WILD.
WILD.
CAN YOU MAKE A STORY ABOUT MATT AND HIS GF, THEY HAVE SEX AT A RESTAURANT, SHES SITTING ON HIS LAP AND COCKWARMING AND THEN THEY HAVE CAR SEX AND CHRIS CATCHES THEM THEN WHEN THEY GET BACK TO THE HOUSE CHRIS FUCKS MATTS GF VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY SMUT FILLED
PURE ECSTASY (part one)
read part two here
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!soft dom!matt, pervert!dom!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a friend throws a birthday party at the club, but the night doesn’t end there. or with your boyfriend.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, p in v, cockwarming, public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), slight spit kink, oral (female receiving), getting caught, fingering, finger sucking, cheating (please don’t!), degradation, spanking, choking, sex tape, hair pulling, daddy kink, dumbification, overstimulation, breeding, begging kink, stomach bulge, ROUGHHH ASF
THIS IS NOT A THREESOME!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,017
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THIS REQUEST😟 (i love it) my new favorite fic holy moly it’s also ovulation week and when that happens i become one with the smut.
hope it’s okay that it’s at a club except restaurant!
for @sturniololovers :)
chatter fills around the booth, and the group gets ready to sit. it’s your friend’s 21st birthday, and of course she chose a club. the volume of the music and drunk people around make it extremely loud that you have to scream to talk to somebody.
purple, blue, and pink lights illuminate throughout the place, and the dance floor is packed with people. most of your friend group already made it to the bar or by the DJ, including nick, madi, and nate. chris sets his jacket down by everybody else’s stuff.
“i’m going to get a pepsi and join the others on the floor. you guys staying here?” he talks over the music, pointing behind him.
“for now.” matt replies, for some reason shimmying in his seat slightly. you shake it off as he tries to get comfortable, waving at chris as he walks off.
the two of you talk, some friends coming and going from the booth to put drinks down or mingle with you guys.
you lean into matt’s side, smiling at what he’s saying. he places his hand on your thigh, making you nuzzle into him more. “sit on my lap.” he says abruptly.
you’re confused, but lift yourself off of the seat to slide yourself to hover over your boyfriend’s lap. he guides your hips down, and you gasp from the sudden stretch.
he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.
his pants were just past his dick, the thing that your sitting on right now. you feel it growing inside you, cockwarming him in the middle of the club. “matt, we’re in public.” you whine.
he only shrugs. the dress you’re wearing is long enough to cover your sides, so if somebody looks over it seems that you’re innocently sitting on his lap.
“love the way you feel.” he groans in your ear, subtly squeezing your tit.
you glance around mortified, wondering if people can see you. the spot you guys chose is against the wall in the back, but it’s not like you’re invisible. “ride my cock, baby.”
this is crazy you think, but still grip onto the edge of the table anyway. you’ve learned your lesson multiple times before whenever you disobeyed matt, and if you did this time, he’ll likely spread you out on the table and fuck you so everybody can purposely see.
you start by grinding, gasping whenever his girth rubs against your walls. the way he feels already has you clenching. your arousal starts to coat his base, a sign for you to start bouncing.
not so hard, but softly. the grip you have on the table help you steady yourself. you can feel your face turning red, still looking around the club through your lashes. you like the thrill of somebody seeing you guys, but it’s also horrifying.
your head falls between your shoulders to hide your face of pleasure. moans lowly fall from your mouth, your eyes rolling back each time his tip brushes against your g-spot. “o-oh, matt, baby.” you moan in a high pitch, biting your lip when somebody walks by.
thank the lord people are too tipsy or distracted to look over here. you shake in his lap, another pitched moan flowing through the air. you exhale, lifting your head so it rests on the side of matt’s cheek.
he kisses your temple. “go ahead, baby. cum on my cock.”
whimpering, your orgasm washes through your body and onto his dick. you sigh of relief, catching your breath at the same time. “gonna cum in this beautiful cunt.” matt grunts when he twitches inside you.
you squirm, mumbling something along the lines of it spilling out of you. “don’t worry about that, honey. i’ll take care of it soon.”
the bottom of your dress is hoisted past your stomach, matt’s hold on your legs firm as you’re spread out in the backseat of the minivan.
by ‘taking care of it soon’, he meant cleaning it up for you.
the club’s music still bumps to the beat of the song it’s playing, even if you guys are in the parking lot.
you twitch beneath him, your eyes crossing and mouth agape. his tongue works wonders between your legs. you still feel sensitive from your previous orgasm from inside the club, the same orgasm that leaks around his lips as he digs into your needy hole.
soft moans and whimpers escape you, the windows fogging up from the heavy breathing and sweat.
he pulls away, bringing his face to hover over yours. he’s smiling foolishly at your trance. your arousal glistens around his mouth, his hair disheveled. “think you can take me again?”
you grip onto his biceps when he starts railing into you, your face scrunching up. you squeeze your eyes shut, but they open as soon as his hand grabs your jaw. “open your mouth.”
you obey, and he spits in it before kissing you open-mouthed. he consumes your sounds, the way your bodies are conjoined causes a slap noise every time his hips meet your pelvis.
bang bang bang.
the both of you jump at the fist hitting against the window, stopping in position. even though the windows are fogged, matt can tell who it is.
he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “what do you want, chris? we’re kind of in the middle of something, here.”
“stop fucking and open the goddamn door. i need my chapstick.” there’s silence. “and don’t be naked.”
matt pulls your dress down, zippering his pants. he crawls to the front seat to unlock the door.
the door immediately swings open, chris leaning on the passenger's side to grab his chapstick that’s in the cup holder.
you tap your fingers on your chest, patiently waiting for this weird encounter to be over. you see chris in your vision, looking at you. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes scan your body, but you’re not entirely sure.
“sorry to break this up but you guys need to head back in. everybody’s looking for you,” he says before leaving.
what a buzzkill.
lil skies music blasts throughout the house, scaring you awake from your sleep. it’s the early morning, around 3 AM.
you’re spending the night at the triplet’s house, your dress now substituted with one of matt’s shirts. you must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because once you adjust to the dark you realize you’re in the living room.
you check your phone, squinting at the sudden brightness.
my boy💙
went out on a long drive, i’ll pick up some mcdonald’s when i’m on my way back :)
2:47 AM
and you know nick’s staying over at madi’s tonight, so the culprit for the disruption is no other than chris sturniolo.
you groggily lift yourself off the couch, shuffling your way down the hall. you don’t bother knocking, and you make your way into chris’s room. his back is facing you, the tone in his muscles showing.
you clench your thighs without knowing.
he’s doing something on his phone when you mumble, but he clearly can’t hear you.
“can you turn that down? i’m trying to sleep,” you say louder, and he turns his head to you. he pauses the music, walking over.
“what?”
“please lower that. you woke me up,” you say lowly, staring at your feet.
he chuckles. “sorry.”
he takes his finger and lifts your chin so you look at him, his eyes set on your mouth as he takes his thumb and grazes it over your bottom lip. “you’re not as much of a prude as i thought.”
“e-excuse me?!” you stutter shockingly, another chuckle coming from the boy.
“you think i don’t know that you rode my brother in the middle of the club? then you guys went to the car to finish the job, no?”
your face goes pale. you understand how he knows about the car since he caught you guys, but not when you were at the club.
“h-how do you—”
“i observe.” he cuts you off. “i watched the way you bounced on his dick. can’t forget the pretty sounds i heard from the cracked window matt forgot to close.”
your cheeks become hot, your thighs yet again squeezing tight.
“thank you.” chris smiles at the bartender, spinning himself in the barstool to look around the club. this isn’t quite his scene, but he couldn’t miss out on a friend’s birthday.
he sips his pepsi, his elbow resting on the bar’s surface before landing his eyes on where your guy’s seats are.
you’re bouncing subtly on matt’s lap, face turning in different expressions.
chris grabs his crotch, his dick twitching in his pants as it threatens to grow at the sight. he’s not stupid and knows exactly what you’re doing.
his brother whispers something into your ear before placing you back next to him and taking your hand to walk out of the building.
he waits a few minutes before following you guys, leaving a tip for the bartender before doing so.
the van catches his eye instantly, the windows slowly becoming fogged and moans echoing in the air. your moans, the moans he wants to cause more than anything.
his plan to not get hard fails when his pants tighten, the sinful sounds becoming more intense when the car starts to rock.
before he knows it, he’s jogging over and banging on the window.
“you-you pervert!” you shout, wanting to remove chris’ stupid thumb from your lips; but you don’t. he hums, leaning to where his lips ghost yours.
“yet you’re turned on by it.” he whispers. “you’re telling me you’re not dripping between your legs right now?”
“i-i’m not.”
he takes his other hand and reaches under the shirt, his theory confirmed true.
he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.
the same smirk matt had in the club when he realized you were bare underneath. your boyfriend matt. his fucking brother.
pull yourself together, y/n.
“you sure?” chris says, passionately connecting his lips with yours. he rubs two fingers on your slick slit, your breath hitching.
pull. yourself. together. y/n.
he rubs once more before inserting the fingers into you, making you break the kiss and moan pathetically.
the thumb that was on your lip now goes into your mouth, and you suck on it. your hands bunch on his chest.
he lifts one of your legs to make his fingers plunge deeper into you, curling to hit the right spot. the leg he’s holding quivers desperately. “is the needy bitch going to cum on my fingers?”
you hum approvingly on his thumb before he removes it, your eyes never leaving contact with his. you tense, smearing your white liquid on his fingers.
brain foggy, you grumble two syllables. he heard you right, but wants to hear it loud and clear. “what was that?”
“fuck me.”
because he certainly doesn’t have to be told twice, he picks you up and props your ass up on his mattress.
he unties his plaid pajama bottoms, grabs your neck, and shoves your face into the pillows. he smacks your ass. hard.
“such a bad girl.” he slaps again, aligning his tip with your entrance. “gonna let me fuck you, even though you’re dating my brother.”
he spanks you three more times, tears building up in your eyes from the pleasurable pain. you grip onto the pillows when he starts to slowly fill you.
you utterly hate to admit this, but he’s bigger than matt. you gasp loudly, your pussy morphing into the shape of his dick when he’s in.
he throws his head back, eyes closed as he smiles smugly. he’s been wanting to do this for months.
his hips start rutting into you harshly, squeals leaving your lips the deeper he gets.
it gets to the point where he pulls out to just the tip and slams back into you. he repeats this action over and over again.
you bite down on the pillow to suppress your loud moans, the headboard banging against the wall.
he squeezes your throat tighter. “you filthy fucking thing.”
his hand meets your asscheek once again, and your body shakes from a sob. “he-e’s coming— back— soon.” you manage to say between whines.
“good.” his tip reaches your spot, your toes curling at the bliss. “maybe he can walk in to see his girl creaming all over my cock instead of his.”
once he said that you smear your release around him. his jaw slacks, quickly grabbing his phone that he threw on the bed the moment you came in.
you came in just as he was about to pull up your instagram — like he always does — whenever he needs something to masturbate to.
this, however, is so much better.
“c-cumming inside you.” he moans lowly, shooting his load deep into you.
his thrusts become slow, panning the camera to the mess you guys just made. “christ.” he whispers, pulling out to watch you leak his cum. “look at that.”
you’re not able to catch your breath when he’s fucking into you again. this time, faster.
hoarsely whimpering, he removes the hand from your neck and instead grabs your hair. he pulls your head up from the pillows, your moans now echoing throughout the room.
chris brings the camera in front of your face so you can see yourself.
you’re completely wrecked, strands of hair that he’s not holding all up in your face. your mouth’s open wide, spit dangling from your bottom lip and onto the sheets below. eyes rolling back when that familiar spot gets hit, spilling tears.
“say hi to matt, ma.”
“mm— h-hi matt,” you say incoherently, chris letting go of your hair, your head falling face down back on the pillows.
he brings the phone to his face, still drilling into you like he’s never going to stop.
he grins at the camera, lips swollen and red. “this pussy’s fucking incredible. thanks for letting me use her, man.”
he props his phone against the lamp on his nightstand, making sure to have a good angle. especially of the shirt you're wearing, specifically matt’s pink shirt with a teddy bear on it. the shirt that he loves on you.
“daddy!” you whimper, too late to take it back. “g-gonna cum, daddy.”
you let out a series of scream-like moans, chris hissing from the back.
“fuck, don’t do that to me.” he exhales, throbbing in your cunt. “you’re so fucking tight. all of this cum for me?”
