#I didn’t remember it being that cringey

[berryberrybeautiful]

Was not paying attention while watching Yugioh GX and completely forgot about Jesse’s accent so I just got whiplash from how quickly I looked up at my tv.

#I remember he had an accent #but for fucks sake #I didn’t remember it being that cringey #yugioh gx #jesse anderson

[elprupneerg]

Really fucking tired of seeing posts from during the height of the ace discourse still getting passed around on here

#allo people would make ‘cringey’ or outright bigoted posts pretending to be ace #and then they’d point to that shit and be like see! this is why ace people are horrible! they try to force their sexuality onto…. #nicki minaj or claim that hitler was an ace icon!!!1!1’ when really it was aphobes being stupid #those are the 2 big ones I remember seeing but there were a bunch of posts trying to claim serial killers were ace icons. #all of them were from troll blogs #this probably also happened with aro people but I didn’t see it as much #partly because people were ignoring aro people even exist so like. hard for trolls to attack us I guess

[viviaj]

a man who just wants you and needs you and would do anything for you (gone sexual)

// this is a self-insert.. it can be abt anyone u want ;3 !! but if u need some help: atsumu, kaeya, zoro, wriothesely, shoyo.. literally anyone that’s funny but also ;) KUROO

he’s been making you laugh all night. lighthearted conversation not slowing down, and countless attempts at getting you to roll your eyes at him. he looks good, too, like, casual good. black sweats and freshly washed hair.

he’s sitting on your bed, feet flat on the floor looking up at you as you go about your business. he’s a strange guy, he says something unfunny, yet its hard to not laugh. its cringey and genuinely stupid, yet comforting all the same.

you’ve been parading some new clothes on for yourself, styling pieces for him to nod and approve at. the way you move around is everything to him. he could just watch you, permanently. he wouldn’t need his phone, or a book or a computer. just you.

and that has him hard in his pants. just watching you do your thing, your glow from previously being out, with friends and at the shops— it didn’t matter.

“hey,”

“yeah?” you cheerily turn toward him, eager to keep conversation alive.

“come here,” his smile has you complicit, walking over to him, “wanna sit?”

you look down.

eyes fluttering between how hard he is and his eyes— at how fast this all changed. he’s so pretty and you just want to nod and nod and nod to him, that you’d do anything with him.

“yes, i do. yeah, okay. i don’t wanna hurt you, though, so—”

“here,” he interrupts you, guiding your hips down, “yeah, just like that,” the genuine smile on his face gives you courage.

neither of you dare to move once you’re fully sat, no one shifting or grinding, just resting on each other.

“do you feel what you do to me?” he almost laughs in exasperation. everything he says is so genuine, “i’m hard just thinking about you.” the honesty hurts.

the man underneath you is everything. he’s so sincere now that he’s not trying to make you laugh, not trying to make you roll your eyes at the stupid things he says. he doesn’t have to work for your attention.

“can i move?” you whisper, his cock so painfully there. your eyes don’t move from his.

“yeah, just— shit,” he hisses, “fuck. slowly. just rock back and forth a little.”

and it’s so easy. it’s so easy and he’s looking right at you and he’s telling you how good it feels, and god, don’t you know how long he’s wanted this for?

“is this okay? i mean, does it feel good? am i doing—”

“perfect,” he reaches a hand up to the back of your head, “it’s perfect.” his large hand pulls your head down to his, face to face with what you’re doing, who you’re doing.

he looks down at your lips, breaking the unbreakable eye contact you’d had so far, and presses his lips against yours. your hips stutter here and there, unused to the motion, but desperate to keep it there.

“let me take care of you.”

you nod.

his hands are polite on your hips, firm in how he handles you. he slides himself to the head of the bed, patting right between his open legs.

“saved you a spot,” he grins. and you remember this is the same man from an hour ago. you roll your eyes, yet sit right there, your back pressed to his chest, “this okay?” he says with his hands so close to your waistband. you nod again.

“you’re very compliant with me.” he says, and there’s nothing— no words, that could justify that. because he’s right, “i almost expected you to laugh at me more.” his slender fingers dip beneath your clothes, and he’s kind of an asshole, but he’s touching you so nicely.

“oh,” you grab onto his wrist, “feels good,” he nods against your skin.

his other hand just wants to feel you. the outside of your neck, the crease in your elbow. the curve of your ear, the shape of your breasts.

it’s obsessive.

your head drops onto his shoulder, your eyes turning to meet his and you realise he’s been looking at you this whole time. you avert your eyes, a slight red brushing your cheeks.

he’s still looking at you with a slight smile on his face. “you shy?”

“a little,” you reply for integrity’s sake.

he absolutely beams.

all the while you can feel him right against your back. he’s right there. just playing with you, hooked on every whimper and moan and twitch he can get from you.

“i’ve been waiting so long for you, you have no idea.” his sincerity is overwhelming and so are his fingers.

you nod. because that’s all you can do. “another, another. please.” you pant towards him.

“another what? tell me what you want.” he’s smiling, you can feel it.

“finger. please. can i, please?” oh, he melts. your voice softening for him and your body tense against his cock, he feels like he’s going to cum in his pants. he might.

“of course. whatever you want.” his free hand glides against your jaw, fingers grazing the side of your neck. he needs to kiss it, and bite it and leave something there. maybe as proof that this is real, that he has you how he wants you. feeling good.

so he does, he laps at your neck slowly. his fingers don’t stop fingering you, but he raises his thumb to rub at you. and that has you really going. twitching back into him, jumpy moans and sweet noises coming from you, uncontrollably it seems. your hand goes to cover your mouth.

“don’t ruin a good thing, baby. move your hand. let me hear you.”

“it’s embarrassing,” you stutter out.

he grins again, teeth grazing your neck. “i know. it’s okay.”

and it’s when you cum, with hips bucking and hand gripped onto his wrist, that he doesn’t stop.

tears well up in your eyes, “i came. i came, i came,” you chant, maybe he didn’t notice, maybe he didn’t realise.

“i know.” there’s no emotion in his voice, he’s so concentrated, so invested in what he can get out of you. what sounds, what actions, the way you move. it’s like he’s on a timer, he only has so much of it with you and he needs to milk it to its fullest.

“it’s sensitive, please. it’s too much,” tears well up in your eyes.

“you gonna cry?”

you nod against him.

“i’m sorry,” he presses his lips to where he’s bitten your neck, “brave girl. tough it out.”

what he says leaves you with no choice. something clicks in your head and you nod over and over again.

you whine and cry, blubbering words and sentences that don’t make sense. sensing that you’re going to cum again, you push against his fingers.

“don’t. stay still.”

“i can’t,” you whine, “i can’t again.”

“you can.” he smiles. he smiles and smiles and all you can do is twitch and cry out.

and when you cum for him again, pleasure overwhelming every part of you, he flips you onto your back, strong hands gently laying you back.

“my turn,” his grin melts as he presses the head of his cock into you. he preens at the feeling of you hugging him, “oh fuck. feels perfect. you’re perfect.”

your eyes scrunch closed, blubbering like someone who’s forgotten speech.

he’s sliding in and out of you, wanting to feel every single centimetre of himself in you. it’s heaven and he can’t believe that this will have to end.

your head starts to hit the soft headboard, tears still pilled up from the overstimulation on your body.

and then it just stops. he pulls out of you.

“back to you baby,” his hands slide against you once more, and you know it’s going to end with you sobbing against him.

a fun night.

#you guys would crucify me if i told you who inspired this #NO TRIGGER WARNINGS WOW!!!! #the most kindest thing i’ve ever written. i think i jusy want to feel loved #sorry i’ll go back to hardcore stuff later i just need to get this out of my system #service dom #yum #genshin men #genshin smut #praise #praise k!nk #you would make me delete my page if i told you who this was based on #I DONT KNOW HOW TO TAG #haikyuu men #haikyuu smut #kaeya smut #atsumu smut #tw overstim #overstim kink #OVERSTIM #HE BEAMS BC U R HAPPY he is the man of all time

[perotovar]

baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 1) "session one"

gif by me

pairing: joel miller/dieter bravo (just this time. main pairing is still javi/joel) rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 3.5k content: swearing, joel and tommy's southern accents being cute af, dieter being a menace, joel being awkward af (but it's cute), cringey porn dialogue, male masturbation (briefly), one (1) handjob, one (1) blowjob (it's messy), lmk if i missed anything! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry (ily ♥)

summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where most of the ppcu boys are gay porn stars~

(read this first ->) prologue | series masterlist

Joel never would have guessed he’d do something like this ten years ago. Hell, not even five years ago. He’s not even totally sure how he got here, if he’s honest with himself.

He just remembers an, admittedly shady, business-looking man coming up to him and shoving a business card in his face. He asked if Joel had ever slept with men before. Joel was taken aback and thought he was coming onto him in a really bizarre way. He had, but that was none of this man’s business as far as he was concerned.

“There’s no pressure, I promise. Here, my website is on the card. If you see what you like, you gimme a call, okay?” The man had winked, grabbed his coffee, and left. 

Joel was left sitting in the middle of that coffee shop stunned into silence.

Later that night, sitting in front of the laptop Sarah nearly forced on him, he clumsily typed (using only his index fingers) the name of the website from the business card into the search bar.

Love Bites

The name and the man, Max Phillips according to the card, and his invasive question should’ve told him everything he needed to know, but Joel wasn’t prepared for the absolute onslaught of nudity he was met with.

“Jesus–” Joel mumbled to himself, slamming the laptop closed. Not that that would take it away, but he could hope. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head to himself. “The fuck you get yourself into, Miller?” He grumbled.

Slowly, and with one eye closed, he opened his laptop again. Once he got both eyes on it again, the website wasn’t… too bad. Well, it was still a porn site, but it wasn’t anything he hadn't seen before. He started looking around some more and didn’t bother turning it down. He lived alone now, both girls having moved out within the last year or so. He missed the hell out of them, and frankly, found himself bored more often than not. He and Tommy still owned Miller Contracting, but Joel stuck to the delegating and organizing part now. He had too many knee and back problems to keep up on the actual building part.

His finger rolled over to the “profiles” section of the website. He raised a brow and clicked on the trackpad hesitantly. There were several headshots of the men that made content for the website. He felt his cock twitch in his jeans and cleared his throat awkwardly, exhaling heavily. Well, it… had been a while. What could it hurt, right? 

He did have a lot of options…

Dark eyes trailing over the men on the site, he smiled softly. They all had little biographies that explained what their sexualities and preferences were. He snorted a little at seeing two different cowboys; one gay and a little older than himself, the other bisexual and perhaps around the same age. The younger cowboy had a prominent mustache and had a preference for “tying people up”. Bit on the nose in Joel’s opinion, but there was something for everyone. The older cowboy tended toward more amateur-style, “romantic” videos. Joel’s heart softened a little, but decided he wasn’t really in the mood for that sort of thing. 

In his search, he found just about everything; a messy haired, self proclaimed “adventurous” sort, a masked man that liked to roleplay, a clean cut looking man that considered himself a “romantic”. You name it, they probably had it. But his eyes landed on a particular man…

He had deep, intense eyes and a thick mustache. His hair was styled like he walked out of the 80s and he was wearing a thin gold chain. He had a bit of a Burt Reynolds thing going on, and normally that wouldn’t be something Joel was into, but this time, well… 

Joel clicked on his – Javier’s – page and started browsing the videos he had available. His bio said he was “fluid and polyamorous”, but Joel didn’t know what that meant. Wow, he was… popular. That didn’t surprise Joel at all, but his eyes landed on one of Javier’s “solo” videos. It looked like it was filmed in his apartment, but it probably wasn’t from how well lit it was. The video started off like Joel guessed all of them did; a fancy graphic with the words “Love Bites” in the center of the screen before the sound effect of someone taking a bite out of something, and a faint moan. The tips of Joel’s ears warmed, but he pressed on, watching Javier walk onto screen and sit in the middle of the couch that was in frame. 

Javier’s jeans were very tight, but maybe even moreso because of how fucking hard he looked to be. Joel swallowed a lump in his throat, his cock twitching again. Javier had an easy smirk on his handsome face, but he seemed like he didn’t have the cockiness that Joel expected a pornstar to have. The video seemed like it was personally sent to Joel and that thought made Joel’s cock stand to attention almost comically quickly. Unzipping his own jeans, he groaned at the constriction leaving, allowing him to breathe easier. He squeezed his cock and looked back at the video, Javier already getting started without him. He was stroking his own cock slowly, almost teasingly, biting a plump bottom lip. Joel moaned and shut his eyes for a quick second as he took himself in hand–

Ring, ring.

Joel groaned, squeezing his cock harder, and dug his phone out of his pocket. Tommy. He sighed and paused the video on Javier’s blissed out face and big hand wrapped around his–

Ring, ring.

“Christ, Tommy, what is it?” He grumbled, pressing the too-new-for-his-liking phone to his ear.

“Jesus, who pissed in your oatmeal this mornin’?” Tommy’s easy voice filtered in, a chuckle wrapped around his words. “And why are ya outta breath? Ya okay?”

“What–? Yeah, ‘m fine, Tommy. Why y’callin’?”

“Wonderin’ if ya could stop by tonight. Maria’s makin’ meatloaf and I know ya like it.”

Joel did really like Maria’s meatloaf. He sighed to himself and shut his laptop, his cock having softened considerably since hearing his brother’s voice. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, trying to subtly zip up his jeans while he held the phone against his shoulder. “I’ll come over in a little bit, just gotta… gonna make a phone call.”

“Ooh, ya finally have a date, old man?”

“Can it,” Joel grunted. “‘M forty-three. Ain’t that old. And no, I was gonna call Sarah. See how her classes are goin’.”

“Send her our love, will ya? ‘N tell her she’ll have a cousin soon. Maria’s ‘bout to pop any day. ‘M scared to death,” Tommy sighed. The happiness was clear in his voice, though. Joel was happy for him, and smiled to himself. “How’s Ellie doin’, by the way?”

“Good. Think she said somethin’ ‘bout joinin’ a… roller derby team? Don’t rightly know, but,” he shrugged to himself. “Sounded like somethin’ she’d like, way she was describin’ it.”

Talking on the phone with Tommy always went the same way. He’d find a way to chew up a couple hours of your time, but Joel never minded. Once they said their goodbyes and their I-love-yous, Joel picked up Max Phillips’ business card and sighed, rubbing his thumb over the phone number.

What could it hurt, right?

That was two years ago. He’s been working for Love Bites for two years and had been avoiding Javier Peña as much as he could.

Joel’s never been good at… initiating conversations. Ellie would always give him shit for it. She usually went up to whoever had caught Joel’s eye and slyly made it her goal to get them to come over to him. 

But Ellie wasn’t here and she never would be. His girls knew what he did and even if they were a little concerned for him at first, they saw how much happier he’d been since joining. He was healthier, gaining a bit of “chub” as Sarah called it, and a healthier glow to his skin. He was on camera more often now, so he had to eat well and work out a little more. He didn’t do anything too crazy, and the audience that watched his videos had a lot of positive opinions and comments about his physique. It made him blush to think about it for too long, so he tried not to.

What was he saying?

Oh, right. Avoiding Javier Peña.

He’d had a huge crush on him ever since that first video he watched, and frankly, didn’t want to make a fool of himself if he talked to him. He’s filmed one video with him and it was the best Joel had felt in years. He almost came too quickly, and the video was supposed to be twenty minutes long. They had to pause so Joel could calm himself down, but Javier was patient and lovely with him. Javier had been doing this a lot longer than Joel had, so he wasn’t worried, which made Joel feel better. Just a little embarrassed. Afterwards, he had to leave, making up a story about seeing his girls for dinner that night.

“Javi!”

Joel’s eyes snapped up from his phone. He was in the middle of texting Sarah, saying that he’d call her when he got home from work. He had a scene with Dieter today.

And there he was. God. Joel’s cheeks flushed at the sight of Javier standing in the hall in his robe. He must’ve just finished his scene with Shane, the new kid. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the sound of Javier’s deep, commanding voice was enough to send a chill down Joel’s spine. Before he knew it, Javier was talking animatedly with Steve, another actor, as they walked off down the hall and disappearing around a corner.

He knew, realistically, relationships between porn actors could happen. Silva and Jake had been together for years. Joel’s problem with that was, well… Joel. His last real relationship was with Sarah’s mom years ago, and when the girls were in high school he had a relationship with this guy, Ezra for a while.

Smack!

“Jesus–!” Joel jumped, holding onto one of his ass cheeks protectively. Only one person would have done that.

“Hey, handsome,” Dieter grinned, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Joel’s jeans and squeezing. “Getting lost in Javi’s eyes again?” He winked.

“N-no! I am not,” Joel grumbled, finishing off his text and shoving his phone in his pocket.

Dieter snorted and rolled his eyes, then removed his hand to hold it out for Joel to take. “C’mon, big guy. You get to cum on my face today,” he smirked.

Filming with Dieter always felt good. He was a bit wild for Joel’s personal tastes, but he always made sure Joel was comfortable, and today was no different. 

Joel was playing a “plumber” that needed to work on Dieter’s “pipes”. This of course led to Dieter offering to “pay” in his own way. 

“Oh, come on, big guy like you doesn’t need money, right?” Dieter recited his lines expertly, running a hand down Joel’s t-shirt covered chest. “Bet it gets lonely doing this sort of work, huh?”

Joel had gotten a lot better at the acting part of things over the past couple of years. He was super stiff (and not in the right way) in the beginning, but now, he easily plastered on a smirk, eyes glued to Dieter’s lips. “Sometimes,” he shrugged, a big hand hovering over Dieter’s shoulder. Dieter saw the hand out of the corner of his eye and grinned, curling his fingers around Joel’s thick wrist and moving it down to his ass.

Joel smirked, squeezing the plump flesh appreciatively. “Bit forward o’ you,” he rumbled.

Dieter visibly shivered and bit his lip. “Sexy guy like you, of course I am,” he breathed. He leaned forward and kissed Joel messily, the hand on Joel’s torso moving down to unzip his jeans. Joel was already painfully hard and grunted into Dieter’s mouth when his pants were opened and lowered enough to pull his cock free. Dieter moaned and curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft, pumping rhythmically.

They stayed like that for a while; open mouth kisses, heavy breathing from Joel, and Dieter’s moans being picked up by the mics. 

Dieter pulled away to look down at the thick cock in his hand and bit his lip at the sight. “Fuck,” he groaned, his own cock twitching in his sweats. “Can I suck your cock?” He looked up at Joel demurely, eyes big and nearly black with desire.

Joel forgot he was supposed to be acting for a minute and grunted, hips bucking into Dieter’s grasp. “F-fuck, yeah,” he nodded, eyes glazed over. Dieter smiled and guided Joel over to the couch on the set. Technically, Dieter was supposed to get on his knees in the “kitchen”, but he knew Joel wouldn’t be able to stand for that long with his back problems. Sometimes Dieter’s improv classes came in handy. Max couldn’t complain too much, as long as Dieter sucked Joel off, then the video was still following the script.

Joel grunted as he sat, hard cock swaying slightly. Dieter giggled a little and happily got down on his knees, hands traveling up and down Joel’s thighs appreciatively. “Such a pretty cock,” he hummed, licking his lips as he watched it twitch in front of him, a drop of pre-cum gathering at the tip. 

“Why dontcha put that mouth to use, then?” Joel smirked, gripping the base and tapping the head against Dieter’s cheek. “Want your discount, right?”

Dieter smiled and opened his mouth wide, eyes shut in pure bliss. Joel gripped Dieter’s messy curls and held him still as he hit the head of his cock against Dieter’s tongue. Dieter moaned and opened his eyes, watching Joel’s face for any cues to stop. They never came, but it was something they all had to keep an eye on. When everything seemed to be going well, he happily wrapped his mouth around the head of Joel’s cock and started bobbing his head up and down.

He moaned, the vibrations traveling down Joel’s cock and up his spine, making Joel groan in return. “Mmm, knew you’d be good with your mouth,” he grinned, holding the back of Dieter’s head to set a pace Joel liked better.

Dieter heard a cameraman move to his right to get a better angle of his mouth, so he amped it up a little. He got messier, saliva dripping down along the sides of Joel’s shaft. Joel moaned weakly, resting his head on the back of the couch, but keeping one of his hands tangled in Dieter’s messy curls. Dieter started bobbing his head slower, eyes locked on Joel’s face as he moved further down his shaft, taking as much as he could down his throat. He choked slightly and pulled off, pre-cum and saliva covering his mouth and Joel’s cock. He smiled up at Joel and panted heavily, curling his fingers around the base to pump the thick cock.

Joel’s eyes rolled back and he grunted, hips bucking off the couch. “C’mere,” he breathed, heavy work boots landing heavily on the set floor as he stood. “Gonna fuck your face.”

Dieter shivered at the low timbre of Joel’s voice and nodded happily up at him. He pulled his sweats down and gripped his own cock in hand and started stroking himself rhythmically. Dieter opened his mouth for Joel obediently and nearly choked again when Joel shoved his cock down Dieter’s throat. He moaned weakly when Joel’s hips started moving, his heavy balls slapping against Dieter’s chin.

Dieter just had to take it, the lewd sounds of Joel fucking his face filling the otherwise quiet room. He fucking loved it because Joel was subtly massaging Dieter’s scalp and it sent shivers down his spine. His fist was almost a blur over his own cock and tears leaked out of his eyes, a blush high on his cheeks.

“Mmm, bein’ such a good boy f’me,” Joel grunted, biting his lip to rein it in a little. Dieter moaned at the praise, eyebrows downturned in pleasure. “Yeah? Like bein’ my good boy?”

Dieter whined and nodded as best he could, eyes completely glazed over. Joel slowed down his hips a little and let Dieter breathe for a minute. Dieter panted hard, a near-dopey smile on his face. “Come on my face,” he breathed heavily, extending his tongue for Joel. “Please.”

It was Joel’s turn to shiver as he slapped the head of his cock against Dieter’s face again. “Gonna have to earn it,” Joel smirked, reciting his lines as well as he could. 

Dieter whined and pouted up at him, his own hand slowing down a little. He didn’t say anything, letting Joel continue.

“Make me come, and I’ll paint this pretty face o’ yours.”

Dieter’s face lit up and he curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft. He watched Joel’s face while he wrapped his lips around the head and bobbed his head. His free hand held Joel’s hip and subtly moved to his ass and squeezed. He moaned around Joel’s cock and shut his eyes briefly before obediently looking up at him, big eyes wet and innocent. 

“Atta boy,” Joel grunted, cupping Dieter’s face lovingly. Dieter removed his mouth to kiss down his length as he stroked him, attaching his lips to one of Joel’s balls. “Mmm, fuck,” Joel breathed, tipping his head back. 

The hand on Joel’s ass moved slightly until one of Dieter’s fingertips prodded at Joel’s asshole. Joel grunted in surprise and smiled down at Dieter. “Really want me all over ya, huh?”

“Yes,” Dieter nodded, sucking one of Joel’s balls into his mouth. “Please.”

“Keep talkin’ like that and– ooh, fuck – Jus’ might get your wish,” Joel panted, shutting his eyes. He felt the build up in his lower stomach, his cock twitching violently in Dieter’s hand. “C’mere, baby boy,” he grinned, taking his cock back to stroke himself over Dieter’s face.

Dieter was buzzing, lifting Joel’s t-shirt to lovingly caress his hairy tummy, mouth open wide and obedient. 

Joel felt his balls draw up and his hips buck until– “Fuck–! Shit,” He moaned, thick ropes of come spurting out from the tip of his cock and landing on Dieter’s face and mouth. He caressed Dieter’s hair, thick fingers massaging his scalp while the other hand stroked himself until his balls were completely empty. 

Dieter happily licked his mouth clean, and hid his face in Joel’s stomach, whimpering into the sweaty skin. He moaned weakly, his entire body trembling as he came, completely untouched. Dieter was the only one in the cast that could do that, and he loved showing it off as much as he could.

“Shit,” Joel smiled, petting Dieter’s sweaty curls back and out of his face. “Ain’t you a sight.”

“Cut!”

Dieter deflated, a huge grin on his face. He started giggling into Joel’s stomach and smiled up at him. “Fucking love your cock, Joel,” he hummed happily.

“That’s what you always say,” Joel snorted, helping him up onto his feet. Dieter was a little wobbly still and cuddled into Joel’s side. He always got a little clingy after a scene, but Joel didn’t mind. As different as they were, Joel would probably consider Dieter one of his closest friends. It always worked in their favor, their natural chemistry and closeness coming through the cameras.

They were handed a couple towels and some water, the both of them taking them gratefully. Max came up to them, his usual shit-eating grin on his face. Joel always thought Max reminded him of a vampire, with that mischievous glint in his eye that always seemed to be there.

“Great show, boys,” Max started. “Dieter, d’you mind if I steal Joel away for a second?”

Dieter whined and clinged onto Joel tighter. Joel grinned and hugged him back. “Sorry, boss, looks like he ain’t leavin’ anytime soon.”

Max rolled his eyes, but continued anyway. “Fine. Meant to tell you earlier, but things got rolling, you know how it is–”

“What is it, Max?”

“You’ve got a scene with Javier tomorrow.”

If there were a record player anywhere, Joel would probably hear it scratching right about now. Dieter paused too, and looked up at Joel with worried eyes. He knew all about Joel’s crush, and was always telling Joel to just go for it. Joel froze briefly, but tried to school his emotions as best he could.

“O-okay, um. What time?” He asked shakily, gripping Dieter’s fluffy robe tighter.

“I’m thinking around noon? That way Javier can prepare, y’know?”

Preparing was always done before a particularly intense scene. Joel tried really hard not to think about Javier wearing a plug for a while before coming to set. 

“Right,” Joel nodded, cheeks going a little pink. “I’ll be there.”

“You’re the best, Joel!” Max snapped his fingers and walked off, talking to a couple of assistants. 

Dieter tapped on his chest and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You really gotta say something, Joel,” he said softly. 

Joel sighed and nodded. He knew that. 

He just didn’t know what.

#joel miller #dieter bravo #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller series #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo series #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu fanfiction #oaksfics

[heeverseblog]

this time

synopsis: you confessed to jake sim in your senior year of high school but got rejected. now you’re a single mom in need of a math tutor to help your daughter pass math class. you happen to stumble upon jake’s profile and end up hiring him.

pairing: math tutor!jake x single mom!reader

genre: childhood acquaintances to lovers, single parent au, fluff, little bit of angst but happy ending

warnings: unrequited love (only at the beginning), mentions of early pregnancy, abandonment, fear of being in a relationship, one suggestive scene, short argument about career

word count: 11,359 words

note: THIS WHOLE STORY IS RUSHED AND NOT HEAVILY PROOFREAD, SORRY :((((

the first day you saw jake sim was at your school’s library. you were reading “anne of green gables” while he was reading a physics textbook. a freakin’ physics textbook. who reads a physics textbook at eight years old? apparently, jake sim does.

he looked so invested in reading formulas and his glasses were thick black-framed ones. you thought it was cute when he was sticking his tongue out as he was reading probably some formulas and terms. you forgot about gilbert blythe because that day, jake sim became number one in your “the cutest boys i’ve ever seen” list.

word was sent out that you had a huge, massive crush on jake sim. who wouldn’t know when you shout his name every time he passes by your way? you’d give him love notes saying how cute he looked with his glasses and how he has the cutest smile. every cringey, embarrassing thing a girl can do and call her crush just for him to notice her. yes, you’ve done it all.

when you became a teenager, you think that what you feel towards jake is more than just a crush. the longer you got to know him, the more you got to see how kind he was. when everyone was having a hard time understanding math, he’d write on the blackboard formulas and explaining when and where to use them. when a kid fell on his bike, he cleaned the wound and carried him to the school clinic, even when he was tired and sweaty from soccer practice.

one time, you were bored at math class. so you doodled the soccer field from your window. then your math teacher slams his hands on your table and proceeds to humiliate you on your artistic dreams. your colored pencils were confiscated and as shallow as it may be, you felt like a part of you was taken away after being humiliated.

while it was lunch time, jake came out of your classroom going with his friends, sunghoon and jay. you were still sad about what happened a while ago. when you sat down, you were surprised when you colored pencils were placed under your desk. you remember jake coming out of the classroom. you smile, realizing that you liked jake sim.

every girl fell on line in talking to jake sim. but you always made sure you were first. rumors spread that jake had a crush on the transfer student, kazuha. the rumors were confirmed when he asked her to the school dance. they danced that night but nothing bloomed. you noticed jake looked a little sulky the following week. and you thought that simply making him laugh like making funny faces or giving him cookies will make him feel better. and he did. jake was never mean to you. he still treats you kindly like everyone else. and you were fine with that. but you wanted to step your game.

a few weeks left and you will be graduating high school. so you wanted to confess to jake properly. you drew a banner with your confession, “jake sim, will you accept me?” you remember setting up the art room with lights. your art teacher was kind enough to allow you, knowing that you were her favorite student.

“jake sim, i’ve liked you since the day you were reading that textbook in the library. i’ve always liked you and it took me years to properly confess how I truly feel . so… you held out the flowers to him, “will you accept me?”

you felt like crying saying your confession. but you didn’t care. you gave him the peonies from your mother’s flower shop. when you thought will reach for the flowers, he held hands and slowly pulled them down. your face went down along with your hands.

“y/n, i appreciate what you have done…but,” jake looked down at the floor, “i don’t like you like that.”

you’d be lying to yourself when you say you’re not hurt. you tried your best not to blink or else the tears will come out of your eyes.

“oh. um…thank you for being honest.” you gave him a forced smile, feeling your eyes well up. on cue, the school bell rings, signaling it’s time for all students to get out of the building.

“i’ll see you tomorrow?”

jake nods, “see you tomorrow.”

you gave him a pat in the back before turning of the lights then ran out of the art room. you let the tears run down your face as the petals from the peonies fell, leaving a trail on the floor.

after a week, you received your high school diploma and off you to college you go. you and your friends took pictures together and you thought that it would be nice to walk around your school for one last time. from the classrooms, to the playgrounds, to the soccer fields. then you took one last glance at the art room, recalling the day you experienced your first heartbreak.

when you went back to your parents, they gave you a tight hug before giving you a bouquet. then you catch a glimpse of jake with his family. like yours, his parents were proud of him for finishing top of his class. your heart might have swelled a little but before you could feel it more, your dad said he’d take you and your mom out to dinner.

jake sim might not like you back but you were sure that he will be a good memory you can look back to.

“i’m sorry, mom.” your seven-year-old daughter tells you as both of you walked out of her classroom. apparently, she wasn’t the best at math class and her homeroom teacher was beginning to worry. but who were you to be disappointed when you were never the best at math either.

you kneel down, holding your daughter’s shoulders, “aera, we’re going to hire someone to help you, alright?”

aera pouts while nodding her head. you held her cheek, “sweetie, it’ll be alright. hm?” your daughter slowly nods her head then both of you went home.

you’re in an app searching for math tutors that look friendly but will help your daughter excel in class. it’s been an hour and you still haven’t found the right one.

“mommy, what’s for dinner?” aera says as she colors in her coloring book.

“we’re having spaghetti tonight, sweetie.” aera just nods her head and goes back to coloring. when you returned your attention to your phone, a familiar name popped up.

sim jaeyun: part-time physics teacher, part-time math tutor

sim jaeyun or known as jake sim when you were just a girl living in a small town. he was the boy you’ve had a huge crush on ever since you were eight years old. because of your silly crush on him, you confessed to him a week before your high school graduation. but he didn’t like you that way.

admit it or not, jake is a strong candidate. aside from attending the same school as kids, jake was best in math and physics and had a good reputation for being a math wizard.

unconsciously, you tapped the hello! are you available for a meet-up? option.

“shit!” you stand up from the couch.

“mom, that’s a bad word,” aera says while coloring her coloring book at the dinning table.

“you’re right, sweetie. mommy is sorry.” you say and kneeled to reach your daughter’s height. you smile, thinking that your daughter takes after you in her interest in drawing and coloring. she’d always ask you for coloring books, sometimes crayons if her old ones kept breaking. then one time you gave her the 64 crayons that you’ve always wanted as a kid.

“mommy, look!” aera colored the tiger pink.

“that’s wonderful, baby!” aera goes back into coloring while you prepare your dinner.

while you were cooking your spaghetti, your phone beeps and you received a message.

hello there! may i know who i’ll be tutoring?

you reply, it’s my seven-year-old daughter. she needs help in math.

jake: oh i see. may i know who i am speaking with?

you take a deep breath and typed your full name.

jake: y/n? did we go to the same school together?

y/n: yup! same school since 2nd grade to high school.

jake: oh wow! how are you doing?

y/n: i’m doing well right now.

jake: that’s good to hear!

jake: about your daughter, where exactly does she need help in math?

y/n: if it’s not too much to ask, she needs help in everything.

jake: oh no problem! are you available to meet-up?

y/n: sure! will send you the details soon.

jake: great! looking forward to meeting you.

y/n: looking forward to meeting you too.

“oh no!”

you immediately put your phone down and got the pot away from the stove with smoke coming out of it.

you told jake to meet you at this café that is somewhat near where you lived and where jake is residing. it’s been long since you last saw jake and your last encounter with him was at the art room with a banner and lights where you confessed. then he rejected you.

you were holding tight on your cup of coffee. after you told jake where you were seated, you were expecting to meet him anytime soon. and that thought made you more nervous.

“y/n?”

your organs did somersaults when you hear his familiar voice. and when you turn around, you were also greeted with a familiar face.

“j-jake. hi.”

jake still wore glasses. difference is that they were no longer thick black-framed ones but specs. aside from that, he did not change much. he still looked as gentle like before.

“sorry to keep you waiting. one of my students needed help.”

“no worries. please, take a seat.”

jake sits at the seat across you. he places his bag on the floor then he returns his gaze at you.

“sorry i didn’t order anything for you yet. i didn’t know what you liked.”

“it’s okay. so, your daughter needs help?”

“yeah, aera, she…she has trouble understanding problem-solving equations. has a hard time memorizing the multiplication table too, apparently.”

some part of you felt awkward that your daughter got her weakness in math from you. and jake knew that.

“do you have any worksheets from her class?”

“oh, yes,” you bring out the sheets if paper from your bag and gave it to jake. he reviews the papers and you felt déjà vu, remembering the day you first saw him in the library while reading a physics textbook.

“i see the problem here. she mixes the formulas and interchanges them.”

“is she…does she need extreme hands on help?”

“i can’t say yet but if i tutor her soon, i'll let you know the progress.”

“thank you…” you pause, not knowing to call him mr. sim, teacher sim, or just by his name.

“sorry,” you let out an awkward laugh, “i just don’t know how to address you?”

“jake is fine. i mean we went to the same school.”

“okay. thank you, jake.”

“thank you, too. y/n.” then jake gets his bag.

“you’re leaving?”

“yeah, i have to do some tasks first. but let me know when i can tutor her.”

“sure thing. see you soon?”

jake nods, “see you soon.” then he leaves the café.

you and jake agreed that he will tutor aera from 2 pm to 5 pm every thursday and friday. at first, aera is shy to meet a new person but you assured her that her new tutor is a friend of yours. and she promised that she will behave.

the doorbell rang and as you expected, jake was outside.

“hi.”

“hi. i hope i’m not too early.”

“oh, no. you came just in time. come on in.”

when you let jake in your unit, you told him to wait by the living room while you call aera by her bedroom.

“sweetie, your tutor is here. come and say hi.”

when aera came out of her room, her shyness aent away.

“aera, this is jake. he’s going to tutor you at math. say hi, sweetie.”

“hello!” aera waves to jake to which he found adorable and softly giggles.

“it’s nice to meet you, aera.”

“mommy says you’re her friend. i call aunt yujin and aunt gaeul aunties because they’re mommy’s friends. can i call you uncle jake?”

“aera…”

“uncle jake sounds nice.” jake said with a smile on his face.

“do you want us to start, aera?” jake asks and aera nods before pulling jake to the dining table.

before jake and aera started their tutor session, you asked permission from jake if you can stay by your room with the door open. and he was kind enough to understand that you were careful with aera.

surprisingly, jake and aera got along well. aera had a hard time understanding the formulas and comprehending problems but jake was very patient with her. you always knew that jake would be a great teacher but you never knew that day will actually come true.

“okay, so when you add 4 and 7, you’ll be transferring the other one here, to 6. so it becomes 7. then you add 7 and 2. and what’s the answer?”

“91?”

“good job, aera!” then jake did a high five to aera before circling the worksheet with his red pen.

“uncle jake, can you be my math teacher instead? you’re nicer than mrs. im.”

“did you know that mrs. im was also my math teacher. your mom and i were her students.”

“it means that she’s old! no wonder why she’s so grumpy.”

“aera, what did we say about bad mouthing people?” you say from the kitchen as you start preparing your dinner.

“it’s not going to make us different from them.”

“that’s right.”

jake softly laughed at your statement, “okay, aera. that’s all for today. if you still need help next time, we can always go back. but try studying on your own too, okay?”

“okay, uncle jake!”

jake starts packing his things then you and aera see him out.

“uncle jake, thank you for teaching me today. you’re so nice and i had fun.”

“you’re welcome, aera.”

aera looks up at you, “mommy, say thank you, too.”

you rub aera’s shoulders, “yes, ma’am,” then faced jake, “thank you for helping aera today. really.”

“you’re welcome,” jake looks down at aera, “i’ll see you tomorrow, okay kiddo?”

“see you tomorrow, uncle jake!” aera waves and jake gives her a smile before he leaves.

months have passed since jake tutored aera. the process wasn’t easy at first since aera is really having a hard time understanding math. but as jake promised, he updated you that aera is still in need of help to improve. and you were grateful that he was patient with her, despite being exhausted from being a teacher at school.

most days, aera was excited for her tutoring sessions. she even boasts how she has a good tutor and jake’s her favorite teacher slash uncle. and you have to admit, it was cute.

today, you were busy finishing an illustration for a children’s book. most of the time, you sell your works online or have clients contact you for commissions. it wasn’t a stable job but you had to earn for you and your daughter. and thank god, your clients paid you well.

in the middle of working, you received a message from yujin, saying that there will be a class reunion at the town hall two months from now. you didn’t know if you’ll be able to go but you might if your friends are going.

yujin: so how’s the tutoring going on?

y/n: it’s going pretty well, actually. jake is really patient with aera and he always make sure that she understands what he’s teaching her

gaeul: you know…it’s not too late to re-live high schaer

y/n: eh???

yujin: she means to shoot your shot

y/n: very funny guys -_-

y/n: jake is just tutoring aera and he’s just doing his job

gaeul: 👀

yujin: if you say so 🤪

y/n: gotta get ready. i’ll be picking up aera in a bit and jake will be arriving after.

yujin: ooooh y/n is getting ready for her date.

y/n: OH PLEASE 😡

you roll your eyes before locking your phone and turning off your tablet.

when you were done getting dressed, the doorbell rang and when you opened it, you were surprised to see jake.

