#not sure how I feel about this I guess I’m just too particular about how I need my Moritz to be sung

[9w1ft]

Okay okay set the scene-

champagne problems. 1 for the money (the first wedding)

2 for the show (the second highly broadcasted wedding featuring scooter Braun)

I never was ready (to come out?) so I watched you go (deeper into a bearding contract so that we can hide in plain sight and commit vigilante shit). I do belive that we were on for a public reunion and coming out before the masters heist.

anyways champagne problems making sense today.

oh yes and on a base level when we all first listened through evermore and got to champagne problems i would venture to guess that this was the prevailing thought for sure, but sort of in a dry humor way 🥴

also this!

one thing that i agree with that i sense from your interpretation is that (and this i feel is true about so much of folklore and i back this up with things taylor herself has written) is that it’s a mixture of feelings that arose over multiple moments and events, not a one to one thing that means only one thing. in other words, to me, champagne problems is not “someone got proposed to and got denied and therefore there was no wedding”. to me it’s more like using it as a metaphor for conveying the feelings she had around certain things. also i agree that i do think taylor was gearing up for some sort of coming out at the end of june 2019. but ultimately she changed course. and while i think that champagne problems can depict a certain feeling that she had and deal with things that happened that are wedding themed, in the sense of taking the temperature on the status of that relationship i always return to a song that feels chronologically newer, the lakes, and the line “i’m setting off, but not without my muse, no not without you.” when thinking about the overall arc of taylor’s moves post-june 2019. in retrospect, i also find the line “she’ll patch up your tapestry that i shred” to be similar to the motif of the banner found in other songs, “tore our banners down” and “years of tearing down our banners” — to me, champagne problems is representative of another time that taylor tore the banners down on something. that could be 2019, it could be earlier, like post-election 2016 maybe, but moreover, it’s one of a series of moments over time, not an end.

i thought i’d mention that the second wedding thing was positioned more like an extended reception for their business circles (scooter was her manager at the time). some family and friends came too but it had a distinct work friends vibe. a big dinner and activities. the first one was positioned more like a ceremony and intimate event with a smaller circle of friends and family. which i might add isn’t that weird conceptually (to have a smaller ceremony and then a bigger party later) or at least that’s how i went about doing my wedding years ago so 😆 like it was definitely sus (and silly!) of them to do two events, silly in an absurdist, god can’t we catch a break sort of way, but also not unheard of conceptually imo.

also if you could allow me a long tangent regarding one other tiny point that came to mind when reading your ask (and i’m sorry for getting particular about semantics and i’m mostly writing this because i’ve gotten a lot of newer followers lately so it’s not directed at you in particular nor am i sure you meant it that way but it did make me think something so here i go) it’s just that i think that it can be beneficial to us as observers of kaylor to consider a contract to be something that is signed and negotiated by two or more parties, and therefore, usually, it is a document that is considered balanced for all parties which is evidenced by approval through their signatures. that is to say, i think oftentimes we talk about adding marriage to bearding as going deeper into the closet and maybe we see the words ‘bearding contract’ and we talk about it like its a somewhat nefarious thing but, in spirit, a bearding contract is a document to facilitate the terms of something complicated and nuanced and important that shouldn’t be done on the fly. sometimes i feel like people think as if karlie and/or taylor were strong armed into some raw deal and that they are being bound and held captive to their true feelings, but i think that is a tenuous path to walk down. because when people see bearding as some sort of trapping mechanism to get out of, and then set expectations for what they want the girls to do in terms of how to get out of it, and their expectations do not get fulfilled, they tend to blame this on things which have been arbitrarily marked as unfair. and i think it often leads to people running to the concepts of blackmail, criminality, etcetera, as a catch all to explain and justify their ideals about how taylor or karlie should act. when we simply do not know the truth of the matter. and in terms of maintaining a healthy fandom community ecosystem, in my opinion, we ought to be able to amend our view of things with more ease and make the observation of kaylor a net positive in our lives as opposed to setting ourselves up to become angry or feeling perpetually disenfranchised at every turn based on the way we choose to define things. i am not saying we should not empathize with the complexity and tribulations of their situation or not hope for a future where we can all live life freely. i very much do. and i think there are hard times and sadness for them because of the realities of society. it’s just that, as a group, i think it is more useful or helpful for people like taylor to not have to worry about appeasing our feelings. she should have to spend time on us. in my opinion, in terms of priorities, we are behind other groups of people in her life and that’s how it should be. and so, i tend to avoid thinking about their situation as something bleak that they are getting buried under and may never get out of, but rather a uniquely complex situation that merits us extending some grace toward, in terms of setting expectations. and i think that the way we think about bearding or bearding contracts can affect our general mood and morale.

alright, thank you for allowing my tangent!

one parting idea for me is that, for example even in champagne problems, taylor was not ready personally to go through with something and that through the song she is acknowledging this hesitancy that came from her and how that might have ruined an envisioned version of things in a way, but that at the end of the day these are ‘champagne problems’ ie, problems that exist within the greater context of a situation of abundance. in a way, to me, taylor is saying, i know we have so much and at the end of the day maybe this hurt ought not to be compared to people in the world less fortunate, but i feel compelled to share this emotion anyway. there’s this tension in the song, for me anyway, between telling herself that her feelings aren’t important, and embracing and letting her feelings out (mostly the bridge). at the end of the song, reflecting on having torn down a banner, taylor hopes that her lover could find someone who could do what she could not in the moment, someone who recognizes how the bones are good, and she calls all her aforementioned feelings champagne problems. not that she necessarily believes that they are, nor is there magically some new person in the equation, but that she recognizes the difference in viewpoints between her and her lover and is wondering how to bridge the gap. i think in some ways that connects to the song happiness in the sense that taylor refers to her future self “all you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness, you haven’t met the new me yet, and i think she’ll give you that”

[securityholograms]

Jack Wolfe singing Don’t Do Sadness for the West End Spring Awakening anniversary concert

[moonstruckme]

Hi! So I have the issue where I’m not able to turn my brain off I guess and I’m having to constantly be aware of everything happening around me and managing everyone because if I don’t do it no one will. It’s so tiring to never have a minute to not be a very aware of every little thing. That being said, could I request a Remus or poly!marauders where reader is able to not be in constant manage mode? I know that’s really weird and if it’s too much just ignore this. Thank you for everything you do on here ❤️

Not weird! Very relatable actually haha. Thank you for requesting angel <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 823 words

“I like my system,” James says as you kneel in front of his suitcase, folding shirts. “My pants go on that side, then shirts in one corner and the rest in the other.” 

“I don’t think it counts as a system if you’re just piling stuff in, Jamie.” 

“How do you figure?” 

“Well, doesn’t it bother you that they’re all wrinkled?” You frown, taking out a balled-up pair of trousers. It bothers you, and they’re not even your clothes. 

“Not really, no. It’s a holiday, lovie, who am I trying to impress?” 

“Um, me?” Sirius shoots a look across the bedroom. He’s busy stuffing things into his own suitcase on the other side of the bed. 

“Oh, always,” James says gamely. “But you love me whether my shirts are wrinkled or not, don’t you?” 

Sirius makes a wishy-washy noise that sees James tossing a pair of socks at his head. He dodges and they bounce to the floor. 

“Did you remember your glasses cleaner?” you ask James, feeling about the pockets of his suitcase. 

“All under control, angel. It’s in my backpack.” 

“Perfect.” You finish neatly folding the last of his things and stand to kiss him. “Thanks.” 

“Thank you. Though you didn’t have to fold my underwear, I could have managed that myself.” 

“It was no problem.” You round the bed to where Sirius is packing, peering down at his suitcase. 

He looks up with a raised brow. “Can I help you?” 

“Are you packing your conditioner?” 

Sirius’ other brow comes up to join the first. “Yes, I am. Do you have a problem with my hair smelling lovely?” 

“No.” You smile, rolling your eyes when he pinches the back of your thigh playfully. “Just remember that it has to be under a hundred milliliters if you’re not checking your bag.” 

“I’ve got it, doll. You worry about your milliliters, and I’ll worry about mine, m’kay?” 

You hum. “And, um…” 

“What?” Sirius’ tone is dry, but it’s all fondness in the tilt of his mouth as he looks up at you. “You gonna fold my underwear, too?” 

“No, just, have you eaten? I don’t know if we’ll have time to eat at the airport.” 

“I think Remus wants you, sweetness.” 

“Hm?” 

Sirius points with his chin, and you turn to find Remus watching you from the doorway to the bedroom. He looks a particular brand of appealing in his travel clothes. The trackies James got him for Christmas probably shouldn’t go so well with his overlarge jumper, but Remus being Remus, of course it works. He beckons you toward him. 

“Oh, okay.” You glance back at Sirius one more time as you go. “Don’t forget to take your lighter out of your bag, security will take it away.” 

“Love you too!” 

“Hi,” you say to Remus, who wordlessly folds you into a hug as soon as you leave the bedroom. “Everything okay?” 

He hums. “Everything’s great, yeah. Are you excited to go?” 

You’re bemused but pleased by his hand running up and down your spine, his freshly shaven jaw pressed to your temple. “I am, yeah.” 

“Mm. Relaxed?” 

“I’m…yeah, sure.” 

Remus chuckles softly. “You seem a bit strung up, lovely. Are you all packed?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Good. Me too. Anything else you need to do before we go? Have you eaten?” 

“I ate, yeah.” You glance back towards the bedroom, the movement almost involuntary. “I think I just need to make sure—” 

“You’re all ready then?” 

It’s not like Remus to cut you off, but when you turn back around his expression is all fond patience. 

“I think so,” you say. “At least, my stuff is all done.” 

“Perfect.” He kisses your head, then takes your hand, leading you away from your boyfriends. “Let’s relax for a bit while they finish up, then, yeah?”

You let Remus guide you to the couch. At first sitting, then curling up against his side, your head resting over the steady beat of his heart. His hand runs up and down your arm, and slowly the tension seeps out of you. 

“Sorry,” you say after a while. “Was I being annoying?” 

“No,” Remus reassures you. “Of course not. You’re only helping. You just don’t have to, you know?” 

You cringe at yourself. At the clarity of hindsight. “Nobody asked for my help.” 

“We’re adults,” he agrees. “We don’t need to be managed—or we shouldn’t. If Sirius packs too much conditioner, he can sort it out himself.” 

“Right. Sorry.” 

Remus tuts, kissing the top of your head. “Please don’t be sorry. We all just want you to be able to relax. Give yourself a break, yeah?” 

“Yeah, okay.” You snuggle closer to him, letting the last of the tension sap from your body. “That doesn’t sound so awful.” 

“I’m glad.” The smile is audible in Remus’ voice. He rubs your arm again, encouraging you to relax further. 

“But what if James doesn’t know—” 

“Dove. He’ll figure it out.” 

[caught-in-the-filter]

.

[leyavo]

Wife/girlfriend series, I already done Ghost, Price & Soap. I think Gaz wouldn’t be married yet, but have a girlfriend… [Wife/Gf masterlist]

Gaz had his eyes on you ever since you stood up in court. The way your voice did not falter as you asked the difficult questions and got the defendant to crumble.

That and the pantsuit that was tailored to your body like perfection. Modest, but worn well.

You’re a military lawyer, Gaz watching over you, a favour to Laswell.

Gaz approached you as your hurried steps echo down the corridor. “If you have any notes, just send them to my assistant.” You brush him off, handing him your business card without looking up from your phone.

It’s not till he’s sitting in your office do you realise he’s there to assist you on the case and make sure no one tries anything. A particular messy political affair that you were more than capable to handle.

“I fear you’re wasted here sergeant Garrick.” You sway in your office chair, eyes on the paper in your hands.

“Don’t waste it then, I’m not only here for brute force.” He sifts through the folder beside you, “leave this guy till last, all talk and won’t last long towards the end.”

He’s a couple years younger than you, knows his people. Every now and then he’s making comments about the people you’re researching. Unknowingly helping you come to conclusion who can be trusted.

Late night researching and compiling information leads to you letting your guard down. He’s easy to talk to, charming without even trying. You end up ordering take out each night so you can work through all the details of the case. Gaz bringing you and your assistant a coffee each morning, he even remembers your specific order.

How could you not feel something for him? When his hand is on your back guiding you through the crowd or the way he shields you with his body when he thinks there’s a threat. You tell yourself he’s just doing his job, pushing down those feelings.

It’s not till you’re in a car crash, a targeted hit that he admits his feelings, but it takes time apart for him to do it. You’re arm broken and few grazes, whilst he’s lying unconscious in the hospital and later transported to the army base infirmary to get better. So you don’t see him for a while, finishing up the case by yourself.

Gaz entering your office days after, your assistant rushing after him. You nod for her to leave and she closes the door.

Turns out your not the only one that’s been holding back.

His arms wrapped around you, chin resting on the crown of your head. “Thank fuck you’re alright,” he said, wincing as you hugged him back. His ribs are bruised, bandage still on his head as if he’s discharged himself as soon as had the energy to come to you.

“There’s nothing to worry about now, those bastards won’t be walking free.”

His hands frame your face, “who would have thought you’d be saving me,” he said, nose nudging yours as his lips gently met yours.

You take Gaz out to dinner to thank him, a fancy restaurant that the portions are too small. The date going on all night and Gaz asking you have breakfast with him at a cafe.

Months pass and he’s away on a mission speaking to you via the webcam of whatever laptop he could get a hold of.

“How my girl?” He says, watching you at your desk as you scribble on your notepad. He likes that you’re always awake at random times and that 90% of the time you answer his call.

“Trying to clear this soldier, the systems so messed up Ky’ just so…” You rub your eyes, shaking your head and smiling back at him. “I’m good nothing I can’t handle, you look well. Guess you’re going dark soon if you’re calling me like this.”

Well, being the only word you can think of, the deep rims under his eyes and graze on his chin telling enough. He didn’t like dwelling on things, his positivity influencing you to see things on the brighter side too. He’s alive and breathing which is more important.

Gaz sighs, nodding. “Yeah, babe. Hopefully not too long this time. Make sure you look after yourself and take a fuckin’ break. You’ve got this though baby, I know you’ll win it and help the guy out.” Always reminding you how capable you are and trying to get you to rest.

“Look after yourself big guy, I can’t save you over there.” A smile tugging at both your lips. “I’ll book us some massages once you notify me of your travel.” The connection cuts out, your reflection staring back at you as Gaz’s screen goes blank.

The more you wait for him to contact you, the more you learn of how impatient you are. You’re checking your phone, emails and the old fax machine you got in case he’d communicate with you that way. You’d learn morse code if you had to.

Gaz surprises you with his return though. You’re at the military ball, glass of champagne in your hand as you swish it around in your hold. He stops at the top of the stairs and your breath hitches. Black suit and tie, his broad shoulders and cinched waist complimented by the tailor you’d recommended him.

As he descends the stairs you just stare, you can’t believe he’s really there. His hand finds the small of your back, lips pressing against your temple.

“Missed me, baby?” He whispers in your ear. You don’t have it in you to scold him for not telling you, he looks healthy and this time he’s returned with no marks.

It doesn’t take long till Gaz is moving into your apartment. He’s buzzing about the communal gym and swimming pool. Dragging you to do some self defence and weight lifting so you can look after yourself when he’s not there.

When you finally meet the rest of TF 141, Price is talking your ear off and asking about some big profile cases you helped run. Ghost already knows you through another mission, you over saw the legalities of transporting something as evidence on his solo mission. Soap is encouraging you as you talk about the broken system of protecting soldiers and how he knows others that haven’t been able to afford a good lawyer. Gaz not interrupting or telling them to shut up. He knows how passionate you are about your job and justice.

You give them all your business card “hopefully you won’t need them boys.”

Gaz collapsing on the sofa once the guys have gone. You curling into his side with a glass of red wine each.

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while). Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?). Word count: 2.2k+

Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included. 

The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost. 

The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger. 

You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence. 

You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely. 

It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?

Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life. 

One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–” 

“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.” 

Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?” 

You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.

 “What are you trying to say?” You ask. 

“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."

Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?” 

Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.” 

Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did. 

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.” 

You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”

“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek. 

You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him. 

“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”

“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?” 

Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder. 

It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside. 

As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in. 

“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?” 

“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"

You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.

“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses. 

“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.

“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says. 

“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!” 

Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just…just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.” 

Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings. 

As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?

Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.

Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time. 

Chapter II [x]

[sunasbon]

CHEER FEVER !

SYNOPSIS! : nerd gojo and his pretty cheerleader girlfriend!

WC:(4k)+ warnings : college au, shy nerd gojo, cheerleader reader!, semi public,nicknames, pussy eating (sweetheart, baby),jealous gojo that’s all for now!

satrou wasn’t the jealous type of person in general, truth be told he couldn't help but feel that way when his pretty little girlfriend is a cheerleader catching the eye of a particular jock on the field while you were warming up with the rest of team, in your old fashioned—uniform with you pom pom before tonight’s game started with the rest of your teammates.

“satrou you okay, you’ve seem kind of out of it a little?” you pouting on him, crossing your arms over chest a little uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach, you knew him better than anyone even himself.

the question caused satrou to raise an eyebrow in curiosity, though he only gave a nonchalant shrug in response, "hm? oh, yeah, i’m fine i guess." satrou tried his best to hide his jealousy, though he failed utterly as his girl had seen right through him.

“you sure? I can walk you too class, while i finished up practice for the game.”

the offer from his you seemed to put satrou on ease, as his eyebrows no longer wrinkled and his frown turned into a small smile, "that would be nice of you." satrou replied, not really sure of what else to say. it's not like he can just outright admit that he's jealous, that would be just downright pathetic.

“of course I’ll see you after practice then” you waved him off, going back to the track with her cheerleading teammates.

satrou waved goodbye towards his you, watching you run back towards your teammates and practice without any further incident. her bubbly personality seemed to always brighten up his day, even when he was feeling a little down. it's almost as if everything went right with her around.

he watched the football team take a break, taking a moment to scan the crowd and observe everything going on around him. he let his eyes wander around the stadium, only to eventually settle on to—a familiar sight from your school. toji was, without a doubt, one of the best quarterback players on his team, and satrou had heard many praises his skill and talent over the years. his athletic ability and dedication were something to be envious of.

his star quarterback status was nothing to sneeze at either, making him a very desired figure among the female students at their school. satrou would hear stories about how the girls would fawn over him every time he stepped on the field.

toji's handsome gaze met yours, his green eyes locking in on yours and not relenting. he smirked at you in a teasing way, his confidence and charisma oozing from his pores as he walked over to you. he had a cocky and flirtatious look on his face, which only seemed to highlight his attractiveness.

as toji stepped off the field, he looked around toward where the cheerleaders were practicing. his eyes quickly met with yours, and he gave you a subtle wave, smiling in your direction. it seemed like the entire field and bleachers turned their heads to him now, as most of their eyes were glued on toji, staring intently, making it easy to see how attractive of a figure he was.

he was annoyed at the whole situation, his anger growing with each word that exchanged between you two. "who does the jock think he is? he thinks he can just walk up to you and expect you to just fall head over heels for him? he's lucky i'm not beating his ass right now."

toji's appearance certainly didn't help with your frustration surrounding him—he was handsome, beefy, and confident enough to walk up to you without even a care in the world. he had the entire stadium in a trance. the cheerleaders all fawned over him as he made his way toward you.

some girls even shouted his name to get his attention, hoping they'd be the lucky ones to be blessed by him. satrou watched the entire scene play out, finding himself growing increasingly irritated with toji's existence—biting the inside of his cheek.

not having much better to do with the half-time break, you decide to walk into the locker room to pick up something from your locker, taking the few free minutes you had to get some things in order before the game resumes. you weren't aware of just how long you spent in your locker when you suddenly felt a familiar presence approaching from behind you.

you were so involved in getting your stuff in order, you didn't notice toji. the arrogant-quarterback from the school's football team approaching from behind you. he leaned in towards you and let out a subtle chuckle, leaning his arm against the locker behind you and placing his body close to yours.

toji's smirk grew wider when he noticed the annoyed tone in your voice, his eyes shining with amusement as he stepped a little closer to you, putting him in your personal bubble. "do I really need to say?" toji replied, not taking his eyes off of you for a single moment—trying to woo you with his small talk wanting to get into your pants, plus you knew it really and wouldn’t give him that attention.

"I'm not dating you, forget it."you weren't amused by his actions at all, and instead, you were irritated and disgusted by his flirtatious antics.

the words that came from your lips made his smirk fade away in an instant, you putting him in his place had caught him by surprise. a small frown appeared on his lips as he stepped back from you, his hands coming out of his pockets, "I get that you're already dating someone, but that doesn't mean you can't have a little fun once and awhile, right?" he asked, a cocky smile returning to his lips.

honestly did he really think you were going fall for his charms and popularity status? what a joke.

the mention of satrou name had toji's eyebrow shooting up in surprise, though he didn't look very impressed by the information. he couldn't understand why a beautiful girl like you would lower yourself enough to date a nerd, especially when the jock sitting in front of you is offering himself to you like that. toji narrowed his eyes at you. "are you kidding me? you seriously prefer dorks over jocks?"

"yeah? why are you surprised at that?" you scoffed at his remarks clearly not impressed by his performance to try and seduce you, it was pointless almost.

toji's cocky smirk faded away once more at the blunt answer that came from your lips, your lack of embarrassment and straightforward tone made it clear that you were not flirting with him whatsoever, he was just wasting his time. "oh is that so? cause i highly doubt it." he said sarcastically, taking a step closer to you, once again, invading your personal bubble.

you don’t respond only giving him a blank look.

even though you had made your rejections perfectly clear, toji was stubborn, refusing to accept that the beautiful girl in front of him was not into him. he stepped even closer to you as you attempted to walk away, now placing his frame in front of you. "oh come on darling, i know you like me. i can tell by how much you seem to look my way all the time."

“trust me, i don’t.”

the sound of the pa system announcing that the game would start back up in a few minutes filled the stadium and the players with energy. you didn’t hesitate to follow the cheer leaders back towards the field, not letting toji get into your head and ruin your spirits.

however, toji wouldn’t give up so easily, as he quickly followed close behind you and tried to engage in conversation with you again.

despite his flirting antics, you chose to brush it off and ignore him. you've had enough of his ego and his attitude, and all you wanted to focus on was your team winning tonight. you continued walking, trying to block out his voice and the way he kept on trying to be close to you.

after a few minutes, you made it to the field where the cheer leaders were all practicing their performances for the game.

you felt your annoyance and anger build up as toji once again tried to engage in conversation with you. he was persistent and annoying, and he wouldn't take a hint no matter how many times you brushed him off. it was truly the most irritating thing you've experienced today?

was he really that desperate?

the sound of the pa system announcing that the game would start back up in a few minutes filled the stadium and the players with energy. you didn’t hesitate to follow the cheer leaders back towards the field, not letting toji get into your head and ruin your spirits.

however, toji wouldn’t give up so easily, as he quickly followed close behind you and tried to engage in conversation with you again.

satrou narrowed his eyes towards your direction, upon seeing that toji was still trying to engage in conversation with you—even after he was repeatedly told to go away—was enough to set him off.

he pulled you into a tight embrace, not letting toji get a word in edge-wise. however, this was only followed up by an uproar of gossip among the students, who began to crowd around you, toji, and satrou, creating some sort of chaotic scene.

the sound of their whispers filled the atmosphere, and the attention of the students shifted away from the game and towards the three of you in the middle.

the crowd continued to grow bigger and louder as the students started speaking among themselves, all wanting a glimpse at what was happening. toji, satrou, and you were now the main attractions, and the whispers quickly turned to gossip and rumors.

with the situation now growing out of hand, you could hear a few of the students snickering and laughing at the scene, making snarky remarks about all of you. people from all over the stadium gathered around to watch the scene unfold. it became almost impossible to hear anything over the sounds of the growing chatter coming from the crowd.

satrou was standing next to you, a fiery glint in his eyes as he glared at toji, not backing down from the situation.

a few whispers started spreading among the crowd when it became clear that satrou was confronting toji and was about to start a fight. some people in the crowd got up from their seats, hoping to see the action as it unfolded. some students started chanting "fight!" as they eagerly awaited the two to start brawling.

satrou blue eyes narrowed at toji, his tone becoming deadly and sharp as he responded with a few words. "so are you going to keep flirting with her like a pathetic dog or do you want your teeth knocked in?" satru kept his attention on toji, his grip on you becoming tighter with each word he spoke.

you saw satrou’s eyes flicker a dull red for a moment and a wave of heat radiating from his body. he had been angered by toji's insult enough to want to punch him in his face, but he couldn't lose track of what was important here.

he wanted to punch the jock into the ground for his comment and the way he would never leave you alone.

toji spoke up in response to satrou remarks, his demeanor and tone becoming more frustrated as he spoke. "as if a twinkie like satrou could actually punch me, I'm surprised he hasn't taken her out on a date yet." toji's cocky grin returned to his face once again, his expression becoming even more snarky.

this was getting out of hand fast.

satrou continued to trade insults towards toji, his anger and temper escalating even more as he spoke. "you're an idiot if you think you can be so pathetic as to walk up to another's man's girl and flirt with her right in front of them." the crowd around you grew louder and louder, many people cheering for satrou while they watched the two argue.

toji’s smug smile only grew wider as he responded, his words becoming more sarcastic and arrogant. "look, twinkie, i'm just doing what any other jock would do. you should be thankful that i let you have her for so long." the crowd of students grew even louder at toji's comment as he continued to smirk smugly at him, trying to get under his skin even more with his words.

gojo clenched his fist practically turning white from his comments even hearing toji's smug remark, and his patience was running thin at this point. he finally lost it. gojo suddenly swung his fist like lightning as it connected straight to toji's jaw with a loud smack. it was enough to make toji's whole head whip back, his eyes widening in shock as gojo fist landed right on his cheek.

"you'll be sorry for hitting me, twinkle," toji sneered, a smirk still plastered on his face despite the bruise now forming where satrou had punched him.

the crowd was still in an uproar, many of them cheering for satrou while others were trying to instigate another fight. the guard still held satoru and toji at different sides of the building, making sure they couldn't get their hands on one another any longer.

you followed satrou as he was being escorted to the other side of the building. you didn't want to even look towards toji at this point, as you were annoyed with his incessant flirting and harassment directed at you.

satoru was still hot-headed and angry after their altercation, as he kept muttering curses and insults under his breath when he wasn't addressing the guard. he seemed like he was having a hard time keeping his temper in check.

you saw satoru finally letting himself relax. sitting down on the bench next to you and taking your hand in his. his expression softened, and his body language relaxed as he slowly let go of his tension. he was relieved that it was over and that no one had gotten hurt in this whole ordeal.

satrou’s grip on your hand was tight and comforting—feeling the tension still lingering from the encounter that’s was moments ago. he looked over at you with a relieved expression, and his mind was focused on having you by his side and calming his nerves.

you're taken aback as satrou grabs your arm and pulls you away to the vacant locker room, where you two had some privacy. he wrapped his your arm was tight and firm, but not in a rough manner as he dragged you along.

once you were inside the locker room, satrou closed the door behind him and pulled you close to him in a intimate manner.

he slender arms looped around you, his breath becoming a little heavier as he pulled you closer. he didn't need to say anything else to tell you that he wanted you right now, his whole aura was telling you that.

your bodies were pressed up against each other, and his lips were hovering dangerously close to yours—nothing more than to let out that pent up energy that’s lingering inside of himself.

“can’t believe that asshole.” satoru mumbled against your lips, kissing the inner curves of your mouth. his slender hands roamed over your body squeezing your waist pulling you closer to his board chest fitting together—two puzzle pieces together as one.

‘your nerd of a boyfriend can’t satisfy you’ tsk let me prove him wrong? hm baby?” he states in a mocking tone a small smirk plastered on his lips, knowing his words were a complete joke to him. satrou knew you inside and out and knew the right ways to make you cum wether it be from his fingers alone or his tongue every time, never fails to make you fold underneath him—like pure putty in his hands.

your body felt warm and euphoric as satrou's lips moved along the corner of your mouth, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. your breath grew shorter and shorter with each kiss to your neck and each inch closer to your lips. his tender kisses felt like a sweet and gentle massage, making your body tingle with euphoria.

your whimpers were like music to his ears, filling him with an intense urge to take whatever he wanted. he was fully intent on taking complete ownership of your body with his touch.

“toru…come on the game starts back in a few—”

“the game can wait, but I can’t.”

shortly, your back is pressing against the cold tilted of the locker rooms as satrou wet kisses the nap of your neck trailing down turning into more sloppy ones leaving a trail, you desperately tried to close your thighs together feeling your growing auroral through the fabric of your sparkling bedazzled outfit—feeling a hint of warmth coursing through your body.

satoru smile faded slightly noticing your shift of movement tilted to the side—mumbling against your tummy stopping completely for a moment.

“what’s the matter baby? hm? don’t you want me to eat your pretty pussy?” he teased at the last words playfully, his cheek still nuzzled into your softness of your tummy, feeling the warmth of his slender fingers gently squeezing and resting lazily on your sides.

“i-i do..” you stammer out desperately trying to keep your thigh closed together trying to hide the wet spot in the fabric of your cotton panties, it was stupid to even try to hide it you knew it. only desperately wanting him as bad as he wanted you.

“hm? didn’t catch that baby. you want to speak up for me?” he taunted that cheesy smile of his plastered on his face knowing your embarrassed about couldn’t help but to tease you a little bit more, his slender fingers lifting your skirt bunched up the fabric pulled itself up slowly.

“toru..i-i……need you please” you confessed softly warmth spreading through your body once more, causing satoru smirk to deepen at your words trailing his sloppy kisses down to stomach tracing along the waistband giving it a gentle tug as it loosens falls down your thighs to the floor.

“that’s my girl.” satoru cooes, swiping his calloused thumb across your sensitive nub. his gaze lands on your cunt, nuzzling in between your soft thighs hearing his breath hitched. satoru thick lengthy fingers toyed with your clit, pinching the sensitive nerve causing you to jolt against him.

“toru…c’mon..”

“so impatient baby hm. gettin’ wet f’ me barely even touch you.”

satoru mumbles, tugging and toying at your clit. his glossy lips glinting in the dim light teasing you into utter bliss causing you to writhe around at the stimulation.

your hands tugged at loose white strands of hair causing him to groan against your thighs, his tongue alternating between swirling around your clit and sucking on the sensitive nud—feeling the heaven through arching your back perfectly. not caring whom heard you throughout the walls of the locker room.

“satoru..!..ngh..please..”

“fuck…baby y’er close already? bet that jock can’t eat you out like this huh…”

your moans mingled together throughout the room bouncing off the walls, as satrou continued to tease your cunt with his tongue eating you out as if your were his last meal on earth his face stuffed with your cunt.

“answer the question baby.”

“n-no…toru….mph!fuckfuck..”

you writhing around against his face tightening your hands on his hair throwing your head, if it wasn’t for holding your thighs over his shoulders keeping you steady—knowing your legs would’ve given out on a instant.

satoru’s hands held your thighs open for him, the flat of his tongue slurped up your slick probing deeper inside of cunt you could only buck your hips against his face, trying to gain more stimulation from him but he had other plans.

only to, suddenly removing himself nuzzled between your thighs covered in your ecstasy and salvia dripping down his chin, with that same teasingly smirk lingering causing you to whine and scrunch your brows together in frustration. you didn’t honestly think you were going cum so easily with a teasing bastard like him huh?

“satoru…w-why..did you stop??” your breathing was still heavy and your skin glowed in the dim lighting of the locker room. sweat started to bead up on your forehead, and you still felt a hazy from the stimulation. you were grew rather frustrated and wanting to reach your orgasm to have it decided by your lover.

