#let her go. i've moved on so long ago but for some reason i just haven't been able to fully let her go so i've held onto these little things

[cactusdodes]

.

[sunraies]

Rafe x Sleepy! Reader where he freaks out that she’s not answering her Phone and thinks The worst scenario that she’s sick of him, cheating etc. But It gets better when she calls him while he’s with The boys and she’s in her pj’s telling him she just woke up and asking what happened that made him call so many times ��

Sleepy baby

As requested above

Warnings - insecurities, toxic thoughts, drug use, drinking, and mentions of sex. Ending fluff.

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16 hours ago, you posted to your insta story. 16 hours since you'd been laughing, smiling, singing, and dancing into the camera. Music pumping and disco lights blazing as you partied into the night.

You looked so happy, surrounded by your college friends. Some he knew, and some he didn't. He wished he could have been there with you. Long distance was slowly killing him, he was sure of it.

Although he'd been uneasy about you going so far away, things had been working out. He visited as often as he could, and you came home for the holidays. But it was moments like this when he started to doubt it all. His mind would spiral.

At first, he thought there was a reasonable explanation for you not texting him when you made it home and for not responding to his messages. You were probably to tired and drunk, simply forgotten.

But as the hours ticked by and multiple messages and phone calls later, his mind began to wander to darker places. You didn't need him anymore. You had finally realised it. You had found someone else. Someone else had found you.

You were a college student, you didn't need some hometown boyfriend dragging you down, you had finally decided to live your best life. Without him. Party, sex and drugs.

Well, two could play at that game. The moment Topper had told him about a party happening, he immediately said he would go. Fuck it, he was still the Kook King, he knew how to party, how to have any person he wanted.

The problem was that you were the only person he wanted. After a few drinks, he found himself where he normally ended up at parties. Sat with his boys, Topper, Kelce, and Barry, nursing a beer, smoking a blunt, doing a few lines, and glazing into the fire pit as the sky of endless stars shone above them.

"Bro, that's like the billionth time you checked your phone." Topper pointed out as Rafe pulled his phone out of his shorts pocket again.

"What's up, Little Miss Havard ghosting you?" Barry teased as he through arm an over Rafe's shoulders.

"Fuck off" Rafe tried to shake his arm off before sighing as looked at his phone again.

All that stared back at him was you as his lock screen and a couple of notifications, but none from you.

"Oh, shit. You really think she is?" Barry's smirk dropped, suddenly noticing his friend genuinely down about something.

"She's probably just busy," Kelce tried to reassure him. "You know with essays and shit. I mean, I have a shit ton, and that's just online"

Out of everyone in their little friend circle, you were the only one who moved the furthest away. Topper was on a gap year, Kelce was doing online courses, Barry was dealing, and Rafe had to follow in Ward's footsteps. A few of your friends did gap years.

Rafe nodded slowly. "What if, what if she's do -" He didn't finish his sentence as his phone screen suddenly lit up. 'FACETIME - Baby 😍 💍'

He nearly dropped his phone in the panic of answering it. For a spilt second, he thought about letting it ring out of spite. You'd not answered any of his. But he couldn't do it, for all the spiralling his mind had been doing. He needed to talk to you.

"Rafe, hey, you ok?" You looked so sleepy as you rubbed your eye. "I'm so sorry, I've been asleep all day"

If he could have jumped into the screen and kissed you in that moment, he would have. You looked so adorable, hair in a mess, no makeup, clearly sat in your dorm room bed as he recognised the bed sheets and the tapestry on the wall behind you.

What made his heart warm the most was that you were in one of his t-shirts. One of many you had borrowed/stolen.

He knew he was smiling at his screen like a complete goof. But he didn't care.

"Where are you?" You asked, trying to work out the noises around him and odd lighting of the fire pit. "Why did you call so much? Everything ok?" You asked, concerned.

"Everything's good, baby," He smiled. "Just at a party with the boys." He turned the phone around to show them

"God, Rafe, no don-" Too late, there you was in all you sleepiness. Proudly held up on his phone screen.

"Mrs Country Club!" Barry greeted as the others said "yo" and "hey"

You awkwardly waved and smiled as your cheeks burned before Rafe turned the phone back him.

"Well, I better not keep you from the party. As long as everything is ok?" You could tell something wasn't quite right, but didn't push it. He'd tell you in his own time. He always did.

"Everything is fine, my sleepy baby." He smiled, not giving a shit if the others heard.

"Alright, see you this weekend? Facetime tomorrow?" You smiled as he nodded before saying I love yous.

"Aww, my sleepy baby. Sleepy bab-" Barry teased before Rafe pushed him. Causing his chair to topple backwards onto the grass. Making everyone who witnessed laugh.

He glanced at his phone one last time, seeing you smiling face on his lock screen and new message 'Baby 😍💍 - I really do love you ❤️😘'

[mossyivy]

how about a desperate almost ex-husband leon being extremely needy and trying to get his wife back not to divorce him

Anon, idk who you are but you better become a regular if these are the ideas you throw into my ask box. I took liberty in picking which Leon would best fit and I just... It's Vendetta. I'm sorry, wet street rat Leon just stinks of desperation and in need of attention.

Also I am so sorry this took ages to get to you. I've been on break and was going through it. Hopefully it was worth the wait 🤍

Slight NSFW/Alluding to Sex

Not edited/Proof Read

"Please baby, I miss you..." You listen to the last few garbled words from the old voicemail. You hadn't seen or heard from him in a month. No calls, texts, letters or even the occasional flowers or muffin basket he'd have delivered to your office.

You know you shouldn't miss him. The divorce was for a good reason. Or at least it was supposed to be. You still loved him, he still loved you, but his absence was getting to you. You knew who you were marrying, a government agent who wasn't home as often as he wanted to be. You were left to your own devices often. Left with friends. Friends who talked. Talked about how neglectful he seemed to be. You defended him with your life, knowing the good man he was and still is. They picked him apart in secret, threw his flaws out for display like some kind of rotting carcass you'd see on the side of the road.

But eventually they got into your head about deserving better. So, against all the arguing or begging on his end you asked for a divorce and filed. That was a few months ago. He's not even officially moved out of the apartment you two share yet but you're adamant on being separated.

He on the other hand is trying to hold on for as long as possible. At least you thought he was. He left for work over a month ago and you knew he was back. No state marshall or sheriff showed up to tell you he died.

Maybe he was trying to respect your distance and keep away finally. But then Jill sent you the E-vite...

One of the worst parts of divorcing Leon was you having the same friends. You were both civil. No one took anyone's side so you'd both be invited places, even after the separation. You take in a deep breath, knowing he'd definitely be at this dinner party. It was going to be a struggle but you're a big girl. You can handle anything.

Sucking it up, you step out of your car, fixing your dress in place as you look up at the condominium. Seeing the lights on the shared rooftop space gleaming against the dusk sky. It didn't take long for you to push the door open at the top of the stairs seeing everyone dressed in semi-formal attire. Long puffy sleeves swaying as you pull at the gold locket hanging above the sweetheart neckline. The end of you dress puffing out and brushing lightly against your opaque black pantyhose covered knees. Heels clicking against the concrete of the roof as someone calls out to you.

"Hey! Glad you could make it." Claire, one of the hosts, walks out a small group of people in her dark pink dress. She wraps you in a tight hug looking you up and down.

"Thanks for inviting me!" You look around the crowds of people trying to decipher who's here.

"Last time I saw him was with Chris like half an hour ago. He showed up early." Claire knew who you were looking for. You give her an appreciative nod and tell her you'll be doing your rounds to be polite.

After grabbing a glass of wine you start making your rounds. Feet starting to hurt from your heels, they always killed your ankles. Stepping to the side you bump into another guest and spill red wine on yourself. Turning you see Rebecca with her mouth open, shocked expression on her face, clutching the front of her green dress.

"I'm so sorry," she frantically steps over, examining the blotch of dark red on your dress, "Jill and Claire probably have soda water at their place. Why don't you go ask?"

You quickly find Claire, desperate to not let this stain stick.

"Just head down to the condo. Jill's down there babysitting dinner. It should be done soon actually." You nod, heading down to the condo quickly. Knocking on the door you hear loud footsteps coming towards the door. The door swings open, Chris looking down at you in his charcoal gray suit.

"Oh hey. You finally showed." You smirk, smacking his shoulder before going in for a tight hug. Squeezing you in his arms he lifts you, pulling you through the threshold of the condo. The door shuts as he walks towards the kitchen, setting you down in the doorway. Jill turning her head from the stove. Wearing a dark blue pantsuit.

"Hey!" Dropping the wooden spoon onto the stove she walks over, hugging you tightly. She looks down at your dress noticing the wine spot. "Oh God. It looks like you were shot."

"Red wine and Rebecca."

"Ah. Let me get you something for that."

Jill starts searching the cabinets as Chris leans against the kitchen island, arms crossed over his chest.

"How've you been with... Everything?" Chris grabs his beer off the counter, taking a leisurely sip. Watching Jill out of the corner of his eye.

"I can't complain."

"Yeah you can. You're getting a divorce. Can't be easy."

"Chris." Jill shoots him a nasty glare, standing up straight with a bottle of soda water and a cloth.

"What!? I can't be blunt with her now?" Jill sighs, sliding the stuff across the island to you, watching you grab them.

"You can use the guest bathroom. Our main one is being worked on. It's down the hall to the right. Dinners done so just head upstairs when you're ready."

"Thanks." You nod, walking past them both and down the hall and into the guest room. You don't flick the light on, walking through the moonlight cover room to the door and push your way in. Starting to work on the stain on your dress after. Blotting the wine out slowly, taking your time to draw it out. Working the wine out you look at yourself in the mirror.

Tired eyes covered by concealing makeup and a fake sense of happiness. You really haven't slept well in weeks, since the filing. It was weird going back home alone. A knock startles you out of your staring. You quickly access the damage, deeming your work satisfactory enough. Opening the door you're met with dark circles under icy blue eyes. Stubble surrounding plump rosy lips as he gasps.

Now face to face with your soon-to-be ex-husband.

"Hey..."

"Hey." You two stare at each other for a moment, no one knowing what to say exactly. So you start cleaning up and rinsing the rag.

"I'll be out of your way in a second."

"Take your time." He assures, putting a hand on your lower back as he passes you and steps to the towel cabinet, sliding one of the drawers open and looking for something. You continue to rinse the rag, watching him in your peripherals as he searches. Wearing his old dark blue suit and a white button up open enough to show off his collar bones.

The silence is so awkward you could feel your toes curling in your heels.

"You look good." He speaks looking at you, you shut the sink off looking in his direction with a small smile.

"Thank you." you look him up and down. Taking in the appearance of him being dressed up for once. You always liked him cleaned up. "You look like a nightclub owner."

He chuckles, smiling as he grabs a box of bandaids from the drawer, shutting it with his hip as he starts reaching inside the box.

"You hurt yourself?" The old tinge of worry hits you as he starts walking towards you, presumably leaving.

"Just a little cut. Tried to catch a knife and it didn't work out." He shows his left palm, a cut along the side of his thumb, still bleeding.

"Jesus Lee..." You turn the sink back on and make him shove his hand under the cold water to slow the bleeding. You start washing the blotch of blood already dried on his palm as he just lets you. You're delicate hands scrubbing the shell shaped soap across his paler palm compared to the slight tan of his skin. You feel his right arm move and slide around you, hand on your waist like it's still so natural as he fixes to your side.

You stare at his hand, watching the bleeding slow as you rinse his palm. But you finally notice he's wearing his wedding ring still. The black band that matches yours sitting at home in your jewelry box, collecting dust when it could be getting pawned like your friends suggested. But you've grown attached to it, even if it is a constant reminder of what was. You shake the feeling, turning the faucet off and grabbing the hand towel to dry the area.

"You know, I can do this myself right?" You look up at your reflections in the mirror, it's almost like he's watching you over your shoulder with how close he is. His eyes watching your every action so lovingly. It makes you smile and forget that you shouldn't be feeling butterflies in your stomach right now.

"You never do it right." You tease, feeling his chest press against your shoulder and back. Notes of citrus and buttery sandalwood touch your nose. Making his noticeable lean over your shoulder almost forgiveable as you apply the bandage on his hand. You feel his nose brush against your ear as you throw the wrappers in the tiny trashcan next to the sink.

"Leon... No." His hand squeezed gently as it moves down to your hip, he takes a slow breath in. Letting the scent of your perfume and shampoo fill his senses completely.

"I miss you..." His voice is so soft, his breath against your ear makes a bolt of electricity shoot up your spine and your skin tingle. Goosebumps forming over your arms as you side step away from him. Looking at him again, his eyes look filled with desperation as he tries closing the gap again.

"I've been thinking about you nonstop for the past month." You paw at the bathroom doorknob, opening the door and slipping into the guest bedroom. He quickly follows you into the dim lighting.

"I'm seeing a therapist now." You glance at him, turning away as you try making a break for it.

"Good for you." You misjudge your step and smack your foot against the table next to the door, twisting your ankle in the process. Immediately, you hunch over to grab your ankle and whine in pain.

"Baby..." He leans down looking at your ankle as it starts to swell already. "Come here."

Quickly you're lifted off your feet and being carried over to the bed, reminiscent of your wedding night. Leon sits, putting your legs over his lap.

"You know these heels are bad on your ankles." His hands slight over your heel, pushing the offender off your foot and doing the same to the next. His fingers glide over your ankle making you wince and whimper. "I'm sorry... I can't really see it well with the..."

His fingers pinch against your pantyhose and pull it gently. Looking at you as if asking for permission. His hands glide up your legs, looking at you. Giving a small nods his hands go up your thighs, pulling at the waist and down your legs. Dropping them with your heels. His hands linger on your bare thighs as he stares. Gripping with the tenderness you'd forgotten about, a small huff leaves his lips before you clear your throat.

"Leon..." He snaps back to reality looking at your ankle and rubbing it. You complain again, feeling your heart beat in you leg.

"Good news, it doesn't look broken."

