#so anyway I just emailed him now and said sorry to send this on the weekend/this late i wanted to do it while i was thinking ab it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwaslayer · 20 days ago

Text

wildfire (cs) | four.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 5.4k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, oc is getting whiplash from prof. choi's lab culture lmao, very vague/general descriptions of mice research work, prof. choi to the rescue fr, lots and LOTS of tension, yes i promise the ending counts as foreshadowing because shit will hit the roof in 5!!

A couple of days later, you and Sunwoo are finally putting the newly built behavior rig to use. A couple of days later, you find yourself becoming way too distracted by Professor Choi.

A couple of days later, Sunwoo is asking you to text your professor about some mice issues?

"Can you do me a favor?" Sunwoo pouts. "Pretty please?"

"What?" You tease and cross your arms.

"Can you take a picture and text it to Professor Choi? Ask him if it's okay to move forward with the vet's recommendations for the mice?"

"Text him?" Sunwoo looks at you and nods, flashing you Professor Choi's number on his own phone screen.

"We usually text him if it's something really urgent and needs his attention."

"You guys don't just do this in a Slack chat or something?"

"Trust me, he's probably the worst with Slack. I don't even think the guy has it downloaded on his phone so it's easily accessible." Sunwoo chuckles. "Y/N, I promise. It's fine. I'm not setting you up for trouble." You let out a small sigh and pull out your phone to take pictures. You're not really sure why you're hesitant, it definitely was a thing in Professor Bahng's lab, too. You're probably just used to the older cohorts of professors that required everything to be sent through email, Slack maybe. The new wave? Definitely a bunch of texters.

you: hi professor choi, this is y/n! i'm with sunwoo and he asked me to send this picture to you of one of our mice. the vet said he's really sick and we should go with a different treatment plan for it. it'll cost a little more if we do, but it should help get the mouse back on track. can we move forward?

San is paused mid-workout when he gets your text, sweat dripping down from his forehead when he zooms into the picture, analyzes a bit and lets out a sigh.

prof. choi: yes please!

you: got it!

prof. choi: could i trouble you and sunwoo to make sure there aren't any other sick mice?

you: of course! sorry about that. ☹️

prof. choi: all good, it happens! no need to apologize for anything. thank you. ☺️

prof. choi: also, can you have him charge it to our outreach account? he'll know and could probably pass along the finance info to you.

you: of course!

prof. choi: 😬

"He said it's fine and to charge it to the outreach account." Sunwoo raises his brow.

"He answered you already? I thought we'd have to make rounds in this room before he responded."

"Yeah?"

"Jeez, what's the trick? I feel like I have to bombard him sometimes."

"I literally just got here, I have no trick." You laugh.

"Sure." Sunwoo laughs and shrugs it off. "Anyway, sounds good! Thanks. Let's go take care of these mice and make sure the rest are fine."

"He said that, too."

"Figured! Always gotta be one step ahead of him. That's the only way to survive here." You laugh and follow Sunwoo deeper into the mice room, looking through the rest of the mice to make sure none of them are as sick. You help him wean a couple and split them into different cages, the last half of the walkthrough consisting of making sure everything else looks good. When you get back to the basement, you spend a bit of time helping Belle before starting on the first half of your behavior experiment with Sunwoo. It's a lot of work spent in a dark room, surrounded by bright computer lights— time moves quick, but your energy drains quicker.

When you finally catch a break after the past few hours of working alongside of Sunwoo, you wander down the halls to head to the bathroom and get a snack. You freshen up after relieving yourself, feeling a bit icky after being in a stuffy room, the stuffy basement, all afternoon. You prance over to the vending machine down the hall, grabbing some peanut m&ms to munch to satisfy your sweet tooth. Just as you turn the hall to walk back towards the office, Professor Choi walks out of one of the rooms, damn near colliding with you once again.

"Woah, hey. Sorry." He says, his arm out in case of any minor collisions.

"You're good, Professor Choi." He smiles, eyes shifting down to the bag of m&ms in your hand.

"Sweet tooth?"

"Need some sugar. Been cooped up with the rooms with Sunwoo."

"You're gonna take a break, right?"

"I will." You give him a toothless smile. "Sorry about texting you earlier. Sunwoo said it was fine, but I don't know. I still feel bad somehow." Professor Choi laughs before shaking his head.

"It really is fine, I promise you Y/N. Especially in that case. You can text or call me for emergency purposes." You pause, unsure how to respond. "I mean it."

"Okay, okay." You chuckle. "I will." He smiles at you before clutching his laptop close to his hip and checking his watch.

"Good. I'll see you later, gotta run off to prepare for this symposium with Professor Bahng."

"Symposium?"

"Mhm. He's leading one next month."

"Are you doing a talk?" He nods.

"Yeah unless he boots me out of the agenda for whatever reason." You giggle and shake your head. "You'll be there whenever it happens, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Can't miss that."

"Good answer." He smirks. "And Y/N?"

"Mhm?"

"Hope that's not gonna be dinner for you. Don't skip meals on me, please." You silently nod, waving him off before turning on your heel to head back to your desk.

That same evening, you have never been so grateful for having listened to a professor. It was such a tiny detail when Professor Choi told you to save his number for emergency purposes, and here you are experiencing said emergency purpose.

You were wrapping up your behavior experiment in one of the lab rooms, excited to finally leave the small room and the darkness behind. You had set your mice down on the cart, taking a few notes on an index card to jot into your lab notebook later on— which, you probably shouldn't have left your notebook in the office area in the first place. You needed to reference something mid-note-taking about the mouse's behavior, but you couldn't. When you decided to run out and grab your notes, the door handle flew off and locked you inside.

Fuck.

You tried your best not to panic, but the room felt like it was closing in on you with how small the space was. How dark the room was, felt like it was getting darker by the minute despite the computers giving off light in the far corners. Trapped between these behavior rigs and the gazillion computers, microscopes and lasers. There was no way to re-attach the handle, or so you couldn't see any possible way, and there was nothing that could help you unlock the door from the inside. The worse part of it all is that none of your texts or calls to Sunwoo are going through due to the sucky ass service in the basement, and you know he's busy doing some neuron culturing off in the wetlab room nearby.

He's definitely not checking his phone, and he's probably not going to check on you anytime soon.

Your mind immediately goes to Professor Choi next. It could be a long shot, but you decide to pace the room, hoping the call could go through at some point. This could be considered an emergency purpose, right? He wouldn't think you're silly for contacting him because of a door handle, no?

You definitely should save the facilities and security numbers, too.

"Hello?"

"Oh. Hi!" You're wide-eyed when the call actually goes through in this one spot of the room, Professor Choi's sultry, deep voice picking up on the other end.

"Hey Y/N. Everything alright?"

"Um, no? I'm kinda embarrassed to say this but I'm stuck in the W072 behavior room. The door knob inside flew off so I can't even open the door." He smiles to himself before letting out a small breath.

"Sorry, yeah. That door's been having major issues. I'll have to ask facilities what's going on with that. I'll be over in about 5 minutes."

"I'm so sorry. I really am embarrassed, I hope I'm not pulling you from—"

"You don't need to worry." He chuckles. "You're not pulling me away from anything. I could use the break anyway. Be there for you soon. Hang tight for me, hm?" You bite onto your bottom lip and nod as if he can see you.

"Mmkay. Thank you."

"You're welcome." And with that, the call ends. You're awkwardly sitting on the computer chair in the dark room, nothing but the sounds of computers whirring in the background; sounds of the mice scrambling around their cages, a little desk lamp and the computers the only source of light. You barely have service down here, and you're eternally grateful the call actually went through to Professor Choi's phone.

You'd be stuck here until Sunwoo decides to randomly pop in, if he randomly pops in. Until who fucking knows when, really.

Professor Choi arrives within that 5 minute mark, and he startles you by the way he swings the door open. He's wearing a Stussy shirt and jeans, sporting that same, dimpled smile of his that you're finding is becoming a weakness for you.

"Hey you." He says. "You okay?"

"Yeah, thank you." You stand, the broken door handle in hand. "Uh, I have this?" He laughs before wedging the small trash can in between the door frame and the door itself.

"Let me see." He says, gently taking the door handle from your hand. You watch from behind as he crouches down to see if he can temporarily re-attach the damn thing. I mean truthfully, he is also trying to look useful and attractive in front of you somehow. Even though he doesn't know what the fuck is going on. "Uh." He hums, making you giggle.

"Maybe you should leave it for facilities." He turns to you with a playful glare.

"Saying I can't fix it?"

"I mean, doesn't look like it." He playfully tuts and stands, setting the door handle aside. "We might both get stranded here."

"That wouldn't be too bad, now would it?" He looks at you with such a shit-eating smirk, it causes you to shy away and release eye contact before you break. "But, you're right. There are things I'm better off with and that's not fixing door handles." He pouts and you shake your head.

"We can't always be great at everything, Professor Choi." You tease.

"Yeah." He lets out a small laugh. "Were you finished in here?"

"Uh, yeah. I just need to put the mice away." You lazily point at the cart behind you with a few cages sitting on top.

"Let me help."

"Oh no, I promise, I'm okay."

"I wanna." He slips on some gloves and starts dragging the cart towards the opposite end of the behavior room where the mice are housed. They sit behind blackout curtains and on ventilated shelves, some sitting a bit higher up that require a small step-stool to reach. You start setting the cages into their open spots in the middle row, but the last three need to be placed on the very stop shelf. "Where do these guys go?"

"Up there." You point and he smiles, grabbing two of the cages for you.

"Got you. Careful, your head. I'm gonna reach over." He says from right behind you, his long arms reaching above to slip them into the open slots. You freeze, eyes watching him grab the last cage and slip it onto the shelf. "Good?" You turn to face him. He's still standing in the same position, not giving you much room to work with in this tiny corner.

"Mhm." You look up at him and god, does he like looking at you from this angle. "Thank you, Professor Choi."

"You're welcome." He matches your soft tone. With how close you are, you can smell his cologne lingering in the air.

"You're always coming to my rescue."

"I don't mind. I'd do it again if I needed to." He ticks his head to the side. "Gotta give Sunwoo a little talk about not taking care of you properly."

"He's doing a very good job, I promise." You don't know what the hell comes over you, but you tap him against the chest lightly— and you almost lose it. First, out of embarrassment, but second, because of how firm his chest felt. You knew he worked out, but damn; you were wondering how well built and toned he actually was. He doesn't do anything, though. He's still looking at you with a small smile etched on his lips. You can tell he's having a slight internal debate on whether or not he should also tease and play around.

He knows he can't. Doesn't mean he won't.

"Oh yeah?" He starts as he steps a little closer to test the waters. His eyes are flicking across your features as if he's trying to study you and study you well. It's a bit obvious he's itching to do something— brush your hair back, put a hand on your waist. Something, anything—

"Yo, you all good in there?" You hear Sunwoo's voice at the door, causing you to abruptly step aside and wipe your sweaty palms down your pants. "Oh shit, woah! Professor Choi out in the wild! What's going on?" Sunwoo fully steps into the behavior room and places his hands on his hips, San giving off a hearty laugh at his comment.

"The door handle flew off." Is all you say while pointing at it sitting on the edge of the table. "I tried calling and texting you but none of them went through. Professor Choi had to come save me." Sunwoo nods nonchalantly. Luckily, it doesn't seem like he thinks anything is strange or odd. Definitely didn't catch you two being only inches away from each other, damn near pressed up against one another. You're curious as to what Professor Choi would've done next, and now, you may never know.

Welp.

"The hell did you do?" Sunwoo laughs. "Just started and already breaking things?" He teases.

"You know that door's been an issue since forever." San chimes in.

"I know, I'm just teasing." You roll your eyes. "Anyway, are you all good in here?"

"Mhm. I uploaded everything onto the server."

"Sweet. I'll take a look in a bit." You watch Sunwoo as he starts to leave the room, grabbing your notebook and laptop from the other table before following suit.

"Thank you again, Professor Choi." You give him a cute smile that he finds himself admiring, being last to leave the room.

"Of course, Y/N. I'll come save you any time you need me to." You let out a small laugh before shaking your head and catching up to Sunwoo. He bites onto his bottom lip as he sheds off his gloves and tucks his hands into his pockets, letting the both of you be as he heads back into his office. Once he's inside, he lets out a hefty sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose because fuck.

He needs to control himself better.

"Fuck." He finally says outloud, slightly stressed over you and those pretty eyes.

Pretty lips.

Pretty smile.

He plops back down onto his office chair, shaking off the thoughts before proceeding to check his inbox and review his final draft of the progress report. He needed to find any distraction right now; his thoughts, judgment even, slowly being clouded by you.

—FLASHBACK

"I think I'm getting this all wrong." You rest your head on the library table, reviewing your journal club presentation lazily.

"Why do you think that, Y/N? The way you interpret the paper is gonna make sense to the lab. Journal club is meant for you guys to build off of it and have a discussion." Jiung continues to work on his homework across from you.

"I know, I'm just nervous for some reason."

"Then just send your email to Professor Choi to see if he'll go over it with you. Give you peace of mind." You sigh.

"Yeah. He's probably gonna be so done with me after the past few days." Jiung snorts.

"Imagine if he hadn't saved you." His laugh grows. "How the fuck would you have gotten out?"

"I'd like to believe that Sunwoo would have at least checked on me." He nods.

"Yeah, maybe. Glad you're okay, though. What did Professor Choi say?" You shrug, completely [and obviously] leaving out the details about the close moments you've had with him.

"Nothing. He just came to get me and that was it." Jiung nods silently, giving you the opportunity to type away on Outlook to send Professor Choi an email.

From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Hi Prof. Choi, Do you have some time to go over the paper I chose for journal club on Monday? I just want to make sure I'm getting the format and processes right. Here's my presentation attached. Best, Y/N

You minimize the window and continue to work on other things, hoping you can meet with Professor Choi and talk about it soon—

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Sure! We can go over it tomorrow if you'd like? 11am good? - San

"He responded." Jiung hums as a response.

"Nice. What did he say?"

"We can meet tomorrow to go over it."

"See, that's good! I'm sure it'll be fine, but at least you can get Professor Choi's input for your first journal club." You nod.

"Yeah. Hopefully it is fine."

—END

You take your knuckles to the surface of Professor Choi's door, giving it a good two, three soft knocks before you hear a faint 'come in' from the other side. You swing the door open, finding Professor Choi diligently typing away as he sits at his desk. His brows are tightly knit together, and he's wearing a simple white button-up; but today, he's got black glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey Y/N." He says. "Sorry, give me a sec. I just need to respond to this email really quickly."

"No worries." You sit on the couch. "Take your time." His lips curve into a small smile just as he types away, then clicks to send it off.

"Alright. Hi." He smiles his usual, dimpled smile, black strands framing his forehead. "How's it going?"

"Good. How about you?"

"I'm alright, can't complain." He chuckles. "So, you wanted to talk about journal club? I checked your powerpoint and everything seemed fine. What's wrong?"

"I just feel like I'm not getting it right."

"Why do you think that way? You know, journal club is for us to discuss the paper as a lab. You don't have to get everything right, Y/N."

"But, still." You pout and San almost melts into a puddle in his seat. Fuck, he thinks. This is gonna be difficult. "I just wanna make sure I'm at least getting the process or the concept of the paper correct." Professor Choi stands and walks around his desk and it's your turn to internally lose it. He's got on black slacks but they fit him so well— his outfit fits him so well, you don't think you've ever seen someone built so.. perfectly.

"Wanna walk though it?" You barely hear the question as your eyes continue to [subtly] glaze over his figure, and he surely catches on.

How much more obvious can you be?

Well, how could he not know how attractive he is? Him and his friends are a consistent, hot topic on campus.

He's so damn fine. He knows it.

"Y/N?" He leans back against the edge of his desk, snapping you out of your thoughts. He's got a leg crossed over the other, arms crossed tightly against his chest. His head is tilted while he watches you, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while you shift your eyes back up to meet his. You're sure you aren't seeing things. You're almost positive Professor Choi's subtly feeding into this, right? "Lost you there?"

"Yes. Sorry." You purse your lips together. "Got distracted."

"Hm." He hums, licking his lips. "Over what?"

"Nothing." You smile and shrug it off like it's nothing even though it clearly isn't. He knows, and he's not entirely mad about it one bit. It's a relief he's not the only one; question is, who's gonna be the first to break? San knows he can't, and it's a game he hates to play.

Doesn't mean he won't.

"Didn't seem like nothing."

"Swear." You stand to walk over to the whiteboard on his wall, grabbing a colored marker to start doodling out your thoughts for the journal club paper.

"Lying to me again?" He teases.

"I would never lie to you, Professor Choi." He chuckles, coming behind you as you continue to write.

"That's nice to know. I hope you know you can tell me anything, though." You pause, letting his words marinate. No, you don't know that. You don't think you can tell him how fine he is or how much you wanna jump his bones, not at all.

"I'm just confused." You continue your writing. The statement goes for a couple of things: the journal club paper, some of the data that you and Sunwoo have from recent behavior work, Professor Choi himself. "I need to know if I'm understanding it correctly." You point to the board, slowly turning over your shoulder to look at him. "I don't wanna misread anything." He subtly bites onto his bottom lip before stepping closer and taking the marker from your hand, drawing a huge circle around your writings.

"You're not." And for San, that statement can also go for a couple of things: your overthinking, the way you feel silly for questioning your understanding of the paper, you. "If it's one thing I can tell you Y/N— it's to not overthink and question every little thing. You'll waste time doing that when you've had it right all along." He looks at you and gives you one final reassurance: "You're not misreading any of this."

"Okay." You respond softly, eyes shifting to his lips and back up to his almond-shaped eyes. For some reason, this no longer feels like it's about the paper. For some reason, it feels like he's telling you he's on the same page, like he wants you just as bad as you want him. For some reason, you no longer feel like you're just delusional and in your feelings— even though, everything about this is completely wrong and against the code. It could fuck everything up for the both of you.

But, you don't care.

He doesn't either.

"So, tell me again." He clears his throat. You watch his adam's apple bob when he swallows, capping the marker as he sits back on the corner of his desk and looks at you. "What's your understanding about their process?" You continue to write on the board, explaining your understanding of the paper. Professor Choi continues to sit closely behind you, nodding in agreement as you talk him through it. He saw your presentation and he didn't find any flaws with it; he's not sure why you're second guessing yourself when you did everything correctly.

You've done everything perfectly.

"Y/N." He says lowly, almost near your ear. "You've got it down. Don't second guess yourself."

"I can't help it."

"Trust me, don't. You'll make it more complicated than it needs to be. That was perfect. Your presentation was great."

"Should I fix anything?"

"No."

"Professor Choi. Are you lying to me now?" He chuckles.

"Is that what you think of me?" He's fighting with himself, closing his hand into a fist to fight the urge to tuck your hair behind your ear. He continues to keep his eyes on yours, though. "You know I could never do that."

"I'll take your word for it." In the end, you've gotten the reassurance you felt like you needed, you yearned for. But, in the end, you've also grown more confidence— enough to believe that Professor Choi was in the same boat as you. Because he is, he just can't say it out loud right now. This has nothing to do with the lab. His work. Your rotation, your projects.

This is all about you, and just you.

"Good." His tone drops before he checks his phone. He lets out a sigh, a small frown growing on his lips. How the hell did 30 mins go by so fast? "Shit. I gotta run to another meeting." He says softly, eyes quickly shifting around you facial features. "Is it okay if we continue this on the phone later? Just to make sure you've got everything before journal club on Monday?"

"S-sure." You quickly look at his lips, back up to his eyes. "Yeah, sure."

"5pm okay for me to call?"

"Dinner time for you?"

"Mm, not really. Dinner is whenever I feel hungry." You chuckle and nod. "What about you?"

"I can eat after."

"Okay, 5pm."

"Thank you, Professor Choi."

"You're welcome." He smiles toothlessly, watching as you carefully walk past him and grab your things. Again, he fights the temptation to pull you by the waist and press you flush against his body—

Doing things only he can imagine in his head.

"Are you walking out or are you doing a Zoom meeting?" San forces himself to snap out of it, lowly clearing his throat as he walks around and plops onto his computer chair.

"Zoom. Talk later?" You smile before waving, leaving San to his peace. The tension in the room feels like it's finally gone, finally been lifted. He almost felt a little suffocated in his own office while having you there— but it's only because of how you make him feel, and now obviously, how he makes you feel. He lets out a hefty sigh, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes before hopping into the Zoom call about budgets and the status of his current grants.

The meeting goes on for so long, it feels like. The whole afternoon is a drag and San feels exhausted by the time it hits 4pm. He's skipping out on the gym today, still a little sore from yesterday's workout. As soon as he wraps up his last meeting, he packs up and leaves, saying goodbye to the one or two heads still lingering in the office area.

He still has enough groceries at home to make it through to the weekend, so he doesn't take any pitstops on the way home. He lets out a huge sigh when he finally pulls into his garage and parks the car, stepping out of his shoes and setting his bag aside in his office. He jogs upstairs to take a hot, steamy shower— enough to help relieve the stress from the week's activities. He throws on some flannel pajama pants and a white tee, heading back downstairs to throw some salmon and vegetables in the oven before cooking rice.

While waiting for his dinner to finish, he settles back down in his office and pulls up your contact info from the text thread just as it's about to hit 5pm. He leans back against the chair, listening to the phone ring on the other line.

