#i know this was a thing years ago but whatever i wanted to draw them big twins without thinking much about poses | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sooniebby · 2 months ago

Text

ఌ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐄

w.c › 6k

Warnings › faceclaims. Part 1. Slow burn, some slight romance with Hyojin (but Mingi is still the main love interest).

Plot › you begin to learn just how obsessive Mingi is

Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male with call an older male.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Four Years Ago

“They’re going to add another member. To fill a gap, they feel that you guys another need main vocalist.”

When Dawon had told Mingi and the others that, it was like hell broke loose. They all couldn’t believe that the company really believed they weren’t good enough, after all that training.

Hyojin, however, didn’t see the problem with it. He could actually understand where the company was coming from—even if he did hate them for other reasons.

He didn’t think the others couldn’t sing but there was something he felt was missing. A more mature voice—sultry he’d say.

Which was why when everyone met you, he could understand why the company put you in the group. You were the package deal, minus rapping, but that was okay. And while he’d never tell Yohan, you were a much better leader than he could ever be.

So he was a bit upset for you when the other members were set on ignoring you.

The group was finally filming for their debut single. It was a school boy concept, young love and all that. Hyojin didn’t care too much about that. As long as the song was good and he wasn’t forced to make garbage music, he was fine.

“Okay, guys, we’re going to do pairs for this shot,” Gaeul said, getting the boys attentions. “The director said the pairs don’t matter. So, you guys can pick.”

Hyojin didn’t have to put two and two together that it would get awkward fast if they got to who would be forced to pair with you.

So, he eagerly stood up from his seat, “I’ll pair with (Name)-Ssi.” He said, fixing the tie to his uniform. He ignored the glances the others gave him as he looked over at you.

You were staring at him with a shocked face before a wide grin pulled on your lips, “Okay.”

Hyojin smiled slightly. He moved to follow you to the shooting area when he caught a glimpse of Mingi. His eyes widen as he saw Mingi staring at him as if he wanted to murder him. The boy was picking at his pants as he glared at him.

Who knew someone so young could make such a scary face?

Though he didn’t understand why Mingi seemed so angry? Did he.. want to pair with you?

That didn’t make any sense—he didn’t exactly talk to you.

Oh well, Hyojin had other things to worry about.

He was a bit awkward for the camera so he wasn’t having the best of time filming. The amount of times the director told him to not look like he’s having a war flashback was too many to count.

The set was a bedroom, stuff randomly around. This director had wanted it to feel a bit more real and only gave you and Hyojin the direction to act like students who were discussing how to confess to their crush.

Hyojin didn’t know how the fuck he was supposed to do that but you seemed to understand.

Once the camera began to roll, you basically stole the scene with ease. Acting cute seemed like second nature to you. Hyojin just followed whatever you did, letting you lead him.

Just as the scene was about to end, you both sat on the bed as you opened a fake note. Hyojin leaned in to see that there was a little stick figure drawing, causing him to crack a slight smile.

He glanced over and felt himself freeze, your face close to his. You were staring at him with eyes he couldn’t really describe. A soft gaze as a slight smile pulled on your lips.

Did they put lipstick on your—

“Cut!”

“Great job, guys!” Gaeul said, walking over to you two. You easily pulled away as Hyojin tried to think about what just happened.

“Thanks for pairing with me, Hyojin-Ssi.” You said, smiling at him. The rest of the sentence didn’t need to be said.

“I wanted to pair with you… uhm, you don’t need to speak so politely with me.” He said, deciding to bridge the gap.

Your eyes widen before you eagerly nodded, “okay. Call me Hyung then, Jinnie.”

Jinnie?

Oh man, you were too cute.

Gaeul coughed, clapping her hands together, “great, you two are cute! But c’mon, you guys need to film a quick video for the vlog the Dawon is making.”

You and Hyojin joined the other members back in the dressing room. Dawon was holding a camera as he motioned for the group to stand up and start the intro. You stood in the middle as Hyojin stood on your left while a disgruntled Yohan on your right.

It seemed like Yohan wouldn’t like you at all… or anyone besides Hyojin for that matter.

Every member immediately got their camera ready persona on as you smiled, ready to start the introduction when someone stopped you.

“Ah, Hong (Name)-Ssi, you shouldn’t smile, it’ll go against the boyfriend image we have for you,” one of the producers said, causing you to freeze.

Another one hummed in agreement, “and maybe angle your head a bit to left, your face looks better on camera that way.”

Gaeul let out a grunt, “uh, thanks… but I’m his manager.. I can handle the group.”

“Well, handle him better.”

You ignored the questioning stares the members gave you as you dropped your smile. Hyojin wanted to say something back but he was a rookie—he had no power over the people funding their debut.

He could only watch as the light in your eyes practically went out from their berating. From that moment, he could easily tell there was a different set of standards you had to meet compared to the others.

From then on, he was going to help you, in anyway he can.

That’s why he’s your favorite… right?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You wanted to die.

At age twenty five you came like a teenage boy right in front of your maknae.

How embarrassing.

You grabbed your pillow and let out a loud scream, wanting to just close your eyes and never wake up. Mingi was taking a shower and you were scared he’d come into your room later.

There was no way in hell you wanted to see him again tonight.

Maybe tomorrow.

Or a few weeks.

You glanced over at your phone and stared at it for a few minutes. Maybe some posts from those freaky Miras would make you appreciate life again. Or something like that. Whatever bullshit idea you could come up with to justify you still going to the NSFW side of your fandom.

Now that you knew about the rise of gay/bisexual men into you, you wondered if you could find any.

Your biggest fan account, itsokokok had recently posted so decided to see if maybe they were congregating in the replies.

The new three posts of today was from three hours ago. It was from three different album promotions.

The first was from debut: it was a short clip of you in the music video. Your duo scene with Hyojin. You didn’t remember just how cute you acted in it, really playing up the teen boy being in love.

You checked the comments, many filled with people that weren’t Miras. Most of it was just guys saying you were really cute but in a natural way.

Second was of your performance from… pre debut? Huh, how did they find this? You looked to be maybe fifteen—a performance from your high school’s talent show. The video was of you dressed in a suit and tie performing A.D.T.O.Y by 2pm.

Quite the song for fetus you to be performing but hey, none of the adults stopped you.

It seemed the comments did have morals and mostly just complimented your ability to sing and dance at the same time. Though a few wanted you to preform the dance now… probably to thirst over you.

Lastly, the third video was one year old, a short clip of the music video for your second to last comeback. You didn’t know how they could thirst over this but you clicked on the video.

You were wet in the video, standing in front of a swimming pool. Dressed in a white button up and black slacks. The white shirt was stuck to your skin as you delivered your line, tugging at the loose tie around your neck.

At the time, you didn’t find the whole aspect of being wet on camera a bad thing. The song was about drowning in your feelings so being wet made sense.

Though you now regretted it.

@bluemuuun

↳ need him bad… don’t even know his name

@hanniesmira

↳ you don’t know Miracle?! Hong (Name) from Miracle? Dude you’re missing out, they have great songs

@bluemuuun

↳ I’m not even into kpop, I just want to fuck him ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@slipslickk

↳ he looks good wet—I need one of his members to fuck him on stage already pls

@dohasflatass

↳ wonder if Min collapsed after seeing (Name) during shooting ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

@hanniesmira

↳ knowing min, he probably threatened anyone who stared for too long ㅎㅎㅎ

@hyunkikii

↳ Mrcle definitely take turns on his ass, got a phatty for real

@hyoojinie

↳ his gaze into the camera is so slutty

Just as you were about to log out, you came across an older post itsokokok posted. It was of your early debut. One of the stage performances. It followed you dancing with a stoic face right when it was your center turn until it was Yohan’s turn.

As soon as the main camera was off you, a wide smile pulled on your lips as you danced along. Whenever it was your turn to sing, you immediately dropped the smile.

You were mostly following the orders the company gave you. Being the stoic boyfriend.

Nowadays you stopped caring but back then you were so scared of being taken out of the group that you followed whatever the company told you.

The comments were filled with comments of Miras, a few stating they missed this side of you. If only they knew that it wasn’t the real you. You scrolled through the comments before seeing one by itsokokok himself.

He was responding to someone saying they loved you when acted stoic, and hating this new ‘fake’ you.

→ then you don’t know the true him

You sat up, staring at the comment for a moment. Itsokokok didn’t seem to really comment. He had little to none captions and just posted once everyday at random times, possibly whenever he was free. It wasn’t even anything too crazy but the comment oddly felt like he knew you?

Well, probably not. He might’ve just noticed that you were putting on an act due to your pre-debut activities. It was a drastic difference if you paid any attention.

Speaking of, how did he find any of your pre-debut stuff? You tried to think if you maybe posted them yourself or maybe your classmates or something.

Maybe your mom? She loved posting videos of your performances on her Instagram. She even gained a lot of followers because of it. Her account was basically a fan account at this point.

He might’ve just found the pre-debut performances she posted, it’s not like she’s hiding it.

You shrugged. It wasn’t too creepy. He seemed to actually appreciate you.

And that’s all you can really ask for in a fan.

“Hyung.”

You blushed and quickly turned off your phone. Mingi stepped into your room, rubbing at his face as he got on your bed. You simply watched him get comfortable before glancing over at you.

“You’re so stiff.” He said, a slight smirk on his lips. “Are you scared I’ll eat you in your sleep?”

“Mingi!” You bristled, quickly turning off your lamp as you got underneath your covered. You kept your back to him as you tried to drown out his laugh.

It was silent after a minute. You glanced back to see him fast asleep. That was fast.

Staring at him, you wondered how much he’s changed. He wasn’t seventeen anymore.

Maybe he really did love you…

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Solo activity?”

Your group mates were looking at you in shock. It had been almost a month since Gaeul had told you about your change in marketing and now the company finally has something for you. Your solo stage.

They were all in your apartment, getting comfy on the couch when you suddenly came out ready to leave. Everyone had been practicing daily for the comeback that they had planned for a relaxed day today.

“Yeah.” You said, feeling a bit nervous. “Did.. Dawon Hyung forget to tell you guys?”

“Oh, yeah, he did.” Yohan muttered.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Doha said, glancing back at the tv. You wanted to ask what he meant by that but then Yohan delivered a swift kick to Doha’s shin.

“Have you been practicing before us then?” Kihyun suddenly asked. “You’re already prepared to perform it?”

“Mhm… I’ve been practicing daily after our recording sessions.” You bit your lip. “It’s an easy song to learn.”

“Ah okay,” Yohan said, speaking for the others who were just staring at you. “Do you want one of us to come with?”

“Come—? Uh, uhm.” Your eyes gazed at them in disbelief. They wanted to come? Why did it feel like they were attached to your hip these days?

Mingi rolled his eyes, coming out from the kitchen. “(Name) Hyung doesn’t need someone with him. He’s not a baby.”

“You’re just jealous he might not choose you,” Doha shot back, smirking at the deadly glare Mingi sent his way.

“Ah, I guess I could bring one of you guys,” you said, causing them to perk up immediately. Their eyes stared right into your soul. You felt your hands sweat as you tried to think about who to choose.

No way would you choose Mingi… he was making you uncomfortable these days. The way he gazes at you like you’re his entire world is insane!

Yohan would be too annoying.

Kihyun would be a bit awkward.

Doha was being annoying to Mingi and you didn’t want reward his behavior.

Your gaze narrowed in on Hyojin. His eyes met yours as a slight grin pulled on his lips. That’s all he needed as he stood up with a triumphant smile. The others immediately groaned and shook their heads in annoyance.

Hyojin moved to follow you out the door when Mingi suddenly grabbed his arm. You almost yelled at Mingi for his aggressive behavior but Hyojin didn’t look shocked at all.

Mingi whispered something while Hyojin rolled his eyes.

“Childish.” He said, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I won’t touch what’s yours. You should worry about Yohan Hyung instead.”

“What? Yah, what are you talking about?!” Yohan yelled, glancing over at Mingi.

You stood there mouth agape. Mingi didn’t… no way he wouldn’t.. Hyojin grabbed your hand before you could properly spiral and lead you out of the apartment.

Just what the hell was Mingi’s problem?

Hyojin didn’t see you romantically, what is he worrying about?

Once you reached the music show, you were quickly dressed in an outfit to match the song you were performing. It was business casual, apparently.

Hyojin sat on the couch as the stylist helped you get dressed. He was silent for the most part, tapping away on his phone. It was another reason why you chose him. He wasn’t an annoying little shit like the rest of them.

“Jinnie,” you called, fixing the fake glasses on your face. “How does Hyung look?”

It took a minute before he finally glanced up. His eyes widen as he took you in. You were dressed in a white button up, sleeves rolled up with a loose black tie. Black slacks with sleek black dress shoes.

“It reminds me of something I wore before,” you laughed, tugging at the tie as you looked over at him.

Hyojin coughed, the tip of his ears getting red as he mutely nodded. “Mhm… you make it so hard, Hyung.”

“Hm?” You tilted your head, walking over to him as you plopped down beside him on the couch.

“I think Mingi will be upset if I told you… but everyone in the group has.. liked you.”

“Liked me? Like…”

“Romantically.” Hyojin said, smiling slightly. “But Mingi had stronger feelings for you.”

“So what… did he.. did he tell you guys to back off or something?” You asked, still reeling from the fact your members liked you. The thought seemed ludicrous!

“Yeah.” Hyojin said bluntly. “Something like that.”

You raised an eyebrow, “what did he do?”

“Secret.”

“Hyojin.”

“Mhmmm, I can’t remember.”

You glared at him as he went back to his phone. “I don’t understand. You guys really liked me..? How? Why?”

Hyojin shrugged. “I don’t know about the rest of them.. but I just liked you for you. But it wasn’t the strongest feelings.”

The strongest… You briefly wondered about Kihyun. Maybe he had stronger feelings for Kihyun?

But before you could ask, a staff member called for you. Hyojin gave you a thumbs up as you got up and left.

While you were nervous, you weren’t exactly nervous to preform on stage alone. You’ve always performed alone before debuting in Miracle.

The month you spent practicing for the song was a breeze. It was a song that took inspiration from a past song you composed. The choreographer didn’t go all out with the dance.

Though what you were really nervous about was if people would actually care.

What if the so called growing interest in you deflated immediately?

You shook your head, walking onto stage. A group of six dancers followed you. The crowed actually cheered a bit when you came on. There was a few Miracle lightsticks. But immediately, a group of male voices rung out in the building.

Everyone seemed shocked at how loud they were, even the dancers as they got into position. You couldn’t help but grin and eagerly wave at them.

“귀여! ♡♡♡♡!”

“Thank you!” You said into your mic, laughing at the immediate screams from the crowd. You walked to your position, letting the dancers grab your waist as they pulled you to sit on two of their arms—a makeshift throne.

The lights dimmed as you got ready to perform. You tried to remember all the times you performed alone and channeled the energy of younger you.

While you would dance, you would focus mostly on having great vocals. This song was a taste into the title track, you needed to show a great intro.

The performance started with a slight hiccup when the back track started before you but you continued as if nothing happened. It allowed for your vocals to truly show anyway.

The major part of the song that seemed to get most of the crowd excited was when one of the dancers grabbed your tie and tugged you towards him. You couldn’t help the slight blush during that part, feeling oddly excited over it as well.

Was this a kink?

You ended the oddly homoerotic song with the dancers kneeling in front of you, your hand digging into one of the men’s hair.

Cheers erupted as soon as you were finished. You felt excited, hearing mostly male voices scream your name. The dancers immediately stood up and grabbed you, lifting you up in the air as you shrieked in shock. Your arms immediately wrapped around one of their shoulders at the sudden movement.

If only you knew just how angry this little action would make a certain someone.

The drive home felt long for some reason. Hyojin was on his phone so you decided to check how Miras were doing.

Not too surprising, not that many Miras talked about the performance. However non fans were praising it. Itsokokok had posted.

It was three posts, seems like he had a pattern. The first was of your recent performance. A short video of the moment when the dancer pulled your tie. Your face didn’t hide any of the hidden pleasure you got from that short moment.

During practice, the pull was never harsh so it really did shock you when he tugged it harder this time around.

Of course, the comments were filled with people thirsting. Mostly non fans—gay men in particular. The same Miras that actually liked you were thirsting over you while also gushing at how you finally had a solo activity.

Shocker, the NSFW side that talked about your members fucking you actually appreciated you.

The next post was of a pre-debut one. This time, it was a nineteen year old you preforming an original song. It was the song the company used to create the solo song you just preformed.

Most of the comments didn’t seem to notice this at all. You were mainly shocked the account owner even found this clip.

Lastly, it was a clip from the group’s occasional vlog. From the setting, it was of the time the group was planning Mingi’s nineteenth birthday. You were kneeling down as you picked something up.

The camera was just on you as you arched your back by pure instinct. You don’t even remember doing that. A laugh was heard from the camera man, you quickly noticed it was Yohan filming before video you looked back and glared at Yohan.

“Go do something useful!” You had yelled, “Minnie’s party has to be good. I won’t let you ruin it.”

@bluemuuun

↳ does his back naturally arch like that??

@hanniesmira

↳ his relationship with min is so cute.. i bet today’s performance killed min ㅋㅋㅋ

Before you could read the rest, the van reached the apartment complex. You and Hyojin left as you got inside. Hyojin waved you good night before going into his shared apartment with Kihyun.

You wondered back to his claim of the members all liking you.

That just didn’t make any sense.

As you moved to unlock the door to your apartment, it swung open, showing a pissed Mingi.

Fuck.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“How was the performance?”

Hyojin glanced over at Kihyun. He had just walked in and was set on just speed walking straight to his bedroom. Kihyun was sitting in the couch and didn’t look away from the tv.

“It was good, Hyung is a good performer.” Hyojin muttered, slipping off his shoes. He slipped off his coat and slowly walked over to the living room.

“Yeah, he is.”

“Well… I’ll go to bed—”

“Hyojin.”

Hyojin sighed, looking back at Kihyun. Kihyun was finally looking over at him. His piercing gaze made his back tense. The slight hums of the tv filled the odd tension as Hyojin fought the urge to just walk away. It was too late to be dealing with this.

“Are you… still upset about what I said this morning?” Kihyun finally said, his gaze softening.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kihyun stood up from the couch as he walked over to Hyojin. “I didn’t think it would upset you… I thought you were over him.”

Hyojin felt his jaw tighten, “you might’ve gotten over Hyung easily but I actually liked him. I liked him a lot—I only backed off because Mingi was right, (Name) Hyung would never see me romantically.”

“So… what’s the problem? Aren’t we—?”

“—dating?” Hyojin pinched his nose before letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, are we? You only want to have sex, nothing else. Even if we are ‘dating’—I won’t allow you to speak about my past feelings as if they were trivial.

“(Name) Hyung is an important part of my life, especially because he’s still here. It’d be different if he wasn’t around anymore. So I’m sorry, Hyung, my feelings for (Name) Hyung wasn’t some three second attraction like yours… If two years ago, (Name) Hyung had returned my feelings in anyway… I’d never have gotten with you.”

Kihyun sighed, “I didn’t mean it that way, Hyojin… I didn’t realize you had liked him that much. I—”

“Hyung.” Hyojin interrupted him. “Come back to me once you figure out if you want to be boyfriends or just fuck buddies. I’m not breaking myself over another guy.”

With that, he walked into his room, slamming the door shut.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Mingi immediately tugged you inside and glared at you. “What type of solo stage was that?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, moving to walk to your room. Mingi was already following you as you tried to keep yourself calm.

You were older! You’re the group leader… he needs to.. he can’t treat you like this.

Especially over a simple performance.

“Hyung.” Mingi’s voice was tight. “We’ve never performed a song like that before—the company never allowed it.”

“Well they’re just trying something new with me. They’ve finally noticed a group of people they can advertise me to. I can..” you placed your bag on your bed and sighed, “I can gain some fans that actually care about me.”

“Fans? Is that all you care about? What about the music?”

“Mingi, obviously I care about the music!” You said, staring at him as he stood in your doorway. “But it’s normal to want positive feedback from sharing your art! You get it all the time, I’ve seen how Miras react to you.”

“So what, you’ll feed into the silly relationship the company uses to get people’s money?!”

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Mingi, it’s not that serious. I’ve always wanted to do a sexy concept anyway—no one forced me.”

As you glanced back at him, any anger you had tempered down. You couldn’t be mad at him—not for long anyway. “I get it… you’re just worried but I consented to everything.” You muttered, hoping that would calm him down.

“So you consented to be whored out for some fans that only like you because they want to fuck you?”

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

A laugh left your lips as you stared straight at Mingi.

“Choi Mingi.” You whispered, your gaze hardening as your fists clenched. The words you wanted to say was in the tip of your tongue and if you weren’t so angry—you would’ve held back.

But you didn’t.

“Remember your place.” You said, walking over to him. “I am your Hyung, not your boyfriend. I’m not yours and you can’t act so possessive over me, do you understand? I don’t know what you told the others but it’s not your right to tell them to back off.”

“You—?”

“Yes I know! I’m not your boyfriend and I won’t ever be your boyfriend!” You yelled, pushing Mingi out of your room, causing him to bang his head right against the wall. He stared at you in shock as you froze. Any anger you had was gone as you wanted to rush and check if he was okay.

But you couldn’t.

You shouldn’t.

You cleared your throat as you glanced down at the ground. Your throat felt tight. “Choi Mingi, I don’t think you really love me… because if you did, you wouldn’t have insulted me to my face.”

A pained whimper left your throat as you quickly looked away from Mingi. “I’ll go… spend tonight with Hyojin. Don’t.. don’t bother me.. please.” You whispered, moving to leave as quickly as you could.

A hand gripped your arm before you could even step an inch away. Your body tensed as you waited to see what Mingi would say. He didn’t feel like that boy you knew… how much had he changed?

You reluctantly glanced back to see what he was going to say only to see him kneel down. Your eyes widen as he pressed his head against the floor, hands resting on the ground.

“죄송합니다. 죄송합니다, 형.”

“Mingi…” You whispered. You slowly knelt down and gripped at Mingi’s shoulders, pushing to make him sit up but he fought against you. He kept repeating himself, his words slowly being muffled by the sound of his gasps.

“Mingi. Choi Mingi.” With his refusal to look up, you decided to try a different method. “I’ll leave.. I’ll go to Hyojin if you don’t look at me.”

You got whiplash at how quick he looked up. Your gaze softening at the sight of his face. His eyes were red as tears streamed down his face, his face blotchy and red already. He kept gasping for air as if crying so hard was taking his breath away.

Despite yourself, you remembered the only other time he cried so hard in front of you.

