#im sorry if this looks cluttered

[seafoam-taide]

the follerrr... shes just standing there doing nothing with no cool bg bc i really just wanted to color her. my boring ass first regretevator fanart

[zephyrine-gale]

kiana bronya mei u will always be my favorite main trio

[aloekat]

📌 "pressure is kinda my thing." 🔍

=====

we are so back baby

hello dimension 20 fans, have some riz art because i love him so dearly and he is my favorite fictional character ever lol

also probably my favorite art piece in recent drawings it just looks SO pleasing. no yeah most definitely my favorite it looks so clean

probably gonna turn this into a charm/keychain for myself, at least a sticker for my collection! if more people are interested in that lmk and maybe i'll consider buying in bulk and selling em if i can lol

==========

reblogs > likes, but any interaction is appreciated :D! tysm for seeing my art regardless :]!

[failedcoinflip]

Daan and Elise's wedding day. I'm literally begging you

hi!! i know this one's been stewing in my inbox for a bit but ive finally gotten around to it.. hope you like this little sketchbook doodle! i don't do traditional often.. (day 15)

[koshka-sova]

these are from the same illustrator... i didnt expect that

[perilegs]

outfits to fag it up in the grocery store + do cable management in

[tragedygf]

ITS LITERALLY LIKE IM CURSED OR SOMETHINGGHGVVVV

[dedusmuln]

tumblr: we want to create a dashboard that will be easier for our users to use also tumblr: (drops an even more confusing layout)

[mekakitsune]

mean!jinx x fem!reader - nsfw - minors dni

request from anon: "Hi love, I would like to request Jinx x Reader. The reader is Jinx's girlfriend and they are at the bar and a guy approaches the reader asking if the reader would like to go out with him and Jinx obviously doesn't like it, can this end with her fucking the reader to show everyone that the reader is hers? Please 😮‍💨"

dates in public really werent jinx's thing, or yours for that matter. she would always say something along the lines of "why go out when we have everything we need here?" by here, she meant her "workshop"– where it was cluttered with mechanical parts and the smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air constantly. it was more than enough, but sometimes, even you needed a break. had you not been so convincing, jinx would have not let you drag her out to the last drop. she didn't like drinking, nor did she like the usuals at the bar. they were loud, arrogant, and just plain gross.

she sat at the end of the bar, some fruity juice concoction in her cup as she swirled her straw around the glass looking less than interested in what was happening around her.

"i want another drink, ill be right back, kay?" you lean into her, and she nods, watching you hop off the stool and stroll (rather stumble) to the other end of the bar where the bartender stood. she watched as you smiled sweetly at the man, leaning against the bar as you recite your order. he nods and moves to make your drink, leaving you to stand waiting. without notice, a man slinks in beside you, with an unsettling smirk on his lips.

"put the lovely ladies drink on my tab, would ya?" he gruffed at the bartender, sending you a wink as he spoke. you smile politely, shaking your head as you speak up– "hey... im alright but thank yo-"

"nonsense, let me treat a pretty lady to a drink, yeah?" he cut you off. he reeked of booze, and was ultimately too close for comfort.

"okay...its a just a drink, but im a-" he cuts you off again.

"see, knew you'd want it. so hows about we getchu that drink and then ditch this place?" he smirks again, placing a hand on your shoulder, one eye brow cocked like he was waiting for you to agree. before you could utter a word, an arm wraps around your waist, and the mans hand drops from your shoulder immediately.

"sorry to interrupt whatever youre trying to do here, but shes taken."

jinxs sneers at the man, looking like she was ready to pounce any second. the man, stupidly, didnt budge– obviously not seeing your girlfriend as much of a threat. her fingers gripped your hip, hard.

"ohh so its like that? y'know, ive always wanted to see some girl on girl action in real time." the man stands, arrogant and overly confident. the smirk on his lips made your stomach twist. without thinking, per her style, jinx lunges at the man, slamming her fist into his nose.

your eyes go wide as the man stumbles back, hand gripping his now bloody nose. "you little bitch..."

the man moves quickly towards her, but a familiar metallic hand finds his shoulder first.

"you two. out. now."

it was sevika, of course she had been there. she had been watching the two of you since you walked in, knowing trouble was bound to come with you guys around, it seemed like it always did.

"i'll fuckin kill you..." the man spat, trying to remove himself from sevikas grip. she looked at you sternly, and you got the message from the expression on her face.

"pssh, you wish." jinx muttered mockingly, clearly not wanting to leave without finishing what she started, or rather, without killing this guy first. you grab her wrist and speak– "lets just go jinx, cmon.." you pull her towards you, and she follows as you drag her towards the door. shouts from the man can be heard from behind you, and jinx stops in her tracks to flip him off. you bite back a laugh as you tug her along into the cool air outside of the bar.

"what a creep..." she spoke low, eyes ahead of her as she walked, avoiding your gaze completely.

"im sorr–" suddenly she whips around to face you, brows furrowed. "i mean seriously? that perv was all over you, and you were gonna let him buy you a drink!? are you stupid?" she cuts you off to rant, making you shut your mouth.

"he could have done something bad, and you were just gonna let him? the hells wrong with you?" she continued, hands moving dramatically.

"i was just gonna empty his pockets when he wasnt looking, jinx... aren't you the one that always says "if you see an opening, take it?"– you quote her. "its clear he had money..."

this seems to make her head rush, anger and possessiveness rushing through her. before you can process it, shes grabbing your arm and dragging you into the alley on your right. with shocking force, she presses you against the wall, her face dangerously close to yours as her eyes bore into yours.

"that doesn't mean go around and act like some sort of slut." she squints, cocking her head to the side.

"are you kidding? fuck you, jinx. i-" she doesnt let you finish as she smashing her lips into yours, hard enough to bruise, surely. you gasp at her suddenness, and her hands find your hips again, pinning you to the wall behind you.

her tongue wins the easy battle for dominance, completely consuming you as if the two of you werent stood in an alley. the only light was a dingy street lamp, casting a warm glow onto the two of you. the kiss was hot, messy as she took control of every movement, hips pressing into yours. she pulls back from the kiss, chest heaving as her hands find your belt.

"what are you doing?" you pant, watching her as her skilled hands mess with your waistband.

"whats it look like, dollface." her tone is low, and you can tell shes serious about taking you right here in the alley.

"cmon...not here...people could see us." you shift your hips as much as you can, but theres little to no room between you and the wall, so your attempt are deemed useless. ignoring you, her fingers pop the button on your pants, and find their way into your underwear.

her lips are on you again, flush with your neck as she sucks marks into the skin.

"let em'. dont care." her words are muffled against your neck. you gasp quietly as her fingers find your slick folds, a low chuckle coming from her.

"see? slut. all worked up, and from what, hm? some creep sweet talkin you?" she rambles, her words making your skin flush. her fingers circle your clit, making you buck into her as she holds you steady with her other hand. the cool metal of her finger bleeds through the layer of fabric riding up your hips. soon enough, shes moving her fingers and sliding them into your cunt, making you whimper. you feel her smirk against your neck, lips leaving a trail of searing marks with the intention of claiming whats hers.

"or is it that you like the thought of being caught, hm?" her fingers pushed a relentless pace, making your knees shake. "y'like me fuckin you in public baby?" her words are making your head spin, along with her fingers inside of you. her breathing picks up again when she hears you whine, cunt tightening around her fingers.

"m'close, please..." you muttered helplessly, surely dripping down her wrist at this point. she presses a kiss to your lips as she pulls her hand away. you watch in awe, chest moving rapidly as her fingers come to her mouth, sucking them clean.

"what the fuck?" you pant, fingers wrapping around her wrist. she simply smiles, before slipping out of your grasp.

"s'one thing to act like you enjoy being flirted with, but im not about to make you cum where anyone could see." she shrugs, her grin sinister as she turns on her heel.

in disbelief, your shaky hands move to fix your pants and belt. she had it coming once you stepped back into the confines of her workshop, that was one thing for certain.

thank u for the yummy rq i hope u enjoy :3

[vantetaes]

BOOK WORM 🫧🥂

BOOK WORM! ARMIN X BLACK FEM READER

SUMMARY!! yn helps her friend relieve some stress.

WARNINGS!! 18+!! mentions of oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption, pet names, honestly just smut

the door creeps open slowly, revealing a figure illuminated by a laptop screen and a faulty led lamp. the faint clicking from the keyboard and sound of papers ruffling were the only sound that filled the room.

you peer around, the cluttered desk told you everything you needed to know: scattered papers, a coffee cup that looked like it hadn’t moved in hours, and a faint shadow under his eyes that screamed exhaustion.

“armin. what the hell?” walking over to the boy, gently placing your hand on his shoulder. the bag you came in being placed on the only clear spot of the desk. he leans into your touch a little, enjoying the warmth you never failed to bring, but snapping out of it quickly, rearing back up to continue typing.

“finals are in two weeks and if i don’t get my scores perfect i’ll have to hear about it for ages with my lawyer brother, attorney sister, my supreme court justice father, and my doctor mother.” he never once stopped typing. bending down to your knees, he gives you a small glance before reaching for a stack of crumbled pages, shuffling the sheets in confusion.

“i know it’s arou- ah! okay good.” he picks up a half ripped sheet, copying down the data from the sheet onto his laptop. lips in a tight line, you stand back up, digging through the tan tote bag. a small case of flavored beer and a couple of shooters make their way onto the desk. he looks over at the spread, immediately shaking his head.

“hell no, yn! are you crazy? i have class in the morning.” you throw you hands up in defeat.

“can we make a deal ‘minnie?” he ignores you, still typing. fed up, you finally unzip your jacket, tossing it on the extra chair. throwing one of your legs around the boy, he rears his hands up , scared to touch you. you’re straddling him, pushing the blonde locks out of his face, tucking a few of the longer pieces behind his ear. his ice blue eyes stare up at you in confusion.

“what are you doing, yn?”

“drink one beer with me. not! while doing homework. just enjoy a full beer and maybe a shooter and i’ll leave you alone afterwards! swear.” holding your pinky out to the male, he bites the insides of his cheek, thinking really hard about your opposition.

“just one?” waving your pink acrylic back and forth between your bodies, he finally latches on with his.

-

PARTYNEXTDOOR plays in the background, filling the void of quiet. the entire six pack was now just one. the one you and armin were currently sharing. he takes a swig from it, grabbing your chin with his thumb and index finger, he places the bottle to your lips. his blue eyes stare as you gulp down the last of the liquid catches you off guard, causing you to cough up a little, accidentally getting it on his white shirt.

“oh shit. im sorry.” you try to wipe it off with your sleeve. he just laughs, moving your arm a little.

“it’s okay. i’ll change.” he moves from his position on the bed, hand gripping the shirt from behind his head, pulling it over, stripping himself of the shirt. you couldn’t help but notice the way his back was sculpted.

since when does he work out? is that a tattoo?

“i didn’t know you had a tat, minnie.” slurring, he turns around to look at you sprawled out on his bed. your body waved hair sprawled out everywhere, sweater falling off your shoulders and shorts riding up your thighs.

he knows, you’re only his friend and he had no chance with you. hell, your ex is onyankopon. what could armin give up that he wasn’t? but shit, the way he thinks about you. the way his eyes can’t help but to feast on your appearance when you’re near him. he wanted to ruin you. to cherish you. to make you his.

“yeah it was an old friends idea. he passed not too long ago. still miss the kid.” he just hangs his head before going back to look for another shirt.

“come here.” you say assertively. armin turns around, the front looking just as good as his back.

he drunkenly waddles back to the bed, climbing back into his original spot. your finger traces over the abstract tattoo, inspecting it closely.

it was a sigilism tattoo that started below his ribs and extended up his left pec, to his bicep.

your other hand rested on his abdomen, laying up against the man.

“how long did it take?” you quiz.

“it was honestly two full sessions since im a pussy. so about five hours a session.” he laughs, face turning a little red.

“i think it’s so cool.” you say still studying the ink. look over at the man you see his eyes directly on you, then a quick glance down at your lips.

“i think you’re cool.” you say, feeling his body inch closer, gradually changing your position. his hands wrap around your waist, slowly shifting him under you. eyes never breaking contact.

“i think you’re-“ he leans down, eye to eye with you. his lips plant down firmly on yours. moving in sync, you could feel him relax into it, tongue occasionally swiping across your bottom lip. you’d never been this close to him. he smelled like coconut and dior cologne, hair dangling above your face.

“what about onyankopon?” pulling away from the heated kiss, he asks, worry filling his eyes.

“mm- what about him?”

“right. if you want me to stop, let me know pleas-“ throwing your arms around his neck, you pull him back down. his lips were so soft. his breath tasted like fresh peppermint, completely baffling you since you both just drank alcohol. he was intoxicating.

moving your lips in unison, there’s no rush, no urgency—just the gradual deepening of the kiss. the way his lips part slightly against yours, inviting more. his fingers slide gently along your jaw, tilting your face toward his, eager.

he forces himself to break away, whining at the loss. his lips move to your neck, hands wondering every inch of your body, trying to stimulate you every way he can. sucking and leaving marks all over your collarbone, he finds himself helping you remove your sweater. revealing a pink lace bralette.

“fuck, everything about you is so beautiful.” you whine, tugging at his sweatpants knot.

“well get there princess, lust let me make you feel good please. it’s the only thing i’ve wanted to do. let me eat you.” you could damn near see the fire that burned behind his eyes. his large hands slip under your bra, gently massaging them, using his index and thumb to roll your nipples in between. a gasp escapes your lips.

“armin- fuck.” he gets impatient, lifting your bra up to your chest, mouth immediately attaching to the swollen bud. your mouth forms a small ‘o’ shape, gripping at the man’s golden locs.

he leaves them both a few kisses before peppering your stomach with a few kisses.

staring down at the man, you see him kissing at the inside of your thighs, humming after every kiss. he finally gets impatient, gripping the shorts by the waistband, yanking them off your body. you giggle, being tugged a little.

wasting no time, he pins your legs back to the bed and starts eating you like he’s starving. his tongue dragging back and forth over your clit, saliva and spit mixing to create a glisten on the man’s face. his lips attach to your swollen clit, sucking soft while he reaches up to play with your matching swollen nipples, sliding his hands all over your exposed body.

