#like hey remember! there’s an opt-out button! you don’t have to keep doing this!

[diffenbachiae]

trying to get sober is like ‘my heart hurts my childhood wasnt my fault but i carry the guilt of it everywhere i just want to be human i just want to feel safe’ and being high is like ‘beep boop POKIE mons. i love doing the dishes and sweeping the floor’. you tell me which sounds like more of a vibe

[abbatoirablaze]

Behind Closed Doors, Chapter 7

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings:  cursing, slight angst, angry Chris Evans. 

“Fuck!”

“Hey...what’s wrong?”

You turned; eyes wide as you looked at your boyfriend.  He glanced over your shoulder and saw a picture of him pushing the covered stroller with you on TMZ.

“Is that...”

“Yeah...”

“How did they-”

“I don’t know!” you proclaimed, cutting him off, “Sebastian...what are we going to do?”

He sat down beside you on the couch and looked at the laptop.  You had come across the article by chance.

‘Mystery woman with Gossip Girl star, Sebastian Stan’ the title read.  The caption below it said ‘Actor Sebastian Stan ferrying mystery woman and a set of children around set of Kings.  Secret love children?’

“Shit...baby.  I didn’t know that anyone was around.  You know how I feel about paparazzi.” he frowned, “and you know that I wouldn’t have brought the kids on set if I knew something was going on.  We’re careful about it on Gossip Girl…I-I thought that Kings would be the same way.”

“I got a pretty angry voicemail from Chris about it already,” you admitted, biting your lip, “he doesn’t want the kids to be photographed.  And if I’m being honest, I’m pretty nervous about it too…what if people really start asking questions?”

“I know,” he replied, “which was a reason why we originally opted for the covered stroller.  So, the twins wouldn’t be seen.” 

“I tried to tell him that in a text, but he didn’t want to hear it.  Apparently just seeing the stroller was enough for him to call,” you frowned, “he’s blowing up my phone…and I really don’t want to deal with that call back to him today…”

“He’s just trying to push your buttons (Y/N).”

“Well, it’s working,” you sighed, “I feel like the only time he reaches out is to bitch at me about how I’m raising the twins.  I mean, he never asks how they’re doing.  He missed their birthday party when they turned one because he was busy filming somewhere…I mean, Scott and his sisters always check in…and his mom messages me saying that she misses the babies.  But both of his parents were here for their birthday party…he’s the only one not invested in them unless he’s complaining.”

“I can call him if you want!”

Your eyes widened and you were quick to shut your laptop and push it to the side, “Sebastian, no.  The last thing I need is for Chris to start freaking out because of how involved you are with the twins lives already.  Remember last month when he called because his mom saw that the twins got a haircut?”

“In all fairness, I apologized for leaving my trimmer out...i didn’t think Johnny would get up there on the counter.”

“That boy is an escape artist I’m telling you!” you sighed, laughing at the memory, “he’s only one and he managed to somehow get past the baby gates.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS, (Y/N),” Chris growled across the video call, “my mom said that Johnny has a buzzcut.  Why does a toddler have a buzzcut?  Last time I’d gotten pictures from you his hair was over his ears.”

“You were telling me that I should take him to get a haircut anyways, Chris,” you tried, “I don’t understand why you’re so upset.  You said that he was starting to look like more of a girl than Shayla was because of how long his hair is getting.”

“First off, because you didn’t consult me on it,” he growled, his frustration visible even over the internet call, “secondly, because it wasn’t planned.  You had to take him to get a haircut after he got into Sebastian’s grooming supplies-”

“It was an accident, Chris.”

“He left his beard trimmer out,” he growled, “what if Johnny actually hurt himself, huh?”

“He left it in our master bathroom,” you reasoned, “Johnny crawled up the stairs and scaled the baby gate while I was giving Shayla a bath.  And Sebastian was making dinner so-”

“He should have been keeping an eye on him.  Or you should have.  What if he fell down the stairs when he was trying to climb the baby gate?” Chris asked, “This could have been a serious injury, (Y/N)!”

“I know, Chris…but the twins don’t like sharing bath time anymore and Sebastian said tha-“

“Sebastian’s not their father, I AM!”

“THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD ACT LIKE IT,” You yelled into your phone, “YOU NEVER SEE THEM.  YOU NEVER CALL THEM.  YOU MISSED THEIR BIRTHDAY PARTY FOR CH-“

“I WAS FILMING!” He screamed back.  You felt a hand on your shoulder and you looked at your boyfriend.  He sighed and gave you a knowing look.

“I-I don’t want to start another screaming match, Chris…” you sighed after another second, sniffling back your tears. 

You could hear his heavy sigh on the other side of the line, “Me either…”

“I know I messed up, Chris…”   

“The point is our son cut all his hair off because you and your boyfriend couldn’t keep an eye on him.” He reiterated, “and I wasn’t even told about it…my mom told me when she saw him at the party.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to fight.”

“Well I need you to be smart enough to acknowledge that you and your boy toy almost got my son hurt!”

“Fuck you, Chris!” you growled, hanging up on him.  You watched as his name popped up on your phone once more, and you threw it away from yourself on the couch, not wanting to deal with him for the time being. 

“You okay?”

You sighed in anger, not realizing that you had started to cry, you were surprised when Sebastian handed Johnny off to you and your baby boy started wiping the tears away.

“No cry...mama...no.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you sighed, grabbing his small, chubby hands, “it’s okay, baby.  Mama is okay.  She just-she just is a little sad.”

“Nooo!” he cooed, reaching out to you so that he could grab your face in his little hands, “no mama.”

“It’s okay, baby!”

“Well, he’s right,” your boyfriend said playfully as he sat down with a sleepy Shayla snuggling into him, “we don’t want you to be sad.”

You sighed again and leaned into his free side. 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and Johnny crawled between the two of you, snuggling up as well. 

“You okay?” he asked after a few minutes. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sebastian...” you nodded, “you’ve done so much for us...”

“I’m just doing what any man should!” he said simply, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head, “don’t pay attention to what anyone says about how we’re raising the kids...you’re doing an amazing job, baby...”

“I needed to hear that!” you admitted, snuggling into his side, “thank you, Sebastian...for always being so caring and protecting...and loving.”

“I’ll always protect you, baby.”

“I did it!”

Your brow raised as you looked at him, “What did you do?”

He only smiled as he sat down his laptop in front of you.  You could see a picture, and it looked like someone had superimposed the image so that there were two of him.

“What is this?” you asked curiously, “what did you do, Sebastian?”

But he only smiled, “the answer to all of our problems with the paparazzi.”

“What?”

“I talked to a few of the girls...and the pr team, and we came up with the most amazing plan,” he smiled, “we convinced the world that they didn’t see the person they thought they were seeing.”

“Huh?”

“I’m a twin!”

“Shut up, no you’re not!” you laughed. 

He pushed the laptop closer to you, and you looked more intricately at the page.

‘Seeing Double:  actor Sebastian Stan has a twin!’ 

“Read it!” he encouraged.

“Sebastian, this is obviously a fake picture,” you laughed, “no one is going to buy this.”

“Read it!” he repeated.

“Actor Sebastian Stan came clean last week when we posted a picture of what we thought was him with a mystery woman and a stroller, but as it turns out, Sebastian Stan is not Sebastian at all,” you began, reading the story in disbelief, “Sebastian...what did you-”

“Keep reading.”

You sighed, shaking your head as you looked at the next paragraph, “the Romanian born actor is actually a twin.  And his name is not Sebastian Stan, either.  Sebastian Stan is the combination of both of their names.  Sebastian, is actually just Seb Stan, while Bastian is a happily taken man with two children, living a quiet life in upstate New York.”

You gasped.

He smiled, “Keep going, baby.”

“We got to meet Seb’s brother last week when he came up with the kids to visit his brother, and girlfriend, Seb’s personal assistant, commented co-star Blake Lively,” you read on, “we were surprised to find out about his brother, and didn’t really believe his personal assistant for a while, about Bastian or the twins, but it’s hard to ignore it when you have two people who look like your co-star in the same room, and two babies calling one of them da da.”

Your eyes went between him and the laptop, your mouth parting, but no words leaving your lips.  You read the rest of the article and how it talked about how you and ‘Bastian,’ had met through mutual friends and you’d taken the job with Seb after he needed help maintaining his schedule.  But then it also went on to say that ‘Bastian’ was deeply private, and preferred that he stay out of the media because of his finance career.

“I told you that I’d always protect you baby,” he offered, reaching out to stroke your hand, “And it took me a while, but I did come up with that...and people are buying it.” 

“How did you get people to go along with it?”

“Well, Blake was an easy sell,” he smiled, “anyone that’s met you, really.  Everyone loves you, baby...and they want to protect you and the kids as much as I do.”

You felt your stomach turning at the thought.  Bile rose up in the back of your throat.

“Sebastian...th-there’s something that I should tell you...”

His brows furrowed, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“I-”

But you froze, your eyes going wide when your son toddled into the living room, babbling while holding onto a piece of plastic.

“Hey...whatcha got, buddy?” Sebastian asked, reaching out for the plastic that Johnny was holding onto.

“Oh no...”

“Baby, what’s this?” Sebastian asked slowly as he pulled the stick from his hands.  He looked at it for a second, and then it was like everything clicked.  He held it up, the little lines facing you, “i-is this a pregnancy test?”

You nodded slowly, biting your bottom lip as your boyfriend examined it. 

“Ye-yeah...it is...”

“Baby...ar-are you pregnant?”

Chapter 8

[rayslittlekitten]

I Almost Told You That I Loved You Ch. 13

Chapter 12 | IATYTILY Masterlist | Chapter 14

A/N: This is a critical chapter and I'm happy with how this came out. The direction of where I need to take this to get to the end is getting clearer for me.

Rating: T

Word Count: ~1,900

Pairing: Jax Teller x F! reader

Plot: This takes place shortly after Tara leaves Charming. You start working at Teller-Morrow and an unlikely and messy relationship forms between you and Jax.

Contains: lots of cursing, mentions of abuse, insecurities, triggering moments, bonding moments

You hear a vehicle pull up to your house. You look out the window to make sure it’s him and sure enough, you recognize Gemma’s car. No bike again. After checking yourself in the mirror one last time and grabbing your purse, you open the front door and you’re surprised to find Jax with his fist up, ready to knock on the door. What surprised you next is seeing him in a white button down shirt slightly too big on him with the top button open, baggy black jeans and of course, his white sneakers. At least his shirt is tucked in, but he could have left the flashy SAMCRO belt at home.

He notices you checking out his outfit and breaks the ice.

“Yeah, yeah. I know, I know.” He nervously slicks his hair back. “Can you please not say anything about it? I feel like a fucking dork in this shirt. I borrowed it from Ope because I don’t have anything formal.”

“You look nice,” you compliment.

“Definitely not as nice as you.” He looks you up and down, whistling while admiring the new dress.

It’s probably the sexiest thing you’ve ever worn. The spaghetti strap mini dress ends at the top of your thighs, flaring out slightly. You opted for thigh high socks, heeled loafers, a black velvet choker and minimal make up to tie the whole look. 

“Thank you.” You do a little curtsy. 

***

He was right about the tablecloths, candles and all that romantic shit, but never in a million years did you think he was taking you to Dale & Conti’s Ristorante. Fancy doesn’t even begin to describe this place. The fact that Jax was even able to get a reservation in itself is impressive.

While waiting by the host stand, you scan the place and it’s just as you remembered it. Dark wooden panels line the walls, booths are upholstered with red leather seats and tabletops are draped with crisp white table clothes. Crystal chandeliers hang high above from the exposed rafters which match the stained hardwood floors. The white ceiling, skylights and soft lighting offset the dark colors. The interior seems a little outdated, but it’s clean and a very classic look. Dale & Conti’s is one of the oldest establishments in Charming and it’s why people keep coming back. All sorts of people love coming here, usually to celebrate a big milestone like birthday, anniversary or graduation, but their regular patrons are ones with big money. There are even rumors that the mob uses it as a front. 

The last time you were here was the start of a dream that turned out to be a nightmare and you’re hoping this isn’t an omen.

“Hey, you okay?” Jax asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“Yeah.” The corner of your lips turn up to underline your affirmation.

“How’d you get a table here?” You ask curiously. “You gotta reserve months in advance.”

“I have my ways,” he winks.

“Right this way!” The host shows you and Jax the way.

***

“What the hell is… you know what? I’m not even going to try to pronounce that,” Jax laughs while looking at the menu. “I’m not used to these kinds of places. Spaghetti and meatballs it is. What are you getting?”

“The mushroom risotto here is really good. I think I’ll get that,” you answer after scanning through the menu.

“You’ve been here before?” He seems quite surprised.

“Yeah. The only other time I’ve been here was my first date with my ex. We actually sat in there.” You point to a closed off section.

Jax looks over to where you’re pointing.

“Isn’t that like the VIP section?”

“Yeah. His family likes to come here a lot,” you tell him but now you’re on high alert, hoping you don’t run into any of them, but particularly your ex.

“Really?” he asks with wide eyes. “His family must be loaded.”

“Yeah, they are,” you confirm.

“You’ve never really talked about your ex.”

“You want me to talk about my ex on our date?”

“Why not?” He shrugs and then grabs a warm piece of bread from the basket in the middle of the table.

“You know the rule. You’re not supposed to talk about your exes on a date.”

“Rule? What rule? Besides, rules are meant to be broken,” he says before taking a bite of his bread.

“So you’ve talked about your ex before on dates?”

“No, because I usually don’t go on dates.”

Fair but interesting point.

"I know, so I find it strange that we are on our second one," you point out.

"Figured I'd try something new," he shrugs.

“Okay. How about this? I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours,” you bargain as you reach in for your own piece of soft pillowy bread.

“20 questions, huh?” Jax smirks and you return the smile. “Is this what people always do on dates?”

“To get to know each other? Yes,” you nod, slightly amused. “You and Tara didn’t go on dates?”

Jax shoves a piece of buttered bread into his mouth, chewing while deciding how much he wants to share. 

“I mean, sure, if you count cutting school and sneaking into the movie theater to make out,” he shrugs.

“How romantic,” you say sarcastically.

“Hey, I was romantic,” he rebuts. “I once beat this kid up because he called her a biker slut. Matthew Boyd didn’t even dare to look her way since then.”

“How chivalrous of you,” you comment while picking at your bread.

“Yeah. I’m keeping it alive,” he nods.

“Keeping what alive?” you tilt your head peculiarly.

“Chivalry. It ain’t dead yet,” he smirks and you can’t help but smile at his joke either.

“So, what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“To you and Tara,” you reply.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, his playful demeanor changing. ”She wanted to go to San Diego to be a doctor and wanted me to go with her, but what the hell was I going to do there? My family, my club is here, where I belong. She didn’t understand this life. Thought she was too good for it.”

You notice the twitching of his jaw and you know it’s not from him chewing on the bread which he is clearly done with as you watch him mangle it in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Jax. I didn’t mean to–” 

As if on cue, the waiter cuts the tension lingering in the air.

“Hi, my name is Lin and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear our specials?”

After you and Jax put in your orders, Jax shifts the attention to you.

“So what about your ex? What was he like?”

“Well, Wes was very charming and everyone loved him. Girls wanted to be with him, guys wanted to be him. He was president of the debate team and the salutatorian of our graduating class,” you start.

“A what?”

“Salutatorian? Oh, he was the second best of the class,” you explain.

“You were at the top, weren’t you? Using all these SAT words and shit,” Jax chuckles and shifts in his seat. You sense his discomfort returning.

“God, no! Far from it,” you laugh. “But anyways, I fell in love with him and he made me believe we’d be together forever. I know, dumb.” You roll your eyes.

“It’s not dumb,” he shakes his head. “And then what happened?”

“And then… he made me feel like…” You think for a moment how to put it into words, feeling the dread in your chest creeping in.

“He made me feel so small, like I was the stupidest, most worthless and unlovable person in the world even after I gave him everything.” You quietly sniffle and quickly suppress your tears from emerging. “Did things I was not proud of.”

Jax reaches over and places his hand over yours, his thumb caressing you. 

“Hey, we all do dumb shit for love,” he comments.    

You show him a tight lipped smile.

“But it doesn’t sound like what you did was for love because he clearly didn’t love you. He was a prick.”

“No, he just loved controlling me. He isolated me and made me feel so alone, like I had nobody. And when he got bored of me, he tossed me to the curb,” you shrug and take a sip of your water to take a moment to gather yourself.

“Fuck that guy. Guys like him make their status their whole personality because that’s all they have. The only way they feel like they have any power is to make other people feel like they’re beneath them, especially nice girls like you,” he adds.

Your heart softens and your smile widens. This is certainly something you didn’t expect to hear from Jax, but it’s actually sweet and refreshing.

“You’re the kind of girl you bring home to your mom. You’re a good girl,” he nods.

As quickly as he was able to lower your guard, two words instantly put it right back up. You suddenly feel queasy.

“Are you okay?” Jax asks, concerned.

You push the intrusive thoughts out of your head and keep the anxiety at bay.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m fine,” you shake your head. “What if I want to be a bad girl tonight?” you ask coyly, taking control of the conversation again.

A wide smirk plays on Jax’s face.

The dinner goes smoothly as both of you are having a low key, genuine good time, enjoying your meals and each other’s company while talking about anything and everything under the sun. You both decide to skip dessert and when it’s time to leave, your eyes go wide when you see Jax pull out a few hundred dollar bills to pay for the check. You don’t want to think about where that money came from. You know he’s not making that kind of money servicing cars and bikes. You offered to cover some of the bill, but he insists on paying for all of it.

“Keep the change,” he tells the server.

As you both get up to leave, there’s an audible scoff coming from a nearby table.

“When did they start letting the riff raff in here?” 

Both you and Jax turn to the person who said it. They are clearly referring to Jax. He stalks over to the table and you quickly follow him.

“Hey, we got business, motherfucker?” Jax asks.

You latch onto Jax’s arm and try to pull him away.

“Come on, let’s go. It’s not worth it,” you tell him.

“Is there a problem, sir?” the manager steps in.

“Yes, this thug is harassing me!” the man at the table exclaims.

“I’m sure this is all just a misunderstanding,” the manager says. “We will comp your meal. I am so sorry about this.”

“Like hell you are!” Jax jumps in.

“Sonny, you are only here because your old man - God rest his soul - and I go way back. Please don’t make a scene,” the manager whispers to him. “I can lose my job.”

Jax stares down at the man at the table with a scowl before walking away, still fuming. You chase after Jax as he makes his way out of the restaurant.

[thetechscoop]

Apple's My Photo Stream is shutting down. Don't let your memories disappear!

Introduction

We've got some news to share with you about Apple's My Photo Stream. Unfortunately, on July 26, 2023, this beloved feature will be shutting down. We know it's been a handy tool for many of you to keep your photos in sync across devices, and we totally get why you love it! But hey, don't worry! We're here to help you through this transition and make sure your precious memories stay safe and sound. It's essential to take action now, though, to save all those fantastic pictures you've captured over time. Time's running out, so let's get to it! Apple's My Photo Stream service will stop working, and any photos still there won't be accessible after the shutdown. We definitely don't want you to lose any of those special moments! Now, let's talk solutions! Apple has some alternative options for you to manage your photos seamlessly. By moving to these other services, you can keep your memories close and never miss a beat. We understand that your photos mean the world to you, and that's why we're here to guide you every step of the way. Our goal is to make this transition as smooth as possible, so you can keep cherishing and sharing those wonderful memories without any hiccups. In this guide, we'll walk you through the necessary steps to safeguard your photo collection. Plus, we'll recommend some fantastic alternative services that will keep things easy and convenient for you. The big date to remember is July 26, 2023, when My Photo Stream bids us farewell. So don't wait—let's start making those moves today!

Apple's My Photo Stream is shutting down. what you need to do?

So let's get started with what you need to do: - Check if you're using Apple's My Photo Stream. Just open up the Photos app on your iPhone, iPad, or Mac. Take a look around, and if you spot a My Photo Stream album, then you're using the service. Easy, right? - Download your photos from My Photo Stream. We don't want you to lose any of those cherished memories. To do this, simply open the My Photo Stream album in the Photos app and tap or click the Download button. Your photos will be safely saved to your device's Photos library. Phew! - Consider making the switch to iCloud Photos. It's like the next level of photo storage and sharing compared to My Photo Stream. With iCloud Photos, you can store all your photos and videos in iCloud, and they'll be accessible from any of your Apple devices. Plus, you can easily share your moments with friends and family. It's a win-win! - Back up your photos to another service. If iCloud Photos isn't your thing, no worries! You can still keep your memories safe by backing them up to another service like Google Photos or Amazon Photos. That way, you'll have a backup copy in case anything happens to your Apple devices. Better safe than sorry, right? So, don't wait around. Take action now and save those fantastic photos before Apple's My Photo Stream bids us farewell. Your memories are worth it, and so are you. Let's do this together!

iCloud and it's alternatives

So, you know how convenient it is to use Apple's iCloud Photos service for storing your precious memories in the cloud, right? But, let's be honest, it does come with a price tag. If you opt for 50GB of storage, it's gonna set you back 99 cents per month. And if you need more space, the prices go up to $2.99 for 200GB and $9.99 for a whopping 2TB! But hey, don't worry! There are some awesome free alternatives out there that can do the job just as well. For example, if you're an Amazon Prime member, you get unlimited photo storage with Amazon Photos. How cool is that? And if you're more into the Google ecosystem, Google Photos is there for you, offering free storage for up to 15GB of photos and videos. Both Amazon Photos and Google Photos have neat features like automatic photo uploads and easy photo sharing with your friends and family. However, there's a slight difference between the two. Amazon Photos lets you store your pics in their original quality, while Google Photos compresses them to save space.

Some additional information

While iCloud Photos might require some moolah, there are some great free alternatives out there that you can explore. Let me break it down for you: Amazon Photos: If you're an Amazon Prime member, you'll be happy to know that they offer unlimited photo storage for you! Plus, you get 5GB of video storage thrown in as a bonus. Not a Prime member? No problem! You still get 5GB of photo storage and 1GB for videos. Google Photos: Ah, the big G comes to the rescue! Google Photos is super generous with 15GB of free storage for both photos and videos. That's pretty awesome, right? If you ever find yourself needing more space, they've got subscription plans starting at just $1.99 a month, offering 100GB of storage. So, there you have it—some fantastic free options to keep your memories safe and sound without spending a dime (unless you want to, of course). Take a peek at these alternatives and see which one fits your needs best. So, when it comes to choosing the best fit for you, it all boils down to your needs and budget. If free is what you're after, Amazon Photos or Google Photos will do the trick just fine. But if you want more storage or prefer to keep your photos in their original glory, iCloud Photos might be worth the investment. Hope this helps you make the right decision for your photo storage needs! Happy snapping! 📸

Read More

iPhone Jailbreaking: The Ins and Outs Read the full article

[hawks-supremacy]

Golden Swirls

summary: when Sakusa's sister told him how people found their soulmates, he was disgusted. or at least until he found his.

pairing: sakusa x reader

genre: fluff and angst

word count: 3.2k

a/n: i finished this a week ago but didn't like it so i completely redid it. i also tried to write in 3rd pov which i don't think i'll do again, i'll probably just stick to 2nd pov but i wanted to try something new! anyway i hope you enjoy!

Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t consider himself a germaphobe. Even though his cousin, Komori Motoya, liked to say he was, he still wouldn’t consider himself one. Although he said it in a joking manner it still made him think, do other people see him like that? He didn’t mind sitting or laying on the floor to do his stretches before practice, and dirt outside didn’t bother him much either. It was just other people and their germs that he didn’t care for. He doesn’t know where people have been or who could potentially be in the beginning stages of a cold and not know it. He was cautious around people, and bigger crowds made him nervous.

So when Sakusa learned about soulmates and how people found theirs at the age of 8 he was a little grossed out. What he remembers from the story his older sister told him was that everyone in the world has a soulmate, and the way you find yours was that when you made contact with your soulmate, the area you touched each other would light up in a sort of golden color. She told stories about how people would go around and try to touch everyone they thought could be their soulmate.

That’s what Sakusa thought was gross, trying to touch every single person on the off chance that they're your soulmate. Maybe it’s because he was always sick as a kid and that’s why he didn’t like the idea of other people’s germs. So as he grew up and saw people leaving gentle touches on the arms of everyone they met he couldn’t help but curl his lip in disgust. It wasn’t like Sakusa never wanted to find his soulmate, but he didn’t like the idea of people invading his personal space to find out.

High School for Sakusa was difficult, even though Motoya constantly told him he was a bit brash and abrasive that didn’t stop people from wanting to see if they were his soulmate. He managed to dodge nearly everyone who tried but occasionally there’d be a few who snuck in there with disappointed stares as their touch didn’t cause the warm golden glow signalling that they were soulmates.

Now Sakusa was a professional volleyball player for the MSBY Black Jackals and dodging the fleeting touches of fans only seemed to get harder the longer he was in the spotlight. He watched from a distance as his teammates shook hands and hugged every fan that approached them, watched as the shoulders of fans slumped at the lack of gold in their touch. Watched as fans jealously stared when his captain Meian Shugo found his soulmate in the crowded court after a game.

He had just left the locker rooms and glanced in the gym to see another crowd of fans desperately trying to see if they were one of the team member’s soulmates, another crowd of fans disappointed when the outcome they were hoping for didn’t happen. “You’re not soulmate searching in the crowd of fans?” He glanced over, startled at the sudden voice next to him. He wasn’t used to the new presence quite yet.

L/n Y/n was the new manager of the Black Jackals, having started less than a month ago. They had already begun to learn everyone’s mannerisms and habits, knowing that Sakusa was one to avoid the crowds and interviews after games, opting to keep to himself. They knew that everyone else on the team had no issues meeting the fans and finding out if their soulmates were in the crowd much like Meian’s was.

Sakusa didn’t know a lot about Y/n, but they knew quite a bit about him just from observing their practices and games. Sakusa wasn’t sure if their views on soulmates matched his, if they also thought that the act of having to touch every person in hopes of finding “the one” was odd and not appealing. He wasn’t sure if they had simply just found their soulmate already and didn’t need to bother with everyone else. What he did know was that they kept their distance at practices.

Y/n always greeted everyone from a distance when they entered the gym for practices or before their games had started. When they brought their water bottles they set them on the bench rather than handing them to everyone on the team. When the team was gathering to talk about play strategies they would be sat at the bench, close enough to listen, always jotting things down on their clipboard. To Sakusa Kiyoomi, L/n Y/n was an enigma.

They were someone who kept to themselves, never getting too close to anyone else. On the occasion that they went out for dinner after games that the team had won and felt proud of, they always sat at the end of the table, never saying many words. They were quiet and soft spoken when they did speak. Giving gentle reminders or suggestions to the team. Even though they were quiet and kept to themself they still managed to become friends with almost everyone on the team.

They exchanged excited words with Bokuto as they exchanged stories from when they were in their high school years. They gave friendly but stern scoldings to Atsumu as he did something he knew he shouldn’t have, like swinging from the bars in the gym just because Hinata made a bet that he couldn’t. They gave silent smiles as they listened to Hinata enthusiastically shout sound effects as he described his favorite volleyball plays. They gave Sakusa words of encouragement while still keeping their distance because they knew that people he didn’t really know made him uncomfortable. But Sakusa didn’t know much about Y/n.

So as he looked down at them sitting on the floor across from the back entrance to the gym, waiting for him to answer their question, he wasn’t sure how to approach the conversation. “Or have you already found your soulmate?” They asked after Sakusa still hadn’t responded to their first question. “Uh no I haven’t found mine, have you?” He finally responded as he lowered himself to the ground, still a good distance away from them. They shook their head as they kept their eyes closed and their head leaning against the cold tile wall of the hallway. “Why are you sitting on the floor?” Sakusa asked after a few seconds of silence from both parties.

“I have a headache but Bokuto is my ride home, so I have to wait for him to finish greeting every fan and then he showers. So I’d say I still have a good hour to wait.” They replied, opening their eyes and tilting their head to look at Sakusa, “Why are you sitting on the floor?” He wasn’t sure how to respond, he didn’t have a reason for why he sat on the floor, he just sat there because they were also sitting on the floor.

“I can give you a ride home if you want Y/n.” He offered, changing the topic at hand. He wasn’t quite sure what compelled him to offer them a ride home, he just felt like it was right. “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to. I’m perfectly content sitting here and waiting for Bokuto.” They said, closing their eyes again and turning their head towards the ceiling. “You have a headache Y/n, let me give you a ride home so you aren’t sitting here for an hour.” Sakusa said as he got up and looked at them expectantly. As they opened their eyes they sighed and got up, “Let me text Bokuto to let him know that I don’t need a ride and then we can leave.” They reluctantly agreed as they pulled out their phone to send Bokuto a text. He wouldn’t get it until he got to the locker room but at least then he would know. “Okay let’s go.” Y/n said as they started walking towards the exit with Sakusa still standing in the hallway, only beginning to follow them after they were halfway towards the exit.

As they drove home Sakusa learned a little bit more about Y/n. He learned that they had met Bokuto through Akaashi who was a distant cousin of theirs, so they were closer to Bokuto out of everyone on the team. He also learned that they lived in the same apartment building as Bokuto so they carpooled every morning, which is why they always showed up at the same time. He didn’t learn much about before they joined the team as the manager any time he asked they waved it off or changed the subject.

As Sakusa entered his home, a familiar ringtone started to chime from his coat pocket. Taking his phone out of his pocket he pressed the answer button seeing it was Motoya calling. “Hey Motoya, what’s up?” He held the phone between his shoulder and ear as he slipped off his shoes before correcting his grip on the small device. “Was just calling to let you know we have a game against each other coming up next month. Did you just get home from your game? I thought I heard the door close.”

“Yeah I got home late because I drove the new manager home. They were waiting for Bokuto, but they had a headache and he was going to be a while.” Sakusa explained as he walked over to his kitchen to find something to eat. “Oh you guys got a new manager? Who is it?” Motoya asked curiously. “Their name is L/n Y/n. They just started a few weeks ago, so I don’t really know much about them.” He said as he got out ingredients from the fridge and went to wash his hands.

