#ex to lovers

[writesleah]

the way i loved you ✰ m. riddle

➻ pairing: reader x mattheo riddle, brief reader x cedric diggory

➻ genre: angst/fluff

➻ summary: after a hard breakup, you had finally moved on and found your perfect man. he was everything you could’ve asked for, but the lingering thoughts of your ex take a toll on you

➻ warnings: swearing, mentions of blood and fighting, borderline betraying cedric :(

➻ word count: 1.8k

➻ a/n: if it’s not already completely obvious, i was listening to the way i loved you by taylor swift when i thought of this lmaooo i couldn’t fight the taylor references so there is a couple in here, it’s just my deep rooted swiftie mindset

“hey baby. you look beautiful today,” cedric smiled, sitting down at the slytherin table next to you, a bold move for a hufflepuff, but everybody thought he was far too good looking to say anything. well, some people.

mattheo riddle had the absolute nerve to speak up, as if he hadn’t completely ruined your life only months before.

“alright, diggory?” he snorted, looking your boyfriend up and down with disgust. he and cedric probably could’ve gotten along just fine if it wasn’t for the clashing common interest that seemed to have mattheo spitting as many nasty comments as he could - you, “i see you’re still pissing about with her.”

he didn’t even bother to say your name when he was talking about you. twat. you felt your anger starting to pool up in your stomach, a force threatening to take over until a soft hand placed itself on your hip.

“just ignore him, okay?” cedric smiled down at you, encouraging you to do exactly what he was doing. you nodded.

“it’s fine. he’s just… yeah,” you sighed, scrunching your eyes a couple times before continuing to eat, doing your best to ignore mattheo’s presence on just a couple seats down.

—

“he’s perfect,” pansy sighed, practically drooling over your relationship.

you had shown the girls the card he had made for valentines day, which was honestly the smallest thing he’d done for you on the day. he had a tendency to show his affection as much as he possibly could, making you experience every single love language at least once a week.

“that’s adorable, oh my god,” daphne gushed, reading the card over and over. it was a sweet message where he described his love for you, and it definitely warmed your heart, “i’m actually so jealous of what you guys have, it’s not even funny. astoria, come read this.”

astoria made her way over to the group and took the pale pink card from her sister’s hands, her eyes scanning the words that practically formed a letter with how many cedric had written. the three of you watched as her face contorted into an expression of admiration and light jealousy, her cheeks slightly pink.

“stop it, you’re going to make me cry knowing that i don’t have a man that loves me like this,” she whined, punctuating her words with a small laugh.

cedric was your ideal boyfriend. he was attractive, sensible, smart and kind. he got along with your parents and siblings, and always made sure to compliment you in some way every time he saw you. he said everything you ever wanted to hear, and was just perfect for you, so why couldn’t you get mattheo out of your head?

“i need to ask you all something,” you blurted out, a little annoyed at yourself for doing so, but also relieved that you could get it off your chest.

the trio looked over at you with raised eyebrows, waiting for you to continue.

“what is it?” pansy murmured, her head tilted just slightly as her eyes studied you.

"okay, let's just say... hypothetically, you have the most perfect, incredible boyfriend and could never ask for anything better, but… there’s this pesky little lingering thought about a certain past endeavour that you can’t get out of your head.”

the girls looked at you a little confused, though daphne’s expression quickly hardened. she knew exactly what you were talking about.

“please tell me you’re not still thinking about riddle,” she groaned in disappointment, shaking her head whilst running her hands over her face. the other two expressed disapproving noises and sighs, looking at you as if you’d just told them you were going to kill someone.

“it’s mattheo, what do you want me to do?” you mumbled defensively, helping it would support your case a little, but it just made them give you a glare.

“i don’t get what you see in him. he’s a boring, lazy prick who skips every class he possibly can to smoke weed and get plastered with his equally as boring and lazy roadman gang,” astoria huffed with a small shrug, looking at you with more concern than anything, “all you guys would do was scream at each other and cry about it all, and then go and make out in the rain or something, which i suppose is pretty hot, but it doesn’t make up for all the arguing.”

“you go insane when you’re with him. i didn’t even know it was possible to feel that much, but you definitely proved that it is,” pansy snorted, though it was clear her comment wasn’t really a joke.

you just sighed and brushed it off, promising that you wouldn’t do anything. it was just something on your mind, right?

—

you were walking in the corridor on your own, cedric just having left to get to his class, which was on the complete other side of the school to yours.

“rare to see you without prince charming these days. have you broken up already?”

you knew who it was when the first word was spoken, and after days of trying to get him out of your mind, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“do you have nothing better to do than terrorise me and my relationship, riddle?” you spat, turning around to face the boy, though your expression quickly dropped when you saw crimson blood spattered across his face, “why am i not surprised?”

“wow, last name basis now, princess?” he chuckled, brushing off your comment about his injuries with a small huff of either annoyance or amusement, you couldn’t really tell.

you tried to walk away, not wanting to involve yourself in his antics when you couldn’t trust yourself to not snap without somebody nearby to warn you not to. it was hard to control yourself around mattheo for some reason. probably all the pent up anger you had from the relationship and its ending.

“just piss off. i honestly can’t be bothered with you right now,” you sighed, shaking your head. his face dropped at that, seeming much less entertained now that you had say that you genuinely didn’t want to speak to him. he didn’t like that.

“no, absolutely not. what you’re not gonna do is act like a bitch because you’re in a mood about something,” mattheo scoffed, grabbing your wrist to pull you back, leaving a faint, bloody handprint on your skin, to which you groaned at.

“can you not?” you murmured, trying to wipe it off, but only smearing it across your arm further. at this, he sighed and pulled you into the prefect’s bathroom, the nearest place with a sink.

“here, since you apparently need everything done for you. i see some things haven’t changed,” he tugged your arm under the sink and lightly rinsed it away, rolling his eyes as he did so, and taking the chance to wash his own hands, “you’re a real piece of work, you know that? especially these last couple months. i don’t even know what’s happened, but it’s annoying.”

“what happened is we broke up. i’m not going to be your sweet little angel every single day, riddle,” you retorted, shaking your head and patting your arm dry with a paper towel.

“i still don’t get why we ended things,” the brunette shrugged, as if the comment he had just made meant absolutely nothing, “i mean, you’d probably be sat in my lap cleaning me up right now if we hadn’t.”

his words were a harsh reminder of how much things had changed. if he had come to you battered and bruised when you were together, which he had done multiple times before, you would end up sitting in his lap whilst cleaning off all the blood, reprimanding him for getting into fights again whilst trying to fight the incessant butterflies that flapped around so aggressively in your stomach. you were feeling those same butterflies now, too.

“well… we’re not, so you’ll have to settle for some water and a paper towel. maybe you’ll get a plaster if you can find one somewhere,” you scoffed, trying to act as nonchalant as he was.

“come on, princess, don’t be like that,” mattheo groaned, looking at you with a frustrated expression. you didn’t get why he was still calling you princess. he’d taken the pet name he loved using for you so much and turned it into a mocking insult. that hurt you, you had to admit, how he took something so precious and made it into a nickname only used for when he wanted to be rude.

you glanced over at him, meeting his eyes. those eyes. those perfect, dark eyes that, when in the sunlight, turned into a gorgeous, flowing blend of various chocolate shades that sparkled and told so many tales in such little space. you had to chastise yourself for thinking about him so fondly when you swore you disliked him so much.

“why are you doing this to me? acting as if everything’s just perfectly fine and like there isn’t so much shit between us?” you sighed, running your hands over your face out of pure annoyance. why was he acting like this? why were you okay with it?

