#just two guys... trying to make you laugh...

[kamaluhkhan]

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 10.5k summary: after years away, vi returns home for the holidays and reunites with you, her ex-girlfriend. the universe (*cough cough* and your meddling families) push you together again, and neither of you can ignore the feelings that linger. (or: you, vi, and the ghosts of christmas past, present and future.) warnings: reader is ekko's older sister but not necessarily biological so appearance isn't specified; childhood friends to lovers + second chance romance; reader gets hit on by a creepy guy + gets into a fight (injury + blood mention), smut [strap mention (reader receiving), oral (both receiving), fingering (both receiving), biting, spitting, tribbing, sub!vi makes an appearance...kinda rough + possessive sex but there's aftercare too <33] (18+) ! a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR GIRLS AND GAYS <33 tbh i debated whether to post this now bc xmas was like....3 weeks ago but figured i might as well. so pls enjoy what is essentially an x-rated sapphic hallmark holiday movie.

♪: ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift (sun); winterbreak by MUNA (moon); last christmas by wham! (rising)

track 1: thank god it’s christmas by queen

(winter — age 17)

“okay, just relax your fingers — no, but keep some tension, apply a bit of pressure on the string….yep, that’s better. now, straighten your back….”

it’s dark and snowing outside, and the cold’s seeping in through the window of her attic bedroom, but vi still almost melts into the floor when you follow her advice and press against her chest. she worries that you can feel how fast her heart is beating — faster than it maybe should for someone she’d been calling friend ever since she could remember. 

you shift in her lap, her arms still wrapped around yours from when she offered to guide you through an instrumental version of wham’s “last christmas.” you tilt your head towards her, nose almost brushing against hers. 

“vi?”

“....yes?”

“maybe we should finish our lesson another time. we better hurry up, anyways. i bet ekko and powder are already arguing over whether we should watch home alone or home alone two.”

vi snorts. it’s practically a tradition at this point, along with the annual post-christmas-dinner pyjama movie night.

you try to hand her the bright pink guitar pick, but vi shakes her head.

“it’s yours. you’re gonna need it if you want more lessons.” 

“hm, or maybe i could sell it for a billion dollars once you’re a big rockstar,” you tease. “i can picture thousands of fangirls painting your portrait and writing mrs. violet lanes in their notebooks.” 

you get up, shoot her a wink, and leave vi on the bed, clutching her guitar and trying to get her pulse under control. 

neither of you say anything as you both get changed. the stereo plays the mixtape you’d made for her — you got her for secret santa this year.

“my mom loved this song,” vi hums, a warm ache growing in her chest when the next song plays. this is the second christmas without her, but vi is still not used to using past tense. “she thought freddie mercury was the best rockstar of all time.”

“i remember. you…you must miss her.” 

of course she does, and she could run through a million reasons why.

“vander says you’ll be spending new year’s at your dad’s,” is what she says instead.

you let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “yeah.”

“your mom going, too?”

“just me and ekko. i swear, it’s like he’s trying to be this perfect dad to his new stepkids, meanwhile he’s the one who left us here to deal with his mess, the one who just ran away, and….whatever.” this time, you do scoff. “hey – do you have a shirt i could borrow?”

vi looks over to find that you’ve switched from the velvet dress you wore during dinner into a pair of flannel plaid pants; her cheeks flush when she sees that you’re only wearing a black lacy bralette on top. 

she clears her throat and pulls a clean jersey from her dresser, tosses it over to you. 

“that’s a shame. i was looking forward to spending new year’s eve together.”

you hum and slip the shirt over your shoulders. the only sources of light are the moon and the stars and the multicoloured christmas lights strung along vi’s walls, but she swore that your eyes flick down to her lips. 

“why’s that?” you ask. 

there’s something absolutely dizzying about being this close to you, the way your sparkly eyes wait patiently for her to respond. joni mitchell sings about skating away on a river, and vi wishes she could skate away from this conversation, but there’s nowhere to go. 

vi blinks away from your gaze and fixates on one of the many things she’s pinned up on her bedroom walls throughout the years. it’s a page torn from an old notebook of yours, something from seventh grade math class, but vi always loved your little drawings in the margins. 

vi?” you prompt, never one to let go easily.

“i want to kiss you at midnight,” she confesses.

“yeah?” 

vi nods. she’s tempted to walk out of her room, down the stairs and out into the winter night, until you weave your fingers through hers and squeeze her hand. she looks up — and you’re beaming, a smile that brightens vi’s entire being. 

“i want that too.”

vi finally, finally crashes her mouth onto yours, lips sticky with marshmallow fluff.

you taste like vanilla and gingerbread and hot chocolate that is definitely not spiked with irish cream that vi slipped into your mugs while you distracted the adults. 

you taste like home.

….

so, slight change of plans….i’m gonna stay here in london with the rest of the band. apparently the kirammans throw a super fancy holiday party with super fancy people every year, and cait convinced her parents to let us perform. fingers crossed someone important discovers us.

merry christmas, baby. and, if i don’t get the chance to say it: happy new year.

….

track 2: winter wonderland by darlene love

(winter — age 12)

you’re supposed to be looking after ekko while your parents are at work, but all that really means is making a big bowl of kraft dinner and stove-top s’mores for lunch and watching old christmas specials on the worn-out living room couch while you draw in your sketchbook and your brother, only 7 years old, programs the doorbell to play ‘jingle bells.’ 

when someone rings the doorbell, the tune floats through the house and wakes up your dog who starts barking like it’s the end of the world. 

“easy, ziggy.” you click a marker closed and run a hand through the husky’s fur, attempting to calm him down. “let’s go see who it is.”

you open the door, and there’s vi: snowflakes sparkling on her eyelashes, pink hair hidden under a knitted hat, and a toothy grin that brings out the dimple in her flushed cheeks. she’s also got a split lip and crooked nose from her last hockey game.

“we’re building a fort,” she tells you. she shuffles to the side so that you can see powder, who’s making a snow angel. “well, we’re going to. wanna join?”

you nod, smiling. “ekko!” 

your brother’s already behind you, slipping on his chunky boots and oversized coat that used to be yours before running outside and collapsing onto the fluffy snow next to powder. ziggy bolts outside, too, running circles around them. 

you stumble to get your winter gear on as fast as possible, the cold air rushing inside your front hallway as vi waits for you, kicking her snowy boot against the concrete entryway step. not even a heartbeat after shutting the door behind you, vi takes your gloved hand in hers and pulls you forward, the two of you a flurry of laughter.

…..

hey, pretty girl. i was at this party and one of your songs came on! every time i hear it, i’m in awe of how amazing it is….how amazing you are. i’m basically walking home in a snowstorm, so i’m gonna go before my fingers freeze off, but i just wanted to say that i’m so proud of my rockstar girlfriend.

i was also wondering: are you coming home any time soon? the holidays are coming up, and i really miss you. we all do.  

…..

track 3: last christmas by wham!

(winter — now)

vi should have learned from sonic youth and fleetwood mac: 

no sex or romance between bandmates. it never ends well.

it was bad enough giving into the rumors and fooling around with cait, but it’s another layer of messiness now that cait and maddie dating. meanwhile, cait is very much still bitter towards vi, vi is very much pining after someone whom she’s pretty sure never wants to see her again, and steb and lorris are very much caught in the middle. it’s no wonder the band’s manager suggested everyone take some time apart to ease the tension. frankly, while others protested, vi was almost relieved at the suggestion.

so cait’s off to london, maddie’s off to glasgow, the boys are going god knows where, and vi —

vi’s heading back home, back to you.

she wakes up in the bed of her childhood for the first time in a long time. her dad put on fresh sheets, but they’re still the same ones from back then — worn flannel with cartoon penguins. it takes a lot of willpower to untangle herself from the warmth and cloud-like softness, but eventually she heads downstairs to the kitchen.

powder still has exams so she’s not home from college until tomorrow, and vander’s gone to work. it’s just vi in her too-small christmas pyjamas (she has yet to unpack), eating a box of stale cinnamon pop-tarts for breakfast even though it’s well past noon. curiosity gets the best of her, so she peers through the window to see if anyone is next door.

your mom’s car is in the driveway, completely snowed in. there had only been a dusting of snow while vi was devouring the first pastry, but four pop-tarts in and it’s about doubled. she waits until the snow stops falling; with nothing better to do and a sugar rush to burn off, vi pulls on her old winter coat and snow boots she hasn’t worn since she was 18, grabs a shovel from the garage, and gets to work. 

it doesn’t take her long to clear the driveway, and she has some adrenaline to spare, so she decides to be a good neighbor. 

vi’s heaving one last shovelful of snow over her shoulder when she hears:

“violet? is that you?” 

she turns around. and, okay the first thing she registers is ziggy running towards her, the husky toppling her over into the snow.

“i missed you too, zig,” vi laughs. 

she gets up as ziggy’s still bounding around in the snow, and sees your mom standing in the doorway, looking a little more tired and a little more gray. but the smile on her face when she sees that it is, in fact, vi — it’s so bright that the snow might not exactly melt away, but the years sure do. 

vi remembers making snow angels with you while your moms gossiped over tea, how the two of you would stomp inside with a mess of slush and snow while laughter echoed from the living room. vi remembers your mom keeping a comforting arm around her shoulder through her mom’s funeral while you held her hand. she remembers your mom helping her pick out the perfect corsage to match your suit at prom, making a joke about how next time it might be an engagement ring, and telling vi how proud her mother would have been of her at your high school graduation party. 

with the golden glow of nostalgia comes a crashing wave of guilt at what vi said to you last time you spoke. 

“come inside, sweetheart. i’ll make you some hot cocoa as a thank you.”

vi is tempted to reject the offer, but your mom looks so hopeful and vi’s fingers are about to freeze off, anyways. 

so your mom makes hot cocoa as vi defrosts, the two of them chatting in the familiar yellow kitchen that you and vi once almost burnt down while trying to bake a cake for powder’s birthday. even the magnets and paper memories decorating the fridge are the same, with the addition of an article about vi’s band that was featured in the rolling stone, pinned up by a ceramic cow. 

“she’s an art teacher now,” your mom tells vi after giving an update on ekko. she glances at the oven clock. “speaking of which — i know you just finished shoveling our driveway, but do you mind helping me with another favor?”

“after the world’s best hot chocolate? anything.”

“i told my daughter that i’d pick her up from work, and i’m wondering if you would be able to take care of that.” your mom smiles. “i’m sensing a bad migraine coming on.”

the last sip of hot chocolate trickles down vi’s throat like cement. she knew she’d be seeing you, but didn’t quite plan for how that….reunion might go.

“of course,” vi says. 

vi puts both of their mugs in the dishwasher, about to grab the car keys from the hook by the door when your mom calls out: 

“oh, and violet?” vi turns around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

you’re talking to a student when vi enters the art room of your old high school. nothing else in the building had changed — same boring concrete, same scratched up lockers, same graffiti immortalizing whom hooked up with whom. this room is the exception, vibrant with how students’ art is displayed all around, paintings and drawings and collages, and you’ve strung up multicolored christmas lights that give the whole space a cozy ambiance. you look the part of a cool, young art teacher: wearing a simple dark purple turtleneck tucked into black jeans and the same combat boots you’ve had since tenth grade, paint stains on your skin that is exposed by rolled up sleeves, and a marker behind your ear. you’re standing in front of an easel, talking to the student who happens to notice vi before you do.

“holy shit. is that violet lanes?”

vi watches as your face scrunches up in confusion, and then falls into shock when you see her standing there.

“it seems that it is violet lanes,” you state coolly while the student squeals. “what are you doing here?”

“oh, i, uh,” vi clears her throat, her palms sweaty. why is her body reacting like she’s a teenager about to ask out her crush for the first time? “your mom wasn’t feeling great, asked if i could pick you up from work.”

“you guys are friends?” the student asks, eyes wide as they flick between you and vi. 

“we used to date, actually,” vi clarifies. wrong move, she realizes, because you can’t help but glare at her.

“oh my god.” the student squeals again and reaches in their pocket to whip out their phone. “i need to tell alyssa that ms. l/n was in a relationship with the violet lanes. are you guys gonna get back together? oh my god, have you come to win her back —”

“layla,” you clip, and by the furrow of layla’s brow, it seems like you’re not usually so stern. you smile at layla, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you’ve done some great work today, but you’ll have to finish this when we’re back from winter break. do you mind giving ms. lanes and i a minute?”

layla nods once, gathers her things. when she walks past vi, she can’t help but ask for an autograph. vi complies, of course, even lets her take a selfie. a fan is a fan, after all.

and, quite frankly this is the only part of being in the band that she still enjoys: hearing how excited young girls are at the music she writes, the music that vi wished she had growing up, about girls liking girls, about girls falling in and out of love with each other. everything else is just an occupational hazard that vi’s getting more and more fed up with. 

when vi turns her attention back to you, you’re finished putting all the material away, wiping your hands with an already paint-stained towel.

“i meant what you’re doing back in town,” you explain, not quite meeting vi’s eyes. you pack away some books and your laptop into a supple leather briefcase, and slip on your coat. vi’s cheeks flush when you catch her watching you. 

“it…it doesn’t matter. i’m here for a while, though.” 

you sigh. “okay.” and you don’t say anything more. vi keeps up with you as you switch off the lights, lock the door, and stride to the parking lot in silence. when you get to the car, you extend your hand.

“i’m driving,” you say, gesturing at her to give you the keys. “we both know that you’re a terrible driver.”

“i’m not a terrible driver,” vi guffaws. 

“says the lesbian who gives the rest of us a bad name,” you quip, a hint of a smile dancing across your lips, like the first bout of sun after a winter storm. “c’mon, pretty girl. i’m not giving up, so unless you wanna freeze to death….” 

the nickname slips effortlessly from your tongue, so much so that you don’t even seem to realize it, but vi’s breath hitches and she’s more than happy to fold to your every whim if it means hearing you call her pretty one more time. 

“so….” vi glances over at you from the passenger seat. a snowy landscape passes outside the window, and you tap on the steering wheel to a generic christmas song that plays through the stereo. “you’re teaching high school now?” 

she wonders if you remember the last fight you had, almost two years ago to the day.

you keep your eyes on the road. “yeah. guess i graduated from finger-painting with kindergarteners.”

vi feels her cheeks heat up all over again. 

so, you do remember. 

she wonders if you’ve replayed it over and over again and hoped for a different ending like she did. she should have thought more about what to actually say to you —

“you know, i never understood why you liked this song so much,” you suddenly say when the radio starts playing dolly parton’s cover of ‘i’ll be home for christmas.’ 

vi can read between the lines, but she’s waiting for you to point out the irony in her preference for a song that’s about someone wanting to go home for christmas, something vi has deliberately avoided at all costs these past few years. 

“it just seems kinda sad,” you continue. 

“you love ‘last christmas,’ and that one’s pretty sad,” vi points out.

“sure, but it ends hopefully.”

“oh?” vi tilts her head towards you. “how’d you figure? 

“sure, it’s someone singing about heartbreak and how much it sucks during christmastime, but then there’s this hope that they still find true love down the line. it’s a maybe that isn’t hopeless.” you shrug. “meanwhile, your song ends with the lyric ‘if only in my dreams,’ which just seems too accepting of the fact that going home for christmas, being with the person they love — it might just be a dream.”

“i don’t know. some dreams do come true,” vi muses. 

by now, you’ve made it home. you put the car in park but keep the engine going, presumably to avoid becoming icicles. neither of you make a move to leave. 

you glance over at vi. “your dreams sure came true, ms. violet lanes,” you joke, but there’s an air of sadness to it.

“not all of them.”

“yeah? which ones haven’t?”

vi swallows the lump in her throat and hopes that you understand the look in her eyes. “let’s just say i’m working on them.”

you blink away and cut the engine.

….

you’re still dealing with the shock of seeing vi back in town when your brother, freshly home from college, suggests going skating. 

he can be fairly convincing, especially when he mentions that it’s a christmas season tradition, so, you prepare for what is essentially a double date with your brother, his girlfriend/your ex-girlfriend’s sister, and your ex-girlfriend, with isha as a fifth wheel.

should be fun. 

it turns out, despite all her past hockey experience, vi really cannot skate. in fact, skating seems to be the complete opposite of riding a bike: she’s terrible at it after years off the ice, essentially reenacting that scene from bambi. it’s easier to ignore vi’s presence when she’s sitting next to the snack bar, by herself, but then powder skates up next to you and asks if you’d be kind enough to please help her sister have a good time. you roll your eyes at her shit-eating grin, but it is a bit sad, watching vi on the sidelines. she’s wearing a beanie and a pair of sunglasses to hide her identity, and now she kinda looks like a divorced dad watching his grown kids pass him by while he’s stuck in a midlife crisis.

you convince vi to give skating another shot — it’s tradition after all — and pull her out onto the rink. you start by holding her from behind, keeping her hips steady until she gets the hang of it. you try to let go, but vi stumbles and reaches out for your gloved hand, and you melt into the familiarity of her fingers curled around yours. the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm, first with you pulling vi along, then with her taking the lead, until vi almost knocks into a small child.

“see what i mean by you being a bad driver?” you jest, successfully maneuvering to avoid collision. 

then, you follow where vi’s eyes have settled — on powder and isha laughing and chasing each other around the rink. vi had asked earlier when isha had dyed her hair blue; you still have some residue under your nails from last weekend, when powder came for a study break and the three of you ended up helping isha achieve a new look she’d apparently been itching to try. 

“you know powder’s graduating this year?” 

“she overloaded her credits so she could get out of there as soon as possible,” you explain, having had many conversations with powder leading up to the decision. 

vi nods, her jaw clenched. you already know what she’s thinking, and frankly, you agree: that vi hasn’t been here, literally and figuratively. you also feel the warmth of vi’s skin radiating through her glove to yours, notice the slight flush to her freckled cheeks, how chapped her lips are from the cold, so much so that you’re tempted to share the vanilla chapstick you’ve got on your own lips, to kiss her deeply like you did last time you were here, together.

it’s only been three days since vi’s been back home. this is only the second time you’ve seen her, and you’re already falling back into old patterns, tempted to ask her to stay, to try again, even though you already know the answer.

except….not staying isn’t the deal breaker it used to be, so maybe trying again isn’t as hopeless as you think it is.

vi squeezes your hand, and you realize that you’ve stopped skating entirely. 

“hey. you still with me?”

you nod, decide to enjoy this moment for as long as you can, and the two of you glide across the ice.

…..

when you suggest making stove-top s’mores, it’s another item on the list of things she’d missed. 

a list that’s been growing a lot these past few days.

vi offers to make more once you’ve all run out, and ekko follows her into their kitchen while you, powder, and isha keep watching christmas specials in the living room. she turns on the gas stove, stabs a marshmallow through a wooden skewer and waits for it to roast — and, for ekko to say something.

“i don’t know what happened between you and my sister, but i need you to promise me that the tabloids aren’t true. that you and that kiramman chick didn’t hook up…at least until after y’all broke up.” 

“or, what, you’re gonna challenge me to an arm wrestle? think you can finally beat me?”

“oh, i know it.”

a pause. the marshmallow catches on fire and vi blows on it to quell the damage.

“i didn’t cheat on her.” she throws out the burnt marshmallow and gives it another shot. “i would never. does….does she think i did?”

ekko shrugs. “not sure. some of those articles are pretty convincing. but, since you’re promising me that you didn’t…”

“i didn’t.”

“then that saves me from kicking your ass.” ekko nods once and uncrosses his arms, handing vi some graham crackers and chocolate. “actually, i could use your help with something.”

“sure.”

“she applied to this great art residency in new york, like, on whim. the only people she’s told are me, powder, and vander….i think she’s nervous to tell mom, at least until she knows for sure she’s gotten in, but this is the most excited i’ve seen her be about something in a while, and she worked really hard on her application…” 

“i’m sure she did,” vi states. “what do you need my help with?”

“convincing her to go.” 

“i’d love to help, but i’m not sure i’m someone she’d wanna hear from, especially about this. she was never a fan of me leaving to pursue my dreams.”

“she was never a fan of you leaving,” ekko corrects. “she’s still a fan of you pursuing your dreams.” he juts his chin out at the article stuck to the fridge. 

vi had just assumed that your mom had pinned that up.

“okay.” vi says. “i’ll talk to her.” 

a plateful of semi-burnt s’mores later, and vi and ekko return to the living room with the rest of you. 

vi forgot how nice this felt, all of you cuddled on the couch, ziggy included, watching how the grinch stole christmas. she half expects her mom to walk in through the door without even knocking, shake the snow off her hair, and hold up a batch of pre-baked gingerbread people she’d gotten for the kids to decorate.

but that’s not happening. other than isha, none of you are kids anymore and things can never be the same.

and yet — you glance over at vi and give her a sticky marshmallow smile, and she feels her heart grow three sizes.

….

baby, i swear it’s not what it looks like. the record label thought it would be good promo to get a picture of me kissing under the mistletoe…’tis the season and all that…..cait and i were both really drunk and things got a bit out of hand….but it looks worse than it is. i swear on my mother’s grave that nothing happened.

please call me back, baby…..i’m so fucking sorry….please. 

it’s not christmas without at least hearing your voice. 

….

track 4: river by joni mitchell

(winter — age 23)

it’s hard to believe that hours ago, you were kissing vi backstage and showering her with praise after the concert. she was happy to indulge in your excitement, even though she was all sweaty and her ears were still ringing from the crowd. 

more than happy, in fact. phone sex can only go so far, and it’d been too long since vi had seen you writhe and heard you whimper for her firsthand. 

“i missed you so fucking much,” you groan, tightening your grip on vi’s hair. it’s now an inky black instead of fuschia — the band’s starting to lean more punk rock. 

a particularly hard thrust is her way of telling you that she missed you too. so fucking much. she throws your legs over her shoulders, pushing the strap deeper inside you and digging her knees into the mattress as she coaxes you through another orgasm. you pull her down for one last searing kiss, your tongue searching each crevice of her mouth. 

“i can’t believe you’re here,” vi continues a few moments later, after you’re both cleaned up and getting dressed. she wants to add something along the lines of i love you, but she bites back the sentiment. she’ll save that sappy shit for later tonight, when she finally gets down on one knee for you. 

you glance back at her from where you’re pulling out a sparkly silver dress from your side of the closet (and isn’t that such a slip of the mind? your side, as if it’s a shared closet and a shared bedroom and a shared home; if she thought about it more, though, she would realize that, though she has no problem asking you to marry her, she’s still terrified at the thought of staying in one place for more than a few months).

“me neither,” you smile. 

vi walks over to you, presses her half-dressed body against your lingerie-clad form (vi’s sure you wore this fuschia set just to drive her insane; it’s working). she lodges her hand behind your ear and pulls you in closer, kisses you deeply because you’re here and she missed you so fucking much and she’s so ready to make you her wife.

she could write a whole record just about the taste of your lips: the sweetness of vanilla chapstick, the saltiness of sweat and the headiness lingering from the wetness you lapped up from between her legs.

you pull away first. vi tries not to stare at how your chest heaves, your breasts straining against intricate lace. 

“we, um.” you clear your throat. you slip your hand underneath vi’s blazer, and she groans when you make contact with the exposed, burning skin of her abdomen. vi thinks you’re about to suggest another round, or two, or ten, but instead you untangle yourself from her and say: “we should probably get ready.”

the after party is going well. the club’s busy, the music’s good, and the drinks are flowing.

you seem to be having a great time until someone (probably cait or maddie, on cait’s behalf) lets it slip that the band’s heading to london later in the month to start recording their new album before the end of the year….something vi decidedly did not want to tell you until later tonight, after the high of the proposal, after she’s promised you that she’s dedicated to this relationship, that she’s always been dedicated to you. 

instead, vi’s trailing behind you as you angrily stomp towards the bathroom, her mind scrambling to come up with a way out of this argument.

there’s a line, but you cut in front and slip inside as soon as someone walks out. 

“wait, what the fu —”

you slam the door and lock it behind you once you’re both inside, ignoring the subsequent banging and jiggling of the handle.

“please, baby, let me explain —”

“i can’t fucking believe you,” your voice is steady, measured, and for some reason that makes vi even more nervous. “you give empty promise after empty promise that you’ll be more present, but something always gets in the way, is always more important than —”

“don’t you dare say that you’re not important to me. i offer to fly you out anywhere to be with me, but you’ve only taken me up on the offer once. twice, now.”

“it’s been five years, vi. five years of us staying together because….god, at this point i don’t even know why — ”

“do you not understand how much i love you?” vi raises her voice over the sound of the club music outside. “i was gonna propose tonight.”

you stare at her, then start to laugh.