"Hi." You pick up so sweetly and it immediately brings a smile to San's face despite his long afternoon.

"Hi. Still a good time to talk?" You sit on your couch, presentation popped up on your laptop.

"Yeah, it is."

"How was the rest of your afternoon?"

"It was okay. I just finished working with Belle on a few things after our meeting."

"Is that going well?"

"Yeah." You chuckle a bit. "I really like working with Sunwoo and Belle."

"I'm glad to hear that. That's all that matters." He pulls up your presentation, clicking through it as his eyes skim each slide.

"How was yours, Professor Choi?"

"Ah, well. Really long. But, it's over with." He laughs. "So, I'm skimming through your presentation and everything looks fine. I think the one thing I'll say is, maybe you should add another slide to talk about the results that didn't pan out well. I know we typically don't do stuff like that, but it helps us discuss what went wrong and what they should've done to get the end result they wanted."

"Oh, yeah. I was thinking about that but wasn't sure if I should."

"You definitely should. Remember what I said about not second-guessing yourself?" He says in a light-hearted tone that has you rolling your eyes and holding in a big smile.

"I know, I know."

"I think the only other thing I'd add is a slide on Figure 2 and 3. It isn't much, but it does relate a lot to what we do in lab. Think you can handle that?"

"Yeah, I can."

"Yeah?" He repeats, sinking into his seat with his legs spread. "Good." He hears you typing away before you sigh, pausing the conversation for a brief moment while you gather your thoughts and take notes.

"What else are you doing this evening, Professor Choi?" You finally break the silence after a few.

"Hm." He hums. "Just talking to you." You can hear the smirk through the phone, see it even. You bite your bottom lip and shift your position on the couch, heat rising to your cheeks— pooling at your core replaying the deep tone he speaks in.

"Nothing else?"

"Don't really need to do anything else while I'm on the phone with you, no." You sit on his statement, hand toying with the string from your sweats. He doesn't need to do anything else because he's on the phone with you? You take it as a compliment, one that has your heart beating through your chest, palms all sweaty again. He was going to be the death of you.

"Y/N! Let's go! I'm hungry!" You hear Felix from the other side of your door, and San does, too. He lets out a silent chuckle, a little sad he's gonna have to let you go eventually.

"Is there anything else I should do?"

"For?" He questions because his mind is running through a million thoughts at once. You are very much talking about journal club, but he's very much thinking about other things; ways to push you and him forward.

"The slides."

"No. That's all, Y/N. It's perfect."

"Thank you."

"Y/N! Please! They have the best menu tonight, we need to go before everyone gets there!" Felix whines, making the rest of your friends laugh as he pounds on the door. "What are you even doing anyway?!"

"I gotta go." You sigh and shut your laptop. "My friends are about to bust my door down." He chuckles.

"Well, hope the call helped, Y/N."

"It did, Professor Choi. All of this did. Thank you again."

"Course. Have a good night."

"You too." San subtly nibbles on his bottom lip as he hears you breathily respond, the tone and sound of your voice immediately doing things to him. He clears his throat to rid himself of the thoughts, to rid himself of the feeling, distracting himself with the unread emails sitting in his inbox and the random announcements for the week.

Well now, Namjoon's sudden group text with him, Jongho, Christopher, Mingi and Yeosang.

namjoon: my brilliant, all-star fellas

chris: oh lord, what is it?

namjoon: 😀 need ya'll to attend the happy hour event

yeosang: to babysit? yaaaay love this time of the year...... !!

namjoon: lol no, just to hang out! please 🥹 gotta show the students we're involved in student life esp at the start of the new quarter. you know this!

jongho: they run around in our labs and play w/ our equipment

jongho: how much more involved do we need to be exactly

san: 🤣 what're the details again? sorry i totally glazed over that email. it's probably in my trash bin actually

namjoon: all that energy put into announcements just for you to trash it 🫤

namjoon: tomorrow, starts at 7pm at the monroe bar

san: i'll be there

mingi: same

yeosang: 🫡

jongho: 👍🏼

namjoon: knew i could trust my boys!

jongho: make the dean give me and san some real estate

namjoon: putting my phone on dnd now 😅

namjoon: jk yes don't worry, i'll work my magic ok. give me a bit of time, but i got you.

namjoon: thanks guys, have a good evening!

San lets out a breath when he sets his phone aside and runs a hand down his face, mustering all the energy he has left to get his dinner together and onto a plate. He can't, though. His thoughts are too stuck on you, and the way you look. The way you act around him. The way you sound on the phone.

With how big the welcome back happy hour event tends to be, there's no doubt you'll be there with your friends. And as much as San is excited to see you outside of the lab, enjoying yourself in a bar with your friends—

He knows it's equally, incredibly dangerous for him.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension

163 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 1 month ago

Note

please please pleeeeeease more of assistant×harry!! 🥺

Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist

August 2013

In just a year of being Harry Styles’ assistant, Y/n had seen a lot, experienced a lot, and learned to expect just about anything, which was why her head began to throb before they even touched down in Las Vegas.

“Here,” a voice said from above her. Y/n was supposed to be answering emails and prepping for all the appearances Harry was supposed to make before the jet landed, but she decided to close her eyes. Just for a few minutes. Not that anyone would’ve noticed, anyway. The boys were all hanging out in the back of the plane, and Natalie, Zayn’s assistant, was watching the boys to make sure they didn’t get into too much trouble. All the assistants took turns when the boys of One Direction were in a confined space together; tag teaming just seemed the fairest deal.

When she peeked an eye open, though, she was surprised to see Harry standing beside her seat, a mug in his outstretched hand. Smiling, she took it, watching through tired eyes as he sat down across from her. He was in a red flannel shirt, though it was hardly buttoned, and the black skinny jeans he’d taken to wearing almost the entire tour. He had multiple pairs, all the same exact brand and style, just in case one ripped. Y/n would know. She had to race all over Manhattan when that very nightmare happened and Harry didn’t have any backups. Now there were at least four in his suitcase at all times. And an extra one in her backpack just to be safe. Harry swore the bag that followed her everywhere was made of magic because her whole life—and his—was nearly placed in there. But Y/n knew it wasn’t magic, she was just prepared for everything.

“I told the boys we’d be on our best behavior while we’re here. Just for you,” Harry said, giving Y/n his most innocent grin.

She’d seen that grin too many times to believe him, but the sentiment was nice. He and the boys were never menaces to her or the other assistants per day, but their antics did make her life more difficult depending on what they got up to. “That’s sweet of you.”

“I’m a sweet guy,” Harry said with a grin. Then with a nod toward Y/n’s phone, he asked, “Who’re you texting over there?”

“I’m not texting anyone. I’m sending emails,” she said.

“What? Even while we’re in the air?” he asked incredulously. “Do you ever not work?”

Y/n grinned. “Of course.”

“Well then put the phone down and talk to me. I feel like I've known you forever but I don't actually know you” Harry said, and it sounded like he was almost whining.

Y/n looked up from her phone. Harry’s eyes were pleading as he leaned forward in his seat. She was honestly a little surprised that he was so insistent that she talk to him. He was always nice of course, and they’d had brief conversations that didn’t involve work here and there, but Harry didn’t know much about Y/n personally. She kept her personal life private for the most part, for no other reason than she liked to keep things professional while she was working.

Setting her phone down, Y/n crossed her leg over the other and looked at Harry expectantly. "Alright. What would you like to know?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Y/n choked on the tea Harry had given her. "That's the question you want to start with?"

Harry shrugged before leaning in playfully. "Are you avoiding the question?"

"No. To both questions," she answered honestly.

"Hm."

"Hm? What's that supposed to mean?" Y/n asked. She thought they were having a lighthearted conversation but Harry looked contemplative.

"Why not?" he asked, not answering her question.

Y/n ran a tired hand over her face. "This is starting to feel like an interrogation, Mr. Styles."

"Sorry, sorry, I don't mean to pry," he said, leaning back in his seat. The playful gleam in his green eyes told Y/n differently, though. "I just feel like you know a lot of intimate details about my life, and all I know is that you like cinnamon bagels and have an affinity for wearing black. And you always manage to wake up before I do, which just seems outrageous to me sometimes."

Y/n pondered what he said and supposed he had a point. She did know a lot about Harry's relationships, or the intimate details of his life he referred to based on his line of questioning. But it was her job to know. She made sure he was up and ready each day, she ensured that no one night stands overstayed their welcome or helped themselves to his clothes after he was gone; she was privy to his PR dates and the ones he wanted no one else to know about. Their... relationship was one sided, and Y/n didn't fault him for his curiosity.

"You know how I take my tea, and that I drink tea at all," she finally said, her voice light.

Harry smiled, as if he'd been waiting to engage in whatever game he'd been trying to play with her since he sat down across from her. "I noticed you reach for the tea packets whenever we fly."

"It relaxes me," Y/n admitted.

"Do you not like flying?"

Y/n shrugged, trying to act more casual than she felt. "It's mostly the takeoff and landing. I don't know it just...freaks me out a little. All the jostling and pressure and whatnot."

"You picked a strange job if you don't like to fly, I'm afraid," Harry said.

"Hence the herbal tea. I'd take something a little stronger if I didn't think you boys would do something the minute my eyes were closed."

"We wouldn't—I would never—You can take a nap around us, Y/n," Harry said, frowning as if he were truly offended by what she said. "I know we like to pull pranks or whatever, but we wouldn't. I wouldn't let them do that to you."

His sincerity was sweet, his gaze hard and imploring. Y/n didn't mean for their conversation to turn down this route but somehow it did, and she couldn't help but notice how angular Harry's features were when he looked at her like that. Protective.

Something light and airy unfurled in her belly that she pointedly ignored.

"I was mostly kidding, but thank you."

And just like that, the hard look was gone, the tense fog lifted. Harry grinned and reached in his back pocket, pulling out a deck of cards. “Play with me?”

“You don’t want to play with the boys?” Y/n asked, genuinely curious.

“I need to practice for this weekend, and they’re not good enough competition.”

“Oh, and I am?” she said. Y/n knew how to play cards, but she wasn’t any kind of pro.

"We're about to find out."

Harry set the cards on the table between them and split the deck to shuffle them. Y/n watched his hands as the cards shuffled between his long, nimble fingers. There were calluses on them now from learning to play the guitar. He was a couple months in, and he was already pretty good. Harry often played the new songs or chords he learned for her, eager to show his progress and knowing she wouldn’t judge him when his fingers slipped from time to time.

When he finally stopped, Y/n realized she’d been openly staring at his hands for a little too long. She snapped her head up, thankful that Harry hadn’t caught her staring. Shuffling around in her seat, she asked, “What are we playing?”

*.*

Later that night, Y/n was alone in her hotel room. One Direction’s performance in Las Vegas went off without a hitch, and the boys had hit the Strip to celebrate. Harry insisted she join them, promising a night she would never forget, but she declined. She had plans of her own tonight.

Finishing the last touches on her hair and giving herself one last check in the mirror, Y/n grabbed her keys and her purse. A knock on the door sounded, and thinking it was Natalie, Y/n rushed to open it. When she did, her eyes widened.

“Mr. Styles? What are you doing here?”

Harry was in fact standing on the other side of her door, a bottle of champagne in one hand and the same deck of cards they’d played with on the plane in the other. They'd played until it was time for landing. Y/n had a large pile of candy by the end of it—Harry had wanted to play with real money but Y/n joked she couldn't afford to play real poker with him. And as the plane started to descend, Harry switched seats so that he was beside her, offered his hand for her to squeeze until the plane finally touched down. It had been the most tension-free landing of the tour for Y/n, and though neither of them said anything about it, Harry knew she was grateful for him being there.

He looked sheepish now as he took her in, the realization that she was on her way out striking him as he saw her clothes—a pair of jeans and a black button down top that was only buttoned in the middle, and black boots to match.

“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling up for going out tonight, so I came down here to—but of course you have plans. It’s your night off, you’re allowed to—”

“Is everything okay, Mr. Styles?” you asked with a furrowed brow. “Did you need me to call a doctor? Run down to the pharmacy? I can—”

“No, I…I came here to—to play cards again, but if you already have plans I won’t get in your way.”

Y/n’s head tilted to the side, partly confused and partly endeared. Harry was a kind boss, but he’d never come to her hotel room to hang out before, especially when parties and liquor were guaranteed elsewhere. The time she spent with him was strictly professional.

“Natalie and I had planned to go out tonight,” she said, looking down at her purse.

Y/n didn’t often go out while on tour, but Natalie knew someone that could get them into some exclusive rooftop bar with discounted drinks. She hadn’t had a night off in a while and thought it would be a fun and responsible way to spend her time in Vegas. But now that Harry was here…

“I can cancel—”

“Don’t you dare,” Harry said, stepping away from the door. His eyes trailing up and down her body in a way that didn’t feel entirely professional. A look Y/n chose to ignore. “I should’ve asked you earlier.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us,” Y/n said.

She wasn’t sure how Natalie would feel about that. Her friend had made it clear that she wanted a night away from the boys of One Direction so she could let loose a little. But she didn’t want to just leave Harry on her doorstep.

“No, no, you go. I’m not in a partying mood tonight,” Harry said, waving Y/n off.

“If you’re sure,” she said.

“I’m sure.”

“Next time, then,” she offered.

Harry smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Then, before she could say anything else, Harry fished his wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled out a couple bills and handed them to her. Y/n tried to protest, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, making sure he watched her put the money in her purse. “And take my driver too. There’s a lot of creeps out there. Dominic will take good care of you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” Y/n said graciously.

“No problem, Y/n, and for the last time, it’s Harry.”

Y/n grinned as she let the door shut behind her. “Whatever you say, Mr. Styles.”

*.*

Y/n trudged through the halls of the lavish hotel, her boots shuffling tiredly across the carpet. She’d had a good night, but when Natalie and a group they’d met at the bar wanted to move onto a club, Y/n decided it was time to go. She had her fun, but she wasn’t the clubbing type, and she had to be up early the next morning.

And she couldn’t help but think about Harry sitting around in his hotel room all alone. She spent nearly every waking moment with him, and yet on her night off, she felt the need to go see him, be with him. Y/n enjoyed hanging out with Harry on the plane to Vegas. It had been the first time they’d interacted with each other in a non-professional way. He told her goofy jokes and playfully tried to peek at her cards, a look of genuine surprise when she beat him on more than one occasion.

For a moment, Y/n had actually forgotten that he wasn’t her boss and that she wasn’t his assistant. For a moment, they were just two friends going on a trip somewhere.

And for whatever reason, Y/n wanted to revisit that moment. She bypassed her floor’s button on the elevator, opting to press the one a few levels up from hers. The hall was quiet, which made sense if the other boys were still out. Harry told Y/n earlier that he wanted a quiet night in, but as she approached his door, she heard music and muffled voices from the other side. She had his extra key and would’ve been able to enter no problem, but when she made it to the double doors of Harry’s suite, she elected to knock. Maybe she should’ve left when she realized he had company, but she stayed, eager to see him for some reason.

It took a minute or two for someone to answer. With the music so loud, Y/n wasn’t surprised no one could hear her knock. She nearly gave up after knocking a third time, the door finally opened.

“Can I help you?”

It was a young man. A handsome young man with short brown hair and freckles over his nose and a deep skin tone. His eyes looked droopy, like he’d woken up just to answer the door. Or had recently smoked a joint. The latter was more likely.

“I’m Mr. Styles’ assistant. I just thought I would check in. He has an early morning tomorrow.”

“Oh. Um…He’s…busy?” the man said, clearly not wanting the fun to stop. “Should I get him for you?”

Y/n had never been in this predicament before. Sure, she knew Harry occasionally liked to invite someone into his hotel room for a night of fun, and this wasn’t the first time she’d found another boy keeping him company in this way. The first time that happened, Harry wouldn’t meet her eye for a whole day, but she never judged him for it, and she never said a word of it to him or anyone else. That was his personal business, not hers.

So the boy wasn’t what caught her off guard. It was that he was awake. Y/n always interacted with Harry’s one, sometimes two, night stands the morning after, equipped with a pen and an NDA, and possibly a sharp wit, depending on how reluctant the individual was to leave. But she’d never been in this position before, in the middle of it. She felt embarrassed, at a loss for words.

“N—No,” she finally said. “He just told me he wasn’t feeling well earlier. I thought I’d check on him before heading to bed, but…it seems like he’s feeling better.”

That’s and understatement, Y/n thought. She felt disappointed for some reason. She knew she shouldn’t have, but she really thought Harry would want to hang out, that he would somehow be waiting for her to come back, which was stupid. He had no reason to.

Y/n finally started to shuffle away, leaving Harry and his companion to his own devices. The door shut after the young man gave her a small smile and a wave, leaving her alone in an all too quiet hallway, the sounds of their voices muffled by the thin walls.

Sleep was in order. She knew that she was probably having an off day. Too much traveling, no doubt. Harry wasn’t her friend. She was his assistant, hired by his management team to make sure his every need and whim was met and sought to. Tomorrow she would wake up and remember that.

*.*

The next morning when Y/n stepped onto the plane, Harry was already seated in her little corner of the jet, a deck of cards, two steaming mugs, a multitude of snacks, and a big blanket were waiting. He didn't say anything about last night, so she didn't either. Not a word was said at all during takeoff, Harry merely offered his hand again, and when the plane was leveled in the air, he took out the deck of cards.

"Up for another round? This time Oreos are on the line so I'm less inclined to lose."

After that, plane rides weren't so bad anymore.

#harry styles #harry styles x assistant!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n

255 notes · View notes

earthtooz · 2 years ago

Text

cw: fluff with minimal angst, reader and tsumu had an argument, msby4 is there, food mentions, probably bad writing like i just wrote this but i can't remember what i actually wrote which is a little alarming..., unedited and not proofread :,)

<bokuto3: hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: WHY DOES BOKKUN HAVE YOUR CONTACT AS '<y/n3'?????? OUTRAGEOUS.

<bokuto3: anyways hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: i miss u :( pls unblock me asap i'm sorry baby please i really am

<bokuto3: please don't be mad at me i thikn i'm lodsing my mind

<bokuto3: call me back. or text me back. unbloc k my email too thanx

<bokuto3: okay bye i luv u to the moon and back

<bokuto3: i'd do anything for u baby pls jyst talk to me again and i'd even swallow hot coals if you asked pls pls pls

<bokuto3: i love you

you: give bokuto his phone back. get back to practice. bye.

<bokuto3: LOVE OF MY LIFE

<bokuto3: NO Y/N PLEASE I MISS YOU SO MUCH DON'T GO

you pocket your phone with a sigh, ignoring the way it continually buzzes with with messages and spam texts, probably just of atsumu professing his undying love for you and grovelling. pretty standard of him after an argument so intense that you had to walk out on before things escalated to places you would regret.

you can't deny that you miss him too, and it's been less than 24 hours since you saw him last.

in fact, you literally saw him this morning when sending him off to practice with a grumbled 'have a good practice' after he kissed over your forehead with a lightness rivalling a feather. a gentleness typically unseen from him.

really, the blond setter was just terrified of irritating you further.

then when you got up half an hour later, you're not pleased to see how atsumu was spamming you with messages, all conveying the messages he was scared of saying earlier. things like 'i love you', 'can't wait to go home to you', or 'did you see the photo of osamu's cat i sent'.

it's sweet, really; he is, but when you're still a little hurt from the harsh exchange you had last night, you didn't want him blowing up your phone this early in the morning.

so your only solution for a peaceful morning was to block him apparently.

something that clearly did not sit well with him because he then started spamming your socials and your emails with protests. did he not have practice to get to? where was all this time coming from?

you blocked him on those platforms too from the goodness of your heart because you had a feeling that he was skipping warmup in order to text you. if he pulled a muscle during practice, you don't want to begin imagining what a pain he'd be to look after.

glancing around the park you were currently strolling through to clear your mind, you only get a second to breathe when your phone starts buzzing again. this time, with a call notification from bokuto.

picking up, you immediately assume that it's atsumu who is bothering you after suffering the blows of how hard you've been ghosting him.

"atsumu for the love of-"

you're cut off of your own sentence when you hear somewhat muffled voices in the background.

"damn you messed up big time!" comes hinata's bubbly voice. you can indistinctly hear someone agreeing in the background- bokuto?

"stop rubbing it in!" atsumu exclaims, whining. you can picture him in your head right now, slouching against the wall as he deflates with each reminder of his mistake.

bokuto must have pocket-dialed you. you're about to hang up until you hear:

"how about you stop being miserable? your relationship with y/n will be fine as long as you apologise, this isn't the end of the world," lectures sakusa.

"for you maybe! ah already feel like y/n's slipping away from my grasp," cries your boyfriend. "and y/n is my world. so really, it does feel like the end of the world."

"you know what they say. love kills," mutters bokuto.

"literally no one has ever said that," sakusa deadpans.

"someone's probably said it."

"well if love does kill can it hurry up with atsumu?"

the dark-haired's simple statement makes you laugh, one that bursts suddenly before you have to cover your mouth from shame, hoping that it didn't disturb anyone.

"hey!" atsumu huffs before you can hear him groan dramatically again. except something's telling you that this isn't for show. "can't ya show a little sympathy to the guy who is having the worst time of his life? my partner doesn't even want to talk to me! i might as well rot right here and now."