“You mean L/n Y/n from Itachiyama?” As Motoya asked what he thought was an innocent question, Sakusa felt himself freeze, “Who was that again?” He asked hesitantly. “You don’t remember Y/n? You hated them, or at least it sure seemed like you did.I mean you were cold and distant to everyone but it seemed like it was worse with them.” As Motoya continued to explain to Sakusa who Y/n was he suddenly felt very terrible. From what he remembers Y/n wasn’t always shy and soft spoken. They used to be bubbly and friendly, always trying to include everyone, including him.

It wasn’t that he was mean to them by any means. He didn’t go out of his way to bully them, but one day he had enough of their bubbly and outgoing personality and just snapped. He wasn’t having the best day and hearing them just kind of set him off, and now he felt terrible, because Sakusa knew that sometimes all it took was one person to yell at someone who was outgoing and suddenly they weren’t as outgoing anymore as before. He doesn’t quite remember what he said but he remembers that after he yelled at Y/n, they were more quiet.

“Motoya, I didn’t even recognize them. They’re so different from when we were in high school, they’re so quiet now.” Sakusa said as he leaned on the counter with his head resting in the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. “Yeah they started being quiet after you yelled at them. Didn’t talk as much.” Motoya’s voice got softer the more he talked about it. “I don’t even remember what I said, Motoya.” Sakusa sighed. “Well first of all you told them that no one cared what they had to say, and then you said something along the lines of how you feel bad for whoever their soulmate is if they're going to be that loud all the time. It was pretty bad, Kiyoomi.” Motoya changed the subject and they talked about something else for a bit before Sakusa had to eat something and then shower if he wanted to go to bed at a decent time.

It was the next morning and Sakusa was heading over to Y/n’s house to try and apologize. He wouldn’t see them today since they usually have the day after a game off so that the team can rest. He was suddenly very nervous as he knocked on the door to their apartment. “Bokuto, you have to learn how to cook something at some point, I can’t feed you all the time!” He heard their voice get closer to the door as they walked towards it, and soon the door was pulled open, “Oh you’re not Bokuto. Sorry, he usually comes over around this time every day on our days off. Uh come in?”

As they moved out of the way and opened the door more Sakusa noticed that they wore an Itachiyama sweater and suddenly felt stupid that he didn’t realize sooner. As he stepped in and slipped off his shoes he took note that the apartment was pretty clean other than a few things here and there. “Sorry it’s a mess, I was going to clean today and then well you showed up.” Y/n said as they went through and picked up a few things, “Are you hungry? It’s about noon, have you eaten? I was in the middle of making lunch, but I made enough for like four people because I don’t understand that I can cut the recipe down.” He watched as they rambled and walked around the kitchen to finish cooking the lunch they had started before he arrived.

“Yeah I’ll eat if you don’t mind. I didn’t eat anything before I came over.” He said sitting down on one of the stools by the counter. Even as he was around them for just a few minutes he couldn’t comprehend why he would yell at them like he did. Their presence was so warm and inviting, they were so caring and observant of everyone around them. Now he felt like even more of an ass before he came over to their apartment.

“Not that I don’t want to hang out with you or anything, but why exactly did you come over to my apartment today?” They asked setting down two plates of food on the counter and taking a seat across from Sakusa. Sakusa moved the food around his plate for a bit while he nervously thought about how to start the conversation. “I’m sorry.” He said and looked up, “About what happened when we were at Itachiyama.” Y/n paused, their food halfway to their mouth, and set down their utensils. “Oh, so you do remember that.” They said fidgeting with their hands, “I had honestly thought you forgot. It’s okay though Sakusa, it’s been what? Five years since that’s happened? I’ve moved past it, we’re different people than we were back then. I kinda get it though, I was a little much huh?” They asked, beginning to eat again.

“It wasn’t okay though, I shouldn’t have talked to you like that just because I was having a bad day Y/n. People care about you and what you have to say, and I guarantee your soulmate will love how bubbly and excited you always are.” Sakusa apologized again, he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to apologize enough to them. “Honestly Sakusa it’s fine, I’ve gotten over it, besides I might never find my soulmate anyway.” Y/n said as they finished their food and put their plate in the sink. “I know you got more quiet because of what I said. You’re not as outgoing or bubbly anymore, you’re more shy and reserved than before and I feel awful for that. I didn’t realize that what I said could have that big of an impact on you-”

“Well it did.” Y/n interrupted him, “It impacted me so much Sakusa. I was just trying to include you so you didn’t feel left out during group projects or activities. I was just trying to be nice to you Sakusa, you know it’s really stupid I even had a little crush on you. I know that’s dumb because the chances of us being soulmates is basically zero, but you were nice to me. You talked to me, helped me on the homework, and somewhere along the way I developed a crush. Then you yelled at me.” Y/n took a deep breath and laughed pathetically, “You yelled at me, which is really stupid, because people told me all the time that I was “too much” and needed to calm down. But it was different coming from you, coming from someone who I had thought had become a friend of mine.”

“Y/n I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” Sakusa said as he made his way toward them. “I know you didn’t, Sakusa. I told you I’m over it. I guess I just wanted to yell back at you for it, even if it is five years later. Honestly I forgave you two years after it happened. I’m still bubbly and outgoing, it’s just that I wasn’t sure if you would’ve hated that at practice so I toned it down. Ask Bokuto, he’ll tell you.” Sakusa had felt a little better after hearing that from Y/n. He wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself if they had never gone back to their excitable personality.

“Here let me help with the dishes.” Sakusa said as he reached for the plate in their hand. They were about to protest when they felt a warm go on the tip of their index finger where his hand brushed theirs. Sakusa watched in awe as golden swirls danced around both of your finger tips, somehow in sync like a dance that wasn’t quite complete without its partner to help hold the rhythm of the number. The warmth of his hand was nothing like his sister had described to him. It felt like the first rays of sun in the morning on a warm autumn day with more of a comforting warmth than a hot one.

Neither of the two said anything as they watched the golden swirls fade away, but still felt the warmth of them underneath the skin still. “I know I said I had a crush on you earlier and I should be ecstatic that this is happening but a part of me can’t help but find this really ironic.” Y/n said laughing, still staring at their hands. “What do you mean?” Sakusa asked with a confused stare as he looked at Y/n. “You don’t think this is ironic? You literally told me my soulmate would find me annoying and now you’re my soulmate. It’s kind of funny.” Y/n explained, finally looking up at Sakusa.

Sakusa thought for a minute with furrowed eyebrows before realizing what they meant. “Would you be quiet about that?” He asked now laughing at the situation as well, “We just found out we’re soulmates and you’re making jokes? I’m glad you’re back to your old self but come on Y/n.” He gave a gentle shove to their shoulder as they laughed more at the situation and Y/n continued to make jokes and lightly shoved him back.

Outside the apartment Bokuto lowered his ready to knock fist with a smile, deciding to come back at a later time as he heard laughing coming from the inside of the usually quiet apartment.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝐴 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑛 𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝐶𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑇𝑜 𝑌𝑜𝑢 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)

Warnings: NSFW content/Older Ateez but age differences is written withing legal boundaries.

Continuation to this reaction.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Peeking his eyes up from the test papers he was currently grading, Hongjoong glared as he saw how the student that had recently transferred was eyeing you up. He tried to look away but it truly disgusted him to see him stare down at your legs. His hand then clenched into a tight fist as you crossed one leg over the other, exposing more of your skin which the student did not shy away from gawking at, even tilting his head to see if he could get a glimpse of something else.

As if on cue to keep him from slamming his hands on the desk, the bell rang for all the students to go back to their dorms or other living spaces.

"Miss Y/N, could you please stay a moment?"

You smirked to yourself as it seemed your plan had worked. Putting on the most innocent face you could muster, you leaned your hands on the desk in front of your teacher, purposefully bending over so your cleavage could be seen by him.

"Yes Mr. Kim? Do you require my.... assistance?" You wiggled your eyebrows at him.

Knowing what your little game was, Hongjoong slid off his chair and slowly walked to the other side of the desk. His hands went to your waist and moved you so you could face him. His bottom lip poked out while his hands went underneath your skirt to toy with the hem of your panties.

"Miss Y/N, I'm afraid these skirts of yours might prove to be too distracting for classes."

You nearly threw your head back and laughed loudly, but instead you opted for pulling your sexy teacher closer to you by his tie.

"For whom exactly? The other students.....or you?"

Hongjoong breathed in deeply when you swiped your tongue across his bottom lip.

"I would prefer it if they only distracted me." He admitted as he began sliding your panties down your legs.

You let out an amused hum as your hands began to rub across his chest, giving his nipples a little harsh tug through his button up shirt.

"Whatever happened to those words you said the other day? Remember? About not wanting to mess around anymore with the school's cum bucket?" You began prying his buttons open.

He swallowed hard as he began regretting calling you that, not knowing you didn't mind at all and instead used it to fuel your plan for revenge on him. Sighing softly, his hand cupped the back of your head.

"I don't want to hear anymore gossip or whisperings about anyone else fucking you ok? I don't even want to think about any other asshole getting their dick anywhere near here. Got it.?"

You giggled at his confession. Propping yourself up on the desk so he could fully tear your panties off you, you spread your legs out for him, letting him inhale your scent of arousal.

"Then why don't you claim it as your own? Right here, right now, on this desk?"

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Having been under a lot more stress than usual, Seonghwa was extremely irritable and often walked around with a scowl. It was starting to bother you honestly.

"If you don't want to be here, you can just leave you know." You spat out one day while you two were in bed.

Turning his face to you, he looked at you with a warning glare.

"Don't you talk to me in that tone missy."

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him.

"Last time I checked this was my house, meaning I can talk to you however I want to." You reminded him.

Grunting angrily, Seonghwa sat up and began dressing himself. It kinda had you worried that he was going to leave you for good.

"You're leaving me?" You hid away your disappointment.

"Obviously. Why would I wanna stay here any longer with a slut like you?" He didn't actually mean those words and he instantly regretted spewing them out, but he was stubborn and prideful so he simply left you without another word.

You were fuming, enraged that he'd dare just walk out on you like that. You weren't going to let him leave so easily though. And if you had to take drastic measures to ensure he'd be back in your arms, so be it.

"Slut you say? You don't even know honey." You mused to yourself.

For the next few days Seonghwa moped around his home, sighing to himself. He'd often look over the walls that separated the two of you, wondering what you were doing and if you were thinking of him. One day while his wife was out, he sat quietly on his bed, glasses on as he read one of the many books he owned. He was disrupted by a loud pounding against the wall. The obnoxiously pornographic moans gave a huge clue as to what was going on.

"Oh fuck! Your cock feels sooo good."

He gritted his teeth as he heard your voice being mixed with another male's which didn't belong to him. He slammed his book close, outraged that you'd be fucking someone else so soon.

"Oh yes! Cum inside me!"

Punching the wall, Seonghwa got off the bed and stormed out the room, not wanting to hear anymore and waited by the front door to catch a glimpse of your new lover. When he finally did see him, he scoffed at the young lad, shaking his head furiously. As soon as he left, he went straight over to your place, letting himself in as he pressed you up against the wall.

"If I remember correctly, only I was allowed to cum inside that hole of yours right?"

His snarling against your ear was making you get turned on once more, your legs parting when he drove his knee up your crotch.

"After all you did promise to give me a baby....."

He grinned evilly as he peppered kisses along your jaw.

"And I'm holding you to your word."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

He knew......he knew that sometime, sooner or later his relationship with you had to end. Only he hoped it would be much later...much later. Yunho always blamed himself. He tried to remind himself over and over again that there was absolutely deep between you two. It was strictly a no strings attached relationship.

So why was he getting bothered by someone else coming in your life hoping to steal you away? After all, if either of you wanted to see other people, you had every right to.

"What's on your mind little one?" He asked you out of nowhere earlier that day as you poked at your food, hardly taking a bite out of anything even though it included some of your favorite dishes.

You shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. Scooting his chair closer to you, he lifted your face up so he could look at your eyes.

"Tell me." He urged you.

You still kept quiet though, afraid that if you said anything he'd be mad, hurt or anything of the sort. But Yunho only chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Go see that boy."

You were startled by his words, wondering how on earth he knew about it.

"Go on your little date with him. Who knows? Maybe you two will hit it off or something. Have a little fun."

Although he encouraged you enthusiastically, now he was sitting on the couch watching the hours go by. It was late, well not too late, but still late. He started thinking if perhaps you would spend the night with this new guy, but his mind quickly shut away all those thoughts. He hated admitting it, but it pained him to picture you in someone else's arms. He started cursing himself for allowing his heart to develop feelings for you when you probably didn't even think of him in that way.

Little did he know you were sulky at having him encourage you to see someone else like nothing, like he did not care about you. And although you had a nice date, the guy wasn't who you wanted. The person you wanted was waiting back home no doubt, so you made it back home early, hoping he was still there, which thankfully he was.

"Hey, had fun on your-"

You didn't let Yunho finish his sentence when you suddenly straddled his lap and began kissing him fervently. He could only groan as he pulled you closer to him.

"You know I'll still take care of you? You don't have to do this if you don't want to." He pulled back to remind you that, bracing himself for your answer.

"I know.....but do you know that what I want is you?" You finally admitted, shocking Yunho to the core.

He let out an involuntary smile as he realized his feelings were indeed reciprocated on your part. Stroking your hair in an affectionate way, he pulled you into another kiss.

"You're either really young and naive, or really dumb my little one." He teased you, squishing your cheeks together.

You frowned at his teasing, hating how he constantly reminded you of your age difference and used it to baby you.

"Shut up and make love to me already old man, that is if you can even get it up."

Yunho giggled at your snarky remark, flipping positions so he could pin you on the couch.

"Trust me my little one, with you around it's impossible to keep it down."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang was restless ever since you went on vacation. Since it was summer break and his daughter was spending time with her maternal grandmother, there was no need for you to stay with them for the time being and honestly, you deserved a nice break to enjoy yourself and go be the free, young spirit you were after spending months cooped up inside that mansion looking after an intelligent and adorably sardonic 8 year old.

His mind was no longer focused. He didn't have a lot of things to do and even the small tasks he had to do he found them too difficult. He couldn't stop thinking about you. His thoughts kept revolving back to you and the nights he spent by your side, either when he snuck inside your room or he brought you into his room while his wife was away. He was missing your body, missing you, missed talking to you as he caressed your body after a passionate night of love making.

He was in the middle of those thoughts when his trusted butler came in, the sly smile on his face signaling he had useful information.

"Well? How is she? Is she all right?" Yeosang asked, having had his butler go stalk you out and report back to him on how you were.

"Oh you'll find Miss Y/N is in good health and.... in very good hands." He let out a muffled chuckle as he placed a folder in front of his master, containing photos and all sorts of information he deemed useful and interesting enough for Yeosang to know.

Not exactly liking the taunting tone the man used, Yeosang poured over the folder's contents, his eyes narrowing in on the rather attractive young man who seemed to be on almost every picture with you. You seemed to be having a lot of fun with him given that you were going out clubbing with him always by you, his arms always draped around you. Or you'd be seeing taking walks with him, his stance too close to you for Yeosang's liking. His nose twitched in disgust and he began tearing up any photo with the young man in it.

"Get the car ready and your swimming trunks in a luggage. We're going on a little trip." Yeosang smiled passive aggressively.

"I take it Madame must not know of this?" The old man raised a curious eyebrow.

"Exactly. Precisely." Yeosang chuckled, the two partners sharing a knowing and mischievous look.

After a long night at a beach party and too many margaritas, you dragged your feet to your hotel room, nearly stumbling in due to how tipsy you were but you were caught by strong arms that you had recently been missing.

"Mr. Kang.." You immediately sobered up as you stared at his handsome face.

"Remember what we agreed on? That I want you to drop the formalities?"

You giggled as he began pressing soft kisses on your lips, one after another.

"Go on. Say it."

Giving in, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Yeosang."

Sighing contentedly, Yeosang held you for a while, just enjoying your warmth as he inhaled your scent that he missed. But he soon grimaced when he detected a strange odor on you.

"You reek like him." He huffed out, clearly annoyed at smelling another man on you.

"Is that the reason you came all the way out here?" You snorted, yet flattered to know he cared that much.

You squealed as he picked you up and carried you to the bed.

"Just don't talk and let's get rid of that disgusting stench. I don't want you smelling like anyone else but me."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San glared for the hundredth time at the classmate who lately had been irritating him to no end by coming over just to go see you at work. He rolled his eyes as he heard the airhead dick say how he didn't understand a certain assignment just to have you bend over and pour over the information with him. You were too nice to say no.

"And too dumb to notice he's only paying attention to your chest." He let out a disgruntled sigh as he organized the books on the shelf for the 7th time, not wanting to move from his spot in case the little shithead decided to try anything on you.

Wanting him to go away, he sneakily crept up behind the counter and sneakily brushed his hand across your ass, fingertips slightly ruffling the hem of your skirt.

"Y/N if you're done with your little tutoring session, I need you to help me look over the accounting ok?"

You nodded, realizing you had wasted enough of your boss's time. Giving your classmate an apologetic smile, you told him you'd help him some other time. Although saddened by not spending more time with you, he did not want you to lose your job or get you in trouble.

"You truly are an angel Y/N. What would I ever do without you?" He pouted at you, trying to look as cute as possible.

"I'm sure your hand has kept you company quite nicely all these years, you'll be fine." San couldn't help but smirk as he said that loud enough for both of you to hear, shocking you and embarrassing your classmate, who quickly walked out of the book shop with his head lowered.

Not very happy with his little joke, you looked over at your boss who had his back turned to you as his eyes stared at the computer screen.

"That was rather rude and disrespectful don't you think?" You shook your head at him.

"Not as rude and disrespectful as annoying someone at their job with lame excuses just so they can get a peek at a nipple or an ass cheek." He replied nonchalantly, unbothered and unrepentant of his behavior.

You let out a sarcastic laugh.

"That's a bit rich coming from you don't you think? Given all the times you've stared at me when I've bent down or stood on top of the stool." You reminded him.

Turning his head to look at you, San smiled at you with such a deceivingly sweet smile, accentuating his cute dimples that never failed to make you melt.

"See here now my young apprentice, if I remember correctly, you would purposefully bend over just for me, you were begging me to check you out, even started cutting the length of these skirts so I'd look at your legs."

Humming softly, your hands went to his collared shirt, undoing the top buttons to expose the top of his chest.

"Guilty as charged then Boss..... so... are you gonna write me up or cut my pay for slacking off at work yet again?" You taunted him as you brushed your lips against his.

Playing along with your little game, San chuckled and gripped your waist.

"Oh no my little apprentice. I'm not that type of boss. I prefer a different punishment."

You let out a gasp as he suddenly turned you around and pressed your upper body down against the glass case, his foot separating your legs apart as he fumbled with his belt.

"I'm gonna bend you over and fuck that pretty ass of yours til it's stretched open."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

You were starting to get pissed off at the thought of Mingi blowing you off on yet another date. It was the third time he had done it and you were starting to get fed up honestly.

"For someone who claims to be responsible and mature he sure can't seem to freaking keep his word." She muttered angrily to yourself as you swirled the leftover ice in your drink.

Out of nowhere, a young stud slid onto the seat right in front of you. With two drinks in hand, he slid one of them across to you. You eyed the drink suspiciously, wondering if he was one of those types to add some kind of drug just so he could easily kidnap you or something.

"Relax doll face, I promise I didn't spike it or anything." He assured you.

Shrugging and realizing you had nothing to loose, you instantly downed the drink with ease. You tried not to grimace at the fruity beverage the stranger got you.

"What does he take me for? A little pussy that drinks bitch beers?" You thought to yourself, though you couldn't blame him. You were pretty young and most mistook your youth for inexperience or naivety. Little did they know you could down the hardest of liquors down as if it was water.

"Tell me doll face, why are you here all alone? Looking all moody and dejected?"

You pondered on whether you should really say anything or make up something. Neither it seems. You opted for a more vague explanation.

"Just tired of being stood up I guess. No biggie." You rolled your shoulders back.

The man looked at you with a sad and pitiful look. He began to wonder why would anyone stand up such a beautiful and gorgeous woman like yourself? Whoever they were, they were either stupid or blind.

"Well the night is still young. Why don't you come back with me to my place and have a little fun? No strings attached and I can promise you you'll be more than satisfied." He offered, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

You looked him up and down. Truthfully you'd turn him down merely for being so close to your age, still not very attracted to younger males, given that they promised more than they could offer. But sizing him up, he seemed to be well endowed, definitely above average. And besides you were frustrated by Mingi blowing you off that it wouldn't hurt to have a little rendezvous with someone else.

Sensing your hesitation, he smirked and began pulling your chair closer to him, his hand slithering its way up your skirt.

"Trust me doll face. You have nothing to worry about."

"No but you will if you don't take off your filthy hands off her right now."

You were startled yet amused when Mingi popped out of nowhere and pushed the guy's hand off you before grabbing your arm and pulling you up.

"Come on let's go. We're leaving." He gave you no choice as he began dragging you away, only to be stopped by the young man as he stepped in front of you two.

"Hold on here, you can't just haul her away like that. What are you? Her dad?" He scoffed, arms crossed as he looked Mingi up and down with disdain.

Instead of getting offended, Mingi simply smirked as he slipped his hand around your waist, pressing your body against his.

"Yeah, I'm her daddy, at least that's what she calls me at night."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Wooyoung's eyes pierced daggers into the man that was currently talking to you. He had seen him countless times at the strip club where you used to work. He knew the man had more than just a crush on you, he was practically obsessed with you. More than once he had tried to get a private show from you but Wooyoung always made sure those plans were thwarted since he didn't want anyone else looking let alone touching his prized possession. Hence why he took you out of there and kept you all to himself.

And now he was fuming at this crazed fan of yours wanting to get close to you once more, no doubt trying to get in your pants. He saw how he kept leaning close to you or stepping up to you. Each time he did, you would step away, slightly uncomfortable by his close proximity and even more uncomfortable at how he talked with so much detail about your previous performances at the club, detailing things that not even you remembered.

"You know I don't even go there anymore. It's a waste of time." He admitted, a frown on his face.

"Oh really?." You asked, trying hard to hide your sarcasm, not really interested in anything he had to say.

"Yeah, you're not there anymore so what's the point? Although...."

You froze in place when his hands came up to cup your chin.

"I would give anything to see you strip one last time." He winked at you.

His hand was harshly pulled away from you by Wooyoung, who shoved him so hardly he actually landed on the floor.

"Too bad you're never going to see that ever again you punk."

Linking your arm with his, Wooyoung dragged you back to the car where he then drove full speed back to your apartment. As soon as you both stepped inside, his hands were all over you, mouth devouring your own as a trail of clothes leading into your bedroom was scattered on the hallway. You had never seen Wooyoung jealous before and it turned you on so much. His possessiveness was even more evident as his nails dug into your skin, his hips slamming into your ass as his cock plunged deep inside you, threatening to pull another orgasm out of your body.

"You're my little whore, no one else's."

You let out a yelp when his hand came down to strike one of your already burning cheeks once more, his hand printed all over your ass.

"My little fuck toy that I can play with as I want." He growled, pistoning his cock even deeper in you.

"Ah! Yes! I'm your toy Wooyoung!" You cried out, breathing heavily and whimpering loudly as tears streaked down your cheeks, your vision starting to go blank once more as you felt yourself ready to burst once more around Wooyoung's cock.

"Fuck! Yeah. My little fuck toy. All mine and no one else's."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Jongho fought hard not to scoff or roll his eyes at the man sitting across from both you and him. He was a nice young man that recently started working for your father, very responsible and efficient. And your father liked him so much he took it upon himself to have the two of you meet up in with hopes of getting you two together. The man of course was elated by you. You were so pretty and charming and was already head over heels for you.

Jongho and you were not very happy about it though, Jongho more displeased than you. At least you could mask your dislike of him better, being all smiles and kind to him. It honestly sickened Jongho seeking you be all fake, proper and polite when he knew better than anyone your true character.

"Sweetheart, you know this young man was the one who suggested we strike that deal with that other company? And his plan worked out brilliantly." Your father couldn't stop gloating about the man's accomplishments.

"Oh really? Do tell me all about it." You feigned interest.

"Oh my fucking god, I swear to hell-" Jongho fought back the urge to slam his fork against his plate, not wanting to listen to another boring and excruciatingly painful gloating from the idiot in front of them.

Minutes into the story and Jongho was already dozing off, bored to death by the incessant chatter coming from the man across you both. Looking over at you, he could tell you were bored too. A wicked plan came to his head. But you were both bored so why not make it fun. You at first thought nothing about having him press a hand on your thigh under the table, he'd often do that every now and then. But you started to worry when he began to travel his hand further up to cup your clothed heat. It was such a risky thing to do at the dinner table, with your parents and a guest right there. You tried to stop him when he tried to tug your underwear down, but were met by a pinch against your inner thigh. You covered your mouth with your napkin and pretended to cough in order to hide the squeak that escaped you. Giving in, you slightly lifted yourself off your chair and let Jongho slide your panties down.

He pretended to drop his phone just so he could stoop down and pick up your panties off the floor. You watched as he stuffed them in his pocket, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk. Suddenly you felt your phone vibrate in your purse. Glancing briefly, you saw a text from none other than your secret lover right next to you.

"After dinner. My place. You're lucky you're off for the next few days cause I'll make sure you won't be able to walk after I'm done with you."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[melancholymetropolis]

No Idea

Pairings: Athlete!Kirishima x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: College AU The reader is Kirishima's History tutor and they kinda have a crush on each other. It takes an afterparty filled with horny guys and a skin-tight dress for Kiri to realize he wants them all to himself.

Warning: Do I even need to say it at this point? It's smut, obvi. Kinda unedited. The reader and her best friend are black. Kirishima is a football player; he's VERY possessive over the reader. Her best friend is a little gay for her as well.

Author's Note: This was a commission!!!!! The client gave me this insane prompt and I had no choice but to go over the word limit. If you want to commission me, click here! Your support really means the world to me. Enjoy!

Word Count: 5,300

“You’re back early!” My roommate, Liza, yelled from the other side of the apartment-style dorm room. The sound of her chair scraping the floor followed shortly after, along with the light footsteps of her sock-clad feet. “I left you a plate in the microwave, in case you were hungry. I could heat it up, if you’re too tired— why the long face? What happened?”

“He didn’t show up,” I sighed as I dropped my books on the table and sank into a chair.

“How can he not show up?” Liza fumed crossing her arms. “His GPA is already in the gutter from all the other quizzes he seemed to fail before the semester even started.”

“I know,” I replied in a bored tone.

“He’s on academic probation—”

“I know.”

“One more hiccup and he’ll be off the football team—”

“I know.”

“Not to mention how you practically have to bend backward to make time for him—”

“Mhm.”

“Just for him to flake on you for the third time! I just—”

“Liza, please,” I rose from my seat and stood in front of her. “You don’t have to be angry with me. It’s truly okay.”

“No! It’s not okay!” She stormed to the microwave and pulled the cover plate from the inside. She removed the foil and pushed it back into the device, before pressing the start button four times. She turns to face me and forces an angered sigh from her lips. “He likes you, you know that right?”

I lifted my books from the table and walked to our shared room. I took in the words that she threw at me with each step and digested them. Kirishima liked me. It wasn’t as though I didn’t have an inkling that he may be, sorta found me attractive. Although I wore glasses, I wasn’t blind. At least with them on. I saw the way he looked at me when we were less than a foot apart. Shoulders practically touching as we slouched over the Advanced American History textbook. Our hands brushing against each other’s ever so often. The sparkle in his eye when he looked at me longer than a few seconds; the blush on his cheeks when I smiled at his corny jokes. His persistent tendency to walk me home, although most times, we finished our study sessions just before dusk. The way he stayed glued to my side during the journey to my dorm. How he’d carry my books on the way. I noticed it all and practically welcomed it, since I too found him attractive. The spiky redhead just had a way of making everyone swoon over him. Kirishima was genuinely a nice person, not because there was something in it for him, but just because.

The beeping from the microwave brought me back to reality. I placed the textbooks on the designated space on the shelf and fixed my scattered stationery from that morning. Liza shuffled in with a bowl of baked fetta pasta, and a piece of toasted garlic bread a few minutes later. She placed the bowl on the desk, with a fork, a can of sparkling soda, and my favorite metal straw.

“What did I do to deserve you?” I said with a tired smile.

“Helped me pass ‘Text and Ideas’ with an A-,” Liza smiled back and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Oh right,” I took a seat at the desk and forked the starchy dish in my mouth. “This is heaven-sent.”

“I knew you’d like it!” She deemed walking to her own desk. “I got the recipe from tiktok.”

I hum in response and continued to stuff my face. After a few minutes of silence, I grab the phone from my back pocket and unlocked it. A new message from Kirishima was the newest notification from many and it said:

Hey, I am sorry for not showing up. My teammate got shitfaced and decided to take a dive into the fountain. It took three of us to pull him out. It sucks because I was really looking forward to seeing you.

Since my mouth had already filled to its brink with pasta, I opted for a tight-lipped smirk instead of a toothy one. Kirishima all but admitted that he missed me. My hunch was right: the feelings are mutual. I swallowed the pasta and swiveled around in my chair to look at Liza. Her eyes were glued to her phone, but she snapped her head up to laugh at the content on her screen. Once she was down laughing, I picked my phone up and pointed it in her general direction. Reaching forward, she grasped the device and quickly read the message.

“Don’t respond to him,” she said, handing the phone back to me.

“Why? I thought you were shipping us together?” I asked whilst forking more pasta in my mouth.

“That’s why I’m telling you what I am telling you!” Liza rose to her feet and in a split second, she stood in front of me with a sickening smile.

“I am afraid to ask,” I said with a sigh.

“You don’t have to; I’m gonna tell you anyway,” she squats between my legs and widens her smile. “That boy is already wrapped around your finger, all you need to do is pull away. Just a tiny bit and he’ll come running.”

“Liza. . .”