“please tell me you’re joking.”

“i’m not.”

“if you think marriage will save us, then you’re delusional. what was your plan — call me your wife while we’re thousands of miles apart, but not even have the time to answer my calls? we’re barely in a relationship now, vi. all that’s left between us are missed calls and voicemails —” 

“oh that’s really all that’s left between us?” 

“i love you, violet. i have since we were kids. but, now, there’s also all this — the parties, the crowds, the fame….you’ve gone all over the world, and you can’t even be bothered to visit your family during the holidays.”

“well i’m sorry that my ambitions are bigger than that nothing town we grew up in,” vi snaps. “i can’t believe you’re throwing a tantrum because i’m not making it home for christmas. for what? so we can all reminisce by the fireplace, pretend that we can be kids again, even though things can —” vi chokes back a sob, soothes it with a healthy dose of anger. “things can never be the same. you need to grow the fuck up.”

“maybe you should be the one to grow up!” you finally yell. “convincing yourself that this relationship is working, meanwhile you’re running away from everything and everyone you grew up with because it reminds you of your —”

“at least i’m not afraid to actually go after my dreams,” vi cuts you off before you can finish that sentence, uses the broken shards of your words against you. “don’t you want more for your life than finger-painting with a bunch of kindergarteners? you’re gonna end up just like your deadbeat mom, going nowhere, drinking yourself to sleep, all alone, with nothing to show for the life you’ve lived.”

as soon as the words leave her mouth, vi wishes she could take them back. you don’t bother swallowing your tears, letting them rush down your cheeks. vi digs her nails into her palms to prevent herself from reaching out and wiping them. it wouldn’t make sense, anyways. she’s the reason you’re crying. 

you take a deep, shaky breath.

“yeah, well, i’m glad that your mom isn’t alive to see what a selfish asshole you’ve become.” there’s a pause, and vi feels her stomach turn at your casual cruelty, your quiet anger. “i’m gonna pack up my stuff and catch the first flight out of here. merry fucking christmas and happy fucking new year. have a nice life.”

vi screams and throws the velvet box against the door you’ve slammed shut behind you. the hot tears that were building in her throat finally boil over. the engagement ring clatters onto the floor.

…..

vi? it’s me. not sure if you’ve blocked my number. i wouldn’t blame you. i know it’s been, like, a year, but it feels weird not hearing your voice for this long, especially around the holidays. well, i guess i could just turn on the radio….it’s not the same, though. anyways, merry christmas. happy new year, too. and….and i’m sorry. 

please come home.

…..

track 5: i’ll be home for christmas by dolly parton 

(winter — now)

karaoke at the last drop used to be one of vi’s favorite christmas traditions, so you decidedly avoided it at all cost since the breakup. vander always tried to convince you to join, but he understood and even made sure to not give you a shift during that time after you started working there at 21. 

you kept the job because, evidently, high school art teachers don’t make a ton of money, and you would one day like to move out of your mother’s house. 

which, as it turns out, might happen sooner rather than later. you applied for this artist residency in new york, and, yeah, you put time and effort and heart into your application, but you were sure that you’d be rejected. while you got your acceptance email this morning, and you were so fucking overjoyed at first, the thought of leaving still terrifies you, so you’ll postpone worrying about that until after the holidays. that’s what they’re for, anyways: a break from reality, a peek into a cozy snow-covered world where everyone is festive and joyous and worry-free.   

right now though, you’re feeling neither festive nor joyous. gert called in sick, and no one else is able to cover for them, so you’re stuck at the last drop on christmas eve, listening to one of your old high school classmates drunkenly fumble the lyrics of darlene love’s ‘christmas (baby, please come home).’

about three verses in, vi walks into the bar with mylo and claggor, flakes of fluffy snow melting into her grayish pink hair. you’re already pouring their drinks before they reach the counter. mylo and claggor offer their sincere appreciation, chattering away as they leave to snag a booth in the corner. vi stares at her drink before grabbing the beer glass. 

“you remember.” 

“are you surprised?”

vi smiles. “no. it’s just nice. cait keeps insisting i order gin martinis instead. says it’s classier.” 

something sour curdles in your stomach. “yeah, well. i’ve always liked you the way you are.”

that probably ended up sounding like you’re still pining after vi (which you’re….not) rather than the bitter comment you intended it to be. 

vi’s soft blue eyes search yours. 

“i better get back to the boys,” she finally says. “maybe sign up for a song or two.”

you’re busy clearing a table when you hear her voice again. actually — a silence fills the bar, and it’s replaced by the lush rumble of vi singing ‘last christmas.’

you watch her as she performs, eyes locked on yours, and it’s over before you know it. you feel like you should go say something to her, but then there are a bunch of excited fans that she has to attend to, signing autographs, taking photos.

as you swallow your disappointment, the normal chatter of the bar resumes. you’re walking back to the kitchen when you feel someone pinch the back of your thigh, right under your ass. you whip around to find that old classmate who butchered a christmas classic an hour or so before (james, you think his name is, from ninth grade science), with the most arrogant smirk.

“hey, gorgeous. my friends and i were just arguing over who should take you home tonight.” he gestures towards a table of guys who look like equally preppy assholes. “i won the chugging contest.”

“good for you,” you say, balancing a tray of empty glasses. “grope someone in here again, and you’ll be sorry you did.” you turn around to get back to work, but james grabs your wrist and stands up abruptly so you’re chest-to-chest.

“i don’t think you understand what i’m offering, baby.” you gag at the nickname and the stench of beer on his breath. you’re a bartender, you’re used to getting hit on, but creeps like this are the worst.

you rip away from his grasp. 

“i’m not interested,” you snap. “and i’m not your baby.”

“listen.” james puts his hands on your shoulders, and if both of your hands were free, you would promptly push him away. everyone’s having a good time and you don’t wanna cause a scene, so you try to think of ways to get this asshole out of the bar and into the snow without much of a fight. “you know, santa might come down your chimney on christmas eve, but if you’ve been a good girl this year i’ll come down your —” 

“there you are!” powder’s voice is loud over the sound of someone singing another generic christmas carol. she knocks into your side, breathless. “sorry we’re late. had some car trouble.”

“well, hello.” he removes his hands from your shoulders, shifts his predatory gaze from you to powder. 

oh, fuck no.

“powder,” you keep your voice steady even if your heart is racing. “go back to the table. i’ll be there in a sec.”

james reaches out for powder, but you punch him square in the jaw before he can so much as touch her, the tray of glasses crashing on the floor. 

james’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only egotistical, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a blow to their ego. 

in fact, he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face.

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but powder manages to catch you before you tumble into the broken glass. she holds you as people start yelling. you think that vander rushes over, too, shouting at james to get the fuck out of his bar and never step foot in it again. 

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is all a bit fuzzy. powder tries her best, but you slump your body weight into hers and she almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” vi’s surprisingly calm voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. 

somehow, you find yourself in the bathroom, sitting on the counter as vi stands between your legs. she carefully examines your injury, but you notice how she avoids making eye contact. 

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while.

“remember teaching me how to throw a punch?” the question slips past your lips before you can stop it.

vi looks slightly amused, and she finally meets your gaze. “‘course i do,” she hums. “you tried to convince me to help you start an all-female fight club at school.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the pain from your nose.

she remembers. 

somewhere within her, vi holds on to fragments of you.

“thank god the principal vetoed it. would’ve been a disaster,” she continues.

vi wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of her silk red button-down now stained a darker crimson. “how’s your hand?” she asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

vi smiles sadly. “i guess you’ve been the one protecting my sister while i’ve been away.”

while i’ve been away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart. 

vi’s back home, sure, but only for a limited time. 

her fingers graze your cheek, and the breath hitches in your throat.

“you know, i only wanted to start that fight club as an elaborate plan to spend more time together,” you confess, opting to preserve the delicate bubble of nostalgia you’d stumbled into together. “we were each so busy….i had studio, and you were always away at hockey games. it wasn’t realistic in the end, though.”

“i would’ve stayed if you asked,” she tells you, and you wonder exactly what she might be referring to. 

you swallow the lump in your throat. “it’s what you loved, though.”

“but i - i loved you, more. you had to have known that.”

“yeah, well. i loved you, too,” you explain, and it’s clear that neither of you are talking about a lesbian fight club. “whether it was hockey, or music….as long your heart was in it, it was more worth it to let you go, to not stand in the way of your dreams.” 

“you were my dream.”

you scoff, cheeks heating up, and look away. “you probably say that to all the girls.”

“no.” vi guides your chin towards her. “just the one.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on vi’s— messy, urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. she cradles your face in her hands, and you wrap your legs around her waist to bring her closer. you taste beer on her tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the adrenaline, but dizzy from her. vi’s gaze is heavy on yours as she traces your top lip with her thumb.

“vi,” you whimper, itching to kiss her again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

vi wipes away the blood with the sleeve of her shirt. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. vander, wondering if you’re okay and if maybe you could hurry up and get back to work. 

you can’t sleep that night. before, staying up on christmas eve was an elaborate operation to catch santa. now, it’s overthinking a very hot kiss and all the unresolved tension between you and your ex-girlfriend next door. 

logically, you knew that you missed vi, everything about her and who she is, the way you would laugh and argue and make love. but the rush of feeling her tongue licking into your mouth, her body melding into yours after being apart for so long….

you’re scared that she won’t feel the same, but you’re even more terrified of letting the moment slip through both your fingers without at least trying. 

so, you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to her, when by some christmas miracle you get a text from her.

she climbs through your window not long after, wearing plaid boxer shorts and a zaun university sweatshirt you’ve been looking for, for about five years. you didn’t bother to change, either, only wearing an oversized shirt. you sit cross-legged on your bed as she waits by the window. vi stares at your chest for a good few seconds, and you remember that you’re wearing one of her band’s concert tees, faded from years of wear. 

“so, um,” vi starts, her voice as soft as the well-worn cotton of your shirt. “we have so much shit to talk about and figure out, but, i, uh, can’t stop thinking about early tonight —”

“vi.” the swarm of butterflies in your stomach is replaced by something more delicate, more urgent. “do you wanna come sit?”

vi swallows thickly, looking between you and the still open window. a winter breeze rushes through. you shiver, thinking she might just turn around and disappear into the cold night. instead, she shuts the window, removes her snow-covered boots, and settles onto the bed next to you.

you place a tentative hand on her cheek, still cold and slightly flushed. she shudders when you run your thumb over the tattoo under her eye.

“i know there’s a lot we have to work through.” you take a deep breath as she shifts closer, suddenly dizzy from the familiar scent of her winter pine old-spice body wash. “right now….right now, i just want you.”

“yeah?” vi smirks, her shyness melting away. she settles a warm hand on your bare thigh. “how do you want me?”

you exhale sharply when her hand travels higher, dull nails scraping at the fabric of your underwear. 

“it’s cute that you’re flustered,” she quips, leaning in even closer. her breath is warm and heavy against your lips. “because i’ve spent so many night replaying all the dirty, nasty things we used to —”

you tug her sweatshirt and pull her back onto the bed, feeling her body solid against yours. the vibration of her groan shudders through your body when you crash your lips onto hers with such hunger, you’d think you had been starving without her. 

“how’s about an encore, superstar?” you drawl. 

you bite your lip hard at how vi nods at you desperately, eyes all dark and lustful.

“you read my mind,” she breathes. by now, her hand has reached the hem of your shirt, and she pushes up the cotton to reveal the supple skin of your stomach. you give her permission to remove it, leaving your top half exposed.

her lips nip and suck down your body until she reaches the waistband of your panties. she pulls it up with her teeth, the elastic snapping back when she lets go. you whine her name, and she looks up at you with dark eyes. 

“can i?” her breath fans over your navel, her nails digging into your hips as she waits for your answer.  

“yes. please.”

you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel vi smirk against your inner thigh before sinking her teeth into it. you whimper, and vi salves her tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. she positions your legs over her shoulders for better access to where you need her most.

vi moves her tongue and fingers in all the ways she remembers makes you shake, curl your toes, and grind down on her face. in return, you grip her pink hair, tightly, and utter praise in all the ways you remember makes her shake. 

“just like that, pretty girl,” you encourage, practically melting into the mattress. it feels so good — dangerously good, intoxicating, even — to be devoured by vi.  “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”

vi’s moan vibrates throughout your body and she becomes faster, reaches her tongue deeper, bringing you over the edge. she leaves a few more bites on your body on her way up to meet you and when she does, vi’s lips and chin are shining with your release.

you lean forward slightly to lick it up. you ghost your mouth over hers.

“your turn,” you taunt and run your thumb over her tattooed cheek. 

you twist your calf around vi’s leg and flip your positions. she lets out a yelp when her back hits the mattress. once you’re hovering over her, legs and arms on either side of her body, you do what you’re sure you’d never get tired of doing: you kiss her, passionately, deeply. you bite her lip as you pull away. 

there was always a bit of jealousy that gnawed at you, became your very-own shoulder devil that you just couldn’t shake when you were together, no matter how hard you tried. it was no secret that vi was admired by many, that girls around the world were crushing on her, hoping they’d catch her eye, get their chance with her. you never felt like she was yours, and yours alone. 

but you do get a deep satisfaction knowing that right here, right now, you’re the only person who gets to see her like this — pink hair splayed across the pillows like her very own halo, but the rest of her telling a much less-angelic, much more sinister story: her lips swollen and kiss-bitten, her cheeks a devilish shade of red, her eyes dark and lustful and waiting for you to make the next move. 

"you want me to have my way with you?" you whisper, voice honeyed with desire.

vi whimpers, a sound that fuels the fire in your abdomen. "yes."

you practically rip off her sweatshirt, kiss down her jaw, her neck, her exposed chest and sternum down to her stomach. vi lifts her hips from the bed so that you can remove her boxers, and you’re delighted to find nothing else underneath. 

you’re greeted by her glistening pussy. blowing onto her folds, you run your tongue from her hole to her clit, loving how you already feel her slick coating your lips. vi spread her legs even wider, and you take the opportunity to sink two fingers into her cunt. you know her body, as well as you know your own, as well as she knows yours. you flick your gaze up, view slightly blocked by the pink curls of her bush, but you can still picture it — how her eyes roll back, how her mouth opens to release a perfectly delicious gasp.

"god, i've barely touched you and you're already about to cum. did you miss me that much?" you tease, feeling her clench around your fingers. as if you aren’t subtly rutting your hips against the mattress, eager to ease the throbbing between your legs. 

all you get in response is whine. it’s muffled, and you crane your neck upward to see her biting down on her knuckles, so hard you’re worried she might break skin. 

unacceptable.

the rest of the world gets to hear her every day, any time they please. you want to be serenaded by the lyrics of her want, the notes of her desire. all for you and you alone.

with your other hand, you reach up to pinch one of her pierced nipples, always so sensitive. "answer me, violet."

vi props herself up on her elbows to look at you, just as you remove your mouth from her.

"yes!" she sings, practically sobbing. you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the throbbing between your thighs intensify, hearing the frantic lilt of her voice — like she needs you and only you. "i missed you so fucking much. please, just do something."

at her request, you move up the bed so that the two of you are face to face, one of your hands holding her chin while the other is two fingers deep in her cunt. you add another, just to reveal in the timber of her sultry moan. she tries to bring her hand back, to quiet herself, but you shake your head. 

with your thumb, you trace over her lips, uneven and scarred and imperfectly beautiful. "open." 

vi obeys you instantly. you spit in her mouth, heart racing as you watch her swallow the combination of your saliva and her cum without question.

you continue fucking her with your fingers until she moans, louder and louder as she reaches her peak.

removing your fingers from her pussy, you lock eyes with her as you bring your syrupy fingers to your mouth and suck off her juices. then, you kiss underneath her ear, lips sticking slightly to her skin, and you whisper: "now i know why they say you have the voice of an angel.”

“fuck,” she exhales, the breath turning into a chuckle as you kiss underneath her chin, where you know she’s ticklish.

"one more time for me, okay, pretty girl? i want to feel you against me," you whisper. "i want to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."

vi nods, allowing you to adjust your positions so that your cunts are touching. you start fucking her down into the mattress and she sits up slightly so that your nipples brush against each other, the cold metal of her piercings encouraging the roll of your hips, her nails digging into the curve of your ass to bring you impossibly closer. 

“i missed you too. so fucking much,” you finally admit.  you flick one of the silver rings before leaning down and wrapping your lips around her nipple. 

“i missed these, too,” you add as you release her nipple with a pop, and vi moans. you’re grinning from ear to ear because, holy shit, vi is here and you’re together and you’re both happy, if only at the ecstasy of your silken cunts gliding against each other, at the taste of the other slicking your tongues, as thick as nectar and twice as sweet.

she laughs — love and magic and everlasting bliss — and you have to capture her lips now if you want to swallow the sound. you feel it bounce through your ribcage, awaken something deep within you that you feared was lost to time.

vi thrusts her hips upwards, presses harder against the seam of your cunt until you’re gushing against each other, not quite sure who’s making what mess. 

strings of cum connect you as you remove your body from hers. for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch your breath. vi drapes an arm over her eyes, chest heaving. 

you throw on some clothes and leave the room, hoping that vi’s still there when you get back.

….

vi worries that if she opens her eyes, she’ll wake up from this dream. 

she’ll be in some uncomfortable bed in london or tokyo or los angeles. the dull ache between her legs would be thanks to some girl who’d be eager to text all her friends and spill all the details about what vi likes in bed, or caitlyn who would tell vi to shave next time, darling, or i won’t let you fuck me again anytime soon.

instead, vi hears the creak of a door opening, feet tiptoeing along the floorboards. the mattress shifts with the weight of someone between her legs, though their body is not touching hers. 

“vi, baby,” a gentle coaxing, a familiar voice, pulling towards something she forgot she needed. her heart soars when she finds you kneeling on the bed, holding a damp towel in one hand and a glass of water in another. 

“yeah?” her voice is hoarse, but her throat doesn’t sting in the same way it does after a concert. it feels tender, well-used, well-loved.

you hold out the cup of water, watch vi eagerly gulp down half of it before she realizes what she’s done.

“shit, i — did you want some?”

you smile and shake your head. “i had some downstairs after my shower.” it’s then that vi registers the water dripping from the ends of your hair, soaking the fabric of her (fine, your) sweatshirt. “i’m gonna clean you up. is that okay?”

vi nods.

okay? okay? vi thinks she might have whiplash. 

it’s been a while since someone has fucked her so well she’d be satisfied for years and then touched her so tenderly afterwards. you run the damp cloth over vi’s sticky, sweaty skin, occasionally leaning down to press soft lips where you’d left teeth marks and bruises before. 

“there.” you throw the cloth on the floor. “so, um. do you wanna stay….?” 

you bite your lip as you wait for vi to answer. you start picking at your nail polish, too. vi sits up and grabs your hand. 

“i do,” she soothes. “do you want me to?”

your smile brightens the entire room and you kiss vi before muttering:

“i do.”

vi slips on her boxers as you settle into the bed next to her, leaving her top half bare. she notices the sketchbook on your bedside table, and she lifts it up at you, a silent question if she can flip through. you take it from her as you shift to sit between her legs, her chest warm against your back. the room’s only illuminated by the string of multicolored christmas lights you’d left on, but vi can see the talent, the passion behind your work as you walk her through your sketchbook. you tell her about the techniques you’ve been working on and new mediums you want to explore, about how you want to make the kind of art that makes people appreciate the beauty in the everyday. 

“i always loved your art,” she muses. vi cranes her neck slightly, places a kiss on your shoulder then one on your cheek. “the world would be more beautiful if you shared it.”

you hum and place the sketchbook on your bedside table. you each shift to your sides, facing each other; vi notches a leg around your hips, and you throw an arm around her waist, fingers trailing down her tattooed back. 

“ekko talked to you, huh?”

“i would have said that even if he hadn’t,” vi promises. “so….have you heard anything yet?”

“well….yeah,” you sigh, smiling shyly. “i got in, actually.” 

“really? that’s amazing, baby.” she beams at you, excitedly cupping your face in her hands, leaving small kisses across your cheeks until you’re giggling. 

“okay, okay,” you laugh. “i don’t know if i’m gonna go yet.”

vi hums knowingly. she presses her forehead against yours. 

“i know you’re scared, baby,” she says softly. “but sometimes it’s just a leap of faith.” 

“i know.” you pause, gnawing at your bottom lip while your eyes fixate on the scar on her upper lip. “can i ask you something?

“anything.”

“when you proposed to me….” her body tenses up, but you brush your hand over her bicep and the tension in her muscles dissipates. “was that a leap of faith? like, were you scared?”

“well, not at first.” she takes a shuddery breath, her voice suddenly small. “i always thought that we’d be together….i just didn’t think through how we’d make it work, i guess. i didn’t mean to mess things up, though.”

“hey.” vi leans into the hand you cup around her cheek. “we both messed up. we never actually talked, you know? but….i’m glad we are, now.” you swallow. “i still love you, vi.”

vi exhales. “you know, girls tell me that they love me pretty much every day.” 

you can’t help it — you roll your eyes, and vi laughs. because, truthfully, her heart has felt more full at your admission of love just now than it ever has for an area of screaming fans.

“there’s a point to this, i promise,” she says, nudging her nose against yours. “i used to get such a thrill from it….but then i think about what you said earlier. my heart — it’s just not in it anymore. all the band is now is drama and gossip and compromises of fame over art, and…. i don’t know. it’s not really what i want anymore. i want to be with you. for real, this time.”

you blink at her; she can feel your chest pulsing against hers like a hummingbird.

“would you, um, if i were to take that leap of faith and do that artist residency, would you —”

“anywhere you wanna go,” vi promises. she thinks about it a bit more….how nice it’s been to be home for the holidays, how nice it would be to come home year round.  “preferably close enough so we can have dinner at home on the weekends.” 

“sounds like a plan,” you smile.

the two of you twist closer underneath the flannel sheets, sink into the mattress, and gaze up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to your ceiling until you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

you jolt awake a few hours later, several firm knocks on the door and ekko shouting:

“it’s christmas! get the fuck up before ziggy eats all the bacon!”

beside you, vi protects you from the frosty winter morning. her body radiates warmth, and her eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, as you gently shake her shoulder. 

she groans, turning on her back, rubbing sleep from her eye. 

“i better go.” 

“....yeah.”

you flush when you glance over as vi’s slipping on her sweatshirt, rose-petal bruises delicate across her skin. she opens the window, hair still mussed up, and a gust of frigid air rushes into the room. 

the image is so familiar: vi, one leg in your room and another out the window. you feel like a teenager again, scrambling to get dressed and avoid anyone hearing that you’d snuck your girlfriend into your room late at night. but there’s something else now, too — you imagine this becoming routine: waking up next to each other every day, swapping clothes, kissing over coffee and pancakes at breakfast. a place where the two of you might create some new memories, build a shared life together. and much more, so much more that feels like it could be your reality, sooner rather than later. 

you’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice vi rushing back towards you. she kisses you and kisses you, until your lungs are burning.

"merry christmas, baby,” she mumbles against your lips.

you grin back at her. “merry christmas, vi.”

....

hi baby, i know you’re at studio right now, but i forgot to ask you this morning: how do you feel about sending out holiday cards this year? i know they’re kind of cheesy, but it seems like the type of thing married couples might do…..

anyways, we’ll talk about it when you get home. i’m test-driving this new recipe for brussel sprouts to bring to dinner at my dad’s. 

i’ll see you later. love you!

[lovebugism]

i adoreeee your sm!! would you write eddie x cheerleader!reader where they have their first time together? in his room in his trailer uwu? hurt/comfort 💕😭 and ofc she’s friends with the hellfire club and sits with them at their tableeee at the cafeteriaaa awwwgshsgsgsg

ty for requesting :D — a summary of the day after your first time with eddie munson (established relationship, brief hurt/comfort, cw for mentions of sex but no real smut | 0.9k)

bug's two year celebration ♡

You enter Hawkins High that morning with a subtle ache between your thighs. A distant panging from within you feel strangely proud of. A soreness that makes you feel brand new.

You spare a brief glance at Eddie from the corner of your eye. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he picked you up that morning (or since he dropped you off the evening before that). Your chest swells with a sparkling feeling. You bow your head to hide your smiling, but you can’t shake the feeling that everyone’s looking at you — that your deepest secrets have somehow made the headlines of the school paper.

“I feel like everyone’s staring,” you admit in a whisper when the two of you pause at your adjoining lockers. Your words are nearly drowned out by the droning of a thousand conversations. Your hands shake with the lock.