“ah— mhm!” you choke out.
chris isn’t so far behind, but he wants to hold it for his own sake.
he turns your head on its side so you can look at the camera once again, his hand returning to your throat. “see that? this is exactly what the whore needs to look like.” he says into the phone as if he’s talking to someone. as if he’s talking to matt. “no thought in that brain except the feeling of a cock fucking the shit out of her; until she begs you to stop.”
he knew that the last part of that sentence was coming soon because your eyes were starting to close.
your pussy pulses, another orgasm threatening to escape. you try to crawl out of his grip, but he pushes you back onto him more. this brand new spot he’s hitting has you seeing stars.
“don’t run from me now, my dirty little cumslut.” he pants, looking at the dick imprint inside your abdomen. “holy shit. you’re fucking bulging.”
“please, daddy!” you mewl. “s-stop! it’s too much, chris—” he squeezes your ass, catching your mistake. “daddy! to-too much!”
in all honesty, you’re not exactly sure if you really want him to stop.
“i know, angel. just a few more minutes, okay? i know you have one more. what are we at, four now?”
“gonna cum nice and deep in ya, so you’ll be walking around for days with a swollen belly full of it.” his hand makes contact with your ass, your eyes shooting open. it has to be bruised at this point. “this is exactly how sluts like you should be treated. isn’t that right?”
“ngh— y-yes, daddy. cum in m-me, please.”
your body weakens, becoming limp. you’re in an overwhelming amount of pleasure you can’t even moan anymore. instead, you pant like a dog and stick your tongue out because of the overstimulation. your body rocks at the inhuman pace he’s going. your vision starts to fade, like you’re going to pass out.
pure ecstasy, is what it is.
his thrusts become sloppy, slowing down before coming to a halt. he moans, the feeling of his sticky substance filling your womb. “thank you, daddy. thank you, thank you!” you chant, eyes closing.
he pulls out slowly, the squelching noise music to his ears. there’s a string of cum connecting from his tip to your cum-filled cunt.
he takes his phone, doing a shot of the way your abused hole swallows his ropes of white. “this pussy let me breed you real nice.”
spreading your folds to do one final show of his cum spewing out, you jolt from the sensitivity of his finger pushing it back inside you. poor thing, red and swollen. the flutter of it making it easier for his orgasm to spill out. he ends the video, whispering praises into your ear while kissing your face.
you hear a camera click behind you as he snaps a quick photo of the disgusting mess you two made. the smell of sex floods your nostrils.
chris isn’t that much of an asshole to where he’ll actually send the video to matt. he’s cocky, only having the sex tape to himself to jerk off to. it’ll boost his ego tremendously, that’s for sure.
what’s in the back of his mind is if matt pisses him off in the slightest, he’ll have no problem showing him what his girlfriend looks like clamping down on his brother’s dick.
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @rootbeerworshiper @heartlessturniolos @chrisloyalgf @yoinkurnanuhoe @smoothies-are-cool @strtuniolo @1800chokedathoe @sturniolowhore @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani
More Posts from Shaquilles-0atmeal and Others
my cuddly baby :(((
I fucking love ao3 authors
Simon Riley x reader
Idk what to call this but I made a fic where Simon "Ghost" Riley falls for Johnny's female roomie cuz it's been clanking around in my head for days. Also now I can finally use the time I've spent in the UK having to listen to stupid slang and banter to use💪
Also reader is a girl that's like a main plot point👍Okay enjoy!
"Ya sure this is okay mate?" Kyle asked, slightly apprehensive as he entered the apartment
"'Course it's okay!" Johnny beamed, closing the door behind them "asked 'em 'forehand anyway"
Simon just grunted and started to remove his boots. The boys had a week off from being stationed at base and though most would use this time to go home and visit family, that option wasn't really in the cards for the three.
Kyle's family had gone on vacation, he had grumbled something about "lef' me 'ta holiday in the tropics". And Simon...well his family situation was...something, so Johnny had very graciously offered to host them at his apartment for the week. Just one problem, he had forgotten to let his friends know the roommate he lived with was a girl. Not only that, but he hadn't actually checked to see if you read his last minute message. Not that he had actually had the foresight to ask if you were okay with 2 men you had never met sleeping in your apartment for a week. He texted something along the lines of "omw back" quickly followed by "bringing the boys with"
You had been napping and hadn't seen his text, and you were too groggy as you woke up and shuffled to get dressed to even notice the sounds of footsteps in the front room.
"Just set ya shite by the couch 'fer now" Johnny commented as he walked into the open kitchen
Simon took a moment to scan over the apartment. There were the obvious signs of Johnny's presence scattered all around the room. A couple of empty chip bags, an X-box with the wires of the controller's tangled into one big mess, his army green sweatshirt draped over the back of the couch, his preferred brand of cereal stood haphazardly on the counter, even those stupid Crocs he bought a year ago were by the front door. But something felt off, he knew his friend lived with a roommate but there was something strange about the other items in the flat he couldn't put his finger on.
A hairbrush was set on the coffee table, the cups that he caught a glimpse of as Johnny opened the cupboard seemed a little too nice, a small tube of hand lotion was set on the counter, and a pair of shoes that seemed a little too small and a little too clean were (unlike Johnny's) placed on the Ikea shoe rack by the door.
Kyle's voice suddenly broke him from his thoughts, "thought ya 'ad a roommate soap? Where they at?"
"They're 'ere" Johnny chimed, closing the fridge door with his hip and pouring himself some juice "probably just in 'they room" he took one sip from the glass "hold on lads let me get 'em"
He rounded the corner into the small hallway and disappeared from Simon and Kyle's line of sight. Kyle looked over to the blonde, who had (for once) forgone his usual balaclava in favor of a simple black face mask, Simon just shrugged.
They heard the turning of a doorknob at the end of the hallway, the hinges squeaking as it began to open.
"Aye come out 'ere a sec-"
A high pitched, startled noise could be heard before..."JOHNNY WHAT THE FUCK MAN GET OUT!" your voice rang through the apartment clear as day.
Simon and Kyle's head's whipped around to face each other, suddenly all the pieces fell into place in Simon's head. Johnny's roommate was a chick.
"Sweet Jesus! Sorry lass didnae know ya were 'gon tae changin' in 'ere" Johnny blurted out apologetically.
"YEAH THATS WHY YOU KNOCK FIRST DUMBASS!" you continued to berate him as he stood in the door way with his hand covering eyes.
"Well how the 'ell was I 'sposed know what'chu was doin' in 'ere?" he fought back
"MAYBE BY NOT BARGING IN HERE OUT OF NOWHERE?!" Your voice strained with frustration and embarrassment
There was a brief moment of silence before-
"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU STILL STANDING HERE? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!" A small thud could be heard as one of your shirts collided with the side of his head.
"Okay, okay I'm goin'!" he closed the door "creepin' Jesus..." he sighed
He slowly rounded the corner back into the kitchen, holding your oversized T-shirt in one of his hands. He looked up to see the gobsmacked faces of his two friends
"Wot?"
"Could've at least told us 'yer rooming with a girl" Kyle muttered, looking sheepishly towards the tile floor
"Thought I mentioned that?" Johnny said plainly
"Well, ya didn't" Simon grumbled, pausing a moment before continuing "she certainly seems...spirited"
"Nah 'hat's nothin', you should see 'er when I eat 'er scraps" he smirked "just 'bout killed me last time"
Simon couldn't help but notice the glass Johnny had poured earlier, it seemed to be some sort of fruit juice cocktail, something his friend probably wouldn't have bought for himself...
"Well-" Johnny swung his arm out dramatically as he attempted to fill the silence. Yet in that moment, the bra that, unbeknownst to you, had been tucked within the shirt he was now holding, flew to the floor.
"Shit-" Johnny went to quickly pick it up as his two friends respectfully averted their gaze from your undergarments.
"Wait..." Johnny paused to look up at the both of them "is it weird fer me to go grabbin' at it?" He asked in full honesty
Disappointed looks are what greeted him,
"Mate-"
"Bruv..."
They heard your door open suddenly and all embarrassment was forgotten as your roommate quickly picked up the bra and folded it back into the shirt before setting it on the counter
"Seriously man what were you thinking? Going to have to get a lock if you keep this up. Anyway what were you-" you stopped as you rounded the corner to find not only your roommate, but two other large men in your living area.
"Oh!" You started "Hey..." you trailed off apprehensively
Simon and Kyle both got their first proper look at you. A tight tank top clung to your figure and loose sweatpants hung from your hips, your hair haphazardly tied up with strands poking out in every direction. It then became clear to them at that moment you had not been expecting any company.
Kyle cleared his throat, ready to introduce himself, but his friend beat him to it
"These are the lads 've told ya about" Johnny began with a boyish grin, gesturing widely to his two friends, as if he was showing them off.
"From work?" you questioned
"Yup"
You then looked back to the two men in question and they both instinctively stood up a bit straighter "Ghost and...Gaz? Right?" you asked, pointing from one to the other, tilting you head in a way that was undeniably adorable to all three of them.
"'hat's us" Kyle responded brightly "Soap 'as talked 'bout you but I never caught ya name"
You gave it to them with no hesitation, before turning to Johnny "soap?" You teased, cocking one eyebrow
"It's ma' call sign lass, didnae be makin' fun of it now" he shook his finger in your face
"Yeah sure it is" you brushed him off before your eyes met the cup on the counter, you slowly turned back to him,
"What did I say about drinking my shit?!" You questioned with an accusatory tone.
"Is' just a glass" Johnny whined
You delivered a a harsh slap to his bicep "if you're going to be drinking it tell me so I can buy more, I'm tired of runnin' to the store every other day" you sighed
You moved through the kitchen closer to Simon and Kyle, opening the fridge and scanning its contents before turning to the both of them "I'll be going out, you two want anything?" You asked
They both just looked at you completely speechless and slightly confused.
"What? I assume you are probably going to be staying this week while that idiot" you gestured with your thumb to Johnny "has time off, so ya want anything from the store?" Your intuition had to be applauded.
"No we're jus' fine" Simon finally spoke. His deep voice, though not shocking, still made your hair stand on end.
"Alright then" you clapped your hands and maneuvered yourself through the small space in between the two men, a shiver ran down their spine as your front and back brushed against each of their sides, respectively
"I'm going to the gym then I'll hit the store on the way back" you say over your shoulder, grabbing your shoes "you need anything Mactavish?"
"Get some-"
"-More of the juice and the butterscotch crisps?" You finished his sentence for him and he waved his hand dismissively "you're so predictable" you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips
Simon watched as the Johnny's mouth began to form a smile of his own "I 'ave to do the washing, you got any thing ya need cleaned?" He threw back
"Lights or colors?"
"Lights"
"Then wash that shirt I threw at you"
The wicked smile now fully formed on Johnny's face as his friends watched on in surprise and burning embarrassment.
"What 'bout this 'ere?" Johnny teased, now holding your light blue bra up for everyone to see, pinching one of the straps as if it were contaminated
"What are you-" Simon and Kyle watched the confused expression on your face turn into horror then very quickly into undeniable anger
You stormed back across the flat and snatched you bra from his hand "John Mactavish you disgusting little prick" you growled "I am going to kill you one of these days and let me promise you, it will be slow" you leaned over him and pointed a finger in this face, your hight difference forcing him to bend over backwards slightly.
You threw your bra back in your room and quickly stomped back to the door "I'll be back in a couple hours" you called over your shoulder "do me a favor and kick his shit in while I'm gone eh?" You smiled towards Simon and Kyle before shutting the door behind you.
A moment of silence fell over the three,
"So how long has she been 'aving to put up wit' yer ass?" Simon asked plainly
"Little over a year now...-- oye? Whatchu mean 'put up wit' me' I'm a delight to live with"
"Clearly" Kyle rolled his eyes
"Too bad she's got such an attitude" Johnny sighed "she'd be a bonnie lass if she quit yellin' all the damn time"
"I'm sure you give her plenty of reasons to" Kyle groaned and Simon just nodded in agreement
"Ay haud yer wheesht" Johnny bit back "'member who's puttin' you lads up for a week"
The banter continued but Simon could agree with his friend on at least one point, you were bloody stunning. He just couldn't get the quizzical look you had given him out of his head, nor the way you had said his call sign so plainly. 'What had soap told you 'bout him?' He really couldn't help but wonder, wonder and pray it was the good stuff. Though knowing soap, it probably wasn't. His call sign had sounded so sweet when it came from your lips, he needed to know how it would sound when you called him by his given name. What sort of faces would you make if he poked fun at you like soap did? what if he were to be sweet to you? Did you cook? If so he needed to taste it immediately. What kind of expression would you make when you're all relaxed? How would it feel to take those pouty, pursed lips against his own and-
'Nope nope nope', Simon physically shook the thought from his head, taking a deep breath to clear his mind. You were his friends roommate and who he would be living with for a week, he had to be respectful.