“i know you. i know every single facial expression you make. every single word you say,” he muttered, studying your face rapidly, “and i know that half the smiles you show off when you’re with diggory are fake. he’s boring you, i can see that clear as day. at least when you were with me, it was fun.”

you shook your head at his words, a soft huff of disbelief forcing itself out of you. deep down inside of you, you know that everything he was saying was true, but you couldn’t admit that. cedric was your boyfriend, you loved him, didn’t you?

“stop it, mattheo,” you pleaded, looking up at the blood-drenched face of the boy you didn’t know whether you adored or despised.

“i was your first… everything, princess. you can’t just deny that what we had was special,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as if he was getting annoyed again, his soft facade crumbling.

“what do you want me to do? apologise?” you breathed out in disbelief, looking at him as if he was insane, “if that’s what you want, then this is me standing in front of you and saying that i’m sorry for what happened that night, and it hurts my pride to say this, but i sometimes find myself wishing i could change my mind. is that what you want from me? i’m sick of these games.”

mattheo seemed to pause at your words, each syllable playing over and over in his head as he registered what you had just admitted. it was as if his entire body just glitched, every muscle coming to a standstill, though his eyes flicked back and forth as if he was reading the words from a book. it took a moment, but he eventually cracked a small smile, his head tilting.

“did you just reference a taylor swift song in your apology, love?”

#fanfic #harry potter #taylor swift #benjamin wadsworth #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #ex to lovers #the way i loved you

[unknownunidentified101]

ONE HELL OF A GREETING

CHARACTERS ; Satoru Gojo x female ! reader

SUMMARY ; ex to lovers ! you thought you would never see him again but when you get drunk at a club, your friend only knows one person to call.

WARNING ; mentions of alcohol, swearing and suggestive

“ why the hell would you drag me out here” you grit your teeth to the brown haired girl. She gave you a sheepish smile in return

“ oh come on [y/n]! You have to lighten up, you look so…you know” Shoko whined back, staring at your appearance up and down.

Shoko was talking about your state after breaking up with her friend. It was a mutual decision… at least you thought it was. You couldn’t help but feel empty after breaking up with the white haired man named ‘Satoru’.

“ …plus. It will be fun! I promise” Shoko clung to your shoulder, her head resting on your shoulder

You give an annoyed sigh, rolling your eyes in exhaustion, “ one time. that’s it” you grumble, opening the glass doors to the club.

You were immediately blinded by the flashing lights

It was an eye sore moving around with Shoko who was a well known figure, greeting people she knew. You didn’t even know how you ended up here. Shoko was always one hell of an convincer.

You felt relieved when you saw a stool, you had to stumble to sit down so you could catch your breath as Shoko closely followed

“ one shot please” Shoko met the bartender who knew her too well. “ I’m guessing it’s the usual” the bartender smiled, preparing a drink in advance

“ two please” Shoko looked at you with a grin. “ Shoko you know I can’t drink” you reason, feeling light headed

“ oh come on! We are at a club! Hey I’m responsible for you, you can attack me in the morning” Shoko took the drink in her hands, sliding one cup to you

“ …I can’t believe you” you give a death glare to the ‘mindful’ woman. “ it’s time to live a little” Shoko gestured, swaying her eyebrows to you

You gave no response, rather it was obvious you were judging her with your eyes, “ …fine [y/n]. if you don’t want it I’ll-“

Without another word you took the glass on the table, gulping down the liquid immediately. You felt the after effects as the burning sensation filled your throat like a bush fire

Shoko smiled.

“ oh shit” Shoko murmured. It had been thirty minutes after you told her that you were taking a walk outside. Her miss calls piled up on your phone. What happened to you? Had you gone home? You would’ve picked up. Shoko mindlessly thought

Shoko bit her nails, thinking of what to do. She couldn’t think of any other solutions to find you without making you mad. There was only one idea in mind. Obviously she couldn’t drive you home after she found you so she had to call someone to do it.

Meanwhile aside Shoko’s worries, you sat at an empty playground.

You were swinging mindlessly, watching your feet dangle forward and back. You felt sick and you had enough of clubbing for tonight . You watched your phone screen light up with another Shoko message and miss call

You breath in and out, putting your phone on silent. “ what are you doing here?” You suddenly heard an all too familiar voice. Your head perks up as you see a figure towering over you

“ none of your business” you spat out, looking back down. “ ouch, that’s one hell of a greeting baby” Gojo kneeled down to look at your face. Your face contracts upon hearing an endearing term. It had been months since your break up and this was your first time seeing the man again.

“ what the hell are you doing here?” You got straight to the point, not wanting to have ‘small talk’. “ Shoko called me, said you were in trouble and I knew you would be here” Gojo explained to you. Looking at his appearance, he looked like he just left his house in a hurry .

“ right..Shoko should of went looking for me” you grumble at your friends choices, head leaning back lazily

“ woah there!” Gojo was quick to cup your head to prevent you from falling backwards on the swing. “ shouldn’t children be playing on these swings?” Gojo teased you as he guided you upwards.

“ oh shut up. I’m leaving” you had enough, not wanting to associate with Satoru- no. “Gojo” anymore.

“ you aren’t in a stable condition, let me drive you home.” Gojo followed you like a lost puppy as you slowly walked away. He had to resort to grabbing your hand after you wouldn’t stop

“ yeah? So are you!” you mumbled without thinking of the effects of your harsh tone. Gojo peered at you through his black glasses before having a defeated sigh

“ fine then you leave me no choice, I’m not letting you get kidnapped” Gojo easily lifted you upwards as if you were a sack of potato’s that he could throw over his shoulder

“ hey! That’s assault!” You started to whin, kicking and trying your attempts to punch the man. Gojo gave an airy laugh, “ you’ll thank me later.”

“ why are you doing this?” You watched Gojo take the keys to your house out of your very own pockets. “ because I’m doing Shoko a favour, she was practically begging me to take you home, she knew you were going to kill her if you didn’t get home safely” Gojo reasoned. It was a lie. He did it for you.

“ so much for friends” you gestured, looking into Gojo’s eyes. Maybe you were hallucinating but you saw a grey tint in Gojo’s under bags, it seemed worse from before but nothing was definite .

“ let’s get you to the bed” Gojo managed to open the door while dragging you inside

You felt slightly better after reaching your home. In fact you felt your home become warm again. It was always cold when you were in it so why did it feel like it was glowing of warmness again?

“ here we go” Gojo guided you to your room. Even after months he still remembered the layout of your house

“ hey.” You stopped Gojo from entering your room. Gojo perked his head to you as if he was all ears

“ thank you.” You quietly murmured. It was a blessing for Gojo to hear such words slip out your mouth. “ it’s fine” Gojo leaned down to observe your features. It was as if the tension had changed, he was staring into your eyes differently this time.

You tensed up, he looked as if he had the urge to say something but didn’t have the confidence to act upon it. You didn’t even know what came over you, maybe it was the influence of the alcohol running through your veins as you collided with Gojo’s lips

It was familiar feeling, it felt minty and refreshing like it always was. You couldn’t help yourself as you wrapped your arms around Gojo’s neck

He was just as aroused as you were. He was shocked that you would be all over him after insulting him to the core moments earlier

You continue to share your lips as Gojo manages to open the door behind you. He didn’t break contact, pressing his body against yours as you stumbled into your bedroom

You felt like whimpering against his lips. “ Satoru..” Your legs felt weak as you fell on the bed with him towering over you.

Gojo stopped after leaving you breathless. His eyes sparkled to you as he took off his glasses, taking a moment to take in the view

“ I cant do this..” he mumbles, his hand trailing off you. You felt like pouting when he parted from you.