“Childish. You really are childish.” You whispered, wiping away at his face. His body physically loosened at your touch as he leaned into it. Though you could tell he wasn’t coming any closer, even if his hands twitched to touch you.

It didn’t look like he was in the capacity to speak so you decided to do it for him.

“I’m upset, Mingi. I’m so upset you would hurt me like this. Were you jealous? Why would you say that about me?”

Mingi shook his head.

“Then why did you say that? What could you have possibly meant?”

“Scared..” he managed to mutter, taking a second to take a deep breath. “You’re… older… I’m… younger… the.. dancer… older… what if… what if you want an older man…? What if… you’ll leave me… because he’s better..”

You blinked, staring at him confusion. “Mingi, that’s so silly.” You whispered, cooing when he tried to glare at you—it didn’t pack a punch with his face wet with tears. “You were insecure and that’s okay… but that was not the way to go about it. Are you scared that… I’ll leave you if I get more fans?”

He hummed. “You… might… leave the group.”

“Why would I? You have solo activities but you don’t want to leave the group. I can have solo activities too. I like our group. You’re really acting your age, Mingi.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say as he immediately began to try and pull away. You pulled him back in quickly as you brought his face to yours.

“Next time, if you’re feeling a certain way, you can.. voice it? Instead of talking down on me, okay?” You said, giving him a slight smile. “But I’m happy you immediately apologized. I didn’t think you would do that.”

Mingi sniffled, finally sitting up straight. “It’s because I—”

You clamped his mouth shut, a blush on your face. Mingi only rolled his eyes. Even when he was sad he had the strength to roll his eyes. Wow.

Despite yourself, the previous anger wasn’t as strong anymore. You didn’t think you would be so easy to forgive but you were. Was it because he apologized? He seemed so sincere that you knew it wasn’t a joke—Mingi can’t cry on command, he’s tried many times.

Surprisingly only Kihyun could.

He… he really loved you?

“Minnie,” you said, unable to hide the smile at his eager gaze from hearing his nickname. “Is it true… that you told the other members to back off?”

Mingi frowned before he silently nodded.

“Why….?”

He pulled your hand away from his mouth as he looked away. “They didn’t love you like I do. It was just simple infatuation…”

“How could you be so sure?”

Mingi raised an eyebrow, “Hyung, I’ve trained with them since I was fourteen… I’ve known them longer than you do. Besides, it’s not like they fought me on it… well not all of them.”

“All of them…? Did…?”

“One person disagreed.”

“Who?”

“Secret.”

“Mingi.”

“Ah, I can’t really remember.”

“You and Hyojin are the same, little shits.” You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “But still, that was wrong of you. You shouldn’t mess with anyone else’s feelings.”

Mingi looked as if he wanted to talk back but simply nodded. “Okay… it was two years ago anyway.”

“Two years ago?”

“Mhm. On my nineteenth birthday.”

“Ah.”

You wanted to ask more but it looked like Mingi was done talking. He rubbed at his eyes as he began wiping at his tear stained face. While you weren’t angry anymore, you still weren’t exactly so forgiving without any work on Mingi’s part.

“Minnie,” you said, watching as he perked up. “I’m still mad… so you can’t touch me at all for a month.”

His eyes widen as he stared at you as if you just told him his parents died in a plane crash. His lips wobbled as a pained grunt left him, he was obviously trying to plead a case but the rational part of him knew not to push it.

He looked as if he’d cry again.

You only smiled. “Punishment for calling your Hyung a whore. I think I’m being quite nice, don’t you think?”

Mingi squared his jaw. “Yes, Hyung…”

“Good boy.” You whispered, smirking at his pained expression. “You can’t sleep with me tonight, unless you want to sleep on the floor. Night, Minnie.”

Mingi was going to have a tough month.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

→ have you guys seen this performance??

→ 씨발! If I had a dick it’d be hard ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

→ who is this???

→ he sounds so good??

→ wish I could pay attention to the lyrics but his ass is distracting me

→ 대박! He sounds so stable

→ I found his group performances!!! Why is he so underrated??

→ does he have any other solo work?

→ my dick hard

→ the group sings so well, I’ll tune in for their comeback!!

→ his photo cards are cheap!! I’ll buy a dozen ㅋㅋㅋ

→ I think I came

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Three years ago

Mingi was confused. He saw so many fan accounts for other members. Way too many for himself—he didn’t get what was so special about him. But little to none accounts solely for you. The group had debuted a year ago, surely someone likes you enough to create an account?

He sighed, scrolling through the lists of popular Miras accounts. Why weren’t they praising you? You were the best, a great singer, dancer, and leader.

Was it because you didn’t fit the Korean beauty standards?

How stupid.

Mingi didn’t care about what fans thought of him so long as they liked the music—but it seemed to bother you that no one was giving you any attention.

So, he decided to rectify that.

It took him a minute but he soon figured out how to create an account.

He chose his profile picture—a picture from the group’s season greetings, one where you had frosting on your nose as you smiled at the camera.

He’d never use social media before so his generic names for the account were all taken. He didn’t know what else to name the stupid account as, it was just so he could post pictures and videos of you.

After a short break before he mentally crashed out, he decided on a different name.

Itsokokok

It was a lyric from the group’s debut title track. Your first line of the song. Not many people would probably know but that was fine with him. The account was honestly mainly for him.

He didn’t know what his first post should be so he decided on a picture he took of you. Luckily he had posted it on the group’s Instagram so no one would think anything of it. It was a candid photo, you were looking up from your phone because he had called your name. You looked so cute despite how tired you were.

His first ever picture of you was his first ever post.

Shit, he was down bad.

no smut this time, sorry yall, but chapter three will give yall what’s deserved, next week Friday. Trying something different with this OC. Anyway, next chapter, he’s about to get freaky. Also can you guess who was the member that refused Mingi’s request? ;)

죄송합니다 — is the most formal way to say sorry in Korean

Tag list: @euthymiko @love-kha1 @iwishtobeacrow @chill-guy-but-cooler @tehyunnie @tomoeroi @smellwell @remdayz @star-3214 @mooncarvers-world @rhetorical-conscience @cherry-blossoms-187 @ofclyde @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @secretivemessenger @mello-life25 @yuzuukix @bensontrechic @onementally-unstabel-kid @me-when-life @bangbangdevotee @chaevvonders @bangchansdirty-slut @honey-valentin3 @hoshimochicchi @lucaisnothere @jaxyy219

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #male reader #oc x reader #smut drabble #male bottom reader #original character

2K notes · View notes

kithtaehyung · 2 months ago

Text

holiday (3tan special) | myg

title: holiday pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) | broken (pt. 2) | lollipop rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au, holiday au summary: from what you can gather, holiday gift exchanges are supposed to be pretty straightforward. but this one quickly escalates. because no one can follow directions. note: this is all thanks to the person that suggested a 3tan crew secret santa! they don’t do actual secret santa, but they do host a gift exchange. so enjoy this speedily but still tenderly written holiday special! i wanted to get it posted asap so that we could all have it during the holiday season. hope it helps lifting spirits in any way<3 warnings: yoongi looks like sin, but reader does too🤭, kissing, no one follows directions, but especially jimin, hella kissing, no fr jimin is chaos incarnate, sibling holiday woes, tense situations, tender moments, gift exchanges, dialogue heavy i’m so sorry, also not too edited i'm sorry again sdfkljdskl. reader is adorable y'all i wanna cry, 3tan crew being wholesome af drop date: december 27th, 2024, 8:37pm est word count: 8.1k bc i love y’all???

“Wait… I’m in this, too?”

Your brother winces while checking his phone, probably also seeing the texts that Jimin sent to a freshly created group chat. “Tae and Chim roped us in this time. But it’s cool if you don’t wanna.”

As you both don work attire in your foyer, you shake your head, one hand firm on your bag strap, “I don’t even know how they work.”

“I think we random draw names. Then just give a gift to whoever we get.”

Seeing the names and numbers in here, you’re already running through a lot of possibilities. Maybe too many possibilities. But you don’t wanna make things more complicated or awkward, so you quickly concede, “I mean.. I’m down if you are.”

“I guess it’s cool.”

Head lowered, you notice that your brother’s shoes are the ones you gave him for his birthday a couple years ago. Because those days are the only ones you both celebrate every passing run of three hundred and sixty-five. “At least we’re doing something this year.”

He chuckles to his feet. “Two years in a row.”

Your sad laugh tumbles and rolls next to his. “Wild.”

“Hey.” When he pauses, it’s to wait for you to look up. “If you ever wanna talk about it, we can.”

There are a lot of times in which you dismiss your brother. Because it’s just what siblings do.

This time is not one of them.

“Same,” you offer, the weight of the world dragging your smile down.

He gives you a hug, and you feel the luxury press of his suit as you lean in with scrunched brows.

Two years in a row.

Maybe things do suck less with time.

When you both head out the door to your cars, you wonder if your brother knows how much you appreciate him and his friends for including you in things. Even if you don’t show it as much as you need to.

Guess this time of year is a good place to start.

Work drags in the wake of oncoming holiday.

But you’re learning to appreciate the decorations around the office, including the little cards that coworkers have given you at your desk—despite your many protests that they didn’t have to.

When you look up, you start to notice other things. Like the way people smile just a little more. Or the way peppermint and cider waft around the building, smelling of sweet instead of spice.

You wonder if Jungkook has decorated the studio, too. Or if he recruited everyone else to help with decorations, which means that Yoongi and the guys had to fuss with lights and whatever else people spend money on.

Laughing to your many stacks of papers and documents, you start daydreaming of what it would be like to decorate the house.

Would you and your brother do it someday? You do admit that it’s kinda nice to look around the neighborhood. And when you went into the mountains last year, you concede that the surrounding town decor was pretty inviting.

Maybe your house would be a little brighter on the inside too if you both just…

You get a notification on your phone. When the screen brightens, you see that it’s for the app that shuffles you all for the gift exchange.

You have no fucking clue what you’re doing.

But here goes.

Opening and hoping you get someone that’s easy to please, you stare at your device and blink a few very hard times.

And after every time, you still get a name that has your heart quickening faster than reindeer working overtime. It’s reindeer, right? You think that’s cor—

“You okay?”

Snapping your head up, you notice that one of your coworkers stopped mid-stride to check on you. Staring at his candy cane tie, you try not to be distracted as you slightly cringe,

“What do I get a guy for the holidays?”

“Friend or lover?”

Well, that was not what you expected to hear!

When your jaw unhinges, you’re quick to snap it back into place. “Umm.”

“Oh, this is juicy,” he perks up, quickly settling into a nearby chair and resting a strong chin in his hand. “Tell me more, I got time.”

Laughing, you shake your head while pretending to type on your computer. “Nothing to tell.”

“That means you got a whole lot.” His eyes are way too shiny right now! “But alright, I’m gonna assume both. In which case, I suggest something nice.”

“Something nice?”

“You know, like. Nice nice.”

“It’s for a gift exchange, though,” you slump, hands stopping on the keys. Looking at his whole holiday ensemble, you divulge, “The money limit’s definitely not enough for nice nice.”

“Then fuck the limit?”

Your answer is more of a sound than a word.

But he does get you to consider, even if just for a little bit. “Maybe…”

“Fuck the limit,” he advises again. “He’s gonna dig that. Especially since everyone will see it.”

Your face falls from the snowy sky. “Everyone?”

“Uhh, yeah? You said gift exchange, right? Everyone sees what everyone gets.”

“Oh. Right,” you pretend to agree to your computer. Because no, you actually didn’t know that. “Guess it’s been awhile.”

“Well, that’s what makes it fun! Good luck.”

While you would normally agree, you have a whole hoard of conflicting feelings. Because while seeing Yoongi’s name on your screen is enough to get you giddy as hell, you know there’s a couple people that may not share the same sentiments. Especially if you gift him something nice nice.

In front of everybody.

However…

As your striped and jingling coworker strides away with a hum, you drum your fingers on your minimally decorated desk.

Maybe there is a way you can finess this.

After a few weeks, the day has come for not just one exchange, but two—your friends also decided to have your own. Because it’s the easiest format, you convinced them with logic, seeing their shock at you being the one to suggest the exchange in the first place.

When they asked if you were sure, you assured them that it was okay. And the way they all brightened told you that you made a sound decision. Even if they still seemed hesitant, you know it’s because…

You’ve never done this.

So as you observe everyone in your bare living room, you start to see how their presence alone illuminates the space, with gifts in shine and glitter painting the area in holiday colors.

This is nice.

“So… Uhh.” You clear your throat, watching everyone look at you at the head of your coffee table. “How do we do this?”

They all laugh before Taehyung explains, “So one of us goes first and says who we got before giving the gift—you can sit, you know.”

In the midst of more teasing, you settle onto the floor while exclaiming, “I’m nervous, okay! This is really new to me.”

“You have a gift to give, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Then you’re already doing great,” Reia assures, and you’re even more excited to give yours away. Because you drew her name.

But before you can say that, Taehyung continues, “So after someone gets their gift, they announce who they picked, and so on.”

“Pretty straightforward,” you observe. “I wanna go first!”

Dom cackles, “You just wanna get it out of the way.”

“And?” you question, grinning when you shoot up and grab your very amateurishly wrapped bag. “Okay, okay, I got…”

“This is adorable,” Yuri cuts in, and everyone’s agreement makes you suddenly shy.

“No! Don’t make fun.”

“We aren’t!” Taehyung reaches out to rub your leg. “Promise. Who’d you get?”

“I got… Reia!” You exclaim, raising your bag a bit as she yells with everyone. The sudden raise of noise gets you a little shocked, but hyped nonetheless. And maybe a bit nervous that your gift won’t live up to the excitement. “Sorry about the wrapping job.”

“What are you talking about, this is so good,” Reia soothes, smiling wide as she delicately takes out the folded paper. “Wow, the wrapping is nice?”

Dom chimes in as she leans in, “Yeah, this is too good. Did you watch videos?”

“Uh huh.”

Everyone laughs again as you keep your nose held high. Because sucky or not, you were not gonna half-ass your first ever gift exchange. With seasoned people, at that. No way.

When Reia opens the gift you carefully picked while perusing through a local music store, you watch with the anticipation of a small child, eyes wide and waiting. Hoping that the best outcome is the real outcome.

And when she quietly yells behind her hand, everyone cheers while asking what she got. When she turns the package around, they cheer even more, because it’s a guitar pick set in her favorite colors. And one that you knew was so, very much her.

She stands up immediately and opens her arms for a hug, and you blink before getting lovingly crushed.

“Thank you,” she whispers in your ear. “This is more than great.”

“Of course, babe,” you murmur back, feeling her jean jacket under your palms and a beating in your chest. “Thank you, too.”

The rest of the exchange goes off without a hitch, with you cheering with everyone and understanding the cues more and more. Everyone’s gifts are wonderful, and Yuri’s the last to go out of the five of you.

And she got your name.

You figured giving the gift would be the hardest part.

But somehow, this part is a lot harder.

Braving it anyway—because there’s ironically no time like the present—you carefully unwrap the thin package and stare at what’s inside.

It’s a photocard. But the picture is of the five of you, one that Taehyung took with his long ass arms while the four of you huddled behind him with drinks in hand. Around its edges are stickers, hearts and stars and cute little animals.

And it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Yuri rushes over to ask if you don’t like it.

“This is the best thing ever,” you choke out, and she smiles before laughing and tearing up, too. “I love us.”

“We’re the best, duh.”

“Got that right,” Dom adds to the air while Reia and Taehyung start cleaning up the wrapping scraps. “You like your first gift exchange?”

“I should’ve joined y’all sooner.”

“Joined us?” Taehyung looks up from the ground. “What do you mean?”

“Oh. I figured you guys do this every year.”

Tae looks at Yuri, who then looks at you again before very seriously admitting, “We’ve never done this, either. Not with each other.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She taps the back of your now most precious, most coveted photocard ever. “We didn’t even think about it since you wouldn’t be there.”

Smiling at your prized possession, you vow,

“I’ll be here now.”

Regarding all of them, you start to decorate your place in your mind. Seeing where all the lights go. Where all the little trinkets hang, or whatever. You don’t quite know how this goes just yet, but you do know there’s trees involved. So that’s gonna be figured out in a year’s time.

“I’m not missing this again.”

With bellies full of laughter and a little bit of cider, you and your friends head over to Jimin’s cul-de-sac.

Dom took the wheel this time, so you get to stare out the passenger side window, eyes reflecting golds and colors as you take in the surrounding lights.

Were they always this pretty? You don’t remember being so taken by electricity and staggering electric bills, especially the houses that go all out and cover every nook of their yard in lights.

But it’s a spectacle on every corner and street, and Jimin’s little half circle of houses keeps the holiday illumination alive.

“Uhh, I think we can park down there,” you point, noticing there’s some space a little bit beyond the street. It’s alarmingly next to where Yoongi had to park once, and you cherish that memory with stars in your eyes.

“Everyone have their gifts?”

“Tae, if anyone lost theirs on the way here, we have other issues.”

It’s a quick walk to Jimin’s, and the music around the house gets louder as you approach his entrance. There are people already set up in his open garage playing what you assume are card games, and everyone greets your group as you pop in to say hi.

“Hey!” Namjoon calls. “Y’all are late! Everyone’s inside.”

“We had our own party first,” you call out, struggling with your gift bags and food tray. “Can someone—”

Before you finish your ask, you smell nice cologne and feel a big presence at your side.

When you look to see who’s assisting, you slow in your motions before uttering a small,

“Thank you.”

Jungkook slightly smiles as he grabs your last bag. “Your perfume’s nice,” he compliments behind tousled bangs. Which makes you blink because that comment is more than hard to come by from him.

So you can only grin. “Just got it,” you explain as you follow your friends inside the house. “It’s a dupe, can you believe it?”

“Damn! It’s a good one.”

“I know,” you agree, very proud of your find. Taking the gift bags from his hands, you tilt your head. “Can you bring the tray to the kitchen?”

“On it.”

When you make your way to your friends at the front area, they all eye you with concern. But you wave it off and shrug off your coat to hang on the loan coat hanger—earning teasing and whistles.

“Shut up,” you groan, laughing with everyone before straightening the reason for the noises. It’s a dress you’ve been eyeing specifically for holiday parties. Because as soon as you started to shop for your gift exchanges, that quickly spiraled into shopping for outfits to wear to them. Did your coworker spook you into looking good because it was a public event? Maybe. Absolutely.

So you shopped around before finding a dress that even you knew you looked good in. And the past couple weeks were the longest stretches ever because of your anticipation to wear it again.

As you and your newest fit walk into the kitchen, you start to greet everyone, giving them hugs and smiling bright at their compliments. Because you feel good. You feel nice. Maybe you’re just drinking the holiday cheer and letting it consume you but you don’t care because it’s fun this time. This isn’t like any other year, and it’s wonderful.

But then.

Even the most wonderful moments have to come to a halt.

And yours crash when you see Yoongi.

Leaned back on one of the kitchen counters, his body appears relaxed in another damn black button-up, telltale silver chain hanging from a neck you wanna devour in front of the whole house.

He was already annoying last year. But this time, his hair’s longer, and made up with just the right amount of disarray and a little bit even tucked behind his ear.

Fuck, this is so much worse!

If he wasn’t so attractive and magnetizing, you’d have way less than ninety-nine problems. It would be a lot closer to zero.

But you make your way over to him anyway, because of course you would. Of course he knew you would, too.

“Hi,” you greet him, hands tingling with the desire to cup his beautiful chin and yank him in for a kiss.

But he greets you back while giving you a hug, not without giving you a very obvious once-over.

“Beautiful,” he whispers in your ear before pulling away, which can only make you babble out,

“What?”

He grins wide. “You look nice.”

Oh. Oh, he really did say that. Why are you surprised? Why are you always surprised? But you have to stay poised so you stick with a neutral,

“So do you.”

“Thanks,” he says with a sly curve, still leaning back on the counter with a drink in hand. “Say something else.”

“Goodbye forever,” is what you go with, back heating with his staccato laughs following your speedy retreat.

No, no, no. He cannot notice how excited you are to give him his gift. Your bubbling excitement needs to be projected elsewhere. Because you know you picked perfect. It’s something you know he’d appreciate.

But he cannot have his ego inflated anymore or else the house would float to the sky.

But fucking hell, he looks damn good and he knows it.

After an hour or so of socializing and keeping to your little friend circle, Jimin gets everyone together in the big living room to do the exchange.

“Okay! One, two… Okay, we’re all here, so. Who’s gonna start?”

When someone calls his name, the man grins and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m host.”

“So shouldn’t you be the one to start?”

“My house, my rules!” Jimin argues with zest, pointing to the guy that dared to challenge him, “So you go first.”

And that man just so happens to secretly be yours.

Shouts erupt around the living room, and you can mostly hear Hoseok and Seokjin since they’re closest,

“Go, Yoong!”

“Ah, Yoongi’s first for a change.”

Secretly and not so secretly, you’re hoping and wishing that he pulled your name. But the odds of that would be pretty slim if you pulled him, even though it was an even chance across the board.

But as he gets up from the arm of Jimin’s couch holding a small gift bag, you determine that maybe it’s best if he didn’t pull your name. Because you already had trouble opening Yuri’s gift. How the hell would you control yourself opening his?

“K, uhh. I got…”

Wait, he’s looking towards you from across the room.

Shit. Is it happening?

You?

“Taehyung.”

A pang of disappointment and relief shoots through your veins, even when you shout with everyone while watching Tae smile from his place right next to you.

Yoongi walks right up to your seats, which are really some extra fold-out chairs by Jimin’s decorated tree. And he smells so good. Why do you have to be close to him again?

But this moment is about Taehyung, so you watch as he opens the gift. When there’s a small box inside the bag, he opens that to reveal a nice, slim… wallet?

Wait, is that leather?

Your mouth drops as everyone’s up and raising questions already, and you can clearly hear Jungkook and your brother protest the highest,

“Wait, huh?”

“We set a limit for a reason!”

Yoongi’s hands stay in his pockets when he refutes, “It was on sale.”

“Nah, he’s lying!”

Taehyung doesn’t know what to say, so when he looks at you, it takes all your strength to encourage him neutrally,

“It’s so you! Deserved.”

Yoongi looks at you before asking your friend, “Is it okay?”

“It’s perfect,” Taehyung says, full of gratefulness. “I’m just shocked.”

Jimin and Shiv chuckle from one of the couches,

“Oh? He’s never shocked.”

“This is new.”

Yoongi smiles as Tae gets up to hug him, and you’re immediately okay not being the one receiving anything right now.

Because you don’t need anything from him.

