#they look so happy <3 it makes my heart melt

[we-dont-talk-about-potato-nonono]

Beautiful art drawn by @usernamesarehardtocreateman ! (with permission to post) thank you for drawing my two ocs couple 🥰 I really love it and truly grateful !! love the background too!

[avastyetwats]

The way Stede looks at Izzy when he comes out dressed and singing is everything to me.

[rockpaperscissuhs]

BAND OF BROTHERS: EPISODE ONE + my favorite closeup shots

[windrider01]

♚ Commission Info ♚

~ How to get your husband to go to bed ~

[sysig]

Red Eyes and Evil Time, practically the same thing right (Patreon)

[chuluoyi]

Baby gojo and daddy gojo not wanting to share mama gojo😭✋i-

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 06:20 P.M 」

aww this is so cute of course this is the first i worked on after getting back from my weekend break <3 and actually i have this one similar ask too so i combined yours with theirs! here's some cute blinking gojo in phantom parade and okay now let us have some crack and make gojo suffer

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“bwah!” a nudge.

“myah!” a shove.

and then—

“waaa!” a… slap (?) on the cheek.

“huh?” satoru winced, touching where the baby’s palm just connected with his face, blinking rapidly. so he wasn’t imagining things. this really was happening in front of his eyes.

and it was the baby—his baby.

your giggles filled the air in response.

“hey, you,” satoru took on a very stern look and an exaggerated frown, glaring at his own son. the baby merely babbled at him innocently, blinking his wide crystal blue eyes that mirrored his. “bad, bad minion. this is a very serious issue. you shouldn’t do that, you hear?”

the serious issue being each time he tried to lean closer to steal a kiss from you, your son always found a way to repel him away with his tiny hands.

you snorted at his righteous tone. “he’s just protecting me. even your kid knows you’re a danger.”

a gasp left your husband’s shiny lips, mockingly in disbelief. “me? a danger? i make your life a heaven on earth!”

“heav—pfft—”

“i give you love, food, my body—” he emphasized, pointing at himself for a dramatic effect, and you threw your head back, dissolving into a fit of laughter even more, “—heck, i even give you this naughty baby!”

“wha—no! that’s team effort!”

“still! and now he is staging an uprising against me?” satoru cheekily eyed his child, who was now clutching the fabric of your blouse, tiny fingers playing with the shiny diamonds of your necklace—a gift from satoru too, actually.

“look at him go,” he grumbled, his eyes following each little movement his son made, then dramatically yelped when the boy pawed at your breasts. “hey! no touching! those are mine!”

“please.” you almost choked on your laugh. your silly husband always had a way to make things sound funnier than they actually were, and that was what made you fall in love with him more each day, really. “the milk is his!”

“he can have the cow’s! and more importantly, it’s thanks to me that you’re so milky—”

“satoru! you’re so uncouth i can’t—!”

“see? you’re laughing so much! this proves enough that i make you happy every day!”

later that night, after you put your baby to sleep in his crib, satoru gently poked his cheek, his expression tender despite his pursed lips. “he is out like a light…”

satoru might whine a lot, but ultimately, you couldn’t miss the look of adoration and fondness that made him the father of your child. even without saying it out loud, you knew that he would willingly put everything aside and sacrifice anything—first of all, himself—if it was meant for his dearest, most precious treasure.

knowing he'd do the same for you only served to melt your heart even more. and you felt full—so full, in fact, with warmth and love and anything that was soft.

you really do love him, don’t you?

“look at him, he’s like a shrimp,” your husband pointed out, still gazing at his baby in wonder as he kept poking and prodding at the chonky rolls of his little arms, and you thought, nothing could have been more precious than this.

“satoru.”

“yeah?” he turned instantly at the sound of his name, but before he could react further—

you stood on your tiptoes and planted a swift smooch on his cheek, putting the overflowing love you held for him in it. “mwah!”

“…?!”

for the next three seconds, satoru malfunctioned. the brush of your sweet lips on his cheek was so innocent that he was rendered speechless. heat steadily gathered on his face, turning him pink despite himself.

“you…” he groaned, collecting himself, a dopey smile was quickly plastered on his face to cover up his setback as you burst into hearty laughter. “now you’ve started it…” and then he latched on you with a glint of a joker, launching a full-blown tickle attack.

“a—ah! why?! satoru! ahahahaha!”

. . .

safe to say, your wheezes effectively awoke your son from his slumber, and as a bit of payback, you left satoru in the dust to deal with the crying baby, both of them whimpering in unison since he had absolutely no clue how to comfort the little one.

[7kh]

༉ how greedy she is.

cw — wlw. fem!reader. riding (r!receiving). belly bulge. praise. slight praise kink if you squint a little… vi being a little greedy freak /aff. (i managed to push this out b4 her bday ended!! happy birthday, violet <3.)

giving in to your temptations of sitting on vi’s lap has gotten you to a… very salacious position.

it started off simple—‘innocent’. you sat on her lap as your arms wrapped around her neck, resting on her shoulder cuddling while she read some book. you should’ve known you were in trouble the minute she put it down without saying nothing. it started with not-so-subtle rubs and caresses on your waist and stomach. then her greedy hands went down to your thighs and squeezed the supple flesh, her brain going numb by the way it pillowed on her fingers. then her hips bucked into yours, earning her a small gasp from you. it didn’t take you two long at all to start full on fucking.

you moaned into her mouth, feeling all of your intelligence and common sense being thrown away as you felt her hands guiding your hips to fuck you stupid. you didn’t even need to do anything. a part of you felt bad, that she was doing all of the work and you were just… passive. but any protests melted away in your mind because she was just fucking you so good.

you babbled nonsense into her ear, lips trembling as her cock kissed all of the right places, places vi knew would make you spill more of your rich essence on her dick and her lap. her hips craned into yours, a throaty sound coming from you as a bulge peaked through your tummy. “look at that..” she cooed, making you pulse on her cock.

“violet— fuck, vi,” your vision went blurry, ears blocking out everything but her voice. that damned stupid, beautiful voice. so gentle yet firm and assertive when she has to be. she leaned over to give you searing hot kisses on your neck, appreciating the way your throat moved to let out a string of expletives caused by a very calculated move of her hips. the way she doesn’t have to do much with her muscular frame yet could still make you a broken, wet, and whiney mess turned the both of you on immensely.

“it’s okay, i got you. so beautiful, so fuckin’ good f’me…” tears threatened to spill from her praise. your pretty moans prodded her more, long, deep strokes pushing you further and further to the edge. “mmnnfuckkk, vi! gonna make me cum, gonna, gonna—“ vi didn’t say anything else, just letting you surrender to her as you came impossibly hard. you sobbed on her shoulder, heart feeling like it was beating out of your chest as you sat on her cock, squirming a little at the feeling. she let one of her hands reach up to your chin, licking the fallen tears and placing soft kisses on your cheek as you rode out your orgasm.

she let you stay like that for a while, letting you catch your breath on your shoulders as she whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“you’re the worst..” you whispered playfully, your body feeling her laugh against you. “and we’re going for another.”