“oh armin please!” you could feel him getting hungrier by the minute, his grip on your legs getting tighter as he rubs his tongue up and down your pussy. he stuffed two long thick fingers into your cunt scissoring them, ultimately touching your g-spot. you tried moving, your body tingling, but armin was so drunk from you, he couldn’t tell. his finger hooked into you, slowly stroking the spot, his tongue still abusing your nub. you were seeing stars at this point.

“fuck- minnie im gonna cum!” without fail, you released all over the man’s hand, fluid shooting out of your throbbing cunt, all over his face.

but he didn’t stop. his tongue continued its dance around on you.

“fuck me, i can’t take anymore, please armin.”

without saying anything, he pulls you closer by the waist. coming out of his sweatpants, his hand pumps a few times while he reaches in his side desk to grab a condom.

you also never knew how big he was. you stare at his length as he hovers over you, a little confused.

“where was that at?” you point, he laughs, pushing your legs apart again. looking down, a string of saliva falls right onto your slick, mixing in with the rest.

“was savin him for you, baby.” the tip slides in with ease, armins head throws back, already in love with the way you were sucking him in.

“give me all of it, please.” hips bucking up, trying to get the entire length into your throbbing core. his hands dig into your hips, pressing your down into the mattress, slowly sliding fully into you.

nails on his back, you let out the most nasty moan.

“shit, you feel so good squeezing around me.” pulling out, his body shakes a little, unable to control his whiny moans.

he keeps his strokes gentle and paced, still holding your body deep into the bed. hands pressed to the back of your thighs, he pushes down more, spreading yourself open to take more of him.

his throbbing cock continues slow and teasing, building a fire in the pit of your stomach. pulling your legs together, feet towards his face, his mouth kisses your pedicured toes.

the paces quickens, causing your body to forcefully move up and down. he snakes his arms around your legs, locking them in place with a bear hug, still pounding against you.

“armin! im cumming againn-” before you could catch yourself, you’re squirting all over his dick. he laughs at you, removing his arm, using one of his hands to play with your clit.

“ feel so fucking good. i don’t wanna stop fucking you. please, give me one more.”

he didn’t care that he hadn’t finished, all he wanted was you and all he could give you.

his pace slows down, the look on his face in pure bliss. your hands come up, caressing his face, tears brimming your eyes. the words wouldn’t even form.

“i want it baby, please cum with me.” your voice broken and low, his body lowers, connecting with yours and he slides his arms under your body, slowing down to a good pace. the unforgettable feeling of that tight coil in your stomach shows again as his cock digs at your spot relentlessly.

“im gonna cum, fuck-“

“me too, give it to me, ‘min!” your bodies clash against each others, sweat collecting on your chests, finally reaching the climax. his hips slow down, trying to catch his breath. pulling out, you both groan.

“i hope you know im not letting you fuck anybody else.” he saying rolling over, fixing your hair. your head falls over in direction.

“you too baby.”

with a few more laughs, he stands from the bed, trashing the condom before walking to you. his large arms scoop you up into a cradle.

“let’s get you in the shower.”

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

[livelaughloveluffy]

confession - trafalgar water d. law

a/n: sorry, i cant not call law "captain". its the same thing with luffy too, its just so hot 😭😭😭 fanfic is truly the only lawless time that i would be into some sort of power imbalance in a relationship, what happens on tumblr, stays on tumblr 😭💀

a/n: okay, not to like be the girl that pairs her fics with songs, but like... the second i finished proof-reading this i couldn't help but think of how well this fit: so here it is; hopefully you see the vision 😭😭😭 you can't tell me that song isn't law coded as hell 💀

nothing but fluff here 💗

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

when law first asked you to join the heart pirates, he never intended to fall for you. in fact, he actively tried to not fall for you.

it wasn't because there was anything wrong with you. you were everything he wanted and more, but he didn't want to be in a relationship. he didn't know how to be, if he was ready for one, how to be a boyfriend. he knew this, at yet, he couldn't keep his eyes off of you.

•♡•

when you first joined the heart pirates, initially you thought that the captain regretted even asking you to join. you always felt his watchful gaze following you. even when he wasn't around, you could still feel the burn of his intense hazel eyes on your skin. it became difficult for you to even look at law without blushing slightly, feeling a bit intimidated by him, but also intrigued.

so when he asked you for help organizing the files and loose papers in his office, you instantly agreed. party because you hoped that if you did a good job, you would prove to the captain that you were competent and a good choice to be on his crew, and partly because you held the tiniest bit of hope that this could be an opportunity to get to know him more.

•♡•

okay, so, maybe you were wrong. maybe this was a bad idea. i mean, you can't say no to the captain's orders, but also. this was painfully awkward. at least for you it was. you had been going through the loose papers on law's desk with minimal guidance from him. he sat on the opposite side, engrossed in work.

once the mess of papers on his desk were somewhat figured out, you moved them to a separate (just as cluttered) table in his office to set the down on while you gather other papers scattered around the room. even now with your back turned, you could feel law's hazel eyes following you as you moved around his office.

you hurriedly grabbed the other miscellaneous papers, bringing them to the secondary table, where you then decided to take a seat and really sort through them all, carefully scanning their content to determine how you should file them.

it wasn't until a good half an hour in, that you uncovered an open book buried beneath the papers. you make note of the page it is opened on, holding a finger in place there, as you turned to look at the cover.

"i didn't know you were reading this series law! it's one of my favorites! how are you liking it?" law glanced up from his work, looking to see what book you were talking about. with a scoff, he suddenly seemed to perk up a bit, which was the most excitement you'd ever seen displayed from the captain. "fuck, i've been looking for that book for seven months, every island we stopped at that had a bookstore was always sold out. i've been wondering how it ends for ages now."

"it's my all time favorite in the series, the ending was amazing! i wouldn't mind rereading the whole series just to read that book again.... im glad i could find it for you!" you replied, with a wide smile.

law quietly stood up, leaving his desk to walk over to the bookcase beside it. he grabbed the very first book of the series. as he walked over to you, he paused right in front of you for a second, as if contemplating what he was about to do before offering the first volume to you in exchange for the copy you had found of the third volume. with his gruff and quiet voice, he announced "the office can get organized another day, wanna read for a bit?"

•♡•

true, law was always intrigued by you, from the very second he met you. but pure intrigue had instantly shifted to attraction the second he looked up at you holding the "lost" copy of the book he had been obsessed with. it was to his surprise that you too had also read this series, and loved it.

before he could even process what was happening he heard the words "the office can get organized another day, wanna read for a bit?" slip out of his mouth. and the instant wide smile that shined on your face after he did make him so glad he had said it.

•♡•

it wasn't too long after that first day organizing law's office that the two of you made it a plan to read together. quiet and dark evenings in the captain's office, spent in comfortable silence and the the frequent ambient sound of page turning as the two of you read and reread some of the best moments in your beloved book series.

as you both continued to make progress with the novels each night, the more you noticed the utter charm of the captain. his toned, tan, tattooed chest, his messy dark brown hair, his piercing eyes as the scanned the words on the page in front of him.

you two had grown comfortable in each other's presence, and even began to prefer it to being alone. this small routine being the only time you guys got to spend together alone, becoming an honored custom.

but you couldn't help but hope for more from the captain...

•♡•

law had a hard time vocalizing his feelings. this was something he always knew, but didn't quite have to face the reality of until he was sitting alone in his dark office, waiting for you to show up for your usual nightly reading date, but as the clock ticked by he began to give up hope.

his jealousy bubbled to the surface when he walked into the common room to be greeted with you.... hanging out with shachi, penguin, and bepo, cuddled up next to the soft polar bear mink during a movie night with the crew. what bothered him the most, wasn't the obvious sitting right in front of him, but the fact that he was the one who let it happen. its not like you knew that he'd been harboring feelings for you, he never said anything. but that was about to change.

snuggled into the warm fur of your mink friend, you didn't even notice the law's quiet whispers across the common room "room... shambles."

•♡•

in an instant, you were suddenly in law's office. instead of your head being buried into the soft white fur of navigator of the heart pirates, instead your cheek was laying against the soft warm bare chest of the captain. finally adjusting to your surrounds, you startle a bit "captain.. what the hell is going-"

his arms tighten their grasp around your body, keeping you pressed against him. "sorry... i just.. i couldn't stand watching the two of you that close anymore..." he explained, his voice gruff and somewhat defiant, as if it was a sign of weakness and vulnerability to come clean about the way he feels. "i just.... i was waiting for you tonight.."

you softly began to explain the situation "im so sorry, bepo and the gang dragged me to movie night before i could make it to your office" with side of your face pressed against law's bare chest, you could feel his heart racing, he was much more nervous than he let on. and you, feeling proud of him for being able to vocalize his feelings this far, you decided to make it a bit easier for him when you reply "if you wanted me, captain... all you had to do was ask.."

you could feel him bury his face into your hair, and for a moment he just sat there, holding you, soaking it all in, before he lets out the smallest whisper, just barely loud enough for you to hear, as if he's so afraid to say his wish out loud, like doing so would make it disappear "please be mine?"

you lifted your head up, bringing a hand to the side of his cheek, before you reply "consider me all yours, captain."

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

a/n: i may have written the end of this fic before the beginning, so just roll with it if the flow is kind of weird at the end 😭😭 idk how much longer i can stare at my laptop writing this 💀

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[frostedpuffs]

i know this is probably a very unpopular opinion but i prefer the new animation over the old style. Adrien's new design will take some getting used to but everyone else looks AMAZING. and im sorry, i know we all loved the old animation, and it's nostalgic, but it was OUTDATED. miraculous needed an animation update so badly. some of the old episodes looked a little bit too much like cocomelon if im being honest!

i think a lot of people hate the new animation because they don't like change, which i get. I initially felt the same. but i think it's a massive improvement and those people who are refusing to watch the new season bc of the change are doing a massive disservice to themselves and the show.

it's all just so fun! the background characters have more diversity. there are so many more little details (like the strands in Marinette’s hair, the red streaks in ladybug's, the seams on their suits, Marinette’s room having clutter, the wrinkles/textures in clothing, nino's curls, and the entirety of Paris looking less dead). all the characters feel so much more like themselves and the new animation brings so much life to them. the new akumatization sequence is so cool and creative.

overall, i really, really love it, and i don't understand why people are so adamant saying it's bad when it very clearly isn't? other than disliking change which i do understand. but man im gonna be honest, it feels like this fandom hates any sort of change and literally always has something negative to say. shows getting an animation update after a long runtime is completely normal and happens all the time. maybe not this drastic of a change, sure, but it's very common. after 6 seasons of this show id HOPE the animation would've changed and been more up to the higher quality standard other animated shows are.

anyway, loving season 6 so far. loved episode 2. excited to see more. i adore this show more than words can describe it makes me so happy

(please do not make me regret keeping reblogs on by coming on here and telling me why you dislike it and arguing with me. i am fed up w the negativity)

[dazevi]

CHAPTER TWO: BY YOUR SIDE

heart to heart series | vi x fem!reader

synopsis: vi returns to her childhood home, overwhelmed by the past. vander encourages her to attend a wedding. and when you cross paths again, vi tries to do whatever she can to find a way back into your life.

content warnings: MDNI. angst, suggestive content, rockstar!vi, writer!reader, bookshop owner!reader, eventual exes to lovers, no smut yet, sexual tension, vi is looking respectfully, jaymel cameo, bestfriend!mel, mentions of alcohol and smoking, profanity, awkward reunion, mmm idk what im missing but lmk !

wc: 13,144

note: sorry for the wait! this chapter feels a little more like a build-up chapter but can’t wait to upload the later chapters ahhh !!! (fanart by bunimint_ on ig)

navigation | series masterlist | previous chapter

Vi stood in the doorway of her old bedroom, the strap of her guitar case digging into her shoulder. The house smelled the same—faintly of laundry detergent and the old wooden floors her mom used to obsessively polish when she was a kid.

It hadn’t changed, not a single thing about it.

The same pale red walls, the same band posters sloppily pinned up in the corners, curling at the edges with age. Her bed still sat against the wall beneath the window, the same worn quilt folded neatly at the edge like her mom still expected her to crawl into it every night. Even her desk was untouched, cluttered with textbooks and notebooks she hadn’t opened since she was eighteen, the pages frozen in time like she had only stepped out for a moment, not years.

Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes swept over the room, the memories that rushed back into her mind made her knees feel weak.

Late nights scribbling in her notebooks about songs she was too afraid to share with anyone, the afternoons spent sprawled across the bed on the phone with you, talking about nothing and everything all at once. She could almost hear your voice now, laughing softly as she played a chord wrong on her guitar, only for her to insist it was intentional because she claimed it was experimental.

Vi swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the handle of her suitcase.

She hated how small the room felt now, how it seemed to mock her. It once belonged to the girl she used to be—the girl who thought she had everything figured out, the girl who couldn’t wait to leave this town behind.

Now it felt like it was waiting to swallow her whole.

She set her suitcase down by the bed and eased the guitar case off her shoulder, placing it gently against the wall. She looked over to the corner of the room, and stepped up to her the older one, a faded acoustic with stickers all over the body, just resting against her desk. Her fingers brushed against the neck of the guitar—it was the same one she played since high school, the same one she used to play for you.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulled Vi out of her thoughts, her head snapping up as she turned her head.

Vander stood there, leaning slightly against the wood, his massive arms crossed over his chest in that familiar way that always seemed to say everything’s fine, kid. He wore a faint smile, though his eyes were saying something else—relief, maybe, or concern. She wasn’t sure.

“Didn’t touch anything while you were gone,” he said, and chuckled lightly. “Figured I’d let you do that when you got back.”