“sorry babe, but the game starts back in a few minutes.” he hums but you could practically hear the tease in his voice, placing you on your feet. you mumbling a few curses underneath your breath huffing, feeling you stumble forward you catch yourself.

satoru smiles back with a cheeky and teasing smirk as he watches your annoyed expression when he pulls away. he then unlocks the door, giving you no chance to respond or continue any further action, even though you were very tempted to do so. he laughs and winks at you before stepping out of the locker room, leaving you all by yourself inside.

you straighten out your uniform and make sure your appearance was looking proper before stepping out of the locker room. you didn't see satru anywhere, but you assumed he was already at the game. he did say that the game was starting in just a few minutes, and he was always one to be right on time. you made your way towards the game, looking for satrou amongst the other students who had already taken their seats.

you began to get concerned about satrou’s sudden disappearance, worried that he might be in trouble. he had gone missing without a trace after you two left the locker room, and his whereabouts were completely unknown at this point.

you searched all the crowd of students, searching for any sign of satrou but came up with nothing. you began to get increasingly worried with each passing moment, wondering where he could have gone so suddenly without a word?.

just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse than this. where the hell did he go?

oh great.

a wave of concern washed over you as satrou still hadn't shown himself by the quarter of the game, which only caused worries of where he could have gone to creep up on you. you were worried and stressed, not knowing if he were hurt and unable to show himself, or somewhere else. your annoyance grew with each passing second, until you suddenly heard toji's voice behind you.

"looking for someone?" toji asked, looking at you with a smug grin on his face. his friends all stood close to him, smirking as they looked at you. one of them even had the nerve to let out a chuckle, clearly enjoying how annoyed you were at the moment. it’s as if they were mocking your concern for satrou—was nowhere to be seen still. “I wouldn’t worry much about him, the nerd show sooner or later. or not.”

“what—why?”

“you ask way too many questions, relax. we have a game to finish. see you out there sweetheart”

you started at them confused, wanting to run after them to question them more but it was too late they were already heading to the field—but you should’ve expected them not take this matter seriously.

you only hoped gojo was okay somewhere.

@screampied @hoshigray @shaguro

[lowkeyerror]

Congrats on Your Divorce

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Notes: Requested, fluff & smut, librarian!reader, divorced!Wanda, smut, fingering, thigh-riding, cunnilingus

Summary: You befriend Wanda, a regular at the library you work at, after learning about her divorce. The friendship becomes something more one day when you come over to help her with her sick kids. As your relationship progresses you even talk about buying a home together, which leads to a physical manifestation of how much you love each other.

An: It took me awhile because I got a little carried away. I hope I did your request justice 🙇‍♀️.

Masterlist

You enjoyed the mundane lifestyle that came with working at the library. There was a comfort that came with knowing that you worked in something of a community center. Being able to provide a service that for some was the highlight of their day. In this day and age having regulars at the library was a rarity, especially the adults. Kids would come after school for homework or for research purposes, but the adults were few and far between.

Technically it may have been weird that you had a favorite but you couldn’t help yourself. There was a woman named Wanda, she’d come once a week ask for a recommendation and sit there the whole day and read it.

She’d always make a comment or two on the book on her way out and it made you smile. It was good to know she appreciated your picks. Though there were other staff members she only really asked you.

When she missed one week, you found yourself discouraged. One week turned to two and so forth until it had been a month since you saw the woman.

“Y/n, it looks like your regular is back. She might need a little assistance,” one of your coworkers approaches you.

“What are you talking about?”

They give you a look that says ‘seriously’, “Ms. Recommendations, she’s in the non-fiction section looking a little worse for wear.”

You nod and make your way over to the section. There you find Wanda. Your coworker was not exaggerating. She looked so fragile as if she was just waiting for the tears to fall. She was staring at the books, but it was easy to tell that she wasn’t really reading anything.

“Looking for anything in particular,” you say softly, trying not to startle her.

She seems to snap out of her trance enough to try and answer you, “No, not today.”

It felt like she was speaking on autopilot. If it were another guest, you would’ve let her be, but this was Wanda. Perhaps it was a bit para-social but it felt like you knew her better than the average customer.

“I- I don’t mean to overstep, but are you alright?”

She lets out a tired sigh, “That obvious?”

You attempt to back track, “No… uh it’s just I haven’t seen you around in a while."

She looks away for a moment, “ Yeah, I um got a divorce. So I’ve been a hermit as of late.”

“Oh, congratulations.”

Wanda can’t help but laugh at your words, “Most people have been saying they’re sorry to hear, but congratulations? It’s kind of refreshing.”

You shrug, “Well I don’t think divorce is always a bad thing. It’s hard for sure, but it’s better than staying in a situation you don't deserve.”

“What if I was in the wrong?’ Her eyes are glued to the floor as she speaks.

“I may be overstepping again, but I doubt that's the case. You don't seem like the kind of person,” your tone doesn't make her argue, instead a look of relief crosses her face.

“I'm not,” she says taking a deep breath.

You smile at her, “Then it’s their loss.”

She smiles back at you, “I guess you’re right.”

Glad to have made her feel even a little bit better, you begin to leave the aisle she's in. You dint get far before there’s a gentle tug on your wrist. You turn back to stare into Wanda’s warm green eyes.

She’s nervous as she speaks, “I don’t know if I’m too old to be doing this, but fuck it. I could really use a friend right now and I was wondering if you’d be open to getting coffee or something, whenever you’re free.”

You stare at her for a few seconds before nodding, “I’m off in about 15 minutes, there’s a café a few blocks over that I think everyone should try at least once.”

Her excitement builds up in her features. She clears her throat to hide it, “I’ll wait for you by the YA novels?”

“Sounds perfect.”

From that day on Wanda wasn’t just a regular customer anymore, she was your genuine friend. She was also one of the sweetest people you had ever met in your life. She was unbelievably strong too.

The details of her divorce were quite messy. A touch of infidelity here and there, mixed with a custody agreement was a recipe for disaster.

You always offered to be there in any way you can’t for. She usually turns down your more serious offers for help, and sticks to fun small outings. You can tell that she’s somewhat embarrassed by her situation, but you don’t think there’s anything she should be embarrassed about.

“Y/n, I know I said I was free to go out today, but Tommy is sick and Billy isn’t doing that great either, can I give you a rain check?”

She called you and you could hear the tiredness and distress in her voice, “Let me come over and help you, Wands. Two sick kids is rough work, I know you could use a hand.”

She’s silent on the line, but the coughs and sinus filled conversation doesn’t stop.

Wanda sighs, “Okay, do you think you can bring me some medicine? I’ll text you some ingredients I need for soup too if that’s alright?”

“Whatever you need, I’ll see you in a bit,” you say simply.

You follow through on your word picking up various cough, cold, and fever medicines along with some cough drops. You nearly forget about the stuff for the soup, until Wanda texts you something she left off the ingredient list. After picking up everything you head to her house.

You’d been to her house before, but never when her kids were there. You had seen them with her a few times at the library, but back then you didn’t quite deduce that they were her children. It feels so obvious now, but Wanda was definitely a young mom in your opinion, or at least she looked like one.

You rang the doorbell and waited with the groceries in your hand. It took a moment but eventually the door swung open revealing Wanda. Though your hands were full, she’s the one who had bags under her eyes. She looked as though she would fall over any second.

“You’re a godsend Y/n,” she tries to take the bags from your hands but you don’t let her.

“And you’re sick too, here I figured this would happen,” you rummage through the bags and pull out a medicine that’s for adults.

“It’s drowsy.”

You nod, “I know, I figured you need the rest anyway, let me handle its.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Are you crazy? You think you can handle my two kids and me on your own?”

You smile at her, “You underestimate me, Maximoff. Let me show you what I can do.”

“We’ll see, but first come meet them properly.”

You sit the bags down in the kitchen, opting to take the medicine upstairs with you. She takes you to their room.

Tommy is propped up in his bed watching as Billy plays videogames from his spot on the floor.

“Tommy, Billy, this is my friend Y/n. She’s going to help us out today,” Wanda introduces you.

“The library lady,” Billy sounds congested as he speaks.

You nod your head enthusiastically, “ Yep, that’s me. I heard you boys were sick, so I brought some stuff to make you feel better.”

Tommy gags, “Ew medicine.”

You sympathize with him, “Ew is right, but it’s worth it I promise. In fact, I’ll sweeten the deal, you guys take your medicine, and I’ll make you the best soup of your life in return.”

“Better than mom’s?” Billy questions.

“ 1 million times better,” you egg him on.

Tommy is more hesitant, “I don’t know.”

You get closer to him, crouching so you can meet his level, “How about when you’re feeling better, we go out to the arcade and get some ice cream too.”

That seems to be enough for the boy, “That sounds awesome.”

While you’re chatting with them Wanda starts to prepare the medicine cups for the boys. They take the medicine with all the dramatics that children do.

“Ok, we’ll be back to check on you guys, shortly. Billy, get some socks baby. Tommy stay under the covers sweetheart."

The both of you exit the room and head back down the stairs. Wanda moves to start unloading the groceries, but you stop her.

“If you’re not going to fully rest, at least sit. I can make the soup,” you point to the barstools she has in her kitchen.

“Are you sure? I can help-"

You block her from opening the next bag. She looks into your gaze, which holds no feeling of malice or resentment. Instead she finds a warn and tender look behind your eyes.

“I’ve got it.”

She listens to your directions and takes a seat

She watches as you prep the ingredients, ever so often asking where she keeps certain things. Otherwise there is a fluid motion to your movements in the kitchen.

“You know you don't have to take them to the arcade just because they took the medicine, right?”

You pause slightly from chopping vegetables to look up at her, “I probably should’ve asked if it was okay with you first, but I don’t mind taking them. They seem like good kids, which isn’t a surprise at all considering they’re your kids.”

She beams at your words, “They’re a little more docile in this state, but they can be a handful at times. We haven’t really had a big outing like that since the divorce, I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

“Then consider it done, as soon as they’re better let me know. We can all go out and have some fun.”

Wanda can’t help the feeling she gets hearing you talk so nonchalantly about going out with her kids. It’s something like a spark, that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She takes this time to really look at you, you’re stunning. Truth be told Wanda had always found you a little attractive, but she wrote it off as you just being conventionally good looking. However now, with you standing in her kitchen cooking for her and her kids. She’s starting to think it’s more than that.

“Do you like children, Y/n?”

“I have a soft spot for kids, it’s partially why I chose to work at the library. I had kind of a rough upbringing as a kid. It was just me and my mom, and money wasn’t all that great, but I remember her taking me to almost all the community events they hosted at the library. We spent a lot of time there. When I was old enough to go on my own, it was rare that I didn’t go. The library is such a haven for kids it’s one of my favorite things about it.”

Wanda felt herself melting under the sincerity of your words, “That’s really sweet.”

You start cooking down the vegetables before you answer, “Yeah, if I wasn’t so crazy about the library, I would’ve been a chef. I actually applied to a few culinary schools in high school, pretty ambitious but I had won a few competitions. I had offers and full ride scholarships to some of the best schools out there, but I chose to become a librarian instead.”

Wanda tilts her head to the side playfully, “So you weren’t just talking shit when you said you’re going to make a soup 1 million times better than mine.”

You laugh, “Technically I’m using the ingredients that you told me to get, so it’s more like our soup. I’m just tweaking a few measurements and cooking it a little different. It’s like a group project, if you will.”

Wanda laughs even harder, “You’re so full of shit.”

“Language, there are children present.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “They’re upstairs."

“Children have super good hearing Wanda, trust me, I’m a librarian.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle. She watches as the soup comes together a lovely aroma fills the kitchen, her mouth waters at just the smell.

“It smells delicious.”

You motion her over to the stove next to you. She scurries over, which makes you smile. She looks utterly adorable and ethereal at the same time. You began to notice it over the last few times you had hung out. Wanda was simultaneously the cutest and the most beautiful woman, you think you’d ever met in your life

“Taste,” you hold a spoon full of soup up for her.

She hesitates a little, but decides to just eat from the spoon while you hold it. Her eyes close as the flavors dance on her tongue. She lets out an involuntary moan, that has her blushing as soon as it leaves her mouth.

“Oh my god, that’s the best soup I’ve ever had in my life,” Wanda stares at you in awe.

“I hope the boys think so too.”

Wanda helps you fill the bowls for them, “They’re going to love it.”

True to her words the boys devour the soup going as far as to ask for seconds. Neither of you can deny them another bowl. Once they eat, you can see the food working in tandem with the medicine to tucker them out. Before they’re completely out of it you and Wanda get them ready for bed.

It feels more normal than either of you expected. By the time you’re done, both twins are now in bed. The tv plays something at a low volume, but you and Wanda are both aware that the kids will likely be asleep as soon as you leave the room.

When you leave you head back to the kitchen fixing 2 more bowls of soup for Wanda and yourself. You eat amongst each other with small chatter, but it’s comfortable. When you’re done, you almost have to fight Wanda to allow you to do the dishes.

She pouts, once again sitting at the barstool watching you clean.

“You haven’t let me help this whole time,” she whines.

“I’m here to help you, not the other way around,” you remind her.

Wanda places her hands on her hips, “But if you’re doing everything, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just sit there and look pretty,” you say without thinking.

Wanda feels her face heating up, losing track of how many times it has happened today alone, “Look pretty, huh?”

You can feel your ears heating with embarrassment, “oh I- well.”

“Oh my god are your ears turning red, that’s literally adorable. Are you flustered, Y/n?” Wanda teases.

You glare at her with faux-anger, “My ears? Your cheeks are just as red.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You wash your hands, quickly drying them before approaching her. You keep walking until there is virtually no space between the two of you. You look down at her, you don’t stop your eyes from dropping to her lips.

“Oh really?”

She looks up at you, her cheeks indeed, red like you had mentioned.

“And if they were?”

“Maybe I’d say that it’s adorable,” you use her words against her. “Or maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Her eyes dart to your lips.

You look back into her eyes, “Maybe, I’d kiss you.”

“I’d like that.”

That was all you needed to hear. She met you halfway and, in an instant, you were kissing. Your hand rested on the small of her back, while her hands locked around your neck. It was cliché but it was cute. The kiss itself was respectable, but still filled with a feeling of longing.

Wanda’s hands drop from your neck to lightly push you back, “I’m divorced with two kids Y/n-"

You stop her before she can even rant, “I know, Wanda. I’ve been here, maybe not the whole time, but most of it. I don’t care that you’re divorced and I’d love to get to know your kids. I’d love to get to know you better.”

“I feel like you already know me, Y/n. We’ve been friends for over a year now. We’ve spent so much time together, I’m just surprised you’re not tired of me yet.”

You take her hands in yours, “I could never get tired of you. I’m quite literally asking for more. Let me take you out some time.”

“Are you sure?”

It’s bold, but you place a quick kiss on her lips, “Positive."

From there things just seem to fall into place. You kept your promise to the boys, taking them out when they recovered from their sickness. Wanda was impressed by how well you mingled with them considering her ex always seemed to struggle to relate. However you, had no problem tapping into that childlike like amazement that the kids felt.

Soon after that outing, you and Wanda went on your first real date. You took her out to a nice restaurant. It was an upscale establishment, the prices weren’t even on the menu. Wanda tried to fret about how she didn’t know if she deserved this kind of treatment, but you always reassured her.

You believe she deserved the best and as long as you could give it to her you would.

It only took 4 dates before you asked her to be you girlfriends, not being the best at waiting. Luckily for you she agreed and truth be told if you would’ve asked her on the first date she probably would’ve said yes then.

At this point you’ve been dating for a little over a year. The twins are with their father for the weekend, and Wanda is staying over at your apartment.

The two of you are on the couch. She’s resting in your arms as you watch tv, “Wanda.”

She looks up, “Yes, detka.”

“How attached are you to your house?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why?”

You hold her gaze, “Is it crazy if I say that I want us to live together?”

Wanda plays with your fingers, “No, I don't think so.”