"No shit." He smirks looking back at you, lips turning into a sincere smile as his brows drop.

"Still as snarky as ever..." It's your turn to stare now, watching his hands wander back up your legs and wrap around your knees. Pulling you closer and wrinkle the sheets below you.

"Who would I be without my smart ass mouth?" His eyes drift halfway closed, his body almost completely pressed against your chest with his own. His arm slides around your waist with practiced ease.

"Not my wife." His words flow so naturally. Like no time has past since the separation. Being this close doesn't feel nearly as awkward as you expected it to be. His hands are as gentle as the look he's giving you. That same puppy dog stare only you seem to yank out of the rough and tough exterior.

It makes you crack a smile... A smile you definitely shouldn't be showing so easily.

"I miss you." His voice is soft again, leaning closer into you, cupping your cheek with a callused hand. "Do you miss me?"

"Yes." The answer rolls off your tongue without a second thought. The corners of his lips turning higher, smiling brighter then you've seen in a while. He doesn't waste any time pulling you into his lap, smothering you in his embrace and pulling you into a heated and hungry kiss.

Hands traveling into every available spot on your body. Finally finding his way under the skirt of your dress and pulling your hips taut against his growing desire.

"Lee... We can't right now, they're expecting us upstairs for dinner." His lips meet your neck, kissing across your pulse and to your ear. Hands gliding over your skin as he pulls back from your neck.

"Why would I go do that when I got my favorite meal right here?" You laugh, the noise sounding like music to his ears all over again. Eyes turning to that loving stare, laying you down against the plush sheets and linens.

"Plus, you hurt your ankle. You need bed rest... And maybe I could give you a real reason to limp."

[taesanrot]

[heavy] sunghoon x f!reader | 2.1k words exes to lovers, second chance, angst syn. ever since you broke up with your long term boyfriend, park sunghoon, he's been heavy on your mind. foolishly, you try to move on, but seeing him at a party reminds you why you can't let him go. note. i've been wanting to start a series based on songs i've been listening to recently! this is the second and hopefully not last fic in this collection lol. also this was kinda supposed to be a implied college au but im now realizing the setting is kinda vague so imagine it as you like :)

now playing: heavy by the marías

"cause i don't wanna be in love with another, even in another life."

sipping your drink, you wished so dearly to drown out the memories that played in your head like a broken record.

you were fine. everything was fine. you told yourself what you told everyone.

you were done with park sunghoon. it was for the better.

but even the loud drunken screams from your friends and the even louder music at this party couldn't make the words in your head stop playing over and over. you closed your eyes and tilted your face to the ceiling.

...

"let's go our separate ways." your emotionless voice contrasted with your tear streaked cheeks.

"y/n, what? what do you mean?" sunghoon's voice shook with confusion.

"i mean, let's break up."

"break up? baby i'm not breaking up with you over this." he stepped forward to grab your hand but you just crossed them in front of your chest.

"i'm tired of fighting! we're clearly not right for each other." your voice almost broke at the end, making sunghoon want to cry.

"couples fight all the time, you know we've both been really stressed lately, let's talk about this another time. when we're both feeling better." he tried and tried to reason with you, but your mind was set, and both of you knew that.

...

you felt stupid, then and now. it had been one month since you'd last seen your ex boyfriend, and you were a wreck. foolishly, you'd blamed everything going wrong on him, thinking that getting rid of your relationship would alleviate your stress. but sunghoon left a gaping hole in you, and suddenly it was like you were frozen.

the pain was unbearable, bu you were stubborn. you kept your head up, moving through night and day. you were a shell of yourself, but you were still standing.

you began to go out, your friends dragging you out of your apartment in an effort to cheer you up.

you tried and tried to move on. but talking to other guys made you feel sick. they didn't have his fluffy hair, his cute and pointy smile, or his pretty voice.

tonight was the same, you nursed a drink in your arms as you tried to forget everything.

"what are you thinking about, pretty?" you opened your eyes, nearly dropping your drink in shock as you turned towards the voice. you were face to face with a taller boy. he had dark hair and even darker eyes.

"nothing." you weren't going to get into your ex with a random guy at a party.

"i'm jisung, by the way." you smiled slightly as he introduced himself, trying to be polite. he seemed sweet enough, but you wished you were doing anything but talking to a flirty guy right now.

"i'm y/n." you replied, struggling to maintain your sanity and composure with the alcohol flowing in your veins. you kept up conversation for a bit longer, making an excuse that your friend was sick so you could finally make your escape.

finding your best friend, yunah, you tapped her shoulder to get her attention away from the music.

"y/n? what's up?" she grabbed your hand as she spoke, swinging it back and forth drunkenly. you smiled, gesturing to the back door.

"gonna go sit outside, need some air." she nodded and waved as you walked away.

what neither of you saw was sunghoon. he'd arrived not more than 15 minutes ago, with his friends jake and heeseung.

"dude, is that who i think it is?" jake blurted the moment they walked through the door. the 3 boys watched you talk to some taller guy with dark blue hair. sunghoon wished he didn't care, but truthfully he couldn't look away.

you were beautiful, wrapped in a black dress. you always looked angelic to him, always making his stomach burst with butterflies.

looking at you right now, his stomach was burning with a different emotion. he was green with envy watching another guy flirt with you when you should've been with him. the only thing that quelled his dread was the look on your face. he could see from miles away how uncomfortable you were, arms crossed tensely and face painted with a fake smile, one that didn't reach your eyes.

sunghoon wanted to be a respectful ex-boyfriend. he didn't contact you. he gave you your space after your breakup, even though he knew how stupid your fight was. he loved you, enough to respect what you wanted.

but watching you duck away from the blue haired boy and walk out the back door, sunghoon couldn't stop himself. he downed the rest of his drink, wincing at the burning feeling his throat before pushing through the crowd to get to the back door.

the night air soothed the growing dread within you a bit, but you were still left with a nauseating feeling. the same one you always felt when you talked to guys that weren't him.

slumping against the fence, you held your head in your hands, combing your fingers through your hair roughly. dizzily, you crouched on the ground, wishing you could just disappear. or even better, teleport to your bed.

“y/n?” your reaction was delayed as you slowly searched for the source of the voice.

in all his glory, park sunghoon stood before you, looking down at your crouched figure with concern.

“god, sunghoon. what are you doing here?” you groaned, sincerely wishing you were just hallucinating all of this. wishing that the first time you were seeing your ex boyfriend since the breakup wasn’t when you were a drunken mess.

god, today was seriously the worst.

crouching next to you, he reached out a hand to move some of your hair from your face. he leaned in front of you so he could see your face, while you stubbornly trained your eyes at the ground.

you were scared that if you even made eye contact with him for too long, everything would fall apart.

“are you okay? how much did you drink?” he spoke softly, his voice melting in your ears and warming your chest.

you wanted to cry, throat tightening at the feeling of him doting on you. you didn’t say anything, just nodding.

sunghoon could tell you didn’t want to be there just as much as he didn’t. normally, on a night like this, the two of you would be watching a movie together or baking or just laying in his bed and scrolling through one of your phones.

“do you wanna leave?” he asked, hand falling onto your shoulder and rubbing small circles. you nodded again, pushing your hands on the ground to stand up. you didn’t let sunghoon help you as he stood up, stumbling slightly as you stood up fully.

as the two of your walked out the back entrance, you looked at the boy in confusion as he began walking in the same direction as you.

“i’m not leaving you alone out here, let me make sure you get home.” you looked back at the ground, mumbling back a small okay and thank you, trying to ignore the words threatening to spill from your lips.

the walk to your apartment was filled with a thick silence, the only audible noises being the hum of the streetlights. A rough gust of wind caused your skin to fill with goosebumps, the cold breeze hugging your frame.

sunghoon noticed, almost quicker than you did. wordlessly, he dropped his leather jacket over your shoulders. you knew you should protest, but to be truthful, you missed him more now than ever.

when you didn't say anything or move at all, sunghoon stepped in front of you, gently unwrapping your arms and putting them into the sleeves of his jacket for you.

you stared at the cracked sidewalk, heavy tears threatening to fall from your eyes. his jacket was warm, and so big that you were practically swimming in it. his hands were warm too. and so was his voice, as he softly asked you if you were feeling less chilly.

you still refused to utter a word, not out of stubbornness but out of fear that your voice would betray you. after everything you did, after how bad you hurt him, sunghoon was still here, walking you home and taking care of you like he always did. like nothing had changed.

"y/n." sunghoon spoke a little louder, tilting your chin up so you looked him in the eye. "i said are you cold?"

the end of his question died in the back of his throat as your teary eyes came into view. he dropped his hand, eyebrows furrowing with worry.

"hey, hey, what happened?" his voice instantly softened. you couldn't do anything but shake your head, the tears finally trailing down your cheeks. sunghoon's thumb made contact with your cold cheek, wiping away the tears as the fell.

"y/n, please, tell me what's wrong." he almost sounded defeated, voice laced with concern that made you want the earth to swallow you whole. your chest ached.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, hoon." his head tilted in confusion at your apologies. he opened his mouth to respond.

"why are you apologizing?" you sniffled, tears still wetting your pink cheeks.

"im so stupid. i pushed you away because i just hated fighting and i thought that was the only way to make things better. but i can't-" you voice broke slightly and you took a second to breathe in. your eyes were screwed shut, refusing to look at sunghoon.

"i can't see myself with anyone else. i don't want to see myself with anyone else. any guy i talk to i just compare to you and it makes me feel sick. i know i can't but i've been trying so hard to move on because i'm scared that you hate me for hurting you and being so dumb." when you slowly opened your eyes, sunghoon pulled you into his chest.

your cheek was pressed against his white shirt, tears wetting the fabric as he held you tightly. he shoved his face into your hair, breathing in and relishing the feeling of you in his arms again.

"sunghoon?" you asked, voice muffled by his chest.

"i could never hate you." he mumbled into your hair. he pulled away and you saw him smiling, eyes crinkling as he tucked a strand of your hair away and wiped the last of your tears. your nose and cheeks were red both from the cold and from crying; sunghoon thought you looked adorable.

"for the past month haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. about us. how i should’ve fought harder to make you stay.” he laughed dryly as he spoke. “the only reason i even went to that party was because i might get to see you again.”

more than anything, it warmed sunghoon’s heart to see how much you still cared for him. all this time he was scared he was the only one still hung up on your relationship.

“i love you so much, i don’t care if we fight or if we go through a few rough patches. i only want you.” his voice softened slightly and he looked at you like you were the only two people in the world.

“you’re not mad at me?” you mumbled, hand crinkling the fabric of his tshirt as you clutched his side. shaking his head, he grinned.

“why would i be? you came back to me.” you smiled for what felt like the first time that night, hand instinctively covering your face. sunghoon pulled your hand down, wanting to see your shy smile. he loved when you were like this, shy and bashful. it made his heart nearly explode in his chest.

“can i kiss you?” he asked, intertwining your hands. you nodded gently, closing your eyes as sunghoon leant closer to you.

his lips were warm and soft, just like you remembered. your mouths fit together like puzzle pieces, molding to each other perfectly. sunghoon’s arms slipped under his jacket that you were still wearing, hands wrapping around your bare waist.

you were flush against his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your skin and his teeth sink into your bottom lip. as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, you swore to yourself that you’d never let park sunghoon go again.

[nikki0606]

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.

[kjupchurch-xx]

⭐️ Perfect ⭐️

                            July 26th, 2024

                       Los Angeles, California

                Deadpool & Wolverine Premiere

Tonight was the night we'd all been waiting for, the night we've worked so hard for. Tonight was the premiere party for Deadpool & Wolverine. I'd been working with the director, Shawn Levy along with making sure Hugh and Ryan had everything they needed while on set. I developed a super close friendship with Hugh and Ryan during the long filming process. I'd also gotten close with Blake, Ryan's wife. To be quite honest, everyone on our crew is probably the only people I'd consider friends since moving to Los Angeles four years ago.

I've done several films as a director's assistant over the last three years, but this film had been the greatest project I'd been apart of. Blake and I were at my home getting ready for the premiere while Hugh and Ryan were with Shawn preparing to meet us at the premiere. Our stylist came by earlier to finish up Blake and I's hair and makeup. They had us both sporting cute up-dos with a more natural makeup look with lighter neutral colors.

"I wonder what the guys are wearing tonight." Blake said while slipping into her beautiful red dress.

I shrugged, grabbing my black dress, sliding it on, "I don't know. Shawn wouldn't say."

She chuckled, "He never does. Did your ex finally stop blowing you up? Wasn't he trying to like show up on set some of the days we were filming?"

I rolled my eyes with disgust, "Yes, and yes. It's so funny how you ignore someone when you're with them and cheat on them but once they leave you on your ass, you want their attention."

We grabbed our stuff and headed towards the door as we saw our ride pulling up the driveway, "Have you met anybody you're even interested in yet? Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."  She smirked.

I laughed, shaking my head as we climbed into the SUV that was picking us up to shuttle us to the event, "Shut up, Blake. You're stating to sound like your husband."

She laughed, smiling at me, "You say that like it's a bad thing."

I looked at her, sarcasm dripping through my facial expression and my voice, "It is."

She took a hesitant breath, "Seriously though, someone asked me about you."

I looked at her curiously, "And who would that be?"

She smirked, "Hugh. He was at our place the other night while you and Shawn stayed behind to finish up cutting scenes."

My jaw dropped, "What did he say?"

She shrugged, "He just asked us how long you'd been single and if he seemed like your type. He said he thinks you're gorgeous."

I turned to face her, completely flabbergasted, "You are so full of shit, Lively."

She burst into laughter, "Ask Ryan!"

I widened my eyes, shaking my head, "He's more full of shit than you are!" I failed to contain my laughter at this point.

She giggled, "Just watch. Pay attention to how he looks at you at the premiere. You'll see."

I playfully rolled my eyes, "Okay, Blake."

