was saying was true, you felt that way to but you were too scared of all the bad things that could happen if you did tell everyone.

'Oh baby.' You look into her brown eyes which are slightly moist and you can feel her pain, 'I'm sorry for making you feel this way, I didn't know it was upsetting you but if you want we can tell the others. It's up to you.'

She looks torn, trying to decide how to respond. She opens her mouth before shutting it then opening it again, 'that would be nice, but maybe we can wait a little longer. We'll see what it's like after the season starts.' She suggests and you nod, yawning loudly as a sudden rush of exhaustion enters your body.

'Let's get home and rest we can talk about this tomorrow.' You tell her, eyelids becoming to heavy to keep open much longer. The relief you feel when you feel the car stop and see your familiar apartment building just outside the window is welcomed and you rush to quickly pay the driver before getting out of the car.

Once you get into your apartment you and Kyra both make a beeline for the bedroom, equally as ready as the other for a good sleep. You chuck her a pair of pajamas she left last time she'd stayed the night which she puts on whilst you do the same.

Your quickly in bed her head resting on your chest as you play with her hair causing a sigh to fall from her mouth.

'Goodnight love.' She whispers into the darkness.

'Night baby.'

[parkerflix]

—corazón despeinado

miles morales x gn! reader

genre: fluff?? angst???

wc: 1.7k

part two here

synopsis: your friendship with miles seemed to hit a sore spot. the reason? his hair.

warnings: atsv spoilers! like big spoilers! canon divergence (miguel would hate me sorry bae)

a/n: this is earth 42! miles! just put it under here since i put the warning okay read at your own discretion from here on!

“Ow! Que te pasa? That shit hurt, mami.” Miles sat forward, rubbing his scalp.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Miles Morales was such a baby when it came to doing his hair. You loved doing his hair, and him letting you have full control of it, but hated how much he flinched.

“No jodas. I barely even pulled it. If you would sit still, maybe we could finish this faster.”

Miles grumbled under his breath and he sat back in the chair, wincing when you started up again.

You had been doing Miles’ hair for years, Rio being your mom’s best friend. You guys spent summers and most weekends together, always having some sort of party. Your mom owned the neighborhood beauty salon & had been showing the ropes to you.

Miles always came to you when he wanted his hair done, or if he just wanted to see you.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight? Got a steamy date?”

Miles rolled his eyes.

“A date?”

“Yeah, a steamy date with some beautiful woman or man! Or romantic, a nice stroll on the street, the sky full of stars, going to a nice dinner.”

“Ya tu sabes, I’m not the type who does those types of dates.”

“Oh, so it is a date?”

“Mira, I don’t think there’s anyone I would date.”

You reached down in your apron to grab a hair tie to finish one of his braids.

“And why is that?”

You were so focused on his braids, that you didn’t notice his eyes staring at your face through the mirror.

Miles knew that he wasn’t into anyone the way he was into you. He wasn’t sure if you knew that he liked you. Miles thought it was fairly obvious, he gave you little gifts that he knew you would like, and spent most of his time with you. His mom had pretty much adopted you into his family, showing you how to make his favorites like mofongo & empanadas. For someone so bright, you seemed to not catch the hints he threw at you.

His silence caught you off guard & you stared at him through the mirror, a little surprised to see he was already staring at you.

“Miles?”

He seemed to snap out of whatever train of thought and sent you a half-hearted grin.

“Enough about me. What about you? Any plans?”

You shook your head, laughing slightly.

“Nah. Te recuerdas de ese guy que salí con like ages ago?”

Miles hummed as a signal for you to go on.

“Well, he asked me out again and as much as I loved the first date, I just wanted to spend the night by myself. Nothing sounds better than a cheesy movie & takeout.”

Before he could say anything else, you finished his last braid and tied it off.

“Ya terminé. What do you think?”

Miles got up from the chair and glanced at himself in the mirror, admiring your work.

“It looks good.”

You clapped your hands and gave him a hug.

“I’m so glad you like them! I know they’re a little different than usual but I thought they suit you.”

He nodded and gave you a small smile.

You were about to say something, when his phone went off.

“Girlfriend texting you?”

He rolled his eyes and pulled his phone from his jacket, seeing his uncle ask him where he was.

“Ya te dije, I don’t have anyone like that. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded and started to clean your station, hoping if you finished early you could leave.

Miles placed a chaste kiss on your cheek & made his way towards the door.

“I’ll take you out for breakfast tomorrow!”

He walked out of the door, leaving you smiling and shaking your head at how cute he could be sometimes.

You had left the salon late in the afternoon, taking a few of your mother’s clients while she handled a few other clients. You weren’t licensed just yet, but you knew you had the skills and experience to get your license as soon as you finished high school.

Your mom had some more clients after you had left & told you she wouldn’t be home tonight as she was planning on having a girls night with a few of her friends.