All you want is his happiness.

Once the initial gift is given, everyone goes down the line. And you’re feeling a little lighter after knowing who Yoongi got. Also, you feel less and less awkward about your gift, since the chaos of Yoongi’s was only the beginning.

Because when Taehyung gifts your brother a chain, everyone’s up and yelling again while your sibling is shocked to hell.

On one end of the living room, Namjoon shakes his grinning head while Jungkook throws his back,

“Alright, there needs to be a penalty for the most expensive gift.”

“We obviously didn’t give a shit about the limit.”

Everyone’s laughter fills the house, even drowning out the faint holiday music floating from the surround speakers.

Immediately clipping on his necklace, your brother shouts, “Am I the only one that stuck to what we agreed on?”

“Sucks for who got yours then.”

Everyone starts laughing or reprimanding Yoongi for saying that—you with a cackle included.

But then your brother busts out a fucking watch for Shiv and everyone goes bananas.

At this point, Taehyung’s fully laughing behind his fingers on his forehead, and Jimin collapses on a gawking Yoongi when Shiv quite literally jumps up.

“What the hell? Dude, I can’t take this.”

“Yes, you can! And you will.”

Fingers are pointing in every direction while people are calling each other liars, and your brother laughs on like a gremlin.

But it’s all so adorable that your heart is squeezing. Shiv’s damn near tearing up. “I’ve been eyeing this one for forever.”

“I know! You wouldn’t stop running your damn mouth about that thing.” Your older sibling claps him on the shoulder. “You can shut up now,” he says with a grin, and Shiv gives him a big hug.

“Thanks, man.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

Shiv’s turn. And everyone is waiting for what he decided to gift.

Turns out he keeps the shenanigans going by gifting Jungkook a luxury tie set.

The blond’s jaw drops as he stares hard at the package. Looking up quick, he has to ask for sure, “A set, dude?”

“It was on sale!”

“Again?”

“Are we all gonna say the same lie?”

Everyone can’t hide their amusement, with creased eyes and fake annoyance in every seat. Jungkook can’t believe his luck, since he’s been telling himself to get dress clothes forever but hasn’t gotten around to it.

“You gotta dress like a man now, kid,” Shiv tells him with a bright smile. “There’s a lot coming now that you’re making it.”

A light bulb softly glows when you realize that Yoongi might need to do the same. Trying not to look obvious, you peek in his direction.

As he stares at the floor, you already know he’s mulling over the same thoughts.

But it’s Jungkook’s turn now, and you still haven’t gotten a gift yet.

So you’re waiting with all the air in your lungs.

As the blond teases his pick, the studio boys are quick to handle him as Yoongi only huffs.

“I got… I got… I got, I got, I got, I got—”

“Kook, just say it.”

“Always like this.”

“Jimin!”

Your heart beats again as the host pops up from his couch, everyone cheering as Kook meets him in the center. Around you, speculation from your friends mixed with a little laughter spikes,

“He probably stuck to the limit.”

“Definitely.”

“Jimin’s gonna be the only one left with—”

Cackles and screams rip as Jimin kicks his head back in laughter, because in his hands is a sleek white box that everyone recognizes.

This man got Jimin designer shades.

Your cheeks hurt as you react with everyone, giddy and bubbly with how absolutely ridiculous this whole night has gone. Everyone accusing each other of cheating, while all the while every single gift has been over the top.

You really don’t feel bad about revealing your gift anymore. Quite honestly, you almost feel more bad about it not being enough.

No. It’s enough.

Yours is the best and you stick to that.

Jimin takes the sunglasses out of the box and protective pouch, slipping them on and modeling immediately.

Oh’s and ah’s echo before his friends inflate his ego,

“Damn, you sure you aren’t a model?”

“You’re one step away.”

“He really is.”

He looks great and he knows it. And he carefully puts them back in their packaging before giving Jungkook a hug. They exchange conversation, and you can feel the latter’s smile as he laughs before sitting down.

Suddenly, you have the strongest intuition that you’re next. On Jimin’s turn. He’s getting out a very nice bag from behind a couch and your brain is firing off.

“Okay! The best gift is going to…”

You were right. He calls your name.

Smiling, you shakily stand as Jimin approaches, a twinkling look in those features glowing in incandescent lights.

Eyes on you. Many eyes.

A little overwhelmed, you thank him before sitting down. Because it’s much easier to do this while on a solid, structured surface.

“Hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Best gift? What could Jimin possibly mean by—

Your scream shoots out as you clamp the bag shut because no fucking way you saw what you just saw in there.

Jimin’s laughing his ass off but it’s not funny.

“Jimin, what the fuck!” Now you know how Shiv felt and he is absolutely valid for his reaction. “I can’t accept this.”

People are concerned around you, and you quickly think they may have the wrong idea.

“What did he get?”

“What’s in there?”

Quelling some thoughts, you explain, “It’s a box.”

“Okay?”

You just gotta say it. They’re all gonna know as soon as you take it out anyway. So you breathe out,

“…It’s Dior.”

It’s the loudest it’s been all night, even though your friends are completely speechless. All the guys are up in arms and Jia’s scream for penalty can be heard through the chaos,

“What!”

“Where’s my Dior?”

“What the fuck?”

“Jimin…”

“Okay, that is way over limit! That’s cheating!”

“Penalty!”

Jimin’s sneaky smile as he turns around doesn’t help, “You know I get everything for less.”

“So?”

“Still, what the hell, man!”

You know Jimin works there. You do. But this is still making your limbs jelly and you can’t even speak.

There’s no way Dior is passed around at every gift exchange.

“You deserve it. For dealing with him.” He looks at your brother, but the look in his eyes is too sparkly to be completely truthful. Does he mean Yoongi? Or is he being serious?

Of course, your sibling throws out a droning, “Wow.”

After lots of shaky unboxing, you reveal a stunning bracelet, your friends bending down around you to gawk at how brilliant it is. Dancing in your fingers, this piece shimmers and gleams, and every single person is quiet.

Guilt. You feel guilt.

And you can’t even look at the reason why.

“Whatever you’re feeling, don’t. It’s okay.”

You’re tearing up because it’s way too nice. Which proves worse because you also feel bad for crying for the sole fact that Yoongi’s watching. You don’t want him to get the wrong idea.

You get up to hug him. “I… This is really nice, Jimin. Thank you.”

“Stop by the store sometime,” he offers with a smile. “Maybe I can slip more in your purse.”

“Easy,” your brother eyes him.

“So are we all getting fancy gifts or what?”

“Nope! Ran out of my discount, sorry.”

“Wow.”

When you finally glance around, everyone’s either a mix of shock and awe, visibly confused, or just jealous and wondering what the hell just happened.

Meanwhile.

Yoongi straight up looks like he’s holding his tongue.

And you suddenly feel really bad.

Hopefully giving him his gift will make up for what just happened. Even though you’re going after the hardest hitter of the damn night, this one’s special.

But who are you kidding? People are definitely gonna talk in private about Jimin’s little gift.

So now you have to try and mend this while acting like Yoongi’s just your brother’s friend. Cool. Awesome.

“So...”

Just try your goddamned best.

“Yoongi is mine.”

…Wait.

Your secret looks your way immediately while everyone snaps their heads to him.

What the fuck did you say?

Wait wait wait wait what did you fucking say?

Flapping your arms, you reach for words while everyone starts teasing, “Oh, god. I mean—I have Yoongi—I mean, wow. Hold on.”

Fucking fuck fuck, he’s grinning.

Thank the lord above for someone cheekily asking,

“First time at a gift exchange?”

You look away from the laughs while trying to compose your grin of embarrassment. Get it the fuck together, this is peak time to get it right.

“God. Okay.” You look down at your bag. All of its carefully folded and primped paper, the delicate folding inside. “For the gift exchange,” you clarify with a forced firm tone, “I got Yoongi.”

You feel Dom try her damned best to hide her laugh. And you know for damn sure Jimin and Taehyung are thoroughly amused right now.

All the oh’s sounding off in the living room are already enough to set your ears smoking. Your brother’s voice can be heard, but you know that’s for a specific reason.

Everything had to be carefully calculated, after all.

You walk up to him, and you cannot—absolutely cannot—look too long at the way he’s looking up at you. Him sitting in any capacity is enough to drive you up a wall, but now? When he looks so freshly fitted and prepping to tease you about all this later? You can barely think straight.

“I don’t think I can beat Jimin’s gift,” you sigh to his curious eyes. “But it’s a little too late to change.”

His smile turns so soft. He shouldn’t be the one comforting you right now when you probably broke a little of his heart. “It’s all good.”

Keep going.

Cleaning your clogged throat, you brave the crowd and breathe before starting again, “Anyway. This is kinda from both of us, but I picked it because I have better taste.”

“Hey, what the hell?”

Ignoring your brother’s protest, you watch as Yoongi softly opens the gift before pulling out a basketball jersey.

Of his favorite player.

“Holy shit.”

Shouts start erupting behind your back as you laugh, your sneaky gift joining the rest of them.

“Hello? That’s way too much!”

“That’s over the limit for sure.”

You wave your hands frantically among their teasing arguments, and your brother chimes in on your side. “I didn’t know what to get!”

“So you got a real jersey?”

“Relax, y’all. It’s from both of us.”

“Wait, which one’s Lillard again?”

“Damian,” Yoongi softly says in awe. “How’d you know?”

You can only blink, smiling faltering by the slightest amount.

Fuck, he’s gonna be cheeky right now? Knowing you know and exactly how you know? Cuddled up with him in his bed as he shows you highlight reels and tells you the guy’s whole story and that he happens to be a rapper, too?

Looking back towards your brother, you explain, “Well... He gave me a list. And I just picked off vibes.”

Yoongi’s eyes sparkle so much when he grins. “Good choice,” he compliments with creased eyes. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” You say back with a little too high of a pitch. “But tell him he still owes you a gift. This doesn’t count for him.”

“Uhh, it sure as fuck does!”

Yoongi breaks eye contact to shout behind you, “Didn’t you already tell me you got me something?”

“Yeah, it was that!”

“What a lie,” Yoongi says through a smile.

“Yeah, I did,” your brother surrenders. “The shoes are in my bag. Okay, next!”

Hilariously, two pairs of people end up getting each other. Yuri’s older sister Jia got Seokjin, who also drew her name—to the slight angst of your brother, you imagine.

And Hoseok ends up getting Namjoon. Which turns out being twice as funny because they both got each other the same pair of earphones. You can’t breathe with how hard you cackle with everyone, and your heart skips when you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s eyes across the room.

By the end of the exchange, everyone’s bellies and cheeks sting from laughter, and every eye in sight has twinkles embedded inside.

Throughout the night, everyone starts branching off into different groups. You and your friends talk in the kitchen, and both in and out of the house, there’s groups of games and conversations.

The holiday decorations everywhere shine bright. Enveloped in the music, you keep looking at the lights, feeling happy but a little bittersweet.

You really wanna set the record straight with Yoongi. You had no damn clue that Jimin was gonna give something like that, much less in front of everyone.

The fact that you haven’t been in the same room for a bit makes it worse. What could he be thinking right now? You can’t tell because he’s nowhere in sight.

Screw it. You’re gonna at least text him. There’s no way you can survive the night if you’re gonna plague your own head without checking in with him.

Fishing out your phone, you sidestep away for a second to type something quick.

You [10:38pm]: i know it’s not dior.. but hope you like your gift :’))

Yoongi [10:38pm]: You know I do. It’s perfect, doll.

Well. He texted back super quick.

Maybe he’s really okay? Maybe he and Jimin already talked it through?

Then again.. Yoongi didn’t look happy at all during the big reveal. To the point where he was actively showing emotions you rarely get to see.

But if he says he likes his gift, that’s a good sign.

You [10:42pm]: i can’t believe jimin did that

Yoongi [10:42pm]: That was bold.

You [10:42pm]: seriously!!!

Hmm. So he didn’t know. That’s even more surprising than him knowing, now that you think about it.

You’re called over to get another round of food, and you turn down the initial invite but stay around as they get more to eat.

When you see a tray that smells way too good, you do break and get a piece anyways.

“Yeah, those are amazing,” Yuri chirps. “Shiv made those.”

“Really?” Dom grabs a couple pieces. “Lemme try these then.”

“You’re gonna want more.”

As you find a place outside to eat, you stand next to the heater while conversing with Taehyung. It’s adorable how you can tell how excited he is about his gift, turning it in his hand before pocketing the leather again.

“It’s so nice,” you compliment.

“He knows how to pick, I guess,” Tae smiles, looking at you and making you shy. Because hello? There’s no way he’s gonna be bringing that up tonight.

When you silently mouth for him to shut up, he grins like a madman. Glancing down at your hands, he suddenly asks, “Are you gonna put that down?”

“No,” you say with a tiny pang of guilt. “Afraid not.”

“Mm.”

Your phone buzzes again, and you’re thankful for the interruption.

Yoongi [11:09pm]: Guess I have to do better😔

Instantly, you take that gratefulness back.

You [11:09pm]: NO!! you don’t have to worry about me at all

Yoongi [11:10pm]: I can’t lose to you

You [11:10pm]: trust me, i just…

You think about sending the other text or not. But you do anyway.

Taehyung sees the look in your faraway face, but doesn’t comment as you peer down again.

You [11:11pm]: i just wanna see you happy

That’s all you want. If he’s happy, you’re happy. So it sucks to have part of the night come as quite the shock.

Interestingly enough, though.. Someone else in the house should also be pretty upset about your gift, and you haven’t seen Jimin cornered by him yet.

Unless your brother is just deciding to be courteous and beat his ass after everyone leaves.

Yoongi [11:13pm]: Then come over here

You’re not gonna argue with that.

So when your friends finish their plates, you suggest you all head into the garage. It’s already rowdy before you open the door, so the sounds get booming loud when you all enter.

Looks like everyone is blowing their money on other things tonight, too. The gifts were the nice part of the party; now everyone is fiending to take everyone’s cash.

“Damn, Yoongi’s clearing me out.”

“Told you not to go all in.”

“He did.”

As the cold weather rolls in, you watch as the games go on, with heaters humming with energy and your brother’s friends radiating competition.

No wonder Yoongi wanted you in here.

He’s on a damn roll.

As everyone groans after another win, Namjoon and your brother are in tatters,

“Yoong, what the fuck!”

“You hiding cards in those sleeves?”

“I told you!” Yoongi boasts, “Don’t get too cocky.”

“Says him.”

“Cocky, my ass.”

When you laugh, you earn a tiny glimpse of his eyes. But as his vision falls to your hands, you’re quick to look away, out into the night to look at all the lights instead.

Shit.

After some time passes, you find yourself alone on a balcony. Yet again. Cold wind blows through your coat, chilling you but making you feel alive. Too alive in this moment. Too aware.

The holidays aren’t so bad this time around. But you do need to set this one thing straight before things go a little sideways with Yoongi.

If he’s upset, you don’t want him to be. Even if he doesn’t say it, you want him to know you’re considering his feelings. There’s some things you just can’t control.

So you wait for Jimin, telling him earlier to meet you up here for the best chance at privacy.

When you hear the door opening, you see him come through, hair lifting in the breeze and his lips in a slight curve.

Get right to it. “Jimin, I—”

“Isn’t it so nice tonight?”

Stopping, you settle into a smile, watching him walk up to stand next to you before you both look into the night. The neighborhood glows beneath your feet, and everyone in the backyard mingles while puffs of air leave their lips.

“It really is,” you say with a smile, clutching the gift bag in cold fingers. Because you haven’t let go of it ever since it was given to you—it’s way too expensive. You’ve been guarding it all night.

Which is why you need to hand it back to the one who gave it to you. “We haven’t done something like this before, so.. It’s a nice change of pace.”

Jimin turns before realizing something. “Oh. I meant the weather.”

Embarrassed, you let out a laugh while his eyes crease. “Ah. That, too.”

“Got deep real fast.”

“Jimin!”

Both of you puff out laughter as you look down, just in time to see someone gazing right up at you. Someone that makes your heart squeeze on sight.

Oh, shit. Is he gonna get the wrong idea again?

You need to do this quick. Yoongi can’t be let down more than once tonight.

Sighing, you start to hold up the bag again. “Thank you—”

“He’s lucky you came around when you did.”

“Huh?”

Jimin leans on the railing before eyeing you with a smile. “You don’t even know, do you.”

“I don’t…” When you look below, Yoongi’s not looking anymore. And you panic. “Jimin, thank you. But I seriously can’t take this.”

Why does he look so calm? Why does he keep acting like this isn’t a big deal? “You can.”

“No, really. I—”

“I may have gone too far this time.”

Your eyes still as you breathe out a confused, “...What?”

Jimin’s face is dusted with peach in the cold, and you get a good view of his jawline as he peers down below with a regretful curve. “I kinda tricked him,” he admits. “Into picking your gift for the exchange.”

The shock you feel prevents you from even blinking. How the hell can this get even more overwhelming? “What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I got some good discounts.” Jimin turns around to lean against the railing. “So I thought it would be fun to rope him into getting you something.”

When he laughs to the chilly night sky, you don’t join him—the shock is preventing you from doing anything.

“Didn’t think he’d pick a whole bracelet, though. Made for one hell of a gift exchange pick.” He looks at you at a tilt. “You like it, right?”

Even if Yoongi was the one to pick out the jewelry, Jimin still had to purchase the damn thing. And even with his discount, it’s still expensive as hell. It has to be. You haven’t let go of the bag once because you don’t want to lose it. “But you still had to pay,” you blurt out. “I’ll find a way to pay you back if you aren’t gonna take it.”

“I didn’t pay for it, either.”

Your heart stops.

Full on halts.

When he turns his head, he looks toward the sky in thought. “Well, I did secretly pay the exchange limit. But..” He straightens before staring back at your absolute silence, dropping the biggest surprise of the whole night,

“Yoongi paid the difference.”

The sudden sob that leaves your throat startles him immediately, and he rushes forward to put hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—”

The sound of a door slides open, and you turn to see your favorite, favorite, favorite person walking through. You must look like a wreck but you don’t care, don’t care, don’t care.

“I’ll leave you both to it then,” Jimin says to your watery eyes before squeezing, heading out to give you both the quiet space you need.

But Yoongi clutches his arm as he walks by, and you hold your breath as he stares him in the eye, voice burning with a steady glow,

“Don’t pull that shit again.”

“I know,” Jimin agrees without pause. “I owe you one.”

“No one comes up here then.” Yoongi releases him slow. “Until I come back down.”

The host of the night shares a quick hand clutch before assuring, “You got it.”

Bag clutched tight in your hands, you watch in wonder as Yoongi approaches you with a quiet determination. His presence alone makes your heart beat warm and soft, but you cannot stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks.

All you can ask as he gets close is a wondrous, “Why..?”

“He’s a very persuasive salesman.” When you wipe your eyes, he helps with a little look of tenderness. Though there’s still some frustration evident in his features. “But I didn’t know it would be for tonight.”

“Oh, shit,” you sigh. “Why did he do that?”

“I’m not sure.” Yoongi holds your chin, rubbing your frosty cheek with a handworking thumb. “Taehyung didn’t know he’d do it, either.”

“Tae knew, too?”

“Yeah. He thought I had it, not Chim.” He sighs to the side, hair lifting slightly in the breeze. “I almost stood up when you screamed.”

Your heart shrugs off some chill. “Really?”

Yoongi nods before looking up with scrunched brows. “It took all of me to keep my ass down. Honestly, I’m still pissed the fuck off.”

You believe that. One hundred percent, you believe that. Because you’ve never seen him talk to Jimin like that before tonight.

Reaching to cradle one of his cheeks, you feel how cold he is before whispering to soothe, “Tell me how you wanted it to go.”

When Yoongi looks at you, your lips curve into a small smile. Peppered with a bit of your tears and willingness to make him feel better.

He softly grips your hand on his face before turning to kiss your fingers. Voice low, he reveals, “I was gonna take you straight to dinner. After you got off work one day.” Another set of kisses makes your fingers both hot and cold. “Then I would’ve faked needing something from the studio. And you would’ve gotten it there.”

“Oh…” You blink as your vision blurs. “That’s…”

“Among other things.”

At his suggestive look, you playfully pat his jacket. But your heart starts leaking from your eyes.

Because you just want it all to be out already. Just everything. Everything, everything, everything, you’re so tired of keeping it under wraps.

“What’s wrong, doll.”

“Nothing,” you sob. “I’m just… I didn’t know, and… This is a lot.”

You’re overflowing with emotions. From all the experiences you’ve had tonight to this very moment, everything has been wonderful and magical and there’s nothing quite like this feeling. But you’re also so embarrassed because he definitely brought out much bigger guns than you did.

Sniffling into his jacket, you whisper, “Thank you… You got me something timeless. This is so much cooler than my gift.”

“No! Yours is great, are you kidding me?”

“It’s a jersey… That’s much less cool.”

“Mm... You also called me yours.” When you freeze completely, Yoongi's shoulders bob with his pride. “Gotta say, that was the highlight of the night."

“Oh, shut up!" When you groan into his clothes, you feel him laughing through his chest. And it's one of your favorite feelings in the world.

Shoulders slumped, you heavily yearn,

“I want it all out now. Everything.” You squeeze him closer. Closer, closer, closer. “I want everyone to know it was from you.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, though you do feel his heart beat a little faster. When he finally answers, you close your eyes. “I know I said this last time, but.. Next year. For sure.”

“Can we decorate, too?”

Yoongi looks into your starry eyes. “You wanna?” When your nod is quick, he laughs. “Guess I don’t have a real choice then, huh?”

“Nu uh.” You squeal as he hauls you into a full kiss, squeezing you in his arms and more tears out of your eyes. “Wait!”

When he tilts his head, you grin at his adorable quirk. “Let’s do it anyway.”

“Huh?”

Holding up the bag, you cheekily suggest, “Everything you said. Let’s do it.” Biting your lip and feeling the chill on your ears, you finish, “There’s a new place I wanna try with you anyways.”

Yoongi just stares, smile unsure but huffing amusement from his nose. “You sure?”

“Duh! And I’ll act even more surprised, just for you.”

Your giggling is purely born from excitement. Because you can’t wait to take him somewhere you know he’ll enjoy, too. And you get to see the studio? It’s gonna be a fantastic—

You’re brought into a tight hug before your thoughts finish. The bag between you crumples a tad, but you’re more focused on the way your head is moved for a soul-tying kiss.

Warmth and gold and sparkles burst from your chest as you’re completely taken by Yoongi’s lips, and you start to feel your house inside change. It’s festive. It’s decorated. It’s made just for you and him.