Had Hugh actually talked to Ryan and Blake about me? He was a nice guy. We'd become friends since we met on set over a year ago. We'd done some press together and make each other laugh, but for some reason, I doubt he'd be interested in me. Not that there's anything wrong with me, he's just one of the biggest A-List celebrities in the world. He's also not even one year out of separation from his wife of 27 years. Dating is probably the last thing on this man's mind.

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet. I couldn't shake my thoughts. I think he's handsome, he's absolutely ripped and his personality is out of this world. His accent is pretty sexy, too.

As we pulled up to the premiere location, Blake and I exited our vehicle, "Let's go, girls." Blake said, channeling her inner Shania Twain causing me to smile.

"Where's the boys?" I asked as we walked down the corridor.

Blake checked her phone, "They're waiting to step onto the red carpet. Which is..." she trailed off while looking down the corridor, "Right down there on the left."

I nodded, trying to hide my nerves. I've been on other movie sets, I've worked with other stars but I've never done a red carpet event. What if I fall and bust my ass? What if my dress malfunctions? So many what-ifs. As we arrived to the end of the corridor, I see Hugh, Ryan and Shawn waiting for us. Blake walks over to Ryan and they share a quick kiss.

"Anyone else feel like a 3rd wheel?" I jokingly said towards Hugh and Shawn, causing Shawn to shake his head and laugh, "Every time I work with these two." He said.

Hugh hooked his arm around mine, "You can be my date tonight." He gave me a smile.

I blushed, looking towards Blake as she gave me a silly 'I told you' look while hooking her arm around Ryan's. "Ohhhh, Big Deb's gonna be pissed!" He spat jokingly causing us all to laugh.

Hugh shrugged, "Oh well. She's the one that wanted to end things. Time to move on. Plus, I don't want to be the nerd showing up without a date." He said with a laugh and cheeky grin.

Ryan looked at me, "Fuck you, your first time on the red carpet and you're going as Hugh Jackman's date. I had to fondle his balls just to get him on this film. You lucky, lucky girl."

I shook my head, about to ruin my 2 hour makeup job from tears hitting my eyes at this point due to laughing so hard. "Guys, I'm pretty sure we need to go out there." I chuckled pointing towards the doorway that led to the red carpet.

We all nodded in agreement and made our way out. The sound of the thousands of photographers, fans screaming and journalists on the red carpet filled my ears. I felt Hugh tighten his grip on my arm, whispering in my ear, "Don't be nervous, you're gonna do great!" Causing me to smile.

We all posed for pictures as the reporters went wild. Hugh had not been seen in public with anyone since his split last year, so this was a big deal. The movie we'd all worked our asses off on was a big deal. The shouting was unreal and unbelievably loud.

Blake and Ryan went to another spot to do solo photos, leaving Hugh and I to ourselves on the carpet. A reporter took this as his perfect moment to approach us with rapid fire questions I was bracing myself for.

"Hugh. Kaitlyn. How does it feel to be on the red carpet tonight?" He asked, shoving the microphone into our faces.

We at looked at each other, "It feels great, mate. Glad to be here." Hugh said with a smile.

"Like he said, we're honored to be here." I said with a big smile.

"Kaitlyn, this is your first time on the red carpet." The journalist said matter of factly.

I nodded in agreement, noticing Hugh has not taken his eyes off of me. "It is."

The journalist continued to pry, "First red carpet and you're on Hugh Jackman's arm, how does that feel?" He asked.

I blushed, "Ryan Reynolds paid me to be his date. Someone had to take one for the team." I smirked, causing the journalist and Hugh to laugh.

As we continued our walk down the carpet, Hugh moved his hand from my arm to around my waist. We talked with many more journalists and posed for hundreds of photos before heading off the carpet to the back of the venue. There were some artists that were due to perform for the event. Some of them included Ed Sheeran, Taylor Swift, Jelly Roll, etc.

Hugh looked over at me, "Noldsy paid you, huh?" He joked.

I joked, "Only a few hundred."

He playfully gripped his chest, "Ouch."

I threw my hands up signaling defeat, "If it helps, I'm glad I took one for the team and you weren't stuck holding Shawn on the red carpet."

He grimaced playfully at the sight, "You're certainly the prettier one."

I snickered. "Am I?"

He nodded with a cheeky smile, "Loads, sweetheart."

I'm starting to think Blake may have not been as full of shit as I'd thought. We made our way back to Blake and Ryan catching up in the crowd to watch the musical entertainment of the night. Taylor Swift took the stage first, causing Ryan to fan girl. Ed Sheeran came on right after, all was great until he began performing his hit song 'Perfect'. All of the couples in the crowd had begun slow dancing. It was a romantic, sweet song but being single in a crowd of couples was depressing.

I felt a presence behind me as a hand made its way to my lower back, "Care to dance with me?" I heard in an Australian accent.

I looked over my shoulder to see Hugh smiling a bit nervously. I turned to face him and gave him a nod and small smile, allowing him to pull me into his arms for a slow dance. We both swayed to the song, singing along, never breaking eye contact. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping he'd kiss me. I could tell he was thinking about it as his eyes kept trailing from my eyes to my lips as he held me close, continuing to sway to the sound of Ed Sheeran serenading the crowd.

I slowly bit my lip as I noticed his eyes glance at my lips again. His face slowly coming closer. I could feel Blake and Ryan's gaze on us wondering what was about to happen. Did I even know what was about to happen? Did I want to know? Before I could process any more thoughts of my own, I felt his lips on mine. They were soft and he smelled so damn good.

I know we're standing in a room full of hundreds of thousands of people, but in this moment, it feels as if he and I were the only two people in the room. The kiss was slow and passionate.

He slowly pulled away, still swaying me and looked at me, "I'm sorry, but I've had a crush on you ever since we began working together. I've wanted to ring you so many times and tell you, but I didn't want to complicate things on set."

I smiled pulling him for another kiss, nibbling on his bottom lip before pulling away, "Ryan actually didn't pay me to be your plus one."

He chuckled, "I know."

I looked up at him, "Can we go somewhere else? Somewhere more private?"

He nodded, grabbing my hand, leading us through the massive crowd of people. As we made our way down out of the concert venue back to the corridor, we noticed Blake and Ryan already ahead of us.

"Ah Pal, gettin' lucky, huh?" Ryan smirked.

Hugh and I laughed, "We are too. It's okay. Embrace it. Embrace the amounts of great sex you're about to have." Ryan continued while nodding his head as if he were a love guru.

"Goodnight, Ryan." We both said in unison watching Blake, who was unable to control her laughter at this point.

Hugh and I made our way to the car and of course couldn't escape the sea of paparazzi. Except this time, we didn't pose for pictures and continued to the car. There were pressing matters that needed to be attended to first. Once we got into the car, we instructed the driver to take us to my house.

Hugh rested his arm around my shoulders, "How long have you known?"

I looked at him, confused, "How long have I known what?"

He looked at me seriously, "That I have a thing for you."

I shrugged, "I actually didn't. Blake mentioned it to me earlier, but I assumed she was full of shit. Kind of like the time you told Ryan to come to your Christmas party in an ugly sweater so he shows up and everyone else is in Dior."

Hugh laughed, "Love, you're anything but an ugly sweater at a party full of people wearing Dior."

I began laughing, "You get the point."

He gave me the boyish smile that had melted my heart since the first time I saw him onscreen and pushed a fallen strand of hair behind my ear, "You are the most elegant, beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on."

I blushed, "You're not so bad yourself. I've actually had more of a school girl crush on you since the first X-Men movie."

He smiled cockily, "Really?"

I nodded, "Really."

He pulled me in for another kiss, this time pulling me onto his lap, deepening the kiss. I could feel his erection growing beneath me, causing me to pull away so we didn’t cause our driver to have a wreck before we made it back to my place.

“So what do we do now?” I asked casually, looking at him.

He shrugged, getting close to my ear, whispering “We’re going back to your place first, then I’m going to fuck you into the middle of next week. After that, we’ll cuddle. I’ll make you pancakes in the morning and after that, you’ll never want to leave.”

I chuckled pulling him into another kiss.

[canihaveacalmtime]

Sitting on the swings at the playground, all alone by yourself, while the sun just started setting down in the distance. You wonder why the playground is so empty today, no one is nowhere to be seen but does that matter to you right now? Your mother forgotten to come pick you up again, it's not like this is the first time.

It happens... everyday to be honest.

You understand that she's really busy with her job but that doesn't mean she... she can neglect you.

You understand that because of you, her husband left her, thinking that she cheated on him and you're the child of her and another man. You're still confident that your mother didn't cheat and maybe your father really just didn't wanted her or you anymore as all he ever cares for was your brother and big sister, both who are very successful in the acting industry.

Or simply maybe because... you look exactly like mother and father just doesn't want a child who doesn't resembles him in anything.

.

.

.

"Let's go home, (Y/N)."

You said to yourself as you got down from the swing and begin walking your 6 years old body back home.

.

.

.

Open the door to your house, which was not locked for some reason, you see your mother and some what familiar man sitting in front of her. {Just a guest}, you thought but as soon as you closed the front door, you feel someone lifted you up in a quick pace.

It was your mother and... she's crying?

"Oh my god, (Y/N)... where have you been, I've looked for you everywhere when the teacher said you left school early..!"

But you told her to pick you up at the playground nearby... maybe she just forgot, probably. She always forget things you told her anyway.

"Sorry for making you worried, mother."

She kiss you on the forehead before carry you to the couch where the man is sitting. After putting you down, she ask you if you can show him the birth mark you have on your right shoulder and you agreed.

"There, you see it now. I mean the DNA test is probably enough already but... she is really our daughter, you know."

DNA test? Our daughter? What's going on even, you ask yourself as you adjust your clothes back to normal. The man then crouched down to your level and pat your head, he explains that he's your biological father and that he's here to fix some troubles between him and your mother. He carefully embrace you into a hug as he apologize for abandoning you and your mother these 6 years.

The hug ends as you stare at him, unfazed, completely devoid of emotions as you just nod lightly. Upon seeing your emotionless face, your father was put into a worried situation while your mother seems troubled.

"(Y/N) dear, you understand what your father said, right?" Your mother asked, you nod. "We going to move to your father's place tomorrow, okay?" You nod again.

"Alix, let's talk... for a bit more. (Y/N), can you go to your room to start packing your stuffs and get ready for dinner?"

You nod, carry your school bag upstairs, not even bother to look back at your parents.

"How long has she been like that?" Alix, your father, ask in worried.

"Over a year ago... probably. I will take the fault as the reason why she became like that, I've always been too busy and... I couldn't stop blaming her for our divorce and- I'm just being a really bad mother to her."

"Dolores, dear. (Y/N) looks older than her age, I'm sure she understands but I just hope that we can start making up to her and give her a better life from now on together, alright?"

Dolores, your mother, nods while sobbing. She hate herself for being such a bad parent to you and ended up turning you into a wounded child who probably spent 6 years all alone by yourself. Alix is no different, he also hopes to give you the best life he could now that he's reunited again with you and your mother.

.

.

.

Dinner tonight isn't just you and your mother but now having your father for the first time. It does feel a little weird for you having another person on the dining table. Usually it would just be you eating alone or occasionally your mother if she was home soon that day. You also noticed that they look at you more a lot while eating, you don't complain or say anything but kept it in mind.

Alix was lost in thoughts. Usually at this age, children will always be the talker at the dining table because they tend to share their experiences at school with their family but now, looking at you, just sitting there quietly eating like that, hurts him.

"So (Y/N)... do you have anything cool at school to share with us?"

That's the first time someone has asked you that, "We study the subjects and... that's it". You stare at them, waiting for the next question.

"So... how about your recess time with friends?"

.

.

.

"I don't have friends, mother. I'm a loner and you know that too, though."

.

.

.

After dinner, without no more conversations, you say good night to your parents and retrieve back to your room, wanting to sleep soon as tomorrow is the weekend and you will move to a new place with your mother.

"Will my siblings like me? Probably not, no one likes a loner, people in school always say that, aren't they."

--------------------------------------------------

There will be a part 2, maybe turn into a series too. 50/50 yk yk.

[seonghwaddict]

say my name — song mingi

request by anon. "This is my first request to anyone ever so forgive me if this is..idk incoherent 😭. But lately I've been thinking about a short smut story where the reader (fem) being a backup dancer for ATEEZ and Mingi catching feelings for her over time and then end up fucking in the dressing room and maybe one of the members walks in idk have fun with it. 🤭"

idol!song mingi x backup dancer!reader. genre. smut. warnings. smut below the cut, explicit sexual content minors dni, fingering, some dirty talk, use of petnames (doll, baby), slight dom/sub dynamics, dom!mingi, swearing, intentional lowercase. please let me know if i missed anything. wc. 1.2k.

lilo's notes. i'm back!! this is the first request i've received, hopefully i did it justice. by the time i finished writing i forgot that anonie asked it it's possible for another member to walk in and join.... sorry about that. but anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this!!

listening to. perceive by doma cyno.

masterlist

“fuck, baby,” a hand swiped through your folds, gathering the almost embarrassing amount of arousal from your core. “you’re so wet.”

you like to think your day started off like every other day. you woke up at 7 am, ate breakfast, got ready for the day and arrived at kq two hours later. you went through some choreographies with the other backup dancers until 4 pm, left to run some errands, and then returned to practice some more on your own.

since your first day at the company only a few months ago, you’d always take a few hours after your shift to perfect your art more than you already have. sometimes you’d spend those hours with the other dancers who showed up for the same reason, but surprisingly, a lot of the time it was mingi who found himself practising his group’s or his own choreography alongside you.

the first few times felt awkward, to say the least.

you yourself weren’t really one to strike up conversations with random people, and considering he was part of the group you had to dance for, you were afraid of slipping up and losing your job. but, eventually, he talked to you. after that, things were easier—you’d joke around, take breaks to go eat something, help each other and sometimes even stop what you were working on to choreograph something together; just the two of you.

it was only a month or two later that you caught yourself looking at him in a less than friendly but rather heated way… and much to your surprise, you slowly started noticing his own lustful glances—lips red from biting them and hooded eyes tracking your every movement. but, alas, you weren’t one for first moves.

considering all of this, you weren’t surprised at the position you were currently in; on the floor of the practice room, legs hooked around his as you sat between them, mingi’s lips against the side of your neck, one arm around your waist and the other with his hand inside your panties (your shorts had been discarded long ago, along with his shirt) as he faced you to lthe mirror, forcing you to watch his every movement.

he swiped his middle finger through your folds, gathering some arousal and then slowly circling your swollen clit. a breathy whimper escaped your lips as you threw your head back on his shoulder. the combined sensation of his finger around your nub and his lips kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck sent another wave of wetness gushing out of you.