Vi let out a breath, her lips twitching into the smallest of smiles, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She ran a hand over the back of her neck, trying to brush away some of the tension that had settled there since stepping out of the airport.

“Yeah, uh… thanks,” she mumbled, but it was quieter than she meant it to be.

Vander stepped inside, his boots heavy against the floorboards, and leaned against the edge of her desk like he used to when she was a teenager. Back then, he’d perch there with his arms crossed, asking about her day, actually try to help with her homework or teasing her for the mess she insisted wasn’t actually a mess.

Now, he stood there quietly, taking her in like he was trying to figure out what to say next.

“Thought you’d want it that way. You always hated when people moved your stuff.”

“Yeah,” she said.

He smiled a little at the memory, his hands fidgeting with the edge of a notebook she hadn’t touched in years.

“Powder’s coming home later in two weeks for break. Been pretty busy with all that college stuff.” He says. “And as much as I love having you back home… everything alright with that fancy job of yours?

“Our, uh, manager thinks the band needs a break… from work… and touring nonstop, so…” Vi trailed off, her voice faint. “Ekko’s prety happy about it. He missed Benzo a lot.”

Vander didn’t respond immediately. He just nodded slowly, his eyes soft, as if he already knew that there was more going on her mind. She wasn’t talking about just the band. She was talking about everything. The constant noise that came into her life, the rush of being in the spotlight that made it hard to even breathe sometimes. The exhaustion that had piled up too, unnoticed, over the years.

Vi sighed, running a hand through her hair, fingers brushing the silver chain that hung around her neck, tugging it out from under her shirt.

“Well, Benzo is a huge fan, as you know,” Vander continued, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Won’t stop talking about you guys. Keeps showing off posters Ekko sends in the mail.”

Vi’s lips curved upwards, a soft laugh slipping out. Benzo always supported the band even way before they became one, since she and Ekko were kids, playing with glasses of water, a small keyboard and buckets flipped over to drum on them.

She remembered the first time they’d played at his diner, the crowd just a few regulars, and Benzo grinning like the proudest uncle. He’d been the first to show up with his camera, asking for a picture of the band.

“You guys are going to make it big,” he’d said, without any hint of doubt in his voice.

“I should really go down there and see him… check up on Ekko, too,” Vi muttered, almost to herself. “His birthday’s coming up soon, isn’t it?”

“Sure is.”

Then, she looked out the window instinctively, like she always used to, and her eyes lingered on the house across the street. She could almost hear the sound of your soft voice, echoing in her mind like it had never left. She could imagine you inside, just going about your day, living your life without her.

She couldn’t stop staring at it, even though a part of her knew she shouldn’t. And yet, she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

She couldn’t stop herself from wondering, wondering what you were doing now, how you were feeling. Did you still think about her? The same way she thought about you? Were you with someone else now?

No, she… Vi didn’t want to think about that.

“Are you going to that wedding?” Vander’s voice broke through her thoughts.

She blinked, turning slightly to face him.

He continued, “Got a letter invite a couple weeks back, but I’m sure Jayce already let you know about it.”

A wedding. She had heard about it from Jayce, of course. Mel and Jayce were getting married. But she hadn’t really thought about it in the way she should have.

You’d probably be there.

And the thought of going, of seeing you again, made her stomach flip. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face you after everything. Three years. But it felt like it had been a lifetime. She couldn’t deny that a part of her wanted to be there, to see you, but another part of her feared what it would mean, of what would happen.

She shifted on her feet, glancing back out the window at the house one more time, as if it could give her the answer she was looking for.

“I don’t know yet,” Vi finally replied, her voice softer than she intended.

“Well it might be good to go see—”

“I said I don’t know.”

The tone of her own voice shocked herself.

“Sorry.”

Vander’s gaze softened as he looked at her. Her gaze lingered on the house across the street, her eyes tracing the outline of the familiar windows, the same one she used to sneak into to get to your bedroom in the middle of the night just because she just wanted to kiss you, and the same porch where she used to sit with you, long into the evening, talking about everything and nothing all at once.

Fuck. She couldn’t help herself.

“Is… is she still living over there?” she asked quietly, almost like she was afraid to hear the answer.

Vander glanced over, a small frown pulling at his lips as he followed her gaze toward the house. He paused for a moment, thinking, before responding with a soft shrug.

“No, she… moved out a couple of years ago,” he said. “Her mother mentioned an apartment somewhere downtown.”

For a moment, Vi stood there, her mind racing. She tried to picture you in this new place—your own apartment, a life carved out without her in it.

She didn’t speak right away. Her mind was too full, too clouded by everything she had tried to push aside. She’d been running for so long, keeping herself distracted with music, with the band, with anything that kept her from what she had left behind.

“Well, I’ve gotta get to work,” Vander says, walking past her and stopping in the doorway for a moment. “By the way, even if you don’t want my input on it, I really think you should go to that wedding. Better than being cooped up in here the whole time… Besides, I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

He stops by the doorframe, turning around then tossing something small and metallic over to her, which she catches with ease.

Car keys.

“Also, got that truck of yours fixed up when I heard you were coming back. Would be nice for it to get back on the road.”

Then he left.

Vi stood in there silently, watching as Vander walked out. She wasn’t sure what to make of it at first—he was always the type to be blunt, to offer advice that, whether she wanted it or not, often felt like the truth.

She stared down at the car keys in her hand, her thumb tracing the familiar grooves of the key to her old pickup truck—the one she’d spent an entire summer fixing up in Vander’s garage when she was seventeen. It had been her pride and joy, her freedom on four wheels.

She could still feel the way the leather seat would stick to her thighs on hot summer days, how she’d leave the windows rolled down because the AC had never quite worked right. She remembered the smell of grease that never really left the upholstery, no matter how much air freshener she hung from the rearview mirror.

But mostly, she remembered you.

Nights spent parked in that same old truck at night, your laughter mingling with the chirping crickets in the warm air. She could still feel the ghost of your hands on her face, your lips against hers in the soft glow of the dashboard lights. She remembered the way you’d pull her closer, your fingers curling into the collar of her shirt, as if you couldn’t stand even the smallest gap between you.

She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head as she remembered another one—the two of you sneaking into the drive-in theater just outside of town. The projector’s flickering light had barely held her attention, not when you were sitting there next to her, your head resting on her shoulder, your hand absentmindedly playing with the hem of her shirt. She’d pretended to watch the movie, but all she could focus on was the sound of your breathing and the way you smelled.

You spent lots of your time in there with her. After school, after curfews, after everything.

She’d taught you how to shift gears in it, though you’d been hopelessly terrible at it, and she hadn’t minded one bit. You’d laugh at yourself, and Vi would laugh with you, though secretly she thought it was adorable. And when the nights were too quiet and the world felt too small, she’d drive you out to the edge of town, to that spot by the lake where you’d talk for hours, play you different songs on her guitar.

She turned back to the room, her eyes tracing her surroundings. It felt almost like a relic. She grew up here, sure, but who was she now? A part of her felt like she had lost herself along the way—lost in the noise, the music, the constant moving, the faces of strangers she met on different nights. She thought about everything that had happened between her and you. She had never really taken the time to face it all, to truly think about what went wrong.

But Vander was right.

She couldn’t stay locked away forever. She had to move forward. The band had taken a break, and the world had slowed down for a moment.

With a soft sigh, she looked out the window again, her eyes finding your house across the street.

Catch up with old friends. Was that what she needed? To face the past? To see the people she had left behind?

She crossed the room, her fingers brushing against the familiar objects scattered around. Her childhood trophies. Old photos with friends. It all seemed so distant now, like someone else’s life.

She took a deep breath, the decision heavy in her chest. Maybe Vander was right. Maybe it was time to show up, even if she was afraid of the thought of it.

“I guess I’ll go,” she murmured to the empty room.

The air in the dressing room was thick with the hum of distant music and muffled laughter seeping through the walls.

It was a busy day, but here, everything seemed still.

The place smelled faintly of lavender and vanilla, the scent lingering from the carefully arranged flowers that adorned every corner of the room. Soft light from the chandeliers cast a warm glow over Mel, who stood nervously in front of the mirror, adjusting the layers of her white gown. The fabric shimmered slightly under the lights with speckles of gold both on her dress and in her hair. She looked so beautiful.

You stood beside her, your own dress, a soft shade of blush pink. You absentmindedly tugged at the fabric by your hips, trying to steady your breath, as your eyes flickered between Mel and her reflection. She was fidgeting with the edge of her veil, looking every bit like the bride she was supposed to be.

“Mel,” you said softly. You stepped closer to her, placing a hand on her arm in reassurance. “You look stunning. Just breathe.”

Her eyes met yours in the mirror, and you saw the quiet panic that flickered behind them.

“Do you think I look okay?” she asked, her voice betraying her nerves. “I mean, I know I should feel excited, but I feel like everything’s about to fall apart. What if I mess up? What if I trip down the aisle or say something wrong or—”

“First off, I have never seen you trip once in my entire life,” you interrupted gently, your thumb brushing over her arm. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’ve been dreaming about this day for years, Mel. You deserve every single moment of it.”

You gave her a small smile.

“You’re just gonna walk down that aisle and Jayce is going to look at you and see you and no one else. Like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And you are, so stop worrying, you’re about to be his wife.”

Mel exhaled slowly, dropping her shoulders a little as she allowed herself to relax, even if just a fraction. She stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment, her fingers lightly touching the delicate lace of her dress. She nodded slowly, her eyes softening as the last of her worry seemed to ease away. She straightened up, her back a little less hunched, her chin lifted just enough to make her look like the woman you’d known all these years.

“Thank you,” she said sigh. “My god, I’m getting married.”

You gave her a teasing smile. “Yeah, you are.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright. I’m ready.”

Mel straightened her veil one last time and stood taller, stronger than she had a few minutes ago. You both shared one last look in the mirror before heading toward the door.

And before you knew it, you were standing in front of the aisle.

You barely noticed when Viktor, standing beside you, Jayce’s best man and friend, began to guide you down, your arm linked with his. The music played by the pianist surrounded you, and everyone’s whispered voices faded into the background. Your focus narrowed to just the steps ahead of you as you went on. Viktor smiled warmly at you and the flowers in your hands felt heavier now, their petals brushing your fingers with each step. The soft rustle of your dress seemed to blend with the rest of sounds of the room, the only thing you could hear, aside from your own breathing.

As you neared the end of the aisle, Viktor slowed his pace, and you both came to a halt. His hand gently lifted from your arm and you separated, parting to make space for the groom and the bride, and stood still for a moment, facing the crowd.

And it was then, as your eyes scanned the room, that you saw it—a streak of pink. The color almost seemed to glow.

Vi.

Her hair, now a little longer than you remembered, was glowing under the soft light.

Your heart skipped a beat, then stilled, as you stared and swallowed the lump in your throat.

She’s sitting there, in the middle of the crowd, dressed in an all-black suit, the kind that should look formal, her collar loose and unbuttoned under her jacket. She looks good—too good, in that frustrating way you remember all too well.

And she’s staring right at you.

She’s been staring the whole time, as if she’s been waiting for this, waiting for you. Her jaw is set, her lips pressed into a line that isn’t quite a smile but isn’t far from one either. It’s the look she used to give you when she was trying to read you, trying to figure out if she should say something or stay quiet.

Your fingers tighten slightly around the bouquet in your hands. And then, from the corner of your eye, you see movement. Mel steps into view, bright in her wedding dress, reminding you of where you are, of the role you’re here to play.

And it’s enough to force you to tear your gaze away from Vi.

Your eyes snap back to Mel, and you focus on her. You force yourself to breathe, to focus, but deep down, you know this will stay lodged in your mind.

Vi stared the entire time.

She’d been staring from the moment you stepped into view. She’d been waiting all day for this—waiting for you to step out, to catch even a glimpse of the person who’d lived in the back of her mind for years, no matter how hard she’d tried to bury the thought of you.

And when she finally saw you… God, fuck.

You were beautiful.

So beautiful it made her throat tighten and her chest ache. It wasn’t just the dress, though it was stunning, soft and flowing, hugging you in all the right places.

You looked better than she remembered, which felt impossible because, to Vi, you’d always been the prettiest person she’d ever laid eyes on.

Her heart thudded painfully as she took in the way you walked, like though you weren’t sure you belonged in the spotlight. You always did that—shrank yourself down, even when you had every right to take up space.

And Vi hated it. She hated how much she missed it too.

She couldn’t look away, couldn’t even blink. Her gaze drank in every detail—the line of your collarbone where the dress dipped, the curve of your neck, the curve of your lips. She thought about how she used to trace the edges of your jaw with her fingertips, how you used to tilt your head into her hand when you were silently asking her to kiss you.

Her jaw clenched, her lips pressing into a tight line as if that could stop all her emotions from crashing over.

Because fuck, you were right there. Flesh and blood, in the same room.

And yet, you felt so far away, like the distance between her seat and from where you stood might as well have been a thousand miles.

Her mind raced as she sat there, still as stone, her fingers digging into her knees to keep herself calm. What would she even say if she could speak to you? What could she say that wouldn’t sound pathetic, desperate?

Because she was desperate.

She realized that now, sitting here and watching you.

In fact, she watched you for the rest of the night. All the way up to the after party.

Vi stayed on the second floor balcony for most of the evening, nursing a drink she didn’t particularly care for, her other hand gripping the railing as she leaned against it.

The view was perfect from up here—not of just the party, but of you.

She could see everything, every little detail. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d missed the sound of your laugh until it reached her ears over the music and chatter.

She watched as you spun around the dance floor with Jayce, his booming laugh echoing as he twirled you, your dress flaring out. Mel joined in too, her bouquet forgotten somewhere on a table as the three of you swayed and stumbled with too much energy to care if you looked silly.

Vi’s lips curved into the smallest, bittersweet smile at the sight of you and her friends all so carefree, so full of life.

From up here, she could even watch how some guys went up to you, making her grip on the railing even tighter. She could see the way their eyes lit up when they looked at you, how they straightened their postures, how they leaned in just a little too close.