You've never been one for this season. But getting to spend it with Yoongi two years in a row? It's becoming one of your favorite times of the year.

“I just…” he murmurs to your features before gripping you close. “Thanks, babe.”

“Thank you,” you whisper into his handsome features. “Once you give it to me for real, I’m gonna wear it everywhere.”

“Please do. Get my money’s worth.”

When you both laugh, your affection leaves in puffs of white. And you give him a more tender kiss than the first.

You feel so at home it hurts. But it hurts because your heart is so full you can’t fit it all. All the love for everyone that fills that hole in your life that you and your brother have had for years.

You’re gonna tell him one day. And it’s gonna rip you apart.

But you hope everything will be okay. This time next year, all of you will be okay. More than okay.

When you lean in close, you whisper something you’ve never really said to anyone. But you’re gonna try to start, even if you aren’t quite familiar with it yet. It’s a good year to start, start, start.

“Happy holidays, Yoongi.”

His lips spread slow before giving one more kiss to your chilly nose. And every anxious feeling floats away in the frosty breeze.

“Happy holidays, doll.”

fin. :)

so... how did it go! | join the server! | join the taglist!

a/n: happy holidays, merry christmas, happy new year to everyone that celebrates! just wanted to get this one out for the ones needing a little bit of cheer around this time. we learn quite a bit about some of the crew's backstories and where they work now, huh. is this a pocket universe, too? who really knows! but it all flew out of my fingers as soon as we got the suggestion, so thank you again to that anon message! a/n 2: thank you to everyone that's stuck with me and 3tan this year. it's been a rough one, but i also wanted to post this one to let you all know i'm still here. 3tan will forever stay with me, and i have not ever forgotten it. not one day goes by where i don't think about it, or y'all, or them. trust me. also, stay on the lookout for some physical copy interest checks! we are getting closer and closer to 3tan copies being A Real Thing! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

#hehehehe surprise and happy holidays!#bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #3tanholiday #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #ryenwrites #*ryenfictalk #*latest #bts imagines #bts reactions

600 notes · View notes

nikki0606 · 4 months ago

Text

my man | aizawa shouta X reader

[oneshot; (part 1) . (part 2 will be out soon)]

It's bittersweet walking through the gates of the school building you would run around in with your friends almost a decade ago now.

Not a thing has changed, you can still imagine yourself chasing Shirakumo to get back your lunch while the other girls leave you behind not wanting to deal with what comes next.

This 'next' is Yamada's loud calls. Obviously, the whole of the school would know who he is looking for during the breaks. His voice made it from one end of the school to the other and that, when U.A. covers a massive swathe of land.

One of the only unfamiliar places of the school is where you're headed now– the teachers' lounge.

It's going to go well.. relax.

You're nervous, not because you've now chosen to teach in the very school you yourself became a hero but because you will finally be in front of the faces you haven't seen in ages having needed to move abroad immediately after school for your mother's cancer treatment.

The door opens before you can hold the knob revealing the same principal from years ago, you wonder if he ever ages at all.

"Just in time, (L/n)-san. I just briefed the other teachers about you." his lips curve to the same smile you've known forever and instantly, one rises up your face, he continues, "How have you been?"

"I've been doing well." you smile and enter as he open the door thereby coming into sight of all the people sitting in the room.

"That's brilliant to hear." Nezu lifts his paw, but before he can say anything else, a way-too-loud call of "(Name)-chan! You're the new teacher?" cuts in.

Nezu doesn't hold you both back from having your moment. Instantly, Yamada hurries in for a hug, "You're back– wait, I should be mad at you for not keeping in touch!"

Midnight is next, she calls you her favourite Kohai from school times and brags to everyone about the fun you all would have fun after basically lifting you and swinging you around in the hug.

The others teachers chuckle and them and tell you they haven't been their chaotic selves in some time before this.

It is during the talk with the new people around that you notice Aizawa Shouta leaned against the wall in the corner of the room, his face turned to the ground in front and a conflicted look adorning it.

Your lips twitch– he hasn't even come to greet you despite you having returned after almost a decade.

Something tells you you shouldn't be surprised, however. He has always been his 'stay out of attention' self. Maybe he didn't want to draw too much of attention to the fact that he knows you too?

But he is a teacher here so he shouldn't be complaining about attention in the first place.

Oh, whatever reason it is.

You make your way to him while the fuzziness from years ago enters your chest again. It's alright– you know you feel exactly the same way for him as you did years ago.

Or maybe whatever this is more intense. You've longed for him for almost a decade now after all.

"Shouta-kun." his name sounds melodic as it leaves your lips, "H-How are you doing?" there is a small pause, "I mean.. y-you remember me, right?"

The indifferent, unfamiliar look in his eyes makes your throat fill up with an acidic doubt. You swallow hard.

"I don't have the memory of a goldfish, (Name)-chan." he sigh and turns his head to the side, "Of course I remember you. You were way to noisy to forget back then."

"I can't tell whether that's a compliment or an insult." the laugh that escapes your lips is more of relief than amusement.

He hums, then steps away from you, turning to say, "Go figure out." before he walks off.

You halt, blinking a few times at his figure leaving the room.

"It's time for class." Yamada's arm falls on your shoulder, "It's not that he's running from you or something, okay?"

You let out a snort, "As if I'd assume that." but you partially have.

"Lie to someone else." he shakes his head, then holds his hands in front of his face, "Shouta-kun's mind is tunnel visioned to his students like this during work hours here. All of ours are– minus Nemuri-chan because she's.. well forget it, you'll get to know –but, point is, you'll have to work hard here, (Name)-chan."

"Oh, hit me with anything, Hizashi-kun." your lips tug upwards.

He frowns, "But that day I hit you with the iron rod, you cried."

_______________________________________________

"What does go figure out even mean?" your head rests against the glass window. Classes ended half an hour ago and you're proud to say you did pretty well for a first time.

"It means go figure out." Yamada gives you company to act like an idiot in front of the departing students, "What do you think it is, a compliment or an insult?"

"Totally an insult." you deadpan at him.

"At least your retardation hasn't gotten worse over the years." Aizawa's voice walks past the both of you and you and Yamada immediately jolt straight and turn to see him walk away with test papers.

"A test on the first day of school after summer break?" you shiver, "Shouta-kun's the devil to his students."

"Oh," Yamada shakes his head pitifully, "he is. Before the last year, he always told the whole class they've failed and are expelled from the school just to give them a near death experience."

"That idiot.. " your gaze lingers on his figure walking further away in the corridor. The boy you knew was just nineteen when you last saw him.

He's a man now.

They both really did age well.

Your mind prefers to place Aizawa on the top of this 'aging well' hierarchy until Midnight comes into your mind and you have to readjust with a chuckle.

To celebrate your return, Yamada drags you all into a restaurant he owns for dinner later that evening.

Partially, you hope he would have given you time to get dressed pretty for a certain pair of tired black eyes but the other part argues you've lose your head in stress of what to wear and what to not if that happened.

Conversations drag on at the table while plates empty into all of your stomachs. Being heroes means a massive diet after all.

"And then there was this weird self-obsessed-ish kid." you did try to eat decently in front of the others but they remembered how rabid you are so it was no good.

"Who– wait, I know. It's Monomoa." Yamada laughs, "No one else in 2B fits under that terminology."

"He's not self obsessed, come on." Aizawa sighs and shakes his head, "Are you seriously considering teaching at U.A. a joke?"

"I mean.. " you shrug, "they took you in so it would be pretty lousy here, wouldn't it?"

Yamada and Kayama laugh.

"Oh?" Aizawa's eyebrows raise, "Says the girl who lost a Sports Festival match because a bug got into her costume."

"For your information, it was a worm." you gag at the memory, "And it reminded me of you and your yellow sleeping bags, Shouta-kun. Now tell me then, do you want something that reminds me of you to be wiggling around my boobs?"

Yamada snorts out a glass of water to the side. Aizawa scoffs though he clearly is surprised to see you're just as shameless as you were back then.

"When will you ever grow up?" he rolls his eyes.

"When you get your hair cut short." you place the glass on the table with full confidence, ignoring the way Yamada signals you to change your statement from the side.

"Tomorrow then." Aizawa nods, his lips pulling into his signature shit-eating grin, "If you don't grow up tomorrow, you're responsible for cleaning up all toilets in the staff room."

You realize he would definitely have his hair chopped if it means rubbing this into your face, "Don't you dare touch your hair, Shouta-kun." you life your knife up at him, "Those luscious locks must stay."

While Aizawa facepalms, Kayama laughs out loud in laughter. You tell her she's laughing at anything and she replies telling you you're hilarious.

"And," you turn back to Aizawa, "if that's your way of inviting me to your bathroom, Shouta-kun, I accept the offer." the way he rolls his eyes is enough to make you stop using the playfully seductive tone.

Yamada rubs his cheeks, "Man, living with Shouta-kun's going to give me depression. I haven't laughed much yet but my cheeks already hurt. I'm so glad you're back, (Name)-chan."

"Me too." your expressions melt like butter, you flash them all a beautifully genuine smile, voice getting the slightest bit heavy, "I missed you all so much."

"If you cry, I'll puke." Aizawa comments.

"If I puke, I'll make you lick it all off." you comment back, expressions stoic and staring into space.

Aizawa makes a disgusted face. Kayama has almost actually puked out something at the thought. This sort of talk while eating effects Yamada as little as it does you.

"You took general studies too?" Aizawa sighs and decides to change the topic before you say something more gross.

"Yep."

"Anyone noticeable?"

"If you mean that purple turnip head boy with eyes as head as yours, yes. If you mean anything other than the fact that he's probably an insomniac, no." you shrug and take a bite of your food.

"That's Shouta-kun's son." Yamada snidely mentions. You choke and cough out the contents of your mouth.

"Stop it, Hizashi-kun." Aizawa tiredly leans in his chair.

"You know I won't, don't you?" he grins, "That's the kid Aizawa gives personal lessons too because the kid's quirk is brain related and– oi, he's not actually Shouta-kun's son."

"Oh?" you'd been moments away from hyperventilating and talk airily, "O-Of course.. I-I mean why would he be.. Shouta-kun's too young to have a kid that old."

"Shouta-kun wouldn't have a kid at all because he would sleep through the wedding." Kayama repeats an OG joke from the childhood and you and Yamada laugh nostalgically.

Aizawa's head lolls back tiredly, "So this is a one-sided bullying session against me?"

"Aw, don't be sad about it, Shouta-kun." you coo, "They say only the prettiest people get bitched about. I'm sure you wouldn't mind."

He turns to you, "What stupid romance novel did you read this in now?"

You blink, "What do you mean romance novel?"

"Considering your life outside fantasy is non existent." he tilts his head, "What was that fiction you would read back in the day? You remember it, Hizashi-kun?"

"Ah.. " his eyebrows raise as your ears glow red, "I'd totally forgotten.. don't remember what it was about, though."

Aizawa's grin returns, "A weird hero with silky black hair saves a girl from death and they fall in– " you cut him off before he can say something more to embarrass you.

Just as fucking oblivious about it now too, aren't you, Shouta-kun.

"You paid a lot of attention to me back then, eh, Shouta-kun." this gives you the responsive pause you need, "You even remember the details of the story. Oh my, you weren't jealous, were you?"

Take that, bitch.

The voice in your head says it in too adoring a way for you to be able to muster any sassy expressions. A soft look adorns your face instead.

Aizawa's expressions have dropped to zero. His ears well hidden under his own hair are radiating heat now, it's obvious by the unusual tint against his pale skin.

"Exposed." Yamada snickered, "Poor boy Shouta."

"Shut up, will you?" the man frowns and drops himself against the chair once more, "Fucking noisy, both of you."

"Oh my," your hand comes to your mouth, "did I just hear sensei swear? How dirty."

"I will kill you." he threatens, head turning away.

"Oh," you say in a dramatized tone, "don't you already?"

Aizawa huffs, his scarves covering his cheeks to hide the tint of pink. Kayama realises she wants to see the same colour on your face.

"First day back and she's already flirting with Shouta-kun." her snicker punches your guts, "How obvious you make your crush on him, (Name)-chan."

The effect is immediate, hot red pumps into your face. You pass her a betrayed look but she and Yamada are too busy grinning at each other to care.

Aizawa doesn't interfere or even choose to take a shot against you at this. He pretends to not have heard this at all.

Your lips curve low, it bothers you that he would not react in any way on hearing something like this.

Even if he is not interested in you, you still do wish to have some or the other sort of response from him whenever you gather the courage to confess to him but this firsthand scenario doesn't bring in much.

The cold look from the teacher's lounge appears in your mind momentarily.

You find the need to take a bathroom break.

_______________________________________________

It's been some time since you've been teaching at U.A., though it was mostly a behind-the-curtain work schedule.

Nezu has decided to make you an official homeroom teacher the next year which means you get teacher training.

"What are we doing?" you're not very sure about what Yamada is leading you into. Principal Nexu did say there is going to be a new task for you today and that your loud friend would take you to it but it definitely has nothing to do in front of Aizawa's classroom, right?

Yamada barges in, "Yeeaah!" he's just as full of energy as ever, "Good morning my lovely little listeners!"

There is a decently energetic response.

While Aizawa tells him to get out, Yamada makes an annoucement, "I'm going to introduce a new teacher to you all today! She's your sensei's very special friend."

You're not the only one who has facepalmed. Aizawa tiredly begs you to take him away with the look on his face.

The students beat you teachers to making a move, though.

"Are we talking about the new teacher you were standing beside with your head against the window with yesterday?" a girl asks.

"Bingo!" Yamada's hands point to her, "This new teacher is," you're dragged inside with one hand, "(L/n) (Name) sensei! The one person in the world who knows how to bully your sensei!"

Aizawa claps sarcastically, "Wow, what an enlightening introduction."

"You really could have done better, Hizashi-kun." you feel embarrassed to be pulled in front of everyone like this, "That's just.. "

"Whatever it is, out, both of you. Now." Aizawa orders.

You hold back from making a 'hot sensei giving orders' joke about him in front of the kids and choose to focus a little longer on the way his hair hangs around his face.

"Oi, her training session briefing is under your surveillance." Yamada tells him and Aizawa mutters something about wanting to be dead, "Take care of the both of them, you all!" he turns to the students.

They don't immediately understand.

"They could either A, fight and kill each other or B, make out and be kicked out from the– " you grab his arm and throw him out, then instantly turn to the class with a strict look.

"Don't you all dare get any funny ideas."

They all clearly push the gossip for later when they reply with a "yes ma'am".

Aizawa behind you looks like he's about to bang his head to the wall. Clearly, he isn't very eager to see his students get the wrong idea and thereby become a topic of gossip.

You honestly wouldn't step in that pit either.

"I'll only be joining you all for training session today." you have your strict face on, "If you think your sensei is bad, I'm a nightmare." but it just so happens that Aizawa snorts at that spoiling the seriousness behind your words.

When you turn to him, you find him trying to make a straight face through amusement. That, but the students can see because he's turned away from them and is walking towards you.

"Grab your suits and hurry down to training." he tells them, "And you, nightmarish teacher, come behind me."

Your jaw drops, "Are you ridiculing me, Shouta-kun?" of course the kids wouldn't mind some drama from you too, right?

Well Shouta's fault, not mine.

"Yes. I'm surprised your pea sized brain can tell." he walks out of the class leaving you behind but not any chances for you to cause the drama until the students turn to you.

"Good luck, new sensei." one of them says, "Go turn the look in your eyes to words and he'll say yes for sure.. maybe.. "

"Hey, what the hell?" you snap your head towards this blond boy with the black lighting bolt in his hair, "Behave." but he looks too conflicted to pay attention.

"Actually, he's definitely going to reject you." he speaks up a moment later, "B-But that's because Aizawa sensei has zero romance drive, not because you're not cool or something. You're super cute— ah, nevermind."

His face buries in his hands.

You don't understand whether to coo at the kid or just laugh out loud. Aizawa peeks in from the side of the door a moment later and you decide to just escape the odd situation.

Some strict nightmarish teacher you are.

_______________________________________________

"Oh, you fucking monster." your body is sore, "This was supposed to be training for the kids, not me."

"Right?" Aizawa lazily examines the papers, "It's such a shame you're so out of shape. How good you were back when we were kids."

"Says the guy who always defeated me in the sports festivals." you frown.

"You never even tried to fight." he hums, eyes focused on the training report sheets he made the students write, "Never understood that. I do remember how mercilessly you threw Hizashi out of boundaries."

"Couldn't hurt your pretty face, you know." you shrug, heat rising to your cheeks but you play it cool, "Plus Hizashi was just annoying during sports festivals."

"His quirk is being loud, (Name)-chan." Aizawa's eyes roll over to your for a moment. You find yourself admiring how well he has matured once again, "But that being put aside, how come you're this out of shape?"

I'm not out of shape, Shouta-kun..

"I was distracted by how handsome of a man you've become." you word it in a ridiculing tone but there isn't an inch of your statement that isn't true, "Oh, the jawline, the super pull-able hair and the muscles."

Aizawa rolls his eyes.

"And the eye rolls." this comes out a lot softer and warmer. You've missed his eye rolls for so long now.

"Uh-huh?" Aizawa takes half his pile of papers and gives them to you to check promising lunch if you help him with it, "What, has being single for so long started getting to you?"

An amused giggle leaves your lips, you cuddle into the couch ignoring the papers completely, "People think you're such a nice, serious guy, Shouta-kun. Me and Hizashi know."

"Know what?" his eyes linger at the papers for a little, then on a cut on your ankle.

"That's you're such a dirty little boy." you lean towards him, "Being single has gotten to me? Oh no, babyboy, you've gotten to me."

He makes a face, you immediately dramatize gag at your words to not make him doubt your words to be true.

"You're disgusting." he tells you.

"You're disgusting too. What was the need to toss me around like that in front of the students?" you frown, "I've got cuts and bruises all up my legs."

His eyes rest on the little cut on your ankle again, "Why didn't you go see recovery girl?"

"Recovery grandma?" your eyebrow raises, "She's still here?"

"Oh she is." he drops his pen and leans back into the couch too. Aizawa is tired, he needs his coffee. It's already the time of the day when Hizashi comes in with a cup of coffee for him, Aizawa doesn't understand why he's late today.

"There isn't much that has changed." you hum, head turned up towards him while leaning against the couch, "It's just you and Hizashi."

"We've changed?" his head rolls to you.

"Physically." you say, "Plus Hizashi-kun said he's seeing someone so that has changed.. are you?"

"Am I seeing someone?" Aizawa's eyes blink lazily, irises focused into yours, "The only thing I'm seeing is papers." he pulls his boots off, "So many of them."

"Do you not take breaks?" your eyes focus on the bags under his, finger going up immediately to touch the skin, "I'm worried you'll get too stressed like this and— " you're cut off by him.

"What are you doing?"

You blink, "What?"

"What are you doing? Your hand is on my face, (Name)-chan." there's a pause as he pulls his head away, "That's.. weird."

Your lips tighten, "R-Right.. sorry."

"It's fine.. " tension fills into the air, "Just.. don't do it again."

"Sure.. " your head droops along with your expressions. It's odd hearing this— it could still be him messing around with you but he'd give you an indication then.

You feel dejected, as though he's throwing you off before you even tell him how much you'd wish to drown into him.

Should I.. ?

But how can you indirectly relay your feelings to him just to make sure he doesn't actually with to reject you if you ever do.

It may just be under the tag of friendship, but there is still warmth in Aizawa's eyes when he looks at you. You know to not classify this as just friendship.

"Ah.. " your hands cover your face, "Life is moving forward, no?"

"Obviously." his head rests back.

"I knew you as a young boy, Shouta-kun. You were nineteen when I had to leave." a smile slips up your face like butter, your tone is adoring, "You've become a man now."

"What else do you expect me to become?" he shifts to the side to get better view of you.

You roll your eyes, "You probably feel what I'm talking about too, right? I was just a little girl when you last saw me."

"It just so happens that you've not grown at all." he shrugs, "Not by brains, not by height," his eyes lower from your face for a fraction of a second but Aizawa happens to have the best control over himself, he doesn't let his expressions show this at all, "so, no. I can't tell."

You, on the other hand, are shameless. Mostly.

"If what you want to say is that my boobs and hips have grown, don't be shy, Shouta-kun." you wave your hand at him, "It's not like I don't notice when you stare."

He makes an odd expression again, then turns away.

"That's weird, (Name)-chan. It's not right, don't say stuff like that."

You blink, "Not right?"

He shifts uncomfortably, gaze flickering in the air before he gets up and walks away muttering something about you stepping over boundaries.

You frown, instantly getting up and following after him.

"What's weird, Shouta-kun? What boundaries am I stepping? Let me know at least."

He doesn't stop, neither does he reply. When you don't stop following him, Aizawa just walks into the men's bathroom.

"Bitch." you cuss under your breath, eyes getting glassier for some reason. It's odd to see such behaviour from his side.

It's already been some time since the both of you have been spending breaks together, it's a coincidentally convenient schedule.

Every single time, however, there is either one or another moment where something odd crosses over Aizawa and he wouldn't talk to you anymore.

You hate it when he does this.

You hate him not talking to you and treating you like you're just any friend.

"Oh, (L/n)-san?" Toshinori Yagi steps out of the bathroom, "How come you're standing in front of the men's bathroom?" he chuckles, "Am I getting fangirling for going to the bathroom this time?"

"O-Oh.. nevermind." you're not in right headspace to pay heed to what he has just said, "Wait.. actually, please just drag Shouta-san out, sir."

He blinks, "What?"

There's only one way to end the whirlpool of anxiety in your guts.

"Just.. please drag him out of the bathroom. He's only waiting for me to leave, I'm sure."

All Might blinks but doesn't say anything as he turns and reenters the space restricted from you.

Luckily, he manages to succeed. A tired looking Aizawa steps out and sighs, "What?"

Your eyebrows twitch in annoyance, "What do you mean what, Shouta-kun? You— come with me." you grab his arm and drag him away into the pantry of the teachers' lounge.

"What do you want, (Name)-chan?" he wouldn't look at you now.

"I want to tell you you're a bitch." you huff, "A-And.. " your lips press tight, "I.. w-want to tell you.. "

"Hurry up, I have papers to check." he's clearly looking for excuses to avoid you but you don't intend to let him get his way.

"Shouta-kun.. I.. " it's so much harder than you thought it would be, you feel like crying.

Oh fuck, just let it out.

"I just.. I've always.. " a shaky breath leaves your lips, eyes closing to avoid your eyes from popping out with how fast your heart beats, "I love you."

Absolute silence follows.