“eyes on the mirror, doll,” he moved his head up to whisper right into your ear with that husky voice of his, gently biting down on your earlobe. he removed his hand from your pussy for a moment, letting your legs down to slip your panties off before hooking them over his thighs again. you were practically dripping as he exposed you. “i want you to see what i’m doing, watch how your beautiful little body reacts to me.”

reluctantly, you nodded and pulled yourself off his shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the arousal smeared between your thighs. a moan escaped your lips as he gave your clit a particularly firm tug, his ring and middle finger pressed against the skin on either side of it and pinching gently. you tried holding back your following moans, but the quiver of your thighs gave you away. though, you felt better knowing you weren’t the only enjoying this so much, his erection strained against his pants and poked at your ass. 

his movements against your heat were slow but precise, eliciting pretty little whimpers and moans from you. the hand wrapped around the front of your waist moved up, featherlight touches leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he gently brushes his fingers over the fabric of your bra. then he nudge the straps down your shoulder and let the bra cups fall, his hand immediately going to tweak at your nipples. 

“f-fuck…” you cursed quietly, trying your best to stop your eyes from fluttering shirt from all the pleasure and keep your eyes on the mirror as he asked.

two of his large fingers circled your entrance, massaging it before slowly pushing in. jaw slack at the stinging stretch, you watched as they disappeared into your vagina, breath stuttering when he curved them just enough to brush against the right spot. your hand snaked it’s way behind his head, tugging on his hair gently.

“oh, look, doll,” you heard him groan behind you, feeling his smirk against your neck, “look at how well you take my fingers…”

and with that he slowly began pumping his fingers in and out of you, digits firmly pressing against the spongey spot inside you each time, increasing his speed more and more as his thumb continue circling your clit. he watched your face in the mirror, analysing each twitch of your muscles and each flutter of your lashes to perfectly adjust his movements. in any other context, you perhaps would’ve appreciated how perceptive he was. but right now you wanted nothing more than to savour the feeling of his fingers, anticipating how his cock would feel in you. 

before you knew it, the familiar knot of an orgasm began tightening in your abdomen, your body squirming.

“shit, mingi…” his name tumbled out of your mouth in a drawl and his movement stopped for a moment.l before he continued at a more rigorous pace. you could’ve sworn you felt his erection twitch behind you. 

“say that again,” he growled, “say my name.”

the rough scratch of his voice made you impossibly wetter as you obeyed quickly. “mingi, o-oh…”

after that it didn’t take much longer for you to snap, coming down hard on his fingers, muscles jerking and back arching as his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your noises.

“keep it down, baby, someone might walk in and see you at my mercy.”

he pulled his fingers out of you and caressed your thighs. it didn’t take to long for you to calm down from your high, chest heaving with deep breaths as he whispered praises in your ear. despite the fact you just had an orgasm, you knew you still wanted more.

“i-i need… i need you,” you tried, face flushed as you hinted the best you could.

“hm?” he chuckled. “and what exactly do you need of me?”

with a huff, you grinded yourself back against him, against his cock, but he moved his hands to grip your hips firmly and stop you. 

“that won’t do,” he shook his head. “i want you to use your words, doll. can you do that for me, baby?”

a moment of silence passed between you. it was awkward or anything, a teasing grin on his face as he looked you in the eyes through the mirror, your brows furrowed before you sighed.

“god, mingi, i need your cock in me.”

he grinned, hands tugging your shirt and bra off before sitting back on his knees and turning you around. mingi leaned over you, cupping your chin before kissing you with a bruising hardness. once he broke the kiss, a malicious spark shined in his sharp eyes.

“anything for my doll.”

network. @cromernet

[sehodreams]

https://x.com/archivetic/status/1758340676193046872?s=46

Anton's milf neighbour asked him to coach her and this is what it lead up to

Link (nsfw)

This was so good, my mind can't deal with all the scenarios, I quickly did this one but I imagined so many things I couldn't do something shorter.

TW and tags: dubcon at the start, humping, cheating, married!reader x younger!neighbor!Anton. WC: 1.9k

Anton had seen you walking around the neighborhood before, you were a young wife that had just moved with his older husband not many months ago, a pretty little thing that stayed alone in her big house obediently waiting for her husband to come back home and that always made his mother laugh.

You had started to warm up with the other mothers not long after you settled in, and you didn't have a child, but you had said how much you expected one, reason why you moved to his neighborhood, a calm part of the city with good schools around that looked out of a movie, the perfect place to start a family, so all of them welcomed you with open arms to the group.

His mother was one of the many wives that decided to dedicate to her family, and now that he was a lot older, had enough free time to befriend the neighbors and go out to enjoy her afternoons with the company of women like her, a group that happily included you.

"She said she's trying to get in shape before her anniversary, maybe you could help her and earn some pocket money this summer" she told him while they were having dinner. Anton was there only for the summer break and he didn't need to work, he never did it, but some extra cash sounded good, and when his dad nodded to what his mother said, it was decided, he'd go and coach the new cute neighbor.

When he knocked on your door you instantly melted his heart with your voice saying Just a second please, and when he saw your pretty smile saying his name, he knew he was fucked, "Anton, I've heard so much about you from your mother, thank you for helping me, I have no idea how to start".

You really had no idea how to start, a pretty little thing like you had never stepped into a gym or done any physical activity that didn't involve lifting your plants in your garden or pushing your furniture to rearrange the aesthetic of your living room.

He can guess why your husband snatched you so fast, if he had been in his place, he'd have done it too, the only thing your traditional family had taught you was how to be a good girl, and he was sure a man like the one you were with had smelled how fresh you were before he trapped you into marrying him.

You were older than him, five years at most, and you were almost three years married already, which meant you were barely older than him before you said yes to the housewife lifestyle.

You dropped out of college, you lived far from your family, and you didn't have friends your age. He was the closest thing you had to the taste of youth, and you received him so easily and with such honest intentions that, little by little, he had started to feel bad for taking advantage of you while training.

"Uhm do you really have to massage that place?" You asked when he made you lie over your stomach one day and his hands pressed its way from your calf to your ass, groping it with the excuse of not risking an injury before your session.

"Yes, we can't let you get hurt, we need to make sure your muscles here are relaxed enough before we continue" he said, making you nod. You weren't the expert, he was, he had trained for so many years, how could you even question his methods?

He had convinced you that everything he did was for your benefit, and if his hand pressed spots like under your chest, the inside of your thighs, or even your ass, it was only to check on your health.

You were uncomfortable with his touch, but you couldn't deny it, it also made your insides tingle, and you felt an excitement you had missed for a long time.

When you were young you would have that exact feeling when your friends told you to sneak out for a party since your dad never let you go out late, or when you knew your curfew was getting closer but you had already lied saying how you were studying at your friend's house when all you were doing was watch movies or talk about boys.

It's not that you don't like the married lifestyle, you love it, you don't have to think about what to do for work or how to pay your bills, you don't have to worry about your dad yelling at you for getting low grades and you can simply enjoy your day if you cleaned and had your husband's dinner ready before he arrived.

However, you couldn't say you were completely satisfied either.

Your husband was handsome and nice, but sometimes he couldn't make you feel as good as when you started accepting him into your bed, it seemed that after the honeymoon phase he was more interested in his big cases than helping you cum at night, and you were getting a bit bored of the exact same routine every day, waking up, cooking, dusting your living room, checking that your plants were okay and then waiting for him to arrive and repeat.

If it wasn't for the older ladies, you would have started crocheting to see if that kept you busy enough.

Still, even if Anton's touch made you feel good, you knew it was wrong to feel like that with another man's hands. You were a good girl, a good wife, and having your panties dripping after your cute younger neighbor came to help you train one hour a day was something that made you feel ashamed of yourself.

The worst part was that you couldn't hide it. Your cheeks would get red every time his mother said hi to you in the supermarket or when all the neighborhood wives met to have a cup of tea.

"I hope my son is treating you well" she would say, and you would only nod with a smile, hiding your face with your cup or grabbing one of the numerous mini snacks to change the subject into how kind the host that day was.

You were sure no one would blame you if they were in your situation. The sensation of the touch from a man like Anton, so big ang strong, would make anyone weak. His hands on your hips and his cock on your ass when he made you do sit ups, or his fingers sinking into the side of your chest to make sure your position didn't break while you lifted those dumbbells would push any other woman like you into doing even more, so you tried to just brush off those thoughts, because, after all, you never crossed any line.

Or at least you never did it until that day.

Anton had made you lie over your back this time, and your eyes tried to not look at the pretty boy over you, focusing on your white ceiling instead.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay? We need to check your flexibility before we try the next exercise" he said while lifting one of your legs and, with his crotch against your clothed sex, putting it over his shoulder.

Your heart started to pound and a choked whimper left your throat when you felt the first push.

Anton was pushing your leg as much as he could with the help of his weight over you, and he wasn't hard, but you could still feel his member and its form opening your lips and resting between them as if it belonged there.

You tried to ignore the way his hand had a firm grip over the back of your thigh and the exhale he gave when he pushed his cock against you once again, getting slightly harder with each thrust.

That wasn't just warming up at all, you weren't that dumb to not notice the way his hips were clashing harder and harder against you, the sounds that left his mouth were too obscene to be a mere exercise, and if anyone could see you two like that, they would instantly notice that something else was starting to happen to the boy.

You moved your eyes from the ceiling to his face, and you could see how his eyes were fluttering and he tried to control his breathing without success. The saliva accumulating inside his mouth made him gulp with every push and his eyes started to get more shiny with every second that passed.

He had a full erection at some point, and you should've stopped him, you told yourself to push him out of your way and warn him to never come back if he didn't want to hear from your husband, but just that little action of his hips against yours made you dizzy, a similar sensation to when husband first touched you, and you needed an orgasm so much that your body, instead of listening to your mind and do what was correct, opened your legs to complete receive him.

He didn't waste any second and started to rut against you, and the two of you were dressed, so you tried to convince yourself that it wasn't incorrect if it wasn't sex.

If you didn't take anything off, if you didn't let him sink his cock inside you, it wasn't cheating. You were just helping a young boy to find some relief, and that was almost like an exercise too, you two were fully clothed and you were dripping over each other, but it was like sweat, so that should be considered more as stretching than anything else, right?

You couldn't hold your voice back, Anton was pounding so deliciously over you that your insides started to clench, and you started to wonder, if he felt that good without directly touching you, how would he would make you feel if he just fucked you.

He was a lot bigger than your husband, his tip was leaving a big wet spot over his joggers and your yoga pants were getting dirty with your own slick, showing him exactly where he should thrust with his cock.

"This is just exercise, you need to train your core too" he said, and you, even if you knew it was all pure bullshit, nodded.

"You're right, Anton, I need it" you cried when you felt yourself getting closer to your orgasm.

Clenching over nothing, with hips jolting to meet his, you felt yourself cumming hard inside your pants, and he, doing it at the same time, left a loud moan while his hands pressed hard at your thighs.

He tried to control how much he was panting, his forehead was wet and his cock was twitching inside his clothes, a mess he would have to hide until he ran to his house at the end of the street and that made him wish he could let everything out inside your warm walls the next time.

He could already imagine how pretty you would look opening your legs and showing him your naked cunt so he could give you what your husband couldn't, because if you were so needy, Anton was sure it was his fault that you accepted someone else's touch.

Before he gave you a last thrust, out of greed because he didn't have anything else to pour, he talked, "we should repeat it, stretching is really important, so, tomorrow same time?"

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA For telling my partner I'd like to bring my ex into our relationship?

I'm copying this over from r/relationship_advice, because the responses are giving me the impression they don't really get what polyamory is & I'm hoping tumblr does. For reference: there's me (29M), my ex (28, Trans Man), and my partner (30M).

My ex and I were best friends in high school, went to the same college, & dated through the tail end of undergrad, for about a year and change. We ended things on very good terms, the only reason we broke up was a difference in life paths: I stayed in the city to get my Master's, he traveled constantly for his work (he's a sculptor who makes these huge custom multimedia pieces, they're genuinely some of the most beautiful things I've seen). We fell out of touch for the most part, but I'd see him popping up on social media occasionally, or he'd text me when he was in town and we'd hang out, along with some other school friends.

The last time I saw him before our present situation was about 3 1/2 years ago today. We went out for drinks, he came back to my place after, and we ended up hooking up. He stayed in town for about a week, and we hooked up a few more times, and then he left again. He sort of dropped off the face of the earth after that, but he'd always been pretty sporadic, especially when he had a big project, so I didn't think much about it.

Not long after that, I met my current partner. He's truly one of my favorite people in the whole world; he's incredibly thoughtful, and earnest, and passionate about his morals & principles (he's an environmental lawyer), and more than anything, he's someone I never feel like I have to pretend with. He asked for my number, we had our first date a few days later, and ended up staying awake the entire night just talking about anything and everything, so we went ahead and got 5am pancakes and called it our second date. We've been together for a little over 3 years now, we've been moved in together for about 2, and while we've had the occasional fight or rough patch I can definitely say I love this man, and I plan to spend the rest of my life with him.

So, the big change.