Vi hated how much it bothered her.

But you… you were polite, as you always were, letting them have their moment before smiling and shaking your head, refusing a dance or to talk with them. You didn’t let them pull you away, didn’t let them have the piece of you they clearly wanted.

She should’ve felt relieved, but she didn’t. It wasn’t enough.

Because deep down, she knew she had no right to feel this way anymore.

You weren’t hers. You hadn’t been for years.

Vi leaned further into the railing, her fingers loosening around her glass as she tilted her head back, exhaling softly. God, you looked so happy. And you deserved to be happy. But Vi couldn’t shake the selfish, ugly thought that she wanted to be the one who put that smile on your face again.

Earlier, she’d congratulated Jayce and Mel, shaking hands with Jayce and giving Mel one of those half hugs she was bad at. Jayce had been his usual cheerful self, patting Vi on the back and saying how good it was to see her. He’d even cracked a joke about how the great Violet of The Lanes had graced them with her presence. It was lighthearted, teasing, but Vi couldn’t stop the tiny pang of discomfort it caused.

She didn’t want to be that big rockstar here. Not tonight. She wanted to be Vi, the same person they went to high school with, the person you used to know.

Vi couldn’t stop staring at you, no matter how much she told herself not to.

You were laughing at something Mel said, your smile lighting up your whole face. Fuck, you were so pretty.

She forced herself to look away. Her throat felt tight, and she needed air—real air, not the stifling kind laced with too many conversations and clinking glasses and the faint scent of champagne.

With a sigh, Vi turned on her heel and slipped through the doors behind her, the sound of the party fading as she stepped out onto the outdoor balcony. Her hand instinctively reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out a slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes and her old, scratched-up zippo lighter.

She lit the cigarette, taking a long drag as she leaned against the railing and closed her eyes. The smoke curled around and she tilted her head back, staring up at the sky.

The stars were faint against the glow of the city lights, but they were there, distant and untouchable.

Kind of like you.

She saw you in everything she looked at.

Vi thought coming out here would help, but even with the cool air and the distance from the party, all she could think about was you. How you looked tonight. How you laughed. How you smiled.

She took another drag, her fingers trembling slightly as she held the cigarette to her lips. Maybe it was the nicotine.

She was barely halfway through her cigarette, the end of it glowing faintly as she took another drag. She’d been out here long enough for the faint chill to settle in her bones, but it was better than being inside. She stared down at the city below, considering the easiest way to slip out unnoticed.

Maybe she should just leave.

She didn’t have anything left to say to anyone here—not when every word felt like it was scraping its way up her throat.

Her hand tightened around the cigarette as she thought about it, but then—

“You started smoking?”

The sound of your voice behind her froze her in place.

For a moment, she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t. She stared straight ahead at the town, the distant lights blurring slightly in her vision. She almost thought she’d imagined it, but then the faint shuffle of your steps as you came closer made it all too real.

Finally, she turned, slowly and hesitantly. When her eyes met yours, she froze again. You were standing there, looking at her with an expression she couldn’t read all too well, your hands clasped loosely in front of you. You weren’t really dressed for the slight cold of the night, and she noticed the faint goosebumps along your arms, the way you shifted on your feet to keep warm.

“I, uh…” she stammered.

Vi glanced down at the cigarette in her hand like she’d forgotten it was there. She suddenly felt self-conscious, like she was holding something she shouldn’t be.

“Yeah,” she muttered quietly, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand. “Picked it up a while ago.”

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze flicking from her face to the cigarette and back again.

“I didn’t think you would,” you said softly, and there was something in your tone—disappointment? Sadness? Curiosity?—whatever it was… she didn’t like it.

Vi shrugged, trying to play it off, but her voice came out quiet. “Helps with the stress, I guess.”

When you took a step closer, Vi’s shoulders tensed slightly. But when you stopped just shy of standing shoulder to shoulder with her, leaving a short distance between the two of you, she immediately dropped the cigarette she’d been holding, even though she was no where near finished. The bottom of her shoe came down on it a second later, snuffing out the ember.

It was almost instinctive, the way she straightened slightly, as though your presence alone made her feel the need to be… better, cleaner, less like the person she’d become and more like the one she used to be when you were hers.

She shoved her hands back into her pockets, not knowing what to do with them, her jaw tightening as she glanced sideways to look at you, a flicker of a guilty look crossing her face.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” you say.

Vi blinked, looking at you more fully now. “Do what?”

“Pretend,” you said, your eyes meeting hers. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. It’s just… surprising, that’s all.”

“I don’t… really wanna give you another reason to think I’m someone you don’t recognize,” she admitted quietly, her forearms leaning against the railing as she waited for you to respond.

“I don’t think you’re a stranger, Vi,” you said finally, and she stiffened slightly. “It’s just—it’s been a while since we saw each other, so...”

Vi turned to face you, and for a second, she just stared, her breath catching in her throat like she forgot how to speak.

God, you looked even more beautiful up close. She could see how you’ve grown, how the years had softened and shaped you in ways she hadn’t been there to witness. The dim light traced the curve of your face, catching the slope of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

And her eyes stayed there—on your lips—longer than they should have, and all she could think about was how they used to feel against hers. How you used to kiss her so softly.

She wondered if you could feel it, this pull between you both, with everything unsaid and everything she wished she could take back. God, how she wanted to reach out, to close the distance and take your face in her hands. To kiss you like she used to, like no time had passed, like she hadn’t spent every day missing you.

“How long have you been back in town?” you asked softly, and your voice broke through her thoughts.

Vi blinked and forced herself to focus on your eyes instead of your lips. Your voice was gentle, tentative, like you were testing the waters, not really sure where this conversation might go.

“Not long,” she said finally. “A couple of days.”

You nodded, and she could see the way your lips pressed together, as if you were holding back some words.

“How… have you been?” Vi asked, her voice almost trembling with nerves.

It was quiet for a bit, and she felt like she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

Fuck, it was such a stupid thing to ask, she thought. It felt too small, too casual. But she didn’t know what else to say.

You turned your gaze to her. Her stomach twisted when she saw the way your lips parted, hesitating like you were choosing your words carefully. She hated that she didn’t know what was going through your mind. Once upon a time, she could read you like her favorite song, but now, it was like trying to decipher lyrics in a language she no longer spoke.

“I’ve been okay,” you said finally. “Busy, I guess. Definitely not as busy as you, but... um, I’ve been working with mom at her flower shop.”

Vi nodded slowly, her throat dry. Okay. It wasn’t the worst thing you could’ve said, but it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, either.

Honestly… she wanted you to tell her more. So much more. That… you missed her, maybe. That you thought about her. That maybe there was still some small part of your heart that belonged to her.

But she couldn’t push for that.

“I… I’ve actually just paid for a lease on this spot for a bookshop downtown, so…” you said next, your voice dipping into something shy.

You shifted your gaze, looking down at your hands for a moment before glancing back at Vi.

“A bookshop?” she repeated, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. “That’s… that’s amazing. Seriously.”

You felt a blush creeping up your neck at the sound of her voice. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way she said them, like she believed in you without hesitation, the same way she always used to. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to steady yourself under her gaze.

“It’s not open yet, but it’s coming together,” you continued, your words rushed. “I have to get supplies and… you know, order books to sell. I’m still getting it all set up next week…”

Vi nodded, her lips parting like she wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she just stared at you, the pride in her eyes unmistakable.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I… I’m really proud of you.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, glancing down at your hands again. You felt the urge to keep talking, to fill the space with something else. “After my book did well, I just thought… I’ve always wanted a book shop, anyway.”

“Yeah, I know…” Vi said quietly, almost like she was thinking aloud.

Her eyebrows lifted at the mention of your book.

“I-I mean—Your book,” she echoed, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “I saw it. Well, I didn’t just see it—I bought it. And read it. Twice, actually.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You read my book?”

“Of course, I did,” she said, like it wasn’t even a question.

Vi smiled at that, but there was something bittersweet in the curve of her lips. She wanted to tell you that she’d read it more than twice. That she kept it with her when she’d travel on tours, tucked away in her suitcase like a piece of you she couldn’t let go of.

But she bit her tongue, knowing that wasn’t something you needed to hear—not now, not after all this time.

“Did you like it?”

Vi looked at you, a slow and gentle smile creeping up on her face as she said, “Yeah.”

What she didn’t tell you was that she never actually had the heart to finish it.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to know how it ended. She did. She wanted to devour every word you’d written, the same way she always used to lose herself in you. She could hear you in every sentence, see you in the way you painted your characters and wove their lives together.

And she liked to pretend that as long as she hadn’t reached the end, there was still something left between you. That there was still more to the story.

So when she’d get close to the end, her hands would freeze.

It felt too final. Too much like closure.

And closure was the last thing she wanted.

Vi cleared her throat and shifted on her feet awkwardly, tearing her gaze away from you.

“Feels weird thinking Jayce and Mel are married now,” she said roughly, just something to say.

Her lips quirked into a weak smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes, which darted back to you despite her best efforts to keep them fixed on the town ahead of her.

You chuckled softly, and the sound of it sent a ripple through her chest, and she swore she could feel her heart break all over again.

“Yeah,” you said, leaning against the railing. “It feels like just yesterday they were arguing about who was better at chemistry, and now here they are.”

“Bet Jayce’s still a pain in the ass, though,” she muttered.

But her smile faded as she looked down at the ground, her scuffed boots suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. In reality, she just wanted to keep talking to you, to keep hearing your voice for as long as she can, not knowing when she’s ever going to get this chance again.

“Mel definitely agrees with that.”

Then, there was silence.

You moved slightly, your fingers trailing the edge of the railing as you watched her. She hadn’t changed, not really. But something about her was different. You couldn’t name it. It was like she was trying to keep herself contained, fighting to hide the parts of her she didn’t want you to see.

“How about you?”

Vi’s gaze flicked up to meet yours like you startled her from a daydream. She blinked, her fingers loosening around the railing, but she didn’t quite look at you. Not directly.

“Huh?” she breathed.

“How have you been?” you repeated.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out at first. Then, a small, shaky laugh slipped from her lips.

“I—” She cut herself off, her fingers running through her hair, trying to appear calm.

I miss you, she wanted to say.

Vi met your gaze for a split second, but then her eyes flickered downward again, a soft breath escaping her lips.

“I’ve been… alright,” she said. She glanced at you briefly, the faintest flicker nervousness—maybe even guilt—crossing her face before her gaze fell to the ground. “The band’s on a break right now, so… I’ll be home for a while.”

You nodded slowly, her words repeating in your head.

Home. It sounded strange coming from her. Vi was always moving. You remember nights when you’d wish she was home, remembering how you’d ask her in every call and text wondering when she’ll be back home, even if it’s just for a short while.

She glanced back up at you, her eyes searching yours like she was trying to figure out how you felt about her answer. The faint light from inside the party caught the edges of her hair, making her pink strands glow softly in the dim light. Again, she looked the same, and yet not at all. She looked older, not just in age, but in the way her shoulders sagged slightly, like the weight of her own world had finally caught up to her.

“Home, huh?” you said softly, the word tasting bittersweet on your tongue.

“Yeah.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet stretched between you, broken only by the muffled sounds of music and laughter spilling out from the party behind you.

Vi shifted on her feet all over again, her hands brushing the seam of her pants as she glanced down for a beat, then back up at you. She looked almost timid, carefully thinking and choosing her words before speaking.

“I’m, uh… staying at my dad’s house,” she mentioned out of nowhere.

Her eyes darted to yours briefly before she looked away again, scratching the back of her neck once more—it was a sign that she was nervous, you knew it too well.

She hesitated for a moment again, as though debating whether or not to say the next part, and then just blurted out, “Um… if you need help with that bookshop thing... I… I could help. You know, with lifting boxes, books or whatever. Anything. Whenever you need.”

The words tumbled out in a rush, and her cheeks flushed slightly as she stood there, waiting for you were going to say. It was such a clumsy offer, but it was also… sweet. You could tell from the way she said it, from the way her hands fidgeted at her sides, from the way her eyes flickered to yours and then back to the ground, that she wasn’t just trying to be polite.

You didn’t say anything at first, and in the silence, Vi’s nervousness seemed to grow. She bit the inside of her cheek, her gaze darting to yours again as if to gauge your reaction.

“I mean, no pressure,” she added quickly, her voice stumbling over the words. “I just thought… i-if you needed help or anything… I’m around.”

She forced another small, lopsided smile. And suddenly, it hit you how much she had changed.

But you only offered a small, polite smile back.

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you say softly, shaking your head. “You’re on a break—you should be… I don’t know. Resting? I think—”

But before you can finish, Vi cuts you off, “I want to.”

The words spill out of her with a force that surprises even her, and for a moment, she freezes, like she’s unsure if she sounded to desperate. Her jaw tightens, and she swallows hard before continuing, softer this time.

“I mean it, I really do. I want to help. I… I’d like to… Besides, I don’t really have any future plans anyways, so... It’ll keep me busy.”

Her voice trails off at the end, and she looks at you with those same earnest eyes.

For a moment, you’re not sure what to say.

You search her face, taking in the faint flush on her cheeks, the slight furrow of her brows, the way she looks like she’s bracing herself for rejection.

You exhale slowly, your heart caught somewhere between wanting to let her in and knowing the risks that come with it.

“Vi…” you start softly, but she shakes her head before you can go on, her lips curving into a faint, almost self-conscious smile.

You hesitate, the words catching on the edge of your tongue. Vi is standing there, her hands shoved deep into her pockets. Her eyes are locked on you, searching for some sort of an answer. She’s trying so hard to play it cool, but you’ve known her for too long to miss the way her shoulders tense, like she’s bracing herself for you to say no.

In Vi’s head, the words are quiet and repetitive saying, please say yes, please say yes, please…

You let out a slow breath, your lips curving into a small, tentative smile.

“Okay…” you say softly.

Fuck.

Her eyes flicker, catching the faintest glimmer of surprise, but she doesn’t move or speak, just waits, like she’s afraid to push too hard.