You kiss her forehead, “It’s just a thought.”

“You want to buy a house?”

You nod curtly, “We don't have to leave the area, I know the boys have school and I wouldn't want to pull them away or make them start fresh or anything, but I’ve been looking at some homes in the area. Something a little bigger, Billy and Tommy could both have their own room and a huge backyard. Maybe a dog, in the future.”

Wanda cups your face gently, pulling you down to kiss her, “I would love to buy a home with you Y/n.”

“Really?”

Wanda kisses you again, “Really.”

“I love you,” your eyes softening as the words fall from your lips.

“I love you too.”

Your lips are connected again, this time neither of you break the kiss. Instead Wanda shifts in your lap to straddle your waist. Her hands playing with the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. Your hands start at her thigh but end up sliding up to her hips, and soon your fingers are in contact with the cool skin of her stomach.

You aren’t able to stop yourself from kissing down her jaw. She moves her hair and cranes her neck to give you more access. Your teeth sink into her neck only for your tongue to soothe the skin. You suck the spot tenderly, causing little whines to emanate from Wanda.

“Y/n,” your name is breathless on her lips.

She doesn't have to say anything else for you to stand up with her still in your arms. You carry her to the bedroom. Once you’re in there and her feet are on the floor, you pull her shirt off. Yours follows after.

Wanda feels herself getting wet under your gaze. The way you take in her bare chest, eyes blown with want. While you stare she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. You eagerly do the same.

You pull her flush against your body. Skin heating upon contact.

“You’re perfect,” your thumb toys with one of her nipples.

Your head dips to take it into your mouth. You suck lightly, ever so often slowly fanning your tongue over the nipple. You do the same to the other nipple, while your hand cups her warmth. You moan at her wetness.

“ I need you,” she whispers.

You kiss her tenderly, backing her onto the bed. You’re gentle as you ease two fingers into her. She arches her back slightly, and her kiss becomes sloppier.

You’re in no rush as you slowly build pace. Her finger nails dig into your back.

“More please,” she buries her head in your neck.

You begin pumping at a faster pace, using your thumb to stimulate her clit. Her ragged breaths in your ear only turn you on even more.

You jolt as you feel her hand in-between your legs. Her fingers play through your folds and you hear her gasp in your ear.

“All for me baby?”

You nod, “All for you, Wands. Can I taste you, baby?”

“Fuck,” Wanda murmurs.

She pulls her fingers from you, signaling for you to suck them. You take them in your mouth, swirling you tongue around the digits, high off of your own taste.

Once her fingers exit your mouth, you maneuver down her body. You momentarily take your fingers out of her. She doesn’t have time to complain before you’re sucking on her clit.

“Holy shit,” she entangles her hands through your hair.

You keep eye contact with her as you lick, suck, and slurp her pussy. She throws her head back, taking her lip between her teeth. You can see sweat illuminating her body.

Soon you add your fingers back and you can feel her approaching her edge.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she keeps repeating the mantra as she reach her peak.

You don’t stop when she cums on your tongue, only slowing your motions, to help her come back down.

“You did so good for me baby,” you say kissing up to her lips.

She shifts so her thigh is against your dripping cunt, “Your turn, my love. Use me.”

You see her flex her thigh, which causes you to moan, “Fuck, Wanda.”

Your hands rest on her shoulder as you begin to grind down on her. Her hands are on you, but the movements are all yours. Wanda watches with blown eyes as you fuck yourself on her thigh. Her hands climb up your sides to massage your breasts. You bite your lip as her fingers play with your nipples.

Wanda sits up slightly, just enough to get her mouth on your body. She sucks on near the top of your breasts, trailing hickeys across.

“I love it when you make a mess on my thigh, cum for me, moya lyubov.”

You cum all over her thigh. Her arms wrap around your midsection holding you steady as you shake. Her head rests against your chest, listening to your wild heart beat return to normal. She places a delicate kiss on your shoulder.

“I love you.”

You kiss the top of her head, “I love you too.”

Once you’re both cleaned up, you settle in bed for the night. You’re start out as the big spoon but soon Wanda turns to face you.

“I was so scared before you came into my life,« she admits.

“Wanda-"

She shakes her head, “Let me finish. I was so lost, I didn't know what to do, if there was anything I could do to feel like myself again. There were so many days I went through thinking I was unlovable. Then you show up, and all of those feelings and thoughts just leave. I’ve never felt so cared for. You make me remember all of the things I love about myself. You make love seem so easy, it feels obvious when you’re with me. I’ve never experienced a love like you’ve given me and I need you to know I love you too. I’ve never felt what I feel for you with anyone else.”

Wanda starts out loud and sure, but by the end her voice is quiet. She doesn’t break eye contact, fighting against her insecurities.

There are no more words shared between the two of you. Wanda kisses you with everything she is feeling and you return her fervor. She pecks you again before burying her head in your chest. You hold her tightly in your arms wondering how you ended up being so lucky.

Her words make emotion swell inside of you. Your voice cracks when you speak, “You are the love of my life. I was doing alright before, but you and the boys are truly everything I’ve been missing in my life. Getting to be with you, a part of your family, it means everything to me Wanda. Thank you, for letting me love you.”

[stars-interlude]

HII i saw your post asking for inspo and Imma tell you about a fantasy i had. Yk how hot tubs have those jets you can turn on? Imagine spicy time in a hot tub with Scaramouche, him sitting you down nice and pretty on one of the jets until you're practically begging for him, multiple orgasms later :,)

Hot Tub

Sometimes you and your longtime boyfriend Scaramouche just wanted to get away from it all. This time he recommended a vacation house that just happened to have a pool and a hot tub.

“You know, we have the whole week off”

he brushes a stray strand of hair out your face. You smile up at him as you sit down “A little fun wouldn’t hurt” you shrug your shoulders.

Packing your stuff was always a pain in the ass especially for Scara because either you packed way too much or way too little and you end up wearing scara’s graphic t-shirts

Scara glances over at your bags “You really need to learn how to pack less..” he rolls his eyes “And you need to learn to pack more things other than black t-shirts” you throw back a snarky remark quickly. “Well black goes with everything sweetheart. No matter I’m gonna start packing the car.”

He then walked away.. You zipped up your last bags and you walked to the car yourself to find Scara sitting waiting for you. “Archons.. about time” you give him a nasty look playfully as you sit in the car “i should’ve made you wait a little longer huh”

The drive started and you had the honor of the music playing. Scara looked at you “I have a feeling that this particular get-away is gonna be.. interesting” You raised an eyebrow “Interesting? please elaborate” you smirked He just laughed his eyes still on the road and it left you wondering what could he possibly be thinking.

You decided to press further “Interesting huh? Are you gonna share or keep me guessing” Scara smirked finally giving you a glance “I don’t have a single doubt that you won’t be pleasantly surprised for what i have i store for you..” he placed his right hand on your thigh as his left hand was on the steering wheel.

No matter how much you tried he didn’t seem to crack, you settled back into your seat the music kept playing in the background as you looked out the window at the small towns and the few scenic landscapes you guys passed

The hours in the car passed by fast, and before you knew it the two of you were at the vacation house. “Darling” Scara called out to you “we’re finally here” you said as you sat up

“I don’t need all that sass” He crossed his arms. you got out the car to admire the house that the two of you would be staying in. “Babe, you know what we should do?” Scara said as he got out the car with you. you looked back at him “hm? what are you thinking?” He grabbed your waist and put his head on your shoulder “we should take a dip in the hot tub.. relax from that long ass drive” You considered his request and silently agreed

After unpacking your bags the two of you were in the warm Hot tub as the sun started to set “I must say Scara.. this is quite nice” Your boyfriend soon shifted closer to you “hey darling, do you wanna try something?” He said with a smirk, you scoffed and raised your eyebrows “and what would that something be?” you folded your arms as you said it

Scara got close to your ear like he was trying to make sure no one heard even though it was just the two of you “why don’t you sit on one of those jets huh? sit all pretty just for me” You got warmer from the idea “Uhm maybe..” you thought what could possibly go wrong? You looked back up at your boyfriend “okay..” You stood up and slowly took off your bikini bottoms and you sat back down in the same spot you were in before. Scara chuckled he then turned around and turned on the jets the hot tub got bubbly quick

He took your waist in his hand and pushed you up against one of the jets, at first it felt weird but soon the discomfort turned into pleasure. Moans started to spill from your lips even with your eyes closed You could still feel scara’s eyes watching you intensely. Your moans started to get more intense, when you opened your eyes you saw him staring at you with a grin.. “Scara.. i’m gonna cum, it feels weird” he laughed “what do you want me to do?” his eyes narrowed as he smirked at you “okay, after you cum once or twice maybe i’ll consider taking you on my cock how bout that?” you didn’t have any other choice but to nod

It felt like it had been ages, you’d came for the nth time. as you came and your eyes rolled back scara held your chin and kissed your lips gently you’d like to think of it as an apology to what he’s put you through “[name] are you ready for the real thing?” you sluggishly opened your eyes to look at him “mhmmm i think so..” he slowly pulled you away from the running jet, you felt a wave of relief wash over you after the pressure from the water was gone

But soon after he pulled you away, he pulled down his swim shorts and his cock was stiff you watched as he pumped it a few times. You were nervous at the thought of taking him after being so sensitive from the jets, you were soon pulled out of your thoughts when Scara pulled you into his lap aligning his cock with your hole. He then quickly thrusted into you, you let out a yelp of pain mixed with pleasure.

Your head fell onto his shoulder and moans began to fall from your lips “fuck baby your pussy is taking my cock so good..” Scara was groaning in your ear. He took a hold of your hips as he bounced you up and down your moans getting louder with each one “Scara! it’s to much i can’t” he let out a laugh mixed with a moan “you’re so cute baby, but i can feel you twitching around my cock” your eyes rolled back and you gripped your boyfriend’s shoulders tight enough to bruise after he said that it sparked some in you

you let out one more loud moan before you came, Scara still showed no mercy and kept going after you came for the nth time “shit.. i’m gonna cum” He mumbled his thrusts got harsher and he let out a loud grunt as he came inside you and you both laughed as you saw his cum sink to the bottom of the hot tub

a/n: see you in another 5 months, the end was so rushed so don’t be surprised when you don’t like it ! have a good day/night people

[letsbangts]

thank you || jjk

⤷ summary: when you express your appreciation for the man you married in an essay

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 1.4k

⟶ genre: fluff, married couple au, established relationship au

⟶ content: husband!jk, fratboy!jk briefly mentioned, sweetheart kook that could cause cavities

⟶ warnings: none just pure fluff

↬ a/n: so this is inspired by you may want to marry my husband. hope you enjoy! :) as always hope you enjoy & let me know what you think! angel xoxo

masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

I have been married to the most extraordinary man for four years. I am planning on many more (a plan that has been in effect since our first date seven years ago and will continue to be). And for that, I feel I should express my gratitude.

Thank you. 

Honestly, I do not know what I am thankful for, for everything, I guess? For him always being there, for him staying by my side. For loving and treating me exactly how I have always wanted a man to. 

Now, you may wonder who this gentleman is, and I am so happy to tell you, Jeon Jungkook.

He was an easy man to fall in love with (I did it in one day).

Let us take a trip down memory lane, shall we?

Seven years ago, a young lady struggling with dealing with college and her part-time job, gets dragged out by her best friend (I guess I should be thanking her too), attends a year-end party at a frat house one late evening. About an hour later, she bumps into a boy who spills his drink on himself, though all he can do is say to her with the brightest smile: “You okay there, Clumsy?”

And when she looks up at his face, she realizes that this is no douche frat boy with beer on his shirt, but an unbelievably attractive high-spirited young man. She shyly replies: “Yeah, I’m okay”.

That is when what was supposed to be quick party banter with a stranger turned into a night of great conversation and a polite walk home. That then turned into sweet exchanges of subtle flirtatious texts and small phone calls that had this young lady thinking: Uh-oh, there is something extremely lovable about this person.

As the couple enjoyed many hangouts during the beginning of summer (by the end of the summer, I knew I wanted to marry him), amidst the ever-growing flirting, they finally acknowledged their immense attraction. Then the hangouts turn into dates when that lovely young man finally asks her out. That is when they would have officially kicked off their step from subtle flirting to blatant, very obvious flirting—the beginning of a couple that would only continue their journey together.

So that was the start of us.

I am a bit biased, but I will create a list based on my experience of coexisting with Jungkook for about 2,556 days on the reasons I am thankful for him and thus love him. The following list of attributes is in no particular order because everything about him is so important to me.

Starting with the basics: His blindingly contagious smile, his gorgeous body filled with pure joy and positivity(and muscle), his adorable fluffy hair that falls over his forehead to match his striking brown eyes, and his effortlessly breathtaking passionate singing, of course.

Jungkook always knows how I am feeling and how to match his mood to whatever one I am in. He can read my face with just a simple glance. I have always appreciated how he adjusts his mood to fit my own. If I am in the dumps and his spirits are up, he brings them down to comfort me; even if he is down in the dumps, he lifts his spirits to keep a smile on my face. And for that:

Thank you.

If I could list just one of the things that made me fall in love with Jungkook from day one and still makes my heart flutter to this day, it would be his little acts that are natural for him, and show how much of a gentleman he is. He always opens doors for me, making sure I walk on the inner side of the sidewalk, giving me his jacket to wear, or carrying me into bed when I fall asleep on the couch. He may not know how much I appreciate the little things, but those little things always remind me I sincerely have the best man out there. 

Silently suffering with the things I put him through that he may not want to do. Sitting through the cliché chick flicks, trailing behind me in the store as I look at three different tops that he says all look great on me but always end up picking the one he can tell I want more, or even giving up his personal space and all feeling in his right arm because he knows I sleep much better entangled with him.

That brings me to something Jungkook may not know that I know about him. He holds in a lot more than he leads on. The song he tells me he is struggling to perfect, but tells me it is only a little bit of writer’s block. Yet I can see in his eyes that it stresses him much more than he says. Yet he is always quick to change topics with a:

“How could you have gotten prettier while I was gone?”

Or

“So tell me about your day. Did anything interesting happen today?”

If I did not know him so well, I could have easily missed these things, but I have come to learn about the kind of person he is. He is the type of person who always puts others before himself. He leads himself to take on the role of making sure others around him are okay. He already knows he does not have to hide his worries from me, but Jungkook still always tries to keep the minor worries to himself because he believes they are things I will excessively stress over on his behalf. (and he is right, I would, what can I say, I love the guy)

We have come to know each other so well over the years, huh?

When looking for a dreamy, last-minute adventure, he is my man. He always comes with me on random, just-because trips, be it a road trip to the countryside for a break from the city or a train ride to the sea to walk by the shore.

Thank you.

If it is still unclear, here is the kind of man Jeon Jungkook is: He surprised me on my first day at my new job with flowers because he knew how nervous I was. He is a man who is always up early and goes out to surprise me every Sunday morning by putting a different kind of flower on my nightstand with a love note. A man who comes out of the minimart or gas station and says: “Hold out your hand.” And, voilà, a plastic ring he got from a gumball machine (had that been his proposal, my answer would have been yes).

I am sure you understand what I am trying to say by now, and he already knows how crazy I am about him. Wait! Did I mention that he is incredibly handsome? I will never get tired of looking at his handsome face.

If I am making him sound like a prince and our relationship sounds like a fairy tale, that is not too far off. I consider his proposal one for the books:

“Ever since you stumbled into my life, quite literally. I have never been able to picture being without you. Will you marry me, Clumsy?”

Jungkook, I was serious about what I told you in our vows:

“I always want more time with you, Jungkook. I want more time with the guy who takes me to get ice cream in the winter. I want more time sipping beer in bed with my drinking buddy. Although I desire our time together to be endless, we cannot live forever. But as long as I am alive, as long as I am a person on this planet, I will continue to follow you wherever the road takes us. So let us walk it together, alright?”