About a year ago (~2 years since seeing my ex, my partner and I have lived together for about a year at this point), my partner and I are having a night in, and there's a knock at the door. It's my ex, looking absolutely ragged, holding a 15 month old baby. As in, a baby who was conceived 24 months before then. Yep, it's pretty much what you're guessing. I let them both in, we had a sit down in the kitchen, and he told me everything he'd been doing in the past 2 years in between me cussing him out for keeping it all from me in the first place. I really do want to keep this as short as possible, so to give you the super condensed version:

She's my daughter, he's completely sure about that, there's no one else he's been with the math is even close to correct for

The second he found out he was pregnant, he more or less panicked. He's got a whole Thing about feeling like he's irresponsible/not a "real" adult, and this really set him off, so telling me felt like "admitting to fucking both our lives up" at the time. His OB/GYN said some pretty awful shit to him about not being more careful as a trans man too, which just made it all even worse

Because of all that, he'd genuinely planned to just never tell me I have a daughter & raise her completely on his own, but a few things compounded to force his hand:

The birth was really rough on him, and his recovery was slow enough he was having trouble going back to work, to the point where money was getting tight

On top of that, our daughter has celiac disease, and between paying out of pocket for blood tests & spending more on baby food she's safe to eat, things got desperate enough he went and took out a really dodgy loan from a scummy payday company

He was at our door because all of this had finally spiraled to a point where he'd lost his apartment, they'd been sleeping in his car for about a week, and he couldn't think of anything else to do

I think I was probably feeling every human emotion in existence at the same time through all of this, but the thing I remember most from the whole conversation was the way my partner kept drifting right back to the baby, and the soft way he looked at her. We put my ex & daughter up in a hotel room for the night and told him we needed to talk, and we'd discuss our options in the morning, but I think even then I kind of knew what our answer was going to be.

Sure enough, for the last year and a half we've been co-parenting our little girl, all three of us. We didn't want to juggle who's got her, or force my ex to find a place to stay, so we've turned my partner's home office into our daughter's room, and redid most of the downstairs layout so my ex could move into an actual bedroom, rather than just sleep on our pullout couch in perpetuity. We finally succeeded in convincing him that rest and recovery was more important than trying to contribute to the house finances right away, and it's been magical watching all that stress and terror slowly fall off him. It's like he's a little more alive again every time I look.

Which is where my question comes in.

I'd like to restate, I love my partner 100%. None of this changes that whatsoever. If I ask, and he says no, that will be the end of the discussion for me completely. But I have eyes. My ex is, objectively, a very attractive man. I know we work well together, and I have to admit I'm very curious to see where that same chemistry could lead now that he's not on the other side of the country half the time. I've also been noticing these little moments between him and my partner. Nothing I'd consider crossing a line, but I've caught my partner checking my ex out several times, as well as vice versa, and they get along remarkably well. Sometimes I'll go to enter a room, and see them both sitting there laughing and chatting and playing with our baby, and I'll just hang back to watch because it makes me so happy.

Add to all that, we're pretty deeply ingrained in each other's lives now. My partner and I don't often go out on dates alone anymore, but the last few times we did it felt as if my ex was missing from the table. We watched a movie together last night, and my ex sat in the middle of us with his feet in my partner's lap and his head on my chest, and it felt just as natural as my arm on my partner's shoulder. It's not about just having sex with him, and it's not that I'd want to invite any old person into our relationship. I know we already all love each other, and I think there's potential for that to become romantic between the two of us and my ex.

It just feels as though we're all holding our breath, waiting for someone else to say it first. My ex certainly isn't going to bring it up when he's living rent free in "our" home (it's his home too, but he doesn't seem to see it like that yet). My partner grew up sheltered enough that I'm not sure he's ever heard of polyamory at all, so he's not going to bring it up. That just leaves me.

My problem is, if I'm wrong about what I think I'm seeing, or if I bring it up the wrong way, I can't take it back. I don't want my partner to feel insecure or betrayed, I don't want my ex to feel pressured or put on the spot, and I definitely don't want my daughter to lose any of us, which I know could happen if we aren't all on the same page. Or worse, if we do all date and it goes badly.

Should I just keep this whole thing secret? Is that even worse? Would I be the asshole for opening this can of worms on everyone else?

Help!

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

I have request for Spencer Reid x Plus size fem!reader. Maybe her and Spencer are good friends and she gets stood up on a date or her date leaves after seeing her and Spencer swoops in and love confession.

p.s I love you work. <3

༉‧₊˚. 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

― pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

― summary: admitting that you got stood up on a date would be like admitting defeat, too bad spencer's too good of a best friend to let you go through this alone, even if he was the last person you wanted to see.

― warnings: best friends to lovers, getting stood up on dates, a red flag named chris (sorry to all the chris' out there), mutual pining, requited love, love confessions, and implied dates!

― wc: 1457

⋆ a/n: OH, MY GOODNESS IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN AN ACTUAL ONESHOT. i got hit with a random bout of inspiration out of nowhere and i have a bunch of fanfics that already have banners made but they're unwritten and rotting in my drafts so i'm trying to clean them out first. thank you for this and i hope you enjoy some best friend!spencer reid!!

masterlist | AO3

Leave it up to you to be stood up on a date you didn’t even want to go on.

You weren't even looking for anything serious with someone, you just needed a distraction, you needed anything that would help you move on from him. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault that you were in love with him – well, it actually kind of is – but that’s beside the point.

There was no way you could continue to sit there and allow yourself to wallow in self-pity over the fact that your feelings for your longtime best friend weren’t reciprocated. You were a grown woman for God’s sakes! And as a grown woman, it was up to you to make grown up decisions. One phone call to Derek was all it took for you to get hooked up with some dude that he knew.

“He’s a good guy,” He said.

Yeah, right. Good guy your ass.

Not only did you look stupid, but you were left stranded in a sports bar surrounded by a bunch of strangers – no, scratch that! Almost all of the patrons in this bar tonight were men, it was football season. You were practically asking to get murdered! What kind of FBI agent would you be if you allowed yourself to be murdered over the fact that some guy’s team lost.

With a sigh, you gazed at your chat between Chris and you. You had sent him a text thirty minutes ago asking where he was when he was ten minutes late, but even that message had been left unread.

The only reason why you were still here was because you were oh so painfully embarrassed, and you hoped that others around you couldn’t tell that there was supposed to be a second person joining you at your very barren booth that you had somehow managed to score.

Now that you think about it, how in the hell had you allowed this man to talk you into going to a sports bar instead of oh, I don’t know, a restraunt with a calm, and comfortable atmosphere?

Maybe it was the fact that the only person’s face you could see in your mind as you discussed where you were going to go together was Spencer’s. As ashamed as you were to admit, you mostly imagined a disappointed look on his face when he realized you were going out with someone else, but even you knew that was damn near impossible.

It wasn’t your failed date that was the shit show – even though it is a close second – it was you that was the main attraction. How could you have allowed yourself to be this childish? You weren’t in high school anymore, and you hadn’t been in some years, but old habits die hard, you guess?

It didn’t have to be common knowledge to tell that your romantic life when you were in school was very, very sad. You often found yourself alone on most weekends, ample amount of time to study right under your fingertips. You figured that when you had gotten older things would have gotten better but… nope.

You didn’t know who to call.

Would you call Derek and blame him? No, he couldn’t have known, but you could totally get him to beat Chris’ ass. The thought of your favorite and very muscular chocolate thunder roughing the piece of shit up helped to easy your nerves, badly enough. There was just one person you couldn’t bring yourself to call, and that was Spencer.

Calling Spencer meant that you were giving up, that you were waving the white flag, that you were still in love with him and no number of blind dates, good or bad, could change that.

You bit the inside of your cheek in thought, at least you had dressed up in something comfortable.

“Can I sit here?” You heard someone ask over the bustling noise of the bar.

“Honestly, you can just have the thi–” You spoke without looking up, but when you did, your words died in your throat.

There Spencer stood in his full glory; tall, lanky, nerdy, and extremely uncomfortable, but nonetheless, he slid into the sticky seat across from you with an awkward smile.

“Spence? What are you doing here?” You asked in shock, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I uh- Morgan called me. He said that Chris told him to tell you something came up, but I uh- I figured that wasn’t true.” He explained sympathetically. You scoffed, your body slouching along with the noise. “Yeah, no shit.” Your words were bitter and harsh, which caused you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“Fuck, Spence. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to talk to you like that, I’m just… frustrated.”

He reached out his hand, albeit reluctantly seeing as though the table was in the same state as the seat, maybe even a bit worse. You looked down at it then at him before relenting, your full hand slipping into his lithe one perfectly, as if it belonged there.

The fact that this felt so right made your stomach twist sickeningly, fingerings twitching in desperation to pull away. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to stay. You did not have the mental compacity to dig yourself out of another hole.

“No, it’s okay. I understand.” He reassured, his thumb caressing the back of your knuckles gently. “I came as soon as he called,” He then looked around, “Especially after he told me where you were.” You laughed a bit at his concern, your body feeling lighter as it finally straightened.

A soft grin graced your features.

“Thank you, Spence. Really. I know how uncomfortable these kinds of places make you. I just- I really thought tonight was going to go differently.” I thought that things between us were going to go differently, is what you really meant.

“I’m sorry, I know you liked him.”

You grimaced at the word ‘liked.’

“I think ‘liked’ would be the last word I would use to describe how I feel for Chris.”

It was his turn for his eyebrows to furrow. “What do you mean.”

You huffed. “What I meant was that I didn’t even want to go on this stupid fucking date anyways, but I had too… I had too…” You allowed your words to trail off when you had caught yourself about to admit something you had fought years to keep under wraps.

“You had to what?”

Goddamn him and his never-ending curiosity.

“Just leave it alone, please?” You pleaded. You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, your gaze soft and vulnerable. “Okay.”

A silence – what was an equivalent to silence – settled over the both of you. The air was thick with unspoken words and feelings, an invisible line was drawn that the two of you were too scared to cross.

“I would’ve never stood you up, you know.” Spencer piped up quietly, his grip that had gone limp in yours tightening. “What?” Your breath hitched. “And I would’ve taken you to someplace nicer than this.” His voice was shaky and forceful, as if he was forcing himself speak in fear that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t say anything at all.

“What are you saying?” You were breathless, the butterflies that fluttered around in your gut making you nauseous. Hope bloomed at a dangerous rate in your chest.

“What I’m saying is that if I were to take you out on a date, it would be a lot better than this.” He had finally gotten the courage to raise his gaze instead of focusing on where your hands were interlaced. “I would take you anywhere you wanted to go, then I would try my best to make it memorable for you because I…” He gulped. “Because I love you.”

Your ears were ringing. There was sweat beginning to form on your hairline.

“You’re being serious?” The question sounded more like a plea. “Because if you’re saying this because you feel bad, I-” He cut you off. “I don’t feel bad.” He lowered his head to where yours was in an attempt to connect your gazes deeper.

“I really do love you. I- I have for a long time.” Spencer confessed.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” You said through a wobbly smile. His smile matched yours. You could feel the fact that both of your hands were extremely clammy with nerves, but none of you could find it within yourself to care.

“Can I cash in that date now?”

“Now?” He asked incredulously, lifting his free arm to check the time on his wrist. “It’s pretty late.”

You gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m pretty sure we can figure that out.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @zippertwat @alixwriter

[yesimwriting]

I love ur felix fics sm!! ur one of my fave writers on here<<333 and no I don’t think itd b crazy to write for Nate!! I’d love to see how u would write him!! (Maybe grumpy x sunshine hehe)

hi!! this is such a nice ask :)) i'm so happy you like my felix fics

omg i love ur train of thought for a nate fic!! i've been thinking about that kind of dynamic for them, but in a really niche way

anyways let's have some thoughts on nate jacobs and sunshine/kind of sheltered reader!!

----

thinking about the moment in which you find out nate jacobs is your assigned partner for a project that's worth 35% of your final grade. if this was happening to you a year ago, maybe even two or three months ago, you might have been nervous for an entirely different reason.

but you're not that version of yourself anymore. you go out to parties now; you wear shirts to school that your mom buys for you the same way she used to buy you impulse barbies, with a wink as the cashier scans them, making you promise that you won't show dad what you got at the store; you're friends with maddy and cassie...you're on your way to best friends with maddy and cassie.

so you can't dismiss the gossip and the stares nate gets in the halls as a standard part of high school, not the way you used to. you can't just see him across the hall at his locker and mentally acknowledge that you get why girls talk about him the way they do. you can't just get paired up with him for an extremely long assignment and think oh, at least he's cute.

every story maddy's ever mentioned during sleepovers, everything she's teared up about after one too many drinks hits you at full force when your teacher reads your name and then his off of her list.

would she see this as a betrayal? it's not like you picked him and asking for a new partner is out of the question, a fact your teacher made clear at the beginning of the year. but maddy's loyal...fiercely loyal, and she expects that kind of commitment to be symbiotic.

you don't move, can't move until jules leans towards you, so close her hair spills onto your desk. "no fucking way." she whispers it in a way that'd make you laugh if this was about someone else.

you're silent, eyes finally pulling away from a brightly colored poster explaining the roles of each branch of the US government. you turn your head enough to look at where nate sits, the back of the room with a few other football players.

he's already looking at you. and when nate realizes you're finally staring back, he has the audacity to let the corner of his mouth pull into a smug sort of smile you're sure another version of you would have considered swoon worthy.

you're all instructed to use the last few minutes of class time to talk to your new partners, to make some kind of preliminary plan. nate's standing up and you're still recovering from the whiplash.

helplessly, you look over at jules who's clearly trying to get to the other side of the room before nate can get to you. she mouths a "sorry" that feels genuine, and points at the girl she's supposed to work with in a way that feels like over kill. you roll your eyes, picking up your pen and pressing the pad of thumb against its side to have something to do.

nate's in front of you before you know it. he's so tall it's a little intimidating when he's right there, especially with you still sitting. "you're everywhere now." a reference to the fact that you were both at the same party last weekend. you can still hear maddy's slurred i can't believe he's fucking here, before she dragged you out to the house's patio.

he's probably seen you more places. you're around maddy pretty regularly these days and from what you've heard, you wouldn't put stalking above him. he's probably a stalker in the way guys from the news are stalkers, calm and untouchable until they feel like the girl they're watching is moving on. then they snap and some news anchor reports that there were warning signs for months beforehand.

you're partially aware of your potential exaggerations, but you can't bring yourself to care. you've never really interacted with nate, but you want to hate him as more than the monster you hear about when maddy feels like ranting. you want to viscerally hate him. it's such an instinctual tug that you can't pretend it's all about morality. you're craving innate repulsion the way an elementary school girl wants the other half of a magnetic necklace with the word "best" etched into cheap metal. it's kind of pathetic, but then again...