“hi, jake. i was just about to pick-up aera from school.”

jake scrunches his forehead then looks at his watch, “oh,” he lets out a laugh, “my class ended early and i might have thought i was late. i can come back later.”

“oh no, please. do you want to come with me and pick-up aera? she’ll be glad to see you.”

“sure.”

“great. let’s go.”

during the car ride, you and jake didn’t say a word. it was either you were busy watching the road or avoiding talking to him.

“so how have you been?”

“hm?”

“i mostly see you during tutoring sessions but we never really…'talked.’”

“oh, uh…well today was fine. i’m currently doing an illustration for a children’s book. not halfway done but I’m making progress. you?” you liked to jake before immediately returning your attention to the road.

“one of my students said that physics was useless and why do we need to study how fast a frisbee can travel.”

you try holding your laugh but jake caught you so you retort, “sorry it’s just that a kinda remember myself. and well, i couldn’t help my daughter in her math homework.”

it was silent again and all you could hear was the tires and the car engine.

“for what’s worth, aera is a good kid.”

you smile at jake’s comment and looked at him for a while, “thanks.”

“we’re here.”

“it’s been a while since i saw this place.”

you spot aera waiting at the waiting area and when she sees your car, she stands up and waits for you. and when you and jake got out of the car, she immediately runs to jake, hugging his leg.

“uncle jake, you’re here!”

jake giggles, “it’s good to see you too, kiddo.” then he rubs aera’s head like usual.

“don’t i get a hug?”

“mommy!” aera opens her arms and then you carry her. she gives you a kiss.

“let’s go home?” you asks and aera nods.

the three of you went to the car. aera was still happy that jake was with you to pick her up.

“uncle jake, can you come and pick me up next time?”

“aera, uncle jake has classes to teach. you can still see each other during tutoring sessions.”

aera pouts at what you said. jake looks back, “how about i bring you ice cream next week?”

aera smiles, “yes, please!”

“you might spoil her with too much sweets.” you nag.

“can it be mint chocolate, please?”

jake’s eyes grew wide then he looks at you and back at aera, “you really are your mother’s daughter.”

“hey mint chocolate deserves to be respected,” you defend.

“not when it tastes like toothbrush.”

“that’s mean!” you and aera say in unison.

throughout the whole ride, three of you were still bickering about mint chocolate being the superior ice cream flavor. you never thought that someone could actually get along with you and your daughter’s antics. and you liked it.

“i’m sorry for the overtime, jake. but don’t worry, i’ll increase today’s payment session.”

exams were coming and aera needed help in studying. you felt bad that you had to ask jake to stay for a while but you promised him that he’ll be compensated more than his usual pay.

“it’s alright. besides, aera needed help.”

“why don’t you stay for dinner? you might be hungry.”

“oh, no. i couldn’t.”

“no, really. it’s the least i can do for thanking you.”

“if you insist then,” jake places his bag down the chair, “dinner would be great.”

and dinner was going great. aera told jake herself that jake was her favorite teacher. and jake felt honored. aera kept telling stories of her school life and how she made friends. then aera tells how

“you know, your uncle jake helped everyone in math before. he’s a math wizard.”

“uncle jake, did you help mom math too?”

“i did. she got the 4th highest grade in our math exam.”

“and of course, your uncle jake got the highest grade.”

jake does this hand gesture where he says “oh please.”

“is my mom hard to teach?”

you and jake laughed, “well…let’s say you’re a fast learner than your mother.”

“mommy, i’m better at you in math!”

“i can’t believe you two are teaming up against me,” then you pretend to get shot at the heart and jake and aera laughed at your antics.

after dinner was done, aera became sleepy. she promised that she’ll finish her homework tomorrow. you let her sleep early because she looked exhausted.

“goodnight, uncle jake.” aera says then yawns.

“goodnight, kiddo. you did well today.” jake kneels down and aera hugs jake. you were surprised but jake returned the hug, the sight melted your heart.

“okay, sweetie. uncle jake has to go home and sleep too.” aera pulls away from the hug and then you tell her to get her clothes and take a shower.

“bye, uncle jake.” aera says before getting inside the bathroom.

when it was just you and jake alone, you looked into each other and laughed.

“aera will be sleeping well tonight.”

“yeah, looks like it.”

“hey,” you pause for a while, “thank you. for helping aera. she hasn’t been this happy for a while.”

“thank you for letting me stay.” for some reason, your heart fluttered, “for dinner.”

“oh,” then you let out a chuckle, “you’re welcome.”

you and jake let out another chuckle. and it might seem cringey but you didn’t care. because right now—this felt right. you looking to his eyes, and him doing the same. almost like you didn’t want him to leave.

“i, uh…” jake coughs, “i should probably go.”

“oh. yeah…right. drive safely.”

jake nods before he opens the door, saying goodbye before leaving.

when you closed the door, you let out a breath you realized you haven’t been holding. you’ve replayed how jake looked at you just a while ago. and every time you remembered his face, your heart would beat fast. when you remember him being a good friend to aera, you couldn’t help but melt at his gentleness towards your daughter.

“mommy?” aera walks out of the bathroom with a towel on her shoulders, “are you sick?”

“huh? oh. no, no sweetie.”

“your face is red.”

“it’s just hot sweetie. let’s tuck you to bed, okay?”

after tucking aera to bed, it was your turn to get ready for bed. and when you thought you’ll be able to sleep peacefully, days of jake bonding with your daughter flashed in your mind again. he hated mint chocolate but when he promised to bring a tub of it, he ate it with you and aera. he finished a cup of it and didn’t think of spitting it out or drinking water to cleanse his tongue. one time, when you gave him a glass of water, your fingers touched and you immediately pulled away.

you kept tossing and turning all night. it was like you were your old self, gushing over jake in the smallest things. though this time, you had a daughter. and jake treats her so well that you couldn’t help but smile and melt.

and you wore that smile until you slept peacefully at night.

lately, you’ve been having headaches while feeling muscle pains. when you took a temperature test, it showed that you had fever. you immediately called yujin, saying you needed help to take care of aera. you couldn’t ask your parents help because they have a store to take of at home. besides, you didn’t want them to take a bus all the way here to the city. you were just thankful that yujin was happy to babysit aera while you we sick and you said that you were fine with being alone for now. you told jake about your sickness and aera’s tutoring sessions will be cancelled for now. he hopes for you to get better soon.

“remember to listen to aunt yujin, alright?”

“mhm!”

“and you don’t keep her waiting when she comes to fetch you.”

“yes, mommy!”

“don’t forget to finish your homework, alright? especially math.”

“yes, mommy!” you smile at your daughter then shift your attention to yujin, “thank you for doing this.”

“aera and i will have a good time, don’t worry,” yujin soothes aera’s head.

“i’m going to miss you, sweetie.” sadly, you couldn’t kiss aera goodbye.

“i’m going to miss you too, mommy!”

“okay sweetie, you’re going be late for school.”

aera and yujin say their goodbyes and you were left alone in your home. you lied down on your bed, with a glass of water beside you. you wrapped yourself in your blanket, hoping that it’ll stop you from shivering.

hours have passed and what you’ve been doing is eating, cleaning the used dishes, drinking medicine, and sleeping. you couldn’t wait to get better but you still felt sick and weak.

you were covered in your blanket when your doorbell rang. you wondered if it was yujin but she must be at home this hour, watching over aera.

you wore your mask before getting the door. when you opened it, you were surprised to see jake holding a stainless-steel lunchbox.

“oh, jake. hi.”

“i, uh…i made us some dinner. i made you soup.” jake raises the lunchbox, “i just thought you needed something to warm you up.”

you couldn’t help but melt at jake’s words. he really has this talent of turning small things into something big. and it made your heart flutter.

“come on in.” you opened the door for jake and let him in like always.

“i’ll just get us some plates.” then jake holds your shoulder, “i’ll do it. you can lie down and rest.”

you nod, “okay.” you were about to enter your room but you turn around, “plates and bowls are in the upper right cabinet.”

“got it.”

“and the spoons—” then jake shows you that he found the utensils on the other side of the cabinet.

“i’ll…” you point to your room and jake assures you that he’s got it covered.

you never let anyone in your home aside from your friends and parents. yujin and gaeul have always been pestering you to go on blind dates but you never did. letting someone else in your life was making you a little doubtful. but you were glad that jake is someone you knew and looks trustworthy.

“hey,” jake enters with a tray of the food he brought. you sit up then jake places the tray in front of you.

“what’s tonight’s main course?”

“well, we have ramyeon with ham, boiled eggs, and green onions.”

“sounds delicious.”

“here,” jake scoops some soup and gently blows it before bringing the spoon close to your mouth. you take the soup in your mouth and you smile, “that’s good soup. give my compliments to the chef.”

jake softly laughs, “will do.”

and jake proceeds to feed you the noodles and other toppings. you felt shy every time you couldn’t take the food in your mouth, especially if they were noodles. but jake didn’t judged you. when you were almost done, you drank the remaining soup left.

“you good?”

you nod, “mhm! thanks for the food. how about you?”

“i already ate, don’t worry.” you nod then you drank your medicine.

“um…jake?”

“yeah?”

“thank you for coming over.”

jake smiles, “you’re welcome. you can sleep if you want to.”

“hm? aren’t you…don’t you need to go home and do other things?”

“if it’s alright with you…could i stay for a while? i just figured that you need someone to take care of you right now.”

you couldn’t find the right words to say. jake sim, your highschool classmate, childhood crush, your daughter’s math tutor—is willing to nurse you.

“are you sure?”

“if it’s alright with you. because,” jake slowly brings his hand to your forehead. when you realized what he wanted to do, you leaned forward, letting his hand touch your forehead.

“you’re still burning up.”

the thought of jake sim touching your forehead still causes you to become speechless. when he lets go, you pretended to not be bothered at all.

“are you sure you’ll be okay? i’m a heavy sleeper.”

“i don’t mind. sleep all you want.”

jake takes the tray and helps you fix your pillow, tucking you inside your blanket.

“goodnight, y/n.”

you smile, “goodnight, jake.”

jake was by your side until the day you got better. he cooked you food and let you rest. you felt guilty that he had to nurse you but he wanted to do it wholeheartedly. and your heart fluttered.

you confessed to aera that her uncle jake has been taking care of you while she was away. she was jealous at first because she wanted to take care of you. but you explained to her that you didn’t want to get her sick. she came to her senses and thanked jake that he took care of you. yujin, though, was protective at first but she proceeded to tease you about it.

though lately you’ve realized, your attraction on jake sim was coming back. but this time, you were starting to see him in a different light. he has always been selfless, kind, and gentle but him showing those actions to your daughter made you like him more. but of course, you couldn’t tell him directly how you felt. things were different now that you’re a mom and he’s your daughter’s math tutor.

you’d rather hide your feelings than accept a rejectin. you’ll be reminded that things that come into your life are temporary.

today, you were going to take aera out to a museum for kids. why? because she got a high score in her math exam. while you were sick, aera managed to study on her own and remember the lessons she had with jake. you called jake and told him the news and he felt so proud of her.

“mommy, can uncle jake come with us?”

“i don’t know, sweetie. but i’ll call uncle jake first, okay?” aera nods her head vigorously.

jake’s phone continued ringing and you waited for him to pick-up the call.

“hello, y/n?”

“hey, jake.”

“hi, uncle jake!” aera says and you hear jake laugh.

“aera says hi.”

“well, what’s up?”

“oh…you see, i’m taking aera out today. and we were wondering—i mean she was wondering if…if you wanted to come with us.”

you shake your head, feeling anxious if jake caught you. but that worry disappeared when jake replies, “sure, i mean i’d love to.” and he sounded full of glee.

“g-great! we’ll pick you up then?”

“oh, no. i’ll pick you guys up.”

“oh. but—”

“no, really. i want to pick you guys up.”

“oh,” again, jake’s doing the smallest things can become big. “okay, we’ll be ready by then.”

“okay. see you later.

“see you later.”

never in a long time has jake sim thought that he’ll be meeting y/n again. not in a million years has he also expected to meet y/n’s daughter.

jake sim was just having a regular day: teaching physics at school, checking their papers, and create lesson plans. he goes home, continues checking papers, finishes his lesson plan, and reads more textbooks whether it be math or physics. finally, he washes up, does a little bit of social media, then goes to bed.

jake was used to getting compliments of him being a math genius. many expected him to be a scholar, a professor, an engineer, or a physicist. but it wasn’t that easy. believe it or not, jake sim couldn’t seem to know where he can fit in. he was the golden boy from high school but after he graduated, he became lost and unsure. but he did know he loved math and physics alongside ramyeon noodles.

jake sim does his daily routine when suddenly, he receives a message. he puts his papers down and checks his phone.

hello! are you available for a meet-up?

then he replies, hello there! may i know who i’ll be tutoring?

the sender didn’t reply. he thought that it was the usual ones who reply after an hour or two so he goes back to checking his papers.

after a while, the sender replied.

it’s my seven-year-old daughter. she needs help in math.

jake returns his attention to his phone.

jake: oh i see. may i know who i am speaking with?

the sender sends a familiar name. then jake remembers a girl he frequently heard in school.

jake: y/n? did we go to the same school together?

y/n: yup! same school since 2nd grade to high school.

jake felt like catching up with an old friend. he might have not known you that much but he knew your reputation of being one of his admirers and that you were full of spirit with a good personality. though he did remember you causing some trouble but you weren’t the bad student type. in fact, he remembers you giving him compliments on sticky notes.

jake: great! looking forward to meeting you.

y/n: looking forward to meeting you too.

fast forward to the day jake was going to meet you. it was only a casual meet-up about agreements and how he’ll help your daughter pass math class. he noticed that you seemed worried about your kid but he assured you that he’ll try his best to help her.

and when he met her, he couldn’t help but soften up. meeting aera was like a breath of fresh air to his regular students. aera was willing to listen and learn on her lessons. she was very sweet and fun to be with. her spirit reminded him of yours when you were younger.

“uncle jake, i drew this picture for you.” aera gives him a drawing of him, reading books on the table with a blackboard behind him that had math equations.

“you really drew this?” jake asks amazed at your daughter’s drawing skills.

“mhm! because you’re my favorite teacher and i like you.”

jake couldn’t help but smile at aera. the kid was too cute and sweet to do such a thing. he heard you walking from the kitchen, and you had some biscuits placed inside a bowl.

“for the both of you.”

“thank you, mommy.”

jake notices how aera says “thank you” whether it be small or big actions. he liked that about a kid. but then again, he notices that you do the same. and he can’t help but think that you really are a good  mother.

ever since jake met you and aera, his routine might have become longer than before. but he didn’t mind one bit. not when he can get to help you and aera.

jake’s first reaction of you getting sick was that he got worried. the thought of you sick in bed, alone in your home almost made him loose his mind at class.

“i just figured that you need someone to take care of you right now.”

he knew that you got stressed and tired from taking care of aera. he couldn’t imagine how you managed to get through it in seven years. and he wanted to take care of you.

jake might have had had encounters with women but they weren’t any serious. in his defense, he only went on dates so that sunghoon can stop pestering him.

his bond with you and aera’s was different. the only connection you and jake had was that you both went to the same school. now, you don’t have any status aside from the fact that he’s a math tutor. but he liked it when you ask them how they’re doing and give you snacks. something about your smile and warmth makes him feel comfortable and excited at the same time.

right now, he felt happy feeling that you’re letting him be part of your mother and daughter time.

“uncle jake, have you ever been to a museum?”

“i have. your mother and i went to one in a field trip.”

“mommy says that we’re going to a museum filled with drawings.”

“that sounds fun. you excited?”

“mhm! and it’s more exciting because you’re here.”

jake looks at you, smiling at the interaction. throughout the whole ride, he’s been noticing that you’ve been smiling and giggling the whole ride. and he couldn’t help but gush over it.

the moment the three of you came into the museum, aera couldn’t help but become excited. you let aera be happy and excited but not too much or she’ll break some displays.

you took a picture of aera at the interactive displays. jake took pictures of you and aera, you doing vise versa when aera wanted a picture with him. then aera says that she wanted to have a picture with the three of you. when jake looked at the picture, he couldn’t help but think the three of you looked like a family.

“uncle jake, look! you look like my daddy.”

aera’s words affected both of you. jake has always noticed that your bond with you and aera has changed. but he never noticed that it was beyond that. until now.

“sweetie, let’s go to the mannequins, hm?”

“okay!”

then you carry aera and the two of you happily walk to the mannequins. aera was giggling at how the living mannequin gave her a flower.

suddenly, jake saw you carrying a baby in a living room. then aera comes running to you, and you show her the baby. “here’s your little sister, you say.” then you look at jake, “honey.” aera calls him, “daddy!” then runs to his direction.

“jake!”

he blinks when you called him.

“let’s go?”

“uh, y-yeah. i’ll be right there.”

you had a great time day today. aera was happy to spend her day with you guys and you were happy that she’s happy. jake’s company also made you feel happy. you thought that today’s trip would only be you and aera but with jake, it became a memorable one that you’ll never forget.

aera was sleeping peacefully at the back. you and jake were still awake but both of you were tired.

“she had fun, didn’t she?” jake asks, his eyes focusing on the road.

“she certainly did.

“who knew that she can run so fast?”

“one time, i had to chase her for thirty minutes in a playground. couldn’t catch up with her.”

“she reminds me of you. when we were eight.”

“oh please. anyone can barely put up with my energy.”

“it’s one of the best things about you.”

once again, jake sim made your heart flutter. when the car stops, jake looks at you and you avoid his gaze.

you let out a soft laugh, “yeah. i might have passed it down too much. you might have a hard time catching up with us.”

“i don’t mind. i can catch up just fine.”

then the light turns green and jake starts driving again. you were clutching your hand to your chest. your heart was beating fast that you could barely breathe. you hoped that your heart will have mercy until you got home.

minutes later, you arrived at your home. jake said he can carry aera all the way up to your unit.

you opened the door to aera’s room and jake slowly lies her down. you stand by the doorway and watch jake tuck her in and rub aera’s forehead before he leaves the room. both of you take one last glance at aera before you closed the door.

“thank you for tucking her in. and driving us home.”

“you’re welcome.”

just like the other night, you and jake were standing by the door, staring at each other. both of you didn’t say anything but give each other a look. you recognized that look because you had that look from when you were young and when you met jake again. some part of you felt scared. you never let anyone else in your life, after being left with a baby to raise on your own. but that other part was telling you that you felt happy and excited by letting someone in your life again. when all he showed you was you were worth taking care of.

“jake, i—”

jake didn’t let you finish when his lips landed on yours. his mouth molded perfectly in yours and you couldn’t help but kiss back. jake grabs your nape and the action made you sharply inhale. both of you kissed faster and tried catching each other’s lips. realizing that you’re standing in front if your daughter’s door, you pull away.

“she might hear us.” you whisper and before jake could say anything, you pulled him to your room.

when both of you got inside, you lean at the door and jake kisses you again. this time, you pulled him down by wrapping your arms around his neck. you tried catching your breaths before diving back into each other’s lips. jake slides his hand down to your waist and you let out a whimper. he took that signal as a sign to take off his coat and pull you with him.

you ended up being on top of jake and both if you giggled. you took off your jacket and before you knew it, jake was on top of you. he goes back to kissing you and holding your waist, as you held the sides of his face. jake’s lips left yours as he brushes it to your cheeks, down to your jaw, then down to your neck.

you let out a sigh, feeling euphoria. his touch was gentle and you yearned for it. you pull jake closer and he continues his magic. he slides his hands up then behind your back. you pull jake up and kissed again. he slows his movements this time, getting the rhythm that you wanted.

then realization hit you. this feeling was familiar and the thought was scaring you. the last time you felt this kind of attraction, that person was temporary in your life. you knew that jake was too. eventually, you and jake will part ways when his task is done.

“jake…” you say when you pull away. but jake doesn’t hear you and latches his lips on your neck again.

“wait. jake, stop.”

then jake finally hears you and his eyes looked worried.

“did i hurt you?”

“no. no, no. i…”

you couldn’t look at him in the eye. when you stood up, you brushed your hair back and looked at anywhere else.

“is everything okay?”

“i’m sorry. i don’t…”

you covered your face out if embarrassment, along with fear.

“y/n?” jake holds your arm. his touch made you slowly uncover your face.

“are you okay?”

“i’m…i’m scared.”

jake looks at you with his soft eyes. he places his hand on your cheek and you can feel the tears falling from your eyes.

“oh, no. don’t cry.”

but you did. you let yourself be pulled by jake’s embrace. jake calms you down by rubbing your back.

“everything is going to be alright. i'm here.”

for the first time, you’re actually believing those words.

after crying and staying silent for hours, you finally had the courage to tell jake your sturggles.

“I met this guy in college. he was a year older than me but we took the same class.

“we went on a few dates before we became official. we had a plan. we graduate, gets jobs, get married, and eventually start a family.

“getting drunk at the graduation party was not part of it. getting pregnant after the party—not at all.”

jake continues to hold your hand as both of you lie down on your bed. he let you rest your head on his shoulder as you tell your story. jake sympathized with you, waiting for you to finish what you wanted to say.

“i told him but he said he was sticking to his plan. so he’s completely out of the picture and i raised aera on my own.

“ever since then, i was so scared of letting anyone in my life again. it scares me.

“i’m sorry.”

jake puts his hand on your cheek and you face him.

“don’t be. you’re allowed to feel what you feel.”

you give jake a smile, still feeling your eyes swell. but you were thankful that jake was very understanding.

“thank you for listening.”

“thank you for telling me.”

jake soothes your back and you didn’t notice that you fell asleep in his arms.

after that night, you and jake exchanged “hi’s” awkwardly. but you tried your best not to show aera or let it affect you and jake’s agreement.

weeks passed, you and jake grew out of your awkward phase and became more comfortable eith each other. but he never forced you to start anything with him. he continued being a great father-figure to aera.

you can say that what you had was unlabeled but a part of you knows that you were starting to fall in love with jake. but you were afraid to tell him.

you were just washing the dishes after jake and aera finished their cakes. then aera’s question made you stop.

“uncle jake, if i get a high grade in math, does that mean you won’t be going here anymore?”

“of course not, kiddo. why would you think that?”

“because after i get a high grade, you won’t be teaching me anymore.”

“well, yes…because you already know how to do math. but…” at this point, you were looking at jake then he continues, “it doesn’t mean i'll stop visiting you.”

“really?”

“really.”

then aera hugs jake and he hugged her back.

“if you ace the final exam, we’ll eat mint chocolate ice cream together.” then jake looks at you.

“okay!”

aera did her best and jake was beyond proud of her. you were too. you were proud for the both of them. seeing jake with aera, you thought that he can be more than a father-figure. you knew that both of them have a special bond that is more than a tutor and student.

the next days, jake was starting to stay at home longer. he was so familiar with the place that he remembers where you keep your plates and utensils. one time, the three of you played monopoly and you didn’t remember how long you played because the three of you were having fun. jake declared himself as the winner even though there is no real winner in monopoly.

some nights, you and jake would tuck aera together and she liked it. she never complained about having a father but with jake becoming part of your lives, it was like a dream come true for her.

“i don’t know if me hanging out longer looks like i'm invading your home.”

“i don’t mind. besides, we like having you around.”

you and jake were alone in the living room. drinking a glass of wine while having late night conversations.

“do you maybe…want us to go out sometime? just the two of us.”

“yeah. i’d love that.”

“great. it’s a date then.”

you were surprised but you liked it.

“yes, jake. it’s a date.”

you lean on the couch with the glass on your right hand. jake leans in the couch too, looking at you softly.

“it’s weird though.”

“what is?”

“that i never got to see how amazing you are. you’re not just the girl who causes trouble or teachers dislike for drawing in class.”

“to be fair, i never realized how good you are with kids. it’s making me hard not to fall for you.”

you didn’t know if it was the alcohol. but you suddenly confessing your feelings for jake sim was somehow déjà vu.

“i’ll, uh,” you put down your glass, “i’ll make us some coffee.”

you stand up and was about to go to the kitchen when jake pulls you around and kisses you. you kissed him back, tasting the red sine you just drank. jake holds your cheek and you lean forward, holding his waist.

when you pull away, your eyes were still closed but you can feel jake’s breath on your lips.

“i love you.”

you open your eyes and jake was smiling at you. His cheeks were red. might be from the wine or from the proximity and confession he just said.

 “i’m not drunk am i?”

jake smirks, “i don’t think so.” then kisses you again, and you pull him closer.

“thank you for accepting me.” you whisper at his lips.

“no. thank you for accepting me.”

who would’ve thought that a bottle of red wine was all you needed for the perfect confession. but for now, you needed to make two cups of coffee so you and jake can have a proper conversation.

when you told aera the news, you told her that you loved jake like how anne loves gilbert and that jake loves you the same. then aera follows, “but didn’t you already know?” and you were caught off guard.

nevertheless, aera liked the idea of you and jake being together. you haven’t told her about how you met jake. but one day you will so that she’ll know that the right person will come along in time.

just as jake promised you, both of you will be going on a date together. you asked where you’ll be going but he said it was a surprise.

so you dressed up wearing a denim dress that you thought you’ll never use. you wore the necklace your mother gave you when you graduated high school. it felt weird when you asked aera if you looked okay. but she says that you look beautiful as ever. both yujin and gaeul wanted to babysit her this time. but you also knew that they wanted to see you finally having your date with jake sim. but they were hapoy for you that you finally found someone.

“you really don’t want to tell me where we’re going?”

“not a chance.”

you roll your eyes but you knew that jake was trying to give you a date you can remember.

minutes later, the scenery changed into a lake. the water was shining and the grass was turning to a yellow green color thanks to the sunlight. your jaw dropped at the scenery. it was like an actual painting.

when jake stopped the car, he immediately got out and opened the door for you.

“i wanted to find a place only for us.”

“how did you find this place?”

“had a little help from sunghoon and jay.”

“oh how are those two anyway?”

“they’re doing well, actually. jay is engaged and sunghoon is in denial that he’s crushing on his workmate.

you laugh, remembering sunghoon for his schemes and playboy antics. you remember him teasing jake about a girl he liked in high school.

“you okay?”

“hm?”

“you look grumpy.”

“oh.” you shake your head and grab the picnic basket from jake, “come on!”

the whole picnic, you and jake did some catching up. you told him that your parents are still residing in your hometown and your mom’s flower shop is still om business. your dad retired long ago and he just stays at home. jake’s parents were in australia and they were professors in two different universities.

“i suddenly remembered something. weren’t you supposed to move back to australia after high school?”

jake looks down at your figure, “you trying to get rid of me?” then you give jake a “really?” look and he laughs. you sit up and looked at him, placing your palm on his chest. jake was looking up at the sky, thinking deep.

“it was planned, yes. honestly, i was happy to be back home for a while but…something was telling me that i had to be somewhere else.

“i told my parents that i wanted to go back here. they were hesitant at first but i told them to trust me.”

“and did you find what you were looking for?”

“i did,” then he looks at you, “and i realized that i made the right choice to come home.”

“welcome home, jake.” you leaned down and intended to give him a quick kiss but he leans his face forward, trapping your lips.

“that wasn’t fair.”

“i love you too.”

you laugh but gave jake quick pecks and kept saying “I love you’s” in between. you were afraid of being too affectionate but you couldn’t help but show them when jake showers you a lot of it.

jake giggles like a kid then he hovers over you and it was his turn to attack you with kisses.

then both of you ate the sandwiches he made then watched the sunset together. and it was better than any romance movie you watched.

you and jake didn’t really care if you wanted to go public with your relationship. but now that both of you are driving back to your home town for the reunion, you couldn’t help but be nervous. everyone in high school knew your reputation especially that jake was involved. they don’t even know that you’re a single mom of a seven-year-old girl. and now, you’re dating the boy you had a crush on.

your friends won’t be coming because they had to babysit aera. you were hesitant at first to go but you promised jake that you’ll come with him. also, he really wanted to introduce you as his girlfriend to his friends.

“you ready?” jake unbuckles his seatbelt and then he notices you tensing up.

“you okay, baby?”

“what? oh. y-yeah. maybe not?”

“i’ll be with you the whole time,” jake places his hand on yours, “okay?”

you gulp then nod, “okay.”

jake unbuckles your seatbelt, “let’s go.”

when you and jake entered the hall, everyone was in their tables, probably chatting about their careers and relationships. they were all familiar faces. chaewon, the former class president, was chatting with your former homeroom teacher, mrs. bang. somi, one of jake’s admirers was with a date. ej was with his friend nicholas. those two were hard to separate.

“jake, my man!”

you and jake turn around and see jay approaching you. he and jake gave a brotherly hug. then out of no where, sunghoon barges in and headlocks jake.

“dude!”

“sim jaeyun is here!”

and apparently it caught everyone’s attention and they began whispering when they saw you with the famous “02z of daebom high.”

“so…jake.” sunghoon eyes you then back to jake, raising his eyebrows up and down.

“sunghoon, jay, you remember y/n, don’t you?” jake places his hand around your waist.

“how could we forget when she always screams in the hallways 'jake sim jjan!’ or ‘jakey, the sun can’t shine without your existence in the world!’”

“oh please, don’t.” your face becomes red from embarrassment.

“but y/n, i have to say, it’s about time jake did something more than spend his time on paperwork.”

the four of you chatted for a while before finding a table for the four of you. being in the same table with the three flower boys was your high school dream. it felt weird that it came true after many years but in different circumstances.

“baby, want something to eat?”

“not that hungry, thank you.”

“how about some appetizers?”

“meatballs with cheese would be nice though.”

“i’ll be right back,” jake eyes his friends, “be nice.”

“yes, sir!” sunghoon and jay do a salute before jake leaves you with them.

“y/n, tell me. has jake been giving you headaches?”

“no, actually, he’s been helping me a lot. he’d drop by and help tutor my daughter. then we’d have movie nights until we tuck aera to sleep. we go and do the most mundane dates but with him…he makes it so special.”

then you noticed jay and sunghoon just looking at you in awe.

“you really love him, don’t you?”

you nod, “i do. very much.”

“he may not be telling you this but, ever since he met you, his boring, ordinary life became vibrant and full of joy. i’ve never seen him that happy since.”

jay’s words made you feel accepted. he has always had a way with words but it was the first time you actually heard it.

“thanks, jay.”

“y/n, in case he does do something stupid, just give him a smack in the head and he’ll come around.”

“will try to remember that, sunghoon.”

“meatballs for my lady,” jake places the plate in front of you. jay and sunghoon were about to get some when jake slaps their hands.

“go get your own.”

jay was about to slap jake’s shoulder when mrs. bang starts to speak.

“class of 20xx, i’d like to start this reunion by saying, welcome home.”

everyone claps and you follow. your homeroom teacher continues by saying that there will be a program performed by somi and her friends. like before, she’s always had charisma when performing on stage.

there was games. pocky games were always the best. jay and sunghoon did it by vote. everyone cheered when the pocky stick became small in very bite. both of them didn’t want to loose but they didn’t want to touch each other’s lips either so jay took the fall.

there were some awardings too. the life of the party: sunghoon. shy prince: ej. math wizard: your jake. you got the artist award.

the event was still on-going but you and jake left early. you wanted jake to formally meet your parents.

on the drive going there, you felt nervous but you didn’t want to let jake know. as for jake, you can sense that he’s nervous because he was biting his tongue while looking at his feet.

“baby,” you call jake and when he turns around, “you cup his face.”

“they’re going to love you.”

this time, you’re assuring jake. you felt nervous too but you love jake and you know that he’s a good man that your parents will love.

you and jake waited for someone to answer the door. and when it opened, your mom answers it.

“hi, mom. dad.”

“y/n? who’s this?”

“this is jake. he’s my boyfriend.”

and your parents ended up loving jake. they remember him when you mentioned you went to daebom high together. suddenly, they told jake stories about you gushing over jake. you figured that you had quite the reputation here in town.

“oh jake, you should’ve seen y/n write your name at the back of her notebook with hearts.”

“mom!” you cover your face but your parents kept teasing you.

“jake, y/n might seem the free spirit type but she’s someone who has a big heart.”

“yes, sir. and i'll take care of her and aera.”

your dad kept offering jake some alcohol but you kept reminding him that both of you need to drive home. but a twist of events lead to jake becoming wasted and your parents saying that both of you should spend the night here.

“mom, i have to see aera.”

“y/n, you’re tired and jake is drunk. now, i don’t want both of you getting into an accident.”

you sigh, “yes, mom.”

you carried jake to your old room and lie him on his back. he kept calling your name but you just laughed, finding him cute with his red face.

“baby, i need to take off your shirt. okay?”

jake pouts and covers his chest, “my girlfriend will get mad at me.”

“jake, it’s me.”

jake slowly opens his eyes, “oHhh y/n!”

just like that, jake was fast asleep. you slowly lifted him so he can sit up. when he was sitting on the head board, you gently unbuttoned his shirt. you were thankful that he was wearing a white shirt inside. after that, you positioned him facing the side with a pillow under his head.

“talk about ‘i’ll take care of her.’”

you laugh softly but you lightly jake’s head. he looked really cute. sleeping like a baby.

“y/n…” jake says  slurring in his sleep.

“you and aera,” he lets out a hiccup, “are the best thing,” another hiccup, “that’s ever happened to me.”

for so long, you were so scared that when you let someone in your life, they’d leave you. for a while, you thought that you were content that it was just you and your daughter against the world. but eventually, this man right here, drunk and sleep talking is going to be a good father to aera. this man right here is the one you want to spend the rest if your life with.

you’ve been dating for a while now and he has been dropping by your place almost every day. so you asked him to move in with you. it wasn’t anything new except that jake doesn’t have to drive before he gets to see you and aera.

and when you slept at the same bed for the first time, it was a little awkward. but like before, both of you adjusted and got used to it.

you and jake would cuddle before you go to bed. he’d be the big spoon, whether you were facing behind him or you were lying on his chest.

“you know, i should’ve asked you sooner.”

“be grateful that i said yes in a heartbeat.”

“oh, thank you, sir jake.” you teasingly thank him like he was a knight.

the rest of the night, you’d have tickle fights until both of you will snuggle until you sleep.

but like any other relationship, there were always misunderstandings and conflicts.

“jake, all i'm saying is that we don’t have enough money to buy a new place.”

“y/n, i have enough to get us one.”

“didn’t it come across your mind that we should be buying it together?”

“well if maybe your job was—”

“what, jake? if i were a teacher, earning a monthly salary like you?”

“y/n, that’s not what i meant.”

but you walked out before he could finish. you didn’t talk to jake for the rest of the night. jake waa in the living room while you stayed in your bedroom. you were thankful that aera was oblivious to the situation.

after an hour, jake went inside your room and you were facing behind him.

“y/n…”

you didn’t say anything.

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that.”

“you think?”

“i just thought that if we get a new place, we’d finally settle in a home as a family. but truth is, wherever you are…you are my home.”

you finally turn around, but all you could do was stare at jake as he waits for you to say something.

“did you say family?”

‘yeah. i did.”

you didn’t think before hugging jake. he hugs you back, burying his face on your neck.

you and jake agreed that when the time is right, you’ll get a new place and everything else will fall into place.

you’ve been thinking for a while about what jake said. you did consider moving to a new place but your savings weren’t enough. but you also wanted to start a new life with jake in it.

so you decided to find a full-time job as an art teacher for elementary students. hoping that you’ll have enough income for your family’s future. and no, you didn’t force yourself. you choice this because it’s for the ones you love.

“ms. y/n, am i doing a okay?”

“you’re doing great, jungwon!” you give your student a big smile.

“niki you’re doing great too!”

you never fail to compliment your students. you might not have the best audiences when you were young. but you didn’t want to crush children’s dreams when they remind you of how you were.

“okay, kids. don’t forget that your homework is due tomorrow.”

you were thankful that your class was the last one. you were in the middle of fixing your things when someone knocked at the door.

“hey.”

“hey. your class is done?”

“yeah. well, i clocked out early.”

oh, right. jake finally became a full-time math teacher. both of you work at the same school. he thought that he should be helping you so you can get a new place. besides, it’s a great opportunity for him to go home with you and aera.

“are you not feeling well?” you stand up and held jake’s forehead but he shakes his head.

“actually, we are going out for a while.”

your eyes grew wide, “where are we going?”

“i’ll tell you when we get there.”

“jake.”

“it’s going to be fun,” you raised your brow at jake then he says, “i promise.”

next thing you knew, you and jake were in the car taking the route to  your hometown. the next surprising thing is when he parked in front of your old school.

“what are we doing here?”

jake just gives you a smile before getting out of the car. he opens the door for you, kneeling down.

“come with me.”

it might seem weird that jake always makes your heart flutter for the bare minimum but heck, this is jake sim we’re talking about.

both if you were walking down the hallways of the school. it felt weird walking in the same place where you called jake’s name to get his attention. now, you’re holding each other’s hand.

“don’t worry, the teachers know that we’re visiting.”

“any reason why we’re visiting?”

“when we reach the end of the hall, you’ll know.”

so you and jake continue walking. both of you stop then jake holds your hand.

“for this part, i'm going to need you to close your eyes.”

you were hesitant at first but you did what jake asked. he was holding your hand the whole time you walked with your eyes closed. then he stopped.

“wait a minute.”

jake’s lets go if your hand.

“you can open them now.”

you were greeted with lights behind jake. the banner with the sign, “will you accept me?” then you realized that this is how you confessed to jake in high school. and you’re in the same room.

jake was holding a bouquet with pink, white, and red roses with baby’s breath. and he had a ring on his other hand.

“y/n, i never would’ve thought that my boring, plain, life would be so colorful, vibrant, and joyful. you and aera…i couldn’t imagine how my life would turn out if you weren’t in my life. you let me become part of your life, and i want to spend my remaining days with you and our family.”

“so,” jake kneels down in front of you. the action caught your breath away.

“will you accept me?”

you gave yourself a minute to process what was happening. and when you did, you finally say…

“jake, i appreciate what you have done but…

“it would be a shame if i don’t say yes.”

you laugh and you let your tears fall on your face.

“yes, yes, yes.”

 jake stands up and finally gives you a tight hug. you bury your face in his chest.

jake kisses your head and whispers, “i love you.”

you lift your head up, “i love you.”

the last time you fell in love, things might not have gone the way you wanted them to. you doubted a lot of things and distanced yourself. then you met a man who proved to you that you deserve a second chance.

this time, you were sure that it will be different and will be the best thing that has ever happened to you.