"don't do that!" protests bokuto. "i'm sure y/n isn't as mad as you think. just talk to-"

"-what do you think i've been doing this whole time? i've been grovelling-"

"-no, you've been a bitch. i don't think telling y/n to 'text you back' counts as a proper apology."

the setter 'hmphs' and you can imagine the way he's crossing his arms. atsumu never did lose that immature side of him, but he tries, and you adore him for it. "is proclaiming my love not enough?"

"you can say 'i love you' to everyone, idiot, and you can confess your undying adoration for y/n any time. you do it on a regular basis anyways, atsumu, you don't need to double down on it just because you had an argument-"

"-but i'm scared that y/n will forget!"

the blond's outburst stuns everyone into silence. you hear a sniffle.

"what if i'm not worth the time? sometimes i get really scared that y/n might pack up and leave me because there's someone better out there. someone more patient and less of a hassle?"

it's so painfully silent, but each word that atsumu mutters is like a knife to your heart. how long has he felt this way?

hinata is the first to break the awkwardness. "c'mon man, you're literally high school sweethearts. i don't think you have anything to worry about."

"yeah, you're being silly right now, tsum-tsum!" bokuto agrees. "after all this time together, i think y/n has a reason to stay with you!"

"apart from my dashing good looks?"

"stupidity is temporary. get better soon," sakusa grumbles.

"omi-omi you're so mean!"

you hang up the call when you hear atsumu's chirpy tone again, unable to stop a smile from appearing on your own face. so long as he was happy, you were too.

that's what happens when you're soulmates, you suppose.

it's the same soulmate bond responsible for the fact that you were currently waiting outside the gym where msby practices were held, impatiently leaning against a small pole as you pass time on your phone.

then, just as you look up to check if anyone has left the building, your heart stops at the sight of a familiar faux-blond, animatedly chatting to one of his teammates. but when he meets your gaze, it takes him less than a fraction of a second to charge towards you.

instead of bracing for impact, you open your arms for him to tackle into, an offer he takes immediately.

as you both stumble backwards from the momentum, atsumu revels in your laughter and cherishes the feeling he gets knowing that everything is okay between you two. you chose to greet him after practice, you chose to go the somewhat inconvenient route all the way to his gym, you chose him and he hopes you never consider another option again.

and you won't. atsumu loves too hard and too well, warming you from the inside out to defrost any pain the coldness of life might leave you with. although he sometimes gets insecure about this overbearing trait of his, you get to show him each time just how beautiful it is; to wear your heart on your sleeve and love the world for what it is.

to love you for who you are.

"i'm sorry," he begins. "for what ah said last night, i was a real dick."

you smile. "well if you're really sorry, you'd let me take you out for some food, right?"

"only if it's your favourite."

"okay, sap. let's go then."

you think you hear atsumu whisper a 'thank you for letting me love you' before pulling him away.

#i wrote this while fighting for my life evidently #enjoy/?? i think???? idrk...#atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x you #atsumu x you #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq memes #hq drabble #atsumu fluff

3K notes · View notes

brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 3 months ago

Text

say you miss me | kylian mbappé

🥂 synopsys: you haven’t seen kylian mbappé in 10 years, but when he calls asking for a favor, everything changes. kylian, now a successful football star, is organizing a charity dinner and believes you're the perfect person to help him. warnings: a little angsty, a little fluffly. ( around 3.5k words )

PART I

Théo raised chickens. That was the thing that made you interested in him, actually. The first time you met him was when your friend took you to his house for a random dinner party. In your first conversation together he told you about the chickens and how he ate fresh eggs every day.

He lived in a townhouse in the middle of Paris that somehow had a garden big enough for him to raise some chickens. Perks of being a rockstar, if you were to guess.

At the time you thought you wanted that more than anything – eating fresh eggs every morning with him. You kept thinking that for the following couple of years and until twenty seconds ago, when he got down on his knees in the middle of that same garden, with both of your families surrounding you.

Théo kneels before you and it’s so hard to understand what he’s saying. Your brain is simply refusing to make sense of the words coming out of his mouth. You’re hearing but you’re not really listening, it’s confusing. You start to hyperventilate because you’re seen it before – in the movies, but still, you know what he’s doing.

And then he says it, like he’s casting a curse on you.

“Will you marry me?”

“No…” Comes out so softly that you’re not sure you even said it. So you repeat it, “no, no…”

You’re being firm now. Your eyebrows are furrowed and you’re squinting your eyes trying to understand where the hell did he get this idea from. You never talked about marriage and then he decides to do this in front of your family?

“What?” Théo looks confused. Why is he confused?

“No!” You forget any other words you might have to say to him and just keep repeating: no, no, no…

Until you’re out of the door, on the street. It’s a warm Parisian spring evening, but it's difficult to appreciate the weather right now. Your cousin has her arms around your shoulder and it sounds like she’s giving you advice but you tell her you’re getting a car and going home. Your uncle insists on driving you but you finally manage to get your phone out of your purse and it’s ready to open a ride app.

That’s when you get a notification.

Kylian Mbappé has sent you a message.

You don’t know where he got your phone number – you haven't changed it in ten years, is it possible that he just remembers it? You feel your stomach getting sick but you still open the message because it doesn't make any sense doing anything else.

It’s an audio message, forty seconds. Forty seconds of him talking to you for the first time in ten years. You put your phone in your ear and bite your nails while you listen, paying attention to his words, with your cousin still holding onto you.

“Hi…” There’s a half-second pause. “Hey, I know it’s been a while…” Another brief pause. “I’m throwing this dinner party. Uhh… A fundraiser event. It’s a farewell party, in a way.” He giggles, you still remember his laughter. “I wanted it to be meaningful, tastefull.” You hear him taking a deep breath. “And I think you can help me with that. Uhh… I would love to meet up. If you can, when you can… Anyway, that’s it.”

Immediately after, he sends a text that you read right away:

sorry, i was trying to make the phone write it for me these things never work, right? i was going to send an email anyway how are you?

PART II

I've been sleepin' alone, out on my own I'm sure it seems like I'm takin' my time to get back to you You been doin' your part, working real hard I'm not lying, sure it seems like I'm trying to get back at you

He asks you to meet him at a restaurant for brunch, he’s there with his publicist and a couple of friends. The place is in the fancy neighborhood you never go to. In the venn diagram that is both of your lifes, this is the circle you avoid overlapping.

It’s not like you’re not used to hanging out with the rich and famous, but they’re usually all pretentious artists who think they’re underground / alternative / progressive but are actually nepo babies wasting their families fortune on what should have stayed as a hobby. No shame on your ex, of course.

Kylian looks amazing, and you hold your tongue not to cuss under your breath. You try to focus on your breathing but as he shakes your hand, it’s his perfume that invades your mind. He starts doing the whole ‘meeting an old friend and being polite about it’ routine, and it almost makes you walk out.

“It’s just funny that we’re meeting when you’re about to leave.” You say, for a lack of better words.

It’s difficult to hold a conversation at first, you find it difficult to even make eye contact with him. The restaurant is a bit crowded and the noise around you is helping you calm down, sometimes focusing on another's table conversation.

Kylian was never your boyfriend. You two never really dated. He was your first kiss and the first guy that saw you without your bra on, but it was never an official relationship. Even if your last conversation felt like a break up and even if it feels like you are sitting in front of your ex, you're not. Because he was never your boyfriend.

“It’s not like I’m leaving forever.” He says with a big smile. Kylian looks genuinely happy. It’s almost contagious, but you try not to show it, feeling inappropriate. “Paris will always be my home.” He pauses then, searching for the right words. “But I have this feeling… That I need a proper goodbye before moving on.” And then faster than a blink, he corrects himself. “Not a goodbye, more like a ‘thank you and see you soon’.” Now he looks embarrassed, eyebrows furrowed, he’s trying to be honest with you, this person he hasn't seen in forever, trying to express his feelings. “With the club there was a goodbye, you know. We won a final title together…” He looks at his friend for courage and they all nod at him, so he continues. “I want something like that with the city. Because it’s the city I’ll miss the most. I think it’s about the feeling of leaving a place better than I found it.”

It’s strange seeing him pouring out his emotions like that, being trusted with so much information after so long, but at the same time it feels like no time has passed and it is only natural for him to share all that. Smiling brightly again, he asks:

“I heard you did something like that for Di Caprio, so why not me?”

You laugh loudly at that. The thing is, you work as an event planner at this really small company for the last 3-4 years, you also spend a lot of your time doing charity work in the neighborhood you grew up in. And because of your ex you got to meet all kinds of progressive / pretentious a-list artists. Including a certain Hollywood actor who hired you to organize his annual charity event. Now, how did Kylian find out about it? You had no idea. You took great pride in being a private person.

“So you want a Leo Di Caprio kind of party?” You ask, still chuckling. Kylian shakes his head and now with the help of his publicist and close friends, they all begin to explain to you what they were thinking. Is easy to understand and you think you already knew what he wanted the minute he contacted you. He doesn't want anything luxurious or it’ll look tacky and disrespectful, but nothing too simple or it’ll seem careless.

You nod throughout their explanation, knowing all you can do is hope that you’re really the right person for the job.

PART III

Do you miss me too? Baby say I'll miss you, just say you'll miss me too (Ooh, ooh, ooh) Do you miss me too? Baby say I'll miss you, just say you'll miss me too

He doesn't have to be here. But he shows up for the meetings anyway, and he has an opinion on every little thing being discussed. It will be a celebration of young athletic talent in Paris and there’s a few partnerships involving organizations that help those young athletes and invest in sports.

As it’s all being explained, you desperately try to slip your professional persona into place. His publicist is a polished woman in her mid-thirties, wearing a sleek black dress. She’s going over the logistics, but you’re barely listening. Instead, you’re watching Kylian as he nods along, occasionally interjecting with his ideas. He seems almost boyish in his excitement, and it’s hard to reconcile this version of him with the memory you have.

In your memory he’s still a teenage boy, in your memory he never really grew up.

“Alright.” You say, pulling out your phone to start making notes. “We’ll need to narrow down the locations, figure out the logistics, and–”

“Dinner.” Kylian interrupts, and you look up, confused.

“What?”

“Let’s go over the details tonight, over dinner.” He says, flashing you that smile – the one that always made you weak in the knees. “Just us. It’ll be like old times.”

You hesitate. He is half-joking because the two of you never had dinner together, ‘old times’ was just two kids hanging out after school and in between his football practice sessions. But then you see the way he’s looking at you, hopeful and a little vulnerable, and you find yourself nodding.

“Dinner it is.” You say, trying to keep your tone light, even though your heart is pounding in your chest.

He takes you to his favorite place where he knows all the people and shows off about understanding the menu. The food is actually so great that for a while there’s a comfortable silence at the table, the two of you focused on eating to the sound of silverware clinking. It’s Kylian that breaks the silence, almost wishing he hasn’t.

“You know, I was surprised you answered me.”

You look up. “Really?”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a long time. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me again.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You ask him, genuinely puzzled. “We may not have talked in a while, but that doesn’t mean I forgot about you. Besides, this is important to you. How could I say no?”

He looks down at his plate, fiddling with his fork. “I guess I just didn’t know where we stood. I didn’t want to assume anything.”

You shake your head, a feeling of embarrassment creeping over you. You didn’t expect him to address the past so bluntly, so you try to play it cool.

“We were kids. I’m not holding grudges for something that happened when we were fifteen, and I hope you don’t either.”

He looks up at you then, and you can see the relief in his eyes. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

The rest of the evening passes in a blur. By the time you leave the restaurant, you’re both feeling more than a little nostalgic.

PART IV

I've been losing my mind, wastin' my time I'm not crazy, sure it seems like I'm lazy, let's get back to you You been takin' it hard, I know it's hard I'm not lyin' sure it seems like I'm tryin' to get back at you

As you step outside the restaurant, Kylian walks beside you, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“Do you want me to call a car for you?” He asks.

You hesitate, glancing around the mostly empty street. “Actually… would you mind walking me home? It’s not far.”

He looks pleasantly surprised, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Sure, of course.”

The walk is short, but it feels longer with every step. The conversation is light, mostly small talk.

When you reach your building, you stop at the entrance, turning to face him. Kylian looks at you, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. The street lamp casts a soft glow, and you can see the way his eyes search yours.

“Well… this is me.” You say, your voice coming out softer than you intended. You don’t really want to say goodbye.

Kylian nods, his eyes lingering on you. “Yeah… I guess this is goodnight, then.”

There’s a pause, a heartbeat of silence where you should probably just say goodbye, but instead, you find yourself stepping closer. It’s like something takes over, something that has nothing to do with reason or thought – just pure instinct.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, you lean in and press your lips to his. The kiss is quick, almost like a reflex, and the second it happens, you freeze, pulling back slightly, shocked by your own boldness.

“Sorry, I didn’t –” You start to say, already kicking yourself for acting on impulse, but before you can finish, Kylian reaches out, his hand gently cupping your face.

“Don’t be.” He whispers, and then he pulls you back in, his lips finding yours with a tenderness that takes your breath away.

This kiss is different – deeper, more intentional. Like he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as you have. His other hand slides around your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the warmth of his body against yours.

Time stops for a moment, and all you can think about is the way his lips move against yours, the way his hand cradles your face like you’re something precious. You melt into the kiss, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater as if to anchor yourself to the moment.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other. And then you start to panic.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” You blurt out, your hands shooting up into the air as you take a step back from him. Your heart races, and your mind spirals into a panic. “That’s… Wow. That’s crazy, right?” You look around your completely empty street, trying to lower your voice not to awaken your mostly elderly neighbors. You start taking quick, deep breaths, feeling your anxiety level go over the roof. “I just got out of this super long relationship, like a week ago!”

Kylian chuckles, a sound that’s both comforting and maddening to the mental state you are. “Oh, so I’m the rebound?” He asks, clearly amused by your reaction. His relaxed demeanor only makes you feel more frantic. He’s very obviously not taking the situation as seriously as you are.

You shake your head, running a hand through your hair. “No! Well… I don’t know. The guy proposed… I think my brain is in this fantasy, ‘what if’ mode. Meeting you again is just making it worse. I don’t know!” The words tumble out, each more confusing than the last.

“Hey, hey.” Kylian interrupts, stepping closer but keeping his hands at his sides, giving you space. “Breathe, okay? It’s fine.”

His calmness is like a lifeline, and you latch onto it, trying to match your breathing to his steady, measured pace. He’s not panicking. Why isn’t he panicking? Shouldn’t he be panicking?

“I just kissed you!” You exclaim, still unable to fully grasp what just happened. “I didn’t even think – I just… did it!”

“And it was nice.” He says gently, his voice low and soothing. “But it doesn’t have to mean anything unless you want it to.”

His words start to sink in, and you feel the tightness in your chest begin to loosen. You take a few more deep breaths, closing your eyes for a moment to gather your thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” You say again, more softly this time, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. “I didn’t mean to freak out on you. I just – this is all a lot, you know?”

Kylian nods, his expression full of understanding. “I get it.” He smiles a soft, genuine smile that makes you feel warm all over. “So… Do we say goodnight again?”

You can’t help but laugh, the tension finally breaking. “I guess.”

He grins, leaning in just enough to brush a kiss against your cheek, a sweet, lingering gesture that doesn’t send your anxiety skyrocketing this time. “Goodnight.” He whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“Goodnight.” You echo, your voice steady, your heart finally slowing to a more manageable pace.

PART V/THE END

Baby say I'll miss you, just say you'll miss me too Baby say I'll miss you, just say you'll miss me too

After the party ends, you stick around, helping with the cleanup, organizing the last of the decorations, and gathering up stray glasses. It’s late – well past midnight – and you’re beginning to feel the weight of the day settling into your bones.

Kylian lingers too, standing off to the side, watching you with a quiet intensity. His presence is both comforting and distracting, making it hard to focus on the tasks at hand. His mother and sister-in-law are still there as well, keeping a watchful eye on him, but more relaxed now that the crowd has thinned out.

Eventually, the staff finishes up, and you all find yourselves sitting at one of the now bare tables. The tablecloths and decorations are long gone, leaving only the plain wooden surface beneath. The room is dimly lit, a soft glow from the remaining lights.

His niece and nephew are fast asleep in the arms of their mother and grandmother. You’re not entirely sure how you all ended up sitting down together, but once the conversation started, it was hard to walk away. There’s a comfortable rhythm to it, a natural flow as you swap stories, forgotten memories from childhood, and update each other on old friends.

Kylian’s mother tells a story about a long-ago summer when Kylian and his brother got into some trouble, and everyone laughs as Kylian sheepishly confirms the details. Melissa chimes in with a joke about a recent family gathering. You find yourself laughing along, feeling more at ease with each passing moment.

At some point, you look at the time and realize it’s well past 1 AM. “I should probably get going.” You say, reaching for your phone. “I’ll call an Uber.”

“Nonsense.” Fayza says, waving away your concern. “His driver will take you home.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble –”

“It’s no trouble.” Melissa insists, adjusting her sleeping child in her arms. “But he’ll have to make two trips. We’ll go first, and then he’ll come back for you and Kylian.”

You start to protest again, but Kylian gives you a reassuring smile. “That sounds good to me.” He says lightly.

You nod, conceding, and soon enough, the driver arrives. You help Fayza and Mel bundle the kids into the car, making sure they’re all settled in for the short ride. As they drive off, you and Kylian are left alone.

He looks at you, his gaze soft and lingering, as if he’s trying to memorize every detail of this moment. “I’m glad you stayed.” He says, his voice low and sincere.

“And you’re leaving in a week.” You reply, slightly shifting the conversation.

“It’s Spain.” He bargains, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “I’m not going to Japan. It’s only a few hours away.”

He looks down at his shoes, and for a moment, there’s a boyishness to his face that makes your heart skip. “You should kiss me again.” He says, almost casually.

“You’re crazy!” You laugh at him, the exhaustion making it hard to hold a conversation without giggling.

“Are you scared of airplanes? No? Then kiss me again, please.” He pleads, his voice playful.

“No way!” You’re still laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“Just say you think I’m a bad kisser, it’s okay, I won’t get offended.” He’s trying to joke, to lighten the mood, but there’s something else there too – something almost vulnerable.

“I would never. I never thought that of you, you know that.”

“So you enjoyed kissing me?” He asks, his tone teasing but his eyes serious.

“Well, yes…”

“Then do it again.”

“Are you crazy? You’re leaving in a week. What are you asking me?”

He shakes his head, a little exasperated, but still smiling. “It’s Spain,” He repeats, stretching out the word as if to emphasize how close it is. “Not the end of the world.”

You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious or just messing with you. The way he’s looking at you, though, you realize he’s not entirely joking. There’s something real in his eyes, something that makes your heart flutter despite yourself.

Before you can overthink it, before you can talk yourself out of it, you find yourself closing the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that’s both tender and intense.

When his driver arrives the two of you have been kissing for a while. His hands are warm on your skin, his touch both familiar and electric, sending shivers down your spine. You’ve forgotten about everything else.

The soft cough of his driver clearing his throat brings you back to reality, but even then, you’re reluctant to let go. You pull back slightly, your lips tingling from the contact, but you keep your forehead resting against his, your breaths mingling in the cool night air.

“We should… we should probably go.” You murmur, but your voice lacks conviction.

“Yeah.” He agrees, but neither of you makes a move to step away.

For a few more seconds, you linger, savoring the warmth of his body against yours, the way his fingers gently brush your cheek.

Finally, with a soft sigh, you both pull apart. As you slide into the backseat, you decide – almost defiantly – that you’ll worry about the aftermath of this decision tomorrow. As the car pulls away, you glance at him one more time, and he gives you a small, knowing smile, as if he’s thinking the exact same thing.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #football fanfic #kylian x reader #kylian x you

114 notes · View notes

hazeracha · 9 months ago

Text

• // Back to normal // •

pairing // seungmin x reader

summary // seungmin was never good at sharing how he feels but when he needs you, you will always be there for him.

warning // blonde seungmin ( yes that’s a warning ), fluff, crying

wc: 1.3k

A/N this kim seungmin literally has me in a chokehold <3

You had just finished work and threw your bag onto the couch. You put on some comfy clothes consisting of a pair of joggies and your boyfriend's hoodie, that you're pretty sure he forgot you had. Settling down on the couch you pulled your laptop from your bag to finish sending off some emails.

Seungmo 🐶 : How was work?

A notification appeared on your phone, and a large smile appeared on your face. You hadn’t received a message from him in a couple of days, which was nothing out of the ordinary as you knew his schedule was packed.

Y/N : Yeah it was fine, I just got home and I’m sending off some emails.

I’ll probably go to bed soon, how was your day minnie?

Seungmo 🐶 : Fine…

Y/N : Just fine?

no complaints about how loud Changbin was being…

or how clingy Chan was?

or even something about how good your vocal lesson was?

Seungmo 🐶 : no I spent today practising on my own…

and my vocal lesson was horrible, I couldn’t hit any notes my teacher was giving me.

so no, none of that today.

sorry do disappoint Y/N.

Y/N : Minnie, I’m coming over. I’ll be there in 15 mins.

Seungmo 🐶 : please come quick, I don’t want to be alone.

You ran out of your door grabbing your car keys on the way out and headed towards the boy's dorm.