"not last year, or last semester--"

he's baiting you and you're completely aware and you still can't help yourself. "what? it's illegal to make new friends now?"

your tone surprises you more than the fact that you interrupted him. you've never been overly shy, but you've also never been much of a fighter on your own behalf. maybe this is like the parties and barbie-style-bought-shirts, just another facet of the improved you.

nate seems surprised too, only he wears it like there's something funny about it. "no, you've always been friendly."

he says it like there's a joke in there that'd make the football players a few rows back laugh. it digs at you more than it should. he gets under your skin in a way that bugs. maybe that means genuine hatred is on its way.

you look up at him, eyes as unimpressed as you can manage. "so," the word is definite, intentional. "the project..." you're glad for the excuse to turn your attention back to your notebook, "i don't know if you want to work out a time to--"

"i'm leaving in like five minutes." you're about to point out that class doesn't end for another when he explains, "football game." ugh. another thing you can decide to be annoyed about. your homework schedule is now going to revolve around high school football. "can i get your number?" the idea of existing in nate jacobs's phone feels so wrong you can't immediately reply. he picks up on your hesitation, because he tacks on the one phrase that could get you to do anything, "35% of our grade."

you nod once, expression as blank as you can manage as you write out your phone number on the corner of a page. You tear off the bottom corner and hand it to him. "don't save my number."

it's so rude, your jaw almost drops, "what?"

"you're going to see maddy before the project's over, right?"

the implication immediately makes your stomach knot. you're not--you can't not tell maddy. she won't like it, but she can't hold a random partnering against you. and--and it's worse if you don't tell her, because then it's like you're sneaking around with nate. and it's--it's all for school.

"i'm not going to lie to her for you." it's so ridiculous, you can't even hold eye contact. his silence adds a second loop to the knot in your stomach. "why would i lie?" your own genuineness sickens you, you're backtracking immediately. "and--and it's just a dumb school thing, so she probably won't care that much."

"and you're sure she's going to believe that?"

"yes," the word is firm because it has to be. "because that's what it is."

"she gets paranoid."

no, no--he's doing this to get into your head and cause problems. "if she's paranoid it's because you're crazy."

"fine." he shoves the scrap of paper into his pocket. "save my number, don't save my number. tell maddy, don't tell maddy."

you sigh. "why do you care?" they're broken up...even if maddy takes it the wrong way, the fall out will be a you problem.

"she's going to think i fucked you to hurt her." you hate this--the situation, the conversation, the fact that you can't completely dismiss his train of thought. "who's known maddy longer?"

you're about to try again, to defend your friendship with maddy and call him crazy again when the static of the intercom speakers interrupts you. all football players are being called out of class to leave for an away game. nate gives you one last look before turning towards the door.

when jules slips back into her seat and asks if you're okay with everything, you nod and attempt a joke about catching fuck boy germs, but it doesn't come out the way you want it to. she still laughs, so you do too, but that's not as natural as it should be, either.

----

lmk if you like this concept/want more of it!! i had fun writing this :))

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆PART 6: LITTLE WHITE LIES [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist | a not so secret santa project ‼️ f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader (smau)

summary: seb just wants y/n to accept that contract, and he's going to do everything he can to make it happen. also... the sebastian vettel fandom goes wild when her ex girlfriend does her comeback

warnings: curse words, bad language. mentions of cheating. faceclaim: emma stone, hanna prater

taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: surprise, i posted again! and first smau! I've been wanting to do one of this for a long time, so i hope you like it (please tell me)! feedback (please let me now what you thought of this!) and reposts are truly appreciated. and also comment me your thoughts and theories on the story pls!

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

MAY 25TH 2018

JUNE 1ST 2018

ynyln just posted

ynyln moving on from him is impossible when i still see it all in my head in burning red... see you on june 15th x (more news coming soon... in july <3)

user1 omg are we having red mv? this is ALL red coded

user 2 THERE'S NO WAY SHE DID THIS ↳ user3 wait what is this about? ↳ user 2 user3 take a closer look to the pictures 😁 ↳ user4 i'm not getting it... someone explain it?

lewishamilton it's good to see you finally achieving your dreams! ❤️🙏🏿 ↳ ynyln can't wait to see you soon lew! missed you lots x

user6 she's absolutely insane for posting this pictures... i gotta love her ↳ user7 why is it with the pictures she chose to post? aren't they related to what her song says? ↳ user6 take a look at the twitter thread sebsrrari just posted!

user8 EXCUSE ME MISS YLN? WHAT DO YOU MEAN WITH THAT "SEE YOU SOON"? ↳ ynyln maybe redbullracing can give you a hint... ☺️ ↳ redbullracing ynyln, do you really want us to post certain something we have already saved? ↳ ynyln redbullracing you know i do! i don't know what are you waiting for?

user9 wait wasn't she dating sebastian vettel back in the day? it seems like she's recalling her years with him ↳ user10 i'm 110% sure that the quote goes to seb ↳ user11 and the fact that lewis has left a comment... they know i'm sure

user12 if this post has anything to do with seb... the og wag fandom is going to rise from the ashes and go WILD.

redbullracing just posted

redbullracing We are so delighted to announce that from now on we will officially become the main sponsor of our former golden girl, ynyln, who just started her career as a singer. Also... she will be joining us for the 2018 German Grand Prix next July! More details coming soon.

user1 THEY POSTED SEB AND Y/N OH MY GOD ↳ user2 is this some kind of throwback? weren't they dating a while back? 😯

user3 ok but the fact that they posted that picture makes me think maybe seb and y/n never really lost touch... could this be the start of something more than just sponsorship? ↳ user4 exactly thought this! there's definitely something more going on

user5 seb and y/n together again in 2018 does this mean they're dating again or is it just for promo? ↳ user6 probably promo... ↳ user7 or maybe they know something we don't... ↳ user8 really why posting a picture of them together when they broke up a while ago? ↳ user9 user8 WAIT THEY WERE DATING? ↳ user8 user9 yes! twitter is now full of their story, it's quite a romantic one but also bittersweet... it didn't end well according to most of people

user10 of course seb's the reason y/n's getting back in the spotlight ↳ user11 seb and y/n have way too much chemistry for you to say that ↳ user12 exactly! seeing her again after going viral without us knowing, and her being with seb again, is making me think there’s more to this story!

[zoe-oneesama]

On a serious note, why do you not like Derision? I mean, I can guess why, but I’m genuinely curious to hear your thoughts (if you want to).

What have they done to my boy?!

I guess we'll start with the whole "trauma" thing since that's how the episode starts - with Marinette going on a date with Adrien at the pool but constantly getting heart palpitations at the very idea of it. And not good lovey-dovey crush ones like Sabine thinks. The Actual Panic Attack kind.

This just feels unnecessary AND too late. Unnecessary because there are plenty of pre-established reasons why Marinette could be hesitant to go all in with Adrien (Being Ladybug, the 354th other times going for Adrien has failed or left her humiliated, Being Ladybug). So I don't know why they invented a trauma for her in the final hour and didn't think it was worth talking about before now?

They really came up with this whole scheme to explain why Marinette does Marinette things, like learning Adrien's schedule, planning out everything before she tries to make a move, needing to know everything about him, as if the show hasn't been mocking her for these exact traits and allowing them to blow up in her face over and over again. But NOW it's due to her TRAUMA. So...retroactively when her friends laughed at her or slapped their foreheads in frustration or the show framed her failures as a joke...we know it's actually from a tragic place and can't laugh anymore.

I mean, I was never laughing, but you get what I mean. They framed it like it was part of the comedy and now they're pulling the rug out from under themselves. How are you supposed to laugh when Adrien brings Marinette constipation medicine, or when her pictures of him are blasted all over Paris Television, or the *ugh* Statue Scene plays out and now you know that this is just adding to her pre-existing trauma? They have shot the show's rewatch value.

I never thought Marinette needed a "reason" act the way she was because those were always just kinda The Things Teenage Girls Do when they have a crush. I've admitted in the past to learning my crush's class schedule just to orchestrate running into each other in the hallways more often, and if their crush had public interviews and magazine pictures, I'm pretty sure most kids would also cut out their pictures to keep and would read and remember the interviews. I never really saw her behavior as that weird for a girl her age with a crush and recognize some cartoon exaggeration.

...Stealing his phone was a little weird, though, I'll give them that though Alya is the one who suggested it first...

SO, we enter a long flashback to One Year Ago (with Marinette now on her third Almost-Akumatization, good lord) and learn what life was like for Marinette pre-Origins, and oh boy. It's hell. She's making up illnesses to avoid school, avoiding all contact with anyone in the courtyard, having cockroaches put in her locker, having the Principal catch her "late" for class (after she had to clean herself up from a water prank), gets yelled at by the teacher for being late, sits in paint, mocked in class and then yelled at again by the teacher for pointing out the person mocking her probably planted it, and gets Saturday detention. All in one day. And when anyone tries to talk to her or even glares at the person responsible, they get threatened too.

The main reason this is hell is because Marinette is being let down by every single adult in her life. Sabine just laughs and tells Marinette that she only has a few weeks left with Chloe and it's not like she'll be in the same class as her next year.🙃 Well, why don't you make SURE she doesn't?! Maybe this is just an American vs French school thing, but where I come from, it's totally within your rights to request that your child not be put in the same class as someone else, they could at least put in a throw away line about her parents TRYING to move her, but Chloe's not allowing it JUST to keep Marinette close to her. And maybe take this a little more seriously, Sabine- your daughter is faking illness to avoid One. Girl. That should be concerning, not "lol my daughter is so silly for trying to get out of class."

Damocles finds Marinette and yells at her for being "constantly late" and praising the "anonymous notes" (signed by Chloe -_-) for always alerting him when she's behind, and then later gives her Saturday detention for...someone clearly planting paint on her desk chair? He sees a victim of bullying and punishes her for it. At the end of the episode he even suspends Socqueline for something that happened outside of school, yet in "Jubilation" she's pumping him up as The Best Principal?! Does this show thinks we're stupid or something?!

Mendeleiev also yells at Marinette for being late. She allows Chloe to make fun of Marinette for looking depressed when she comes in and allows Chloe to mock Marinette for sitting in paint, but when Marinette doesn't even stand up for herself but just accuses Chloe of putting the paint there, THEN Mendeleiev has something to say, and it's to Marinette? For "groundlessly" accusing the only person in the room laughing at Marinette, the one who was just making fun of her, the one who kept her eyes on Marinette so she could watch her sit in the paint?

Marinette tells Socqueline that all the adults are scared of Chloe, but that's not what I saw. Sure, at the end of the episode Damocles is afraid when Chloe pulls a "Lady Wifi" to force him to punish Socqueline for smashing Sabrina's phone, but the sequence of events played out more like the adults participating in the bullying. It wasn't like Damocles was sympathetic to Marinette and then Chloe cleared her throat, so he straightened up nervously and started berating Marinette. It wasn't like Marinette accused Chloe and then Chloe glared at Mendeleiev, forcing her to finally intervene. All the adults see what's going on and are either completely oblivious or don't care.

Also, Chloe totally unprompted says this:

GET A LIFE, what is your PROBLEM?! Like, why have a flashback episode and not have it explain what Chloe's fixation on Marinette even is?! It doesn't have to be big or anything! Like, have Marinette trip and spill something on Chloe in art class! Just do something!

And like, I totally get that irl bullies just choose their targets for no real reason and this is just another example of that, but to this level?! Just...get a hobby!

And then there's the big thing they did in this stupid episode. The unforgivable. The reprehensible.

This fucking guy.

It's been so long since we've seen Bully Kim that I was pretty sure he was left behind entirely on the draft floor. Sure, Kim is still capable of being insensitive or not thinking long-term, but he was a good kid. He roots for his friends and wants everyone to have a good time.

Hell, I could even buy that Kim was dumb enough to believe Chloe when she claims what he did was a funny practical joke that they'd all laugh about later...until Socqueline came up and yelled at him that he should be ashamed of himself.

And Ondine yelled at him in the present that he should be ashamed of himself.

And it's a year later and he should have realized by now that he should be ashamed of himself.

Kim is dumb, that's just a fact, but the way he doubles down and is so sure of himself that NO it's everyone ELSE who has a problem because they can't take a JOKE? Like...why?! Why did they co-sign on this character assassination?!

Just make him become akumatized because he's A S H A M E D of what he did now that he's finally sitting down and thinking about it a year later! He can keep the same look and motif, just have Monarch stroke the part of him that doesn't want him to be the jerk, the old Kim! It's totally normal, especially for a kid, to want to believe that they're not the bad guy even with all the evidence pointing to it, so I could even see the akuma being exactly the same.

But naur, it's KIM who talks like a right-wing podcast douche bag, complaining that you can't just speak your mind these days and everyone needs to get a sense of humor, they just don't GET it man, this is just how he IS brah, take it or leave it! His akuma's even named "Dark Humor", like edgy losers on reddit who make racist/sexist jokes and then get mad when he's downvoted and boo'd out of a forum. God, we just CAN'T TAKE A JOKE I guess.

I'm glad this is resolved by Ladybug gluing a toilet to his head.

I just...I feel like this could've worked in Season 1, or Season 2. Like...put it before Dark Cupid or before Syren or something. That way, Kim being a total douche is the starting point of his character arc, not the Season 5 Post-Hero Run point, ugh.

It'd also make this stupid line make more sense:

I'm sorry, the girl who got you akumatized after she humiliated you in nearly the same way you humiliated Marinette? I guess that was "just a prank bro" too, right?