***

epilogue

#ENHYPENWRITERS #enhypen au #enhypen jake au #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jaeyun x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen jake fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen jake angst #enhypen jaeyun #enhypen jaeyun fluff #enhypen jaeyun angst #enhypen jake x reader fluff #enhypen jake x reader angst #jake sim au #sim jaeyun #jake au #jaeyun au

[hinaaspanda]

off limits! | j.ww

pairing: brother's best friend! Jeon Wonwoo x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ content, swearing

genre: fluff, some angst, crack, smut; fingering, protected sex, dirty talk + praising

wc: 9,907

For years, you've had a crush on your brother's best friend; Jeon Wonwoo. Though, with him being so close to your brother, you couldn't do anything about those feelings, so you tuck them away and get over him. After not seeing him for years, you thought you were safe, free from a world of loving him. But, all of that changes when you meet him again... as your roommate!

a/n: hi! I'm back with my first fic for seventeen! I'm going through major wonwoo brainrot rn. this is also my first time writing for the smut genre so I hope you enjoy!

...

Currently, you stood before the one man you wanted nothing more than to avoid.

The best friend of your obnoxious brother, Jeon Wonwoo.

You felt Mingyu’s shoulder roughly brush past yours, dropping off the last of the boxes. You, however, couldn’t find yourself to put down the box nesting in your arms. You were too trapped in a world of shock to do so. Wonwoo pushed a few of his boxes off to the side as you watched Mingyu shuffle closer to his best friend—his best friend who had just moved away to an entirely new city for university, and who just so happened to be your new roommate.

6 feet under the ground has never looked more comfortable.

It wasn’t that you hated him or anything. As of right now, the two of you were—in a formal sense—acquaintances. However, a few years ago that would have been a different story. Sure, you may have never uttered more than a sentence to the quiet best friend of Kim Mingyu, but that didn’t stop you from growing absolutely infatuated with him. Thinking about him at every chance you got, daydreaming about him amidst the boring lectures of your high school social class.

His distance didn’t stop your heart from its emotional chase, but his proximity to your brother did. Every weekend Wonwoo would visit, every night he would stay late for dinner—it all reminded you of the roadblock that was your brother. So, after months of pining, with all the effort in your being, you finally decided to drop Jeon Wonwoo from your heart. What remained was the mundane label of acquaintances.

And now, roommates, apparently.

“I think that’s the last of it,” Mingyu said with a proud huff. Gathering his belongings, Mingyu strutted his way to the front door of your new home. The new home that, for some reason, you couldn’t forget was Wonwoo’s, too. Mingyu shot a pointer finger at your chest. “Call mom and dad when you get settled, okay? I gotta go. See ya y/n, you too Wonwoo!”

After bumping fists with Wonwoo for one last time, Mingyu headed out the door. The door slammed shut, and the two of you stood in silence, both of your eyes glued to the tops of your shoes. Not once in your life did you think you would ever say this, but maybe you missed your boisterous brother. Without his overbearing, annoying presence, the air between Wonwoo and you wouldn’t have been so thick, so tense.

To say this was a new situation to be in would be a deep understatement. Despite knowing him for years, you could never remember a time where you were alone with Wonwoo. Without distractions, or the overbearing presence of your brother. Just the two of you. Alone.

And now, you would spend the next few months just like that. Alone.

Without thinking, you break off the silence. Cringey– smack your head against the wall and curl up into a ball– kind of cringey small talk spills from your mouth. All the while your brain screams at you to shut up. Luckily, Wonwoo was kind enough to answer your embarrassingly useless questions about his life.

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember me” You suddenly spill out. Your eyes widen. What was wrong with you?

Wonwoo's head dipped down, his eyes catching a glimpse of you before falling back down to his slippers.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think I could ever forget about you.”

Woah. Okay. That was weird. You could feel your cheeks flare up.

Wonwoo and you each steal a glance from each other's eyes, like nervous middle schoolers at a school dance. You wanted to rip your eyes away from him and his… changed physique, but you once again caught yourself staring the moment he shined an innocent smile.

God, okay.

"Er, why don't we start unpacking?" you chirped hastily, wanting nothing more than to escape the suffocating air of awkwardness.

…

With a ceramic bowl in your hands, you stood still. Gawking at the towering shelf before you. It couldn't be helped, you didn't know what to do when the only vacant space for said bowl was at the very top of said shelf. You try a variety of preliminary solutions first; reaching with all your might, balancing on your tippy toes to close the gap. It didn’t work. An exhausted sigh pushed through your lips, that same sigh switching to a low toned groan by the end of it. The way you were going to reach it? Only God knew.

Safe to say, you were not expecting this specific solution.

You felt a sudden warmth ghosting behind you. Closely behind. Maybe a few centimeters. You inhale sharply, the shock stunning you. Your eyes graze over a particularly toned arm reaching beside, then past yours. It’s fingers snatching the bowl away from your pitiful ones. Your ears perk up to the sound of shifting, and another hand snakes around your side, fully entraping your figure against the counter. You prayed the heat of your skin came from the poorly conditioned apartment.

“Here, let me help you,” Wonwoo said nonchalantly, through a grin. So aloof, so opposite to how flustered you felt. His towering arm placed the bowl on the shelf. He stood in that position—trapping you against the counter—for a few more seconds (but what felt like an eternity) before returning to his own things to unpack. You barely stuttered a response, wanting nothing more than to suffocate in the bubble wrap from the boxes.

…

There was a specific horror when it came to sharing everything with Boo Seungkwan. You see, he had a slight tendency to make sure you never forget.

That man in question, along with you and your other best friend, Vernon, sat on Vernon’s couch. The original plan was to enjoy the weekend in each other’s company while watching a movie everyone could enjoy. Instead, you sat silently in the middle, munching your way through the chip as your two friends argued over the remote.

“No, I’m choosing. We are not gonna sit through another one of your stupid artsy films!”

“They’re not stupid, you’re just too stupid to understand whats going on!”

“Last time we watched a movie you chose, I had to sit through 10 minutes of two people having sex with a crowd of people moaning along. Never. Again.”

You wince at the memory of the movie that made a new definition of horror in your books. Vernon snatched the remote again. “My house, my movie.”

Seungkwan scowled. “Then we’re never watching a movie under your roof again. Next time we’re at my place.”

Vernon barked back. “With a couch we can barely fit on? Nice try!”

“At least we’ll be cozy and not traumatized!”

Vernon sighed, suddenly handing the remote to you. “Okay fine, why don’t we go to Y/n’s house next time, and she can pick the movie.”

You jolt at the sudden mention of your name.

Your eyes scan Seungkwan’s expression, an expression which switches immediately into one of mischief. An evil grin shines on his face as he sends a nudging elbow to your side. His eyebrows wiggle, and you roll your eyes, knowing exactly what was bound to come next. “Yeah! And we can finally meet Mr. Roomie/Mingyu’s best friend that Y/n’s got the hots for!!”

Heat running to your cheeks, you shove Seungkwan’s shoulder. Hard. “I don’t have the ‘hots’ for him, dumbass. I just had a… small crush on him when we were kids, that’s all.”

“Uh huh, okay.” His tone bled unimpressed. “That’s not what it sounded like when you called me last week.” Now Vernon was interested, cocking an eyebrow at your direction.

You nipped at your lips. Shit. He was right. When you called him—on the day you moved in—you sounded a little too freaked out to be completely indifferent about your new roommate.

It was unclear how you truly felt about Jeon Wonwoo. But one thing's for sure, it wasn’t normal.

“Oh, Y/n” Seungkwan sighed dramatically, throwing an arm around your shoulders for an embrace. “I dunno about you, but I wouldn’t ignore someone like him! I think there's definitely something there, girl.”

You never thought you’d say this, but you missed 5 minutes ago, when the topic of conversation was the unique movie tastes of your friends, and the chosen mode of communication was yelling, despite them literally being one person— you— apart. At least then, you weren’t stuck thinking about your berserk living situation.

…

There’s definitely something there.

Seungkwan’s words played over and over again in your head. On the bus ride home, as you got ready for bed, and as you tucked yourself in your cozy covers, those 4 words replayed.

As smart as Boo Seungkwan claimed to be, he was wrong on this one. You didn’t have feelings for your roommate. The night you moved in— the ceramic bowl incident, as Vernon liked to call it— was just a slip up. One mistake in a sea of second chances. You were fine. After all, a week has passed since you moved in, and to your surprise, the two of you were actually settling in quite nicely. Quick exchanges of small talk filled the shared air, replacing the tense silence your week began with. Slowly the two of you began to open up, chatting about your day during your shared meals. Wonwoo even proposed the brilliant idea of having a dishwashing schedule. You could still remember how proud he was when he thought of the idea.

It was almost… cute.

You caught yourself, fingers pulling down your cheeks as you try to hide the smile that came so automatically at the thought of that damn dishwashing schedule. The heat that rose to your cheeks when you think of how easy it was to talk to him nowadays. No. You were not going to fold now.

With a final huff jumping from your chest, you hop out of your bed, ready to start your day. Your day, that, with enough determination, would be free of weird thoughts regarding your roommate. You hovel to the apartment living room, your tired eyes immediately making contact with a certain bowl shaped head. Complete in his loose fitted white t-shirt, black joggers, and thin rimmed glasses. His fingers clutched onto a gaming controller, his fingers moving the controls that gave life to his first person shooter. As if your gaze summoned him, Wonwoo turned around, a smile beaming from his lips.

“Good morning!”

You watched him grin at you with his lightly tousled bed hair. You instinctively wrap an arm around your stomach, to hide the somersaults it was currently performing under your shirt. Convincing yourself that it was the morning hunger, you shine a bogus smile. “Morning!”

To say that he’s changed within the years you methodically avoided him would be a deep understatement. Though he was presently sitting down, past encounters with him proved that he towered over you. He’d always been taller than you, but now the difference was much more dramatic. And while he stood massively before you, at least back then he was lanky, built with little to no muscle. Now? God generously replaced that lanky frame with a physique gifted from, well, the gods. Sure, his shirt was loose, but his arm and chest muscles still managed to peek through the fabric. You catch your stubborn eyes staring at his broad shoulders a little longer than you expected.

His face managed to change, too. It grew more sculpted, his cheeks chiseled and jawline so sharp it could cut you. Though the idea of touching his jaw didn’t scare you off, only intriguing you. You shook your head aggressively, shaking away those horrid thoughts.

You pivot on your heel, beginning to make your way to the kitchen. You weren’t strong enough to handle whatever your heart was going through, so you opted for a light breakfast instead.

However, you can never have it your way, now can you?

The clicks of the controller stopped for a second, and Wonwoo’s voice peaks in your ears.

“Wanna play with me?”

…

“Uh, Wonwoo” You slowly inched away from the screen. After dropping into the game’s world, it had finally hit you that you had no idea how to even play. His gaze which burned your back, however. It distracted you from the game entirely. You clear your throat.

“How do you play?”

“Bruh” Wonwoo muttered, and you gave an apologetic laugh. Maybe you did deserve the lecture about not skipping the very simple tutorial that only played once so you wouldn’t die within two minutes of the game. You moved the controls randomly, dropping items and taking damage like it was no tomorrow, all against Wonwoo’s best interest. You almost wanted to do it out of spite, just to mess with him a little.

Guess Wonwoo had a little trick up his sleeve as well.

“Oh my god, okay, here.”

Without warning, you felt two muscular arms slither around your waist, connecting at the controller you also held snug against your chest. Sparks pop against your skin, and you shiver in surprise. You honestly couldn’t tell if your jaw was touching the carpet floor or not, or if you had the chance to blink. You couldn't make sense of anything. Nothing made any goddamn sense. The pads of his thumbs trace your fingers, your peripheral vision showing truly how small your hands were compared to his.

“This button is used to shoot, okay?” his voice rumbled deep—was his voice always this deep?— as he practically whispered flush against your ear. You couldn’t help but shiver at the contact. You inhale deeply, compensating from your current lack of air. The way each syllable tingled against your skin. You were never going to survive real life, never mind this stupid video game. “Here, you can check your inventory, and here, you can change your weapon.”

It was as if time had stopped. Your mind was going crazy. The delicate touch of his fingers, the tingles of his voice on your skin, his frame encasing yours in his arms—all of it. You couldn’t handle one single bit of it. You couldn’t give two flying fucks about the game at this point. A part of you wanted to stay, just like this.

Abruptly, however, the ding of the doorbell sounds throughout the apartment. The two of you jolt awake, and you jump away from each other. Wonwoo glances away immediately. Almost as if he was flustered. After composing yourself, you trot to the door, and peek through the apartment camera.

It was your brother. Kim fucking Mingyu.

…

“Basketball game?” You and Wonwoo chirped in unison.

“Yeah!” Mingyu grinned from across the kitchen table. He cradled the glass containers full of homemade food, a gift to you— courtesy of your thoughtful mother. He tilted his head to you. “I thought I texted you about it?”

You froze. “Oh.” Okay, it wasn’t your fault your brain had been quite preoccupied as of recently. “I didn’t see it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mingyu swayed his hand. “I want you guys to come watch!”

Wonwoo and you glance at one another, your movements falling in unison as you discuss the possibility of attending. A discussion that needed minimal words, as if you could already read each other’s mind. It piqued your brother’s interest, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Since when did you two get so close?”

You froze, fingers nervously dancing on your tabletop. A wave of fear shot down your spine as your eyes refused to look at Wonwoo; your brother’s best friend. You would very much rather die a slow, painful death, than to have your brother realize his best friend and his little sister were getting too close for comfort.

Of course, your cheeks heat up at the thought of getting closer with Wonwoo. You shake your head, squinting. Stop it. Now’s definitely not the time.

The low ahem grumbled from your side, and Wonwoo shifted forward. His tone sounded swift, almost panicked. Like he was trying to hide something. “We’re roommates, of course we’re close.”

Wonwoo looked at you once more, shining a smile. You turn to your brother, your smile being fully false. “Uh, yeah!”

You watched as Mingyu’s eyes darted between your figures, narrowing in suspicion before widening back up. You heave a sigh of relief. For once, you were grateful for your brother’s slowness. “Oh right, why didn’t I realize?” His laugh filled the kitchen air, and the two of you laughed along.

Right. You huffed. You and Wonwoo were nothing but roommates to each other. Anything more could lead to a confusing, and unfavorable event.

…

You watched as Wonwoo locked your apartment door, the evening lights peeking through the window serving as your first indication that it was time for dinner together. Dinner together. You couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit fuzzy as you placed down two of each utensil on your shared table.

You slap yourself. Snap out of it!

“Mingyu’s kinda slow, isn’t he?” Wonwoo’s voice perked through your ears. “He really forgot that we were roommates.”

Your chest releases a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah”

Roommates. That's what you two were. Though, you weren’t quite sure who that reminder was really for. You wanted it to be for him, but the sinking feeling in your chest could suggest who it was really meant for.

…

There were two sounds that took over the apartment air that Saturday evening. The faint audio of a romantic comedy, and the much more prominent sounds of you and Wonwoo, arguing about said romantic comedy.

“This is ridiculous,” Wonwoo gestured a very judgmental hand towards the screen, where the male lead just so happened to bump into his female love interest in a completely different country. “There’s no way he’d meet her across the country by accident, that’s not realistic at all.”

You waved your hands, frustrated at the sheer man energy Wonwoo was exhibiting, trying to explain everything with dumb realism. “Are you dumb? This is a drama, it’s not supposed to be realistic!”

Wonwoo only grimaced before quieting down, sinking into the couch before continuing the film. You knew he always had a bone to pick with anything that didn’t fit nicely into the realms of realism,—rich coming from a literal gamer, but okay— so it was a surprise when your brother’s best friend asked to join you during your weekly rom-com binge. Though now you were close to taking back your words, seeing as his only motivation was to give you a goddamn headache.

As the two of you grow immersed in the screen, with sprinkles of bickering here and there, an hour and a half passes on the clock, and the two of you finally reach the finale. The two main leads find each other at opposite ends at a crosswalk. The music queues and sudden rain pours in. As the walking lights turn green, the two characters meet at the center of the road, a passionate kiss locking between their lips. And with that, the credits roll. It was as unrealistic as you can get. A pure product of fiction. You were expecting Wonwoo to explode with confusion. This ending infuriating his realism fueled brain. However, he seemed to be focused on something else entirely.

“That was a bad kiss scene.” Your brother’s best friend blurted out. It took you aback, your eyes bouncing between him and the screen. “Huh?”

“There was no build up, the guy sorta just rushed in. If the audience didn’t know anymore, they would’ve thought that he just smacked her head or something.”

You looked back at the screen, thinking back to the kiss. He did have a point, the main male lead did seem a little rushed. You wonder if the kiss scene was actually as good as you initially thought, or if its quality was just masked by the cool lighting and special effects.

Wait. Your brows furrow. What did he even know?

Was Jeon Wonwoo a good kisser?

Almost immediately, certain thoughts take over your brain. Your heart was beating faster and faster with each tick of the clock above you. You nip at your lips. No, no, no. You couldn’t have those thoughts in your head. The last thing you wanted was to develop anything for your brother’s best friend. The consequences of doing such were too much for your tiny brain to comprehend.

Yet, why couldn’t you stop thinking about it?

“What do you know about kissing, anyways?” You probe defensively, though you weren’t sure what the defense was for. “You think you could do better or something?”

“Oh, way better.” Wonwoo said with a puffed chest and a familiar heat began to creep on your cheeks. “Unlike him, I wouldn’t rush it. I’d take my time with her…”

Wonwoo’s eyes met yours. “...Savor her.”

You felt queasy to your stomach. Only now, at this very moment, did you become very aware of how intimate you two currently were. Shoulder to shoulder on your living room couch, dim lights cascading off your figures as the evening light grew dark. Wonwoo’s chest was just centimeters away from yours, which was heaving in and out at this point.

“I wouldn’t be rough with her. If I'm kissing her, I need to cherish her. I never waste my kisses.”

Were you dreaming? So far, none of this movie night seemed to be real, except for maybe the very fictional film you watched. Everything else felt just like a dream

But for some reason, you didn’t want to wake up.

With one last ghost of his fingertips, Wonwoo pinches your cheek. You wake up to an innocent seeming grin before watching him shoot up from the couch. You didn’t go after him though, you were still too stunned, too frozen to move.

Why was Jeon Wonwoo shaking you up so much?

…

Panic quickly overtook you.

With the amount of steps you took while pacing around the living room floor, you were convinced you had just walked a marathon. Your teeth pick at the skin of your lips, your fingers—lined with anxiety—fiddling with each other. Your eyes dart back to the clock. 7:49.

In about 5 minutes, Wonwoo would come home.

To say that lately, you’ve been on edge when it comes to your brother’s best friend, would be a grave understatement. One moment, he’s snug against your frame while playing video games, or telling you how good of a kisser he was while watching a tv drama. The next? He's busy convincing his best friend that nothing stood between you aside from the mere label of roommates. Wonwoo was making you go crazy. And so, you found yourself building a wall between the two of you, one brick at a time.

At first, you deemed the plan too harsh. But one thing was for certain.

You couldn’t let yourself fall in love with Jeon Wonwoo. Your brother’s best friend.

During the past weeks, you ate together less, hiding behind the lousy excuse of school assignments. You avoided his eyes every time you grazed his figure at the hall. You don’t know how you did it, but you managed to avoid contact with your roommate. After all, you needed to do all you could to get rid of these estranged feelings.

Your original plan today was to avoid your brother’s roommate, just as usual, but your escape route for the day had miraculously blown up in your face, with both Seungkwan and Vernon both canceling on you mere hours before you were about to head out the door. And with no back up plan at your side, you had nothing else to fall back to once Jeon Wonwoo came back home.

A click sounds from the front door, and you jolt back to reality. Shit.

The door slowly swings open, and a figure emerges. He brushes his hair—soaked from the crashing rain outside—away from his face. Your stubborn eyes couldn’t help but travel down, briefly locking with the translucency of his white shirt, which the rain water made sure not to miss. His eyes meet yours, and for some reason, you couldn’t seem to rip yours away from his grasp.

“Hey y/n!” He chirped with a smile, his deep voice rumbling in your ears. You hum a simple response, eyes mapping out your escape route to the stairs— which wasn’t at all in your favor. Your only path to freedom was the hallway before you, the hallway that Wonwoo also stood in front of. With his eyes still burning through your figure, a question jumps from his lips. “Have you eaten?”

His words led to realize that you had, in fact, not eaten dinner. You couldn’t reveal that, though.

“I’m not that hungry,” A bogus smile lifts your cheeks. You thought that that was enough, that your words were plenty for him to accept your rejection. But, of course, a loud, low grumble echos from your stomach, causing the both of you to glance down. Wonwoo glances back up at you, cocking an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Positive! Now, if you’ll excuse me- ” You chirp, two words occupying your brainspace. Run. NOW.

You dash to the end of the hallway, eyes glued to the tiled floor. Maybe, just maybe, if you looked away, Wonwoo would forget that you were there.

Clearly, though, he didn’t.

Just as your shoulder brushed past his, you felt a harsh tugging sensation at your wrist. You spring back, your gaze meeting a particularly soaked chest. After stalling your hardest for about 5 seconds, you finally glance up. Wonwoo’s eyes, however, had already been on you. Hell, you were convinced they never left your figure since he got home.

“Is something wrong?” Wonwoo grilled, eyes taking the time to map your figure. You swat your hand, resisting the temptation to stay right where you were. Right in front of him. “Just not feeling it, that’s all,”

“I’m not just talking about tonight,” The end of his sentence grew rough and gritted. His grasp on your wrist grew tighter as he pulled you closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird for a while now, you don’t think I haven’t noticed?”

Isn’t it obvious? You thought. I need to get away from you. Otherwise, I’ll fall in love with you even more.

“You’ve haven’t said a word to me in weeks and you’re always stuck up in your room. At first, I was fine with giving you space but now, it’s like you're avoiding me.”

You pick at your lips, averting his gaze.

“I just wanna know what’s going on, y/n.” His voice sounded weak, almost desperate. Your heart chipped, your stomach churning in guilt. You stayed silent, your arm growing heavy in his grasp. Wonwoo finally sighed, shoulder slumping forward as he let your wrist go, defeat ghosting over his back. “Okay then.”

It was as if a bullet shot through your chest, your heart crumbling into grains of sand. Your heart swelled up, overflowing with emotions you couldn’t even fathom or explain. Your head was spinning on the spot. A part of you wanted nothing more than to give in, to forget it all and throw yourself into his arms. A flood of images rushed to your mind; Mingyu, Mingyu with Wonwoo, and lastly, Wonwoo with you. The image of his smile staining your mind a little longer.

You couldn’t be with him. It could ruin everything.

Pivoting your feet, you take one glance at Wonwoo. His gaze finally began to drop from your figure. You gulp, a cog in your brain suddenly shifting.

Fuck it, None of that mattered anymore.

It was all a rush. Without your brain properly functioning, you pivot again. Your chin aligned with his chest and your eyes finally met his. Confidently. As you threw every conscious and careful thought away from you, you took a step forward. And another. Until the gap between your figures closed shut. He stares back blankly, his eyes glinting with a sense of the same need your body flared up with, the need that you denied yourself so many times. All because of whatever labels you two gave yourselves. With your stomach flipping in on itself, you close your eyes.

And kiss him.

…

You were off limits. Jeon Wonwoo knew that much.

Wonwoo never knew why you stood out so much every time he’d stay over at Mingyu’s house. At first, he concluded that it was because you were an innocent girl hanging out in a sea of rowdy teenage boys. With his calm demeanor, you seemed like a dream to hang out with, compared to the others. Next, he concluded that it was just a coincidence, and that he wasn’t actually seeing you constantly. While that was partly true; the fact that you weren’t actually in his sight constantly, in truth, you plagued his mind like a disease. The symptoms? Lovesickness and a mild headache.

His love sickness came into play every chance it got. Every time you’d show up during one of Mingyu’s get togethers, every time you would spare him a wave before he left to go back home. Each and every time you entered his life, he melted into a puddle.

However, no matter how smitten he was with you, there was a constant reminder of the one person standing in his way. His best friend, Kim Mingyu. It was beyond wrong to go for the little sister of his closest friend, that was almost a given. And with that, Wonwoo let both you, and the idea of being anything more than friends, go. Though thinking back, Wonwoo could never tell if his feelings truly left.

Nevertheless, all of that would be forgotten at his second year in University. With his first roommate bailing on him at the last minute, Wonwoo needed a new roommate, and fast. Luckily, you were just starting at the same university, and needed a roommate yourself. So, without missing a beat, Wonwoo called up Mingyu and packed his things.

It didn’t take long for his heart to settle back into his old feelings the moment you two moved in together. It was as instant as fireworks popping in the sky. As soon as he saw your cheeky, gummy smile, Wonwoo could tell he folded. He was falling for you all over again. And when you began to open up to his conversations and accept his greetings, Wonwoo couldn’t help but feel bright inside.

There were moments where he couldn’t control himself, he was the first to admit. Moments he may have taken his secret feelings out of hiding for a little longer than expected. Safe to say, anyone could tell that Wonwoo was in love with you.

Well, except for you.

At least that was what Wonwoo thought the moment you began to ignore him. Began to build a wall of anonymity between you. Wonwoo was left at a loss. He didn’t want to lose you again. And that was why, when you finally kissed him, and a flood of emotions rushed in, Wonwoo had no other choice but to kiss you back with all the might in his being. He finally understood those rough kiss scenes in those dramas you loved so much.

An arm snakes around your waist as Wonwoo clings onto your frame, pressing it snug against his own. He felt bad for the once dry fabric of your bedtime clothes, rubbing against his— which had been soaked from the rain outside— probably wasn’t a good idea. But ultimately, it didn’t matter. A free hand cups your jaw, Wonwoo’s knuckles running white from excitement, thrill. It didn’t matter where, Wonwoo just needed to hold you. Keep you in his touch so you wouldn’t run away again. Wonwoo felt a set of fingers cling onto the buttons of his dress shirt, butterflies setting off in his stomach at the realization that they were yours. You felt the same way, you never wanted to let go.

…

Your lips pluck apart as the two of you take deep breaths, chests heaving. Your eyes hold onto each other as if they were each other’s source of life. Right now, it seemed like that was very much the case. After collecting yourself, your eyes dip down to your feet—the embarrassment finally settling in. Your head was spinning. Was any of this real? Had you just locked lips with the man you’ve had feelings for, for your entire life? Your chest heaved, heart beating rapidly in Wonwoo’s presence. In Wonwoo’s trance.

“I-I,” You stutter out, still breathless from the kiss. “I can explain!”

Wonwoo only chuckled, the deep timber of his voice rumbling in his chest. “What’s with the switch up? I thought you hated me.”

Shocked, you look up. “What? No! I could never hate you!” Your fingers leave his side, meeting in front of you, fiddling with each other. “I just… didn’t know what to do. I was conflicted. I’ve liked you since we were kids, but I couldn’t do anything about it because-”

“-of Mingyu, right?” Wonwoo finished your sentence. Your eyes widen. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. How’d you know?”

Wonwoo booped your nose with his pointer. “I felt the same way about you, dummy. Could you really not tell?”

Instinctively, you jab at his chest, taking note of how firm it felt under your fist. Jesus, could he be anymore perfect? You turn your head, averting his beautiful gaze. “You didn’t even tell me!”

“Should I have made it more clear? I was being quite obvious.”

Your mind wanders back to the past week, where various moments managed to send your mind spinning. They were all planned. Wonwoo wasn’t playing with you, he was simply showing you, demonstrating to you how he felt. And your foolish mind decided to run away. You were glad you couldn’t run far; running from him would’ve been a mistake you would never recover from.

You blush, though you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment, his flustering existence, or all of the above. You clear your throat, eyes wandering aimlessly. “So… what do we do now?”

“Well, if you're comfortable with it…” Wonwoo pulled you against his chest, both arms snaking around your hips. “I think we can forget about your brother for a while.”

You pick at your lips.

Wonwoo’s palm hugs your cheek. “Can I be your boyfriend, y/n?”

You smile, leaning into the warmth of his palm. “I think you already know my answer, Jeon Wonwoo.”

“Mm, care to remind me?” With his free hand covering your other cheek, Wonwoo teasingly pulls you in once more.

This second kiss seemed much more rushed, much more hungry. Your hands hang onto his neck, fingers gripping onto his collar tighter than before. Your chest heaves faster, breath hitching between each prolonged kiss. Wonwoo’s breaths grow restless, a low toned groan escaping his lips as his brows furrow.

Just for this moment, you could be free.

…

12 days. You had about 12 days of complete peace.

It was the stuff of fairytales. He was a fairytale. Jeon Wonwoo was the best boyfriend you could ask for. It didn’t matter how much you two saw each other, being roommates didn’t stop you from having such magical dates outside of your apartment. Cafe, bookstores and libraries, parks, you name it; he took you there. Though, your favorite type of dates had to be after classes, when the two of you would drive out to the edge of the city, wait for the sky to paint black, and have a late night picnic under a blanket of stars. Despite how much he loved sleeping in, he never forgot to make you breakfast every morning. He drove you to school and back, exchanged book recommendations with you, and knew just how to comfort you when you couldn’t seem to swim in a sea of blue. Jeon Wonwoo was a dream, and this time, you never wanted to wake up.

The only thing that itched at the back of your brain, that kept everything from being perfect, was that everything was a secret. To your brother, most definitely, but you kept a low profile about it around school. Or well, you tried to. But there were some days where you truly couldn’t resist sneaking in a few kisses in between classes. However, when it came to your brother, it was all a secret. It was safer that way.

A faint ping! jumps from your phone. You pull out the device. Your eyes graze the screen, meeting an image of a cat stuffie, and possibly the most gut wrenching message you had read. Ever.

Wonwoo <3 [5:30]: This cat stuffie reminded me of you, so I bought it ,,^._.^,,

Wonwoo <3 [5:31]: Baby, at least like the message, I worked so hard on that cat emoji :(

You needed to punch something. You were dying from his cuteness, all while the word baby stirred something in your stomach. You opted to reply instead.

y/n [5:34]: ur so cute, yk that?

Wonwoo <3 [5:34] Please use real words y/n

y/n [5:34]: it's not my fault ur drier than a desert >:(

y/n [5:35]: luv u <3 ill be home soon!

You close your phone. His texting could use a little work, you thought as the voice of Seungkwan perked in your ears. You turn to the sound of his voice, watching him and Vernon sit down with their trays of food.

“You could've gotten your food earlier if you’d stop texting your man for once,” Seungkwan’s voice by the last few words grew cold and sour, just like that overpriced lemonade he sipped. Your eyes reached the stars, a tired ugh leaving your lips. “He’s working on his texting skills. Let him live, Seungkwan.”

“Ugh alright, fine.” Seungkwan tipped his head back. “You’re lucky you two are adorable.”

“Dude, weren’t you the one who wanted them together in the first-”

“Who’s side are you even on??” Seungkwan whined, to which Vernon only cocked an eyebrow. Seungkwan jabbed his shoulder, and Vernon turned his attention to you. “I’m happy for you, y/n.”

A grateful response was about to seep from your lips, however, you couldn’t help but notice a glint of worry in his eyes. You tilted your head and Vernon continued. “...I really am, but what about Mingyu?”

You steal a sip from Seungkwan’s sour lemonade, wincing. “We’re keeping it a secret for now.”

“For how long, though?” Vernon piqued, tone laced with worry. “It’s gonna be hard keeping this up for a while.”

It was as if Vernon’s words sweeped the words from your tongue. He was right. How long were you gonna really manage this? Just then another ping! pops from your side. You check it, expecting it to be another gut wrenching, dry text from your boyfriend. Instead, you receive something much, much worse.

MIDgyu [5:53]: You’re coming to the game, right?

You almost spat out the lemonade.

…

Wonwoo’s head was spinning in agitation, and it was for a multitude of reasons. The cheers of the crowd, the squeaks of the player’s shoes, the discombobulating boom of the buzzer, it all rattled with his entire being. And yet, what got on his nerves the most, was that he was sitting away from you.

He watched as he fiddled with his thumbs; the game didn’t really matter to him anymore. He only looked up every time Soonyoung— the one he did end up going with— hollered at a goal. It definitely wasn’t hard to notice. At least someone was ecstatic to be there. Wonwoo, however, couldn’t quite say the same.

Wonwoo knew all the reasons why you attended the game separately, and all the reasons why you couldn’t attend together. This was Mingyu’s game, your brother, and his best friend’s chance to shine. It was too risky to even step foot in that gym together. He looked over at you, sitting across the gym with your friends, laughing at something Vernon probably said. And besides, he came to cheer him on as a friend.

He knew all of that, so why did his heart hurt just a little bit?

Soonyoung glanced over, curious. “You good, man?”

Wonwoo couldn’t stop looking at you. “Yeah, for sure.”

…

The night was almost over.

That’s what you told yourself over and over again. The only thing that kept you sane. Panic was coursing through your veins, trying your hardest not to slip up in any way you thought possible. You loved your brother, but this was getting insane. Your sigh evolved into an irritated groan as you came back from rejecting your 20th invitation to grab a bite to eat after the game. You whip out your phone, suddenly all alone. Why did Seungkwan and Vernon have to leave already?

Just greet Mingyu and leave. You can still meet Wonwoo outside.

“Hey!” A voice ghosted your frame. You turn around stunned, but you have enough time to compose yourself before the voice continues. “Y/n, was it? Mingyu’s sister?”

You smile, eyes curling upwards to hide your anguish. “Yeah!”

The stranger stretched a hand out. “I’m Lee Chan! Nice to meet you!”

You could only hum a response before diving deep into horrid small talk. Judging by his jersey, hair soaked in sweat, and a water bottle in hand, you could tell he had just played. Your mind wanders aimlessly as you tune out his words. He didn’t seem harmless, so it didn’t really matter.

“So, I was wondering,” Chan suddenly starts, and you jolt back to reality. “Would you like to go get something to eat with me?” He jerks a thumb behind him, where your brother— and Wonwoo— sat.

Wonwoo’s frame appeared in your peripheral vision. Seeing him so far away, paying no attention to you; your heart sank just a little bit. Though, it wasn’t the physical distance that got to you, it was the reason why the distance was there.

Why did it hurt to keep it all a secret?

You smile, trying your best to let the athlete down gently. “Er, no thanks.”

“Oh come on!” Chan fought, a hand lightly gripping your wrist, though your reflexes were too slow to pull away in time. He was really starting to piss you off. “Just one date?”

Your brows furrowed. Tugging away from him, but it was no use. “I-”

“She told you her answer, didn’t she?” Another voice piqued behind you.

…

“Your sister’s single, right?” Chan’s voice irked Wonwoo’s ears. The athlete nudged Mingyu’s shoulder before taking a big swig from his water bottle. “I think I’m gonna ask her out!”

“Sure, buddy!” Mingyu shrugged, slapping Chan’s back before watching his teammate strut towards you. Wonwoo couldn’t help but scoff at Mingyu’s response.

A spark lit in the pit of Wonwoo’s stomach. No, you can’t ask her out, asshole. A sigh leaped from his chest, attempting to cool off the sparks popping on his skin— though it wouldn’t work. Wonwoo felt his skin burn, the blood beneath it boiling. He tapped his foot, his eyes never leaving Chan’s frame—which made its way to you so effortlessly, so shamelessly. Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to leap out of his seat and run to you.

His girlfriend.

Mingyu nudges Wonwoo’s shoulder, chuckling. “Something wrong, big guy?”

Wonwoo’s eyes grew narrow for a second, but he quickly collected himself. “All good.” He muttered with a half-assed smile. One glance at his best friend was a reminder that shot him right through the heart.

You were Wonwoo’s, but he could never prove it. He could never tell him.

“No seriously, what’s wrong? You’re quiet, yeah, but never this quiet.”

Wonwoo looked over to you, towering beneath Chan’s obnoxious one. He watched you smile at him, chuckling at a joke of his that probably wasn’t even funny. His jaw tightened, his knuckles growing white under the pressure. It was getting harder to compose himself.

Your friend’s flirting with my girlfriend in front of me, and I can’t do shit about it. That's what's wrong.

But he could never say it out loud.

Chan throws a hand on your wrist, not seeming to let go. Your eyes, painted with fear, glance at the floor. A flame ignited in Wonwoo’s stomach, steam practically seething from his ears. His hands ball up into fists. He didn’t bother to take one last glance at Mingyu before shooting up from his seat and doing what he should’ve done way before; go see you.

…

“What’s your problem man?” Chan’s voice echoes in the now empty gym. Under the pressure of Wonwoo’s firm grim, Chan finally lets go of your wrist. You hold it against your chest as you, habitually, stand behind Wonwoo. Chan glares at the two of you, turning to Wonwoo again. “What, are you like, her boyfriend or something?”

Your heart stung at the word boyfriend. You grew pale, unable to respond as panic washed over your face. Your heart leaped from your chest, clogging your throat. All your measly body could do was part its lips as it turned around to face Wonwoo, anticipating his answer.

His name jumped out of your throat instinctively. Wonwoo stared down at the athlete, his words leaving as a hiss. “Take the hint, already. She doesn’t wanna go out with you.”

“Alright, I get it.” Chan threw his hands up “Don’t need to get so pissed, dude.”

Your world was spinning. Fear, panic, anxiety; it all overtook you. Your mind was in multiple places at once. However, you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit grateful for Wonwoo saving your ass— you weren’t sure if this Chan guy was capable of backing down. And yet, what you felt the most was the bitter taste of guilt; guilt for making your boyfriend feel all this anguish in the first place, making him keep the two of you a secret. After darting back and forth from the athlete and your secret boyfriend, your eyes finally stay on Wonwoo.

“Next time, think before you decide to hit on someone else’s girl.”

Your eyes widened, but you had no time to relish in your emotions as Wonwoo tugs at your arm, and marches out the door.

…

For the rest of the day you were silent. The air was tense in your apartment. The two of you uttered little to no words during dinner, and as the sun tucked itself into its blanket of midnight sky, the two of you barely gave the other a glance. You were overwhelmed, flowing to the brim with mixed emotions. You needed just a sliver of peace.

It wasn’t until you retired back to your own bed—the first time you did so in the days you two started dating—did Wonwoo speak to you again. You whip the door open, a little faster than you expected, and Wonwoo stands before you, head hanging low. His eyes finally meet yours, and you began to melt in his clutch once again. You couldn’t stay mad at him. He scratches the nape of his neck. “Can we talk?”