"You good mate?" Gaz asked
"Fine" he replied flatly
He couldn't really understand why but he wanted you to get home from whatever you were doing immediately, it was like a burning fire had suddenly started inside him and it could only be dowsed by seeing you and having you close to him.
Johnny knew that look in his Lieutenant's eyes, recognizing the faint emotion they betrayed
'Damn smitten bastard' Johnny huffed before showing them where they would be sleeping.
Uhhh I probably will make more for this soon so stick around<3
@yumethefrostypanda for the visual I used🫶
MY SHAYLAAAAAA
LOVE, VIOLET
pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 12.9k summary: history might say that you and vi were only best friends, but the real story is much more complicated. (or: you and vi celebrating valentine's day warning: friends to lovers arc, lots of sapphic yearning, brief mention of homophobia and bullying....but mostly cheesy domestic fluff and sappy lesbian monologues and lots of smut [oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), thigh riding, strap usage(r! receiving), needy+possessive! vi and slightly (?) dom! reader] (18+) ! a/n: happy (belated oops) valentine's day girls and gays <33 been working on this for a while and hoped to get it out like....actually in time for love day but such is life. ANYWAYS this is set in the same universe as this x-mas themed fic (and kinda a modern au of this one?? reader has the same nickname and there's a friends to lovers arc so....). hope y'all enjoy!!!!
♪: "glue song" by beabadoobee ft. clairo (sun); "home by now" by MUNA (moon); "love is a kaleidoscope" by chappell roan (rising)
also - header image was cropped from a gifset from @arcanegifs , pls check out their beautiful work !!!
track 1: “feeling you” by cat burns
(now)
"fuck, vi," you moan as her tongue splits your folds. "we don't have time for this...."
you have to get to studio and vi has to get to work, but the combination of the hot water hitting your skin and vi’s mouth on your cunt was something you did not want to give up just yet — even if you didn't want to admit it.
"baby," vi pouts, looking up at you innocently, as if she wasn't the one who decided to push you against the tile wall and get on her knees in front of you. "it was your idea to shower together this morning.”
"well, sorry for wanting to save water," you breathe, your grip tightening on her hair when she wraps her lips around your clit. "the planet is dying."
vi pulls away from you once more, lips shining with your slick. "well, excuse me for thinking you wanted to start today with a bit of romance. if all you care about is the environment...." she gets up and reaches behind you to turn off the water. "we better get going, pretty girl."
you whine at the sudden loss of warmth and clench your thighs together at the nickname, something that does not go unnoticed by vi. she licks her lips before leaning forward to kiss you, your back pushed against the cool tile once more and the taste of yourself faint on her tongue.
hearing your alarm go off reminds you that there are other responsibilities you each have to attend to. reluctantly, the two of you dry off and make your way to your shared bedroom. you put on a fuschia boyshort / bralette combo (your favorite set because, yes, it matches your girlfriend’s hair) before slipping on some dark jeans and a heart-printed turtleneck, and moving on to your makeup. in the meantime, vi had been in the kitchen making coffee, and reemerges now with two mismatched mugs. she sets one on the desk next to you, kisses the top of your head before getting herself ready for the day.
you swipe some eyeliner on your waterline, watching in the mirror as vi searches in the closet for something to wear, still only dressed in black briefs and a sports bra. you smile as you see the stars tattooed on her upper thigh, sparkling with every movement she makes. once she picks out an outfit, her eyes catch yours.
"what?" she asks with a lazy grin, slipping on a tight black henley.
you smile, adding some pink glitter to your eyelids.
it’s only been two weeks since you’ve moved into this new place. there are still plenty of unpacked boxes, and you still get a bit lost navigating around the neighbourhood, but otherwise, it’s been a dream.
you love seeing your clothes woven together in the same closet; you love waking up with her arm around your waist, doing laundry together, and coming home to vi having tried a new recipe for dinner. you love how you sometimes wear each other’s rings because you keep them all in a pile on the nightstand, how she falls asleep with her head in your lap during movie night, how her skin smells like the rose body wash you picked out together at lush.
you love this — this home you’re starting to build. you’ve known vi for so long, but your lives are intertwined now more than ever.
"nothing," you respond, finishing with a layer of vanilla lip gloss. "want me to do your eyeliner?”
it’s a familiar position: vi sits on the edge of the bed while you straddle her hips. she leans forward and presses a kiss to your sternum before you hold her chin between your thumb and pointer finger.
“so….tomorrow’s valentines day,” vi suddenly points out, though, really, you didn’t need the reminder.
you’d spent these past few years apart and this is your first valentine’s day since the break-up.
you both agreed — no pressure — but…..there’s definitely a bit of pressure. you’d been working on your gift for her for weeks, and you’re really hoping that she likes what you’ve planned.
“i thought it would be nice to get dinner tonight at bacchus. i called earlier this morning and got us a reservation for 7:30.”
you hum in appreciation.
vi might be taking a break from the band, but she’s still the violet lanes, the pink-haired rockstar of every lesbian’s dreams who’s written award-winning songs and sold out entire football stadiums. there are new perks of being her girlfriend this time around, like a nice apartment in new york and getting a day-of-reservation at the most expensive italian restaurant in the city.
“valentine’s day is tomorrow,” you repeat, a playful lilt to your words. you swipe your thumb near the corner of vi’s eye where you’d smudged an otherwise sharp wing of eyeliner. “someone’s eager to get a head start.”
with that, you snap the tube closed, press a kiss to the tattoo on vi’s cheek, and get up to gather your things for studio. you’re tucking your sketchbook into your messenger bag when you feel vi’s strong arms wrap around your middle.
“you always said i was impatient,” she teases. you can feel her smirk against the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear before pressing a gentle kiss to your skin and whispering: “can you blame me, stargirl? for wanting to get dressed all fancy and go somewhere nice and romantic with the prettiest girl in the world?”
“of course not.” you crane your neck back until your lips practically brush against hers as you speak. “except, you’re the prettiest in the world, baby.”
a beautiful blush spreads across vi’s freckled cheeks, the way it always has whenever you comment on vi’s beauty.
she clears her throat, still a bit flustered. “agree to disagree?”
you pretend to think about it for a second, nudging your nose against hers. “agree to disagree,” you reply, teasing her by continuing to hover above her lips, just a sliver of air between you.
yeah, vi’s impatient — but, sometimes, you love it. like, right now, when she turns you around to face her so she can close the gap, deepening the kiss by sliding her tongue into your mouth without any preamble.
vi groans as another alarm goes off from your phone. "i will never get used to how many alarms you set."
you giggle, and pull away slightly to swipe the cancel button. vi takes the opportunity to move your shirt slightly and leave bites on your exposed collarbone. you check the time on your phone.
you can spare a little more time. it is valentine’s day, after all.
(age 13)
“vi, your precious stargirl is on the phone for you!”
at the mention of your nickname, vi flinches, inadvertently failing to dodge a lethal attack. green goblin crashed his glider into her spiderman avatar, and the words GAME OVER fill the screen in an angry red font.
vi groans, throwing her playstation controller on the couch before heading to the kitchen.
powder is sitting on the counter, twirling the telephone cord around her finger and yapping away before vi takes her place.
“hey.” vi clears her throat, tries to sound casual. “what’s up?”
“so, my mom promised to make something for ekko’s valentine’s class party, but she just got called in for a shift….which means i’m stuck baking 30 rainbow confetti cupcakes, and hoping i don’t give any eight year olds food poisoning. you doing anything right now?”
“oh - i’m actually, uh, busy! i have homework, and….”
and she’s busy avoiding you, ever since she heard something about you — from drea, of all people — and wondered why you wouldn’t confide in her, your supposed best friend.
“please, vi,” you coax. vi’s heart beats a bit quicker as she pictures your bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “can you come over and help me bake? it feels like forever since we’ve actually hung out. i miss you.”
vi is certainly not god’s strongest soldier when it comes to you, so of course, she caves. rainbow confetti cake is her favorite, so that’s a bonus. she and powder throw on their coats and head next door to yours; powder and ekko keep each other company in the living room while vi joins you in the kitchen.
“hey,” she greets.
“there you are!” your face lights up with the sweetest smile, causing the butterflies in her stomach to flap up a storm.
gods — do you realize the effect you have on her?
there’s already flour dusting your cheek; vi has to resist the urge to brush it away with her thumb, wanting to feel how soft your skin must be.
she snaps out of it though, as you instruct her on what needs to be done, and the two of you work in a comfortable silence, the sounds of your siblings watching cartoons in the other room filling the space between you. at one point, probably realizing that vi isn’t in the mood for talking, you switch on the radio. vi catches you smiling at her as she hums along to freddie mercury, but you’re quick to blink away and get back to work.
you’re sifting confectioner’s sugar into room temperature butter for the icing while vi slides the first batch of cupcakes in the oven, starts prepping the second, her mind starting to wander.
you and vi are playing the leads for your final english project, where you have to reenact scenes from romeo and juliet. powder caught the two of you rehearsing last week, and spent the whole night singing that stupid playground chant. now vi can’t get it out of her head: you and her, sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G —
“the rumor’s not true, by the way,”
vi looks at you as she pours batter into another cupcake liner, which accidentally overflows onto the counter.
“shit,” she groans, but you slide over to the other side of the kitchen counter to bring her a towel.
you don’t elaborate on what you’ve just brought up as you wipe up the thick batter. vi figures you’re waiting for her to say something.
“what rumor?”
it was never vi’s instinct to play pretend with you, but frankly she had no idea what else to do without letting her emotions burst into flames and inevitably burn you.
“vi,” you sigh. “i know you’ve heard it. the whole school has. it’s not true, though. i wasn’t kissing james.”
oh. the spark of envy in her gut simmers down.
“did he ask you to the sweetheart dance?”
you shake your head, and the spark extinguishes completely. “even if he did….i wouldn’t want to go with him.”
“why’s that? not your type?”
you finish wiping the counter, and vi takes the now-sticky towel from you to rinse it out in the sink. as she does this, you get back to frosting duty, stirring in some pink food colouring.
“drea saw me kissing someone with dark brown hair,” you explain. “so isabel started told her that it was james, and that’s what she’s been telling everyone. but really….it was her.”
vi blinks at you. “her?”
“yeah, her,” you smile hesitantly.
“you were kissing isabel?”
isabel was the prettiest girl in eighth grade — though, according to vi, you’d have that ranking, and it would go way beyond the scope of your middle school. you’re the prettiest girl in the world; not that vi would ever have the courage to tell you that.
you nod. “you’re not, like, weirded out that i like kissing girls, are you?”
“what? no, of course not! especially since….i, uh, i like kissing girls too.”
in theory. vi likes to imagine kissing girls, especially when they look like korra from the legend of korra, or shego from kim possible, or hayley kiyoko in lemonade mouth.
or….you.
vi watches intently as you — a very pretty, very real girl — swipe your finger through the fluffy pink frosting and taste it, flashing her a sugary smile.
“good to know.”
(age 16)
when josie asked her out, vi had completely neglected the fact that dinner on friday would mean dinner on february 14th.
which is how vi finds herself getting ready for a date with someone she met during your short-lived attempt at starting an all female fight boxing club. josie is sweet and vi felt bad cancelling on her, so like the gentleman she is, vi promised to pick her up at 7:30pm. on friday, february 14th.
it’s 6:44pm, and vi is in your room. you helped her pick out an outfit — something nice but not too formal — and you’ve moved on to makeup, carefully applying her eyeliner.
vi tries not to stare at your lips — which are slightly red from the cinnamon hearts you’ve been eating — so she keeps squirming, and you keep gently guiding her chin towards you. her eyes wander to your decorated walls, filled with posters and photos and other things you’ve collected throughout the years. she’s featured in quite a few, and she catches a glimpse of an old valentine card she’d given you in elementary school.
“it’s weird that we won’t be spending valentine’s day together,” you comment as though reading her mind.
you’d never spend the holiday as anything other than friends, but it does still feel strange, not spending it with someone she knows for sure she loves.
(again — like a friend loves a friend.)
“yeah, definitely,” vi agrees. “do you have anything planned for tonight?”