© 7KH 2024, all rights reserved — do not claim, modify, copy or translate my content.

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ' late night moments with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: this is just sleepy fluff <3 some of the boys get kind of emotional.

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: happy binnie day!! <3 to this day, these are some of my favorite hcs i've ever written so i hope you enjoy! (early morning moments with them right here <3)

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - 2:34 am

“Do you think Berry misses me sometimes?” He mumbles into your lap, voice full of sleep as you gently massage his scalp. Looking down at him, your eyes soften when he hugs your middle and hides his face in your stomach which prompts your other hand to begin tracing his features softly.

“Of course, she does, baby.” Chan almost purrs in response and your heart melts at the sight, managing to contain the sudden urge to squish his cheeks together. “Remember how excited she was the last time you visited? She was jumping, running around you and never left your side the whole time you were there.”

A moment passes and then two with no response from your boyfriend and that’s when you realize, by his even breathing, that he finally fell asleep.

You smile and lean down to plant a sweet kiss on his forehead, whispering a sincere I love you in his ear, not stopping your massage.

Sleeps like this, in your lap, until you’re sure he’s asleep for good before you slowly move him into a more comfortable position and wrap his whole body in a blanket burrito.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - 11:59 pm

“Hug me, I’m cold!”

You hear him groan before he turns over to face you, grumbling under his breath as he envelopes your body in a big hug and begins to squeeze the life out of you. All out of love, of course.

“Better now?” “Minho, I can’t breathe!”

Doesn’t let go but does tilt your head up to look into your eyes and the love you see as you stare back almost has you in tears. A sleepy smile makes its way onto his lips and that’s when you manage to loosen his grip by wiggling into his arms, wasting no time as you begin to plant open-mouthed kisses all over his face.

His smile widens until giggles escape him, loving the way your lips feel on his skin as he lets you do whatever you want until you’re satisfied. When you finally reach his lips but don’t linger for as long as he’d like, instead kissing them repeatedly while also giggling, he takes matters into his own hands and kisses you deeply while still keeping the initial softness of your previous ones.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - 3:47 am

You toss and turn in the sheets for what feels like the millionth time before finally giving up with a frustrated sigh. “Binnie, I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither.” The response comes instantly and you sit up on your elbows to find him staring at the ceiling, visibly exhausted. You frown, scooting closer to hug him by the middle and rest your chin on his chest.

“Everything okay?”

Your soft voice prompts him to let it all out, to rant about work and his daily struggles at a fast pace that you can barely keep up with. When his voice quivers, you look up and plant comforting kisses on his neck and jaw, one hand gently massaging his chest through his nightshirt.

When he’s done and his speech slows down, Changbin moves to hide his face in your hair, muscular arms wrapping around your body to bring you closer, almost like he wanted to morph your bodies together. Being one with the love of your life sounded great right now – to be able to take all of his pain and discomfort so that he’ll always be happy and healthy was something you dreamt about often. Unfortunately, until that was possible, you hoped from the bottom of your heart that what you’re able to do right now is enough.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - 1:08 am

“Forget worms, would you still love me if I was a deadly shark?”

Hyunjin looks up from his phone, flabbergasted, just to find you already looking at him. He’s silent, waiting for you to elaborate but when you don’t, he sighs and gives in. “Darling, what the hell are you talking about?”

You roll your eyes, cuddling closer as you place your head in the crock of his neck to inhale his comforting scent. His arms pull you closer instantly, phone long forgotten. “This hypothetical situation, Jinnie, is critical for our relationship. Please take it seriously.”

Is confused the whole time as you ramble on and on about your ‘hypothetical situation’ that at some point, having had enough, he just turns his back to you and gets comfortable on his other side.

When you follow him and throw a leg over his body, continuing on while drawing patterns onto his back, he swiftly turns around to hover over you, pinning you to the mattress. Your eyes meet and for a second, you think he’s going to kiss you until your dream is shattered as he begins tickling you mercilessly instead. A tickle war starts that leaves you both breathless and laughing well into the night.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - 1:56 am

“When you’re away and I miss you, I spray this pillow with your cologne and cuddle it as I would cuddle you.”

Jisung’s eyes widen slightly as you speak against his lips, the lingering sadness in your tone pulling at his heartstrings in an unpleasant way. You’re face to face, staring lovingly at each other while talking in hushed voices about everything that comes to mind.

He knows that at this time during the night, he gets all soft and mushy but he wasn’t expecting to cry this soon. You were so good to him, his own angel on earth that would wait for him for as long as it was needed. You deserved so much better.

Gently cupping your cheek, you lean into his touch and close your eyes in contentment, and he bites his tongue to stop himself from crying. “I’m sorry, baby.”

His voice is shaky so without a word, you cuddle closer, burying your head in his chest and holding him tighter while also kissing his covered chest. “Sorry? Sorry for what? Don’t be silly, Ji. Your love makes all this waiting around worth it every single time.”

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ - 4:02 am

“Wait, what? She said that to you?” Felix asks, voice loud in disbelief as the hand that was combing through your hair stops momentarily.

You nod, looking up at him from where you’re resting your head, on his abs, the bare skin warm and soft under your touch. “Yes! I have receipts, hold on.”

As you scramble out of bed to get your phone from where it's charging, Felix can’t help but smile as his eyes are completely focused on you and nothing else. He always thought you were the most beautiful like this – bare-faced, with your hair slightly messy and missing that furrow between your brows that appeared during the day.

Vulnerable and oh-so cuddly during the late hours of the night, and early hours of the morning you sometimes spent with him, talking, kissing and laughing until the sun rose again to announce another new day.

When you came back to bed, Felix was resting with his back against the headboard and the position allowed him to pull you flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you showed him your phone. It was the domesticity he always craved for which he hoped would never end. That you and him like this never ended.

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - 12:32 am

Taking another peek at the bedside clock, you can’t help but sigh as the red digits glare at you, almost mockingly. You’ve been in bed for hours now and you’re still as awake as you were back then too. It was infuriating, and you were this close to actually crying in frustration.

Almost as if sensing your low mood, Seungmin turns on his side to face you. “Everything okay?”

You shake your head and bury your head in the warm pillow. “I can’t sleep, Minnie. Will you sing to me, please?”

His arms come around you to bring your back to his chest, successfully luring you into being the little spoon, which to be honest, you didn’t mind one bit right now. He places a kiss on your cheek, and with one hand softly massaging your hip, he starts humming. Not a lullaby, but one of the group’s title tracks.