You glance away for a moment, smoothing your hands over the fabric of your dress, and then add, “If anything comes up… I’ll ask you first.”

Her shoulders relax as her lips curl into a grin—not a wide, toothy grin like the ones you remember from years ago, but a quiet, shy smile. It’s like she’s trying to play it cool, but the spark of happiness in her eyes betrays her.

“Yeah?” she says, like she’s making sure she didn’t mishear you.

You nod and Vi exhales a soft chuckle, looking down at her boots for a second before meeting your gaze again.

“Okay,” she murmurs. “Okay.”

“I, um… I should head back to the party,” you say softly, a bit hesitant, like you’re not sure whether you’re ready to leave or if you’re saying it just to give yourself permission to.

You give her a gentle smile.

“It was nice seeing you, Violet.”

Her name falls from your lips so easily, like it hasn’t been years since she’s heard you say it. And God, she swears she melts—completely, utterly melts—like the sound of her name coming from you is the softest, warmest thing in the world. Nobody really calls her that anymore. To everyone else, she’s just Vi. To you… she doesn’t even know if she’s still that girl, still your Violet, but the way you say it makes her feel like she could be.

She tries to play it cool, tries to keep herself from staring too hard at you or letting you see how badly she wants you to stay just a little longer, but it’s impossible. Everything about you—your voice, your smile, the way you’re standing there looking so fucking beautiful—it’s all driving her crazy.

Vi just nods, her voice coming out quieter than she intended.

“Yeah… yeah, you too.”

You give her one last smile before turning to leave, and Vi’s chest tightens as she watches you go, your dress swaying lightly as you walk back toward the noise.

She wants to call after you, to stop you, to ask you for just a few more minutes. But she doesn’t. Instead, she stays where she is, hands shoved into her jacket pockets, replaying the entire conversation, the way you said her name over and over.

The days passed slowly, each one dragging way more than the last, and Vi felt every excruciating second of it. She’d never been good at waiting—patience was never her strong suit—but this was quite possibly worse than anything she’d ever experienced. You were on her mind constantly, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw you standing on that balcony, your voice soft, smiling at her in that pretty dress.

And now… now she was stuck in silence, waiting for a sign, for anything, for you.

It was maddening.

She’d been sitting on your number for days, her thumb hovering over her phone screen more times than she could count.

She’d asked Jayce for it the day after the wedding, trying to keep her voice casual and her reasoning vague—something about wanting to just talk or check in, honestly, she couldn’t even remember what she’d said now. Jayce hadn’t questioned it, just handed it over with a knowing grin and a pat on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he’d said, and Vi had laughed it off at the time, pretending it didn’t matter as much as it did.

But now, sitting in her dad’s kitchen with her phone on the table in front of her, the wait was crushing her.

She’d tried to convince herself to wait for you to make the first move, but the days were stretching on, and every time her phone buzzed, her heart jumped, only to sink when it wasn’t you.

It was ridiculous, really, how much power you still had over her after all this time.

She felt like a teenager again, pacing her room, rehearsing what to say, overthinking every way you might respond.

Vi rubbed the back of her neck, glancing at the screen where your name stared back at her, the text box waiting for her to write something, anything. A call felt too forward, but a text… God, what was she even supposed to say? Hey, it was nice seeing you at the wedding? No, that sounded too formal. I can’t stop thinking about you and wish I had said more that night? Absolutely not.

She groaned and leaned back in her chair, glaring at the phone like it was mocking her. She’d faced stadiums full of screaming fans, interviews where every word mattered, even the pressure of writing entire albums with a deadline, and yet here she was, completely undone by the thought of texting you.

It seemed awfully familiar, though.

The last time she had been staring at her phone like this, wanting to text you, to call you, was when you broke up with her in New York.

Vi remembers every message, every call, every desperate attempt to reach you after your flight home. She regretted everything, and she carried it with her everyday. Even now, years later, she can still feel it—the silence on the other end of the line, the way your name sat at the top of her call log, unanswered, untouched, until eventually, it disappeared altogether.

She had tried to chase you that morning—had jolted awake to the blaring red numbers on the alarm clock, the kind of panic that claws its way up your throat, suffocating.

But she never made it on time.

The hangover from the night before had her glued to the bed for too long, her knuckles slightly bruised from punching that guy at the party, slowed her limbs and dulled her mind when she needed to be moving, running—to you. She remembered stumbling through her hotel room, throwing on last night’s pants, grabbing her keys with shaking hands, but by the time she had made it downstairs and shoved open the lobby doors, the realization had already sunk its teeth into her—she wasn’t going to make it.

Still, she had sent the text.

She had sat in the driver’s seat of her car, fingers gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles had gone white. She had stared at the screen, waiting, willing your name to light up in reply. But nothing came.

She tried calling. She had dialed your number over and over, barely able to breathe as the rings echoed in her ear, taunting her.

Voicemail.

Again.

And again. And again.

She had meant it. She wanted to tell you that she knew she had screwed up, that she had let the late nights and missed dates and unreturned calls and the fact that she barely came home piled up into something unbearable. That she had let you slip through her fingers when she should have been holding on for dear life.

But you never answered.

And then again later that night, after she had downed more drinks than she should have, after she had sat on the floor of her bathroom with her head in her hands, trying to piece together how everything had gone so wrong.

She promised. And she had kept that promise, had woken up with a headache, going through an interview she barely remembered, and then, the second she was free, she had called you.

And still, nothing.

The messages didn’t stop after that.

For weeks, she kept reaching out. The texts came in—some long, rambling apologies sent in the middle of the night, others as simple as “I miss you” or “Are you okay?” The calls never slowed, her thumb swiping over your name out of habit, out of desperation, out of some foolish, impossible hope that maybe this time you’d pick up.

But you never did.

And Vi was pretty sure it killed her.

It killed her to think that maybe, eventually, you would stop even reading them, stop seeing her name on your screen and feeling anything at all.

And yet, she still kept calling. Because she didn’t know how to stop. Because the thought of never hearing your voice again was somehow worse than hearing nothing at all, even if it was just your voicemail.

“I love you,” was her last message.

Vi let out a frustrated breath, running her hand through her hair as she stared at your name one more time. She didn’t want to seem desperate, but she also didn’t want to lose this chance, the tiny sliver of hope that had lodged itself in her chest since she’d seen you again.

She didn’t hear the door at first, her mind too distracted as she stared at her phone.

But then, the doorbell echoed through the house, dragging her out of her thoughts. Vi didn’t move at first, too paralyzed.

The silence stretched, and just as she began to wonder if she should check the door, Vander’s voice rang out from the other side of the house.

“Vi, it’s for you!”

Her breath caught in her throat.

Vi stood up slowly, her fingers still clutching her phone, her mind racing.

And then she heard it again. Her Vander’s voice, a little louder than usual, echoing from the front door.

“Vi, it’s for you!” Vander called out again.

Vi hesitated, frozen for a moment in the threshold of the room, unsure of what to do. She could hear muffled voices, something that sounded like small talk, but she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready for anyone—least of all you—to walk through that door, to see her and disrupt the little bubble she’d built around herself.

And then, just as she took a hesitant step toward the hallway, she heard it.

A woman’s voice, sweet and unmistakable, calling out in the distance. It was your mom.

“Vi, sweetie, it’s been a while,” she said warmly.

Why was your mom here? Was she here for you? Did you send her?

“Uh, hi,” Vi stammered, her voice cracking slightly as she stepped closer to the doorway.

Her throat felt dry, and she wasn’t sure where to put her hands, so they hung awkwardly by her sides. She tried to muster a smile, but it faltered slightly under her nerves.

Your mom stood there, her familiar warm smile softening the edges of Vi’s unease.

“It’s so nice to see you,” she said kindly, her voice light and easy, as if years hadn’t passed since the last time they’d spoken. “You’ve grown so much.”

Vi forced a nod, her lips twitching into a polite grin.

“T-Thank you,” she mumbled.

“Anyway,” she said, waving a hand as if she was brushing away any lingering awkwardness, “I actually came by to ask for a bit of help.”

“Oh?” she managed.

“Well,” your mom began, “____ has some books at the house that I’m supposed to drop off at her apartment, but I have to get to the flower shop soon. She told me to ask you to do it if you were available.”

She offered a sheepish smile, “Was thinking you could spare my back from lifting some of those boxes, you see.”

Vi wasn’t sure how long she stood there, frozen in place, as they sank in. Your mom’s voice was calm and casual, but to Vi, it felt like the ground had shifted beneath her.

You told her to ask me? The thought looped in her head.

“Oh, uh…” Vi started, the words faltering as she processed the request. She rubbed the back of her neck, and glanced briefly at Vander, who stood just behind her in the kitchen, pretending not to listen but very clearly eavesdropping. She caught his small, encouraging nod, and it pushed her to speak again. “Yes! Yeah, of course. I can do that.”

Your mom’s face brightened instantly.

“Oh, thank you, sweetie. That’s such a big help.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small slip of paper, handing it to Vi. “Here’s the address to her apartment. The boxes are over in the backyard. Just leave them wherever she needs them.”

Vi took the paper with trembling fingers, her gaze flicking down to the scrawled handwriting. It wasn’t yours, but it didn’t matter. Just the thought of stepping into your place, of touching something that belonged to you, made her chest ache with excitement.

Your mom beamed. “I appreciate it.”

Vi nodded, offering another polite smile, though her mind was already racing ahead. She watched as your mom said her goodbyes and left, the door clicking softly behind her.

Once the house was quiet again, Vander leaned against the counter, arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “You gonna be okay there, kid?”

Vi didn’t answer. She just stood in the doorway, staring at the door.

“Uh-huh.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and without a second thought, she spun on her heel, running toward her room. Vander’s low chuckle echoed faintly behind her, but she didn’t stop to say anything. Her mind was racing too fast, her body moving on autopilot.

Vi nearly stumbled as she made it to her room, her hand shooting out to grab the edge of her desk for balance. Her eyes immediately locked onto her old car keys lying on the surface. Her fingers curled tightly around the worn leather keychain, and in one quick motion, she stuffed the keys into her pocket and spun around to leave.

“You’re leaving now?” Vander teased from the kitchen as she all but bolted past him. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching her in amusement.

“I’ll be back later!” Vi called back over her shoulder, already halfway out the door.

Before he could respond, she was gone, the screen door slamming shut behind her. He shook his head, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he chuckled softly to himself.

“Kids,” he muttered, shaking his head as he turned back to whatever he’d been doing.

Vi moved quickly, her boots crunching against the grass as she ran to the next house, grabbing the boxes of books from the backyard like your mother had said, putting them in the trunk before getting in to start the truck.

As the engine roared as she turned her key, she gripped the wheel tightly, her palms slightly clammy against the worn leather. She let out a slow, shaky breath, her mind still spinning. The thought of seeing you again, even in such a simple, practical way, made her stomach twist into knots.

She adjusted the rearview mirror, catching a brief glimpse of herself, her wide eyes betraying the nerves she felt. With a soft huff, she shook her head, trying to steady herself.

“It’s just some boxes,” she murmured under her breath, as if saying it out loud might make it easier.

With that thought in her mind, Vi threw the truck into reverse and backed out of the driveway. She didn’t bother to turn on the radio as she drove, her hands tightening on the wheel, her foot pressing just a little harder on the gas as everything out the windows blurred past.

When Vi pulled up to your apartment building, she stayed in the driver’s seat longer than she’d planned, her fingers drumming anxiously against the steering wheel. The grumble of the truck’s engine had faded, leaving only the sound of her shallow breathing and the occasional creak of the old leather seat beneath her. She stared up at the building, the sunlight glinting off the windows, and felt her stomach twist. This shouldn’t be such a big deal—just a delivery, just a favor—but it pressed down on her like it meant everything.

She glanced down at herself, frowning at her choice of clothes. A faded hoodie she’d thrown on in a rush and a pair of worn jeans she’d been meaning to replace for years. Her sneakers were scuffed, the laces frayed at the edges. She tugged at the hem of the hoodie self-consciously, her lips pressing into a thin line. Why hadn’t she dressed up a little more? Why hadn’t she at least run a comb through her hair before bolting out the door?

The truck’s rearview mirror caught her eye, and she tilted it down slightly to get a look at herself. Her hair was messy, not in the cool, effortless way she might’ve liked. Her hair grew longer, but she’s been meaning to get a hair cut from her hair stylist before the band took a break. She reached up to smooth it down, her fingers catching on a knot. With a frustrated sigh, she shook her head and let her hand drop.

Get a grip, Vi, she thought. It’s not a date. You’re dropping off some boxes, that’s it.

But even as she said the words, they felt hollow. She wanted to look good for you. She wanted you to see her and—what? Be impressed?

With a heavy sigh, Vi shoved the door open and climbed out of the truck. She grabbed the first box from the passenger seat, balancing it carefully against her hip as she slammed the door shut with her foot. Her keys jingled softly in her pocket as she made her way toward the building, her shoes scuffing against the pavement.

The elevator ride felt like it lasted an eternity. Vi shifted the box in her arms, her palms growing damp from the cardboard’s edges. She stared at the numbers lighting up above the door, each floor bringing her closer. Her heart was pounding again, and she cursed herself for it.

When the elevator doors slid open, she stepped out and hesitated, her eyes scanning the numbers on the doors in the halls until she found yours. Standing there, just a few feet away, she felt her resolve falter again. She reached up to knock, then paused, glancing down at herself one last time. The hoodie, the jeans, her hair—she sighed, knowing there wasn’t much she could do about it now.

Finally, Vi forced herself to step forward, swallowing the lump in her throat as she raised her knuckles to the door and knocked.

The door creaked open a moment later, and Vi’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t thought about what she’d say, but all those half-formed ideas completely disintegrated the second she saw you.

You were standing there in a loose tank top that dipped low enough to hint at your curves, your cleavage, paired with a pair of shorts that revealed more of your legs than Vi could handle seeing without losing her composure.

And she wasn’t ready for this at all.