When you can't take it anymore, you shoot your eyes open only to find a look of conflict and frustration on Aizawa's face. It's spontaneous– something stops in your chest and a loud ringing fills your ears.

"You.. shouldn't have said that." Aizawa's words are the only that make way to your ears though the buzz, "That's not good. It's– we're not doing this, (Name)-chan. You.. shouldn't be doing this."

Your lips shut tight, throat too dried up to speak all of a sudden.

Aizawa inhales, his face turning away and voice low and heavy, "I don't feel the same, (Name)-chan. It's concerning you feel this way.. it's hilarious of an idea in the first place."

His words act as daggers stabbing your heart.

"And.. I don't think.. I mean, of course you know I wouldn't fall for a person like you even in my nightmares." a hollow, dry chuckle escapes his lips before his head drops to the floor with his lips pressed in a thin line.

The worse they can say is no?

A voice inside you laughs at your stupid self.

" ..Right.. " your voice barely makes it out. The tear rolling down your cheek beats it, " ..Uhm.. I-I'm just gonna go.. " your feet drag you away silently.

It's hard to walk through the teachers' lounge without breathing at all. The moment you've stepped out into the empty hallways, a deep, broken exhale brings down streams of tears.

Your legs beg to give out, chest throbbing painfully making ripples of stress travel throughout your body.

Somewhere to your side, Yamada's voice calls out to you. The next moment you know, you're running out of the school building towards the teachers' dorms.

"How long is he going to take today?" Shinsou's feet tap against the ground, "Sensei's here around this timegenerally."

Yamada hums, his gaze focused on the ground, "You know.. I think there might be some connection to (Name)-chan and Shouta-kun's spoilt mood recently."

Shinsou blinks, "I'm not going to act like you saying that should mean anything other than them being on bad romantic terms considering there is no other sensible interpretation to your words."

The hero nods, "Yup."

"What?"

"A few days ago, I saw her running away after crying outside the teachers' lounge. I chased after her and talked but she didn't say much. Shouta-kun was gloomy that day."

"What did he say?" Shinsou throws his mask to the side and hurries to sit in front of Yamada, "You did try to talk to him, right?"

Yamada shrugs, "He wouldn't talk. Quietly walked away. He hasn't been talking much to anyone since then."

"He wouldn't even say much in class." Shinsou's head falls to his lap, "What do you think could have happened?"

Yamada turns to the side, "I know them enough to say this, I'm sure either one confessed or proposed and the other said no."

"But Aizawa sensei– (L/n)-sensei was crying, you say?"

"Yeah." the man sighs, "Two of my best friends getting off with each other. What am I supposed to do?" the both of them share looks for a moment.

Shinsou nods, catching the signal Yamada has been trying to give him all this while, "You're right, what are you supposed to do?"

It takes a couple of days to set everything up but he manages to "coincidentally" make Aizawa and you end up together for dinner with Yamada.

Neither of the two of you are happy with this, it doesn't take a genius to figure that out.

"Sit, you both." Yamada knows you both are hiding whatever happened from him so wouldn't refuse now that you both are already only so he wouldn't know.

"So you planned dinner?" your voice lacks any emotion at all, it is hollow and low, and is addressed only to Yamada as if sarcastically commenting on his decision.

"I did." he smiles, "Hope the both of you don't mind. I realised we need to have a talk over something."

Neither you nor Aizawa look up. Over a week of avoiding him does nothing at all to ease the pain, and you don't wish to increase the weight in your chest by catching sight of his unaffected expressions.

Yamada doesn't speak up for some time, he allows the tension in the air settle to the ground until there is more of pain, guilt and longing at the table than suffocation.

"We met first in the sports festival of the first year." he begins once the waitress has left. He's hesitant to bring this up but there's no other way, "Shirakumo-kun was against (Name)-chan. She lost but was introduced into class A and shifted from class B."

"Yeah.. w-we know the story.. " you look to the side, eyes glassy and fingers fiddling with each other.

Clearly, you're not in the mood to get nostalgic.

"It was funny to see you fall for Shouta-kun while Shirakumo-kun flirted with you all day long." Yamada lets out a chuckle as Aizawa's head snaps up at you.

You, on the other hand, widen your eyes at him in shock– you'd never expected him to bring this topic up. It feels like betrayal.

Yamada inhales, then exhales deep, "Shirakumo-kun had a crush on you, you know."

"What?"

"Yeah.. " he gives you a small smile, "He did, but he noticed your feelings for Shouta-kun and then his behaviour changed. You remember when– "

___________ May, Second year at U.A. High ___________

"Hey Shouta," Shirakumo says, "It's just ice cream. Stop licking it as if it's Yamada's popsickle."

You begin giggling, drawing attention to yourself. Aizawa feels his lips twitch into a small smile, he loves it when you laugh though this isn't something he wishes you find amusing.

He composes himself immediately and turns to Shirakumo with a frown, "Don't open your dirty mouth like that in front of a girl at least. Have some shame, Shiro." but he is ignored.

"(Name)! (Name)!" Shirakumo is busy coming up with more nonsense, "Okay, I got an idea." the rest of you turn to him, while still licking all your ice creams.

"How about you give us some advice?"

"What sort of advice?" you ask and he smirks.

"We're all poor little dreaming boys who all definitely have some or the other crush on some or the other cute friends of ours, don't we, Shouta-kun?" the boy in questions freezes, "Why don't you rate us.. or give us an overview from a girls' angle? If we're in luck, it might help some oblivious idiot see through".

"That's random." you hum, "But," there is a pause, "I'll say.. Hizashi-kun is bright, awlways optimistic and loud one. You're gonna be probably.. well, charismatic, energetic and you know what, there's some girls in our class who call you husband material."

"They do?" Shirakumo is pleased, "Did you hear that, guys?"

"Go on, bitch some more about your friends, (Name)-chan." Aizawa rolls his eyes at Shirakumo's smug expression, "You're snitching on them."

"Sometimes you should take that stick up your ass out and try some fingers." you close your eyes and give Aizawa a firm nod. Shirakumo and Yamada burst out laughing.

"What about Shouta-kun, though?" Shirakumo elbows the boy and turns back to you when his laughs dies down to chuckles.

You hum, "To me, he's like.. the definition of manliness. If testosterone is something, it's him. You know what, it's not my choice at all– Shouta-kun in general looks like a sexy tsundere guy who the girl would call daddy or something, you get what I mean?"

"Boy boy, someone's all red." Shirakumo laughs at Aizawa who just grunts and looks away. You don't have the confidence to look towards his face after all you've said either.

"He'll get lots of options for wives.. only if he didn't doze of mid-wedding." you crack the OG joke and everyone other that Aizawa snorts.

"Ay, don't be too rough with him (Name)-chan." Shirakumo exaggerates scolding you, "Our sweet sugar daddy is blushing. He might just burst if you keep this up."

Aizawa turns to him instantly and mutters a "what the fuck?" under his breath.

But Shirakumo isn't the only cheeky bitch in the group.

"Come on, sweet daddy.. " you exaggerate a coo, "Don't get mad. I'm scared you'll be too rough." and as you do, you realise Shirakumo isn't lying when he says Aizawa might burst.

His ears are steaming, cheeks blood red already. You doubt he'd be able to take another tease.

"Little kitten's blushing." Shirakumo laughs, "If I were gay, I'd be totally into him. It's too sad I'm not a single girl among us four who can crush on him."

Shirakumo gets a glare from you, you're thankful Aizawa hasn't heard him well.

___________ - ___________

"Why would you suddenly bring that up today?" Aizawa understand your behaviour from back then now only now that he has been confessed to, "Things of the past should stay in the past."

"Misunderstandings of the past should stay in the past too." Yamada looks up, "Shirakumo realised (Name)-chan's interest in you too early on. He liked it, actually. He always thought you were perfect for her and the other way around."

Aizawa's expressions drop to zero at the revelation.

"Actually.. " Yamada clears his throat, "He'd always known you push your feelings for (Name)-chan down because of his crush on her."

Your head snaps up at what you've heard.

..Shouta-kun had feelings for me back then.. ?

"He'd been trying to set the both of you up for over an year already before he.. died." silence spreads at the table, "You don't need to reject your feelings for (Name)-chan anymore, Shouta-kun."

Aizawa stares hard at the table, you look between him and Yamada. Nothing seems to set properly in your brain, you don't know what's going on.

"You don't need to reject her in loyalty to our dead friend. He didn't die loving her, he died hoping the both of you would give each other a chance.. "

Aizawa doesn't know what to say, his lips part to speak but no voice leaves.

"She's not his, dude. Don't label her like that.. just.. free yourself from this burden. Shirakumo-kun didn't die loving her."

Silence prevails at the table for far too long. Yamada looks uncomfortable with this silence. He keeps on looking between your and Aizawa's fallen faces.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Aizawa's voice is so low it barely feels the words have left his mouth.

Yamada sighs, "I thought you knew.. " he waits for a little more time before getting up with an "enjoy dinner, you two. Talk it out." and leaves.

Neither you not Aizawa says anything for even longer– you're losing your patience now. Tears build up in your eyes.

You do understand that he needs time to digest the revelation as much as you do but the past week of heartache has barely left anything for you to stay silent with.

The only desire you have is to know how he feels about you now. That, but you don't know how you'll ever talk to him again after all he has said.

Aizawa looks up a moment later, his eyes unusually and surprisingly glassy, "I'm sorry.. " he begins, " ..for everything."

And though you did not think this could ease any of your pain, you find yourself crying into your hands a moment later. This time, he's there to calm you.

441 notes · View notes

jo-speaks · 5 months ago

Text

good graces ft. quinn hughes

in which…

quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.

warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.

track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!

When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel

Drawin' hearts 'round our names

And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles

“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.

You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?

He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”

“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”

Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up.

After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.

He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”

You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”

Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”

“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.

Don't mistake my nice for naive

“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.

You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”

He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”

“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.

“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.

You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved.

You weren’t stupid.

I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys

You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

Like, ooh

Baby, you say you really like it being mine?

So let me give you some advice

After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.

“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation.

Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”

You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”

He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”

Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”

You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”

Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”

“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.

As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.

You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.

Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”

You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.

“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”

“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.

Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”

He nodded.

“Then don’t lie to me.”

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

That was cool

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

Yeah

“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago.

“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.

Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.”

Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed.

He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened.

As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone.

Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation.

Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really.

You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”

His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight.

“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about.

By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”

I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely

Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling.

“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.

He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.

This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.

“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.

You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”

He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”

Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on

With your favorite athlete

Shoot his shot every night

Want you every second, don't need other guys

You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted.

Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV.

One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through.

‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’

“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.

He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”

“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.

Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”

You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.

“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.

His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”

Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.”

Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side.

You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”

You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips.

“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”

You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye

As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.

He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”

You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.”

Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”

You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.

Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.

“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.

You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?”

He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”

“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.

But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”

Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.

“And what?” You pressed.

“She wants to try again.”

You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”

He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.

You nodded your head, “Okay.”

“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.

Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.

“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

Oh, no

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

No, I won't

I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't

(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2

Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4.

The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking.

You didn’t need him.

Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone.

The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home.

As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.

Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #vancouver canucks #qh43 #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x y/n

456 notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 4 months ago

Text

Kinktober day 5

Kurt Wagner + Uniform Kink

Priest Kurt :3 Also talks of religious trauma.I know religious imagery hates to see me comin. Readers a visible mutant, inspired somewhat by Killer croc. Readers 8ft tall.

I know very little about catholic priests, the area I grew up was Lutheran. This also takes place at some point on Krakoa. This ended up being more story driven honestly, but I had fun writing it anyways. Not proofread, because I cant be bothered.

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

You had a strained relationship with religion, even if your entire family had been true to the faith. You may have been too, years ago, before your mutation manifested. Back when you had been nothing but their darling son, their gift from whatever god they worshipped, after so many years of trying. The gift just seemed giving, as your parents had more kids after you, giving you siblings.

You didn’t have many good memories with them. You got to hold the first two that were born, even play with them, but then your mutation started. It started out as patches of dry skin, something that could be treated with thick ointments and long baths. They’d thought it was a skin disease back then, and it had been winter, so it was all blamed on the dry weather.

It was harder to deny when the scales started appearing, and when you woke up to your gums bleeding from your new teeth growing in. your sobbing had awoken your mother, who had screamed bloody murder when she saw you. There weren’t many memories of that night, or the next couple of years at that. The human mind worked in strange ways, and yours decided to supress that part of your childhood.

All you remembered were flashes of coldness, of being locked away in what could only have been the basement. Of the churches priests and whoever else they thought might “cure” you of your “disease”. You remembered your father yelling about what he must have done wrong to gain a demon like you as his child. You remembered the quiet whispers in the kitchen at night, that you only were able to hear because of your enchanted senses.

You remember how your mother whispered to your aunt, that this was her fault. That you were the result of an affair, so this had to be God punishing her for her sins. You heard how more siblings were born, how they were told to stay away from the basement no matter what, and punished hard if they even went near it. There wasn’t much entertainment down there, your so-called parents only leaving you with religious texts and whatever else they thought might “save” you.

There was no want inside you to get out, even after what must have been years. Your mutation meant you barely needed to eat, to drink, or sleep. Most of your time was simply spent, listening to your family. Because of that, you learned the same things your siblings did because they needed help with homework, or you got to keep up with the news on the radio. You had accepted it.

It was only when one of your youngest siblings discovered you that it all crumbled. She was young, as small as you had been the day your dry skin started appearing. You knew her name, having heard your mother sing her praises because she had always wanted a daughter. And she wasn’t afraid of you. She spoke to you, sitting with her knees tucked under her chin, telling you about mass, about how God would love you anyways, even if you looked different, because he loved everyone.

But the good never lasts, and she was discovered by your not so shared father, and she was punished. Her screaming awoke something deep and feral inside you, a hatred you had never tapped into. Something that had you tearing your chains like they were made of sugar, your claws drawing deep gouges in the walls as you wrenched your way upstairs. The door split like paper under your giant clawed, scaley hand, the hand of a monster, a demon.

The noise you let out was like that of the demons of hell, something deep, snarling and terrifying. Your mother and fathers’ eyes widened in terror, your brothers, the two you got to hold, were terrified. The siblings that never knew you existed wet themselves or started crying in terror. And your sister. Your sweet. kind sister, was a curled-up bleeding ball on the floor, and yet she still smiled at you.

None of the family dared move as you picked her up, she was so small she fit in one of your giant clawed hands. You had never realized how big you were, but as you stared down at your parents with such hatred, it truly sank in. your father who had always seemed so big, as if he were God himself, trembled like a leaf because of you.

They didn’t stop you as you left, tearing the front door of its hinges with nothing but a small nudge, leaving it split in two in the front yard. It was night, and it was one of those white picket fence neighbourhoods, where you preached Gods love, but ignored how the neighbour beat their children bloody.

Having your sister die in your arms was what broke you, for a long time. You weren’t older than 20 at the time, you at least thought that was your age. And yet, you stood taller than any human man, broader and strong enough to tear buildings apart. And still you couldn’t save her. you wanted to rampage, to kill and destroy everyone and everything. But you knew your sister loved this place, even after they mistreated her so. So in the end you buried her somewhere nice, and left.

The brotherhood of mutants wasn’t a choice you thought much about taking. You were no hero, and by the time you learned about the x-men, there was already way too much blood on your hands and in your teeth. That was where you met Kurt, on the battlefield. At that point he was just an enemy, someone you could turn that deep burning rage against. Feed that blood thirsty demon in your chest, to make it quiet for a little while once more.

It took you years to learn more than that they were enemies, the x-men. Your pain must have been written on your face from the very start, even The Wolverine seemed to have a semblance of worry for you. But you didn’t care, you just needed to hurt somebody, and it was easy to run in the direction you were given and lose yourself to your demons.

There were times you would pray, times when you were alone and hurting more than normal. But it never felt like God answered. And why would he. You were a monster put on this earth to punish your mother for her sins, her very sins woven deep into your very being and fuelling you.

At some point you left the brotherhood. Even that wasn’t enough anymore to quiet your demons and pain. It had been years at that point, and Nightcrawler was still just an enemy who’d grown from a small annoying pipsqueak to a slightly bigger but even more annoying pipsqueak. That very furry blue elf had a knack for finding you, wherever you went.

Most of the time you assumed he wanted to fight, but Nightcrawler, Kurt, would just sit by you in his own contemplating silence. At times he talked, other times he was silent. Sometimes he sat close beside you, sometimes meters away. Him talking about his faith made your heart race, but knowing he too experienced pain because of his appearance helped, somewhat.

Time still passed, you still weren’t a good person. The x-men and mutant-kind settled down on Krakoa. You did not, at least not for a long time. You had settled down far away from everything, somewhere with a nice deep lake where you could sink to the bottom, and imagine you were in purgatory because you never thought you would go to heaven.

Of all people to drag you to Krakoa, you had never imagined it would be The Wolverine, Logan. He gave some big spiel about hating yourself ruining it all for you, trust him, he knew. At that point in your life, you didn’t care much, nothing mattered and everything was just a blur, the demon in your chest dormant and worthless.

Krakoa was nice, people even treated you kindly even after your time with the brotherhood. Your suffering must have been so obvious for them to just accept you with such open arms, thinking about it made you cringe. Kurt was still nice. He was older, had the starts of a moustache, and the garb of a priest.

Seeing the outfit made your pupils sharpen and your heart lurch, some deeply ingrained animal reaction. Hearing about the faith he ran, smoothed down some of your sharp scales, something that yes, had its roots in Catholicism, but was so much more accepting and kinder. The thought of being part of it made your mouth sour, but there was also no pressure from anywhere to join.

You and Kurt grew closer, over time. It was a slow and careful path, all your relationships on this island were. But Kurt was special, in the way he smiled, the way he smelled, the way you became so comfortable in his presence that he could sit on your shoulders. And the way you both grew so close, that it didn’t even fell like sin when he kissed you.

Kissing Kurt must have been what Adam and Eve felt when biting the apple, tempted by the snake to break the one rule they were given to follow. And yet, like Adam and Eve, you broke that rule anyways. Kurts’s fur wasn’t long, but it was soft to the touch, some areas longer than others and carrying a natural curl. The scent of sulphur and the incense he would use in his thurible, became what put the demon inside you to rest, for good.

And maybe Kurt was pavloving you a little. It wasn’t on purpose, you think. He would simply regularly wear his priest outfit, his alb, his chasuble, his stole and amice. And he would kiss you and taste like ambrosia, like something worth sinning for. Kurt would smell and taste so divine, and would touch you so lovingly. At times you were scared to touch, fearing you would hurt him too, but even then, Kurt taught you to trust yourself.

So, who could you truly blame for getting heated, whenever you got to watch Kurt dress himself. You didn’t have a tail like he did, but you did bury yourself in your giant shared bed and rumble deep in your chest like the reptile you shared features with. It seemed so sinful and sensual, even if it truly wasn’t his intention. To see how carefully Kurt draped fabric over his body, or how his tail would flick and make the light fabrics flutter. It made a whole never demon inside you yearn.

You didn’t want to dirty his outfit, shaming yourself for even thinking it. How sinful, how evil, how demonic. But it was yet another thing you sucked at hiding, to the point where the other x-men, your friends now, started making jokes that you churred whenever Kurt would flutter by in it.

You denied it, of course, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. And that didn’t mean Kurt hadn’t planned out how to give you what you both wanted. Which was how you found yourself laying back against your many pillows, Kurt in nothing but his alb and prayer beads in your lap, his three fingered hands against your chest.

It still felt so terrifying to indulge in those wants, even as you dug your claws into the bed as Kurt so slowly rode you, his hips moving at a pace that had your toes curling. Anything he did would have most likely had that reaction, but his soft accented voice cooing loving words at you, only served to leave you feeling more melted on the insides.

It was embarrassing how fast you finished. But who could blame you. You never had much experience, hell, you could count on two hands how many times you had ever touched yourself. It was no surprise you would cum so quickly, Kurts’s tail thrashing from side to side as he was filled more than he imagined possible.

His kisses were still just as sweet, as he worked himself over the edge too, dirtying his alb and your scaley stomach. This moment, Kurts’s act of dirtying his uniform himself, seemed to have been the only sign you needed, after that it was free game. He was the apple and the snake at the same time, packaged in blue fur and yellow eyes, his tail curling in coy ways only you knew how to read.

Kurt could never hate it, instead almost preening with pride as you finally let yourself indulge. Fucking him on the altar was a fantasy he had carried for a while, and when you finally did it the blue furred mutant almost passed out from how hard he finished, having to dig his fangs into his stole to keep from wailing at the intensity.

You would never step foot back into religion again, never to the extent where you could call yourself someone of faith, and Kurt would never force you. But you did end up going to Kurts services, on rare occasions, but that was more because you were excited for what would happen afterwards, after everyone else left. There was a demon in your chest, born from your family’s sins, fed by your own and nurtured to destroy. But Kurt tamed it, brushed its fur and held it close. There was a demon, and it was his.

557 notes · View notes

lunarlando · 6 months ago

Note

girl dad lando doing his babygirl's hair (she has his curls for sure hehe)!! he struggles a little but does a decent job at the end ~ maybe following a tutorial video or wifey is guiding him but creative freedom to you ❤️

so cute, thanks for the request! x

feel free to request more :)

“You’re in charge of one thing before we have to leave for brunch with your family.”

Lando glances up from where he's laid out on the carpet tickling a wildly giggling Estelle to see you with your hands on your hips.

You’re still one of the many shirts of his that you’ve resorted to using as pajamas since your currently seven month pregnant belly has popped, and you’re looking at him very pointedly, but he still smiles fondly at the sight of you. It’s just an unconscious thing that his face does, that it’s been doing since the day he met you.

“Mama!” Estelle squeals, pointing at you excitedly.

“Hi, my darling!” You wiggle your fingers at her, beaming at your little girl with enthusiasm.

“What’ve you got for me, babe?”

“Be the best husband ever and do your daughter’s hair.”

“Pretty sure I already am the best husband ever, but alright. Reckon her hair looks just fine the way it is, don’t you think?” He aims a sideways glance towards the toddler. Estelle’s hair is an exact replica of her father’s, tight curls that like to do whatever they want, as evident by the tornado of brown framing her chubby cheeks at the moment. Lando smacks his lips together, bobbing his head understandingly. “Yeah, okay, I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you, love.”

He scoops Estelle off the floor with an over-exaggerated grunt, climbing to his feet with her slung over his shoulder the way she always loves to be held by him. She shakes with peals of cute toddler giggles, patting him on the back surprisingly firm for a one year old, making him groan. “Woah, you’re getting so big and strong, Stell! C'mon, let’s go do your hair.”