“huge plans, actually.” you pop another cinnamon heart in your mouth. “i’ve got a super romantic date with the prettiest girl in the world.”
vi tilts her head in confusion — did you mention this to her? — which causes you to shake your head with a lighthearted laugh and guide her towards you once more.
“really? with who?”
you roll your eyes. “i’m kidding!”
“oh.”
“it’s cute how gullible you are,” you whistle. by now, you’re done with her eyes and move on to dusting her cheeks with some sort of shimmery powder. “i’m probably just gonna put on a rom-com and finish — well, start — writing my english essay on romantic literature. lowercase ‘r,’ because ms. chavez was feeling festive. i’m leaning more modernist, but that’s only because i want to write about virginia woolf.”
it’s inching towards when vi should leave, but vi doesn’t care what time it is — she’d listen to you talk forever if she could.
“what’s it about?”
you pull away to examine vi’s makeup one last time.
“the movie, or my essay?” you nod once in approval and give the compact you’re holding to vi so she can take a look. “you look beautiful, by the way.”
vi watches her reflection blush, almost enhanced by the makeup you put on her.
“thanks, stargirl.” vi clears her throat and decides to get back to your original conversation. “the movie and your essay, i guess.”
you offer vi a cinnamon heart, which she accepts, the candy burning sweet on her tongue. you then reach into your backpack, for the ring pop that vi had left in your locker this morning, just before you handed her a box of rainbow confetti cupcakes. you slip the candied jewellery onto your right ring finger before answering.
“i want to analyse the letters between virginia woolf and this other writer — vita sackville-west. they’re essentially love letters, but, you know.” you give an exaggerated shrug. “history says they were only best friends. at least, according to ms. chavez’s interpretations, along with most of the class.”
vi chuckles. “thankfully, you’re here to prove them all wrong.”
“exactly.” you nudge your shoulder against vi’s, the feeling of your body familiar next to hers. “and, for the movie, i’m thinking when harry met sally, which i remember watching with you for the first time.”
vi definitely remembers watching that with you, too. the whole question of whether or not men and women can be friends without romance getting in the way brought up another, much more relevant question in vi’s mind: can two sapphic women be friends without any complicated feelings?
it’s definitely possible.
“so….you excited for this date?”
vi shrugs. “yeah.”
“wow. i totally believe that,” you say, words dripping with sarcasm.
“it’s just….it’s valentine’s day,” vi whispers. she starts fiddling with one of her rings — you’d gotten it for her last valentine’s day, a silver thumb ring with a star in the middle. “what if she wants to kiss me tonight?”
“well, you kiss her back, if that’s what you want.”
“that’s what i want,” she responds, way too quickly to be true. “it’s just — i’m not sure i’ll be any good.”
“you’ll be fine,” you assure.
“but — i mean, i’ve never…..”
“oh.” your eyes widen and your lips part in shock, the blue-raspberry of the ring pop turning them from red to purple that’s intoxicatingly close to violet. “oh.”
“what! it’s not, like the end of the world.”
“of course not! it’s just — you’ve gone out with a bunch of girls, so i just figured….”
vi shakes her head, her cheeks heating up. “guess i never found the right one. i know it’s cliche, but i kinda wanted my first kiss to be —”
“special?” you guess, and vi nods.
“and now, there’s all this pressure, i’m worried that i won’t be good.”
you clear your throat. “right. well, if it helps relieve the pressure….i could show you….how.”
“show me?”
“well — i mean, like teach you, i guess. plus, then i can let you know whether you’re, like, a good kisser or not.”
that’s how you find yourself practically in vi’s lap, slotting your lips between hers. it started off with a quick peck, but clearly, you’ve both decided that this lesson requires a bit more.
every single one of vi’s senses is heightened: the stickiness of your glossed lips, the sugar on your tongue, the giggles rumbling through you and bouncing down vi’s throat. time seems to slow down — no, freeze entirely — which is a stark contrast to the burning in her lungs.
needing air, vi pulls away.
“h-how was that?” she breathes, her words warming your mouth.
“good.” you smile, almost shy. you’re so close together that vi can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. “maybe….a bit gentler this time.”
“gentler?”
“slower,” you suggest.
so, you kiss again. gentler, this time.
“your lips are a bit chapped,” is your next note. you reach for the tube of lip gloss in your pocket. “can i?”
“go ahead, stargirl,” vi whispers. “you’re the expert.”
you paint a layer of sticky vanilla glitter onto vi’s lips.
“there,” you sit back after swiping your thumb underneath vi’s bottom lip.
vi blinks at you. her lips feel like they’re coated in honey. “how do i look?”
“really pretty,” you reply, with a small smile. you sigh, glancing at the scooby-doo alarm clock on your nightstand, the one you’ve had since you were six years old. “you better go. have a good time with josie, okay?”
“okay.” vi gets up and grabs her jacket, tugs on her shoes. “and, thanks again for, well, you know.”
you shrug. “that’s what best friends are for. happy valentine’s, vi.”
vi hesitates just as she’s about to climb out your window. “look, stargirl, i don’t have to – i mean, i’m perfectly happy canceling my, uh, date, and just hanging out with you.”
“you’re sweet, vi, but i’ll be fine. go — have fun.” you walk closer to her so you can slip your tube of lipgloss into vi’s button down shirt pocket. you pat her chest affectionately. “and remember to be gentle, yeah?”
later, when she’s making out with josie in the backseat of her dad’s car, vi tries not to think about your soft voice guiding her through the movements, or the dizzying taste of your lips — cinnamon hearts and sour candy and sweet, sweet vanilla.
history might say that you and vi are only best friends, but the real story is much more complicated.
___
[image: a cartoon scooby-doo, holding a bouquet of hearts. the message reads: BE MY VALENTINE!]
to: stargirl <3
from: vi
___
track 2: “you’re my best friend” by queen
(age 7)
“mom?”
“yeah, kiddo?”
“can you be in love with your best friend?”
her mom, felicia, smiles knowingly, the question hanging in the air until the end of song. it’s part of an old mixtape that felicia plays sometimes, mostly glam rock like queen and david bowie. she put it on this afternoon while her and vi get ready for the valentine’s class party tomorrow. vi scribbles names on cards while her mom fills clear heart-printed bags with candy. powder’s fallen asleep on her lap.
“definitely,” felicia finally answers, reaching over to tap vi’s nose playfully. “love, violet, can be a million different things. that’s the fun part.”
felicia pinches vi’s cheek affectionately. vi frowns, thinking about this whole love thing.
love is definitely not the next classmate whose name she’s writing — drea, who always cheats during sports and teases vi for being a tomboy. she’s tempted to just leave her out, but the policy of ms. julie’s second grade class is that everyone needs to get a valentine. so, that’s not love, either.
instead, vi thinks of her family — her mom, vander, powder, and even ekko; movie nights and lively dinners and warm hugs. she thinks of her friends — mylo and claggor; laughter and skinned knees and running so fast it feels like flying.
when she thinks of you, though, her heart beats differently.
vi thinks about how you always carry around a spiderman bandaid because she always scrapes herself during recess, and the nurse only carries plain, boring bandages. she thinks about how you ‘accidentally’ spill paint on drea’s art project after she calls vi mean names.
she thinks about how you doodle on her arms during math or braid her hair as you watch cartoons and eat sugary cereal on saturday mornings.
she thinks about the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear, the perpetual marker stains on your hands, the dimple on your cheek.
you’re her best friend, and your smile alone wakes up a million butterflies in her stomach.
vi’s mom suggested spiderman valentine’s cards, but vi wanted to pick out something that you’d like; vi knows that scooby-doo is your favorite show, so that’s what she went with. she adds a ring pop to your bag of candy, because she knows they’re your favorite candy. she adds a little heart by your nickname, too.
the next day, everyone is decorating their shoeboxes, transforming them into mailboxes before exchanging valentines. vi’s hands are sticky with glitter glue when you walk over — ms. julie said that you and vi distracted each other, so she assigned you to desks on opposite sides of the room.
“happy valentine’s day, vi,” you say, sliding a card into her mailbox and smiling ear to ear before moving on to the next person. vi eagerly reaches in for the valentine.
it’s spiderman-themed, and there’s a heart next to her name.
(now)
when you walk through the door, you’re engulfed in the scent of warm garlic bread and sweet, ripe tomatoes. the restaurant is bustling with waiters delivering colourful dishes, everyone wearing crisp suits and silk dresses. someone’s playing piano, soft music dancing throughout the room, and the overhead lights are dimmed, with each table illuminated by a candle in the centre.
the maître d' greets you with a welcoming smile and settles you into a table. once they’re gone, vi reaches across the table for your hand.
“you look beautiful, stargirl.”
vi’s skin is always warm, but the cool metal of her thumb ring sends a shiver through you as she brushes over your knuckles. the flame between you flickers, darkening vi’s powder blue eyes as she gazes at you lovingly.
“you let me borrow your clothes,” you point out. “i’m wearing one of your suits.”
“what can i say….” vi winks, releasing your hand so she can open the menu in front of her. “i have good taste. looks better on you, anyways.”
“were you always this much of a flirt?” you tease.
vi smirks. “like a fine wine, i just get better with age.”
“you are so corny,” you say with a slight laugh.
“well, some people do think my love songs are cheesy.”
“even the ones written about me?”
vi looks up from her menu, one eyebrow raised. “baby, they’re all about you.”
your cheeks heat up at vi’s confession, and you take a sip from your glass, ice water trickling down your throat, in hopes of steadying your heartbeat.
a waiter comes by; you each order pasta dishes and vi orders a bottle of wine for the table. the wine arrives quickly, but given how busy the restaurant is, you anticipate the food will take longer.
you fill the time easily, catching each other up on the details of your lives since this morning. you start by telling her how hectic your art studio has been as you prepare for your big spring exhibition, but how excited everyone is. you’re especially excited since you get to explore different mediums along the way; these past few weeks, you’ve been learning how to use a pottery wheel. you went through the final step of the process today — glazing — and you’re happy at the end product.
“i don’t think i’m gonna include it in my exhibit, though,” you conclude.
“well, it’d be nice to have some of your art on display all the time.” vi smiles. “you should bring whatever you made home.”
“that’s the idea,” you muse, a twinkle in your eyes as you take a sip of wine. “how was your day?”
vi started teaching guitar at the local community centre. some adults take lessons, but it’s mostly little kids with too much energy and too little patience. still, no matter how chaotic it can be, it’s clear that vi has been loving her job.
“i swear, this one girl, marceline, is a budding rockstar. i taught her a jimi hendrix song and she picked it up —” vi snaps her fingers, smiling proudly. “like that. such a talented kid.”
“you would know, pretty girl,” you praise.
your waiter arrives to bring plates full of pasta. you and vi thank them, your stomach grumbling at the delicious smell, a reminder that you had barely eaten all day. you’re so ready to dig into some quality fettuccine alfredo.
you and vi eat in a comfortable silence, until you hear an unfortunately familiar voice grate at your ears:
“oh my god, it is you! i saw you from the other side of the restaurant and just had to come over and say hi!”
you don’t need to glance to know who it is, but you do anyways, and so does vi. your stomach drops as you watch her bite back a scoff before turning back to her food.
“hi, drea,” vi clips before taking a big gulp of wine. she continues eating, barely sparing the woman another glance.
drea continues to hover. she’s wearing dark lipstick, her black hair cut into a classic bisexual bob, and her amber eyes silently pleading at you to break the ice.
“hey, drea,” you greet with a stiff smile, and drea relaxes her shoulders at your veil of friendliness.
“nice earrings,” she winks, reaching over to tap the dangling purple gem. “thought you might have gotten rid of them after we broke up.”
vi chokes on a sip of wine. “broke up?” vi coughs, reaches for her water glass. “since when did you two date?”
you open your mouth to respond, but drea beats you to it, clearly too focused on being the centre of attention.
“maybe like a year or so ago.” drea turns to you. “right, starlight?”
vi’s jaw clenches, and she drops her fork, metal clattering against the plate.
“starlight?”
“yeah, because of the star-shaped birthmark behind her —”
“i know,” vi snaps. her eyes are locked on you, and slightly glazed over. “you never told me you dated drea.”
“i-it was only 3 months,” you stutter.
“that hurts,” drea groans, clutching her heart. she always did have a flair for the dramatic. “it was 4 months, babe.”
“you dated for 4 months, and i’m just hearing about it now?” vi seethes, trying to keep her voice low. the tables around you have already taken note that something is happening, though, their conversations hushing down to an idle whisper. “did you somehow forget how much of an asshole she was in high school?”