The two of you resume on the edge of your bed. He keeps a safe distance, only his pinky finger innocently grazing yours. “I’m really sorry, y/n. I lashed out at that guy who didn’t know any better. My own dumb feelings got in the way, and I probably ruined the secret. You have every right to be mad at me-”

As Wonwoo rambled on and on about how he was in the wrong, your mind could only think the complete opposite. After all, you didn’t want to hide Wonwoo anymore. You simply couldn't. Jeon Wonwoo meant too much to you, swelled your heart up with joy that you couldn’t fathom hiding him in the dark. With a huff, you finally come to a conclusion; you need to tell Mingyu. It didn’t matter if you’d come out the other end dead or with a missing limb. You loved Wonwoo too much to keep him a secret. Your mind couldn’t piece together the right words, so you collect his lips in a kiss.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t sure why you’d forgiven him so quickly, but the sweet taste of your lips were enough for him to melt, kissing you back.

“Do you think we could stop hiding this? Hiding us?” Wonwoo asks gently as he pressed your forehead against his, his voice toasting your skin. You smile, your giggles sending butterflies to Wonwoo’s stomach. “Yeah, I think we can.”

Grinning like a fool, Wonwoo pulls you into another kiss, his weight and the momentum of his movements toppling you onto the bed. One hand cupped your cheek, while the other planted itself beside you, pinning you against the bed. Your arms cling onto his neck, toying with the tag of his shirt as Wonwoo leaned further into you, his kisses leaving your mouth and trailing down your jaw. A warm sensation clouded between your legs.

His hand left your cheek, resuming at the hem of your shirt. After playing with the fabric, a finger slipped in; and then another, until his hand ghosted your bare waist. His touch sent shockwaves through your veins. Your breaths grew shallow as Wonwoo pulled apart from you briefly, his lips meeting your ear.

“May I?” His words didn’t reach past a whisper.

Face flushed, you grip tighter onto his shoulders. “Wonwoo,” You breathed.

“That’s not an answer, darling,” Wonwoo rasped. Your head was too heated, so you only managed to nod before Wonwoo snuck both his hands under your shirt. His fingers trailed up and up your body until he reached your tits. Wonwoo’s touch sent a whimper from your lips. Wonwoo twitched, his head dipping down to trail more kissed down your neck. His hands palmed your chest, pinching at the nipple sending more shockwaves to your spine. You arch your back, his name taking up your mind.

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo

The man taking up your mind tugged at your shirt, his eyes narrowing in hunger. You obeyed, lifting your arms as he pulled the fabric over your head. Within seconds, your pants also escaped your frame, leaving you bare, with just your panties on. Wonwoo pulls away from you, his eyes scanning your figure.

“You’re beautiful, y/n.” Wonwoo exhaled.

You pull him into another kiss, still hungry for his taste. Though it was also to hide your flustered face from his smooth words. You adjust your legs, brushing against a particular hardness tenting beneath his pants. Wonwoo groaned against your lips, setting your skin on fire. His muscles tense, and you send a teasing hand to palm his hardness. However, Wonwoo swiftly grabbed your wrist, throwing it above your head; holding you hostage.

“Not yet, darling” He grunted, eyeing you. “I’m not finished tasting you...” A hand resumed on your tit, making your squirm. “...Savouring you”

You mewl at the familiar words. He continued peppering kisses down your neck, then chest, and finally to your stomach. All while leaving bite marks here and there, claiming you. His voice rumbles against your skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about this. About you.”

It was as if your skin was a minefield, with how much it flared up at his words. You collect yourself, turning bold. “Shall we reenact your dreams, then?”

A glint of passion suddenly flared in his eyes, his hand roaming around in search for any way to make you moan. His lips arrive at your chest, and a hand grips onto your breast, lewd noises escaping your lips. You grip at his hair, which only fanned the fire as the other hand— which was already stationed between your legs— began to move. You didn’t even know when you had opened your legs.

Your core was much more than warm at this point. It was hot, steamy, pounding. But you couldn’t acknowledge it, not with your head spinning. Wonwoo’s fingers pressed further into you, playing with your folds through the fabric of your panties. Wonwoo chuckled. “You’re soaking, y/n.” He hooked his finger onto the fabric, pulling it aside in one swoop. He hissed. “And it’s all mine.”

One last whimper sent him flying off the edge. Ripping off your panties, Wonwoo slipped a finger into your folds. Your wetness sloshing between his fingertips. You let out a moan, biting your own fingers to contain the sound. Your head was spiralling, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Wonwoo was hitting all the right spots. Dirty noises began to bounce on the room’s walls as Wonwoo's fingers dug deeper into yours. He slipped another one in, spreading your core apart. You gripped the bed sheets, your hips gaining a mind of their own as they began to ride his fingers.

“My darling is so needy.” Wonwoo growled against your ear, making you shiver. His pace grew faster as your noises grew louder. With the pad of his thumb, he circled around your clit. You arched, the knot in your stomach tightening with each thrust of his hand. Your lips reached his jaw, peppering sloppy kisses on his skin. Anything to hold you down to reality. Wonwoo kissed your temple. “That’s it, darling. Cum on me.”

And you did. Your juices flowed out of your core, coating his palm. He brought his hand up, his eyes never leaving yours as he licked his palm clean; the reason why the warmth beneath your stomach never truly left.

Panting, you finally gain the strength to scan his frame, which was still fully clothed— much to your dismay. Your hands fly at his shirt’s hem. With his help, you pull it off, exposing his toned chest. You wanted to gawk, but you couldn’t bear to wait any longer. The thirst penetrating your core was killing you.

Impatient fingers tug at his pants— the tent beneath its fabric never leaving your sight. You wanted him, no, needed him in you. Wonwoo caught wind of your yearning stare, smiling as he unbuckled his pants. With one last kiss, he presses his forehead against yours. His voice reached back to a whisper. “Tell me what you want, baby. I’ll give you anything.”

You whimper, your sound driving Wonwoo crazy. “I need you, Wonwoo. I need you in me.”

Without thinking, your hips grind your raw core against his underwear’s fabric. Now, Wonwoo was the one filling the room with his groans. You felt his dick twitch beneath the fabric as he reached forward, getting a condom. A string of curses leave his lips as you smile at the realization that he was breaking his composure because of you. Opening the silver packaging, Wonwoo pulls his cock out, your breath hitching.

You gaped at his size, eyes darting between his head and his, well, head. Wonwoo’s fingers ghosted your core once again, sending more shivers down your skin. With the plastic coating it, Wonwoo lines up his dick in between your folds, the contact igniting a flame that never went out to begin with. “Are you sure you want this, princess? We could always-”

“Wonwoo, I need you to fuck me right now or so help me god.” You blurted out, catching both you and your boyfriend off guard. He smiles, kissing the knuckles of your hand, making your stomach flutter. “As you wish, princess.”

Wonwoo finally thrusted into you, his girth grazing every inch of your walls. Your back arched, a moan bursting from your lungs. Wonwoo’s groans filled your ears with each— painfully slow —thrust. Your walls clamped onto his cock, holding him so well. His thrusts grew faster, a hand dipping down to your core, while another hand landed back on your breast. He fondled your nipple, which peaked from arousal— a sight that made Wonwoo twitch in your core. His other hand began slow circles on your clit once again, and you were convinced you were seeing stars.

Sounds of wet sloshes echoed, but they were no match for your booming noises and callings of each other’s names. Your nails dug deeper into his back, as Wonwoo’s thrusts grew more sloppy. He dug his dick further into you, making you squirm.

“I think I’m gonna-” You couldn’t bother to finish.

“I know, darling. Let’s come together, hm?”

Another mewl escapes. You hated how respectful he was.

Wonwoo thrusts one last time, and the two of you reach your climaxes. White fluid pools between your legs, and Wonwoo pulls out. Breathless, he pulls out before plopping beside you on the bed. Finally getting a chance to breathe, you look over to him, smiling. “Woah.”

Wonwoo snickers. “Really? Woah? That’s what you’re going with?”

You punch his shoulder, though it was too weak for him to even notice. “Hey! Don't blame me, I can’t think straight! Someone just fucked my brains out, cut me some slack!”

Wonwoo pulls you in for a hug. “I love you, y/n.”

You smile against his chest. “I love you more, Wonnie.”

…

“Care to explain?” The voice of your brother echoed in your apartment living room the next morning. You and Wonwoo sat in front of the aggravated Kim Mingyu, who had just found out the truth after his teammate spilled the beans at practice earlier that morning. Your exact fear was accumulating in front of your eyes. You hated to admit it, but you missed your cheerful brother. He was loads better than this new, grumpy Mingyu.

“Just sit down, okay? I’ll explain everything!” You flare up, catching the guy’s attention. Slowly, Mingyu inches down, until he reaches your eye level. “Yes, Wonwoo and I have been dating for some time now-”

“Why didn’t you guys tell me? Why’d you have to keep it a secret?”

You heaved a sigh and Wonwoo took over. “‘Cause we knew you’d react just like this. I know its wrong to date your sister just because we’re friends, but…”

Wonwoo glances back at you. “I love her too much.”

He turns his attention back to your brother, who was suddenly quiet. “I’m not willing to give her up anymore. So, if you’re unhappy with us, I don’t know what to tell you.”

The room goes quiet, you and Mingyu both stunned at Wonwoo’s confession. Mingyu looks at the both of you before letting out a sigh. He then turns to you. “Look, I admit, this’ll take some getting used to, but if you’re that serious about each other then… I guess I can learn to live with it. Just, no more secrets, okay?”

Your face brightens immediately, jumping towards your now non-secret boyfriend. You grew ecstatic, jumping for joy like a little kid. You turn to your brother, grinning like crazy.

Mingyu couldn’t help but grin at the sight of you. He turns to Wonwoo, jabbing a finger at him. “I know you’re my best friend, but if you ever try to hurt her, I will end you. Got it?”

Wonwoo glances down at you, curled perfectly in his arms. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

…

#seventeen wonwoo #seventeen jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt wonwoo #svt jeon wonwoo #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #fanfiction #my writing #writers #seventeen #wonwoo #wonu #smut #svt smut #wonwoo smut #hinaaspanda #wonu x reader

[markiemelon]

hii! i just found out about your blog! i wanted to request something but i also wanted to compliment your work! you have the writing style that pulls me in so that i really read the story word for word (most of the time i just skim through the entire fic to just get to the ending lol) so thank you for existing and writing these stories. they feel like a big hug! keep up the good work, i will definetly read your work in the future and catch up on your other work that i havent gotten to yet!

as for my request haha, i was wondering if you could write for jeno? im a sucker for soft jeno, but i cant really find anything that isnt wayyy too cringey. tbh soft jeno is very rare i feel like *sobs*

~

like, jeno is a really cold boyfriend who doesnt really show his affection, and even when he does, he doesnt admit it. for example, when he prepares a gift for you, he puts it in a place where a lot of people can access, so that you dont know that its him. haha and then when you ask him abt it, he pretends he has no idea what ur talking abt.

the only time that jeno is soft and cuddly is when ur abt to sleep or when hes sleepy.

can u js write abt jeno being exceptionally cuddly one day in bed, and the reader is really surprised?

also maybe jeno confesses abt sweet things hes done for reader in the past?

if ur not interested, please ignore! i know i wrote a lot haha, sorry.

bye!

@dungiewungie you are the sweetest. im so flattered. thank you for reading my stories!!!! thank youuu!!! so much!!!!! ♡ ♡ ♡

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pillows

——————————————(.◜◡◝)——————————————

☆ genre. flufffff + no warnings

☆ pairings. jeno x gn!reader

{11:55 pm ~ ♡}

you and jeno didn’t live together, but somehow he always found a way back to your place. he loved staying with you. he loved the way that the pillows smelled of your shampoo and how your perfume lingered on the silky sheets…

side by side, you and jeno lied in your bed, heads sunken into your pillows.

“yn, why do you have so many pillows? we can barely fit on this bed.”

he was right, you did have way too many pillows, but you liked piling them up and burring yourself to feel cozy.

he tried to throw some off to the side of the bed but you wouldn’t let him. “noo. i need all of them.”

jeno rolled his eyes and pretended to act annoyed. he shuffled around a bit to get comfortable despite drowning in the fluffiness around him. the two of you lied in silence for a moment.

“talk to me.” he said.

“talk to you?” you answered.

“yeah. it helps me sleep.” his voice was quiet.

your lips stretched past your teeth as you thought of all the things you could talk to jeno about. you figured now would be the perfect time to confront him about something since he couldn’t really go anywhere...

“remember that time you got jealous when my secret admirer sent me flowers?”

“yeah… “ he said shyly. “also..i gave you those flowers.” he confessed, a bit hesitantly. “that was before we started dating so i was kind of embarrassed.” jeno rubbed the nape of his neck.

he avoided looking at you; he was just too flustered to.

hearing that made your cheeks light up. “jenooooooo!” you wanted to give him the biggest hug, but you knew he hated your cuteness aggression. so you just told him how adorable he was, and went back to drifting off to sleep…

“yn. come here.”

your head perked up as you gladly placed yourself the closest you could to jeno while still lying side-by-side.

“no” he said, “here.”

jeno put his arm around your back, and pulled your head to rest on top of his chest. “i meant here.”

you didn’t say anything, you just giggled to yourself as you thought about how funny it was that out of all the pillows you had to choose from, he was the softest one.

thank you thank youuu for requesting! i haven’t had much time to write so I’m sorry this took soooo long. i really hope you like it ♡

-🍉

#jeno timestamps #markiemelon #nct blurbs #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct soft blurbs #nct soft hours #jeno soft blurbs #jeno soft hours #jeno drabbles #jeno scenarios #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #lee jeno #nct dream timestamps #nct dream soft hours #nct dream blurbs #nct dream drabbles #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream #nct soft thoughts #nct soft scenarios #nct x gender neutral reader #jeno blurb #jeno lee #jeno x you #jeno x y/n

[allamericansbitch]

since y'all seemed to want this.... here's the live notes i took while listening to each song for the first time (bold are thoughts i had during later listens)

fortnight: 

‘i was a functioning alcohol till nobody noticed my new aesthetic’ what the fuck does that even mean…

love the fact she gave post the female collab treatment. don’t wanna hear what he has to say. 

they’re voices sound actually good together? 

some pockets of the melody are catchy

okay i don’t hate this 

ttpd:

her red flags are on fire in this song lol

this seems very half-cooked

also jacks weird mixing continues to plague us all

CHARLIE PUTH???? WHAT THE FUCK WHY HE HERE

tattooed golden retriever??? ……no way

my boy breaks all his favorite toys:

i blinked and it’s half over

this also is like… half cooked and didn’t need to be released tbh

i love the way she sings the second verse tho

down and:

the production does not match the vibe

did tpain produce this

i’m… kinda bored lol

like i have nothing to say this also didn’t need to be released tbh 

this grew on me a lot actually

so long london 

the production is so futuristic? 

oh im obsessed with how she sounds on this one

her talk-singing in the verses is great

honest lyrics without any clunky unnecessary metaphors! a win!!

the fast-paced verses with th slow chorus is really really cool

a favorite so far

daddy i love him

i can barely hear her? the bad mixing continues 

‘growing up precociously sometimes means not growing up at all’ oh yeah WE KNOW

is this…… is this about her dating matty and loving how people hate him… no fucking way she’s this stupid

SHE IS BEING THIS STUPID

‘it’s white noise’ yeah yeah that’s exactly how id describe him  

.... anyway y'all remember when fans really believed the little mermaid theory and this song was supposed to be about how 'joe stole her voice' lmaooo

we will pretend this one doesn't exist!

fresh out the slammer

are we getting another ‘i didn’t cheat technically’ song lol

what is this weird tempo change….

okay kinda catchy

it’s sounds exactly like you are in love at the end….. jack is really out of tricks

florida

‘my friends all smell like weed or little babies’ what the fuck is she even talking about anymore 

i’m sorry but i’m laughing at the phrase ‘fuck me up florida’

again the production sounds so detached from the vocals 

i honestly still have no idea how i feel about this one

guilt as sin

an real instrument?? wow crazy 

okay she’s kinda cute? catchy and fun, love the melody

i love when she goes up at the end of the vocal 

okay…. i don’t mind this one she’s catchy, a little too long and drawn out but cute

who’s afraid of little old me?

what is this production? it’s way too soft to be as threatening as they’re trying for 

why did jack push her vocals back so far when she’s supposed to scream…. that’s ruins the whole thing…. she’s supposed to be screaming and threatening….. not quiet and far away…. hello

this song is trying very hard to be threatening but it’s not... vigilante shit 2.0

‘you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum they raised me’…………… upper middle-class pennsylvania? 

‘i’m drunk on my own tears isn’t that what they all say, that’ll  sue you if you step on my lawn’ okay bar?

the bridge was good but that’s about it.

i can fix him 

…………… not another matty song oh god

‘i can handle a dangerous man’…… im too stunned to speak this is so embarrassing 

wow taylor really is that girl who like ‘women supporting women’ and then dates/defends a racist bf…. a walking example of white feminism

intersectional feminism found dead.... twice....

loml

okay this is really nice? 

I WAS ACTUALLY ENJOYING THE SONG WHY DID SHE RUIN IT BY SAYING ‘MR STEAL YOUR GIRL’ 💀

if we ignore that one line we're good this is good. im refusing to let that line ruin such a good song

i can do it with a broken heart

‘bitch smile’ why are there so many cringey lyrics on this album lol

what is this song omg why do i kind of like it 

taylor please learn depressed isn’t a synonym for sad 

they recycled the mastermind production 

wait till taylor finds out most of the entire world is sad while they're doing their job and has to pretend they're not

smallest man who ever lived 

oh i think i like this?

‘you said normal girls were boring’ GIRL AND YOU DIDNT IMMEDIATELY GET UP AND LEAVE??? EWWWW??? she's not beating the pick-me allegations

'i just wanna know if rusting my sparking summer was the goal' okay love that line

i like this a lot

the alchemy

no….. no way this is real

i cannot

THE SPORTS METAPHORS WE JOKED SHED DO THAT AND SHE ACTUALLY DID IT OH NO 

touchdown ✅ teams ✅ benches ✅ winning streak ✅ the league ✅

she’s doing…… the worst thing ever this is so laughable 

the corny lyrics are on overload 

‘this time it’s heroine with an e’ didn’t she write folklore? i can’t remember 

that literally was an snl parody of a taylor song

clara bow

love how the guitar sounds… bet money this is an aaron track 

a stevie nicks reference!! a win!!!

i like this one a lot no cringey lyrics yet

nope never mind she name-dropped herself don’t like that

overall really liked it tho

the black dog

i think i like it?? this is kind of what i expected the album to be

okay for once the weird production choices kind of pay off

imgonnagetyouback

kinda catchy? 

she loves a fancy car getting wrecked line

the pre-choruses are the best part 

this would’ve been better without the jack of it all bc he loves a song that doesnt build to anything

this just comes down to personal preference: i don’t like her lighter vocals with jack’s heavy production (ie most of lover lol)

the albatross

a real instrument!!! production that matches taylor’s voice and is well mixed!!! aaron’s arrived!! 

i think it’s solid, has good writing and she sounds great. that's about it.

chloe or sam or…

took me a solid minute to have any semblance of a fuck to know what was going on but okay

okay i love this one

wayyyy more emotive than like… most of the original album

a lot of the 2nd version (or whatever this is lol) are way more emotive, maybe because her voice isnt drenched in reverb so we can actually hear her voice emote better

how did it end

this sounds like an old school adele song? 

i love this one too…. 

her being upset people wanna know what happened but then also feeding it while promoting the album oop 

i love the story of this one it's so refreshing

so high school

THE PRODUCTION is so good ugh aaron never fails 

the man here is a walking red flag girl and the lyrics are ~not it~ but the production is too pretty to hate it

fuck these lyrics are so bad lol

maybe if i disassociate hard enough i can ignore the lyrics and just listen to the production and vibe

give me a karaoke version of this song and we'd be so back

i hate it here

i mentioned disassociation and she made a whole song about it!!!! this one’s mine!!!! 

‘without all the racists’ GIRL HUH

WHAT WAS THE REASON

also... girl don’t act like we don’t know you’re fine with that lololololol

if i had a dime for every time i was liking a song to then have it slapped away because of a bad, out-of-pocket lyric…… 

thank you aimee

this isn’t grabbing my attention 

oh the bridge is interesting 

it’s meh 

i will never be thanking the people that bullied me thanks tho

i look in peoples windows 

what do you mean aaron didn’t produce this??? it’s well-made and has instruments? 

i love this one, again a really interesting and unique concept that's very refreshing to hear at this point when a lot of the songs feel repetitive

the prophecy

aaron guitar!!!! 

she’s nice i like her 

i've really grown to love how she sings this one, the melodies are cool.. however i feel like we've heard the same melody.. like on this exact album... where she upturns at the end of every line...

cassandra 

this seems very…. familiar… idk i feel like we’ve covered this (i mean there are 31 songs we’ve already covered everything lol)

this is such an aaron song, that's a classic 'the national' piano

i like her voice in this one tho, sounds good

peter

oh love i love this

now this? THIS feels the most like a taylor swift song

once again she’s at her best with a simple instrument and emotive simple lyrics

the piano reminds me of champagne problems

the bolter 

i like this! the chorus is so cute

oh i like that ending line a lot!

she’s cute, a little long and drawn out but cute

robin

i haven’t seen anyone talk about this one

welp…. i literally have no feelings toward this one but sounds pretty! 

the manuscript

oh this is soooooooo powerful 

i love this concept 

her ending the album on another introspective album that sums everything up a la dear reader yep yep!!

if you actually read of this ily 💗

#tp #ttpd lb #kind of lol

[profectua]

》ＢＬＵＥ ＬＯＣＫ Ｈｅａｄｃａｎｏｎｓ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ; ɴᴏɴᴇ! ᴘᴜʀᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋ ʟᴍᴀᴏ

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ; ɪꜱᴀɢɪ, ʙᴀᴄʜɪʀᴀ, ᴄʜɪɢɪʀɪ, ᴋᴜɴɪɢᴀᴍɪ, ɴᴀɢɪ, ʀᴇᴏ, ʙᴀʀᴏᴜ, ʀɪɴ, ʜɪᴏʀɪ, ᴋᴀʀᴀꜱᴜ, ʏᴜᴋɪᴍɪʏᴀ, ᴏᴛᴏʏᴀ

Isagi: Back when he was younger, he had a phase where he would do the dab whenever he scored a goal. It could be completely outdated too and people would cringe at him LMAO. Might’ve also done fortnite dance (he doesn’t even play fortnite). His teammates try to go over and celebrate but he randomly breaks into the orange justice (he can’t even do it properly) so they end up just standing there like 🧍. Let him have his moment I guess???

Bachira: He was one of those kids that played with insects outside or something (speaking from experience) 😭. You’d catch him playing outside and there were 3 worms, each with different names. He probably gave them sad backstories too. The neighbors thought he was weird as hell. If someone pointed it out, he’d be like “Stop being rude to them! They’re my friends!” And he’d actually look pissed off, exactly like this emoji 😠. If he comes back to the same spot only to find that they aren’t there, he’ll come home crying 😭 🙏 Please help him.

Chigiri: He’s canonically a moody guy…I feel like he ‘decides’ his mood for the day ykyk 😭. If it’s a clear sky, sunny day, he’ll choose to be happy but if he wakes up and it’s raining, he decides that he’s gonna be angry. Always ends up breaking character though. If he's laughing and suddenly remembers that he's supposed to be angry, he’ll immediately put on a blank expression again like 😐 and the people around him think they did something wrong LMAOO. Like??? What happened bro???

Kunigami: His go-to pose for photos is the thumbs up or the peace sign and HE LOOKS SO STIFF. He’s just there like 🙂 ✌️. He looks so awkward pls 😭. His little sister is trying so hard not to laugh and he’s just like ???? What's so funny?? If he’s accidentally photo-bombing and realises too late, he’ll strike that EXACT POSE until someone tells him to move cus his brain couldn’t process it ITS SO SAD 😭

Nagi: Once, when he was younger, he tried doing one of those free robux application things where you play a bunch of games for robux and he thought it was legit because some youtuber did it. His parents were like “Seishiro what are you even doing” and he was like “I’m grinding robux mom, you wouldn’t understand” Like Nagi…don’t even get your hopes up 😬. Long story short, it didn’t work and he ended up with some virus on his ipad. He woke his parents up at 3am and was like “um…I think I got hacked ☹️” His parents WERE NOT pleased 😭

Reo: Had a little rebellious phase where he only used cringey Gen Z slang. In front of his parents too and they’d stare at him like 😨. “Zamn ngl this food is bussin’ fr goated no cap,” said young Reo, at a luxurious 5-star restaurant. His mom almost choked on her food. Probably got side-eyed by the waiter too. He didn’t even realise that it wasn’t cool until he found out that NOBODY actually says all that 😭.

Barou: When he’s eating other people's food or eating at a restaurant, he judges it like he’s Gordan Ramsey or something??? Imagine he’s at someone's house for dinner and then when they’re eating he has this whole routine. First he sniffs, feels the texture, then he examines with his eyes, and finally starts eating. You’ll tell if he likes it or not from his expressions 💀 He’ll start interrogating too LMAO. He’d be like “What kind of spice is this?” “How much salt did you add?” HE’S NOT PLAYING YALL.

Rin: Took elementary dodgeball SERIOUSLY. He’d yell at his teammates. Losing? Not on his watch. “WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?! IT’S DODGE BALL NOT GET HIT IN THE FACE BALL YOU LOSER!”. If he ever lost a game in PE, he’d start crying and throwing a fit, all while blaming his teammates. He would act like an angel if Sae was there though LMAO.

Hiori: He tries to re-enact cool moves from video games. Like if there's a character that has a cool playstyle he’ll literally hop out of his gaming chair just to swing a spatula around 😭. He got the sound effects goin on too, you can hear little pews and booms. Or if there’s a specific voice line from the final boss that he thinks sounds cool he’ll say it out loud (sometimes his parents hear and they think that he’s lost it not that they care though.)

Karasu: He had a huge chess.com phase, probably in middle school. But he was that one kid that goes ‘I wasn’t even trying tho lol’ when he lost (behind the screen he is SCREAMING in rage). ALSO He’s the type to be super expressive (kinda like Barou) 😭. You’ll know when he’s judging you cus’ his face will go 😬 😲 ☹️ 😧 🤔 in that order 💀. He could say something but his expressions reveal all there is.

Yukimiya: When he first got his glasses, he probably forgot them a lot LOL. Like he’d show up to football practice without them and one of his teammates would go “Yo where’s your glasses, Yukki?” and he’d be like…oh yeah. There was probably one point where he thought his eyesight was getting better. He woke up one morning and just decided that he suddenly felt like he had good vision again. It was all in his head 💀.

Otoya: He once tried hitting on a girl when her boyfriend WAS RIGHT THERE and he didn’t even notice. Let’s just say he ran for his life. His older sister has a video recording of it and uses it as blackmail. Worst of all he genuinely thought he could've ‘stolen’ her from him 😭 LIKE OTOYA NO. 😭

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #isagi yoichi #bachira meguru #chigiri hyoma #kunigami rensuke #rin itoshi #nagi seishiro #reo mikage #barou shouei #hiori yo #otoya eita #yukimiya kenyu #karasu tabito

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Millie Bright x Reader

Triggered (Rewrite)

AN: I’ve wanted to rewrite this for sometime since reading it back and it felt so cringey. As it’s about a neurodivergent reader I felt like it could and should be better. It’s mostly Part 1 that’s changed the most but I felt like it should have it’s own post rather than editing the old 3 parter, so I hope you enjoy. It’s been a nice way to ease myself back into writing too.

A ping rang from your pocket up to your ears letting you know you had a new message, hearing the sound your heart started beating faster. You had desperately been waiting for updates from your friend who had won the chance to be at Chelsea women’s open training session and was hoping he’d get something signed from Millie Bright for you. Millie is your favourite footballer but she has been out with a knee injury for months - hardly spotted at games or training as if she’s gone into hiding, but opening the photo from your friend filled your heart with joy seeing the blonde huddled with her friends. She wasn’t in her training kit but seeing her there kept your hopes alive that you’d have something signed in your hands by tomorrow. Your friend had asked you to come with him but you already had tickets for the England game tonight that was at the other side on London which made it impossible to be at both. You had hoped that if she wasn’t at Kingsmeadow she may had turned up to support her England teammates but the photo on the 6 inch screen proved she wasn’t coming. “She seems really rude (y/n/n), why do you like her? She’s not talking to anyone!” the next text came through, shattering your daydreams of finally having her autograph. “I don’t care, I love her! Pleeeease try!” you begged with lots of prayer emojis, keeping your fingers and toes crossed that he’d come up trumps.

“Here, it’s the last one” your best friend Mack broke your concentration from the text exchange as he sat down next to you, placing a hotdog on your plate. His mum was cooking a BBQ for your friend group before you left to go to the stadium which was conveniently around the corner from their house. Perching on the doorstep with him and watching the fans trickle towards the stadium you munched happily on the mounds of food piled up on your plate. Mack’s mum always goes above and beyond when it comes to gatherings, you had been eating BBQ food for hours yet your plate never seemed to be empty. She was the type of person who always left her front door open, her house was always filled to the brim with school friends, then uni friends and work friends. New Years Eve parties every year, Miss Gloria really knew how to throw a banging party! You and Mack threw some memories around while watching his mum pile more sausages onto your other friend’s plates, chuckling as you remembered her flinging you across the lounge to dance with her after she saw you sitting alone when you were younger.

The click of the front gate in the near distance drew your attention to the garden path where a very familiar blonde was approaching the house. Watching in awe as she approached Mack’s mum over the BBQ you rubbed your eyes to see if you were hallucinating. “Millie!” she loudly exclaimed, “I thought you weren’t coming anymore!”, looking to Mack beside you for reassurance that you weren’t going mad who had already upped and left, running over to see her. ‘What, the..?’ muttering to yourself in disbelief you heard them all chattering in the distance but didn’t notice her approaching you a little while later. You were spaced out staring into the distance trying to muster up the courage to talk to her when suddenly she was in front of you. “I’m assuming you’re (y/n)?” she snapped, breaking you out of your spiralled thinking. “Uhh.. yeah?” you replied, not knowing what to think of her standoffish behaviour, she always seemed so upbeat and happy that you just didn’t imagine her being as rude as your friend said earlier. Mack came running over saying his mum was out of food, glancing at the mound on your plate you offered it over. “I-I’m definitely not going t-to eat all of this” you stammered, still in awe that your idol was in front of you but confused with the interaction as you passed your plate over. She took it with not even a thanks and sat down beside you on the door step, beginning to eat like she hadn’t had food for months. “Ketchup?” offering the bottle that was next to you to try break the awkward silence that only amplified her chomping sounds. You felt the mood lift a little when she squeezed the bottle too hard it splashed over her plate in a massive gloop, waiting for her to chuckle at herself so you felt able to too. Squirming in her seat trying not to get it on her clothes, her knee grazed yours, “hey, hows the injury?” you asked trying your hardest to make small talk, “I’m not allowed to say” she responded bluntly, plunging the interaction into dead silence again. Rolling your eyes you let out a desperate sigh, disappointed with how the day went from hopefully getting her autograph to being totally disappointed with actually meeting her.

Glancing at your watch you called out to your friends that you should probably be leaving for the stadium soon, you were met with agreement from all of them as you gathered up the plates to wash up. When you collected Millie’s she asked why you had to leave so soon because kick off wasn’t for another hour. “I just like to know I’m on time” you replied, taking her plate to the kitchen as she followed asking more questions. “The stadium is only around the corner, you don’t need to leave that early” her statement sharp and slightly condescending. Your friends knew your autistic and adhd traits came out the most when you had a timed thing to do – like football. You liked to be there early so you could find your seats without the overwhelming amount of people staring at you arriving. You found comfort knowing you wouldn’t have to tell people they were in your seats and that you could relax knowing you were in the right place. You’d never been to this stadium before and new places trigger your anxiety. You couldn’t tell Millie that though, with the mood she’s in she probably wouldn’t listen anyway. “I just get anxious” you told her honestly, “well don’t worry about it, it’s just football” her tone now throughroughly irritating you. “Wow thanks, I’m cured” rolling your eyes at her ignorance you washed the last plate, expecting her to pick up a tea towel but she didn’t; truly cementing your feelings about the woman – rude and obnoxious! Maybe your friend was right!

45 minutes passed before you actually left leaving 15 minutes to get in and find your seats, you were now an anxious mess and on the brink of a meltdown. Millie lead your friends down an ally to a gate you hadn’t seen when you studied the stadium map online yesterday, falling behind as you rushed to find the tickets on your phone and missing the email containing them. “I can’t find the tickets” you said in quiet panic but realising no-one heard you made you become even more flustered, “guys, slow down! I can’t find the tickets!” you pleaded with everyone to help. Millie turned around and looked at you in a way that you could tell she was annoyed, “you’re with me you don’t need tickets, put your phone away!” she shouted but didn’t stop walking. Looking at Mack in desperation he shrugged but didn’t say anything. You’d never felt more like an outcast to your friends, they all knew your triggers and signs you were getting overwhelmed but it seems Millie’s presence made everyone forget them. You were so looking forward to this game but now you just wanted to leave and go home, everything was going wrong and it was nothing like you had planned for weeks. Millie handed over her pass to the steward as Mack watched you still frantically trying to find the tickets you bought a month earlier, clicking the lock button he gestured for you to put your phone away with no explanation. “5 yeah? All good” the steward said in a bored and tired tone. You didn’t have a clue what was happening but Mack linked his arm in yours and shuffled you inside to seats that weren’t the ones you had carefully chosen when booking them. To be fair, they were really good seats just above the dugouts but you couldn’t help feeling on edge knowing these weren’t your booked ones and panicked someone was going to tell you to move at any moment. Millie sat down next to you with her huge England puffer jacket encroaching on your personal space, hearing every squeak of the fabric against the chair and rustling against your body, you had never felt more uncomfortable.

Noticing you were stimming – tapping your foot making your leg shake and fiddling with your thumb ring, Millie placed a hand heavily onto your thigh making your leg stop shaking instantly. This meant that your anxious energy couldn’t be released and was getting blocked up inside you. “What’s wrong?” she asked sounding genuinely concerned, moving her hood so you could see her face. “Nothing” shaking your head violently trying to stop her from asking anymore questions. You were trying so hard not to have a meltdown and anymore questions might push the tears you were trying desperately to hide out of your eyes, you really didn’t want her to witness this. You’d looked up to the defender since you were younger and you thought meeting her would be a dream but today has been nothing short of a nightmare. She’d hit all your triggers without even realising you had any and you were really struggling to hide your contempt. “Just tell me” she said forcefully. Staring out at the pitch you thought deeply about what you wanted to say but it all came blurting out like a car crash of words leaving your mouth. “I’m autistic and have ADHD, I’ve never been to this stadium before so looked up all the maps of how to get here and where our seats were, I like to be early so I know I’m in the right place, you took us a different way and sat me in a different seat, I always sit on the aisle so I don’t feel trapped, the Lionesses are my special interest, I didn’t get to watch the warm ups or feel the atmosphere before the game, I hate being late and your jacket is so noisy it’s making me want to throw something at you!” Your words left your mouth in one extremely long sentence barely making time to breath, your monotone voice wasn’t raised just sad nothing had turned out like you’d planned. You took a breath and let out a long sigh, feeling a slight release of letting it all out and finally able to look at her. “I’ve been looking forward to this day for ages then you turned up and changed everything, it’s been a lot to deal with” you finished calmly and honestly. Millie stared at you blankly like everything you had just said flew straight over her head. You couldn’t help that you felt uncomfortable, your friends knew what triggers you and could have been more understanding to all the plans changing – one change you could have dealt with but this.. this was a lot.

“Do you drink tea?” Millie asked you after a long awkward silence, nodding gently she asked how you have it then rose from her seat, re-emerging moments later with a cup in her hand. “Sit in this one” she gestured to the seat she was in before which was on an aisle then passed the cup to you; instantly feeling a little relief as the warmth spread through your fingertips to your palms. Hearing the loud zipper of her coat she took it off without any hesitation and started to put it around your shoulders. “What are you doing?” trying to shrug it off, wondering about her intentions, “trust me, it’s a like a big safety bubble, put it on” she nodded smiling for the first time today as encouragement. Feeling the warmth around your body and the weight of the coat acting like your heavy blanket at home you sunk into your new seat, your heart rate slowly returned to normal and your eyes were no longer acting like dams for your tears. “I’m really sorry (y/n), I didn’t realise” her words sounded sincere. “Why would you? I have to work very hard to appear like everyone else, to seem normal. Nobody would know unless I told them or I suddenly snapped. They’d just see me flip out over one tiny thing without recognising all of the other things that had lead me to have a meltdown” you said looking down at your cup, embarrassed with how honest and open you were being. “I get it, I really do” she smiled, taking hold of one of your hands and holding it between hers on her lap as the teams walked out onto the pitch immediately making you happy again. It’s like she had heard you, listened and understood exactly what you needed - to feel safe.

Millie held your hand throughout the entire game, stroking her thumb along yours intimitently to keep you grounded and only stopping when England scored or to top up your tea. You’re unsure how she went from standoffish and rude to caring and kind so quickly but you wish more people you told about your neurodivergence acted this way when they find out instead of looking at you weird and ignoring everything you’ve just said - despite the beginning of the day, you had a good night.

Standing up and unzipping the coat to return it to her she abruptly stopped you, pulling it back onto your shoulders. “It’s okay wear it home, it’s gotten cold now” her voice a lot softer than a few hours ago and certainly more bubbly than earlier in the evening. “I can’t do that this is part of your kit” you giggled nervously, still trying to take it off. “Well I can’t let you walk home cold can I” she shrugged joking like her hands were tied. You argued back and forth at who would take the coat until you finally accepted the kind gesture, “I’m a hot bod anyway” was her winning statement which made you smirk, ‘in more ways than one’ you thought to yourself. Millie asked to walk you out but you didn’t need babysitting and suggested she go congratulate her teammates instead. “I wasn’t implying that you need babysitting, I just wanted to make sure you’d get home okay” trying to justify her intentions. “Well I won’t be home for at least two hours so you’d be waiting a long time” you laughed, shuffling past her to try and make your exit. Millie was shocked with how long a journey you had and had assumed you lived near the stadium as you were at Mack’s earlier in the evening. You chatted until your friends were ready to leave and finally asked how she knows your friends, questioning why he has never mentioned knowing the defender before now. Turns out her mum knows his mum from grassroots and she very rarely pops by, the game just happened to have been played near their house and Mack hadn’t seen her since he was a child. “I’m sorry I made tonight tough for you” she said, touching your back for reassurance which you barely felt through the puffiness of the coat. “It’s okay, nothing a tea can’t fix” you’d had a good night in the end, knew why you were triggered and was able to get over it quickly with her help. “No it’s not okay, I should be more aware of how my words and actions affect people” she looked down at the ground with embarrassment. “It’s not your job to accommodate me” you said bluntly still feeling like she was babying you. Before she could reply Mack called out that they were ready to leave and interrupted your conversation. You thanked Millie again for the coat but insisted you wouldn’t need it as you’ll be sat on a train, trying for the last time to return the offering but once again she stopped you. “Can I drive you home?” This girl just doesn’t give up! You had to put your foot down and raised your eyebrow in a ‘I’m so done with you’ way, “okay! You don’t need babysitting, I get it! Keep the coat though please” she smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes over exaggeratedly, your eyes rolled and reluctantly agreed to keep her from continuing to fuss. Holding her arms out to initiate a hug, you hesitated but hugged goodbye quickly when she called you out for leaving her hanging then made your way to the station.