“ talk to me in the morning , then I’ll give you that greeting you were looking for baby ” Gojo kissed your forehead.

You sprang out of your bed, the ringing sensation in your mind didn’t seem to go away as you hissed louder. You gawked around your room. How did you get here? All you remembered was that party?

You step out of bed, feeling curious as you looked around

You limped to your bedroom door, hands clutching the doorknob before you swag it wide open. You were met with ocean eyes which totally caught you off guard

You stumbled back as the man held some soup in his hands, “ what are you doing here..?” You manage to murmur.

Gojo perks his head at you, disappointed you didn’t remember the past events. “ who do you think took you home?” Gojo travelled past you, placing the hot soup on your desk

“ you took me home..?” You thought your ears were deceiving you. The last thing you wanted right now was this man driving you home

“ although you were relentless, I couldn’t let you sleep on the streets” Gojo stared at your frame that was stuck in place ( mostly because of shock)

“ did we…” you immediately looked down to see you were fully clothed, indicating your mind thought of other means

“ I mean you were all over me” Gojo mocked you, moving slightly closer to you. “ did you stay here? Where did you sleep?” You ask as many questions as you could

Gojo grumbled and massaged his neck from your scolding, “ relax I slept on the couch, not comfortable by the way” Gojo phrased with his fingers. It was a lie. He stayed by your side the whole night.

“ you have to go” you wrap up, walking to the man and trying your attempts to drag him out the room.

“ hey!? Making me leave so soon- I mean you were all over me yesterday-“, You rush to open the door to your house, yanking the giant man outside to meet with the harsh breezes.

“ this was a mistake.. I’m killing Shoko” you cursed under your breath, your hand slamming the door. Well that was your plan before a hand stopped the door from shutting in time

“ hey hey! Just- let me tell you something” Gojo walked into your house again. The nerve of this man…

“ what??!? What was so important?” You reached your limits, he was really good at pushing your buttons

“ I…can i stay for breakfast..?” Gojo shared an airy laugh. You stared into his pupils. His eye bags seemed more worse then before…

“ maybe you should go home and sleep..look at those eye bags” you tried your best to avoid any more interactions

“ I don’t want to…I wanna stay with you” Gojo grabbed your wrist. You had never seen him like this before. He seemed so… desperate.

“ Gojo- I’ve told you this many times” you wanted so badly to get out of the situation

Gojo frowns, “ my names Satoru” Gojo moved more closely to you. “ well- you know I’ve talked about this! This won’t work” you repeated for god knows how much

“ I know, we can’t be together because they might use you to get to me…but that’s stupid isn’t it?” Gojo chuckled to himself. You stared in utter bewilderment

“ you are also strong baby…please let me stay” Satoru grabbed your wrist, making your hand rest on his cheek

“ I can’t sleep…all I thought about was you…when I got that call from Shoko I sped to get to you” Satoru confessed his deeds to you. It was bittersweet to you.

You swallowed all your pride, the eyes were too hard to ignore. “ fine..you can stay for 5 minutes” you dead-planned. Satoru jolted his head up in excitement, “ 10 minutes?”

—-“ don’t make it 3 minutes”

“ yes ma’am! I figure that’s enough for our greeting”

—- “ what greeting!?!”

#Gojo #Satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #Satoru x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu #jujutsu Gojo #satoru gojō x reader #jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu Kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen X reader #ex to lovers #ex gojo x reader #modern au #anime #anime x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #alcohol #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

chapter six

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.

PREVIOUS NEXT

The baby shower was fantastic. You didn't even miss the baby's father that much. Then you decided to go to bed early. But before you got it falling asleep, you heard the doorbell ring.

"I am going." You say as you walk towards the door, coming face to face with Yoongi. He has a visible bruise, very close to his eyebrow.

"Before you want me to leave, could you take care of that wound?" He asks, looking very downcast. You step back so he can enter his apartment.

"You and I are going to be parents to the same child. Obviously I'm going to take care of you." You say before closing the door and going directly to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. Yoongi sat on the sofa in your living room and stood there muttering words that you didn't quite know what they were.

"I know you're going to want to know what happened..." He says as soon as you sit down in front of him on the couch. You start to apply a product that will clean his wound and he lets out a groan of pain.

"If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. But stay still. Show our daughter that her father is strong enough to withstand this pain." And so you continue bandaging him, while he tries to bear the pain. He doesn't say anything, nor do you. It's frustrating.

"The woman I went out with had a controlling ex-boyfriend. He just showed up at our date and punched me. I defended myself, and when he realized I was famous, he ran off. So, I paid the bill and came here." Yoongi explained as you finished helping him with his wound.

"I'm sorry for you. And for her. No one deserves to go through these things." You say as you put away your first aid kit in the bathroom. When you return to the living room, Yoongi is almost lying down on the couch as if he's exhausted. You sit down beside him, gently stroking his head.

"Do you think I deserve this for what I did to you?" Yoongi speaks with his eyes still closed as you continue to stroke his head.

"No, I don't think so. Yoongi, I don't think you're a bad person. You make questionable choices and you're terrible at both breaking up with someone and proposing, but you're a good guy. You don't deserve to get hit by some ridiculous man who can't get over a breakup. Rest assured." You say reassuringly as you continue to stroke his head.

"I broke up with you against my will. The truth is, a gossip page found out about us. My company asked me to take action to fix it, and I took that step, which is pretty stupid, I know, but it wasn't an easy decision. And in the end, it didn't even matter. Soon, everyone will know that you and I are going to be parents, and personally, I don't care if it disappoints my fans." He says, gently opening his eyes to look at you. As for you, you were a bit emotional, perhaps realizing how fragile your relationship with Yoongi was.

"Do you think your fame would be alright if you were married to the mother of your child for a while and then you separated?" You ask, distancing yourself slightly from Yoongi. He looks at you, confused.

We get married, you announce to the world that you're starting a family. After a year of marriage, we divorce. We'll tell everyone it was the best thing for our family." You propose. Yoongi's eyes widen in surprise, processing your suggestion.

"Are you serious? You'd be willing to do that for me? For us?"He speaks surprised. You know he had proposed something similar before, but now this situation will be on your terms.

"I'm willing to do this for the future of this baby. A fake marriage to sort things out and move on. No feelings involved." You say seriously, and he seems to understand what you're proposing. Honestly, you don't want to get romantically involved with Yoongi again.

"No feelings involved, then." He reaches out his hand towards you, and you shake his hand, as if sealing a deal. You just hope you won't regret this.

#min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #unexpected pregnancy #ex to lovers #namjoon #jin #jhope #jungkook #jimin #taehyung #Spotify #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #female reader #fake marriage

[forbiddenfrvt]

E X S C A P E

thought you were an escape, now i can't escape your grasp | ex-boyfriend!Leon (modern au)

warnings: mentions of cheating and breakups (past and present), unknowing Leon + reader being an asshole, fingering w shifty praise and degradation(? not so much cuz Leon rlly likes you too much for that), AFAB reader/female anatomy, public lewdness, f perversion, messy.

word count: yet to be proofread, will update with count after so.

ps: I do not condone cheating or anything of sorts as written in my fics because they are simply just as is; fictitious. Please do not take to heart what I write, MDNI! block/scroll do not report.

author's notes: this might be heavily inspired of irl :"> I went to watch oppenheimer with my ex and he just came from the gym, needless to say it was something. (EXCEPT THE CHEATING! I AM SINGLE BTW, DW. NO CHEATING IN THIS HOUSEHOLD YALL!) (Linked a playlist at the top :3)

Exes should remain just as is; Exes.