“Of course they are,” Eddie scoffs, leaning against the forest green metal (‘cause it’s not like he carries his books around anyway). He grins down at your timid form and shrugs. “Why wouldn’t they be? Look at us.”

He chuckles under his breath and waits for you to laugh with him. You never do. You just duck your head and reach into your locker for a history book, more content to hide within its confines. Eddie burns.

“I— I didn’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about,” he murmurs, more seriously now, as he takes a small step closer to you. 

“No, I know!” you blurt, gaze averted. “I just… I just feel sorta weird.”

“Like… Bad weird?”

“No! It’s— It’s not like that…” You don’t know how to put your swirling feelings into words, so you trail off and regret mentioning anything at all. 

Eddie watches you shut down before him. His chest pinches as he reaches for you.

“Hey… There’s nothing to be worried about, okay?” he coos to you with a wavering, crooked smile. “No one knows shit except the two of us— And trust me, I’m gonna be thinking about it all day—”

His attempts to make you laugh work this time.

You smack his shoulder with a quiet giggle, and he laughs harder at himself.

“I’m serious!” he says, cradling his arm.

“You’re annoying,” you correct, still smiling.

“What do you want me to do, huh?” Eddie croons. “I need something to think about until next time…”

You meet his boyish grin with narrowed eyes. “That is very presumptuous of you, Eddie Munson.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he laughs.

You shrug without a word and shut your locker with a soft clang.

Eddie’s smile fades as you walk away from him. “Wait— What does that mean?” he shouts to you, but receives no answer as you disappear into the bustling crowd.

—————

Alone at the Hellfire cafeteria table, you read silently and wait for the rest of the club to take their seats. Jeff is first, ‘cause his mom always packs his lunch. Dustin and Mike are second, and Eddie is third. Your boy arrives with a sudden kiss to your cheek that startles you for a fleeting moment.

“Missed you,” he mumbles in your ear.

“It’s been three hours,” you laugh.

Eddie follows you when you flinch away from him. “Yeah, tell me about it,” he croons, ducking down to press a kiss to your neck. Until you shove him away, at least, face burning at the blatant PDA in front of the rest of your friends. You turn back to your book and try to ignore their unwavering eyes.

“You guys are gross,” Dustin grumbles through a mouthful of fries.

Eddie slumps down in his seat at the head of the table. His lips curl into a lopsided smirk as he tilts his head. “You’re just jealous, Dusty-Bun.”

“Um, excuse me, but I have Suzie, in case you forgot. And she’s hotter than Pheobe Cates— I have nothing to be jealous of,” Dustin rambles, then flashes you an apologetic glance. “No offense.”

“None taken,” you murmur.

“Oh. Right,” Eddie nods, slow and sarcastic. “You mean your very real, not fake at all girlfriend?”

“She’s real!”

“You guys are acting clingier than usual,” Mike observes in his usual monotone.

Gareth arrives at the table then. His tray clatters as he sits down across from you. “It’s ‘cause they had sex,” he tells the raven-haired boy with a nonchalant shrug.

You freeze, breath catching as your heart drops to your stomach. You turn to Eddie with wide, uncertain eyes. You couldn’t hide your shock if you wanted.

Eddie’s face houses a similar horror. “I didn’t tell him. I swear.”

“You didn’t have to tell me,” Gareth scoffs and takes a too-big bite of his burger. His eyes flit between the two of you as he talks through the wad in his cheek. “I can practically smell it on you guys. You’re like a couple of cats in heat.”

“Well, only one cat would be in heat, so technically…” Dustin trails off at the glare Eddie gives him. “Sorry. Not helping.”

“It’s not a bad thing!” Gareth chuckles at his best friend’s simmering anger, ketchup clinging to the corner of his mouth. He slaps the boy on his leather-clad shoulder and says, “It’s about time you get laid, man— I was starting to worry.”

“Says the virgin,” Eddie quips and steals a fry from his tray.

You swat his other shoulder.

“What?” he winces playfully.

“You were a virgin, too, asshole,” Gareth grumbles.

“Yeah. I remember it like it was yesterday,” Eddie says within a whimsical sigh.

“That’s because it was yesterday, idiot.”

[gyaruhana]

Can you do a smut fic where readers dating thanos and she nearly dies in red light green light, and they realise how dangerous the games are and fuck like it’s their last night together? Im talking pure need and lust, desperation after realising the stakes of the squid games

Thanos / Choi Su-bong - I love you

Synopsis: After witnessing so much death and realizing you may both be next, you decide to fuck in the bathroom.

A/N: combined this with two other requests asking for bathroom sex.. i hope that was okay !! also not entirely proof read..

Warnings: smut content, fingering, praise, he's more gentle tbh

You had never feared death before. It always seemed so far away and it was the least of your concerns considering the debt you and your boyfriend, Thanos, share after betting it all on some coin a youtuber recommended. Never once in your life had you thought you would actually die. You always imagined that you'd die at an old age in a fancy house- maybe even with a kid or two. Point is, you didn't think about death because you really didn't see any need to.

Until today that is. 

You and your boyfriend had come across a great opportunity to earn lots of won by playing a few games. Considering you had already earned quite a bit from a game of ddakji, it was a no-brainer to agree to a few games. At the time, it didn't seem suspicious because the salesman who offered the card to you had given you plenty of won without a catch. 

Although you were knocked out with a gas when you entered the designated car together and practically kidnapped, neither of you thought anything about it- too excited at the idea of making money to pay off your debt with a few games. Any money goes a long way to finally paying off your debt so you can focus on getting your dream life.

Idiotically enough, you also didn't find any suspicion in the guy yelling something about how you'll be shot if you move. It actually made you and Thanos laugh at the ridiculousness of it as you both assumed he was just some drunk making up shit to scare people. How wrong the both of you were.

By the time everyone had made it to the halfway mark with plenty of time to spare, Thanos saw a bee land on some girl and made a comment about it. The girl immediately let out a scream and moved to try to get the bee off of her. It was amusing to watch until the sound of a gunshot rang through the air and her body fell to the floor. 

The smile on both your faces dropped immediately as blood pooled around her now-dead body. You and Thanos stood deadly still as people started to scream and run away out of fear. Every gunshot made your heart drop further because that could be you or him. The idea one of you might die right now was sickening for the both of you. 

The moment the sound of shooting stopped, the doll turned out and called green light again. Thanos quickly reached for his necklace while walking forward, desperately needing to be high right now so he could try to pretend like this wasn't really happening. Meanwhile, you didn't move a muscle - too afraid you might die here. You didn't want to be shot too.

The doll turned its head and called out red light making everyone freeze again. Another gunshot rang out making you flinch but thankfully the doll didn't notice the small movement. When it turned around again, Thanos put the pill in his mouth before closing his necklace and looking behind him. You still weren't moving, making him worry. You didn't have time to just stand there, you had to get going and make it to the end.

“What are you doing? You have to move,” Thanos spoke out as he gestured for you to come over to him. He kept still when the doll announced red light again but he kept his eyes on yours. He couldn't have you just stand there until your inevitable death. The moment the players could move again, Thanos ran toward you and grabbed your wrist before pulling you along with him. 

With Thanos dragging you along, you both managed to make it to the end before the time ran out. The relief the two of you shared was only there momentarily. You may have survived this game but what's to say you'll survive the next game? There was no guarantee. In fact, you weren't even confident in yourself that you'd survive the next game. After all, you only got through this because Thanos had dragged you to the end. 

As if sensing your fear, Thanos looked at you and cupped your face with his hands. “Don't look so stressed, baby. We're fine,” he spoke as he gently caressed your cheek. You gave a small smile at his words but the fear didn't disappear. He let out a sigh before tapping your cheek twice and removing his hands. He knew there wasn't much he could say to make this any better. It was a lot to handle, that was for sure. The only reason he was calm was because he had popped a pill the moment the first person died. 

As the players were slowly led back to the main room which they had awoken in, Thanos took your hand to keep you close to him. Despite the drugs he had taken, he was still pretty stressed about the whole ordeal. Mostly because of you. He couldn't fathom the idea of you getting shot like those other idiots in the last game. He'd definitely go crazy if you got hurt so he needed to keep you close to him. 

Even after you were already in the room, his hand still kept a firm grip on yours as if you might disappear should he let go. You didn't mind though. If anything, his hand squeezing yours was a huge comfort. A silent reminder that he wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. It made you feel significantly calmer to be close to him.

He led you to the back of the room and sat you down on the bed before sitting down next to you, his legs crossed with his hand still in yours. He looks at you for a few moments, analyzing your face and trying to read your thoughts. He didn’t like the way your eyes lingered on your lap instead of him so he raised a hand and tilted your chin upwards to make you look at him.

“Baby, you good?” he asks even though he already knew the answer to that question. You were quite far from good after all the blood you had seen. “Am i good?” you say sarcastically, mocking his own words. “Of course, I’m not! I just saw people die! Too many! Fuck, that could’ve been me or you,” you speak, your stress about the whole situation evident in your face and tone. “You gotta relax. We’re fine. Besides we’ll get out of here soon,” he says reassuringly as he looks at you with worry.

You let out a sigh and shake your head as you look to the side- away from him. It was quiet for a few moments as Thanos waited for you to say something else, knowing that you were thinking something. “What if we don’t?” you finally say as you look back at him again. “Don’t say that,” he speaks as his face hardens slightly at the idea that you might die. Fuck, he couldn’t bear the thought of you laying lifeless. “Not saying it doesn’t make it any less of a possibility,” you respond with a frown. He knows that you’re right. It’s a possibility that he can’t just ignore.

“I swear on my life that I will protect you,” he says with a sincere look on his face. It didn’t make you feel any better though because swearing on his life in a game where he could actually die wasn’t a good thing. “Don’t say that,” you speak, repeating his earlier words as your face hardens. You didn’t want him to even think about sacrificing his life for you. You couldn’t see what you’d do without him. 45.6 billion was useless if he couldn’t be there with you to spend it. 

“Okay,” he says with a small smirk as he raises his hand in mock surrender. “I’ll swear on the sun and the moon instead,” he said as he lowered his hands. His words were enough to make you smile a little. Him swearing on the sun and the moon was plenty more significant then others may think. He swore on the sun and the moon he’d treat you right when he first asked you to be his. He swore on the sun and the moon to always be there for you after a particularly bad day when you lost your dad. Most of all, he swore on the sun and the moon that he’d buy a nice house and you could get married and live happily ever after together. He never ever took the name of the sun and moon in vain and that’s why hearing him say it now made you feel just a little better about the current situation.

Thanos looked behind himself for a moment before back at you. “Hey.. if swearing on the sun and moon isn’t enough for you, I could show you how serious I am,” he says with a small smirk. It didn’t take an idiot to know what he meant by that. “..what exactly does that mean?” you question even though you already knew exactly what he meant. There was a spark of desire in his eyes that matched yours as his hand gripped yours tightly. “I don’t have to tell you for you to know,” he says before standing up and pulling you up from the bed with him. 

He drags you towards the door on the right side of the room and bangs on it loudly. “Hey, open up. Bathroom needed,” he says and the door opens after a moment. “Ladies first,” he says with a smirk as he steps out of the way to let you go in first. You shake your head, an amused smile playing on your face as you walk in. The guard led you both down the hallway and to the bathroom. Thanos didn’t waste any time in pushing past that door, dragging you behind him. 

With his patience wearing thin, he quickly pulled you into a kiss. It was unlike his usual kisses that were rough and involved his tongue jammed down your throat. This kiss was more passionate as if he was trying to say something words could never convey properly. He quickly pushed you back into one of the stalls and kicked the door closed behind him, locking it with one of his hands. He spun you around and pushed your back against the stall wall. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mumbles after pulling away momentarily. He stares at you silently - memorizing every feature of your face. He could never get enough of how pretty you were. It felt like a miracle someone like you was with a dickhead like him. He couldn’t help but admire you. “..What? Is something wrong?” you say as you look at him with concern. You didn’t expect him to just stare at you out of nowhere and it was a little embarrassing. 

He shakes his head as he snaps out of his trance. “No, sorry. Just thinking about how fucking lucky I am,” he says before kissing you again like it’s the last time he could ever get to kiss you. In his mind, it damn well could be. One of you really could be dead by tomorrow evening and then that was it. He’d never see you smile or laugh again or look at him like he was the most important thing in the world. The thought was sickening. No matter how confident or cocky he’d act, he was still just Choi Su-bong. And Choi Su-bong was undeniably yours.

You put your arms around his neck as you kissed him back - the feeling of his hands on your waist keeping you in the moment and erasing any memory of the earlier events just for now. His hands slipped under your shirt to feel your skin before he pulled away from the kiss and opted for leaving kisses on your neck instead. He sucked at the skin so delicately and slowly, trying to savor his time with you as much as possible. His lips paused for a moment when they hovered over your pulse point before he kissed the area and bit it softly to mark you right above your pulse so he could feel your heart beat quicker - a silent confirmation that you were still very much alive. 

His hands trailed down to the waistband of your pants before he tugged them down till they dropped to the floor. His hand then pulled your underwear down too, not wanting to waste time with foreplay with the limited time you two shared together. His index finger gently traced over your clit making a moan escape the back of your mouth. “You’re already wet for me? God - I can just skip ahead then, yeah?” he says as he pulls his hand to pull his pants down along with his boxers. 

“Not even a little prep?” you question as you look at him. He laughs quietly before nodding his head. “Fine, but you better cum quick - I need to feel you,” he speaks as one of his hands finds its way to your hole again. He carefully rubs his fingers back and forth before slipping in a finger. His free hand went to cover your mouth when a moan escaped as he couldn’t risk the guard outside the bathrooms hearing and breaking up this moment with you. 

“Gotta be quiet, baby,” he says as he starts to finger you. You nod your head as you try to keep as quiet as possible. He inserts another finger and begins to quicken the pace in which he thrusted his fingers in and out of you. He kept his eyes on your face, loving your reactions to his fingers deep inside your aching core. He had always observed you like this but there was something different about it now that you two had each other to lose. Everything was so much more passionate than usual. You found that your release came much quicker this time around as you released on his fingers. 

“God, you’re so good for me,” he says as he pulls his fingers out slowly before bringing them to his mouth and tasting you. He held eye contact with you as he sucked his fingers clean before leaning down and kissing you again, his hand finding its place on the back of your neck to keep you close. He slowly lined himself up with you, his tip rubbing against your entrance making him let out a small groan. 

He slowly pushed into you, burying his face into your neck as he stretched you out with his dick. He let out a heavy huff at the feeling of being inside you. It felt euphoric. You were so unbelievably tight as he continued to inch himself further in. You let out a moan that was muffled by his hand as he finally pushed in the rest of his dick with one stroke. “You good?” he asks as he pulls his head away from your neck and looks at you. You were still for a few moments before you nodded your head - finally adjusting to the stretch.

The moment you nodded your head, he slipped out before thrusting right back in. He let out a low groan as he repeated the movement over and over, making sure you could feel every inch of his cock deep inside you. You leaned your head back against the stall door as he thrusted in and out of you with a quick pace. His hands grab at your hips roughly to keep you still while he thrusts in and out of your tight hole. “God.. Holy fucking shit,” he mumbled under his breath as the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the bathroom. He loved being deep inside you like this. It felt so fucking good. Even more so now because it was a way to reassure himself you were still here with him and not one of the many corpses he saw earlier.

The thought you could be dead soon spurred him on to fuck you harder. He hated that possibility. He didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to think about you. How your head was thrown back, how your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, how you tried to keep quiet but struggled because he made you feel so good. He loved every fucking part of you - you were perfect.

"Fuck - I love you. Do you hear me? I love you so fucking much. Please say it back" he spoke as he thrusted into you quickly, his pace getting sloppy as he drew ever-so closer to a sweet release. God, he wanted to fill you up with his cum but he needed to hear you say that you loved him like he loved you. He needed to know you cared for him and wouldn’t leave him anytime soon. You nodded your head before forcing yourself to look him in the eyes. “I-I love you too,” you speak and the groan he lets out is so loud.

He immediately releases with one last thrust, making sure his cum spills deep inside of you. You released along with him with a moan and you both stilled. It was quiet for a few moments aside from the heavy breathing that filled the bathroom. He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes as he came down from his high. His hands slowly trailed up from your hips to your face as he gently held your cheeks in his hands.

“I love you,” he repeats as he opens his eyes and looks into yours. There was very much a different kind of look in his eyes this time. A look that told you how much he really meant what he said. There was a hint of fear in his eyes too as he genuinely feared that he may lose you sooner or later to these stupid games.

“I know,”

[burrowlvrr]

— MORTGAGE MISCHIEF, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Y/N caves in and makes a TikTok account, and it doesn't take long for her to try to prank her unserious husband.

NOTE: I love this trend on TikTok so freaking much, bro, I just couldn't help myself. I wish there was more pranks going around TikTok so I could write another one lol! Feel free to send me more ideas and suggestions, enjoy!

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

Y/N had never been the kind of person to keep up with social media trends. Her Instagram was mostly filled with family snapshots, vacation photos, and the occasional throwback post from her college days. TikTok, though? That was a whole different ballgame.

She’d heard the buzz about it, of course—the dances, the memes, the endless rabbit hole of videos that could steal hours of your day—but it wasn’t really her thing.

That is, until some of Joe’s fans started flooding her DMs.

It wasn’t unusual for her to get messages from fans, most of them kind and supportive, occasionally sprinkled with the usual social media chaos. But after a family photo Joe posted went viral—a candid shot of the two of them laughing while their kids played in the background—her inbox blew up.

Several people had suggested she start a TikTok account, saying things like, “Your family is so cute, we’d love to see more of you guys!” and “Please post more videos of Joe being a dad; it’s the content we all need!”

At first, she brushed it off. The idea of putting her family out there in such a public way made her hesitant. Their life was private, cozy, and real—did she really want to open that up to the internet? But the messages kept coming, and her curiosity eventually got the better of her. One evening, after the kids were asleep and Joe was watching game highlights, she downloaded the app.

It didn’t take long for TikTok to reel her in. The first few days, she lurked quietly, scrolling through endless videos of clever pranks, hilarious parenting fails, and, of course, a whole section of TikToks dedicated to football wives and girlfriends. It was the pranks that hooked her.

Women were pulling the funniest, most creative stunts on their unsuspecting husbands—pretending to be mad over made-up arguments, mispronouncing their favorite athletes’ names, and her personal favorite, casually dropping bombshell “confessions” to see how their partners would react.

She couldn’t resist.

“This would be perfect for Joe,” she’d said to herself one night, already grinning at the thought. He was so even-keeled most of the time, but his sass came out when he was caught off guard, and she couldn’t wait to see what he’d say.

So, Y/N started posting. At first, it was just lighthearted videos of their kids, like Hudson and Elijah racing each other in the backyard or Sawyer trying to crawl after their dog, who always managed to stay just out of reach. The comments poured in, full of love and laughter, and she started to feel less nervous about sharing these little moments. And then came the pranks.

She eased into them, starting small—things like pretending to forget what day of the week it was or asking Joe if she could switch his game-day hoodie with one of hers. His reactions were gold, and her videos started gaining traction. She didn’t know how many people would find it so funny, but apparently, the internet loved Joe Burrow getting pranked as much as she did.

Which is how she found herself, phone in hand, ready to execute her latest and possibly best trend yet: the “I can’t pay the mortgage this month” prank.

The living room buzzed with the quiet hum of family life. Hudson and Elijah were seated cross-legged on the rug, their faces scrunched in concentration as they connected Lego pieces, the colorful blocks scattered across the coffee table like a mini construction zone. Sawyer, their youngest, was on the floor nearby, rolling lazily on her playmat while holding her bottle with both hands, occasionally babbling nonsense to herself.

Joe was stretched out on the couch, the epitome of relaxation in his gray hoodie and sweatpants, his wife’s legs comfortably draped over his thighs. His focus was glued to the MMA fight playing on the TV, and he absently stirred his spoon around a bowl of cereal balanced in his hand.

Every so often, he’d let out a low, “Oof,” reacting to a particularly hard punch or takedown, his body slightly tensing with the action on screen.

Y/N sat beside him, phone in hand, scrolling through TikTok. She stumbled across the trend a few hours ago, and decided that now was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Glancing sideways at Joe, she smirked to herself. This will be fun.

She adjusted her phone subtly, angling it to record, and cleared her throat dramatically. “Joe?”

“Hmm?” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen as he scooped another bite of cereal.

“I need to tell you something,” she said softly, injecting a hint of nervousness into her tone.

Joe didn’t look up. “What’s up, baby?”

“Don’t get mad at me, okay?” she added, biting her bottom lip to suppress a grin.

That got his attention. Joe’s hand froze midair, his spoon hovering over the bowl, and he turned his head toward her, squinting slightly.

“What? Why would I get mad?” His sharp gaze shifted to the phone in her lap. “Wait… why’re you recording? You pregnant again?”

Y/N burst out laughing at his assumption, unable to keep up her serious facade. “What? No!”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause that’s how you told me about Sawyer,” he replied with a smirk, leaning back on the couch and rubbing his free hand over his face.

“You just pulled out your phone, started recording, and bam—‘Congratulations, you’re gonna be a dad again!’” Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help giggling. “I’m serious, Joe. This is important.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, setting his cereal down on the side table and shifting so he was facing her fully. “What’s going on? And why are you being all dramatic about it?”

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself before delivering her line. “I, uh… I won’t be able to pay the mortgage this month.”

Joe blinked at her, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Girl, what are you talking about?” His tone was casual but tinged with disbelief.

She tried to keep her composure, clasping her hands together as if pleading. “The school’s on winter break, so my paycheck isn’t going to be enough. I just—ugh, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Joe stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Okay, wait. How much is the mortgage?”

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “Uh… like… $2,000?” she guessed, feigning confidence.

Joe’s mouth twitched, and he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Babe. You don’t even know how much it is, do you?”

“Well…” she stalled, trying to recover.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms. “You’ve never paid the mortgage.”

“I know!” Y/N blurted, throwing her hands up dramatically. “I was going to as your Christmas present, but my paycheck won’t be enough now!”

Joe’s brow furrowed again, but this time his lips quirked upward, unable to hide his amusement. “So let me get this straight. You don’t know how much the mortgage is. You’ve never paid it before. And now you’re stressed because your Christmas present was gonna be paying it, but you can’t?”

“Exactly!” she said, doubling down.

For a moment, Joe just stared at her, then he broke into a deep laugh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You’re crazy,” he muttered, shaking his head. Grabbing his cereal bowl, he leaned back against the couch.

“Don’t worry about it, babe. I got it.” He scooped another spoonful and took a bite like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Y/N couldn’t hold it in any longer. She burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as she nearly dropped her phone.

Joe raised an eyebrow at her, still chewing. “What’s so funny now?”

“It was a TikTok prank!” she wheezed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

Joe’s smirk deepened as he shook his head. “Yeah, I figured. There’s no way you were being serious.”

“You were so calm about it, though!” she said, still laughing. “I really thought I’d get a bigger reaction out of you!”

“Nah,” Joe replied, reaching over to pinch her ankle playfully. “You’re too bad at lying, babe. Next time, at least Google how much the mortgage is first.”

From the floor, Hudson looked up from the Lego set with a curious expression. “What’s a mortgage?”

Joe snorted, pointing his spoon at his son. “Something you don’t gotta worry about, buddy.”

Elijah chimed in without looking up from his Legos. “Mommy’s bad at pranks.”

Sawyer let out a happy babble from her playmat, almost as if she agreed.

Joe laughed, pulling Y/N closer with one arm. “Looks like the jury’s unanimous, babe. Better luck next time.”

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism Boys - Meeting Your Parents

G/N. Headcanons on what your parents would think. Goo, Jake, Gun, Samuel, Ryuhei. Masterlists

Both are absolutely two sides of the same coin. Either way, your parents will be so charmed by Goo or Jake that they wish they were the ones dating him instead.

Goo is hilarious. In a mean bitchy way, that even though he is laughing at other people rather than with - he's laughing with your parents at other people so this slips pass their radar.

They are caught up with his quips and sharp tongue and honeyed words that they happily go along with this ride, trading numerous inside jokes by the end of the meeting, giggling together like a bunch of school children.

It helps that he's also dressed head to toe in hard to miss designer labels, and brings lavish gifts for them too. No, their affection and approval can't be bought but well, it doesn't hurt to try.

Jake is the son your parents wish they had, insult to their actual sons be damned. Or the person they wish they had met if they were twenty years younger, sexuality be damned.