On your second train of the night you were now half way home with an hour to go when your phone pinged.

“Did you get home safe?”

“It’s Millie by the way”

“I asked Mack’s mum to send me your number 🙊”

3 messages came through immediately one after the other.

“Good job you’re a footballer cause you can’t count!” you replied sarcastically “two hour journey I said, not one!” Sending a selfie of yourself, hood up earphones in and very obviously still on a train.

M - “Wish you had just let me take you home, you’d have been in bed by now”

Y - “Still babysitting are we?”

M - “No just checking this cute girl I met tonight is safe, that’s all 🙂”

Struggling not to spit out your drink as you read the last message you stumbled over how to reply. Was she seriously flirting with you right now? Settling for a funny but ugly faced selfie with “cute you say? 😂” to gauge if she really was flirting or just being kind.

M - “Don’t ruin your pretty lil face please”

M - “Although if any creep comes and sits near you that face will make them run a mile 🤣”

Y - “Didn’t work on you though did it 😉”

M - “Cheeky! 😳”

M - “Sorry again about tonight”

Y - “You’re gonna have something to actually be sorry about soon if you don’t stop!”

Y - “Honestly it’s okay, your actions after I told you speak louder than your ones before”

M - “That’s a nice thing to say”

Y - “Yeah you’re not used to saying nice things are you!”

M - “Shut ittt! What ya listening to?”

Y - “Nothing, I just put them in so no one talks to me, I need to hear the station announcements otherwise I get distracted and miss my stop 🙃”

With that she tried to FaceTime you but assuming it was a mistake, you didn’t answer.

M - “You ignoring me now?”

Y - “Assumed it was a butt dial 🤷🏻‍♀️”

M - “No I wanna see your face”

Y - “I’ve already sent you a photo!”

Your message had barely delivered when she tried to call you again, staring at your phone for a while before reluctantly answering; you wanted to be left alone to process the day and unwind from the overstimulation you had endured for hours but here you were FaceTiming with Millie Bright. What a mad day! “You don’t give up easily do you?“ was your opening line, “not when I want something, no” she smiled from the other side of the phone. Giving her a stern look with a raised brow you really didn’t know how to take her, what you did know is that her cheeky smile made you feel warm inside... It was either that or her massive coat still wrapped around you! She asked how long until your station and set a timer so you didn’t miss it which you secretly thought was adorable and incredible thoughtful. “For someone who didn’t want my coat, you’re still wearing it” she teased, rolling your eyes again as you leant your head on the window. She asked you where home was and said again that she would have driven you as she lives near by, you replied cheekily that your mum told you not to get into a car with a stranger. “Strangers are we?” her voice turned high pitch and excitable, “we’re hardly anything other!” you hit back. Millie wanted to change that and asked you to tell her about yourself, explaining that you’re exhausted you suggested she go first as your blinking slowed, you barely had the energy to stay awake let alone make small talk.

“Okayyy... I’m Millie, 29 years old” you were surprised at her age as she seemed older which she jokingly took offence to. You exchanged birthdays, star signs and talked about family - something that means a lot to the both of you. “I’m a footballer, as you know” pulling a 💁🏼‍♀️ face, “oh are you? I didn’t know that! I did wonder how you got this coat” you said popping the hood sarcastically. “Can certainly tell you live up to your star sign, your sarc is off the charts!” seemingly impressed that someone can keep up with her banter. “Your simp is off the charts!” you snapped back quickly. “Shit, is it that obvious?” her eyes widened in shock as you nodded in a ‘well duh’ sort of way. “So you’ve known I’ve had the hots for you all this time and you’ve just been knocking me back?” she asked as she laid down on her bed holding the phone above her head looking sleepy and adorable. Telling her you couldn’t let her have it easy, plus you didn’t know if she was flirting or just being friendly because she fucked up earlier, Millie assured you she wouldn’t do that but you reminded her that you didn’t actually know her and it pays to be cautious. “You were a right bellend and then went all soft” you said kicking your feet up on the chair in front of you, “I was just having a bad day” she muttered glancing away from the camera, “wanna talk about it?”. She spoke about her day at Chelsea, they sent her away as she’s still not fit to play, she can’t talk about her injury as it’s in her contract not to, she just wanted to be playing with the girls and is sad she’s missing out on the last England camp before the World Cup. Camp is her fave place to be and was extra sad because she’s missing out on seeing her best friend.

The alarm went off on Millie’s phone so you knew the next stop was yours, you thanked her for keeping you company but she wouldn’t let you say goodbye until you were safe in your car. Nobody had cared this much about your safety before accept your mum but you were still sceptical whether it was because she felt guilty for causing you to have a meltdown earlier.

“Are you home?” pinged up on your phone as you pulled up on your driveway. You couldn’t help the corners of your mouth turn up as you saw her name flash but decided to keep her waiting while you made your way inside your home, turning on the lights and pulling on your bed clothes before falling into bed. Sending her a photo of your bedroom TV showing Friends and telling her to let you know an address to send her coat back to.

M - “The coat was a reason to see you again”

Y - “Oh and there was me thinking you were doing it out of the kindness of your own heart”

Your phone vibrated next to you as she tried to FaceTime you again, this girl just does not quit! “Are you single?” she immediately opened with as soon as you answered phone and plotted to play with her a little. “Who’s asking?” you teased, “me, obviously!” she giggled, anxiously waiting for an answer. “Oh no sorry, I’m taken” you paused before laughing. “Yes I’m single, haven’t found someone who can handle all this yet. I’m not into girls though soz” struggling to keep a straight face with the lie you told. “I don’t believe that, I’m not the only one who’s been flirting all night!” her voice once again high pitched as she sat up in bed appearing more alert with the conversation. “How dare you insinuate such a thing!” your tone turning dramatic, playing with her. You chatted for a little while until your eyes couldn’t stay open much longer and started to drift off. Millie watched you drop to sleep before hanging up, for some reason she wanted you and she wasn’t gonna stop until she got you.

—————————

“Good morning beautiful 😘” was the first notification you saw when you picked your phone for the first time of the day to look at the time.

Y - “It’s been a long time since I woke up to one of those texts 🤭”

M - “I’m surprised about that”

Y - “get to know me better and maybe you won’t be lol”

M - “I’d like to, are you going to the game tonight?”

The text exchange had been non-stop since your train ride home a few days ago. You hadn’t gotten tickets for the England v Australia game tonight as the stadium looked tricky to get to and two unknown stadiums in one week was just a bit too much overstimulation for you. Millie wasn’t taking no for an answer though as she asked you to go with her and to meet at her house, she’ll drive so there’ll be no public transport involved. You said you’ll think about it but in typical Millie fashion she replied “it’s a date, be here at 7 😉” sending you a pin of her address. You didn’t reply after that, still trying to keep her guessing. Of course you’d go if it meant seeing Millie again, your head had been filled with thoughts of her since the day you met!

Pulling up on Millie’s drive and climbing out of your car, she must have been watching and patiently awaiting your arrival as her front door flew open the moment she heard the hum of an engine. “Nice coat!” she shouted from the doorway, “I’ve got my own in here” you called out to her when opening the boot of your car to look for it. “Keep it, it looks good on you” she winked, holding her arms out for a hug, kissing you on the forehead as she squeezed you tightly then held her passenger door open for you to slip in. “So..” she started after turning the radio down “I’m gonna park in the player’s car park and we’re gonna go in through the back door, they don’t show that on the map” - informing you of what’s going to happen tonight. It was admirable that she’d taken on board what you’d said last time and was trying to ensure that you would be comfortable. “I haven’t looked at the map for tonight, I trust you” turning to smile at her after clicking your seatbelt in place. For the first time in ages you’d agreed to a spontaneous plan and hadn’t researched it to an inch of it’s life. The conversations you’d had with her for hours on end made you feel safe, like you could rely on her to make sure you have a stress-free evening. “That’s probably the best compliment I’ve ever had” turning to look at you and squeezing your thigh. “Okayyy, what I’m hearing is that not a lot of people trust you so I shouldn’t?” jokingly opening the maps app on your phone. “No, stop. Obviously normal compliments are fine but being trusted feels better than say.. being called pretty or something” she shrugged. “Well you’re that too, I’ll see if I still trust ya at the end of the night” chuckling softly at the playful interaction. Both of you knew that the feelings between you were mutual and the days of pretending you didn’t were long gone.

Pulling into a space close to the England bus, Millie guided you across the car park towards the stadium, away from the hustle and bustle of thousands of fans making their way inside. As you neared closer her hand grazed against yours before locking your fingers together making your tummy do cartwheels. She flashed her lanyard and got waved inside, she lead you up the stairs and into a box, grabbing you both a tea and settling into your seats where she made sure you were on the aisle again. Eyeing up the line up together her head was almost on your shoulder as she leant over to look at your phone. The game was bleak, Millie watched you stand up and sit down every two minutes shouting support at the team, at a moment where you were sitting her hand found its way onto your thigh again “I love how into this you’re getting” she chuckled as softly as her eyes looked into yours. “I’m comfortable, I’m not like this if I’m not” shrugging at her comment. “Like the first game?” she asked, you nodded and explained how being yourself is harder when you’re uncomfortable then asked if she’s frustrated watching her team losing. “No, you watch the game but I’m studying it. Where we’re going wrong, what could have been done differently. It’s all learning. Yeah, it’s gutting but it helps us prepare for the World Cup… you carry on though, it’s cute” nudging her shoulder into yours. “My friends think I’m embarrassing” standing up again to watch a corner be taken, “I’d prefer you to be yourself” the defender’s hand grazed your back as she stood up next to you.

The evening was filled with smiley flirty glances towards each other and at half time she made her move, lifting her arm up and around your shoulders allowing you to snuggle into her. You reminded your date that the cameras would probably show her at some point but she didn’t care. This made you blush a little as you sunk further into her; with your feet up on the seats in front of you, it felt super cosy. The Lionesses came away with a loss, the first L under Sarina’s management. It was a tough pill to swallow as fan and player but you couldn’t have been prouder of the team. Losing made you appreciate women’s football, the crowd just accepted it and moved on. No arguments or swearing or violence - proud of the players regardless. Allowing the fans to trickle out of the stadium before making your exit, Millie held your hand every step of the way and once in the car park wrapped her arm around your shoulders again until you got to the car.

Her hand never left your thigh during the entire drive home and pulling up outside the house you were quick to climb out the car and wave goodbye, you desperately wanted to stay but suddenly felt awkward, what if she didn’t want to kiss you? You could never live with yourself if you were rejected. Heading towards your own car a hand clasped around your wrist, Millie was pulling you back towards her. “Can’t wait to get away from me aih?” she asked with a smirk as her forefinger stroked the hair out of your face. “No.. it’s not that..” looking down at your feet as your reply was muttered, “what is it then?” using the same finger to lift your chin so you were looking up at her. Her bright blue eyes and floppy blonde bun made you subconsciously moisten your lips as your eyes flickered between her facial features. This told Millie everything she needed to know as she moved her hand to the side of your neck and leant down to place a kiss softly upon your lips. Tiptoeing to meet her half way, her other hand held the small of your back pulling you closer into her, yours balanced on her hips as your lips entwined further. “Stay with me” escaped her mouth between kisses, your lips smiling against hers as small nods moved your head in agreement, faces still joined together until she pulled away to guide you towards the house. You’d had such a good night that you didn’t want it to end! Watching her close the door behind her you were quickly pulled back into her arms “I’ll have my coat back now” she smirked, pushing it over your shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. Kicking your shoes off she wrapped her arms around your waist and you draped yours around her neck, tiptoeing to reach her as your lips found their way together again. As she started to lift you up off the floor you broke away, “you shouldn’t be doing that!” concerned about her knee, “don’t worry about it” her voice had turned husky between kisses as you connected your legs around waist. She walked you over to the sofa, sitting down with you on top of her, hands on each others face. Pulling her bunchie out to release her wavy blonde hair made you smile more as it dropped past her shoulders. “You have a beautiful smile” she said tucking your hair behind your ears before kissing you again “I’ve been dying to do this since I met you” she whispered. You questioned her statement as she seemed so grumpy, she insisted that she was smitten the moment you shared your food with her. “That’s why I sat down next to you, I couldn’t have gone inside” she reassured you that she didn’t realise how blunt she came across, especially if you don’t know her very well. All that was blown away now as you felt her hands pull your head towards hers again, you spent the night getting to know each other’s mouths until you fell asleep on her chest. As she stroked your hair your mind filled with happy little flutters, you felt like you’d finally found your person, someone that took the time to truly understand you.

#millie bright #millie bright x reader #lionesses #lionesses x reader #woso x reader #woso masterlist #woso series #woso fic #woso community #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #chelsea wfc x reader

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | aizawa, part one.

Aizawa's route of soulmate trope.

Part one bc tumblr formatting weird. Part two here.

Warnings: BTS mention. Reader is explicitly a kissless virgin to make Aizawa feel Worse. Part one: reader gets a mild hand injury. Threat of dub-con. Claustrophobia. Sexual content, with virgin-y themes. Part two: alcohol consumption (not by reader). Sexual content, with virgin-y themes. Fem reader.

Remember that U.A., for the purposes of this fic, is a university. Lore dropped carries over to previous and subsequent chapters.

~38k overall. ~20k for part one.

You didn’t have a soulmate, and that was just how you liked it.

Because instead of being hooked to one of your weird-ass classmates, you were free to continue to harbour your crush for your weird-ass homeroom teacher, and you nurtured your crush like a stray kitten brought out of the rain. A creature comfort, really, this affection for Aizawa Shouta—a creature no one knew you kept hidden in the back laundry room and sneaked scraps.

You’re not stupid. The man has to stay your homeroom teacher for the rest of the year, until graduation. Besides, you did have a sneaky little goal with your crush, though it will probably never come to fruition. It’s not an immediate plan in which you corner him after class to beg for sexual extra credit, no, but it’s a long, onerous, masochistic plot of delayed gratification: sometime down the road after graduation, you’ll casually run into him on a patrol, casually suggest you two share a drink to catch up, and then casually I-miss-you-terribly-sensei-you-deserve-to-sleep-more-oh-wow-your-hands-are-really-big-what-if-I-place-them-right-between-my-legs your way into his heart.

For now, the most you can do is be the best student you can. Yes, Yaoyorozu is most likely always going to beat you in chemistry and some maths, since her quirk relies on her knowledge of those subjects, but you’re positively gruntled and satisfied with your place at the top for humanities, along with trading top spots in other subjects with the same three or four people.

But mostly, you tried to be 1) resourceful and 2) not annoying, because Aizawa dealt with a lot of teacher bullshit, probably.

So, while you knew about stories in which students would seduce their teachers by favours (sexual or not), lingering innuendo, or flashing lacy underwear from their seats, you weren’t going to do that shit. 1) How dumb, 2) how embarrassing, and 3) you didn’t want your (hopefully future!) relationship founded on cliches for student/teacher relationships. How a relationship starts shouldn’t have to be a secret, either, or be something to be ashamed of.

(Because you could just picture your family’s faces at Christmas if you said something like, “Hey, this is my boyfriend, Aizawa; he used to be my teacher, and we started dating after I sucked him off under his desk while he was giving a lesson.”

Although, admittedly, there’s probably no good way to introduce a former teacher as your boyfriend.)

You figured, for now, it was enough to stand out in a quiet way, never outright begging for his attention, yet somehow landing in situations in which you got it. You liked to think that Aizawa appreciated that you read when you finished your classwork early instead of talking to your friends (guiltily activating your cringey not-like-other-girls complex that you tried to suppress), along with being attentive in class in general, and you landed an unexpected advantage in Midnight.

Since your first year’s sports festival, you’ve been her sidekick. Well, first you were her intern, and then you signed on the next school year. It was mostly academic work instead of hero work at this point in her career, but you found you liked it and her. You tagged along to record events and complete evals and rubrics, and running her errands allowed you into the staff room, where Aizawa was often curled up in his office chair or on the couch. And hopefully, Aizawa heard good things about you from Midnight.

Midnight’s current project when not teaching or on active missions was rehabbing female villains. She was easy to trust. They tended to let down their guards around her, eventually, and it fascinated you the way the system treated male and female villains differently—

“Hey,” whispered Mina, hunching forward in her desk to tap you on the shoulder, “You got back from Sakura Grove Rehab with Midnight really late last night. Did something happen with Tainted Love?”

You shot a look towards the front of the classroom, where Aizawa was gripping the podium intensely in an effort to stay standing, and once you garnered he wasn’t paying attention to you (big sigh), you turned slightly in your seat to whisper back. “False alarm,” you said, shaking your head, “She used her emergency buzzer because she heard that BTS released a music video, and she wanted to see it.”

Grinning, Mina nodded. “Normal BTS fan stuff. Is a member her soulmate, or something?”

“Don’t you think she’d be dead by now if she were? Ito said—sorry, Tainted Love said that they’re all simply very easy on the eyes and that she’s a connoisseur of human beauty. But her ass is in trouble right now, because the staff’s pissed they had to break out the emergency procedures for that.”

“I don’t know,” said Mina, fiddling with her earring, “I think that’s completely fair. It’s, uh—girlboss, gaslight, get-to-see-BTS.”

You snorted, covering your nose with the back of your hand. “That’s the wrong order, and you know it—”

“Since you have the energy to talk during a lesson—” Aizawa called towards you, his voice sharp, and your head snapped towards the front of the classroom. “—then I expect you’ll be capable of a higher calibre of effort and example for the class in your stealth presentation today.”

“Absolutely,” you said, recovering and folding your hands on your desk, “I’m ready when everyone else is.”

Aizawa gave a dismissive wave and allowed the class to leave the four minutes early to change and head towards ground beta. You’d already triple-checked that all of your support gear was ready, because it was your day in the rotation to serve as a combat example to the rest of your peers. Your focus for the past month had been on stealth, so you were presenting on your findings—presenting through whatever challenge was posed to you at the hands of one of the faculty.

 Giddy, you headed towards ground beta much more quickly than your friends, who were still getting dressed. Since you’d be presenting on stealth, you had a good idea of which teacher you’d be facing.

Aizawa was waiting at the entrance, himself clad in full gear. You shot him a cheerful wave, which he lazily returned, and you retreated to one of the benches nearby and opened the book you’d brought along.

(You don’t want to aggravate him, and what’s more, if you talk to him before your challenge, you’re going to be thinking about your conversation during it. Aizawa will be more impressed with your performance if you don’t fuck it up due to daydreaming about his cock.)

Making yourself comfortable, you lay down on the bench, holding the book above you to block out the sun.

Aizawa pushed his goggles back into his hair. “You have a book,” he said (asked?) flatly as he trailed towards you.

“You have a sleeping bag,” you said, jerking your head towards the yellow bundle wadded up by the door, “We must both be relaxed about this presentation.”

Crossing his arms, Aizawa carefully leant against the door and squinted down at you. “Do you not see me as a threat?”

You tore your gaze away from your book to look up at him, tilting your head backwards to smile into his scowl. “Should I?”

Kirishima and Tokoyami burst in and broke up the conversation before it turned into something that got you off for weeks.

Once the rest of the class clambered towards ground beta, Aizawa cleared his throat and addressed the class about the challenge; he spoke with his back to you (and a couple of others), since most of the class clumped in one spot.

“Sero’s melee close-combat presentation yesterday will be a tough act to follow, but today is our first presentation on stealth. Bakugou, Aoyama—your stealth presentations won’t be following the same format, but take inspiration from it.” Aizawa stowed his hands in the deep pockets of his jumpsuit and shifted his weight forward slightly, his broad shoulders lost under his capture weapon. “Hagakure and Tokoyami, I specifically want your critique of your peer’s performance today. Be ready to give her advice. I will be the faculty member she is up against, and—” Frowning, Aizawa cut himself off, did a quick head count, and spun in your direction, his hair whipping at the movement.

Seeing you reading over on the bench (which you were still doing in what was hopefully a sexy devil-may-care, fuck-the-police way), Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose before spreading his palm over both of his eyes, heaving a sigh, and dragging his hand down his face. He then held it out in from of him and curled his fingers to beckon you closer. “C’mon; I know you said you weren’t threatened, but now you’re pushing it.”

You were sunshine; you were ease, and you were pushing it, for some reason. But you were feeling it, so you cheerfully trotted up to Aizawa, in front of whom you halted expectantly and bounced on the balls of your feet, hands holding your book behind your back as you waited for further instruction.

He cleared his throat and snapped, holding out his hand farther to confiscate your book. You shunted it towards him, and when Aizawa took it, your fingers grazed his—your pinkie and ring fingers just barely brushing against his thumb.

And.

And it’s a rickety, staticky, lightning-type thing, this wave of thunder that rushes through you, branching from where you touched him—a two-second, core-shaking rumble that only you can feel.And there’s an electric jolt.

Vibrant pink blossomed from the points of contact, staining the skin like watery ink.

Two seconds. Two seconds compressing what must be years and years of salient moments yet to come, and they—they all had him, Aizawa, in flashes of memories (?) integrating him more and more into your life. And you knew, in that shock and subsequent ooze, how it felt to be pulled into his arms and held like you’re something precious—wrapping around you while he’s half-asleep and acting on instinct, hunching and curling over your back to shield you from a backdrop of  a battlefield—the feeling of you two lying together bare. You heard the crack of his voice in the morning as he nuzzled closer to you in bed, the rumbling vibration when he growled against your skin. Felt a ghost of his fingers digging into your hips as you arched beneath him (rocking, writhing), sucking a small spot on your neck, kissing down your shoulders, your back. A shiver as he trailed his hand down the inside of your thigh. A prolonged kiss to your collarbone. The passage of thunder left your body sore, like live-or-death level adrenaline had just faded. For a moment, your knees were in danger of buckling.

Aizawa must have seen—felt—the same phantom sensations, because once a noise from the class snapped him out of it, he grimaced, tucking your book and the pink-marked hand under his opposite arm.

Ducking your head to stare at your shoes, you took a step back, overheated and too aware that the class was watching.

“Recovery Girl’s office,” Aizawa said, his voice rasping, “Now.”

You bolted.

***

You slumped in the sky-blue plastic chair in the patient area of Recovery Girl’s office, unable to shake the sensation of his arms around you. You shuddered and hunkered over, a wave of misery washing over you as the last vestiges of his warmth (?) faded. Fucking figures that the only time in your life you’ve ever been in someone’s arms is in a goddamn vision and not reality.

On the other hand.

The pads of the two fingers that touched Aizawa were blemished with the same bright pink as that dust you’d inhaled the day Tainted Love’s team had invaded, and the colour wouldn’t rub off on your hero costume when you tried. An evil sort of smile spread across your face.

You jolted in your seat when the door slammed open, the knob banging into the wall, and Aizawa stormed in, shoving one of two clipboards into your lap.

“Quirk incident form,” he spat, a plastic chair scraping against the tile as he yanked it next to (but not too closely to) yours.

You slid the pen out from underneath the clip. “This says it’s a soulmate registry form.”

Aizawa glanced up at you, already a few strokes into writing his name in the first blank. “Tainted Love’s team had utilised her quirk enough before attacking U.A. that a specific form had to be made. Nevertheless,” he said, finishing the kanji for sho with so much pressure that the paper ripped slightly, “it’s a subset of the Quirk Incident Registrar.”

Huh. You supposed you should’ve known about the paperwork, since you’re working with her, but then, you’re dealing with personal rehabilitation, not the bureaucratical aftermath.

Following his lead, you quietly began to fill out your form. Basic stuff, really: name, home address, current address (dorms), quirk, soulmate’s name and quirk…

“How would you describe our inciting soulmate incident? Are you only putting first physical contact, or are you mentioning something about the, uh,” you said, leaning over to see his paper, but he flipped his clipboard up against his chest to hide it from view.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Aizawa, finally looking you in the eye. His tight grip on his pen didn’t dilute the saturation of the pink on his thumb. “And we’re not going to talk about it. You’re not going to tell anyone about this, and I’m not going to tell anyone.”

Oh, he’s repressed repressed. “Not even my mother?”

He shook his head. “Nothing important happened today, and nothing’s going to happen.”

“That’s a shame,” you said, moving onto the next section of the form, “I was already picking out China patterns.”

He flipped his clipboard out enough to continue writing. “Don’t even joke.”

“Hey, it says I need your phone number.”

“Leave that part blank. I’ll fill it out once before turning both of them in.”

That little sneak. “Wow. You really are intent on having nothing to do with me,” you said, sighing, which he echoed.

“Listen,” said Aizawa, running his hand back through his hair to sweep it out of his face, “if you genuinely require an explanation, you don’t deserve to be in school at U.A.”

You crossed your arms. “Try me, sensei.”

Aizawa winced, scrunching his eyes shut. “Don’t call me that. Listen. What I’m about to say does not apply only to me but to teachers in general. No one wants to fu—pursue a romantic relationship with a student because we are tired. Teaching is our job. No one wants to take work home when you don’t have to. You want to have a life outside teaching, and in addition to that, I have hero work.”

“There are lots of books and stuff about teacher-student relationships,” you said.

“Written by deranged maniacs who haven’t been teachers. Sometimes, it’s difficult to see your students as people, let alone the horrific romantic par—God.” Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose again, his fingers moving the press into his eyes, almost like he wanted to gouge them out. “The only reason a student may be brought up in conversation in a non-school setting would be if that student did something particularly moronic that day. At the end of the individual day, teachers are tired of their students and want to slip back into being an individual instead of an educator.”

You pursed your lips. “I have yet to hear that you personally are tired of specifically me.”

“Let me attempt another approach,” said Aizawa, hunching over to rest his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers together, “As your teacher, I would have an unfair power over you in a relationship.”

“Hell, yeah, you would,” you said, grinning.

Aizawa turned his head away, pressing his mouth into his shoulder. “I’m not going to engage with you if you keep making comments like that.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, aware you were getting yourself in deeper shit the more you opened your mouth. “I wouldn’t want you to propose in Recovery Girl’s office, anyway.”

It took him a moment, while you waited by scribbling a doodle of your cat onto the bottom margin of your form, but Aizawa genuinely let out a hiss as he snapped towards you, his teeth gritted as his eyes flashed scarlet, hair flying upwards in an instant.

“You can’t make those sorts of quips around anyone else—at all. Nothing is going to—” He seemed to notice that you’d shrunken in your seat, away from him, your hands held up while you let the clipboard fall to the ground, and he released his quirk, mildly startled that he’d activated it on impulse. He settled back into his own cold, plastic chair and sank his chin into his capture weapon.

“I’m sorry,” you said, quiet and subdued, “Joking about stuff is how I handle it.”

“No,” he said evenly, stooping to pick up your clipboard and pen, “I knew that already. That’s how you show you understand the material in class discussions. I should’ve taken that into account.”

He held out the clipboard, pinching it by the edge. You won’t touch each other, this way.

You took it and clicked your pen, scanning down the document to where you left off. “There’s this checkbox I wanted to ask you about.”

“What checkbox—oh,” Aizawa said, his voice faltering.

Near the bottom. A single, small line and box, for the weight it held: do you want this form to double as your marriage registration?

You crossed your legs to prop one ankle over your knee and tilted your clipboard away from his line of vision. You checked it before he even answered.

“Yeah,” you said, proceeding to shade in the entire box, “Do you—”

His scowl cut you off. “Leave that blank, too.”

“Of course,” you said, drawing a couple of hearts around the inked-in box before moving on.

You finished filling it out before he did, and when he set his pen aside, he pushed on his knees to stand with a soft grunt, taking your clipboard underneath his without caring to glance over it.

“All right. The rest of class has been joined the training session that All Might was monitoring for Class B, and given the circumstances—” His eyes fell to your stained fingers. “—you’ll have to make up your stealth presentation at a later date with a different faculty member. I’ll have someone else grade your work from now on, so you won’t have to worry about my grading you more harshly because of this.”

Aizawa waited for you to nod, and after, he took a step towards the door. He ducked his head for a moment before turning back to you, saying your name under his breath. “I’m serious when I say that you can neither tell anyone about our soulmate bond nor do anything about it.”

Swallowing, you slowly stood up from your seat. “I don’t know how well I can do that, Aizawa-sensei, but I can promise that I’ll do my best not to trouble you. I haven’t been troubling you for the past three years, have I?”

“Not exactly.” Aizawa narrowed his eyes, his shoulders tensing enough that his mouth disappeared underneath his capture weapon. “Why do you ask?”

Okay. You can do this. You’re fine. You’re normal about it. You held up your hands, as if gesturing that he should brace himself. “Because that’s, uh, how long I’ve—” Been in love with you—no! Stop that. “—had feelings for you.”

Grimacing, Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. He’s done that more in the past hour than you’ve seen in the past semester. “Holy shit.”

“Please don’t—please don’t feel any fucking pressure whatsoever,” you said quickly, trying to backtrack, “I’ve been dealing with this by myself for so long that I’m good at it, so please don’t, uh. I mean, I—I live in my head; I live in my books and stories, so it’s fine and good and tolerable that I’ve never been in a relationship or kissed or anything; I’m used to it, so you don’t have to worry; I’ve been handling this by—”

Aizawa exhaled very carefully, his chest heaving in a controlled way as he dug his fist into his eye, rubbing it. “Are you telling me you’re a virgin?”

“Ah, ha. Ha,” you said, scratching the back of your neck, “Sorry if that’s too much information; that wasn’t the point—”

“You’re transferring to Class B,” said Aizawa, and he spun on his heel and sped out of Recovery Girl’s office.

Huffing, you seized the clipboards and ran after him. “Wait up,” you said, shoving the door to the stairs open after he nearly closed it on your face, “I was just trying to let you know I am open to a relationship if you want it, but I’m more than fine—” Liar, spat the voice in your head as you scrambled down the staircase after him, your footsteps reverberating against the grey-cinderblocked walls. “—if you don’t want anything to happen, but if you—”

Aizawa turned sharply to glare in your direction as you caught up to him, and when you skibbled to a stop on the same stair, he said under his breath, “Quiet.” His gaze followed how your hair fluttered with each of his harsh syllables, so he took another stair down to distance you. “Anyone on the stairs could hear you,” he said, resigned.

He crossed his arms, and you slanted the clipboards away from your chest for him to take them.

“You really didn’t know I’ve liked you?” you asked as he took them, “All this time?”

“It’s never crossed my mind,” he said, and he continued down the stairs at fast pace but one you could keep up with, “Like I said, students are a different category of person once you’re a teacher.”

Biting your lip, you followed closely enough to keep your voice down. “You never knew. That’s comforting,” you said, and after a few more stairs, you grinned. “Could that count as my stealth presentation?”

***

You would think that more was supposed to happen, now that you’re soulmates. More conversation, at least. Perhaps a conversation.

Instead, a lingering, bruising feeling branded your chest, as if you’d been kicked the night before, and often a stifling, smothering pressure weighed down on your shoulders until you could be in the same room as Aizawa again. Sometimes, it felt like steel marbles were playing pinball in your chest, the aches where they hit gnawing and settling into your bones.

(Your cat, your chocolate-point baby Dango, has been upset with the hours you’ve been sleeping away the pain instead of playing with her. Luckily, Kouda has been borrowing her some afternoons. You don’t know what he does with her, but you do appreciate very much being able to tell Dango, via Kouda, that you love her very much.

Kouda also has the advantage of being subtle when you lend him your cat, because cats aren’t allowed in the dorms. You’ve been secretly caring for Dango for over a year now, so it’s as if you, Kouda, and Shinsou, who brought Dango catnip treats, were partners in crime.)

In class, Aizawa interacted with you as little as possible, usually asking Present Mic to grade your assignments in his stead. He didn’t act any different towards you from the perspective of the rest of the class, you supposed, except you made fewer jokes and he fewer retorts. Instead, you kept your head down, reading or working on your Sakura Grove data for Midnight, and you were skimming by.

But sometimes you’d be doing Midnight’s paperwork after finishing an assignment early, hunched over your desk, when your skin prickles and the emptiness in your chest wavers for a moment, and you’d look towards Aizawa—either slumping over his desk with his chin on his palm or almost concealed inside his sleeping bag behind the podium—eyes half-lidded and boring into you.

When you look away, it’s as if he’s the one kicking you in the chest.

***

The Saturday after a particularly painful school day for you (aside from your fucking up in a combat exercise, Aizawa had been going down the line of those who’d participated to give individual feedback, and he skipped over you without hesitation), you’d planned to spend all day huddled underneath layers and layers of covers and throw blankets in bed as yet another snowstorm swept across Mustafu, but you jerked awake, completely fucking frigid, before the sun had truly risen. You blindly fumbled over the edge of the bed for any or all of your six billion blankets and felt none of them, and, making a miserable whimper as you cracked open an eye, you peered over the side of the bed.

No blankets on floor.

No…no little bedside rug.

Jesus, did you somehow kick your bed away from the wall during the night? Wait, where’s all the shit you have all over your walls this isn’t your room.

Something was pressed against your back.

Your life was over. You’re totally getting expelled from U.A. for sneaking into your teacher’s room. It’s got to be his—holding your breath, you slowly peeked over your shoulder before snapping back towards the bare wall. A flash of that yellow sleeping bag, even in bed—it’s Aizawa’s room, all right, and his back was pressed against yours, with only your sleepshirt and his sleeping bag keeping your skin from touching (unless he’s wearing a shirt, which, in that case, get sluttier, Aizawa).

In the case that somehow appearing in his bed overnight made him detest you, you elected to slither out of his living space without his ever knowing. You wouldn’t have any answers for him, even if he caught you, really, at least not this early in the morning.

In the vexingly slow process of getting out of bed without waking him up, you had the time to look around, not that there was that much to see; it was all greyish and sparse and didn’t really feel like a home at all or that he spent much time here, with the most significant pieces in his bedroom being the shoddily painted radiator (in heaven, everything is fine) and a desk with both a PC and a propped-up tablet on it, with some papers spread in front of them. But the layout of his flat appeared to mirror another part of the dormitory, so you bet the door to leave his area entirely was through the next room, and you’d be home-free.

What caught your attention, though, was a well-loved cat tower, with one of the dangling mice for the cat to bat at torn off the string and resting on the middle level. Aizawa must have a cat. Funny, since that’s illegal in the dorms. As you finally slinked off the bed entirely, you resolved to locate the cat to kiss its little forehead before slipping out of his room entirely. Cat detours are allowed.

Walking out of his bedroom, you first were hit by the pungent scent of brewing coffee and then by a cold wave of defeat. Across the kitchen counter, Aizawa’s back was towards you while he fossicked through different brands of sugar packets.

You could’ve punted that empty sleeping bag out the window.

You took one step towards the exit before he spoke, his voice gravelly from sleep: “Do you want to offer me an explanation before I write you up?”

Fucking stealth heroes. “I don’t have one,” you said, shoulders falling slack while trudging into his kitchenette—with an ulterior motive of seeing more of his place before being removed permanently. “I’m—I don’t know how I got here. You didn’t—?”

“Of course not,” said Aizawa, ripping open two differently branded packets and upturning them into his coffee. He turned to face you as he took the first sip, and you wished you could say that his eyes drank you in hungrily, or whatever, but you supposed that you have to get sluttier, too: you were just as completely and unalluringly covered as he was in his Purple Revolution sweatshirt and pants. “You don’t have any ideas from working at Sakura Grove?”

“Uh, no,” you said, “I’m not encouraged to talk to I—Tainted Love. It’s more like bringing her food and filling out paperwork for her craft requests. I am very much the middleman. I can—”

“Don’t.” Aizawa held out his free hand. “I’ll ask Nemuri.”

Nemuri. You’ve known, you supposed, that he was on a given-name basis with Midnight. You resolved to get him to call you by your first name, too. And then the thought came that you might be ruining something romantic between them? Based on every interaction you’ve had with either of them, you had no indication of romance, but Aizawa had said that teachers aim to have very private lives. Yikes. You elected to slough it off for now, because introducing feeling jealous of your mentor whom you admired very much would only complicate the situation more. You could linger on jealousy once you figured out what the hell was happening.

“Right,” you said, pulling at a hangnail, “What if this happens again?”

“We’ll put a stop to it. Simple as that.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “We’ll be able to prevent this once we have more information. Until then, just handle it maturely and without fuss.”

“And here I was hoping we could cuddle,” you said, heaving a huge, fake sigh as Aizawa narrowed his eyes, and you pushed yourself up to sit on the counter, swinging your legs. “This is the part where you offer me coffee.”

“Get out of my apartment.”

“C’mon, Aizawa. Or I’ll spread that you have an illegal cat in the dorms.”

Aizawa hesitated just as he brought the lip of his mug to his mouth. “I don’t have a cat,” he said before taking another drink.

“Come off of it; I saw the cat tower.”

“I don’t have—”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when something prodded your thigh; a lanky, tuxedo-patterned cat had sneaked up to headbutt you before you could notice, and it climbed onto your lap to loaf. It’d be nice if your own cat were this friendly.

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings,” grumbled Aizawa as he poured your coffee.

You flipped over the cat’s tag, the light catching on the rose-gold heart. “You named your cat Konpeito?”

“Eri named it.” Aizawa set the mug next to you instead of giving it to you directly—stubborn bastard, not wanting to touch you again. “Don’t make a scene when you return the mug.”

“You’re kicking me out before I even start drinking?” You tentatively gripped the handle and maneuvered the cat off your lap.

“You keep asking these questions that have obvious answers.” He gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t make too much noise on the way out; Eri’s in the next dorm over, and I don’t want you to wake her.”

***

You woke up in Aizawa’s bed again less than a week later. You’d had a dream that you’d been freezing, and the reason had been, once again, you were, since apparently Aizawa depended on his sleeping bag instead of blankets. You allowed yourself a moment of savouring the sensation of his back against yours (for real, this time, since the sleeping bag was snoring) before slipping out.

The third time, you left him a note to tell him to get a damn blanket, or else you’ll bring one of your own to keep there.

You idly took notes in Present Mic’s class, words coming slowly on paper while he prattled on. How come it was always you who was showing up in his bed? How come you always went to Aizawa, and he never came to you?