“Hear me out!” She rose to her feet again and walked to the closet. “Remember when I went thrift shopping last week and I picked up that cute bodycon dress?”

“Yeah. . . ?”

“Well, I washed it and realized that it didn’t have the BODY to fill it out properly.” She pulls the dress from the closet and turns back to me. “And since the Homecoming Afterparty is at the Quarterback's house tomorrow night, I thought it would be the perfect time for you to wear it.”

I eye the dress, taking in its extremely short length and strappy detailing on the front. One wrong move and my breasts would spill right out of it. But, one right move would have them fall onto Kiri’s lap. I tried my best to list the pros and cons of the situation. Pondering what I could get out of the ordeal going to the lion’s den dressed as a gazelle. Yet, all I could imagine was me twerking on someone’s son and taking him home afterward.

💘🖤💘🖤

The dress fit like a glove: perfectly tight, almost like a second skin, but very breathable. I paired it with some hoop earrings, a few bangles on each wrist, and 3-inch kitten heels. My goal was to dress to impress, not nurse my aching arches by the end of the night. The entire ride over to the nicer part of town was nerve-wracking, for one, the Uber driver wouldn’t stop staring at my cleavage from the driver’s mirror. And, secondly, Liza practically had phone sex with her boyfriend, who was going to meet us at the party. I stared down at my phone the whole time, rereading Kiri’s message and the ones he sent afterward. It was true, he was wrapped around my finger. He didn’t double text; Kirishima sent five messages in a row.

Hey, are you free tomorrow? I wanted to talk about yesterday.

I’ll buy you that weird thing you like from Starbucks.

The drink you said that tastes like the moon.`

And I’ll get you those cake pop things.

My heart couldn’t help but flutter; I didn’t know he was paying that much attention to me. I only mentioned that Starbucks drink once in his presence, quite a while ago. It had to be a little over a month ago, yet he still remembered.

The car stopped and Liza popped right out. Her 34 inch Brazilian, straight swaying behind her as she closes the door. Still chatting with her boyfriend, she motions me out of the car with an eager smile. Reluctantly, I detach myself from the cool leather and tug on my dress as I closed the door behind me. I looked up toward the mansion before me, white paint and overwhelming size almost frightened me. But, when I saw a familiar, spiky-haired, redhead, all my potential fear left my body and warmth replaced it.

Kirishima’s back was to me; he was having an intense conversation with his best friend, Bakugo, one of the team’s Linebackers. The blond was so close to popping a fuse but Kiri was struggling to keep from laughing directly in his face. I approach the porch, slow and sensual, my eyes glued to him the entire walk over. Kirishima briefly turns around to address a comer of the group, Sero, an offensive player, when his eyes come up the steps. The humorous expression on his face drops and is replaced with awe. The other two boys look in the direction of his eyesight and replicate his reaction.

“Hi—” I lifted my hand to wave, but it never made it past my abdomen. Liza appeared right in front of me and captured my wrist.

“Girl, it’s our song! Hurry up!” She said as she proceeded to drag me into the house.

“Bye—! Wait, damn!”

Liza pulled me to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room of the home. She starts to bop side to side, swaying her hips in place. It takes me a few seconds to register that “34+35” was blasting the speakers. Liza twirls around me in a fit of giggles and continues to bop along to the music.

“I thought you liked “positions” better than this track?” I questioned as I matched her rhythm.

“I do! I just had to get you out of there,” Liza answered as she swayed her head back and forth. Which made her hair move in an angelic wave behind her bandeau top and pencil skirt. “Those three guys looked like they wanted to run a train on you.”

“ELIZABETH!!!!” I screamed with a shocked smile.

“What?! I’m not lying!” She gives me a bashful smirk. “You look so good, mamas! Shit, you're making me rethink my relationship with Shinso.”

“Oh my god!” I laughed. “I can’t take your ass anywhere, for real!”

The song began to fade out and bleed into “Pussy Talk” with the infamous City Girls. Liza’s soft bops began to move into full booty bouncing. Soon her hands are on her knees and she’s throwing her ass back on my lap. I press my hand flat on her back and lift my other hand in the air. She whines her waist and looks back at me as her inner hot girl is threatening to make an appearance. Shortly after the first verse, Liza straightens her back and dances around me as I bop to the side, bouncing my ass to the music. A smile comes to my lips as my favorite part plays on full blast.

“Pussy talented, it do cartwheels,” Liza and I screamed in unison. “And he pay ‘cause he like how that part feel.”

“Pussy give speeches, heartfelt,” I continued, popping my back against my friend.

“Yuh,” Liza ad-libbed.

“Said the pussy really talk like it Garfield,” I rapped as I felt Liza’s hands glide up my sides.

“It do!”

We danced around each other for the rest of the song and pulled away from the floor, desperately needing to hydrate. We practically stumbled toward the makeshift bar across the living room. We reached into the cooler and pulled out two bottles of water. We chugged the water and tossed the empty bottles in the trash.

“Only water, ladies?” Mineta asked as we turned back towards the dance floor. “You don’t want something a little. . . stronger?”

“Get lost, grape juice,” a familiar voice suddenly came out of nowhere.

Just a few feet behind the purple blob stood Kirishima and Shinso. If looks could kill, Mineta’s body parts would be staining the marble floors and messing up my fresh pedicure. The poor excuse for a human scurried away as both football players approached us. Shinso instantly wrapped his arms around Liza and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Having fun, baby girl?” His low voice sounded sensual against the harsh music.

A seductive smile falls on Liza’s face. “I would’ve had even more fun if you actually danced with me for once.”

“You know I don’t like—”

“Too bad!” She pulled Shinso to the dance floor.

Leaving me alone with Kirishima. I turned to look at him and offered him an awkward smile. “How was your diving lesson?”

The redhead returned my smile and scratched the back of his neck. “So you did read me my texts? I was starting to think you were mad at me or something.”

“Not at you, per se,” I replied thinking of my words carefully.

“Then who were you mad at?” Kirishima closes the distance between us and puts a finger under my chin. He redirects my attention to his face and gives me a smirk.

He looked good and he knew it. He wore a simple white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. But, he paired it with a burgundy leather jacket and a Cuban link silver chain. He had a gold wristwatch on his left wrist and a simple chain on his right. And his cologne. . . it danced in my nostrils. It wasn’t too heavy or suffocating; you simply had to be close to him to smell it.

Kirishima was playing a dangerous game and he knew it.

“At the people that take you away from me,” I looked at him with doughy eyes and slightly parted lips. A look of innocence was written all over my face.

Kirishima clenched his jaw and briefly looked away. A blush starting to form on his cheeks. “Well, I—. Shit.” He remained silent for a few seconds, gathering his words, before saying “You don’t know what you do to me, Y/N.”

“And what’s that?” I asked while removing his hand from my chin and bringing it to my lips. I gently kiss his bruised knuckles, never breaking eye contact while doing so.

The redhead opens his mouth to speak but is rudely interrupted by a yelling Liza.

“GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, BITCH!!!! THEY’RE PLAYING OUR SONG!!!!”

While I was talking to Kirishima, the music seemed to slip away. I had no idea what was playing until I refocused my attention on the blaring speakers. “Come on, Kiri. Duty calls.” I drag him to the dance floor.

Liza unlatches herself from Shinso and twirls around me. “I’m not shy, I’ll say it. I’ve been picturing you naked.”

“I’m a little faded, you look like a fucking painting,” I continue the verse as I glide my hands along my body. “Big doe eyes, amazin’. She’s everything I’ve been prayin’.”

Liza walked up to Kirishima and glided her hand along his chest. “Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress-up house.” She pressed two fingers against her lips and poked her tongue out. “I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.”

Kirishima blushes a bright red, nearly matching his hair. It takes everything in me not to laugh.

I look back at Shinso and he’s just shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“Go get your girlfriend, before she devours your teammate,” I said giggly quietly.

“Go get your best friend before she kills your loverboy,” Shinso counters looking down at me with a smirk.

“He looks like he's gonna pass out,” I replied, struggling to contain my laughter.

“If you think that’s bad, you should’ve seen him when you were twerking on Liza,” Shinso jested while leaning closer to me. “Eijiro looked like he came in his pants.”

I smacked his arm and leaned against his chest. “You’re lying!” Laughter overcame my body; tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes.

“I swear to god,” Shinso struggled to say while laughing. “Then, when Bakugo called you hot. . . Eiji almost went feral.”

“Stop. . . I can’t breathe. . .”

“You better fuck him like the world is ending. . . I can’t keep stopping him from. . . fighting the entire team over you.”

“You and Liza. . . perfect for each other. . . I cannot. . .”

The song swiftly faded out into another. Yet another one of Liza’s favorites: Buss it by Erika Banks.

The young woman peeled herself from Kirishima and began walking to her boyfriend. I distanced myself from Shinso and walked over to Kirishima. I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. “Are you okay, Kiri?” A smile painted my lips.

His eyes darkened and he gripped my waist firmly. “I want you. . . so bad right now.”

“How about we get outta here?” I suggested with a raised eyebrow.

“Go say goodbye to your friends, I’ll bring the car around,” Kirishima asserted with a smirk. He pressed a kiss to my forehead before detaching himself from me and walking out of the living room.

I turned back to Shinso and Liza, who were seconds away from eating each other’s face off. I tapped the loving couple and cleared my throat. They both pulled away and stared at me.

"We're leaving," I said simply.

"About fucking time," Liza replied with a smirk. "You better come back to the dorm in a goddamn wheelchair, if not, I'm sending you back to his place."

"You have like zero chill," I shook my head and waved goodbye.

"Don't forget to use protection!" Liza yelled after me.

A chuckle fell from my lips as I walked out of the front door. I found Kirishima exactly where he said he'd be: parked in front of the massive house, within a bright red mustang. He exited the car and walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle. He opened my door and helped me get in. Kirishima made sure I was buckled in and comfortable before entering the car on the driver's side.

He starts the vehicle, and places his right hand on my thigh. He gives the plush fresh a securing squeeze before pulling away from the curb.

The drive was short and sweet, averaging around ten minutes. We parked across the street from the boys’ dorm hall and exited the car. Kirishima opened my door and helped me out of the vehicle.

"If you don't want this, I could always take you home," he said as he shut my door. "I don't want to pressure you into anything."

"I want this more than you know," I responded while gripping his hand. "But, if I ever feel uncomfortable, I'll let you know."

Kirishima nods and smiles. "Good girl. Now let's go."

The moment his dorm's door closed, his body was pressed against mine and his hand glued to my waist. His lips massaged against my own, slow and sensually. I moaned against the kiss, and pressed my body closer to his. He felt so good attached to me, almost like he was meant to be against me. His searing hot kisses inched down my jawline and to my neck. Kirishima's hands slid up my abdomen and to my shoulders, he slipped the straps from the curved surface and pulled away just enough just to allow me to remove them from my arms.

He kissed the other side of my neck, leaving little bites here and there. The redhead ran his tongue against my collarbones and I swear a flood rushed to my nether regions. Kirishima kissed down and left my breast, gathering the anticipation that swirled through my body before latching his lips on my nipple. A throat my moan fell from my mouth and my legs jolted slightly. My mind continued to fog as he nestled against the sensitive bud, while happily moaning against the soft flesh. I pressed one hand against the front door and another in his hair.

Pants left my lips as I began to squirm underneath his body. "Take me to the bed, please," I begged while looking down at him. " I want you so bad, Kiri."

The redhead detached himself from my breast and gripped my chin. "Say my name, baby." His red eyes stared deeply into my brown ones, taking in every little detail of my expression.

"Eijiro," I said breathlessly.

"Say it again," he broke eye contact and gripped my waist.

"Eijiro."

His hands slipped down the curve of my rear and to my legs. He lifted limbs from off the ground and wrapped them around his waist. I wrapped my arms around his leg immediately afterward and giggled.

He walked further into the dorm room and passed through another dorm. He sits me on the extra-long twin bed and falls to his knees between my legs. Kiri unlatches my strappy heel and tosses it to the other side of the room. While he does the other foot, a smirk presses against his lips.

"What?" I asked while looking down at him.

"I'm just thinking about how this started," he said while smiling. "How my shifty grades gave me the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Stop it," I counter with a blush on my face. "You're exaggerating."

"Baby, I mean it with every fiber of my being when I say this," he leaned forward. "I've wanted to be with you for a while now, I just didn't know if you'd like me back. And I was kinda ashamed of taking so long to say something because you're so sweet and you really helped me a lot with Advanced American History. I didn’t want you to think I was using you for information or anything."

I leaned forward and pressed my lips on his forehead. "I liked you even before I officially knew you. When you beat the shit out of that guy that tried to home a drunk girl."

"I don't even remember that."

"It was during a Halloween party last year, that was when I first saw you. And I thought, "wow I wish more men like him existed in this world"."

"I can't believe you remember that."

"How could I not? You basically saved that girl's life and dignity. You were the only human being in a room full of predators. That's when I knew I wanted you for myself."

Kirishima laughs. "Greedy, little Y/N."

I shrugged.

"Come here."

I gathered the football player into my arms and pressed my lips onto his. Taking in every ounce of his kiss. Sucking on his bottom lip. Slipping my tongue within his mouth. Tugging against his collar to close the distance between us. After a few seconds, Kirishima kissed down my body again until he was face to face with my heated center. He scrunched the dress around my waist and pulled my panties off my legs before spreading my legs wide open.

"Oh… look how wet you are, baby," he kissed the soft skin in between my thighs. "All for me."

Kirishima dipped his head between my legs and took a long swipe at the sticky mess between them. A shiver ran along my spine, Arching my back, I released a soft whimper and spread my legs further apart. He dipped his tongue into the smooth canal repeatedly, bobbing his head as he completed the action. His calloused hands slid up my legs once more and hooked around my thighs. Kiri moved his hot mouth from the very bottom of my womanhood to the top, leaving a long string of spit along the way. The redhead sucked on the protruding bud tenderly; with hollowed cheeks, he looked up from my heat and stared into my eyes. I bit my lip and moaned loudly.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I arched my back against his mouth and bucked my hips slowly.

Kirishima released my bud with a silent “pop” and began lapping the rosy, pink button in great haste. My legs jolted at the new source of stimulation and a throaty whine fell from my lips. Squeezing my eyes shut, I squirmed underneath his mouth, desperately wanting to add more friction. Kiri noticed my slutty movements and began to move his tongue even faster.

“Ah. . . just like that, don’t stop,” my fingers gathered my bosoms and gave them a firm squeeze. The walls of my slick cave began to clench and release themselves at a faster pace. Tingles rose up my body, swirling against my lower abdomen, almost numbing my lower half entirely. Then, a searing sensation ripped through me, causing my hips to raise from the bed and my knees to shake. A low scream left my mouth as I felt the throbbing of my bud increase tremendously.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” My hips fell on the bed again and my legs shook violently. Kirishima steadied them as much as he could before a whole another wave hit my body and my entire being went still.

“Ah! Eijiro!” I screamed as the pleasure shot through my body for the last time. Pants left my throat and short spurts, just as sweat dripped from my forehead. I looked down at Kirishima, who had just pulled away from my spasming cunny. He had a look of astonishment on his face, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked down at my wrecked body, taking in the shaking limbs, the thin layer of sweat upon it, and the scrunched-up dress at the waist.

“You sounded so hot screaming my name,” he finally said after a few seconds of silence. “No one has ever made it sound so good as you.”

“Well, grab a condom and I’ll scream your name for the rest of the night,” I replied with a smirk. “If you can last that long.”

“Oh, baby,” Kiri’s smile widened. “You have no idea.”

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a box of condoms from the top drawer. He ripped one off the sleeve and walked back over to me. I pulled the scrunched-up dress over my head and tossed it to the side. I looked over at Kiri and he’d already stripped himself of his T-shirt. He was currently unbuckling his belt with the condom packet in his mouth. His massive bulge immediately caught my eye and I moaned in anticipation. Kirishima rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls latex down his throbbing shaft. My walls clench at the delicious sight and I could feel my nipple begin to stiffen

“If you’re still tired, we can wait a little—” Kirishima begins to say before I cut him off.

“Eijiro, stop being nice and fuck me like a slut.”

His lips were on mine within the next heartbeat. His hands roamed every crevice of my body, taking in the soft tissue and stretchmarks lovingly. His throbbing member slowly slid into me with little to no friction. He made sure to thumb my clitoris while inserting himself, just so he wouldn’t hurt me. And I swear, I was seconds away from asking him to marry me. He gently moved his hips backward, and then pushed forward again. Highlighting his first stroke. He looked at the crimson hue on my face and leaned down to kiss me.

“You are so pretty, princess,” Kiri groaned softly, as he moved his hips at a gentle pace. “So, so pretty.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. Our tongues danced together as his member tenderly kissed my sensitive walls with each thrust. Kirishima moaned against my lips, as he took in every part of that union. He hiked up one of my legs and hooked it around his waist while he cradled the back of my neck with the other. He looked into my eyes as he increased the pressure of his strokes and their depth. My mouth hung open, and drool poured from the side of it as he kept up the sickening pace. My eyes began to roll back as throat moans rose from the depth of my body.

“Oh God. . .” I slurred as the pleasure increased within my body.

“Aww look at my pretty baby,” Kiri grunted as he rested his hand on my neck. He pressed his thumb between my lips.

I sucked on the digit and looked into his eyes. He moved his hips faster and my lips separated from around the finger. Pants fell from my lips as I felt his member sensually assault my cervix. After a few minutes, Kirishima suddenly pauses and hikes one of my legs up to his shoulders. He readjusts his body, leaving his hand on my neck and placing his hand on my clit. Kiri began to rock his hips in a powerful, but steady motion. He rubs the throbbing bud in a gentle motion, slowly gathering every ounce of pleasure within my body. The pace of my breathing increased rapidly, as the pool in my stomach began to inflate. Whimpers fell from my lips as I gripped the sheets underneath me.

“I’m so close. . .” I whispered through tight lips. “Please don’t stop. . .”

“You’re squeezing me so deliciously tight, baby,” Kirishima grunts as a droplet of sweat drops from his brow. “Milking my cock for everything it’s worth. What a greedy little cunny you have.”

“Eijiro. . . I wanna cum so bad,” I whimpered through pants. “Please let me cum, baby.”

Kirishima curses under his breath and releases his hand from my throbbing bud. He places both hands onto my neck, thumbs pressing against my jaw. He eases his body forward and keeps his sickening pace. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

I sucked in a breath and wrapped my hands around his forearms. I furrow my brows and pant with my mouth open. “You make me feel so good, Eiji. So fucking good!”

“You’re mine, you hear me?” He drops his hands from my neck and presses his forehead to mine. “You don’t get to fuck anyone else. . . . .You don’t get to be with anyone else. . . .My name will be the only name you moan for the rest of your life, do you understand?”

I nod. “I understand.”

“You’re mine and no one else's.”

He pulls me into a searing hot kiss. Drinking in all the love and energy throughout my body. I hook my arms around his neck and moan against his lips. Suddenly, I felt an intense rush of adrenaline pass through my body and everything seemed to go silent. A low ringing noise sounded in my ear as my mouth fell open. I dug my arms into his back and clung to his body. Every fiber of my being tensed and my mind went completely blank for several seconds. Then, slowly, my body released itself and collapsed onto the bed. I opened my eyes lazily to see Kirishima’s eyes tightly closed and his hips slightly shaking. Once he finished his ride, his body relaxed and he lowered my leg from his shoulder. He pulled me into an embrace and pressed another kiss onto my lips.

I pulled away from the kiss and looked into his crimson eyes. “Were you serious about calling me yours?”

“Ugh. . . yes?” He replied hesitantly. Then, he added “If that’s okay with you! I don’t wanna force you—”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I cut him off with a smirk.

“Oh, I was worried for a second.”

“The only thing you should be worried about is your Advanced American History grade.”

“Oh, right. . .”

“You miss another one of my sessions, I’ll ignore you again.”

“Please don’t! I will be present at every session.”

“Good. And you have to be Starbucks.”

“The drink that tastes like the moon?”

“Matcha latte with 2 pumps of chai. Yup.”

“And two chocolate cake pops.”

“Mhm. You know me so well.”

[lilyofthesword-writes]

The Intern (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: Loki takes an interest in the latest of a long line of Stark’s interns.

Pairing: Loki x Reader (Can be read as platonic, if preferred)

Word Count: 2,809

Disclaimers/Warnings: None. Just a bit of fluff.

A/N: This wound up turning into something entirely different from the original concept. Just kinda went with what felt right. Also trying desperately to remember working with an Arduino board to make this at least semi-accurate.

Masterlist

Loki traipsed aimlessly through the Tower, his overly-friendly insomnia having kept him up past four in the morning again. Nothing seemed to help him sleep and he constantly grew bored laying around in his room waiting for exhaustion to overtake him. Wandering about seemed as good as anything. Sometimes he would come across something interesting. It seems now would be that time.

He rounded the corner and found himself gazing through the wall-length windows of Tony Stark’s lab. The armor-less Iron Man was passed out in a chair, head haphazardly lolling on a table. Usually, he was still working and would be until at least seven a.m. before Pepper would literally drag him to bed.

Movement at the other end of the room caught his eye. There you were, pulling a blanket out of the cupboard. You crossed the lab and placed the well-used cloth over Stark’s shoulders before returning to your work. Sliding your safety glasses on, you put all your focus into soldering some wires to a board.

What in the nine realms were you doing here at this hour? The sun hadn’t even reached the horizon yet. None of his previous interns ever started their days before nine. Albeit, they had barely lasted a week while you broke a record at just over a month, but the point still stood. Why were you here?

“Are you just going to stand there like a creeper, Loki, or are you going to come in and hang out?” you called out, not even bothering to tear your eyes away from the wiring.

Well, this excursion could prove to be interesting. Loki slithered through the doorway to stand opposite of you at your table.

“So what are you doing up this early?” you murmured. If it weren’t for you glancing up at him, someone may have thought it was more of a question for yourself.

Loki huffed a laugh. “I could ask you the same question.”

That elicited a quirky smile from you. “Woke up way before my alarm and couldn’t fall back asleep. Figured I’d start my day early.” You gestured toward Stark with the soldering iron. “This one over here is pretty lenient on the hours.”

“I would hope so,” Loki chuckled, “considering his own schedule.”

“A schedule that consists of planned energy drink breaks. Definitely one of the more interesting employers out there.”

“I suppose you could say that,” he mumbled, leaning heavily on his forearms propped on the table.

You set down the soldering iron in its stand and shut if off. “So I answered your question. How about you?”

“I simply could not sleep,” he nonchalantly replied.

“Hmm...” you hummed. “Lemme guess. A member of Insomniacs Anonymous?”

His chuckle reverberated through the room. This was probably one of the reasons Stark kept you around. You certainly had a particular snarky confident air about you.

Yet the corners of your mouth suddenly hung low and your brow scrunched together. “It’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“Pardon?” He was confused at your change in demeanor.

“It’s not as simple as you couldn’t sleep. There’s more to it.”

Loki’s lips parted in astonishment. Here you were in your first true encounter with him and you read him like an open book. What had you been told?

“I won’t make you say anything.” You held your hands up in a placating manner. “You probably don’t want to, and that’s okay. However.” You grabbed the notepad next to you and scribbled something on it, ripping off the paper and sliding it towards him. “If you’re ever bored and I’m not here, you can text me. I’ll probably answer.”

He reluctantly took the note that had your number written on it. “I cannot say I am very adept with these cellular devices.”

“Pretty sure you’re clever enough to figure it out,” you grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “But seriously, no pressure. The offer is always out there.”

“Wha?!” Stark snorted himself awake, his eyes shooting around wildly. “Rudolf? What’re you doing here?” He eyed Loki suspiciously. “You’re not going to scare away my intern, are you? That’s my job.”

You laughed, keeping Loki from spitting a venomous retort. “Good luck with that. You’ll have to try a lot harder if that’s what you’re going for, Stark.”

“Obviously. You haven’t run off yet. I’m surprised.” He took the blanket that was wrapped around him and began folding it. “Pleasantly surprised.”

“Sure, sure!” You waved him off.

Stark looked at his watch and swiped a hand through his purposely messy bed head. “It’s that time already. I better get breakfast before Pepper finds me... Alright!” He clapped. “Both of you, let’s go! Time for grub!”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up across his forehead. Was Stark actually having him join the two of you for breakfast?

“Yes, you too, Reindeer Games! One, I don’t want you in the lab alone.” That earned him Loki’s scowl. “Two, you seem to be behaving, so why not have you eat with us.”

You nudged Stark’s arm while shooting Loki an inconspicuous wink. “Awww, look at you! Already getting into Dad Mode and little Morgan hasn’t even entered the world yet.”

He nudged you back. “Yeah, yeah, yeah! Now come on. I’m starving!”

You continued to tease him as you followed him out of the lab with Loki close behind.

Loki lay in bed a few nights later, lost in thought. He could not get you out of his head. You had spoken with him like you would anyone else, deflected and stood up for him despite hardly knowing him. In the few years since he had been thrown to Midgard as punishment, Thor was the only one to show him a sliver of kindness, but even he held some hesitation. You did not. Your earlier interaction was genuine. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all.

In his perpetual deliberation, he had avoided the lab since that morning. Not that he didn’t like you. It was the uncertainty that kept him away, but that wouldn’t last much longer.

His phone settled lax in his hand, your name illuminating the screen. You had been right about him being able to learn how to text. Now it was a matter of completing the action. Tossing the phone to his other hand, he glared at the bright screen. His message had already been written. All he had to do was select “Send”. The clock at the top of the screen read two a.m. Surely, you would be asleep... But what if you weren’t?

With a huff, he pinched his eyes shut and hit the button, the swooshing sound seemingly echoing off the walls. The following silence was deafening. Luckily for him, the reply swoosh fell inline shortly after.

You: Hey, Loki. Can’t sleep?

Loki: How did you know who this was without me saying?

You: I can’t think of anyone else who would text me at this hour. ;)

Loki: I apologize if I woke you.

You: Nah. Already up. Trouble staying asleep. So what’re you up to?

Loki: Texting you.

You: Other than that, Mischief

Loki: Thinking.

You: Yeah? About what?

Loki: Possibly meandering through the Tower, again.

You: Liar ;)

Loki: Pardon?

You: You were obviously thinking about me.

Loki: What makes you say that?

You: You had to be. At least in the context that it would be better to text me than exploring.

Loki: Fair enough. Now, how do you know I am not planning to choose both?

You: You got me there.

—

Loki met you at the lab later that morning. The familiar sight of Stark was passed out, snuggling his face to a countertop, greeted you both.

Shaking your head, you huffed a laugh as you passed through the doorway. “Can’t really reprimand him when my sleep schedule is just as bad.”

Loki’s lips curled into a light smirk but didn’t speak a word lest Stark awaken and force him to leave. Despite your two hour texting session, he had been looking forward to joining you here.

“Thanks for meeting me here, by the way,” you called out to him as still stood just at the edge of the lab. “A little company while working is kind of nice. Gets too quiet when Stark finally shuts down.”

Taking a seat across from you, Loki quirks an eyebrow. “Would that not be considered a blessing?”

You stifled a chuckle as you flipped on the soldering iron and pulled out what roughly looked like a vambrace. The board you had been working on previously was molded to the shape. “If that happened by the end of my workday, yes. This early in the morning? Not so much. It’s boring if not a little eerie.”

“I see... So I am only here for your entertainment,” he feigned offense.

You gasped dramatically, “Me? Never!”

Laughing with you, Loki made himself a bit more comfortable as he watched you work. At the moment, you were adding tiny capacitors and securing them into place.

“If I may, what are you trying to accomplish?”

“Well,” you started, glancing up at him. “It’s a new piece of armor. Other than that, I technically shouldn’t say much else.”

“Right... Classified information?”

There was a twinkle of mischief in your eyes as you looked at him again. “It is a secret, but nothing quite as official as that.”

Loki leaned across the tabletop, supporting his chin in his hand. “So there is no harm in you revealing your project,” he tested.

“Harm? No. However, there will be disappointment on my end if you figure it out.”

“I accept this challenge,” he grinned playfully.

You smirked back,“As you wish, Mischief. I won’t make this easy for you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Darling.”

The next several weeks chaotically blurred together. At first, you allowed Loki to observe your project as you worked on it. Once the vambrace began to take on a more unique form, you were hiding it in the mornings, opting to take on a different assignment when he was in the room. The design was strikingly Asgardian, leading him to believe the new armor was for Thor. He just needed to figure out what it did. He spoke with his brother on multiple occasions but was unable to glean anything from him. Either he had no clue or suddenly learned to lie well enough to fool Loki, the latter highly doubtful.

Apart from politely harassing you via text, Loki took to locating your hiding spots, something that proved difficult when the lab was almost always occupied by you, Stark or Banner at varying times. Stark was helping you keep this little secret, a sparkle in his eyes whenever he shooed Loki from the room when he was caught investigating. Even Banner was in on it, albeit reluctantly.

Then there was that Doctor Strange who was showing up every few days, joining you all in the lab much to Loki’s chagrin. By that point, Stark had banned him from the entire floor. The project must have been coming to a close if you all were trying to cover it up so desperately. But why Strange? Was he imbuing the vambrace with magic to protect Thor better? (Not that he really needed it.) His curiosity was certainly getting the better of him, going so far as to shape-shift as one of you three when Strange wasn’t around to get into the room. Somehow, Friday always knew and alerted the lab’s occupants who would send him back to the elevator.

It was early one morning as he was perusing the contents of the shared kitchen that you initiated contact with him. He was surprised since he had been the one to text you first lately to see if you would spill your secret.

You: Hey. Can you stop by the lab?

Loki: Oh? I thought I was banned.

You: Lifted as of a few minutes ago. So?

Loki: I suppose I might be able to grace you with my presence.

You: So kind of you, my King ;)

His heart skipped a beat at you calling him “your King”. You only used it in a teasing fashion when he was acting high and mighty. Even then, it still flustered him.

Loki made his way to the elevator, deeming it a bit devious to take the long way to the lab. You had made him wait all this time. It was your turn.

The doors reopened on the lab floor, revealing that his ploy to annoy had worked. You were leaned against the wall next to the elevator, waiting for his arrival.