“um, i’m right here?” drea chides, still not taking the hint that neither of you are interested in a happy reunion.
“we need a minute,” you and vi say simultaneously. drea rolls her eyes and mutters something you don’t care to hear; you’re too concerned with explaining yourself to vi, whose cheeks are burning with a deep shade of red. whether it’s jealousy, anger, or embarrassment, you’re not quite sure.
“vi, just let me —”
you reach out for her hand, but as soon as you make contact, vi pulls away abruptly.
“i…i need….to not be here right now,” vi mutters. the last thing she wants is to make headlines tomorrow morning — violet lanes, caught having argument with girlfriend at upscale restaurant during on valentine’s eve. flip to page 6 for the full story! — so, she gets up and slips on her jacket.
“please, baby, let’s talk about this —”
“order dessert, if you want. don’t rush home.”
her voice cracks at that last word before she storms out the door, leaving you with two unfinished meals and stomach heavy with regret.
___
[image: notebook opened to a page filled with chaotic, scribbled writing]
FOR STARGIRL (FINAL DRAFT!!! COME UP WITH TITLE LATER!??!!)
i’m stuck on you, baby
you taught me what love is
sugary sweet kisses,
frosting on your lips;
first tattoos,
promises on our skin
i’m stuck on you, baby
have been since we were kids
you’re not just the sun or the moon
you’re all my stars
know that i’ll love you
wherever we are
___
track 3: “true romantic” by indigo girls
(age 18)
the auditorium is decorated with red and pink streamers, heart garlands and bouquets of roses. a red spotlight shines on the stage, painting each performer with a pink hue. there are small tables and chairs arranged to make the space feel more like a parisian cafe, instead of where drama club rehearses for the spring musical.
you’re sitting at one of the tables, inhaling all the free coffee and pastries you possibly can and chatting with viktor and jayce, like you’ve done for the past three years at your highschool’s annual valentine’s day coffeehouse.
the first time vi performed, during your freshman year, she was all nerves, her fingers fumbling at chords and voice trembling through the lyrics of a joan jett song she had played for you perfectly that morning. when her eyes landed on yours in the crowd, you gave her a thumbs-up — you’d been just friends at the time, after all — and vi seemed to warm up, finishing to enthusiastic applause.
now, vi walks on with confidence right away, electric guitar the same pink as her hair, with a constellation of stars scribbled on its body with black sharpie. she’s grown out her hair, still keeping it shorter on one side to display her growing collection of piercings. the newest addition is a silver loop in her nostril, which glints underneath the spotlight as she leans closer to the mic. she’s wearing lowrise jeans and showcasing a sliver of her hips; you can’t help but think about what’s hidden just a bit lower, the stars sparkling along her upper thigh, etched into her skin at the same time you got violets blooming between your ribs.
“hey everyone. most of you know me as the captain of our hockey team —”
beside you, jayce whistles and there’s a scattering of applause for the team, who just made it to nationals. vi landed an athletic scholarship, too, to play at university of piltover. even though you have a hard time picturing your girlfriend as an enforcer, you’re so proud of her. plus, it’s only a twenty minute drive from zaun university, where you’ve decided to go so you could be close to your family.
“but, i’ve been writing songs, too,” vi continues. “i realized that i’ve gotten up here every year to sing someone else’s love song to a girl i’ve had a crush on since before i even knew what a crush was. but this is a song i’ve been writing, for and about her, for years. and now that we’re actually dating….well, i wanted to do something special for our first valentine’s day. ” vi looks at you with a toothy grin, and you blow her a kiss. “wait, actually, can we get a spotlight on my girlfriend? right there?”
vi gestures in your general direction, and suddenly you feel the heat of the spotlight and 50 pairs of eyes on you. your cheeks flush at the attention, but you play along and wave nonetheless.
“there she is,” vi gushes. “my beautiful stargirl. i wrote this song —”
“oh my god, we came here for music, not your sappy lesbian monologue!” drea, current goalie of zaun high’s hockey team and perpetual pain in vi’s ass, groans. “hurry up and play the song already!”
one of the teachers hushes the bubbling laughter, and it dies down just as quickly as it emerged.
vi rolls her eyes. “as i was saying, i wrote this song-slash-sappy-lesbian-monologue for you, stargirl. i hope you like it. happy valentine’s day.”
you don’t know what makes your heart soar more — the sweet lyrics falling from the lips of the girl you love, or the girl herself.
later, vi is falling asleep in the middle of chemistry class when she hears a light clink against the window. she glances outside and sees you waving at her, smile as bright as a shooting star. you have paint stains on your jeans that weren’t there earlier and you’re gesturing at her to follow you. vi just shrugs and nods her chin towards the front of the class.
your bottom lip juts out into a pout, and you curve your hands into a heart before disconnecting them. vi snorts at your antics.
“ms. lanes, are my slides on organic compounds amusing to you?”
“uh, no mr. michaels. of course not.” vi clears her throat, whips her head back towards the smartboard. “may i, uh, go to the bathroom?”
vi checks her phone as soon as she closes the door behind her.
stargirl
hurry UP!!!
dyke spiderman <3
easy romeo
i’m omw
where should i meet u???
stargirl
our spot
“wait!” you call as soon as vi reaches the bottom of the staircase and starts to turn the corner. “close your eyes!”
“how’d you know it was me?” vi laughs, but does as she’s told nonetheless.
“the axe body spray is a pretty dead giveaway,” you deadpan.
“hey, i stopped using that in middle school. can i look now?”
you ask her to wait one more time. vi feels you shift behind her, wrap your arms around her waist. on instinct, vi reaches a hand down and laces her fingers through yours, your skin slick and cold.
“okay,” you whisper, your breath hot against her ear. “open your eyes.”
and when she does, vi is glad that you’re holding her, because she’s suddenly weak in the knees at what’s gracing the wall before her: a small mural reminiscent of klimt’s famous painting, ‘the kiss’. except — it’s the two of you, surrounded by stars and violets.
“happy valentine’s day, vi.”
you untangle yourself from her, but vi doesn’t let go of your hand, even when she realizes it’s wet with fresh paint.
“you….you did this?”
“yeah.”
“wow….it’s amazing. beautiful.”
vi squeezes your hand, still in awe at how you beautifully swirled together each color, the loving expressions you managed to portray with each delicate stroke of your paintbrush.
“i’m glad you like it.”
“like it? i love….” she turns to you. “i love it. you didn’t have to do all this though, it must have taken you forever.”
“you’re worth it,” you muse. “like you said — it’s our first valentine’s day. as a couple at least. i wanted to do something special. i made us a playlist, too.”
so, even though it means she’s skipping chem and you’re skipping history, the two of you curl underneath the staircase, a pair of earbuds split between you.
“i’m gonna miss seeing you every day after we graduate.”
vi hums in agreement. she gently lifts your head from her shoulder, holding your chin between her thumb and pointer finger. “you know i’ll love you wherever we are, right?”
“i know, i heard you early on stage,” you swoon, settling back against her shoulder. “seemed a bit dramatic for only being, like, 20 minutes away from each other. though, i guess that is the farthest apart we’ve ever been.”
vi takes a deep breath, as your fingers dance along the doodles decorating her skin, the ones you had drawn on in sharpie during calculus. “except…. it might be further than that, depending on how things go.”
your pointer finger pauses halfway through an outline of a heart. “what do you mean?”
“i’m, uh….i don’t want to go to university of piltover. actually, i don’t want to go to college at all. i turned down the scholarship; made the official decision two weeks ago after the big game.”
“you did what?”
“i wanna move to l.a. or london, pursue this whole music thing. i think it could really take me places.”
“right,” you clip.“and why are you just bringing this up now? have you told vander? have you talked to anyone before making a huge, life-changing decision?”
you continue shaking your head in disbelief as you gather your backpack and turn the corner, emerging from underneath the staircase; vi follows you.
“no, but it’s my life — and i know what i want.”
“and it’s always about what you want, right?” you scoff.
“what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“it’s just — did you ever think about your family in all this? how powder might feel having her sister so far away just as she’s starting high school?”
“i’ve spent the past 13 years of my life worrying about powder, taking care of her especially after our mom died,” vi reasons, trying to keep her voice steady. “i need a break. my dreams are bigger than this town.”
“do you…” you trail off, hesitant to even speak the words aloud, but the coil in your gut tells you it’s unavoidable. “do you need a break from us?”
“stargirl.” vi whispers your nickname like a promise itching to be broken. “i thought you’d love having a rockstar girlfriend,” she teases, trying to lighten the mood.
“don’t,” you grumble, brows furrowed. “if you wanted to make things work between us, you would have at least talked to me about this.”
“i am talking to you,” vi counters. she grabs her hands in yours. you pull away.
“but, you spent these past two weeks listening to me imagine our future together, while you had already made other plans. what does that say about our actual future?”
before vi can respond, someone clears their throat from the top of the staircase. your principal, looking down on you with an expression that can only be described as disinterested, addressing you by your last names.
“pro tip,” she continues. “if you want to skip class and have a lover’s quarrel, make sure it’s not somewhere that carries sound directly to the office.”
you and vi get assigned detention that afternoon. you’re told to sit on opposite sides of the room, but that doesn’t stop vi from throwing a crumpled ball of paper your way.
glancing over at your girlfriend, you have to admit that you find yourself melting at those puppy dog eyes of hers, pleading and so full of love as she waits for you to respond to her message.
even though the future feels uncertain, you scribble something back, then toss the paper towards her desk discreetly. it lands on the floor. vi unfolds it and smiles as she reads the note, cheeks tinted a light rose.
___
[image: a crumpled ball of paper. unfold it, and it reads….]
(in hot pink gel pen)
I WANT TO MAKE THINGS WORK BETWEEN US
I LOVE YOU
(in black sharpie)
I LOVE YOU TOO
OF COURSE WE’LL MAKE IT WORK
I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A ROCK STAR GF, BTW
BUT ONLY IF SHE’S AS HOT AS YOU
___
track 4: “home by now” by MUNA
(age 21)
“wait, hold on — what does that sign say?”
violet lanes, will you be my valentine?
“i’m flattered,” vi chuckles. “but, sorry ladies — i’m a happily taken woman. i’ve got a pretty girl waiting for me in the crowd.”
“and, lemme just say, it’s a good thing we’ve all got separate hotel rooms this time,” caitlyn groans.
vi rolls her eyes. “anyways. this is a very special night because it’s the first time my girlfriend is watching us perform live! she’s over there, looking as beautiful as ever. everyone, say hi!”
the spotlight shines on you, and you giggle shyly. the necklace she’d given you this morning practically glows between your collarbones, illuminates your skin with a violet hue.
“isn’t she the cutest?” vi gushes. “the first time i performed this next song was to celebrate our first valentine’s day as a couple. and — fun little easter egg — when we released this as a single, the cover was a painting she had made for me on that same day. she’s just so talented, kicking ass at this fancy art program….she’s basically the frida kahlo to my joan jett…..and i’m just rambling, now, sorry guys. i could probably talk about my girl all day.”
“oh, and she does,” maddie grumbles.
“the fans love sappy-lesbian-monologues, don’t they?” the crowd roars, and vi flashes maddie a winning smirk. “so, yeah, i love my girlfriend every day, of course, but today it’s with roses and ring pops and those cheesy cards kids hand out to each other in elementary school. happy valentine’s day, stargirl. this one’s called — stuck on you.”
when the show’s over, and the band’s played not one, but two encores, you’re flinging your arms around vi’s neck before she even has the chance to put down her guitar. she’s all sweaty, white tank top sticking to her torso. her ears are still ringing and her throat a bit sore, but all vi cares about is the feelings of your soft lips kissing across her cheeks.
“you’re so fucking amazing,” you gush, pecking her lips delicately. “i mean, i’ve seen you play before, but never like this! vi, you’re….wow. electric, fucking radiant. you must be exhausted, though, ahh —”
vi kisses you, sweaty and breathless, until she’s practically sucked all the air from your lungs.
“not at all,” she replies with a cocky grin. “we’ve got all night and i’m not planning on getting any sleep.”
“ugh, gross. get a room,” caitlyn scoffs, playful but with a bit of an edge.
“oh, we will,” you reply coolly. maybe you’re a bit jealous with how seamlessly caitlyn fits into vi’s new life, how much she’s able to see your girlfriend much more than you’re able to. she hasn’t been particularly friendly since you’ve gotten here, and she’s been a bit too touchy with vi in the tabloids lately. “i’m guessing you don’t have any valentine’s plans?”
caitlyn narrows her eyes at you.
vi laughs, probably about to make a lighthearted comment to diffuse the tension between you and caitlyn, but she’s called aside by their manager for a quick chat before she gets the chance.