When you glare at him over your shoulder, he grins and stifles a chuckle before starting to sing a proper lullaby. Just as suspected – his dreamy voice does have magical powers and you’re asleep in less than five minutes. Or maybe it's the way he holds you so closely and the occasional kiss on the top of your head that does the trick. Either way, you have to let Felix know asap. He owes you 20$.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - 11:45 pm

“Blanket thief.” He complains, however, there’s no real malice in his tone as you roll around into a blanket burrito and leave him completely exposed to all the monsters that come out at night, laughing loudly.

You don’t see him, but he rolls his eyes, trying to appear annoyed as he hides his growing smile. “Come here, baby, let’s share.”

When you shake your head no, still giggling in your pillow, Jeongin takes matters into his own hands, literally, and lifts you up by the waist to trap you into his tight embrace, which causes you to shriek and laugh again. He soon joins in and your laughter fills the tiny room as you begin wrestling for the blanket.

“Come on, be reasonable, there’s enough blanket for the both of us.” “No.” “Y/n.” “But Jeongin, the monsters – “ ,“I’ll beat them up! Now, come here!”

Somehow, he manages to convince you to share and you fall asleep cuddling while watching youtube videos, with his soft voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear. But during the night, he still ends up uncovered and because he’s petty, he pretends to fall out of bed and says that the monsters got to him because of you and your selfish nature he can’t help but still love so much!

[kamaluhkhan]

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

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

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

track 1: thank god it’s christmas by queen

(winter — age 17)

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

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

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

“vi?”

“....yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i remember. you…you must miss her.” 

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

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

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

“your mom going, too?”

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

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

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

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

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

“why’s that?” you ask. 

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

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

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

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

“yeah?” 

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

“i want that too.”

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

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

you taste like home.

….

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

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

….

track 2: winter wonderland by darlene love

(winter — age 12)

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

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

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

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

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

you nod, smiling. “ekko!” 

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

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

…..

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

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

…..

track 3: last christmas by wham!

(winter — now)

vi should have learned from sonic youth and fleetwood mac: 

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

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

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

vi’s heading back home, back to you.

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

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

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

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

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

“violet? is that you?” 

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

“i missed you too, zig,” vi laughs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“of course,” vi says. 

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

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

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

“holy shit. is that violet lanes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vi feels her cheeks heat up all over again. 

so, you do remember. 

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

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

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

“it just seems kinda sad,” you continue. 

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

“sure, but it ends hopefully.”

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

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

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

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

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

“not all of them.”

“yeah? which ones haven’t?”

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

you blink away and cut the engine.

….

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

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

should be fun. 

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

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

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

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

“you know powder’s graduating this year?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“hey. you still with me?”

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

…..

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

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

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

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

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

“oh, i know it.”

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

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

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

“i didn’t.”

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

“sure.”

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

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

“convincing her to go.” 

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

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

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

“okay.” vi says. “i’ll talk to her.” 

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

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

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

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

….

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

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

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

….

track 4: river by joni mitchell

(winter — age 23)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“me neither,” you smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“wait, what the fu —”

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

“please, baby, let me explain —”

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

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

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

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

you stare at her, then start to laugh.

“please tell me you’re joking.”

“i’m not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you take a deep, shaky breath.

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

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

…..

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

please come home.

…..

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

(winter — now)

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

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

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

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

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

“you remember.” 

“are you surprised?”

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

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

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

vi’s soft blue eyes search yours. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you rip away from his grasp. 

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

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

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

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

oh, fuck no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

she remembers. 

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

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

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

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

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

while i’ve been away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you were my dream.”

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

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

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

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

“you’re still bleeding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yes. please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

unacceptable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

….

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

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

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

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

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

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

“shit, i — did you want some?”

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

vi nods.

okay? okay? vi thinks she might have whiplash. 

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

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

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

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

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

“i do.”

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

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

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

“ekko talked to you, huh?”

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

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

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

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

vi hums knowingly. she presses her forehead against yours. 

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

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

“anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sounds like a plan,” you smile.

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

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

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

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

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

“i better go.” 

“....yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

....

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

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

i’ll see you later. love you!

[suempu]

Looooving the Laios content!!!! If you have any nsfw headcanons for him we would love to hear those too👀

<3 i tried to keep it as gn as possible. reader is on the receiving end

laios wouldn’t really be interested in sexual things unless you ask him about it.

getting intimate with him would have to happen at random or unplanned.

he’s really just content with kissing and hugging you, he’s never once thought of sex. one kiss is enough to get him so high and happy.

please makeout with this man, it gets him going. he loves your lips, the way you hum into his mouth, and the gentle caresses you leave on his arm while you do.

your first makeout session gets him hard. normally, you two only exchange sweet kisses and touches, so he was shocked when you decided to crawl over his lap to hold his face better.

his mind explodes from there.

he’s a whimperer, please guys agree with me on this. a lot of quiet gasps and surprised voice cracks are gonna come out of him.

“mmf… nghh… mMph-!”

he loves it when you tug on his hair, when your fingers dig into his roots and firmly pulling it back while you grind down at him.

laios likes putting his hands around your body, he embraces you while moaning into your mouth, eager for more of your taste.

dont get me started with the whole “taste” thing.

this man loves to eat, we all know that. but he loves to eat you.

the first time is awkward, as he’s not sure where he’s allowed to touch you and he’s quite hesitant.

“i just… don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“laios, i’ll tell you if i don’t like it, okay?

you’re both learning each other’s bodies, and after much reassurance he leans in and nips at your neck.

he’s a… mouthy person. loves sucking on your skin, biting your ear (gently of course), moaning into your shoulder. one thing he loves to do, which isn’t inherently sexual, is to wrap his arms around you while nosing and kissing the skin between your jaw to your shoulder.

he trails his lips all over you, making you giggle and moan at the same time. he just likes feeling you out tbh

laios is def girthy, nothing extreme, just a bit thicker than you’d realize. he’s kind of shy at first, no one has ever seen him like this so he doesn’t know if he’s considered “sexy” or attractive

until now, he paid no mind to his body, didn’t care if people found him hot or anything, but he’s suddenly embarrassed when its you.

“i-is it good enough…?”

“you’re literally bigger than 4 of my fingers combined.”

but yes, please praise this man. tell him you love him and that he’s beautiful.

laios eats up the praise, he has a dopey smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. he loves knowing that he can satisfy you, it makes him feel fulfilled.

once you actually get to it, his body was trembling from the heat and warmth. he moans shakily while nuzzling his face into your hair, murmuring about how good you feel and how much he loves you.

he’s really loud. he’ll moan in your ear with no hesitation and you tease him about it afterwards.

aftercare with him is comfy and cozy. you both are spent as you cuddle into each other, basking in the afterglow.

he has such a loving gaze, he looks so much like a big puppy that it makes your heart melt.