Exes shouldn't be friends for that would create conflict.

Nor should exes go out together for a movie.

Yet you stood there facing the nearly crowded ticket booth, looking around for a familiar mop of dirty blond hair— the very same one you used to run your fingers across, enjoying how fluffed it gets.

It had almost been a year since the two of you split, vaguely remembering how the break up went down, all you could remember was going on a fit of jealousy, along with stress from school exams crashing down, and needed to run away from the emotional baggage which you considered relationship to be.

Leon had been trying to reach out since forever, and by forever meaning— a month after you completely cut contact with him and began dating other guys. All of which ended horribly anyway; ended by you, yet again. Always. You simply couldn't stay in a relationship for too long, that, you acknowledged.

Leaving whenever the connection felt shifty and their mistakes often made you fall dissatisfied and bored, and while you could technically make it work— why bother? They'll continuously disappoint you anyway.

Your current boyfriend is proving it so, with his not-so-boyfriend-like activities of constantly putting you in situations you don't feel comfortable of; despite your protests, with how he keeps linking up with girls you've already voiced your displeasure for— and his overall lack of social etiquette, embarrassing you wherever the two of you might go. Not that you care for it, it's not like you saw a future with him anyway.

You clicked your phone open as it dinged, notifying you of a message from none other than the guy you've long labeled the number as: [do not pick up.]

It was a surprise to you how calm you were about the whole ordeal; you didn't feel anxious about meeting up with him again. Sure, maybe a slight nervousness and making sure your outfit matched pleasingly, opting for a pink low-cut tank top with a matching sheer, flimsy cover-up. A pathetic one where it couldn't even cover the temple of your breasts. No, you totally did not care.

After accidentally accepting his follow request, he wasted no time and practically expressed how much he missed you. Voicing how hard it has been on him without you in his life, humourously coping along. As the messages between you and your boyfriend gradually shortened, exchanges between yours and Leon's went longer. Chemistry seemingly never faded between the two of you.

Of course, there was no flirting involved, in fact you two comfortably began cussing each other out in chats, not to the extreme— but almost just for playful banter. You both would share opinions and talked about your seperate experiences from watching Barbie, and how he cried in the movies after so. Reminding you to bring tissues when you went to watch Barbie, unaware how your boyfriend had already given you his handkerchief to wipe your tears away as he eyed you intently, amused that you cried for a film. He just doesn't get Barbie like Leon did— and that very night after the movie, Leon invited you to watch Oppenheimer together. Well, re-watched, as he already went to see it the day before.

All you could remember was giggling in guilt before agreeing to his plans; callously telling your boyfriend, [Goodnight, love you.] though text.

Bringing you here at this very moment, scanning the cinema for his figure, glancing left and right for your ex-boyfriend. It would've been easier if he wasn't already lining up for the queue but, well— what can the both of you do? Everyone's just as excited to watch both films.

Noticing his back from far away, you almost walked up, only to back away and hide into a corner— unsure if it really could be him; and so,

After you sent the message, you stared at the figure you had suspected to be him, waiting... and waiting till he checks his phone. And just as soon as he sees the message, Leon immediately turned around, sheepishly holding up an arm despite the numerous eyes confused at his random gesture. Searching for your eyes amidst all.

It was all you needed to see before confirming your guess, jogging up to stand beside him in the queue, smiling. “Long line, huh?”

Your eyes travelled along his familiar face, the boyish smile etched in the corner of his lips as he kept his gaze forward— eyeing you through his peripherals; his glasses making it harder for him however. You note this, or course;

He wears glasses now? Looks cute. Suits him.

“Yeah, they're taking too long—” He nods, shyly answering you, catching a whiff of your perfume, pink dusting his cheeks.

You catch this, nodding inwardly before you turned your head to the side, “How long has it been?” asking again, curious. “I've been standing here for about twenty-five.” His voice struggled to stifle a nervous laugh, fidgeting with the strap of his gym bag that sat right inbetween pecs.

Leon had informed you how he just came from the gym while he waited for you to finish getting ready, claiming that it was nearby the mall anyway. And to somehow prove this point across, he only changed his jeans but kept wearing the black compression shirt, tightly hugging his biceps— a soft smirk playing along your lips as you basked in his body, practically undressing his torso while he tried to focus on the movie trailers randomly playing along the TV screens of the ticket booth— memorizing half of the lines at this point, trying to ignore your burning gaze.

To which he drastically failed, handing you money while jibberishly making up an excuse to go to the bathroom, rushing away from you. With your eyes trailing behind him, a chortle escapes your lips as you notice how his cheeks reddened, being pushed up by his huge grin.

“...Fuck, he looks good.” You thought, trying to brush it off— not wanting to be having such thoughts about your ex, especially when you're (hardly) dating someone else already. Your fingers fiddle with the money, folding it in half in between your knuckles, glancing around the booth while patiently waiting for Leon to come back into your peripherals, curious why he had suddenly decided to use the restroom when he could've done it before you even arrived. Still, when nature calls. You simply have to answer.

A soft chuckle falls out of your mouth when he finally shows, a jump on his foot when he returns to your side, yet clearly displeased at how the line barely moved an inch. “Should we buy the late night tickets? I don't think we'd make it for the afternoon showing.” You chirp, eyeing the elongated monitor Infront of the queue, to which he flicked his watch— humming in response; “If you're fine with that... Sure. I don't think you should miss out on the intro.”

A part of you wishes he was watching it for the first time too, needing to see his raw reactions like you both used to; but another side of you was flattered by his decision to pay just to watch it again, with you, this time around. He was practically ready to throw money once again, all for you. And by all means! You weren't one to complain after all.

———

The two of you began giggling, and chuckling as you both placed bets on what movie whomever would be watching based on their outfits— people in pink for Barbie, leather jacket people for Mission Impossible, and well— random shirts for Oppenheimer. With him jokingly calling you weird for wearing pink on Oppenheimer and brown for Barbie. “Why even!?" His gummy smile beams, with you returning yours with a laugh. “Can't help it! ‘Love confusing people!"

“Well, that's true, you gotta keep them guessing your next move.”

You two were dorks together, even back then, just that now, it lacked any sort of physical contact— despite constantly brushing knuckles while you two walked side by side, fingers flicking up as if to try and entangle into the other's.

He kept the tickets in his bag, placing your umbrella in it, as to not have you lugging it around, knowing how forgetful you could be. You exchanged music, talked about concerts you failed to get into because the two of you were busy for the exams (quite literally around the time you two broke up), complimenting yet making fun of each other's chosen courses along the way.

He absolutely adored having you fill him in on ‘chisme’ he barely had anything to do with, reciprocating it with telling you drama over at his school. And being able to do it once again exhilarated the two of you; moreso him, but he wouldn't tell you of that.

“He has a girlfriend?!” “Why? Can't he?"

“No— it's not that! I'm just surprised— like— finally?!” You laughed, surprised.

Earning a chuckle from him; “I'm definitely telling you on Chris, you really doubted his charm, huh?”

You shook your head in disbelief, smacking his sides with the back of your palm as if to shove him away. “Oh hush!” Your groans of struggle didn't fall on deaf ears as he watched you battle with the lollipop wrapper, offering his help by taking it off your hands, “Here, let me.” he says, almost laughing. Taking jabs at each other as the candy proved to be unwilling.

“You can shoot a gun but not open a wrapper?” “You're one to talk!” laughter erupts from the two of you, back to back.