“i’ll be right back. cait, stargirl — play nice,” she advises, like you’re children fighting on the playground.
once she’s gone, caitlyn’s frown turns into a smirk.
“stargirl, huh? guess that explains her thigh tattoo. i didn’t think vi was that sentimental, though, so it must have been at your request.”
you straighten your back, trying to mirror caitlyn’s combative confidence. “i think i know her better than you.”
“maybe before, when you were kids growing up in that nothing town. things change, darling. people change — who they are and what they want. if i were you, i’d accept that sooner rather than later,” caitlyn snarks as she finally walks away, bumping your shoulder just as vi returns to the pair of you.
you don’t quite have the time to register the interaction, not with vi intertwining her fingers with yours and tugging you towards her body.
“let’s get out of here, yeah?” she brushes some hair behind your ear. “we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”
and, there was so much time to make up for — the days that have turned into weeks, turned into months, turned into years since you’d last seen each other in person, sometimes only speaking to each other once every month, for only two minutes at a time.
you’d gotten so used to being apart that being together feels like a dream.
vi’s warm body presses against yours, barely making it to the bed. you just couldn’t resist pushing her against the door of the hotel room as soon as you were inside, lodging your thigh between her legs.
“i, uh, i have a surprise for you,” vi breathes, groaning as you hum and start to suck bruises down her neck.
“yeah? what is it, pretty girl?”
blushing and slightly flustered at the nickname, vi removes her shirt and sits back on the bed, gesturing at you to follow her. you hover on top of her and take in her naked form.
“you…got your nipples pierced.”
vi grins.
“can i touch them?”
she nods enthusiastically. you brush your thumb over one and she shivers, causing you to pull away.
“no, it’s okay,” she assures, guiding your hand back towards her. “feels good.”
you start kissing her again. “you’re so fucking beautiful.” until you reach her chest. “can i?”
vi blinks up at you, eyes glazed over with honeyed want. “please. f-fuck,” vi moans when you latch your mouth to her nipple, rolling the cold, silver piercing along your tongue.
“you’re so sensitive,” you coo. you release her nipple with a pop, a string of saliva still connecting it to your wet lips. your fingers slip underneath vi’s underwear, gliding through her soft curls and down into her sticky heat. “so wet. you really missed me, yeah?”
“course i did, stargirl,” vi lets out a shaky laugh. “i want to show you just how much.”
you pout, and vi has the urge to capture that beautiful bottom lip of yours between her teeth. “but i wanted to show you how much i missed you.”
“well, like i said — we have all night.”
three orgasms later, and you’re nearing the point of exhaustion, but you’re determined to keep going, if anything because of how full you feel with vi’s fingers fucking into you at a truly impressive pace. the pads of her fingers are rougher than before, calluses from playing guitar so often, but she still knows exactly how to curl and curve them in every way that makes you unravel. her lips are shining with your cum, and you still taste her sweetness on your tongue.
she grinds her bare cunt against the soft skin of your thigh as she brings you closer and closer to your peak while desperately chasing hers.
“you close, pretty girl? gonna cum for me again?”
vi whines, nods eagerly. “i’m so fucking close. fuck — i don’t know what i’d do without you.”
you groan when vi starts sucking at your pulsepoint, running her tongue over the chain of your new necklace. you reach a hand up to tug at her hair, gently coaxing her to look at you.
“don’t worry about that,” you promise. vi takes a deep breath as though inhaling your words and buries her face in the crook of your neck, butterfly lashes fluttering closed and tickling the skin behind your ear. “you’re being so good for me, so messy.”
“s-sorry,” vi sniffles, blood rushing to her cheeks. her body stills while she moves to meet your gaze, her puppy dog eyes shining with desire and desperation.
you shake your head and dig your fingers into the plush of her hips, urging her to keep going.
“i love it,” you clarify, prompting vi’s face to brighten, her smile pure sunlight and sugar.
you run your thumb over the scar on her lip that stretches with such familiarity, before crashing your lips against hers. vi welcomes your slick tongue into her mouth, swirling around every crevice until your tastes combine into one. the knot in your abdomen tightens and you, somewhat reluctantly, pull away to admire your girlfriend.
“i love how gorgeous you look on top of me, fucking me while using my body to get yourself off,” you continue, words flowing from your mouth like thick, sickly-sweet nectar. “i want you to cum with me one more time, yeah?”
vi whimpers into the crook of your neck, the vibrations intensifying the waves of pleasure crashing throughout your body. it doesn’t take long for vi to feel you clench around her fingers, and for you to feel her gush against your skin, staining the bedspread beneath your entangled bodies.
vi pulls away her fingers — you whimper this time at the sudden emptiness — but she places the softest kiss on your lips as an apology before adjusting to lay down on her side. she nestles into the curve between your neck and shoulder. her teeth graze your pulsepoint as you run your hand through her damp hair.
you should probably take a shower — the two of you drenched in each other’s sweat and saliva and cum — but all you want to do is to melt against her. maybe if you stay in bed, then time will slow down.
“i wish you could stay longer.”
“me too,” you whisper, idly tracing your fingers down her body.
“you know, the art scene in this city is amazing,” she mumbles. “lot of galleries where you could show your work. nice, big apartments where you could have your own private studio space. you could move here after graduation.”
you laugh. “maybe in another life, where i could afford a place in new york. plus, at this point, i think it’d be best for me to move home after i graduate. but, hypothetically speaking — yeah, that would be cool.”
“well, hypothetically speaking, you would share rent with the pink-haired butch of your dreams.”
“you mean the one whose cum is drying on my thigh right now?”
“the very same,” vi nods with a cheeky grin. she throw her arm around your waist, pulling you in closer.
you nudge your nose against hers. “paint me a picture — what does this dream life with my dream girl look like?”
“well, we get a place in an artsy neighbourhood, obviously, surrounded by a strong, welcoming community of queer artists, who are all quirky and colorful in their own way.”
“we’d actually be friends with our neighbours — host dinner parties and have movie nights and dance all night at gay bars. our apartment would have an open-floor plan, and we’d have big windows that give us a ton of light and a great view.”
“a beautiful kitchen, too. one that’s a little outdated, but we prefer the term charming,” vi adds. “and there are always fresh flowers on the counter, in a gorgeous vase.”
“we thrifted most of our stuff, so the furniture is all mismatched furniture and in every color of the rainbow —”
“but it works.”
“it works,” you echo, heart glowing. “we adopt a dog, too.”
“and, the dog’s name?”
you think for a second. “scooby.”
“of course,” vi agrees, her smile suddenly sad. “sounds like a nice life we’d have together.”
“yeah. it does.”
you swallow down those dreams with a bitter dose of reality. you’ll be on a plane tomorrow, heading back to your childhood home, while vi continues travelling the world, performing to sold-out stadiums.
i don’t know what i’d do without you.
the sad truth is that vi does know what to do without you, and you know what to do without her. that’s what this relationship has become: together, in theory, but growing into your adult selves and towards lives that don’t necessarily include the other.
the vi beside you, hair a mess and eyeliner smudged, looks the same, give or take a few new tattoos and piercing. but, you wonder about all the little ways she’s changed that you might not ever have the chance to appreciate, about all the details of her day that you’ll never get to hear about.
you wonder if, possibly, caitlyn is right. you know that people change — who they are, what they want. you want to believe that you and vi are the exception, that no matter how much you changed, you’d always be together. always.
you then remember something else that caitlyn had said, and abruptly stop tracing designs onto vi’s skin, your eyes lingering on the stars on her upper thigh. vi must notice how you stiffen, because she cups your cheek, prompting you to meet her gaze.
“hey — are you okay?”
“i just — don’t take this the wrong way — but….has anything ever happened between you and cait?”
vi freezes. “why….why would you ask that?”
“o-oh, it’s just….she mentioned something about your star tattoo and, i, uh, i don’t know. seems like the type of thing she’d only know if the two of you had —”
vi shuffles away from you beneath the sheets and sits up. “you think i’d cheat on you?”
“you aren’t answering the question,” you notice, watching carefully as a nervous blush blooms across her freckled cheeks. “did anything happen between you and caitlyn?”
“why does it matter? why are you asking?”
“i’m starting to think i have a good reason to.” you get out of bed in a huff and slip on her oversized graphic tee, starting to pace back and forth.
“i — look, i was going to tell you, at some point — we, uh….well, nothing actually happened.”
“well? what didn’t actually happen?”
“baby, just let me explain —” vi catches your arm to stop you. “we were both drunk and high and sharing a cigarette by the pool and….she….we….almost kissed.”
you scoff. “so that’s what this weekend was all about — you felt guilty, so you put on this heart-eyed romantic act to make yourself feel better. everything — this last minute trip, the shoutout at your concert, the fucking necklace you got me — was all because you felt guilty.”
“maybe that’s part of it,” vi admits. “but, mostly, i wanted to see you. i miss you.”
you don’t confess to missing her, too. instead, you say:
“maybe we don’t know each other as well as we used to. maybe….things are changing a bit too much.”
“what does that even — where is this going?” vi drops your arm like its a hot coal, red-hot and blistering. “do you wanna break up?”
the tension hangs in the air, a cloud of smoke and darkness between you and the girl you’ve always loved.
“do you?”
you get on a plane the next morning, bone-tired and heart-heavy with deja vu.
you kiss each other goodbye, promise that you’ll make things work.
you don’t. can’t.
a few months later, you’ll break up.
___
[image: postcard reading GREETINGS FROM PARIS! messy handwriting and misspelled words on the other side]
stargirl,
i promised powder id send her a postcard from paris but im really really drunk rn and urs is the only address i can rememer
they say this is the city of love and it’s the most romantic day of the yer but it means nothing without u. i miss u.
that mesage was 4 u not powder. just tell her i say hi.
xxx
vi
p.s. i know were not together anymore, but i still love u.
___
track 5: “i’ve loved you for so long” by the aces
(now)
“vi?”
all the lights in the apartment are off, the only sign that vi is home being her discarded doc martens strewn by the door. there’s a chill in the air, too — the window to the fire escape is open, so you head outside.
the string lights twisted around the railing flicker like fallen stars, and the city sparkles in the late winter night. vi perches over the edge, her silk shirt unbuttoned at the top, her dark lipstick faded, and a cigarette smouldering between her ringed fingers.
“i stopped at magnolia’s on my way home – got us a slice of confetti cake for dessert,” you try, keeping your voice light in hopes of avoiding a fight. you hoped that the sweet treat would be a welcomed peace offering; that maybe you could sit down in your shared kitchen and actually talk through the conflict like the well-adjusted adults you’re trying to be.
instead, time collapses into itself; you’re both teenagers again, keeping secrets from each other in hopes to ease future pain, and you have a feeling you’re about to bicker like an old married couple, fall back into familiar patterns.
“sure you wouldn’t want to share it with drea, instead starlight?”
you don’t take the bait; you know vi wants to push your buttons, and you know that she knows exactly how.
“didn’t realize you still smoked,” you say, moving to lean against the railing next to her.
“whenever i get stressed.” she takes a drag to prove her point, exhaling smoke into the ink-black sky. “guess we don’t know each other as well as we used to.”
“vi, please,” you sigh. “can we actually talk about this without you lashing out like a wounded dog?”
and, it’s true — vi’s instinct when she’s upset has always been rushing to sink her teeth into something to protect herself from more harm, or gnawing on old wounds until fresh blood emerges.
“what’s there to talk about?” she snarls, tapping her cigarette, ash falling down into the abyss below you. “how you lied about dating drea?”
“i didn’t lie,” you huff. the winter night shivers down to your bones, but you cross your arms over your chest to keep yourself steady. “i just didn’t tell you that i’d gone out with her, specifically. we each admitted to seeing other people after our break-up. you never gave me a list of every fangirl you took to bed.”
“i told you about caitlyn —”
“the tabloids told me about caitlyn,” you counter.
“you knew how much i hated drea!” vi barks, finally whipping her head to look at you. “do you not remember how much of a homophobic asshole she was? how she told the entire hockey team that i cornered her in the showers one day and tried to kiss her?”
you bite down on the inside of your cheek, hard enough to taste copper.
“vi, if you just let me explain — she meant nothing to me.”
vi laughs, cold and bitter as the winter air. “i mean, jesus christ, you still have and wear the earrings she got you. meanwhile, you never wear that necklace i’d gotten you. as soon as we broke up, you were perfectly happy getting rid of me.”