“Finally! Come on!”

You audaciously grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the room with an impatient grin. Stopping him near your normal workstation, you demanded he close his eyes.

“Excuse me?” he responded incredulously, ripping his arm from your grasp.

“Please, Loki...” Your pleading eyes grew larger as you pouted at him.

Stark groaned, “Just do it, Reindeer Games, or I’ll cover them for you.”

Loki’s lips reared into a snarl as he glared at the billionaire before relenting and clenching his eyelids shut. Norns, how he hated those nicknames.

“Okay!” Excitement laced your voice. “Would you hold up your dominant hand?”

“Making more demands, Darling?”

“I did ask nicely this time.”

“That you did,” he chuckled a complied, holding out a hand.

“Perfect!”

He felt a metallic weight placed on his forearm before it was clasped together with a comfortable tightness.

“Okay. You can look now!”

The sight of the vambrace on his arm left Loki’s mouth agape. The main black of the piece was lined with gold Asgardian knot designs with runes placed in a handful of the empty spaces. Near his wrist, an artificial emerald was embedded in the armor. If he had to be completely honest, the aesthetics could rival much of the armor back home.

“Well, Kid. It looks like you rendered him speechless.” Stark nudged your arm.

Loki’s gaze shot up to the two of you. Stark was leaning against the workstation while you had hoisted yourself to sit atop it, nothing but grins on either of your faces.

“What is this-”

You cut him off, “It’s for you. We noticed after some of your missions where you had to use your seiðr more than usual, you’d end up exhausted before getting back to the Quinjet. The new armor should help with that. It’s supposed to amplify your magic without draining you.”

Stark shoved you lightheartedly, again. “The kid noticed. Told ‘em if they could come up with something that could work, I’d give whatever resources needed for the project.”

“So what do you think? I mean we still need to undergo more testing and calibrations before you can use it in the field, but-”

“You made this?” Loki locked barely tearing eyes with you. “For me?”

“Yup! Kid designed the whole thing!” Stark kept you from answering. “Minus the bits we had to bring Strange in for the wizard-y things, this was a solo run. Did a pretty good job. Not sure I could have done much better.”

“Stark...” you grumbled, clearly not used to the praise.

“This is...” Loki tore his gaze away back to the vambrace. “I don’t... I don’t know what to say.” His voice was just loud enough for you to hear.

“A ‘thank you’ would be a good start. Now maybe this little intern will get more sleep,” Stark blundered before checking his watch. “Well, it’s about time for my morning scolding. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me!”

With that he whisked himself out of the room and to the elevator, leaving you and Loki in a terribly awkward silence.

“Hey...” you started. “If you don’t like it, we can scrap the design. It’s not a big deal-”

“Thank you.” His pupils were filled with a sincere gratefulness that few had ever seen before. “This is... This is simply splendid.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

Loki spun on his heel to fully face you, his hands coming to rest on the countertop on either side of you. “I mean it, Darling. This... No one has ever done something like this for me before. I would be honored to be your test subject,” he ended with a smirk.

“Well, if that’s the case,” you grinned right back at him, “I’d say let’s get some breakfast first. There will be plenty of time to optimize the vambrace later.”

Pulling back enough to release you from his cage of arms, he gestured for you to lead the way. “After you,” he breathed.

Hopping down from the table, you held out a hand for him. Hesitantly, Loki took it while running a thumb over your knuckles as you pulled him to the elevator with you.

[storiesbymads]

GIVE IT UP ( tyson jost . )

You find yourself at your ex’s house party despite the fact that you’ve pretty much convinced him and yourself that you hate him. Apparently, he’s not that fond of you either. At least, that’s what he wants you to think.

warnings: smut, hate sex, unprotected sex

wc: 2.6k

add yourself to my taglist + masterlist

It was shocking of how quickly the sweet boy who once would’ve done anything to see you smile turned into the man before you that managed to get a rise out of you without even directly speaking to you.

Granted, most of that was your fault. All he’d wanted was a break, a few weeks, maybe a month apart to think things over. You’d been the one to suggest a full breakup.

“Tys-“ you stopped yourself. “Tyson.”

His pacing stalled, the hand that had been furiously running through his curls fell to rest on his hip as he turned to face where you were sitting on the couch. The couch you’d helped him pick out when he’d first moved into this apartment. The one he’d first kissed you on three years ago, though it was a bit more beat up now than it had been then. It was a faded blue in color now.

“What,” he halfway snapped. The tone of his voice caused you to flinch at his words, which almost sent Tyson into a deeper downward spiral had he not been so desperate to get through this evening without you killing each other.

“You know this isn’t working,” you said. “Not like it used to.”

“Then why are you fighting with me about taking a few weeks to figure things out,” he sighed before moving to sit on the matching ottoman in front of you.

“Please don’t make me say it out loud,” you said. Your jaw was trembling as you didn’t know how much longer you could keep looking him in the eye without breaking down.

Tyson’s hands were quick to start rubbing his eyes, almost painfully so as the heels of them dug in.

“You don’t mean it,” he whispered.

“Tyson.”

“I still love you,” he sighed.

“We had a great run, yeah?” you smiled sadly at him as you picked yourself up off the couch. “I’ll be back to get my things in the next week or so.”

And that probably would’ve been the end of it had Andre not been your best friend. He was, and he claimed, the best guy in your life before Tyson and he was going to stay that way after Tyson.

Sure, parties were awkward but it was nothing you couldn’t get through without a couple girl friends and some distance. And a handle of pink whitney.

“You’re kidding!” you gasped as your old college roommate gushed about her new boyfriend and their bedroom antics. “There’s no way you let him do that!”

“Long time no see, sunshine,” a familiar brown haired swede said as he pulled you into his side by the hip. You could tell the drink in his hand was far from his first based on the slur of his words and the way the snapback was situated sideways on his head.

“Hey, Dre,” you said before pecking his cheek quickly and sipping on the drink in your own hand. Contrary to your usual party behavior, you were only about half of the way through your first.

“Yeah, sunshine,” you heard Tyson say from behind you. The smile on your face wiped away into a scowl within seconds. “Long time no see.”

You opted to ignore him, continuing your conversation with your roommate, Savannah, as Andre left your side to join the beer pong game in the corner.

“Aw, c’mon. It’s not my fault you’re desperate enough to come to your ex’s house party,” he mocked as he shuffled his way closer to you.

“Aw, it’s not my fault your other eye’s just begging for a matching shiner,” you cooed. You could feel his breath against your pulse point as he leaned in closer.

“Think you have it in you?” he asked, voice grovely as it dropped an octave. Scoffing, you pushed away from him in search of anyone else to talk to. You couldn’t stand the fact that he was still able to jump start your heart rate after all these years, especially after all the things he’s said to you after you’d broken up.

You shouldn’t even be going to this part. You wouldn’t be had Andre not literally dragged you into his car with a promise that you wouldn’t even see Tyson, let alone have to speak to him.

“You haven’t been out in months, sunshine,” he said as he pulled out of your apartment complex. “We miss you.”

“You missed me,” you sighed, pulling your head up from where it was resting against the cool glass of the window.

“The team misses you,” he said, temporarily taking his hand off the wheel to pinch your hip. The team minus Tyson, you thought.

The party itself was fine for a while. You’d practically attached yourself to Andre’s side, not that he was complaining. He was just glad to have you in a social situation again. You were actually having fun for the first time in a while playing flip cup with some of the guys. Tyson had practically slipped your mind, another first.

Until he decided to, rather harshly, drag you away from the table.

“What are you doing here?” he rushed out as he clicked the lock on the bathroom door.

“Dre- Andre invited me,” you stuttered. The party was still going strong outside the room and you could feel the bass through the floor.

“God, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re here because my teammate invited you?” he scoffed. The shock in his eyes had since shifted to something more of disgust.

“We broke up, Tyson,” you said.

“Exactly! We broke up!” he said, throwing his hand up in the air. Your eyes stayed glued to the lock behind him.

“I didn’t come here to see you,” you said, though it came out more like a whimper. You swore you saw something crack in Tyson’s eyes before his resolve went back up.

“That’s rich, even coming from you.”

“God, you’re such a dick, Jost,” you pushed past him, wiping a tear away before it had the chance to fall as you unlocked the bathroom door.

You hated him. You hated him.

Thankfully the kitchen was empty when you found yourself there. You weren’t looking for anything, your cup was still mostly full.

How was Tyson always able to find you in a crowd? Even when you were actively avoiding him like the plague, he somehow managed to sneak up behind you and send your head into a downward spiral.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing thinking so much at a party,” an unfamiliar voice said from beside you, pulling you from your daze.

“I’m not-“ you cut yourself off. “It’s just…”

“Whoa, don’t burst a blood vessel,” he smiled at you. His comment was awkward at best, but the soft look in his eyes made up for it. He was cute.

“Sorry,” you chuckled. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jason,” he responded, clinking your red cups together in a fake toast.

Jason, you learned, was a bartender at the Star Bar in downtown Denver. Though, that was a temporary job as he worked on his masters in biochemistry. You ended up telling him a story about the time you found yourself being escorted out of said Star Bar from dancing on the bar.

“If you’ll excuse me, I really have to go to the ladie’s room,” you said, starting to walk past him in the now crowded kitchen before turning back to face the blond. “Would you mind holding my drink?”

“Sure,” Jason said, even going as far as putting his own drink down so that he could cover the top of yours fully with his hand. Maybe this party hadn’t gone completely to shit.

The line to the bathroom was nonexistent and you’d managed to finish your business in record time. You checked your appearance in the mirror before clicking the lock on the bathroom door and opening it to see the one person you really wished you hadn’t.

He pushed his way through, slamming the door and locking it behind him.

“What are you doing, Jost? Let me out,” you said.

“You really think you can come here and flirt with some random guy in my kitchen?” he scoffed. With every word he took another half step closer to you until your back was pressed against the far wall.

“What do you mean your kitchen?”

“Did Dre not tell you? Can’t believe this is the fourth time you’ve been here and you didn’t even know who’s apartment it was. I think that’s a little rude, if you ask me,” he cooed. Four times; he was counting. He’d made a mental note every time you’d been sitting on his couch and he’d been too fucked up about it to do anything.

His knee pushed your thighs apart as his hands found solace on the wall beside your head. You felt the sudden urge to spit in his face. Or to let him spit in yours.

This was much more possessive than he’d ever acted when you were together. Granted, he hasn’t acted the same way he’d been when you were together in the year and a half you’d been apart.

“Answer me,” he hummed. “It’s rude isn’t it.”

You tilted your head to the side in response only for Tyson’s thigh to press up further so that it was resting against your core. You took the sudden close proximity between the two of you to gauge the changes in his features. Most obviously was the beard he was sporting now, he’d never been able to accomplish more than a patch here or there while you were dating despite his best efforts. His shoulders were more filled out now, too, and his curls looked longer. He looked more… mature, if that was the word for it.

“Answer me,” he tutted. “Or am I gonna have to fuck it out of you?”

“You’re a lot bolder than I remember, Jost,” you gasped. There was a definite wet spot growing in your underwear at the rasp in his tone.

“You’re just as annoying,” he said before one of his hands found your hip. His mouth came crashing against yours an instant later, a rough mess of teeth clanging together as he popped the button on your jean shorts. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure I’ll fuck that out of you, too.”

The comment caused a gasp to slip past your lips as he removed his knee so that he could tug your bottoms to your ankles in one fell swoop. His fingers were quick in replacing the delicious pressure against your clit, circling the nub with the pad of his finger.

“Do you still make those pretty little noises you used to make?” he asked, only to pull a whimper out of you not even a second later when he slipped a finger into your hole.

“You’re still a dick,” you moaned as you dropped your head to rest against his shoulder. You bit down on the cotton of his t-shirt to conceal the whimper of emptiness as Tyson slipped his finger out of you so that he could push the band of his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to slip out.

“Yeah? And you’re about to cum all over it.”

The string of profanities that followed from your part were involuntary.

He pushed into you slowly until he was halfway in before snapping his hips forward in one quick motion so that your pelvic bones were pressed together. You hadn’t felt this full since… Well, since him.

“Fucking-“ he hissed. “I forgot how tight you were.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he started thrusting his hips. You would’ve been able to admire it longer had your eyes not rolled into the back of your head. Your hand slipped down between your bodies to rub your clit only to be swatted away and replaced by Tyson’s a moment later.

His name rolled off your tongue like a chant as you felt your orgasm building with each pump of his hips.

“I’m gonna cum, holy shit,” you said.

“That’s right, baby. Cum all over my cock,” he said. The rhythm of his thrusts was getting sloppier by the second and you could tell he was getting close. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where do you want it?”

“What?” you asked, head still very hazy from the impending orgasm.

“I can’t cum inside you—shit,” his thrusts slowed. “Where do you want it?”

“I’m on the pill,” you rushed out in hopes that he’d start fucking you again. The thought alone almost had him falling apart.

“Holy shit, ok,” he mumbled before picking up his thrusts once again. It was a step the two of you hadn’t taken before, and he was dying to see his cum drip out of you.

“Fuck, Tys,” the words came out rushed as your high washed over you. Tyson came soon after as ropes of it coated your walls in hot spurts.

Your senses came back to you as you came back down. What the fuck were you doing? Why did you allow yourself to hook up with the ex you were still pretty sure you hated in a bathroom.

“I-I’ve gotta go,” you said, pushing Tyson off, and subsequently out, of you so that you could pull up your shorts and button them.

“Wait, Y/N,” the flustered, blushing Tyson you thought you’d never see again made an appearance as you threw the bathroom door open just as he tucked himself back into his boxers. The fly of his blue jeans was undone as he chased you out of the bathroom, practically begging you to stop as he followed you out the front door.

“Leave me alone, Jost,” you scoffed as you watched him zip his pants out of the corner of your eye.

“There’s no way you’re gonna go back to hating me after that,” he said. You could feel his cum dripping into your panties as he spoke.

“We made our decision last year. We should’ve left it at that,” you shivered in the open exterior of his apartment complex, silently cursing yourself for thinking a jacket would ruin your outfit.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” a dry chuckle slipped from his lips. “After all of that? After a year and a half of pretending, you can’t admit it?”

“I wasn’t pretending-“

“Like hell you weren’t. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret even mentioning the idea of a break between us. What we had doesn‘t just go away,” he took a step towards you. You could still hear the music from inside his place, though it was fainter now and still half-muffled by the various conversations just past the front door.

“We weren’t working out,” you said, though it came out as more of a squeak.

“You and I both know we could’ve worked on it. We were stupid to let what we had go over nothing,” he said. “I miss you.”

Your resolve was breaking more with every word.

“Jost, what if this doesn’t work?” you asked, allowing him to get close enough to take your hand in his. It was quite the contrast to the way he’d been with you not even ten minutes ago.

“Would you stop calling me that?” his features were screwed tight as he asked. “You only call me that when you’re mad at me.”

“Tyson,” you said, only to be greeted with a knowing look in his brown eyes. “Tys.”

“We’re gonna work out,” he said. “We’re gonna work out because…”

“Because?”

“Because I still love you. And I’m not letting you go again,” his voice had lowered to a whisper and it shook and his forehead was dangerously close to resting against yours. Within the span of an hour, he’d transformed back into the shy boy you’d given your heart to three years ago on his blue couch.

“Ok,” you whispered back, closing the distance and resting your foreheads against each other only for Tyson to bridge the gap completely with a tilted head to plant his lips against your own.

tagged @ptersparkers @annedub @corebore123 @damndunner @kiedhara @watermelon05 @sidscrosbyy @thelionkingpw @besthockeyfics @iwantahockeyhimbo @beauvibaby

[cuddlesslut]

Part Eight: Hope

Atsumu x fem reader , Suna x fem Reader, Hinata x Fem reader

A/N: I’m so sorry it took so long to put out this chapter I’m gunna try to do better on posting faster. I’ve had a lot of stuff happening irl. I love see so many of your write in for the poll 😂 I did not expect Sakusa to pop off! I hope y’all like this chapter. Again it’s still kind of short but I wanted to get it posted. Also you can’t convince me Hinata doesn’t use an all in one cleanser!

Warning: crude language, not much angst, some fluff.

Part Seven: Regrets

Hinata stared at his phone questioning whether he should message you again. It had been four days since you ran out of his apartment. You had yet to respond to any of his texts. As concerned as he is he knows no good will come from spamming you. Although he wants nothing more than for you too talk to him. He was so confused where you both stood. But he was sure of one thing, and that was that things couldn’t go back to the way they were before. He can’t go back to pushing down his feelings and pretending he doesn’t want to be more. That he didn’t want to call you his and show you off to the world. To take you out on dates try new experiences and make memories with you. He can’t keep acting like he doesn’t dream of waking up to you in his arms every morning. He wants to be there with you every step in life and support you no matter what. He wants to show you that you are the most amazing woman he’s ever known. As much as the sex is amazing it’s not worth holding back anymore. He knows you may still not be ready for a relationship and he wouldn’t think about pressuring you into one after how horribly your last ended, he’d gladly wait for you to be ready but he has to be honest with his feelings instead of torturing himself.

The sound of his alarm snapped him out of his daze. Time to get ready for practice, he groaned pulling himself from the comfort of his bed before heading to the shower to start his day. He shuffled in the bathroom hooking up his phone to his Bluetooth speaker starting up with morning playlist beginning his morning routine. He loved jamming in the shower. He turned the water on letting the heat build as he brushed his teeth before climbing into the steaming shower bopping his head to the beat of silhouette by Kana-boon having to refrain himself from attempting to naruto running in the slippery bath. He stood there for a moment enjoying the heat hitting his back and loosening his muscles. Losing himself in the music as he grabbed his three in one, body wash, shampoo and conditioner. He scrubbed his hair and body screaming the lyrics to the next song. “Sawaras nai kimi wa shojo wa na no Boku wa yarichinbitchi no osu da yo !!,” he was jamming out when the song was interrupted by the sound of a notification. He thought nothing of it figuring it was just Bokuto-San. When the chimes continue his curiosity won out as he peeked out passed the curtain still covered in bubbles to see who was spamming his phone. His eyes grew wide as he saw your name lighting up his notifications. He rushed for his phone loosing his balance and slamming the shower wall to keep himself from falling on his ass as he scrambled out still dripping and soapy as he stood in bathroom unlocking his phone.

YN-Chan 🧡: Hey Shoyo

YN-Chan🧡: you’re usually up by now so I thought I’d message you to say I’m soo soo sorry for how I ran out the other day.

YN-Chan🧡: honestly I should have messaged you days ago but I’ve just been dealing with a lot . It’s no excuse but still I’m sorry.

YN-Chan 🧡: look I totally understand if you don’t want talk to me after how I acted but if you do I was hoping we could get together and talk?

Hinata could see the text bubble at the bottom showing she was typing but he wasted no time pulling up the call button needing to here your voice. It rang two times before connecting. His heart clinched hearing your soft hello.

“Hey Sho,” you answered.

“Hey there YN-Chan,” he greeted back.

He could here a sense of nervousness in your tone. “Hey sorry if interrupted anything.” He realized how hard he was breathing from excitement and from nearly dying trying to escape his shower.

“Oh no no, its fine I wasn’t busy,” he feigned nonchalance. There was a beat of silence as you both searched for words.

“Umm you had said you wanted to talk?” He questioned. He was really concerned for why you ran off that day.

“Oh yeah but I’d much rather talk in person, is there anyway we could get together soon I understand if you’re busy,”

“I’m free tonight,” he cursed himself for how desperate he sounded, “uhh do you want to come over tonight?”

You chuckled at his eagerness. “If it’s okay with you maybe we could go out... to like dinner maybe,” his heart froze his mind reeling with excitement you had never gone out before. Always just opting to have food delivered and eating in. He couldn’t help but let his hopes rise.

“I know it’s not what we usually do so I get if you’re uncomfor-”

“I’d love to!” He cuts you off. Not wanting to miss this chance.

“A-awesome um is 7:30 good for you?” You questioned.

“Yep!” He could feeling his heart soaring as the plans started to solidify.

“Great well I’ll message you all of the details later, bye Sho umm I’ll see you tonight.”

“Goodbye YN-Chan, can’t wait!” He heard a small laugh leave your lips before the line disconnected. There is a wide smile spread across his face as leaning against the wall next to him not even upset that his shower water was now starting to run cold.

Hinata’s day was instantly better with thought of seeing you tonight the Idea of having a date with you filled him with joy. Everyone could see the difference in the outside hitter today compared to the last few practices. It’s was like he was in the zone. He was all over the court making the cleanest receives and his spikes were just so on point. It was time for there first water break and stretch. He sat on the bench taking a gulp of water a big smile present on his face when he checks his phone to see a message with a restaurant address. His teammates shared a look at the way the ginger stared at his phone.

“What’s got you so happy Hinata?” Sakusa questioned.

“Yeah Sho you’ve been on fire today plus you won’t stop smiling at your phone!” Bokuto boasted wrapping an arm around his newest teammate.

“That obvious huh?” Hinata grinned. “Well uhh the girl I’ve been talking to wants to go on a date tonight!”

“Oh yeah?” Atsumu smirked “the same girl that’s been marking up yer back recently?” Bokuto and the Setter busted into laughter when Hinata’s faced turned red. Sakusa rolled his eye at the childish behavior.

“Uh haha yeah that’s the one,” he chuckled rubbing the back of his head.

“Well if you’re already fuckin her why are you getting all giddy over a date?” The setter asked

“We’ve actually never been on date before,” Hinata admitted.

“Damn Sho, first date! Why’d you wait so long dude?” Bo wondered.

“Really Hinata-Kun I didn’t take you for the casual sex type,” Sakusa stated

“She’s a friend but I’ve like her pretty much since we met but she’s just not ready for a relationship,” he explains “ she has some bad history but we kept fooling around as friends. I’m so excited cause she asked if I wanted to get dinner so I’m hoping maybe she’s starting to open up to the idea.”

“Ha well good luck then bro,” Bokuto smacked him on the back laughing. The rest of them agreed in the well wishes before the whistle blew signaling the end of their break.

They resumed their intense training. Right now focusing on their serves and some indurance training. The coaches were wearing them out today going over and over drills. Soon enough they were in the locker room showering up a bit and changing as they got ready for their lunch break before they’d have to return to practice. The locker room filled with chatter as they discussed different plays they wanted to work on or where they wanted to grab lunch. There conversation was interrupted when one of the coaching assistants poked their head in.

“Miya-San your fiancé is here to see you, she waiting by the gym entrance.” He stated before turning to leave. All eyes were on the setter when he dropped his phone a look of shock present on his face. His mind was going a mile a minute he was so sure he miss heard the man . There was no way you were here. He stood up rushing to finish getting dressed. There was a pressure in the room he was ignoring some of his teammates sharing a confused look.

“I didn’t know you had a Fiancé Tsumu?” Hinata asked excitedly as the team started following behind the setter.

“That’s because he doesn’t,” Sakusa stated bitterly. Atsumu shot a dirty look back at the wing spiker.

“She left him months ago before you joined the team Shoyo-Kun, she’s are really nice girl though always brought us the best snacks when she’d visit,” Bokuto explained his hungry mind straying as he thought back to her delicious cooking.

“Oh I’m sorry Atsumu,” Hinata apologized.

“Don’t he deserved it,” Sakusa scoffed.

The setter paid no mind to comment there was no point in getting angry with the neat freak he was completely right. It didn’t matter at the moment what mattered was seeing you. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing there. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. You were looking at your hands picking at your nails. He could see you were nervous. So was he. What was he supposed to say he knew he owed you an apology and much more but it felt like he couldn’t breath looking at you. You looked up at him your eyes locking. There was a look he couldn’t quite pin point. It wasn’t exactly a look of hated which it was what he expected but it also nothing like the looks of love he used to receive. He didn’t even realize the boys had stopped behind him watching the scene. His eyes only focused on you and nothing else.

That is until he hears a sharp breath from behind him as Hinata called out your name. Bokuto and Sakusa’s eyes snapped to the ginger some confusion present. Atsumu however didn’t look away from you not even when you gaze shifted from the setter to his teammate. This look in your eyes he could distinguish. It was one you used to look at him with. It shattered Atsumu as he realized right then you were the woman Hinata had been talking about. It obvious when he saw a similar look of happiness on Shoyo’s face. It felt like a kick to the gut. An array of emotions swirling through his mind. He was hurt to think you moved on. Disgusted as he thought back to his earlier convo with the man and how they had discussed the scratches on his friends back and now realizing how they were from you. He felt like he was going to puke thinking of his teammate with you in that intimate way. But he knew he had no right to feel this way not after all he put you through so he pushed those emotions deep inside. Returning to the moment.

“Hi Sho,” you gave a small smile as you shuffled nervously in your spot.

“I thought we were getting dinner? We can switched to lunch if you need to tho.” He stated.

Sakusa and Bokutos eyes grew wide finally coming to the same conclusion the setter previously had. Sakusa had to stifle a laugh as Bo muttered “oh shit” under his breath at the awkward situation.

“Um actually Shoyo, I’d still like to get dinner with you. I know this must seem really confusing, and I promise to explain everything tonight, but uhh.. I actually here to see Miya-San.” You explain sheepishly.

Atsumu tried not to flinch at the use of his last name.

You turned to the blonde with a stoic face. “Can we get lunch, we really need to talk.” He nodded not knowing how to use his voice.

You turned back to Hinata with a pleasing look. “I’ll call you later before our date, Sho.” Before turning to leave with Tsumu.

Hinata may be beyond confused right now not yet connecting the dots. But that didn’t matter he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping. Date. It’s a date. He wasn’t overthinking or wishing hopefully. It was an actual date with you! The woman he can’t get out of his mind. And that one little comfort was enough for him to trust the situation as he watched you walk away.

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[shokobuns]

green light.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader

GENRE: angst, smut, gatsby au

WORD COUNT: 2.9k+

WARNINGS: smut (17+), angst, major character death, size kink, unprotected sex, implied overstim, praise

NOTES: this is for @erensbunny's collab! thanks for betaing @mitsuluv <3

Miles away from your own household, there’s nothing and no one.

Only a flower field that stretches beyond the horizon, the hues of orange and purple in the sky, round sunglasses and a picnic blanket. It’s miles of pink and green, far from family fortune, far from status, far from your own obligations. Places like these were too few and far between, but it doesn’t matter because life hasn’t started and there was nothing to tie you down just yet.

He interlocks his fingers with yours, bringing the back of your hand to his lips while you giggle, staring into his cerulean eyes. Your sundress stops at your ankles, ruffles following down in a pattern, and his button up fits loosely around his torso, the first few undone revealing his pale chest. His other hand comes up to caress your cheek, causing you to pull the brim of your hat down to hide your face, but he swats it away, wanting to admire your flushed cheeks.

The sunset perfectly illuminates your skin and while there was nothing to separate the two of you just yet, there will be something that does. And so, he treats every moment as if it was the last, memorizing the creases of your face when you smile, the pearls complimenting your skin, the sound of your laughter. You, on the other hand, don’t think much about what’s to come. Because for right now, you feel too much love, too much to the point where it clouds your thoughts of the future.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, Satoru.”

A small phrase that can only be uttered when you’re miles away, a place where it is just you and Satoru and you and Satoru only. And while you can fall into the rabbit hole of what they would think and what they would do and what might happen, you can also enjoy the way Satoru kisses down your neck, how he gently lays you down on the floral picnic blanket and hikes up your long dress.

A bright past and a dark present.

Both of you are miles away, yes, but not together.

Satoru faces the dark present in which you’ve slipped through his fingers and into the arms of Naoya Zenin. The dark present in which you have it all, a husband, a daughter, and a house to call your own while he is simply just a lonely man in a large, empty mansion. Even when he can see the green light flashing just across the bay, you still feel far away.

Despite the distance, he’s thankful that he gets the chance to see you at all, watching his neighbor and quickly introducing himself as the owner of the house. It was one party after another after another after another and at this point he’s lost count of how many dollars were spent on this single hope—the hope that you’d show up someday and he found it in his new neighbor.

You still remember that night that you ripped off your necklace, gorgeous and costing hundreds at the least, the pearls clattering on your hardwood floors, a tear stained letter—it was all so vivid. Drowning in your own sorrow and missed opportunity, the stench of alcohol on you and your bedsheets, it was not a night you would like to remember. Mostly because it reminds you of what you could have had and stirs up feelings of regret that makes you sick to your stomach every time you see your husband.

His face, chiseled perfectly and flat hair, sharp eyes and soft lips. When you wake up in the mornings and see his face, it only brings you disappointment. But the sound of your daughter’s feet pitter pattering through the hallways somewhat makes up for it. She doesn’t look like him and you thank whatever higher power is up there that she doesn’t. With wide set eyes and chubby cheeks, you only wish her an easy life where she can do the same—be a fool—but this time, with a man she loved.

Cradling her in your arms made the dark present not so dark. And your younger cousin being nearby only brightened it up just a little bit more.

What a lovely boy, inviting you over for tea. You had missed him in the years he was gone and it would be nice to escape the house once in a while. With a simple purple dress and pearl earrings, you’re out the door and into the car. After a silent fifteen minute drive, the driver stops in front of a quaint cottage, lively green grass and flowers growing along the little columns. The area surrounding his house is perfectly neat, trimmed, and organized. Already, you can tell the interior would be pleasing to the eye.

Megumi comes out of the house, politely walking you to his door and keeping you dry as the rain poured down onto the two of you. Just as you expected, the interior is just as beautiful, varieties of flowers on almost every surface, the colors complimenting each other. You stare, admiring the whites, the yellows, and the pinks of each petal, thankful that your little cousin went to such lengths for a small visit.

“Did you ransack a greenhouse, Gumi?”

He’s silent, still at the door, but you hear a small chuckle. “You know, it’s funny.”

“What’s funny?”

Just as the words leave your mouth, there’s a knock on his door and goes up to answer it. You go back to admiring the flowers for a few more seconds, but you feel a presence behind you and turn around only to be met with a man in a white suit, matching his newly styled hair, blue eyes piercing through you with an intense gaze, his sunglasses in hand. You’re frozen in place and your feet are unable to lift from the ground, but he takes a few hesitant steps towards you, waiting for some kind of reaction.