Your eyes flicked up to what Present Mic was writing on the board in skewed, thin handwriting. Had Aizawa told him the specifics? Present Mic had to know something, since he was grading your work, but Mic was also Aizawa’s friend—a luxury you didn’t have in this soulmate situation. Midnight would also be a strategic person to tell, from Aizawa’s perspective, but she hadn’t given any hint she was aware.

You drew a heart in the margins, and then you gave it legs. You made it walk off the page and onto the desk, colouring it in by crosshatching. If only you could get up and leave. Class without Aizawa dragged nowadays; where did he spend his time during school on break? Probably huddled in his sleeping bag in a slant of sunlight like a damn cat, maybe out on the grounds where he couldn’t be found. Or maybe he fucked off to a gym closet where the mats were; they’d be cosier than sleeping directly on the floor. And you could cosy up next to him, pressed up against each other in that snug—

You slammed into a wall of solid muscle, papers flying and tea spilling over the tile to seep into the rug in the teachers’ lounge, and you sprawled on your knees in the midst of it in your haste to get the fuck off of Aizawa before he could say anything, hissing as you tentatively raised your hand from the wet, broken cup. Despite the slivers of pottery in your palm, you one-handedly fumbled for the papers that had been dropped—third year evals, now crimped and tinted a yellow-green.

Aizawa took the papers, tapped the bottom to align them, and gave them a firm shake to flick off excess tea, and when you started to sweep the broken cup into your hands, he stopped you.

“Go to the faculty bathroom,” he said, pointing to the connecting lavatory, “I’ll be there in a minute with a first-aid kit.”

You had a moment to yourself in the clean, warmly-lit bathroom, so you pushed yourself up on the green marble by the farthest sink and crossed your legs, ensuring your shoes didn’t dirty anything. The pain’s setting in, but you won’t cry, not in front of him, and you’re crying, but just a bit, right? Fuck.

At the sound of the door, you hastily wiped your nose with your sleeve and did your best to look stoic, like pottery in your hand happened every day. But your eyes were too watery to even see the tweezers as he dug them out of the kit.

Standing in front of the sink, Aizawa clicked the tweezers twice (carcinisation, baby!) and held out his other hand.

You looked at it. “What do you want me to do with that?”

He said your name through a sort of scoff, which would’ve been way hotter if it had been your given name and also in bed. “Just give me your hand.”

Tears ran down your face in an overflow. “You wanna touch me?” you asked, sniffing.

“Fucking hell,” Aizawa said under his breath, “At least I know you’re all right if you’re still joking.” He shifted his jaw, scanning your palm. “If you’d rather have it at an uncomfortable angle over the sink—”

“No! No, I wanna—I wanna touch you,” you said, and you lifted your shaky, injured hand for Aizawa to hold steady. The instant his fingers cradled the back of your hand, everything fell into place: touching him was like breathing in cool, crisp air on a clear night or the smoky kindling of a fire that never goes out, like feeling sunshine on bare shoulders on a spring day with freshly cut grass, like walking into your childhood home’s kitchen when someone’s baked chocolate-chip cookies, like breathing in, like breathing, and—

You lifted your hand just a hair from his hand.

You have a stopped-up nose.

You glanced at Aizawa, whose lips were parted, his chest visibly heaving underneath his baggy jumpsuit. “Did you…?”

He ran his tongue over his lower lip. “I need to get the pottery out of your hand as soon as possible.”

Bracing yourself, you rested your hand in his again, and that irresistible warmth swept over you again. He’s got to be feeling it, too, so why isn’t he reacting? You’re embarrassing yourself, so why can’t he?

“Were you trying to teleport to me earlier?” he asked (distracting you from the sensation of each shard being plucked from your skin), head bent over the sink and your hand.

“No, I never—I don’t intend anything. But now that we’ve seen it, we at least know it’s not a gradual thing. Instantaneous and painless. Well,” you said, nodding towards your hand.

“Nor, I see, is it limited to my bed,” he said, shifting over when you uncrossed your legs, “What were you doing before the jump?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. I was in class.” You dangled your legs off the side to get closer to him (for medical purposes of course), and wow, Aizawa smelled incredible—probably; your stuffy nose wasn’t doing you any favours—what the hell kind of soap did he use?

 “Were you thinking of anything in particular? The bond?”

That’s got to be pine, and there’s something earthy mixed in. You really needed to blow your nose (Can you even name earthy scents? [Dirt?] You’re not up-to-date with masculine scents; you’ll have to find his deodorant next time you wake up in his room). “I was—” You cut yourself off with a hiss as he pulled the largest shard out. “I’m fine. It’s not that bad, really. Keep going. I don’t really remember the specifics of what I was thinking about, but I—” You cut yourself off again, this time with heavy realisation. “Goddammit. I was feeling the acute loneliness hollow out my chest again, and I was wanting to—be near you. Which explains why I’ve been teleporting to you instead of you coming to me.”

“It explains nothing,” said Aizawa, and he set the tweezers next to the shards on the edge of the sink and flipped on the faucet, guiding your hand under the water and reaching for the gauze.

“Yes, it does,” you said, openly wiping your nose on the back of your sleeve, because fuck it, this man didn’t care about you, so be gross around him. “If the teleporting is triggered by intense longing to be close to the other person, then it makes total sense that I’d be the only one teleporting, since I’m the only one who has feelings.”

“It explains nothing,” he said again, drying off your hand, “It’s only a possible contributing factor to the teleportation. Maybe it has to do with location, or timing, or action. It’s highly improbable that this physical action was caused by thought alone.” Aizawa ripped off a long strip of gauze and began to wrap it around your palm. “Don’t feel like this is a weakness on your part. I’ll probably teleport to you before the month is out.”

You let your fingers relax, your pinkie falling enough to graze his own hands as he bandaged yours. The more skin-to-skin contact you had, the more serene you felt—or maybe it was the injury adrenaline wearing off. Either way, you might fall asleep on the bathroom counter. “My bed isn’t big enough for two people.”

“That’s okay,” said Aizawa, and he slowed at the final wrap-around, holding it in place until he found the metal clips in the first aid box. “I’ve gotten very used to sleeping in odd places.”

When he stepped away to pack up the kit, you fucking whimpered on impulse at the loss of physical contact, and he froze, stuck in the motion of clicking the box shut.

“Sorry,” you said, sniffing.

His jaw tensing, Aizawa shook his head. “You should go to bed early tonight. Don’t overexert yourself.”

***

Yeah, except it’s Friday, and Jirou has been arranging this girls’ night for two weeks now.

Apparently, the karaoke bar you’re going to overheats really easily, since it’s in a refurbished building that used to be something-or-other; you’re not really listening to the explanation but were more concerned with having to wear summer clothes while it’s snowing out. The past two weeks have been strategic outfit layering plans from the lot of you, most of which have devolved into being silly and impractical (ranging from “I’ll just take off my skin and hang around in my bones when we get there” to “I will walk out of this dorm in a sleeping bag over my underwear” [the latter reminding you of Aizawa, in a pleasing, warm thought that you had to keep to yourself]).

Either way. Twisting over your shoulder, you strained to tuck in your bra so that it wouldn’t show from a mostly backless spaghetti-strap that you ended up borrowing from Uraraka, and once it was kind of hidden, you stuck your tongue into your cheek. It didn’t really sit right with you to be going out in this shit in this icy weather. You’d be a lot warmer and probably a lot more content if you peeled off these Best Jeanist jean shorts (from the Moulded to Your Ass line, unofficially titled) and crawled into your pyjamas and bed.

In the corner of your eye, your bed beckoned, with all of its blankets and stuffed animals (for when you just need to hold a little guy). What if you ditched the outing and—no. Stop that. You’ll be warm soon enough.

But with an abrupt lurch towards your bed, you found yourself spluttering into the scalding spray of a showerhead, water dribbling into your mouth between gasps and sloshing down your body. Blindly, you took a step backwards out of the cascade, but a flattened palm on the bare skin of your back stopped you before you could move farther.

“Don’t.”

The water still gushed and flowed over you, eyes scrunched tight and heart pounding. The hand on your back maximised the space between the two of you, but with the pathetic size of the shower stall, his body heat still seeped into your skin, complemented by rising steam. There’s a quiet grunt when he knocked against the frosted glass door; his shoulders must be wide enough for that to happen frequently (you swallow against a dry throat, because the man could hold all of you). If he wanted to, Aizawa, the way he has you now, could press his lips to the crown of your head, keeping his mouth there as his eyes flutter shut.

Instead, Aizawa was reaching up to tilt the showerhead away, giving you a good face-full of his bicep, and your eyes followed its movement (his jumpsuit did an excellent job of concealing a fucking powerfully built form), straining as he twisted the showerhead and relaxing as it fell back into place at his side—

“Eyes up,” said Aizawa, using his first two fingers to guide your chin back to face your front, where they lingered for a moment to tap against your jaw to ensure you’d stay there.

(With the shock of getting wet and the heat of his hand flat against your back [still there, still flooding you with an intoxicating headiness], you’d been entirely too overwhelmed to even consider catching a glimpse of his dick.)

“Aizawa-sensei—”

“Cut that out,” he said, huffing, “You’re doing this on purpose.”

For once, you’re out of the loop. But since you’re in his shower, you could take a moment to locate his soap to put a name to what he smells like and perhaps get a look at his cock along the way. Only his washcloth hung over the faucet in front of you, so you moved to turn slightly as you spoke, ducking your head to scan for shampoo bottles: “Earlier today you were saying it wasn’t my—”

Hissing, Aizawa slid two fingers through one of your belt loops and yanked, jerking you backwards into his hips for an instant before establishing that space between you again—pulling you by the belt loop blocked your view of his cock, and his hand on your back kept you from touching him in any meaningful way. But he was still as close as he could be without touching you otherwise, his breath as searing as the steam as he grumbled into your ear: “Bad girl.”

The water splashing at your feet wasn’t so hot anymore.

Aizawa tugged at your belt loop again (for a moment, when a swish of cool air washed down your ass, you worried that he’d look) and kept you in front of himself as he turned sideways to face the shower door, which he (fuck!) lifted his hand from your back to prod open.

Light flushed into the stall, and he scoffed. “I knew it,” Aizawa said, bitterness creeping into his voice, and he unlooped his finger from your belt loop to tap the fabric firmly, nudging you forward.

“Knew what?” you asked, spinning on your heel the moment you were out of the shower, water flying, and Aizawa ducked behind the frosted glass with a defeated expression. “Right,” you said, grabbing the thick towel on the toilet and tossing it to him.

“Check your fingertips.”

Tearing your gaze from his frosted-glass impression of wrapping the towel around his waist, you held up your hands. “They look fine. My bandages are soaked, though, so I’ll have to redo—oh, okay, fuck. My soulmark is gone.” You’re not going to cry in front of him, and definitely not twice in one day, because that’d be—

“Sensei,” you said, choking up and curling your shaky fingers into an even shakier fist, “Sensei, my soulmark is—I don’t want my soulmark to be gone, fucking, I—” On accident, you slammed your elbow into the glass door when you were trying to—please get closer (so goddammit, if your eyes water, it’s from hitting your funny bone). “I don’t want my soulmark to disappear; I adore you and want—”

“It hasn’t disappeared,” Aizawa said softly as he stepped out of the shower, gripping his towel in addition to the firm knot, and he pointed behind you towards the mirror.

While Aizawa eased down onto the closed toilet to towel-dry his hair, you took the four, wet steps to the sink and wiped off the clouded steam. No difference in your reflection.

When you shot a baffled look towards Aizawa, he gently raised his eyebrows and his finger to twirl it once. So, you turned around to look over your shoulder at your back, where his pink handprint put all body glitter to shame in how well it reflected the overhead light and in how quickly it was spreading (ink leaking outside of the handprint in watery bursts before slowing, never detracting from the shape of his hand, though the ink seemed to rise more than fall, especially near his middle and ring fingers between your shoulder blades).

He was holding up his newly pink palm, wiggling his fingers in your direction.

You returned to him (really to stand on the bathmat, since you’re drenching his floor) and raised your hand to touch him, first glancing at him for his approval. Aizawa looked at your hand and back at you, and after he wetted his lips, he nodded and got back to towel-drying his hair.

You hesitated. Is this really so nonchalant, so trivial to him? It’s everything to you.

You dropped your hand to your side, mouth twitching. “What shampoo do you fucking use.”

“Hm?” He didn’t even look at you.

“You smell fucking good all the time. What’s. What scent is your soap,” you were saying, in the same, flat tone you’d use to argue with your landlord about finally fixing your leaky roof after two years.

Aizawa squeezed water out of the last of his hair and spoke in that infuriatingly gravelly, just-woke-up voice of his. “It’s sandalwood.”

Sandalwood. That’s earthy, you guessed. “Then where’s the pine come from?”

“That would be the aftershave,” he said, folding the hair towel in half twice and setting it aside, “You were going to touch me, but now you’re upset. Care to explain?”

You plucked at your wet shirt before crossing your arms over it. “Does this matter to you? The soulmate thing.”

“You matter to me,” he said, standing with a quiet grunt, “Let’s get you reasonably dry before going back to your dorm.”

“Oh, shut up with that teacher bullshit,” you said, following him to a cabinet, “You care about me through the lens of a student, because everyone in this fucking dorm is your—fuck, I’m. You’re insufferable.”

“I can’t lend you clothes, but I should have enough large towels to keep you warm.” Aizawa reached for the top shelf, with beach towels. “However, I recommend against going out tonight with the rest of your friends.” He handed you a new-looking, blue-pineappled towel.

You angrily wrapped it around you, pissed that you instantly felt better. “Oh, is it because you’ve gotten me wet—” Aizawa draped another towel around your shoulders, tucking it in a little to secure it. “—and going out into this fucking ass iceberg weather would get me sick—” Another towel, this one with Present Mic’s radio show logo on it. “—and then I’d have to miss one of your precious days of class—”

“Is that what you want me to say?” He arranged two more towels around you at once, tying the outermost one in a knot. “Or are you waiting to hear that I want you to hide away while you bear my mark?” He tugged your drapery down a smidge so that you could use your arms a bit—at the least, use your key to your room. “When in reality,” he said, taking a step backward and appraising his handiwork, “I want you to be comfortable and content. And I don’t think you’d be either if you went out after this, even if you got ready again.”

Goddammit.

“And you’ve had a long day with strange revelations. You have a new injury. Going to bed for the night will facilitate healing. Your body will have more time to process the day.”

Groaning, you said, “Fuck you for being right.”

“Thanks.”

Since you hadn’t touched him earlier, you took the opportunity to clonk your forehead against his chest (dense muscle was evidently comfy). The soulmark warmth blossomed throughout your body from the spot, and you took your time to appreciate it, taking a couple of unhurried breaths against his skin, dry save for some stray running droplets.

Aizawa sighed, the planes of his chest rising and falling under your close and thirsty scrutiny. “This counts, y’know. As staying up late.” If you hadn’t seen him put his hand on your arm, you wouldn’t’ve known, due to the thickness of the towels. “I told you to go to bed.”

You blearily looked up at him. “Take me there, then.”

After a moment, Aizawa said, “I have to feed my cat,” and he opened the bathroom door to escape. Before he left, he spun back around, and you would’ve sworn he was fighting a smile, if you hadn’t known how he felt about you.

“But first,” he said, “let me fix that forehead situation of yours.”

***

Picking up the folders from the office mailbox, you flipped out the flag for read/empty and trailed back to the office space that you and Midnight shared at Sakura Grove, idly waving to some co-workers as you flipped through the files. Pushing the door open with your foot, you dropped the folders onto Midnight’s desk and hurried over to lift the shaking electric kettle from the heat, since Midnight was too absorbed into her patient evaluation at which she was typing away.

You poured the boiling water the round teabag, watched it rise to the top of Midnight’s teacup, and bit back a cry—you clutched the chilled windowsill to stay standing, struck by an overwhelming dizziness that blacked out the edges of your vision and crept to darken it entirely; a bowling ball has just hit your chest and dropped to your toes, the ache reverberating through your veins as you caved and doubled over, nausea settling into your gut.

Through the dots clouding your vision, you barely make out Midnight stretching her arms over her head.

These attacks have been happening more and more. If Aizawa can have a friend in the know, so can you.

“Kayama-sensei,” you managed to croak, but she didn’t hear you.

You tried again, and she turned, her expression drooping when she saw you. “Is the tea that bad?”

Eventually, Midnight helped you into your seat across from hers with your own cup of tea, the pain draining away in the process of vague explanation.

“So, you genuinely think you’re starting to die because your soulmate won’t acknowledge you romantically. Easy solution in sight,” she said, picking her teacup up by her fingertips to breathe in the steam, “Just pick out some nice lingerie—you can use my sponsor discount for Wacoal—and arch your back when you lie in his bed for him to find. I can give you some tips on how to suck—”

“Kayama-sensei,” you said, your vision finally back to normal, “You do not understand how much I can’t do that.”

Her tongue flicked into her cup, testing the heat. “I’ll bite. Why not?”

“My soulmate is, um.” You frowned into your tea. “I’ve liked my soulmate for a long, long time. Before the soulmate stuff existed.”

Midnight ran her tongue over her lips, the corners quirking upwards. “So? All the more reason to make your feelings known and emphasised, now that you have an excuse for a legitimate relationship. Since he already knows about how you feel, you should keep trying to seduce him. All men crack eventually.”

“He won’t accept a lousy attempt at seduction, because—aside from I have no clue how to do that, I don’t—he’s, uh…” You trailed off, took a swig of tea instead of finishing, and ended up choking a bit at the heat.

“Yes? What’s the juicy detail you’re reluctant to share? Is he married? Is he a public figure? Is he too much older or younger than you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you asked, “Do you already know? Are you just making me say it?”

Tight-lipped, Midnight made a loose, dismissive gesture and moved to get back to her patient file.

“Fine. Fine! If anyone can help me with this, it’s you, because it’s—goddamn,” you said, deflating and sinking down into your seat, “It’s fucking Aizawa-sensei, okay? My soulmate is my stupid homeroom teacher.”

“Congratulations,” said Midnight, saving the document and shutting down the computer, “You have earned the right to call me by my given name for being so honest.” She spun in her chair to give you her full attention. “So. Shouta.”

“Did you know already? Were you just—”

“I had my suspicions but no concrete evidence,” she said, holding up her hand, “Just some observations from watching you for the past three years.” Tilting her head, she adjusted her glasses before lifting her cup to her mouth again. “Now, the reason why you can’t just seduce him is crystal clear now. I submit that you could start going to bed in skimpier clothes in the event you teleport to his apartment again, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Shouta’s got a steel will. He’s not going to violate that student-teacher professional relationship.”

“I know,” you said, slumping so far down in your seat that your ass was falling off of it, your chin touching your chest, “but if I’m in pain from not being with him, he probably is, too. And if he won’t acknowledge me romantically, I wanna know if there’s something I can do to alleviate the pain that we’re both feeling. He shouldn’t be distracted from his work because of it.”

“That’s exactly what I want to hear.” Midnight jabbed a finger in your direction. “Starting today, you’re promoted. You’re going to be Tainted Love’s primary monitor.”

“What?” You shot up in your seat. “But I haven’t—I haven’t even had a proper conversation with her before—”

“But she’s used to having you around,” Midnight said evenly, opening her top desk drawer, “To her, you’re in a position of authority but not a threat. You’ve seen how she likes to talk, anyway, and you’re in a perfect position to find out more schematics of how her quirk works on the individual level.” Midnight smiled and handed you Ito’s folder. “Plus, she can’t do anything more to you, right? You’ve already got a hell of a soulmate.”

“Okay,” you said, hesitantly taking her file to clutch it to your chest, “So, you just want me to talk to her? Try to solve my problems?”

“Yeah. And anything you find out about her quirk that she hasn’t shared so far—because she hasn’t exactly shared much past the first interrogation—is welcome intelligence. Record anything new. Keep Ito happy. You’ll be golden. I know you’re more than capable.”

“Funny,” you said, flipping through the file and joining Midnight as she stood, “This feels planned. Got anything else motivating you?”

“Besides a perverse desire to see my friend and my sidekick get together?” Midnight grabbed her whip from the hook on the side of her desk. “I was going to assign you this, anyway. Ito isn’t a threat anymore, and I need to focus on preparing for Serendipity’s arrival next week from St. Philomena’s. Even the airline we finally convinced to transport her has backed out, so I’m scrambling to bribe another.”

That had slipped your mind—Serendipity was being transferred to Sakura Grove for rehabilitation, mostly because no one else wanted to house the most potently dangerous female villain in the Americas. “Understandable,” you said, holding open the door for Midnight to follow closely behind, “When do I start?”

***

Fifteen minutes later, you were setting a tray with tea and powdered thumbprint-cookies in front of Ito at her desk in her room. She raised a sharp, white eyebrow at how the dishes clattered at your shaky handling, but she nodded in thanks and turned back to her book. You guessed you were lingering awkwardly by the door a bit too obviously, so she rolled her eyes and set her book upside-down on the desk.

“You’re my new handler, right?” she asked, scratching under her eye.

“That’s me,” you said, hands folded tightly in front of you, “Midnight says you cleared stage five, so you’re safe to be delegated off to me. I have your stage six schedule printed out—”

“But why are you still here? Everyone usually leaves as soon as possible.”

“I’m the only staff member immune to your quirk,” you said, sliding her schedule out of her file.

“Immune.” Ito grinned and crossed her legs. “That’s interesting. How do you know that?”

Well, Midnight said to be honest in order to get honesty from Ito. You sucked in through your teeth. “I’m only immune because you’ve already given me a soulmate. I was the, uh, student you landed on when you attacked U.A.”

Scrunching up her face, Ito scanned you from head to foot, and when she finally stopped at your chest, she nodded. “Ah. I remember you. You’ve got good tits, kiddo,” she said, reaching for her tea, “Be proud of ‘em. You allowed to tell me how it’s going?”

You glanced behind you at the door, pretending to be considering the trouble of talking to her, and when you prodded it shut with your foot, Ito’s grin stretched all the way across her face, her teeth cutting into her lower lip.

“I’ve been desperate to talk to you,” you said, dragging the extra chair closer to hers, “My soulmate is being a little bitch.”

“I like you better than Doc Kim already,” said Ito, and she took a noisy slurp of her tea. “Spill it.”

“I need your advice on what to do about the pain.”

“You found your soulmate already? Then you shouldn’t be feeling any,” she said, shrugging.

“No, I need you to tell me about what to do about the pain. I don’t know if he’s feeling it, but it’s fucking killing me, and he won’t do anything about the soulmate stuff because he doesn’t like me—”

“Back up.” Ito slammed her cup on the tray, spilling tea. “You’re not making any sense. Start over. Tell me about your soulmate.”

Groaning, you buried your face in your hands, leaning back in your chair until your back popped. “He’s my professor, and I’ve liked him for years. Since I met him, pretty much.”

“Hot. He got a sensei kink?” She shoved two thumbprint cookies in her mouth at once, and she nudged the plate in your direction.

“Eh,” you said, weighing your options, “It’s possible. But he doesn’t—”

“Nice. So, he says he’s not gonna do anything while you’re his student, which means he’s burning with shame and sexy, sexy doubts about how good of a man he is. Always sexy to bring a man to his moral and literal knees. Are you wearing fun things to class?”

“We have a uniform.”

“Shame,” she said, gulping down more tea, and then she cocked her head. “Unless.”

“No.”

“Spoilsport,” said Ito, gesturing towards the cookies again. This time you took one, pinching it absentmindedly in your lap. “I think I want to go on my daily walk around the courtyard. Is there room for that in my new schedule?”

You checked it. “I’ll make it work.”

Minutes later, you and Ito were bundled up and strolling the perimeter of Sakura Grove’s courtyard, full of other in-patients in team recreation in the middle and in private conversation on some of the benches.

“I’m still not with you,” Ito was saying as she stared up into the bare limbs of a sakura tree, “I don’t understand why you’re feeling the soulmate pain. It shouldn’t be affecting you, since you know and have met your soulmate.”

You huffed, breath visible. “Well, if you don’t know, then I’m lost. But if he’s not going to complain about the pain, then I suppose I’ll just have to deal with it. I like him too much to bitch about it to him, I guess.”

Ito shoved more of her long, white hair underneath her pom-pom hat. “Then it’s probably the same for him, with him liking you too much to bother you about it.”

“Nah.” You stepped into one of her footprints, the snow crunching under your weight. “He doesn’t like me, and I don’t think he ever will, since once a student, always a stu—”

Ito’s head snapped towards you, cheeks rosy from the cold. “What did you say?”

“My soulmate doesn’t like me, because—”

“You said that earlier, too,” said Ito, and she looked around for other monitors before jerking her head for you to follow her. She guided you in a casual-but-not trail away from any doors or eavesdroppers, and she said in a hushed voice, “You do know that my quirk doesn’t assign soulmates randomly, right?”

“What the hell? Say more right now,” you said, taking smaller steps to stay closer to her.

“Oh, well, that’s news for me. I figured they’d captured my team’s notes on my quirk by now. Okay, well, report this, or not,” said Ito, jabbing a finger towards you, “How much do you know about probability? Yeah, yeah, more math—yes, soulmates usually to inhale the same cloud of my quirk to be considered soulmates, but there are other factors, too. See, you were making sense until you said your soulmate doesn’t like you back.”

“Okay, I’m not following—hey, let’s walk more towards the centre; I think those two by the door are watching us.” You steered the two of you back onto the typical path but stayed close to speak quietly.

“In addition to breathing from the same cloud, two people have to have had a moment of genuine, mutual attraction between each other. Not, like, you pass someone hot on the street and think you’d suck the soul out of their dick before dissuading yourself from the impulse, because they’d clearly ruin your life, but a moment of true, lingering affection for someone that you don’t talk yourself out of. A moment worth thinking about later. Hey, Rika,” Ito said loudly as you passed another patient on the path, “Good to see you today. How’s your cult? You don’t know? Great! Healthy! See you later!” Ito and you sped-walked past her, and once Rika was out of earshot, Ito lowered her voice again. “You don’t have to know the person, but maybe a stranger shared a moment of kindness with you. Maybe an old friend laughed in a new way. It’s a moment where you’re attracted to something past the surface level in a person, even for a brief second. I don’t give out soulmates with absolutely no attraction, even if it may seem that way.”

You, fuming, kicked snow out of your path. “That bitch likes me!”

Ito nodded. “And not just for your tits.”

“Shit,” you said, pushing hair out of your face and pulling your scarf to be snugger, “Nothing I do is gonna—”

“I can help,” said Ito, glancing over her shoulders again for eavesdroppers.

You stopped in your tracks. “But why would you do that? I’m just some weirdo.”

“Because when I have employed the help I’m about to offer you, it has been very, very funny to me,” she said, “and I don’t get outside news except through fucking letters.”

You joined her on the path again. “How many times have you done this?”

Ito looked up as she bit the pad of her thumb, trudging through the snow. “You’ll be the twelfth time. It’s like a part two to my quirk, but I usually don’t come across victims again to offer this sort of thing—and people usually don’t need it. Step one: we’ll need an airtight container.”

***

Cut to that evening in your dorm room, with you hunched over a ziploc bag sealed to the brim with her quirk’s pink dust.

Door locked. Lights down. Cosy pyjamas. Already under the covers in bed.

An increased probability of cliches, Ito had said.

You flipped on the flashlight on your phone to shine through the dust, pink light scattering on the ceiling like a home-planetarium.

Inhaling her quirk for the second time would still affect you, but it wouldn’t assign you another soulmate. Rather, it would dramatically increase your chances for romance tropes to occur in your real life. Stuff that only happens in rom-coms and fanfic could start to happen to you and your soulmate.

(“Like sharing a bed when there’s only one of them,” Ito had said, swirling her finger through the leftover powdered sugar and licking it.

“We’ve already got that covered with the teleporting,” you’d said.

“Shifting is what I’ve been calling the teleports, babe.” Ito had smacked her lips. “And maybe you’ll wake up grinding on his hard-on, now. Do you know how big his dick is?” she’d asked, and then she’d clicked her tongue. “Never mind; I wanna know about his thighs.”

“I can—”

“Or maybe he’ll spill coffee on your shirt and have to pat you dry, accidentally making your shirt see-through and getting flustered at your tits. Or maybe he’ll have to pick you up in the rain, and oh, no, the weather’s too bad for you to go home, and you have to wear his clothes, and—”

You’d snorted at the thought of wearing one of his jumpsuits. He didn’t seem to have much else.)

Either way, you had your ziploc bag of soulmate trope dust, and you had a soulmate reluctant to acknowledge you—even though you knew now that he liked you, that bitch. You’d prepared accordingly, already in bed, since Ito had said you’d likely pass out again. It sat a bit unpleasantly in your stomach that you were going to rely on cliches to jumpstart your relationship with Aizawa, since you hadn’t wanted to do that in the first place with teacher-student relationship cliches. But you could avoid that the best you could, you supposed.

You lay down in bed, adjusting your hair on your pillow, and with the bag on your chest, you popped it like bubble wrap, the dust surging into your face in a rosy burst.

***

Popping it Tuesday night led to a cruelly dull Wednesday, since, as seniors, Wednesdays were off-days for the hero course to spend more time in the field. You weren’t needed at Sakura Grove, as you remotely typed up your reports and sent them their way, and since all your friends were with their mentors, the hours crawled. You puttered around online for a while, before cracking open a book whose plot couldn’t hold you. Since no one was around to witness, you plodded downstairs to the kitchen in your pyjamas, stole one of Aoyama’s green tea popsicles for an early start to lunch, and booted up the console Kaminari kept in the commons.

While the screen loaded, you plopped onto the couch, licking the last of the tea off the wooden stick. What does Aizawa do on Wednesdays now that his class is loose? He frequents a cat café; the punch-card was poking out of his wallet on his bedside table last time you shifted to his room. But there are the mundanities—grocery shopping, catching up on sleep, grading, caring for Eri. And hell, how you’d like to share those moments with him—perhaps scrunching his nose at a change of ingredients of his favourite chip, stroking the neck of his cat in a beam of sunlight, braiding Eri’s hair with ribbon at the start of a school day.

Fuuuuuck, when will Aizawa let you in?

The next moment, you’re suffocating. Pitch black softness, swaddling and falling around you, sweltering within seconds, sweat beading at your hairline. You took a desperate, gasping breath—relieved in the slim moment a slant of light puckered in front you, until the hand shoved onto your face, palm feeling for your mouth and shutting your jaw for you. Within the cocoon, the frame on either side of you tensed, and—the hand fumbled, once you’d quieted, in the crack of light to clumsily cup your cheek, patting it abruptly before rubbing the thumb over your cheekbone.

From that touch and the peace it swept over you, you knew where you’d shifted: kneeling right between Aizawa’s legs in his sleeping bag. But he’s sitting upright in a chair and needed to silence you, so where was he right now?

You settled, leaning against the hard muscle of his calf and into his palm, nosing at it to signal you knew it’s him.

“You have twenty-seven minutes to finish your tests,” called Aizawa, and for the first time, you picked up on pens clicking, paper shuffling, and chairs scuffing against polished tile. “Don’t ask me when they’ll be graded; Kuranosuke-sensei isn’t set to return until Saturday.”

Bless him.

But okay. You’ve got about half an hour stuck between his legs under this desk in front of what’s likely a bunch of younger business students.

Huh, if you only inched your chin forward on his chair, you’d be perfectly positioned to nuzzle against his cock, maybe suck it if you maneuvered your arms out of the sleeping bag’s constrictions. But, you supposed, it would be very mean to tease him in that way in front of students who haven’t built that respect for him, and you’d prefer your first blowjob to be where Aizawa could throw his head back, face flushed, groaning loudly with a gentle, guiding hand on the back of your head—hey, now’s not the time.

You didn’t want him to feel the shame of having an erection in front of who were essentially strangers. It’d…you don’t want to humiliate your soulmate. You love that idiot.

But Aizawa was shifting his hips, to your horror, the thick fabric of his jumpsuit brushing your face in the moment his hand retracted, and the sleeping bag was shuffled down past the top of your head, which grazed the underside of a desk drawer.

You rested your chin towards the edge of his chair—yes, mere inches between your face and his clothed cock, but your breath probably wasn’t even hitting it. From this angle, you and Aizawa could share that suspicious glare he shot you, so you backed up the half-inch for your chin to rest of the very brink of the chair—he closed his eyes, his shoulders losing their stiffness—and you leant your head against his thigh, just on the inside of his knee. He heaved a silent sigh, giving a subtle roll of his eyes, and minutely nodded—an act so slight that if you hadn’t been looking for it, you would’ve missed it.

Aizawa’s hand came to rest atop your head, scratching his fingers gently against your scalp. Part of it’s the soulmate bond; part of it’s being touch-starved, but his gentle scratch was so fucking soothing that a hazy, relaxed sleepiness came over you. Your head sagged, nose pressing towards the underside of his thigh, while your eyes crossed. Maybe it’s the magic of his sleeping bag, but you’re so drowsy that the scratch of his short nails almost drowned out clicking footsteps approach the desk.

Aizawa froze, his hand stilling in your hair.

“What are we supposed to do with our tests?” came the whisper of a business student.

Aizawa made a grunt and moved as if he were stretching and reaching for something on the desk. “Whatever you normally do. Is there not a routine?”

“The basket we turn papers in to is missing.” The shadow of the student’s feet grew closer to the desk.

“Not my problem. Just leave them on the corner of the desk—” A tinny clink echoed through the teacher desk when Aizawa tapped it—his thumb swiping over your forehead to calm you.

“Gotcha,” said the business student, and you thought you were in the clear before she asked, “What—what are you doing under…?”

“Oh?” Aizawa jolted the chair forward to hide you, but with the jolt came his clothed cock pressed against your face; even through the thick fabric you could tell it’s his shaft pressed against the length of your nose and corner of mouth and balls nestled against your chin and cheek. “I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to text under my desk, the same as all of you do when you think I can’t see.” A metallic-sounding object scraped across the desktop, followed by an impulsively-large-sounding gulp.

“Your phone’s on your desk, sir,” said the business student.

His fingers now curled into your hair in a vain attempt to pull you away from his cock, but he couldn’t, with the scant room under the desk and bulk of his sleeping bag. Trying to be polite, you opted to avert your gaze from his crotch (even though it was right there), which shuddered so hard that you saw and felt it.

“It’s a common practise for pro-heroes to have secondary phones purely for work,” said Aizawa, taking another loud swallow of his drink. “You may want to invest in one.”

“Gotcha,” said the business student again, just as another shadow joined her at the desk and whispered for her to hurry up.

When they both retreated, Aizawa stealthily scooted back to gain some space in a move that looked like he was simply leaning back in his chair to drain the tea out of his cup—and you savoured the unshielded view of the tender skin of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed—and hey, that’s—Aizawa relaxed enough to glance down at you, elbow on the arm of the chair, holding in the air the teacup you gifted him to replace the one you broke (nowhere nearly as nice as the pottery one you smashed presumably was, but its deep crimson glaze had reminded you of his quirk-activated eyes).

You were strangely moved that he was using your gift so quickly after he received it, in public, and not where you were supposed to see it being used.

Your eyes darted between the cup and his eyes until he noticed, and he raised the teacup just a hair in a toast. Nodding with a tired smile, you wormed your arm around to unwind his hand from its grip in your hair, unintentionally still tight, and held his gaze as you kissed the pad of each finger, starting with his little finger, the pink flashing from each tip until you pressed your lips against his thumb.

Aizawa never looked away, but he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. You wondered for a moment if he liked the thumbprint bisecting the centre of your lips, the rounded edge aligning with the dip in your cupid’s bow. But his expression betrayed nothing, and instead, he raised the teacup to his own mouth, his hand returning to your hair for the rest of the period.

After the last student had petered out of the classroom and Aizawa had given an uncharacteristic little wave as the last one close the door behind her, Aizawa held out a groan as he kicked away from the desk, his hands flying to adjust his lower jumpsuit and then raking his fingers back through his own hair.

“How are you holding up?”

You balked. “How am I?” You shoved at his knees so that you had room to stand, and you sat on the desk.

Aizawa pointedly nudged your legs together (you hadn’t even thought of it that way). “Nice pyjamas.”

“You’re lucky I don’t sleep naked,” you said, plucking at your shirt.

“Am I?”

Was that…was he flirting?

Your surprise must have shown on your face, because he continued. “You shouldn’t walk back to the dorms like that. I don’t have anything at the school besides a spare jumpsuit, but Hizashi should have his jacket draped on his chair in the faculty lounge.”

“How romantic,” you said, flicking the side of his teacup for the hell of it.

“I don’t have another class to sub until the period after this one,” he said, pocketing his phone and other personals on the desk before handing the teacup to you, “Let’s go.”

Present Mic was gloriously absent from the faculty lounge, so there was no one to stop Aizawa from laying his stuff on his desk and swiping the jacket off the back of Mic’s chair. You set the teacup on the cat coaster and had just barely turned his way before he was sweeping the open jacket around your shoulders. Aizawa lifted the leather while you slipped your arms inside, and he zipped you up, stopping the zipper just above the curve of your boobs. You looked down, and he flicked the zipper up at you with a smirk.

“Are we married yet?”

His hand dropped from your zipper. “I saw what you did with the registration form. You’re not funny.”

“I happen to be hilarious,” you said, “I assume to want to adjust the mark?”

Nodding, Aizawa waited for you to tilt your head up and to the side. “I am not marrying you. You’re my student.” He grazed the usual spot behind your ear with his ring finger.

“And someday I won’t be.” You shivered as the frisson of his touch rolled through you. “You’d rather have even more paperwork, bureaucratical hoops, and possibly a ceremony at a later, inevitable date than one simple checkmark on a sheet? Not very logical, sensei.”

He frowned. “Stop that.”

A beat. “No otherwise rebuttal?” you asked, grinning, “You agree, then, that we’re going to end up together? That we’ll be—”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Funny,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek, eyeing Snipe in the far corner of the room, “Then, hey. Compromise. What if we just hang out with no romantic or sexual connotations whatsoever? I wanna get to know you better. You’re cool.”

Aizawa crossed his arms and followed your gaze to Snipe, who was bent over in his seat, cleaning one of his guns. “Think about it. Would you trust a teacher who spends time outside of school with a student?”

“How’s the training with Shinsou going?”

“You are not funny.”

“And everybody knows you’re training Shinsou, and they’re fine with it. You could say you’re training me,” you said, stepping closer to him, looking him in the eyes despise his hunkering down into his scarf, “Please say you’re training me. I want to spend time with you. Hell, actually train me. You could make me strong enough that you don’t have to worry about me, or any bullshit. C’mon, Aizawa. Please.”