He watched as you softly sucked on the candy after successfully peeling the cover off, his breath hitching for a second prompting him to look elsewhere, mind lingering on the thoughts of your lips wrapped around and innocently sucking the sweetness of it, wondering how it'd be like to replace that spot in between your lips— Leon could swear he never felt envious of a lollipop until now. Mindlessly, you went closer to him, laughing as you both decided to go back up to the cinemas floor after buying snacks for the movie,

“We should take the elevator, I know your feet hurt by now.”

You suggested, for him to agree with a meek smile, “Whatever you want.”

The two of you stepped in, smiling at each other knowing how awkward you both felt around others during elevator rides, the unwritten rule of keeping silent inside made you both cackle inside. “It's just so weird!” You both agreed on that; eyeing each other and taking note of strangers' faces and scents— which usually ends badly for the both of you. Criticising a middle-aged man for wearing too much Axe like there was no tomorrow.

This time however, it was different, you could only stare at each other while stifling your laughter, both of you testing waters how far each of your inside jokes can go and what would be uncomfortable to speak of just yet— the two of you trying to be sensitive to each other's feelings and boundaries.

Your eyes travail his arms, up to his neck, staring at his eyes while you continuously sucked on the treat— failing to realize how suggestive you looked in his point of view. And all your ex-boyfriend could do was look up at the silver doors, praying a mantra on his mind to calm himself down. The comfortable silence between you two was enough for him to feel satisfied, he didn't wish to be greedy any longer. He had no right, after all.

He wishes he had.

As you reached the second floor, more people came in, forcing the two of you back in the east corner of the elevator cab, with your back pressed on the wall and him facing your side, making sure his duffle-bag didn't obstruct your movement and wearing it the opposite-side of you. There was barely anymore space for you to check your phone so you left it at your back pocket, ignoring the message notifications you received. Still, your mouth kept wrapping around the candy, with him trying to distract himself away from the noises your lips made— each pop, each suck, he could hear them all, giving him a pornographic thought to rush. He honestly wishes you'd stop it and bite the entire candy to quit tormenting his ears; but didn't want to make it obvious how much you provoked indecent thoughts to swarm his mind. It didn't help that his anxiousness made him think that the other people inside the cab could hear his thoughts. Read his mind. See how much he wanted to pull that stupid fucking lollipop out of your mouth and replace it with his throbbing cock instead, mouth-fuck you while everyone inside the elevator watched. A groan escaping his mouth as you fiddled with the hem that hugged his bicep, glancing back at you for a quick second as guilt washes over him; seeing how you simply were just curious about the fabric.

Leon hung his head back in shame and pleasure, enjoying your proximity to him while also feeling bad that even the most innocent of your touch and actions turns him into such a dog in heat. Warmth tightening around his boxers. You stared back at him, shooting him a snarky look, as if to ask; “'Fuck you looking at?” even though you were the one touching him without permission to. As if you knew you could do whatever you wanted and he'd be all the more welcoming of how much of a bitch you could get. He grinned, shaking his head “nothing.” before slumping his head into the cold walls of the ride— chanting "fuck." in the back of his mind. The doors then opened, making him smile in hopes that people would get off to create more space, but to his displeasure, a whole group of elderly came in, the smile in his face dropping ever-so-quickly; much more when he was forced to face you, pressing into your body as the seniors pushed inside. Forcing everyone else younger than them to adjust for their comfort. Which included you and him.

Your hands are raised in front of you, pathetically creating a barrier between your chest and Leon's albeit his pecs were more on your face than it is yours. “Fuck.” you heard him groan, as you bit your lip, awkwardly chuckling. “You okay?" You asked in concern, a nod following suit in response. Their movements only affected the two of you even more, annoyed yet at the very same time, flustered at how much your bodies were being squashed against one another. Without much choice, you both fell silent, waiting for time to pass by. His staggered breathing didn't go unnoticed by you, however, making you stare up at him with your eyes slanted, “Leon? Are you sure you're okay—?”

Your line of questioning got cut off as he pressed his lips against yours, mumbling a “...shut-up.” while he positioned himself to block your body from view. His leg entraps you between his thighs, slightly bending downwards to reach your lips.

“Lee— stop, what are you doing...?” you mumbled back, brows furrowed. What was he really doing?

Is he out of his mind?! Why would he kiss his ex-girlfriend in such a cramped place where people can easily see if they just look back!

You were met with silence as your breast engulfed his arm the moment another elderly decided to move around, pushing Leon's gym bag on his side, and forcing him to push back into you, his hands gripping just above your wrist as he tried to find some sliver of composure— unsure if he really should, and if he could continue. Looking at you apologetically for getting carried away.

Yet all this did was turn you on. The forced proximity between you two, the excitement of getting caught making out with your ex-boyfriend in such a high alert place, being with said ex without your boyfriend knowing, and, well— being cornered by such a tall and muscular man that you've long fantasized touching drove all of your senses out of the window.

The way he simply looked like he committed a grave sin against you made it all the more enjoyable.

Silently, you snaked your arms around the back of his nape, inching your head to bury it in the crook of his neck. His eyes followed your movements and shared an agreement, as if you both just understood what the other wanted to do. God knows how long you've waited to do this, ever since then, and more so now. You were more than happy to continue this, and to prove that you trailed kisses along his neck, just below his ear, earning a gentle groan from his lips, raising a brow as if to ask you if this was okay.

“ 's more than okay, Leon.” you whispered, planting a soft kiss at his jaw, smiling at the random stubble tickling your soft skin. Wondering what Leon would look like with a more prominent stubble, when he's older maybe. Your eyes darts to the front, checking the coast before hiding back into his chest, waiting for his next move; “Can you stay quiet f'me?” He mumbled against your skin, pleading. Your hips instinctively bucked towards his as you register his words, as if your body knew what he meant and wanted. Eager to indulge his desire.

In an instant, he found his arm in-between your thighs which you ever-so-sweetly parted as much as you could for his easier access, hand gripping the fat of your inner thigh. While it infuriated him that others could get to see those soft and sexy thighs of yours in that skirt, he had never been happier in your choice of clothing than now. Thanking the fashion heavens for convincing you ahead of time that wearing a skirt while going to the cinemas with your ex-boyfriend who clearly has yet to get over you; a good idea.

“God, s' fuckin' wet for me already babe?” He mumbled inaudibly against your skin, eyeing your cleavage down while he rubbed the pad of his middle finger along the hem of your slick damped lacy panties, chuckling to himself but just enough for you to hear his comment, “Starting to think you planned for this to happen, slut.”

You jolt at the sudden term, baffled at his choice of words, moreso because you've never heard him address you like so— hell, you've never done anything remotely intimate before. A small peck on the lips was all you two ever got during to the time you both dated.

“Fuck, why did we even break up...” He groaned, “Cuz you hung around Claire more than I would've liked?" You chuckled, “I told you, she's nothing but a friend... she's Chris' sister for godssakes...”

Maybe it was his pent up frustrations about your relationship, or how he saw this as the only chance to act on his fantasies about you. Blush dusting your cheeks as you bite down on your lip, holding off a moan as you promised.

“Can't believe I'm letting the guy who cheated on me with his so-called girl-bestfriend touch me like this.”

His fingers hastily snaked inside your underwear, fighting off the urge to grunt loudly as he felt the warm wetness that pooled within you, not wanting to alert anybody; not wanting this to end so quickly. “I didn't! I could never cheat on you, please... I would never, fuck.”

“Leon—” You whispered against his ear, stopping his ramblings with your voice honeyed as ever, making him addicted to even the slightest of your sighs. “Hurry.” He almost came at how needy you sounded, shaking his head hoping to compose himself, smirking at your command. Wasting no time, he curled a finger inside of you, slowly, wanting you to enjoy and feel up each joint, trying to help you fantasize about it to be his dick— all stuffed in you, exploring your insides.