Your dependability and loyalty are the qualities that show you are the most extraordinary husband, the most extraordinary man, and will be the most remarkable father one day. I know you will lead our future family into a lifetime of happiness because that is where you have been leading mine for seven years. I know you will continue to do so.

I will wrap this up because I can go on and on about how you are the most genuine, non-self-oriented gift I could have received. So, thank you for being you. I hope for the day that I get to tell our children about the kind of man their father is, the man Jeon Jungkook is, and about the love story I am honoured to be a part of.

(P.S. That day I mentioned will be coming in approximately nine months!)

With all my love, Clumsy xo

[retrobutterflies]

Ambrosia | billie eilish

Billie Eilish x Female!Reader

Summary: Your avoidant attachment style can only work for so long until it's time to face the music.

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Bi panic, hurt/comfort, fluff

Part II

A/N: If you've gone to see her on tour, you and I are in a fight.

You had been acting off. You knew it. And you weren't a very good actress so you could tell your friends knew it too. But no one had said anything, at least not yet. You had tried to drop hints of work being stressful or your lease ending soon but they were halfhearted and pitiful attempts to camouflage your real turmoil.

You could tell Billie knew it too. Her eyes lingered on you a little longer when someone would say a joke and everyone would laugh and you would be quiet in the corner consumed by your thoughts. A few times she called your name to pull you back into the conversation, a quirked eye brow and side smirk barely concealing the confusion or concern lingering in her eyes. Sometimes it was a gentle nudge in the side or handing you a fresh drink to pull you back from your mind. And it would work for a while until you couldn't stop focusing on how close she was sitting to you on the couch or how every time she would laugh her body would lean into yours and you would feel her warmth and smell her perfume. And then you would be sucked right back into the buzzing thoughts of panic and fear and confusion and you would be plotting your escape route before you imploded.

Tonight was harder than usual. You had been in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and sipping your third beer that was finally giving you a little buzz, softening your brain for the time being. Oliver had come up to you with an award winning grin and glinting eyes. He was a friend of a friend but he seemed to be at every party you were and slowly but surely you started talking and flirting every time you saw each other. You knew if you wanted someone to dance with or chat or make out in the bathroom you could find him and he would give you his charming smile and an enthusiastic yes.

Only tonight it was different. Everything had felt different since your startling realization on the floor of your room a month ago. You noticed him before he reached you and instead of the usual feelings of excitement or anticipation, all you felt was anxiety. Your stomach had been in knots on and off all night and suddenly at the sight of him they were back to full power.

"I thought I'd never find you," he mused, strolling up to you and leaning his torso against the marble counter top. "I thought maybe you were avoiding me."

You let out a soft puff of a laugh, taking a larger gulp of your beer before replying, "I'm avoiding everyone.”

He quirked an eyebrow, pushing back a brown tuft of hair out of his forehead. "For any particular reason?"

You pursed your lips, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, thinking about how to respond. "Just, tired, I guess," was your intelligent response.

"Just tired, you guess," he echoed, eyebrows raising further as he tilted his head at you. His eyes were piercing and you could feel him trying to peel back the layers of your newfound shell.

"Too tired to even dance with me?" he asked, giving you a soft, playful nudge in the side. You tried to give him a smile though you were sure it looked more like a wince.

"I'm sorry, Oliver, I'm just–" You struggled to find the words, the knots tightening in your stomach, "–out of it today."

He let out a hum, taking a sip of his IPA, and stared at you long and hard.

"Is this about a boy?" he questioned.

You winced but it only seemed to encourage him.

"So it is. C'mon, I'm not upset that you have a crush, I’m just upset its not on me," he joked, nudging you again. When you didn’t respond he continued.

"So," he repeated, "Who is it? I promise I'll keep it a secret."

You shook your head, taking another large sip of your drink like it could wash away the anxiety blooming in your chest.

"Is it Ben? You guys used to talk didn't you?" he continued, eyes now scanning the busy kitchen and through the archway peaking into the living room.

"Or Sebastian? I know he's always had a thing for you. He glares at me sometimes," he let out a chuckle.

"Oliver–" You tried to cut him off.

"Wait no, it's Griffen isn't it? God, I should've guessed that first."

"Oliver, stop, please," You put a hand up to rub the spot between your forehead that was starting to ache.

He looked back at you and frowned. "I get it, you don't have to tell me. I have been told I give good advice though," he said.

You looked up at him. His big brown eyes were sincere and there was a time when they used to make butterflies erupt in your stomach. But now it was like any fascination you had had with him before had puffed out like a candle.

"Listen, I appreciate that, but–" You let out a breath, trying to choose your words carefully, "this has nothing to do with a boy."

"You sure?" he replied, skeptical. Your stomach twisted again.

"I'm sure," You breathed.

He left you alone after that, strolling away to find his next playmate. You stood there for a while, people watching and sipping on your beer. It didn't take you long to notice Billie with a few of your friends, perched on a couch in the living room, a perfect view from the kitchen. Someone said something and she laughed, throwing her head back, hair glinting in the low lighting. You stared for longer than you should've.

And then she finally noticed you. Her eyes caught yours and her smile morphed into a softer more tentative one. The anxiety that had been appeased for the moment roared back to life and you felt your heart rate quicken to the point that you could feel your pulse in your neck. You looked away, clenching onto your near empty beer can before sliding it onto the counter. You looked up to see the far door to the balcony and before you could think your legs were taking you there.

It was surprisingly empty and the chill of the autumn air felt refreshing against your burning cheeks. You leaned your elbows on the metal railing, taking in a few deep breaths as your eyes scanned the glowing lights of the city skyline.

You felt like you were going crazy. Everything you had known about yourself had suddenly flipped on its head on a random Tuesday and now you couldn't function normally. You were overthinking everything. All of your relationships, all of your friendships, all of your actions. How could you have not known? How could it have taken you this long? Don't people usually know right away?

"Hey," her voice hit you like an electrical shock. You jumped slightly and usually this would've made her chuckle but you could tell she knew something wasn't right. "Sorry," she said, her voice a hair softer, "I didn't mean to scare you."

You finally turned to look at her as she was closing the sliding door behind her. Her eyes seemed cautious and she took slowed steps towards you like you were a frightened animal.

"No, it's fine. Sorry, I'm–" losing my mind, "just a little tired."

She came to stand next to you, leaning her arms on the railing as well, and nodded. A few pieces of dark hair fluttered in the crisp breeze and your eyes lingered for a moment. You took in her side profile, the slope of her nose, flush of her cheeks, the pinched wrinkle between her eyebrows. She was quiet for a while, eyes looking out at the city, seeing through it like it wasn't even there at all.

"You seem to be tired all the time now," she finally said, her voice low and soft. You could hear her attempt at light humor, trying break the tension that had settled between you as the weeks went on but you could read her well and you could see the worry etched on her face and feel the apprehension in her words.

"Yeah," was all you could muster to reply. Your mind flashed back to all of the plans you had turned down or cancelled on last minute under the ruse you were tired. You turned your attention back to the city, trying hard to focus your eyes anywhere but her face.

You could practically hear the thoughts buzzing in her head, all the words and questions she had for why you had suddenly sunk into yourself. And why you had suddenly started avoiding her. She let out a soft sigh. You could feel her gaze on the side of your cheek but you couldn't bring yourself to look at her.

"Are you doing okay?" she asked, voice even softer than before.

You bit the inside of your cheek. You weren't sure how to respond. Any wrong word and you might very well burst into tears.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" You replied. You tried to sound nonchalant but even you could hear the slight waver in your voice. You moved your hands to grip the railing, an attempt at grounding yourself so you didn't lose your resolve in front of her. You were already thinking about an escape route, maybe to the bathroom to cry or maybe straight out the front door where you could call someone to come pick you up.

She paused for a moment, staring at you. You could tell she was trying to read between the lines, hear the words you weren't saying. And you knew if you met her eyes she would be able to pull them from you in an instant.

"You know," she paused again, her eyes still boring into the side of your face, "usually I don't pry because you always come to me when you're ready but–"

She let out another sigh, finally pulling her gaze away and back towards the twinkling night. She tapped her fingers softly on the railing. You could hear her rings making gentle clinks against the metal. It was a tell tale sign she was nervous or agitated, or maybe both.

"You're worrying me a little." She took another breath. "And I just want to make sure you're alright because I can tell something is bothering you even if you're not ready to tell me what it is yet."

You could feel your eyes start to sting and your hands were starting to freeze from clenching the cold steel of the railing for so long but you didn't dare move them for fear their fidgeting would give you away. But your throat had tightened to the point that you weren't sure you could say any word without it sounding strained and threatening tears.

"And–" she started again, her voice taking on a slightly pained sound, "if I did something that upset you I'm really sorry. I know I can be a lot sometimes but I don't want that to make you uncomfortable or . . ." She trailed off, grimacing at her own words.

You finally plucked up the courage to look at her. She looked pained and you felt the anxiety in your stomach turn to dread. She looked so worried and it was obvious that your strange behavior had been affecting her for a while now. And somehow she knew she was the cause.

"You started acting strange after the last time we hung out and I–" she scrunched her face up in regret, "–didn't mean to do anything that would make you uncomfortable and sometimes I get too comfortable and I forget to check myself–" she let out a frustrated sigh. You turned your gaze away sharply.

Your mind spun back to that moment a month ago, both of you sitting on the floor of your room. You didn't even remember what you had been talking about but you remembered your stomach had cramped from laughing so hard. And your faces were so close together. And she had started playing with your hair, first brushing it behind your ear and then twirling a strand or two. And then her finger had brushed so lightly against your cheek once, then twice, then it travelled down your jaw then towards your neck and left goosebumps and tingles in its wake and then so suddenly like a bolt of lightening you had wanted her to kiss you.

Your whole life you had thought you only liked boys. You had only ever had crushes on boys and dated boys and then suddenly you wanted a girl and you had to double back through every interaction in your life to see if you had been deluding yourself, refusing to acknowledge this second side of you. And it was an earthshaking realization that you hadn't even known yourself and that you had been so blind to it.

And then the worst part about it was that it wasn't just any girl but it was your best friend. The most major, important, integrated person in your life and suddenly you had feelings for her and you had no idea what to do.

"I just–I didn't mean to let it get–" she cut herself off, letting out another frustrated huff.

You couldn't risk looking at her. Your eyesight was already blurring from the moisture building up in your waterline and you knew if you made a sound it would cause them to start falling, ruining any last shred of dignity you had left.

You could feel her gaze on you again, penetrating and heavy and from the corner of your eye you could see her shoulders sag and her head dip slightly.

She was quiet for another few seconds before murmuring a quiet, "I'm sorry."

It made your heart clench painfully and you wanted to turn to her and reassure her that nothing was her fault and you were just dealing with your own inner turmoil but you could already feel a few tears escaping your eyes and rolling hot and fast down your wind-bitten cheeks.

She took your silence as rejection and pulled back suddenly from the balcony. "I'll, um, leave you be for a little. If, uh–" her voice sounded pinched and low and you could picture the look of defeat on her face and it made you feel like throwing up.

"If you need a lift home, just, uh, let me know," she murmured.

She turned around and took a few steps to the door, hand resting on the handle. You turned to look at her, sudden panic and desperation clawing at your neck at the thought of her leaving even though a second ago that was all you had wanted.

"Bil–" Her name got caught in your throat that had tightened so much you felt like you were choking.

She turned quickly, shock filtering across her features as she noticed the tears.

"Are you crying?" her voice held a quiet tone of surprise but it was enough for the rest of the tears you had been desperately holding back to break free.

You cupped your hands over your eyes, a hiccup of a sob leaving your lips, and pressed your sleeves into your eyelashes in a piteous attempt to dry up your tears. You heard her whisper your name before you felt her in front of you.

"Please don't cry. I didn't realize–" Her hands went to your shoulders, squeezing slightly before pulling you forward until you could feel her torso pressing against yours and feel her arms winding around your body.

It was useless fighting your emotions. They had always won before. It was silly of you to think you could beat them now. You felt yourself sink into her, your hands moving to wind around her neck, pressing your cheek against her warmth.

"I'm–I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you were so upset. I–" she sounded like she couldn't find her words, still surprised by your reaction. Her arms tightened around you, one of her hands reaching up to cup the crown of your head.

She dragged her hand down the back of your head, fingers raking through your hair, brushing against your scalp. You stood there for a while, your tears soaking into the sleeve of your shirt, her delicately stroking your head, dolling out a few hushed apologies even though there was nothing for her to be apologizing for.

Finally, when your choking whimpers and nearly ceaseless tears quieted down, she pulled back. She pulled her sleeve over her hand and pressed it gently against your cheek and with slow and deliberate movements she wiped away the wetness on your face. It was an intimate enough gesture to bring more tears to your eyes but she tutted at you.

"Come on, baby. I don't want you to run yourself ragged," she cajoled though her voice was still hushed and the worry never left her face.

'Baby' hit you right in the chest. She had called you that before, and more often in recent memory, and though it had always made you feel warm it had never quite knocked the breath out of you like now.

She swiped her thumb over your eyelid, then the other, brushing the new tears from your lashes. Then she swiped the delicate skin under your eyes, once, twice, maybe a third for good measure. You couldn't tell where the flush in your cheeks from the cold stopped and the blush began. Her eyes now held yours and in the darkness their hue was almost as dark as the deepest part of the ocean and you could see the lights of the city glittering in her irises like she had plucked all of the stars from the sky and sprinkled them in her eyes. And for a second time you were breathless.

"Why don't I take you home?" she breathed, eyes now flittering around your face.

You wanted to reply with something witty, something to ease the tension even a hint but you couldn't find your words. All you could do was give her a nod. She held out her hand to you and like it was second nature you took it. Her rings were cool against your skin but her hand was warm and soft and she gave you a reassuring squeeze before gently tugging you back inside the apartment.

She didn't bother to say goodbye to anyone. You were sure she was doing it for your sake. You knew you looked like a mess. Her car was parked on the street and she opened the passenger door for you and waited until you were seated before shutting it and going towards the driver's side.

She didn't say anything, only turned the radio on to a comfortable buzz before starting in the direction of your apartment. You leaned your forehead against the cool glass of the window and shut your eyes tight, trying to take in the small moment of peace before you knew you would have to finally explain yourself. You could feel her heavy glances and for a moment you swore she was going to reach out to touch you but she didn't and soon enough you were pulling into the parking garage of your apartment.

She pulled into one of the designated spots for your unit, the other one reserved for your roommate. It was essentially hers since you didn't have a car and the familiarity of her pulling in like normal when she hadn't done it for a month had your heart clenching again.

The elevator ride was quiet as was the walk to your unit. When you opened the front door, your roommate and her boyfriend were cozied up on the couch, watching the newest slasher flick. You had calmed down enough to offer them a pleasant greeting as you took your shoes off and they turned their attention from the glowing TV to respond. You could see the peaked interest on your roommate's face at the sight of Billie standing next to you who she hadn't seen since that fateful day.

"Let us know if we need to turn the volume down," your roommate said and you gave her a small smile before leading Billie down the hall and to your room, shutting the door behind you.

For the first time ever, she looked somewhat lost being in your room. You were so used to her sprawling on your bed, borrowing your clothes without needing to ask, using far too much of your body wash when she took a shower and now she was lingering by the door, arms crossed over her chest like she was too scared to touch anything. You dropped your bag onto your desk and sunk down to sit on the bed. You patted the spot next to you.

"You can come sit," You said, before adding, "If you want."

She relaxed slightly and nodded, shrugging off her jacket onto your desk chair before taking the space next to you. You sat there in a thick silence. You opened your mouth to speak but your courage was depleting at a rapid rate and your eyes kept flashing back to that moment a month ago, seeing you both like ghosts sitting on the floor in front of you. She finally broke the silence first.

"I just want to say that," she took a steadying breath, eyes focused on her hands that were wringing nervously in her lap, "I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable and I'm sorry that I overstepped a boundary."

You let your eyes wander over her face. Her brows pulled together, furrowing slightly as she thought back to that day.