Your eyes widened when you saw her, your body jolting slightly, not expecting her of all people to be on the other side of the door at this hour.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, taking a step back out of instinct. “Vi. Y-You’re early.”

Vi blinked, trying to force her brain to catch up with the situation, but her eyes kept drifting down your body, betraying her. Her gaze flitted from the flush in your cheeks to the slight curve of your collarbone and lower before she caught herself and looked away, focusing on the box in her hands.

“I, uh…” Vi cleared her throat, her voice suddenly hoarse. “Yeah, I—guess I didn’t realize how fast I’d get here.”

She wanted to curse herself for how awkward she sounded, but she couldn’t seem to focus on anything except how close you were, how the faint scent of your perfume drifted into her nose.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, clearly flustered, your smile shy but warm.

“I didn’t think you’d be here so soon,” you said, glancing down at yourself briefly like you were suddenly self-conscious. “I—uh, I didn’t really dress for company.”

Vi shook her head quickly, the words tumbling out before she could think them through.

“Oh! No, you’re—you look…” She stopped and bit down on the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to regain her footing. “You look fine. Really great, I mean. Not that I was looking—I-I… Just—uh, it’s fine. You’re fine.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Not smooth. At all. The heat in her cheeks was unmistakable now, and she wanted nothing more than to melt and disappear into the floor. You let out a soft laugh, and it was warm, teasing, in a way that made Vi’s heart flutter.

“Well, come in,” you said, stepping aside and gesturing for her to enter. “You’re already here, so…”

Vi nodded as she stepped in. She kept her head down, her jaw tight, her fingers gripping the box pretending to focus on it instead of you.

You stepped aside, letting her cross the threshold into your apartment, and she immediately felt her nerves spike. It was cozy with soft warm lighting and shelves packed full of books and little frames of photos you’ve taken that she wasn’t apart of. She found herself lingering by the door, holding the box tightly as her eyes wandered more. A dark blue blanket was draped over the back of the couch, your yellow mug from earlier sat on the coffee table, and she could faintly smell of, maybe, vanilla or something sweet in the air.

“I—I’m gonna go get dressed,” you said suddenly, moving awkwardly on your feet like her being in the room was throwing you off your balance too. You gestured vaguely to your tank top and shorts, cheeks slightly pink. “I know I only asked if you could drop those off, but I’d really like to get them to the shop as soon as possible, so...”

Vi only nodded, her mouth too dry to form a proper response, her hands gripping the box tighter than necessary.

“Yeah, no problem,” she muttered, barely hearing her own voice over her thoughts. “I-I can drive us there if you want.”

You gave her a quick smile and turned to head down the short hallway toward what she assumed was your bedroom.

And Vi tried, really, really tried to keep her focus elsewhere, but her resolve crumbled the second you walked away.

Her gaze shamelessly dropped down to your ass, trailing after you as your hips swayed naturally with each step, her brain short-circuiting at the sight. Oh, how she wished she was allowed to pull you close like she used to, pressed your ass against her front, her hands on your hips, her lips against the side of your neck, kissing and licking and marking—

Fuck. Stop. Stop.

She tore her eyes away, her face heating up in an instant. What the hell was she doing? She wasn’t seventeen anymore, and yet here she was, acting like some lovesick kid with no self-control.

But, really, how could she not? It had been years, and somehow you were sexier—no, even more beautiful now than you were back then. You always had this effect on her, and she learned today that it has never gone away.

She sighed and glanced up at the ceiling, trying to distract herself by taking in more of your apartment. Everything here was you. She could picture you curled up on that couch, a book in hand, completely at ease. She could picture you at the little kitchen counter, maybe making coffee in the mornings, the sunlight spilling in through the window. It was such a simple, lovely image that Vi could almost feel herself getting lost in it, wanting to be a part of it in some way.

Vi set the box down gently by the couch, glancing around your cozy apartment one more time before lowering herself onto the cushions. She sank into them, her fingers drumming absently on her knees as she tried not to think too much. But waiting like this, surrounded by all the little pieces of your life, made it impossible not to.

She let out a slow breath and ran a hand through her hair, trying to keep her thoughts in check. The sound of your door creaking open snapped her out of it, and she instinctively looked up, her breath catching the moment she saw you. She didn’t even realize she was staring until her chest tightened again, a small voice in the back of her head reminding her that she had no right to look at you like this anymore.

“Mel dropped some books off yesterday too,” you said, your voice pulling her out of her thoughts. “I’ll grab them, and then we can take all of it down to the shop.”

Vi nodded dumbly, her throat feeling dry as she struggled to find a coherent response.

You turned toward a small side table where a several of other books were stacked, and Vi took the moment to glance at you again, her chest aching as the reality of it all hit her. And all she could think about was how fucking beautiful you looked. As you bent slightly to pick up the stack, Vi clenched her fists against her thighs, forcing herself to look away.

She followed you on your way out, silently wishing she could stay in there a little longer to explore what else you’ve been up to, to see everything that was connected to you.

But she couldn’t anymore, not when you closed the door and locked it quickly behind her.

You stood beside her in the elevator, close enough that she could catch the faintest trace of your perfume. It was practically the same scent she remembered, the one that used to linger on her clothes after you’d hugged her goodbye. Vi glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, watching as you fidgeted with the strap of your bag, clutching the books Mel dropped off to donate to your chest carefully, and your lips pressed together in a thin line.

Neither of you spoke.

Vi was nervous.

She wanted to say something but she didn’t really know how. It was a strange, being quiet, and she hated how much she liked it—just being near you, even if it wasn’t the same as before.

The elevator dinged softly as it reached the ground floor, and the doors slid open to the parking lot. Vi stepped out first, holding the box carefully, and you followed close behind. Her boots scuffed against the concrete as she led the way toward her truck, parked in one of the far corners next to a big tree.

When the truck came into view, your steps slowing just slightly. Vi noticed immediately, glancing back at you with a questioning look, but you didn’t dare to say anything. You just stood there, staring at the familiar sight of her old, beat-up pickup, the one she used to drive you around in. She could see it in your eyes—your eyebrows rising, the way your lips parted just slightly, as if you were about to say something but thought better of it.

Vi remembered everything about that truck—how she’d spent weeks fixing it up herself in high school after Vander brought it home for her on her sixteenth birthday, how proud she’d been when it finally roared to life. She remembered the late night drives, the way you’d slide across the bench seat to lean against her as she steered with one hand. She remembered the drive-in movies, the cheap popcorn, and the way you’d press a kiss to her cheek when you thought she wasn’t paying attention. She remembered her arm resting behind your head as she leaned in to distract you from that movie just past the window, her lips pressing against yours before moving down to your jaw, your neck, until she had you on your back against the bench seat of the truck, her mouth exploring your body excitedly, enjoying the feeling of your hands holding on to her like you depending on it.

And she wondered if you remembered it the same way she did.

You smiled faintly, but you still didn’t say anything. Instead, you walked up to the truck slowly, your hand brushing along the edge of the faded red paint.

Vi hesitated, feeling her pulse quicken. “You okay?”

You nodded softly. Your gaze lingered on the truck, tracing over every detail, every dent and scratch that time hadn’t erased.

Vi cleared her throat, forcing a shaky laugh to break the silence. “She’s still holding up,” she said, her voice softer than she intended. “Vander fixed her up when he found out I was coming home.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “It’s still the same.”

Vi wanted to ask what you were thinking—if seeing the truck brought back all the same memories for you as it did for her—but she bit her tongue.

She didn’t want to push.

The drive to the shop felt a little longer than it actually was.

Vi gripped the steering wheel of her truck a little tighter, her palms slightly clammy against the worn leather. The ride was quiet, almost painfully so, but she didn’t want to break the silence—not when she was afraid any word out of her mouth would sound awkward or clumsy, maybe. But every so often, her eyes darted toward you, sitting there in the seat next to her, looking out the window.

You didn’t say much either, only the directions to the location, and that only made Vi more nervous. Were you nervous, too? Or maybe just tired?

Your hands rested lightly in your lap, your fingers brushing against the fabric of your jeans as if you needed something to do. She wanted to ask what you were thinking, wanted to know what it felt like to finally see your dream of a book shop finally coming true, but the words died in her throat.

So instead, she just focused on the road.

When the truck finally pulled into the parking lot of your shop, Vi parked and cut the engine. She stepped out quickly, wanting to busy herself with something, anything, and moved to the back of the truck to grab the boxes of books you’d brought along. You followed and as you reached for one of the smaller boxes, Vi stopped you with a gentle shake of her head.

“I’ve got it,” she said softly, lifting the heavier boxes with ease. “Just lead the way.”

You nodded, your eyes darting to her for a brief moment before you started toward the front door. The shop was was in a nice spot really, tucked between a florist and a bakery, a nice park and garden across the street, but even from the outside, Vi could see the potential in it. The windows were clean, sunlight streaming through and lighting up the empty space inside.

When you unlocked the door and stepped in, Vi followed eagerly. The smell of fresh wood and paint filled the air, and even though there wasn’t much inside yet—just a few shelves and a small counter—she could already see it coming together.

“This is… wow,” she murmured, setting the boxes down near one of the shelves. “It’s cozy.”

You gave her a small smile, your hands brushing nervously against the hem of your shirt as you moved toward the shelves.

“It’s still a work in progress,” you said quietly. “A lot of work, actually. I’m waiting on more shelves to come in, and I still need to set up the counter, but… it’s a start.”

Vi nodded, watching as you walked around the place, your hands ghosting over the edges of the shelves like you were already imagining them full of books.

She could see the pride in your eyes, also with a tiny hint of worry, and she wanted to tell you how amazing it all was, how proud she was of you for making it happen. But instead, she swallowed the words.

Vi leans against one of the bookshelves like she belongs there, casual and easy, hands tucked into her pockets, the stretch of her shirt over her toned arms doing nothing to help your already scattered thoughts. Her smirk is just a little lopsided, just enough to make your stomach flip before she nods her head toward the unopened boxes in the corner of the shop.

“I can help set those up if you want,” she offers softly, like she hasn’t been gone all these years. Like she hasn’t spent a lifetime on the road, playing sold-out shows, living a life far removed from the one you built here.

You try not to stare, but it’s impossible.

God, she looks good. Too good.

It’s infuriating how effortless it is for her, how she can just stand there and make your mind short-circuit, even knowing you shouldn’t be thinking of her in that way anymore. The warm sunlight coming through the shop windows catches the sharp angle of her jaw, the scar over her brow, the faded pink of her hair, a little messy, a little longer, like she’s run her hands through it one too many times today. She’s older now, more refined in some ways, but she’s still Vi—you could see it.

You swallow, forcing yourself to snap out of it, crossing your arms over your chest like it’ll somehow shield you from how much she still gets under your skin.

“I mean…” You glance at the unopened boxes, pretending to consider it when really. “If you don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Vi grins, and it’s so damn charming, so easy, that you nearly roll your eyes at yourself for reacting to it. “Nope. Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“Alright,” you murmur, more to yourself than her. “Just… don’t make a mess.”

Vi chuckles warmly, almost teasing as she pushes off the bookshelf and moves closer.

“No promises,” she says, and the way she’s looking at you makes you think she’s not just talking about the shelves.

And you—well, you’re not sure if that terrifies you or if you’ve been waiting for it all along.

Vi keeps showing up.

At first, it’s under the guise of helping—the heavy lifting, the putting together more furniture until the shop starts to take real shape.

The first couple of weeks, she barely takes a break, sleeves rolled up, hands smudged with dust and the occasional splinter on her calloused hands, helping with hauling in shipments of new books before you can even get to the door, without you even needing to ask. She’d wear a fitted shirt or a tank top sometimes, showing off her strong arms as she worked—and you knew for a fact she was doing it on purpose.

You watch her from behind the counter sometimes, the way she moves like she’s so at home here. You spend your days organizing books while she works on all the heavy stuff, sneaking glances when you think she won’t notice.

Sometimes she catches you, and she’ll smirk in a way that used to make you weak in the knees back in high school, and you have to turn away quickly, pretending you weren’t staring.

You tell yourself it’s nothing, that it’s just nice having an extra set of hands around.

But the shop is nearly done now—the shelves are up, the cozy reading corner is arranged just right, most books in their place—and Vi is… still here.

She stops by in the mornings, sometimes bringing coffee just the way you like them, sometimes walking in just because she was wondering how you were doing. She lingers, finds reasons to stay even when there’s no more work to do.

And you let her.

Maybe because it’s comfortable… and familiar.

Or maybe because, deep down, some part of you doesn’t want her to stop showing up.

One evening, as you’re stacking a few last-minute books onto a display, Vi leans against the counter, watching you like she’s been doing all day.

“So,” she says, and you can hear the grin in her voice before you even look up. “Think you’re finally ready to open?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, a small smile tugging softly at the corner of your lips. “I think so.”

Vi nods, eyes lingering on you longer than they should, like she’s about to say something else—something important—but instead, she just pushes off the counter, stretching slightly.

“Good,” she says. “It’s all looking really good.”

“Thanks, Vi,” you smile softly. “You know, I should really pay you… for the work you did, I mean. You did a lot of it and—”

Vi’s lips quirk into a smirk, “Yeah? Gonna put me on payroll?”

You shake your head, feeling suddenly shy under her stare, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean it—”

“C’mon, don’t do that.” She cuts you off with a quiet scoff, shaking her head. “It’s fine really. I just… put some shelves together. Carried a few boxes.”

Vi watches you carefully, her smirk fading into something softer. She looks down for a second, her hand coming up to scratch the back of her neck, thinking about what to say.

“You don’t owe me anything,” she says quietly. “Besides, I told you I wanted to help.”

And the way she says it—the way her gaze lingers on you, the way her voice dips slightly—makes your breath hitch for a second.

Because it almost sounds like she means more than just the shop.

Like she’s saying, I wanted to be here. I wanted to see you.

“I… still feel like I should do something…” Your voice trails off as you look away from her.