And yes, Jake would pull out the cheesy lines like (gesturing to your mother) "Y/N, you didn't tell me you had a sister!" and dad jokes to your own dad. He would be so insufferably charming about it that it would inevitably work and win them over in no time at all.

Unlike Goo, so what if Jake's finances are tight right now? And his prospects are a little questionable? He clearly loves you and is a Good Guy. You two are young, he can work that out in due course.

There's a powerful aura emitting from Gun and your parents don't know what to make of it. Is it ok that you're seemingly with this dangerous man? With the unusual eyes and scar between his eyes?

This would have put their backs up more but Gun, to your surprise, is capable of showing exceptional manners. He is super respectful in their presence. Deep bows, good etiquette, and formal honorifics. They can't help but be reassured that if he is this respectful of them, then surely he will be of you.

Gun's demeanour is generally stiff and serious. He's quiet and doesn't talk much, though they don't miss the way he softens when he looks at you. Nor his patience when you revert back to being a sulky child when you're in your parent's presence too long.

They approve, mostly. But will always be a little uneasy around Gun.

At first glance, or first meeting, Samuel is clearly a guy that thinks a lot about himself. Unfortunately it shows to your parents too.

To his credit, his ego and confidence is inflated but the way he treats you is surprisingly tender. And despite the pedestal he sometimes likes to put himself on, he puts you on an even higher pedestal. Which can be both positive and negative. To your parents though, it's good that he obviously treats you well.

Sammy does turn on the charm a little, walking the thin line between flattering and smarmy - a bit like how he is with Eugene. Most of all, your parents are impressed with his prospects (something Jake, unfortunately, lacks).

Excellent career prospects, property, assets, finance. Even if he is a bit up his own ass, at least he can look after you.

Ryuhei has never ever met a partner's parent, and it shows with how tense he is. A complete surprise for you to see your happy-go-lucky puppy so anxious.

He relaxes each time you give him a small smile or squeeze his hand in a comforting gesture.

Your parents, to be honest, don't think much of him. Not to say they think he's bad for you, they just don't form much of an opinion of him during the first meeting.

The second meeting, however: 'Poor guy,' your parents think. He is wrapped around your finger and he's too head over heels to even kick up a fuss whenever you're being unreasonable or bratty.

He tries to charm them, which is a bit hit and miss but it's so so obvious how much he adores you and hangs on to your every word that even they become a bit worried about his well being and you taking advantage of him.

Not that you would... maybe.

[tempobaekh]

Jacked and kind super soldier

Pairings: bucky barnes x civilian!f!reader

Warnings: FLUFFF, cutie, bucky being jacked and kind, maybe ooc bucky?

A/N: this trend is the cutest this everrrr. i HAD to write it for my fav super soldier. i also read a rafe cameron one somewhere a bit ago and got inspired by that lol. also I KNOW THAT IS THE HYDRA ARM IN THE PICTURE i just needed a picture of his metal arm kinda flexing.

The weekend was your sanctuary—a blissful retreat where the rest of the world melted away, leaving just you and Bucky in the warm cocoon of your apartment. The soft hum of the shower from the bathroom filled the air as you lounged on the couch, your phone in hand, scrolling through TikTok aimlessly. Alpine was curled up on the armrest, purring softly as if she, too, reveled in the peace.

As you swiped through your feed, a familiar trend popped up—a montage of strong men lifting their girlfriends effortlessly while Sabrina Carpenter’s “Slim Pickins” played in the background. The lyrics floated through your mind: “A boy who’s jacked and kind…”

Each video showed the guy flashing a proud smile, flexing an arm while the girl laughed, clearly enamored by the display of strength. A wistful sigh escaped your lips. The trend wasn’t new; you’d seen it countless times but never mustered the courage to ask Bucky to try it.

Bucky was still adjusting to modern life, often overwhelmed by the ever-changing whirlwind of social media and trends. While he was always a good sport about trying new things, you were careful not to overwhelm him, only occasionally roping him into your TikTok antics. Even then, you had maybe two or three TikToks of you both on your account.

But this trend? This trend stirred a little thrill in you. You couldn’t help but wonder—how would it feel to be hoisted onto his shoulder, his strength so effortless it was almost unfair? Would he smile that soft, proud smile you loved so much? Would he flex just to humor you?

Your lips twisted thoughtfully. Could you even ask? Would he think it was silly?

“Just ask,” you mutter to yourself, biting your lip as you stare at the video again. The sound of the shower shutting off jolts you out of your thoughts. Moments later, Bucky steps out into the living room, his dark hair damp and tousled, a gray t-shirt clinging to his broad chest. Alpine immediately perks up, trotting over to greet him.

“Hey, doll,” he says with a warm smile, rubbing a towel through his hair. “What’re you up to?”

You stand, heart thudding slightly as you approach him. “Buck, can I ask you for a favor?”

His brows furrow slightly, curiosity flickering in his stormy blue eyes. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Well...” you start, clutching your phone like it’s a lifeline. “There’s this trend on TikTok I’ve seen a lot. It’s harmless, I swear! But it involves... you lifting me. For a video.”

Bucky tilts his head, his expression a mix of amusement and confusion. “Lifting you? Like how?”

You quickly explain, pulling up the video and showing him. As he watches, you can see the flicker of understanding cross his face, followed by a soft chuckle.

“So, you want me to do that?” he asks, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

“Yes,” you say with an embarrassed laugh, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “But only if you’re okay with it!”

He pauses for a moment, then shrugs. “Why not? Seems harmless enough. And if it makes you happy...”

Your face lights up, and you throw your arms around him. “Thank you, Buck!"

Setting your phone up on the coffee table, you adjust the camera angle until both of you are perfectly framed. The familiar 10-second countdown begins, and you quickly fluff your hair, glancing back at Bucky, who’s standing behind you with an easy smile.

“Ready?” you ask, your voice tinged with excitement.

“Ready when you are, doll.”

The countdown hits zero, and the familiar opening notes of “Slim Pickins” filled the room. Before you can even do a little jump to help him, Bucky’s large hands—one warm, the other cool and firm—grip your waist. In one effortless motion, he hoists you onto his shoulder like you weigh nothing, his flesh arm supporting you.

“Bucky!” you gasped, laughing as you suddenly found yourself perched on his shoulder, your legs dangling. You clung to his shirt instinctively, though you knew he’d never let you fall.

He looked up at you with that soft, proud smile you adored.

Then, to your utter delight, he glances at the camera and flexes his metal arm, the vibranium glinting under the soft light. You giggle uncontrollably, your cheeks aching from the sheer happiness coursing through you.

When the music ends, he gently sets you down, his hands lingering at your waist as he looks at you with a soft smile. “How’d I do?”

“Amazing,” you say breathlessly, darting over to grab your phone and watch the video. The grin on your face only widens as you replay it.

Bucky walks over and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’re cute when you’re excited, you know that?”

“Thank you for doing this,” you say, leaning back into his warmth.

“Anything for you, doll,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Later, as you upload the video, the comments start pouring in, and each one makes you laugh harder.

Each comment had you laughing harder, while Bucky groaned in mock exasperation. “What is wrong with people?” he muttered, though the pink tint to his ears betrayed his embarrassment.

“Oh, c’mon,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “You’re the internet’s new heartthrob. Own it.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “As long as you’re happy, doll.”

You leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Always. Thank you for indulging me.”

“Like I said, anything for you,” he said softly, pulling you into a warm embrace.

You snuggle closer to him, your heart full as he pulls you against his chest. For a moment, the world fades away, leaving just the two of you and the easy comfort of being together.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[jjscrybaby]

thinking about “who did this to you?” and frat!boy rafe 🤭 his girl is always at his frat house and one night at a party, he’s looking for her and can’t find her. He eventually finds her crying and maybe with light bruises on her wrists or something? protective frat!rafe 🥰

rafe cameron x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (creepy guy, wrist grabbing, bruising, protective!rafe, mentions of anxiety, sort of shy!reader,)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The lights were giving you a headache. Topper thought it was funny to repetitively switch the main light on and off, to try and give the room a rave vibe. Most people inside were too fucked up to be annoyed by it, but you weren’t. You’d only had two vodka cranberries, and honestly all you wanted to do was crawl into Rafe’s bed and go to sleep.

During the majority of these parties you’d be glued to your boyfriend’s side, hanging off his arm like a trophy, but tonight was different. You were trying to branch out more, stop being so anxious at these things. Rafe loves a party, and being his girlfriend you should as well. So, for the last hour you’ve been roaming around; making minimal contact with him.

You left the main room with a huff, rubbing your temple as you walked out into the hall. There was no-one in sight, and you let out a sigh of relief that you had a moment alone. You sat down on the floor, leaning your head back against the wall. The door to the bathroom opened and a boy, one you hadn’t seen before, walked out.

“You alright?” He asked, looking down at you in amusement.

“I’m fine, just takin’ a break,” you explained. You didn’t want to speak to him, but it would be rude to send him away; especially with the mission you were on tonight.

“Mind if I join you?” He questioned. You didn’t even get to respond, he was already sitting down next to you. “I’m Parker, by the way.” You introduced yourself, shaking his outstretched hand. “Ah, you’re Cameron’s girl?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, just the mention of him had your mood lifting. Maybe you should just give up with the outgoing thing, maybe you should just go and find—

“You don’t seem like his type.” The statement caught you off guard, all thoughts leaving your head as you looked at him with furrowed brows.

“What does that mean?” You wondered, trying to sound calm.

He let out a hum, as if deep in thought, before shrugging his shoulders and giving you a smirk. “Rafe’s, like, into all this shit, y’know? Parties, drinking, drugs. You’re sat in the hallway alone.”

“Opposites attract,” you shrugged back, picking at the pink nail polish on your nails.

“That is the saying,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “I just think maybe, a pretty girl like you, deserves someone that’s more like her. Someone that would sit with her in the hallway, for example.”

You thought he was degrading you, like the rest of Rafe’s fanboys usually did. But, you realised now that wasn’t the case. He was your fanboy. You let out an awkward chuckle, looking to the door that hadn’t opened since you stepped out. You prayed for someone, anyone, to need the bathroom.

“I’m gonna head back in—” you decided to screw the anxiety, and just do what was necessary.

“Why?” He interrupted. He didn’t sound quite so friendly anymore. “We’re hangin’ out, don’t go in yet.”

“I need to find Rafe.” You tried to stand, but his fingers gripped onto your wrist to stop you. You winced in pain, his hold only tightened. “Get off.”

“No—” your prayers were answered as the door opened, a drunken couple came stumbling through. The sudden interruption had him letting go of you, and you swiftly rushed away.

You ran upstairs, through the corridor of boy’s bedrooms, until you reached Rafe’s. With tears in your eyes, you pushed open the door and laid down in his bed.

It only took ten minutes for the door to open again, you flinched; thinking that maybe Parker had followed you up here, but you let out a shaky sigh of relief at the sight of Rafe.

“Hey, baby. There you are, been lookin’ all over— are you crying?” He interrupted himself, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No,” you blatantly lied through your tears, voice coming out muffled.

He wrapped his arms around you, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Hey, what happened? It get a bit overwhelmin’? You could have told me, you know I’d much rather sit up here with you.”

“Not exactly…” you reached up to move your hair from your eye-line, you realised your mistake the moment that gentle look in his eyes dropped.

“What is that?” He grabbed your arm, not harshly but forcefully. Your wrist had turned a bright red colour, bruises would be forming soon enough.

“Nothing!” You squeaked out, trying to pull your arm away from him.

“Don’t bullshit me. That wasn’t there earlier. What happened?” He demanded to know. You knew he was serious, the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice.

You gave in, tears rolling down your cheeks as you explained to him what happened with the boy. He stroked over your wrist, a moment of silent going over the two of you before he leant forward and kissed your temple.

“Get changed, put on a movie. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” He murmured softly.

“Where’re you going?” You asked nervously, you were pretty sure you already knew the answer.

“To sort out that fuckin’ kid. No one puts their hands on you, get it?” He stated, pecking your lips before getting off the bed.

You didn’t argue, there was no point. Rafe was too in love with you, if someone hurt you he’d do just about anything to get payback.

[gudfornuthin]

Want You So Bad

Dae-ho/number 388 x fem!reader

(MDNI)

A/N: No thoughts, just Dae-ho. I thought these anon asks worked well together so I’ve combined them into one. I hope this is what you guys wanted, and apologies for my poorly written smut lol. (Also apologies if the Korean isn’t correct, copied it from a romanised version on Google) Feedback is appreciated :)

“Dunggulge dunggulge, jjak

Binggeulbinggeul doragamyeo chum-eul chupsida

Sonppyeogeul chimyeonseo, jjak

Noraereul bureumyeo, jjak

Rallallalla jeulgeoupge chumchuja

Ringga ringga ringga, ringga ringga ring Sone soneul japgo modu da hamkke jeulgeoupge twieo bopsida”

Standing on the turning floor, your vision is going dizzy and your stomach is churning. There’s blood everywhere, and you’re trying not to think about all the people who were killed in the last round. You almost didn’t make it. But you got lucky. Mainly because of the man standing next to you.

You look to your left, Dae ho’s side profile devoid of any emotions. You’d only known each other for a couple of days (at least that’s what you thought. Time in here is weird) but you’d already grown close. Closer than you expected to with anyone in this nightmare fuelled place. But you trusted him the most. And he’d also saved your life during red light green light.

He finally feels your stare and turns to look at you. He smiles slightly. “You okay?”

He knows you’re not, but you smile back either way. “Yeah.”

The floor suddenly stops moving, and the lights dim. The group prepare for their next number.

“Five.”

Chaos ensues, as everyone begins to panic, grabbing and pulling, hoping they have the right amount of people. Dae ho holds your hand, as he quickly follows Gi hun, and two other people you’re yet to know the names of. You run as fast as you can, trying to find an available room.

Just as you’re about to make it to one of the doors, someone slams into you hard, knocking you off your feet and losing Dae ho’s firm grip.

“Y/N!” You hear him exclaim, before completely losing sight of him and the others.

The thought of dying consumes you as reality sets in. You feel like screaming and throwing up the little food they’d given you last night. Before you have the chance, strong arms lift you up and drag you to an open door. Getting a grip on your footing, you rush into the room, just as the timer runs out. The door locks and gunshot can be heard from outside your safe space.

Breathing heavily, you feel a soft touch on your back, rubbing up and down.

“Are you alright?”

You glance to the side, the number ‘333’ catching your attention first. You look up to be met by the kind eyes of your saviour. You nod rapidly, still trying to catch your breath.

“You saved my life,” is the only thing you can say.

He laughs halfheartedly. “You sort of saved ours too.”

You stand up to your full height, remembering the other people in the room with you. You quickly thank them as well and they nod.

“I’m Myung gi by the way,” player 333 says.

“Y/N,” you reply, smiling at each other.

The door unlocks as everyone slowly makes their way out. As you leave the room, yelling can be heard from across the room. It’s Dae ho. You see him push a player you don’t recognise up against the wall, as he continues screaming in their face.

“She’s dead because of you!”

You rush over, hoping to stop this before it turns into a full blown fist fight.

“Dae ho!” You call out.

He stops what he’s doing and frantically searches for you. Your eyes meet, and he lets the player go, running over to meet you halfway. He throws his arms around your waist, shocking you briefly, but also wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He squeezes you tight, his face buried in your neck.

“I’m okay,” you whisper. “I’m fine.”

Dae ho pulls away and holds you at arms length. “I thought they killed you. I just… what happened?”

You feel a presence behind you, and turn to find Myung gi standing awkwardly a few steps behind. You nod at him to come closer, taking him by the arm. Dae ho flinches slightly at the motion.

“I was a goner, had it not been for my knight in shining armour here grabbing and saving me.”

Myung gi laughs at the nickname you give him. “Don’t sell yourself short. We saved each other really.”

You continue smiling at each other, all the while Dae ho watches the sickly sweet interaction. Weird feelings bubble up in his stomach, one of relief but another of petty jealousy. He tries to brush it off, as he nods at the man standing next to you.

The game continues on for a couple more rounds, until you figure out there’s only one more to go. 126 players. 50 doors. That means only 2 people per room. You’re standing in between Dae ho and Myung gi, finding it hard to breathe.

The floor stops moving, and the number is called.

“Two.”

Both of the men on either side of you reach out at the same time to take your hand. Myung gi is faster, as he links your fingers with his and rushes towards the door in front of you. You stumble behind him, looking back and seeing Dae ho watching on like a kicked puppy. Thankfully someone grabs him as they too head for an empty room, his sad expression imprinted in your mind.

- - -

Night rolls around, and Dae ho finds it hard to fall asleep. After the last round of Mingle, Myung gi didn’t leave your side once. He seemed eager to know more about you, where you were from, and why you chose to be apart of the game. Dae ho knows it’s wrong to feel jealous. After all, he’d only known you for two days, and most of that time is spent either sleeping or trying not to be killed.

Yet it bothers him to no end. It bothered him when you two hugged at the end of Mingle. It bothered him when you two shared food with each other. It bothered him when Myung gi asked if he could sleep closer to you tonight. It shouldn’t. But it did.

Dae ho feels himself almost drift off into a deep sleep, when he hears scuffling to his right. You’re slowly getting up, rubbing your eyes and hobbling to the front of the large room. His eyes follow your every move, as you knock on the door to where the toilets are. A guard appears and after some brief back and forth, opens the door and allows you to enter.

He lies back down. You still run through his mind.

“Fuck it.”

Dae ho crawls out from under the bed and speed walks over to the door. He knocks and makes the excuse that he needs a piss. Another back and forth with the less than happy guard, but once again the door opens and he walks through.

He makes his way up the stairs and, making sure the guard isn’t paying attention, heads for the women’s bathroom. He walks in, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable and stupid. What’s the plan? Profess your love to a stranger you just met and how you can’t stand the thought of them being with anyone else? Dae ho knows you’ll tell him he’s gone mad. And maybe it’s not love. Something more intense. Something more primal. There’s only one way of finding out.

The flush of a toilet sounds as you walk out of one of the stalls, jumping slightly when you spot Dae ho by the sinks.

“Shit. You scared me.”

“Sorry.”

You walk over and stand by his side, washing your hands thoroughly, as he waits in silence.

After you’ve finished, he decides to speak up. “So, you’re getting on well with player 333?”

“Myung gi,” you respond. Dae ho doesn’t care for learning his name. “And yeah, he doesn’t really have anyone else in here to talk to and I don’t mind the company.”

He nods as you continue talking, leaning next to him on the sinks. “He also saved my life in the last game, so there’s no way I’m abandoning him now.”

Dae ho tries not to rolls his eyes, but can’t stop himself from huffing like a child. “I saved your life too but nah let’s put him on a pedestal,” he mumbles under his breath.

Unfortunately you hear what he says, sending him a puzzled look. “Do you have a problem with Myung gi?”

Dae ho stares at you, wondering how to respond. He doesn’t want to sound like a possessive, overprotective boyfriend, because he isn’t one. But he also knows it’s getting harder and harder to hide his brewing feelings for you.

“Nothing I just,” he huffs again. “I feel like you’re gonna wanna spend more time with him instead of me.”

You laugh, shocking him slightly, as you move to stand in front of him. “So just because I’ve made a new friend means I have to ditch you?”

Dae ho shrugs, feeling embarrassed and incredibly dumb.

You poke him softly in the stomach. “I like you. I wanna get to know you better. Hopefully outside of this hellhole.”

He laughs along with you now, staring deeply into your eyes. “I like you too.”

The air around you suddenly feels hot, a tension you didn’t realise was there until now. You move closer, testing the waters, and thankfully Dae ho does the same thing. One second more, and your lips lock in a passionated, heated kiss. Dae ho grips your hips hard while you run your fingers through his hair.

“Wait,” you say through the kiss. “What if one of the guards comes in?”

Dae ho shakes his head vigorously. “They don’t care. We could be killing each other in here and they wouldn’t stop us.”

“Romantic,” you reply sarcastically, as he moves to kiss your neck.

You moan, feeling your back press against the wall. Even though the guards don’t care what goes on in here, you know they’ll start to question why you’re taking so long. So, as you continue kissing Dae ho, you reach for his pants and pull them down slightly. He’s shocked at first, then quickly catches on to what you’re doing and pulls yours down a little bit too.

“Are you sure,” Dae ho tries to catch his breath. “You wanna do this?”

“I’m not stopping now.”

He lifts you up spreading your legs to wrap around his waist. You feel him push into you slowly, eliciting a gasp from your mouth. His thrusts amp up as he fills you entirely. Your make out session goes interrupted, as beads of sweat form on your skin, the taste of salt landing on your tongues.

You’re about to scream his name, when a bang on the entrance door stops you both in your tracks.

A deep voice booms from the other side. “What’s taking you so long in there?”

Dae ho puts you down on the floor, clumsily pulling his pants back up around his waist as you do the same. You’re both breathless, hair a mess and lips swollen.

“Almost done!” Dae ho calls out, not thinking of how the guard will react to him being in the women’s bathroom.

He turns to you, kissing you briefly on the lips. “We’re not finished here.”

For the first time since you came here, you couldn’t wait for another night.

- - -

Taglist

@meeeeeees-stuff @lemon-lysol @smally97 @idkidkidk22333 @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @k1michii @maymustdie @honey-whiskey-666

(Apologies for anyone I couldn’t tag)

(More to come as I have a lot more requests)

[lavenders388]

~The Type of Guy~

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ Kang Dae Ho

a/n i kno this gif isnt fully dae ho but its fully my favorite soo

not requested 💌

~⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆Kang Dae Ho is⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆~

the type of guy to make you laugh without even trying! his personality is so genuine and extroverted, anything he says he means it and he says it with his confident enthusiasm! he absolutely brightens up even the darkest of rooms (like in the games) and loves making people happy. this caught your attention at first and stayed your favorite thing, only growing as your love grows ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

the type of guy who vows the moment he meets you to protect you no matter what, this also ties into his confident and strong personality, he knows he deserves respect and so do you, and he's willing to fight for that no matter what<3 in the games he makes sure he's by your side or watching out for you and ensuring your safety. in the mingle game he won't for a second consider splitting up even if the group decides to.

the type of guy whose goal is to give you the life you deserve. if he meets you in the games, his perspective on winning the money totally changes; he decides he wants to pay off his debts and then buy a nice house for the two of you where you can spend the rest of your lives comfortably without the stress of finances. if he already knows you, he 100% joins the games because he believes he needs to be out of debt and moderately wealthy in order to be what you deserve.

the type of guy that is super super clingy to you. he loves you so much and he wants to show it in any way he can- always expect an arm around you from his tall frame, protecting you and reminding you how loved and cared for you are. he loves to cuddle, whether its on the couch watching a show during the day, or in your shared bed at night he wants to be as close to you as possible- not just to show his love for you but to make sure you feel safe and supported; as well as he just wants to hold you!!:3

the type of guy who listens to anything you say big or small, expect to get home and find that thing you briefly mentioned needing/wanting sitting on your bed ~v~

the type of guy who supports you no matter what! want to quit your job and look for a new one? he's already asked for more hours at his! want to go to uni? he's packing your lunch! want to do something out of your comfort zone? he's already cheering!

the type of guy who encourages you to have your own independence. he is absolutely in love with you having your own hobbies and things you enjoy doing! as well as he supports if you want some alone time or to be with your friends as well!

the type of guy who is the best partner ever (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

[astrcmoni]

ᯓ☆ star’s midnight caller ☆ᯓ

MASTERLIST

pairing: billie eilish x sex-hotline-operator!fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut(kinda)

synopsis: in the quiet of the night, you answer a call that pulls you into a world of mystery and intrigue. what starts as a simple conversation with a stranger turns into a connection you never expected, leaving you craving more with each ring.

wc: 2.4k

warnings: light cussing here and there

authors note: let me know what you guys think, i really liked writing this and i want to make a part two. also there’s no smut in this part but the concept of the hotline is sexual (idk if that made sense) anyways imma stop rambling byeee ☆

phone call style story — reader is in bold italics, billie is in blue italics.

————

wednesday 12:43 am — incoming call from +1 (980) 598-7201 (charlotte, NC)

“thanks so much, babygirl,” richard says from the other side of the phone, his voice soft, tinged with something like gratitude. “you always know what i need.”

richard is one of your regulars, calling at least twice a week. he likes to imagine that you’re his long-lost girlfriend, reaching out from some parallel universe. you let him ramble, your voice smooth and coaxing, playing into his fantasy like a script you know by heart. a light laugh here, a soft hum there, the occasional breathy moan when it fits the moment.