"I know you don't have those feelings and I–" she shook her head, pieces of dark hair falling into her face making her brush them back behind her ears.

"I shouldn't have let myself get close like that. It wasn't fair to you," she admitted, letting out an irritated exhale.

She was quiet again. You weren't sure if she was waiting for you to answer or trying to find the words to keep going. You felt your pulse quicken as you stared at her. She lifted her head and her eyes met yours and again you were breathless. She had always been beautiful but you had never let yourself view her as anything more than a friend. And now looking at her you had the crushing realization that you didn't think you could ever view her as anything but anymore.

"Billie," your voice was quiet and you didn't realize what you were going to say until the words were spilling out of your mouth.

"I love you."

She blinked at you, eyes wide and flickering between yours. And then she grimaced. You couldn't help but feel the wash of rejection settle in your chest.

"Don't say that," she said, shaking her head and looking like you had just slapped her.

"Why?"

She stood up abruptly, like being close to you was suddenly suffocating her. She crossed her arms back in front of her chest, eyes looking around your room but focusing on nothing.

"Because you don't mean it," she muttered, her eyes following the myriad of pictures and polaroids you had decorated over your wall, her face smiling back in more than a few of them.

"What do you mean?" You almost laughed at the absurdity. "Of course I do."

She shook her head again and turned back to look at you and you were taken aback at the sudden anger swirling in her eyes.

"You fell of the face of the planet four weeks ago," she snapped. Her eyes were narrowed and her thick liner made them look darker than normal.

"You barely answered my texts. I thought I had done something horrible. And then when I realized what I had done you were no where to be found for me to apologize. You iced me out so fast it made my head spin!"

You couldn't help but gape at her. She bit her lip, her eyes now glimmering with her own tears threatening to fall. The sight of them made your insides coil up so tight you almost felt faint.

"One second we're talking about the future, laughing at the possibility that we could ever live apart from each other and the next second you're gone like I was suddenly nothing to you," she exclaimed, her voice raising in a mix of anger and pain. A couple of stray tears rolled down her cheeks and she angrily wiped them away with the back of her hand.

"You can't just leave me like that and then . . . and then–" she let out a shuddering breath, "say you love me."

You felt your tears resurface, stinging against your lashes as you stared at her. Guilt was wrapping around you like vines and you couldn't believe you didn't realize how much you had hurt her from pulling away like that.

"And it's not fair because you don't even mean it. Not–" she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment like she could force her tears back.

"It doesn't mean the same thing to you,” she finally met your eyes, "Not in the way that it does to me."

"Billie, I–" You felt your breath get caught in your throat, "I'm so sorry."

She stared at you for a painstakingly long moment before the anger seeped out of her and was replaced by dejection. She sunk down to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"No–" she rested her forehead against her knee, her face now hidden from your gaze, "I'm sorry. I just–You'd think at this point I'd be able to deal with it better, you know? But it doesn't seem to get any easier."

You got up from your spot on the bed and sunk down to the floor with her.

"You have feelings for me," You suddenly realized, eyes scanning her as if you were trying to see what you had been missing all this time.

She let out a humorless laugh. "Brutal, isn't it?”

She chuckled again, raising her head to rest her chin on the top of her knee.

"You don't even like girls. And I can't seem to like anyone but you," she admitted, her voice rasping at the end. It sounded like she had accepted her fate long ago and you couldn't help but feel the pang of regret in your chest at wishing you had realized this so much earlier.

"I tried to make it go away. But sometimes I would just let myself pretend just for a second that you felt the same way," she let out a heavy breath.

"The last time I was here, I just, I let myself pretend a little too long and I got carried away."

She met your eyes and a few rouge tears dropped down her cheeks. Instinctively, you reached out and brushed them away, cupping her face and swiping your thumbs across the swells of her cheeks. She closed her eyes and you watched her face relax for a fleeting moment before the anguish was creeping back in again.

"You can't do that," she whispered, eyes blinking open as she pulled her face out of your hands. "You're only gonna make it worse."

You stared at each other for a few moments, the air heavy and thick with emotion. But you could feel your resolve strengthening after she bared her heart to you. You figured it was only fair to do the same.

“I love you,” you repeated, this time more firm than the last.

She winced again like the words were painful to hear.

“I mean it,” you said, “I love you.”

She shook her head, not believing your words or maybe thinking you didn’t understand her.

“You don’t,” she denied, opening her mouth to retort again but you cut her off.

“I do,” you insisted. “Please, just–Let me explain.”

She closed her mouth, blinking at you before giving you a short nod.

"I grew up in a very traditional household," you started, taking a wavering breath to ready yourself. "My whole life I was surrounded by nothing but heterosexuality. My parents, my relatives, all of my friends. And I had always liked boys but it had never crossed my mind that I might like girls too."

"And when I met you I knew you were going to be so special to me. It was kind of frightening how quickly we grew attached. But I had always valued my close friendships with girls that I just–" you shook your head, eyes straying to your hands nestled in your lap, "I hadn't realized that sometimes my feelings went beyond the scope of platonic."

"But last month, when you were here and we were talking I . . . I had this sudden realization that I wanted you to kiss me.”

You looked up to see her eyes boring into you. She kept so still like she was worried one wrong move and you would close back up.

“I had to . . . comb back through my life to make sense of it. I didn’t realize–I thought you just knew. I thought it was so crazy of me to only realize now and . . . how stupid could I be for not knowing I felt like this.”

You shut your eyes, thinking back through all those memories you had replayed over and over again.

“And then I thought back to moments between us,” you let out a shaky exhale, feeling your eyes sting, “How close we get, the things we talk about. How I don’t let anyone do the things you do. How I always look to you first for anything.”

You could feel her penetrating gaze even with your eyes shut.

“And then I just . . . I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Your friendship is so important to me but I didn’t know how to be around you without confronting these new feelings. And I couldn’t,” you winced, letting out another shaky sigh, “I couldn’t bare the thought of losing you because of them.”

It was so quiet for a moment you thought maybe she had left. But after a few beats of silence you heard her shuffle towards you and then slowly her arm curved around your back and she was pulling you into her.

“You could never lose me,” she said so softly it was nearly a whisper, her voice thick with emotion.

You bit your lip hard to stop it from trembling. Her other hand found your face and cupped your cheek, nudging you to look up at her. You opened your eyes to be met with her anguished expression, eyes glossy in the dim lighting, eyeliner smudged at the sides.

“And you’re not stupid,” she said, brows furrowing further.

“But how could I not have known–”

“That doesn’t make you stupid. There’s no calendar for this shit,” her thumb danced softly over the plush of your cheek, so light, so delicate, you couldn’t help but lean into it.

“So you believe me?” you finally asked after another bout of silence.

“That you love me?” she questioned, a rasp in her tone. You nodded.

She moved her hand to stroke back your hair from your face, thumb lingering on your hairline as she brushed back the soft baby hairs.

“Yes,” she finally conceded, eyes roaming around your face like this was the first time she was able to openly admire it. Her face drew closer and you could feel the warmth of her breath graze your lips.

“You just can’t go cold on me like that again,” she breathed, her eyes so blue and captivating like this was some sort of spell she was weaving on you. “I felt insane.”

You let out a weak chuckle. She mirrored your smile, eyes straying to your lips.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, making her eyes meet yours again, “I really am.”

“I know, baby,” she replied.

That was all it took for you to lean in and kiss her. She took a sharp intake of breath, maybe in surprise, but her lips responded to yours in an instant. They were so soft, velveteen and silky, and you could smell her sweet perfume overwhelming your senses. And she tasted like honey and mint and ambrosia and you couldn’t believe you hadn’t kissed her before.

Her hand raked through your hair, curving around the back of your neck, massaging the tendon as her kisses grew deeper and sweeter. You felt your mind start to mellow into a hypnotic buzz where you couldn’t think much past her and her satin lips and her soft exhales fanning over your face. Her other hand slid around your torso, palm centering on the small of your back, before she was pulling you into her and up onto her lap.

“Fuck,” you breathed between kisses, wrapping your arms around her neck so you could press yourself in further.

Slowly her kisses strayed from your lips, tracing the edge of your jaw. She nudged her cheek against the underside of your jaw making your head lift so she could press fiery kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. You dug your fingers into her hair, tightening your hold when she found an extra sensitive spot making her let out a pleased hum against your skin that vibrated and tickled.

“Bil–” You could barely speak, so consumed by her ministrations.

She littered kisses on your neck and over your pulse point where you were sure she could feel how fast your heart was beating. You felt her grin against your skin, nipping softly before apologizing with a searing kiss. Your body was turning lax and her arms tightened around your torso, anchoring you to her.

Then her lips were moving back up, leaving a wake of tingles as they climbed before they found yours again. You kissed back eagerly, trying to convey everything you weren’t able to in words, your guilt, your fear, your worry, your adoration, your love. And she drank you in, evaporating the remnants of your anxiety and doubt.

It took you a moment to realize one of her hands had slipped under the back of your shirt, her palm warm and pleasing against your bare skin. She dragged her nails lightly down your spine and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sensation. You felt her smile against your lips and after pressing one, two, a third, another kiss she finally relented, pulling her head back so she could look at you.

Your eyes fluttered open, dazed. Hers were half-lidded and penetrating and her lips were a bright pink, bruised and swollen. Her free hand reached back up, pushing your hair back and stroking her fingers delicately along your cheek.

“I love you too,” she murmured, voice so soft you could’ve missed it.

A flood of warmth filled your chest and a blush rose on your cheeks and she seemed unable to stop herself from leaning in and pressing a kiss against the flushing skin.

“I really missed you,” you confessed, sighing in contentment as her lips lingered on your cheek.

“Not as much as I did,” she said, leaning back again so she could look at you. She rested her head back against the foot of the bed, looking at you low through her dark lashes.

“No I was going crazy,” you admitted and she let out a spluttering laugh. You smiled for the first time in what felt like forever, gaze lingering on her squinting eyes and the small dimple that appeared on her chin.

“Dude, I was out of my mind. I wouldn’t shut up about you. I literally wrote a fucking song because you were ignoring me,” she confessed.

“No way,” you laughed, delighted at the thought that she would ever like you enough to write a song about you.

“I did,” she affirmed, snickering, moving both of her arms down to rest behind your back, tugging you in again so you sat higher on her lap.

“Will you let me hear it?” you asked, moving your hands down to her neck, finding the soft baby hairs at her nape and brushing your thumbs against the sides.

“I was really in my feels,” she warned.

“That’s okay,” you said and she smiled at you so softly that you felt a swirl of butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“Okay,” she said, biting her lower lip, eyes flashing back down to yours.

“Really?”

“Mhm, you just can’t make fun of me though,” she replied and you let out another soft laugh at the thought.

“I’ve never made fun of you in my entire life,” you said unable to stop your smile and she guffawed at you.

“Still a shit liar I see,” she retorted.

“I’ve never lied either,” you said, grinning and she squeezed your side making you let out a shocked giggle.

“‘No, I’m fine Billie. I’m just tired. Nothing is wrong and I’m not ignoring you’,” she paraphrased, poking fun now at your sorry excuses for avoiding her.

You groaned half in regret, half in embarrassment.

“I mean, it’s not entirely a lie. I was sleeping like shit,” you admitted.

She hummed, eyes seemingly now noticing the darker shadows lurking under your eyes, your makeup long gone from all of your tears.

“I was too,” she said, taking a deep sigh, “How do you think I had time to write a whole song?”

You laughed again and she smiled at you. All of the worry and sadness that had clouded her face for the past few weeks had finally left. She looked like she had her sparkle back and you felt breathless at the thought that it was because of you.

“Would you, um,” your eyes flickered between hers, suddenly nervous, “wanna stay the night?”

She let out an affronted laugh. “Did you think I wanted to leave?”

“I was just checking. I didn’t wanna push you or anything,” you replied, narrowing your eyes at her but unable to quell your smile.

“I know, baby. And I appreciate it,” she cooed, leaning in to kiss your cheek again.

“I like when you call me that,” you confessed, the words leaving your lips before you could even think to stop them.

“Yeah?” Her grin deepened and you nodded, your cheeks warm. She hummed again.

She stared at you for another long moment, eyes scanning your face, her hand reaching up to brush your hair back. Your eyes fluttered shut at the comfort.

“You’ll tell me next time when you’re this upset?” she asked, voice softer now.

You blinked open your eyes. Her worry was seeping back and you felt the guilt pool in your stomach again but you pushed it back, confident in the fact that you couldn’t ignore her again even if you tried.

“I promise.”

She stared at you long and hard. And then she leaned in and pressed another silken kiss to your lips.

“Good because otherwise I’m breaking down your door,” she mumbled against your lips and you couldn’t contain your laugh. And then she pressed in further, kissing away all the guilt and fear that lingered, replacing it with nothing but the touch of her lips.

billie masterlist ✩

[northlt03]

Amortentia (Jegulus)

Regulus didn’t smell. It drove James insane sometimes. 

He didn’t smell after quidditch practice, or even after just waking up. It was another one of those things about him that made him seem “perfect”. James hated it. 

Regulus was so much more than the image he presented himself to be, but he’d gotten too lost in playing the part, maybe that’s all he’d become. 

Every single “imperfection” had been driven away by his mother. Not just for Regulus, but for Sirius as well. The Black family had an image to maintain, high society they had to live in. They couldn’t accept body odor, crooked teeth, or any blemishes on their skin. 

James didn’t know how they did it. But none of the Blacks had any negative body odor. No matter how much they sweat. 

It’s not to say they don’t have a particular smell. According to Slughorn, everyone had a distinct smell, something unique about them. 

Sirius smelled like wet dog fur, James knew this because he slept in the bed next to him and every night Sirius turned to padfoot in his sleep. 

Narcissa smelled like spring, like her namesake— narcissus. Strangely intense, yet cool and floral. James had only placed the smell last year when they had grown the flower in herbology. 

Walburga black smelled like roses, James imagined that’s what the queen of hearts from Alice in Wonderland smelled like. It was suffocating if you had the displeasure to be near her, like a thousand thorny plants squeezing your windpipe. 

James wasn’t padfoot, he didn’t memorize smells. But it’s hard not to notice how his closest friends smell. It made him feel warm, to be surrounded by so many people he loves, all with a distinct smell. 

Remus smelled like chocolate, like wet fur, wooly sweaters, a warm fire and old books. James could tell that’s what Sirius was smelling in his cauldron right then. That’s the reason he was thinking so much about smells in the first place. 

Sixth year brought with it responsibilities, but also more advanced potion making. James always wondered why he didn’t drop potions when he had the chance. 

Sirius was blushing so hard, his skin tone matched the pink potion. James had to stifle his own laughter as Remus tried to go over the recipe once again to make sure they had made it correct. They were all paired up for this particular class. Sirius and Remus at one cauldron and James and Peter next to them. It used to be Sirius and James together, but after one too many pranks in the classroom, Professor Slughorn had separated them. 

“Clockwise!” Remus corrected Sirius just before he could have ruined their potion. They were the second ones to finish their potion so Slughorn was already making his way towards the boys. “Bloody hell, Sirius. Stop overmixing it”

James exchanged a look with Peter. Why had he let Sirius pick Remus while pairing up again? Oh that’s right— Wingman duties

James was nowhere near as great as Lily or Remus or even Snivellus in potion making, but he managed. Mostly he used Remus’ notes and applied common sense. It drove Remus insane sometimes, how much work he’d have to put in to memorize something, only for James to make an educated guess about it. James couldn’t really explain how he knew stuff, he just did. Call it pattern awareness, or whatever. 

“So from the way Moony was yelling at Padfoot, I’m guessing we have to stir it clockwise?” James raised an eyebrow.

Peter only snickered as he watched their other two friends bickering like an old married couple. “What’d you think Moony smells, James?”

“Wet dog” James replied easily, “And that awful old leather jacket Padfoot refuses to throw away,”

“I bet Sirius smells chocolate and wool” 

James had known Peter for years, they'd had baths together when they were babies, learned how to ride a bicycle from James’ father, spent ten christmases trying to make gingerbread houses and so many more memories. 