“that… was really good.” he sighs, lips nuzzled into your hair. pulling back from his chest, you rub his cheeks as you relax into the pillows, staring up at him with a smug face. “i can tell. with the way you came after 10 seconds.”

“please don’t.” he groans.

don’t worry, after a few times he will memorize all the sensitive spots in your body and get you to cum a thousand more.

laios has good stamina and he can go for at least 2 or 3 more rounds. if you’re too tired, he’ll use his remaining energy to carry you to the bathroom and wash you both off.

will unintentionally get hard while he’s cleaning you, so please forgive him for that. he’s just really attracted to you lmao

“next time maybe you can try pulling my hair.” you lean back against his chest in the tub. “or maybe a tug?”

“i don’t know… i wouldn’t wanna accidentally hurt you.”

“……”

“…”

“laios are you hard right now?”

“i’m sorry.”

after that, you both will have a relaxing routine of drying each other’s hair and brushing your teeth before sleeping.

laios is eager to learn more about your body and he’s genuinely excited to figure out what gets you going. 100/10 lover, he can’t wait to go again.

[hsnlv]

jake! is the type to…

pairing: boyfriend!jake x fem!reader

warnings/others: fluff!!, there’s also smut so scroll if uncomfortable!!

a/n: hi, im back (not really lol) but ive been really busy with college lately so i dont really have time to update :( but i hope you’ll enjoy this💗 reblogs and comments are highly appreciated🎀 here’s my masterlist!

jake! is the type to lie to you for no reason at all because he always craves for your attention and he loves being babied :(

“baby, i swear it hurts!” his pout deepens as you roll your eyes for the umpteenth time now, his fingers playing with his bottom lip.

ridiculous, really. he told you that he fell down the floor and his lips hit the floor or something and he needs a kiss from you.

“jake, you’re fine,” you deadpan, crossing your arms.

“i’m not fine!” he whines dramatically, leaning closer. “my lip is throbbing, throbbing, and you don’t even care…”

his exaggerated sulking makes you stifle a laugh, but you shake your head. “you’re unbelievable.”

“you don’t love me,” he mumbles under his breath, flopping back on the couch with a dramatic sigh. “my lip is falling off, and you won’t even give me one tiny kiss to save me.”

your resolve falters at his pitiful expression, his big, pleading eyes locked on yours. with a sigh, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his bottom lip.

“better now?” you ask softly.

he grins instantly, his arms sneaking around your waist. “so much better. but… maybe one more?”

jake! is the type to always appreciate the little gifts you make though they are stupid sometimes. his mama raised him too well!

“here,” you say, holding out a small keychain you made. It’s uneven, the beads don’t quite match, and the tiny heart you drew on it is smudged—but you couldn’t help yourself.

jake takes it with a gasp, his eyes lighting up as if you’d just handed him the most precious treasure in the world. “you made this for me?”

“yeah, but it’s kind of ugly, isn’t it?” you mumble, suddenly shy.

“are you kidding?” he exclaims, turning it over in his hands like it’s priceless. “this is perfect. look at the little heart! and you picked my favorite color for the beads! baby, this is amazing.”

you laugh, watching as he immediately clips it onto his bag. “you don’t have to use it, you know.”

“of course I’m using it!” he says, beaming. “every time I see it, I’ll think of you. it’s my new good luck charm.”

he leans over to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “you’re the best, you know that?”

jake! is the type to get jealous over the smallest things too because he’s a big baby who wants your attention for him and himself only!!! :(

“you were laughing a lot back there,” jake mutters, slumping onto the couch with a pout.

you glance at him, confused. “what are you talking about?”

“with him,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. “you looked so happy. giggling and all…”

“him?” you blink, wracking your brain. “jake, what are you—wait.” your eyes land on layla, his fluffy golden retriever, sprawled happily on the floor after you’d been showering her with belly rubs and baby talk for the past ten minutes. “are you jealous of your dog?”

he flushes instantly but doesn’t back down, his pout deepening. “you were giving her so much attention. i’m right here, and all I got was a ‘hi, babe.’”

“jake…” you laugh, sitting beside him. “are you serious right now?”

“yes! you even said she was the cutest thing ever. what about me?” he huffs, looking every bit like a sulky child.

“you’re ridiculous,” you tease, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “you’ll always be my cutest, okay?”

his frown melts into a satisfied grin, and he pulls you closer. “good. but no more calling Layla ‘cutie.’ that’s my title.”

jake! is the type to always joke around a lot but he knows tooooo well how to comfort you with his words and gestures whenever you’re in doubt of yourself <3

“why do you even put up with me?” you mumble, staring down at your hands as doubt creeps into your chest. “i’m not… i don’t think i’m enough sometimes.”

the room grows quiet for a moment—so quiet you almost wish he’d crack one of his usual jokes to lighten the mood. but instead, jake kneels in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.

“hey,” he says softly, tilting his head to meet your gaze. his eyes hold none of his usual teasing—just warmth and sincerity. “where’s all this coming from, baby?”

you hesitate, shrugging. “i don’t know… i just feel like I’m not doing enough. or being enough.”

his hands tighten around yours, and he shakes his head. “don’t say that. you’re more than enough, okay? you’re everything. you’re smart, you’re kind, and you make every single day better just by being you.”

you sniffle, feeling tears well up, but jake smiles, leaning closer. “besides, if you weren’t perfect, how could you have me wrapped around your finger like this, huh?”

you laugh through the tears, and he grins, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “there’s that smile.” he slowly lays you down on the bed, his hands caressing your waist delicately. “now, how about i remind you of how perfect you are?”

jake! is the type to be the sweetest in bed!! always whispering sweet things to you while he’s fucking you so delicately as if you’re a glass that can break anytime soon.

“you’re perfect,” he whispers, his forehead pressed gently against yours, his breath warm on your skin. his hands move over you like he’s memorizing every curve, every inch, as though you’re something sacred.

“i love you,” he murmurs, his voice soft but heavy with emotion, his lips brushing against yours in fleeting, delicate kisses. his movements are slow, careful, as if you’re made of glass—fragile and precious, something he wants to protect and cherish. but god, does he know how to make you feel so fucking good.