Once you arrived you immediately made your way to his room. The lights were off and you could just make out his figure, he was sitting in the corner of the room on his bed. Flipping on the light switch you were met with two bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

His body jolted as the light switched on, and as soon as your eyes met he jumped off the bed and into your arms. His body shook as he cried into your chest. You rubbed small circles on his back feeling the soft fabric of the jumper he was wearing under your fingertips. You slowly let your hand run up his back and stop at the damp strands of hair that rested on the back of his neck, stroking the soft strands at the back of his head.

“Baby your hairs still wet?” You spoke as you kissed the top of his head.

“I know I went for a shower and then I just - I don’t know. I - I was thinking too much and I just broke down” he spoke in between muffled sobs.

You took his hands in yours and led him over to the bed. Once you had lay down you opened your arms inviting Seungmin into your warm and comforting embrace. He crawled in between your legs and buried his head into your stomach. His hands found comfort under his your jumper and he gripped your waist tightly. His grip was so strong that you're pretty sure there would be bruises left there tomorrow morning.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

His head shook against your stomach, soft sniffles could still be heard but he was now a lot calmer than when you first found him. He lifted his head slowly to look at you and gave you a small and weak smile. It was his way of trying to reassure you that he was okay, even if he didn’t want to talk about it. Placing one finger under his chin you pulled him closer to you, leaning in a stealing a kiss from his soft lips.

“I’m sorry, I’m such a mess right now” he quickly rambled as he sat up from between your legs. “Oh Baby, I’m so sorry I got your jumper wet” he continued as he looked down at the jumper you were wearing. You didn’t know if it was from his damp hair, his tears or a mixture of both.

“Don’t apologise, please never apologise for being upset or letting out your emotions. Plus it's your jumper anyways so you should really be apologising to yourself.”

“I knew that jumper looked familiar” he laughed.

“I missed that smile” you said cupping his face with your hands and wiping his round cheeks with your thumbs to get rid of the tears that stained his face. “Now come on, let me dry your hair.”

You stood in front of the small desk that was positioned in front of his window, waiting for Seungmin to sit down on the chair. You stood in front of Seungmin with your body in between his legs and started to dry his hair.

You loved his long hair, the way it framed his face and how the dirty blonde complimented his olive-toned skin perfectly, and let's not forget to mention how his long hair provided you with one more thing to grip onto when he was fu-

“Baby? Can we go straight to bed after this? I’m tired and the way you're running your hands through my hair right now is making me even more sleepy.”

“Of course Minnie, I’m nearly finished” you replied.

As you were finishing up drying his hair Seungmin had a firm grip on your thighs. His hands ran up and down as well as his thumbs drawing small circles. At one point he even began kneading the back of your thighs through your joggies just below your ass. You knew it was his way of distracting himself from his thoughts. But you just couldn’t stop the shiver that ran up your spine or the way it made your heart beat out of your chest.

“Okay, you're done. Go and get ready for bed and we can cuddle.”

He stood up from the chair letting his hand hover on your waist as he let his hand trail from your back to your stomach as he moved past you to go to the bathroom.

After a few minutes, he came back into his room with a hoodie in his arms. He handed it to you so that you could change, and get rid of the damp material that clung to your skin. You both got into his bed and he cuddled you once again. Seungmin lay behind you with one arm laid straight out for your head to rest on and the other draped over your waist. One of his large hands rested on your stomach as he pressed a kiss to your neck that was exposed from the collar of the hoodie.

You played with his fingers and lightly trailed your index finger along the veins on his arm that were sticking out slightly probably due to the warmth of his room.

“I’ve taken the day off work tomorrow so I can come with you to practice.”

“What! When did you do that? You don’t have any clothes with you.”

“I did it when you went to the bathroom, I want to spend the day with you. Plus that guy I told you about at work pissed me off today and I really do not want to deal with him tomorrow and I’m sure you won’t mind letting me borrow your clothes.”

“I swear if he ever comes near you when I’m there I’m going to kick him so hard that it will end his future bloodline,” he huffed as his voice raised in volume the more angry he got. “But of course sweetheart, I love it when you wear my clothes,” he spoke this time his voice a lot calmer.

You laughed at his comment and the change in his tone as you held his hand and kissed the back of it. Your Seungmin was definitely back to normal and was behaving like his normal mischievous but endearing self. You were happy that you were able to help him in his times of need and that he knew you were someone he could lean on.

Finally, you closed your eyes you fell asleep to the quiet breathing of your boyfriend in his warm and loving embrace.

266 notes · View notes

gojoath · 6 months ago

Text

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ YOU SAID FOREVER, OKKOTSU YŪTA

yūta’s never been one to back down easily. especially not after you told him you’d be together forever. soulmates. you can’t expect him to just let you go.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. ex-boyfriend yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. dubcon. exhibitonism. dry humping / grinding. breath play - he puts his hand over your mouth. alcohol mention. previous fwb mention (not yūta). aged up characters. wc, 4.9k.

note. repost, the first yandere yūta fic i posted :)

this was not your preferred way to get over a failed relationship.

you grumble to yourself as you rest in the kitchen of the party your friend maki dragged you to— you know she meant well, opting to get you out of the house rather than letting you sit alone feeling sorry for yourself. but honestly, at this point you don’t know what you’d prefer.

the atmosphere in here is buzzing, full of intoxicated bodies with red plastic cups in their hands and loud music blasting through the halls of the house. the liquid in your own cup is a little questionably coloured— something maki had mixed, although bartending was never her strong suit— but you still grit your teeth before bringing it up to your lips and knocking it back anyway.

the concoction hits your taste buds immediately and you try not to gag as you swallow it quickly— feeling the burn set fire to your throat. you cringe at the drink, but honestly you need to loosen up somehow.

it’s not that you were heartbroken over your situationship, he had simply been something to pass the time. he was handsome enough, a good fuck and a decent guy— he helped you forget, which was really the main focus and reason behind spending so much time in his presence. but you still think it’s annoying that he just disappeared without a trace, not even shooting a quick text like hey, thanks for sucking my dick so many times, it’s been fun.

you find yourself rolling your eyes again, before you’re pulling your phone out of your back pocket to check the notifications, huffing when it comes up empty apart from a few instagram story updates and spam emails.

now you’re alone, you’re only stuck with the memories you try hard to swallow down, they still sting a little— ache across your chest and you find yourself shaking your head side to side like it’ll rid you of them, even just for a few hours.

“hey, quit feeling sorry for yourself! you gonna mope around all night?” you’re thankfully snapped from your own thoughts when maki wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting a fair amount of her weight lean on top of you until you’re both stumbling slightly. but she manages to steady you as she sends you a frown.

“i am not moping.”

“you’re totally moping.” your bestfriend sighs before she takes another swig of the drink that’s currently swaying a little too much in her other hand, and you’re glad that she’s atleast strong enough to keep you both upright despite being the one about to take you down.

“loosen up a bit, relax~ he’s just a guy.” she tries again, but you can’t help the way your body seems to stiffen with her statement, she feels it too,

“it’s not about the guy.” but still you’re quick to reply, brushing it off as you let your eyes roll slowly over the crowd of people shoved around the kitchen island. a lot of them pre-occupying themselves with different things such as raiding the fridge, setting up beer pong and—

“it’s not about that guy, but it’s about a guy.” maki’s words are matter a fact and you know she’s right despite the way you wish she wasn’t. it’s not about your failed situationship but the one that came before that, the one you’re trying to forget. you shoot your bestfriend a glare, and she pulls her arm back from its place over you before she’s squeezing at your shoulder, sending you a reassuring grin as she backs off.

“gotcha, let me grab you another drink. stay put.” she knows you better than anyone.

it only takes a few minutes before you begin to finally feel the affects of your last drink, you’re not quite where you want to be yet but you feel a little hazy— a little softer as you let yourself float around the room in your own blissful trance.

although you can’t help but feel like someone’s eyes are on you, feeling goosebumps burst along your skin every so often— like when you almost bump into someone or you’re helped by a stranger when you stumble. their hands will be on your skin to steady you but your gut is screaming for you to look over your shoulder, but there’s never anyone there when you do— not paying enough attention to you atleast.

maybe the alcohol is just making you paranoid.

you find yourself fading in and out of conversations, not really absorbing any information as you sway from your place between panda and inumaki. they’re talking about something you can barely make out, a little too enthusiastically as your eyes scan the room again— wondering where the hell maki is with your other drink.

inumaki moves slightly, waving at someone from across the room and you can’t help the way your gaze follows the movement— blinking slowly until you feel something twist in your gut. you catch a glance at a familiar looking figure, hair pushed back into a relaxed sort of style and a gaze that feels like it cuts through you.

it can’t be, right?

you don’t cast it a second glance to check when it makes you stumble back, because you already find yourself pushing your way out of the room as it suddenly becomes a little harder to breathe.

it’s warm and stuffy, sweaty bodies cramped together in the hallway but you’re drowsy and most likely hallucinatingat this point, atleast that’s what you’ve convinced yourself as you round the corner. you’d make your way to the bathroom, but when you see a considerable amount of people already queued up and looking like they’ve been waiting too long already, you opt to push your way into the backyard instead.

you're thankful for the decision, when you finally push your way into the dimly lit garden— sighing when you feel the cool air roll over your shoulders in waves and it has you taking in a deep inhale.

it’s quieter out here, the music is more of a faint sound that only fades even more as you take a few steps deeper onto the grass— letting yourself bask in the glow from the moon and the fresh air. the backyard wasn’t big, it was only littered with a few plant pots and a single bench— there was a corner to the side that led to the gate and the back entrance to the house, and plot of grass in the middle.

but it was small enough for people to very rarely want to come out here, especially at a party and you’re pretty sure the smokers have opted for out the front when you hear the faint chatter of voices over the fence.

you like this though. another slow breeze pushes through you and despite the haze of your mind, you let your head fall back as you sway with it, letting your eyes rest closed. you almost forget about the whole reason you were seeking the outdoors in the first place,

almost, because it’s only a few beats later when your peaceful alone time is interrupted by the soft sound of the back door closing behind you. your eyes are suddenly wide open despite the way you don’t dare to look behind you just yet.

you find yourself listening, intently— hoping that maybe it was just that same breeze that was to blame for it. maybe some drunk party-goer stumbled into it and didn’t realise you were out here, it was dark after all. yeah, you were just being paranoid. so you let yourself exhale the breath you didn’t even realise you were holding before you perk up and go to turn again.

“you’ve been avoiding me.” the words are low, but they take a soft sort of lull that makes your movements halt mid turn. your eyes are wide and something familiar to a shiver seems to race it’s way down your spine before you’re easing your head in the direction of the sound.

“you know why that is, okkotsu.” your words come out a little harsher than you intend them to, and you watch the way your ex boyfriend picks up on that too as he shuffles on his feet. his brows furrow and he bites on the inside of his cheek as he looks away from your gaze.

okkotsu yuuta was your ex boyfriend and the reason you were even in that stupid situationship in the first place. he was overbearing and protective, to the point where you couldn’t even go on a study date with a classmate without him bumping into your boyfriend in the library and suddenly they’re requesting a new project partner. everyplace you ever went to without him, he always seemed to end up there anyway.

although if you asked him, he would deny that you guys were broken up in the first place. he would always rather say that you just needed some space, you just needed a little time to relax but you’ll come back to him because you said you were soulmates afterall. why wouldn’t you?

which is why, yes you’d been trying to avoid yuuta— tryingbecause he always still managed to find his way to every, single party you attended anyway, insisting that he was there for you, because he’s your date. you’d been avoiding this confrontation since the last one, and the one before that. you’d changed your phone number, but he knew your schedule, he knew the places you visited on your days off and the places he could find you because he knew you.

“baby, please don’t call me that.” his voice is tender as he takes a careful step into your space but he stops immediately when you meet him with a step back.

“i thought you’d be happy to see me. i’m here for you.” yuuta speaks again but he emphasises the way he says it’s all for you. like you’re making him act this way, it’s yourfault. you take another step away from him as you frown, opting to walk around the side of the house as you head towards the gate— you weren’t doing this right now. not tonight when you don’t have a clear mind.

you hear him call out a don’t leave as you retreat away from him, but it was always unnerving how quickly he seemed to move— feeling his hand wrap tightly around your wrist before your back is almost slammed against the brick wall of the house and he’s looming over you.

you hiss at the slight, sharp sting of pain you feel up your body at the impact and you hear yuuta gasp at the sound before his hands are reaching over you with a “sorry. i didn’t want you to leave me again.” but you’re quick to slap away his other hand when it reaches for your face aswell, earning you a pitiful, puppy eyed look.

“i’m not doing this tonight.” you try to argue, trying to shake his grip off your wrist but it’s tight, and you feel suddenly too warm underneath his stare as his lidded gaze crawls over your features. he leans into you, his free arm that’s now just resting in the air between you opting to rest against the wall instead as he keeps you caged beneath him. he’s close enough for you to smell the faint, familiar scent of his cologne.

“is it because of that guy?” yuuta asks, softly, like he’s sympathising with you— like it’s a touchy topic that he doesn’t want to bring up but it’s a question that fills you with unease when you finally find it in yourself to lift your eyes to meet his.

“what?” your words come out slowly, hesitantly and the dark haired male over you looks away as your gaze narrows, “how do you know about that?”

“hey, it’s fine. i don’t blame you.” a soft reply, like a lover consoling another— like he’s about to wrap you in his embrace and keep you there, but the smile he’s wearing is a little too happy for the subject. his eyes close with the close lipped grin as his hand squeezes around your wrist. like a reassurance— a reminder that he’s got you there. you can’t go anywhere else.

“you’re safe now. i got rid of him, we can be together again.” yuuta hums, like he’s being careful with his words— although he can still hear the way your breathing picks up. maybe if he leaned in a little closer he’d be able to hear your heartbeat, he wonders if it beats for only him. would you let him have it if he asked? he lets his hand against the wall fall slightly, resting on your arm as he strokes at the skin but the stare you’re giving him now is cold as he tries to soothe you with his touch.

“it was you?” your words are deliberately harsher now, sharper as you try to pull yourself from his touch but despite his appearance he was stronger than you’d expect. he doesn’t have any trouble holding you there as he tries to shush you, casting a few quick looks over to the gate to make sure you’ve not caught the attention of the people on the other end. it’s quieter now than it was when you first came out.

“he was in the way of our love.” this was okkotsu yuuta. he still remembers how upset he felt seeing you with that other guy, laughing and smiling so prettily when it’s only supposed to be for him. it was your fault. it wasn’t hard, he didn’t have to hurt him too much before he decided to give you up— to give you back, you deserve someone better than that. someone who would give up his life to keep you, and you have him for that already. you don’t need anyoneelse.

although he still had to teach him the consequences of touching what’s his. he’d do it as many times as he had to. they don’t stand a chance against him.

“i’m all yours remember. all of me. that means you belong to me too, doesn’t it? we’ll be together forever.” it’s unnerving how honest yuuta’s words sound, there’s no waver to them and his dark, lidded gaze is sharp as it holds yours. “you promised.” he brings your hand up to his cheek as he presses your fingertips into his skin, leaning into the touch but your fingers don’t stroke softly like they usually do. they’re rigged, stiff while your hand falls limp in his hold. you stare at him, and it makes him shift uncomfortably opposite you as he takes a loud swallow.

you can’t deny you feel scared, bile turning in your gut as you begin to blink a little more with your exhales but he picks up on that.

“i missed you.” yuuta tries again as his hands squeeze at your skin— his fingers around your wrist loosen slightly, but only so he can try to intertwine them with your own. he presses his chest into yours, pushing you harder against the brick behind you and you try to push yourself back against him as you huff.

“yuuta, stop it! are you crazy?” you try to argue because you’re mad at him, try to push against his chest but you can already feel the way his lips are grazing along your jawline, nibbling at the skin. his fingertips cold as they push underneath the hem of your shirt to touch your bare skin.

“sorry, it’s been so.. so long.” you shudder as yuuta breathes his words along the nerves in your neck next, fidgeting beneath him as he knocks your legs apart with one of his— pressing his hips into the space that’s left behind after, before they’re grinding into yours.

you’re breathing deep but yuuta’s panting into you like a dog as he ruts you into the brick behind you, it almost hurts with how it grazes along the bare skin he reveals. his hands are everywhere and you feel too hot for your skin, feeling the same bile rise in your throat as your eyes squeeze closed.

“please.” he gasps again, but the soft, pathetic little plea is cut off by the slam of the back door as you watch it illuminate the light around the corner. you feel the tension in your shoulders relax as you hear maki call for you, seeing what you would assume is her shadow fall out of the doorway a few moments later. it’s almost too eager, the way your arm shakes free to reach out, just as your mouth drops open to call back.

but just as your lips part, you feel the hard press of yuuta’s palm across your mouth— so fast and precise it almost knocks the air out of you as your head whips towards him.

“please. don’t.” he grits and you’re pretty sure if his hips weren’t pressing you into the wall right now your legs would’ve buckled entirely with the way they’re trembling. there was a few instances where he got like this, it was like a switch flipped and some dark aura that he kept wrapped away inside of him pushed its way to the surface. his lidded gaze feels like it cuts through you and you can barely breathe with how tight his grip on your mouth is as the veins in his hands bulge.

you feel yuuta press into you again, and you can feel how hard he is through the fabric of his slacks— accompanied by the flush of his cheeks as he suddenly avoids your gaze. he trembles over you, quietly grazing the blunt head of his cock between your legs but your eyes are still on the shadow of your bestfriend as she calls out another time.

your fingertips tremble as they reach out but your ex-boyfriend is quick to take them back in his own before you let them drop by your side again. your vision blurs with tears as you hear maki spit out a slurred curse before stomping back into the house, slamming the door closed just as loudly again before you’re wrapped back up in the shadows like you were before.

you feel lightheaded as yuuta’s fingers dip almost painfully into your skin, accompanied by the way you’re only left to breathe out of your nose right now because his palm is still tight over your lips. you try to speak, but it’s lost behind his grip and he’s so flushed and needy, he can barely hear you as he rolls his hips into yours once more— pulling a soft, dreamy whine from his lips that you cant deny makes something twist in your gut.

“i’m.. im sorry, ive just missed you.” he shivers over you as his thighs tremble at the feeling of your hips sliding along his. the look he gives you is lidded and dazed, clouded with lust as he pulls your hips up towards him, and you can’t help the whimper that would slip from your lips as he angles himself against your clit. you’re suddenly thankful that the sound goes lost behind his palm instead.

it’s insane the way yuuta moves you, dragging you along his own body as he takes control of you— making your body clap almost painfully against the wall behind you both. but you can’t deny how pretty he looks with his lower lip sucked between his teeth, his dark bangs falling slightly over his gaze as he blinks up at you.

his movements are messy and eager, like he’s trying to prove how much he’s missed you— how much he’s lovesyou in his movements. like all of those threats were acceptable, he really was just looking out for you and with every graze of his shaft along your clothed clit you consider forgetting about them entirely.

you did love him afterall, the chemistry was there— it’s evident in the way the feeling of yuuta’s body against yours is making the space where you both take a breath spin. maybe that’s why you’d been avoiding him, because you know you’d go crawling back as soon as you felt his touch, as soon as you heard his soft pants fall from his lips. that’s the reason, right?

your mind and willpower melting away with every quick shockwave of pleasure his thrusts send through you.

“shhhh, i know what you need. i always do, i’ve got you.” his lips trail spit along your cheeks as he drools against you, whimpering against your skin and it’s almost instinct the way your arms finally relax— instead easing their way to his chest to twist at the fabric of his shirt.

yuuta gives you a look as he inspects you, slowing down his needy grinds to a slow, seamless crawl— like he’s making sure you’re not trying to trick him before he finally releases his palm from your mouth. your lips part as you take a much needed breath, but your gaze is lidded and blown when it meets his, and suddenly his palms are resting on your cheeks as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“b-baby,” he gasps as he grabs at you, tongue pressing past the seal of your lips to graze against your own— messy and lewd, like a sweet little welcome home as his hips ruthlessly rut into yours. the push of your mouth makes him whine, his palms clammy against your skin as he drinks up every sinful swirl of your hips you offer him.

you’ve become so lost in your pleasure, your fingers move to twist in his hair and you feel yuuta moan softly at the sting before his jaw tightens. his hips continuing to move in sync with yours as a low, slurred praise pours from his lips like honey. he feels so lost in the familiar, silky grind of your clothed pussy. “feel—feels so good.”

“all mine.” follows after before he curses under his breath and you can barely hear him with the ringing in your ears. he’s rutting into you almost too desperately, you can almost feel every detail of his cock through the thin fabric separating you both as he mumbles messily against your lips, insanity intertwining with his lust. “you belong to me.”

“yuuta~ah!” you moan, so prettily that it makes yuuta’s pace stutter before he’s grabbing at your thigh to hike it up higher, to perfect the angle so you can feel him rub right between your clothed folds. he can almost feel you, his mind swirling with the thought of finally sinking into your warm pussy again— finally claiming back what’s his after you kept it from him for so long.