That’s all to say, James knew what Peter smelled like. He had a distinct cologne he swore worked wonders on the ladies, and as stereotypical as it was for the rat to love cheese, he really did. 

So if James was in love with his best mate, that’s what he would have smelled. 

But instead when he dared to take a whiff of the potion (after coughing violently because it was pretty strong), all he smelled was broom wax, old books and paint. 

“Mmmhmm” Peter grinned, “Camembert, and candy. Smells so great I’m hungry now. And you?”

“Old books” He frowned, “And paint”

“Careful, Pads might think you’re in love with Moony too”

James wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He was glad he didn’t smell lilies, relating to his old embarrassing crush. It had been months since he had obsessed over Lily Evans and even thinking about that time made him cringe. 

James had quickly realized he had no idea what love was supposed to be. He grew up watching his parents so immensely in love he’d been in love with the idea of love and the idea of Lily Evans. And ideas are dangerous things to be in love with. 

For his sake and Lily’s, he was glad he stopped liking her. 

But after Lily… well, there had been someone James had grown a liking too. And he couldn’t help the disappointment when he didn’t smell Regulus in the potion. He took a few more whiffs, just to be sure. But to no avail. The potion still smelled the same. 

James wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much. Maybe he was just incapable of loving. Because he couldn’t smell Regulus, that had to mean he wasn’t in love with the boy as he had previously thought. This was clearly a Lily situation again. And that bothered James. Mainly because he wanted to be in love. Not just because of his fantasy of being so in love with someone, but also because Regulus was so lovely. 

He was witty and sharp, beautiful and sarcastic, knowledgeable and petty, headstrong and stubborn but also sweet and funny. He seemed to positively glow under James’ praise. James loved it when he flushed pink, James loved it when he shot back a retort, when he smiled a secret smile for only James, when he dragged his long fingers over James’ skin— touch for the sake of touch. James loved every single thing about Regulus, the way his eyes crinkled when he tried to stop himself from laughing at one of James’ bad jokes, the way he sneezed, the way his lips parted, the way he tasted so sweet when they kissed, but most of all, James thought he was in love with Regulus.

He wasn’t sure what smell he was searching for. He knew Regulus didn’t smell. He didn’t have a signature smell like Peter’s cologne. But James was still disappointed. 

He wanted to make Regulus feel loved, he wanted to be in love. He had said it once and Regulus had said it before. 

Three simple words. 

And what if they were a lie?

A knock on the door made Slughorn change directions. He had been heading toward James and Peter’s potion to check it, but he walked toward the open door. 

James would have recognised those curls anywhere. 

Even before Regulus was fully visible, stepping into the doorway, eyes searching the class, James was grinning. Who cared what the stupid potion said? The potion could be wrong. Maybe James and Peter brewed it wrong. 

All that mattered was that Regulus lit up James’ world, it genuinely felt that way. Just passing him in the hallways, getting to stare at him as he stared at the stars, just listening to him talk about astronomy or his favorite paintings felt like a reward to James.

So yeah, fuck the potion. 

James Potter was in love with Regulus Black.

That’s when he spotted the paint splattered on the edges of his otherwise neat robe. He was handing a book he must have borrowed back to Slughorn. His eyes landed on James and though he tried to keep his composure in thanking the professor, James grew ecstatic at the acknowledgement.

The effect Regulus had on him really had to be studied. 

Just before he left, he sniffed the room, his eyebrows furrowing in that Regulus Black way as he mock glared at James. He had the face of an aristocrat but the mind of an artist. Maybe he was both.

James was thankful his table was the closest to the door and the others were too busy either bickering, fawning over their potion or still completing it. 

“You smell, Potter” Regulus scrunched his nose in disgust, turning to walk away, “Didn’t you shower after quidditch? It’s disgusting, it’s a wonder the whole room isn’t gagging with how strong it is, even your sandalwood perfume can’t mask it.”

James could barely say anything before Regulus had walked away. 

Paint splatter, the old books in the room of requirement and Regulus’ personal collection, the broom wax from when James had watched him polish his broom before a match against Hufflepuff. 

Slowly the pieces floated together and James thought he had started floating too. He felt light, like a floating lantern, a ball of warmth in his chest. 

And what had Regulus been talking about? James twisted his ankle his last game. Madam Pomfrey hadn’t cleared him to fly the whole week, he had been moping about not being able to play. 

When he looked at Peter, his friend was looking back with an amused look. 

“Fucking hell, Prongs”

“Don’t tell Padfoot”

[cordspaghetti]

embarrassingly long post incoming but i have a quastion. can anyone who knows stuff about tailoring/clothing design speak on gerard’s suit jackets from the last leg of the mcr tour because i know in an interview marina toybina said she was really particular about those outfits and i feel like there is some cool & kind of unusual work there but i am So uneducated.

like they obvs have lots of waist suppression for thee lovely hourglass silhouette but another thing i noticed is that i feel like both men’s & women’s suit jackets are meant to lay as flat as possible across the chest as a sign of a Good Fit and these tend to not do that. they have the top half of what i saw one random website call “the dreaded X” creases that form around the button when the fit is too tight, but they don’t actually seem to be too tight because the lapels don’t pull way to the sides with arm movement like you’d see for even a good fit (i think…?)

it looks like the button has a kind of medium to low position with the waist taken in far enough that it has to ride up higher than usual to close (or at least rides up super easily, idk, this is my Guess), creating an excess of fabric around the lapels that either folds over or sticks out forwards

and it does this without deforming the shoulders/collar & also while keeping the lower front panels nice and flat—there’s extra fabric in the one area, but everywhere else the structure of the jacket is maintained. which is alllll to say this seems to me like a kind of subtle, “natural” way to add volume to a flat chest without using methods that would be read as drag or otherwise costume-y within the context of a stage performance, like padded undergarments or smth like that.

soo i am wondering if any of you think this is at all a plausible explanation for how the jackets are designed to fit and the illusion they’re meant to create or if it’s probably unintentional slash just a side effect of the jackets being manipulated by arm movements etc.. or if it is in fact possible but being achieved a different way, like with the darts. or if i’m just pointing out the obvious ?! maybe this is just how women’s suit jackets fit & move?

either way… wow what lovely work thank you marina toybina for Everything

(first two pics are by justinmaphoto and then gavin lloyd(?), last pic is by david watson, the others i’m not sure abt im so so sorry they’re from the dregs of my camera roll)

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Pillow Talks

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader

Summary: Your master has sent you on a mission and Qimir, your supplier and guide, is accompanying you.

Qimir Masterlist

Your Master has tasked you with the mission of finding and killing a former Jedi that had previously wronged him. Per usual, he also assigned Qimir to be your guide and supplier, should you need him.

Although you were perfectly capable of doing things on your own, you had to admit it was nice to have company. For a long time, it had always just been you and your Master. Then when you were finally ready for your first mission, Qimir was assigned to you.

At first, you were annoyed, but then grew fond of the man. Sure, he can be a bumbling, fumbling idiot, but he’s also very knowledgeable, skilled, and can hold his own.

However, this particular mission, you’ve grown somewhat annoyed with him. Your search for the former Jedi led you to jungle planet of Eriaduan. The weather is hot and humid, causing you to sweat and feel sticky. It’s dampened your mood and motivation to fulfill this mission.

Doesn’t help that Qimir is being extra chatty as you trek through the jungle, “Can I ask you a question?” Some of his black strands of hair stick to his face due to sweat and humidity.

You sigh, “As long as you’re okay with possibly not getting an answer.” You reply as you step over branches and through shrubs.

“Why are you so adamant that your Master doesn’t care for you?”

Earlier, you tripped on a boulder and Qimir told you that you need to be more careful, “Your Master wouldn’t be happy with me if I brought you back injured.”

You had scoffed and told him, “Please, my Master doesn’t care about me, Qimir. Only cares about my ability to fulfill these missions.”

You shrug, “Because he doesn’t.”

“How do you know?” He asks with furrowed brows.

“The way he’s treated me isn’t how people treat those they care about, Qimir. He’s very…forceful. He never gives me a break, asks how I’m feeling. Honestly, it’s foolish of me to even want him to care about me, even just a little.” You pause at a fallen tree trunk and decide to sit for a little rest.

Qimir follows, sitting beside you, “It’s not foolish to want to be cared for. Besides, he always sends me to go with you. Surely, that must mean he cares for you right? Wants someone to have your back?”

You snort, “Or because he doesn’t trust me to do these things on my own.”

Qimir sighs and shakes his head, “I’m sure he knows you’re capable of doing this on your own. But…maybe he just wants you to have back up just to ease his mind?”

You shrug, “Guess we’ll never know because he doesn’t really talk to me unless he’s assigning me a new mission or berating me about not improving my skills.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I do care about you. Knowing you has brought some…excitement back into my life.”

You give him a grateful grin, “Thanks, Qi. I care about you too.” You two sit in a comfortable silence, catching your breaths and taking pause to finding this Jedi.

_______________

This definitely wasn’t how you expected things to go. You’d gotten injured during your fight with the Jedi. You were still able to kill him but not before get stabbed you in the side.

Qimir was freaking out, trying his best to keep you from bleeding out too much but you eventually succumbed to the pain, blacking out as Qimir pleaded with you to hold on.

When you finally wake up, you’re groggy. Your hand goes to your wound and you feel a bacta patch on it.

“You’re awake,” you hear the modulated voice of your Master.

You turn your head to see your Master standing at the end of your bed roll.

You try to sit up but you hiss in pain, “Don’t move. Lay still.” He approaches your side and kneels, he pulls back the bacta patch, “It needs to be changed.”

He grabs a new patch from the small pile beside your bed. Has he been taking care of you while you were out? Surely not, right? Had to be someone else. Maybe Qimir?

“Where’s Qimir?” You ask and your Master stills.

“I sent him away after he brought you here.”

“I hope you didn’t threaten or hurt him," you give your Master a threatening glare.

He questioningly tilts his head to you , “Why?”

“Because he’s my friend and I care about him.”

He stays silent for a few seconds before stating, “He left unscathed.”

“Good.”

Your Master cleans your wound and dresses it with a new bacta patch. It was weird, having him care for you in such a way. Usually when you got hurt or injured, you took care of yourself.

“You need to be more careful," he practically whispers.

“The former Jedi was a lot more skilled than I anticipated, but I fulfilled my mission.” The sentence comes off as factual, unfeeling.

“You got hurt.”

“It’s nothing new,” you say nonchalantly with a little shrug.

Your Master’s clenches his fists, “You need to be more careful,” he repeats.

"I'm fine. I'll do better. I know I'm not useful to you when I'm hurt."

"That's not why I want you to be careful," he says before standing and exiting the hut you made as your home on the secluded island.

_______________________

On your next mission, your Master has sent you to go undercover as a merchant on the planet of Batuu. Qimir, per usual, will be aiding you on the mission. You meet him at a cantina where an RX pilot droid was reprogrammed to play music throughout the place.

It seems like Qimir had been waiting for you a long time since his body was swaying, seemingly five drinks in already.

You sit on the stool beside him, causing him to turn to you and he gives you a drunken smile, "Heeeey! You're here!" he hiccups a bit and you can't help but chuckle, "How're you already this drunk?"

He shrugs, "Had to do something while I waited for you." He offers his cup to you and you push it back towards him, "I'm good," you say.

He shrugs again and downs the rest of the drink, "So, what's the plan?" A strand of his hair falls onto his face.

You giggle, moving the strand away, "I don't think we should discuss plans while you're in this state," your fingers linger on his face. Suddenly realizing what you did, you pull your hand away and clear your throat, "Um, we should discuss plans tomorrow while you're sober. So, drink some water and I'll meet you in the morning," you stand to leave but Qimir stops you.

"Wait, wait. Can I stay with you?" You look at him confused and he continues, "I, uh, lost my ship so I had to hitch a ride here. Don't have much credits left."

You give him a cocked brow and a hand on your hip, "And how did you expect to pay for your bar tab?"

He gives you a sheepish look, "I was kinda hoping you'd pay for it?"

You sigh, pulling out enough to pay for Qimir's drinks. The bartender thanks you and you have Qimir follow you out of the cantina.

"You're lucky I like you," you murmur, a hint of a smirk on your lips.

Qimir gulps and nods, "Yeah...lucky."

You two make it to the dingy hotel where you plan to stay for the next few days. As soon as Qimir enters, he plops onto your bed with a content sigh. Looking at him and then the room, you now realize that there's only one bed, which means you have to share.

It'll be fine. You can be professional about this situation.

You clear your throat, grabbing Qimir's attention, "So there's only one bed-"

Qimir immediately sits up, "I can sleep on the floor-"

"It's fine, Qi. We can be mature adults about this. We're not strangers or anything."

He gives you nonchalant shrug, "If you're sure."

You nod and head to the refresher to change. When you come back out, Qimir is already under the covers, having shed some of his outer robes.

You can't help the snort you let out when you see how close to the edge of the bed he is.

You slip under the covers, "Qimir, you're hanging off the edge, come closer. It's fine."

"I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or-"

You use the Force to pull him closer.

He rolls over to face you, "Uncalled for."

You roll onto your side to face him, "You were being stubborn."

You two stare at each other, letting some moments of silence pass. The air shifts but you're not sure if it's just you that feels so. You feel a pull, a need to lean in and press your lips to Qimir. You've always found him attractive, but have pushed those thoughts down because you know you can't have him. Your priority is your training and your loyalty is first and foremost to your Master. Before you do anything drastic, you sigh, rolling over to face away, "Good night, Qimir."

"Good night," he murmurs. You hear the rustle of the sheets as he gets comfortable.

You close your eyes, trying to push away the feelings that began to bubble up in your chest and stomach.

"Do you still think your Master doesn't care for you?"

Your eyes shoot open and you immediately roll over, "Qimir...what?"

He sighs and rolls back over to face you, "Do you still think that your Master doesn't care about you?"

You shrug, "Kinda."

"Kinda?" he looks at you with creased brows and a frown.

You shrug and move your attention to a loose thread on the pillow Qimir lays on, "After the last mission, he said he immediately sent you away?"

"...yes."

You turn to lay on your back and look at the ceiling, "I guess the entire time I was out, he was taking care of me. When I woke up, he changed my bacta patch. He told me I had to be more careful." You pause to recollect more of that day, "I figured this was all because I wouldn't be useful to him, but then he said that wasn't why."

"So he does care," Qimir simply states

"I'm still apprehensive about saying that with certainty, but the small gesture appears that way."

You glance at Qimir as he moves to mimic your position, "And how does that make you feel?"

You run your hands down your face and you give a deep breath, "It's nice to be cared for and to care for someone. But...it's scary. Doing the things we do, you never know when someone can take that away from you. Or if that someone takes advantage of that care and betrays you."

You suddenly feel Qimir's hand take hold of yours, "I understand," he murmurs, "Your Master is still a person too. Maybe he struggles with the idea of caring for someone because it's been so long since he's done so."

"Maybe," you reply, not pulling your hand from Qimir's. It felt nice, having his hand in yours.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"...can I hold you?"

You turn your head, looking at Qimir, you can see he's slightly embarrassed, but he's also being vulnerable...and you're feeling a little vulnerable too.

"Okay," you whisper and you move closer as Qimir wraps an arm around you, holding you close to him.

You let out a shaky breath. It's been so long since you've been held like this, cared for in such a gentle way. It's a complete opposite of how you've spent your time training under your Master.

You hope you can have more moments like these with Qimir.

Your body feels more at ease the more time you spend in his arms. Your eyes slowly flutter close and you're off to a restful sleep.

Meanwhile, Qimir remains awake a little bit longer. He stares at you, his apprentice, his acolyte.

"I'll do better," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head and pulling you closer to him as he listens to your breathing, leading him to sleep.