You had finally got home & changed into a shirt and shorts, ready to just relax and watch some movies. Rummaging through the fridge, you realized that you actually did have to order takeout, since there was nothing already made.

Checking the time, you figured you could swing by the local pizzeria, and stop by the supermarket for some ice cream. Grabbing your bag, you slipped on some easy shoes and made sure to lock the door.

At the pizzeria, you had ordered your food, and were just waiting. Sitting at one of the booths, you were slightly confused when you heard Miles’ voice come from the counter.

You turned to take a peek, and saw Miles there with a completely different outfit, and most noticeably, his braids were gone.

You were annoyed, his braids took you some time & he had already taken them out. If he really hated them, why didn’t he just tell you?

Going up to him, you tapped his shoulder.

He turned around and saw you, giving you a confused look.

“No me das esa cara, si no te gustaron, you know I would’ve changed them!”

Miles gave you an even more confused look, and started to really piss you off.

“Okay, why are you giving me that look? Seriously if you didn’t like the braids, I would’ve fixed them.”

“Braids? Do you have me mistaken for someone else?”

“Your name is Miles Morales, right?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Then no, I’m not mistaken. God why weren’t you just upfront about it with me? I would’ve done whatever you wanted, you know that.”

“Uh—“

“What? Are you too cool for them?”

“No I just—“

“I bet you do have a hot date huh! That’s what it is.”

“Hot date? Definitely not. I am so confused.” Miles said, awkwardly scratching the nape of his neck.

The guy at the counter called your name, and you pointed to Miles.

“Stay here. We aren’t done talking about this.”

You rushed up to the counter, and grabbed your pie, thanking him and ran back to Miles, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him with you.

Once outside, you dragged him to your apartment building, stopping at the stairs, placing your pizza box there.

“What’s going on with you?”

Miles just stared at you, not sure how to tell you that he wasn’t who you thought he was.

“I’m sorry.”

You sighed and frowned. Miles rarely apologized, even when he had done something. He had always sweet-talked you into not being mad at him, knowing that you had a soft spot for him.

“An apology? That’s a first. Miles, I just wanna know what’s been going on with you. You make plans with people and don’t tell me who, which like yeah I guess I’m not entitled to that information but—” you were cut off when he hugged you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and stayed like that for a second. You knew Miles. He wasn’t a PDA sort of person and he wasn’t big on hugs either. He wasn’t telling you something, and it seemed to weigh heavy on him.

Before you knew it, he had unraveled himself from you and you both were standing away from each other.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure this will all make sense eventually but I really gotta go.”

He gave you a look that you couldn’t decipher and left you, pizza still on the steps, getting cold.

You didn’t hear from Miles until the next morning, knocking at your window.

You groaned and threw a pillow in that direction, knowing it probably missed.

The knocking kept going, so you got up and went to open the window not even sparing Miles a glance.

You trudged your way back into bed, making space for the both of you. He laid down next to you, having a debate if he should pull you close to him.

“Amor, what’s wrong?”

“Be quiet. I'm still trying to sleep.”

Miles let out a huff and poked your side.

“Miles, leave me alone.”

“Que hice?”

“What do you mean ‘que hice?’ We talked about this. If you didn’t listen to me at all then why are—”

You turned to face him, quickly realizing the small space in between the two of you.

You stared at his face, the sunlight giving him a soft glow. His eyes even were a different shade of brown, turning more like pools of milk chocolate. But what stood out to you the most, was his hair, in braids, neatly as if they were never out of them.

How was that possible? You saw him the night before and he didn’t have them. What was happening?

Miles called your name and you blinked, face feeling flushed at your gawking.

“You have your braids.”

He gave you a confused look.

“Yeah?”

“But last night you didn’t.”

“Last night? I don’t remember seeing you last night.”

“You’re joking right? I saw you and we talked and you left in a hurry.”

You sat up and sighed, confused and frustrated as to why he wouldn’t remember this.

“Are you sure it was me?”

You stared at him. Why did he have to say it in such a condescending tone?

“Yes, Miles. It was you.”

“It couldn’t have been me.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“Maybe a bit delusional. Guess you missed me that much.”

You were beyond frustrated now, and got out of bed.

Without a word, you pulled him out of bed and walked him over to your window.

“What— seriously que te hice?”

Crossing your arms, you looked away from him.

“The fact that you don’t even remember our conversation yesterday, and the fact that you’re acting like it never happened and you weren’t being weird— I can’t.”

“You can't do what?” Miles' voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat.

“I can't do this right now. You should go.”

“But-“

“Miles.” you whispered his name, feeling so many different emotions. He knew that you had made up your mind and pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

With that, he climbed out of your room and went down the fire escape.

You sat in your room, confused by everything and feeling something new, something like a heartache in your chest.