Establish Marinette's problems with romance early, so she can overcome them or at least give them the proper context. It'd at least make the show look better if they hadn't made fun of her for 4 Seasons only to drop this bombshell on us at the end. You know...the thing that they just did.

This episode just isn't fun. I hated "Illusion" because all you get to see is the bad guys winning and outsmarting the heroes, but "Derision" is a marathon of seeing the absolute misery Marinette was put through, just to jump forward to the present to destroy a character that I really liked.

Would a kid even like this episode?

[touteslespetiteschosess]

Is It Over Now? || Kylian Mbappé

Plot: Kylian and y/n have been fighting for so long, she's not even sure she knows what they're fighting for anymore. Angst.

Warnings: toxic relationship

Word count: 3458

Masterlist

y/n well done on your goal, amour x will you want dinner when you get home? i'm making myself some pasta so i'll do extra for you x do you know what time you'll be home? i've left some food in the fridge for you x kylian can you reply please? i'm worried it's getting late, where are you?

A deep frown was etched on her face, she stared at her ignored texts, the oldest sent five hours ago and the most recent nearly an hour ago. None of them had received a response and neither had her calls.

She hadn't been able to go to his match today, as she'd already arranged to go out for her friend's birthday in the morning. Kylian hadn't minded though, it wasn't a particularly important match and she rarely missed any of his games, so she could be forgiven for this. Surely that wasn't why he was ignoring her. Well, knowing him at the moment she could easily conclude that there was no reason behind the radio silence. He was just being Kylian.

Dick.

She knew he probably had no reason to ignore her; he was most likely just over at Achraf's and didn't value her emotions enough to dain her with a text back. Still, having been alone in the house for so many hours with only her thoughts to keep her company, she couldn't stop her mind from wandering. It only felt natural to pick up her phone and she really couldn't help herself from opening Instagram. Her thumbs had a mind of their own, opening one of his fan accounts.

Then there he was, grainy footage of him on their story at some club in Paris, surrounded by his teammates. And then there was somebody else. Some girl sat at his side- on his side more really- his arm flopped lazily over the back of the booth behind her.

She was saying something and he was laughing. He was laughing in a way that he never did with y/n anymore. Wow, he was really laughing- surely nothing she said could be that funny.

The video was short, maybe five seconds, but she restarted it, watching it again, feeling a fire raging within her. The next story was a photo that some stranger in the club had taken. The pair were on the dance floor, none of his friends were in sight now. Her hands were up in the air and only now did y/n notice the girl's outfit. She wore a little red dress, just like the one that hung up in y/n and Kylian's shared closet. It was his favourite dress and she knew it.

At the sight, the fire that burned within her suddenly settled, an eery calm setting over her. After a few moments, she headed upstairs and drew a bath, watching the water slowly rise up the tub's sides. She loved that bath; the tub was huge, yet elegant, and sat right in front of a huge window which gave the most amazing view of the Eiffel Tower. Besides that, she and Kylian had spent some memorable nights in this bathtub. Not for a while though, she thought.

Now that she really considered it, she wasn't sure how many good memories she had with Kylian in the last six months. Maybe after three years together, she'd just grown used to the knowledge that she loved him and hadn't considered if he still deserved it. Maybe she hadn't considered if he still deserved her.

Maybe she'd been so caught up in the idea of the perfect man she'd met in that bar three years ago. She still remembered that innocent smile so vividly, the way he'd lift his glass to sip, almost hiding behind the thing. How every time she'd flirt with him, he'd blush like a schoolboy, and then suddenly shoot back with the most outrageous comment.

How a month after they'd started dating, the pandemic hit, and he'd turned up at her door, much to her disapproval. Then, he'd immediately asked her to move in with him. She still remembered his words.

Take a chance. If we're gonna go down, let's go down in flames. I don't wanna forget you, baby.

That aged like room-temperature milk.

He'd convinced her so easily, his charming smile and smooth words always getting the best of her. And he'd been right. Those had been the best few months of her life.

And even after lockdown, when she was back at work and football became more full on, everything had just seemed so right. He just seemed so right.

Every time he'd go away for matches, he'd always find some stupid trinket to bring home for her. The tradition had started the week they'd met, when she'd asked him out on another date and he'd had to turn her down, as he was playing away in Italy. He'd brought her back a little keyring- a pizza with Italia written on it. It was so tacky and so cheesy that she immediately fell in love... with the keyring. Their fridge was still littered with far too many magnets to count, very out of place in his black and white, minimalist kitchen.

Of course, she remembered the first gift, and she remembered the first time he'd forgotten. It was after an away match to Manchester City. An away match that had knocked PSG out of the Champions League- in the semi-finals.

It wasn't that she'd been expecting a gift- no, she completely understood. It was difficult for him; he'd been injured and therefore couldn't play the second leg. He'd had to go all the way to Manchester and didn't even get to kick the ball. He just had to sit on the bench and watch his dream fade before his eyes.

Despite not playing, she knew he blamed himself. He always blamed himself. For the injury. For not scoring in the first leg. For everything.

At the time, she hadn't been upset that he hadn't bought her some shitty magnet for their already cluttered fridge or a bottle opener for their already stuffed drawer. Besides, Manchester didn't have much to offer in the tourism department besides football, so she could forgive him for not wanting to search through shops full of his opponents' memorabilia, just to uphold their tradition.

Looking back on it though, that was the moment he snapped. Three weeks later, he'd returned from Reims empty-handed; when she'd playfully questioned him, asking how she was supposed to sleep at night without an 'I &lt;3 Reims' t-shirt, he'd grunted something about being busy with work and she tried not to let her face fall, wishing he'd have just made some stupid joke in response.

Y/n, I can't afford to keep buying you all these presents.

Honey, nobody hearts Reims.

Well, I had some grapes for you but I got peckish.

But no, he'd just grumbled some excuse and gone up to their room. They'd won the game too. The last match of the season. Sure, they hadn't won the league but that fate had been sealed weeks ago.

Of course, at the time, she hadn't sat up at night, tossing and turning because her relationship was over. She'd understood. For him, she'd understood.

Then, the trinkets began to come every other away match, then once a month, once every few months, and then they stopped coming. The last remnant of their once-sacred tradition still sat on her fridge. He'd brought it back after an unremarkable league tie against Nice. A little magnet in the shape of a palm tree, in the colours of the French flag, with two words on it.

Trés Nice!

What did that even mean? Neither of them were sure. She loved it.

After that, however, the keyrings, and magnets, and bottle openers, and t-shirts, and pens had suddenly stopped. Not trés Nice!

The bath was full, the bubble bath she'd added working a treat. Slowly, she eased herself into the warm water, sighing as she settled back in the tub. She didn't even have her phone but she really didn't care. For what must have been an hour, she stared out the window at the city below her. From his castle, she watched his kingdom, knowing she didn't have a place in it anymore.

She stared at the dark streets they used to haunt, giggling hand in hand as they snook out of their apartment for late-night strolls (though it was always technically morning) down streets that at any other hour would be packed with hundreds of people, pointing at Kylian. Or when they used to go to tourist attractions in the middle of the winter and he'd pull on a balaclava, dragging her up the Eiffel Tower or the Champs Elysees, insisting her liked the thrill. In truth, so did she.

She liked standing hand in hand with him, knowing the crowds around them had no idea Kylian Mbappé was in their midst, and they never would because he was her Kylian. For that moment, at least.

It was late when she heard the door downstairs, the security system blaring loudly. She didn't panic, as it quickly turned off. He didn't say a word on his arrival. She could hear him drawing closer to their bedroom, his feet heavy on the stairs, in the hallway, in their room, approaching the bathroom door.

She thought he'd let his guard down when they first met, telling her his worries and fears, but maybe he only truly knocked down his walls that night in the bathroom months ago, showing his true self.

Maybe she only truly got to know him after Qatar, when he really snapped. When she'd tried to comfort him and he'd yelled at her because she'd never truly understand what he was going through. She'd told him she was sorry. She'd apologised. For what? She still wasn't quite sure.

Maybe she only truly knew Kylian when she'd been struggling at work, doing overtime to catch up on her ridiculous workload at home. She'd missed his match and he'd lost; then, when he returned home and she hadn't been in the mood for kisses and cuddles, he'd been furious. He'd said it was her fault she was stressed- she'd brought it on herself. She could quit her job any day and never worry about money again. She'd tried to explain but he couldn't comprehend her need for self-reliance. If anything, he was insulted that she didn't trust him enough to let him take care of her. He'd never been overly traditional or had an obviously fragile masculinity but that night she'd questioned everything she thought she knew about him.

Of course, he'd apologised the next morning and she'd forgiven him. They were both stressed and there was no reason to let one pressure-fueled spat escalate into more than it needed to. Then those one-off spats became more and more common until they were the norm. If they weren't in silence, they were fighting.

They only found peace when they were fucking. Even that physicality wasn't what it once was, no longer the same slow, gentle love-making. Now it was always quick, desperate, his once soft kisses now left bruises and his whispers of sweet nothings had morphed into wordless grunts and moans.

Is that all this relationship was anymore? Physical.

Light flooded the dimly-lit bathroom, as he swung the door open carelessly. He looked almost taken back at the sight of her, his eyebrows raising a little, as though he hadn't expected to see her here- in her own house.

Then again, maybe it wasn't her house. Sure, she'd lived here for almost as long as they'd been together but it was never really her house. It was Kylian's house in Kylian's city, and she was here too.

He stared at her for a few seconds before smirking, "Hey." he mumbled, already stripping down to join her.

She sunk further down in the tub, allowing the thick layer of bubbles to give her back her modesty. Silently, she watched him, her lips a flat line, her eyes on his face, not his naked body. He wasn't looking back at her. He was too focused on hastily ripping of his trousers and his shirt.

Without hesitation or any more words exchanged, he climbed in the tub and she leant forward as he slipped behind her. She wanted to be held in his arms just one more time, to feel his body against hers. He positioned his legs on either side of her, his arms flopping over her shoulders, as he pulled her back into his chest. Resting his face on her shoulder, he let out a noise, somewhere between a contented hum and a whine.

She ignored him, turning her head to stare out of the window. The city's skyline was dark and at this time, the tower's lights were off. Now, it was just a dark silhouette against a dark horizon, only made visible by the bright light of the full moon.

"What are you sulking about?"

As he spoke, she could smell the alcohol on his breath and she almost wretched at the scent. Her voice was calm and steady, as she asked, "Where have you been?"

Her voice sounded like she had an innocent curiosity in the question as if she didn't already know the answer, or she was merely asking to make small talk.

"Oh, some of the team wanted to go out to celebrate the win."

He didn't lift his head from her shoulder, placing a soft kiss on the damp skin. He lied with such ease. Well, he hadn't entirely lied, just withheld some important elements of the truth. Maybe she'd have preferred it if he'd just lied to her. At least then he would have had to make a conscious effort to deceive her. No, this felt so much worse; he spoke with such ease, as though it was the whole truth, and maybe he too believed it. Maybe he believed that she didn't need to know about the girl in the red dress, just like he'd believed she didn't need a text back, or a kiss goodbye before he left the house this morning, or a goodnight before she fell asleep last night or the night before that or the night before that.

"And who was that girl?" she asked, her voice still chirpy, not a hint of bitterness showing in her tone.

"Huh?" he twisted his head, the side of it on her shoulder, gazing up at her face.

"The girl you were with. She was in a red dress, like the one I have. Blonde hair and-"

"Oh," he cut her off quickly, "she's one of Ousmane's friends, I think."

"You think?"

"Mhm, I don't really know. I didn't speak to her that much."

Now, that wasn't a half-truth, that was simply a lie.

"Oh, okay. Just 'cause you seemed really friendly with her."

He scoffed, lifting his head, his tone suddenly switching, "What, were you stalking me?"

"No, but you didn't reply to my texts and you came home seven hours after the match finished, so I wanted to make sure you weren't dead in some ditch."

"Of course, I wasn't. Can I not have a night out with my friends?"

"Yeah, that's fine but you didn't fucking text me back and the next thing I see you've got some random girl in your lap at the club and you don't even have the courtesy to tell me about it."

"It wasn't like that! Why would I come home and tell my girlfriend that some nobody had been coming onto me in the club?" he snapped.

"Because you were coming onto her too! Don't you think I deserved to be warned that people were going to post pictures of my boyfriend with someone else! It's fucking humiliating!"

She stood up and climbed out of the bath, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. She quickly grabbed her robe from where it hung and wrap it around herself. She sat on the little ottoman in the corner, hugging her arms around herself.

"What are you saying? You know I wouldn't cheat on you!"

He yelled the statement as though it were a fact. Maybe he believed it. He seemed to believe a lot of things. Maybe he just didn't think about her perspective much.

"No, I don't! What reason have you given me to trust you?"

His face fell into an expression of fury, "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know, Kylian!" she almost yelled and almost sighed, somewhere in the middle, "I don't know. What are we even doing this for?"

"You tell me! You're the one picking a fight for no reason!"

"No, not this just... why are we here? We keep fighting and I don't know what for."

He stood up, "What..."

"I'm not happy! You're not happy! What's the point!"

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he rushed over to her, "I'm happy, of course I am!"

"Well, I'm not." she murmured, standing up from the seat and heading for the bathroom door.

"What are you doing, where are you going?" he asked, panic setting over him.

"Away," she muttered, heading to the closet.

"No, you're not." he declared, chasing after her, "Look, baby, I'm sorry, okay?" Ignoring him, she began to change into some joggers and a hoodie. "Y/n, you're not leaving me."

"Why not? All we ever do is fight! There's no point in us being together if we make each other fucking miserable!"

"I told you, you make me happy! You make me happier than anyone else in the world!"

"Why don't you treat me like it then? Why don't you treat me like I'm worth anything? Like I'm a fucking human being!"

He was quiet, watching her as she grabbed a bag and started to toss clothes into it. "Y/n, I love you. I-"

"Do you, though? Really?"