You roll your eyes as you've finally felt the satisfaction of feeling him being inside you, albeit inferior by a point to what you normally would've imagined; exactly wishing the same thing as he was. His finger slowly dipped in and out in quick intervals, as if trying to loosen you up, his thumb resting above your clit, moving it in circular motions. At this point he wasn't even paying attention to the discomfort of his throbbing member still encaged within his jeans, too focused on making you feel good, wanting you to cum on his fingers alone, wanting nothing more than to please you. In a way, hopefully earn you back? Right, if he could make you feel good, you'd definitely want to keep him and take him back, right?

Your fingers slowly dug into his shirt, the friction of it all hurting Leon more, wishing he just took it off since the contact of your nail on his shirt pressing down on his skin was all too uncomfortable. “Mhm ‘h shit!” You groaned, a little bit of your saliva dripping to the corner of your lips, alarming Leon and a middle-aged lady on your right. Of course, being the quick-witted cutie you were— simply smiled at her direction; playing it off. “I think I cut myself, can you move your bag?" You asked Leon, faking a pout; which he quickly followed along, laughing inwardly. “Ah— yeah— shoot, sorry! I think I- yeah, sorry.” He used his free hand to move the bag, covering your thighs further, while he continued his ministrations. Finger-fucking you harshly now as he slid another digit, simultaneously pumping two fingers in you while his thumb toyed your clit, loving how swollen it had become.

As soon as everyone else looked away and focused on their business, you started leaning into Leon's chest, your breathing eventually became laboured— wanting Leon to feel a sense of understanding just how much he makes you feel right now; and as so, you began palming his crotch through the dark-washed denim jeans, rubbing him the same pace he was doing to you. “Princess, no.” He stops you, knowing he'll make a mess if you touch him more.

“I want to touch you, Lee.” You whined, kissing his sculpted yet soft chin, brows furrowed while you inch your knees up, needing him to get his fingers deeper in you which he did, following up your body— pressing himself against you. “Please, let me touch you,” more pleas for reciprocating his motions fell from your mouth, more eager to touch him than he was.

Fuck. Leon could only curse in his mind, you looked so adorable, sexy, and beautiful all at the same time with how you pleaded for his own pleasure, loving how you reciprocated his want for you, how much you wanted to return the favour, but as much as he wanted to— he couldn't let you, not if you both want to leave the lift without judgemental stares, that is. Leon shook his head ‘no’, chuckling, “It's okay baby, this is about you.” He was fully committed to giving you what he could at the very moment, and more if time allows him. “Let's focus on you.”

Your smile deforms into an "o" as he dragged his index finger, going from your clit down back to your entrance, pulling in just the tip of his finger before pulling out again, teasing you while he pretended like it was his cock diving into you. “Look at the mess you're making at the floor, babe.” He ushered, retracting his hand from you almost abruptly you could've sworn even the gods heard the squelch your pussy let out. “That'a dirty girl.”

Embarrassment boiled in your stomach, along with a knot forming, you were so close, too close and he stops mid-second, making you ache for continuance.

It didn't help how he was far better than your no-name boyfriend back at the small town you went to school for, sure, you crushed and pined on that boy too but, he disappointed you in bed so quickly, God forbid how redundant his movements were whenever he fingered you, unable to make you cum like you thought he would; what was the point of leaving your other ex-boyfriend for him if he was a no-better fuck? You don't even remember the last orgasm you've had, and it was only ever your fingers doing the job with some porno flick playing on your phone. An erotica here and there. You could've sworn you'd stay single instead and fuck yourself. But God did Leon surprise you. Your previous boyfriends (well, except for him) couldn't dare compare.

“Leon, stop it...!” You whisper-yelled, furrowing your brows, daring not to look down for you could already feel how much of your slick had dripped down, “For someone who cares so much about janitors, you're really out here making their jobs harder; huh?” He joked against your ear, not even hiding how proud he was with that cheeky boyish grin on his face, probing his fingers back inside you as he followed the rhythm with how he bucked his hips into yours. Loving how dumbfounded you had become under his touch. He wanted to flick his phone right there and then, to record you; ah maybe next time, if you allow it.

You leaned against the walls of the elevator, the cold surface kissing your blood-heated skin. He rocks his fingers faster, in awe of how fucked-out you already look, with how you lolled your lips like that, which he took advantage of and kissed, sucking on your strawberry cream tasting tongue. Your eyes rolling back as you fail to care if anybody has noticed anymore, whining against Leon's request.

And he doesn't seem fazed, pumping his fingers inside you with more fervour. Grinning from ear to ear at the development of your relationship. God, he wished he had done this sooner, maybe more often, maybe if you realized he can be good for you, you wouldn't have broken up with him— this time he'll prove just that. And you'll make sure of it too, right?

You tapped on his shoulder, eyeing him and shooting him a signal ‘I'm about to cum,’ your eyes shutting close as you ride out your high, griding against his hand, desperate for release; which he gladly obliged to, using his thumb to drum at your clit, pressing his palms closer to your crotch so you could grind on it further while he vibrated his fingers inside you, flicking it back and forth inside, reaching for that one specific area, the spongy spot he had discovered just earlier, “Gonna come for me, pretty?” He asks, eyes soft, “Cum for me, go on, cum. I wanna feel you all over my hands...” His whispers turned into a mantra, saying it over and over again like a string of Hail-Marys, urging you to release. And exactly that— you did. Biting your lip as you brought his free hand over your mouth, using him to muffle the moaning mess you've started to become. Each whine and huff.

He felt the warm liquid drip down into his fingers, his hand, as it makes its way to the floors, laughing in a twisted sort of humour, feeling awful for the person who'll clean it up but was also glad someone will gawk upon the mess he helped you make. Happy to have participated in ruining someone else's day.

Leon then took his hand away from your pussy, dragging it ever so slowly before wiping some of the slick in your lips, “C'mon taste yourself f'me?” He smiles, prompting you to open your mouth and do as told, it's only fair you do so, right? You slightly grimace at the thought that you'd accidentally meet eyes with someone while you sucked on his fingers, licking it off your juices, so you figured closing your eyes was your best bet at avoiding the awkwardness; rather than telling Leon, 'no.'

“Atta girl,” Once he felt like it was clean enough, he pressed his thumb over your throat, putting just enough pressure to force your mouth to open for air, itching a cough— which he then slid a kiss into, tasting your cum-ridden tongue with a satisfied grin, letting you go as he heard the elevator ding, helping you fix your panties and skirt as you both arrived at the destined floor to the cinemas. Waiting patiently for your turn to get out, he plants a softer kiss against your forehead. “We're gonna focus on the film, right?" He cheekily smiled, blushing a tad while you rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance with your hand smacking across his bicep, walking hand in hand towards the cinema room indicated on your tickets; “Ugh, shut up. Yes.”

You were so breaking up with your boyfriend after this.

#ex!Leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #smut #resident evil smut #leon x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #re4 leon #leon kennedy smut #ex to lovers #elevatorgobrr

[persephoneflouwers]

favorite fics ??

Alright it took me more than a month to reply, but honestly this year has been shit for two months now so I kinda stepped back from reading fics because I couldn’t find much comfort in them. I’m not avoiding anymore. I will give you a few new titles of fics I enjoyed reading in this dark time though! You can find previous fic recs here, here, here, here aaaaand here <3 let’s go.

Latest fics I’ve read!