“Well, I’m certainly glad to be seeing you again.”

With that, he smiles, “I’m certainly glad to be seeing you, as well.”

“It’s… beautiful.”

“You like it?”

“I love it. But how do you live here all alone?”

“I don’t. It’s always full of interesting people.”

Every single shrub is neatly trimmed, water flows gently in the fountain, flowers blooming in the garden. The mansion is huge, too big for only one person, and pristine on both the inside and the outside. The first place Satoru takes you is out on the water where you sit by him, a drink in your hand, Megumi taking pictures of the scenery and the people around him. He holds out his hand for you to hold as you try to steady yourself on the float, a drink in one hand and the other holding onto his shoulder.

“Smile.” You hear Megumi say, but you’re far too busy with Satoru tickling your sides, squirming as he coos small teases. The camera clicks, capturing the both of you in the moment.

When he brings all of you back inside his home, you’re in awe of the sparkling chandelier hanging from his ceiling, the gold lining the walls of the second floor, the sturdy architecture, shiny black and yellow floors. It’s a contrast from what you would have expected from Satoru who was once a humble soldier, plucking from your bedroom in the night and bringing you to a faraway place just to escape. You were once ready to accept the reality that status set the two of you apart, but now you wonder if it even is an issue.

But you’re old money and he’s new money.

How did he acquire all of this? His house? His clothes? The entirety of his wealth? You’re not exactly sure, but you don’t let your mind wander, opting to run up the grand white staircase, getting to the second floor only to be met with a black floor so spotless that you can see your own reflection. Along with Megumi, he follows behind you, watching every single movement and every single expression on your face. Eventually, he catches up next to you, motioning for you to follow him into a room with a single bed and another small set of stairs, rambling about where he gets his clothes.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” You reply, excitedly looking around the room where there’s countless shelves, all full of fabrics. “They’re so beautiful.”

He smiles at you from above, beginning to pull the clothing from the shelves and throwing them down for you to see. You giggle, a wide smile plastered on your face as different pinks, whites, and purples take over your vision. “Satoru, you’re gonna ruin them!”

He’s careless, letting half of his wardrobe fly out in the air and you struggle to catch them all, falling over into the bed. You’re elated, the variety of clothing making you squeal in delight as you jump onto the mattress, sitting in the middle, surrounded by fabric of different patterns and colors. You’re buried in them and he doesn’t stop until the sound of your laughter starts to die down. His chest fills with concern as he races down the stairs to comfort your disoriented figure on the bed.

Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes, sliding down your cheeks and soon you feel his fingers come down to your chin to turn your head towards him. Although, you avoid eye contact, not wanting to confront the reality that it’s been five years. “Hey, shhh,” he coos, his voice softening, “What’s wrong, bunny?”

It’s a loaded question and you already have the answer in your head, on the tip of your tongue, but the more you think, the more you realize that there isn’t a right way to express it to Satoru. A daughter, a husband that you supposedly love, a life supported by old money. Five years away from the love of your life only for him to randomly appear back into your life during a time of stability. And even with your vague knowledge of Naoya’s mistress, you’re the perfect wife for him, foolish and obedient.

But still, your heart is drawn to Satoru—it always has been and it always will be.

“It— It makes me sad…” you reply with a meek voice, “The shirts… they’re just so beautiful.”

He chuckles, kissing the side of your head.

“Fuck! Satoru—” you squeal, his leaking tip prodding at your slit. It’s all familiar, but it doesn’t make it any easier to take him. After five years apart, you forget how big he is, veins running down the side of his pretty cock, long and heavy against your inner thigh. You’ve already lost how many times he’s made you cum on his mouth, your overstimulated cunt aching for more.

“I got you,” he mutters, rubbing your pearl in lazy circles as he pushes in, slowly filling you up inch by inch, “S-So big—”

‘“Yeah?” he coos, maintaining a bruising grip on your hips, “I’m barely halfway in. Just hold on, bunny.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face as he tries to distract with more kisses on your cheeks, gently brushing them away with his thumb. Your hole stretches to take him, splitting in half until you feel his tip kissing your cervix. His mouth latches onto your breast, his hips moving in slow strokes, his hands rubbing reassuring circles on the side of your thigh. “Such a good bunny,” he praises, “Pretty girl.”

“Mhm,” you squeak, feeling him as he starts to fasten the pace, wet squelches echoing throughout the entirety of the bedroom, “I- I missed you.”

“I missed— fuck!— you,” he replies, groaning at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. A string of drool connects his mouth to your nipple, drunk on your pussy, becoming more and more mindless as your cunt sucks him in. The pain of him stretching you out subsides, replaced by the heat building up in your lower tummy. His cock drags against your gummy walls, his fingers interlacing with yours as he fucks into you, juices flowing from your folds down to the white sheets.

“Say you love me,” he whispers against your lips, your eyes half lidded and mind empty, “Please…”

Your eyes open only slightly, making out cerulean eyes with blown out pupils, your own fingers threading through messy white hair, “I— I love you,” you reply, your mind hazy with lust, “Fuck, give it to me. Satoru, please—”

He kisses your bottom lip, knowing exactly what to do, his thrusts becoming harder and erratic, warm skin slapping against yours, balls tightening as he gets closer and closer to his high. His cock is covered in milky white and your grip on his hand tightens at the same time he can feel you squeezing around him like a vice, the coil snapping in your tummy. He brings his lips to yours, swallowing your moans.

“Hold on for a little while longer, bunny. For me, alright?”

You nod as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before fastening his pace, pounding against your cervix at a rapid speed. Drool spills from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolling back as the knot starts the build once again, your mind going numb as he blows his load into your swollen pussy, squeezing the plush of your hips.

“Love you,” he murmurs in your ear at the same time you’re ready to doze off, your post orgasm haze taking over you, “So much.” He continues, kissing your head.

“I love you, too,” you respond as he turns you to the side before interlocking your fingers together. It’s calming, it feels right and every moment eases your mind off the lost five years between the two of you. “Would you run away with me if you had the chance?”

You’re not sure if your mind is clouded with lust or if it was the feeling of finally being cherished by a man you wished you married or if every sense of rationality had already left you, but in a heartbeat, you respond easily.

“Yes.”

He presses his lips against your bare back before the both of you doze off together in a dreamless sleep.

It all feels surreal.

The last time you see Megumi, he tells you about the emptiness of the mansion, the vines growing against the walls, how the once trimmed bushes are now overgrown and you ask him to stop talking. As much as you love your little cousin, a mention of the house was just another reminder of what you could have had. It only fills you with regret and guilt.

Naoya kisses your head, but it’s not the same.

While you have your daughter to take care of, your husband to serve, it’s only natural for your mind to wander. It’s only natural for your heart to ache, your stomach to turn, your fists to clench. There’s too many questions of what if or what could have been. Would Satoru still be alive if you had followed through? Would you be happier? Did you make the right decision?

But once someone, anyone, walks into your room, reality hits you like a truck and you’re back to where you’re supposed to be. And your life isn’t horrible at all because when you snap back to reality, you snap back to green grass, the finest silks, and the pearls around your neck. You snap back to the perfect family, a strong husband that can protect you, a beautiful daughter that can live a simple life. It’s all old money, acquired not by bootlegging or running a speakeasy, but passed down through generations. While things aren’t perfect, they nearly are.

Still, what if you had taken your daughter with you, living in that huge mansion where the floors are spotless and gold lines the walls and ceilings?

Day by day, it eats at you and when moving day comes, it doesn’t get any easier. Maybe you weren’t cut out for this life—one where you had to worry about your status, one where you tied down to your family. Maybe you were perfect for it, overthinking each and every single problem that five lost years had caused you. You would forget about him one day, at least you think you would.

But you still remember cerulean eyes so clearly, round sunglasses, a pink tint on pale cheeks, soft lips, tousled ivory hair. And it hurts you every time because even after life, the image has a tug on your heart. He didn’t ever get to hear your last words to him, you weren’t there to comfort him, you didn’t even bother to attend his funeral. Megumi knows not to mention him around you, too. He keeps his filter on, processing his grief on his own.

Satoru reaches out to the green light across the bay, too afraid to go there on his own, but the hope of seeing you once again fuels the fire in his heart. He goes through the trouble of sacrificing his money and his time, replaying old scenes of you in his head and is thankful that he even made it this far, that he was even this close to calling you his. He reaches out one moment and he’s gone the next.

And the green light simply guides boats to the dock. It’s all it does anymore.

© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my work on other platforms.

[quietmyfearswith]

obssessed ; preferences

warnings — stalking, nonconsensual location/location tracking, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, knife, mentions of killing someone (no actual murder)

characters — dark!andy barber, dark!steve rogers, dark!ransom drysdale, dark!bucky barnes, dark!clark kent, dark!syverson, dark!august walker

a/n — THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH DARK THEMES,, dni if youre not 18+,, just a thought that played around in my mind so yeah. lmk what you think!

their love language | with their little | when you’re insecure | slipping into little space | fussy | happy hoelidays | cartoons

masterlist

To celebrate the case they won they held a little party at the office; though Andy wasn’t in a celebratory mood. With his hand clasped together against his lips, his eyes were watching closely his phone screen as he was awaiting a text from his beloved girlfriend who promised to be here. “Hey Andy, we’re popping the champagne already; are you joining us?” Tearing his attention away from the device, he smiled a bit as he told them, “I will once Y/N comes over.”  Tess, the assistant who invited him, chuckled a bit before leaving him alone in his office, “Staring at the phone won’t make her come over any quicker you know?” It was something they never really confronted Andy about — almost everyone at the office noticed how he had a firm grip around the girl, but no one dared to question or comment about it because they know how the skilled lawyer would come after them once they do — but silently they understood that if you spoke, let alone looked at her, badly it wouldn’t end well for everyone.

As the door shut once Tess walked away, his intense gaze returned once again to the mobile phone as he awaits a response from his girl. “Baby! I’m here now,” Snapping his head to the source of the sound, he immediately stood up and hugged Y/N as he let out a relieved sigh. “Where were you? And most importantly why didn’t you answer my text or return my calls hm?” Rolling her eyes with how her boyfriend was grilling her as if she was one of the witnesses he had on his case she apologized, “I’m sorry, baby. I got held up at the salon because my mani took longer than expected,” Her manicured nails then raised her phone to show how even as she pressed the button it wouldn’t turn on, “And my phone ran out of battery.” Wrapping an arm around her, he removed her bag and left it by the coat hanger and guided them to where the party was. “I’m gonna buy you a portable charger, baby; that way you won’t ever run out.” Innocently, she smiled and thanked him with a kiss on the lips before saying hello to his colleagues whom she got along well. That way the tracker I put on your phone will always be turned on, he deviously thought to himself as he sipped some of his champagne.

“Another long day huh?” August asked as he peeked his head around Y/N’s cubicle. It was quite odd to say the least — a field agent of his caliber not having his own office instead opting for a cubicle beside one of CIA’s lanky desk jockey? It was one of the questions she asked the infamous Hammer as he settled on the office cubicle beside hers, “Why settle for a tiny office station?” She asked to which he chuckled at as he explained, “Half the year I’m somewhere around the world; so what’s the point of having a big office if I don’t enjoy it all year round?” It was a good, solid point — one she so easily believed without a second thought — but unfortunately it was all a lie. Ever since Walker saw her once at a meeting Sloane held, he was hooked. Initially it was just her beauty and energy, but as he got to know her more he fell for who and what she was. “Yeah, I might need to stay a bit longer than usual,” She replied as she lifted the files she held, pinning the blame on the current target that needed to be researched on. “How ‘bout some coffee then?” Ears ringing with joy at his offer, she looked at him with an appreciative look as she nodded. Chuckling at her reaction, he stood up and trodden over the pantry. Installing surveillance devices on her work computer and cameras around her desk paid off since it allowed him to know everything there is to discover about her — her favorite artists, pet peeves, how she liked her coffee, home address, mobile phone number, even her social security number!

“How’d you know how I like my coffee?” She asked after taking a sip of the hot beverage; with a smile he shrugs as he pretends to get back to the work on his computer, “Well it was just a wild guess.” In her mind however, she did find her tastes to be quite basic and didn’t doubt August which was a relief to the field agent. “I think I’ll be going home now,” She announced as she shut off her computer and began to clean up her desk. “Need a ride home?” He knew she did, since he overheard her talking to a mechanic earlier that day about a defect her car suddenly had, “Yeah I do actually, but I wouldn't want to hassle you.” Quickly putting on his brown coat, he was standing up as he fished his keys out, “Nonsense! I don’t mind helping a colleague out.” Conceding, she took up his generous offer with a smile. As they were making an easy-going conversation, Y/N gave her address; but what she didn’t know is that not only did August know by heart where she lived, but he had also paid her house a visit multiple times in the past.

With an arm draped around her shoulder, Bucky and Y/N walked around the farmer’s market; the latter whined endlessly to her boyfriend how she wanted to buy some products. And though the thought of going out in the crowds wasn’t at all appealing to him, the need to make her smile made him go anyway. Leading him up to the different stalls, the former Winter Soldier couldn’t help but chuckle at how she would coo and be all excited for the different groceries, clothes, and figurines. “Slow down, doll. The market’s not going anywhere,” Bucky told her as he tailed behind her as he carried over 10 different bags filled with her purchases. It wouldn’t normally be a problem for him to look after her, but as the path became filled with people and him being preoccupied with the bags he held made him unable to keep a grip on her. With worried, drifting eyes, he was searching for his girlfriend who seemed to have blended right up with the bustling crowds, “Y/N? Doll? Where are you?” 

Setting the bags down on a vacant table, he then spotted her standing by a stall that sold her favorite food. His relieved smile was soon being replaced with a scowl as she was talking and laughing with another man. Whipping out the knife he kept on the pocket of his jeans, he was ready to torture the man. But as Y/N turned to him with a wide smile, it had him hiding the knife out of her sight, “Bucky! Look it’s Sam, my cousin!” Upon her introducing who the man was, the knife that was hidden was being kept back into its original hiding spot before he shook hands with the man, “Oh! Nice meeting you same, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend.” As they shook hands Sam had given them both a look as he sassed, “I know who you are! This one,” He referred to Y/N by pinching her side as she smacked his hand and giggled, “Won’t stop gushing about you every time we talk.” Seeing how she was clinging to his metal arm as she nuzzled her cheek to his side was all the confirmation Bucky needed; Sam then excused himself, “Well you got to swing by one of our family gatherings, yeah Bucky?” Nodding, they all exchanged farewells before the couple headed to the table where their bags still were — thankfully not stolen. “You shouldn’t have run off like that, doll. Got me real worried for a second,” He gently scolded her with a stern look. Pouting, she defended herself, “I’m sorry, Bucky! I just saw these cute little mason jars, but they were too expensive so I walked away. Then I smelt something delicious so I followed it and it turned out it was my favorite food; but Sam was there so I chatted with him instead.” Ending her enthusiastic breakdown of events with a sweet peck on the lips, he told her, “Doll you know that I would have bought you anything your sweet heart wanted. Just don’t go anywhere without me okay?”

The soft ping on his phone made Jensen pause his movements as he was selecting  a movie that you both would watch; eyebrow raising when he noticed that a certain “Steve” was texting you. Opening the text through the software he installed on both your phones allowed him to see every activity you do on your phone — but it wasn’t the only feature it had for it also allowed him to change the texts, emails, and other settings on her phone. A frown graced his handsome features as he read the text, “ Hey Y/N I can squeeze you in on Thursday, at 3pm. Are you free by then?” Displeased, he then sent a text to the guy saying how his assistance wouldn’t be needed any more. And he edited the text Steve sent her to make it seem that it was Steve that texted how he could no longer accommodate her. “Got some chips and chocolates!”

Her excited voice brought his attention from his phone screen to her excited face as she plopped herself beside him. “Thanks, babe,” Kissing her forehead, he sneakily looked over to where she was unlocking her phone and reading the text; noticing how she pouted he inquired, “What's wrong, babe?” Snuggling up to his side after sending a reply, she explained, “Steve said he can’t meet up with me anymore.” As he was rubbing her back, he faked the symphony, “Aw that’s too bad; why did you even need to meet up with Steve anyway?” She did not pick up on the faint hints of darkness on his tone, “He was my dentist! He was going to determine whether I need to have surgery for my tooth, remember?” At the revelation of who Steve really was, the  communications and technology expert felt slightly guilty but he was quick to reassure her, “Don’t worry baby I know a dentist who can help you.” Feeling her hum appreciatively against him, she planted a kiss on his cheek as they both focused on the movie; and as her eyes were trained on the screen, he whispered lowly, “You're only gonna be around people I trust, babe.”

There was a reason Sy had chosen a house that was nearly thirty minutes away from downtown — it was so their friends and families would feel lazy or discouraged to visit them due to the distance and time it took to get there. “Where on earth do you need to be today, petal?” Sy’s morning voice huskily rasped out in her ear; they both had just woken up and as Y/N was moving to stand up from the bed, she was being trapped in his muscular arms for a hug. Giggling at how he was being, she rolled around so they would be facing each other, “‘M going out with my friends today — Sophia and Rose have been bugging me about how we don’t hang out as often anymore.” At the mention of her going out and leaving him, Sy’s mood deflated and his eyes went wide; this wasn’t how he pictured this day going. “But petal, you’re gonna leave me all alone in this big house? ‘M gonna miss you so much,” The former army captain whined as she got out of his grasp and heading to wash up in their ensuite bathroom — not before bopping his nose as she reminded him, “Well you chose this house, bear. Plus, it’s only just for a while.”

Sitting up on their bed the man could only cross his arms and grumble, which was interrupted with her phone ringing. After seeing that it was her friend, Sophia, who was calling he then answered it for her, “Hey Y/N! Can’t wait to see you; we’ll pick you up in 20 minutes okay?” Taking the opportunity, Sy then decided to fabricate a lie, “Oh hey Sophia, it’s Sy,” He paused before saying the next parts in a hushed tone, “Y/N won’t be able to make it since she hurt her foot two days ago when going down the stairs. I know she was so looking forward to seeing you. Will do, bye.” With a smirk, the man set her phone back down on the nightstand, just in time since Y/N exited the bathroom, “Who was that, bear?” Making his way over to her, he hugged her as he kissed her forehead, “Sophia, calling to say she’s gonna have to cancel because she’s sick. And Rose was called in to work.” It was clear on her face that she was disappointed because she was looking forward to catching up with her friends, but her boyfriend tried to mirror her expression when in reality he was overjoyed with getting her all to himself. “Guess that leaves just the two of us, petal. Don’t worry, we’re gonna have fun today.” 

“Fucking hell,” Ransom cursed as he was speeding to go to where your tracker said you were. He had gifted you a necklace six months into the relationship, and it was costly not just because of the intricate design it has but also because he had put a tracker on it to keep tabs of your whereabouts — not that you knew about it. You both had a fight the night before, and it didn’t end well since it led to the two of you sleeping in separate rooms and Ransom drinking away his misery. So imagine his surprise when he woke up and found how you weren’t in the house and he noticed as well how a duffel bag that was in your shared walk-in closet was gone; the writer thought of the worst possibilities. And his anger went through the roof when he saw how you were at his grandfather’s house; it was one thing that you guys fought, but to involve his family in this? That was bound to be a fucking mess. As he parked the car by the driveway, he stepped out in rushed steps that were slowed down by the two dogs barking and crowding him, “Shoo, get away, mutts!” He scared them away and entered the house, “Alright where is she?” His yell echoed through the walls as Marta who was walking from the kitchen and into the foyer was startled, “Hugh, what brings you here?” 

“Where’s Y/N?” Knowing Y/N’s secret, the nurse swallowed nervously as she reluctantly told the truth, “She’s with Harlan at the gathering area.” On his way there he noticed how there were some party decorations — some colorful streamers and balloons — on the walls before he saw his girlfriend who was looking through something on her iPad, “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice caused her to gasp out loud as she looked like a deer caught off guard by headlights; standing up she walked towards him, her hands gripping onto his forearms, “We fight and you end up here to my grandfather to what? Complain and seek refuge?” Though his words stung she chose not to feed onto his anger, “Can you promise to listen out to me first?” Seeing how she was calm and not as mad as the night before, he gulped down and nodded. “When you accused me of cheating on you, it hurt because I knew that that wasn’t the truth,” She paused briefly to monitor his reactions, and she knew that he would then ask what was up with her behavior so she addressed it before being prompted to, “And the reason why I seem to be distant or busy these past few days is because I was planning on throwing a surprise party for you — for the success of your book.” At her explanation he could feel his entire body relax at the relief of him not having to kill anyone; also it made sense to him why his grandfather’s house had some ornaments hanging. Pulling her close to him, he hugged her tight as he kissed the top of her head, “Princess, I was so close to killing someone, you have no idea.” Swatting his back, she laughed at him, “I think you owe me an apology, mister. Not only did you ruin the surprise but you also accused me of cheating on you.” Smirking at her he replied, “I’ll make it up to you for the rest of our lives, princess, don’t you worry about it.” And he meant every single word of that promise; for he knew he wanted no one else but her.

The mission went well since the new agents did their jobs well — even exceeding Steve’s expectations of how they would handle the pressure and what decisions they would make in order for the mission to be a success. As the quinjet landed and they were given the clearance to exit the aircraft, the super soldier frowned when he took note how his girlfriend wasn’t anywhere near the landing pad. She always welcomes me back, he thought. The weight of his duffle bag on his arm didn’t matter to him as the feeling of worry and anxiety about his girl was way heavier. Immediately, he headed to their shared living quarters where he hoped she would be, “Kitten? I’m home,” His voice bounced off the walls as he dropped his bag on the floor and looked through every nook of the room. Now his anger and confusion was through the roof and he then decided to consult, “Friday, where’s Y/N?”

“She’s at the common area with Sam and Pietro, Captain,” As soon as AI mentioned where she was he found himself striding briskly towards her location. If she was with Bucky, it wouldn’t have alarmed him as much. But the Captain had a hunch that Sam secretly liked his girl and had plans of stealing him away from him; while Pietro was a natural flirt and joker. Even just by standing at the doorway he heard his beloved’s giggles as Sam recalled an exaggerated story. “There you are, kitten,” He let out, relieved upon seeing his girl alive in one piece. Turning her head, she smiled widely upon seeing her boyfriend and abandoned her conversation with the two Avengers to run to Steve with open arms. “Steve! I missed you so much,” She squealed as the super soldier caught her effortlessly and wrapped his thick arms tightly around her figure. “What are you doing with these troublemakers, kitten?” He wondered out loud, completely ignoring two offended looks from the said men. “I was bored of waiting for you in our room so I went here,” She was cut off from her explanations when Sam added, “That, and we missed hanging out with Y/N!” Even though Y/N giggled, Steve was trying his best to control his rage; but Pietro wanted to push him further to his limits by saying, “You hog her all the damn time we forget how great her company is!” the only girl in the room squealed as she was being carried off by Steve, “Well I don’t want you around her that’s why I hog my girl around.” Everyone around the super soldier still thought that he was joking and decided to laugh it off; Sam’s voice called out to them once more to tell a joke before they both had fully exited the room, “Yeah? Well why don’t you just lock her up in a secluded house then?” That’s exactly my plan, Sam, Steve smirked to himself quietly.

Clark needed an escape that night; for someone who has inhumane powers the stress of his job at the Daily Planet can definitely take a toll on one person — so he decided to go flying around at night, just to take his mind off things. As he was flying, he sensed trouble and decided to check out what was happening. It was a woman who was being bothered by her ex who was clearly under the influence, “Goddamn it, Alex! I told you I don’t want to talk to you!” Y/N was trying her best to push him away, but even in his drunken state he had a  tight grip on her forearms. “Just wanna talk to you, baby,” He sing-songed as he tried to push his body closer to hers. “I think she made it clear that she doesn’t want to,” A booming voice spoke up, causing Y/N to gasp out loud when she saw Superman himself; Alex however grunted at the searing pain on his shoulder caused by the mysterious man, the pain weakening his hold on the girl to the point where he tore his hands away from Y/N to push away the weight on his shoulder. In his drunken state, he failed to piece together how it was the infamous hero in front of him — instead all he saw was a tall, muscular man and decided he didn’t want to have his face beaten up so he just walked away with his arms up in surrender. “Are you alright, miss?” Clark gently asked the woman who felt relieved she was no longer being bothered by her ass of an ex. “I am, thank you.” She nodded and before she could ask how’d she find him he offered, “Would you need help getting home? Just to make sure he won’t follow you again.” He was quick to clarify, in hopes she won’t find him creepy. “I know you have good intentions, but it’s fine. I don’t think he has the balls, let alone the energy, to bother me. At least for tonight.” With that she waved at the hero goodnight before getting into her car and driving into her apartment — but she didn’t know how up in the sky above, a certain pair of blue eyes followed her journey home.

“Hi! You must be the one who moved next door?” Y/N politely greeted the man as she was leaned by her front door. Clark smiled as he adjusted his glasses — suddenly feeling nervous upon seeing her beautiful face once more, “That is me! Though the one who moved next door is quite a mouthful; you can just call me Clark.” As she laughed at his lame joke she told her name, “And feel free to knock if you need anything, okay?” Taking his nod of agreement as a cue that their conversation ended, she entered her apartment. The son of Jor-El II went inside his own apartment that was directly next to hers  — he did so because days and nights of following her didn’t satiate his hunger for her, so he decided that perhaps this would be a clean way of easing her into a relationship — and busied himself with organizing his belongings in his apartment. Hearing Y/N’s increased heart rate and her voice raised, he opened his door to check out what was going on; and the sight of her ex bothering her once again. “Come on, Y/N! You need to take me back!” Displeased with how the imbecile failed to grasp that Alex should not reach out to his girl anymore. Letting his rage get the best of him, he walked over and pushed Alex off hard enough he landed on his bum, “When a woman says she doesn’t want to see or talk to you, then you better comply with her request.” Gulping down, he recognized the strength as the same one who grabbed onto his shoulder — and now as he was sober Alex decided to respect her wishes and hastily stood up to leave the apartment building. “Are you alright?” Seeing how Clark stood up for her, it made her reminisce about how she was reduced two weeks ago by Superman, “I’m fine, Clark,” She nodded as she grounded herself back to reality and stared into his concerned, blue eyes, “Thank you, by the way.” As he smiled at her she offered him for some snacks in her flat, which he gracefully accepted. “You know, you’re the second person who helped me get rid of Alex,” She mentioned as she handed him a snack; feigning innocence he tilted his head up as he inquired, “Oh? Who’s the other one?” Taking a small bite of the snack, she wiped her mouth free from the crumbs before  replying, “You probably won’t believe it, but it was Superman,” She laughed along with her new neighbor who didn’t find it unbelievable and instead played along as he spoke, “Who’s to say I’m not your personal superhero, beautiful?”

[sankyeom]

splash! | l.jy

pairings: lee juyeon x reader genre: lifeguard!juyeon, summer love, strangers to lovers summary: in which you fall in love with the lifeguard at the hotel pool during your summer vacation and don’t want to have to say goodbye word count: 5.1k warnings: i said bullshit like once i think requested: nope, this is the result of me having a daydream about lifeguard juyeon and missing my home in santa cruz a lot bc i’m overseas right now note: i should have called this water after the boyz’ song, but i already made the banner say splash and i was too lazy to change it. also i was picturing ddd era juyeon for this fic so keep that in mind if you want 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

The salty air blowing in the breeze wasn’t a familiar scent, but you welcomed it as you draped yourself across the beach lounge chair by the hotel pool. You couldn’t have been more thankful for your best friend who surprised you with a beach-side vacation for the summer. Your third year of University had been difficult to say the least, and after your friend had seen you buried in books and notes, they decided enough was enough.

“Didn’t I say this was a good idea?” your best friend asked, shielding their face with a broad-brimmed sun hat. The two of you had opted to lounge by the pool for the day instead of hitting the beach, mostly because your friend wasn’t particularly fond of the ocean.

“Yes,” you hummed in agreement. “Didn’t I already acknowledge that you’re a genius?” you retorted, turning on your side to face your best friend. They made a vaguely dismissive motion with their hand, eliciting a laugh from you as you decided what book to read while you soaked up some sun.

A shout interrupted your thoughts. “Hey!” the call came from the lifeguard up on the tall wooden chair that designated his position. Your eyes followed the sound, intrigued by the sudden call. The man in question was tall, slender, and broad-shouldered, with light brown hair and honey blond highlights. He was speaking into a megaphone and seemed to be targeting a group of teenage boys. “They’re not interested. Stop bothering them and go along with your day,” you noticed the group of boys in question seemed to be lingering near some teenage girls. They scowled at the lifeguard, faces clearly displaying their embarrassment at being called out. It seemed as though they wanted to reply, perhaps say something snooty about them being guests there, but the lifeguard wouldn’t have it. “Don’t make me go down there. I will go down there,” he warned.

You cracked a smile as the group of boys mumbled to one another before stalking off with glares on their faces. “Well that was nice of him,” your friend had peeked out from under their sunhat long enough to witness the encounter. “He’s pretty cute,” they observed.

Pretty cute was an understatement.

As far as bodies went, his was clearly well maintained and rather impressive, but his face was what had caught your attention initially. He had clear, sharp eyes and a small, slender nose. His dyed hair made him appear to almost glow in the summer sun, skin tanned from being outside all day long. When you glanced down to observe his face, you realised you had been glancing at the stranger’s lips for far longer than socially acceptable and decided to just look away.

“I saw that,” your friend pointed out. “You think he’s more than just pretty cute, huh?” they teased you, wiggling their eyebrows as best as they could to further taunt you.

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” you lied, risking another look back at the lifeguard.

You hadn’t realised it, but the fairly close proximity to the lifeguard’s chair gave Juyeon both a clear view of you and your friend as well as the ability to hear your chatter. Having noticed you earlier as well, Juyeon could feel his ears burning with embarrassment as the two of you locked eyes. When you and your friend arrived, you had caught his attention because the two of you looked like you were very close and having a lot of fun. His summer job thus far had been anything but fun, and the way you looked when you laughed was simply radiant.