“please, vi —”
vi’s eyes shine under the starlight, and she clenches her jaw so tight that you’re worried the bone might shatter. “did you not care about me at all, even after all that time, everything we’d been through?”
you uncross your arms and reach out to her, but she flinches away.
“violet —”
“no — you stopped caring about me to the point that you dated someone who made my life a living hell.” vi takes a shaky breath, and she chokes out your name. “we were best friends first, and i thought….god, i thought that meant we’d always love each other.”
the words hang heavy in the air, your heart pierced by her icicle-sharp words. in a haste, you wipe away the cold tears burning on your skin, turn around on your heels, and storm back inside.
vi finds you a few minutes later in the living room. you’re using the swiss army knife you usually keep clipped to your belt to tear through unpacked boxes. though she’s not sure what you’re looking for, vi turns on the lamp to help your search.
“what are you —”
you finally pull something out and offer it to her without a single word.
vi’s fingers are still slightly frozen as she holds it, her eyes following the precise swirls and crisp lines, designs similar to the tattoos on her back. you must have drawn them on the worn cardboard.
“what is this?”
“open it,” is all you say before sitting cross-legged on the velvety purple couch, which the two of you had lugged up three flights of stairs from the street corner just the other day. you pick at one of the tears in the fabric as you wait.
vi stays standing while she carefully cracks open the lid, well aware that it could disintegrate in her hands like sand through an hourglass.
what looks like a forgotten, ready-to-be-recycled shoebox turns out to contain much more than old sneakers:
valentine’s cards she’d given you in elementary school; notes you passed to each other during class or detention; her first songwriting notebook she must have left at your place; a jolly rancher lollipop wrapper from the halloween party where you first…you know. little trinkets vi had given you throughout the years. receipts, movie tickets, photobooth strips of your younger selves. so carefree and full of love.
her anger, her hurt, melts away into sappy affection; knees turning to jello, she slides onto the couch next to you.
you watch through the corner of your eye as vi rustles through contents of the shoebox-turned-time capsule, teeth worrying at your bottom lip.
“you….you kept all of this?”
“i put this box together on the first valentine’s day after our break-up. i was going to set it on fire,” you timidly admit, rubbing the back of your neck.
vi snorts. “seriously?”
“some sort of stupid ritual i read about in autostraddle, to get rid of your ex. but when it got to that point…all of this — all these memories — i couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them. i didn’t want to get rid of you.”
you reach into the box and pull out a faded, drunkenly-written postcard, chipped-polish nail fiddling with the french stamp in the corner.
“what about the necklace?” vi can’t help but ask. she runs her fingers through the delicate, dried violets from your corsage, which your mom had helped vi pick out a week before prom.
“ekko wanted new sneakers for his birthday, so i did the nobel big sister thing, and sold my most expensive piece of jewellery to pay for them,” you explain. you and vi had instinctively shuffled in closer together, the shoebox balanced on one leg from each of you, your knees touching. “plus — yeah, i was mad at you. god, i hated you — which probably was the reason i started going out with drea in the first place, and i’m really, really sorry that i did. but, i need you to know — i never stopped caring about you. i never stopped loving you, violet, and i don’t think i ever will. ”
silence stretches between you. vi stares at you in the warm living room light — how your eyes are darker, your lips parted, shoulders curling in to protect your bleeding heart. vi gently takes the postcard from you and places the shoebox on the floor.
“i never stopped loving you, either,” she promises, placing her now thawed hands on your cheeks. “and i don’t think i ever will.”
you smile softly as vi leans in closer, her eyes flickering between yours and your lips. you nod; vi presses her lips to yours, a tender vow that grows into something hungrier, something with teeth.
“gentler,” you tell her as you pull away slightly. you want to take your time, inhale the dizzying nicotine in her lungs, savor the acidic red wine on her tongue.
“gentler?” vi’s already eager, though, her hand inching up your thigh.
“slower, violet.”
vi shudders as you trail your fingers over the tattoo on her neck. “have i ever told you how much i love it when you say my name?”
“drea definitely wasn’t a fan of that habit,” you confess with a guilty grin. “one of the reasons we broke up is because, well...i kept accidentally saying your name during sex.”
“really?” vi chuckles darkly, a lightning bolt of possessiveness striking through her. “fucked you so good that i ruin you for other girls, hm?”
you roll your eyes, then suck in a breath when vi dips her fingers beneath your underwear, finding you wet and waiting.
“oh, sweetheart, you’re soaking. all this, just for me?”
“hm, i don’t know. drea did look pretty good in that dress,” you tease — because you know how to push vi’s buttons, too. “i have to admit, she was a pretty decent fuck.”
“don’t,” she warns, but her eyes are burning with desire.
you smirk, slipping your hand underneath her shirt. her skin is always warm, but, right now, it’s electric. her abs are sculpted by the gods, pave way to a thick haven of curls between her legs.
“maybe you need to remind me why your name always fell from my lips whenever she’d make me cum.”
vi’s cheeks are red-hot, her heart pounding against your chest as she pushes you onto the couch, and presses her body into yours.
“it would be my genuine pleasure.”
everything else to ash, and you’re left with this: your lace underwear dangling off your ankle as vi pushes your legs over her shoulders. her slick, skilled tongue sliding through your folds and her rough fingers squelching into your hole at an expert pace.
“f-fuck, vi,” you moan, running your fingers through her messy hair. you don’t miss how eagerly she grinds down onto the butter-soft velvet once you start tugging at the strands more firmly.
“feels good, yeah?” she moans like you’re the one fucking her. “i’m the one making you feel good?”
“yes.” you exhale sharply when she sucks on your clit. “i’m close, vi.”
“i know, baby,” she drawls, smirking against your skin.
“don’t stop.” you plead as she sucks a bruise into your thigh, fingers curling into you. “don’t stop, don’t stop —”
and, she fucking stops.
“vi,” you whine.
“uh-uh, you don’t get to cum quite yet, pretty girl.”
she sucks her honey-soaked fingers into her mouth as she gets up from the couch.
you pout, licking your lips even though you wish you could lick hers. “why not?”
“i’m still mad at you,” vi states. “you really did hurt my feelings. how do you plan on making it up to me?”
vi tries to resist, play the part of the jealous, possessive girlfriend — but, god, it’s hard, with how fucked out, how beautiful you look right now: your lips the color of ripe plums, swollen and stained with vi’s lipstick; the curls between your legs twinkling with droplets of your desire; and your eyes glazed over with lust as you gaze up at her from the couch.
“that new strap we got,” you suggest, still breathless. your breasts strain against the now-wrinkled silk of the shirt you’re wearing. vi’s thankful that it’s hers, because she wants nothing more than to rip the fabric off your body. “you — you can fuck me with it.”
“is that what you want?” vi hums, fire burning in her abdomen as she watches you nod eagerly. usually, you’re the one who takes control, and that’s perfectly fine with vi, but tonight….
tonight, she has something to prove.
you’re both naked by the time you reach the bedroom, clothes thrown across the apartment floor as you take turns leaving bites and bruises on exposed areas of the other’s skin. you get down on your knees, the shag carpet shocking your skin as vi looms over you, gnawing at her scarred, kiss-swollen lips. you help her adjust the harness and attach everything accordingly, leaving a kiss on each star glittering across her thigh once you’re done. she makes you wait patiently as she coats the dildo with a healthy amount of lube.
vi offers you her hand, sticky with lube and your essence from earlier, and lifts you to your feet. she kisses you sweetly before pushing you onto the bed.
"turn around," vi instructs. "on your knees."
you comply, already feeling yourself dripping onto the comforter in anticipation. vi kneels behind you on the bed, grasping the plush of your hips between her strong hands. you gasp when she spits onto your hole and starts to fuck into you, inch by inch.
"you okay, baby?" vi asks once she’s halfway inside you.
"yes," you breathe. "keep going.”
so, vi continues gliding further into your silken heat, and once she’s nestled inside you completely, her thighs meeting your ass — that’s when she turns on the vibrations. vi moans, so loud that you’re sure the entire building can hear. she starts grinding into you, but otherwise doesn’t move.
“violet.” you snap your neck back as far as you can, appreciating how perfectly dishevelled vi looks behind you, eyes rolled up to heaven, drool trickling from the corner of her plump lips. “are you gonna keep fucking me any time soon?”
“it’s just so much,” she whines, and continues rutting against you.
it is so much — the waves of pleasure quivering from her body to yours, the subtle burn of her happy trail rubbing against your skin, the melodic timbre of her voice — but it’s not enough.
“i know, baby. but i need more. if you don’t do something now….maybe there’s someone else i can call…”
your words effectively reignite that spark of jealousy, and she growls. vi slips out slightly, only to thrust back in, over and over, until you’re a moaning mess beneath her. your body starts to shake, but before you almost collapse onto your elbows, so vi reaches one hand to your neck and lifts you up so that her pierced nipples brushed against your back.
she kisses the back of your neck, trailing her hand down to pinch one of your nipples and you hiss, dizzy with pain and pleasure. she moves her other hand below the harness, rubbing her swollen clit in tight circles and gathering as much slick as she can. she brings those same fingers, glistening in the moonlight, to your lips, and you let her shove them into your mouth so you can finally taste her.
"this enough for you, greedy girl?" she taunts.
you are greedy, when it comes to her, suckling on her digits like a lollipop while she stretches you open so deliciously, the obscene squelching of your pussy accompanying a symphony of moans and curses.
"yes, violet. f-fuck, yes!"
you feel vi groan against the crook of your neck, where her teeth had been nibbling at the sweat-soaked skin.
“fuck — i need to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."
with that, vi flips you over, so she can watch you unravel. she hisses when your nails find purchase on her shoulders, digging down her tattooed back.
“you’re so fucking hot. so gorgeous. i’m so lucky that you’re mine.” vi’s voice is still rough and coarse with lust, but she’s looking at you all wonder-filled and soft-eyed, like you’re a work of art displayed at the louvre. “you….you are mine, right?”
the question is shockingly vulnerable from the woman who’s fucking you at a truly brutal speed, deep enough that you’re sure you’ll feel the lucious ache of her for days now.
you bring your hands to gently cradle her face as you wrap your legs around her hips. vi snakes one of her hands down to rub at your throbbing clit, while the other rests lovingly on your tattooed ribs, where delicate violets bloom.
“i’m yours,” you assure, and your heart glows when she beams above you. “you’re mine too, right?”
vi nods, damp strands of her hair tickling your forehead.
“i’m yours.”
there’s a mess pooling underneath your entangled bodies by the time you’re both finished.
for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, until vi breaks the silence:
“did you say that you brought home a slice of cake?”
the two of you throw on some clothes, throw the sheets in the wash, and vi pulls you into her lap as you share the slice of cake at the kitchen table, chattering about everything and nothing for however long, until vi glances at the oven clock.
“shit — it’s midnight already. guess time flies when you’re having fun.” vi wraps her arms around your middle, and kisses your shoulder. “happy valentine’s day, stargirl.”
“happy valentine’s day, vi,” you smile, weaving your fingers through hers. you crane your neck back so you can feed her a bite of cake. “you’re the sweetest.”
“this cake’s pretty sweet, too,” vi jokes. she peppers kisses across your face until you’re giggling, skin sticky with frosting.
“i’m glad you like it,” you laugh. “they do wedding cakes, too, but i think we should explore our options before settling on one for ours.”
vi’s lips pause just as she starts to kiss underneath your jaw.
“do you mean for our wedding?” she smirks. “is there something you wanna ask me, stargirl?”
“damn it —” you cough, almost choking on a mouthful of cake. “i - i had this whole thing planned - wait, let me —”
you disappear into the bedroom and reemerge with an intricately painted vase. you hand it to vi and sit in the chair next to her.
“this is what i made in my pottery seminar,” you explain. “it’s supposed to be like —”
“that mural you made of us senior year,” vi finishes, looking between the vase and you with stars in her eyes.
“exactly. except we won’t have to spend saturday detention painting over it.” you chuckle at the memory as vi shakes her head with a small smile dancing across her lips knowingly. “i was gonna promise to bring my beautiful wife fresh flowers for this vase every week and then i was gonna ask you to look inside….” you gesture at vi to do so, and she reaches in to pull out a velvet box. “and then i was gonna get down on one knee —”
“it’s okay — you’ve already done plenty of that tonight,” vi laughs, and you bump her shoulder playfully.
“and i was gonna tell you that i love you, that i have for basically my whole life, and that i want to spend the rest of it with you,” you finish, heart fluttering in your chest.