“i love you.” his mind and senses blur as he pushes love confessions between your lips, promises and threats that go unheard as you lose yourself in the pleasure between your thighs. “don’t leave me again. i won’t let you.” he gasps again, and you know he’s close when he pulls away to nuzzle into the crook of your neck.

the press of your panties against you feels damp and if it wasn’t for yuuta holding you upright you’d have collapsed entirely as you hold onto him for stability. your breathing is ragged but you’re just as fucked out as he is, trying to meet each of his needy thrusts with mindless little humps of your own as you both near your orgasms.

“t-tell me, please.” your ex boyfriend trembles as your body claps against his, desperate hands clawing at your bare skin as you feel the shaft of his cock throb against you— begging just as much as he is with every breathless plea he buries into your throat. “please, i need it. i’m gonna—“

“i love you, yuuta.” you moan, it’s whispery and choked off just as he angles his hips exactly where you need him too, and it’s enough to have yuuta curling over you as the words ring true in his ears. it’s instantaneous the way his orgasm feels like it rips through him, his hips jerking and twitching into you as he babbles out slurred and whimpered thank yous, and his fingernails dig so tight into your skin you’re sure they’ll bruise.

he continues to roll his hips into yours, prolonging his blissful state because you’re whimpering his name, grabbing at him as you chase your own high— grinding into the mess he’s made in his pants and it only takes a few more presses onto your puffy clit before you’re going rigid.

your lips part, but yuuta’s quick to meet them with his own as he swallows up your moans— keeping them for himself as he holds you steady through your orgasm. your high hits you so hard and good your toes almost ache with how tight they curl, insides begging to be filled as you pull at the man infront of you’s dark roots and he whines into your mouth.

it’s greedy, the way you both ride out your highs until you’re a mess of limbs and agonised moans. your kiss is prolonged until it’s lewd and messy, pulling away with a string of drool despite the way your still ex boyfriends grip is as tight on you as it was when you started. he won’t let you get away from him again.

although with your dwindling pleasure and lust, you realise the weight of what you just did when you feel yuuta’s eyes on you— gazing down at you all fatuous and adoring. you clear your throat slightly as you try to move, feeling the ache in your spine from where you’ve been pressed against the hard surface but he’s quick to let his hands graze up the skin— smoothing out the area like it’ll help at all.

although the touch makes you shudder more than anything.

“i have to go change. let’s go.” yuuta mumbles softly before his hand is intertwining with yours again, and you’re so aware of how tight his hold on you is that you know you’d have no chance to shrug him off. your lips part again, like you’re going to object and he looks at you— something a little dark twisting in his expression and it’s enough for you to suddenly forget how to speak.

another beat and he leans into press a kiss to your forehead, a whisper of a smile on his features before he’s pressing another to your lips after and sending you a soft, kind smile.

“i won’t let you leave me again.” and the confession makes your body betray you— maybe as a means of survival as you take a step in his direction on shaky legs to follow behind him,

“okay.”

love was like a curse afterall.

#cw yandere #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #okkotsu yuta smut #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #yuuta smut #yuuta x reader #cw dubcon

367 notes · View notes

selfloverrrrrr · 4 months ago

Note

Helloooo... so i was thinking of like a request of Gojo and Geto getting mad because of what the reader was doing in public and like they both have sex w/ each other so like a threesome pls!

(I CANT THINK STRAIGHT FU-)

Play hard...?

Warning: Smut, unprotected Sex, rough sex, teasing, anal sex, nipple play, blow job, threesom....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

It's tough to find a perfect job. Especially when my college is going on. I'm a college student. And I'm not financially rich... and I really need to find a job. And I'm applying for some jobs too.

One day I was looking at my laptop for a job thing. "What you doing, babygirl" a voice came from nowhere. I looked. It was Gojo. "Gojo can you just stop calling me that?!" I said. "Oh but you liked it last night" he said with a smirk. "😑 We never did anything" I said. "Yeah I know but if I say it loud everyone will think we did" Gojo whispered. "What are you two doing?" A voice came. We looked at it. And it was Geto. "No....not both of you together right now" I sighed. "But you said you like threesom when it's me and Suguru " Gojo said with a smirk. I glared at him. "What kind of fun do you get spreading misinformation?" I asked. "That you'll maybe make the misinformation true " Gojo said. "Maybe?.... definitely " this time Geto said smirking.

"God I can't with you two!" I sighed. "Heyyy... sorry I'm late... what are you all doing?" Shoko asked. "I'm doing some serious work and this two dumbs trying to make me angry " I replied. "Why?... What did they do?" Shoko asked. "Nothing...was trying to impress her to have threesom with us" Geto said wrapping an arm around Gojo's shoulder. "Ewwwww" Shoko said and I laughed at the comment. Gojo and Geto both gave a 😑 reaction. "Tf do you mean eww?!" Gojo asked.

"That she won't have threesom with you two...so go and fuck each other" Shoko said. "We do" Geto replied. "We all know! What she meant by saying that is stop disturbing me! Idiot" I said laughing. "Idiot? Ok I take it as a pet name" Gojo said. "What are you doing anyways?" Geto asked. "What else? Some work to get a job" I said. "You don't need to work that hard to get a job.... I'll give you my entire bank account" Gojo said. "No I don't want to work like a whore " I said. "Oh come on... you're gonna marry us...that won't be a whore!" Geto said. "Anyways don't listen to them.... did you get any job?" Shoko asked. "Not yet but there's this small company of naobito zenin...I think I'm gonna get a job on this company..... they said they're impressed by my interview " I replied. "OMG that's great.... I'm happy for you " Shoko said. I thanked her with a laugh.

Few days passed. It was an evening. I was getting ready cause me and Shoko decided to go to the bar today. I wore a short black dress. I was touching up my make up when my phone rang. I saw it was an unknown number. I picked up the call. "Hello?" I answered. "Hello ma'am I'm talking from noabito company...are you miss y/n?" a man said from the other side. "Oh yes yes... I'm y/n" I said. "Ma'am your job is confirmed. We liked your interview we're going to send you an email in a minute... you just have fill up that...are you interested in this job?" The man asked. I became so much happy. "Yes yes... I'm interested!!!" I said. We talked a bit then end the call.

I was too excited that I finally got the job! I quickly opened my laptop and a email popped up. I opened it. It was from the job. But the strange thing is.... that company was noabito zenin's. But instead of Zenin there was written Gojo. Tf?! I got shocked. When I scrolled down I saw in the CEO's name there was supposed to be noabito zenin but instead there was written.... CEO of this company - Gojo Satoru. My eyes widened. It didn't take much time to understand that Gojo brought this company. He heard I applied in this company that day. I clenched my fist. My blood was boiling. I quickly filled up that form and send it to the company.

I run out of my room and locked the door. Then I run towards Gojo's room. I knocked on the door. Geto opened the door. "Where's Gojo?" I asked. "Inside...why?" He replied. I didn't say anything and went inside the room. I saw Gojo standing in the next room scrolling through his phone in his hand. He looked at me when he heard me enter. "Y/n.... what are you doing here? Did you agreed to have threesom wit-" before he could complete his sentence I slapped him. His face turned to the side from the slap. The whole room became silent. "Tf is wrong with you?! Why don't you fucking leave me alone????!!!!!" I said with grinded teeth.

"What the!!!! What happened?!" Geto said from behind me. "Satoru??? What happened?!" Geto asked again. "Do I look like I know what happened?!" Gojo said glaring at me. "You bought the company because you heard me that day in college, didn't you?" I asked looking at Gojo. "Oh Satoru you didn't tell me you bought that" Geto said. "Oh so you were also in his plan!" I said looking at Geto. "Yes I was" he replied. "Tf do you two think of me huh? A whore or something???!!!.... I'm late I've to go to the bar with Shoko that's why I'm leaving right now... I'm gonna talk about this again!" I said and went out of their room.

Me and Shoko headed to the bar. I didn't tell her anything cause I don't wanna ruin the night. I put a smile on my face and went with her. We were enjoying the bar. Dancing, drinking, enjoying. Some time later a male appear next to us. "Hey Shoko" the male said. We looked at him. It was Haibara. He's Shoko's boyfriend. "Oh hey... you here?" Shoko asked. "Yeah heard you're here so thought to come too" Haibara replied. "You missed me?" Shoko teased. "More than missed you.... come with me, please" Haibara said. "Uh...but" Shoko said and looked at me. "It's okey Shoko.... go enjoy!!" I said with a smile. She smiled back. "Ok...see you later then" Shoko replied and went with Haibara.

I was sitting there and having some more drinks. Suddenly a male sit next to me. I looked at him. He was smirking at me. "Hello ~" he said. "Hey" I replied. "What are you doing alone" he asked. "Actually I was with my friend... but she got busy" I replied. "You're looking sexy" he said and his eyes trailed over my body. "Oh?" I replied. "Yeah... that colour suits you so much" he said leaning against the counter. "Well....Thank you" I replied. "So? What plans do you have for tonight?" He asked with a smirk. I was about to reply when I heard someone's voice from my behind.

"Heyyy.." the voice said. I turned my head to see Geto standing behind me. "What are you doing?" He asked. He was standing so close to me. I could feel his breath on my shoulder. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked. "Our choice" another voice said. It was Gojo. I rolled my eyes. "Suguru asked you something" Gojo said. "Can't you see??? I'm talking with someone" I replied rudely and turned my head towards that guy. Gojo's and Geto's eyes drifted to that guy too.

"we're talking with you" Gojo said. "And I'm ignoring you" Gojo pinned me to the wall next to me. "Lower your voice.... I'm the owner of the company you work for " Gojo said. "Satoru you don't have to be hard on her " Geto said. Gojo was too serious. He was staring deep into my eyes. I've never seen him this serious. "Come with us" geto said. "No I replied" I replied. "No? Gonna kill every man you gonna talk... and you know we're capable of that" Gojo said tilting his head to a side. I stared at him. Then? They dragged me out of the bar.

Then there was I, in their room, on my fours. All of our clothes were on the floor. Gojo thrusting his dick in my mouth and Geto in my pussy from back. I squeezed my eyes. Tears flowing down. Because both of them were too much big. My mouth was wide open. Gojo's dick inside my mouth taking the whole length in slowly. It was too big. Gojo's breath hitched. He threw his head back mouth wide open. He grabbed my hair telling me to suck hard. I slowly sucked his dick and his legs shook. He bobbed my head up and down. His tip was poking the back of my throat. He grabbed my hair and started bobbing my head up and down faster. "Oh god...oh god.... don't...ahhhh... don't stop!!!!" Gojo moaned out loudly. He was bobbing my head up and down faster and faster. He suddenly felt that Gojo was close. In a few minutes he came inside my mouth. He grabbed my chin "Swallow it y/n" Gojo said looking at me. I swallowed his cum.

On the other hand Geto was thrusting too. He was slamming his whole dick inside me. I moaned. My legs were shaking with pleasure. And he was liking it so much. His thurst became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight, this pussy might be the death of me!!!" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I squeezed the bedsheet to control myself. With a few more thurst I came. He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. "You're ready for the round two..huh?" Gojo whispered in my ear and I blushed and I was breathless.

Both of them crashed their mouth on my each breast. Sucking, biting, licking harshly. I moaned and grabbed on each of their hair. They were so rough on my breasts.

They licked my belly and each of them squeezed each of my breast. I grabbed sheet and squeezed my eyes shut. "Uhhah..... eyes on us princess" Geto said and I did. They bite on my nipple. "P-Please" I moaned. " Please what baby?" Gojo asked. " Please fuck me already!!!" I moaned out. "Good girl, now you're begging for it, huh?" Gojo whispered.

Gojo threw himself on the bed and said " you're gonna ride me, baby" I get on him and sit on his dick slowly. The pain was too much. I almost screamed. " Shh... it's okey it's okey....take your time" they said. After I adjust the size I nooded and Geto went behind and put his dick inside me in anal position. Then I started riding Gojo and Geto started thursting in and out. Three of us were moaning mess. Gojo's one hand grabbed the bedsheet and another grabbed one of my breast. On other side Geto's one hand grabbed my waist and another one grabbed my another breast.

Time passed. Their Thursting became faster, rougher and harder. Sound of my screaming, our moaning, skin slapping filled the whole room. I felt their dicks twitch inside me. Then I came again. Came allover Gojo's dick. With a few more thurst both of them came again. We all flipped on the bed panting.

"Look.... told you a long ago... it's not like whore we're not gonna make you a whore!" Geto said. "More importantly.... told you....you gonna be begging for more end of the night" Gojo said with a smirk. I looked away from them with a red face.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

134 notes · View notes

starlightkun · 10 months ago

Text

➠ word count: 4.6k ➠ warnings: cursing, vomiting, depictions of illness, hospital settings, etc. (but he gets better! i prommy!) ➠ genre: fluff, a touch of hurt/comfort, suggestive? (i mean they’re mentioned to shower together but it’s in a very tender caretaking sort of way, it's a ‘you cannot perform this task of hygiene and i love you and will assist you in performing this vital task’ sort of thing), established relationship, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), shortfic in the buzzer beater series (after 27JSC, before garbage goal) ➠ extra info: the title is directly lifted from the title of this academic article on pubmed that came up in some googling i was doing for this fic the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i did NOT expect this to turn into a literal series but these two have rlly captured my lil heart tbh. i’m obsessed with them. they’re in love. i’m not sorry and i will not pretend to be in order to be cute on the internet. anyway enjoy 🫶 ➠ series masterlist

The utter relief that you felt having Sungchan home again was a feeling unparalleled. Having him home, in his own clothes, in your bed, holding you and laughing at something stupid he’d just said but thought was the funniest thing ever—that was the most you’d ever loved someone, you decided.

Stirring slightly in the middle of the night, you were aware of being uncomfortable, hot, and sweaty under all your sheets, blankets, and boyfriend.

“Mmh,” you groaned, pushing at Sungchan, who was of course passed out on top of you like you were the mattress. “Channie, off. ‘m too hot.”

He readjusted slightly, but just grabbed you to pull you to his front like the cuddle monster he was. You were now acutely aware of your clothes sticking to your back and chest.

“No, let go.” You grabbed at his arms. “Come on, Channie, aren’t you hot too?”

He suddenly vaulted himself out of bed, throwing the sheets and blankets off of him in a mad dash towards the bathroom. You sat up in bed, blearily watching him in confusion until he kneeled down at the toilet and you finally put the pieces together, hurrying in after him and turning on the light on your way in.

He didn’t have any hair to hold back from his face as he emptied his stomach, so you mainly rubbed his back through his damp t-shirt. With the bathroom lights on, you were able to see that the front and back of his white shirt were entirely soaked with sweat, his face pink and sweat-sheened, and his hair stuck to his forehead. His whole body radiated with an unnatural heat as you sat beside him, coaching and comforting him through it as he gripped the toilet bowl with white knuckles.

When it seemed like he had gotten to a pause in his retching, you coaxed his head up away from the opening, then flushed it. Grabbing some toilet paper from the roll hanging next to you, you bundled up enough to wipe around his mouth and nose, then tossed that into the bowl as well as the water was still draining.

“We…” He stopped to cough, then spit into the toilet. “We ate the same stuff last night… Why aren’t you…”

“Baby, I don’t think this is food poisoning,” you replied, moving his hair off his forehead to press the back of your hand there. “I think you’re sick.”

“But my immune system is so good! I haven’t even gotten a cold in like five years! I got my flu shot two weeks ago!”

“I know, I was there holding your hand.”

His whining was cut off by more puking, and you continued to soothe him through it.

“Channie, you can’t send this.” You shook your head, reading over his email to his research head again.

“But I have to… to tell him why I can’t come in,” Sungchan reached for his phone from your hands.

“Baby, this is gibberish.” You held the phone away from his grabby hands so you could delete the nonsense email and exit out of the app before setting it on his nightstand. “You go back to sleep, I’ll call the lab for you, okay?”

He sighed, laying back down in bed and closing his eyes. “Okay… don’t take too long… miss you…”

“And he’s out,” you commented to yourself fondly.

It was quick work to look up the office line on the university’s website, and you took the call in the living room as he napped in your room. Hearing the click of it being picked up first, it was answered by an older-sounding, stern man.

“Yoon Taekyung.”

“Hi, Dr. Yoon, this is Y/L/N Y/N, I’m—”

“Jung Sungchan’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, yes, Jung Sungchan’s girlfriend.” You laughed nervously, caught off-guard. You’d never met Sungchan’s research head before.

“Jung talks about you a lot. I don’t stalk my PhD candidates online, in case you were wondering.”

“No, I wasn’t, but thank you for clarifying,” you chuckled. “Anyway, I’m sorry to bother you, but unfortunately Sungchan has a stomach bug and is not going to be able to come in for a few days. He had typed up his own email to you but when I proofread it… you could tell the fever was boiling his brain.”

“I would have appreciated the laugh,” Dr. Yoon said dryly. “We certainly don’t want Jung bringing any outside germs into the microbiology lab. Keep him home.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Yoon.”

Having already finished your master’s degree, you didn’t have any professors to email about missing class today. It was a Friday, and you weren’t scheduled to work all weekend, so you were free to stay home and take care of Sungchan.

Walking back into your bedroom, you stopped next to Sungchan’s side of the bed, pressing your hand to his forehead. He really was burning up.

His eyes fluttered open, and he mumbled something that sounded like your name.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here,” you reassured him, stroking his head. “Go back to sleep, I’m going to make you something to eat, okay?”

His eyes closed again, and you gave his head one last gentle pat.

Poking your head back into the bedroom some time later, you were pleasantly surprised to see Sungchan awake again, scrolling on his phone.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” You walked over, grabbing the thermometer off his nightstand.

“Mm… great,” he groaned, setting his phone down.

“Liar.” You held the thermometer out. “Open.”

He pouted up at you with the thermometer sticking out of his mouth as the two of you waited. It beeped, and you took it back, frowning as you read the display.

“I don’t like that…” You sighed, taking a picture of it with your phone. “I’m going to text your mom. How’s your tummy?”

“Fine…”

“You think you can eat? I made some food.”

“Sure, sure, yeah.”

“Okay, be right back, Channie.” You kissed his hair.

In the kitchen, you hurriedly opened your text conversation with Sungchan’s mom. She was a family medicine doctor, and you’d been updating her on how her son was doing throughout the day.

[you: attached image]

[you: his fever keeps going up, even after the meds he took this morning. no more puking so far]

As you spooned out small portions of dishes, loaded them up on a tray, and reheated a mug of some tea you’d prepared earlier, you continued texting back and forth with Dr. Jung.

[dr. jung: Give him another dose of the acetaminophen. If it keeps going up take him to urgent care]

[you: will do, thank you. he’s about to try to eat some lunch. wish us luck!]

[dr. jung: Good luck sweetheart]

Tucking your phone away, you grabbed the tray of food to take back in to Sungchan. He had pushed himself up against the headboard, letting you set the tray down on his lap. Putting the now steaming mug on the nightstand, you started pointing to everything.

“Ginger tea, and easy tummy foods. Some rice, soup, crackers, and for dessert—” You pulled out a small package from the pocket of your hoodie.

He gasped softly. “Chocolate biscuits…”

“Chocolate biscuits,” you confirmed, setting them on the tray table then stroked his hair gently. “I’m going to go clean up the kitchen then I’ll come sit with you. Holler if you need me before then, okay?”

He grabbed your hand before you could get too far, his skin burning hot against yours. “Hey. Thank you.”

“Anything for my Sungchannie,” you smiled, gently swinging your linked hands where they hung in the air. “Small bites, and don’t force anything down, okay? You’ll only throw it back up if you do that.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And how are you on water?” You picked up the water bottle on his nightstand with your free hand, shaking it. “Eh, half. I’ll refill it for you, too. Be back in a sec.”

After putting the leftovers away and refilling his water, you shook out a couple more tablets of acetaminophen and brought both of them back with you.

“Here.” You placed them on the table next to him. “Your mom says to take another dose, and if your fever keeps going up then we’ll have to take you to urgent care.”

He nodded, thankfully opting not to talk with food in his mouth. You scooted back into bed next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he slowly picked at his food.

“Good food, baby, thank you,” he sniffled, taking a sip of his tea. “I mean, my nose is so stuffed up I can’t taste most of it, but it’s still good.”

You chuckled, patting his chest. “Thanks, Channie.”

“Are you sure you should be sitting so close to me? I don’t want to get you sick too.”

“We live together, I’m either going to get sick or I won’t. It’s not like I’m asking you to spit in my mouth or anything,” you scoffed.

“Yeah, right now.”

Before you could even make a retort, he suddenly careened forward in a fit of violent coughs, and you surged to first steady the tray table so he didn’t knock the liquids everywhere. After moving it off his legs and onto an unoccupied area of the mattress, you rested a hand on his back as he continued coughing, wincing sympathetically at how painful they sounded. Finally, he stopped coughing, and paused to catch his breath.

“Mm… I think you should keep your loogies to yourself for now, Channie,” you tutted. “Drink some water.”

Setting his water bottle back down, he blinked slowly. “Ugh… that hurt.”

“Do you want the food back? Or are you done?”

He shook his head. “I’m done. Don’t want anything coming back up.”

“I’ll put it in the fridge in case you get hungry later.”

You had just closed the fridge when you heard retching sounds from your bathroom.