“anytime, boo,” you reply, fingers already grazing the disconnect button. “take care of yourself, okay?”

the line clicks off, leaving a brief silence that feels heavier than it should. you exhale, stretching your arms above your head as you try to shake off the remnants of his voice. just another call. just another night.

soft light spills through the corners of your room, golden and warm against the pale lavender of your walls. the curtains billow lazily, carried by a breeze that whispers through the cracked window. outside, the city hums—a distant siren wailing, cars rolling down the street below, someone leaning on their horn too long, too loud.

at your desk, you lean forward, catching your reflection in the mirror perched precariously against a stack of books. sticky lip gloss catches the lamplight, glinting like glass. your lashes look decent—lifted enough to remind you of your own femininity. normally, you wouldn’t bother. no one can see you, after all. but it helps, this small ritual. it’s armor in a way, a mask you slip behind before stepping into this role.

“alright,” you mutter, rolling your neck to release the tension settling in your shoulders. “one more call and i’m done.”

the surface beneath your elbows is cluttered—textbooks splayed open, scribbled lab reports fighting for space with overdue bills. it’s not glamorous, but it pays. and it’s enough, for now.

you adjust your headset, letting the padded cups press comfortably against your ears, and clear your throat. the practiced warmth creeps back into your voice as the phone chimes again, flashing another number across the screen.

wednesday 12:49 am — incoming call from +1 (213) 597-3492 (los angeles, california)

“hello, and thank you for calling the pulse network. this is star speaking.” your voice drops an octave, soft and inviting, the words sliding out like honey. “who do i have the pleasure of speaking with tonight?”

there’s a pause on the other end—static filling the silence like a breath held too long. then, a voice cuts through, low, smooth, and distinctly feminine.

“uh…hi?” she sounds hesitant, her voice fraying at the edges like she’s second-guessing herself. “is this…is this a-uh…hotline for…you know?”

your brows knit for a moment before relaxing. most callers know exactly what they want, their voices heavy with intent. but her hesitation feels different. delicate, almost.

“that depends,” you say, leaning forward slightly, your tone light and playful. “what are you looking for, my love?”

she exhales sharply, and you can hear the faint sound of movement—like she’s pacing, the rhythm of her footsteps soft and uneven.

“honestly?” she says after a beat, her voice quieter now. “i don’t even know why i called. jus’ bored, i guess. curious. didn’t think this would even work.”

a smile tugs at your lips, though you bite it back. calls like these are rare, but you don’t mind them. there’s something refreshing about the uncertainty, the lack of pretense.

“well,” you murmur, letting your voice wrap around the words like a velvet ribbon, “we’re here now. go ahead, tell me whatever’s on your mind. no pressure.”

there’s a pause, long enough that you glance at the timer on the screen, wondering if she’s about to hang up. but then she sighs again, the sound softer this time, like she’s giving in.

“is it weird that i’m calling?” she asks, her voice dipping into the quiet like it’s unsure of its place.

“no judgment here, love. everyone has their reasons.” your response is soft, easy, laced with practiced charm. but something about her feels different.

“i don’t even know mine.”

the line falls into silence again, thick and heavy, broken only by the sound of her breathing—steady, almost meditative. it’s the kind of silence that feels like it’s waiting for you to fill it, but instead, you let it linger, listening.

“what’s your name?”

you blink, caught off guard. most callers don’t ask that unless it’s part of the fantasy they’re crafting. most don’t care to know.

“well, what do you want it to be?” you counter, your voice tipping into something playful.

she laughs softly, the sound low and throaty, curling through the line like smoke. “no, that’s not what i asked. i wanna know your name.”

there’s a pause as you weigh her words, the sincerity behind them.

“star,” you say finally, keeping it professional, your tone steady. “you can call me star.”

“what’s your real name?”

her question lands heavier than it should. it’s not forceful, not even intrusive. just curious. like she’s asking for a story rather than a fact.

you hesitate, fingers tracing the edge of your desk absentmindedly. something about her voice makes you want to give in, but you push the temptation aside, slipping easily into deflection.

“you know, most people don’t ask me that,” you murmur. “they usually want to know what i look like, what i’m wearing. things like that.”

“guess i’m not most people, then.”

“come on, you’re telling me you’re not even a little curious?”

she chuckles, warm and low, the kind of laugh that sticks in your chest. “okay, i’ll bite. what are you wearing, star?”

you smirk, leaning back in your chair as the city hums faintly through the open window.

“blue and black pajamas” you reply, your tone light. “lace trim. very cute, if i do say so myself.”

“where’d you get it?”

“some victoria’s secret around my city. they were having a sale.”

“cute.” her voice dips, carrying a hint of a smile. “now, back to my question.”

you roll your eyes, though there’s no edge to it. she’s persistent, you’ll give her that.

“you’re just gonna have to call me star. can’t give you my name. not tonight, sorry sweetheart.”

“no, it’s okay.” she pauses, then repeats it, like she’s trying it on. “well, star.” there’s something deliberate about the way she says it, slow and careful, testing its weight. “i’m billie.”

her name sits soft and sure in the air, settling between you like it belongs.

“you seem like a billie.”

“do i?”

“mhm,” you hum, leaning forward against the desk. “so, billie. what do you want to talk about?”

“hmm.” she draws the sound out thoughtfully, the silence stretching just long enough to make you wonder if she’ll answer. “why do you do this?”

the question hits you in a way you don’t expect, cutting through the usual rhythm of calls. most people don’t ask—don’t even think to ask.

you consider lying, giving her something easy, but the weight of her question lingers, tugging at the edges of your honesty.

“it pays the bills,” you admit finally, your voice soft. “and it’s not as bad as people think. i meet some…very…interesting people.”

“like me?”

the corner of your mouth quirks up, her words pulling at something playful in you.

“you tell me. are you interesting?”

“guess that depends.” she pauses, her voice curling with quiet amusement. “you think i’m interesting so far?”

“so far? i’ll give you a solid maybe.”

her laughter spills through the line, warm and unexpected, and it lingers in your room long after it fades.

“oh really? how long have you been doing this?”

“for about…” you pause, eyes flicking up to the ceiling like the answer might be scrawled there. “for about a little over a year now.”

“damn. that’s a long ass time.”

you chuckle, the sound warm and easy. “it is, isn’t it? i don’t know, i don’t mind it though. all i do is answer the phone. sometimes i do schoolwork, cook—small things like that. not like i necessarily have to be fully present for it, as long as i’m paying attention, you know?”

“you’re in school? just exactly how old are you?”

“wait—before we continue, you’re aware it’s a dollar seventy-five per minute, right?”

“uhh, i wasn’t, but i don’t mind it.”

“ooh, so you’re rich then?”

she laughs, a low, honeyed sound that settles in your chest. “i wouldn’t say that. i’d say i’m… comfortable.”

“only rich people say they’re comfortable. but to answer your question, i’m twenty, in my junior year. babe, you?”

“okay, not bad. i’m twenty-three. though i did think you were much older.”

you snort, rolling your eyes even though she can’t see it. “not bad? we’re practically the same age.”

“mm, i got about three years on you, so… no,” she laughs, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “what are you majoring in?”

“criminology. mainly forensics and things like that.”

“that’s so fucking cool. so you’re like those people on tv who examine bodies and shit?”

“yeah, but doing it in real life is way different than it looks on tv.” you close your eyes, the memory of your first dissection flashing briefly. “especially lab work. but you get used to it after a while.”

“still, that’s badass. you must be super smart.”

the compliment catches you off guard, heat crawling up your neck. “i guess you could say that,” you mutter, a quiet smile tugging at your lips.

the conversation flows easier after that, like water finding its way downhill. you don’t even realize when you’ve moved to your bed, your headset cast aside as her voice fills your room through the speaker.

she asks you everything—your favorite movies, the hobbies that keep you up at night, the kind of music that makes your soul hum. the questions are simple but intimate, slipping past your usual defenses like she’s known you for years.

and you answer her. honestly, without hesitation. there’s something about her voice, warm and unhurried, that pulls the truth out of you.

you find yourself smiling, more than you have in days, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as you lean into the sound of her. it feels oddly intimate—like a late-night call with someone who’s already carved out a space in your life.

“so,” she asks after a lull, her voice soft but curious, “what’s your favorite movie?”

you grin, closing your eyes as you let the answer roll off your tongue. “pulp fiction. it’s a classic, don’t judge me.”

“no judgment. i respect it. but you gotta admit, it’s a little basic.”

“oh, and you’re not basic? let me guess—you’re gonna say something artsy like ‘a clockwork orange’ or whatever.”

“wrong. mine’s ‘the shining.’”

“oh, so you’re a horror girl. noted.”

she laughs, the sound warm and easy, and you realize you don’t want the conversation to end. not yet. not with her voice lingering in your room like this.

“what about you?” you murmur, breaking the soft rhythm of silence that had settled between you.

“hm? what about me?” her voice lilts, curious but guarded.

“what do you do? like for work?”

there’s a pause, long enough that you wonder if she’s going to sidestep the question entirely. but then she exhales, the sound quiet, like she’s carefully letting something go.

“i’m a musician,” she says finally, her words tentative, like they might break if handled too roughly. “or i guess i was… i teach music now.”

her admission catches you off guard, a flicker of something vulnerable passing through the connection. but you don’t press her, sensing that whatever she’s offering is enough for now. instead, you let the conversation drift, carried by the quiet ebb and flow of her voice.

the hours blur like watercolors, the world outside fading until there’s only her.

eventually, her tone softens, the edges of her words rounding with sleep. “it’s getting late. i should let you go,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

you glance at the alarm clock on the wall, the soft red digits blinking 3:35 a.m. back at you. exhaustion tugs at you, but the thought of ending the call feels heavier than it should.

“but…” her hesitation pulls you back to her. “can i call you again? i had a really good time.”

your heart stumbles over itself, a small hitch in your chest. “yeah, of course you can.” your voice dips into something softer, something closer to truth. “i had a good time too.”

“great. goodnight, star.” there’s a smile in her voice, light and unguarded, and it lingers in the air even after she’s gone.

“goodnight, billie.”

the line goes quiet, and for a moment, you sit there, the warmth of her voice still brushing against you like an afterglow.

you slip off your bed, padding into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. the cool water shocks your skin, but it doesn’t chase away the heat curling low in your stomach.

when you return to your room, the lamp clicks off with a soft snap, plunging the space into shadows broken only by the shifting colors of your tv. you slide under the covers, the faint hum of a late-night rerun filling the silence. the images blur on the screen, but all you can think about is her voice, the way it clung to the edges of the night, soft and sure.

a ding pulls you from your thoughts. your phone glows faintly on the nightstand, and you reach for it, the sudden brightness making you blink.

new transactions — 4:03 a.m.

+1 (254) 783-0184 (dallas, TX) - $26.25

+1 (980) 598-7201 (charlotte, NC) - $43.75

+1 (213) 597-3492 (los angeles, CA) - $315.62

you smile, the corners of your lips twitching up involuntarily. it’s nothing unusual, but tonight it feels different, lighter somehow. you turn the screen off and set the phone back down, a quiet sense of contentment settling over you.

for the first time in a long time, you find yourself looking forward to your next call.

inspired by @whore-era

astrc’s tag list: @zendayasredbottoms @bilsdillldough @billiesrighthand @watercolorskyy @bilssturns ; hit my asks saying “add to taglist” if you want to be on my regular taglist for all billie content!

[gothicfied]

Se-mi / Player 380 Headcanons

Pairing: Se-mi / Player 380 x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, blood (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff

જ⁀➴ With your luck, you weren't only stuck in a literal death game with 455 other players, you were also immediately taunted by arguably the most annoying two. For some reason, neither Thanos nor Nam-gyu could leave you alone. The former was grinning from ear to ear, making suggestive comments and the latter just leaned against the metal railing, nodding along. No matter how often you told them to leavd you alone or go away, they didn't. Until someone else approached, at least:

"Alright, fun's over, leave her alone." It was a girl, Player 380, who told them to break it up and leavd you alone. She practically shooed them away, tugging on Thanos' sleeve and just said "Yeah, yeah whatever." to their protests.

જ⁀➴ From then on, Se-mi just kind of took you in, and you accepted that gratefully. Her unbotherd nature and the way she wasn't even scared in the slightest, at least she didn't appear so, made you admire her. And, when you appeared to be scared or shaken up, she nudged your shoulder with hers, giving you a 'Everything-will-be-fine' kind of look.

જ⁀➴ Often times you found yourself talking with her back in the dorm area, but she just kind of listened. Se-mi appeared to be more secluded, but she made sure to take her time with listening about your thoughts or plans or whatever that was on your mind and you needed to get out. Her presence was calming and the things she said seemed very genuine.

જ⁀➴ She'd speak up for you in any moment that you couldn't yourself, giving you the voice you needed. Somehow, through your few interactions, she pretty much figured out what kind of person you were. Most of your view points matched up exactly, which made both of you smile everytime you noticed it.

જ⁀➴ Late at night, Se-mi would sneak over to your bed, claiming she wasn't tired at all and would much rather talk to you than sit alone with her thoughts. She'd tell you about her past and why she agreed to join the game, and you listened intently. After all, it was the first and only time she opened up to you in there. She said that it was something about you that made her feel safe, so you'd have a right to know about her and her motivations.

જ⁀➴ During the mingle, after listening to the game's rules, Se-mi grabbed your hand without an explanation and didn't let go until it ended. She just needed to make sure you made it out alive and she'd drag you from point A to point B if that's what needed to happen.

"Stay close to me," you could sense her distress in the way she gripped your hand, hers feeling cold against your skin, "don't you dare let go of me, yeah?" You looked up at Se-mi, urgency very noticeable in her eyes. "Don't worry, we'll make it out of here."

જ⁀➴ When stepping out of one of the rooms after the last round, Se-mi looked at the blood smeared across the white floor, her eyebrows knitted together. Admittedly, this was the most emotion you saw of her in the few days you got to know her. You sensed that she was probably starting to get a bit worried now, obviously, who wouldn't?

Your thumb swept over the back of her hand in a soothing way, making her head snap up to face you. Immediately, Se-mi's expression softened, which made you smile in return.

જ⁀➴ Would absolutely insult anyone who came up to you (Thanos.. Nam-gyu..) to get on your nerves again, or perhaps try to persuade you into voting to continue next time. She'd insist on sleeping on the bed next to you, just so she could be there and have a word with those guys. It made you laugh when she said that, and upon hearing that, Se-mi couldn't help but chuckle herself. You did take her very seriously regardless, tho.

જ⁀➴ While you two were eating, you discussed what you wanted to do with the prize money, besides paying off your debts. It was moreso her trying to figure out more about your private life: where you live, what your job is, if you have a partner.. Then, she'd just nonchalantly offer you some of her food that she couldn't or didn't want to finish (or maybe purposefully left it for you because you mentioned liking it. Just maybe, though).

જ⁀➴ As more groups started to form and the nights being far more dangerous now than before the second game, Se-mi suggested giving into Thanos' attempt to recruit you both for his team.

"It's better to hang around those assholes than to get stabbed, believe me." She said, rubbing her eyes. She knew you wouldn't be so keen on hanging around some junkies and Min-su, who seemed to dread being in a team with them, too. "Come on. It's for our survival. After this bullshit we don't have to see them ever again." Se-mi nudged your shoulder, giving you a grin. "Yeah, alright," you sighed, "just for you, though."

જ⁀➴ Se-mi would absolutely hate it if anyone else was depending on her. Not you though. She almost finds pride in the fact that you seem to think of her so highly, thinking she can protect you. She knows she can't fully do that, but she will definitely try to. Because, after a while, she had to admit to herself that her liking of you had gone further than just liking you as a friend.

જ⁀➴ She liked that thought. Being able to survive with you by her side, collecting that prize money and paying off your debts and then taking the rest to buy a house and maybe adopt a cat or two seemed like a pretty great plan. The thought of you being her girl made her happier than any money in the world.

[reallyromealone]

jason todd x male reader please I beg you take my money

Title: surprise babysitting

Fandom: batman

Characters: baby bats

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Jason x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, reader and Jason are parents, good dad jason

Notes:

Summary: with a son going through sleep regression, the todd-lastname family is surprised by a visit from the inlaws and somehow got free babysitting for a night

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

A crime boss.

The nightmare of Gotham's underworld.

And most of all?

A devoted husband and father.

"Jay, your brothers are here...." (Name) Called out, voice aloof while holding their six month old who waved at Tim, something they had gotten really good at doing. "Hi (name)!" Dick said happily and (name) waved tired and wandered off "what the hell do you guys want now?" Jason barked out to his siblings while Duke somehow managed to get ahold of some Oreos and Jason didn't even bother questioning it "we brought snacks! We wanna do a movie night!"

"You assholes pissed off B didn't you"

"Mind your business!" Tim barked back while walking with a bag of snacks for (name) who smiled at his in-law "thank you, Tim" he whispered while the baby fell asleep in his hold "were dealing with sleep regression so it's less than ideal to be here" (name) mumbled while their daughter woke up and whined "shh" (name) immediately started to try and calm the babe "here, lemme take him" Jason took the baby and (name) sighed with a small sense of relief.

"How about this... We hide here and watch the baby and you guys go out?"

"We just wanna sleep...."

"Booked a hotel already, you two go and let the uncles handle this" (name) looked at Jason unsure and the crime lord sighed "fuck it fine" he handed the baby over to Dick "we'll send the list" walking over to his husband, he lifted the man up "Jason!" (Name) Barked out but was promptly ignored.

-

(Name) Fretted in the hotel while Jason stripped into his boxers "babe, Dicks there and (sons name) loves Damien, they got this" Jason walked over and pulled (name) close "how about we order food... Turn on that Jacuzzi and I remove any worry from that brain" the implications made (name) hum softly while Jason kissed his neck "frankly I just want to eat food and pass out" (name) teased, causing Jason to grin "I can definitely do that, you order the food and I'll grab more pillows!"

(Name) Ordered dinner and desserts, deciding to wear Jason's shirt and having taken his pants off the second he sat in the bed, trying to keep calm for Jason and not think about the baby that they adopted... "Babe, they have those good pillows!"

(Name) Looked over to see Jason hauling armfuls of pillows with a manic grin, causing (name) to Huff out a laugh "and! They send us an update!"

(Name) Immediately took Jason's phone to see a video of Dick rocking (sons name) and Damien playing the sound of a heartbeat while Duke sang lullabies "they're surprisingly doing well" he commented, less stressed while Jason plopped on the bed "whaddya wanna watch, babe?"

Jason was cuddled into (name)s chest, wanting to be the little spoon tonight while (name) played with his hair, kissing his head occasionally, eyes slowly fluttering closed with a content huff, unaware that the baby bats were currently trying to get Bruce to make (sons name) his own outfit.

[madamechrissy]

Keep This Low Key

💜 Pairings: Choso x F!reader Rating: Explicit- MDNI

💜 Contents/Warnings: Very emotional at first, but then it lightens up and gets sweet. Light angst, heavy at the beginning, forgiveness and trying for each other, a little jealousy and hurt, lots of kissing, fingering, oral (f recieving), lots of sexual tension and feelings

💜 Word Count: this chap - 10k (long one)

💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea. Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other?

No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?

✨️Comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoy- A/N- I attempt to write a song, I am sure I failed be nice abt it lol! ✨️

Chapter Four 💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜

Chapter Five

It has been two weeks since you spoke or saw Choso. He finally stopped texting and calling a few days ago, finally stopped showing up at your work every morning with that cup of coffee that you asked your coworkers to take instead. You don't even look or respond to him, it's too far gone, it's too much.

You don't respond to Satoru either, he was clearly there for fun, which is fine but you can't believe what you've done. After being so set on sex being this end all be all, Ino’s dumping you so soon after clearly fucked you up, and hopping in bed with Choso had been the biggest mistake.

You are out with Utahime at the club, dancing together and giggling, enjoying her so much, even as you miss Choso like you live and breathe. It's all too much, and you don't know if you can ever repair what has happened, to undo the tangled mess you both had become.

You're not putting fault all on him, but you're still hurt by him. You didn't go to his concert, you hate yourself for that, but it would hurt too much to see. You sent good luck necklaces to the three of them with a note saying you were sick (you especially hate to let the boys down too) but there's not much hope for it, not when you can't stomach facing him.

If you never kissed him, you maybe could have lived your life just fine, if you never had him look at you that way, if you never slept in his arms, you could have said it was friendship. But now, even your strong, fourteen year friendship is hopelessly gone.

Take a shot.

Dance.

Laugh 

Take a shot.

Take a selfie with Utahime.

Dance more.

Laugh.

Hollow laughter, laughter that rings just wrong, your eyes aren't as bright when you look in the mirror, but you think you can puzzle together the pieces.

Men flirt.

You ignore it.

Have a drink now.

Dance under the strobe lights.

Laugh.

You're almost human, or at least you're pretending to be, and it almost works, buzzed off your ass and dancing with her helps, giggling as you all walk out in your heels to your ride helps. Taking more selfies and giggling at the reacting on Insta helps, you feel good…

Well, almost.

Choso haunts all of your damn thoughts, it’s like you can’t even imagine things before him, like this gaping hole in your chest. You are tipsy when you get home, images flash as you walk through the door, Choso holding you against it, him on his knees in front of you. Then more images of Satoru, which make you sick.

You never thought actually doing something with the guy you had it bad for since forever would bring you down so badly, it made everything snap into place, things that didn’t make any sense in your mind. It was never just sex with Choso, not from the moment he kissed you and called you beautiful, because you know what ‘just sex’ is, Choso was beyond it.

Now there was nothing left between you.

Choso hearts your pictures, and something shifts, something almost makes you sick about it, not talking to him. You crave to just forgive and forget, to act like this friendship is fixable, to act unbothered, but you can’t just go back now. The decision was made when he first kissed you on that couch, when his tongue ring clicked on your teeth, when his big hands brushed against your waist.

You see his IG is Amber free, and hers is Choso free. You don't know what that means but you can't bring yourself to care anymore, you'd tried to make any sense of any of this and have failed. When you think too much about it, about your decisions, you sob so hard your eyes burn, your cheeks sticky.

You wash your face, put your hair up into a bun, you go back to all of your routines, without Cho Bear things don't really bring you the same joy, but finally you think you can let some of the heartache mend. Snatching up a book and your favorite plush, you snuggle on the couch, buzzed and dizzy. Luckily Satoru doesn't bother you, just a dick pic here and there, you roll your eyes at him.

He was good at what he did, fuck he was real good, but it was not what you wanted, it was what you thought you had to do, to prove something to yourself, that you were inexperienced and overthinking it. But, you were wrong. Choso pushes you to your worst, and you just can't let it continue, you can’t be that girl.

Choso calls, you go to hang up and accidentally hit answer, cursing quietly, hearing the hope in his voice as he says your name.

“What is it?” You ask, tone soft but cold, you haven't talked and don't want to.

“I know you hate me, and I don't blame you. You should.” You tear up as you hear his voice breaking. 

“I don't hate you, I just can't be in your life. I'm sorry.” You sniffle, hiccuping on a cry when you set your book down.

“Will we ever be friends again?”

“I don't think so, but it's not all your fault. We both fucked up.” Choso sighs over the phone, you imagine him in your mind's eye. Sexy and shirtless maybe? Low hanging sweats? Is his hair loose and long?

“I haven't talked to Amber. I never will again.” You blink now.

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does! It does. What I did was horrible to you.”

“It's over now. Don't dwell on this. I have to go.”

“Please, please… anything I could do to make you smile again. I hate that I caused this.” You sigh shakily as you hear his crying over the phone. It almost gets to you.

“I'm okay, I promise. Choso I'll always care, I'll always be rooting for you-”

“Please, please… please forgive me.”

“I do. I'm not angry. I'm sad.” You cover your face, choking on your sobs as he does. “I don't hate you not one bit.”

“I hate myself.” You shake your head and can't stop the sobs from wracking your body.

“I know that feeling well.” You both take a breath, both hating what you've lost. “But I promise I don’t hate you, I couldn’t. Take care, please.” Your voice is just a whisper, but he hears you.

“Please, anything, I will do anything, let me make it up. Let me fix it!? I know I'm stupid, I know I was wrong. Please.” His heartbreak in his voice makes it crack over the phone, you’re devastated then.

“Just let it go, okay? Let it go.”

“I don’t want to let you go. I-”

“Good night.” You hang up quickly, cutting off whatever words could wreck your resolve, your hands violently shaking, you press them between your thighs, staring as the phone rings.