“That,” he said, “I can easily deny you. Now, get back to the dorms. I’d like to—”

“What? Why,” you said with a whine, “How can you say that so quickly? You didn’t even think about it.”

“Yeah?” Aizawa turned to his desk to boot up the computer. “It’s because you’re already strong enough to take care of yourself. I don’t have to worry about you in a fight,” he said, just barely crinkling his eyes, so you figured that he’s smiling beneath his capture weapon, “Keeping you from being a fool—now, that’s something I’ll have to watch for.”

You groaned. Loudly. And for way too long. “Whatever. May I sit on your lap while you grade?”

“No,” said Aizawa, not missing a beat, “Go back to the dorm.”

“You want me to check on Eri?”

“Sure. That’d be—really nice. Let me know—”

“Yeah?” Grinning, you bounced on the balls of your feet. “How am I supposed to do that? Sounds like I might need a certain phone number.”

Aizawa collapsed in his cracked, leather lounge chair and spun it towards his cubicle desk. “No need. If you don’t shift to me in the next half hour, I’ll assume everything’s fine.”

“Oh, come on. I feel like I deserve some sort of treat for not mentioning your half-chub while it was in my face earlier.”

Aizawa rubbed at his temple, his eyes strained. “I’m busy grading and don’t have time to talk.”

He was staring into a blank screen.

“Fine, you big baby. I’ll concede to you this time,” you said, and before you could lose your nerve, you leant over to kiss the top of his head.

You’d bolted for the door before he could even turn around.

***

It was supposed to be a routine field exercise.

The hero course had been split into teams, each under the leadership of a faculty member, for a field assessment as twenty percent of your grade for your final semester. As an extension of the personal study starting with the student presentations from earlier, you were in the group focusing on stealth headed by Aizawa, along with Bakugou, Aoyama, and Todoroki (who swopped into your group last minute, since Midnight declared that he needed to get away from her group working on public relations). Bummed that no other girls were in the group, you resolved to make it work by being better than the boys. Not to mention that the three included would, hopefully, be dense enough to miss the subtler interactions between Aizawa and you that betrayed something else going on.

The four of you were to know as little as possible about the assignment as possible before going in, so you all spent the week leading up to it making contingency plans (you’d been told not to go out otherwise that week, so Midnight had to do her own work, for once, at Sakura Grove), with maps of the city and subway splayed out on the floor in the common room, along with bowls of trail mix Bakugou had thrown together, claiming that Aoyama’s stuff was bullshit (though you had enjoyed it very much when you ate it in secret that morning). All you’d been told was that you’d be making an escort in secret, without the target even knowing you were there.

No contingency plan could account for this.

A thunderstorm popped up on the radar out of nowhere, delaying the plane’s arrival, and the airport radio signal had been scrambled, fed into a different language, and back again. If you’d been allowed more details during preparation, you’d have more of the story, but all you could piece together now was excruciatingly obvious: the airport’s east wing exploded and caved before the plane even hit it, and now you were trapped underground under wet, crumbly tonnes of rubble, confined to a pocket of space barely tall enough to stand in, with the only structure keeping half of an airport bathroom’s mirrored wall from collapsing and crushing you being the charred, lower third of a column from the airport courtyard.

“You can’t blow our way out,” you hissed at Bakugou, who was climbing his way up the column to prod at the ceiling, “The column’s load-bearing.”

“I know that,” Bakugou said, contorting his upper body and neck as he gawped with his mouth open at the debris above him, “I’m just seein’ if there’s any light from the surface comin’ through, or if there’s anywhere rainwater’s drippin’ in.”

Hunching with his upper back grazing the rubble ceiling at the tallest point in the collapsed space, Aizawa frantically fussed with his work phone (which he genuinely had, after all) and his radio, unable to get a signal. “Be careful with your movements,” he said, mind barely in the conversation, “You could make the debris slip, or it could get weighed down with rain and further collapse. At worst, you want it to settle. Aoyama, are you getting anything?”

Tapping the AI filter on his sparkle shades away, Aoyama tore his gaze away from his handheld device’s screen. “Alas,” he said with a quivering frown. His ankle was being wrapped by Todoroki, who had been careful to refill the place in the concrete where Aoyama’s foot had been with ice, keeping the space intact.

“It’s fine; you’re doing well. Keep an eye on the signal. We want to know if we get one.” Aizawa handed his phone to you, giving you a short nod and the same job. “Todoroki, keep that cavity frozen. Keep an eye out for similar spot about to collapse and do the same.”

“I’m assuming this isn’t part of the assignment, since you’re taking charge,” you said under your breath to Aizawa, your back to the others as you stooped to stand yourself, arms crossed, “What relevant information can you share about the assignment that might get us out of here? Who were we escorting? If we know who they have for allies, then we can start to understand how the signals are scrambled and how to walk out of this situation.”

Aizawa stuck his tongue in his cheek. “None of it’s relevant. Our target has been isolated for well over four years and was being processed by professionals. She wouldn’t have had any opportunity to sabotage this procedure; St. Philomena’s has kept our target from having untracked outside communication.”

An uneasy stone dropped into the pit of your stomach. “St. Philomena’s,” you said slowly, biting your lip, “That’s a women’s penitentiary.”

Aizawa opened his mouth to answer but instead inhaled a mouthful of dust as the earth shook and clattered around you. Bakugou braced the column while you and Aizawa kept the bathroom wall steady, but the mirror shattered and fell with the wall, with Todoroki grabbing you out of the way of the sink from crushing your legs, icing the concrete shards into a makeshift support for the column, enough for Bakugou to twist out from underneath it. You gasped in deep breaths of powdery concrete yet dug into wet clods of silt and grime with the heels of your boots.

The ceiling had caved in by about two feet in height, and if Aoyama hadn’t skibbled away from his spot in the corner, he’d be buried under glass and tile. You experimentally knelt and stretched towards the ceiling—good for you, for having some room to move upwards, but Aizawa could only sit, now. Every heaving breath from your friends was too close for your liking, and the stone fell from your stomach right into your gut when you noticed the steady trickle of water between the rocks and down the column, cutting a clear, ivory path through the grey dust coating it. Bakugou scooted out of the ways of its dripping, letting it instead drain in a puddle next to him.

You and Bakugou nearly jumped out of your skins at the skrrrt of Aizawa’s radio, but nothing came through except static.

“We’re okay,” said Aizawa, once Aoyama started to show signs of hyperventilation, “The static is a good sign. Even if we can’t communicate specifics, they have a location on us. They know we’re down here, and if it seems like they’re taking too long, remember that civilians are the priority. We’ll be all right.”

Claustrophobia.

Not your favourite.

But Aoyama was clearly having a worse time handling it, so it’s better to set an example for him—see how calm you are? See how much you’re not being selfish, curling into Aizawa’s arms for him to pet your hair until it’s over, keeping him all to yourself, even though it’d be really easy to pretend like it’s the size of the cavern instead of your own selfish desires that’s making you touch him. See how mature you’re being, not even touching Aizawa, even though he’s right next to you. You’re being rational about the whole thing.

Todoroki stared off, his bright eyes narrowed and brow furrowed, and he parted his lips, wetting them slightly before speaking. “You should move closer to Aoyama,” he said to Bakugou, “Someone’s hurt.”

“The hell d’you mean?” When Todoroki gestured, Bakugou followed his gaze.

The water’s white path through the dust congealed and blushed deep vermillion as it coursed down the column, falling in thick, steady plops next to Bakugou, the upsplash ticking his exposed skin with red.

“Holy shit.” Bakugou scrambled away the best he could, kicking away from the water and practically into your lap, but he shot you a sort-of apologetic look and shuffled into more of Todoroki’s personal space. “Do you think—it’s not blood,” he said, smearing it on his arm, still running a dark red even spread thinly.

Aoyama cringed. “It’s not going to—it won’t fill up the—”

“No,” Bakugou said quickly, “It’s drainin’ through the cracks. We’re fine, Aoyama.” Bakugou made a point of dragging his hard glare from Todoroki to you, as if to say that keeping Aoyama calm was essential to getting out.

You checked Aizawa’s phone again for any signal, and, sighing, you stowed it to keep from scratching the screen.

“Nothing?”

Shaking your head at Aizawa, you resisted the heavy urge to rest your forehead on his shoulder. You know what? Maybe you could. He’s right there, and if you did it in this situation, it could be read as a simply act of comfort that you could have easily shared with anyone, perhaps. The two of you could stare romantically into the dripping, red goop, talk about your lives together, about teaching your psychotic friends, about sidekicking at Sakura Grove—

“Hey, don’t touch that,” you said, jolting in your seat, to Todoroki, who stopped, wide-eyed, in his odd stretch over Bakugou’s lap before he could prod with his outstretched finger the congealed mass accumulating in the puddle, “I think I know what that is.”

Beside you, Aizawa sucked in through his teeth. “Just once, I wish your deduction skills weren’t so good.”

Without averting your gaze, you moved to elbow him in the chest, hard, but he caught your arm and held it deathly still: he only touched you by your sleeve, though, so no soulmark would bleed through. Odds were that the mark was still furtively hidden behind your ear. Frowning, you tried to wrest your arm away from him, eyes on the falling droplet heavy enough to break the surface tension of the gathered, congealed mass, making the whole thing burst upwards in a dense, ruby smoke.

“Get down, as close to the ground as you can,” you said in a rush, cut off when Aizawa shoved your head to the ground with his hand on the back of your neck, his face inches from yours and only moving closer as he made room for the others to join you, cheek smushed against a patch of intact bathroom tile.

“It’s aerosolising,” said Aizawa, eyes darting over the ceiling, where the mist was rising through cracks in the rubble, “Follow where it’s escaping; we might be able to use—”

“No, you fucker,” you hissed (Aizawa squeezed the back of your neck), “Not all of it’s going to escape. It’s going to condense into liquid again on any surface that blocks it and then drop back on us.”

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on,” spat Bakugou, voice muffled from behind you but strangely reverberating back through the curved metal of Aoyama’s armour.

“We’re only going to be safe on the ground if it doesn’t condense, which is un-fucking-likely the way the thunderstorm’s moistened and lowered atmospheric pressure,” you said, the sound of water rinsing through crannies in the rocks growing from the far side of the cavern, “Aoyama, try to breath evenly but shallowly; you don’t wanna inhale this.”

The knuckles of Bakugou’s heavy glove struck the centre of your upper back. “Dumbass. Just tell him to hyperventilate, why don’t you?”

A drop of red water fell onto Todoroki’s pale cheek, sizzling with the impact as it was absorbed into his skin, a miniature puff of smoke emitting from the spot.

After a moment of heavy silence, Aizawa shifted his jaw, his eyes dark as they focused on you. “Academic protocols are over. Time to share what you know about Serendipity’s quirk.”

You dropped your jaw, even with the grit digging into your skin and jaw. “Who’s the insane person who assigned a bunch of students to escort fucking Serendipity—”

“I am,” said Aizawa, grip on your neck tightening and eyes flaring scarlet so briefly that you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been inches away, “Considering your high level of academic success, I thought you capable enough to complete a more difficult mission than your—”

“Someone just fuckin’ say what her quirk does!” Bakugou’s hand curled into a fist with the fabric of your hero costume taut between its fingers, his fist lay, overheated, between your shoulder blades.

You jerked your shoulder away from him, but there wasn’t any room to go, so his hand stayed on your back, putting distance between the two of you, though his knees and hips still touched the back of yours. “Okay,” you said after settling, glaring directly into Aizawa’s eyes, “Serendipity is the third most dangerous villain in the western hemisphere, evidently being transferred today to the place Midnight and I work, because fucking no one else wants to handle her. C’mon, Aizawa, is that why I wasn’t allowed at work for the past week? So I wouldn’t know? Fucking—” You tried to give a half-hearted kick to Aizawa, but his thumb curled enough around your neck to locate your pulse point, which he pressed down on in warning. “But yeah, her quirk is so volatile and dangerous because—because yes, it’s a sex pollen quirk, but it’s fast, and you can’t solve it by touching yourself, like other sex quirks we’ve seen used for villainy; you have to orgasm at someone else’s hands. And no one can figure out why your internal organs shrivel and die within four hours—”

You inhaled sharply through your teeth as two droplets sizzled into your skin in quick succession, but the squeeze on your neck told you to continue. “Or the brain damage, or—because her quirk’s been studied, but no one can tell if it requires the feed of dopamine to the body, or not getting enough oxygenated blood cells, or capillary damage, or—” Bakugou thumped your back again. “—but no one is immune to it, and it’s fucking terrifying,” you finished, scrunching your eyes shut at the sensation of more droplets searing into your skin and into those around you, each person inhaling more with each individual puff of smoke from the viscous drops.

Tongue too big for your mouth, you trailed off, eyesight blurring as you zoned out for a just a bit, but you lurched back into reality when a hot ache stung the back of your neck and swept through your body. Aizawa retracted his hand faster than a viper striking, his eyes briefly holding the same dread yours did.

Shaken, you pushed yourself up to sit, and to your horror, an enormous gush of arousal pooled between your legs—you snapped your legs shut at the sight of the wet spot on your hero costume (and worse, the dribbling into the gravel), and Aizawa saw, holding a steady, neutral expression despite your visible panic.

“Fuck, baby—”

It hadn’t come from Aizawa but Bakugou, whose hips you’d inadvertently ground against when you sat up. His large hand came to grip your waist, fingers digging in and pulling your ass back against him, and his other hand clamped over his nose and mouth as he pushed himself up. “I’ve always known you smelled good, but this is somethin’ else—”

“Absolutely not.” Aizawa yoinked you away from Bakugou and put himself between the you and the rest, cramping you into the corner with pointed rocks digging into your back, and he held up his hand, Bakugou glaring a hole into his palm, vermillion streaking down his face. “You’re drugged. She’s drugged. Even if you both say you want it, it’s not a reflection of reality.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, but Todoroki tilted to the side to keep his tense gaze on you.

“No,” said Aizawa, using the scant room and the end of his capture weapon to snap in Todoroki’s face, “You’d be ruining the professional relationship you have. You’d be violating her. There’s no way she’d actually want you.”

Bakugou scoffed over Todoroki’s quiet how do you know that, already palming himself through his costume. “I’d rather risk it all blasting out of here than suck Icy-Hot’s dick.” His other hand crackled with the beginnings of an explosion.

“You can’t,” you said with effort, mouth and throat coated with dust as heat rose to your skin, sweat breaking out at your hairline, “If you’re not a heteromorph, Serendipity’s quirk suppresses yours. It—it overwhelms your entire system—”

“You couldn’t mention that before I got hard?” Bakugou scowled, thumb playing with his belt buckle in consideration. “I would’ve blasted us out of here earlier.”

Aizawa shook his head. “It wouldn’t’ve worked—”

Todoroki made a sort of horting noise in the back of his throat, drawing everyone’s attention, before hacking a thick glob of red mucus right onto a spot of white bathroom tile, large trails of saliva trailing from his mouth.

“Holy shit,” you said softly, your eyebrows shooting up, and Aizawa held you back before you could even move.

“Mon Dieu,” said Aoyama, and he removed his sparkle shades to see it without a red filter.

Aizawa’s radio crackled static again, but nobody moved a muscle.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” said Aizawa, his hand still up but hardly deterring an increasingly twitchy Bakugou, who kept staring at you over Aizawa’s shoulder, “Aoyama, you’re probably going to hurt yourself and others if you stay in your armour. If you think you can handle being more vulnerable, take it off. Prop it up between the three of you and us.” The radio hissed again. “We’re going to camp out here until help arrives. Waiting is the heroic path to take sometimes,” he said in Bakugou’s direction, “If you find yourself succumbing to the quirk, that’s okay. It’s not shameful. No one is immune to it. If you can work it out among yourselves, that’s fine. No one here is going to share any details you don’t want out.” But here his voice darkened, and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew Aizawa was shooting a hard, unmerciful look towards them. “But you’re not going to hurt anyone here, and you’re especially not going to take advantage of her because she’s the only woman. To get her, you’ll have to go through me, and I do not intend to be kind.”

“Fucking hell,” said Bakugou, unbuckling his belt and sliding it off.

You were feeling a similar way, but Aizawa had you so backed into the corner that there wasn’t room to take anything off. So, instead of tearing off the increasingly abrasive and scratchy fabric of your hero uniform, you hugged your knees to your chest, thighs clenching, and bit down on your arm to keep from crying out. A choked sound still escaped you as a leather strap on your upper thigh rubbed closer to a more sensitive spot.

You couldn’t even lift a hand to fan your face—but with how heavy your limbs felt, even the promise of cool air couldn’t bring you to attempt it, and instead, you tried to find relief in the cold press of busted bathroom tile at the back of your neck—and you turned your head to feel it against your cheek, too.

Your hips rocked, knocking your legs against Aizawa’s back, and when he turned over his shoulder to spare you a glance, you jolted as far back as you could away from him. Not that you could go anyway but barely half an inch backwards. “Sorry,” you said quickly, shaking your head, “Didn’t mean to. Really. I—” Your heart flipped at his concerned face (himself looking a little red), and a sharp cramp curdled into your lower stomach. “Oh, fuck,” you said, a hand shooting to your stomach and doubling over—but your forehead grazed him before you could, and you let out a quiet yelp before jerking back into place, tears welling at the pain. “Sorry about that.”

Aizawa grimaced at your weak smile and turned back towards the others. You hadn’t even heard what they’re doing, since the blood pumping in your ears apparently deafened you to anything besides your own half-smothered sobs into your arm. 

They were growing louder at their frustration, but they were, for the most part, not directing any of it at you. Hey, is—? Over Aoyama’s armour-wall, it looked like Bakugou might have gotten his cock out to start stroking it; maybe you could get a better look—

“Hey,” said Aizawa, blocking your view when he turned over his shoulder, “Stop all that squirming.” Were you? You hadn’t even noticed. “Remember what I’ve taught you. I know you can do better.”

“Oh, don’t say professor-y things like that,” you said with a whine while, yes, squirming in place, “It goes straight to my cunt.”

 Aizawa closed his eyes for a moment, but he soon opened them and continued, unaffected. “Focus. I’m holding you to a higher calibre than your peers, because I know you can do it. What have you been taught about remaining calm in crisis? Ground yourself.”

“But I—”

“Do it.”

You huffed and tried to settle down into your body, counted, and exhaled slowly as you shut your eyes, waiting for your other sense to sharpen. Body scan—focusing on flowing energy, starting at your head, down to your toes, and back up again. But you had trouble on the return to the top of your head, since every cell in your body screamed to zoom in on the throbbing in your lower half—hard to say what’s tremoring more: you, or the walls of the cavern.

But there’s an infinitesimal sound that drowns every other maddening, oversensitive sensation: from the back of Aizawa’s throat comes a quiet, breathy whimper.

And—

“Oh, my fucking God,” you said, noticing all of the surreptitious ways Aizawa was trying to hide how affected he was: his hand clasped in a knuckle-whitening fist covering his lap, eyes watering with frustration, jaw tensed, neck and hand veins pulsating, sweating through his undershirt, and you?

Wetting your lips, you strained forward to brush his hair aside to kiss the back of his neck, and Aizawa fucking shuddered, the thing passing through his whole body. Though it hadn’t been your intention, your legs spread as you did so, parting on either side of him, and his hair flew into your face as he took in your legs surrounding him.

“Hey, no,” he said, and he pushed back on your legs, willing you to scrunch up to hug them to your chest again.

“I’m not doing anything—”

“You fucking are,” Aizawa hissed over his shoulder, “You’re being a goddamn brat.”

That shut you up immediately. Feeling slick drip out of you, you curled in on yourself, tucking your legs up to your chest like he wanted.

“That’s what I thought.” He turned back to keep guard.

His shoulders seemed wider than before.

 Maybe it’s the heady, prickling excitement swarming in your chest at the unspoken threat of a punishment turned sexual, or maybe it’s the incoming brain damage, but you rounded up every nerve not currently on fire to keep pushing your luck. “Aizawa,” you said, soft enough for only him to hear over the squelching from the far side of the cavern, “If we were alone right now, what would you do to me?”

He didn’t respond.

An easy grin stretched across your face.

“Because I know there’s got to be stuff you wanna do to me, not with me, for how I behave sometimes. But I only want your attention,” you said, feeling a bit dizzy as heat flushed all over your feverish skin, “I know you can’t give it to me, because you wanna be all noble and stuff, but—”

Another cramp had you gasping and hacking up red-tinged spit. Aizawa started to turn his head, but you told him, totally deflated, “Don’t bother. I’m sorry—” You coughed up more red mucus. “I know I’m gross; I know you can’t look at me that way; I’m sorry I’ve been—I’m sorry.”

How can he be so calm? It’s not fucking fair that he can just sit there, cross-legged and sweating, with the scent of sex permeating the smoke-hazy air, and yes, he’s hard, but that’s just the stupid fucking quirk.

You’re dripping and clenching but still so, so empty, and the tears finally overflowed as Aizawa looked over his shoulder at you again. “I’m sorry,” you said again, eyes glazing over and breathing irregularly (for all the talk about Aoyama hyperventilating, you might be the one to actually do it). “I’ll—I’ll stop bothering you; I can handle this. I’ll, uh—” You cut yourself off at another cramp, seizing up at a stray spasm, releasing your hold on your legs and yanking at the roots of your hair. “Don’t worry about me; I’ll get—get Shinsou to make me come—sorry I tried to—I’m sorry; I should’ve left you alone—”

“Stop apologising.” Aizawa twisted to brush away your tears with his thumb, the skin that vibrant pink when he pulled away. “Christ, you’re burning up.” He hand returned to your face, this time against your forehead, and he frowned—yeah, he was frowning before you were pathetically raising yourself off the ground to nuzzle into his hand, to mouth voraciously at his palm, which flushed pink with every pass of your lips, and—

“Fuck,” said Aizawa, withdrawing his hand to press the heels of his palms into his eyes. You made a questioning noise, and to answer, he let his gaze drop to where the soaked patch between your legs dribbled into the rubble. He dragged his hands down the rest of his face. “You’re drenched,” he said, rasping.

A vehement moan from the other side of the space made both of you flinch, with Aizawa making a quick check to ensure their attention wasn’t on you.

You grabbed his capture weapon, pulling him close. “Please,” you said, panting, “Please, ‘Zawa, I’m not as capable as you think I am; I’m not good; I can’t take it. Please—”

His teeth dug into his lower lip as a grumbled scoff came from the back of this throat, and he shook his head. “God, not like this. It’s not supposed to be like this.”

Another loud moan and the sounds of skin on skin from the others brought another wince from the two of you, and Aizawa squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he’d steeled himself, determined and set. “I can’t have you corrupting my protégé,” he said (it was a joke, right? Why isn’t he smiling?), “but I can’t offer you anything more.”

“Wha—?”

Aizawa was nudging your knees open, his eyebrows raised, and when he turned to face the others, he scooted backwards to sit between your spread legs, pinning you between the rock and his back, crowding you in, and oh, oh, my God, you should’ve been embarrassed at how wet the back of his jumpsuit got as he pushed himself back to sit right in front of your crotch, but the first, pulsing wave of relief as your clit rubbed against him washed everything else away.

Did this count? Did this count as coming at someone else’s hands? You found the problem less compelling the more you thrashed against him, grinding your clit against his back so hard that your vision blacked out at the edges, breathing in that terribly awful frustrating sexy combination of pine and sandalwood, desperately huffing it in in gasping breaths and curling your fingers into the back of his jumpsuit to bring him closer: you needed to kiss the back of his neck again, to see that pink mark on his skin.

But it’s as if he knew what you were going to do, because instead of letting you pull his hair aside, he reached back to grab your hand, and he (mercifully) allowed the grab to relax into a hold, letting you lace your fingers through his as he guided your arm around his waist (an evil part of you was disappointed that he didn’t place your hand over his cock, instead of resting your entwined hands on his leg [cute]).

And you were quiet: you didn’t moan, so the others wouldn’t know, unless they could somehow make out your laboured breathing behind the hand you cupped over your mouth. You’re grappling for pressure against your clit, but it’s your shiver when he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb that triggered your orgasm—pounding, rushing, and all at once, the throbbing of your clit taking you somewhere distant and piney, with you slowly coming back to reality by an abrupt pulsing, for some reason, in the roof of your mouth.

And the quirk had passed through you.

It counted.

But it kept you bound in a tired haze, sultry and lethargic and red, and lost in the lingering high of both the scarlet saliva you kept hacking up and that Aizawa let you grind against him until you came, you closed in on yourself and did your best to stay awake. Your brain tried to worry about Aizawa, but the quirk shushed you and forced you into a cloudy exhaustion.

You were out of it when Aizawa’s radio crackled to life, when the rescue unit exhumed your team, when the EMT on duty looked you over. You were still foggy when you were put in a passenger seat of a government vehicle, but the fog dissipated when Aizawa climbed in the driver’s seat and told you to call Midnight.

“I don’t know the number for Sakura Grove,” he said, turning on the windshield wipers, “and I need to warn Midnight that I’m asking her to help me with this quirk.”

Thunder rumbled through the sky and into your bones as he turned into downtown traffic, headlights blurring in the rain. Blankly, you wrestled his phone out of your pocket and began to dial her work number. “Okay, traitor.”

Aizawa’s expression darkened, his face glistening with sweat. “You know that I can’t—”

“So I can’t do the same for you?” you asked, putting his phone on speaker and letting it ring (cranking up the volume to hear it over the rain pelting the windows), “I can’t just, like, hold out my hand for you to grind against, or, God forbid, give you an actual fucking handjob—”

“Stop it,” he said, and he snatched his phone from you, switching off speaker, and you crossed your arms to fume, staring out into the miserably grey morning.

You smushed your forehead against the cool of the window, watching the raindrops chase each other down the glass, and you tried to focus on car horns blaring instead of the conversation regarding Aizawa’s sexual release that he and Midnight were currently having.

When he hung up, you sat up from your slouch against the window. “Is that all you need me for, then? You’ve got the number. You might as well drop me off at the next light.”

Aizawa swore under his breath. “Stop being such a—” He cut himself off, his leg not working the pedals bouncing profusely. “I still need you to enter Sakura Grove.”

That was true. You had three number-codes to punch in for clearance, and there was a thumbprint scan at the building in which you and Midnight worked. Still, you scoffed. “Just get Nemuri to let you in. You evidently don’t need me.”

The hand on the steering wheel tensed, veins pulsing. “First name basis?”

“Some professors like me.”

“Forget I said anything,” he grumbled, and when you turned to the window again, he mashed on the car radio, volume loud over the rain.

After a babble of a drum solo and what sounded like shouting in English, you were able to translate the song in your head by the time it hit the chorus:

“Got it bad, so bad, I’m hot for teacher.”

Aizawa stared, baffled, at the radio instead of the road as the guitar picked up, and he changed stations.

Again, in English, but with a hypnotically alt-relaxed beat: “Can’t tell my friends, ‘cause they will laugh; I love a member of the staff.”

You sneaked a glance at the driver’s seat, where Aizawa was fighting traffic, his erection, and his incredulity at what he was hearing.

“I fight my way to the front of class to get the best view of her—”

Aizawa changed stations before the singer could finish the couplet, and he sank into his seat at the safe sounds of synth and guitar, but you sat up straight, eyes wide and biting back a laugh, because you knew what the fuck was coming:

“Don’t stand—don’t stand so, don’t stand so close to me—”

Aizawa smashed the radio’s off button, seething. He ran his fingers back through his hair, and after a deep breath, he opened his mouth. “What’d you do,” he asked flatly.

“Me?” you said, pointing at yourself, doing your fucking best not to smile, “What makes you think I’ve done something?”

Aizawa was panting. Chest heaving. Sweat visibly dripping down his face. Free hand darting between a superfluous position on the wheel, resting on the car door, and bunching up his jumpsuit to hide his erection, which only drew attention to it. “You didn’t—you and Nemuri didn’t orchestrate all this, did you?” he asked, teeming with nervous energy, “It’s a little—it’s a little too perfect for you, to get to see me dishevelled and desperate, to nearly get me to cave into what you want.”

Several feelings flooded you at once: revulsion at the suggestion you made a criminal use her quirk on you, anger that he’d even consider it to be in your character when he’s known you for years (and more anger that he thought you would want to lose your virginity with three other guys in the room), a wretched, clawing desperation to prove him wrong and beg for forgiveness—and a creeping disgust and shame towards yourself, for having been so vulnerable in his presence when he didn’t want it or you.

Time to shut down. “C’mon, Aizawa. That’s not very logical in the grand scheme of things,” you said, scathingly using his favourite word, propping your chin on your fist, and leaning against the window again, “And if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t let it end with my fucking soulmate going to someone else to make him come, especially when I was similarly helpless.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you—”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence,” you said bitterly, “but I wouldn’t do that. To you or to me. I don’t do things that would humiliate or hurt you.” You scooted closer towards the car window, away from him and his stupid pine aftershave. “I guess I’m a brat, yeah, but I’m not mean.”

To have something to do instead of talk to him, you exhumed the car manual from the glove compartment and started to read it, and you read that dull fucking piece of crap until you were forced to punch in your clearance codes for Sakura Grove.

As soon as he was inside the main building and out of sight, you slammed the manual and the glove compartment shut, and you screamed. No one would’ve heard you over the thunderstorm, anyway. Comforting that the weather was as angry as you.

You unbuckled and cosied up in your seat, glaring at the curtain of mist blowing rain horizontal outside. Lightning illuminated a worker rushing from one building to another, and she had to double back to get her ballet flat, hopping slightly to put it back on.

You don’t have another work shift until Monday, but you kind of wanted to clock in, anyway. It’d be satisfying to bitch about the whole thing with Ito. She’d tear into Aizawa. He deserves it.

Slunking down into your seat, you were struck with new terror: what if Aizawa were right? What if you did, inadvertently, plan this out, by inhaling Ito’s quirk dust a second time? Sex pollen was…sex pollen was a trope. A pretty fucking common one.

Oh, my God.

You clamped a hand over your mouth and tried to work out the logistics. Serendipity was already scheduled to arrive in Japan regardless of you inhaling the dust again, and—fuck fuck fuck. You didn’t like this.

You swallowed thickly, turning it all over in your head, and as the variables overlapped and blurred in your mind, you started to cry.

“Goddammit,” you said aloud, sitting up and dabbing at your face with your sleeve. You’ve already cried a lot today, and it’s not even noon. You’re taking a nap when you get back to campus.

You know who else likes naps?

You fucking sobbed harder, even though you were laughing a bit, too. You decided that you were too worn out to make any sound judgments. Go to sleep once you get back, and think about it when you wake up.

You sniffed and looked towards the door to the main building. God, he’s taking a long time. You’d figure that he’d edged himself to oblivion and back during the car ride, but no—

The next instant, you tensed up, frazzled, because a half-dressed Aizawa’s straddling you, hips jerking, driving into your own and biting into his fist as he came on your shirt, cum spurting all the way up to your boobs.

The groan he released once the spill of his cum slowed to a slight dribble nearly wrecked your ears and stopped your breath. You’re hastily, desperately drinking up details, eyes flicking over them rapidly in case they’re snatched away before you could notice: the weeping, pink tip of his cock, the only part of his dick peeking out of his jumpsuit’s lower half—the trail of dark hair leading up to it from his naval, framed by an infuriating v on his lithely muscled abdomen—all of his exposed, corded muscles of his chest, tendons visibly stretching and contracting in his forearms—and when he wiped that final drop of cum off his cock, it was with the thumb stained with soulmark pink.

Of course, for how much relaxation coursed through his body, it all fled him the second he finally opened his eyes.

You expected that he’d scramble to cover himself up and off of you, but once that initial panic faded, all he was left with was resignation. He yanked up the elastic of his boxer-briefs to hide his cock, and, sighing, he said, “Please. Please don’t say anything. I can’t handle it right now.”

You nodded. His eyes travelled over your face, his expression cracking. “You’re crying,” he said, voice breaking.

“Not because of you,” you said, wiping at your tears, “It’s something I did.”

He wiped away the tear stains on your other cheek. “Let’s find something to clean you up.”

While he twisted to fossick through the console for tissues, you swiped two fingers through the stuff on your shirt. So, this was a man’s cum. Weird. Thick. (You’ve seen some before; you’re not an idiot, but this was your first time, uh, experiencing it. Honestly, it reminded you a bit of the congealed quirk stuff earlier.) You rubbed it between your fingers.

“Oh, what are you doing—no, stop that,” said Aizawa softly, swatting your hand away from your cum-stained shirt. When you eyed the bit on your fingers, Aizawa sighed again. “Don’t taste it.”

He took your hand and wiped it clean, pink ink seeping across skin with every brief touch. He gave you a tissue from the pack he found for your tears, and he used the rest to wipe off your shirt.

“Doesn’t look like there’s anything else for you to wear,” he said, checking the backseat.

“It’s okay,” you said, balling up the tissues and putting them in the centre console, “We’re going straight back to campus. I’ll just shower and go to bed.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Aizawa, and he lifted himself from your lap and moved to cross to the driver’s seat.

You grabbed his arm to stop him. “You should, too. Don’t run yourself dry.”

Aizawa froze, considering, and then he nodded, slowly sinking back onto your lap.

He braced his hands on his thighs. “I’ve been cruel to you.”

Too exhausted to argue, you shrugged. “You have your reasons.”

“I shouldn’t be so cold to you, though. It’s been wearing away at my conscience,” he said, patting his pockets on his thighs and moving down to his calves. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he said, “Give me your phone. You deserve my number, at least.”

You pulled yours out and opened a new contact before handing it over. “You’re sure you’re comfortable with that?”

“Yeah,” said Aizawa, tapping the screen, “So long as it doesn’t…lead to anything out of bounds. And…maybe you can stick around for a while next time you shift in your sleep.” He shot you a smirk as he returned your phone.

The contact name simply read Shouta. No surname or honorifics. Just Shouta.

Heat rose to your face, but it was much pleasanter than when it had earlier that day.

“Are you good to drive back to campus?”

Tilting your head, you pocketed your phone again. “Yeah, I’m up for it.”

“Good,” he said, climbing off of your lap and into the backseat, “I’m going the fuck to sleep.”

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz, @kissmebakugou, @pachiibatt, @celestair

#bnha #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa/reader #aizawa imagine #aizawa fic #mha #aizawa headcanons #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa fanfic #aizawa shouta x reader #soulmates #soulmate #soulmate au #dash it all

[sl0t4matt]

l. yamal bf! headcanons (requested)

i didn’t know what to write abt this one he’s so younggg, but for the person requesting, i hope i did okay :))

❀bf! lamine, that has loved you ever since you were little.

❀bf! lamine, that would talk shit with you about the referee’s and rival players, complaining as to why they would play so unfairly and the refs that have obviously been bought.

❀bf! lamine, that you were so proud of when he got his debut for the first team since it always has been his dream to become one of the barcelona legends.

❀bf! lamine, that you can completely be yourself with because he always matches your energy.

❀bf! lamine, that always puts you in his tiktok dumps wether it being a cute picture of you or one of the both of you. he always wants to show you off.

❀bf! lamine, that is a big romantic and takes you to cute but also thoughtful dates, like the picnic you both did.

❀bf! lamine, that loves to annoy the shit out of you, it being his way of flirting.

❀bf! lamine, who (when at schoo) would yap with to you about literally anything instead of doing his work, mostly talking about the most ridiculous topics like how he thinks that “people who squint are cringey af”. but you’re not exactly better. people would call the two of you the yapping duo, as dumb as it sounds, it was true. the both of you never seem to shut up, getting glares from anyone that would listen to you.

❀bf! lamine that would send you pictures of messi and his wife writing next to them: “us”.

❀bf! lamine that only reply’s to haters comments when it’s about you. he’s fine if someone has something against him but when it’s about you that crosses the line. he would hate to see worrying about dumb, jealous people. “she doesn’t even look that good.” “stfu.”

❀bf! lamine, who gets yelled at by xavi because he keeps texting you.

❀bf! lamine, that sends you pictures of the sunset because you love of them so much.

❀bf! lamine, that complaints about how you always take his hoodies, but secretly loves it because when you give them back they smell like you.

❀bf! lamine, that hates it when you call him bro (you do it on purpose to provoke him)

❀bf! lamine, that remembers everything about you. “i remember you said you liked this, so i got it for you”

❀bf! lamine, that can’t help but blush when you do such simple things like complimenting him. “you look so cute in that pink hoodie.” “stop, oh my god.”

❀bf! lamine, that won’t let you pay whenever you’re with him. “why did you even bring your wallet, i’m gonna pay anyways.”

❀bf! lamine, that calls you whenever he’s in another country because of a game.

❀bf! lamine, who’s comments are down baddd whenever you post something. “you look so good, can you tell me to kms🙏🏼” “bro i want you so bad, what do you want me to do, i will do anything for you.” “someone take my phone away🫣�� sometimes you can’t even tell wether he’s joking or not.

❀bf! lamine, that is soo clingy with you, always feeling the need to hold your hand, somehow wanting to show his love for you.

❀bf! lamine, that secretly loves the edits you send of him. they do make him look good, you got to admit.

#barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #joao felix #lamine yamal #hector fort #marc guiu #la masia

[layviyu]

PJSK CHARACTERS WATCHING THEIR S/O DIE OVER AND OVER

short desc: kinda like the madoka magica plot where homura becomes a traumatized war veteran because madoka always dies

type: bulleted hcs

characters: hinomori shizuku, mochizuki honami, kamishiro rui, shinonome ena, aoyagi toya

genre: slight angst

note: i wrote this on january 2023 and i dont remember anything so it probably sucks

@ hinomori shizuku

shizuku was completely exhausted, to say the least.

she couldn’t bear the feeling of losing you and having to start over every time. having to turn the both of you into strangers again. her loving you with all her heart, and you not even knowing who she is.

even shiho, who’s not the closest to her sister, notices her sudden mood drop, yet, uncertain of what could be troubling her, she decides not to ask.

whenever shizuku sees you for the ‘first time’ again, she wishes she could tell you what to do to avoid your death, but she couldn’t — that would only make things worse, and she’s very well aware of that.

as much as it pains her, she can only do small things to try to change the future, for now.

“I promise you, one day, it’ll be over. And when that day comes, I can finally spend my so-desired time with you.”

@ mochizuki honami

what was honami doing wrong?

she did everything, everything, to avoid that terrible fate. but it couldn’t be helped — it would still happen, no matter how much she tried.

she gave her all, she devoted herself to saving you. she was trying her best, her all, to keep you safe and alive. apparently, it wasn’t good enough. it was never good enough. every time, you’d end up dying in her arms. over and over.

whenever she sees you for the ‘first time’, she feels her heart ache. knowing that she’ll have to go through everything again and again, only for a false image of hope that maybe, maybe she could save you.

she never had the chance to tell you the words she was dying to say. even in your last moments, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. ever since the first tragedy, you’ve never heard the words ‘I love you’ from her ever again.