It was almost two hours later before the two of you left the cold tile floor of your bathroom. There were impressions of the grout in your knees and your joints ached from the unforgiving, hard flooring. And it was only to get Sungchan to sit on the equally hard, cold, tile floor of the shower under a lukewarm stream of water—you were afraid of making it too hot with how high his fever already was, and he whimpered like the water was hurting him if it was too cold. With how much fever-sweating he’d been doing since the wee hours of the morning, you could only imagine how uncomfortable it was for him (you yourself still hadn’t had the chance to sneak in a quick shower since being awoken in sweat that morning either). Not even to mention just all the puke that the both of you had been around.

You knelt behind him to very gently work some shampoo through his hair, then tilted his chin up with your hand to direct his head back into the spray and rinse out the suds. You used your other hand to block his eyes from any stray shampoo that may accidentally run down into them. With his hair off his forehead, you could catch a glimpse of a light scar, from taking a puck directly to the face your senior year of college, soon after you started dating. You’d taken care of him then, warned him to be careful when washing his hair, and he’d joked about having you do it for him. You couldn’t help but run a finger over it lightly.

After finishing up washing his hair, you reached behind you to blindly fumble for the handle and turn the spray off. It was a bit dicey getting the two of you to stand up in the confined space with Sungchan’s less-than-optimal coordination at the moment, and you toweled the both of you off in the bathroom quickly.

Back in new clothes, you let him fall into bed as you appraised the nightstand. “Did you take the meds before you threw up? I don’t— Oh, there they are.”

You grabbed them from behind the water bottle, nudging Sungchan’s shoulder. “Baby, you can take a nap after you take these, okay? They’re going to help your fever.”

“Uh?” He squinted one eye open, then dropped his mouth open. You placed the tablets on his tongue, then held the straw up to his lips. He swallowed with minimal difficulty, then dropped his head back down to the pillow.

You crawled into bed too, curling up behind him and throwing an arm over his middle. Sungchan groaned and shifted in place.

“Are you warm?” You asked quietly. “I’ll scooch if you’re too warm.”

“No,” he whined, grabbing at the blankets and pulling them up higher. “Cold… ‘n everything hurts, baby. My head hurts, my throat hurts, my stomach hurts, my muscles hurt from throwing up so much. Everything hurts.”

“My Sungchannie.” You scooted in closer to him, burying your face in his neck. “I’m sorry… I wish it didn’t hurt, baby. I’m so sorry. I wish I could make it stop for you.”

“I’m going to take a nap, I think…” He sniffed.

“I think that’s a good idea.” You kissed his shoulder. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, baby boy.”

“That’s it, we’re going to the urgent care,” you declared with a shake of your head, looking at the most recent temperature readout on the thermometer. Up again.

Despite all of Sungchan’s grumbling about not being that sick, you still managed to get him into the car and to the doctor, keeping a wary eye on him as you took all of your turns very carefully and accelerated and braked as smoothly as possible so that he hopefully wouldn’t vomit all over your car interior as well. After staying in the waiting room for an agonizing amount of time, you two finally went back.

The doctor took one look at Sungchan’s vitals, and you explained just how many times he’d thrown up in less than twelve hours, before deciding to admit him.

You had been asked to step out of his room for the moment, and walked up and down the long hallway, continuing to update his mom.

[you: he just got admitted. doctor says he probably just needs fluids and something stronger to bring the fever down but wants to keep him overnight for observation]

[dr. jung: Who’s his attending?]

[you: dr. chen]

[dr. jung: Oh good. He’s good, our Sungchan’s in good hands. I’ll be by after clinic closes.]

[you: thanks, i’ll let him know you’re coming]

A nurse left Sungchan’s room then, and you perked up as the older man seemed to be walking towards you.

“I’m so sorry, miss, this is going to sound weird,” he began with a sheepish smile. “But has your husband been on TV?”

“Oh, uh, boyfriend…” You corrected him distractedly, way more focused on said boyfriend. “And uhm, not exactly. Why?”

“He just looks very familiar.”

You thought for a second, then suggested, “Do you like hockey?”

“Yes, my wife and I have season passes for the local university’s team’s home games.”

“Sungchan played for the Raptors a couple years ago.”

“Oh! I was wondering why the name was so familiar too…”

“Sorry, did you need something from me?”

“Yes, I need to put his IV in, uhm, but he’s asking for you…”

You nodded. “Yeah, he has a fear of needles. Shouldn’t that be in his chart or whatever somewhere?”

“We just have the records from the urgent care doctor who sent him up here, sorry,” the nurse admitted. “But I’ll make a note of it.”

Following the nurse in, you saw that Sungchan was all by himself, and had to bite your lip at the image of him already hooked up by wires to a bunch of other machines. He still smiled when he saw you, though.

“Hey, baby…” he held his hand out towards you, and you took it, giving it a squeeze.

“Hi. Heard you were asking for me.”

“Thought you might feel left out if I got a needlestick and you weren’t here.”

“Yeah, it’s my favorite hobby, watching you get pricked over and over,” you replied sarcastically.

“Which arm?” The nurse asked.

“The right. He’s a lefty,” you answered immediately.

He looked between you and Sungchan for a moment.

“What she said,” Sungchan confirmed.

As the nurse prepared his arm for the IV, you distracted him on his other side.

“So, I was texting your mom in the hallway,” you told him. “She said she’s going to come by after the clinic closes. She also knows your attending, says you’re in good hands, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, that’s good.” He suddenly squeezed your hand tight.

You rushed to find another topic and keep talking, “Also, I have to tell you about this new book I was reading. Really, it was a collection of short stories, but you know how I am with those. God, it’s incredible. It’s like surrealism, and sort of psychological horror, and some of them toe in body horror, but also magical realism, but all of them sort of explore like womanhood and societal expectations of women and that kind of thing. They’re so fantastic. There’s one about a teenage girl who just starts eating birds one day. Like, live birds, the kind of birds you’d keep as a pet. Feathers and all. She’s not actually the POV character, though, you get to follow her dad as he tries to take in this change and adjust and acclimate to it as his otherwise normal teen daughter has to consume live birds while his estranged wife tries to convince him to just accept it and that it’s really not that bad. And obviously that can be a metaphor for how fathers—”

“Done.” The nurse announced. “Dinner’s in an hour, Mr. Jung. Buzz if you need anything before then.”

“I think you freaked him out with your ‘eating live birds and scaring your dad is a metaphor for being a teen girl’ story, baby,” Sungchan chuckled.

“But it is!” You defended yourself. “And it’s so good, really!”

“I’m sure it is.” He scooted over in the tiny bed to make a little bit of room, then patted the empty space he’d just created. “Want my girl to tell me all about it.”

You clambered up next to him, still with one foot hanging off the bed to let both of you fit, but just all too happy to be with him again.

Just a little while later, and the nurse was poking his head back into Sungchan’s room. Dr. Jung paused the funny story she had just been telling from her seat on the small recliner next to the bed, and all three of you looked over at the newcomer.

The nurse focused his apologetic eyes on you, “Miss, I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.”

“Oh.” You looked around awkwardly, starting to get up from the bed. “Sorry, I thought he was allowed to have one person stay overnight.”

“Spouses and immediate family only, I’m sorry.”

“That’s fi—”

“No, we’re married,” Sungchan insisted, grabbing your hand. “It’s fine, she can stay.”

“Sir…” He trailed off, clearly debating about whether or not he wanted to just outright call Sungchan a liar.

“Channie, I told him earlier we were dating,” you informed your boyfriend quietly. “It’s fine, I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Baby…” He sighed.

“It’ll be okay, Channie, I’ll be back tomorrow,” you promised him, grabbing your go bag off the floor and hoisting it onto your shoulder. “You just worry about resting and getting better for me, okay?”

“I’ll walk you out, sweetheart,” his mom offered kindly, standing up as well.

“Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Channie,” you leaned down to drop a peck on his forehead. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He continued to keep a deathly tight grasp on your hand. “I love you too.”

You gave his hand one final pat before regretfully, gently shaking him off and walking out of the room. Dr. Jung slowly meandered down the hall with you.

“I’ll be there, in case they have to inject him, or draw blood, or anything else,” she reassured you.

“Right, thank you,” you nodded, looking down at your feet. “Has he always been afraid of needles? He never really talks about it with me, it’s just one of those things. I go with him for his shots, blood draws, all that.”

“Since he was a kid. He used to run from the room crying. We at least wanted him to be able to handle it on his own by the time he was an adult, even if it wasn’t comfortable.”

“He gives me my monthly injection now, the one I take for my migraines. Did you know that?”

“Really?” She did sound surprised at this tidbit of information.

“Pretty much since we started dating, yeah. Still wants me to go with him for his shots but…”

“It’s different when you’re the one being stuck.”

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You pressed the down button on the elevator. “Usually I’m the one that has something wrong with me and he’s taking care of me. It’s so… it doesn’t feel right, seeing him like that.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” She rubbed your arm. “But he’s strong, he’s healthy. I’m sure they’ll discharge him tomorrow to go back home with you.”

“Of course.”

“Now you go home and take care of that migraine that’s been coming on for the last fifteen minutes.”

You looked up at her with one eye open, shrugging. “Well, I don’t know if it’s a full migraine…”

“You’re squinting at the lights, sweetheart. Go home so you can take your meds, okay?”

The elevator dinged just then, the doors opening on your floor.

“Okay, thank you.” You gave her a tired, but genuinely grateful smile as you stepped onto the elevator. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You spent that night going through your first migraine alone in almost two years, curled up on Sungchan’s side of the bed in one of his huge hoodies, feeling like your head was exploding. But that wasn’t even the reason that you were crying.

In the morning, you were awake before visiting hours opened back up, and despite your instinct to drive to the hospital and wait in the parking lot, you pulled yourself into the shower instead. You didn’t have a lot of time nor mobility for your own shower routine yesterday, and were in desperate need of a good thorough clean and refresh now. After eating some of the leftovers you made the day before, you packed up a small to-go meal for Dr. Jung as well, unsure of how good the cafeteria food was there. She had given you an update during the night that his fever had finally broken, then another once she woke up that he slept through the rest of the night fine, and was still resting as of her text.

By the time you got to the hospital, it was open for daytime visitors, and you were let in with no issues. You’d let Dr. Jung know when you were on your on way, and she was standing outside the door to his room when you arrived.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she smiled, giving you a hug. “How’s your head?”

“Fine,” you waved off her concerns, reaching into your bag to grab the container of food you’d packed. “Brought you breakfast. Wasn’t sure what they were serving downstairs…”

She accepted it gratefully. “Thank you. Now: How’s your head?”

“Last night kind of sucked,” you admitted. “And I’ve got a rebound headache, but I’ll be fine. We don’t need to tell Channie right now, though. He’ll just worry too much and he won’t get better. How’d you sleep? That recliner looked pretty comfy.”

“Would’ve slept better, except he snores like a freight train,” she scoffed. “How you get any sleep is beyond me.”

You let out a round of genuine laughter at that. “He doesn’t usually. Must be the congestion.”

“Must be.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’m going to take my breakfast downstairs. He’s awake, been asking when you’d be here.”

“Thank you.” You gave her one last fleeting hug before hurrying in.

Sungchan already looked better than yesterday, still tired, but not as deathly pale as before, with no sheen of fever-sweat over his skin. He really just looked… tired.

“Good morning, Channie,�� you said breathlessly, setting your bag down. “Heard your fever broke last night. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, baby.” He reached out for your hand. “I’m feeling a lot better. I wish I could’ve made my girl breakfast this morning…”

“You can make me double breakfast after you come home.”

“And what’s double breakfast?”

“Guess you’ll have to figure that out.”

“Breakfast and breakfast for dinner.”

“Sounds pretty good to me.”

He looked up at you with a thoughtful frown on his face, reaching out to gently touch his fingertips to your cheek. “Are you okay, baby? You’re not feeling sick now too, are you?”

“I’m fine, baby. Just a bit tired. I’ll sleep like a baby once I have my Sungchannie back home with me.” You mustered as big of a smile as you could, squeezing his hand.

“I’ve got to get better quick then, can’t have—” he was cut off by loud, violent coughs, throwing his arm up to cover his mouth with his elbow. You rubbed his back as he continued coughing, and he reached for the bedside table. Handing him a couple of tissues from the box sat there, he spat out some of the mucus that had come up, and you used a few more fresh tissues to grab it and throw it away without complaint.

Returning to his side, you continued rubbing his back as he caught his breath. When he started slowly easing back into his bed, you took your hand away and grabbed his cup of water to give him.

“Here.”

He took a few sips before handing it back, and you took his hand again.

“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat. “Before I was so rudely interrupted by my own phlegm: I can’t have my girl all alone in a cold bed at night…”

You laughed, feeling the smitten smile on your face as you looked down at him. “There is some horndog switch in you that gets flipped when you’re unwell, I swear. Scientists need to study you.”

“I’m a scientist, remember?”

“You study a disease in one kind of fish,” you pointed out. “I mean like… sexologists or something. If those exist.”

“They do.”

“Well they’re missing out on… something here.” You gestured to him.

He half-laughed and half-coughed, which devolved into another full coughing fit. After recovering, he said, “Anyway, once my doctor rounds again and checks me out, he’ll be able to say if I can be discharged today or if he wants to keep me another night.”

“Fingers crossed.”

You suddenly rolled over to lay on top of him, pressing your face to his chest, wrapping your arms around him, and throwing your leg over him. He let out a slightly punched-out noise at the unexpected force of your affections, but nevertheless readjusted to wrap his arms around you.

“Hey, baby… Everything okay?” His throat was still hoarse, and he let out a half-cough half-throat clearing noise between his sentences. He added jokingly, “I’m not going to float away, you know?”

“I never want you to leave again,” you mumbled into his clothes. “Never. Never ever.”

“Okay, yeah,” his voice softened, one of his hands cradling the back of your head and stroking your hair. “I’ll never leave, ever again.”

➠ next | series masterlist | blog masterlist

#sungchan x reader #riize x reader #sungchan imagines #riize imagines #jungsung #sungchan imagine #riize imagine #nct x reader #nct imagine #nct imagines #jung sungchan #i: sungchan #f: onsaom #s: buzzer beater #writing #text #mine #bias tag #*100

182 notes · View notes

jesse-cromeans-sugarbaby · 7 months ago

Note

Hi love how are you? Hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself❤️

I was wondering if you would write about jesse cromeans x reader were the reader found out about Jesse's hobbies,after years of relationship and she decided to break up with him (in one condition she wouldn't rat him out).

And Jesse had been keeping a close eye on her (stalking her ect), till he noticed how she started forming a bump (lol she's pregnant) so he decides to start sending her baby things yk

(a crib, toys, high chair ect.ect) at her door step (like it's he's kind of way to tell her that hey yk ik you don't want me no more and shit but I still wanna make sure u have everything you need lol)

And you take it from there feel free to delete this if you don't like it or just don't wanna write about ❤️I do still enjoy all of your work your blog is amazing and so is your writing 🥰and congratulations on hitting 100 followers.

I do really hope more people would notice your blog YOU DESERVE IT AFTER ALL ❤️❤️

A/n: (WHEWWWWWW I’ve been gone for a hot minute I apologize everyone. Anyway as you requested my darling I’m sorry it took me so long to write.)

JESSE CROMEANS X PREGNANT!READER

WARNINGS: talks of murder, Jesse is obsessed with you (lucky), kissing,kidnapping, sexual themes.

A WEEK AGO

I’m….pregnant? Looking down at the positive pregnancy test. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! What do I do? I can’t tell him can I? Shit. I look at myself in the mirror. I smile and throw away the pregnancy test hiding it under more trash.

Your boyfriend loves you of course you know that but you guys never discussed pregnancy. He never discussed kids and neither did you…sighing I brush my teeth to get rid of the throw up taste in my mouth. How was I gonna tell him. Maybe I should surprise him?

I walk out of the bathroom and into our bedroom I look at him and I smile. He looks up at me smirking patting the spot next to him. I giggle hoping into bed with him. “How was your day princess?” He signs before kissing down the front of my neck to my cleavage. Running my fingers along his back. “It was good….really..really busy” yeah and I’m pregnant.

He nods before pulling you into a kiss, smiling I wrap my arms around his neck. He pulls me on top of him he slides his hands up your nightgown before flipping me onto my back, I start giggling. The next morning I jolt awake. I look beside me seeing him gone. Ah he must’ve already left. I see a note confirming my thoughts

It says “had to leave for work, love you I’ll call you later” I smile before seeing his laptop open…smiling to myself can’t help but snoop. I grab it and open it. Oh it’s his email, must’ve forgotten to close it. I see a email that catches my eye. I click on it.

Horrified, no…..it was a video of Jesse murdering a woman…he threw her onto the ground before raising his knife in the air and plunging it into her head. Gagging I close the video and slam the laptop closed.

I run to the bathroom to throw up.

——————————————————

Sitting across from him at dinner i held the pregnancy test in your pocket. I stared at him as he typed away on his phone before finally turning to look at you. “We should discuss something” Jesse stared for a minute before typing away on his phone before playing it “we can discuss it later princess” no now Jesse” he sighed before nodding

“I know…..” that’s all I said…it’s all I could really say in the moment. He stared at me before pulling out his phone typing “and?” “And? Really Jesse?” He stared before cracking his neck. “I don’t think I can be involved with you…anymore”

“And I promise I won’t tell”….he stood walking over to me before nodding “as long as you keep your mouth shut princess…it won’t be a problem”

Little did you know Jesse was fuming.

————————

I was working to jobs right now to afford this shit hole of an apartment. That I shared with my shitty roommate. With the baby on the way I’m wasn’t sure if I could pull off being a single mom. Jolting awake rushing to the bathroom I feel dizzy and nauseated. I hunch over the toilet before throwing up. I sit on the floor of the bathroom…my belly is slightly bigger now.

Standing up I look at myself in the mirror frowning before brushing my teeth and getting dressed for work. Grabbing my brush I put my hair into a low pony tail. As I struggle to tie my sneakers I hear my door bell ring. Sighing I drop my shoes before walking over to the door looking through the peep hole seeing nothing.

“Hm.”

Opening the door I see a box, tilting my head I bring the box inside opening it. It’s…filled with bath bombs, robe, tea, and looking at the card it says “relax you deserve it” smiling assuming it’s from your mom. Grabbing your phone your shove it into your purse before putting on flats giving up in sneakers.

Walking out of the house the waddling down towards the bus stop. Where I sat down and waited for my bus to arrive.

*In the distance there the soft hun the an engine, Jesse watches you from a black Bentley. He takes a puff from the cigarette he was smoking to watch as you get onto the bus he starts his car following after the bus. Once the bus stops and you hop out he parks the car watching you walk past shops to get to your work.

He notices you looking at a summer dress in the stores window. Smiling he watches you sigh before walking away.*

—————————————————

I sighed as I scrubbed the tables in the diner I work for. Humming as I wipe down the tables grabbing the menus, I walk over to the kitchen the head chef barb stops me “hey hun how ya feeling” I smile rubbing my back I laugh “oh you know the same old stuff” she smiles and hands me a iced tea and a plate of cookies “go take a break hun and eat”

Smiling I nod taking them from her, I sit she smiles they brought a chair back here so I could sit whenever needed. I munch on the cookies happily taking a sip as I stuff the cookies into my mouth. Barb laughs before continuing to work.

Suddenly our boss is in kitchen “get back to work all of ya!?”

———————————————

I sighed softly as I unpackaged the 15th box to arrive this week…I didn’t buy any of this baby stuff and when I asked my mother who was sending it she just said no. I scratched my head trying to figure out how to put this crib together. To be fair I wasn’t doing to well on my own. I was worried about how I’d be able to afford all this. You’d think with two jobs I’d be able to support myself. Suddenly my phone rings I sigh standing walking over to it answering the phone.

“Hello?”

I hear nothing…I’ve been hoping Jesse would reach out I looked at all the baby stuff before breaking out into tears shake as I ball into my hands. I thought I could do this. I caress my bump humming as I try to gather myself. “We’re gonna be okay”

Jesses fist is clenched tightly as he watches through the camera. Jesse was not gonna just sit by anymore you are his. He look over to span and Preston before standing. He grabbed Preston by the collars and ordered him to get the car ready.

———————————————

Hearing a crash I jolted up holding my stomach I look around confused before standing up the night gown I’m wearing is stretched over my belly. “Hello?” I wa all into the hallway seeing a trail of blood. My eyes widen in shock following the blood. I walk into the kitchen to see Jesse hunched over my dead roommate. He notices me and we just sit there staring at one another. He inhales the smell of you filling his nostrils. God hes missed you.

Staring down at him you don’t know what to say…horrified but happy? Like horrified he murdered your roommate but happy to see him? He stands slowly as if you’ll run away. “Hey princess” he signs I feel tears in my eyes…he approaches before he pulls you into a hug. I lay my head on his chest sighing suddenly trying to pull away when I feel a prick in my neck.

“Ouch…what the hell was that!”

“Just a light sedative…I’m bringing you home.” He types quickly before he grab you and carries you bridal style out of the apartment and to the car he sets you in slowly before buckling you in. He smiles his hand touches your stomach. He takes off his mask placing a kiss on your forehead. I placed his mask back on walking over to the drivers side opening the door he sits down looking over at you closing the door.

He starts driving back home…

He contacted spann typing out “I have her…prepare for her arrival.”