“i can’t believe you were going to propose to me.” vi places the vase on the kitchen counter behind her, smiling at you softly.
“is that a yes or….?”
instead of answering, vi walks over to the couch, reaches behind and pulls up a heart-printed gift bag, and hands it to you. she watches intently as you pull out a turquoise-blue collar.
“damn, i did not know you were this kinky.” you raise an eyebrow at vi. “so, is this a yes to my proposal or….just something you just wanna try in the bedroom?”
“w-what? no!” vi stutters, her cheeks blooming pink. “i mean, yes! well – okay, i also had this plan for valentine’s day.” it’s very endearing, how vi’s scrambling to find the right words. your punk rock girlfriend, flustered and lovesick for you. “okay — there’s a dog at the shelter i thought we could adopt. i brought home the paperwork for us to fill out, if that’s what you want — it’s all in there. there’s a picture of him, too.”
you reach in the bag again and find a printed photo of an adorable brown lab with the warmest eyes.
“he’s adorable,” you squeal. “does he have a name?”
“scooby, of course.” vi grins. “so, do you wanna adopt a dog together?”
“i do.”
“i love the sound of that,” vi hums. “there’s one more thing in there for you….”
it’s a ring pop — and you’re not sure if it’s the sugar rush, or the woman getting down on one knee and asking you, so tenderly, so sweetly, to marry her, but your heart is absolutely soaring.
“we might have to tell our kids a more pg version of the night we got engaged,” vi whispers later, when you’re back cuddling in bed under fresh sheets.
“kids?” you twist around in vi’s arms to find her grinning at you. “is there something you want to ask me?”
“is scooby not our first child?” vi guffaws and you poke her ribs at her cheekiness.
“true.”
“besides, you know what they say, stargirl,” she practically sings. “first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes —”
you cut her off with a sugary, confetti-flavored kiss, your smiles melting into one.
I don't need space, I need you
Mattheo and Theodore fluff
Based on this request, please don't hate me for taking 29 days to post this rather average piece, but I had a lot of requests and not a lot of time. I hope you like it!
Finally I had time to write today! Big yey for me, people. I needed it and I'm so happy I wrote something today. 💛 Sending you lots of love and of course: happy readings!
A/N: I got some stuff going on in life so if I don't respond, I'm sorry. Just know that I love you. 💛
There was a request for a Draco and Enzo version: you can read it here
Mattheo
“Where’s my princess?” Mattheo sings as he enters the common room in search of you. “Not here, I would check the library.” Blaise states not looking up from his book. Mattheo nods and is about to turn around to head straight for the library, but Draco’s snickering stops him from doing so. “I bet you’re pleased to have a moment of peace.” Mattheo focuses on Draco, not completely getting where the blond's going with this. “I honestly pity you, man, must be so suffocating.” Suddenly all eyes are on Mattheo and not just his friends, the entire slytherin common room is curious to hear what the big bad boy has to say. Mattheo moves a nervous hand through his curls and chuckles. “Yeah, she’s a bit much with her hugs and cuddles, and urgh those constant questions to check on me. I’m lucky she studies so much, so I have a break from time to time.” Mattheo sits down opposite of Draco who grins and nods, fully believing that Mattheo feels saved by your absence. However, Mattheo felt miserable sitting there, knowing that he could be spending time with you.
Just like Mattheo was searching the castle for you, you had been searching for him and ended up checking the common room. With watery eyes you turn around, unnoticed by anyone, and leave the common room. He thinks I’m too much?
***
“Who is it?!” Mattheo yells as he pushes you against the wall of an empty hallway. He rarely raised his voice with you, but now his face was close to yours, his eyes dark and piercing yours. He looks more pained than angry, but you just look confused. To him it was obvious, you had fallen out of love with him and probably found someone else. There was plenty of proof:
A quick kiss on the lips and a wish of good luck before Tuesday's test was all Mattheo got, instead of the tight hug and intense kiss you would normally give him before a test.
When you got your results back on Wednesday you jumped into Luna’s arms and just gave him a happy smile, while he was standing right there next to Luna. His heart ached to hold you and press you against his chest. Worse was when you asked Enzo about his test first and ended up discussing all the answers, barely giving your boyfriend any attention.
Thursday you went to sit next to Pansy in the common room, instead of settling in your boyfriend’s lap. Mattheo was forced to watch you the whole evening without touching you once. When you left for bed, you told him not to walk you to your room and reminded him to spend some much needed time with his friends. The sweet kiss you gave him, didn’t make up for any of it.
Were you trying to get rid of him? To Mattheo the case was obvious.
Friday was the worst. Happy to finally have you next to him as you were both reading, settled close by the fire. With his eyes still on the page of his own book his arm moved behind you to pull you closer and you let your head rest on his shoulder as you continued to read, but still Mattheo frowned. Normally you would sling your legs over his and cuddle up against his chest, wrapping your blanket around the both of you and creating this warm bubble of love. He could barely focus on his book, as his eyes constantly wandered to you reading next to him but not cuddled up against him like you used to.
So by Saturday Mattheo had pretty much had it with you. You rubbed your temple as squeezed your eyes. “I have a headache, I’m gonna head to my room and rest for a bit.” You got up from your seat to leave the library and Mattheo did the same. If you weren’t feeling well then he needed to be by your side. “Oh, don’t Matt. I’ll be fine. I’ll ask Pansy to give me something against the pain and settle next to me until I fall asleep.” Mattheo stood perplexed as you just kissed him and left. Now he wasn’t even good enough to take care of you anymore.
This was the moment he snapped. With stern strides he follows you.
“Who is it?!” You frowned at the question and met Mattheo’s dark eyes. “Obviously, you’re done with me. So who’s better than me, huh?” His voice was filled with anger, but his question sounded so heartbreaking, that you felt no need to get angry with him for pushing you against the wall and snapping at you. You cup his cheeks and softly shake your head. “Matt, I love you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your voice is calm and endearing, reminding him of how much he needed your love. You were always so gentle with him and feeling you slip away the past week hurt so much that he felt like falling apart on the spot. He's too hurt and afraid to lose you to act tough and with a whisper he confesses his worries. “You don’t check up on me anymore. You don’t wish me luck before a test like you used to. We don’t cuddle anymore.” You stare at him in silence for a moment, you had never seen Mattheo this soft and vulnerable before.
Your hands still resting on his cheeks move to his neck as you wrap your arms around him and pull him against you. Mattheo snuggles his face in your neck, embarrassed with himself and desperate for your warmth. You rest your head against his and your fingers move through his curls, making him sigh at your touch. “You told Draco I was a bit too much. So I backed off, because I didn’t want to lose you. I know I can get clingy sometimes, I’m sorry.” Mattheo moves away to look at you and his eyes look guilty. “No, no. Don’t apologise. Don’t be sorry. I love you clingy and cuddly. I need you to be around me.” Your eyebrows knit together. “But I heard you say-” Mattheo interrupts you and shakes his head. “I was being stupid. Don’t listen to the things I say. Just stay with me and love me… overwhelm me with everything you have.” You tilt your head in confusion. “No, I mean listen to me, just forget about what I said back then. I- I was trying to act tough so I pretended to- you know.” You chuckle. “You pretended not to like cuddles, because you wanted to be a tough guy?” Embarrassed with himself Mattheo nods. “I’m a softy for you and I need my daily dose of love. I don’t need space.”
You sigh at Mattheo’s pouty face. “My boyfriend’s an idiot.” Mattheo nods and leans in for a kiss. “Please, let me take you to your room and let me take care of you, because I want nothing more than to be around you.” You pull him in for another intense kiss as an answer and as you walk to your dorm, he squeezes your hand the whole time walking.
Theodore
“Where’s my lady?” Theodore frowns as he sits down opposite of Blaise, who raises his shoulders without looking up from his book. Theo shakes his head in annoyance, he needed you like he needed cigarettes. He spent the whole day longing for your love and warm embraces. Merlin, all he wanted right now was for you to entangle your fingers with his hair and ask him about his day. “For once the two of you aren’t attached to the hip.” Mattheo quips and Draco snickers. “Must be refreshing to have a moment to yourself.” Theodore stays silent for a moment and a little further, near the common room entrance you halt in your step. “She’s so mothering, it’s almost toxic. I don’t know how you do it, mate.” Draco wiggles his eyebrows at Theo as Mattheo talks. “You know, if you ever need us to come save you, we could always come up with a code word.” Draco offers and Theodore chuckles, not knowing what to say. “It’s not toxic, but I’m happy to have a moment with you guys, because she can be a bit much. She’s always so… clingy.” You chew your lip and slowly take a step back, leaving the common room as the word ‘clingy’ rings in your head.
***
You didn’t want to lose your boyfriend due to being too clingy. So you decided to keep your distance.
Instead of spending your evening studying cuddled up with your boyfriend you ask Hermione to help you out with potions who of course never passes the opportunity to study. Keeping up his tough act in front of his friends, Theodore can’t protest as you leave the common room to go study with your friend instead of with him. Theo feels himself get cold as he sits by the fireplace with his friends. If you’re not there to keep him warm the room just feels empty and even the conversations are boring. He can’t help but curse himself for letting you go study with Hermione. Having to make peace with an evening without you, Theodore longs for the next day and having you next to him during breakfast while you talk about your plans for the day.
The next morning, at breakfast Theo only gets a small kiss from you before you turn to Pansy gossiping about some third years. Theodore can’t resist but snake an arm around you and you love his touch, but you try not to be too clingy and decide to not fully lean against him. Your boyfriend is happy to have you next to him, but disappointed that you stay engaged with Pansy’s gossip instead of giving him some much needed attention. Why were you not combing his hair with your fingers until it looked the way you preferred it? Why were you not checking if he had done all his homework? What was so bloody interesting about Pansy’s conversation?!! He was getting so annoyed that he was caught by surprise when you kissed him tenderly and headed for class. His mind and body were screaming to have you back by his side and walk you to class, but he just turned to his breakfast and spent the morning sulking.
Finally, after two days, he had you close to him, settled on his bed with a book in your hand. You were all alone in his room and you both enjoyed the peace and quiet. You lay between his legs with his arms around you, while his head rested on yours, reading some of the paragraphs of your book but mostly taking in your warmth and scent. He gives you a soft kiss on your cheek and you smile and lean against his chest. “I love you.” You whisper and his eyes shine even brighter than he smiles. “Love you too.” However, your romantic moment is ruined when Blaise and Mattheo enter. “Astronomy tower?” Mattheo raises his eyebrows at Theo who is about to decline the invitation, but you speak up first. “I was just about to meet up with Luna.” You jump up and Theodore's eyes go furious at the suggestion of you leaving. “No you’re not.” Theo snaps at you, shaking everyone in the room. “Why are you so eager to get away from me?” Theo questions and Blaise and Mattheo’s eyes move from their friend to you. You take a step back at your boyfriend's accusation. “I’m not. I’m just giving you space so you can hang out with your friends.” Theo shoots Blaise and Mattheo a dark glare. “Out! Both of you!”
As soon as the duo closes the door behind them and you and Theodore are left alone in the room Theodore gets up and towers over you. “I don’t want space, I want you. So tell me what’s going on, because I can’t stand it anymore.” His voice is stern, but you feel yourself relax as you no longer have to act differently and you can finally be honest with him. “You think I’m clingy and sometimes I’m too much… and I get that and I don’t want to lose you… so I did my best to give you some space in the hopes of saving our relationship.” Theodore’s heart aches at the soft tone of your voice. How could he make you feel like you were too much when you were all he wanted. “I’m such a shit boyfriend.” Theo sighs as he sits back down on his bed, making you frown and join him. “No, I was too much.” Theo’s head snaps to you. “You are not. I didn’t want those idiots to think I was whipped or soft or- so I said you were clingy, but you're not, if anything I am… I want you around 24/7.” Your eyes widen at his confession. “Soooo, you’re saying that ‘the’ Theodore Nott is so in love with me that he prefers cuddling over hanging with his friends.” Your boyfriend chuckles. “Yeah, so please just go back to reading in my arms and make me the happiest man alive.” You lean towards him and he meets your lips. The sweet kiss quickly turns passionate as you both fall back on the bed.
For the ones who asked to be tagged, here you go lovies: @ho3forfakeguys and @bitchoftoji
marry me pls. thank you for your careful consideration.
😩❤️
My mom: Goodnight, honey
My ass: *night* bc if it was a goodnight, the last of us would have won a golden globe.
Matt reminds me of Kermit the frog and I can’t explain it but like I’m right
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