[buuniebaby]

your first time with hamzah 🙈🙈

THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING. 🎀

includes: losing your virginity, awkward sex talk, very sweet sex ! 💝

word count 3.2k purr

you’re too tired for this.

you and hamzah are becoming sleep deprived, something you usually do together: come over to each others houses, watch a movie, eat food your stomach will regret in the morning. it’s been a tradition since you guys were just friends.

even now as you’re dating, it still feels.. the same. not that you’re complaining; you love having a partner who’s also a best friend to you. it just feels like there should be some sort of change, but you can’t put your finger on it.

it’s 2 in the morning now. you and hamzah have watched about 3 shitty 2000s movies, enjoying every moment of each one. your brain feels absolutely fried, and you can only imagine his is as well.

“are you a virgin?” hamzah spoke suddenly, but also casually. a little too casually. you choke on your own spit at that, face turning red with embarrassment.

“…what?” is all you can reply back. “what- why?” you say, eyebrows furrowing at him. your voice has noticeably pitched up.

“i dunno. just tell me.” hamzah says, rolling his eyes. you hate how confident and sassy he is, but you’re also sort of attracted to it.

“you’re so weird.” you practically squeal, jokingly. you grab onto a pillow as you fall back first onto the bed. “why do you even wanna know? that’s so like, random.” you ask, more genuine this time.

“i guess,” hamzah starts, but then pauses, almost as if he doesn’t know the answer himself.

“i was just kinda thinking. like, we don’t really talk about sex, ever. and we don’t have to- I don’t wanna bring it up if you’re uncomfortable. I’m just like, curious if you’d be down to talk about it.” he rambles, making up his words as he goes. you furrow your brows as he speaks, still kind of confused. you know there had to be something that started it, you just aren’t sure what.

“oh. well like,” you flush, sort of embarrassed to admit what you’re about to say. “yeah, i am.”

“a virgin?” hamzah asks, head tilting like a lost puppy.

“yes, idiot. what else would i be talking about?” you reply back sarcastically.

“you’re right, you’re right,” he banters with you. “I just- I guess I’m surprised.”

you perk back up, sitting yourself upright again.

“surprised.. that im a virgin?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“i guess.. i dunno. I just feel like you’re like, too pretty to not have found someone who wants you like that.” he rambles. you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks again, knowing he’ll always praise you for your pretty face.

“i mean, I’ve found a lot of people who want me,” you say, rolling your eyes at the thought of a particular ex. “I’m just like, picky, I guess.” your giggling as hamzah somewhat laughs with you, but you watch as his facial expression starts to falter. you know something’s on his mind.

“do you want to?” is all he mutters. again, he keeps this quiet, casual tone that you rarely see with him.

“i mean, yeah, kinda. I just like, don’t know where to start I guess.” you answer honestly. “feels like everyone’s way more experienced than i am anyways.” hamzah turns over to you, looking in the eye. you feel him think for a second, as if he doesn’t know whether he should let his thoughts out or not.

“well, I don’t really have experience either.” he mutters back, scoping for a negative reaction from you. your eyes widen a bit, and he doesn’t know if he should take your body language negatively or positively.

“you’re a virgin too?” you ask, a more shy tone than usual.

“..yeah. well I’ve done like- stuff. just like, never had sex. never had my penis like, in there, y’know-“

“you don’t need to go into detail.” is all you have to say, talking over him.

“-but i would go all the way with you.”

that’s all you remember from that night before blacking out, yet somehow the short memory haunts your mind. it’s eating you up inside, the thought of losing your virginity after so long to him.

you’ve seen all the edits and thirst traps of him online and can admit that they’ve made you feel some type of way about him - hell, you’ve touched yourself to the idea of your boyfriend too. yet for some reason, the thought of actually having sex with him was never really a priority to you. it’s not until now you’ve understood people’s cravings for sex, but god can you feel it now.

you’re making breakfast the next morning while his hands are around your waist and all you can think of is that conversation. when you help him with editing throughout the day, leaning over his shoulder, all you can think about is him having you bent over like that in a different context. you feel like you’re in a haze almost, clouded by the thought of hamzah.

“baby?” hamzah asks, waving a hand in front of your face in an attempt to get your attention. you perk up and face him, slightly embarrassed for spacing out.

“i was just gonna ask if you wanted me to order something for lunch.” he says casually, but his face begins to fade into an expression between concerned and confused. “you okay?”

“what?!” you reply, scrambling at bit as you didn’t think he would pick up on your behavior. “im fine. what do you mean??” you question; rapidly.

“you’ve just been like, really spaced out today. i get like that, where i like dissociate sometimes when something reallyyy bad happens. so i just wanted to make sure.” he rambles a bit, genuine concern in your eyes. despite the horniness driving your body right now, you do feel a bit warmed by the way he cares for you.

“you can always talk to me if something’s up, y’know-“

“did you mean it?” you ask, staring at him blankly.

“mean… what?” he stares back at you, looking at you like you just killed a man in front of him.

“what you said last night. that you’d like- y’know..” you look down shyly, hiding in your hair as a warm blush creeps onto your face.

“that I would..?” hamzah looks at you, genuinely clueless.

“lose it to me hamzah. have sex with me. loose your virginity.” you look up at him, speaking sternly. you’re a little too pent up to take his stupidity today.

you watch as his expression changes, going from confused to something you can’t even put a name on. a mix of shocked, embarrassed, amused - but most prominently, you watch that urge crawl up into his body. you can tell in his eyes that he wants you in the same way you crave him.

“yeah.” he says, breathy. “i want that. like, now though? or like later, what are we doing-“

his words are cut off as your lips land on his. he gasps into the kiss, caught by surprise. you try and swipe your tongue against his slightly parted lips, but he pulls away before you can get it anywhere significant.

you look at him concerned after he pulls away, taking a second to breathe.

“have you like- kissed anyone before?” he asks, and you can tell he’s serious. you giggle a little.

“yes, ive kissed before.” you say, a little smile still formed on your face. “buuut..” you drag on your words to edge him on a bit.

“ive only made out with someone once, and i can already tell you’re the better kisser.” you say, slyly. he likes it when you boost his ego like this - he’s already proud of himself for pulling you, so you make him feel like some sort of greek god.

he smirks before he pulls you into another kiss, this time pressing his lips to yours a lot firmer. it’s more intense this time around, a hand cupping the side of your face, holding you in place for him as his tongue glides inside your mouth.

you kiss until you physically can’t anymore, pulling back when you need a break for air. there’s an awkward silence before he kisses you again, putting his hands on your waist sometimes. you’re taken aback a bit as he lifts you in the air.

your immediate reaction is to hook your legs onto something, hamzah just being the nearest option, of course. your legs wrap around him, straddling his hips. you arms are grabbing onto his shoulders gently. he’s strong enough to hold you without support, but you like the physical aspect of clinging onto him like a koala.

he reaches the room, fumbling with the doorknob as he struggles to lift you at the same time. he kicks the door closed softly behind him when he eventually gets in there. he drops you in the middle of the bed, body landing gracefully.

you sit yourself up into a more comfortable position, and hamzah sits himself right next to you. it’s here when you realize how comfortable you are around him, even if you’re about to reach a life milestone you can never take back with him.

but fuck, you’re never gonna be able to take this back. the anxiety crawls back up into your brain for a second, but the feeling of hamzah’s hand on your thigh relaxes you. a single look into his eyes and you’re already reassuring yourself again. you’re not gonna want to take this back, because god, you love this boy.

“have you ever-“ hamzah pauses mid sentence, stuttering. he does this when he doesn’t know what words to use; it’s one of his mannerisms that you’ve picked up a little yourself over time. “like, felt anyone up? or like- dry hump them, I guess.” he says. you feel him cringe a bit at his own words - he gets embarrassed easily.

“not really,” you say. a smirk creeps onto your face as you have an idea. “but you could show me how.”

hamzah’s eyes widen a bit as his hand moves from your thigh to your waist. he picks you up again like it’s nothing, sitting you down on his lap. his hands massage your waist, moving up briefly past your chest. he runs at your collarbone for a minute, staring at your clothed breasts.

“can i take this off?” he asks in a low voice, toying with the fabric at your shoulders. you bite your lip as you give him a nod, and before you know it whatever garment was covering you before is gone.

“fuckkk,” is all hamzah lets out before a hand is cupping your chest, squeezing at your soft and fleshy skin. instinctively, you push your chest into his hands. you let out a soft noise as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

he’s fully hard now, and you can feel it straining against you. you can tell he’s trying to keep his hips still, not wanting to get worked up too fast.

his hands leave one side of your chest as his mouth attaches to your other nipple. you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him suckling at it. he pulls of for a second, and you can feel his hands fumbling with the fabric of your bottoms for a second.

“take this off for me?” he pleads in a sweet tone, and you can tell he’s starting to get needy. you comply, of course, leaving you in just your underwear. you don’t want to be the only one undressed though, so you shimmy his pants down a bit and get his shirt off too.

you’re left in both just underwear - a weird feeling. there’s not a lot of fabric separating your crotch and hamzah’s, so when he bucks his hips up into yours it feels good. he ducks down to kiss you again, chest pressing to yours, and god, you feel like you’re in heaven. there’s heat burning through your body as your bare skin touched his.

his hands are on your hips as you grind against him, the thin material of his boxers straining against his cock. he reaches down to rub you through your underwear, eliciting a moan as you hide his head in your shoulder.

he stops your grinding for a second, a hand trailing up your thigh. he uses it to spread your legs wide, causing you to make a small noise. he pulls your panties to the side, showing off what he’s wanted all this time.

he’s already settling lower, head balance with your hips, and now you’re nervous. it’s your first time being touched like this - probably his too, and it’s scary. you close your eyes when you feel him plant a kiss on your hip, teasing you. he continues to kiss around, even guiding a hand back up to play with your chest, but it’s not enough.

“please,” you whimper, begging for more stimulation. hamzah takes it as a sign you’re ready, and before you know it, you’re squirming again.

he presses just a single finger inside you, scoping how much you’re able to take. your stomach flips as you feel him spread you open. he adds another finger once the first one is in knuckle deep, then begins to curl them inside of you. you whimper at the feeling as his fingers excel in speed, working you open.

“hamzah- fuck.” you whine, letting out an especially sharp gasp at the feeling of his fingers hitting that spot.

“yeah?” he asks, playfully, curling his fingers to hit the same spot. your pelvis thrusts up at the movement, only motivating him to go further. his hands are so fucking big and he’s so strong when he thrusts his fingers up into you. it burns in the best way possible.

“ah- hamzah!” you squeal, squirming around. you whine when you feel him pull away from him; you were so, so close to finishing. you look up at him and whimper, a sad expression plastered across your face.

“didn’t want you to cum yet,” hamzah mutters under his breath. “not done with you.”

you flush red, his words washing over your body in a hot wave. suddenly hamzah is moving, pulling down his boxers, and god his dick is big. you can’t help but whine at how badly you want it inside you.

“so noisy.” he mumbles, lining his cock up with your folds and sliding the tip between them. you only whine more at his teasing.

“hamzahh,” you complain, eager for him to stop teasing you and just put it in.

“mhm?” he replies, edging you on. he strokes himself a bit, acts as if he’s going to put it in, but then doesn’t. he knows what he’s doing and you hate it. “need something, baby?”

he’s so mean, making you beg.

“I need it so bad, hamzah, pleeasee-“ you beg, desperate. you don’t care how humiliating it is now, you need him.

“need what, baby?” he asks, obviously only to get a reaction out of you. you sigh, but you know what you need to do.

“fuck me, hamzah. i need you - your cock.” you beg, no - demand, firmly.

hamzah doesn’t stall once he’s gotten what he wants. he’s done with the teasing, pressing his tip into you. you let out a shaky moan - it hurts a little when he slides in, like ripping off a bandaid.

“hamzah- hurts.” is all the words you can get out. his hips still inside of you, waiting for you to take a breath before he continues.

“it’s okay baby. gonna feel better once I’m all the way in.” he mutters, caressing your cheek with the hand that isn’t holding him up. he wasn’t lying - it’s painful as he slides himself into you, stretching you out, but once your hip-to-hip with him there’s a comfortable peace to the feeling.

you two lay in that position for a minute, feeling the warmth of connection between your bodies. it’s a soft, loving touch - you feel safe in his arms.

“s’okay if i move now?” he whispers to you, keeping a gentle tone. at the end of the day, he’s here to take care of you.

“yeah. thank you.” you say, genuinely grateful for his patience. you remind yourself that it’s his first time doing this too; you’re not alone in your anxiety.

you clutch onto his shoulders as he nearly pulls out, cock sliding out of you to the tip, then slams back into you.

“h-hamzah!” you whimper, clawing your nails at his back. he keeps a similar pace, thrusting into you deep. even hamzah makes a small noise at the feeling of being inside you, hips stuttering against yours. the sound of skin slapping together and breathy moans fills the room.

you wrap your arms and legs around hamzah as he continues to thrust into you, clinging to him.

“so pretty.” he says, looking down at you. “there’s a reason- fuck- i wanted to fuck you in missionary. pretty face.” he stutters, moving a hand to caress your face. you can’t say anything else but whimper at him, overstimulated from a combination of his thrusts and his words.

you feel a tight feeling build in your stomach, almost like a coil nearing its breaking point. you clench around him, legs beginning to shake.

“aah- hamzah! fuck-“ you practically scream, rolling your hips up into his one last time before you orgasm. he just stares at you, slowing the roll of his own hips, in awe.

you notice as his pace slows after you catch your breath, looking up at him almost disappointed.

“what’re you doing?” you mumble, voice worn out.

“you finished, i don’t wanna-“ he begins to ramble, but you cut him off.

“keep going.” you say firmly.

“huh?”

“want you to cum too.” you say, voice still soft and tired. you roll your hips up into him, still sensitive. he nods, pushing back into you.

he continues to thrust into you rougher and rougher until his hips are slapping against yours with every thrust. every little noise you make turns him on more, until finally, he forces himself to pull out of you.

he strokes himself on top of you, a string of cum landing on your stomach. he’s panting as he finishes all over you, painting your stomach white. you smile at the scene, enjoying the was he’s made you his little art piece.

he collapses next to you, laying on his back, catching his breath.

“glad i waited.” you mumble. he turns over to you, looking into your eyes.

“waited for what?” he asks, tiredly tilting his head.

“like, to have sex. m’glad I waited until you.” you mumble, tiredness apparent in your voice. hamzah thinks his heart melts a little at your words.

he grabs a tissue off of his bedside table and wipes the cum off of you so that he can pull you into his arms, dragging the covers over your body.

“i’m glad i waited for you too.”

[seungkw1]

sketchbook — xmh

♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none

“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”

you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.

“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.

“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”

“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”

“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.

“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.

“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”

he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.

“wait! i like this one.”

you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.

“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”

minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”

“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”

“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”

you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”

“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”

“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”

you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”

you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.

“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”

“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 

“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”

“well, what do you want to improve the most?”

you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”

“sure, why not?”

“because that’s weird!”

“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”

“you?? right now?”

“yeah.”

you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 

you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”

minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 

you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 

you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 

you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.

as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.

“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you hate it.”

minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”

“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”

he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”

you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 

“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.

“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”

he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.

“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”

“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”

“you’re the best.”

“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 

another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.

—

you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 

you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.

delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.

“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.

you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 

“nothing, just…”

he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.

“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”

“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.

“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”

“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 

minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 

you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 

you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 

just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 

but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 

you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 

“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 

“i…” 

you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.

you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”

he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”

minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 

“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 

“y/n…”

you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 

he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 

your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.

“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”

“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”

you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 

“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 

“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”

he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”

he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 

—

“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 

you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.

“starving, actually,” he admits.

“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”

he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”

“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 

you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.

“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.

you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.

“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.

“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.

he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”

“um… i-”

“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”

“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.

his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 

“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 

“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”

your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 

“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 

suddenly, he kisses you. 

he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 

electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 

and it's all for you. 

a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 

“hao…” you start.

he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 

“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 

“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 

you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 

“and why didn't you tell me?”

he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”

you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 

finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back.