“does it feel good, baby?” he asks, his voice dropping lower, his eyes searching yours while his hips are moving with a steady pace. his cock is moving in and out of your sweet little cunt, making him biting his lips hard to make sure he doesn’t cum too soon from how fucking good you feel around him. “hm? my sweet girl deserves to feel good, yeah? fuck—”

his hands hold you firmly yet tenderly, pulling you closer, keeping you grounded in him. “look at me,” he says softly, his thumb brushing your cheek as he gazes at you like you’re his whole world. “there’s no one else, nothing else—just you. you’re everything to me.”

he hisses at the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock. it feels as if you were made for him and him only. the way he fits so perfectly in you, the way he never gets bored of the feeling of you around him, both cunt and mouth wise. the way your moan sounds so good in his ears that it can seriously be his lullaby to put him to sleep. the way he can practically see heaven whenever he’s fucking you.

“doing so good for me, yeah?” he cooes, brushing the strands of hair that sticks on your forehead. fuck! he swears he can cum only by the sight of you panting and squirming underneath him. the feeling of his tip constantly abusing your sweet spot in the most delicious way ever makes you let out a small whimper alongside with a soft ‘jakey…’, making him groan against your neck as he breathes in your sweet sweet scent.

“atta girl. come for me, baby. you look so fucking pretty like this…” the feeling of his warm release coats your wall, his breathing heavy and hard, his grip on your thighs are firm as he tries to ground himself hard.

with him, it’s more than physical—it’s a connection, a reminder that you are seen, loved, and treasured completely.

“my sweet girl deserves one more, yeah?” he says before he starts to move again, his cock twitching.

jake! is the type to pamper you with small kisses, caresses and praises for aftercare, making sure you will always feel loved— before, during and after your intimate moments together!

“how’re you feeling, baby?” he whispers, his voice tender as his fingers gently comb through your hair. he cradles you close, like you’re the most precious thing in the world, his warmth wrapping around you like a safety net.

before you can even answer, his lips find your forehead, lingering there for a moment before planting a trail of tiny kisses along your temple, your cheeks, your nose, and finally the corner of your mouth. “did so well for me,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice so soft it makes your heart ache. “so good, so pretty, hm?”

he pulls the blanket over both of you, tucking you in snugly while his hands wander your back in the gentlest strokes. “you’re perfect, baby. so perfect,” he says, his tone full of awe as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. “i don’t think i’ll ever stop being in love with you.”

he grabs a water bottle and holds it up to your lips, grinning when you take a sip. “good girl,” he says softly, pressing another kiss to your hair.

and just when you think he’s done, he starts whispering sweet nothings, his lips brushing against your ear. “thank you for trusting me. thank you for being mine. i’ll never stop taking care of you, okay?”

his kisses and praises don’t stop, his hands constantly finding yours to lace your fingers together, his every word reminding you how loved you are.

© all rights reserved | hsnlv 2025

[yaniluvs]

‧₊˚ ⛲️ ⌇ 리노 : OUR MOONLIGHT ── your idol-boyfriend comes over to yours, tired from the day's schedule, only to find you wearing one of his tees.

𓍯 idolbf!leeknow ʚଓ unistudent!fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ） 0.9k ── ༯ DRABBLE, established relationship, domestic and tooth rotting fluff, cute, comfort, petnames, messy but romantic kissing, making out, corny flirting, requested by anon! ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY . /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ if you saw this post earlier, no you didn't. this is a repost ㅠㅠ.. ginger/red/brown minho is my weak spot.. >< loved writing this so much !! my very first request, thanks anon! comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! happy reading <3

the hum of the city outside was a comforting backdrop as y/n sat in her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. she adjusted the brown frame of her glasses, staring at the glowing screen in front of her.

assignments always had a way of consuming her time, but tonight, her thoughts kept drifting elsewhere.

the sound of keys jingling at the door snapped her back to reality. she smiled to herself, knowing exactly who it was.

the door opened quietly, and the guy stepped inside, the dim light of the apartment highlighting his newly dyed dark brownish-scarlet hair. it suited him perfectly—soft, warm, hot, and too fine. 

he noticed her immediately, sitting on the couch in one of his tees- fitting her loosely, paired with shorts that barely peeked out from under the hem. she looked effortlessly cute, and his heart swelled at the sight. 

"busy, hmm?" her boyfriend asked, his voice gentle yet teasing, as he closed the door behind him.

she looked up, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him.

"you’re home," she exclaimed, pushing her glasses up her nose. "and you look so fluffy today. i can’t get over how perfect this hair color is on you."

minho cringed at her words, his face turning into mock-disgust, running a hand through his soft locks. "you think so? i thought you’d like it." 

"i love it," she replied, her tone affectionate. "you look like a hot rockstar who's secretly a red velvet muffin inside."

"interesting choice of words.." he chuckled, shaking his head at the nickname. "a red velvet muffin? really? i was going for something more…mature."

she giggled, setting her laptop aside. "oh, trust me, you look very mature," she teased, her eyes trailing over him. "but i can’t help it, you’re just so adorable."

minho made his way over to her, his movements slow and deliberate. he leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead before whispering, "and you, look way too good in my shirt."

y/n smirked, pulling him down by his hand to sit on the armchair nearby. "you mean my shirt now," she corrected, her voice playful.

"is that so?" his eyes sparkled with mischief. he sat down, pulling her with him so that she ended up on his lap, straddling him. 

she gasped softly, her hands instinctively finding their place on his broad shoulders. "someone’s feeling bold tonight."

"bold?" he tilted his head, his expression innocent. "i’m just getting comfortable."

she rolled her eyes, though her heart was racing. "comfortable, huh?"

he nodded, his hands resting on her waist, gently tugging her closer. "very comfortable. i mean, how could i not be when i have you right here?" his voice dropped to a whisper, lips brushing against hers.

she couldn’t help but smile, her hands moving to play with the soft strands of his dyed hair. "you really do look good with this color," she murmured, her lips hovering just above his. 

"then stop talking about it and do something," he challenged, his voice low and teasing.

her smile widened as she accepted the challenge, closing the small distance between them. their lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss, the kind that sent shivers down her spine. his hands tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer as the kiss deepened.

her heart pounded in her chest as she melted into him, every inch of her body aware of his presence. she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, and it was comforting, grounding her in the moment.

his hands slid up her back, his touch gentle. he broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against her lips, "you taste like strawberries."

"you look like one," she chuckled softly, brushing her nose against his. "but you taste like trouble."

"is that a bad thing?" he asked, his voice pouty, laced with amusement.

"not at all," she replied, capturing his lips again. 

the world outside her apartment faded away, leaving just the two of them, lost in each other. their kisses stayed soft, more calm, as if they were making up for all the time they’d spent apart. 

minho's hands roamed over her body, his touch setting her skin on fire. he loved how she responded to him, the way she clung to him, the little gasps that escaped her lips between kisses.

her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, as if she could never get enough of him. she could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed her, and it made her heart swell with love.

eventually, they pulled apart, both of them breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other. 