You can hear it in the silence by Imogenlee ( @imogenleefic ) 235K:

Probably the best fic I’ve read in a while. Harry is a post grad biochem student, Louis in his new housemate. This can be hashtagged as enemies to lovers and as #Harry Styles calls Louis pet names lol there’s med stuff, there’s psychological stuff, there’s sexual awakenings and hard coming outs discoveries, internalised homophobia, bad parenting AND Harry wears glasses pretty much all the time. 10/10 recommended (you’ll have a kiss if you get my only nerdy complain lol)

Everything to lose by stylinsoncity (46K).

New entry in my bookmarks. This author delivers ALWAYS. This is an ABO with unconventional dynamics, since Harry is an O who does really act like an O lol. Work comes in between them, there is resentment and jealousy. It feels real and makes you question if love is ever enough. Ex (married not really divorced) to lovers.

Turn the world to gold by frenchkiss (143K):

The Helen of Troy AU that comes when the greatest battles of all the time comes from the greatest love story of all the time. This was such a good story! Louis is a demigod, zeus’ son and married to Harry, general of Sparta’s army. There’s a second Ziam story line (not much side, it’s pretty huge in the story).

Turning page by purpledaisy (68K):

New addition to my bookmarks from one of my favourite authors. Harry Styles tries to get lost in a place he’s never been. Louis Tomlinson has been perfecting the art of being lost for years. What they don’t expect to find is each other. Obviously an enemies to lovers. Obviously features football player Louis.

#fic rec #larry fic rec #angie reader’s corner #where are my fanfic writers at #please give me fics title of some fics i could enjoy #im begging at this point #ex to lovers #enemies to lovers #with angst (NO DRAMA) pure angst #you know the drill by now thank you #larry fanfiction #larry fanfic rec #my ao3 bookmarks

[awkwardchaosposts]

Shit, it's you again

Part ?

Chishiya x Ex!reader [male!reader]

TW!: Nsfw themes,swearing

/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\

You were nervous. Ofcourse you were. It's your first time going on in a date in years.

Maybe watching an episode of Dateline before going out wasn't the best idea.

Dammit you should've cleared your browser history. It's all too late now,than again-

"Hey" a familiar voice brought you out of your own head.

You nearly had a heart attack when you saw him. He was blonde now and he's grown out his hair,but you'd recognise that face. After all that is the face of the person that ripped out your heart and stomped on it.

"Chishiya?"

"Yeah?" maybe he should've been more compassionate but that never was his strong suit.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

He tilted his head,almost watching you out of amusement. He wants to say sorry but his pride won't let him. So instead his defense consisting of mockery and sarcasm was up. "I'm on a date"

"Oh yeah? well I'm on a date too so scram,Luscious Malfoy!"

"I know you're on a date. That's why I'm here"

This confused you. That's why he's here? the fuck did he mean?

"Are you stalking me?"

He tried his best to hold back his laugh and at least appear serious right now. "No. Here maybe this might help"

He held up his phone, showcasing the messages you've been exchanging. Turns out your mystery guy wasn't so mysterious after all but instead it was... Chishiya. Your ex.

Was this some kind of sick joke?

"Are you trying to humiliate me or something?"

He was a bit confused by your assumption but shook his head. "No. I'm not. I actually-"

"I don't want to hear it"

This only further confused him. If you didn't want to hear it then why did you ask him in the first place?

You stood up abruptly. "You know what? you're just as selfish as you've always been"

"And you're just as childish"

"Oh fuck off!" you grabbed your bag,accidentally knocking over the coffee you've ordered in the process.

"Shit" You try to help clean up but pause when you see Chishiya stifling a laugh.

"Oh you think this is funny?"

"Yes"

You've forgotten how brutally honest he can be sometimes.

"Yeah well...You suck in bed!" Is the only insult you could think about.

Chishiya watched you storm out with a confused expression. For someone who thought he sucked in bed you sure did 'agree' with him a lot all those years ago.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were beyond furious so why? Why on earth did you text him that night?

Honestly you don't know.

<Hey>

Chishiya was busy at home doing research in a particular abnormal case that one of his patients had.

He picked up his phone upon hearing that 'ding!'

You sent him a message? Well how about that.

<Hi>

<Wanna come over?>

His lips twitched up into something that resembles a smile when he read your text

<I don't know. I'm kind of busy being bad in bed right now>

You sighed at his teasing,quick to respond. <Shut up and just come over>

<Why should I?>

<Please?>

He grinned upon reading your text before answering rather quickly. <I'm already on my way>

/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\/⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\

#alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #chishiya x male reader #chishiya x y/n #chishiya x reader #chishiya x oc #chishiya shuntaro #exes to lovers #second chance at love #ex to lovers #alice in boderland x reader

[stars-of-kyber]

I just realised I let the one year anniversary of my first Bridgerton story pass! How could I?!

On 14th September 2022, after I spent a good while listening to Taylor Swift’s song on replay, it was born!

The Way I Loved You

This story was the one which gave me the strength to finish things and post them and it means the world to me. It might not be my best work but it’s one I’m proud of and marked me a lot.

Happy one year my first baby, I’m so proud of you and I love you so much, even if I don’t revisit you often enough.

#my writing #my fic #the way I loved you #modern AU #inspired by Taylor Swift #my first baby #so proud of u #Ex to Lovers

[f9urth]

North X Night

#nattawititi #northnight #edit #ao3 #fanfic #ex to lovers

[spenceswife]

Cant be without you

Eddie Munson x Yn Sinclair

Word count: 1k

Description: Yn and Eddie have been miserable since their breakup so Eddie being Eddie gets her back in a dramatic way

Warnings: Cursing, Angst.

AN: I’m really tired its 1 in the morning so sorry if it’s trash love you guys <3

3 months. It’s been 3 months since my heart got broken. Eddie and I had got in a huge argument about me expressing my feelings. And of course I know what he was going through because I dont talk to him about how I feel so he’s closed out and thats my fault.

He’s to good for me he deserves someone who’s not ashamed/scared to talk about themselves so I ended it. “Eddie you deserve much more than me and since I cant give that to you we need to break up” the look on his face still haunts me to this night.

After a month and a half Robin had been making me go to parties with her so I could stop acting like a couch potato and thats when I met Jack. We were at Steves party when we first met eyes, we hit it off pretty well but he still wasn’t my Eddie.

School finally started back those 3 months went by to quickly because now I have to see Eddie everyday for the next year.

-

“Babe its not to bad being back in school at least you can see me all day” a high pitched voice came from the other side of the hall. I turned my head while holding Jacks hand as he talks to his basketball friends. “Honey please stop yelling in my ear” I immediately face the conversation knowing that familiar groan.

Eddie. Our eyes meet its like we never left each other his beautiful brown eyes had so much hurt in them as his new preppy girlfriend kisses his cheek. A tear quickly falls down my cheek as Jack pulls me away walking somewhere else.

But we didn’t break eye contact till i turned a corner not seeing the love of my life anymore. “Babe you good? Why are your eyes red?” He asks pushing me against a locker trying to kiss me. Not having much room to move I allow it even though I hate it so fucking much.

-

Finally half way through the day I made it to the lunch room holding Jacks hand as he waved to his friends while we sat at the table. To be honest I really wanted to sit with Robin but she’s trying to get with Vickie so I didn’t wanna third wheel.

But as I ate my lunch quietly not having anyone to talk to because he ignores me when his friends are around we hear a slap on a table. I quickly turn seeing Eddie yelling around the room “… OR WHO TOSS BALLS INTO LAUNDRY BASKETS” I smirk to myself knowing how much we hated the “popular kids” but now were dating them. How hypocritical of us.