Cho Bear.

Will you miss him forever?

*****

It’s been three weeks since you last spoke to Choso now, he quit calling finally, it’s sort of like it was when you were with Ino, when you two couldn’t keep your friendship, but it’s worse because you know what you could have. God, to have even been able to go on a date with him? To imagine building something so beautiful, but instead you’ve ruined it all.

You’re shocked when Megumi and Yuuji are knocking on your door, you stand there still when Yuuji barrels you with a big hug. You sigh, hugging him back, Megumi snakes an arm around you after as well, you almost tear up a bit, thinking of how close all four of you have been so long.

“I missed you two.” You say softly, shutting the door then. “What brings you all over here?”

Yuuji swipes a hand through his pastel locks. “What did Cho do so bad that it’s been three weeks of you ignoring him?”

“Yuuji…” Megumi says with a sigh, dark eyes looking at you seriously. “What he means to say is Choso misses you, bad.”

“He’s so depressed he won’t even play.” You blink at that, looking away then.

“Won’t play? When has Choso not played?”

“He won’t even leave his room aside from work.” Megumi says, your heart breaks further and further.

“I… we can’t be friends. I’m sorry, you two.”

“What, why!? You’ve been friends almost my entire life? As long as I can remember.”

“Yuuji…”

“Did you two…” Megumi trails off, you blush furiously then. “Oh.”

“Oh what? Did what?” Yuuji’s voice annoys Megumi clearly then.

“Tch, just stop.” He looks at you now, seriously. “Is it that bad?”

You nod quietly, sighing and shutting your eyes. “He wouldn’t wanna see me anyway.”

“That’s not true, not at all. Please, just come over, you don’t even have to hang out with him, just let him see you.” Yuuji begs, yanking on her hand now, pulling you towards him so his hands can rest on your shoulders. “You’re his best friend in the world, you can’t just not be one anymore.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Your tears start running before you can stop them, Yuuji frowns, Megumi brushes a hand up and down your back. “I don’t think me and Cho can fix it.”

“So start new.” Megumi’s voice stuns you. “Start fresh, whatever happened you two can get over it. Have you never had problems, fights?”

“Of course we have. I… I’m scared to even face him.” You cover your face and start crying then, letting the weeks of despair fall out with tears as they comfort you. “Guys I can’t.”

“Just spend time with all of us. I know it would brighten his day, you don’t know how bad it is.” Yuuji’s voice breaks just a bit, and then you realize, Choso must be hurting as much as you are.

“Let me get myself together and I’ll head over.” You say with a small smile, emotional as you think of seeing him again.

Could you all ever go back to being friends, when you are so in love with him… love, yes.

Love.

You’re hopelessly in love with your former best friend, how would you play it casual, how could you even face him?

*****

Choso can’t stand not seeing you, not hearing your voice or your little laugh, god he misses your scent, your presence, your everything. Even if he couldn’t see you, he used to swing by and give you that coffee, and you turned every cup down, not even acknowledging him. The heartbreaking call last week had him finally giving up, realizing he had done too much damage.

How could he hurt you like this?

He thinks back now, to all the signals you gave, to all the clues where he has been so clueless. Choso never got attention from girls, a shy guy, a nerdy guy, it’s been the past couple of years he’s gotten popular with his band. He didn’t realize Amber was that insane over him so quickly, and even so, he saw that hurt on your face before the incident in the car.

He told you one thing but did another, and of course you’re done with him, of course you probably went home with Gojo that night, how could he blame you? There you were, painting things clearly, and here he was, not understanding a thing you meant, like the words couldn’t compute, he couldn’t fathom you felt that way.

Choso has barely left his home for the past three weeks, but for the past week he has barely left his room, guitars unplayed, notebooks left unwritten and sprawled all around his room. He can barely eat or think of anything but you, aching to call you, to see you, but he knows he can’t anymore, he knows he’d just be doing more damage, how could he be so foolish?

The doors open of his room and he grimaces then, as his little brother keeps trying to energetically get him out of the house, to give him all this hope that you two could make up, as if it’s even possible. He blinks and covers his face with his plaid blanket.

“Go away.”

“Cho?” He hears your voice then, making him jump up out of bed, sheets all rumpled and a mess, thinking he’s dreaming.

But you’re there.

You’re here.

Your eyes look just a little puffy, your lips trembling as you see him, he tries to smooth his hair, knowing he probably looks terrible, he hasn’t even showered in days he’s just rotted away. Choso struggles to pull himself together, walking towards you then, and he sees it, you’re trembling, as if you can’t even handle this, seeing him again.

But he was wrong.

When you see him like this, a whole mess and so depressed, it destroys your heart, you can’t take it, even as much as you both had messed up here, he was your closest friend in the world. He was always by your side through your heartbreaks, and you were by his side, and now? You were both suffering alone, and for what, for the fear of not forgiving each other?

Choso doesn’t even know what you’ve done, he doesn’t know you were just as bad as him, maybe worse. No, you two don’t date, but it felt wrong, what both of you did, especially in your heart, you didn’t do it for fun, you did it for some petty sense of revenge, and now it’s hard to face him, but you do. You face your best friend who looks like a mess, with his eyes glimmering with tears.

It’s quiet then, Megumi clears his throat. “Let’s give you both a minute, maybe you can make him shower?”

Yuuji nods. “Please do.”

They leave, shutting the door to Choso’s room, a room the last time you were in that he had sex with you, but was it sex? Or did he make love to you?

How he’d stared into your eyes, cupped your face so gently, how he’d asked every moment if things felt good, if you were okay. The memories make you ache, and not just physically, they make you ache for all of him, for his sweet smile again, for him to just hold you in his arms. You’re just standing there, and so is he, you both open your mouths, then shut them.

He’s clenching his fists, stepping closer now, terrified you’ll just run away, but you don’t. You stay there, looking at him, as he feels emotions in his throat, as the tears begin to fall. He steps a little closer, and you let him, giving him the silent go ahead to approach you further, your chest rising and falling with your breaths as they come faster and faster.

Another step, and your boots are toe to toe with his bare feet, and Choso is looking down at you, his hands hovering just above your shoulders, as if he’s scared to touch you. You feel the sobs building in your chest now, not a word is spoken, but seeing your best friend who you love in tears, along with your own regrets makes you break apart.

“You’re here.” He says your name then, and you break into tears when he pulls you against him for a hug, those tight ones in his strong arms you’ve loved forever, you feel so safe, so right. He’s stroking your hair, pressing you against his chest as your arms wrap his chest. “I didn’t know if I’d… if I’d… see you…”

He’s sobbing out his words, you look up through your tears, seeing him, his stubble, his dark circles as you sniffle. “I’m here, Cho.”

“Feel like I’m dreaming of you.” He squeezes you so tightly, but you crave it, you love it, against him finally.

The room is quiet, aside from both of you quietly crying, sniffling and laughing softly when you look at each other. “You do need a bath, gosh.”

“Hush.” He’s smiling, that heartbreakingly sweet smile you’ve come to love, but you have to pull back a bit, taking a breath, eyes fluttering shut when he cups your face, like you’re precious. “I missed your pretty face.”

“Did you?” You tease softly, opening your eyes, burning from tears.

“I’m so sorry for everything, I am sorry I didn’t listen, that I hurt you.” You feel almost sick now, shaking your head. “I fucked it all up, I did-”

“We both did. I have to tell you something.” He nods then, shoving aside a bunch of things to clear you a seat in his gaming chair, pulling you by it, arms on either side of you as he sits on the bed.

“Anything.”

You take a breath, hoping it will help you, but you feel sick thinking of it. “I was intimate with Gojo.”

Choso blinks long lashes, frowning before nodding. “I figured, that night maybe you slept with him?” He tries to hide the hurt in his voice, but fails.

“I didn’t have sex but… um… oral.” You feel like sinking into the goddamn carpet below you, Choso clears his throat, looking away for a moment.

“I figured so, but was it because you wanted to? Was it because he’s Gojo, an old fling? Was it… for fun? Or… was it because I pushed you there?” His heartbreak is so clear it affects you physically, you’re shifting in the seat, fiddling with your hair, sighing nervously.

“It was my decision, but it was based on seeing her with you, it hurt so bad, but it’s no excuse. I acted on impulse and felt awful.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t feel bad, please.”

“Cho I… we…”

“It’s because of me.”

“It’s not!”

“You always try to defend me, even when I’m wrong, and I was so wrong here. You tried to tell me.”

You’re nodding through more tears, he rests his forehead on yours, as you both take shaky breaths. “I did try to tell you, but now I don’t know what to do, how can we go back to how it was?”

“I don’t know but I’ll do anything, be anything for you.” Your eyes lock, his a glittering violet, dark sooty lashes wet and spiky over them.

“Maybe we should start new?” You ask softly.

“As friends?”

“I don’t know, maybe something else.” Your brace yourself for impact, but his next words fill you with so much hope.

“How about… we go on a date.”

“A date?” You blink in confusion.

“A date, me and you, I am asking you on a date. A real one, a proper one, and we get to know each other as… maybe more.” Your heart races then, you feel it, the giddiness at the thought, but then the guilt.

“You wanna date me? After what I did?” Your voice is breaking, you’re no better than him really, maybe you’re worse? What he did casually, you did in retaliation.

“Oh, sweetie…” He brushes your hair back gently, it feels so good, so perfect then, in his room, with his touch. “You did nothing wrong to me, I think it felt wrong for you though?”

“It felt wrong, so wrong. I hate myself for it.” You’re just a breath away from his lips, but both of you hold that inch apart, you bite your lower lip, his eyes dart to it, but he stays that distance.

“What you did makes sense, I’m just sorry I made you feel you had to. I don’t want games, or hurting each other anymore, please. Let’s just have a date, and if you like me, we’ll do another.” You giggle then, the sound makes his heart swell, it makes him so fucking happy, to see how it lights up your face, even as he brushes tears away, thumbs with faded black polish barely on.

“So we’re going to take things slow?” You whisper, hands gliding up his chest, making him tense then.

“Yes, you deserve slow, you deserve to be treated right, and to choose what you want. If it’s me or not, I think we should try, what’s here, this connection? It’s…”

“Epic.” He smiles then, nodding, thumb brushing against your jaw now.

“I’d die to kiss you but I’d like to earn it, please.”

“It better be something nice, now. And you’re paying.” He grins, you’re wiping his tears now, running your hand through his dark messy locks.

“I’ll pay, don’t worry. Will you wear something that shows off that perfect body of yours?”

“I could be persuaded to. But you’ll be a gentleman.”

He nods, holding your little hand over his chest. “I will be.”

You feel it, the flutters in your tummy, at the thought of something like this, it seems so silly, but you’re giddy, hopeful. “So we’re… gonna go on a date.”

“Tonight.”

“You absolutely need to shower then, I can’t with all this.” You tease, he pulls you against him tightly, kissing your cheek, your temple, hugging you just so, you feel his heartbeat on your cheek.

“I wish you could get in there, fuck I miss every bit of you.” He exhales, you feel his words hit your core, you’re aching now, clinging to him.

“I miss it too.” You look back up now at him, smiling as you both just sit there, quietly. “I’m sorry Choso.”

“I’m sorry, angel. So sorry.” You nod, trying to pull yourself together then, brushing your cheeks with shaky hands. “I will not ever let you down again, even if you hate this date, even if you decide we should be acquaintances, just any part of your life you have me in, I’ll follow.”

“Shh.” You kiss his cheek now, cheeks that tinge pink under the light brush of your lips. “You text the time, and I’ll be ready. Oh, and you better shave.”

“I will.” You smile so pretty at him, as Choso’s mind whirls once you leave. A date with you, he needs it to be perfect.

You came to him, you were real.

Yuuji and Megumi burst in now, and Choso has this silly grin on his face, much to their relief. “You better not fuck this date up.”

“You all were listening!?”

“Just to some of it! Choso!”

Megumi snorts. “He’s gonna kill you, Yuuji.”

*****

Choso pulls up in his little Mustang, you stand there so nervous in the night, having gone over twenty outfits before landing on a little black dress, you figure you can’t go wrong with that. It’s lacy on the chest, it cinches just so in the waist and flares out flirtatious, along with a black jacket since the night has a chill. You see his mouth drop when he gets out of the car, making you flush.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says softly, like he’s in awe, it makes you feel beautiful then, Choso makes you feel so much, like you are so special.

“You look handsome, Cho.” You smile up at him, taking in his black dress shirt and slacks, fitting his muscled frame so sexy. “I’ve never seen you dressed up like this? Where’d you get these?”

“Put away from a wedding.” He admits, you giggle then, the sound brightening his world, as he takes in your gorgeous face. “Your makeup is beautiful too.”

“Oh thank you! Youtube tutorial.” He grins, brushing his fingers along the backs of your cheek then.

“You nailed that shit.”

“I missed the fuck out of you.” He nods, leaning so close, dying to kiss you, but you deserve the night, a night all about you, to take it slow, so he pecks a kiss on your hand, taking it in his. “Gentleman Cho?”

“Mmhmm. My lady.” He teases, your pulse flutters in your throat as he opens the car door for you now, making a show of dramatically bowing. His hand is on your thigh when he’s driving, yours brushes the backs of his knuckles, so much still left unsaid between you, but the comfort of each other overpowers it.

“Where are we going, Sir?” He exhales, not able to handle you calling him Sir because fuck the thoughts going through his head are insane now.

“We’ll be there soon, I think you’ll like it though?”

“I’m nervous.”

“Me too.” He admits, looking at you as the lights of cars drive by, reflecting against your pretty face as he drives you through the night, catching each one of your features just so every time. “Breathtaking.”

“Oh stop.” He hums a bit, big hands squeezing your thigh gently, thumb brushing along your inner thigh now, you shift just a bit. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for being so pretty.”

“Whatever, you’re too much.” You roll your eyes and his laugh fills the car. “I hated it, Cho, being apart.”

He exhales now, grip tightening. “God, me too. I couldn’t bear it, not at least seeing you for that one minute in the morning, it hurt.”

You feel the pain in his voice, no matter how much he tries to hide it from you. “I couldn’t…”

“It’s okay, angel. I understand. You’re probably still hurting, but you’re here.”

“I am here. Terrified.”

“Me too.” Choso pulls up now, and you see it, a beautiful boat in the night, making you gasp at it.

“What!? Oh gosh, I expected a movie?”

“I thought we could have dinner here and just… talk? Relax together? Enjoy the view.” You nod excitedly, and soon you’re walking along the planks, alongside couples strolling arm and arm, Choso watches you carefully, as the breeze blows your hair around your face.

You look like art to him.

You are art to him.

“It’s gorgeous here my god!” Your hands are on the railing, looking up at the clear night sky, the gentle waves of the ocean rolling. Choso can’t keep his eyes off of you, when he agrees.

“Gorgeous.” You look to him then, heating up at his insinuation, at the way he’s looking at you so sweetly, so enamored. “I never meant to make you…”

“It’s fine, Cho.”

“No.” He tilts your chin up, with two long fingers, making you look up at him now. “I never meant to make you feel less than. Not good enough, or worthy enough, you’re worth everything.”

“Gonna make me cry right now?” You whisper, lips trembling, he aches to brush them against his, aches to make every part of you covered in his kisses.

“Just know I appreciate this night, even if it's only once.”

“Hush, Cho bear.” The nickname, so silly and cute, hits him with the nostalgia, of all the years you both were the best of friends, giggling and spending every moment together.

“I’ll hush then, let’s go eat.”

You find yourself across the table from him, you’re nervously eyeing the menu, eyes bulging out. “This is too much.”

“Stop it, please? I did really well for myself with the last show.” You hate that mention then, that you didn’t go. “Don’t be upset about it, I get it. We got your gifts which were very sweet you know.”

“I wanted to go so badly.” You look away, taking a breath, then he’s yanked his seat, dragging it across the floor with a screech, next to you, and you love it, his thigh brushing against yours, his sweet smile.

“It’s okay, I understand. I do. I know you have supported me always, I don’t know if I let you realize how much I appreciated it.”

“I can’t cry, I have on eyelashes, stop.” Choso laughs softly, leaning close and pulling up your menus.

“I’ve never gone on any kind of date to a fancy place, I wanted this to be with you, okay? It’s nothing. But…” He whispers then. “I have no clue what any of this stuff is?”

“Me either! No pictures!?” You lean over then to a couple near you, they smile at you both. “Any advice?”

“I picked the filet mignon, at least I knew the word.” She says, you giggle, nodding then and peeking at Cho.

“That one?” Soon you’re giving the waitress your order, and you can’t help but notice that she’s flirting with him, but instead of how he’d usually be sweet and hopelessly clueless, he wraps an arm around your waist, as if showing that he’s here with you.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted in one gesture.

Ino picking his ex over you, Satoru having picked random girls over you, and a serious lack of dating has made your shitty limited experience have you extra insecure, something you realized this past month. Choso even just calling you his friend, though it was true, had hurt deeply once you were intimate.

You’re trying to take it slow, one moment at a time, but god he feels so good, against you, with you. He’s cutting at your steak and feeding you little bites, you both sip wine and just enjoy each other as the boat sways through the water. It’s unlike any date you’ve had, you don’t have to get to know him, don’t have to impress him. He’s Choso Kamo, the man you’ve adored forever.

“So it’s a date, what’s your favorite color?” He teases, you snort in laughter, rolling your eyes.

“Oh stop like you haven’t known since middle school, it’s blue. What’s your favorite color, emo boy, black?”

“Emo boy!?” You are both losing it with laughter, with his every little touch, his sweet smile, he carves his damn place further in your heart.

The dessert comes, a chocolate lava cake with a scoop of ice cream, and you laugh at his messy eating, the way he gets chocolate on the corner of his mouth. “You’re so messy.”

“So were you, I remember.” His husky tone makes your mouth drop open, desire clutching you tightly, especially when he licks it off, you can’t help but remember the taste of him, the feeling of his body against yours, the way that tongue just fucking did things.

You clear your throat, trying to shake the thoughts away. “Not gentlemanly, now is it?”

“It’s not, I’m sowwy.” He gives you puppy dog eyes, and you can’t take how cute he is then. You laugh softly, wiping a smudge of chocolate from his face with your thumb. “What’s so funny?” He asks, licking his lips.

“You are.” You reply, unable to stop smiling.

“Am I?” You nod, he’s so close then, his hand on your thigh under the table cloth, you have insane thoughts, what would it be like for him to play with you, right here?

“Shit.”

“Shit what?”

“Nothing.” You sigh, running fingers through your locks now.

“Open up.” Why does everything sound so attractive!? You do as he commands, opening your mouth for him to fork a piece of the chocolate cake, you chew thoughtfully as he watches you with avid attention. 

“Food on my face?”

“N-no. Just so pretty.” He’s blushing now, it takes everything not to completely melt, but you’re still a little scared, a little hurt.

When he’s driving you back and you’re in the car, it also takes everything not to jump him then and there, not to let everything overwhelm you. His hand rests on your knee, smiling over at you when you pull up, the tension is still there, the words so unspoken, you want to say more, do more, but you know you shouldn’t yet.

“Would you like to go to our concert this weekend? I would really love it if you came… I may have a surprise I’m working on.”

“I’d love to, Cho. I miss seeing you guys.”

“Megumi and Yuuji really miss you too.” The guilt eats at you, Choso notices, frowning, dark brows drawn together. “I don’t say that to make you feel bad, they understand somewhat.”

“We fucked up so bad.” You blink rapidly, suddenly the car is too small, your hand going to the handle. “I should say good night.”

“Let me.” Choso is opening your door then, taking your hand in his, and you feel it, those butterflies swirling in your tummy, the desire for him in every way possible, as you give him a little tremulous smile. “Can I walk you to your door?”

“You can indeed, Sir.” You’re smiling so big you can’t stand it, you both are on your porch now, your hand still in his, which he brings to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. “You’re like an Emo Disney Prince, Cho.”

“A what!?” You’re giggling again and he snorts in laughter, covering his face. He laughs so hard, and soon you’re just both laughing, looking at each other. He cups your face then, making your pulse race, your laughter easing now, as you stare at him. “You look so beautiful like this.”

“Snorting in laughter?” You ask with a quirk to your lips, he nods then, brushing his thumb on the apple of your cheek.

“Much better than tears.” There is so much between you both, a part of you wants to run inside and hide, another part wants to drag him in and kiss every part of him, but your hand goes to his chest, feeling his heart racing just like yours, just feeling him, being with him.

“I love seeing you smile. I can’t believe we ruined it.” Your whisper breaks him, he shakes his head then, leaning even lower.

“We didn’t ruin anything, maybe we… changed things?”

“You think? Can you… forgive me too?”

“Oh angel, there’s nothing to forgive. We both made a mess of this and hurt each other, but I never once was mad at you.” You step even closer now, swallowing nervously, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck now, one of his arms wraps your waist. 

 “Thank you for a beautiful evening, Choso Kamo.” You murmur, a little smile on your lips.

“Thank you for being you.” He whispers, the warmth of his palm seeping through your dress, making you gasp at it, just the brush of his fingers down your back ends you damn near. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling his breath against your skin, waiting for it, waiting for his kiss.

But he just watches you, with your lips pursed, and your eyes shut, his heart fucking stopped now. He knew it, that he loved you, he had suspected it for so long, but then and there he knew he was madly in love with you. Part of him wants to give you a sweet kiss, the other wants to fuck you so good you forget Gojo ever touched you, warring parts in his mind.

His thumb tilts your chin up, and he pauses. “May I kiss you?”

Your eyes open in surprise. “You may.”

As his lips brush against yours, it’s at first sweet and lingering, but then it is like a spark ignites a flame, a passionate desperate kiss that you both crave forms, tongues dancing together, tasting the sweetness of the desert on both of your lips, the tart of the wine, and tasting each other.

Your hands are in his hair, his arms around your waist as he bends over you, you’re both lost in it, lost in each other. His thumbs trace little circles on the small of your back, making you arch into him, his kisses becoming more insistent, more needy. You feel it, the desire coiling in your tummy as he presses you even closer against his hard body, as one of his hands entangles in your hair.

You break apart for a moment, both of you panting, staring at each other, his eyes are full of desire, his pupils blown wide, and you see in his own eyes your face, lips parted, your own eyes lidded with desire. You both ease back, he rests his forehead on yours, desire coursing through his veins.

“It’s taking everything in me not to go inside, to have your taste all over me.” His words end you almost, you’re panting softly, nodding then.

“I know, I want it too.” He kisses you again, softer and easier, taking a deep breath and stepping back, leaving just a couple of inches between you now.

“I want to do things right this time. I want you to feel you’re put first. Please, don’t cry, angel.” You can’t help it, it’s everything you’ve wanted and needed to hear from him, tears streaming silently.

“They’re happy tears this time.” You manage to whisper, he exhales then, brushing them gently, kissing your cheeks.

“I hope soon I can ask you to be my girlfriend.” Your heart stutters then, he tenses as if he’s said something wrong. “Not yet I mean… if…”

“N-no, I’d like it soon. I agree we shouldn’t go further tonight though.” He nods quickly, kissing you once more and standing straight, clearing his throat, he’s rubbing the back of his neck all awkward and cute, the Choso you’ve known forever. “You’re still you, hmm?”

His lips turn up a bit. “I’m still me. You’re still you.”

“I am still me. Text me the details of the concert? I’ll be there.” He beams brightly at that.

“Yeah!?”

“Yeah. Good night, Choso. Thank you.”

“Good night.” After he’s watched you go inside, Choso is covering his face, breath coming so quick, he’s kissed you, and not just as some prelude to sex, no he kissed you after a date.

Everything in him is melting, things aren’t completely lost like he thought, it’s like this beautiful rainbow has entered his world again, illuminating the darkness that losing you had left behind. He’s not even sure he deserves your forgiveness, but he knows he will make sure he earns it properly. He stares at your shut door for some time before he leaves, the longing making him ache.

You’re covering your face, a huge fucking smile on it, as your back is against the door, then you have a hand on your heart, feeling it beat again, for the first time in weeks. You take off your heels, unzipping your dress then, heading to the bathroom to start taking off your makeup, mind whirling. Choso wasn’t lost, and maybe you weren’t lost either.

You try not to get your hopes too high, to not be too quick to think everything will be fine, you both hurt each other deeply, and you have a lot to go, but tonight made the dark bright again, made you realize Choso was your brightness. When you’re in bed, snuggled under the blankets, your phone buzzes and you look quickly to see it, a text from Choso.

Cho Bear: I hope you have a good night, but I have to admit… I’d die to have you in my arms.