"you really need to come over more often," y/n whispered, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw.

the guy only chuckled, his breath warm against her skin. "i’m not going anywhere, not when you look at me like that."

she blushed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "like what?"

"like i’m the only person in the world," he replied, his voice soft, sincere.

she smiled, her heart fluttering at his words. "that’s because you are," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him once more.

this time, it was better, more tender, a promise of all the moments they would share in the future.

and as they held each other, wrapped up in their own little world, they knew that nothing else mattered. not the assignments, not the schedules, not the outside world—just the two of them, here, in this moment.

[tbaluver]

I loved the “when you have a baby with them” fic, could you do one where you feel insecure about your body post birth and they reassure you? I love your work!! 🤍

When You're Insecure About Your Body After Birth- The Love And DeepSpace Men

warnings: mentions of body insecurities

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

a/n: hihi anonnie!! im so happy to hear you loved that headcanon fic and my works! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) it always makes my day to hear you guys love them <3 i hope you and everyone else enjoys this one!

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He would notice every time he tried to get close to you, you would find an excuse or completely avoid him. Anytime you would try to wrap his arms around you at bedtime, you would roll away from him so you're out of his reach. Your sleepy lover would not be able to sleep anymore without you in his arms.

He would be so confused on why you tried to avoid his affection. He would look it up on his phone, his search history filled with questions of "Does my lover hate me?" "Why does my lover not want my affection" All the answers he read online made him more confused and sad.

It wasn't until he watches you stand in front of the mirror, tugging at your clothes and grimacing each time you realize the fabric doesn't sit on your body like it used to before. You wouldn't notice that he was watching you, thinking he was asleep the whole time.

He would grow concerned every second and every minute as you're still fixated on your clothes and by the time he gets up from your shared bed, you're on the verge of breaking down. You avoid eye contact with him before he can even ask what's wrong.

His arms reach around your waist and he pulls you firmly into his body, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Honey, I can’t stand seeing you like this. What’s making you upset? I want to support you and make everything better.” He would say, kissing your neck before nuzzling into you.

Although your lover warms your heart, it doesn't stop your tears. Instead, you start to ramble about how you don't look like how you used too before your pregnancy. How your clothes don't fit you like how they used too and how you felt like you started to hate your body.

He would listen silently, letting you let it all out while he's continuing to hold you so closely. You let out a deep sigh when you finished talking, melting into his touch.

He would pepper you with kisses and promises you that every inch and part of you is beautiful and deserves to be loved. He'll continue to love on you as much as it takes for you to see you as he sees you.

"You're my everything. Every change is proof to your incredible strength and the beautiful journey we've shared. To me you're more than perfect and I'll keep reminding you of that every single day."

Zayne:

Zayne has always been and will be extremely attentive to you and your family. He's remembered your medical record and has known the smallest detail about you so he's already noticed the change on your eating habits. He'll notice you checking the packages to check the calorie counts and at first he wouldn't think much of it. He would think at first, you were maybe keeping track of your energy but he wouldn't brush this off.

He'll notice this has been happening quite often every day. Every time you want too cook something or order something or even get a snack, you'll always check the calorie count. So he decided to finally talk to you about it during dinner and ordering your favorite takeout.

As you chat and set down the dinner together, feeding the baby first, he’ll notice you putting only a small amount of food on your plate. It’s your favorite dish, so this seems unusual to him. "Is that all you're going to eat, my love?" He would ask, his gaze on you. You would look at him anxiously and tell him it was enough for you because you were on a diet but he would tell you that it wasn't enough and that you didn't need to go on a diet at all.

Tears would threaten to spill from your eyes when you would explain to him that you need to lose weight. You'd open up about your insecurities, worried that he might not find you as attractive now because you feel your body has changed after the pregnancy compared to how you looked before.

Zayne would get up from the opposite side of the table where he sat and made his way to your side. He would sit back down on a chair closest to you, hold your hand tenderly, and gently rub soothing circles on the back of your knuckles.

“My love, you’ve only just welcomed a new life into the world and your body has done something remarkable. It’s proof of your strength and love, and its beauty goes far beyond just appearances.” He would say while pressing soft kisses on the back of your knuckles.

He hated to see you so upset like this, insecure and hating your body when to him you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He would do anything to show you how truly loved you really were.

"I promise you, you don't need to lose any weight. I think you're perfect the way you are. But if you don't feel confident in your body, then there are better ways to do it. I can help you and support you."

Rafayel:

He's called you a couple times to dinner but you didn't come down to the dining area. He's already fed the baby and put your baby down for a nap before he went off to find you. You stood in your shared bathroom mirror, poking and prodding at the pregnancy scar and imperfections on your body. Every single flaw became amplified in your mind the longer you looked at your figure contort in the mirror. You felt disgusted in your own body and wanted it all to disappear.

Tears would race down to your cheeks and you would feel strong arms wrap around your waist. You were met with Rafayel's reflection smiling right back at you until he saw the tears stain your face. He would gently turn you to face him, keeping one arm wrapped around your waist while using his free hand to wipe away your tears. "What's the matter princess?"

He patiently waited for you to talk as you tried to steady your breathing as he continued to wipe any more tears that came running down.

When you were ready to talk, you explained to him that you've been feeling insecure lately. The weight that you gained from pregnancy hasn't left your body. You haven't looked the same every since. A couple of your clothes don't fit the way they used too and it's all been upsetting you.

Hearing you talk so low of yourself broke Rafayel's heart. He hated that part of your brain. The brain that brings you down and makes you despise yourself. He desperately wished you could see yourself the way he saw you.

He began peppering your face with soft kisses, causing you to let out a laugh. He continued trailing kisses over your body and stopping at every area to tell you why he loved it. Your body was practically covered with kisses and praises from head to toe. Once he was finished, he brought himself back up and pulled you into a kiss.

"My love, you're like a breathtaking masterpiece to me. Every change tells the story of the journey we've been through together. You're still the same incredible woman I fell in love with, and you'll always be my beautiful, amazing wife. My one and only. I adore you more than ever."

He cups your cheeks gently and looks into your eyes with his warm gaze, "I love you, every part of you," He says softly. "If I could somehow transfer my thoughts and feelings into your mind so you could see yourself the way I do, I would do it in a heartbeat."

Sylus:

He would notice the signs but he didn't want to jump to conclusions just yet. You two would shower often before you gave birth. It was one of the intimate times you both shared. After birth, he noticed that you wouldn't shower with him anymore. Usually you would excuse yourself to watch the baby or say you would have already showered. You also wouldn't go out that often with him to auctions or any dates even if he offered Luke and Kieran to watch the baby. He figured maybe it's because you didn't trust them with the baby just yet, which is valid.

It wasn't until he finally got to convince you to go out tonight to an auction. He picked out a dress for you so he could match with you.