You press a grateful kiss to his cheek as he passes you, booping Estelle’s nose playfully before they make their way down the hall to the bathroom.

Lando sets Estelle down on the bathroom counter, squinting at the items you’ve left next to the sink for him. A few combs, a small brush, a tiny water mister thing that he has no idea what to do with.

As if you sense he’s confused, you call from the bedroom, “D’you need some help getting started?”

“No, no. I’ve got this,” He calls back, grabbing a comb off the counter. “Dada’s got this, doesn’t he, lovebug?”

Estelle is too preoccupied with looking at herself in the mirror to hear him, though if she did, she probably would’ve said no. He has no idea how to do her hair. Sure, he knows how to do his own hair (barely), and hers is similar to his, but it’s different.

He pulls up the photo album he’s got on his phone of pictures of Estelle—ones he’s taken, ones you’ve sent him whilst he was away—hoping one of them will help him draw inspiration for today’s look.

One that particularly catches his eye is a photo from the mini holiday you all took during summer break a few months ago, where Estelle’s springy curls are pulled into two bunches towards the top of her head. From what he remembers, those bunches quickly ended up smeared with applesauce, but they were adorable while they lasted.

“Think this might be the one, how ‘bout you?” Lando turns the phone towards Estelle, showing her the photo. She aims a gummy smile at him, wiggling around happily. “Yeah, s’cute, innit? Alright, here we go.”

—

“Babe, would you c’mere for a second?”

Lando’s voice rings out from the bathroom after twenty minutes of silence, save for the occasional giggle. You’re all done getting ready, and as much as you want to pop your head in to see what’s happening, you’ll give your husband the benefit of the doubt. You pad down the hallway as fast as your pregnancy waddle will let you, not knowing what to expect.

“How’s it going in here, my loves?”

Lando stands back with his hands propped on his hips, head tilted. “I think I did pretty decent, no?”

Estelle’s got two tiny sort of space buns on her head, a little messy, but better than you were expecting, given Lando’s inexperience. She leans in your direction upon laying eyes on you, making grabby hands at you until you scoop her up. You shift her in your arms so she can see herself in the large mirror.

“Look, baby! Who’s that over there?” You coo encouragingly, pointing at her in the mirror with a big smile. Estelle mumbles something unintelligible, patting herself on the chest happily. “That’s right, it’s you! Dada did a fantastic job with your hair, didn’t he? You look so cute!”

Lando tosses the comb he’s holding behind his back and up over his shoulder, catching it and pretending to run it through his own curls in one smooth motion. “Call me Stell’s personal professional hairstylist.”

He’s serious about it too, giving a straight face until you manage to come up with a response.

“Is the racing not working out for you? Had to find another job?” You joke, chuckling lightly. He scoffs, bumping your hip with his. You reach up to give him a kiss on the cheek, then hold Estelle up too. “Give dada a kiss?”

Estelle knows the word kiss very well. Execution, not so much, but she tries her best as she plants what has to be the world’s wettest kiss to Lando’s cheek too. A younger Lando might’ve wiped the slobber away immediately, but dad Lando has no problem with it. He’s changed a lot since his younger days, especially since becoming a first time parent.

You’re both still navigating that journey together, but you’ll have a year and then some more experience once baby girl number two makes her arrival in t-minus two months time. But for now, you’ll cherish every moment with Estelle before your focus is split between two kids.

“Oh, thank you for the kiss, lovebug!” Lando chirps, booping her nose gently. “Usually I’d charge top dollar for a mint hairdo like this, but I’ll take that as payment since you’re so cute. You get it from your mum, don’t ya?”

“I dunno about that,” You hum, leaning into him. “Her dad’s pretty cute too.”

You don’t have it in you to tell him one of Estelle’s bunches sits higher than the other, not when he’s smiling down so proudly at the two of you like you’re his world.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #dad!lando norris x reader #girl dad!lando norris #girl dad!lando norris x reader #dad!lando norris x wife!reader #dad!lando norris #ln4 x reader #lando thoughts 💭

530 notes · View notes

takethelongroadhome · 25 days ago

Text

the thing that (imo) no one is acknowledging about astarion is that shame is a huge part of his psyche. just as much as (arguably more than) fear--an important aspect of his fear is that he fears becoming the person he was so ashamed of again.

most of the abuse he's implied to have experienced from cazador is so extremely degrading and humiliating that it's almost unimaginable. his siblings describe him as especially likely to fawn and submit for safety. leon goes out of his way to mock him for being cazador's "favorite," whatever the hell that means.

when he meets the 7,000 spawn for the first time, he's not just willing to sacrifice them for the ritual, he wants them to die--he hates them in a very visceral, personal way. the pity and guilt he feels for them is drowned out by his contempt-- they're "pathetic, horrible." if you call him out on the fact that they clearly remind him of himself, he absolutely flips out and says he killed that version of himself. he not only is willing to trick and kill his siblings, he not only thinks they deserve that, he is surprised that you feel differently. he was one of them barely a month ago! he knows that!

shame -> contempt sublimation is very real. when you hate yourself for what was done to you, it's barely a leap to begin hating others for what is done to them (I mean, he says outright that he doesn't want to help the gnome slaves in grymforge because they're depressing). he hates the person he was forced to become under cazador--the person who simpered and played along with the man systematically torturing him for his own gratification, who had to abandon all self-respect and dignity for survival, and so he draws a sharp distinction between past-astarion and free-astarion and is obsessed with separating himself from any trace of the former. anyone who's a victim like past-astarion gets hit with the full force of his contempt and disgust. free-astarion is good and worthy because he is no longer like those pathetic victims, and is free to look down on them all from his tadpole-enabled throne!

it's to the point where he actively gets joy out of seeing victims brutalized, because he's had to adopt cazador's worldview over the 200 years he spent trying to appease his every whim. (as much as he hates cazador, he also clearly "looks up" to him--he hypes him up as a threat like he's in a powerscaling argument with you. he has to! how else would he have survived?) you are either the powerful and dignified victimizer or the pathetic victim, and for once he gets to be in cazador's position, relishing the just punishment of the weak for being weak. he has no other model for what dignity can look like beyond this victimizer/victim dichotomy. if he wants basic self-respect, he thinks he has to be like this.

this isn't a good worldview, both in the moral sense and in the qualitative sense. it's miserable. astarion will never actually be able to achieve peace or happiness like this. no amount of power will satisfy his sense of shame--it certainly didn't for cazador! what he needs is to feel real compassion for other people and for his past self--not anger, not grievance, not bitterness, but actual compassion. that's part of why you get approval for talking him out of ascending--he may truly, desperately want to ascend, because everything he believes about the world is telling him that the 7,000 spawn deserve it and it's the only way for him to become worthy and whole and dignified, but even more than that, he wants someone to convince him that he's wrong.

obviously this isn't, like, the only factor at play in his head. he contains multitudes! but I do think it's an important one

#bg3 meta #astarion #bg3 #cw abuse

403 notes · View notes

skepticalkoi-catastrophe · 4 months ago

Text

𝕊𝕜𝕦𝕝𝕝 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕤

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader

Genre: Mutual Friendship, Hinted Mutual Crush, College Au

⚠️Warnings⚠️: None

Word count: 769

𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 [10:45 PM] - "Should I be worried that you know how to replicate fake blood this well? I probably should be, right?" Jinwoo jokes as he enters your dorm room.

You decided to be a killer playboy bunny for the Halloween party tonight. The five-kitchen ingredient mixture drips from your neck as only moments ago you finished your makeup.

"If you want to get bloody tonight, I've got enough to share." You chuckle, placing the bowl of red liquid on your desk. "Where's your costume?"

Originally, it was supposed to be you and your best friend. She got hit with a bad stomach virus the night before and was still in recovery.

He offered to be your plus one once you gave him the news. It's somewhat of a favor he owed you from before. He's dressed in a black cotton button-down, partially unbuttoned, with matching black jeans. Black high-top Chuck Taylor's on his feet.

"My package got delayed, so no Ghostface mask. You're my plan B."

"Plan B?"

He takes a seat at your desk, crossing his arms as he leans back into your chair. "You've got any ideas?"

You squint, trying to picture a look at him. Something that would take no time at all.

"A Skeleton." You snap your fingers, having an 'aha' moment.

His mouth curled into a smile as he nodded, lifting his shoulder in a half shrug. Digging through your makeup bag, whatever wasn't in there was strewn about.

Your posters, tapestries, and post-it notes with reminders and daily affirmations on them catch his attention. Everything had a similar color palette, from your sheets to your laundry basket to your rug beside your bed. It made him wish he'd stop by more often.

"Do you want me to paint your neck and chest too?" You asked, sizing him up as you organized your brushes and body paints.

Your question hangs in the air. He hasn't had his face painted since he was a child. Tonight was the one night he could be truly himself. Carefree and stupid like every other twentysomething. Based on your makeup alone, he knows he's in good, capable hands.

Jinwoo scoots forward in your chair.

"Yeah, go all out. Make me a skeleton."

You smirk, standing between his legs. Raking your fingers through his hair, you attach two larger hair clips. His exposed forhead meets a cooling sensation from your primer. Its slushy to then tacky consistency threw him off.

You trace a black outline around his eye sockets, whispering for him to close his eyes. He does so, allowing you to deepen the shadows. Drawing on his nasal cavities and each tooth across his upper and lower lip, you're deathly close. Your thumb smudges away any mistakes, much to his confusion. He almost thought you were doing it on purpose. Almost.

Down his neck, your thin brush goes as he twitches a tad. "Are you ticklish?" You take a go at him. There was no reply. He merely blinks and scoffs.

You keep going, carving out each spinel vertebrae. From the cervical to the thoracic vertebra, brushstrokes flowed into his ribcage. His toned chest surprises but doesn’t shock you. Guess all that excessive training paid off.

"Tell me, what made you take this route this year?" A cheeky grin plastered across his face. "Never would've thought you were one for the classics."

"Classic easy access, you mean?" You joke, applying the white body paint next. It fills in the shaped skull of his face like an X-ray. Your brush strokes earn another twitch out of him.

"Jin, quit moving, or you're gonna look like shit." You huff, sucking your teeth.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I can't help it. It feels weird."

His mischievous glint in his eyes trails up and down your neck and exposed chest.

"I guess I'm playing guard dog tonight, too? All things considered?"

"If you're looking for an excuse to kick some guy's ass for looking at me too hard, be my guest. You don't need my permission."

You straightened your stance, making sure every marking was symmetrical. Up went your thumb. It splits his face into two halves. Closing your right eye, your tongue sticks out from between your lips.

He leans his head to the left, taking your thumb in his larger hand and pulling you forward.

"Whaddaya doing?"

"Admiring my work, you're one hell of a canvas." You thread a hand through his hair, removing the hair clips. His bangs flow back where they were.

Jinwoo rises from your chair. His hand never lets go of yours, nor does he break his gaze.

"Paint me again sometime, yeah?"

If you enjoyed it, please comment, like, and reblog!

Divider created by @cafekitsune

A/N - HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🎃

308 notes · View notes

a-spes · 7 months ago

Text

| DEVIOUS LIES — Part two (8.790 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, AoS!OC x Avenger!Reader, Other Avengers, angst without comfort, cheating, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation, mentions of SA&SH, manipulation, toxic relationship (OCxR), revenge porn, use of drugs.

| Author's notes — I don't know how I feel about that second part, i'm not sure i like it, but now it's written it costs me nothing to share. So here we are. I can just hope that I managed to convey, at least a little, the emotions I wanted to. And, most importantly, take care of yourself.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

Almost a year has gone by, and it means one thing: in a few weeks, it’s going to be Natasha's birthday, again. The woman is not sure how she feels about it. She never really had a birthday before she joined the Avengers, and despite the years that have passed since, she still feels a certain awkwardness at this time of the year. Especially as the boys tended to do too much.

She could only pretend to match their enthusiasm. A slight smile spreads across her face as she takes a sip from her drink, staying silent. She has been listening to her teammates talking about her birthday’s party for almost half an hour now. She stopped trying to avoid it a long time ago, when she realized how much they enjoyed organizing this stupid party. She can deal with anything they’re going to come up with if she gets to see their smiles in exchange. Her sentence won’t last more than a few hours, but the memories are going to stick with them for eternity, and it has no price.

"Wait, you know what?” someone asked. It was Clint, and by the mischievous smile on his face, the redhead already knew that she wouldn't appreciate the next words that are going to come out of his mouth. “I think we should have the mascot come over again," he added, his eyes not leaving hers. "What? It was funny to have a cartoon version of you running around," he defended himself when he saw her glance darkening.

"You know what? Do whatever you want," she mumbled, “it’s not as if you were asking for my opinion anyway,” she eventually gave in. Sometimes, you have to know how to pick your battles, and that is one she definitely cannot win, not when all the others seem to appreciate the idea.

"That’s such a great idea!” one exclaimed, and this time it was Peter Parker, “Mr. Stark, do you think they would accept to come again?” he asked the man.

"Obviously!" Tony replied without an ounce of hesitation, laughing at the question. The man thought it was a stupid thing to ask, "she likes you too much to miss your birthday,” he explained, pointing at the redhead while saying those words. "What? She pretends it’s not true, but I know she is lying. I can see right through her and, believe me, she’ll be here," he explained when he noticed the confused looks of his teammates.

"Who’s she?" a voice asked, cutting short to Tony’s rambling. That’s the question that has been on everyone’s minds, but that no one dared to ask out loud, except for one of them — And it hasn’t been Natasha, it is Steve that spoke first.

On the contrary, the woman remained silent because she didn’t need words to express herself, a silent conversation taking place between the billionaire and her through a simple glance. Even if she already has her suspicions, and is almost sure that she knows the answer to that question, she wants him to say it, refusing to believe it otherwise.

The moment she saw the box, she was intrigued by it, something drawing the woman to the small package that no one claimed as theirs. It’s almost as if it came out of nowhere, no one knowing who left it here, or what may be inside the black box. At first, she thought it was some joke, but she knew they were being honest when saying they had nothing to do with the gift. And if she had expected a lot of things to be wrapped in the red ribbon, she definitely wasn’t ready for a ghost from her past to emerge from it.

A quick glance before she suddenly closes the box again, that’s all it took for the redhead to know who was behind that gift. The only thing she could think about was how — How did it happen without any of them noticing your presence? Despite the appearances, and the smile she was trying to keep on, the woman was shaken — Why would you do that, more than two years after your break up? Could it be that you are that desperate?

"Is everything okay?" Clint asked, being the only one to seem to notice a change in Natasha’s behavior. At least, everyone had enough restraint to not ask the question that burns their lips — What’s inside the box?

She wouldn’t have answered if one of them had asked. She wouldn’t even have opened the gift if she had known that it was from you, and that’s probably why you left it on the table, avoiding giving it to her directly. Smart girl, she thought. At first sight, the woman couldn’t tell it was coming from you but there was no doubt remaining once she saw the content — There is only one person on Earth that cares enough to give her such a gift. A person that constantly looks after her, guessing what the redhead wasn’t telling.

A person that she used to love.

A person that couldn’t be here, was she? The woman can’t help but glance around but she can’t find your face. What was she expecting anyway? To see you in the corner of the room with a bright smile and your arms open for her to throw herself in a hug? That was stupid, and so is the hint of hope she felt when she opened the box. The others told her many times she has to turn the page, but she doesn’t seem ready to let you go. Even after two years, she is still craving your presence as much as before.

The thought of it puts to shame the redhead who knows she shouldn’t hold on to the past, especially when the past in question has a pretty face and breaks her heart. Even after what you’ve done to her, she has spent hours crying, praying for you to come back. Even after listening to the others assuring her that she deserves better, she couldn’t forget how you’ve always been the most caring, and strong, and beautiful person she has ever met in her life.

You weren’t horrible. Were you?

Sometimes, she thinks you are a monster.

Sometimes, she thinks she is, for not listening to you that day.

That day, she let her anger speak for her, something she swore she would never do again. When she started to realize that, maybe, she should’ve listened to your version of the events, it was too late. At the time, she couldn’t bear to hear the sound of your voice or see your voice, but after two years, as the memory of it starts to fade away, she surprised herself to miss it.

Except that Fury had refused to tell her where you were. She tried to ask nicely, to beg, and even to threaten the man, but none of it worked. He said that you needed time, that you’ll be back when you are ready, not before. Despite her frustration, the woman accepted it. After all, she is the one to blame, the one that puts herself in such a situation. She could only hold on to the fact that, one day, you’ll be back. Right? As the days go by, the likelihood of ever seeing you again is gradually diminishing. Some nights, when she can’t sleep, she stays up, eyes fixed on her laptop’s screen — Maybe she could give fate a helping hand? She knows she could find you easily. Yet, despite her urge to do it, she has always ended up closing her laptop without starting the research.

She has to trust Fury, she repeats to herself. Even if she sometimes disagrees with the man, even if it’s frustrating, she has to believe him when he says that you are safe.

Some other nights, all she can feel is anger, and hatred. The redhead is lost, and scared, again, something she never thought she would feel again the day you two met. What if it was true, and you really cheated on her? Then, you could do it again if she forgives you, because history always repeats itself, and you are no exception to the rules of the universe. She knows how people tend to promise a lot of things that they don’t mean, especially when they are desperate, which is exactly what you’ve been that day. She couldn’t forget the look on your face when she dragged you out of the building, the despair in those bright eyes, glistening with tears. This is the only thing she can remember when she thinks about you. Not the good moments you’ve shared, only the brutality of the end of your relationship.

You've abandoned her, and so did she.

It has been three since she last saw you, and almost a year since her birthday party, but the woman couldn’t stop thinking about it. She didn’t take the gift, leaving the jewelry in the box, and the box on a shelf. She hasn't touched it since. How could she when just the sight of it was already too much to bear?

Every day, when she wakes up, it is one of the first things she sees, and one of the last when she goes to sleep. If it doesn’t feel right to the woman to take the gift, it doesn’t feel right to throw it in the bin either, so it stayed here as a constant reminder of what she has done. Every time she thinks she is finally over it, the box rekindles her doubts. There are some things she can’t quite understand about the situation, and why you would give her such a gift, two years after she kicked you out, is one of them.

Maybe it was a poisoned gift. Maybe it was a sick trick to make her feel guilty, a way to get her to crawl back to you. Beside these possibilities, she couldn’t think of any others that were likely, and she was afraid to admit that your plan was working. The box was a permanent reminder of your existence, something she couldn’t get herself to give away because of those dumb feelings she was experiencing. Somehow, she was holding on to that last piece of your years together after she threw away everything else with the help of the team.

The pictures, the clothes, the gifts, even your favorite cutlery has been burned a few days after you left them. It is almost as if you’ve never stepped a foot into the building, as if you’ve never existed. The woman was fine with the idea of pretending that nothing happened — She was fine with the idea of erasing every remaining part of your relationship.

Except that black box. It is stupid how she hangs onto that last proof of the relationship she once had with you. She had burned everything, but she couldn’t get herself to do the same with that gift. Maybe because she knew that she could never erase you completely from her life. She surely could pretend, it is a game she is really good at, but you would always be on the back of her mind because memories don't go away as easily as objects do.

Since she had opened the box, doubt had been creeping inside of her — What if? What if she has been wrong the whole time? What if she should have listened to you? Give you a second chance? That day, her reaction had been dictated by anger and hatred, feelings that still inhabit her soul, but have faded over the years. For two years, she had been sure that she made the right choice — At least, that’s what everyone kept telling the woman, and she listened to their comforting words.

But since she opened the box, she was no longer sure of anything. She wasn’t the one that wanted you gone in the first place. She surely needed a bit of space before being able to talk with you properly, but only a few days, maybe a few weeks, not two years, and definitely not more than that. That little box only worsened her doubt because who would be desperate enough to still cling to the person they betrayed, years after the events? A person truly in love. She had kept her doubts for herself before that day. If she is almost sure of the identity of the person who gave her the box, because there is only one person on that planet that cares enough to gift her something so meaningful, there are still a lot of questions to which she doesn’t have the answers — For example, how did you manage to sneak into the building without everyone knowing? She now knows that someone knew the whole time.

“Tell me,” she firmly asked the man, leaving little room for discussion.

No one pointed out the thing he has said about the mascot, the subject of the conversation quickly changed after that. Except, while they were talking about which flavor the cake should be, Natasha could think of nothing but Tony’s words — “She likes you too much to miss your birthday”, “she pretends it’s not true but I know she is lying.” So when everyone eventually decided to go back to their rooms, around two in the morning, she stayed a bit longer in the common room in hope of getting some information.

“Sorryy, I can’t, I don’t know anything,” the man replied, indifferent to her tone, “anything at all,” he repeated, chuckling like a child who has done something wrong.

The woman sighs, pinching her nose as she takes a deep breath, trying to not lash out her frustration on the man. The conversation isn’t exactly going the way she had hoped, Tony refusing to answer her question no matter how many times she has already asked. She even tried to blackmail him, but he was persistent in pretending that he didn’t know anything. When he almost falls on the ground trying to get a few steps back, it has been the last straw for the woman. Gladly, someone entered the room before she could hit him so hard that it would have sobered him in an instant.

"Is everything okay?" the voice asked, and both of them immediately shut up to turn their heads toward the woman who just entered the room, Astrid. She is leaning in the doorway, her gaze alternating between Tony and Natasha.

She hates her. Not as much as she hates you, but she still feels resentful toward the agent. When she smiles, when she speaks, even when she is just here, existing, the woman can’t help but hate her from the depths of her heart. Gladly, she rarely sees her, as an agent of the S.H.I.E.L.D., she is only around when they have outstanding missions. If Natasha had a choice, she would’ve thrown her away with you that day.

"She wants me to admit that her girlfriend was the one in the costume," he immediately replied, "but sshht, we can’t let her know that!" he added, holding his index finger in front of his mouth for a few seconds before leaving the room giggling.

"I know what happened," she eventually said when she noticed that Natasha was about to leave after a few seconds when they glanced at each other in silence. "Th- That night, in the motel room~," she added, her voice being hesitant. Those words made the redhead stop in her tracks.

"If you're about to rub in my face how you've ruined my life, you can shut up," she immediately cut her, not wanting to listen to the woman, not if it’s to tell her about how she fucked the woman she loves. Her voice was full of anger, just like the murderous look in her eyes. The only thing that prevented the woman from immediately leaving the room was the thing she saw in the other’s eyes. Her attitude betrayed her emotions, a mix of guilt, sadness, and shame, which aroused her curiosity.

With a nod, she ordered her to continue.