“Once I can finally let my guard down, then I’ll allow myself to soften at your touch. I love you. Evsen if I’m not ready to say it, I hope you know that.”

@ kamishiro rui

as much as he wanted to, rui couldn’t give up. not yet. not until he saved you.

why him? why you? why did you both have to be disturbed in such a manner?

in the beginning, he thought himself to be really lucky, to have the opportunity of being with you one more time. but as more time passed, he started to believe this was not a blessing — but instead a curse.

waking up, knowing that he’d try his all to save you but being aware that it all would go to waste, was extremely exhausting.

whenever he saw you for the ‘first time’, he could feel himself relaxing at the thought of being together with you again. having your hands run through his hair, having you laugh at his cringey pick-up lines... he yearned for that, even if he knew he couldn’t have it, at least not at that time.

he watched you die over and over. eventually, death was not a new concept to him. but every time, even knowing it wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last, watching your lifeless body always gave him a feeling of despair.s

you always called him a genius, then, why? why couldn’t he come up with a brilliant plan, as you’d say, to save you? why couldn’t he save the one person who stood by him at all times?

“I want to be with you so bad, but still, I’m not able to keep you here long enough. What am I doing wrong, my love?”

@ shinonome ena

this wasn’t fair. this wasn’t fair at all. why did they have to take you — ena’s favorite person?

she’d give 110% of her to keep you, even knowing that she couldn’t be with you, knowing that you’d die again, she still chased after your life as if it’d be the last thing she’ll ever do.

sometimes, she couldn’t help but being irritated. if only she didn’t love you, this wouldn’t be happening to her. she was very well-aware that this was one selfish thought, but she thought about it every now and then. despite being mad, she could never say that she regretted loving you.

whenever she saw you for the ‘first time’, she knew it was important to keep her distance, for your safety. despite that, she glanced at you quite often, fighting the urge to go after you.

having to be emotionally distant from you frustrated her. she watched you talk to a lot of people throughout the day, knowing that she wouldn’t be one of them. after all, you were still her significant other, even if you didn’t know it.

“Why won’t you simply stay?! Damn it... I want you to be safe, be alive, be mine! And I’ll make sure it happens, even if it takes a hundred... no, a thousand times.”

@ aoyagi toya

the only thing toya wished for was for it to be over.

it was extremely tiring. he’d never do something that pains him, but he couldn’t give up on you just yet. even if he has to go through the same feeling of emptiness every time, he’s willing to do it, if it means saving you.

not only that, but even his bandmates notice his sudden lack of motivation. every time, akito confronted him about that, but he never answered. he couldn’t tell him the truth, he’d never believe it. it was awful to avoid his best friend, but he couldn’t help it, rescuing you was his top priority.

whenever he saw you for the ‘first time’, you merely looking at him already made his heart flutter, as if it were before the tragedy. he loved to see you so... lively. yet, he knew he shouldn’t let his guard down, as he was already aware of what would happen.

he tried his best to keep you away from danger, directly or indirectly, but none of his actions seemed to help. in the end, he always held your lifeless body, never having the chance to confess his undying love for you once more.

“I’ll do everything for things to go back as they used to be. Even if it takes thousands of times, I won’t give up, not until I make sure you’re safe.”

layviyu — do not repost my work on any other social media

posted on: 01/03/2024 — last edited on: 01/14/2024

#kamishiro rui x reader #project sekai #project sekai headcanons #pjsk #pjsekai #proseka #honami mochizuki #mochizuki honami #mochizuki honami x reader #honami mochizuki x reader #hinomori shizuku #shizuku hinomori #hinomori shizuku x reader #shizuku hinomori x reader #rui kamishiro #kamishiro rui #rui kamishiro x reader #ena shinonome #shinonome ena #shinonome ena x reader #ena shinonome x reader #toya aoyagi #aoyagi toya #toya aoyagi x reader #aoyagi toya x reader #pjsk x reader #project sekai x reader #x reader #pjsk honami #✦ — love is the reason

[multifandomsw]

Apologies

Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: angst, fluff, loneliness, depression?, mental health, anxiety

summary: After an encounter with your old best friend, she gave you her number to catch up. When you decide to send her a message, someone else replies. Was it destiny?

author‘s note: I hope this is not too cringey, I‘m trying my best! If you want to be added to the taglist, just comment :) Btw, I’d love to hear your opinions!!

Part 2

Apologies masterlist

OH AND BTW I NEED SOME HARRY FRIENDS SO PLEASEEE MESSAGE ME SO WE CAN TALK!

You: Sooo

H: So?

You: What if you’re lying?

H: Lying about… what?

You: Oh my god. You use dots. You‘re definitely an old man!!

H: We‘ve been over this.

You: Yes, but I need proof

H: Fine. You can ask me anything you want

You: What do you do for a living?

H: I‘m working in the music industry

You: Woah. Okay. That‘s not what an old man would come up with I guess.

You: Unless you USED to work in the music industry.

H: It‘s very hard to gain your trust

You: Good observation

You: Where are you from?

H: How does that have anything to do with my age?

You: Just answer it!

H: England and you?

You: Hey, I‘m asking the questions!

You: Who is Taylor Swift?

H: She’s an American singer. She’s actually on tour right now. It’s called the Eras Tour

You: I’m convinced

H: What? Really? That easily?

You: I have enough proof

You: Unless you want me to doubt you again

H: NO!

H: Now it’s my turn to ask the questions :)

—

You tried your best to keep your eyes from moving to the couple in front of you, you really did.

However, every time you saw love surrounding you in any way, you couldn’t stop looking, even staring.

Most of the times your heart swelled with love at just the sight. A happy feeling would shoot through your whole body, a smile instantly grazing your lips.

It didn’t work this time.

There were no empty seats left, so the woman was sitting on the man’s lap. He had his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, propping his chin on her shoulder while she was giggling at something he said, lightly slapping his arm.

You were mainly focused on the way the man was looking at her. His eyes were filled with so much love, so much adoration. His face softened when she giggled and you could almost see his dilated pupils.

He was in love.

And at that moment, you wished you were in love, too. So badly that your heart ached at even the thought of being in love and being loved in return.

You shook your head at your own stupidity, no one would ever love you. In fact, you came to the conclusion that you were unlovable. You thought you didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve to be someone’s first choice.

You never were and would most certainly never be.

Still, it hurt. Hurt watching everyone around you be so entranced by love. You lost your closest friends because of it, because they prioritized their relationships and slowly came to forget you.

You would have never done that to them, you were certain of it, but you wondered if you would see it another way if you yourself had a partner.

Did love really do that to people? Make them forget about everyone and everything else? You were practically non existent to your friends, you could not even remember the last time you spoke to them.

If love could truly make you forget about everything, you wanted to experience it.

You wanted to forget about your loneliness, your depression, your mental health and put your focus on one person.

You scoffed at your train of thoughts, no one would ever want to be with you that way. You had accepted it a long time ago, but the thought of it alone managed to make your eyes water.

It was hard. Very hard.

You quickly wiped the tears away from your cheeks and took in a deep breath before you pulled your phone out of your pocket.

You: Do you ever feel lonely?

H: Hey, are you alright?

You: Just answer it. I don’t want to be the only person to feel that way

H: I do. Very often. And so do other people. You’re far from being the only one that feels that way, trust me. You’re not alone.

You: When do you feel lonely?

H: Most of the time, actually. I love my job, I really do, but working as a musician also means traveling a lot. I never stay at one place for a long time. It’s very hard sometimes.

You: Oh, I’m really sorry. Are you a songwriter? Or a guitarist? Or a signer?

H: I’m all three?? Kind of?

You: I’m so jealous. I can’t even play an instrument.

H: I’ll teach you- hey wait! You’re trying to distract me. Tell me what’s wrong.

You: I saw a couple on my way home. It just made me feel lonely. Knowing I’ll never have that.

H: What do you mean you’ll never have that? Who said that?

You: I don’t think anyone will ever love me that way

H: Bullshit.

You: Sorry?

H: I don’t know why you think that, but it’s utter bullshit. Everyone will experience love at some point. And so will you.

You: Do you think so?

H: I know it. I’m sure you’re a very sweet and loving person. You seem like one.

You: Thank you, H.

H: Anytime, Cherry

You: Are you in a relationship?

H: Oh. No I’m not. It never works out. My schedule is too tight for love, I barely have any time

You: I’m sorry

H: It’s okay. I can talk to you now :)

—

You: THE MOST EMBARRASSING THING HAPPENED TO ME TODAY!!

You: I’m dying of embarrassment.

You: H!!!!

H: WHAT HAPPENED?

You: Okay so I went to H&M and bought some thongs

H: Why would you buy thongs? You said you hated them

You: And then I bumped into an old classmate and I dropped them all! He knelt down and helped me pick them up. I saw that he was kind of uncomfortable and his whole face was turning red! So I said the first thing that came to my mind

H: Oh no, what did you say?

You: That they are for my grandma! I mean who says that?

H: Oh. Hahahha

You: Don’t you dare laugh!

H: I’m not laughing! What did he answer?

You: He muttered something but I didn’t hear it. Then he left the store very quickly

H: Back to my question, why were you buying thongs?

You: Just to feel good about myself. I wanted to try out something new

H: Soo you’re not going on a date?

You: I wish

—

Harry nervously fiddled with his fingers as he watched the opening act, Wet leg, play for his show.

He needed to calm down, he was never so nervous, never filled with so much anxiety.

It felt like he couldn’t breathe, like all air was being sucked out of his lungs. His breaths were short and uneven.

He swallowed hard, gulping down the tears that were building in his eyes. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t act as if everything was fine.

He shouldn’t have opened Twitter, he shouldn’t have read the tweets about his latest show, but he couldn’t help himself, it was addictive.

Everyone was criticizing him, pointing out that he wasn’t so cheery and happy anymore, that his shows were boring and that his interactions with his fans decreased.

Lately, Harry has been feeling very homesick and lonely. Whenever he went on stage, he would already be looking forward to finally finishing his shows. He wanted to stay in his hotel rooms all day. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his family again, see his friends again.

It was all just too much.

The only thing he was looking forward these days was writing you-

Wait.

H: Hi, are you there?

Cherry: Yes! What’s up?

H: I have five minutes. I need to calm down.

Cherry: H, tell me what is bothering you

H: I’m feeling really homesick. I don’t enjoy going on stage anymore. I’m feeling really anxious to go. I just want to go home. I want to see my parents, my siblings, my friends.

Cherry: When will you see them again?

H: In a few weeks.

Cherry: Okay, here’s what you will do. You’ll go on that stage and think of them, how proud they are of you. They’re looking forward to seeing you. That should be your motivation. Seeing them soon.

H: Okay. That’s what I will do

Cherry: Good luck, H!

H: Thank you, Cherry

Harry put his phone away, realizing that he didn’t even have to put on a brave smile because he was already grinning like an idiot. Only because of you.

And when he sang, he didn’t only think of his family and his friends, he also thought of you.

—

Cherry: Are you a famous singer?

H: What?

Cherry: Because you always talk about your shows

Harry wanted, desperately wanted to tell you the truth, who he really was, but he couldn’t.

You were the first person he could truly be himself with, he could tell you everything without being afraid that you only listened to him and talked to him because he was Harry Styles.

You were just talking to H. He was not a one of the most famous singers when he was writing with you, he was just himself. He didn’t have to hold up to any expectations, didn’t have to be afraid to say the wrong things.

He didn’t want to lose that privilege, even if it meant lying to you.

H: Oh, I’m only the guitarist of a small band. I’m not famous yet

Cherry: That’s good, I was afraid you’d be famous

H: Oh. Would that be so bad?

Cherry: No, of course not! But most famous singers tend to be a little self absorbed. I don’t really like rich people

H: I get that, but not everyone’s like that

Cherry: That’s why I said MOST.

H: Who are your favorite singers?

Cherry: I WAS WAITING FOR YOU TO ASK ME THAT! Okay so I’ll tell you my top three.

H: I have high expectations

Cherry: Taylor Swift

H: Great choice, but I already knew that.

Cherry: Hm. I love Artic Monkeys.

H: Oh, I love them, too!

Cherry: And my favorite singer is Harry Styles!!

Harry’s heartbeat increased by just looking at the message. He felt his anxiety returning. You were a fan of his? He hoped, with all his heart, that you wouldn’t be one of his toxic fans, that you didn’t sexualize him. Deep down, he knew you weren’t, bur he couldn’t shake off the fear.

H: Why do you like him?

Cherry: I love his music and he appears to be one of the kindest and sweetest people ever. At least in interviews and during his shows.

H: That’s it?

Cherry: Yes! I hate toxic fans that only sexualize him. At the end of the day, he’s one of us. He has feelings. Do you like him, too?

H: Yeah, I guess he’s okay

Cherry: You guess he’s okay? What kind of answer is that? He’s great.

H: Okay, okay, he’s great.

Harry widely smiled at the screen, biting his lip in excitement. You thought he was kind, you thought he was sweet.

You.

He felt ridiculous, for being so excited over it, but he couldn’t help it. He loved writing with you, he loved that he could talk to you all day, he loved that you listened to his problems and that you trusted him with yours.

You seemed like such a lovely person and he hated that others and you yourself didn’t see it that way. He hated that you thought that you were not enough when you already meant so much to him.

“What are you smiling at?”, Jeff chirped in. “You need to get ready.”, he smiled at Harry, but let his eyes wander to Harry’s phone.

Lately, Harry had been constantly writing with someone. He was always on his phone, smiling like an idiot. Jeff thought it were just some friends in the beginning, but the way Harry smiled from ear to ear was not the way he smiled at his friends. This was someone else.

Harry raised his head, a small blush creeping on his cheeks. “I’m not smiling.”

“You are.”, Jeff pointed out, sitting down on the couch next to him. “Who is it? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you so happy.”

Harry put his phone away, looking at his painted fingernails and deciding whether he should tell Jeff.

This whole thing was crazy. Would Jeff think so, too?

“It’s-“, Harry began, coughing before he continued. “It’s this girl I’ve been writing with. She’s really lovely.”

Jeff grinned at Harry, slapping him on his back. “It’s time for you to find love, too. Where’s she from? Maybe she can attend one of your shows.”

Harry bit his lip, sighing loudly. He didn’t want to say it, and yet he had to.

“She doesn’t know who I am. I don’t know who she is. We’re just writing. An old friend gave her the wrong number and-“

“What?”, Jeff questioned in disbelief. “I know.”, Harry whispered back. “But I can just be myself when we message each other, I don’t have to put up a facade.”

“Will you tell her who you are?”, Jeff wanted to know. “I- I don’t want to. But I know I’ll have to at some point. I just want it to stay like this, but I also want to know who she really is. What she looks like. I want to get to know her.”

Jeff bit his lip, not even knowing how to answer. It was stupid, writing with someone without even knowing who the person is. But Harry seemed to happy, so entranced by you. “You should eventually tell her. It’s going to mess everything up if you’re not honest.”, Jeff explained. “Now come on, let’s get you ready for the show.”

Before he stood up, he checked his phone one last time, seeing a message that sucked all the air out of his lungs.

You: He is great! I have two tickets for one of his shows. I really want to go, but I don’t have anyone to go with.

taglist: @st-ev-ie

#angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles

[elcpsstuff]

The Summer I Remembered You (C.F) (Part 4)

a/n: how we feeling so far you guys? I don’t know how long this story will be but definitely at least 10 chapters if not more :) enjoy!

—

2 years go, age 15 (Fall)

“Frankie gets me so angry sometimes, even though I love her” I tell Conrad over the phone as I walk outside. The cool night breeze hits me like a wave I’ve been waiting for.

“she’s a lot, but she has a good heart” He replies.

“you do remember when she came for the fourth this summer?” I could hear him laugh through the phone.

“Yeah, how could i forget when she sucked off Jeremiah’s face during spin the bottle.”

That’s right. She did do that. I still remember when she had purposely stopped the bottle to land on him. Only I had noticed.

Silence had never been more noticeable.

“Well,” Conrad starts, “I wouldn’t have kissed her.”

I smile. “That would be funny.” No it wouldn’t. I would’ve lost all my brain cells. Jeremiah was hard enough.

I hear him laugh through the phone silently.

“So I learned something today.” I say, sitting down at the steps of our driveway.

“oh yeah? tell me.” I could tell he was smiling which made me smile.

“So my science teacher is a total love sap, and she told us today that if we see a shooting star it’s a sign of love, and that we’ve found our soulmate.” I couldn’t help the laugh that left my lips. “Isn’t that weird? She’s so cringey.”

Conrad didn’t say anything.

“Conrad?”

“That’s cute.” He says softly.

“Of course you would think it is.” I roll my eyes playfully.

“Hey, stop that.”

I giggle. “You can’t really make me stop, your hours away.”

“I wish I wasn’t. I miss you.” He says so quietly, like he didn’t want me to hear. But I did anyways. I always heard Conrad.

“I miss you too. Don’t worry though, the summers come fast.” I reassure him, and I think myself too.

“yn! What are you doing out here?” I hear a voice yell and I know it’s Stevens. I pull my phone away from my ear and see it’s 12:06 am. Shit. it’s late.

“Your gonna get kidnapped! Who are you talking to?”

Conrad laughs from the other side of the phone, “Is that Steven? And are you outside?”

“Shhh hold on.” I pull the phone away from my ear and look towards the figure which I make out as Steven, “give me a minute please!”

“Now!”

I sigh, pulling the phone back to my ear, “I should probably get to bed anyways, I have morning volleyball practice tomorrow.”

“It’s Saturday?”

“Coach doesn’t care.” I say with a small laugh thinking about what my coach would do If i didn’t show up.

“Well, I should get going too, I need to look for my shooting star.”

I laugh, “What? In a hurry to find your soulmate?”

“No, I know I already have.”

—

After changing into more comfortable clothes, I walked into Belly’s room and she was pacing once again.

“Bells? What are you doing?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know what to wear.”

I chuckle while flopping onto her bed, “It’s just a book party. Laurel won’t mind.”

Belly’s face forms this guilty smile and I immediately pick up on it.

“Unless something else is happening I don’t know about?”

She rushes next to me on the bed and looks at me panicked, “What if I told you cam asked me out on a date? And I said yes.”

A smirk appears on my face, “This is new.”

“yn! I need help! I feel like i’m dying.”

I giggle and shove Belly’s shoulder. “Do that flowery crop top. It’s cute.”

She smiles and stands up, grabbing the shirt from her closet. She slips it on and looks in the mirror. She looked really nice.

“See? Perfect.”

She turns back around to face me, “Hey, I saw you and Conrad earlier, what was up with that?”

I feel my hands tense up when she mentions Conrad. The most twisted thought i’ve ever had is that Belly loved me and Conrad not being best friends anymore. She bathed in this situation. I tried not to think it, but she was in love with him. No matter how many dates she went on with Cam.

I hated it. Why? I don’t know.

“Oh, nothing. He was just at the club looking for Nicole and we ended up walking home together.” I lie. I had to because I couldn’t really tell her that we got into a sorta almost fight because he drives me crazy and I can’t stop thinking about last summer, which creeps into my mind every second-

So of course I lied.

“Oh, okay.”

—

I walked downstairs beside Belly and see the boys playing a video game. They were super into it which made me laugh. Conrad still looked moody though.

“Bye guys.” Belly says, attempting to gain the boys attention. Jeremiah looks at Belly and his jaw drops. Of course it did.

“Damn Bells.” He smiles, dropping his remote and walking over to spin Belly around. As much as I hate to say it, it’s cute. This interaction.

Then the moment turned sour because I realized maybe I didn’t really like Jeremiah. Maybe he was just a distraction that I tried to convince myself was real. Maybe I was trying to cover up the truth about him. I can’t even say his name.

“Conrad, over here man.” Steven pushes Conrad’s shoulder and that’s when I notice Conrad staring.

I sigh and turn to Belly, “Have fun, okay? Text me if you need anything.”

She nods and rushes out the door, and I see Jeremiah’s eyes linger to her. Maybe he really did like her.

I smirk and run over to the couch, jumping in the middle of Conrad and Steven and grabbing Jeremiah’s remote.

“Hey!” Jeremiah pouts.

“I’m about to kick all your asses.” I claim. Steven laughs in a manner which meant your not good enough, but try.

Maybe I did loose.

Once the game was done Laurel and Susannah came downstairs and we all got ready to head out. My phone rang when I saw a text from a number. Josh.

Hey stranger. I was thinking, and thinking led me to texting you.

I found myself giggling at his message. He seemed like a good guy. I think Steven picked up on it because he looked at me disapprovingly.

“Yn. Who are you texting?”

Conrad then stood up from the couch.

“Oh.. um just this person.”

Jeremiah smirks and leans over and before I can blink, my phone is gone.

I groan. Shit. “Jeremiah!”

He holds the phone high while reading the message. “ooo, who’s this lover boy?”

I could feel Conrad’s eyes on me. Burning into my soul.

“His name is Josh. He was at the bonfire.” I hold my hand out hoping that was enough proof and to my surprise it was, Jeremiah hands me the phone back.

“I think I know him from around.” Jeremiah states.

“That guys an ass. You could do better.” Conrad blurts out.

Utter silence is all I remember. It was awkward. Painfully awkward. Why did it make me want to slap him but then hug him at the same time? Tell him, it’s okay Connie. Like he had done many times for me.

Like when I was 12 and he was 13. I was upset because I had scraped my leg against the side of the pool and was bleeding. I was being pretty dramatic. That still didn’t stop Conrad from helping me.

“Yn, are you okay?” He reached for my hand and helped me get out of the pool. Tears streamed down my face but he wiped them.

“Here, I’ll help you.” He shared a half smile with me. I nodded, somewhat feeling better.

That was a good day.

“Well, ready to go?” Susannah says, breaking the silence Conrad caused.

We all nod and make our way to the car. This would be one of the longer night in cousins and I felt it.

—

And I drank to that.

I love Laurel, but this party blows ass. Conrad has been drinking in the corner the whole night and I can’t help but want to as well. The drinks look nice.

I slowly walk over to where he’s been pouring drinks the whole night and smile, “Give me some.” I grab a cup.

Even though he tried to hide it, a smile crept up on his face. “Are you gonna proceed to do everything I do?”

I rolled my eyes, “You don’t own drinking.” I take the bottle from him and pour some into my cup. He stares at me and I can’t help but notice.

“What?” I say.

“Nothing.” He turns away, almost giving me the cold shoulder. I want to slap him. Slap him so hard that he falls to the ground and starts bleeding. But I don’t. I don’t because I can’t ruin this night for Laurel.

“Hey, you can have it back now.” I almost whisper, handing the bottle to him. I felt like I was invading his privacy, he had literally been hoarding the drinks the whole night. People were starting to notice.

He nods, putting his hands around the bottle and I can feel his fingertips graze mine. I let go quickly and rush towards the couches where I find Steven and Jeremiah.

“This is so boring.” Jeremiah pouts.

“I don’t see anything else to do.” I say.

“How about we go buy some weed or something?” Jeremiah adds, suddenly perky.

“Or.. we could go to the drive in?” Steven says and he has a smug look on his face. I shake my head immediately.

“Steven, no.”

“Let’s do it.” I hear a voice from behind me speak and I know who it is. It’s the voice that I used to hear. The voice I think I still heard all the time. Whatever I wanted, he didn’t. Whatever I didn’t, he wanted.

All I could do was pull out my phone and send a text to Belly.

please don’t be mad.

—

She was.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?!” Belly screams while getting out of the car. I could see Cam in the distance going to get something, probably food or drinks.

“Relax, Bells.” Jeremiah says through laughs. Belly then looks towards me angrily.

“Belly, I tried to warn you.” I pull out my phone and show her the text message I sent her.

“Steven, if you don’t leave I’ll show everyone in here your Dramoine fanfic.” Stevens face turns red as Conrad and Jeremiah let a few laughs slip.

“He spent a whole chapter on Draco’s wand.” I add.

“Shut up!” Steven yells.

Jeremiah pats Steven on the back, “Don’t be embarrassed man, Draco’s hot.”

Belly than looks at me and Conrad with a soft look, “Can you please leave?”

I nod, “Let’s go.”

Steven sighs and begins to drive back to the house, and I laugh at how dramatic belly is.

I felt Conrad’s head lean on my shoulder and I could also smell the Vodka on him. It was kinda sad. He was so lost. It’s not like he didn’t drink before, but this was different.

I decided it was best not to fight and pretend like everything was fine. Like it was normal.

“Tired?” I whisper.

“Yeah.” He says. Almost like a little kid.

If I closed my eyes or really zoned out, I could pretend this was really normal. Before everything happened. Before everything got so fucked up.

—

heyyyyy! that was it for this chapter :) I’ve been trying my best to get them out so I hope you enjoy. very slow burn if u didn’t notice lol. what do you guys think happened? also like I said lots of flashbacks to get us where we are so hang in there !!

tag list: @kkrenae @callsignwidow @drikawinchester @johannelis2302nely

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #team conrad #team jeremiah #belly conklin #tsitp #conrad x reader #love #summer love

[distortionbobble]

A Knight To Remember

pairing: knight!poc!reader (they/them pronouns used) x prince!anakin skywalker

summary: fantasy au of a certain prince and his knight, because who wouldn't fall in love with anakin skywalker?

warnings: minors dni must have age in bio to interact. anakin being a bit of a slut, fingerbanging, p in v, general smut warnings and a little bit of violence towards the end, and a really cringey pun title

a/n: this is my submission for the lovely @bizarrebankai 's 1K celebration !! so glad they got 1K, she deserves all the followers. anyways, much love to u jules for hosting this fantastic challenge! this probably isn't my best work but.. medieval fantasy skywalker? i couldn't resist myself!! and, as always, likes and comments and reblogs are always appreciated. enjoy!

Anakin wishes he’d never met you. And it’s not because he doesn’t like you— in fact, it’s the opposite, he likes you too damn much for any of this to work. He is, after all, next in line for the throne, while you’re just a member of the king’s guard. As Obi-Wan’s ward, he was trained in every possible duty, every possible obligation and was constantly hyper aware of all that he needed to do. And suddenly you had come along, with that sweet smile of yours, showing him that his title wasn’t why he mattered. He hadn’t felt that in a long time.

But he’s promised to someone else. Padmé Amidala, princess from a neighboring kingdom, was his betrothed and had been since he’d turned nine. It was a political alliance, but at age nine, Anakin had only registered the angelic glow of his fiancee and the fact that she was supposed to be his. She, however, had only seen him as a child, and years later, he realized he couldn’t blame her. Things between the two of them had waxed and waned, instability woven into the very foundations of their relationship. She was sweet, true, but there was something off. Padme wasn’t the type to call out Anakin when he desperately needed it, and couldn’t balance him.

That’s where you differed. You were like any other knight he’d been protected by before, because you simply didn’t let him get away with anything. And you did all of it with the quietest demeanor he’d seen. He thought often of that first night that you’d guarded him; he was convinced that he’d tricked you into thinking he was asleep, and had scaled down the walls of the tower in the dead of the night to go see Padme. But instead, you’d been waiting at the base of the tower, his cloak in your hand.

“My prince,” was all you said when he stared at you, mouth agape in his confusion. “Lady Amidala awaits you, does she not?” You had outsmarted him, and it haunted him for the rest of that night.

And the morning after that, when he was certain that you would’ve reported his illicit actions to King Obi-Wan, but the only surprise that had come forth was you waiting by his bedside the next morning with his breakfast laid out on the table behind you. At first, he’d tried to throw a tantrum; shouted at you, sent every other servant running from his room, all while you stood calmly at his side, unbudging in the face of his glowering. Your unpredictability was what scared him. He didn’t understand you, and it angered him.

“Will you just tell me what you want?” He had caved, finally, as the sun rose to high noon. And you had smiled and placed your palms on the table in his chambers, leaning your weight onto it so your face was mere inches away from his own.

“I’m tasked with protecting you, my Prince. That’s not something I take lightly. But I also can see that nobody’s done the job right. I want you to be honest with me, my Lord, I am not your enemy.”

Anakin hadn’t been the same since.

~~~

“Anakin, we can’t,” Padmé gasps. Her skin is plush and soft as Anakin presses his lips against it, hips grinding against hers. She’s under him on a picnic blanket, covered by the shade of a large oak tree by the banks of the river that borders their two kingdoms.

“And why not, Princess?” He mouths against her skin, delirious from pleasure.

“Your- your guard is right there!” She giggles, rolling her hips upwards to match his movements. He’s caught in between the pendulum of recklessness and sensibility, losing himself to recklessness more and more as his hand trails her inner thighs. The summer heat makes a thin sheen of sweat on her body but she’s sweet nonetheless, pliable to his touch.

“They won’t notice,” he growls into her hair, nipping at her neck before he steals a glance at you. You’re still mounted on your horse, hand toying with the handle of your sword as you gaze over the scene. No, you’re too busy keeping him safe. You’re a damn good guard. “Let me make you feel good.”

~~~

The clip-clop of horsehooves against the road is peaceful, and the presence of you next to him is more intoxicating than the rays of sun on his skin. Anakin looks over at you, transfixed by your brown skin soaking the warm golden light as it caresses your face gently. It doesn’t make sense to him. He should want Padmé, and he does, but you’re… altogether different, and he wants you even more. Even when he was lost in the throes of passion with her moments before, it was you who he imagined when he closed his eyes.

“Is there something the matter, my lord?” You ask him coolly, gaze still trained on the road. He learned long ago that that this wasn’t some sort of tactic to offend him, but rather that you were surveilling each blade of grass with careful, suspect eyes.

Anakin hesitates. Can he even voice what he’s feeling? Part of him doesn’t want to. Part of him can’t stop himself and the words fall out of his mouth like they’ve been burning his tongue to be kept in so long.

“You’re intoxicating,” he blurts. It fazes you, your concentration broken from the surroundings as you turn to face him instead. And you remain characteristically silent, studying his face for any hint of a joke. It makes his stomach churn, even if it’s normal for you, because he just wants you to say something. Anything. But you just stare at him, a frown twisting the corners of your lips downwards, before you return your focus to the road as if he said nothing.

“D-didn’t you hear me?” He asks, confused. You nod sharply, refusing to look at him now. “Well then, won’t you respond?” A sigh flutters past your lips, but nothing else. He feels irritation and anger creep into his fingertips, crawling their way up into his heart so that it beats faster.

“As your Prince, I demand that you respond to me.” Anakin regrets the statement as soon as it leaves his lips, the haughty demand that demeans you and all that you’ve done for him. And for the first time, he sees that stoic mask of yours crack and it’s anger that he sees, anger that he never thought he’d be on the recieving end of.

“How dare you, my liege?” The honorific is tacked on with fury, but the venom you spit is unfinished. “You have the audacity to fuck the Princess in front of me, thinking I won’t notice? And then, moments later, you toy with me such, as if I cannot still see her lip rouge smeared on your lips. It astounds me, your majesty, that you’d think to do this to me. I know not of the arrangement you have with the Princess. But know this, Anakin Skywalker, you will keep me out of—“

You’re interrupted by the hollers and screams that spring from the sides of the roads. Men in loose cotton— bandits— jump out and brandish their swords.

“Fuck,” you curse, swinging your legs off of your horse as you sweep your sword out of its sheathe. Anakin’s quick to join you, metal clanging against metal as they fight the bandits; but they outnumber the two of you, and Anakin’s concentration is wavering from the fury of your rejection. It takes just one wrong step, and suddenly his sword is knocked to the ground with steel kissing the thin skin of his neck.

“You! Drop it if you want him to live!” His captor hollers out, and Anakin feels real fear, sees it in your eyes too as you swallow your emotions and drop your sword to surrender. His knees buckle from his captor kicking them and he falls to the ground with an oof, his wrists tightly bound with cloth as he watches you receive the same treatment.

“Pretty thing, this one,” one of them sneers, brutishly grabbing your chin. Anakin’s grateful that it doesn’t go further that; instead, the two of you are tossed into the back of a cart rather unceremoniously before being dragged away.

“What do you want with us?” You call out to the bandits. There’s not a sign of struggle in your body, and it arouses suspicion in Anakin. What are you planning?

“There’s a bounty on your head. Both of yours,” he answers back, clearly uncaring about the orchestrated kidnapping so long as he gets his coin.

“What are you planning to do to us?” You ask.

The bandit turns back and shoots a look that Anakin almost doesn’t recognize. A look that he’s never been on the recieving end of.

Pity.

~~~

The cell that the both of you are dropped into is dingy and damp, and Anakin can hear the mice scurrying about in the corners. You grunt softly from the force of the stone against your frame, struggling to get yourself upright in the darkness.

“This is my fault,” Anakin bemoans, bringing his head to his knees with his hands still tied tightly behind his back. “If I hadn’t distracted you, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Stop your whining. There’s something much bigger at play, Prince Anakin. And you know it.” Your words unsettle him, and he sits with it for a second.

“A bounty on both of your heads. That’s what he said. They want me and you, but why? It has to be some sort of threat to the kingdom. Eliminate us both and pin it on the Kingdom of Naboo?”

“Possible. Eliminate us both, leaves no survivors and the last witness would be the princess.”

The quiet clatter of a knife falling to the ground makes Anakin’s head shoot up, facing him with the sight of you rolling your sore wrists and wincing.

“You could’ve killed them this whole time,” Anakin realizes. You nod, then collect the knife to work on his restraints. Once he’s freed he still can’t bring himself to stand up, still frozen in his position. You rest your head on the plane of his back, placing a soft hand on his arm as you reassure him silently.

“Milord, what happened earlier… it wasn’t your fault. I apologize for losing my composure. It was unacceptable and I know that I asked for your honesty. But your majesty, you must understand my perspective,” you whisper, caressing his arm softly before you place a kiss on the nape of his neck.

You’ve never shown him such affection.

“I do not wish to be treated as your toy, your majesty. And what I wish for I could not possibly dare to say.” The words are still hushed from your fear.

“Say it.”

“I want you, Anakin Skywalker. To rule my heart as you will these lands someday. I want you selfishly, my lord, I wish to fall at your feet and to be the only devotee there.”

Anakin twists his back to face you, holding your face between his palms as he kisses you for the first time. A kiss that feels like breathing for the first time even as you steal his breath and leave him delirious. You feel more right than existing and it’s now that he realizes he’s been craving you, just you, for all his life.

“I’ll make you mine,” he whispers, bruising your lips with his own as he draws you into him, closer to him, frantically pawing at your body as he grinds you against his bulge. He leaves bite marks on your exposed neckline, marking you as his in that possessive, poisonous way that he’s been burning to do for so long. His. You’re his.

“I’ll burn the world down for you,” he promises, sliding your trousers down and leaving you just in your tunic for easy access. Anakin sinks two fingers into your heat, massaging circles into your wall as he mirrors the action with his thumb on your clit. A woozy pleasure begins to envelop him as you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze ever so slightly, riding his fingers as you near your climax.

“Did you use this on her?” You hiss, kissing him and biting his bottom lip sharp enough to draw blood. “You’re all mine, Skywalker. Mine.”

“Yours,” Anakin gasps as you let go of his neck, undoing his trousers and pumping his shaft. You align his shaft with your dripping hole, ripping out his fingers and replacing it with his length. You’re messy and quick as you fuck him, spreading your arousal over his thighs and your own as you bounce and grind your hips, bucking furiously as you tangle your fingers in his hair. Your tongue is sloppy and flat against his own, as desperate for him as he is for you.

His thumb plays against your clit as you grind, your bones pressing against his base. You’re desperate in your chase for your pleasure, uncaring of him and it drives him mad, blood coursing to his cock as he watches you. He snakes his hands under your tunic as you fuck him, thumbing your nipples and plucking at the sensitive buds. The moan that you elicit in response makes him buck his hips up. You pull him close to you as your walls begin to flutter around him and your legs convulse, finally reaching your peak.

“I’m close,” he gasps, watching your face contort in pleasure. You’re quick to pull yourself off of him, replacing yourself with your hand and working his length until he spills onto the hay in the cell with a grunt. You pull him in for one last sloppy kiss before you pull your trousers up, pulling your daggers out of their sheathes. As Anakin pulls himself together, you pick the lock of the cell with a rather slender-looking tool. You sneak out quickly and quietly, any sound of yours covered by the rambunctious party going on elsewhere in the castle.

The sound of blood splattering on the stone walls makes him run out, where you stand above the assigned guard, crimson dripping off of your daggers. You wipe them on the dead man’s cheek, anger storming in your eyes as you look at Anakin. He recognizes that look. The lover he’d been in minutes earlier had gone, replaced with a machine of fury and steel that serves at his command.

“We’ve likely got, at most, a few minutes before they come to find us. We were probably their dinner party entertainment, so we must make it out of here. Quick,” he murmurs, signaling to move forward as he takes the sword from the guard. The two of you are quick and quiet as you make your way up the stairwell, plastered to the stone walls.

“Hey!” A man shouts, but you’re quicker than he is, silencing him with a dagger flying clean into his throat. You leave a trail of bodies and blood in your wake, making it to the great hall unscathed and silently. The two of you are molded to the shadows, power in your movements as you watch and wait for the leader to make his move.

You’re rewarded when a hooded figure stands up amidst the celebration, a silence settling on the audience as he removes his hood.

“Chancellor Palpatine,” Anakin realizes in horror, rage flushing his body with heat as the betrayal of one of the kingdom’s allies sinks in. He looks around quietly, a plan formulating as he internalizes the betrayal. He signals for you to follow him to the stables, stealing two horses and mounting them before riding them through the castle. By the time you return, the hushed confusion of the crowd indicates their awareness of your disappearance.

“Search the castle!” Palpatine bellows, the resounding crash of metal echoing in the face of his anger.

“No need, Palpatine. I’m right here,” Anakin shouts out from the entrance of the hall, kicking the sides of the horse to race through the hall and onto the table. You follow behind him, daggers flying as you kill anyone that gets in his way. Anakin’s sword quickly decapitates Palpatine, the dead Chancellor’s head dripping blood on the food of Anakin’s enemies.

“Let this be a warning,” Anakin shouts, “lest any of you get the idea that the Kingdom of Coruscant will tolerate the disrespect of its Prince or of the Prince’s Guard— if I get word of there being a bounty or so much as a wish to hurt a hair on their body, I will not rest until the earth is stained red with your blood, and the blood of your sons and daughters.”

~~~

“Do you think they’ll come after Coruscant?” You ask on the way back, the clip-clop of the horses puncturing the silence of the night. Anakin doesn’t respond, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

“Whatever battles we must fight, we’ll fight it together,” he reassured, placing a kiss on your hand. “That, I promise you.”

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