Noticing the tension in the area, your friend beamed. “Do you need me to work my magic?” they wondered, taking their hat off and giving you their full attention.

“You don’t have any magic,” you hissed back, breaking eye contact with the cute lifeguard to hush your friend. “And don’t be so loud, he’s not that far away,” you added in a whisper.

“Oh honey,” your friend sighed. “You need all the help you can get. Leave this to me,” they winked, taking off their cover up as you began to protest.

“No, stop that,” you whisper-yelled. “What are you doing, why are you-“ you cut yourself off as your friend not-so-elegantly dove into the pool. You exhaled loudly, looking up at the sky and hoping to any god that existed that your friend wasn’t going to embarrass you.

When your friend started swimming and going nowhere near the lifeguard, you decided you could calm down and not worry about their actions anymore. That was until your friend started shouting and flailing about in the pool, calling out for the lifeguard to help them as they struggled in the water. You furrowed your brows together. They were a perfect swimmer, there was no way they could really be drowning in a pool shallow enough for them to stand.

Without waiting, the lifeguard gracefully dove into the pool and paddled towards your best friend. “I’ve got you, you’re okay,” he told your friend, pulling them towards the edge of the pool. Still, your friend made a big show out of panicking and clinging onto him as he lifted them out of the water.

“Please,” you friend said between exaggerated coughs. “Get my friend,” they pleaded.

You groaned. This had been their plan all along.

With quick steps, you made your way towards the pair. “Are you okay?” you asked your friend, narrowing your eyes at them in warning. Translation: you’re so dead when we’re alone.

Their eyes widened as they nodded. “I had a leg cramp,” they explained innocently, stretching out their right leg and wincing. “Oh look, all better!” with that they jumped up happily and walked back to your lounge chairs.

Your jaw dropped in surprise at their actions as they left you and the lifeguard to kneel on the floor alone. His eyes drifted back to meet yours and he coughed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck with flushed cheeks. The way your eyes peered curiously at him made him want to squeal like an excited child, but Juyeon managed to restrain himself. “Um, I hope they’re okay,” he said awkwardly instead.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” you assured him, feeling your face warm up. “Um, I’m really sorry about them,” you tried to apologise for your friend’s obvious, and terrible, acting.

The handsome lifeguard blinked innocently at you. “Oh, it’s fine. Leg cramps are really common and I wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt under my watch,” then he smiled in a way that made your insides melt, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

He was the definition of breathtaking, and he seemed innocent and sweet enough to believe that your friend had really been in peril, which made him all the more cute. “I’m Juyeon,” he introduced himself, going to hold out his hand for you to shake before realising it was wet, and lowering it.

“I’m Y/n,” you replied, a laugh naturally escaping you without even trying. He was too sweet.

By the time you made your way back to your friend, they were already grinning at you with a knowing look on their face. “And you said I don’t have any magic,” they scoffed. “I wrote the book on magic, okay?”

“That was embarrassing as hell,” you said instead of agreeing with them. “Never do that again.”

Your friend ignored you. “What’s his name?” they asked.

You paused, getting comfortable on the lounge chair before facing them. “Juyeon,” you answered, and that was just as good as admitting their absurd plan had worked for your friend.

The bonfire was almost twice your own height by the time you arrived at the beach. Your friend had caught wind of the midnight bonfire from one of the waiters at the breakfast bar that morning, and had begged you to go almost all day long. After not seeing Juyeon at the pool all day, you were in the mood to get out of your head and eventually agreed to go.

You felt stupid looking for the lifeguard after only meeting him once, but there was something about him that made you want to get to know him better. Good looks aside, he was sweet and innocent and he had made your vacation a little more interesting by being your summer crush.

The night was slightly chilly, making you relieved that you had thought ahead and worn a cardigan so that you wouldn’t be cold. “Let’s get closer,” your friend suggested before dragging you to stand right by the fire pit. “Oh! It’s you,” their cheeky tone warned you of the fact that they had bumped into Juyeon before you even saw him. He looked comfortable in a short sleeve button up and jeans, and the fire illuminated his honey skin to make him appear as though he was truly glowing. “You saved my life,” your friend told him.

He laughed a low chuckle. “Ah, it’s just my job,” he waved it off with a small shrug. Then, his eyes met yours. “It’s good to see you again, Y/n,” Juyeon greeted.

The fact that he remembered your name shouldn’t have been such a big deal, but it definitely felt like a sign to you. You smiled. “You too,” you assured him. “What brings you here?”

“My friends Kevin and Jacob organised the bonfire,” Juyeon explained, pointing them out nearby. “I figured I might as well do something other than work all summer long,” he added with a bashful smile.

“Great idea,” your friend chimed. “I’m going to get some drinks, Y/n?” they offered but you waved them off, uninterested. Music started playing softly through a bluetooth speaker, and for a moment you were nervous that Juyeon would ask you to dance. You weren’t so confident in your ability to remember to breathe around him, nonetheless actually dance in an appealing way.

Almost as if he sensed your nerves, Juyeon held out his hand to you. “Want to see something cool?” he offered, titling his head slightly at you. Shrugging, you took his hand and let him lead you away from the bonfire and to a darker part of the beach.

“This is super suspicious, just so you know,” you informed him in a teasing tone. You weren’t actually nervous to be alone with Juyeon, there was something soothing about his presence that made you feel at ease.

Juyeon laughed. “Don’t you trust me?” he teased you right back.

“Well,” you hummed. “All I know about you is that you’re a lifeguard, your name is Juyeon, and that your friends are all back at the bonfire along with mine.”

“All the more reason to follow me,” he grinned, coming to a stop further down the beach. “Now,” Juyeon said, gently taking you by the shoulders to stand in front of him. “Look at this,” he pointed up, and you followed his finger until you saw a small cluster of golden lights leisurely twirling through the air.

Realisation struck you and you gasped audibly. “Oh my god,” you exclaimed. “Are those fireflies?”

Said fireflies were floating about the sky, some above you and some lower at the water, exploring their surroundings. “You ever seen those before?” you shook your head at Juyeon’s question. “They usually like to be in marshy, forest areas. But the other night I saw them close to here, exploring the shore.”

“This is incredible,” you admitted, eyes following the small glowing insects as they soar. “What makes them glow?” you asked, feeling Juyeon’s chest against your back as he inched closer.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s the same reason you and I are here right now,” you turn your head to look at Juyeon, curious. He was already smiling, as if he knew something that you didn’t. “Chemistry,” he whispered, making you laugh.

“That was cheesy.”

“Maybe so, but it’s true, isn’t it?”

You nod. “I suppose so,” you manage to agree.

Juyeon smiles. “Do you think I could kiss you?”

“I definitely think you should.”

When he kissed you, your eyes closed and you saw little dots of gold on the inside of your eyelids, perfectly mimicking the glow of the fireflies surrounding the both of you.

After your kiss with Juyeon, he seemed to be appearing everywhere you looked. At the pool when he was on duty, at the bar you and your friend were snacking at during his breaks, the beach during the sunset, and the dining hall for dinner. Your friend was pleased that you were finding something – or rather, someone – to entertain and soothe you after the difficult year you had at University.

Before you exited the pool for the day, Juyeon leaned down to whisper in your ear: “Meet me at the gate at midnight,” without any further explanation. Excited to spend more time with him, you easily nodded in agreement and left to tell your friend about your evening plans.

When the time came, you made your way down to the pool’s gate to meet Juyeon, finding it locked since the pool closed before sundown. As Juyeon approached you in a pair of board shorts and a t-shirt, waving a key in the air with an excited glint in his eyes, you quickly figured out what his plans for your night were. “Are you up for a midnight swim?” Juyeon wondered, greeting you with a hug. The small act of affection made an unavoidable and automatic smile appear on your lips.

“I’m up for anything,” you replied, winding your arms around his waist and leaning back enough to smile at Juyeon. “As long as you don’t get into trouble for it?” you added, eyeing the thick metal lock on the pool gates.

“I won’t get in trouble if we don’t get caught,” he retorted with a small wink, lifting his hand to gently stroke your cheek with his thumb. This was something you liked a lot about being with Juyeon: everything always felt easy and relaxed. “I’ve never gone for a midnight dip before, and I figure a lit-up pool is safer than the ocean.”

“Ah yes,” you laughed. “Safety first. How could I forget that I’m amidst Lee Juyeon, lifeguard extraordinaire.”

Juyeon burst out laughing at your words, eyes crinkling with his widened grin. He gave a shy smile when he was done, opening the gate to the pool for you and allowing you to enter first. Slightly excited at the idea of sneaking around with Juyeon, you made your way towards the pool, closely followed by Juyeon.

As you and Juyeon started undressing down to your bathing suits, you eyed the empty lifeguard chair that he usually occupied. “You’re pretty distracting up there on your little chair, you know?” you admitted, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Me?” Juyeon exclaimed, pausing while attempting to take off his t-shirt. “I’m the one that has to work and pretend that I’m not sneaking glances at you every minute because you’re so captivating,” he argued, shaking his head in disbelief.

You snuck a quick look at his torso, half exposed from where he was paused. “You’re clueless,” you accused with a sigh, not understanding how Juyeon couldn’t understand how attractive he was. “Now hurry up, I want to swim,” you added with a slight whine.

At your encouragement, the two of you had soon made your way into the lukewarm water of the pool, gently splashing each other in a playful manner. Rather than swimming laps or diving in the water, you and Juyeon decided to stand in the water next to each other and see how the water trickled from your hands to his, underneath yours.

Although the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, you still wished to know more about the boy in front of you. “What’s your biggest fear?” you wondered, watching how little droplets of water sliding down the side of your palm fell into Juyeon’s larger palm.

Each time your fingertips brushed against his palm, tingles shot from the very tips of your fingers down to your toes. Warmth spread throughout your body. You always felt warm when you were with Juyeon.

Juyeon made a quiet sound akin to a chuckle, but thought about his answer. “Heartbreak,” he told you. You paused playing with the water to observe his expression. Usually, his eyes smiled whenever you looked at him. Now, his eyes seemed to be lost in something else.

“Funny,” you said. “That’s mine, too.”

The realisation that whatever the two of you were doing – be it dating casually or just having an exciting summer fling – might end in both of your biggest fear put a temporary stop to the careless relaxation you had been experiencing up until that point.

“I guess we just won’t break each other’s hearts,” Juyeon said it so simply that you believed him. 

Believed that you could have nothing but a small, summer fling with Juyeon. That maybe you wouldn’t fall for the kind-eyed man in front of you, and that your summer wouldn’t end in heartbreak.

So you smiled back at him and agreed.

Silently, you and Juyeon agreed to keep things fun and casual that summer. You had in depth conversations about your hopes and dreams for your futures; the lives you intended to live after your education was over. However, you never told one another things about your everyday lives that could make you get attached to one another. You didn’t speak about where you lived, your daily schedule, or what you looked for in a partner.

Lying beside Juyeon, your thighs brushing his and hands intertwined on his chest, felt comfortable; familiar. The night was still fairly warm out despite it being well past midnight, and the two of you had decided to lie down by the beach and admire the night sky.

The stars were so bright that evening, glowing and shimmering as if they had come out just so you could admire them. The glow they released felt like little fireflies hung up in the sky, as though you could reach out and touch them.

“I don’t know,” you answered Juyeon’s question about what you wanted to do as a career. Your tone caused Juyeon to turn his head to face you. His hair was still damp, and it fell flat against his forehead in a short fringe. You angled your body to face his, raising your hand to run your fingers through his hair. The intimate action didn’t seem to bother Juyeon, and you tried to ignore the way it made your stomach swirl. “I’m always scared to think about it. I just finished my third year of Uni, and I still have no idea what I want to do.”

“You have all the options in the world open to you,” Juyeon rephrased your troubles lightly. “All you have to do is reach out and take them.” he paused, closing his eyes to relish in the feeling of your hands in his hair. “I know what I want to do.”

“Yeah?” you asked, tightening Juyeon’s zip-up hoodie around your frame as the breeze blew stronger; the sound of waves crashing against the shore music to your ears. “What’s that?”

“I want to be a dancer,” Juyeon said. “I want to perform for others and tell a story. I want to sweat and bleed and hurt for it. Because I want to be perfect,” he chuckled. “I guess that’s my fatal flaw. Perfectionism.”

“Perfectionism is hardly fatal,” you disagreed. “Then go out there. Hurt and bleed and do it.”

“I wish it were that easy,” Juyeon muttered, pulling you gently against him. The moderate rhythm of his heart beat tenderly against your ear. “I just don’t know how to tell my parents. They still think I’m majoring in Economics. Guess I have one more year to tell them,” somehow, his statement managed to make the both of you laugh.

You mentally noted that you were in the same year of University, something personal that the both of you had agreed not to talk about. It would be foolish to get your hopes up about Juyeon wanting something serious with you; you forced yourself to let go of the idea altogether.

After all, you were scared of heartbreak too.

“Why is it so easy to talk to you?” Juyeon marvelled. “When I’m with my friends, I always feel like I never have a clue about anything. They’re always faster, wittier, and smarter than me. But with you, I feel like I can take my time.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you pondered on how to respond. Not only had Juyeon captured exactly how you felt around him, but he had made a statement so personal that you couldn’t ignore it.

“You can take your time,” you decided to say. “We have all summer long.”

As the summer was coming to an end, you were already dreading having to say goodbye to Juyeon. He introduced you to his friends throughout the summer, too. Jacob and Kevin from the bonfire, and Hyunjae the bartender from the hotel bar. You understood what Juyeon meant about feeling slow; his friends were balls of energy and quick-wit. You had spent every night with him, walking the beach, exploring the island, and forgetting any of your troubles. The next day, you would always bring your friend to the places you had adventured through the night before; recounting your escapades with Juyeon and admiring how different things looked in the light.

“You really like this guy,” your friend realised immediately. “And not just in a hot lifeguard way.”

You smiled sadly. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I don’t want to say goodbye to him.” The view of the beach during the day with the sun shining wasn’t the same as the way the beach appeared at night. You almost wanted it to be dark every time you went to the ocean.

Your friend smiled. “Maybe you don’t have to? Long distance relationships can work out, too.”

“He doesn’t want to be in a relationship,” you denied.

With a small shake of their head, your friend asked “How do you know that?”

“Because he’s afraid of heartbreak,” you looked out into the sea, observing the families and couples playing in the water together and laughing.

“I’ve heard that before,” your friend recalled all the times you used that as an excuse during the semester. “You know, I love heartbreak.” With wide eyes, you faced your friend to listen to their reasoning. “If I get heartbroken, at least it means I felt something.”

“Well, yes,” you allowed. “But why would you want to put yourself and your feelings out in the world, only to have them broken and exploited?”

“Who cares?” your friend said. “Who cares if my feelings get broken and exploited? How am I ever going to feel anything – love, happiness, admiration – if I’m so scared of being hurt that I never let myself feel it to begin with?”

You knew your friend was right. The more you got to know Juyeon, the more you knew that no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to prevent yourself from feeling an emotion you truly felt.

“I know that,” you confessed in a mumble. “That doesn’t mean that he feels the same.”

“Maybe you should try asking him?” your friend proposed. “Maybe he’ll surprise you. And maybe you should do it today, before we have to leave this afternoon,” they added, patting you gently on the shoulder and giving you their best encouraging smile.

You had already told Juyeon that you were leaving that day. He had mentioned that he had a shift at the pool in the early afternoon, but he promised that he would get away and say his goodbyes to you.

Perhaps you were holding on to his promise a little too tightly. That was why you felt so destroyed when Juyeon never showed, and you had to get the taxi on the way to the airport so you wouldn’t miss your flight.

“Are you okay?” your friend asked, sympathetic to your feelings.

“I’m okay,” you said. “Maybe I shouldn’t be so scared of being heartbroken. It seems like I have no control over that, anyway.”

When autumn came, you welcomed the cold.

The cold meant that you no longer had to think about Juyeon. Autumn in Seoul meant the leaves falling in magnificent shades of burnt orange and yellow, and it also meant going back to University for your final year of your degree. When school started again, you were thankful for the distraction. The more specialised and specific your classes became, the better idea you got of what you wanted to do with your degree in the future.

Coming out of a counselling session with your career counsellor, you felt confident with the options the two of you had come up with for careers to look in to. “I’ll be at the café soon,” you told your friend over the phone, almost rolling your eyes at their excitement over it being Friday. “Yes I promise. No more than ten minutes. Yes, I swear.”

As you hung up the phone, you hardly noticed someone in a black coat walking by you. “I’m so sorry!” the man exclaimed, picking up your dropped phone and handing it over to you. “I hope nothing happened to it,” he said.

You examined your phone, discovering that the screen wasn’t cracked and seemed to be functioning just find. “Don’t even worry about it,” you assured the man, glancing up at his bespectacled face. You paused. “I’m sorry, are you Jacob?” you asked him, vaguely recognising his face.

The man chuckled. “Kevin, actually,” he corrected. “It’s Y/n, right?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m not so great with names. Not that I was really trying to remember this summer, anyway,” you added awkwardly.

Kevin hummed. “Do you go to school here?”

“I do,” you nodded.

“Me too,” Kevin smiled.

Your eyes widened. “You go to school with Juyeon, though,” you recalled. “That means…”

“He goes here too,” Kevin finished for you. He studied your expression. “You should really talk to him. I think that a few things got mixed up between you guys and I’d hate for you to keep thinking poorly of my friend.”

Talking to Juyeon again just when you were getting over thinking of him didn’t seem like the wisest idea to you. And yet, “Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll meet him.”

It seemed almost too ironic that Juyeon was waiting for Kevin in the same café your friend was waiting in. When you saw the two sitting together, you realised why your friend was so desperate to get you to the café quickly. Sneaky.

“Hey,” you greeted Juyeon, taking a seat opposite him as your friend and Kevin gave you some privacy.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t meet you,” Juyeon apologised. “I know this sounds ridiculous but I got fired for breaking into the pool at night.”

You hadn’t been expecting that. “What?”

“The manager saw that someone had been breaking into the pool after hours. It seemed that he hadn’t gotten the keys on the nights where I locked up, so he pretty quickly figured out who it was,” Juyeon was sheepish to admit. “They escorted me out of the hotel so I couldn’t stay to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you call?” you wondered.

Juyeon smirked. “It’s not like we exchanged numbers,” he argued.

“That stupid not falling in love and not getting heartbroken bullshit,” you sighed.

Juyeon rose an eyebrow. “You think it’s bullshit too?” he asked. “Glad to hear it. I was getting pretty sick of it by the end of the summer too.”

“Tell me about it,” you grinned. “So, we go to the same University,” you stated the obvious.

“Looks like it,” Juyeon grinned back at you. “I don’t know. It almost seems like it’s fate or something.”

You snorted. “Fate? Three months ago you refused to fall in love, and now you believe in fate?”

“People change,” Juyeon defended himself. “Especially when they meet someone worth changing for.”

You rose an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh really?”

Juyeon leaned forward. “Go on a date with me,” he requested. You merely smiled disbelievingly at him. “Seriously,” Juyeon insisted, eyes slightly narrowed with focus. “I’ve had three months to get to know you and I’ve been missing you for two more. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Your stomach fluttered with butterflies. You didn’t have to think about your answer for even one second. You were already head over heels for him. “And if we get heartbroken?” you asked quietly.

Juyeon cocked his head to the side, his familiar eye-smile appearing as he realised you felt the same as him. “Then at least I know that I loved you.”

note: this took me so long to write i’ve been working on it for a whole month. i hope you enjoyed it!!

updated note: guys i wrote this fic a year before thrill ride came out i basically predicted the future lmaooo

[startanewdream]

Hyacinth

Summary: Sirius takes some time to fill his godfather duties — teaching Harry how to ride a motorbike.

Part of Eyes Glistening (Jily Lives AU). It ties with Hope, but you don't need to read it first to enjoy this moment between Harry and Sirius.

Read on AO3 or below the cut:

~*~*~*~*~*~*

The street is quiet, a summer afternoon in which everyone must have decided it’s too hot to stay outside, but Sirius doesn’t breathe easily until he opens the small gate and then he is finally inside the Potter’s estate, safe under their love protection, though its days are almost over. He tries not to let this thought dismay him.

He walks towards the house, but he pauses, his attention diverted. Despite the heat, Harry is standing still near the broom shed, watching the sky thoughtfully, his hands inside the pocket of his jeans.

Alone and brooding, never a good sign.

He sighs, moving direction towards his godson. He has seen that quiet stubborn resolution on Harry’s face ever since he met him after Dumbledore’s funeral; it was a soldier’s face, a soldier with a duty that was hinted by Harry’s secret meetings with Dumbledore—the most secretive man Sirius had ever known—, and from all Sirius knows about Harry and James, that didn’t bid well.

He had a feeling Harry would leave. He was sure that James would hate it.

Sirius walks quietly, stopping a few steps behind Harry.

‘So, how it went?’

Harry jumps under the sound of his voice, turning around. Sirius holds back a frown; Harry shouldn’t be caught so off guard—he may be safe at the moment, but soon, in the real world, he will need better reactions and not trust anyone. This thought doesn’t comfort him.

‘What?’

‘You finally told James, didn’t you?’

Harry squints, uncomfortable. ‘Dad said anything you?’

‘No, I just needed to come by—I still have a few repairs to do in my motorbike.’

‘Oh.’ Harry’s gaze strays to the broom shed. ‘Don’t mind me.’

Sirius watches him for a few seconds before nodding. It’s still hot and he had planned to do this later, but he has a feeling that now it might be the best time—and he knows that pushing Harry to talk before he is ready never works. So he goes to take his motorbike, opting to work in the open instead of the broom shed. Harry hasn’t moved when he comes back, as Sirius imagined he wouldn’t, so Sirius just kneels to check the engine, careful to let the toolbox closer to Harry.

‘Pass me a screwdriver, will you?’ he asks Harry, not taking his gaze off the engine.

It’s been a while since he rode his motorbike, Sirius notes shamefully, so he needs to check if all the electrical parts of the motor are okay. It’s a tiresome job that he could ask a real mechanic to do, but he enjoys the manual work anyway, and Harry seems to relax some of his tension as he watches Sirius working, helping him whenever Sirius asks him—things that Sirius could do alone, but he understands that Harry likes to feel helpful.

‘I am leaving,’ Harry says quietly at some point, and Sirius takes care to not let any emotion show in his face.

‘I thought so,’ he says. All those meetings with Dumbledore seemed too much as some sort of passing the torch, though Sirius doubts that Dumbledore had planned for things to go sour so quickly. ‘When?’

‘As soon as I am of age.’

‘Oh. Okay.’

Harry is watching him, and Sirius knows he is just looking for some sort of disapproval—though he doesn’t know what Harry would do if he found it. That boy is Lily’s son too much not to be stubborn and he would go anyway. Well, Harry does like to suffer.

‘Dad is mad at me. I think… I think I’m letting him down somehow.’

And there is it, the reason why Harry was staring sadly at the sky, brooding under the sun as if it could atone for his sins somehow. He sees the apprehension in his godson’s green eyes, and Sirius is suddenly aware—though he shouldn’t be surprised—how apart from his eyes, Harry looks a lot like James.

‘You never disappoint James,’ Sirius tells him reasonably. ‘He is just too worried. You know him.’

‘I feel like… like if I leave him, he won’t ever understand. He’ll hate me for doing it.’

‘Hating you for doing the right thing? That can’t be.’

‘You didn’t see him. He said… he said if I cared, I wouldn’t leave anyone.’

‘Do you?’ Sirius asks softly. ‘Do you care?’

Harry looks at his house with a heavy sigh. ‘Too much.’

‘Then he will understand. You’ll be of age, Harry, and you’ve been making decisions—good even if questionable some times—for some time now.’

‘I just want… I want it over.’

‘That’s all we want.’ Sirius pauses for a moment. ‘Are you sure you’re the only one who can do this?’

Harry doesn’t hesitate this time. ‘It has to be me. But I won’t be alone.’

‘Ron and Hermione?’ Sirius guesses, smiling a little when Harry nods. He is a firm believer that with friends by his side, Harry can do anything. ‘Ginny?’

Harry sighs. ‘No, we—I broke up with her.’

‘What?’ Sirius asks, confused, but the desolation in Harry’s face is enough to show him all he needs to do about this news. ‘For her own good?’

Harry kicks a stone in the ground, his head lowered. ‘I couldn’t put her in danger and… being near me is a hazard. It’s enough I’m already putting you and Mum and Dad in so much trouble—’

‘You know we would still be even if you didn’t exist, right? In fact, we joined the Order about two years before you were even born, kid.’

Harry shrugs, clearly not agreeing with him. Sirius rolls his eyes; Harry enjoys saving people too much not to feel guilty for anything that happens, even when is only remotely connected to it.

‘If you wanna blame someone, blame Voldemort, not you,’ Sirius says, and he stands up to finish a few protective spells on the motorbike.

As he casts them, blue light shining from his wand, it occurs to Sirius that Harry will need a quick course on Defensive Spells. He already knows quite a few, always having a knack for them, and Sirius is familiar with how much Harry loves his Expelliarmus—he supposes that a wandless enemy doesn’t provide much danger—, but Harry will need to improve his list if he is to be safe during whatever he will be doing.

He thinks of a few books he has at home that helped him in his early years of the Auror training, and he is sure that he can ask Moony to come and help them with training.

Away from James’ eyes, that’s it. Sirius enjoys not being hexed by his best friend.

But Harry’s birthday is still a few weeks away and, right now, Sirius doesn’t want to give Harry homework.

‘Why are you fixing your motorbike?’ Harry asks.

‘I got the feeling it might be useful. The Order has been discussing how to get you safely away from here, you know.’ Harry frowns heavily, so Sirius rushes to add in a teasing voice: ‘I thought of suggesting to hide you inside the trunk and be done with it. Death Eaters would never guess.’

Harry laughs. ‘I don’t think I’d fit.’

‘No, we’d need to transform you into something. Too bad you never felt an attraction to turn into an animagus, if you were a hedgehog it would be easier.’

‘Why a hedgehog?’

‘They are cute. And your hair does make you look like one.’

‘Hey!’ Harry’s indignation is cut by the grin on his lips. He runs his hand through his hair in a gesture that reminds Sirius of James more than ever. ‘It’s my charm.’

‘Oh, I’d have my doubts, but then Lily did marry and procreate with your father, so what do I know?’ Sirius tosses a helmet to Harry. ‘Here, put it on.’

‘To hide my hair?’

‘No, silly, because you need a helmet to ride.’

��Ride?’

There is a bewildered expression on Harry’s face. Sirius smiles, more certain than ever of his idea. ‘Yeah, I've never taught you how to ride a motorbike, have I? Lousy godfather I am.’

‘You’re not,’ Harry says at once, distracted. He puts on the helmet. ‘Why didn’t you ever teach me before?’

‘Lily deemed too unsafe—a little hypocrite if you ask me, brooms are much more dangerous’

Harry doesn’t look as if he agrees on that one—that boy was way too influenced by James about brooms—but he seems excited enough.

‘Now what?’

‘Now pay attention. If you fall, your mother is gonna kill me.’

Harry looks amused with Sirius' concern.

Sirius shows him how to operate the motorbike, telling him to be careful with the brake and the acceleration and to not mix the gear shifter with them. Then he helps Harry get on the bike.

‘By the left side,’ he guides, and Harry looks somehow younger as he sits on the motorbike. Sirius had a sudden vision of himself holding a Harry who wasn’t even two yet as they flew through the night.

Merlin, the time has flown. Near seventeen already and ready to kick Voldemort's arse.

‘Keep your feet on the ground to get used to. Good?’ Harry nods. ‘Okay, now try to feel the clutch.’ After several minutes, in which Sirius makes Harry repeat over and over how every part works, he picks his key. ‘I’ll start the engine now, okay?’

Harry acquiesces; his eyes are shining, overjoyed. Sirius makes sure the bike is into neutral, then indicates the “start” button for Harry.

‘Slowly let the clutch out—keep your feet on the ground, it will give you more support.’

Harry nods once more, concentrated, his attention focused on releasing the clutch—and then his grip slips and the motorbike yanks forward too quickly. Sirius jumps to hold them.

‘Hey, hey, it happens!’ he says. Harry looks only sheepishly, not very much concerned for his health. Of course not, Sirius thinks. The boy is ready to face Voldemort, what’s a bike? ‘You stalled the engine because you let it go too fast. Try again.’

He does; this time his hand leaves the clutch in the right timing, and the motorbike wrenches him forward. Harry lets out a laugh—one of those carefree sounds that Sirius has been hearing less and less lately—at the same time as Sirius turns into a dog to chase him.

The Potter estate is vast, an enormous field that goes into the woods, and it takes several minutes until Harry finally steps on the brake, having made a huge round back to the broom shed. Sirius is glad and relieved to realize Harry remembered to use the brake over the throttle.

Sirius is out of breath—age comes with problems, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud—when he helps Harry down the kickstand so he can get off the bike. Harry immediately crashes into the ground, laying over the grass with a relaxed expression as he takes out his helmet.

‘This was so much fun!’ he admits. ‘Can I fly next time?’

‘One step at a time, kid. When you are good on the ground, we’ll try for the skies.’

‘Spoilsport,’ Harry complains without any real malice in his voice. ‘Thanks, Sirius.’

‘No problem, kid.’ Sirius sits next to him. ‘Just wanted to share Hyacinth with you.’

He lifts his eyebrows. ‘Hyacinth? Your bike has a name?’

‘All the good rides should have one. Don’t mock Hyacinth.’

Harry shakes his head, amusement all over his face as he closes his eyes. He puts his arms around his head for support, so Sirius does his godfather duty once more. He turns into Padfoot, laying next to Harry to offer him a good fluffy pillow.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 9

Masterlist

As always thank you to my beautiful bestie @acollectionofficsandshit you can also thank her for all the Max content in this chapter. Its a long one, enjoy!