#slashers #jesse cromeans #Jesse cromeans x reader #laid to rest #laid to rest 2 #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n

88 notes · View notes

starlightsearches · 5 days ago

Note

Heloooos! I've been sober from using tumblr for almost two years but your recent Hux post has me relapsing and its all your doing in the best ways possible. If it gives you any inspo, could you mayhaps write a modern!hux who has reader as their personal guard? My current job has me babysitting a higher up as punishment (the guy makes my life miserable but if was The Armitage Hux I would bark if he asked). Like an enemies to lovers and refusing to just be his friend due to too many feelings ?????

Sleepless Nights

Thanks for the request, my love! Sorry if it's not "enemies" enough for you, I have this insane fear of people being angry with me so I've never been good at the whole enemies to lovers thing. Anyways, let me know if you like what you see :0) Comments, likes, and reblogs are very cool!

Warnings: Kind of slutty, kind of rambly, hux is kind of toxic, language. I think that's it!

You're about three bites into your wilty Caesar salad when the alarm on your phone chimes.

You fiddle with the volume buttons for a second before silencing the noise completely, steeling yourself in preparation for the look you just know Veronica is sending your way.

It's worse than you'd anticipated. You actually flinch a little when you meet her eyes.

She stabs at her own food ferociously, but doesn't take a bite of the pad thai she ordered, bringing the fork level with her gaze. Being on the business end of those tines makes your heart beat a little faster.

"I thought you had twenty minutes for lunch."

You sneak the lid of your Tupperware in between your fingers, slipping it back over the top what's left of your food.

"No . . . I said the meeting would be twenty minutes. I have to be back at my desk before he's done."

Veronica chews at her bottom lip, and you just know that—if you were sitting anywhere that wasn't right outside her boss's office—she'd be cussing you out for, once again, letting Hux take advantage of your truly incredible work ethic.

Lucky for you, if there's one thing your friend likes more than violent outbursts, it's office gossip. The urge overtakes her, and Veronica leans in closer with a passing glance at Phasma's open door, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

"What's his deal lately, anyway?"

Interesting. You thought you were the only one who had noticed a change in Hux's temperament.

He had a reputation, of course—there was a reason he'd had five different executive assistants in the past year—and everybody checked over their shoulders before they bitched about him in the break room.

It hit you hardest—always in the blast radius, so to speak—with your desk just outside his door. You'd spent plenty of time rolling your eyes behind his back, or muttering curses under your breath when you heard his door latch.

But you'd put up with a lot more for a lot less, and you found you were able to take most of your boss's asshole-ish tendencies in stride.

So what if the hours are long? Sitting at your desk late into the night, filing memos and typing up emails between coffee runs was lonely, but your nights before the job were, too. At least now you were getting paid.

The past few weeks had been strange, though. Longer hours, later nights. His presence hovering over your shoulder or watching you through the crack in his door, that nervous energy always focused on you, waiting for you to misstep.

Then there were the calls during the few moments you were outside of the office, filled with reminders for routines you'd never once forgotten. Hux had been fidgety and restless during those morning debriefs and stumbling over his words half the time he passed your desk with some new directive.

"What's his deal ever?" you counter, and she snorts—then when that feels too mean, "he said he hasn't been sleeping."

Veronica purses her lips, smiling around the next word.

"Oh."

You really don't have the time to wait around for an explanation—the elevator up to the top floor already takes three minutes on its own—but, god, the way she says that word stops you like an ice pick to the heart.

"What?"

"Come on," she rolls her eyes, wondering how you could be so obtuse, "everybody knows that when a guy says he can't sleep it's because . . ."

She waits for you to fill in the rest.

"Uhhhhh . . ."

"It means," Veronica sighs, yanking you closer by the arm so nobody will overhear, "that he's been thinking about you. You know, like—" she mimics the beat of some cheesy porn intro, with the bwops and the chicka-waahs.

As if you didn't already get the message.

Your stomach rolls, and not with hunger—although you're wasting valuable time you could have to shovel the rest of your lunch into your mouth on the way back to your desk.

It takes a moment, but you manage a weak laugh, shaking yourself out of your stupor.

Hux didn't think about you like that. He didn't think about you at all unless he was reading his dictations over your shoulder while you were still writing them, just in case he needed to preemptively correct your mistakes.

"Uh, okay, you're insane."

Veronica's brows come together at the challenge—you know she won't stand for that. She scans the immediate area until she narrows in on a victim.

"Hey, Stephen."

The new intern's on his third trip past her desk since you got here, turning so quick to the side you're surprised his head stays attached to his neck.

He's been waiting for this moment all day.

Stephen's cute—dark, fluffy hair and big eyes—eager like a puppy with his clumsy, loping walk . . . and he's got no fucking chance. Veronica would chew him into pieces.

He runs over to her desk, totally clueless to that.

"What's up?"

Veronica smiles, leaning over her desk so the top of her button-down starts to split open. Stephen develops a twitch in his eye trying to keep his gaze level with hers.

"What does it mean when a guy tells a girl that he's having trouble sleeping?"

He relaxes visibly, like someone just asked him the color of the sky.

"Oh, yeah. It means he wants to fuck her."

Stephen gives the answer to you—well aware of his role—then looks to Veronica, waiting for a good boy and a dog treat and a pat on the head.

You feel like you've stepped into the twilight dimension. When the fuck did that become common knowledge?

"Okay, you're both insane, and now I'm running late."

Your steps are harried on the way back to the elevator, begging the engine to move faster or the second-hand on your watch to tick slower. Trying not to think about your boss, thinking about you every night, twisted up in his sheets.

Because, yeah, you had your daydreams. Everybody needs something to distract from the drudgery of all those fucking emails. It never mattered much to you who had you pinned against the shelves in the supply closet of your mind.

Just a little entertainment to wake you up during the afternoon slump—feverish hands and desperation and the crisp smell of copy paper.

But you've always had a thing for a well-cut suit. And Hux had plenty of those.

So what if you were kind of into him and his weird little hard-ass routine? You'd never dream of going any further than your daydreams.

But was he going further? And what did that look like?

Your palms are sweating when you get back to your desk, and you can't get the image out of your head—Hux with sweat beading down the taut skin of his neck, with his arms caging you against a wall, with his hips pinning yours against the hard edge of his desk.

You hardly have time to plant your ass in your chair before you hear the tell-tale footsteps around the corner.

Speak of the devil—or, you know, daydream about fucking him.

"Any calls?"

Hux barely glances in your direction—always on the move lately—no room in his schedule to actually stop at your desk and speak to you. You'd guess he's only got time for three directives before he's out of earshot.

Good news. Maybe you could make it out of here before midnight.

"I'm still working through them, sir, but I'll let you know if anything important has come through."

Total lie. You haven't even looked at the phone. And you can't look him in the eye either, feeling flushed and frantic.

Oh god. Do you look flushed and frantic?

Hux doesn't notice either way. Maybe Veronica was wrong and decided to ruin your entire life on a whim.

"Make sure you have a car prepared for the event on Friday. I won't stay longer than twenty minutes."

"Of course, sir. I'll call and let him know."

You had already made that call, but you'd have to update Mitaka, still. That's ten minutes less than the original time you gave him.

He's half-way into his office when he turns back for his last demand, "and I'll need you late, again, tonight."

Fuck. So close. You'd have to reschedule that date with your vibrator.

"Of course, sir. Whatever you need."

I'll need you late, again, tonight?

Could he make it any more fucking obvious?

Hux feels like slamming his head against the wall. He would, maybe, if he wasn't sure you'd hear the rattling window and come to see what his problem was. And that would only present more opportunities for him to make a fool of himself.

He certainly doesn't need any more of those.

It seemed like good advice when it was first given to him—"spending more time together" would be an easy first step, if it didn't also involve time-and-a-half for you. The paychecks he was signing were starting to look as ridiculous as the little infatuation he's been carrying.

Not that it mattered. If money was what you wanted, he'd give it. Anything to endear himself to you.

But the extra time—and the money—aren't helping. You're as distant as ever, maybe moreso, with the fog of sleeplessness and your inevitable irritability at his constant demands.

It's his own damn feelings that get in the way. He can't concentrate, not with the shape of your legs in those pencil skirts. He spends most meetings in wondering how to find out the name of the perfume you wear.

And where he can find a bottle of it for personal use.

Nights, still, are worse.

That's where this all started. Hux hardly ever had dreams, and the few dreams he did have in those short, unconscious hours were never memorable.

Then he woke with the feeling soft skin enveloping his cheeks, tasting you on his lips. And god, those noises you were making for him, your fingers through his hair, begging for him to come closer, to give you more.

It flipped the switch. You went from a passive—albeit attractive—body in a chair to a person. A someone.

A need.

He knew it was wrong. He knew, even with his sweat soaking the sheets and his heavy hand resting on his abdomen that this would ruin so much for him.

The mind can be reasoned with, if the body is hungry enough. And Armitage is so, so hungry for you.

On the nights he manages to resist, he imagines, wonders. Are you alone? Do you think of him? Or are you warming someone else's bed, rolling from their sheets with a heavy sigh every time Armitage's contact pops up on your phone screen?

That worry has him sick to his stomach.

So it's best to keep you close. Keep an eye on you.

Hux looks up from the stack of reports he's been reviewing, shifts in his chair just right until he can see you through the window outside his office without you noticing him.

It puts a god-awful crick in his neck if he sits like this too long. His chiropractor commented on it during his last appointment.

Normally there's not much to see—a Solitare window pulled up when you think he won't notice, the shape of your back curved gracefully. Sometimes your bra visible through the fabric of your thin, white shirts.

Not today, though. You're sitting ram-rod straight, one hand brushing some loose hair behind your ear. All your attention focused on the towering man in front of you, his arms propped against the top edge of your desk and a leering grin on his face.

Ren.

Armitage almost falls with the force of his shock, and then settles along with an empty rage in the pit of his stomach.

Of course Ren would have noticed Hux's preoccupation. And of course he would wield Hux's feelings against him.

There's an animal inside his chest, clawing to get out, giving him half a mind to stomp out there, chase Ren away with some biting remark and a hand on the back of your chair.

But there's a fear that runs deeper. Maybe you'd prefer someone like Ren.

A man who is in every way Hux's opposite. Volatile. Domineering. Powerfully built.

Could Armitage compete?

His inadequacy floods him with a distasteful anger. Armitage will put an end to it immediately. Call you into his office and berate you for socializing during working hours, shame you for inappropriate and obvious mooning over a superior.

He'll make you feel small, ashamed. The way he feels right now.

Too late for all his bravado. Ren steps away from your desk with one glance back, a knowing smirk on his face. Hux almost feels like it's a look meant for him, like Ren can find his gaze through the wall.

Armitage stands from the chair, unsure what his purpose is and knowing he'll defer to anger, as always. Knowing it will make you hate him more than you probably already do.

You don't start immediately when the door opens, and he can't tell from his view of the back of your head what you're thinking.

How many times had he wished he could delve into your mind, pull out gauzy strings of your memories, any thought or emotional tug you'd had in his vicinity? How many times had he hoped you might give him a hint or a sign that you felt anything for him at all?

Armitage coughs, and you jump, turning in your chair until you meet his eyes.

"My office," he tells you, and turns back without waiting to see if you'll follow.

Your steps are quiet in the already quiet office. Everyone else has gone home by now, leaving the two of you alone, and the lights buzz menacingly over the sound of your heels rustling against the carpet. You take your usual seat across from his desk. Armitage stays on his feet, hoping to channel his anxious energy somewhere, liking the way it feels to tower over you.

"Did you need something, sir?"

He knows you're nervous. You don't try to hide it, fidgeting with your fingers, chewing at your lip, avoiding his eyes. Armitage wishes that it was him that made you feel that way, not his position, not his reputation for anger.

"What did Ren want?" he asks.

Your lips part, and then come back together in hesitation, planning an appropriate answer, wondering how he'll react.

"His assistant put in her two weeks notice today," you tell him.

He hums, waiting for more. Your lips flush a lighter shade when you press them more tightly together, and he knows you'll acquiesce.

"He offered me the position, sir."

Armitage sees red, feels his hands curl into fists where they rest behind his back. That arrogant, underhanded, low-life bastard. Hux would . . .

He keeps a cool tone, arches a brow. "And?"

"I told him I appreciated the offer but I'd prefer keep my current position."

And that gives him pause. Has the strange, effervescent hope alight in his chest, but something else snuffs it out.

"Why?"

Hux can't hide the skepticism in his voice, the aching disbelief that you would choose him in any context, but especially this.

Everyone knew working under Armitage was . . . trying. He saw the looks of pity you received from other secretaries as they packed their bags for the night, knew they were taking some solace at your misery while sipping on their happy-hour cocktails. He's well aware that he is demanding, and stubborn, and always so exacting.

He's like that in his personal life, too. Which is why he is always alone.

Your brows come together in an obvious but uncharacteristic sign of anger.

"I'm not afraid of hard work, sir."

"I am aware of that, but—"

Why is he so desirous to argue against himself? You are the best assistant he's ever had. Unfortunately, pushing people away is a skill he's mastered over and over and over again.

"Do you want me to leave?" you interrupt him, arms crossing defensively over your chest.

Part of him wants to say yes. To rid himself of this weakness you've blossomed in him, to keep everything under his control and eliminate all other variables.

Your lips press tighter together—Hux would assume he's hurt you, if he thought he had that kind of power.

He's been silent too long. You stand from your chair, brush your hands over your skirt to smooth out the wrinkles.

"Alright, then." You speak without meeting his eyes, heading for the door.

Armitage isn't sure what makes you stop, not until you glance down at your wrist, and he mirrors the movement, sees his own hand circling it.

A perfect fit.

"Sir?"

Your voice is hazy, blurred out by the warmth of your skin and the smell of your perfume and the way your eyes go wide when Armitage makes his approach.

Without saying a word or offering a hint of an apology, Hux is kissing you.

#armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux au #general hux au #general hux x reader #general hux x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #my writing

40 notes · View notes

marie-swriting · 6 months ago

Text

Waste Of Time - Jake "Hangman" Seresin [1/2]

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Emails I Can't Send Masterlist

Part two

Part one - two (French version)

Summary : You can't stop reminiscing your relationship with Jake despite your break up.

Warnings : angst, sad ending, Jake being a dick, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 1.9k

Song inspiration : Things I Wish You Said by Sabrina Carpenter

Sitting on your bed, you’re holding your phone in front of you with Jake’s contact picture on the screen. You’re so excited to talk to him again that you have a big smile on your face. You’re currently on deployment so you haven’t been able to communicate properly with your boyfriend for the past few days.

After a few seconds, Jake’s face appears and you see he’s sitting on his couch.

“Hey, I’m sorry for not calling earlier, it’s crazy out here.” you apologise.

“Don’t worry, I totally get how complicated it can be to call.”

“Anyway, what’s up?”

“Not much, it’s pretty calm.” Jake says before avoiding your gaze. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I… Look,” he nervously starts and you stand up, fearing what’s about to come next, “I don’t know how to tell you this so I’m just gonna rip the bandage off; we should break up.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“It’s not you, I swear, it’s me.”

“What kind of bullshit is this?” you say, angry and confused. “Everything is fine between us. I don’t understand why you want to break up. Did I do something?”

“No, like I said, it’s not you. I just want to focus on my career and-”

“And what? I’m some kind of distraction? You can’t be in a relationship and work like a big boy?” you retort, annoyed.

“You’re mad and I understand it but it’s for the better.” Jake calmly replies which makes you even angrier.

“Clearly.”

“Y/N, you’re a good person, I don’t want you to doubt it for one second.”

Jake’s sentence should bring you some kind of comfort and yet, it just makes you turn on him even more. You don’t even look at your phone anymore, a million emotions going through your head. You don’t know if you’re more devastated or mad. Understanding it’s of no use to insist, Jake sighs before talking one last time:

“I’m gonna leave you alone now.”

You glance at your phone again, waiting for Jake to say something else and yet, nothing comes. Jake doesn’t even add a “I’m sorry” before hanging up, leaving you in your bedroom alone and in a heavy silence. You keep your eyes on your phone, still in shock by what just happened. You can’t grasp it.

You met Jake four months ago and everything happened so quickly, but you both didn’t mind it. Some people tried to warn you by telling you about his reputation with women, nevertheless you ignored them. You and Jake clicked instantly and that’s what mattered. And also, you’re not going to lie, he knew how to get you hooked in one conversation. You felt like it was the same for him, that Jake was as attached to you as you were to him, now, you have some doubts. What bothers you the most is that your relationship was becoming more serious - until now. You were seeing each other whenever you could, you even talked about owning a house together. You had begun to imagine a future together and with just one phone call, Jake threw it all away.

That night, you don’t shed a tear. You tell yourself you made this phone call up. Though, the next morning, once you wake up without Jake’s usual morning text wishing you a good day, you realise it was, indeed, real and you break down the second you come home from work. Never had your heart known such heartbreak, it didn't see it coming.

Five months passed since this sinister call. Every night, your last conversation is stuck in your head, you think back to your relationship with Jake, searching for what you could have done wrong and the more you think about it, the more you realise you always put more energy in this relationship than Jake did. Now, you consider yourself stupid for hoping for something beautiful when you had been warned that Jake couldn’t commit to someone. You thought you were different. You are not. You find yourself even more pathetic because Jake is always in your head. Even when he’s not with you anymore, he still manages to make you waste your time.

Tonight is another proof of it. You ran into Jake at a Navy event. Unfortunately for you, you saw Jake there and now, here you are, laying on your bed, thinking back to him and this event and more specifically the moment you saw him in the parking lot when you left the party, a moment that won’t leave your mind for the next several days.

You went to this event without much conviction. You were accompanied by your new friend Scott whom you had met during your last mission.

At first, you didn’t want to be here, then you saw Jake and the second you recognised his laugh from the other end of the room, you wanted to run far away from the get-together. Scott, always a good friend, stayed by your side and distracted you. He even managed to make you laugh, although internally, your heart was breaking all over again. You didn’t talk to Jake all night. In fact, you didn’t even get close to him, you avoided him like the plague. You did until it was socially acceptable to leave the party. The second the evening began to wind down, you wanted to bolt far away from this place. While you were walking to your car, you found yourself face to face with Jake. At first, you both stood there, looking into each other’s eyes without talking and then, as you weren’t ready to confront him, you started to walk away to your vehicle when Jake held you back.

“Can we talk, please?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Jake.” you had told, on your guard.

“Yeah, I imagine talking to me is the last thing you want to do but I need to tell you something.”

“You said more than enough last time.” you had declared, turning on your heel to go in the opposite direction to him.

“Actually, I didn’t say enough. You deserve an apology.”

At his sentence, you turned to him, surprised. Getting an apology from Jake was the last thing you expected. You stood in front of him, your arms crossed over your chest as a way to show him you wouldn’t let him get under your skin so easily - when in reality, this felt like doing something impossible.

“I’m sorry I left you in the dark when I broke things off. I’m sorry I pulled the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’. It wasn’t fair to you. And I’m…” Jake had sighed, “you deserve a real apology, better than this one, though I had to, at least, tell you this. Maybe I’m going too far but I’d be happy to make it up to you correctly by meeting each other someday soon.”

“Jake, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” you had refused, looking down for a second. “But thanks for what you just told me, it’s always nice to hear it.”

Following your sentence, you thought the conversation was over so you took out your car keys from your purse when Jake’s voice resonated in the parking lot once more:

“Is it because of the guy you were with tonight that you turned me down? Have you guys been together for a long time?”

“Scott? He’s just a friend.”

“The way he made you laugh…,” Jake had scoffed, “it didn’t feel like you were just being friends.”

“And yet, there is nothing between us.” you had replied, defensive. “And anyway, why does it bother you so much? We’re not together anymore, do I have to remind you this was your decision?”

“And it was a dumb decision. I miss you so damn much!” He had exclaimed with a guilty look on his face. “God, you have no idea. Everything reminds me of you. The second one of your favourite artists is on the radio, I can still picture you singing the lyrics with a huge smile on your face. What I wouldn’t do to see that smile again!” he had added more softly. “Even now, I always reach for your leg over there on your side of the car then I realise you’re not here anymore because I fucked up. I’m watching everything that you do, every achievement you make, I make sure to know them. I’ve always known you were a damn good pilot but you keep impressing me. I should’ve realised the chance I had when I was with you before ruining it. I can’t move on, I can’t even stomach loving somebody else beside you.” Jake had confessed, taking a step towards you.

As soon as you saw him getting closer, you couldn’t help but look at his lips, oh, how you’ve missed those lips so much! Looking at him more carefully, you also noticed he wanted to touch you, too. Several times, his hands had almost reached over for yours, nonetheless he held himself back, not wanting to ruin anything with you by acting impulsively. Listening to Jake’s confession almost made you fall for him again and forget about the pain he caused you. Though, you stayed silent, knowing that if you opened your mouth, you wouldn’t know how to resist him. With a desperate voice, Jake tried to go all in by stating one last time:

“I swear if you gave me one last chance, I would do better for you. I will be the man you deserve, I won’t break your heart. I learned from my mistakes, I promise.”

“Jake, you hurt me.” you had said with a weak voice.

“I get it but if you ever were to change your mind, I’d always be free. Again, I’m sorry.”

With this last apology, Jake left you alone and you got in your car with teary eyes. You hold them back until you left the parking lot.

Unfortunately, this is not what happened.