That morning, as many others, you are woken up by your girlfriend’s gentle touches, her fingers slowly tracing circles on your stomach. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips before your turn around, nuzzling your head further into the crook of her neck.

How could you have known it would be the last time? How could you have possibly guessed that the routine you’ve got used to would be broken so quickly?

Every morning, it is the same thing, and while the former spy has no problems getting up early, you definitely can’t say the same for yourself. She is always awake before you are and, even if she had never admitted it, you are sure that she takes a few minutes to observe your sleeping form. She loves seeing you so peaceful and calm, being able to have a glimpse of your face without those worry lines, without the marks of your anxieties.

She is always the one who wakes you up, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. There is no better way to start a day than Natasha’s sweet words and caresses. It’s her fault if you never want to get out of bed, wishing every morning that you could stay in that bed, next to her, for the rest of your life. Sometimes, you suggest that you tell the others you are sick, just to spend a day together, but she just laughs, dismissing your idea.

But all the good things must come to an end, right?

"It's time to get up, milaya," she softly said in your ear, her breath tickling your skin, "Astrid won't be happy if you are late again," she added when the only answer you gave her was a groan of discontent.

"They won't say anything if I am late once, it's okay", you mumbled, her words not being enough to convince you to leave the comfort of her arms.

Especially when you realize that there is nothing to get excited about the day ahead of you, in perspective, only hours spent in an office, listening to men who think they know everything better than you do. Today, you are supposed to attend an important meeting alongside Astrid, and you still don’t know why you volunteered. The thought of the paperwork and the efforts that you will have to put in pretending that you are actually happy to be here definitely don’t worth your pay.

Except that you’ve lied to Natasha, and she knows it. This is definitely not the first time that you are being late, it happens almost every day, to the point that the day you are in time can probably be counted on your hands. Gladly, when you are coming in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters, it's Astrid who’s your supervisor, and she appears to also be your best friend. Most of the time, she is kind enough to accept to close her eyes on your delays. Today, you came in only ten minutes late, and the woman was somehow impressed, expecting you to be later than that.

“You’re late, again,” she replied, obviously waiting for an excuse that you don't have. She would know if you are lying to her, and you don't have the energy for that kind of game today, and you could see that the woman neither. She was starting to get tired of every day starting with the same bullshit coming from your mouth.

“I am so, so, sorry,” you said to her for what may be the tenth time since you’ve entered the office. She is walking fast, and you are trying to catch up with the black-haired woman, who is also your superior within the S.H.I.E.L.D. “Please, don’t tell Fury,” you begged, but all she did was roll her eyes, and give you a file when you eventually reached her office. You quickly glanced at it before closing it again, your attention focused on the woman, “Astrid, I am serious. He is going to give me more paperwork if you do. Or worse. Imagine if he forces me to train the new recruits, you know I can’t do that again. Please, …,” you added, looking at her imploringly.

“And what do I have in exchange?” she sighed, turning around to look at you, one eyebrow raised. Despite her serious expression, you know she was trying to not laugh. She may be your boss, but above all she is your friend, and you both know that she would never tell Fury about your delays. Even if she has threatened you to do so a few times in the past, she has never actually done it. Yet, this time she felt like she needed something in exchange, she had covered for you enough time for free, and you were happy to thank your friend with whatever she may want.

“Anything you want!” you replied, desperate but no less honest.

“Tonight, after work, you pay me a drink, deal?” she asked after pretending to think for a few seconds. In reality, she already knew what she wanted from you. She has thought about asking you out since the moment you met, something you’ve never noticed, always reducing her to the role of a friend, and not keeping up on the clues she was leaving you. Tonight, however, she will be clearer than she has ever been.

“Deal!” you immediately said, accepting the proposal without thinking twice about it. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much. You are the best," you added, kissing your friend on the cheek before leaving the room quickly, a sight that made the woman chuckle.

It is a deal that makes you both happy. You have met Astrid at the Academy, when you were both trainees that dreamed of joining the S.H.I.E.L.D. without even knowing if you were good enough for that. The two of you quickly became close — That’s the kind of thing that happens where you are the only two females of your promotion. Either you hate each other over your dead bodies, or you grow so close that you become inseparable.

Except that, since you've both achieved your dreams and joined S.H.I.E.L.D, something changed in your relationship. It wasn’t your fault, nor hers, that you had less time to see each other, your jobs taking a lot of your time and energy. Then you've been assigned on a long-term mission with the Avengers, and you’ve spent less time at the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters despite still working for the organization. Then you've met Natasha, and you feel like you’ve slightly grown apart from each other after you’ve announced to her your new relationship. On the whole, you had less time to spend with your best friend, and the promises to make up for the lost time have never been kept, not until today. That deal was the perfect occasion to spend a bit of time together outside of the office work.

You both really hoped that this night would make things back as they were before.

"You know, I love her," she confessed to the redhead, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she felt tears filling her eyes. "Since the day we met, I have loved her. That's what I told her, that night, when we went out," she admitted, and Natasha felt her heart pounding in her chest, her hands were shaking with apprehension, “but she rejected me. She loves you so much, too much," she sadly chuckled, but the redhead felt no relief when she heard those words because they were not explaining the pictures. She can't cry, not now, not in front of that woman.

"Continue," she ordered, feeling that the woman had more to say than that. She already knew that Astrid loved you, you may be the only one that hadn't seen it, or maybe you were pretending, or maybe you were blinded by your love for Natasha.

"I didn't plan to do that, you know," she started, carefully looking at the spy, "but I was so desperate that night, and I-," she said, except she was unable to finish her sentence, the words stuck in her throat.

The past three years, she had kept the truth a secret. At first, she thought it was better that way. The woman was ashamed of her actions, and she was relieved when heard that you’ve been transferred to another department, and she thought that her secret would be safe. Except that, if everyone acted as if you’ve never existed, her mind didn’t allow her to forget. Every hour of every day, you were in her mind, and the longer she thought about that night, the biggesther guilt became, until the burden was too heavy to bear. Tonight, hearing them argue about you, has been the last straw.

“What did you do?” she asked, sensing that something was wrong. She didn’t like the feeling that was creeping inside of her, “what. did. you. do.?” she asked once again, but more firmly that time, when the other didn’t immediately answer her question. As she saw the hesitation, she reduced the distance between them in a second, her hand gripping the collar of Astrid’s shirt that she pins to the wall abruptly, “tell me. Now,” she insisted as the interaction only reinforced the bad feeling she had.

That morning, unlike the others, you woke up alone. There haven’t been the gentle caresses of your girlfriend to wake you up, nor her sweet words to coax you into getting up. No, that day, it was only yourself, draped into the cold sheets, and it felt so strange, the silence and the loneliness of the room. Sadly, it has not been the exception you’ve wished it would be, but only the first of too many mornings like that.

In the sleepy state you were in, it took you a few seconds to realize that something was wrong, and almost a minute before you noticed that you weren’t home. You couldn’t even recognize the place you were in, only knowing that it looked like a hotel, a shitty one if you might say. The room was small, simple, and not-so-comfortable. There was something in the ambience that gave you an uneasy feeling about the whole thing, but you were unable to say what it was exactly.

Your head is throbbing, and you are definitely feeling nauseous, but you know that’s not the problem. Your physical distress isn’t the cause of the weight on your chest, the one that makes your breath aching, it’s something else that your mind can’t comprehend yet. It’s all these inconsistencies. The missing memories of last night, the unknown room, the fact that you are alone,... you don’t remember drinking that much last night. You may not be the most responsible person that planet has known, but you know how to handle yourself. Usually.

Could you have possibly drunk that much?

The day has barely started, but you already know it is going to be a rough one. If only you knew how right you were, maybe you would have taken a few more hours of sleep, enjoying the comfortable peace of your old life a bit longer before joining the chaos. Yet, you had no means to guess that your day would go that way.

It's a note left on the bedside table that answered all your questions, easing some of the worries that were creeping inside of you. Someone has written the following words : “Couldn’t get you home because of how drunk you were. don’t worry about being late today, I won’t tell Fury. however, had to go on a mission, be careful when you go home. I left you a bit of money, it should be enough to pay for the room and an Uber. Love you.” The message might not have been signed, but you can easily recognize Astrid’s handwriting. A smile spreads across your lips as you are reassured, the situation not being as bad as your mind made it look.

Some memories of last night flew back in your mind, but it’s only a glimpse of what happened, a lot of the events staying unknown to yourself. The last thing you can remember is the conversation you had with Astrid, when she admitted that she loved you and you replied that you too, thinking she meant as friends because you couldn’t see her any other way, not when you were already engaged in a relationship. The rest of the exchange is confused, and you are not sure what’s real and what has been made up by alcohol. Even today, you are still not sure.

Maybe you’ve really drunk too much that night.

Knowing that you’ve been with Astrid the whole time was reassuring, and you are no longer as bothered by the absence of memories. For a moment, you thought you'd been kidnapped by some weird man. As you regain your composure, your thoughts become clearer and you decide that the first thing you should do is to send a message to your girlfriend. She must be so worried, and your heart aches at the thought that you might be a source of problem for the woman you love.

It is not your kind to not keep your promises, and you’ve told her you would be home last night. It is not your kind either to not answer her messages or calls. In reality, you are quite the opposite, always sending her hundreds of messages when you are out with your friends. The only reason she hasn’t got after you is because she knew you were with Astrid, and she trusted you. However, the sweet messages are going to have to wait because, when you try to turn your phone on, you only encounter a black screen, a sign that you’ve run out of battery. Obviously, your friend didn’t think to leave you a charger.

You sigh, admitting your defeat. Shaking your phone surely won’t change the situation. For the moment, there is nothing more you can do, except hoping that Natasha won’t be too angry. As you are getting ready, your mind is focused on how to earn the redhead’s forgiveness — Maybe you could stop to buy her some flowers? You hate it, when the two of you are arguing. It doesn’t happen a lot, but it’s never pretty, and the mere thought that it might happen was already hurting.

As you definitely couldn’t go back to the compound by yourself, not knowing how far you were and being in a pitiful state, you decided to use the money left by Astrid to call a cab, as she instructed you to do. It’s not before you enter the car that you realize how late you actually were. It is almost one in the afternoon, and if you are not an early riser, like your girlfriend who is always up by six at the latest, you rarely get up after ten.

It has been a thirty minutes drive back to the compound, and the whole time you were thinking about two things: taking a shower, and leaning into your girlfriends’ arms. You are so exhausted, physically and mentally, that you’ve decided to skip work today — You were already so late that it wouldn’t make a big difference anyway. The journey was long, and those thirty minutes felt like hours.

Soon enough, you started to suffocate into your own mind, then skin. You felt so sweaty, and dirty, that it quickly became unbearable. Maybe it was the effects of the alcohol, or maybe because you’ve slept in a seedy motel, but the only thing you wanted was to get rid of the clothes you were wearing and the uncomfortable state you were in as soon as possible.

When you enter the compound, you find it empty, and so is the room you are sharing with the woman. If you frown, you don’t think much about it. If the building is rarely empty, it sometimes happens when emergencies are called. A whine escapes your lips as you realize that, if it’s true, they are going to be mad at you for not being here when they needed it. You can already feel your mind losing itself to self-hatred thoughts, as you mutter to yourself how stupid you are. You are going to need more than a few flowers to earn their forgiveness. The fact that JARVIS confirmed that everyone was at the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s quarters didn’t, you would have preferred to hear that they went to the restaurant without you rather than that.

Tears brimming your eyes, you quickly put your phone to charge. It is only when you get out of the shower, twenty minutes later, that you saw the missed calls and messages from Natasha. The most recent ones were sent a few minutes ago. There were too many of them for you to take time to read everything so you just sent her a quick text that said: “sorry, my battery was dead, and I couldn’t answer your calls. I’ll explain everything, I promise. see you soon. love you.” A message she saw but she didn’t answer, which is unusual and an obvious hint of how angry she probably is.

Despite your decision to not work today, you still end up in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters. You are almost running in the corridors, going to the meeting room where you find your girlfriend, and the rest of the Avengers. When you stumble into the room, a deadly silence descends. None of them greeted you, and the only reaction you got was Fury’s nod when you started mumbling excuses for your late arrival. While your eyes immediately landed on the redhead, she didn’t glance at you once of the entire meeting. The sight made your heart sink. You love her, but you have to admit that the spy is scary when she has that stern expression on her face, one that leaves no room for discussion.

The safest decision was to sit on the furthest chair, leaving her space until you get the opportunity to explain yourself. Something that you hadn't had a chance to do before a few more hours, when you stumbled into her in the corridors. You have been lost in your mind, having a hard time focusing on your work. Earlier, when the meeting ended, she immediately left the room, not leaving you a chance to exchange a word with her, and it has been bugging you since.

“Please, wait,” you said, already begging the woman. When she heard your voice, she stopped, allowing you to gently grab at her arm so she didn't go. She could, if she wanted to, and a part of her did want to run away, but the rest of her knows that this conversation can’t be avoided. “Listen, I- I am sorry,” you started once you were sure she was willing to listen to your excuses, “I should have warned you, but I couldn’t, my phone’s battery was dead and, and- honestly? I don't remember much of what happened last night. All I know is that once was enough. It won't happen again,” you chuckled sadly. When you woke up that morning, you promised to yourself that it was the last time you drank that much. A promise you kept, and three years later, you still haven’t touched a bottle of alcohol. “I promise, 'tasha. Please, don't be mad at me for that, or at least tell me how I can make up for my mistake,” you said, and the woman knew she had heard enough.

“Seriously?” she scoffed, breaking free of your grip. “I can’t believe you are that stupid,” she said, as she started to walk away. But if she didn’t want to hear the sound of your voice any more, you, however, weren’t done yet.

"I know I’ve made a mistake, but I am fine, isn’t it the most important?” you asked, starting to follow. Except that, when she heard your steps in her back, she accelerated her pace. “I promise to be more careful next time but, you know, I can handle myself for one night. Well, I might have drunk a bit too much, but Astrid was wi~,” you tried to explain, except she cut short your ramblings. To say, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the woman quickly cut you. She scoffed again, in disbelief this time.

"You are really stupid, aren't you?” she said, stopping in her tracks, and you almost ran into her, surprised by her sudden stop. A few more seconds passed before she turned around to face you, her posture matching her stern expression. “Do you think I don't know what happened last night, with Astrid? Do you really think I wouldn’t have known the truth?” she added, taking a step forward for every question she asked, and you took one back every time, until your back hit the walls. You would certainly have found the situation hot if she didn’t look like she was about to murder you.

“W- what?” you said, “you are mad because I went out with a friend. That’s the problem? Astrid is the problem?" you snapped, starting to feel frustrated about the whole situation.

You are tired, and the only thing you’ve wanted to do since you opened your eyes that morning — Throwing yourself in your girlfriend’s arms — was impossible to do. You hadn’t expected the woman to give you such a hard time. You knew she could be jealous sometimes, you’ve already had arguments about that in the past, but you’ve always been understanding because you know that her jealousy isn’t caused by a lack of trust. This feeling is fuelled by her own insecurities and past. Except that, that time, it was too much. The way she wouldn't listen to your excuses is seriously hitting on your nerves.

"Don't you dare to lie to me,” she said. For a moment, you thought she was going to hit you, but she took a step back before she could do that. She was angry too, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ease the feeling. “I trusted you,” she eventually added but her tone was different — The anger left her voice, replaced by pain. “I trusted you and, most importantly, I loved you,” she whispered, turning around to see you one last time. “After everything I have done for you, I can't believe that's how you are thanking me. You know, I really thought you were different, better," she laughed, trying very hard to not throw you against the walls or worse, to cry. The most insufferable was the look in your eyes, the false innocence. She was tired of pretending, she had given you enough chances to tell her the truth, “but you’re not,” but now, she was done trying.

That is the last time the two of you talked. The next time you’ve seen her, she hasn’t been kind enough to let you have a chance to explain things. She was done trying, and so were you. The last words she said are still ringing in your head, even years later. Maybe if you'd chased her once again that day, things would have ended differently, but you haven’t moved. You couldn’t, petrified by the conversation that just took place, you have just watched the redhead walking away without glancing back.

It’s only when you enter the break room that you understand the whole conversation you had with Natasha. No one was here, but the walls had been covered with pictures of yourself. At first, you thought it was a prank from your teammates’ but the pictures were all but innocent. You felt your heart sink when you took down one of the photos to get a closer look at it, and tears in your eyes when you realized that you were nude in those.

It was you, in bed, with Astrid. Your face doesn’t entirely show but you can easily recognize yourself and the bed you’ve woken up in that morning. There were dozens of different pictures, but all showed similar scenes: your bodies against each other as you are obviously sharing an intimate moment. Something that you should only share with one person on that Earth. A person that is definitely not Astrid.

Except that the more you look at those pictures, the more foreign they feel. You are sure you are the one in the pictures, but you are still unable to remember what happened. Slowly, doubt creeps into your heart — Did you drink that much last night?

So much that you betrayed the woman you swore to love until the sun dies?

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. You are suddenly overwhelmed by a bunch of emotions that you can’t describe, but that are definitely not pleasant. It is a mix of confusion, anger, guilt, and disgust. The pictures speak for themselves, and they leave little room for doubt about what you were doing — And you were surely not just sleeping. The woman was on top of you, her mouth closed to your neck, maybe she was leaving soft kisses against your skin, maybe she was whispering sweet things in your ears, you don’t know. But the thing you were focused on was her hand hidden by the sheets, leaving only your imagination to complete the scene. It wasn’t the only picture of that kind: they were all picturing similar scenes. You can easily understand her rage and hatred earlier because you are now sharing those feelings with your girlfriend, just for different reasons.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" a voice said, pulling out of your mind. It was Astrid, who just entered the room. She glanced around before looking back at you, a sad smile spreading on her lips when she notices the tears that are soaking your face. and you saw Astrid entering the room. She looks around, a sorry look on her face. "I am sorry,” she started, and you could feel she was looking for the right thing to say, “I- I sent the pictures to the wrong person. When I realized, I tried to explain to Romanoff but, well… you know how she is,” she explained, shrugging as if she was trying to make you believe she had actually tried to, “she wouldn't listen to me, and they- they did that before I could stop them. It doesn’t please me either," she added, reminding you that you weren’t the only one suffering from the situation. Except she seemed to deal with the situation better than you do. As she talked, she slowly walked closer to you, accompanying each of her sentences with a few steps forward until she was close enough to wrap you in her arms.

You didn’t get the energy to push her away.

"Did we.. ?" you asked, but your voice broke before you could finish your sentence. It felt too difficult to say those words out loud — “Did we hook up? Did I cheat on Natasha?” But the woman doesn’t need the words to be said, she seems to read in your mind the end of your sentence.

"Of course we did, what kind of question is that?" she replied, frowning. She seems to be surprised by your question. For a second, the hand that was slowly caressing the back of your head stopped. The woman pulled back a little, just so she could see your face. "Why? Do you regret it?" she asked, and for an instant she seemed to be genuinely worried about your reaction, "because you didn't seem to last night, when you cried my name,..." she whispered in your ear. You could feel her breath tickling your skin but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling, unlike when Natasha does it.

Everything felt so much. Her voice, her touch, her presence so close to you, was now unbearable. As she remembers the night you’ve spent, a soft smirk spreads on her lips, but you are definitely not sharing her feelings. “Of course we did.” The words loop back into your mind, it seeps in like a poison that quickly takes over your whole being. Soon, you are paralyzed by an awful feeling. It hurts, but at the same time you are not sure you are actually feeling something, your body and mind feeling so foreign to you — If you wanted it, why does it feel so wrong?

At that moment, if you had been able to move, you would have ripped your ears off just so you wouldn’t hear her voice any more, and maybe you would have done the same with your skin. It felt like the only way to get rid of your overwhelming feelings. Suddenly, the reassuring touch of your best friend made you feel gross, and so do her sweet words — But if she said that you did it, and wanted it, then it must be true, right?

You have seen the pictures, they are in your hands, right under your eyes. You can see yourself betraying the woman you love and in those, you really don't give the impression that you didn’t want to. On the contrary.

"No, no, it- it's not that, it’s just…," you eventually managed to say, but you are hesitating and unsure of yourself. There are too many thoughts and words clouding your head, so many ways you could react and yet, none of what you could say or do felt right. "It’s just that I don’t even remember last night,” you admitted, feeling ashamed about it, “I mean, did we- you know,... for real?" you asked softly but you were not even listening to Astrid’s answer, the question was more for yourself in reality. "Sorry, I have to go, see you later", you said, interrupting the woman. Somehow, you regained control over your body, just enough to push the other away and leave the room. You are not sure where you are going, but as far from that room as you can is already a good start.

That's where she found you when she came home that night, sitting on the bathroom's floor, the pictures in your hands.

Your hand is still wrapped tightly around the pictures, but you didn’t notice it. Not before being back home, in the room you are sharing with Natasha — Or were sharing, you thought, unsure about how the situation would unfold. It may be the last time you set a foot in that room that has been your safe place for months. Before you could completely break down, you decided to take a shower, thinking that, maybe, the steaming water would be enough to ease your mind. You took two showers. Then three, then four, and maybe more. You can’t be sure, you’ve stopped counting. All you knew was that it hasn’t been enough to get rid of the uneasy feelings and thoughts. You’ve scrubbed yourself until your skin was so sensitive that even the touch of the towel has been painful — But maybe you deserved it.

The rest of the day is a blur, and you are not sure what time it is. You’ve spent hours on the bathroom’s floor, your left hand clenched around the picture while the right one was holding the towel. Your head was so empty, but so full at the same time. That’s how she found you when she came home that night, and if she had been tempted to wrap you in her arms when she saw your pitiful state, the conversation she just had with the others discouraged her to do so — You didn’t deserve her pity. They are right when they say that you are not the victim: you are the one that cheated on her, and she needs to be firm, stern. You knew how hard it is for the woman to trust someone and yet, you still broke the fate she had put in you after years of making her dream of a better future.

"Oh, so you remember now?" she coldly said to you when she entered the room. You didn’t move, not even your eyes to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that the woman was leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed. Maybe you would have also seen that her coldness was only a facade, and that she was as close as you were from breaking down.

You stayed silent, unable to say anything. The words were stuck in your clenched throat, and they aren’t feeling right anyway — How could you defend yourself when you didn't even know what happened exactly? Plus, you weren’t even sure there was something to defend, the pictures speaking for themselves. Even when she started packing your belongings, you didn’t move. For you to move, she had to grab your arm and drag you all the way outside the Avengers’s building by herself.