Word Count: 9.6k

Recommended song: “Hate the way” by G-Easy and blackbear

The one thing that never failed to lift your spirits was your dad's homemade blueberry chocolate chip pancakes. Whenever you were upset as a kid, whether it be your team losing a sporting event, your high-school boyfriend dumping you for the head cheerleader, or getting rejected from an ivy league college you never expected to get into in the first place, his pancakes had been there to cushion the fall. Clever as he was, he always messed them up in some insignificant way like leaving off the whipped cream and hiding the container so you were forced to talk to him in order to remedy it. Then he would crack some stupid joke or cheesy pun that would just barely have the ghost of a smile curling your lips.

Blueberry chocolate chip pancakes were no match for the heartbreak of losing your best friend.

The morning after, you only trudge to the kitchen when your stomach's demands to be fed become too loud to ignore. A steaming pile of fluffy pancakes sits at your usual spot, no syrup in sight. You don't have the energy to find your dad and ask where he's hidden it, instead picking at them. You knew the flavor should be fruity and sweet but every bite tastes like ash. One pancake is all you can manage before nausea roils, threatening to make your meager brunch resurface. 

"Some is better than none," Ben murmurs behind you and you drop your chin in the barest of nods. "We can save the rest and you can warm them up later."

"Thanks," you mumble when he takes your plate. You pull your blanket tight around your shoulders as your gaze turns to the window while your brother washes your dishes, wishing for all the world that you could make your uncooperative limbs move and help him but the mental effort it requires is too taxing. Instead you stay curled up on the chair, the noises of the house waking up around you a dull buzz in your ears. At some point your mother kisses your head and hustles out the door to work, her husband close behind. Ben is the last to leave and is reluctant to do so.

"Promise you'll text me if you need me," he says. "Mom already gave me permission to cut class after trigonometry."

"Sure." You both know it's a lie and a bad one at that. Your voice is dull and flat, completely void of emotion. 

"Mom said she's coming home early anyway,” he tries. “Something about overstaffing at the greenhouse."

"Okay."

The mechanical spooling of the garage door tells you he's finally gone. Your elbows slide forward until your head rests on the table, unable to hold it up any longer.

Every fiber of your being yearns for him, to hear the distinct r's and flowery lilt of his accent as he comforts you through the heartbreak, always knowing exactly what to say. It was second nature to call one another when either of you had had a bad day or a good day or just a normal day - you'd talked so often that last year you had convinced your parents to add international minutes to your phone plan. 

Your fingers itch to dial the number you had long since memorized, knowing it would ring no more than twice before he picked up. He never let it go to voicemail unless he absolutely couldn't avoid it and you had a hunch he was waiting for your call.

Despite knowing better, you scroll through the messages on your phone. Love was evident in each witty remark and wish goodnight, pulling at your heartstrings. Your finger hovers over the delete conversation button, and after a minute of debate, you can't bring yourself to do it. You would allow yourself one reprieve to look back on and remember the good.

It would be so much easier if he had given you a reason to hate him. If he'd cheated or intentionally led the media to your house, hating him would be easy. You wouldn't have to admit that you still loved him because his betrayal would have yanked out the newly blooming bud of love you nurtured and crushed the fragile petals. Instead, you were left knowing that it had been your choice to inflict damage in him. You had no right to seek comfort in his arms or even ask how he was doing. You deserved to be miserable for causing him to feel the same way. 

Yuki is the first to check in on you. You don’t know what he expects; you lie through your teeth when you tell him you were fine.

The press is asking me for my thoughts. No idea why. I told them not to stick their noses where they don't belong.

At least someone had the guts to stand up to those bloodsuckers. Yuki was the last person you'd suspect to do so, but the scrappy twenty-something continued to surprise you.

Thanks, you type back. How is he?

You hesitate. You didn't really want to know the answer. Pierre was devastated and just as broken as you are. You delete the last part and opt to refrain from subjecting yourself to biting off more than you could chew.

I'm here if you need me, is Yuki's reply.

Charles, Daniel, and his newly promoted girlfriend were the next ones to text you, all offering varying degrees of support. Daniel's friend was the one that offered to sucker punch anyone that came near you without your permission, and actually dragged a single huff of laughter from your aching lungs.

I'm good thanks. But if I need a bodyguard you'll be first on the list.

Just because Daniel can lift me with one arm doesn't mean I'm not punchy!

I believe you.

Spent, you set your phone down and retreat under the down comforter. The bright pink clashed with your earthy decor, but at least the old blanket didn't smell like Pierre. Your mother had taken it upon herself to erase all trace of him from your room when she had managed to coax you into a shower, and the half hour you had spent letting the scalding water run over your skin had given her plenty of time to do so. The absence of him hurts almost as much as the trace of cedar you know you're imagining when you breathe deep.

It has to be impossible for so much agony to be contained in your body. No matter how much you try, the tears won't stop flowing because Pierre's crushed expression had taken up residence at the forefront of your consciousness. 

It didn't help that so many of your recent memories were touched by his presence. Getting into university served to remind you of the ecstatic call you'd gotten after his race that Sunday, voice strained with a mix of excitement for you and the disappointment of his race ending crash on the opening lap. Even something as simple as staring at the saggy bean bag chair in the corner brought back the memory of the countless times he had lounged there, sprawled out like he owned it.

Max's text brings you briefly back to reality.

You doing okay? Dan told me what happened.

No, was all you say back. Within a minute, Max's face occupies your screen. You sigh but accept the call, laying the phone on the pillow.

"I don't feel like talking, Max."

"That bad huh?" He asks, concern lacing his usually chipper voice.

"Yeah. That bad." As if that summed up getting your heart torn to shreds.

He's uncharacteristically quiet for a beat. "Wanna hear about Vic's day? She had some crazy clients at her salon- it'll take your mind off it."

"I guess," you say, utterly nonplussed. You could care less if he kept talking or not, you wouldn't be paying attention. He prattles on for a few minutes, seemingly unaffected by your silence as his words pass through one ear and out the other.

"Told you it was crazy," he says finally, your cue to respond. You hum noncommittally and Max just sighs.

"Look, I don't know how I can help you unless you come here. I know you have a flight booked- do you still wanna come to the gala? My date's been stolen so I'm in need of one."

"Who stole your-"

The realization hits you before you can finish. Pierre. Pierre stole Max's sister and left him without a date. Something about his willingness to replace you so quickly rubs you the wrong way. It shouldn't have been so easy for him to find someone new; he should be hurting just as much as you. Fundamentally, you knew nothing would happen between Pierre and Victoria. She wouldn't go for him out of respect for both of you and you were thankful in the knowledge that it was completely platonic. Still, it was like rubbing salt in a wound. 

"You know what? I'll go." It was the most you'd said all day, your throat scratchy with disuse. Max whoops on the other line and you could almost see him punching the air in victory.

"Great! When's your flight get in? I'll bring the Acura and pick you up." 

You put him on speaker and login to the airlines website to punch in the flight number. Last night you'd debated canceling the flight that Pierre had paid for, determined to stay home and be miserable. Looking back you were glad you'd trusted your gut and left the reservation untouched. If he could find someone else to attend the gala with, so could you. "I land in Nice at noon on Friday. It'll be a short flight, I can text you when we take off."

"Sounds good. I'll set up the spare room for you. Victoria is staying here too, I'm sure she would love to help you get ready and do whatever it is girls do before fancy events."

"Hey, Max?"

"Whats up?"

You trace patterns through the condensation left by the glass on your nightstand. "Thank you. For understanding."

"That's what friends are for," he assures you. "Is there anything you wanna talk about now? Or are you planning to wait until you're here?"

"Ben's been keeping an eye on me. I'm okay for now." Better now that you had something to look forward to.

"All you have to do is call," he promises. "I'll listen, I don't have anything going on this week besides streaming."

You latch on to the small redirection and run with it. "You and the twitch quartet?"

"They've been kind enough to allow me to join them on the sim this week, yeah."

"I'll try to catch a race. No promises though." 

"See you Friday. Try to contain your excitement."

Your lips twitch upward. "Bye Max."

**********

The rest of the week was more of the same. You stayed home and your family dealt with the swarms of people that still gathered on the lawn each morning not so patiently waiting for you to tell your side of the story. You had decided that the best course of action was to keep your mouth shut and let them figure out for themselves that there was no longer a story to report thanks to the wedge they had driven in your relationship.

By the time Ben drives you to the airport Friday the buzz has died down. You hug your brother tight before checking in for the flight and texting Max. His response is immediate, letting you know he's excited to see you.

You wish you could return the sentiment. You wanted to see your friend, sure, but you were beginning to dread the upcoming gala. Max would be your crutch and you knew he was okay with that, but it still felt wrong. 

Unlike your brother, Max was waiting at the curb when you arrived in Nice. A nondescript cap was perched on his head, the oversized sunglasses he wore hiding his eyes from passersby. His gleaming orange peel of a car attracted more attention than he did for once, people stopping to ogle the Acura as they came and went.

"Hey you," Max greets, a broad grin causing his trademark dimple to appear as he wraps you in a rare hug. You cling to him, throat going tight at the intimacy of it. Max wasn't a physical person by any stretch; if he was hugging you this tightly it meant he knew how broken you were.

He waited for you to break contact first, giving you all the time you need. You sniff and wipe the single tear that had somehow escaped and laugh lightly.

"Hey," you say, voice scratchy. "Thanks for picking me up." 

He waves a hand, brushing it off. "Vic wanted to come but she changed her mind when I told her I was driving."

"Probably a smart choice," you observe, letting him pop the trunk- which was in the front of the car, since the Acura NSX was a mid-engined beast of a Japanese supercar- "and considering your choice of car, she wouldn't have fit anyway."

"This is true." He starts the engine, the roar of which makes a poor old woman a few yards away drop her purse.

The drive back is near silent, broken only by Max's occasional quips about a landmark or an observation about someone's driving. It was impossible for any driver to turn off the analytical part of their brain, their Formula 1 habits crossing into their daily lives. 

When Max parks at the curb outside his apartment, you move to open the door but he hits the lock button. You glance over your shoulder at him and quirk a brow.

"Am I your prisoner?"

"Are you gonna talk about what happened?"

Sighing, you sink back into the seat. The way the bolstering hugs your sides almost makes you believe you could fade into it if you try hard enough. "I wasn't really planning on it."

It had only been a handful of days since you had broken it off, the wound still leaking fresh blood when you poked at it. It refused to scab over or give you any kind of reprieve from the torture.

"You know you'll have to face him tomorrow at some point. He'll want to talk to you."

"That's why I'm going with you. You won't have a problem telling him to leave me alone."

Max sighs. "Yeah, I suppose. If that's what you think is best."

The trudge up the stairs and subsequent silent elevator ride allows your thoughts to wander to Victoria. It wasn't her fault that Pierre had asked her to come with him after you'd canceled, after all she was already planning on going and the late notice meant it was likely no one else could make it, but it didn't stop the pang of jealousy that rocketed through you each time you ruminate on it.

It didn't help when she wrapped you in a hug the moment she saw you and whispered an apology in your ear, like she knew she'd done something wrong. Tears spring to your eyes again and Victoria shoots Max a leave us alone look.

"Uh, I'm gonna hop on the sim. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Thanks Max." Your eyes are pinned to a smudge of dirt on the wood floor, safely out of range of anything triggering. Keeping it together was more of a struggle than you'd expected.

"I hope you don't hate me," Victoria starts genuine concern lacing the words. "It was just easiest-"

"I know," you cut in. "And I don't." Your smile is tight, not quite hitting home as she returns it.

"Well then. Let's figure out how we're gonna do your hair tomorrow, shall we?"

**********

The dress was a single, simple piece of fabric, spun of sunset orange and free of any bells or whistles. The feather light chiffon hugged every supple curve through your hips until flaring out slightly at the bottom just enough to allow you range of motion. The deep vee of the neckline prominently displayed your cleavage, toeing the line between attention grabbing and scandal starting and leaving little to the imagination. The back dropped low, leaving the elegant curve of your spine free to be kissed by the salty Mediterranean breeze.

The dress is nothing special compared to the thousand dollar pieces that the other boy's dates would be wearing, but you didn't have the money- or the will- to find something new. It by no means broke the bank when you picked it up from the second hand store last year, but it looked the part. It had been a showstopper at the spring formal you'd originally worn it to and judging by Max's reaction, it still was.

He let out a low whistle when you stepped into the living room. "I'm sorry, did you pick that out with me in mind?" He laughs and despite yourself, heat rises to your cheeks. You hated being the center of attention, even among friends. "It's the perfect shade of orange to match my tie. I swear I didn't plan it that way!"

"I know you didn't." You give him a forced smile, praying he doesn't call you out on it. The dress you wore hadn't been your first choice. The one you originally planned to wear still sat in your closet at home collecting dust. It had been the perfect shade of blue to compliment Pierre's sky eyes, but it didn't match Max's deeper ocean blue. So at home it had stayed, and you had chosen the orange one because it made the necklace at your throat pop.

Your fingers engulf the stone before you can stop yourself, as they always do when your thoughts wander to him. Him, because you could scarcely think his name before your heart wretches at the reminder of what you'd lost. Flashes of bright smiles and soft kisses filter through your mind, making you lock up. You swear you can feel the ghost of plush lips to your throat and the scrape of callouses over the curve of your spine. Your eyes fall shut, desperate to get lost in the idea of him like you used to.

"You good?"

Max's quiet words startle you back into the present. No, you were in no way shape or form good, but you had no choice to fall back on the familiar mask of humor to cover up your inner turmoil.

"The real question is are you?" You smirk and look him over. The Red Bull navy suit strains over his broad shoulders, suggesting he had put on muscle since the last time he'd been forced into it. "You look stiff as a board in that tux."

"I feel so awkward." He straightens the suit coat and absentmindedly lifts a hand to tousle his hair. You grab his wrist just in time to keep him from ruining his sister's hard work and shoot him a chiding look. He grins sheepishly and lowers his hand.

"Vic would kill me if you got to the gala looking like you got run over." 

"That's a good point." He offers you his arm and you accept the lifeline he unwittingly offers you. "But I refuse to leave the windows up on this beautiful night, so we'll test how well it'll hold."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "You're driving us there?"

"Well duh. I always drive when I'm at home."

You glance sidelong at the glaringly orange Acura parked at the curb a few floors below. Your dress would blend right in with the paint, but perhaps that was a good thing. It would provide that much more of a shock factor when you arrived and stepped out.

"Just don't crash out on the hairpin," you tease half heartedly. 

He rolls his eyes. "At least it's just the two of us so I don't have to call an uber. Vic's getting picked up by-'' Max cuts himself off and gives you an apologetic smile.

"You can say his name," you whisper, eyes trained on the tile of the hallway as you walk. "It's not like he's gone."

"Getting picked up by... Pierre," Max tries, carefully monitoring his neutral tone. God, you thought you could handle it but you can't, stumbling over your own feet with only Max's grip on your arm to catch you.

He'd dance with Vic tonight, and probably countless other women, his hands drifting over their bodies like they'd done on yours only days ago. You'd be forced to watch from the sidelines and make small talk that no one would remember come morning, utterly unable to do anything about it. At least Daniel’s girlfriend would be there to be the voice of reason, if you could peel her away from Daniel long enough to speak with her for any length of time.

Max was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride to the venue, leaving you to study the city as he drove. Few yachts were left in the harbor as the sun was swallowed by the sea, the owners undoubtedly set sail for a weekend getaway. Your gaze involuntarily searched for the slip that held Charles' Ferrari red speedboat that you'd visited countless times with Pierre. The eyesore was hard to miss when surrounded by its monotone brethren, memories flooding back in droves at the sight of it.

Sighing, you turn away to glimpse what you can of the city through the ridiculously tiny sliver of windshield. How anyone could confidently drive the Acura while having so little field of vision was beyond you. It was probably second nature to Max, who weaves through the narrow streets with practiced ease and barely lets off the gas through the corners. 

The city of Monaco rarely slept, and tonight was no different. Soft yellow fluorescent glow seeps from high rise balconies, the occupants soaking up the last dregs of sunlight before heading out to the casinos and clubs. People spilled out of cafes onto the sidewalks, their laughter lingering on the breeze as you speed past.

The list of people you trust enough to get in the car with and let them drive with such intensity is short: Max and Pierre. Not even Daniel made the final cut, not when his then not-girlfriend had recounted the tale of him losing the rear of his McLaren 570s at a track day and nearly sending them into the wall. According to her, he'd been too busy ogling her to keep his full attention on the road, but it was enough for you to question his judgement at times.

If you close your eyes, you could pretend it was someone else next to you, cutting through the gears like a hot knife through butter and coaxing every inch of performance out of the car that he could with the light traffic. You draw a surf-scented breath deep, lungs aching with the effort. 

Max joins the queue of cars waiting to park outside the venue, your attention trained on the guests stepping out of cars and climbing the wide set of marble steps leading to the sleek glass building. The modern structure is slightly out of place among the Roman-esque buildings surrounding it but the air of importance it exudes overrules any who dare say it doesn't belong.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that there's an open bar," Max remarks, hanging his head out the window to wave at someone. "It makes these events so much easier."

"You're telling me," you mumble, searching involuntarily for a familiar head of dusty blond hair in the droves of people arriving. Instead of sight, it's the unforgettable rumble of his Civic Type R's exhaust that alerts you to his arrival. Your head whips around, eyes eating up the pearl white paint of Pierre's favored car as it slides in behind you. You silently thank whatever deity is listening that his windshield is tinted, protecting you from seeing the smirk you are certain is playing on his lips.

Once upon a time, the cockpit of that car had been your favorite place in the world. You'd spent countless hours inside it eating shitty gas station cuisine and singing along to the radio at the top of your lungs as Pierre drove you to whatever adventure he had planned for the day. 

Max waves at your- his friend, you remind yourself sharply- and revs his Acura in response. He leaves the keys with the valet, picking up on the tension in your shoulders as the white car parks behind you. Max tugs your arm in attempt to turn you away, but your feet are rooted to the spot. 

“I see you found another date-” The flash of a grin on Pierre's face as he steps out is immediately dashed when he notices you on Max's arm.

If looks could kill, Max would keel over then and there. A muscle in Pierre's jaw flutters as he takes in the sight of the two of you together, your hand on the Dutchman's forearm and your matching attire looking for all the world as if it was purposefully coordinated. 

Max lifts his chin, spine going straight under Pierre's threatening glare. “Her airfare was already paid for and she already had the dress. Someone had to take her.”

Your stomach sinks; the last thing you wanted to do was become a point of contention between the two boys, but you refused to apologize for at least attempting to enjoy yourself. 

Pierre doesn't speak again, only nods to Max and pointedly avoids your stare. He tosses the keys to the smart-dressed kid serving as his valet, coming around to open Victoria's door. With his back turned to you, you take a moment to study the crisp white suit he's chosen for tonight. You had always told him black wasn't his color and he seemed to have taken it to heart. White was what you loved seeing him in, and the tight cut brought back memories of a different type of suit in an entirely different city only a few weeks ago. You'd peeled him out of that Alpha Tauri race suit the moment he made it to the trailer, eager to worship him after his podium. You'd be lying if you said it hasn't been the best sex of your life.

"Come on," Max urges, placing a chaste hand on your upper back and turning you around. He leads you up the stairs, his comforting touch never leaving your skin for a moment. The callouses were all wrong, the fingers too broad to be who you wanted it to be, and yet you couldn't help but imagine it was Pierre leading you up, stopping to smile for the few cameras scattered around.

Flashes spot your vision as you pull your face into an expression of excitement. Max murmurs something in your ear that you think is encouragement but the din of reporters is too deafening to be sure.

"How come you aren't with Pierre?"

The shouted question comes from an unknown assailant but it strikes you like a physical blow. You freeze, mouth going dry as you search for a suitable excuse. Max grants you the space of a single heartbeat to respond before he does so on your behalf.

"How about you mind your own damn business and worry about your cheating wife?"

The man who had bombarded you goes slack jawed, Max's wild guess clearly somehow hitting him just as hard as he had hit you.

"Keep walking," he urges you, leading you through the blinding sea of flashing lights. When you hear the same question directed at Pierre, his flippant laugh grates on your nerves.  

You don't have it in you to appreciate the grand architecture of the entrance hall, too busy trying to keep your breathing in check. Max steers you off to the side and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Look at me," he demands, and you drag your eyes up to his face. "Breathe. He's hurting just as bad as you, only difference is he's better at hiding it. Just enjoy the night okay? I'll grab you a drink and we can find Daniel and his friend and you two can catch up."

You nod, placing a hand on your throat. The delicate chain of the necklace is a vice around your neck, the reminder of him pulling it tight. Your pulse hammers beneath your fingers and you focus on it until it slows. "Get me whatever you're having."

Max disappears in the crowd, and you take a seat at the bench tucked in the corner. No one pays you any heed as they walk past, entranced by the elegant decor and fragrant florals. Your head falls forward to rest in your hands and you struggle to take deep, calming breaths.

Pierre was here. Inhale.

He looked happy. Exhale.

He was getting by. Inhale.

You could get by, too. Exhale.

Renewed, you glance up in time to find Max standing before you with a drink of dark liquid adorned with maraschino cherries in each hand. He extends one glass to you and you don't bother to question what it is before swallowing half in one go. "Better?"

"Much." You stand and brush out the wrinkles in your dress. "Where are we sitting?"

"Er, about that," Max starts, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "They put two teams at each table. We're at the Red Bull Alpha Tauri table."

"I see." You take another deep, steadying breath, letting the anxiety ebbing in your veins fade out with the exhale. It was times like this that you channeled Daniel a bit. It sounded silly and you would never admit it, but the slogans on his helmets worked if you focused on them hard enough. All good, all ways.

If Pierre could get through tonight, so could you.

“I can try to see if I can switch tables-”

"It's fine," you say and down the rest of the drink. “I can handle it.”

Max shifts on his feet, his discomfort something you rarely see from him. He usually excelled at keeping a straight face in uncomfortable situations but it seems that your unease rubbed off on him. “We should get going then, dinner will be served any minute.”

You once again take the arm he offers you, the liquor in your veins already granting you false courage. “We would have time to mingle if you hadn’t taken the scenic route.”

“It was nice out,” he protests, and pulls you to a halt when he spots Daniel across the hall. His girlfriend waves at you with a sad smile. She gestures between the two of you to indicate that you’ll talk later before Daniel pulls her towards the McLaren table. That boy was punctual to a fault and would be caught dead before he was late to anything.

Thankfully, the two of you arrive before Victoria and her date and are able to secure seats that ensure there’s a buffer between you. By some small miracle Christian Horner and his wife were absent and instead a few engineers and their significant others sat at the packed table. Max greets Gianpiero while you take your seat, happy to observe.

“Hey!”

You twist in time to see Yuki’s short frame emerge from the crowd and point to the empty seat to your right. “This one taken?”

You shake your head, standing to give him a quick hug. “How are you doing? Where’s your date?”

“Ah, she couldn’t make it. Had some family stuff to take care of. You look great, by the way.”

You dip your chin in thanks, unsure how else to respond. He was in a white suit that you were sure would wind up stained five minutes into dinner. “Did they mandate that you wear white?”

He shakes his head with a rueful smile. “Honestly, it’s the only one I own. I haven't been to enough events to build up my closet yet."

"Well I think it's…"

You spot Pierre before he sees you. His brow is slightly creased as he hunts for the correct table using the same focused determination as when driving his Alpha. For a split second, he meets your gaze. The cacophony of the event fades to background noise and suddenly it's just the two of you and you damn near lift your hand in a wave. You're positive he can see your heart beating out of your chest like in an old cartoon as you curl your fingers into a fist in your lap. Your restraint proves fatal, the floor falling out from beneath your feet when he drops your stare. This was your new normal, you remind yourself. Stolen glances were all you would get.

"I can move," Yuki says, starting to rise. You grip his wrist, holding him in place.

"Please don't." The only other open seats were across the table, and at least then you didn't have to worry about brushing elbows with him all night long.

Yuki nods, slowly settling back in. Max finally takes his seat after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"You don't have to say anything to him," he reminds you, barely audible over the scrape of chairs and various chatter.

You find anywhere else to look as Pierre pulls out Vic's chair for her and makes his rounds to greet everyone. Daniel and his girlfriend are seated a few tables away and you distract yourself by attempting to read their lips. You manage a few minutes of tenuous peace, catching snippets of Daniel's cheesy jokes and her disapproving, yet flirty, responses.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of home. His words are honey and you lap them up like you'd never tasted anything sweeter. They weren't even directed at you and yet somehow you twist them to fit your narrative.

Pierre stands at the bottom of the stairs like a chaste high school prom date patiently waiting for your grand entrance. He checks his watch and rakes a hand through his messy hair. You stifle your laugh with a hand, amused by his unnecessary nervous energy.

Taking mercy on him, you clear your throat. His gaze snaps up to you, mouth falling open. You take your time gathering the orange fabric of your dress and descending the stairs, savoring the way he eats you up. He was resplendent in his crisp white tuxedo and you had half a mind to make him late for the gala and strip him out of it then and there and devour him.

Your heels clack on the marble floor of his entirely too fancy apartment and you pause to do a little spin for him, earning you an appreciative whistle for your trouble. A laugh bubbles out of you and you place your hands on his shoulders. His own settle on your waist to pull you flush against him, his body heat soaking through the thin fabric of your dress to warm your core.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You start when knuckles graze the back of your bare neck. The touch is there and gone but you know immediately that it's Pierre. It's slight enough to be brushed off as accidental to anyone else, but nothing was accidental with Pierre. The barely there contact conveys more than any words ever could. 

He still loved you. You looked stunning. He wishes you were still his so he could prove it to you. All this and so much more contained in a half second brush of his skin to yours.

It all comes back to you in a rush, the emotion you'd so carefully tucked away in a locked box in the back of your mind finally set free. His touch ignites any other thought in your mind that isn't him, burning it away until it's ashes on the wind. 

Despite your better judgement, you lean into him, giving him permission to unravel you. This time you sigh when his fingers ghost over your skin, electricity sparking in their wake. You didn't care who might be watching; the tiny touches were slowly repairing your shattered heart. Your traitorous mind replaces his fingers with the brush of his lips to your nape, imagining the heat as he slides the strap of your dress off your shoulder, lips moving to follow.

You bite your lip to stifle a groan when his heat is withdrawn, leaving you feeling inexplicably naked. You open your eyes to find Victoria's pitying stare paired with an apologetic smile. Max nudges you with his elbow, and you realize someone has addressed you.

"Um, what?"

"I said I like how you guys coordinated outfits," Pierre repeats and openly prods your shoulder. "Obviously Max chose the color."

His tone is playful, but his words are clipped in a way only you understand. Craning your neck, you twist to look up at him. His eyes are cloudy and his smile doesn't reach them, more for show than anything else. "It was an accident."

"Doesn't look that way."

Your retort is ready on your tongue but he doesn't give you a chance to reply before retreating to his seat. His ability to act as if nothing has changed astounds you, as your head is still reeling from the pinpricks of his skin on yours. Instead of being rendered speechless, he strikes up a conversation with Yuki about the Alpha's performance, leaving out the confidential details but giving enough away that it surprises you.

The sheer fact that he can so easily switch off whatever feelings he harbors is unfair. The sensation of his fingers on your neck still lingers and it's all you can do to keep from stepping around the table and slotting yourself between his legs like you had in that bar in London. Your nails bite into your palms, listening in if only for his voice to wash over you and calm your racing heart.

When he mentions the rake angle, you know it's just to mislead anyone who might be eavesdropping. He'd told you the exact angle in the past, and it certainly was not one degree, and it did not cause the level of understeer he was describing.

"The understeer comes from improper tire selection," you blurt. "And driver error."

All eyes turn to you and you straighten. You knew enough about the construction of a Formula 1 car to be positive your assessment was correct. You were almost as certain that he'd said it to force you into speaking to him whether you liked it or not.

"What was that?"

If Pierre could torment you with his subtle touches, you could do the same and call him out when he was wrong.

"Driver error caused the rear end to slide out around that turn in Japan, not the rake angle. That's got nothing to do with it. Your tires were blistered because of you taking an imperfect racing line and they were old. You miscalculated the level of traction they'd give you."

Why no one else had pointed it out was beyond you.

"So you're an engineer now?" Pierre challenges, crossing his arms. Something about the arrogance radiating from him rubbed you the wrong way. You let all the emotion of the past few days surface and add fuel to the fire.

"No, but I've learned enough to see through the bullshit drivers spin to mislead other teams."

Max murmurs your name in warning but your frustration is boiling over. He replaced you tonight, didn't even pause to consider going alone and instead choosing to take Victoria. Sure, it had been your fault that he was dateless, but that didn't give him the right to hurt you too. He knew it would destroy you to see him with anyone else even if it was completely platonic, but he did it anyway.

"Why don't you tell me where I should brake on turn ten since you're an expert all of a sudden?" Victoria lays a hand on his arm but he yanks it out of her grip. "What crack in the pavement? Or is it a mark on the barrier? Drive one lap in my car and then you can tell me how to drive."

It wasn't your analysis that had upset him. You'd done so plenty of times and he had always taken your criticism with an open mind, using it to tweak his driving style to improve his lap time or turn it into a teaching experience so you could learn. No, judging by the way his eyes are lined with silver that he fights to blink away, it's your betrayal that upsets him and rightfully so. You glance around the table but no one is willing to meet your eyes save for Max, who angles his head as if to say fight for it.

But you can't. It's monumentally easier to let Pierre win and sweep it under the rug than to address the deeper issue. "I was trying to help," you say lamely, picking at the salad in front of you.

"You don't get to do that anymore."

The venomous words hit like knives, knocking the breath out of you. Your mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air but any reply you think up dies on your tongue.

As the music fades out and a man climbs up onto the stage, Pierre gets up and leaves. You track his progress as he weaves through tables, noting Daniel reaching for him as he passes. You flinch when the balcony door slams behind him, an astonished murmur rocking through the crowd.

"You should probably talk to him," Max whispers.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. You had no idea what you would say. 'Sorry' was insignificant and 'I love you' would be cruel when the barest of thought regarding how the media treated you made your stomach churn. 