You stared at the mirror completely lost in thought. You hum dismissively as continued to poke at your skin. You analyze every stretch mark that appeared on your skin out of the dress. You'd turn every few minutes to check out your other angles.

You were so caught up in thought that the footsteps of your lover didn't alert you that he was in the room. He was leaning against the door frame, watching you for a while. He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "You look beautiful sweetie." He says, placing a kiss on your shoulders and then one at the top of your head.

You'd frown and protest, feeling that you're not as beautiful as he says. You'd start to ramble about how the changes from pregnancy have made you uncomfortable with your appearance, tears welling up in your eyes. Realizing that tonight might not be the best time to go out, you'd suggest that he should go by himself instead.

He'd spin you around so you were now facing him. His large hands cupping your face as one of his thumbs wipe any tears running down. A finger on your chin made you look up at his crimson eyes and you can see the concern and honesty in his eyes as he spoke.

"Sweetie, you are truly beautiful. Your beauty isn't just in how you look but in the love and resilience you've shown. I see you, not just as my wife but as this remarkable woman who has given a gift and something truly precious. You are stunning, inside and out."

He would gently intertwine his fingers with yours, holding together as he placed tender kisses on your knuckles. All the while, he'd keep his gaze locked on you, with one arm wrapped lovingly around your waist.

"I know every detail about your body and I know it's perfect. I will continue to love you, every inch of you. And I'll remind you that every single day."

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Was missing my baby so I decided to type this up <3 Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Katsuki’s down bad but to be fair, so are you lol, you’ve been married for over a year, you two live together, pre-established relationship, anti social Katsuki, you have a lot of Dynamight merch, Katsuki publically simps for you <3, f!reader, Katsuki refers to you as his wife and vice versa, reader’s a little childish lol

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

•────•°•❀•°•──── ᴛ��ᴅᴅʏ ʙᴇᴀʀ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

It's no surprise that Bakugou loves to talk about you, his pretty wife.

Ever since the two of you got married, the public could definitely see the impact you had on him- even though you didn't come fully public with your marriage. He's kinder now, softer in a way, still the powerful hero he used to be, if not even stronger, but he's not the same person who flips off a camera once paparazzi flock to him after a mission.

Instead he gives a slight nod of acknowledgement before moving on- he had places to be.

Places being back home, to you, in your awaiting arms, where you would greet him with a smile that could heal the world of its sins if it wanted to, a smile that to him, was the purest and most beautiful thing in the world.

Bakugou Katsuki wasn't a man who truly believed someone was better than him, having enough confidence in himself to become was he was not with enough determination, but you...

You were his heaven, his haven, his home. You were the sun and the moon, and land and the sea, everything beautiful in the world, it was you.

And the whole world could tell. Probably even extra terrestrial species on other galaxies.

Well, everyone but you.

You, being the absolute angel you are, didn't think of yourself that way. You were just… you - trying to achieve your goals and have a happy life, alongside your Katsuki, who you'd support no matter what, and him, you.

You knew Katsuki loved you, of course you did- though the blonde wasn't well versed when it came to expressing his feelings through words, he was more than adequate in showing it through his actions instead.

You probably wouldn't be able to even comprehend the amount of love Katsuki held in his heart for you.

Until one special night that is.

Katsuki's been invited to one of your favorite talk shows, and after a lot of convincing ( read: pleading ) he gave in. He couldn't say no to you anyways.

Katsuki had left for the filming a while ago, leaving you to deck out in your limited edition Dynamight merch while turning on the TV to watch your husband.

The familiar opening plays and you see the set of the show you always loved to watch- pride warming your heart as you see your beloved on the screen.

"Live from Tokyo, it's your host, Seiko Nishimura and tonight, we're here with the only and only, Pro Hero Dynamight!- also known as Bakugou Katsuki."

Your husband nods, and mumbles out a "Thanks for havin' me." and you feel your heart melt at his adorable attempt to be social on camera.

Seiko grins, and turns to her stack on notecards nodding to the audience. "Well, I've got a set of questions from the audience all around the world! And we've got a lot, so let's get right to it!"

The night goes on smoothly enough, with Katsuki answering questions about his career and his schedules signing events that were coming up. You hug your Dynamight themed teddy bear closer to your chest as you feel overflowing love for your husband. You were more than proud of him, overcoming trauma from his high school years and bad habits that you know still plague him to this day, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. He overcame it all- and you were just truly happy to be by his side.

All the questions are relatively the same- nothing really sparking your absolute interest (your focus was really just on Katsuki and how stupidly good he looked in his muscle shirt and cargos, matched with glossy jet black Prada boots)- until Seiko asks a question that makes you perk up.

"Many fans have noticed a ring around the chain you always wear when you're out fighting - do you perhaps have a special someone at home?" the host asks with a cheeky grin, expecting the blonde to give a flustered outburst but instead, Katsuki shows a hint of real emotion for the first time that night, a small genuine smile stretching across his face.

He takes out the chain in question, and runs his callused thumb over his fondly.

"Yeah, I gotta wife at home" he says, love seeping into his gruff voice. "She's probably on the couch watching this with that stupid Dynamight bear she got me for our last anniversary."

You gasp and look at your bear incredulously. "He did not call you stupid." you grumble, hiding half of your face into the plush of the stuffed animal but still peek over it to watch the screen.

You felt giddy, like a schoolgirl- wondering what Katsuki would say about you on live television. It was silly, you knew- but even after all these years Katsuki still had you flustered like he did all the way back when you were both sixteen.

"Damn woman uses that thing more than I do." he grumbles playfully and sighs."But...I don't think I would be where I am today without her."

You feel your cheeks heat, unable to be tear your eyes away from your husband on the screen.

"She's my rock, the breath in my lungs, the blood in my veins, the fire the keeps my goin'- I don't think I'd ever be able to tell her how much I really do love her."

You feel unbelievably hot, overwhelmed by love and affection even though he's not here with you. A watery smile forms on your face as you wipe away the tears that slip down your face.

You hold the teddy bear tight, breathing in Katsuki's scent- though he claims that you use it more than he does, know you that he sleeps with it whenever you're away.

Katsuki never failed to make you feel loved, through his actions, and right now, through his words too.

ʙᴏɴᴜꜱ:

this was one of the 247 posts Mina and Ejirou sent you the day after- Katsuki didn’t leave the bedroom once he saw, taking the teddy bear to cover his red face

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。PRINCESS — GETO SUGURU.

contents. non curse! au, dad! suguru, mom + fem! reader, reader is referred to as “mommy” and “wife,” life with your daughters nanako and mimiko <3, embarrassingly self-indulgent once again

suguru is prideful—you have to hold back a giggle as he gives you a short glare, unwilling to back down.