She needed you gone, and everyone agreed that it was only for the best. At least for a few weeks, just the time for things to calm down. That’s what she came to announce. The few words that left your mouth were useless, your pleas falling in deaf ears: the decision had already been made, and the sentence was irrevocable. The woman is done with your bullshit. She is done with you, and so you are.

"The pictures, they- they aren't real," she eventually admitted, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she unburdens herself of this old secret. “I mean, th- they are, but it’s a staging. Nothing happened between us, she- hm, loves you too much to give you away,” she continued, tears filling her eyes as she talks, her voice wavering a little more with each word. "She isn't even conscious in these," she continued when the spy didn’t react. If the black-haired woman thought it was because the other was listening, it was because she didn’t know how to react.

The weight of what she had done left her shoulder, and it was now lingering in the room, where the air was suddenly thick, and almost unbreathable. Natasha felt a weight in her chest that made each breath harder than the previous one. Overcome by surprise, she had let go of the other, stepping back a few steps. Her thoughts were racing, numerous and contradictory, they weren’t coherent enough to allow how to respond in any way. She needed to do something, but she didn’t know what.

“I- I don’t know why I did that. It wasn’t me, that night, you know that, right? That I would usually never ever do something like that,” she started to defend herself when she saw the look on Natasha’s face, “I was so angry, and disappointed, when she refused. I have given her everything since we met, and yet you are the one she chose. I thought that, maybe, with a bit of time she would eventually realize her mistake, … but I was so wrong,” she sighed, and the redhead could see the remnants of that anger in her attitude. A clenching jaw and fists, accompanied with firm words that left no doubt about the resentment she held towards her, and towards you. “That night, I- I wasn’t myself. We’ve already had a few drinks and, you know, it doesn’t mix well with emotions,” she continued, and the woman could feel her anger rising with every word the other spoke. “All I could think about was getting revenge. I wanted to show her she was wrong, that I had so much more to offer than she thought. I wanted her to change her mind, to see me for more than just a friend,” she admitted, her voice being just a whisper as she says the last sentence. “I never thought it would end this way, I swear, you’ve to believe me, Natasha,” and to forgive me. She didn’t say the last words out loud, but she doesn’t need to, her eyes are speaking for herself.

Only, when her gaze met the redhead’s, she didn’t see in her eyes the compassion she had been expecting, only pure hatred, an emotion that had quickly replaced the initial surprise. Not even a word was addressed to her as the other left the room, leaving her alone to dry her tears.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

| Taglist — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @gemz5, @jusnough, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

#a spes writing #devious lies #mcu fandom #mcu fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction #reader insert #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #angst writing #angst without comfort #anon request

516 notes · View notes

katiascraft · 2 months ago

Text

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

🔎 chapter one: "love is short but forgetting is so long"

chapter two: “did the love affair maim you too?” -> chapter three

summary: It’s the story of a woman frozen in the moment her world fell apart. A perfect dinner ended with, “I met someone else,” and while everyone moved on, she remained stuck in that instant, unable to let go of the past. A poignant tale of heartbreak, grief, and the weight of being trapped in a “forever” that never was.

word count: +4,5k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

It's been a few crazy days for you. After what happened last time, it took you a few days to go back to the last flower cafe to write. You preferred writing in your studio at home. You had a comfy balcony with a lovely view of the Monaco sea. So you just took inspiration from it to write another chapter of your book.

Seeing Charles confused you. You didn't know what to think or how to feel about it. You got scared you would see him again. But at the same time, you wanted to see him again.

It felt confusing because you knew it wasn't right for you or the best to see him again, or wanting to or whatever. But even if he broke your psyche the way he did, you couldn't stop thinking about the what ifs.

What if this time works? What if he was immature but he is worth it? What if this time is better? What if he feels the same way you do? What if he says he’s sorry? What if you forgive him?

All of those questions filled the fire to write. Writedown all of the what ifs as it was reality for your character. Maybe in this fictional life, you two have your happy ending.

Your writing process was interrupted by your bestie phone call that you, of course, picked up. “Hey” you could hear the kids scream as if you were there.

“Are you coming to pick the kids up?” she asked, remembering you, you promised her to take them to have ice cream and for a walk. You facepalm. You forgot about it.

“Oh sorry, A. Yeah,of course. I’ll pick them up in 30 minutes. I’m sorry, i forgot” you apologised starting to walk towards your bedroom to get change. You still have your pajamas on.

“It’s okay y/n. I knew you would probably forget that’s why I called. They will be ready when you get here. Thank you, i love you” you said i love you back and ended the call.

You chose to wear a tracksuit, trainers and a coat. It was really cold this year in particular. But you loved it. You weren’t a fan of summer that much. You preferred snow and hot chocolate. Cuddling in bed to keep yourself warm. And playing cards near the chimney. You Loved autumn and winter, it made you feel special.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

So today was the day, the day he probably would become officially single. Charles really hated the divorce process. It was a very painful one. He had, once again, broken another woman’s heart. He wasn't proud of it but he really wanted to do things the right way from now on. No more bullshit. No more feeling guilty of the past, tied to it as if he had to pay for everything. So 6 months ago he communicated it to Alex, it was really heavy on the heart scene. He felt like an actual monster. However, he started therapy. He was starting to understand himself more and learning to forgive himself for every decision he took that maybe wasn’t the best, but he didn't know better. He was young and about to become one of the most successful drivers in formula one. He thought he knew what he was doing to then realize he actually didn't at all.

He started his day journaling. He tried to write something but all he could do was drawing your face. That image he couldn't stop seeing every time he closed his eyes. He felt scared about it but he let himself follow along. It was best to try to take you out of his mind in some way. Then after breakfast he decided to play some piano and record new parts of a new piece he was working on. He sent it to his producer and drove to Carlos' house to have lunch together. Lando was also there. They all chatted and enjoyed barbeque at Carlos’ beach house.

And at that moment, talking in the living room, something changed.

“Yeah, I don't know. I think she is a writer. I always see her on the balcony surrounded by multiple sheets of papers and a computer. Or maybe she is a translator or something I don't know but she is cute, you know? Maybe you can hit on her lando " Carlos commented while serving more wine to their cups.

“Do you follow her on instagram or something?” Lando asked for further information, apparently interested. Charles was zooming out thinking about you.

“Oh no I don't, I don't even know her name but” Carlos opened his window curtains “yup, there she is” Carlos pointed to the balcony that was visible from there. Lando patted Charles' arm so the three of them could see through the window hoping the woman wouldn't notice them.

“Oh my god” Charles almost fainted when he saw you there in your sherk pajamas drinking from an avengers cup (you didn't change that, though. You still are a geek for movies, superheroes, comics and books he guessed). Your balcony was quite close, the view was 4k. The guys who looked at Charles getting whiter, felt weirded out about his reaction.

“All right mate? I don't think she is that ugly, you know? I mean, she is fine as hell if you ask me and I'm not that into red hair” Lando said, checking on charles.

“Yeah, maybe she is too beautiful… now that he’s officially single” Carlos added.

Charles shook his head going back to the sofa.

“It’s y/N, carlos. y/n it’s your fucking neighbor. She was there all this time and i didnt fucking know. I don't know how I never bumped into her " Charles spitted with so much mixed feeling. Lando and Carlos looked at each other. Carlos closed the curtains before sitting along them.

“Mate, i didn't have a clue she could be y/N to be honest. I’ve never met her, "Carlos explained himself.

“Wait, who’s y/N? And why is she neighbors with you?” Lando was confused. For a moment he thought they were joking but Charles looked affected. He missed a part of Charles' story or something. The only woman he met was alexandra and she is officially out of his life.

“It’s his ex, like the one” Carlos explained to him but then Lando was even more confused. Charles noticed and with a sigh he explained the situation better in his opinion.

“y/n was my girlfriend during my f2 days. I left her for Alex but since that moment I regret it. It was like 10 years ago. "Lando's face expressed understanding with his mouth showing an ‘o’.

“So I guess I can't date her now, right?” Lando said, receiving a correcting punch on his arm by carlos. “Alright, alright”

“I need to go guys, i got stuff to do” Charles said after a long silence and stood up ready to go. He Couldn't stay longer. He needed to breathe some air. He was scared. He actually hated feeling like that. Scared of what? Of her? Of himself? Of the truth? The truth that maybe he did indeed waste all of these years pretending to like his life when all he wanted to do was go back to her? Maybe. But the truth was too heavy to admit and process.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You were out with your nephews. It was a saturday afternoon, cold but the sun was shining bright. Between giggles you were walking with them to their favorite ice cream shop.

Unfortunately, it was LEC ice cream.

Benjamin and Renato were four years old, they were twins. And then there was Dante who was 6 years old. They were messy but today was a good day, they were chilling. They ran inside the ice cream shop all excited followed by you. You closed the door and they were already on the counter talking with the cashier. You smiled shyly.

“good afternoon” you greeted her and she smiled back at you.

“Auntie, I want the chocolate one! It is always so yummy!” said Benjamin, excitedly grabbing your coat and pulling from it in desperation. He did a few little excited jumps as his twin.

“No! Benjamin! I want the chocolate one!” Renato got mad at his brother. Their voices were so cute they made you giggle a bit.

“It's alright boys, you both can get the chocolate one” you said, mediating between the siblings smiling at the cashier. She noted and went to look for them. “Dante, darling, which one do you want?” He was the shyest out of them all. He was so like your best friend, polite and collected. He looked at the flavour list on the wall.

“I want the vanilla one, please” he talked directly to the cashier making you smile proudly.

“That’s my boy,” you said, congratulating him. Seeing him smile filled your heart full. You loved those three kids with your whole heart. You always get so emotional realising how fast they are growing.

“Alright, gentlemen, here are your ice creams” the cashier said warmly and rounded the counter to give the ice cream to each one of them. You smiled watching the scene. They got shy but grabbed their ice creams anyway.

“What do you say boys?” you looked at them gently.

“Thank you very much” they said in unison, making the cashier smile widely. “go seat” you told them and they obeyed you. You got close to the cashier now in her seat on the counter. “How much is it?” you asked but before she could answer you, a voice, that fucking voice, interrupted.

“It’s on the house” you wanted to believe it was a dream and that it wasn’t real. But it was. It was charles. You turned to look at him a bit confused about the whole situation. He smiled at you again, the same way he did at the restaurant. You tried to play it cool, but you knew your smile and attitude were weird.

“Oh, thank you. It wasn’t necessary” you said politely and he shook his head.

“No problem, for real” he said and you half smiled in return.

“Thank you” you say for both of them and went to sit with your boys at the sofa table they chose. You just didn't want to look at him that much nor you didn't know what to say. “Hey” you greeted them, and took some napkins from the table and cleaned the twins' faces full of chocolate. you smiled funny. Dante got closer to you while you were helping Benjamin clean his hands.

“Auntie, is that the driver dad is a fan of?” he asked shyly close to you and really low so only you could hear him.

“I think it is darling, would you like a picture with him?” you offer sweetly. He nods, smiling brightly. That made your heart race because you now have to talk to charles. You could hear him talking to his employees in a relaxed way. You could hear he came just to check in.

You licked your lips nervously “i'll be right back, okay?” you tell the kids and stand up to walk right back to the counter. Your heart was racing. “Um, excuse me” you tried to capture his attention, and for sure you did. He looked at you immediately. His eyes found yours and you felt your heart skip a beat for a moment. “Sorry, but one of my nephews recognized you and I wanted to ask you if you could take a picture with him? Don't mean to bother you, of course,” you finally said. And you saw his face light up instantly. You were pretending you didn't know each other. You just played along without even mentioning it. You swallowed hard half smiling.

“Of course, no problem,” he said sweetly.

“Thank you” you said to him before getting to the kids.

“It's fine,” he assured you.

You called Dante to come over and he came all shy. “Hey champ, is it good?” Charles was squatting to be on Dante's height. He talked really sweet to him. Dante stuck to you, intimidated to have that awesome driver his dad loved so much. He nodded looking at him. “You wanna take a picture? I’ll be really happy to have one with you” he said sweetly so Dante would loosen himself. He looked at me for aprovation. You just smiled and nodded at him excitedly. Dante then relaxed, nodding towards Charles in a huge smile. He gave him a hug and charles’ heart melted between the kid’s arms.

They posed together and you took as many pictures as you could. And after cleaning Benjamin and Renato`s faces again, they also posed with charles. They started yapping with him and imitating car noises. They made you laugh for a bit.

They got so excited, they gave Charles so many hugs. You played along so they can have a great moment to remember someday. You recorded some videos to send to your best friend agostina later, so she can have the memories. “My daddy loves you! He always screams to the tv ‘GOOO CHARLES GOOOO’ ” Dante commented imitating his dad in the funniest way making you laugh. “But he doesn't like Carlos that much, he prefers hamilton!”

“Oh wow, you are an expert in formula 1. Who’s your daddy?” Charles really engaged with your nephews. He even sat next to you so he could have a conversation with them. He got confused for a bit, he believed they were your children. But it didn't seem like that.

“My dad is andrew and my mom is agostina, and she is auntie y/N” dante explained to charles the whole family dynamic in his way. You smiled nodding looking at Dante, then moved to see charles. He now understood the whole thing. You were their aunt. His heart melted for a moment. He didn't know what to say.

Benjamin asked you to grab him and you did. You sat him on your tights, and he was sleepy. You stroke his thin shiny hair gently as he pressed his head on your chest wanting to fall asleep.

Charles looked at you with a half smile.

“I think it’s time to go home kids, mommy is waiting for you. It’s pizza night!” you told them funny and excited so they would get excited. Dante celebrated along with Renato doing a victory dance making you and Charles let out a laugh.

“Let me give you a ride, that baby wants to sleep,” Charles offered sweetly, looking at Benjamin in your chest. He was trying to play it cool but his heart was speeding faster than his car in any race. Looking at you like this, made him regret every single decision of his life. How could he leave you like that? He wanted to punch himself on the face because he was sure you hated him. So it was impossible to get a second chance nor that he believed he deserved it.

You doubted but he got a point. Walking ten blocks with a baby or two in your arms was not gonna be an easy task and your back will suffer a lot. You sighed. “Alright, thank you. It’s really nice of you” you gave in at his offer and he smiled widely.

“Alright, let’s go home guys” Charles announced. The cashier was even more confused than the two of you were. Since when did Charles Leclerc engage so much with strangers and offer them a lift? They must not be strangers at all. They must know each other all too well.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Charles helped you get the kids in the car, or well, his Ferrari that was parked one block away. Dante, all excited, wanted to touch every single thing the car had so you had to tell him to calm down and behave for a bit. You got in the passenger seat.

Charles let you use his phone so you put your friend's address on it. He now knew where you lived and he was thinking of offering to drop you there after leaving the kids but at the same time he didn't want to be so invasive.

Smelling your perfume was sending him on a spiral. You still had that effect on him. And he didn't know how to feel about it. You didn't look at him. You probably hate him, he thought. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. But then why did you let this happen? Because of the kids? It was ten blocks away. He stopped himself from keeping up his delusions for way too long he would believe them. He felt like a kid about this whole thing with you. Or the one you had. The life you had. You made him and his family so happy. Arthur still likes you, you always had a soft spot on his heart. And that made Charles feel miserable.

The drive was silent. The kids fell asleep in like three blocks. You were so nervous you would throw up right then and there. You just looked out through the window. You didn't want to talk that much with him. You knew that would be dangerous.

He knew it too. He knew all too well what you were trying to do and in a way he was thankful for it. But in another way, he just wanted to know everything about you, again.

A million questions were playing again and again in your heads silently but agonizingly at the same time.

Ten minutes later, you were finally on your destination: your best friend’s, agostina, house. She was waiting at the porch of her house. When she saw the black ferrari stop by her sidewalk she frowned. She thought you were coming on foot with her three children.

You looked at charles in a half smile, just praying your friend doesn't get mad at you for this insane idea. “Thank you for lifting us” you said shortly and he nodded. It was awkward.

“Let me help you” Charles said and both of you got out of his car.

When your friend first saw you, she looked confused, with a million question marks in her eyes. But then, when she saw Charles coming off the driving seat, her eyes almost fell out. I mean, she was relieved that it was him at some point but not so much out of concern for you.

“Hey, A” Charles greeted her with a wave helping you wake the kids up. He remembers your friend, of course. He remembered everything about you.

“Hey, charles. It’s been a long time” A said, grabbing Benjamin from your arms. Charles helped Dante and you grabbed Renato in your arms. Both baby twins were knocked out sleeping. Dante grabbed his mum's hand and waved to Charles in a goodbye. He closed his Ferrari door and waved to us. You just smiled. You were in the most uncomfortable situation of your life. You didn't have a good feeling about this.

You felt it was the beginning of the end, for some odd reason you couldn't identify yet.

“Bye charles!” Dante said happily and was still a bit sleepy. Agostina smiled at him but when she turned to look at you, her eyes were screaming “ARE YOU CRAZY GIRL?” and how could you blame her for it. You just put her kids into the car of a known stranger.

Charles observed the situation with you and your friend from his car. The sunset sun made you glow. And your eyes were so shiny he got confused for a bit if he was actually dreaming. He made his horn sound and disappeared into the monaco streets pretty fast.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Cozy wrapped around blankets and pillows, your friend brought you a cup of hot chocolate. You decided it was to sleep overnight to gossip because Andrew, her husband, was out of town for work. The kids were sleeping in their rooms. The baby monitor in front of you two. You were laying on the living room couch with ambient music in the background playing from the tv above the chimney.

“I can't believe you bumped into Charles, to be honest. It's been ten years, you have never seen him and out of nowhere you see him everywhere” your friend was as surprised as you were.

“Yeah, I don't know. I feel really weird about it. I thought next time i would bump into him i would be dead but i’m still alive so far. He felt so different… Yet he felt the same. His perfume was the same. His eyes are the same, the way they shine and…” you sighed stopping yourself. You started crying. You didn't know what you were feeling. If you were supposed to feel happy or angry or sad. The stress level was at its peak. It was too much emotionally to handle.

It hurts you to pretend you didn't know him, that you didn't want him or that he was once your everything and now he was a stranger. A stranger holding so many secrets of you. All of your life traumas and experiences, your virginity, your first ever love story (and the only one). It still hurts because it couldn't be easier. Why couldn't it be forever together as you dreamed? When you saw him you felt the same as that last day you watched him leave that motherfucking restaurant.

Your friend hugged you understanding how hard this was for you. And how frustrating it must feel to finally be ready to move on and then he is back just like that. How unfair life could be, right? She felt so sorry for you. You deserved to be so happy yet here we are, still crying for that ficking stupid asshole.

It felt like the beginning of the end.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“Hey, Arthur, I'm officially and legally single again. Want to have dinner at my place?” Charles called his brother on his Ferrari the second he sat in the driver’s seat. He needed to talk to someone about what happened this afternoon. His anxiety had made a hole in his stomach and he almost threw up a couple of times.

He felt guilty. Like he did something terrible lifting you and your nephews to your friend’s house.

“Bro!!! That’s amazing!! Ready to enjoy life? I’ll be there in 30 minutes, and order some steak. I’ll bring wine. Love you!!” he shouted into the phone making Charles put it a little far away from his ear so he won't be left deaf. He ended the call, so Charles couldn't say otherwise. He giggled a little to himself. He loved his family, but especially Arthur, he was his little brother, and also his best friend.

After a few minutes, he was already wearing his comfy clothes and had ordered the stake his brother told him to. He had set the table and put some random playlist on spotify on shuffle. Now that he was home, the hole in his stomach was not as huge as it was during the day. His house was his safe place. Though, it still felt weird not having leo (his and alex’s puppy son) or alex around. He tried so hard to love her, he got used to having her around. The chemicals on his brain were adjusting still to his new life. He changed furniture and redecorated the whole house. He wanted to start again from zero. Rebuilt himself step by step and finally, the Charles he always wanted to be.

The bell took him out of his thoughts announcing his brother had arrived.

“Hey, Brody,” Arthur said excitedly, hugging his brother when the older one opened the door. Arthur was really proud of his brother. He knew how hard all of it was. And how hard he was with himself when it came to mistakes committed in the past.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

They sat on the couch in front of the tv with everything already tidy up and with their stomachs full. They talked about everything and anything but yet not about her.

“I brought you something, wait a second” Arthur said and got up looking for his bed. Charles observed his brother a little tipsy by wine already. He didn't know what to expect from him. He was always a surprise box. “I know you saw her again, I don't know how you feel about it but I know we will eventually talk about her. But I think it will help you if you read her book. I think it’s a fictional story but the way she tells it… i think it can make you reflect on what happened.” he added coming back from his bag with a book in hand. After he sat again on the couch he handed it to charles. Charles listened and watched the book in front of him. He took it carefully.

“I saw her today, she was with her nephews. I also know where she lives now as well. It was at carlos’ house and he was talking about his neighbor being attractive so Lando could try and hit on her. So he opened the fucking curtains and there she was on her balcony. I almost choked and died. Then I saw her at LEC. and I gave her a lift to her friend’s house. "Charles started throwing up everything that happened that day. Arthur’s eyes were big as plates. He couldn't understand how his brother survived o all of that. I mean, he was happy. He loved y/n, but he knew damn too well it was probably a nightmare for his brother to go through all of that.

“Oh my god, charles. And you also were announced to be single legally? How did you survive? I'm impressed. You’re strong dude” arthur commented half joking half serious. Charles laughed it out a bit shaking his head.

“I don't know but all I know is that my heart almost stopped how fast it was beating,” Charles answered.

“That’s called anxiety,” Arthur pointed out.

“I know. I was scared. She looked even more beautiful than she ever did or that I remember” he grabbed the book in his hands more strongly. He took a deep breath. “Today was too much for me,” his brother agreed.

After Arthur was gone, Charles sprinted to his bed. He had a headache. He wanted to pretend it was because of the two bottles of wine they drank. But he knew it was because of overthinking. He laid in bed. Book in his hands. He started analyzing the cover: It was light blue, her favorite color he remembered. A red scarf and autumn leaves falling down. Her name is printed on the corner of it. He brushed his thumb above it taking a moment.

Adjusting his glasses he flipped to the back cover of it and that’s where something changed inside him.

‘Just between us, did the love affair maim you too?’

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

chapter three: coming soon.

tag list: @a-beaverhausen , @priniya , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136

shout out: thank you to my girlies from the gc (ur the best i<3u all), specially Sonny for hyping and helping me sm with this!

author's note: here it is <3 i'm so excited about this series! Sorry if you don’t see that much French I know NOTHING of it so yeah :(

what do you think it's gonna happen next?

don't forget to like, reblog or comment! and follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

261 notes · View notes