His text hits hard, it hits brutal, it was only one night he’d held you like that, but you can’t get it out of your head, how it felt perfect. Like you were supposed to be there, safe and protected, cherished. Even now to think of him holding you brings emotions forwards, the longing in his words matching yours.

You: That would be lovely, I enjoyed that night.

Cho Bear: I enjoyed it too much, especially watching you sleep.

You: Creepy sleep stalker!

Cho Bear: A little bit.

You’re giggling again, eyes heavy now, and he sends the details of the concert coming up while you yawn.

You: I can’t wait, good night Cho.

Cho Bear: Good night, pretty.

You also see a text from Utahime, asking for details, you’re half asleep with one eye open as you text her back that it was so fun. She had encouraged you to go and give it a try, and you’re so happy you did. She gives you a million heart emojis then, making you smile sleepily.

To be in Choso’s arms, you don’t know if you’ll get there any time soon, but in your dreams, there you are.

*****

“She came!” Yuuji exclaims that weekend, you and Choso were back to him bringing you that coffee at work, in fact it came along with a little peck on your cheek every morning. It would make you think of him all day, it would put this goofy smile on your face, but aside from that, you haven’t seen him.

The concert is at a very popular club in the city, and it’s packed, there is Choso’s band and a couple others there, when you walk in and you see them. Yuuji waves excitedly, Megumi gives a little nod, and Choso brightens up, calling your name and waving you up to the stage then.

“You came!” He picks you up in his arms then, a giant bear hug that makes you feel so small as he lifts you up, you hug him around the neck as your feet dangle off the ground, smiling against his cheek.

“Of course I did, I couldn't miss it.” He eases you down as some onlookers come, one including Amber, who makes Choso tense as she strides up.

“Choso, I haven’t talked to you! In forever…”

“Is that your girl?” Another girl asks, Amber laughs then.

“They’re friends.”

You gulp now, panicking as several people come around curiously, and you want to fall into a fucking hole, terrified of what his answer will be, you’re not together yet, so whatever he says…

“No, she’s my girl.” You blink up at him, gasping, he eases you down and wraps an arm around your waist as the whispers start.

“Your girl?” Amber asks, arms crossed with a scowl.

“She’s pretty!” Someone else says, making you flush, snuggling up to Choso, leaning up to whisper in his ear.

“You don’t have to do this.”

He looks at you then, shaking his head. “I want to.” He murmurs, pressing a little kiss on your lips in front of everyone, Megumi and Yuuji are grinning as the girls are babbling, and people from the crowd ooh and ahh. But Amber?

“Really? Her?” Choso tenses then, glaring over at her.

“Yeah, her, what’s that mean?”

“Cho, it’s okay…”

Amber stomps up to him then, leaning close. “You forgot the last time we hung out?”

“I’d love to forget. You can go on if you mean to insult her, because damned if she’s not perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Why don’t you go on?” Megumi says then, eyeing a bouncer. “Or we could have you escorted?”

“Whatever.” She grumbles, dragging her friends out with her, and suddenly you can breathe just a bit, looking up at him.

“You didn’t have to say all that, it’s okay really.”

“It’s not okay for her to talk that way. She’s nothing.” He cups your face, forgetting the audience right along with you, until Yuuji clears his throat, and you smile at them, tummy doing fucking flips at how good you feel.

“Thanks Megumi.” You say softly, he shrugs.

“She’s a bitch.” You snort a bit, covering your mouth, looking up at Choso again, who has a more serious expression.

“Is it fine I called you my girl?” He asks, you feel it, his nerves then, you nod with the biggest smile, and he exhales. “Okay, good, because I want it to be true.”

“Maybe it will be, let’s see this surprise.” You tease, pecking a kiss on his lips softly again. “I can’t wait.”

As you’re sipping on a drink you watch them start their set, you’re right up front and center, watching Choso’s finger strum the guitar like they’re made to do it, he leans close to the mic and starts singing. His voice resonates through the entire room, earning everyone’s avid attention, including of course, yours.

You watch him intently, as he performs songs you’ve known forever, you’re cheering and dancing and he keeps smiling at you, keeps looking at you. You feel so special then, more than you can ever remember feeling, the fear dissipating with every honeyed flick of his fingers on the guitar, at moments you shut your eyes and just let it wash through you.

You head to get another drink as they prep for the next song, when suddenly there’s a hushed quiet when Choso speaks, making you turn back around and stare at him.

“This song was written in a rush, these two had to learn it so fast, they probably wanna kick my ass.” He says, the crowd laughs a bit, you’re headed back through them with your drink, smiling up at Choso curiously. “But it’s dedicated to someone special, someone I’ve known forever, but who has become very special to me.”

He says your name then.

You can hardly remember your name before he spoke it, before he looked at you like that, and he’s pointing at you, earning the crowd parting just a bit for you. You feel the heat of everyone’s gaze, hear their murmurs, but you’re too entranced and in shock to really see anything but violet eyes across from you on the stage.

“I hope you… I know you’ll get it.” He says then, hoping the lights on the stage didn’t make his blush show too much, then he begins playing, as do Megumi and Yuuji, a melodic tune that sounds nothing like you’ve heard from them.

A/N: *disclaimer I am no songwriter, be easy on me lol*

When the world fades to gray and all I can see is you,

When the nights blend to days and all I feel is you.

The smile on your face it dances across all my dreams,

Feelings so raw it’s like I’m bursting at the seams.

The melody is soft, it’s not their usual rock music, it’s a ballad so beautiful it brings tears to your eyes, hearing the hoarseness of Choso’s voice as he pours his heart into every word. You sniffle and take a shaky sip, trembling as everyone watches you both in wonder, but it is just you two, isn’t it? Hasn’t it always been?

I’d die to have you in my arms every night,

Oh what I’d do to hold you so tight.

To press kisses along your lips,

To touch you with fingertips.

You’re heating up now, breathless as you continue to watch, utterly enamored, it’s as if you feel these words like a physical touch, overheating your body. You break apart that last barrier of fear, piece by piece, because you can’t just make this up, you can feel it, all of him, in all his sincerity.

In a crowded room all I see is you,

Praying at night for all my dreams to come true.

A girl with a smile that can brighten my heart,

A girl with eyes that tear me apart.

Your eyes are a mess, you’re absolutely sure that there is makeup running down your face, as he melody continues, as he starts pouring his heart to you, as he makes you smile, as he makes you melt. You’re trembling so hard your knees nearly knock, aching to be held by him, for him to never let go. You know you have to take things slow, but at this moment it feels impossible.

Feelings I’ve always known,

Feelings I’ve never shown.

She’s the girl that you write songs for,

She’s the girl that I’ve longed for.

By my side through it all,

Never knew we could fall.

The realization that I have come to,

That there’s nobody but you

At that moment you’re a mess, he ends the song but before he can finish you’ve jumped on the stage, he swings his guitar behind him, and you kiss him, pulling him down to you as everyone claps for him. It’s thunderous, but you don’t hear shit, just your pulse racing, just Choso’s heart thudding, he pulls back with tears in his eyes, breaths coming so quick.

“Choso, I hear you. I feel you.” You whisper, brokenly then, and he kisses you deeply, arms wrapping around you.

“I do mean it, I mean it all angel.” You nod, swiping at your tears and smiling so brightly, he leans close, cupping your face, smiling.

“Finish the set.” You whisper, giggling then as you hop off the stage, everyone is enamored as Choso clears his throat, and they start their usual fare. You head to the bathroom, slamming into Amber then, who scoffs at you.

“You, hmm?” She demands, earning your glare.

“What’s your problem with me? It’s not like you and Choso dated.”

“No? Well he sure had his cock in my mouth.”

You tense now. “And? We weren’t together.”

“Don’t you think…” She leans close. “That if he really wanted you, he’d have been with you this entire time?”

“I…” Your mind whirls with doubt, she smiles all nasty at you.

“No worries, I got Gojo’s number, maybe I’ll take your other guy?”

“Psh, like I care about Gojo. Please do, maybe he’ll quit sending me his dick pics.” You say, smirking at her then, she is furious at you.

“He said you’re just friends, you know.”

“Yeah well, I don’t care what he said. It doesn’t matter. We’re not ‘just friends’ any longer, so I expect you to back the fuck off hmm?” You step right to her, damn near nose to nose, and she backs up just a step.

“We’ll see about all that.” She walks off now, leaving you shaky as you peer into the mirror, you feel sick at thinking of them together, once you pull yourself together somewhat you step out, seeing her all clinging to his arm.

Choso shrugs her off though, glaring, and when he sees you he starts walking your way, filling you with so much relief, it’s like you can breathe again. “Was she a bitch to you?”

“Yeah, she’s really salty.” Choso snorts then, kissing you gently for everyone to see. “I hate that you were with her.”

“I hate you were with him.” He murmurs, leaning close to your ear. “How slow are we taking this?”

“Mmm…” You trail your hands down his strong arms. “We said slow…”

“I could eat you out really slow?” Your eyes shoot up to his, god you haven’t been touched that way in so long, and by him especially, you feel his words shoot between your thighs. “I want to feel you cum so badly, watch your pretty face, your last time cumming was…”

“Thinking of you.” You cut him off, surprising him then. “It was playing with myself, thinking of you.”

“Fuck…” Choso kisses you deeper, pressing you against the wall right by the bathroom, his hands on your waist, pressing in. “I’ll take it slow, whatever it is you want to do, I will.”

“You wanna lick me slow huh?” You’re giggling at the thought. “Lick me where, Choso?”

“You know where, you’re so bratty right now.” You can’t stop your giggles, making him desire you even more. “Don’t I owe you a couple orgasms?”

“Maybe you do. Two I think.”

“So I’ll give you two, and we won’t go further… yet.”

“Where?” He exhales now.

“I want you home… I mean… my home.”

“Staying the night is a lot really quick, this is like our second date?” You tease, he smiles shyly then.

“We can just cuddle, we can do anything. Please just come home… over to my home…”

“You’ve said that twice.” He is a blushing mess, it melts you. “I’ll come over for a night cap then.”

“Yeah!?”

You laugh, nodding. Soon you’re pulling into Choso’s home, and it’s a little nerve wracking. Then you remember the last time you were in his bed, you don’t know how you hold back. Choso’s bending down, slipping off your heels, pecking kisses up your thighs then, earning your gasp as you’re dripping wet in your panties.

“Wanna get more comfy?” He asks softly, you nod shyly then, and soon you’re only wearing one of his soft band tees, coming out to see Choso has made you a drink, he hands it to you as you walk in the kitchen, leaning on the counter then. “You’re so beautiful.” He says, brushing your hair back.

“You’re beautiful, Cho bear.” He shakes his head with a little eye roll.

“You always sucked at taking compliments.”

“I know, ugh.” You sip on the drink in the quiet kitchen then, he bends over you, arms on either side of the counter.

“Do you know how badly I wanna fuck any memory out of your head of him?” His words hit you violently, your pussy throbs around nothing. “I won’t yet, but if you think I don’t you’re insane.”

“I… you…”

“I’ll settle for licking the memories out of your pretty head.” You can’t stop the whine from the back of your throat then, only urging him on, he’s got you lifted on his counter then, shocking you. “Let me take care of you, angel, yeah? Just like that first night, when I first tasted you.”

“Please.” Is all you manage, and Choso’s slipping up your shirt, moaning when he finds you bare, sinking to his knees then, he’s so tall it puts him right at face height with your pussy, which his breath alone makes you jerk. “Cho…”

“So fucking perfect.” He swipes a tongue up your slit, your hands enwrap in his dark silky locks, as he shoves your thighs apart, tongue ring hitting your clit. “Mmm… so yummy, fuck.” He huffs now, black blunt nails pressing into the plush of your thighs as he slips his tongue up again.

“Cho!” You whimper, already pathetic, he watches the arousal pool from your little hole, making him throb, cock so hard he can’t take it. He starts drinking you up, the slurping sounds in the kitchen erotic, as his barbell keeps flicking over and over. “Oh my god…”

You’re already close, it’s so quick but he knows you, he knows your pussy, where you like it, what pressure, and when he’s sucking your clit in his mouth, humming on it and watching you, you fall apart. You can’t hold back at all, cumming so much it’s a mess, all over his face, which he eagerly drinks while you’re yanking his hair so hard it hurts, but it makes him harder.

“Good girl, that’s it.” Choso murmurs when he pulls back, you’re blinking vision back, blinded then, taking several breaths as he leans up, slipping a finger in your slick walls, which clench him. “So tight, fuck… soaking me, huh angel?”

“Mnh…” You can’t manage a word, hearing your greedy pussy sucking his fingers so deep. He’s curling it up, leaning to you, lips brushing yours, you lick yourself right off him, hands shaking as you clutch his shirt. “M-missed it… f-fuck…”

“I missed you, missed feeling you.” Choso’s words, his finger curling sends you back over that edge, your eyes roll back, head falling, he kisses down your throat then, slipping another finger. “Feel that stretch, huh baby?”

“Ngh!” You nod, gasping when he’s back down, using his fingers and his mouth at the same time, bringing you higher and higher, all while violet, dilated eyes watch your every expression. Choso’s pulsing himself then, as your walls flutter around him, as your slick pools down his wrist, so slippery now, all while he drinks you, watching you fall apart.

You’re shaking violently, thighs closing around his head as the orgasm washes over you, as the coil in your tummy releases, your scream is so loud your voice breaks in the middle. You’re sobbing when he’s done, it’s so fucking good, gasping for breath, he places a kiss on your pussy then, groaning at it, and you desperately yank him to you, kissing him.

He moans, deepening the kiss, and he feels it then, the sticky hot cum from eating you out start pouring in his sweats, he panics at it, pulling back, and looking at your cock drunk face, eyes dilated so much he can barely see the iris. Your cunt is drooling, he leans down to lap it up again, whimpering as his cock pushes out more cum, picturing it in you.

“Cho, lemme take care of-”

“Ah, no… I already…”

He leans up now, blushing furiously, and your eyes dart down, seeing it now, soaking wet spot on his sweats, sticky white pooling through the material. “I didn’t touch you?”

“You didn’t have to.” He smiles nervously, exhaling. “I’m sorry-”

“No! No… it means you really love it.” You whisper, biting your lip as he eases you off the counter. Choso cups your face carefully, words of love threatening to spill, but he doesn’t know if you’re ready yet.

“Loving it is an understatement, watching you cum? Your pretty face? The way your body shakes? I can’t explain it. And your taste, how wet you get… I couldn’t take it, it just… happened.” You giggle now, earning his glare. “Are you laughing at me? That cruel, hmm?”

“No, I’m just… it’s so cute!”

“Cute? Ugh.”

“I’m sorry it is sweet, and cute… and flattering.” You kiss him over and over, uncaring as his sticky lap presses against your tummy. “I can clean you up?’

“Oh god, I won’t make that right now. No, I want it for you, tonight.”

“Like the first night?”

“Mhmm.” He kisses your forehead now, exhaling. “Let me clean up and we can cuddle, if you want?”

“I want.”

Soon you’re back somewhere you never thought you’d be again, Choso Kamo’s strong arms, he’s got one wrapped around you as you lay on his chest, trailing little circles mindlessly against his bare skin, over his tattoos. You know the story behind them all, you went to him with most of them, but you can’t help but find them incredibly sexy.

His other hand brushes up and down your spine, making you shiver and hum just a bit, you lean your chin up, looking at him then, feeling the words threatening to spill, but not just yet. “I’m still scared, Cho bear.”

He frowns at that, sighing. “I know, angel. I know.”

“I want to say more, but…”

“You can wait, we have all the time, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You kiss him and smile, blissed out from his presence, from the pleasure he brings you.

“How about another date?” You nod eagerly, smiling against his neck as you snuggle up to him.

“I’d love that. I’ll pick it?”

“You’ll pick it.”

“I hope Amber will fuck off by the way?”

“You can beat her up?”

“I could.” He moans at that, yanking you closer.

“Hot.” You both giggle. “I didn’t enjoy it with her. Physical and nothing else? It felt so…”

“Empty.”

“Yeah, empty. But fuck I can’t forget the hurt on your face, and I hate it still, that it made you…”

“Cho…”

“I hate him, I’m sorry. It’s like he knew you were upset and thrived off it.” You wince now, shaking your head.

“He just wanted fun, I doubt it.”

“You’re too sweet sometimes. If I see him? I can’t make promises.”

“You’ll kick his ass for my honor huh?” He chuckles.

“For lots of reasons, starting with high school. Even then, I wish…”

“It’s okay, we have now. Let’s not focus on back then.” He wishes he could change it all though, take away your pain, but he’s so thankful, he nods now, kissing your head and continuing his gentle touches. “This feels so perfect. It’s scary how perfect.”

“It is perfect. Good night, angel.” You yawn, smiling and shutting your eyes, snuggling deeper as you fall into a slumber, the tentative happiness making you sleep quickly, though there’s fear in both your hearts, of what could come between you.

“I… love you. I’m in love with you.” Choso whispers, as he hears you lightly snore, making his heart swell in his chest, hoping one day soon he can tell you.

A/N- I know the last chap was HEAVY with the angst, but they had to go through the worst and a seperation, truly to find each other. The story isn't over, and not done yet, but I hope you're enjoying it even if it got dark for a bit here! I look forward to your comments

Taglist: @erencvlt @antisocialinlw @aquamarine001 @maskedpacific @mima0127 @yxnnu @lana18918 @bigbird789  @angellliqua @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @staygoldsquatchling02 @bts-psycho @lillycore @mysticalnightbeliever @wystriz @tokyolhtl @imabyssa @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @ivyvenus333 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @sparklydeerface @10honeybee01 @marie-is-in-the-dark @lavender-hvze @angelcakkess @bellasworlds-stuff @pauliiis-stuff @mysouleaten @city-of-lovers @teddiiursula @flowerbbybananamilk @anna-reader-blog @loveisnanami @nymphsdomain @mollyrocks420 @ilovemrsilver @kitzuuuu @skzynct

perma tags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @cuntphoric

(rest tagged in comments!)

[oneforthemunny]

has anybody sent in something for our loverboy hockey!eddie yet 🥹 if not here you gooooo

jealousy, ex!boyfriend, angst to fluff please 🥹

for my loveeerrrrrrr <3!!! ofc had to make the ex a lover, sunshine boy too so it's sunshine vs sunshine bc i'm feeling evil lol.

"You know, I've fuckin' missed this so much." Eddie grinned at you from across the booth, leg shaking with excitement, fingers drumming on the table, over the laminated menu of the diner.

"Yeah?" You giggled. "You missed Benny's or you missed me?"

"Both." Eddie grinned back, toothy and wide in a way that made your heart swoon. "Missed you the most, sweetheart, you know tha-"

A man stopped in front of your table, his name leaving your lips before you could recognize him- Ryan.

"Hey," You blinked, a squeak in your voice that had Eddie's attention snapping to you. "Ryan- uh, how have you been?"

"Good, ya know? Busy at school. I'm trying for the Principal job at Rogers Clark Elementary."

"Oh? You got your degree? I didn't know you went back to school."

Eddie burned at how your attention was on this guy, whoever the fuck he was. A frown pulling at his brows, knitting them together nearly petulantly.

"Yeah, I decided to go back. I love being a teacher, ya know, but longterm... Just needed to make more money." Ryan nodded, just as bubbly and nice as you remembered. You certainly had a type.

His eyes flashed over to Eddie. "Oh, uh, Ryan this is my boyfriend, Eddie." You swallowed the awkwardness.

"Oh, shit. I know you." Ryan grinned, reaching his hand out to shake Eddie's. "You play for the Reapers, right?"

"Yeah, I do." Eddie nodded, his voice a little tighter than usual, so was his grip on Ryan's hand when he shook it.

"I caught the end of the game last week, it was unreal. What a way to end the season." Ryan nodded.

"Thanks, yeah, it was. It was a good season." Eddie smiled lightly, looking over at you. "Glad to be home now."

Ryan looked from Eddie to you, nodding awkwardly. "Sorry, I'll let you two get back to it. Just wanted to say hi."

"Good to see you, Ryan. Good luck!" You waved to him as he walked off, turning back to Eddie, greeted by a rather sulky pout.

"What?" Your lips curled gently.

"Was that Ryan-Ryan?" Eddie frowned. "The ex?"

"Yeah, the ex." You nodded awkwardly, flipping the menu over. "Are you getting chocolate chip waffles? Or an omelette?"

Eddie didn't reply, face still long in a pout, arms crossing over his chest. "What?" You looked at him, a soft, lifted brow in question. "What's wrong?"

Eddie looked at you, then back over his shoulder. "Why were you all happy to see Ryan?" He said his name with disgust.

"Happy? I don't think I was happy." You rolled your eyes lightly. "I was being polite."

"Yeah, well, he was too polite to you." Eddie grumbled, sulking over the table. "Weird guy."

"Eddie," You laughed lightly, setting down you menu. "Seriously?"

Eddie didn't let up, his frown furrowing more, lip jutting farther. You giggled at his petulant look, sliding out from your side of the booth, and into his side, your body pressed up against his.

"You don't have to worry about Ryan or anyone, baby, you know you don't." You muttered, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him close to you. Your lips ducked under Eddie's waterfall of curls, peppering kisses to his cheek until you felt them tug, curling in a soft grin he tried to hide.

[esotericbluntbaby]

bf! hamzah x reader headcannons (sfw!)

- i feel like his love language is acts of service. if you guys don't live together already, he definitely acts like you do. need to go run errands? he'll drive you. hungry? he'll cook you something. in fact, he has all the cabinets memorized so he really never has to ask you where anything is. he knows what you like and don't like, and obviously if you have any allergies, so everything he prepares is to your liking. stressed? he'll run you a hot bath, complete with candles and a laptop sitting on a table for you to watch movies. he would even sit down on the floor next to you to keep you company, just in case you wanted to talk. how sweet!

- though he's a busy man with his podcast and youtube channel, you rarely feel like you come second to his career the more the relationship progresses. although you probably reassure him that it's okay if he stays a little late to finish editing or filming, he makes it up to you by bringing you some food or flowers. he genuinely feels bad when he has to be kept away from his girlfriend, so he tries to make up for it afterwards by showing you that he thinks of you even when you're apart.

- he would definitely play games with you when he can. i feel like you'd get a random text from him while he's filming that says something along the lines of him playing a game with martin that he wants to play with you. if it's a horror game, he'd definitely have you sit on his lap. with each jumpscare, he holds you tighter as you both jump or possibly scream. you secretly know that it's just an excuse for him to hold you, but of course, you don't mind.

- whenever he watches you holding or petting red and blue, his heart melts a little. he enjoys when you take care of his cats since they're literally his children. there are times you'll sleep over and wake up to the sight of hamzah, red, and blue all cuddled up next to you.

- speaking of cuddle, hamzah seems like the type to have such a heavy grip on you when you're asleep together. i can imagine you trying to go to work or school and attempting to get up from out of bed but he simply doesn't let you. the grip he has on your waist is tight as SHIT like he's acting like he'd die if he let go. eventually you squeeze out of his arms and get ready, but he soon wakes up and asks you why you left him there.

- you are passenger princess. always. he HATES it when you drive because he doesn't see the point. he's always available to take you places and enjoys being your own personal chauffeur. he understands that you can do things on your own, but he wants you to understand that you don't have to since he's in your life.

- i feel like he's heavy on communication and comprehension. in the beginning of the relationship, he was probably scared to tell you when he got jealous or when you do something that bothers him, but over time he realized he has to talk or else nothing would change. if something's bothering him, he won't hesitate to talk to you about it in a respectful and meaningful way. he isn't accusatory, but talks to you with softness in his voice. you guys are a team. afterwards, he just basks in your existence and spends time with you to reassure you that you guys are alright.

- when you guys are out together, he acts like he hates when you baby him. he tries his best to seem as masculine and strong as possible when you two are in public. in private? the complete opposite. he prefers being little spoon and resting his head on your chest while you stroke his hair. he loves when you kiss him on the forehead and when you call him cute pet names. he looks at you with so much adoration when you treat him like he's your baby.

- when you're upset, he definitely tries to cheer you up by making you laugh. whether it's cracking joke after joke or pretending to fall or finding a funny game to play with you, he will not stop until he sees you smile. he hates seeing a frown on your face and will genuinely do anything to take any sort of discomfort or pain away from you.

--

authors note

i decided to write at 1:24 on a school night because i NEEDED more hamzah fics. ts is kinda ass tho but we thug! take care of urselves lovelies mwah i will write more soon!