The tiniest of pouts plays at your lips as you cross your arms, before glancing back up at Vi. And damn it, she misses it. She misses you.

She smiles despite herself, the corners of her lips curving up before she can stop it.

“Well, you could come to Vander’s this Friday,” Vi suggests, trying to keep her voice light, casual.

You blink, a little surprised by the suggestion.

“Vander’s?” you repeat.

Vi clears her throat and adjusts her footing, her hand coming to scratch the back of her neck again, “T-The band is playing a small set… for, uh, Benzo’s birthday…”

“Benzo’s birthday?” you ask, your voice a little softer than before.

Her smile falters, just a bit, as if she’s not sure how to tell you this.

“Yeah… I just thought, I’d really like it if you came,” Vi continues, her words trailing off, her eyes softening as she catches the way you’re watching her.

You pause for a moment, letting her words sink in, and you realize there’s something more to this invitation than she’s letting on.

And you didn’t know if you should accept it.

“I didn’t know Benzo’s birthday was coming up,” you reply with a soft laugh.

To be fair, you haven’t even seen him or Vander in a while ever since… well…

“It’d be nice… to have you there,” Vi says again, a little more tentative this time.

The truth is, you’re scared.

Scared of what it might mean to show up at her show, to step into her world again, even for just a night, remembering how hard it had been the last time you were together.

But, you can’t help yourself, and you say…

“Okay,” you say softly despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. “I’ll be there.”

Then, she smiles—genuine, full, like you’ve just given her something she wasn’t sure she’d get back. “Really? That’d be—yeah, that’d be great.”

“Friday then,” you say with a soft smile.

Vi nods, a little too eagerly, her whole body seeming to react before her mind even catches up.

“Mhm. Friday.”

Her voice is quiet but sure like a promise she intends to keep, like she’d carve the date into stone if you asked her to.

And god, the way she’s looking at you drives you absolutely fucking insane.

After all these years—she still looks at you like that. Like she’d do anything you asked her to. Like she’d drop everything if you told her to stay.

“I’ll see you then,” you murmur.

And Vi just stands there, watching you, her smile lingering long after you’ve turned away.

Fuck. She’s still very much in trouble.

series masterlist | next chapter (coming soon)

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[aphroditeinthesea]

“ but (brother) i love him ”

jason grace x daughter of poseidon ⚡️

a/n i saw someone wrote a fic with a super similar premise, i swear im not copying them, i just had bad timing of posting this

⚠️ swearing & references to sex and pregnancy

⋆｡˚ 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝 ⋆｡˚

When Percy’s younger sister had joined the Seven on the Argo II, he hadn't expected to line up any boundaries. After all, why would any of the guys go after his baby sister. Even if she was only a year younger than him. However, that was until a day that had started like all the rest. Everyone had had breakfast that morning, gone over some plans, but when y/n subconsciously put her hair into a ponytail,

Percy looked up, “what’s that?”

Y/N froze as she locked eyes with her brother, “what’s what?”

He glanced around at everyone else. He raised an eyebrow, “on your neck?”

She nervously laughed, briefly looking towards the bewildered Jason, “oh, that?” she smiled, “I fell out of bed and hit my neck on my nightstand.”

“Really?” Percy crossed his arms, “when? That must’ve really hurt to have left two bruises.”

She nodded, puffing air out of her mouth, “yeah, it was yesterday. Let me tell you, it was a doozy.”

“I’m surprised you didn't mention before if it hurt that much.”

“Well, I, uh, forgot about it.”

“You forgot about it?” he nodded, “did you not, I don't know, look in a mirror?”

“Yeah, I was having a bad hair day, so-”

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth interjected, “you guys are actually painful to listen to.”

Piper agreed, “y/n, who was it?”

She stuttered, looking at everyone. Excuses cluttered her mind, not one seeming good enough to tell her brother. She took a deep breath before speaking again, “myself?”

“What the fuck?”

“It was me.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Jason. Y/N eyes were torn between the two boys, she started wondering if Jason was actually going to be murdered right there and then.

“You made out with my sister?”

The blond locked eyes with the daughter of Poseidon, “no- technically, yes, but not just that, I- uhm.”

“Percy,” she added.

“What do you mean, not just that?”

Jason shook his head, “I don't mean, you know, I just mean that it wasn't like a one time thing-”

“What?”

“Percy-”

“Not like that, oh my gods,” the son of Jupiter panicked.

“What do you mean by that, weather boy?”

“I-”

“I’m having his baby!” Y/N finally said. Everyone stared at her in shock. Both Jason and Percy had gone completely silent while the former tried to speak, but was at a loss for words.

“You- what- but-”

She slowly nodded before bursting into laughter, “no, I’m totally not, but you should see your faces.”

Percy held his forehead, “Y/N.”

Jason let out a breath, “that wasn't funny.”

“Come on, Jase,” she smiled, “it was kinda funny.”

“Y/N, that was not at all funny,” her brother responded, trying to stifle a laugh, “as much as I hate to agree with the perv,” he sent a glare towards Jason.

Her smile dropped, “I was just trying to get you to listen to me,” she defended, “have you even considered how I feel about this?”

“I’m just looking out for you,” he responded, “as your older brother, I know what’s best.”

“Oh my gods,” she exclaimed in disbelief, “you're ridiculous, I���m leaving.” She shook her head before running off to her room. She frowned as she thought about how her brother could be ignorant to her feelings. She crawled into her bed, wrapping herself in the covers. She tried to hold in tears as her anger grew. She wanted to scream and yell at her brother about how much the son of Jupiter meant to her.

The door creaked open, followed by a soft, “hey.” She didn't look up as she pretended to be asleep, “I know you're awake.”

She grumbled, “go away, Perce.”

“I overreacted about you and Jason,” he admitted, “I’m sorry.”

She sat up, “you don't get it.”

“I don't,” he nodded, “but, it’s not like dad’s around a lot, I’m the one who should be protecting you.”

“You can protect me,” she added, “but not from the boy I love.”

Percy raised his eyebrows, “you love him?”

She sighed, “I really do.”

He looked away for a second, not speaking, “you should be with him, y/n.”

“You mean that?”

He nodded, “of course, but if he hurts you, I’ll make his shroud myself.”

She laughed, “okay, but I trust him not to.”

“Good,” he smiled, “I’ll leave you alone now.”

Seconds after he left, a blond boy walked in, “y/n?”

She looked up at her boyfriend, grinning, “hi, baby.”

His cheeks turned pink at the nickname, “what did Percy say?” He asked as he sat down on her bed.

“He's okay with us, as long as you don't hurt me,” she giggled.

He softly chuckled, “I won't,” he slowly moved a piece of hair behind her ear, “I love you.”

“That's what I told him.”

The door opened again, “time’s up.”

They both looked up, “what?” she spoke.

“I’m okay with you two dating,” he turned his attention to Jason, “but you still screwed my sister.”

“Percy!”

[yammpi3]

𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙆𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙤 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙞 [𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨]

synopsis. You were a former hero commission hero but when you made a simple mistake in a mission the commission sent you on they deemed you unfit and fired you, hence made you out to be a villain to the public. A few years later you meet your old partner Hawks out on his nightly patrol then you guys make up….made out .. :3

— content warnings. sorta plot with smut, eating out, p to v, kissing, sex sex sex, not really coordinated well? i think? dom/sub hawks

— W.C 2.3k

— authors note. This has been rotting in my drafts for like a year now but i thought i should post something…so..heres this!! Im rlly sorry if it’s formatted kinda weirdly, imo the smut is also written sorta weird but i think thats just me..overthinking it ANYWAYS enjoy reading <33 also Thank you FOR 100 FOLLOWERS?? i didn’t expect my blog would reach that much so TYTY.

Hawks sighed heavily, leaning back in his office desk chair, elbows propping on the armrests. He rubbed his tired eyes, tilting his head back, attempting to avoid eye contact with the stack of paperwork that lay out before him.

Every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion. It felt like he had been sitting in this same spot for days, poring over reports and documents in an endless cycle of busy work. As the number-two hero, the public demanded nothing but his very best. They expected him to always be alert and swift in responding to any crisis, dealing with volatile situations and dangerous villains with calm precision. 

But they didn't see this part. They didn't witness the countless late nights spent filling out forms, compiling statistics, and attending meetings after meetings. No cameras captured the headaches induced by mind-numbing bureaucracy or the frustration of dealing with petty politics. This was the hidden cost of his elevated rank—an incessant paper-pushing grindstone that wore him down more than any actual fight ever could. 

 

Slowly dragging his hands down his face, Hawks sighed again as the aches and knots of tension complained loudly in his neck and shoulders. For a brief moment, he considered using his feathers to shred just a few stray documents, to do less work. 

He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his tense muscles, his wings fluttering restlessly behind him. All he wanted at that moment was to forget. To spread his wings and fly through open skies, feeling the wind ruffle through his feathers as he left his troubles far below.

 

Tilting his chair back as far as it would go, he gave a long-suffering look at the piles of work that towered precariously around him, silently pleading with it all to spontaneously catch fire or simply vanish into thin air. With a resigned sigh, Hawks dropped all four chair legs back to the floor and reluctantly pulled the topmost file towards him once more, bracing himself for another grind of the ever-turning wheel.

Hawks rubbed his tired eyes once more, feeling his motivation drain away with each mundane paragraph he read. At this rate, he'd be here all night and well into the morning. With a groan, he tossed the file back onto the pile, temporarily defeated. Maybe a quick break was what he needed to recharge his focus. 

 

Pushing away from his desk, Hawks stood and stretched out his cramped body to its full height, his wings unfolding to their full span. A midnight flight around the city was just what he needed. The cool night air and darkened streets would do wonders for clearing his cluttered mind. 

Stepping out onto his office balcony, Hawks took a few steps back, then launched himself into the sky with his wings. He flew high, circling up towards the crowning heights of the skyscrapers that shone below. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath of the fresher air, feeling tensions beginning to melt away already. 

 

As he glided back down towards street level, Hawks scanned the sidewalks lazily while lost in thought. He was mulling over the options when movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. 

Your shadow slipped between alleyways, scanning for any civilians in the area. Suddenly flashes of red nearing a rooftop drew your eye—a familiar winged silhouette.

Going on a nearby rooftop, you spotted Hawks looking down, trying to find who or what he saw. 

You and Hawks used to know each other pretty well in your teen years when you dreamed of being a great hero. So when you were selected by  the Commission to become one, you were ecstatic. But from day one, Keigo Takami made things... complicated.

You two went way back to your training days, though you mostly kept your head down back then. Once in the pro scene though, Takami always found ways to rile you up during sessions, whether with sly taunts or risky stunts that pushed protocol to the limit. 

Part of you wanted to throttle that arrogant asshole, but another part couldn't deny the thrill he made you feel. 

Late nights spent training turned into more..private scenarios. For a time, it was nice to find solace in each other. But then came the ruling—you'd been deemed "not hero material" after one mistake, ruining your future. That's when Takami tried to connect with you again, but the hero commission wouldn't even allow him to be close to you to not damage the reputation he already made with the public. 

"You're up rather late for a hero," you whispered directly into his ear, barely suppressing a chuckle at his startled flinch. Golden eyes met yours warily, yet he made no move to escape our intimate embrace. 

"I'm off duty," was his measured reply. "And you?" Smoke clung thick to the memories in his eyes. 

Your fingers, carefully gloved, traced the proud arch of his wings, feeling tension bleed away slowly. "Care for some company, Keigo?"

He held your gaze steadily, considering. At last he nodded, extending a hand. “Not that I can shake you off anyway,” he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

You sat together on the secluded rooftop, settling close against one another. As you caught up, you both couldn't help but feel deprived of each other's touch; it had been far too long since you'd seen one another face to face. Sure, he'd heard about you through others in the commission, but being here together was different somehow. 

When your voices at last fell silent, a gentle touch turned your chin to meet Hawks' searching eyes. "Y/N…" he murmured, leaning in so your faces were mere inches apart. One of his wings stretched out to block any view from the street below, enveloping you both in its feathery embrace. 

Hawks closed the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft yet insistent kiss.

One hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, as the other wrapped around your waist to draw you flush against his body. You felt even better than he remembered. 

 

When your lips parted under him, Hawks held back a groan as he rested his forehead against yours as you both panted for air. Wisps of steam rose between the two of you in the chill night. 

If he tasted you fully, it would undo his last shred of willpower.

“You're going to be the end of me.." Hawks murmured thickly. Already, he ached to have more, but taking you here against the railing would be too brazen, even for his recklessness. 

"Then take me somewhere more...private then," you shot back in a sinful whisper. 

With a sly smile, Hawks swept you into his arms in a bridal carry, wings already prepared for launch. "Hold on tight.”

 

Hawks kicked off from the roof of the building and took flight, relishing your tight grip around his shoulders. The thrill of having you in his arms sent adrenaline surging through his veins. 

He landed lightly on the balcony of his high-rise apartment, still holding you securely against his chest. Your masked face was turned up to meet his gaze.

"I.. I really missed you," Hawks murmured, pressing you back against the wall with his body. He caged you in with outspread wings, feathers gently ghosting your skin. 

 

"Me too.." you replied. Your hands came up to roam his body just as eagerly.

Hawks captured your lips in a searing kiss, conveying all his pent-up needs and desires without restraint. This was wrong on so many levels, and yet he'd never felt more alive. 

 

Kicking open the balcony doors, he swept you inside and laid you down on his plush sofa. His hands worked busily to remove your mask, wanting nothing between you and him; clothing fell piece by piece until nothing was left. 

 

"Say you want this," Hawks pleaded roughly, desperate for your answer. 

Your intoxicating laughter rang out as you pulled him against your body. "I want all of you, Keigo." 

Hawks' hands roamed your body eagerly, relearning every curve as his lips traveled along your jawline. You sighed contentedly, arching into his touch while undoing the fastenings of his hero costume with practiced expertise. 

 

Slowly, methodically, he kissed his way down the delicate column of your throat. Hawks lingered there to suckle your rapid pulse, eliciting breathy moans. His name falling from your lips in such a manner sent fresh spikes of arousal through him.