“Want something Freak?” Jason stood from our table going towards him. Eddie did his signature Devil face then looked at me. He got off the table going back to his seat with a blank expression on. “Freak” Jack said making people laugh only with me shaking my head. For the rest of the period I felt his eyes staring at me.

-

2 weeks later

It was the first game of the basketball season and of course I had to be there because my boyfriend unfortunately is a player. But I also went to support Lucas knowing how important it was to him. I sat on the bleachers at the top so I could read or whatever but before I began I felt someone sit by me.

That cologne I knew exactly who it was and I stiffened “Yn…” Eddie said looking at me “Eddie. Surprised your here didn’t think this was your type of crowd” I stare at him oh god his eyes so fucking pretty

“Could say the same for you but I’m here to see my… girlfriend. Guessing your here for Jack?” As soon as that name came out his mouth Jack whistled at me and winked while on the court. Which made me roll my eyes and cross my arms.

I heard a deep chuckle come from my ex “It seems you dont like him that much” he questioned mirroring my stance. But a hint of jealousy was in his mouth. “Could sat the same about you Munson.” I sigh looking back at the court.

“Damn right” my eyes widen at the easy confession. “God I fucking hate this so much. I cant keep pretending I don’t think about you all day Yn ever since that night.” Turning towards him my face gets warm “Eddie I Feel the same.” A slight smile was on his face

“The fight was so stupid sweetheart I’m so sorry. I should’ve been patient with you when you said you couldn’t share feeling but I was so stupid.” Running his fingers through his thick locks i swallow a cry that wanted to come out.

“I’m sorry too Eddie I should’ve told you earlier I had problems with that instead of just letting you find out.” He smiled nodding. “Yn would you maybe wanna try for a second time?” He asked his eyes staring deeply into mine.

“I would but we literally have dates and their both on the court” I pointed to his cheer leader girlfriend and my basketball boyfriend. They were so not our types it grossed me out. “No problem love one second” he stood with a devious look on her face. Running down the bleachers he ran in the middle of the court making the whistle blow and everyone cursing him out.

“Kayla were officially done I cant handle your Madonna shit. And you Jack! Yn is done with your preppy ass.” Eddie flipped him off now looking back at me “YN BABY TAKE ME BACK MY LOVE” My mouth was open in shock at what he did. But I had to give the drama king what he wanted and yelled back “YES!” He bowed running back towards me, grasping my face as he put a harsh kiss on my lips. God did i miss that.

That’s a story for our kids.

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #stranger things #female reader #fluff #lucas sinclair #eddie the freak munson #Eddie x black reader #black reader #robin buckley #angst #oneshots #Ex to lovers #yn sinclar

[reivrze]

i just got the cutest idea for a jungwon fic 🤭

#ex to lovers #roommates to lovers #egamers ???

[toastywarmsweaters]

"homecoming" - by me, for eri

(10/18/2023)

i can't wait to see you dressed up when

we're going shopping on friday

the event is also later that night

and we will be dancing

on the concrete together

once more for old times' sake

in a moment we won't forget again

or leave behind once more

for us to find

another floating hope

that we wouldn't miss out

the chance to date

after so much time

we knew we needed

to spend

together

#love poem #love quotes #poem #poetry #love #ex to lovers #college #homecoming #school dance #college days #college romance #spilled poetry #spilled thoughts #spilled ink

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

chapter seven

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.

PREVIOUS NEXT

To marry without love must be terrible. To marry with love seems better, but everything depends on the conditions in which one gets married. If you're stressed because you're about to give birth to an unplanned daughter with a love that no longer serves you, and a fake marriage is your only solution, marrying seems like hell. Unfortunately, you're discovering this the hard way. At least you and your daughter are doing well health-wise. Namjoon and Jin keep checking in to make sure you're taking care of yourself, while Hoseok and the younger ones try to help with the marriage. The fans of the group that your daughter's father is a part of have surprisingly accepted well the fact that you're pregnant with Yoongi and that you're getting married. Everyone bought into the story of marrying out of love and the pregnancy being the result of a cute hidden formal relationship. The wedding with Yoongi was quick and without much fuss. Your belly is too big, time is short so a short wedding was perfect.

"I think this is the last box. Who knew I'd be moving into your house, pregnant with your baby and married to you. It doesn't feel real." You say organizing your last moving box while Yoongi organizes the baby's room.

"I finished setting up our daughter's room. I think it looks nice..." Yoongi comments as he watches you organize the rest of the clothes in the wardrobe.

"Can we talk for a bit?" You ask, sitting down on the corner of Yoongi's bed, which will soon be your bed together.

"We've barely been married, and we're already going to have a serious conversation?" Yoongi tries to be funny, but you look at him somewhat indifferent.

"I think some things need to be talked about. We're almost at a stage where another human being will depend exclusively on us. I think it's important that you know you'll have to be involved in Ji-soo's life. And I know it's premature, but I think Min Ji-soo, a beautiful name, and since I'm carrying her, then..." You speak defensively but without getting worked up.

"You notice that in this relationship, we should be a team and not rivals, right?" Yoongi speaks, taking a strand of his hair that was touching his eyes, while you look at him. You don't know if you're mad at him or if you agree with him.

"This whole situation is crazy. I dated you because I loved you and now we're married and I feel like I'm at the point where I'm stopping loving you. We need to fix this before the baby arrives." You say getting physically closer to Yoongi, your hand held his.

"What is your suggestion?" Yoongi asks holding her hand. A silly smile appeared on his face and you felt shy for a moment.

"May we try to be peaceful with each other. Maybe we can be bold too." You say, raising your hand to Yoongi's neck, pulling him into a kiss. A kiss that reminded you of what it was like to love him, making you feel intoxicated by the sensation of kissing Yoongi. 

However, a sudden pain makes you pull away from Yoongi, letting out a groan of pain. It almost felt like your baby was kicking your belly, but usually, that didn't cause such intense pain. When you look down, you see blood on your pants, staining the floor of the room. Yoongi looks at you terrified, and you feel a sense of panic engulfing you.

"Yoongi, I'm not feeling well. I think there's something wrong with our girl." You say, feeling another pang of pain in your belly and slowly becoming dizzy. The pain was so intense that you almost blacked out when trying to stand up.

"Jagiya, listen to me. Let's go to the hospital, but I need you, for the sake of our daughter and yourself, to try to stay conscious." Yoongi says, grabbing the bag they had prepared for the baby and the car keys. 

"If something happens, take care of our daughter for me. I know you'll be a good father." You say, feeling like you'll lose consciousness soon. The little strength you have, you use to gently touch your belly, as if saying goodbye to your little girl.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You and I are going to be great parents, together. I promise you that everything will be fine." You hear Yoongi say, so you look at him and touch his face. A last caress before the uncertain end. And then everything fades away, and you see nothing more.

To be continued...

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi #jungkook #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #taehyung #jung hoseok #park jimin #bts series #bts angst #yoongi angst #min yoongi angst #ex to lovers #future parents au #Spotify

[majunju]

the abyss princess and skirk

#genshin impact #my art #and they were ex-lovers

[camishroom]

hmmmmmmmm gortash and durge??? I love them

#dnd #bg3 #bg3 tav #enver gortash #bg3 gortash #gortash x durge #durge #durgetash #baldur's gate 3 #they are lovers they are bitter exes they are partners in crime #did not care one bit about gortash before playing durge #digitalart #dndart

[freedomfireflies]

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door. 

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up. 

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow. 

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?” 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

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[sunclown]

Best thing of part 4 💎💲

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