“it looks good,” he grumbles. you’re not sure if he’s trying to convince you or himself. “it’s great. stop being a jerk. the girls worked hard.”

“of course,” you nod, biting back a grin, “you look lovely. your hair’s never been better.”

“i can hear the laughter in your voice,” he accuses.

“i’m not laughing!”

he raises a brow, and you can’t help it. you giggle. his hair is positively ruined—there are knots and tangles and clips everywhere. you don’t know where one nest of hair starts and where the other ends. everything is everywhere at once and suguru….well, suguru is trying to convince himself this is okay.

it’s for his girls, he reminds himself—anything for his girls.

“you just laughed,” he mutters, looking into the mirror. his eyes are alarmed, but for pride’s sake, he throws on a carefree look as he shrugs. “i look like their princess. they said so themselves.”

“well, i’ll give you a point for sweetest dad ever,” you hum, pulling out a loose clip. “but i deduct five points for falling asleep on watch duty.”

you come home from work and find a sleeping suguru at the foot of the couch with two toddlers hunched over his shoulders, working diligently at his hair. it’s cute—the way he looks as he sleeps peacefully, the way they look as they giggle and twist strands of dark hair with their small fingers. it’s heartwarming and makes you want to keep the moment frozen for just a bit longer.

but then you realize that irresponsibly, suguru has fallen asleep with two toddlers in the house—one of which (you eye a certain blonde) is a bit of a troublemaker.

“negative four?” he gasps, wounded.

“negative four,” you affirm, shaking your head in disappointment.

“i couldn’t help it,” he pouts, “it’s soothing having two sets of hands play with your hair.”

“well, good luck getting this mess out of your hair,” you chuckle, turning to step out of the bathroom—but suguru is quick. his hand snatches your wrist as soon as you take a step.

“hang on,” he tugs, pulling you back in, “you’ve gotta help me with this.”

“i thought you said it was fine,” you raise a brow, “it shouldn’t be much trouble.”

“i haven’t see you all day,” he insists, “can’t i have a relaxing shower with my wife as she washes my hair?”

“i showered this morning. see you after yours though—”

“okay fine,” he deflates, rolling his eyes as he looks off to the side, “this is….gonna take a while to fix.”

you grin victoriously. suguru grumbles under his breath.

“alright,” you poke his cheek with a satisfied smirk, “i’ll help you. if you say pretty please.”

——————

“daddy you changed your hair,” nanako whines in despair as soon as suguru steps out of the bathroom. you stifle a giggle as he looks down at her in alarm.

“sweetheart, daddy just had to shower and—”

“maybe he didn’t like it,” mimiko mumbles quietly from the side. her voice is glum—and like the doting mother you are, your smile drops as you feel your heart ache.

“what? that’s not true!” suguru sputters, “i loved it! mommy loved it too, right?”

the two girls turn to look at you—and because you have long realized that motherhood is the gracefulness of putting your children’s feelings above all else, even if it means lying straight through your teeth, you nod with exaggerated vigor.

“of course!” you say enthusiastically, “it was so unique! i’ve never seen daddy look so….pretty.”

suguru shoots you an unimpressed look as you bite your lip in amusement.

“he was a princess!” nanako brightens, a happy smile erupting over her lips. suguru grins as he melts, pinching the soft flesh of her cheek gently with a low hum.

“i was,” he nods, “wasn’t i beautiful?”

“oh, yeah,” you snort, “way too beautiful—you might dethrone me.”

“mommy we can make you a princess too—”

“who wants dinner?” you cut mimiko off quickly, smiling through the panic, “i bet everyone’s hungry!”

“me!” nanako raises her hand enthusiastically and you sigh in relief—crisis successfully averted. but only for now, you suppose. the devious look suguru gives you tells you this won’t be the last time the suggestion is offered to you.

“what a shame,” suguru sighs dramatically, “i wanted to see you all dolled up. maybe next time.”

and then he reaches down and pulls both girls into his arms, filling the room with giggles as he nibbles on their cheeks affectionately and saunters off to the dinner table. you can’t help but smile softly as you watch his retreating figure—suguru was made for fatherhood, you think, he fills the role so effortlessly.

and then….you hear a thump and a hissed curse under his breath in the distance.

“mommy, daddy said a bad word!” nanako calls, earning a panicked no i didn’t! from your husband. “now he’s lying,” she adds.

well….no one said he was perfect.

i just know nanako is simultaneously a daddy’s girl who also rats him out and tattles 24/7 bc she thinks it’s funny when he gets in trouble

[4zayne]

𐙚 — you look just like a dream.

⟢ summary: headcanons of zayne as your boyfriend!

꒰ pairing ꒱ : zayne (love and deepspace) x fem!reader

꒰ word count ꒱ : 417 (short again..)

author's note 𑁤 : zayne my baby 😭 i love him so much and had to do some hcs for him too :3 lmk if you'd like to see more of these for the others! i'm gonna try and get some more stuff out trust <3

zayne loves shopping with you (despite how long you guys shop for and the amount of bags you leave with). he loves buying you things, whether it be cute clothes, jewelry, food. he just enjoys seeing your pretty smile.

zayne always has his guard down around you. he finds himself vulnerable when he’s with you, it’s like all walls and barriers disappear and he can just be himself and enjoy your company without having to worry about anything.

zayne reluctantly goes to cat cafes with you whenever you pass by one. he’s not very good with cats and they often run away from him, but it’s the opposite with you. they seem to love you, and they don’t mind him when your around so he supposes it's not that bad. 

zayne helps blowdry your hair after you shower, making you stand still in front of the bathroom mirror while still in your bathrobe. he enjoys doing these little things for you, it’s the least he can do since you’re so good to him.

zayne is always keeping an eye on you. mostly for health related reasons since sometimes you forget to take your medicine or don’t keep up with your weekly checkups. and when that happens, he’s often scolding you and making sure you take your medication on time and setting alarms on your phone so you don’t miss your appointments. 

zayne also knows when you’re on your period. once learning about your menstrual cramps and whatnot due to research and prior knowledge of it, as well as your mood swings, he’ll already have stuff prepared for you. pads, chocolate, red date tea, a heating pad: you name it. he’ll also massage your stomach whenever certain remedies don’t work or when he just wants to, just being next to you to comfort you and help you feel better is enough for him. 

zayne loves taking late night strolls with you. when it’s cold outside and you’ve forgotten your gloves at home, he’ll slip your hand into his pocket while holding your hand in his own. enjoying the scenery of the city, the bright lights, the way they reflect off your eyes, that happy expression on your face when you see a food stand with a delicious menu. it reminds him of how lucky of a man he is to have you, a man with a heart that constantly suffers from a great frost that you manage to melt with your warm touch. you're his dream come true.

© 4zayne do not reuse, steal or translate.