[marauder-misprint]

hiii I was wondering if I could get a sirius black x reader where reader is slytherin except she's a relatively decent person and just kinda ignores everyone and keeps to herself and like a singular friend (who could be a guy maybe for the sake of jealousy induced tension even though it isn't romantic between her and the friend) but like sirius is still a flirt except he's into reader and just crazy in denial about it because he's trying to distance himself from everything even remotely reminiscent of his family including house slytherin + him and the marauders all just kinda assume her and her friend are bad people because of their house- and reader maybe has always admired sirius because he's funny and brave and hot and just a goof and it's just this bundle of misunderstanding and angsty teens and 'reluctant' pining and inner turmoil and then they finally get together or at least on the same page at the end (whether that be due to the aforementioned jealousy induced tension or not)

oh goodness, I got carried away with this one. Regrets? None. Thank you so much for this request ❤︎

Tutoring

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

5k words

cw: fluff, Y/N, some angst

Days like today made you glad that your best friend, Lucas, was your partner in Herbology. Professor Sprout had given you a work day to tend to your plants. Lucas’ green thumb ensured that you weren’t doing any of the work beyond writing down the occasional note that he dictated to you as he pruned the various plants in front of you. He hadn’t said anything in a while and you were absentmindedly stroking your quill. The heat of the greenhouse half-lulled you into a daydream as you stared into the distance. As much as you’ve liked to say you weren’t looking at anything, or anyone, in particular, it would’ve been a lie. Sirius was being less helpful than you were on the other side of the greenhouse. He was flirting with some Ravenclaw girl while Remus took care of their plants by himself. Every so often, especially when the girl let out a shrill giggle, Remus sent the two of them a harsh look. 

“Staring at him’s not gonna get you anywhere,” Lucas said, clapping his gloves together to get some of the extra dirt off of them before removing them. 

“I don’t need to get anywhere,” you replied halfheartedly. “He’s just… pretty.”

Lucas sighed. “You’ve told me. But don’t forget how he’s funny and captivating and cool and brave and silly and a goofball and loyal and, oh, the list goes on!” he teased you, his voice having switched into a falsetto the moment he started listing off all the characteristics you had mentioned to him at one point or another.

“Shut up,” you said with no bite to your words. “How’re the plants? Growing as expected?”

“Better than expected. As long as you can handle some of the written part, we are getting O’s for sure.”

You smiled as you threw your arms around him. “This is why we’re best friends!”

“Because I don’t let you kill our plants?”

“Well, it’s certainly not for your potion making skills.”

Lucas laughed. You had figured out years ago that Lucas was superior in Herbology and you in Potions and then proceeded to make a pact to carry the other in their lesser subject. Lucas, however, had the good sense to not carry on with N.E.W.T. level Potions while you were stuck in N.E.W.T. level Herbology because it was required for your desired profession. 

You slid some parchment toward Lucas to look over and give his approval too. Once he did, you got up to hand it to Professor Sprout. By the time you got back to your station, Lucas had packed up both of your things and you were free to leave class early. Lucas casually threw an arm over your shoulder as you exited the greenhouse together.

From across the greenhouse, Sirius watched you and Lucas leave. He kept his eyes on you until the door closed behind you, and even then, he continued to stare at where you had been. The Ravenclaw in front of him realized that she lost his attention and turned back to her partner looking a bit deflated. Once Sirius came back to the present and noticed the Ravenclaw wasn’t batting her eyelashes at him anymore, he turned back to Remus to see if he could help.

Remus waited until the Ravenclaws next to them left before asking Sirius about what had happened.

“Earlier, something distracted you. What was it?” 

“Huh?” Sirius replied, looking up from the leaf that Remus had just removed from the plant closest to him.

“You were flirting with Marie and then you trailed off and ignored her for like a solid minute. What caught your eye?”

“Oh… Nothing. Just saw someone leaving and wondered why we were still working.”

Remus narrowed his eyes at Sirius; he was sure the darker haired boy was lying to him.

“Maybe we’d be done if you actually helped me instead of recounting your latest duel to every girl who looks at you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Of all the girls who had managed to catch Sirius’ eye, you were the one he didn’t talk about with the boys. Part of it was because he didn’t know much about you, but he did know two things: you had a boyfriend and you were a Slytherin. Both of those told him to stay away from you. Boyfriends, especially ones as clingy as yours appeared to be, didn’t like when he flirted with their girls. And you were a damned Slytherin. The house’s reputation was enough to make him wary, but he avoided anything that could connect him with his family and he was the first Black to not be sorted into Slytherin. So he decided that you were just a pretty girl and that’s all you were. 

---

The weekend brought warm weather, sending students out to the school’s grounds. You and Lucas picked a shady spot a little ways from the Black Lake. Unfortunately, some of the boys from your year decided that you had picked a great spot and came over to talk to Lucas. He was friendly with them. You tolerated them during times like these; you didn’t really have any other friends to spend time with.

The boys made cruel jokes and discussed some of the curses they had read about in books from the restricted section. You didn’t care for the conversation. You leaned deeper into Lucas’ side. His hand found yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He knew you’d rather they not be there.

The Marauders were sprawled out closer to the lake. Other Gryffindors relaxed within a stone’s throw of them. They were a magnet for the other students in their house and then some. 

Every once in a while, one of the Slytherins’ voices would carry and everyone would hear the horrid things they were talking about. This confirmed what Sirius thought of the house, and consequently, you. You were over there after all, listening and not saying anything. From the distance, Sirius couldn’t see you giving pleading looks to Lucas, silently asking him if you could move and go somewhere else. And even if he could see that, it would only confirm his belief that you were dating the boy. 

Mulciber and Wilkes started discussing which curses they’d like to use on the muggleborns. Their descriptions got increasingly graphic and you had enough. Using Lucas’s shoulder to steady yourself, you stood up and began to walk away toward the castle. You rather waste the beautiful day alone and inside instead listening to that filth.

“Y/N! Don’t go, the conversation is just getting interesting!” Avery shouted at you. When you didn’t acknowledge him, he continued, “Why, you little bi-”

You turned around in a flash, wand out.

“Stupify!” 

You weren’t dumb. You knew he was reaching for his wand and you’d be damned if you didn’t protect yourself. You shot a warning glance around the group, lingering longer on Lucas where he still sat against the tree. You sighed and continued on your way. You knew you had more eyes on you than you preferred; casting a spell in the middle of the grounds drew attention, especially when the spell was aimed at the likes of Avery. 

Sirius was one of those who watched the whole thing go down. He hadn’t heard what the final straw was for you but you had his entire attention from the moment you stood up. He was rather impressed with how far Avery had flown backwards. 

After you doubled your distance from the group of Slytherins, Lucas got up and jogged to catch up to you. He didn’t throw arm around you like he usually did, instead opting to shove his hands into his pockets and keep his head down. 

Once again, Sirius couldn’t take his eyes off of you until you disappeared out of his sight. The whole area had gone silent and Sirius wasn’t the only one watching you go. Others were watching the Slytherins compose themselves. 

“One helluva stupify,” James mumbled as the conversations around them resumed. 

“Also not something you see every day,” Remus added. “Slytherin against Slytherin.”

Sirius just stared in the direction you had walked. You were just a pretty girl. A pretty girl who didn’t hesitate to stun your peer. And James was right, it was an impressive Stupify. 

---

“I’ve yet to meet a nice Slytherin,” Peter complained from the boys’ potion station in the back of the classroom. “Lily and Marlene say they aren’t all that bad, but there’s no bloody proof.”

“Meadowes is… cool,” James said, choosing his words carefully. 

“Cool! Not nice,” Peter said, pointing an accusing finger at James as if he only furthered Peter’s point. 

“I don’t think anyone is describing Meadowes as nice,” Sirius said. For a reason he didn’t want to name, he felt himself looking in your direction, where you were diligently working alone. ‘No boyfriend in this class,’ he thought.

“Describing any of your cousins as nice, Padfoot?” James asked with a teasing voice. 

Sirius just rolled his eyes. Maybe Andromeda, but he didn’t know her all that well. He was convinced that any relative that might’ve been actually worth meeting never showed up to family gatherings. 

“Vicious. That’s what they are,” Peter said firmly, tracing a finger down the instructions of the potion they were supposed to be concocting. “Meadowes can be described as that.”

“Whatsername too,” Sirius said, still looking at you. “The one who stupified Avery the other week.”

“Doesn’t matter who’s on the receiving end,” Peter sighed. 

At the end of the lesson, Sirius went to give a vial of the group’s potion to Slughorn while the other two cleaned up and returned the extra ingredients to the communal store. 

“Ah, Mister Black, might I have a word?” Professor Slughorn asked as Sirius handed him the vial. 

“Uh, yes, sir. As long as it doesn’t take too long. Transfiguration next.”

The professor nodded. “I’ve asked Miss Y/L/N if she’d be willing to… ah, tutor you.”

Sirius’ face soured. “Tutor me?”

“Your latest exam results are a tad disappointing to say the least, Mister Black. I asked Miss Evans first but she has prefect duties, as you know. And I’d be ignorant to ask Mister Snape. Miss Y/L/N has accepted and I expect you to treat her… kindly. If you wish to pass this class, take these sessions seriously.”

Professor Slughorn handed Sirius a piece of parchment with a series of dates, times and topics on it. It didn’t seem like he had any say in the matter. Sirius groaned but nodded before he turned to gather his things and hurry to Transfiguration. James and Peter hadn’t waited for him.

Sirius was reduced to grumbling to himself by the time he fell into his chair next to James; Remus and Peter sitting at the desk in front of them turned around to look at him.

“What took you so long?” Peter asked.

“Sluggy assigned me a tutor.”

“It’s not Snivellus, is it?” Remus grimaced. 

“Godric, no, thank Merlin,” Sirius groaned. “Still a Slytherin though…”

“What’s Evans up to? Why can’t she?” James asked quickly, glancing toward the redhead a couple seats away. 

“Prefect duties,” Sirius moaned.

“So,” Remus started slowly, “who is it? What Slytherin does Slughorn think you won’t murder?”

“Her,” Sirius said with a jerk of his head. “Y/L/N.”

As usual, you were sitting with Lucas. Your back was to the boys, but Lucas saw all of them turn to look at you.

“Why are those Gryffindors staring at you?” he whispered, as if the Marauders could somehow hear him from halfway across the room. 

“Slughorn is having me help Black with Potions. Said something like if I could manage to get you an acceptable for your O.W.L.s, I should have no problem with Black,” you sighed, giving Lucas a teasing nudge.

“Huh,” was all Lucas said, but his lack of words were replaced with a death glare that he continuously sent towards Sirius, like he requested you personally to tutor him

---

You were waiting for Sirius in the Potions classroom for the first session. He was late, but you expected as much. You readied everything you thought you might need, which was a lot given how little Slughorn told you about where Sirius was struggling. Now, you waited, twirling your wand around in your hand. 

“Sorry, ‘m late.”

You sat up straighter as footsteps approached you. There was a thud of a bag on the floor. Then Sirius slid onto the bench next to you, carefully looking at everything you had laid out. 

“How many potions we brewing today?” he asked as he took it all in.

“Probably just the one… Laughing Potion. It’s what Slughorn had down for today.”

Sirius nodded. He couldn’t recall the last time he had been this close to you, or if he ever had been. Being right next to you reaffirmed his belief that you were pretty. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. Angelic. And you smelled it too. It engulfed his senses for a moment.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t mind you tutoring me?” he blurted out. ‘Smooth, Sirius, smooth.’

You gave him a sideways glance as he immediately bent down to take out his advanced potion making book.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you said, your voice level but confused. 

“What about that boy you’re always around?”

“Lucas?” you asked with an arched brow. You wanted to laugh. “No. He’s just my friend.”

“Sure do spend a lot of time with him.”

“So, potion making!” Slughorn didn’t really specify where you needed help, so-”

“I’ve literally seen you under his arm, holding hands, the works. Certainly seems a bit more than friendly to me.”

“I don’t see how that is of any concern right now, Black. Do you want to fail Potions?” you snapped at him. You weren’t sure why he was so focused on Lucas when he wasn’t even there and you were supposed to be working on Potions.

“No, I don’t want to fail. But I’m not failing right now.”

“You’re on your way to it. Now, tell me what Slughorn has docked points for.”

Reluctantly, Sirius pulled out a singed feedback sheet that Slughorn handed out for any potion receiving an A or less. Sirius had obviously tried to burn it in frustration. 

The rest of the tutoring session went by with no mention of Lucas or boyfriends or any sign of flirting. Just how to properly brew a proper Laughing Potion. Sirius leaves the session believing that you are cold, just like every other Slytherin and all of his family. But he can’t help admiring how smart you are and how easy it was to fix his mistakes when you pointed them out. How you tucked your hair behind your ear when it fell into your face. How your laughter filled the whole room when you tested the finished product. He knew he shouldn’t but he wanted to make you laugh like that without the help of a potion.

On the other hand, you went back to the Slytherin Dungeon feeling dejected. You didn’t mind that Slughorn asked you to tutor Sirius. You were delighted. You’d get to spend time with him, alone, and hopefully catch his attention. But besides asking intently about Lucas at the beginning of the session, he didn’t flirt with you at all. He showed no interest. 

---

After a few more sessions with you, Sirius decided to ask Dorcas about you. He could play it off as simple curiosity about his Potions tutor. Dorcas was probably the only Slytherin he could trust and she was always in Gryffindor Tower with Marlene so he wouldn’t have to seek her out.

“Meadowes!” he called from across the common room. “Can I have a word?

The Slytherin gave her girlfriend a confused look before rising from the couch.

“Black,” she said shortly, leaning against the wall. 

“What can you tell me about Y/N?”

Dorcas’ brows bunched at the question.

“Uh, not much. Keeps to herself. Doesn’t voluntarily talk to anyone besides Lucas. I think he’s her only friend.”

She watched Sirius’ face for any clue as to why he was asking about you. The only thing going through his mind was how you called Lucas just your friend and Dorcas said he was your only friend. Just and only made quite the difference.

“Why?” she asked when Sirius didn’t say anything.

“Oh, Sluggy is having her help me in Potions. Just wondering if she’s that cold to everyone.”

Dorcas laughed. “Everyone but Lucas. Pandora and I have bets about if they’ll ever actually get together. I say they have to by the end of seventh year, but she says otherwise.”

“Huh. Alright. Thanks.”

Sirius went up to his dorm thinking about what Dorcas had said. You didn’t even talk to your roommates? That was certainly something. He kept coming back to Dorcas saying that you had one friend. Only one. As someone with plenty of friends, he didn’t understand it.

At the other end of the castle, you were sitting with Lucas in his dorm. 

“There must be something wrong with me, Lucas. Why else wouldn’t he be flirting with me?” you asked from where you sat on the floor, leaning back against his bed.

Lucas sighed and you felt like you could hear his eyes roll. He was tired of the conversation before it even really began.

“Maybe because he’s a prat? I know you like him, but come on. You should be glad he doesn’t flirt with you. We both know he’d just break your heart and leave like it was nothing. Just like he does with every other girl.”

You turned to look up at Lucas so that he could see the irritated face you made. 

“Okay, tell me how you really feel about him.”

“Just saying, Y/N, you could have better taste in guys.”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know.”

You were glad he didn’t say ‘like me.’ Part of you wondered if he even thought it. If you weren’t good enough for Sirius to flirt with, maybe you weren’t good enough for your best friend to set you with anyone. Not that you actually liked any of his other friends, but the suggestion of one of them would’ve been nice.

--

The next session started off like usual, an air of coldness with you getting straight to the point. Dorcas’ words sit in Sirius’ mind so he can’t focus. First, he stirred the potion clockwise instead of counterclockwise. Then, he added fluxweed leaves instead of fluxweed stems. Finally, he was about to add essence of dittany when you reached out to grab his hand to stop him.

“Okay, are you actively trying to blow up this classroom?”

Sirius stared blankly at where your hand was gripping his wrist. You slowly moved it away from the cauldron before extinguishing the fire below it. 

“Black, what’s on your mind? You’re not usually this… careless.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

He couldn’t very well just say ‘I asked my friend about you and she said you have no friends and you seem okay with that.’

“I don’t think it’s nothing if it almost had you kill us,” you stated before turning your whole body to face him on the bench. “And I don’t fancy dying today so either we talk about it or we end the session here and try again later.”

Sirius waited a beat before saying anything. He didn’t want to leave.

“I know you’re just my tutor, but I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

You tilted your head to the side. The surprise of him saying that is evident on your face. Of all the things to be on his mind, that wasn’t what you were expecting. 

“Oh. Um, okay. We can fix that. What do you want to know?”

“How come I only see you around that boy?” Sirius asked quickly before his eyes went wide with embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to ask you that right away. He knew he should’ve started with your favorite color or how you’re so good at Potions. “Shit, I didn’t mean-”

You laughed brightly. It makes Sirius relax a little. 

“I thought I told you he’s my friend. Just my friend.”

“But…” he takes a breath, “is he your only friend?”

You bit your lip as you thought for a moment. The fact that you had to think about it practically answered the question for you.

“He’s my best friend. Has been since we started here. Guess I never really needed, wanted anyone else.” 

“Not even your roommates? Other girls in our year?” Sirius asked, sounding slightly concerned.

You tried not to laugh again. “Are you worried I’m lonely?” you replied mirthfully. “Trust me, Black. I’m content.”

“Are you against new friends?”

“No, but it’s not like anyone is rushing to befriend me.”

Sirius hummed and looked back at the cauldron. “I think I’m okay to try again.”

This time he brewed it perfectly.

The tutoring sessions began to change from then on out. Sirius would start each one by asking you a question about yourself. He learned your favorite color and favorite food, what your wand core was, a bit about your family, how you were so good at Potions, how you felt about flying on a broom, what pet you would have if you could have any pet, why you continued in Herbology even though you sucked at it and hated it. The loner pretty Slytherin was more than she appeared. 

You were caught off guard when Sirius continued to ask questions after that tutoring session. You couldn’t believe how genuinely curious and intrigued he seemed by you. Since he was doing better with each session, you humored him and told him about yourself. You started to consider him your friend. You would say hi to him in between classes or wave to him from across the Great Hall if you caught his eye. Lucas rolled his eyes at this.

Professor Slughorn was handing back a practical assignment’s grading sheet. You didn’t receive a feedback card, like usual, just the note that said O. Slughorn paused by Sirius and James’ table longer than you expected. Both boys only received the grade sheet. Sirius’ face shone brightly as he sprung up and sprinted to the front of the classroom where you were. He pulled you into a bearhug. 

“I got an E!” he exclaimed.

“You deserve it, Sirius. Celebrate it!” you said with a giggle.

“I’m thinking butterbeers in Hogsmeade? We can go after dinner!”

You nodded, grinning widely. Butterbeers with Sirius? How could you say no?

Only it wasn’t just you and Sirius as you had expected. It was practically all of his Gryffindor friends plus Dorcas. From the moment you stepped foot outside of the castle with the group, you felt out of place. Sirius and James led the group with a boisterous conversation between just them filling the evening air. You somewhat anchored yourself to Dorcas. She was your roommate after all. Dorcas was paying more attention to Marlene and Lily, which you didn’t mind. Behind you, you could hear a more mellow conversation happening between Peter, Remus and Mary. Everyone in the group was chatting amiably except you. 

It didn’t stay that way. After you had all been sat around a large table in the Three Broomsticks, Lily turned to you.

“You’re the one who’s been tutoring him? And he’s listened?” she asked, gobsmacked.

“Yeah. Surprised?” There was that Slytherin coldness.

“A little, actually.” Your face hardened and Lily clocked it immediately. “More impressed. If he doesn’t want to learn something, he usually doesn’t. Figured he’d just drop Potions at the end of term or something.”

“Oh,” you said softly. You looked down the table at Sirius who was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. “He just needed a bit of guidance. You know how Slughorn eased off on his hovering.”

“Maybe he’s stopping hovering you two because you know what you’re doing,” Marlene said.

“You’re not even in Potions anymore, Marls, what are you talking about?” Lily asked with a laugh.

“No, he’s definitely stopped hovering as much. He grades essays while we work,” you said.

“You know who needs to stop hovering so much? Flitwick!” Mary added with a groan. “He’s always right next to you, watching you cast the spell. Like sorry, I get a bit nervous when I have a teacher at my elbow.”

All of the girls laughed and you didn’t feel so out of place. Maybe this was why Sirius was concerned with Lucas being your only friend? The girls were definitely a change of pace. It was nice. You turned to look at Sirius again, only to find him already looking at you with a knowing smile. 

“Let’s not forget the whole reason why we’re here!” Sirius announced, raising his glass. “Y/N, thank you for raising my grade!”

“Here, here!” James called as the rest of the table raised their glasses in a toast to you.

You were blushing furiously. But then the conversations returned and the rest of the night passed far too quickly for your liking. Before you knew it, Madam Rosmerta was kicking the group out so she could close up shop for the night. 

“I think that was the most I’ve heard you voluntarily talk to someone other than Lucas,” Dorcas mused as the group started to walk back to the castle. 

You didn’t know how to respond. Marlene unknowingly came to your rescue as she pulled Dorcas toward the front of the group. This time, you ended up in the back of the group, keeping a slower pace. You loved evening walks, even if they were a bit chilly, so you prolonged this one ever so slightly.

“I hope that wasn’t too much attention for you,” Sirius said, falling into step with you, letting the rest of the group continue on ahead. 

“No, it was fine. It’s fine.” You felt yourself start to blush again. “But you shouldn’t sell yourself short. You’re the one who brewed the potion.

“Yeah, only after you taught me some of your tricks,” he said, giving your shoulder a gentle bump.

---

You continued your tutoring sessions with Sirius even after his grades improved and maintained the preferred level. You both looked forward to the sessions, and Sirius continued to ask you about yourself at the start of each one. You sometimes would ask him to answer the question as well, saying that it was only fair. 

You also found yourself sitting with the Gryffindors every once in a while, but it was always only if Sirius was there. You could sense that Lucas was a little miffed when you chose to sit with them over him during a study hall, but it didn’t bother you. He had friends that you didn’t like. So what if you had friends that he didn’t like? 

Everything was going well. You were happy with your new friendships, although you still hung back while they stole the spotlight and made trouble. 

Then you walked into Potions class and Professor Slughorn had written ‘Amortentia’ on the blackboard. He gave a lengthy lecture on the dangers of the potion before going over how to brew it. Then he released the students to give it a go. Your hands shook the entire time. You didn’t know why you were so nervous about it. Maybe because you knew what you would smell. When your potion is complete, your face burns. 

You called it. You smelled Sirius. His leather jacket, smoke, sandalwood. It’s so undeniably Sirius. Because of your blush, those around you asked what you smell, but don’t say a word. You’re not going to tell anyone.

Sirius, on the other hand, is convinced there’s something wrong with his potion. He’s also a blushing mess, but he can’t accept what he smells. Sure, you were pretty and smart and able to help in potions, and you were powerful and beautiful and funny and had the most wonderful laugh. And you didn’t have a boyfriend and you got along with his friends well enough. But you were in Slytherin. You could be cold. How could he smell you in the most powerful love potion?

After the lesson, you gathered your things and hurried to talk to Sirius before your next lesson. 

“Hey, I can’t do tutoring today. We’ll need to reschedule.”

He gave you a confused look.

“You scheduled something over tutoring?” he asked in disbelief. He tried not to look hurt; at least you were offering to reschedule instead of straight cancelling.

“No, no, not like that. Something just… came up?” You knew your excuse didn’t sound believable. Your voice gave it away.

Sirius grabbed your shoulder and pulled you away from his friends and out of the walk path.

“If we’re rescheduling, I’d like to know why.”

You took a shaky breath. “I… I don’t think I can be around you tonight.”

Sirius blinked slowly. The confusion on his face slowly melted away and was replaced by a mix of curiosity and hope. 

“What did you smell in the potion?”

You shook your head. You couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Y/N, what did you smell?”

He had both hands on your shoulders now. If you didn’t answer him, you were sure that he’d start shaking you.

“You.” 

Your answer was barely audible. It wasn’t even a whisper. But Sirius heard it. He closed his eyes and for a moment, all emotion left his face.

“I smelled you too.”

“Oh.” That came out as a squeak. Great. 

“Yeah… Oh…” He opened his eyes. “I was really hoping we could meet tonight.”

“Well, uh, my schedule just cleared, so, yeah, we can meet up.” 

Without thinking, Sirius placed a chaste kiss on the side of your forehead and turned back to his friends.

As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, “Can’t wait!”