 

As you lay bare under him, Hawks paused to simply take in the sublime vision of your naked form, illuminated by the moonlight. "You're so..beautiful," he whispered in awe, tracing idle patterns upon your sensitized flesh.

 

Your hands delved into the downy feathers at his wings' bases, eliciting a guttural groan. The way you caressed his most sensitive areas, teasing but not quite enough, tested Hawks' faltering control. He nipped lightly at the swell of your breast in retaliation.

Tracing a tortuous path down your torso with wet kisses and love bites, Hawks' fingers dipped between your thighs. He chuckled at discovering your slick arousal, already swollen and desperate for friction. Slowly, he circled your clit, gathering your arousal onto his fingers.

 

"Please..." you begged wantonly, bucking your hips to chase more contact. But Hawks would loathe to grant your unspoken request so easily. He continued his maddening ministrations, coaxing you higher and higher with expert precision. Only when your keening cries bordered on anguish did he finally decide to sink two fingers deep inside.

 

The powerful rhythm he set drove you swiftly towards the peak. Hawks swallowed your hoarse screams of completion, savoring your intimate essence on his tongue.

"I've missed this..," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

 

Then his tongue delved into your slick arousal with deft, practiced strokes. Your responsive sighs and the way you grabbed Takami's hair only spurred him onward in his devotions. 

 

He alternated between broad, flat licks and focused flicks directly over your clit. When Keigo very lightly grazed his teeth along your folds, you keened and bucked again into his ministrations wildly. He hummed his approval, sending vibrations through your core.

 

It did not take long for you to climb once more towards the precipice, unraveling beautifully beneath his skilled mouth. Hawks drank deeply from your release, prolonging each aftershock with slow caresses of his tongue. Only when your quivering stopped did he withdraw, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he cleaned his glistening chin. 

 

As he swirled his tongue around his lips, savoring the last hints of you, you gazed up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Your chest still heaved in languid aftershocks of pleasure, your limbs boneless and slack upon the plush cushions.

"Come here," you beckoned hoarsely, crooking a finger. Your body cried out to be filled after such thorough worship, muscles reflexively clenching around nothing inside. 

 

Hawks obeyed without hesitation, crawling up to drape himself over your welcoming form once more. You gripped his shoulders firmly, flipping your positions with a playful show of wiry strength, and smiled down at him wickedly. 

 

Grasping his aching length and rubbing the tip of his cock had him seeing stars. Hawks groaned unabashedly.

Slowly, you let him inside, savoring each velvet glide. Hawks bucked helplessly, claws scrabbling for purchase against the cushions as your sensual walls milked his length.

 

The pleasure you drew from Hawks was exquisite torture. Each roll of your hips sent fresh shockwaves through his twitching member, shattering his composure. He was reduced to begging, his nails scratched weakly at your thighs as you rode him to the brink. 

 

"Please...I need to come," Hawks gasped, moving his hips upward in frantic little thrusts. His cock throbbed painfully with the desperate need for release. 

You smiled down at him cruelly. "Beg for it." Your lips formed the words deliciously slowly, knowing their effect.

Hawks keened, wings fluttering uselessly. "Please let me cum p-please I wanna cum, I need..to please..” 

 

Suddenly, you bore down on him, grinding your pelvis against his in brutal circles. The new angle sent Hawks reaching his high with a raw cry. 

 

You quickly let him pull out as his cock pulsed and thick ropes of seed spilled forth, splattering his taut stomach in pearly ribbons. Hawks shuddered through wave after wave; your continued help milking every last drop from him. 

Breathless and spent, he could only lay pliantly as you leaned down to collect his essence on your fingers. Your wicked tongue flicked out to taste, making Hawks twitch anew in oversensitivity.

 

You smiled softly, your expression gentling as you gazed upon Hawks' flushed, panting form. His chest still heaved mightily in the aftermath of his climax.

 

Reverently, you traced light patterns on his ribs and pecs with delicate fingers, soothing away any last tremors. Hawks hummed appreciatively at your tender touch, grasping one of your hands to press a lingering kiss to the palm. 

 

"Come here, Birdie," you murmured, beckoning him into your open embrace. Hawks complied readily, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a contented sigh. Your legs tangled together comfortably as his wings folded around you both like a feathery blanket.

No threats of capture or duty rules could penetrate the sanctity of that moment. There, held securely within your arms, Hawks felt at once protected yet free—freed from the shackles of self-doubt and expectation. He belonged, body and soul, to one who accepted him fully without judgment or demand.

 

Drowsiness began to take hold as your rhythmic caresses through soft-down lulled Hawks towards slumber. "Stay?" he mumbled into your skin, his voice blurred by oncoming sleep yet filled with gentle hope. 

You kissed his forehead, followed by a whisper, "I’ll stay, promise." was the sweetest assurance Hawks could wish for.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[honeyedfate]

backstage confessions | 심재윤

pairing. jake sim x fem!reader + feat. enhypen

genre. fluff (+ crack? im just a comedian really)

a/n. my first fic on this sideblog!! enjoy x

“what are you looking at?” jay’s teasing voice comes from beside you, effectively snapping you out of your daze.

you turn to him hesitantly, feeling like you just got caught doing something sinful. “mm?”

jay holds your gaze, clearly unimpressed by your pretence while taking a bite from his banana. he chews like he has all the time in the world and for a moment you wonder if he had spoken at all. then, he swallows and his lips curve into a smile. the kind you wear when you’ve already stolen someone’s wallet and are now humouring them.

“you were staring,” he eventually says. “at jake.”

“well, damn.” you laugh awkwardly. “don’t make it sound like a crime. and i wasn’t—“

“yea, no.” he shakes his head. “don’t even try. you were locked in for, like, the past 10 minutes. it was serious for you.”

“i have my reasons,” you sputter defensively, hoping those reasons will materialise inside your head right now. then the rest of his words catch up to you and you pull a face. “you’ve been looking at me for 10 minutes?”

“you would’ve noticed if you weren’t too busy doing the same thing to someone else.” jay snorts quietly. “besides, there are no reasons. or there’s only one, really. i don’t know if you know what it is, but i do. i know that look.”

you arch your brows. “you sound confident.”

he nods, tossing the peel of his banana into the nearest bin. “i’m not a gambling man but i would bet on it.”

“enlighten me then.”

jay squints his eyes, giving you a look that almost rudely says right. as if you’re ready to hear the truth. and you probably aren’t, but you’re fatally curious and the thought of someone knowing you better than yourself feels both touching and offensive.

“enlighten you about what?” another curious voice cuts in and the two of you swivel around, coming face to face with none other than jake. he tilts his head to the side, big black eyes innocently meeting yours as a strand of curled hair falls down his forehead and oh. oh, you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that.

jay clears his throat, glancing at you as if to check if you’re drooling. “erm, just you know…” he helplessly flails his hands around, gesturing at everything and nothing at all. “stuff.”

you stare up at him.

“smooth,” you mumble under your breath and he elbows your side. jake’s gaze darts between you two.

“you want him to enlighten you about… stuff.” he repeats flatly and you swear you hear jay wince beside you. yes, this is extremely painful and it’s your fault, you hiss at him telepathically, hoping he could hear it. sadly, absolutely nothing comes to mind to eradicate the situation, so you just smile back nervously.

jake eventually bites his lip and forces an awkward laugh, taking a step back while his eyes shine with something you can’t place. “sorry, didn’t mean to pry. if you guys have secrets, that’s none of my business, erm, i’ll just go see what the others are doing.” with an even more awkward wave, he leaves the room.

you round on jay. “what was that?”

he retreats with his palms up, laughing sheepishly. “that was close, wasn’t it?”

“you think?” you say bitterly, flopping down on the cluttered couch, pulling out someone’s charger from beneath you. you haven’t even realised how fast your heart was pumping, but you suppose that seems like an adequate reaction seeing how the boy you’ve been stupidly in love with for months might’ve overheard how you were staring at him yearningly like an idiot. or a creep. god, maybe it’s an heart attack.

“you know,” says jay as he sits down on the opposite couch, speaking at a normal volume now that everyone has left the waiting room. “one day, you will have to tell him. does it really make that much of a difference if you do it today or next week?”

you shoot him an incredulous look. “park jongseong, you’re funny if you believe i was planning on telling him a damn thing. hilarious, actually, for thinking i’d do it next week as if i’d saved it in my calendar.”

“jake probably has.” jay shrugs, smiling fondly. “he probably has an alarm set too. he’s such a J.”

“you’re a J,” says heeseung the moment he strolls into the room, door falling shut behind him. “hey, y/n.”

you flash him a smile over your shoulder. “hi, hee.”

he takes a seat on your left and offers you an open bag of peanuts. you take some and he extends the courtesy to jay who stares at him blankly.

“trying to kill me again?”

“what? you’re not allergic to peanuts.” heeseung frowns, glancing at you. “right?”

“leave me out of it,” you say. “i’m feeling murderous today so if he is, those nuts should not be anywhere near me.”

he studies your face as though to see if you’re serious. “okay then,” heeseung mutters to himself before turning back to his friend. “well, are you?”

jay’s brows furrow. “no, i was just kidding. but you should know if i’m allergic or not, man. peanut allergies are not a joke. we’ve known each other for years, what the hell?”

heeseung stares at him in bewilderment. “you’re not even allergic.”

“i could’ve been, you a—“

“what’s going on?” jungwon cuts him off as he walks in. the others shuffle in behind him, looking at jay and heeseung curiously. “why are you fighting?”

neither of them reply while everyone else makes themselves comfortable on the couch. it’s a whirlwind of movements and things being shoved aside and someone saying “you’re sitting on my hand, riki.” and before you know it, heeseung and jake are sat on either side of you.

sunghoon looks around expectantly. “so? what are we fighting about? might as well join.”

heeseung huffs and pours some more peanuts into your palm, nearly emptying the whole thing. “nothing, he’s just being weird,” he grunts and you grin at jay while he pouts and looks away. apparently, that seems to be a good enough response for everyone and they fall into mindless chatter and doomscrolling on their phones.

you’re in the middle of talking to sunoo about a drama you started last night when you suddenly feel a hand gently wrapping around your left wrist. jake grins at your startled reaction and pulls it towards him to pick some peanuts from your palm. “sorry,” he says with way too much amusement for it to be remotely genuine.

“s’alright,” you reply, not able to stop yourself from smiling shyly when you realise how close you’ve been sitting. you’re close enough to count his lashes if you wanted to, especially when he reaches up to remove a piece of lint from your hair and lets you blow it away.

“oh, wait, i wanted to show you something.” he fishes out his phone and lets his other arm fall on his thigh. since his leg is pressed up against yours, his hand is lying on your thigh and you really don’t want to think too much about it because you might squeal and pass away from embarrassment.

before you can ponder the possibility of that happening, he moves his arm behind your back and pulls you into his side. you are so proud of yourself for masking your surprise and biting back a yelp. the whiff of his perfume and something that smells so undeniably like him drifts to your nose as jake leans closer to show you his screen. you’re looking at the pepe the king prawn trend on tiktok where people share their traumatic experiences, and this one in particular has you in stitches in less than four seconds.

“i knew you’d like this one.” he beams at you with a hint of pride in this voice.

“you were blowing up my phone with these last week.” you move back a little after the last slide, the last remnants of a good laugh hanging in the air between you.

“because i know you’d find them funny,” he says with a shrug like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you hum at the memory. “i had to turn off my phone because i was in the studio and wouldn’t have gotten any work done if your name had kept popping up.”

“oh?” jake looks pleased to hear that. he leans in closer, lowering his voice to a teasing murmur. “why? can’t resist?”

you playfully narrow your eyes at him. “shut up, you know how curious i get.” you look down at your hands. “besides, you stopped sending them, so i figured… i don’t know what i figured.”

a beat of silence follows in which you regret what you said. you didn’t mean to sound so needy.

“the only reason why i stopped was because i knew i’d see you today and i wanted to see your reaction.” jake’s voice is sincere and reassuring. “i saved so many for you, d’you want to see?”

ignoring how your heart flutters uncontrollably, you bite your lip to keep from smiling too much like an idiot. his eyes drift down, lingering there before he blinks rapidly, giving you a lopsided smile and opening the app again to a collection on tiktok that was named after you. no need to overthink that one, right? right.

madonna’s 'like a prayer' gets dramatically louder with each slide and you’re fully immersed, laughing at jake’s commentary and anticipating how it could possibly end when he suddenly stops swiping although there was only one sentence to read, and you’d be mildly offended if he believed you to be that slow of a reader. quizzically, you look at him only to find his eyes already on you. the effect is diabolical.

he’s really just smiling at you—something he’s done a million times even though you wish he hadn’t because you are so sure you could get drunk on it—but this one is painfully gentle and inviting. as if you had just told him you save baby animals in your free time and this was his secret show of tender gratitude. it’s all very confusing.

“you’re so pretty,” says jake, quietly as though it wasn’t even meant for your ears to hear.

his eyes hold so much softness and plain adoration—yes, adoration. even you can see that clear as day—that you immediately feel your mouth go dry and your chest squeeze around your heart. because what is happening right now? jay was right. you are, in fact, not ready to face the truth.

it is ni-ki who has you both crashing back to earth with the call of jake’s name. you tear your eyes away and blink at your lap.

“jay asked if you have anything planned next week.”

still out of it, jake glances at you for some reason before settling his puzzled gaze on jay. “we have schedules every day next week, bro. we looked at it earlier in the car. you were there.”

“oh, i know.” jay grins and slides his eyes to you, mischief glinting in them. “so whatever it is you want to do, you should probably do it now. if you’re going to do it anyway.”

it’s like the entire room falls silent, prompting you to eye them suspiciously. “okay,” says jake slowly, clearly not getting the hint. you’re not sure you get it either.

“god,” you hear sunoo mutter under his breath, making ni-ki snort.

“i know,” jungwon sighs. “they’re idiots.”