Max pulls his phone out under the table and you think you see Charles' name on the screen. Good; someone had to make sure Pierre didn't do anything he would regret in the morning and if it wasn't you, Charles was the next best chaperone. A minute later, the Ferrari driver leaves his seat too, exiting the same way as Pierre. 

Focusing on what's said on stage proves fruitless. Try as you might, your attention is trained on the side door Pierre had disappeared through, praying he returns despite knowing it would mean more barbed words hurled at you. Neither he nor Charles return at any point during the presentation. His absence was quickly becoming a gaping black hole, swallowing up any semblance of sanity you had managed to gather in preparation for tonight.

"Try to have some fun," Max says, nudging you with an elbow. "As soon as this guy shuts up I’ll get us some more drinks and then we can eat and get out on the dance floor and forget about everything, yeah?"

You nod. You already feel the buzz of the first drink, and one or two more would push you thoroughly over the edge into blissful forgetfulness. "I don't wanna be sad anymore."

**********

He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away from you before he said something that would tear whatever hope he held of repairing what was between you to ribbons. He registers Daniel's low, "Gas, you good?" as he breezes past, but doesn't pause to answer. His sights are locked on the wide, carved oak doors that lead to fresh air.

The breath whooshes out of him when he flings open the balcony doors. They slam behind him and he winces. Chalk that up as something else for Helmut to pick him apart for on Monday.

Pierre rakes a trembling hand through his hair and rests his elbows on the railing, sucking in lungfuls of air like he'd just surfaced from a dive in the harbor. 

When you'd agreed to come to the gala with him, he had been overjoyed. You hadn't made it to the winter gala earlier this year due to a last minute exam and he had sulked the entire night. He still had the place card embossed with your name in the fishbowl by his door, the sizable container nearly overflowing with memories of you. Everything from forgotten earrings to plastic hotel key cards filled the bowl and it was a bright reminder of your adventures together. His plan had been to add another place card to the mix after tonight but after what he'd just said to you, he'd rather forget today ever happened. 

He fucking hurt. Everything just hurt, from the shirt collar scratching at his neck to the bone deep ache that had started when he laid eyes on you on those steps, arm locked with Max's. You'd stolen the words from his mouth, the jab he'd planned to toss at Max dying at the sight of you. 

He hadn't expected you to come tonight. Despite anyone's objections, he'd been fully prepared to get completely shit faced to the point that the ghost of your skin no longer haunted his fingertips and your voice no longer sang in his head. But seeing your damned face had shattered the false reality he had constructed, the one where you never broke him and left him scrambling to piece himself back together.

The universe had dealt him another low blow when he discovered Red Bull and Alpha Tauri would be at the same table and he'd be forced to endure your presence at arms length, close enough to touch but absolutely not allowed to do so. It was his own personal hell, constructed solely to punish him for whatever transgressions he'd made in his life.

And that fucking dress. 

The orange painted the aquamarine charm at the hollow of your throat in sharp relief, showing it off like he somehow still owned you. If you had arrived with him, he would have already led you back to the Civic and bunched that damned dress up past your hips to drag his favorite sounds from you with his tongue. If he could just get you alone, he's sure it wouldn't take more than a single touch to have you crashing into him and begging for more.

Seeing you with Max tonight paints an entirely different picture.

It's Max he sees tearing off the dress at the end of the night when you get back to his apartment. Max's hands slide over your hips and you laugh, walking back so you can keep your lips on his as he slams the door shut behind you. You dip your head back when he presses you to the wall, Max unfaltering as his lips and teeth trace the curve of your exposed throat and he slips the straps of the matching dress of your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Max's name breezes past your lips on a shaky exhale as you become putty beneath his fingers.

No matter how loud Pierre calls your name, you don't hear him, instead cupping the back of the Dutchman's head and pulling him in for a heated kiss. When you do finally notice him observing from afar, agony wracking his body, all you do is grin. It feels real, even though Pierre is certain it's a crazed fever dream, his mind spinning his worst fear to life: you seeking comfort in the company of someone that wasn't him.

Pierre starts when the door squeaks open, the nightmare thankfully dissolving. Charles steps out clad head to toe in blazing Ferrari red and instantly he knows who sent him. The thought alone stokes rage in his chest, the image of your lips on Max's still fresh.

"Not as easy as you expected it to be, is it?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Fuck off," Pierre growls and immediately regrets it. Beyond you, Charles was his closest friend. They had known each other for ages. It wasn’t a friendship he was willing to sacrifice just because he felt like shit. Pierre sighs and throws him an apologetic glance. "No it's not."

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"She doesn't want to fucking talk, Charles. Take one look at her, she's hanging on Max like she can't get enough of him." Pierre hangs his head in his hands, emotions shifting faster than he did on race day. "I can't go back in there and watch her choose him over me."

"You don't really believe that bullshit, do you?" Charles asks, joining him at the railing.

Not entirely, but he still struggled to understand your thought process. He thought he knew you, but you being here tonight when he had been certain you wouldn't be proved he didn't. 

"I don't know what to believe anymore. I thought it would be forever, that I'd finally found someone who didn't mind my lifestyle and accepted it for what it was, who loved me unconditionally. I thought she was my forever."

"You think she's done with you just because some assholes invaded her privacy?" Charles shakes his head. "She's loved you for a long time, years even. You haven't seen the looks she gives you, but the rest of us have. You hung the moon in her sky, Pierre. That kind of thing doesn't just get swept away by the breeze."

His shoulders curl inward in an attempt to hide the frustrated tear that escapes him. "What am I supposed to do?"

Charles shrugs. "I don't think there's a right answer to that. Try giving her some space. She didn't grow up in the spotlight like we did. It's not an easy adjustment for some people, mate. And blowing up on her when she tries to make conversation doesn't help anything," he says gently. "Let her figure it out and come to you when she's ready."

The concept of letting you go even temporarily was terrifying to him. Waiting on you to make the first move was even worse because he was setting his fate in your hands. 

"I miss her," he murmurs, turning his face to his friend.

"I know." Charles throws an arm around the taller man's shoulders and follows his gaze out over the tiered streets of Monaco's city center. "My suggestion is to throw yourself into the season. Show her you know how to fight, y'know?"

Pierre nods. He could do that. It was how he normally handled his problems anyway; let the track wick away whatever was on his mind and force him to hone in on the details surrounding him in each moment. 

"You ready to head inside?" Charles asks.

"I don't think I can go back just yet."

"Want me to hang out here with you?"

"No. I'll be back eventually."

Charles' hand falls from his shoulder after a short squeeze, the sound of a tinny voice over the speakers temporarily flooding the balcony as Charles returns to the banquet. Pierre allows himself a few more moments of reprieve before slipping back inside just as the applause starts. Rather than returning to the delicately portioned meal that sat cooling before his empty chair, he orders a drink. Whiskey on the rocks, his go to in times of crisis. He takes one sip before the reminder of you ordering it for him in London makes holding the glass of caramel liquid unbearable and he downs it in a single swallow, going back to order a beer instead.

He nurses the green bottle of Heineken as he leans against the wall until the meal is finished and the chit chat starts. You stand with Max, practically pressed against him as you snatch a flute of champagne from a passing server. You search the crowd, brows drawing together when you don't locate your quarry. Pierre had made sure that he was tucked out of the low lighting, unsure if he could survive you stealing worried glances at him all night. 

Charles winds his way over to pass off a roll he snagged from dinner, practically forcing the Frenchman to eat it before returning to his date. He nibbles at it absentmindedly, entirely too focused on you to divert an ounce of focus elsewhere.

Your dress is a glowing sun in a sea of earth tone garments, drawing his eye as you pull Max out onto the wood platform serving as the dance floor before the tables are fully cleared. The flush in your cheeks tells him you're deeper in your cups than you should be; Max didn't know your limit as well as he did. Three drinks was all you could manage before you got tipsy, five if you wanted to be completely blitzed. 

The lights dim and his hiding spot is no longer quite as good as the party lights sweep over him from time to time. Max places one hand on your hip and you place one on his shoulder and grin up at him. Judging by the fit of giggles that requires you to lean into Max for support, you were teetering dangerously on the edge of being wholly drunk. You throw your head back and laugh at whatever Max says in response to your fit, Pierre straining to hear the musical sound over the band. 

"Hey," Victoria says, breaking his concentration. "You wanna get out there?"

Pierre grimaces. He had managed to completely forget about her, too stuck in his own head. "Sorry, Vic. I don't think I'd be a very good partner tonight."

"No worries," she says, a soft, understanding smile on her lips. "I can keep myself busy."

Pierre nods his thanks, his attention immediately returning to the dance floor. Daniel and his girlfriend steal the show, both laughing as he dips and twirls her across the floor. 

Being together was so fucking easy for them, effortless in a way it wasn't for you and Pierre. They never once paid any heed to the photographers that swarmed them or the headlines printed about them, they just laughed the rumors off and carried on. No one could question their love for each other because they were vocal about it- sometimes annoyingly so- and Daniel was rarely seen in public without her at his side. They were always touching, holding hands or stealing kisses or even the near scandal of his hand blatantly on her ass at the podium a few races back, and neither of them cared.

Their love was all that mattered. They didn't care who knew it.

But you and Pierre were far too private to be like that, at least not when you were still trying to figure things out yourself. The first sign of outside pressure had you cracking, and he wouldn't stand for knowing he was the source of your pain.

He tries and fails to convince himself he isn't jealous of the way Dan's hand so easily glides under the navy blue silk of her dress to caress her back without a second thought, wishing he could do the same to you. If he's being honest, he's living vicariously through Daniel for the next few songs, pretending he was someone else observing you and himself on the dance floor instead. It almost works; the way she shudders when his lips graze her ear is strikingly similar to how you'd react. The smile she flashes up at him is agonizingly close to your own wicked grin.

When her mouth finds his, Pierre gathers his wits and turns away. Their blatant public affection flipped a switch inside him, disgust rocking through him for a split second before he pushed it away.

He was happy for them. He knew what a long, rocky road it had been for them to become lovers instead of friends, had firsthand knowledge of the stress they'd gone through before they'd finally admitted their feelings to each other, put their pride aside and got together. Pierre had been the one to offer her advice on a night not much different than this one months ago, helping repair the damage Daniel's idiotic, thoughtless words had caused. 

But Pierre had since become the person who was sickened at the sight of others in love. It reminded him that part of himself was missing and he hated it.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering back to you. You still occasionally scan the room as Max struggles to lead you through a dance. By some stroke of bad luck your gaze snags on him just as a spotlight illuminates his face and he grimaces. A slow blink is the only surprise you let show before laying your head on Max's shoulder. Jealousy spikes through him like wildfire, igniting his blood and tinging his vision with red.

He wants to march over and rip you off Max. He wants you tucked safely against him as his thumb rubs circles on the bare skin of the small of your back. He wants, more than anything, to take you to his apartment and half carry you up the stairs, having to shush you because you're giggling loud enough to wake the dead, and lay you down in his bed. He wants to help you out of that stunning dress and into a pair of his sweats and curl up against you, letting you sleep off your hangover until noon.

He'd fucked up that chance though, hadn't he? He had slipped up and driven you straight into your friend's arms, who he trusted not to make a move on you but not enough to negate the jealousy coursing through him.

In that moment, he hates you. He hates the hold you have on him, the way a simple gesture between half-drunk friends could send him into a spiral so steep he didn't recognize himself. He hates that he can't keep his eyes off you, your gravity too strong for him to resist.

Most of all, he hates that he doesn’t know how to quit you.

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max​ @sunshinesewis​ @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval 

[xoxo-teddybear]

Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt. 1

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Ep. Warnings: cursing, mentions of abuse and manipulation, slice of life(ish), manga spoilers!!

A/N: Ok so this is just what I daydream about, and since ima tv addict, I’m involving some “Avatar: The Last Airbender” related things, but a little different. This is more of an introduction to our character but I hope you enjoy!

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Summary: It’s Y/N’s first day at UA.....as a “former” villain

“Y/N L/N. She’s a new transfer student. Treat her with your respect and do your best to take care of her.” The tired teacher spoke.

“.......Hey. Please treat me well.” The intimidating girl said as she bowed in respect.

Now if you were to see Y/N on the streets as a stranger, you wouldn’t even think she would have this threatening aura. The class agreed. She’s gorgeous. From a far, you would think she’s a sweetheart, But the girl had a cold, calm stare in her E/C eyes. There was actually no way to describe it. It was just chilling to the bone.

Not only that, but it was clear you were a little rebel. Mainly because of the way you decided to change up your uniform. Your sleeves were torn off to make your button up top some sort of tight fitted turtle neck with a tie that was complimenting your busty figure. Especially since it was tightly tucked into your skirt, pressing against your torso instead of loosely sitting in there like the other girls. You also added a small dark brown belt to cover where your skirt and top meet. Your waist gave the perfect show of how curvaceous you truly were. Your thighs were deliciously thick and your ass must’ve been a perfect peach, considering it caused your skirt to seem a little too small for you. Instead of the typical shoes and knee high socks, you opted for thigh high dark brown leather boots that folded at the top to match your belt. No heel though, of course. Gotta keep it casual. You finished off your rebellious look with a pair of black leather fingerless gloves. Do you look like trouble? Yup. Do you look hot as hell though? You bet.

“You may be seated next to Katsuki Bakugou.” Your new teacher spoke. Before anybody else could give an indication of who this “Bakugou” boy was, an electric blonde spoke up.

“Be careful with that one pretty lady, he’s our resident hot head.” The boy spoke while the entire class giggled.

“Shut it dunce face.” Your eyes shifted from one blonde to another. This time with a spiky head of ash blonde hair and piercing red eyes. As you walk towards your new seat, you made eye contact with the spiky blonde, you saw the look on his face. Just like everyone else, a face of fear and shock, except this time the person didn’t know who you were.

Bakugou could definitely say upon first glance, you were definitely something fierce. It threw him off just how powerful your presence was. He quickly turned away as you took your seat.

As class began, everyone had their eyes on Y/N. Some admiring her beauty, others wary of her aura, and some too nervous to mention their newfound fear of her. In the middle of Mr. Aizawa’s boring lecture, a scratch at the door could be heard.

‘A scratch?’ Everyone thought. But Y/N knew exactly who it was.

When Mr. Aizawa went to open the door, in came what appears to be a wolf-dog. Mr. Aizawa seemed to casually accept it and just expected you to explain. He was too tired to deal with this crazy shit.

“Oh..there you are Rumor. Took you long enough to find this place.” The creature, also somehow intimidating, simply just huffed at the girl and layed down next to her seat in between her and Bakugou.

“L/N, please explain to the class why Rumor is here. They clearly seem to be confused.” Y/N looked around the room to see her new classmates staring at her and her furry friend.

“*sigh* he’s my animal companion.” You simply stated. Apparently it didn’t satisfy your peers because a freckled, green haired boy spoke up.

“Animal companion? Like a service dog?” The timid boy asked. You secretly rolled your eyes at the fact you’ll have to answer this question again. That is until Bakugou spoke.

“You damn nerd, if he was a service dog, she woulda said that now, don’t ‘cha think?” ‘Dunce face and a damn nerd huh? Wonder what new nickname this hedgehog will give me.’ Your little quip made you give the smallest smile with a quiet laugh to yourself

What you didnt realize was that during your little moment, Bakugou was watching you the entire time. He fought the blush that was threatening to rise and successfully won. ‘The hell?’ Bakugou thought. Since when did he blush?

“He’s right. Rumor isn’t my service dog, he’s my animal companion. And no, not my pet. He’s more like a close friend. My best friend if anything. He’s also not a dog either, he’s a changeling.” You explained hoping someone else knew what a changeling was. Thankfully, the “damn nerd” did.

“Changeling? I thought they were just a myth.” He said. “What the heck is a changeling, Deku?” You turned and saw it was a girl with a round face and pink cheeks. ‘Deku? How rude’ you thought to yourself.

“Changelings were rumored to be magical like beasts who could take the form of any animal they chose. Those forms could be as real as eagles and bears or as mythical as dragons and unicorns. They could also change the size of their form too. Am I right, L/N?” Deku asked you.

“You’re completely right, Deku.” The green haired boy blushed at his nickname on your tongue. “Rumor can be any creature I command. His wolf-dog form is his casual form though. It’s the form he took at birth I guess.”

“You guess?” Bakugou asked.

“Yes, I guess. I didn’t have Rumor since he was born. I found him while I was on a walk in the forest. We just clicked, and he followed me home. That’s when I discovered his powers and what he was, and seeing that changelings were only rumored to have existed, I thought it would’ve been a fitting name. We’ve been together ever since, and not only does he work as a friend, he’s a fighter too. He’s like a partner to me which is exactly why principle Nezu allowed him to attend UA with me. I guess you could say he’s part of my...uhm..quirk” You thoroughly explained. You couldn’t help it. You loved talking about Rumor. He was your best friend and definitely one of a kind.

Rumor looked up at you and barked. You turned to pet him on the head and gave him a little smile. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by the resident hot head, which once again caused him to fight back a blush. ‘The fuck is going on with me today?’ The blonde thought to himself. Finally satisfied with the answers, the class picked up where they left off and continued to learn about quirks which didn’t seem all that useful to you since....you don’t have one.

——————————————————————————

Later

“Remember, we will all be meeting at gym gamma tomorrow morning, so don’t bother coming to the classroom. Just meet up there with any comfortable gym wear.” Mr. Aizawa said at the end of the day.

“Yes sir!” The class all said. “L/N stay behind, I need to speak to you and Rumor.” The tired teacher said with a yawn.

“Yes sir.” You calmly replied.

As the class gathered their things to leave, some came up to speak to you. First it was Deku and the round faced girl.

“Welcome to UA L/N. My name is Izuku Midoriya!” Deku said.

“Oh my apologies. I thought I heard that your name was Deku.” You said so nonchalantly with your sweet voice.

“Well it’s just a nickname that started up with Kacchan.” The boy was now blushing in slight embarrassment while rubbing the back of his head.

“Kacchan? I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is.” You said.

“Oh right! My bad, Kacchan is Bakugou. It’s a name I gave him during our childhood.” He stated.

“Seems a little mean.” You chuckled

“Yeah but he’s always been like that.” The boy smiled with a small laugh.

“I think I can tell. He must be really nice to Deku and Dunce face.”

You both shared a laugh at your little sarcastic poke at the explosive blonde that the girl was feeling a little left out.

“Anyways, I’m Ochako Uraraka! I was really hoping I could talk to you more but Deku over here can’t seem to keep his mouth shut.” the girl slightly teased.

“Meh. No worries. We’re gonna be stuck together for the next few years. We have plenty of time to get to know each other.” You so kindly spoke as you gathered your stuff.

“Totally! We can-“ Uraraka was cut off by a very handsome two toned boy with a scar. He definitely reminded you of some you knew. You watched as he came up to speak to Midoriya.

“Hey, Midoriya. Did you want to...” you tuned out his conversation. You simply just stared at him in awe. No doubt about it. He was definitely Dabi’s brother. But he was a whole lot more handsome.

The boy caught onto your staring and introduced himself.

“Hello L/N, my name is Shoto Todoroki. You may know me from my father, Endeavor, but I assure you, I’m nothing like him. In fact it’s safe to say I hate him.” He stated ever so calmly. ‘Wow. So blunt. And I guess hating Endeavor runs in the family’

“Hey it’s fine. I get it, daddy issues.” You nervously laughed but this seemed to strike an interest in Todoroki as he seem to have wanted to continue bashing both of your fathers until he was interrupted by Bakugou.

“You’re in my way Icy-hot.” ‘Jeez, another nickname?’ You thought.

“Then move to another side.” Todoroki quickly came back with.

This caused you to now openly give a quiet laugh, you could already tell what kind of relationship those two have. During your small laugh, Bakugou once again caught himself staring, except this time, he was caught. And it was by you.

You both made eye contact once again. As he stared into your E/C colored eyes, and you stared into his rubied gems, you both grew a slight blush on your cheeks and the 3 standing next to you both took notice.

“Hey..” you sweetly said.

“..........hey.” He replied and quickly looked away embarrassed. That peaceful little moment made your heart stir. Something that hasn’t happened in a long time. If felt calming, loving, happy...and weird and confusing. Thankfully, Dunce face came up to flip the switch.

“Wow Kacchaaannn,” the electric blonde said wiggling his brows. “Never seen you blush like that. You got a little crush on the new gir-“

“SHUT UP SPARK PLUG!” Bakugou exclaimed as he quickly made his way out of the classroom.

“Hey why you gotta be so mean all the time man!” Dunce face cried out.

“I SAID SHUT UP” Bakugou screamed from down the hall. ‘Well he certainly is interesting.....and cute’

“Ah jeez, whatever,” the blonde sighed before you seemed to have caught his attention.

“Well hey there pretty lady,” he started “I’m Denki Kaminari and you are one gorgeous girl. And you definitely got a rockin’ bod-“ he was cut off by our scary teacher.

“That’s enough Kaminari, I need to speak to L/N. Now all of you, out.” He commanded.

They all took their leave thinking about how cool and kind you were. Oh how wrong they were. The little act you put up sure was convincible. Hell, the only thing you genuinely meant was that Todoroki and Bakugou were cute and the blush that came up whenever Bakugou stared at you. You still couldn’t explain it but you brushed it off.

When all were gone, you mentally took notes of their names and possible quirks.

Izuku Midoriya. Alias: Damn Nerd and Deku. Quirk: unknown.

Ochako Uraraka. Alias: unknown. Quirk: unknown.

Shoto Todoroki. Alias: Icy-hot. Quirk: possibly related to cold and heat

Denki Kaminari. Alias: Dunce Face and Spark Plug. Quirk: possibly related to electricity

Katsuki Bakugou. Alias: Kacchan. Quirk: unknown

“L/N.” Your teacher snapped you out of your quick thought and got you focused.

“You seemed to be very comfortable with telling them about Rumor.” Mr. Aizawa said with an eyebrow raised.

“Well he is my best friend. I could go on and on about Rumor for hours if people didn’t stop me. And you can’t lie, he is pretty interesting. Especially his fighting style. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you....Eraser Head?” You said with a sinister smile.

You were well aware that Aizawa knew Rumor’s capabilities very well. You were also aware he knew much about yours too. I mean, you both have fought each other before. And one of you almost didn’t make it out alive. Hint hint, it wasn’t you.

“You are to address me as Aizawa Sensei or Mr. Aizawa, Titania.” He sternly said.

“Ouch, the villain name? I thought the past was the past. There’s a good inside me, dont you remember? You were the one who said it after all. You were even the one who recommended an S-Class villain like me should join UA.” You snidely replied.

*flashback*

As you fought against the skilled pro, you could tell he was getting weaker and weaker by the second. You used your air bending to push him back, crushing him into the wall, and keep him far away. Before you could send Rumor in to finish the job, a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Kurogiri? What are you doing here?” You stopped fighting and quickly turned to your superior in a fearful and shaky manner. Although you were much stronger than him and could easily take him down, you knew better. Your mind had already been so manipulated into thinking you were the weakest villain in the league, when it reality, you were strong enough to take down Shigaraki in a snap...but you didn’t need to know that.

Eraser Head, too tired and beaten to even pick himself up off the ground watched the interaction from the distance.

“You were told to collect intel, not fight a pro.” The black fog stated.

“Well yes, but he tried to stop me an-“ he silenced you with a smack to the face. Kurogiri was a respectful man...in ways...but he was just following orders on how to treat Y/N.

“If he tried to stop you, you run away.” He said, matter of factly.

“But he-“ once again, he cut you off but this time with a louder voice.

“But nothing! You were to gather intel and report back to base. Not fight. If you got into trouble, you are to run away, and use your bending and Rumor as assistance.” He stated.

“Yes sir. I’m sorry sir.” You said with your head bowed down in dishonor.

Aizawa could already tell from afar how controlled you were. In past fights, he’s noticed how you were so quick to succumb to any villain in the league, and you were always so willing to go back to them no matter how many times you could’ve ran away on your own. It was like they had something you needed, or more so it was them that you needed. For survival, perhaps?

“Did you even gather the information we needed?” Kurogiri asked.

Your silence gave him all the answers he needed. With a disappointing glare he reached for you, when you flinched at just the slighted movement, Aizawa knew something was wrong. Yes you were a villain, but it was clear you were also a manipulated child. So he acted quick, and attacked Kurogiri, knocking him out, and grabbed you. Before you both took off, you threw one of your earrings at kurorgiri’s unconscious body, knowing he’ll know what to do once he sees it. As he ran with you, he took notice of the animal behind him that followed you. When he finally landed on a cliff hanging over the city, he placed you down to sit on the grass and looked at you before speaking.

“I can see it. All of it. They’re controlling you aren’t they?” The pro-hero spoke.

“Excuse me? Nobody is controlling anybody! I choose to follow orders!” You yelled as Rumor came up to you.

“What is that thing?” Aizawa asked.

“He’s my friend and you won’t harm him!” You said while grabbing onto Rumor.

The pro took note of that word you used. Friend. Villains don’t have friends, they don’t have anybody but goons and partners in crime. Literally. You were definitely different compared to these other villains.

“I have no intentions on harming you or your friend.” The pro spoke.

“So what do you want with me.”

“....Simple. I want you to go to school, live in the dorm rooms, eat good food, train more to become better as a person and fighter, and make more friends. I see a good in you Titania, you deserve a good life. Not one controlled by villains where you do their bidding for what? Survival?” Aizawa said as he crossed his arms while looking at you.

You were in shock. He was able to figure you out. Well, he figured out why you were with the league. Survival. But it doesn’t matter, you were so brainwashed that you were convinced anyone outside the league wanted to kill you...at least that’s what the LOV told you.

“I don’t want to go to school, I want to go back home to the league.” You said while looking down and holding onto your furry friend.

“Home? UA could give you a better home.”

You looked up in shocked at his words. He wanted you to attend school at UA? You know that place. That’s the one place where the league has been so invested in ever since All Might joined the staff there. Suddenly, an idea came into thought. You knew exactly how you were gonna get into the league’s good graces and out of the cold shadow.

“UA?....That’s where you want me to go? How the hell am I supposed to get in there? I’m a known villain genius.” You sarcastically said.

“A villain hidden behind a full face mask. People don’t know your true identity, and did you ever think that maybe the league wants it that way?” He said

“Are you saying you know who I truly am?” You questioned him.

“No, but that doesn’t matter right now. If you want to go to UA, I can help you. I’m a teacher there and I can put in a good word for you. Sure it will take a lot of convincing but I’m willing to do it. Using UA as a reformatory program for you could be benefitting you in more ways than one. So if going to UA is what you really want, I’m more than happy to help you Titania.”

You couldn’t believe it. Your heart was so excited. You were finally going to get away from this horrible life of crime and killing. Away from the abuse and blood. Away from the league. But your brain was telling you to deny it all. You were safer with the league, everyone is out to get you, and you will die without the villains help. But a bark broke you out of thought.

You turned to your side to see what seems to be a smile on Rumor’s face. He was wagging his tail and sticking his tongue out while giving you puppy dog eyes. It appears he knew what was going on and he seemed excited. For your best friend, the world. So you gave in...happily.

“Y/N.” You said while getting up off the ground.

“Huh?” The pro spoke.

“My name is Y/N L/N, and I’d be happy to join UA.” You said with a smile and tears of joy filling you eyes. Rumor happily barked at the pro as well.

“Well alright then,” the pro said sticking out his hand for you to shake, “Y/N L/N, welcome to UA.”

As you shook his hand your smile held a thousand words. Happiness, excitement, villainy, and sin. Sure you were going to benefit yourself, but you were also going to benefit the league.

*Present Time*

“I was hoping I’d get more respect from you considering I was the one who got you into UA,” Aizawa tiredly said while turning his head towards the ceiling and crossing his arms. “But I guess that mischief and attitude just comes with the deal.”

“Correct.” You simply said.

“So are you willing to tell them what your “quirk” is? You seemed so open about Rumor, I thought your powers would be the same.” Aizawa pressed on.

“Not sure yet. I only just met the students. They seem nice.” You said while looking at your now very interesting shoes.

“They’re a crazy bunch, but they’re incredible friends. They could be great friends to you too Y/N.” You looked back up at him with hope, but quickly remembered why you were there in the first place.

The teacher took noticed of this and continued. “Either way, they’ll have to see what you got tomorrow. In gym gamma we’ll be doing some sparring including our quirks, so you’ll have to show them all that you can do.” He said.

He saw how that made you nervous. Not because you were scared to speak about or show your abilities, but because you knew you would be hit with thousands of questions. Oh how annoyed you must be.

“Understood.” You said to him as if you were a soldier. He won’t get used to that. He’ll have to make sure you know it’s ok to speak to people as..well people, and not like everyone is your superior.

“Good,” he began to walk to his yellow sleeping bag to pick it up, “now head to the front of the school. I left an escort for you to help guide you to your dorm room. That person will also be a guide in all things UA for you so be nice. You’ll be stuck with them for awhile. That is all, you can go now.”

As you and Rumor made your way to the front, you had so many questions going on in your mind. Should you make new friends or keep them at a distance? Should you completely drop the league and join UA? Should you blow your cover and expose why your truly there? What to do, what to do.

When you made it to the front, you finally saw your escort, and you couldn’t help but give a little smirk.

“Hey..”

A/N: If y’all wanna see the clothes that inspired Y/N’s uniform, check this out!!!

A/N: Damn guys, I know I’ve only just started writing but this is kinda the story I imagine in my mind at night. So I thought it would be fun to give it to reality. So here’s my first FanFic😅 hopefully it doesn’t turn out too terrible, but I promise to work on my skills and improve. Also, if you need a reference to what Y/N’s uniform looks like, search up “Akame from Akame Ga Kill.” That’s the look that heavily inspired Y/N’s new uniform. And if you’re confused on what the boots look like, search up “Lucy Heartfilia thigh high boots,” bc those are the EXACT boots I imagine on Y/N except in a darker brunette color to match the belt. Once again, NOT spell checked so my apologies for any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed pt. 1! And if this goes well, tell me if you’d like a pt. 2! I love to hear feedback! Thx <3