"I do. Look I know I've been busy with work but you know how stressful my job is. I'm trying to be here for you and do my best for the team-"

"No, you're not. I know how hard you work but I have needs too. I can't keep doing this."

She dropped to her knees, zipping up the bag, packed with enough clothes for a few days. He stood in the doorway, blocking her exit as she tried to get her toothbrush from the bathroom.

As she stood in front of him, he took her hands in his, "Please, baby, I'll change. I'll do it for you, I swear."

"It's too late, Ky," she said, shoving past him. He didn't budge, "Kylian, get out of my way."

He clutched her hands as though his life depended on it, placing soft kisses on both of them, "I need you. You can't leave me."

"You should have thought about that before, shouldn't you?"

She shoved him out of the way and grabbed a few things from the bathroom before heading for the front door. He chased after her, his mind racing and his heart pumping a mile a minute in his chest. He swore it was working so hard he could hear his heartbeat in his ears- or was it the sound of her feet on the stairs?

"Y/n," God, her name sounded so right on his lips, he wanted to say her name forevermore, "she meant nothing. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have entertained her like that." Tears were forming in his hazel eyes, he watched her putting on her shoes, "Y/n, you can't leave me, I love you. I- I don't want to live without you. I don't want to be on my own."

"Kylian," she stood up and cupped his cheek. Her hand was so warm and fit so perfectly around his face, as though it was moulded just for it, "you know I'll always love you."

Covering her hand with his own, he shook his head, a single tear rolling down his cheek, "Don't do this to me, amour."

She hated seeing him like this: he barely ever cried. In all of their time together, she'd seen him cry maybe four times and it had never been because of her.

Her soft thumb wiped away the tear, "Don't cry. You'll be okay."

Then she was gone. The door was open and then it was closed. She was there and then she was gone.

He watched the space she'd been stood in for far too long, as though she'd swing the door open at any moment and declare that she'd had a sudden change of heart. But she wouldn't.

She was gone. It was over.

Masterlist

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

For Never Have I Ever, nude model Peeta, please!

Well. I've written stripper Peeta, and half naked Firefighter Peeta posing for calendars, but not exactly this trope? So here's a little something? Maybe? I dunno, I feel kinda indifferent about this one, but that might just be me in a funk. Hopefully you all enjoy it!

Never Have I Ever

<3 kdnfb

RATED E: explicit language, nudity, mild sexual content (sort of?)

“God, I’m so tired of drawing dicks,” the girl in the front row mutters and Peeta has to bite back a laugh. She makes his job difficult sometimes, but he honestly looks forward to hearing the girl’s supremely snarky remarks whenever he models for this class.

And tonight, he needs it. The slowly growing ache in his back tells him he’s been posing for longer than normal. Without breaking pose, he tries to catch Annie’s eye, but she’s distracted. Standing on the top level of the terraced classroom, she’s engrossed in a discussion with one of her students, who keeps gesturing towards Peeta and then tilting his head as if trying to make sense of his own drawing.

Peeta tries not to smile or laugh. His own days of trying to make sense of human anatomy aren’t so long ago that he’s already forgotten the frustrations, or the hilarity that sometimes ends up on the page.

Still, Annie not paying attention stresses him out. He only agreed to model tonight because his favorite former professor was in a jam. The model she had scheduled backed out just yesterday, and she’d practically begged Peeta to fill in, promising class wouldn’t go over time by even a second. He should’ve known better. He took this class with Annie, only a few years ago, and it rarely released on time. Not only that, but because it’s an evening class, Annie almost always lets students linger to ask questions or touch up their work, sometimes forgetting the models altogether.

He bites the inside of his cheek and tries not to freak out about the fact that he’s supposed to be somewhere thirty minutes after this class ends. He has an extremely important dinner date tonight.

“Did I say something amusing?” Front row asks, and Peeta’s not sure it’s even aimed at him until she goes on. “One of these nights, I’m going to break you and get you to laugh. I can tell you want to.”

He fights with his face, forcing his expression into neutrality, and she scoffs.

“Obviously you’re not tired of whipping it out for a bunch of strangers to examine proportions and crap. You’ve modeled for us how many times now?” Peeta hears paper flipping and bites harder into his cheek to keep from smiling. “Ten classes. I’ve got ten classes worth of drawings of your dick and your ass. Christ, if I wasn’t constantly shoving my tongue in her pussy, my girlfriend might actually start to get jealous of you.”

Peeta stays silent, as he’s expected to, but it takes some doing. He’s thought before about talking to the smart mouthed brunette after class. For non-romantic reasons, obviously. He’s completely taken, for one. Two, she obviously is as well. This isn’t the first time she’s mentioned a girlfriend. But she seems like she’d be a lot of fun to hang out with, like maybe their senses of humor could vibe together pretty well.

“Ugh stop complaining, Jo. Just ask Madge to pose nude for you one night. Then you can draw all the tits and pussy you want,” her neighbor mutters. The stunning blonde, who is probably a model of some kind herself, normally sits in the back row, but Peeta noticed her moving her things to the front row when he came out from the back room to take his first position on the dais. “I, for one, prefer it when Blondie here is our model. You gotta admit, if we have to draw a plethora of penises, his is rather nice to look at.”

“Ugh. Straights. Can you make it any more awkward for the poor penis poser?”

“And I thought you’d appreciate the variety of… bodily representation,” the blonde presses forward. Peeta feels his cheeks heating slightly at the reference to his leg.

“Still didn’t ask you. And what the fuck?” Snarky brunette snaps.

“Everything all right down here? Johanna? Cashmere?” Annie’s voice approaches and Peeta tries not to let his shoulders slouch in relief. But it’s short lived. “Oh, nice work on the shading this week, Johanna. And… Cashmere… it’s always interesting when students show some artistic creativity.”

Peeta wonders what that means, and can feel his skin flushing with even more heat, especially when Annie moves on and Johanna cackles a little. At least he knows their names now? Normally, being naked in front of a group of art students like this doesn’t bother him, but Annie is rarely shocked by what students produce. So Peeta is both massively curious and massively afraid of what Cashmere may have drawn.

“Alright, pencils down,” Annie announces, and her words are met with a flurry of activity as students hurry to pack their things. For his part, Peeta slips off the platform and shrugs into his robe as he’s leaving the classroom. He sneaks a glance at the clock on the wall and curses under his breath, making a beeline for the back changing room where he left his clothes and his phone.

Once he’s got his shorts on, Peeta snatches up his phone. He’s technically not late yet, so there’s nothing from Katniss. He fires off a quick text to her.

Had to help out a friend. Took longer than promised. Gonna be a few minutes late. I’ll pay for any appetizers you and your friends want until I get there.

You know how dangerous it is to tell me to order what I want…

Peeta smiles when the answer comes in quickly. He’s busy typing a response and distracted.

“Oh! Peeta! I thought you’d be dressed by now,” Annie says, stepping back and whipping the curtain closed between them again.

“Got distracted,” Peeta says and sits on the chair to get his pants on over his prosthetic. “Did you need something?”

“Um, well… I was wondering if you could do this again in two weeks? It pays double.”

Peeta pauses and hangs his head, remembering the syllabus enough to know what happens in two weeks.

Pairs. He’ll be modeling with another person, usually in intimate or amorous poses. Normally he wouldn’t care a lick about it, and would jump at the chance to bring in that much money for an hour or two of work. But last time, several of the poses were intensely erotic. Even if they weren’t, he’s not sure how Katniss would react to him doing that.

His cheeks burn and he yanks on more of his clothing as he admits to himself that he has no idea what Katniss would think of any of this. She knows that he does modeling work for art students, across several mediums, but he never really mentioned that it often involves him being naked or only partially clothed.

“I’ll um… I’ll think about it,” Peeta tells her and finishes getting dressed. “When do you need to know?”

“The sooner the better,” she says as he opens the curtain. She smiles at him and reaches up to fix his hair. “Good luck, tonight.”

“Thanks,” he says and leans forward so she can kiss his cheek. “Tell Finnick I said he’s a puffed up merman reject.”

She laughs and shakes her head, but Peeta’s smiling as he leaves. It’s kind of their weird thing, him and Annie’s husband, trading whacky insults they don’t necessarily mean.

He checks his phone again as he’s leaving the building, cursing under his breath and picking up his pace, hoping he hasn’t missed the bus, because then he’ll be forced to wait fifteen minutes for the next one. He’s already going to be a few minutes late.

When he reaches the bus stop, it’s empty, and just up the street, he can see the taillights. Smacking his fist on the panel advertising some kind of energy drink, Peeta curses and pulls his phone back out to text Katniss.

****

“I need something not phallic shaped to eat, right the fuck now,” Johanna announces as she flops into the booth and Katniss smiles at the second, and the last, of her friends to arrive. She taps her phone to send her reply to her boyfriend’s frantic apology text and sets it aside to focus on her friend.

“Would you stop complaining?” Madge teases and waves towards what’s left of the stuffed mushrooms they ordered. “You know you love that class.”

“You love anything that involves nudity,” Katniss reminds Johanna, and Jo snorts.

“Unless it involves dick overload.”

“You don’t have to act so disgusted, you know? It’s not going to gain you any brownie points,” Madge says and pushes her glasses up her nose with one finger. “We’re all fully aware of your sexual history.”

“You handed out Cliff’s Notes the first day of our friendship,” Katniss jokes and Johanna shrugs.

“I felt like you could learn some valuable lessons from my experience.” Katniss averts her gaze and spins her straw in her water glass. “Wait… I know that look. Fuck, no. Katniss!”

“What?” Katniss whines and Johanna glares at her.

“Tell me you’ve at least moved past kissing with him?” Madge chokes on air and Johanna’s gaze darts between Katniss and her girlfriend. “Oh my god you haven’t.”

“We’re taking things slow!”

“But why?” Johanna asks through gritted teeth. “You’ve been aggravatingly horny for this one for months now.”

“He’s had his hand under my shirt,” Katniss admits and Johanna shakes her head, moaning a sound that can only be called pained.

“Let her go at her own pace,” Madge says and soothingly rubs Johanna’s back.

“I can’t. At this rate, she’ll be in menopause before she gets dicked down.”

Madge rolls her eyes and Katniss purses her lips, fighting back annoyance at her friend’s insistence that Katniss have sex with Peeta already. 

She could tell Johanna that the last time they went on a date, they’d wound up in a secluded spot where heated kissing led to her unfastening her jeans so Peeta’s fingers could slide into her panties. She could tell Johanna how thrilling and terrifying it was, kissing him and whimpering into his mouth when he whispered questions to her. All she could manage were yes or no answers, but it was enough. She’d shattered on Peeta’s fingers and clung to his jacket, buried her face in his neck and moaned in exquisite relief as the pleasure unfurled inside her.

But she won’t tell Johanna, because Katniss refuses to let her friend demean or cheapen what had been a beautiful experience to Katniss. Her entire body heats to unbearable as she remembers the way Peeta had slid his fingers from her and whispered in her ear that, if she’d allow it, he wanted to taste her orgasm. That if they were at her place or his, he’d be on his knees, begging for the privilege of burying his face between her thighs and kissing her until he’s drowning in her orgasms.

“Can we not be talking about my sex life when Peeta gets here? Please?”

“Do you even know what a dick looks like?” Johanna asks and Madge rises to Katniss’s defense. “No, I’m serious. Have you even seen one before? As in, not a drawing in a health textbook or hospital pamphlet your mother made you read, but an actual, real dick.”

“Of course I have,” Katniss lies. Johanna can tell, lifting one eyebrow and scoffing. “Alright fine, no. I haven’t. What’s wrong with that?”

“Hold on. We’ll try baby steps. Not to brag, but my anatomically correct drawing skills fucking rock,” Johanna says and starts rummaging in her bag. “And this guy who keeps modeling for my human form class has got a choice looking dick, not gonna lie.”

“Thought you were tired of drawing dicks?” Madge asks, smirking and sipping her drink. Johanna glances up at her girlfriend and leans forward to kiss her on the mouth.

“So tired of drawing dicks.”

“Again, can you not be making me look at porn when my boyfriend shows up here?”

“It’s not porn, it’s art,” Johanna states in a snotty voice. “Besides, unless you’ve somehow found the unicorn of a man whose libido is as glacial as yours, I have to question a dude who is willing to meet your two best friends before he’s even so much as touched or seen your pussy.”

Katniss schools her facial features into a bored expression, but she must be off her game, because Johanna’s jaw drops and she makes an indignant sound.

“You’re holding something back! What happened? What did you do with him?”

Thankfully, Katniss is saved from answering in that moment by the sight of her boyfriend walking into the restaurant.

“Shut up and behave yourself, Johanna. He’s here,” Katniss says and walks ten feet away to greet him. Far enough that Madge and Johanna won’t be able to see them from where they’re seated. She’s not even a little ashamed when she slides her arms over his shoulders and melts into his embrace.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“I’m just glad you made it,” Katniss says. 

There was a part of her that worried that Johanna was right. That Peeta wouldn’t be willing to face the inquisition her friends would undoubtedly put him through when they still haven’t even slept together yet. She shivers slightly when his lips graze over her neck, awakening the hunger she’s felt more and more often around Peeta.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she admits only to herself that part of the reason she’s been putting off having sex with Peeta isn’t because she’s afraid it won’t be good enough, but because she’s terrified it will be so good. So very, incredibly good that she’ll be irrevocably changed by it. That she’d be handing Peeta the power to absolutely destroy her if it turns out he doesn’t care for her as much as she cares for him.

“Ready?” she asks and Peeta releases her. He’s smiling, and Katniss takes that as a good sign. He knows how important her friends are to her. Katniss takes his hand and walks with him back to the booth. 

Johanna is showing something to Madge, a stack of what look like drawings.

“Peeta, these are my two closest friends,” she starts the introductions.

“Oh my sweet fuck,” Johanna says when she looks up, and Madge spits out her drink, barely catching it in her hand over her mouth.

"Not on my homework!" Johanna says and yanks the pages up against her chest.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Peeta mutters.