You did run into Jake in the parking lot but he stayed silent. At one point, you thought he was about to say something nevertheless he just walked away, a guilty look on his face.

And here you are now, in your bed, fantasising about things you wish he said to you. Despite the break up five months ago, you’re still desperate for his love. Despite the pain he caused you, you yearn for his apologies, but especially you wish he’d still want you and even if in the scenario you made up, you refused to see Jake again, you know that once you would have gone home, you would have called him and said yes. You still love him and you wish you didn’t. He’s still playing with your feelings when he’s not even talking to you anymore. Your heart conspires against you by torturing you and making you long for a Jake who would know how to fix his mistakes and be the man you deserve. Yet, it’s of no use. Jake will never change and if he came back, it’d be just to play with your feelings before leaving you hanging again. You waste your time on idiotic things. It’s a waste of time to hope for him to change, it’s a waste of time to think of things he never said and things he’ll never say to you. Jake is a waste of time and you’re mad at yourself for dedicating so much time of your life for a man who stopped thinking about you a long time ago. You just hope one day you’ll be able to feel lighter, away from Jake and your feelings for him.

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Part two

Emails I Can't Send Masterlist

67 notes · View notes

storagebay29 · 11 months ago

Text

james somerton 'apology' video transcript

Note: for those who do not want to watch it. For those who do, here's a link to a reupload as the original has since been deleted. There are a lot of a pauses and 'um's/'uh's, the latter of which are largely ommitted from the below transcript. Posted under a readmore as it's pretty long.

I'm sorry for taking so long to make this video, or to say anything. I'm in the hospital- I've been in the hospital for a little over a week. I tried- Fuck. I tried to do something really stupid... (pause) I'm only here now because before I did it, I called my dad to talk to him one more time and, he figured out something was wrong, called paramedics or 911 or… and they got here and I woke up in the hospital and, yeah.

…

Anyway, I'm not trying to make this a sob story, I'm just trying to explain why I've been so quiet. I had a friend from back home checking my emails and stuff, and yeah.

…

But anyway… I wanna say that I'm really really sorry, really really sorry... for the stuff in the videos, the not crediting people, and for a lot of videos, you know I, I did the opening titles thing, and I tried to put like ‘this is based on X's- this person's research, or on this person's book,’ but I know now that wasn't enough, that wasn't okay. And then there were a lot of times... that uh... oh god. There were a lot of times that stuff just got put in and there was no attempt at crediting anybody (pause) and I'm really really sorry.

And I'm not, I'm not sorry that I got caught, I'm sorry for ever doing it, I didn't- I honestly honestly... didn't realise that I was hurting people... And now that I know that I was hurting people… I'm just really sorry.

I lost my best friend because of this. Nick and I have been best friends since 2011 or [20]12? We'd been friends online and then. He lived in Ottawa, I moved to Ottawa so we could be, like, friends in person, and then we moved back to- I moved back to Nova Scotia, and Nick came with me. We eventually moved to the Toronto area where we lived together for 7 years? 8 years? We lived together for a really long time… and… he hasn't spoken to me since this happened.

Sorry, sorry I said I wasn't gonna make this a sob sorry. I should’ve got some Kleenex.

Then again I'm really really really sorry for the things I did in the videos: copying people's work and not crediting them properly or at all. I also wanna apologise for the misinformation and just outright lies that ended up in the videos? I didn't- I honestly say that I never intended for any of that stuff to be in the videos, most cases I didn't write it but I should’ve, you know it was my face on the channel, my name on the channel, I should have been, I should have been more diligent about fact checking and stuff. ‘Cause there was a lot of really stupid shit in there. It would’ve- it's just so easy to check, I just never did, I just took it for granted…

I also, I wanna thank Hbomberguy and his team for setting up the fund to make some money available for the authors that were wronged and the journalists and writers and…

I wanna help somehow, I don't know how, a lot of- I've seen a lot of people online saying how much money I apparently make and they’re way overestimating. Beyond the fact that Nick and I split everything 50/50, they're still way overestimating how much money came in… And the Toronto area is expensive, so there's not really any kind of savings, I'm moving home really soon… ‘Cause without Nick there's nothing for me here, and like I said it's really expensive…

And so I wanna say I wanna thank them for setting up that fund, and I wanna help somehow. The only thing I can think of right now is to make the videos, most of the videos public again and every month I can send the ad revenue from all of the past videos- ‘cause there were plenty that didn't have any, any uncredited stuff in them... But I can make them public again, and then every month I can send the AdSense to- either I can send it to Hbomberguy's team, that they can add to the fund, or I can start a fund myself? And every month I can publicly say how much money was made on the AdSense and show it. And send that to the writers and stuff every month. I don't know... what the system for that would be? But I would be more than happy to do that

You know some of the videos like the ‘Killing Stalking’ video brought in like a pretty decent amount of money every month so that would be helpful I think/to them. I'll also put in either the description or the pinned comment the names of the authors so that anyone watching the video knows where all of the information came from, that it wasn’t me going out doing journalism- I never thought that anyone thought that I was doing journalism and stuff, and I don't think anyone did. For the people who actually were doing it should have been given the credit they deserve, they did the hard work, all I did was edit a video. They did the hard work and they- they deserved the credit

(cut) Sorry about that, phone stopped recording.

But- yes. They deserved- they deserved credit, and… when it was something... when it was something like the, the recent... ‘history of hollywood’ videos, right there in the opening credits, I put the Vito Russo's name, that it was adapted from his book ‘The Celluloid Closet’. Same thing went for the gay panic video and the gay holocaust video, they were- the holocaust video was adapted from two books, and the gay panic video was adapted from a lot of journalism, and I- I put their names right at the beginning of the videos.

But and- I understand that's not how citation works... now. I understand that, I get it. And I wanna do better. And I know a lot of people hate me now, ‘cause I did bad shit. But I wanna try and do better. At some point I’d like to make videos again. I'd like to do videos that are fully sourced, where I will put a link to the script where you can find all the sources so that everyone is properly given the credit that they deserve, any the kind of research that's done, credit for any b roll that's used whether it's stock footage, or movies or TV shows or video games, or anything like that, have it all in there. I would like to become a really really good example of giving proper credit to writers and journalists

And I know a lot of you watching this aren't- aren't really gonna care, you'd rather I just disappear. But I would like to try to do better.

I never ever intended to hurt anybody. I never thought that that's what I was doing. Before I went- before I went to the hospital, I read a lot of stuff from people who were really hurt, not just authors and stuff but people who watched my videos who were hurt by stuff in them. People think that I hate ace people and women and bisexual people and lesbians and that's not true. It's really- it's just- it’s not true. And I’m sorry that stuff made it into videos that just shouldn’t have been there: misinformation and lies... But I promise you I did not write that stuff.

I should have been a lot more exacting when Nick and I would be editing scripts but I promise you that those are not- I don't think those things. I specifically want to apologise to asexual people who feel that I just completed delegitimised you. Nick being ace, I- I know that it's kinda like you know, no two gay people are exactly the same, no two ace people are exactly the same, but I kind of, when it came to that I just kind of ran with Nick's judgement and his observations and stuff like that. And I’m not trying to throw Nick under the bus, which a bunch of people are saying that I was setting him up as doing, which is not true…

This whole thing, Nick and I were 50/50 partners, it wasn't I hired him to have a scapegoat or something like that. I never hired Nick. Nick and I were roommates for years before I started doing Youtube videos and then they started- people started watching them and I asked Nick if he wanted to help me write them and he said yes and we started splitting the- first the AdSense and then the Patreon and then the sponsorships, we just split everything. Nick was never supposed to be a fall guy.

I'm sorry. Maybe I should have waited longer to do this. But yeah, I- the- I did not- I don’t think those things and I don't think Nick does either, I think it was just how fast we were writing stuff, and how fast we were putting videos out, it was just too fast. And we weren’t putting the care into them that needed to be put into them.

I've seen a lot of people on social media and other youtubers even lying about me, but other- other- Hbomberguy was not one of them, I just wanna be clear about that, except I was never setting Nick up to be a fall guy and. It was never a grift or anything like that. I swear it was not. It is not.

In the next couple of days, I'm gonna send out a message to the Telos supporters on Indiegogo and explain the whole situation in more detail to them because we were not super clear about everything that was going on with Telos and so I can- I understand if it seems like we weren't doing anything but we were. We were doing a lot of work on Telos. We just weren’t talking about it is because we- we made that initial first announcement for ‘final girl’ and that fell through and I'll explain that to the message I send out to the supporters which I'm sure will end up on reddit or somewhere… And after that we didn't- we didn't want to talk about it too much until we had something really concrete, and I will explain all of that in that message

Telos was and is not a grift. I was never gonna take the money and run. None of the money that came in for telos was ever going to be paying me or Nick. It was going to be paying queer actors and artists, musicians, things like that. And I know there's been lots of talk about budgets and all this stuff, and people saying that I'm really stupid for thinking a movie could be made for that little money, but there are examples of it being done, and I actually do have a work ethic.

Anyway. but yeah. anyway

I do want to keep making videos and I know a lot of you won't watch them and that's- that's fine. But I really liked making videos…

We ended up making a lot of videos we didn't wanna make because people were asking for them, and so there were a lot of videos that we made that we didn't wanna make, and I think those videos are very clear on which ones those were. One of them never got officially released. It was released to patrons, some patrons have shared it to other people before all the videos went private. A lot of people hate the analysis that Nick and I did on it but. And so maybe it's good that that never got properly released, because… maybe it would have hurt people. And I don't want that.

But I do wanna make videos again sometime. I'd love to do like retrospectives on important gay movies. If you watch the channel ‘Be Kind Rewind’ they're an amazing channel that do a lot of retrospectives on older Hollywood movies and I would love to do that for gay movies. A lot of gay movies, people my age and younger have never heard of, things like ‘Torch Song Trilogy’ and ‘Longtime Companion’, and stuff like that, movies from the seventies and eighties and the nineties, things that were like really influential for gay cinema that no one talks about. And you know, I'd like to talk about not just those movies but how they got made and stuff like that. I would love to do something like that.

I swear on my mother's grave that there will be no copying people, no copying pasting. Every source will be cited in a document and on screen. ‘Cause I usually liked doing the research. I loved doing research - reading the books and articles and stuff like that. I- the part of me that was lazy was the copy and paste part. Instead of just putting it into my words and citing them properly and giving them credit… that's where the laziness came in. That was- I wasn't trying to be malicious. That was just laziness. And I promise for anyone who does watch the videos that I make going forward… I promise that will never happen again. I welcome the highest level of scrutiny on the new videos.

…

As for Patreon, I’m going to reactivate it. Because I saw a lot of people on social media saying that I was probably going to reactivate it right on January 1st so that everyone could get a surprise billing and I could take the money and run. And, no. First of all that was never my plan and I'm not gonna do it. I'm gonna reactivate it now so that anyone who wants to leave - which I imagine will be the vast majority - can leave and not have to worry about being billed again in January.

… Yeah. So. In closing. I'm again incredibly sorry... And again I'm not sorry because I was caught, I honestly didn't know how much I was hurting people… and how much harm I was bringing to the community, because that's not ever what I intended. I wanted the channel to be a safe place. I spent so much time deleting comments that were hateful

I recently found out that I wasn't being notified about- that I wasn’t seeing comments that were in replies to other comments so there were plenty of hateful comments in the comment section that were plenty hateful that I wasn’t seeing, and I didn't know that. But I wanted the channel to be a safe place and it ended up not being a safe place.

And for the misinformation, that kind of falls into two categories. 1. I did the wrong research in the historical things and other things they're not what I wrote.

Again, thank you to Hbomberguy and his team for making the fund for the writers. I'd like to try to contribute to that somehow so- if- if it's okay to make the videos public and send all of the- public and send all- it won't be all of videos ‘cause some of them had to be taken down because sponsors wanted them taken down, but I can put the videos back up with the sources properly put in either- for the I guess for the videos that would be going up from zero, I could actually put in sources for the videos, which would be good.

I guess I could- For the other ones that would just be made live again, I could put them in a pinned comment. ‘Cause I think people read pinned comments more than they read the descriptions, cause like the descriptions disappear in a lot of places. Something like that. Something so that I can try and- it won't make up for what I did but just. Something.

So I’m really really really sorry. I hurt a lot of people that I really respect and that really sucks. And. Nick if you're watching this I know you're probably not but I miss you and…

Yeah I want to do better. I want- I want to do better. I want to prove that I can do better. I don't expect anyone to just give me the benefit of the doubt. But I want to show that I can do better, so I hope you'll let me do that.

Again, I'm really sorry. I'm sorry that the things I did- I'm sorry that I disappointed you. I promise going forward I will do better.

Thanks for watching, and...

…

And I’m really sorry.

#james somerton #hbomberguy plagiarism video #plagiarism and you(tube)#james somerton apology video #of course it's badly written he had to write it himself for once

111 notes · View notes

briarberrythornedhart · 2 months ago

Text

Courage is a Prerequisite

CW: Eddie being kinda a jerk to reader at first, Aged up Characters, reference to nude pictures, mostly fluff, no smut

Eddie Munson/You

Word count: 1615

⚔️ ⚔️ ⚔️

You found that cursed flyer in the Roane County Community College Library, tacked to the bulletin board.

You joined the group with some hesitation, but they were mostly cool.

Mostly dudes, quite a few graduates from Hawkin’s High, and a few current high school seniors. Including, your favorite - Dustin Henderson - the adorable little brother you always wished for.

Dustin was funny and welcoming and had a way of knowing (like magic) how to shut down arguments among the party. He was the social director for the group. Always throwing parties for everyone’s birthdays and organizing secret gift exchanges and creating sign up sheets for potlucks. He had a gift for getting people to be involved and do things.

Dustin could even influence the group’s Dungeon Master.

Eddie was 25 years old, a mechanic by day, a gifted lead guitarist every other Friday, an artist, whip-smart, and devastatingly hot but SOOOOO Annoying!!

Somehow Dustin had figured out how to make Eddie Munson (who absolutely still complained everytime) to come to these other events and on time and with his assigned snacks.

Eddie was respectful as a Dungeon Master but out of game, sometimes, he was just mean to you for no goddam reason. Sometimes he would be all teasy-flirty with you and then make fun of you if you flirted back.

The third session you attended maybe dressed up a bit (just to look cute) maybe a little to get his attention. Eddie looked you over and called you a ‘dirty slut’. He was ‘joking’ or whatever... when you got angry he said he meant the outfit looked hot (not you though - specifically your outfit) and he was “sorry for joking around” but ever since you had been holding this grudge...

Anyway - Dickish DM aside - the group was great.

⚔️ ⚔️ ⚔️

About two months into the current Campaign (and 2 dead characters - murdered by the dick DM in collusion with your bad die rolls), at the end of a long but admittedly exciting game night, everyone was packing up to go.

Jeff and Eddie were in a heated argument about who would win in a fight between Captain Kirk and Han Solo.

But you stopped listening to that silliness because Dustin approached you, “Can I ask for some advice?”

Aww - he came to you for advice. It warmed your heart that he wanted to open up to you about his worries. He was such a cutie-goober. Equal parts of both.

“Suzie’s mad at me,” he sighed.

“What’d you do?” You asked. Because little-dude was a Goober. And Suzie was pretty easy-going from what you could tell.

Dustin looked uncomfortable, and he near-whispered, “We were sending dot matrix converted pictures of each other - our school pictures - through web email and I asked if she would show me something... lower.”

“Dustin.” The rebuke in your voice was mild. As was the offense in your opinion. They’d been together (long distance) for years, you’d have asked for naughty pictures too in that situation.

You still clicked your tongue at him, though.

“I know, I know,” he took off his ball cap and ran his hands through his long curly hair, “... but I can’t help wondering... you know upstairs-outsidies is as far as we got at Camp Know Where and I said I want her to be my girl and she said ‘forever’ and so...”

“The ‘net is a wild place right now, man, that’s a crazy trust exercise for you to ask for! What if someone hacks in and takes the pictures?!” You shook your head at the audacity.

“Or my mom could find them printed out. I know, I know and I apologized and told her I'd keep my hormones in check - but I don’t think she’s forgiven me and she’s just so pretty and I love her - and I don’t want her to be mad at me anymore for being a stereotypical gross hornball dude.”

“I don’t think she’s mad at you for wanting to see her naked. I know she’s in that very religious *cough Cult* household but like Guys don’t have a monopoly on hormones and desire and shit.” You tapped your pencil with the troll eraser topper against your cheek pondering this... “Personally, I’d feel more comfortable mailing polaroids of my body than sending them in electronic mail. It feels safer...”

A familiar voice danced into your ears. “Oh, would you?? Is there a mailing list I should sign up for?” Of course DM Eddie was eavesdropping and interrupting players, his favorite pastimes.

“This is an A and B conversation, Munson, you can C your way out of it.” You snarked.

“I don’t think so, Sweetheart. Ya’ see - Dustin is asking for advice from You,” he narrowed his eyes and leaned in - it would be menacing if he wasn’t equal parts goofy and pretty - those freckles across his pretty face..., “ You - our newest member, and I’ve known Dustin longer - I’m gonna have a better understanding of his whole situation.” He cocked his head forward and his hair flew around - it was so stupid pretty.. .Annoying. It was so Annoying. “I’ve got seniority here, dollface.” he looked back and forth between you. “So what’s the situation?”

Dustin cleared his throat to start explaining but you forced a laugh and put up a finger in the air, “I wouldn’t ask Munson to advise me out of a wet paper bag.”

Eddie made a noise between a scoff and a hurt gasp but his eyes sparkled. “I would never give Dustin bad advice.” he looked at Dustin, “Didn’t I help you THIS session, to avoid pissing off that Djinni prince??”

“Of course you know the answers In Game when you are a Big Bad Serious DM.” You put your hands on your hips. “This is real life. Dustin doesn’t want to mess things up with Suzie.”

“Wait? Is Suzie a real person?” Eddie smirked. This was a common bit- the whole group (with yourself, Will, and Mike as the notable exceptions) teased Dustin about his long distance girlfriend not being real. Of course they hadn’t been in chat rooms with her like you had. She had a LOT of personality and no AI was that sophisticated...

yet.

Dustin didn’t even dignify the jab with a response. He just looked at you with pain in his eyes. “So, how do I make her forgive me?”

“You don’t.” You said. And both guys looked like you slapped their individual faces (!). “I mean, you can’t MAKE someone forgive you, Dustin! You need to be brave. You can only work to figure out what really happened, then apologize - a real apology that shows understanding of her feelings and concerns - and promise to do better. And I think she doesn’t want to hear you say you are ‘sorry for wanting to see her naked’ because that’s probably not what pissed her off and ... it’s not true, is it?”

Dustin nodded. “Yeah. Okay, okay, I can do that.” Clearly listening and processing this, “Hey - can I get a ride home?”

“I’d love to, Buddy, but my car is broken again.” You shrugged. “I biked.”

“What’d you do to her now??” Eddie groused.

“Nothing!! she’s just old.” You snapped.

“You need to do regular maintenance, I’ve told you this before - fer cryin’ out loud! Is the engine smoking again?” Eddie griped.

“Yes - Eddie! You Know I can’t afford regular oil changes. Not at the rate you recommend.”

Dustin cleared his throat. “Eddie, can you drive us both home?” He smiled with his little brother energy and Eddie replied,

“Of course, dude, grab your stuff.” And to you. “You coming?” All weird and stilted like he didn’t want to give you a ride and You’d Honestly Rather not impose and subject yourself to more of his BS, but It was Raining.

Eddie helped you heft your bike into the back of his van. He wouldn’t make eye contact with you though.

Dustin kept you both on safe-non-argument-inducing topics on the ride to his place. But then you were alone with Eddie. So it was inevitable that he would start some shit with you.

He licked his upper lip and turned towards you in the back. “Can you come up here, please, I’ll feel less like your chauffeur.”

“You’d make a terrible chauffeur.” You said conversationally as you got into the front and sank into the plush seat, crossing your arms over your chest.

Eddie looked like he was gonna start a fight with you again but then sighed, drooped, his hair falling in his face. “I’m... sorry.”

Did he just say that?? Really??

“I’m sorry I said you looked like a dirty slut.” His words were suddenly coming at you like a verbal deluge. Drowning you in sincerity?? He was capable of Sincerity?? “I’m sorry... that I said ... that I was joking. What I should have said is... I always think you look hot and it’s distracting sometimes when I’m trying to be a big bad serious DM, and you are in these tight jeans and shit and I don’t want... to fight with you anymore. I want us to be close. Like you and Dustin apparently are. Friends. If you can be friends with a guy who finds you attractive. Please. I’ll... I’ll do better.”

He turned toward you and his eyes were so big and pretty. His sexy lips were saying impossible things. Maybe you hit your head earlier and are currently passed out or this is a dream or...

“I promise. I can be a good friend. I can.” He sounded a tad unsure.

“Eddie, I can't just be friends with you. I’m into you. I’m totally bonkers crazy about you.”

“Oh.” For a moment he looked confused. Still sad. Contemplative.

And then the trademark smirk came back. “So, that means you want to be more than friends with me?”

#stranger things #Eddie Munson x Reader #enemies to lovers #eddie munson fluff #alt universe #mechanic!eddie #my writing #not beta read

27 notes · View notes