#everything I wrote this weekend was sad and I needed something

[setsugekka]

❥business attire (m)

↳ You have no qualms with doing what it takes to get ahead professionally: a white lie here, a bit of cheating there—sleeping with your boss? Simple.

Until a business trip with a rival colleague puts quite a wrench into all of that.

bang chan x fem!reader — colleagues/rivals to lovers, romcom, porn with plot, explicit sexual content. [12k wc] cws: alcohol drinking, themes of sexism in the work place!!, penetrative sex, body cum shot, oral sex (m+f), dirty talking (very mild condescension/humiliation), teasing, chan has a big dick of course because i wrote this.

Everything has led up to this moment.

Years of studying, internships, exams; grueling schedules and lost hours of sleep, not even accounting for the people stepped over and lost along the way. You had made the decision long ago that you were willing to do whatever it would take to make it to the top, to achieve the kind of success that you knew was waiting for you somewhere out and into the future.

You're no stranger to the CEO's office, all shining and glittering gold with accents and glossed, white marble, though you do have to admit, you're not used to being here with a third, as far as company is concerned.

No, typically you find yourself here in the later hours of the evening, partaking in a particular set of extra curricular activities that you know will bargain your way up the professional ladder. Ethical? Questionable. Do you care? Not even a little bit.

Granted, you can't imagine the other guy—Chris—to feel similarly about your leg-up on him, as it were.

Your colleague in question stands beside you with hands behind his back like he's a child waiting to hear his grades called out by the teacher. It's a little charming, you've got to admit, though nothing if not sad given the fact that he's awaiting something that was never really going to be offered to him to begin with.

And you don't know anything about this guy because you don't tend to bother learning much of anything about the people surrounding you in your workplace, outside of the smallest inkling of weaknesses that can be used to your advantage. Susan in accounting, for example, one to have something of an issue with getting to work on time in the mornings; no problem, the time clocks can be easily forged to make up for the discrepancy.

Except, of course, for the fact that it's against company policy to do so, and an offense that can find one terminated in an instant—it certainly was a shame the evening that the CEO had come to find out about that, after a bottle of wine and a particularly enthusiastic blowjob from you.

But Chris keeps to himself, and if not for this meeting here, you'd not even know his name. He works on business contact profiles not unlike yourself, which makes him someone that sits directly in your crosshair. You glance over his features for a brief second—his high nose bridge and his full lips, and acknowledge that he's sort of handsome for someone that you have to destroy the will of today. Well, it's not you destroying it, though you've more than put in the work to ensure it to happen.

The CEO of the company brings his attention up from the paper work laid out in front of him and finally grants it to the both of you. Your eyes meet with his in an instant and you try to bite back the knowing grin of victory that threatens to pull at the corners of your lips. Be mature about this, you think to yourself. Humility not a strong suit of yours, sure, but no need to rub it all into the wound.

"There's a massive account that needs an exquisite set of eyes and ears on it this coming weekend, this kind of business trip is the type that makes or breaks a company, a supervisor of the company." The man pauses, eyes falling back down to the papers as he shuffles them about lightly across the desk. "So, you understand that the utmost sensitivity and attention to detail is necessary when deciding who it is to send out on these sorts of things, but in the event of a net gain, then it's easy to understand that the trickle down effect is one that can be felt by everyone involved."

You smile, this time unable to hold it back.

He continues. "The success of this means the immediate success of the supervisor involved."

Then, he looks up to the both of you.

"Which is why I have decided to send the both of you out, and based on the return, I will make a decision in relation to who will be the benefactor."

Your eyes widen, smile falling, and in the moment you find yourself incapable of holding your feelings of unjust back.

"What? What do you mean you're sending both of us? What benefit could me or the company see in having this guy tag along?"

"Hey?" Chris cuts in, a little wounded. You ignore him for the most part.

"Chris does good work, has proven himself on numerous occasions. I think the two of you will work just fine together, and if that's not the case, then consider it a friendly workplace competition to get the fires really burning for results."

Jaw clenched and teeth gritted tightly, you take a step towards the man happily seated in his position of taking, and dare to point a finger out towards him.

"I've earned this."

But to that, a knowing, shit-eating grin pulls at a single corner of his mouth. An understanding of this, of the anger you're feeling and where it's coming from and how absolutely fruitless it will be.

"Have you?" he questions lightly, a disgusting chime in his tone that makes your stomach turn. His eyes drop back down to the desk, not bothering to even look at you for the following question. "And how is it that you've done that, exactly?"

Freezing in place, even just the question mortifies you. Chris' being there feels far too illuminating now in comparison to the emptiness that he carried before, and you know that this man knows that you are incapable of answering that as diligently as you may like to.

But still, the both of you know.

You close your eyes slowly, exhale steadily and try to center yourself into something more professional once more. "I've worked incredibly hard for this kind of opportunity, sir."

"And so has Chan! Sorry, I mean Chris. I'm afraid we spend so much time together leisurely that I often forget to address you properly in a professional setting nowadays!"

What's worse than the initial blow of this knowledge dawning upon you is the way that the man beside you laughs, like it's the funniest thing in the world that you're being made a fool of in front of these men. Granted, he doesn't know—does he know?—regardless, the humiliation toiling in your gut twists unrelentingly whether your colleague is privy or not.

You don't get a chance to respond before the man who has wronged you continues on with the thought, however.

"You are still getting the opportunity, it's just that you're sharing it with someone else. If your work continues to shine above and beyond your peers, then you have nothing to worry about, now do you?"

It takes everything you have inside of you not to snarl out a reply. "Yes, sir. I'll see to it getting done."

"Excellent news! You and Chan are set to leave tomorrow, a red-eye to Los Angeles for three days. I trust that the two of you can have it settled in that time?"

"Yes, sir," the both of you reply in unison, and even just that twists like a dagger in your back.

The airport terminal is busy, too much, for your liking.

There are perks to being in such places, though, and you choose to revel in those small things. No one is interested in you or what you're doing. No one around you cares about your immaculately pressed garment or the fact that your luggage is slightly scuffed. They pay you no mind as you look up from your phone and towards the screen sitting atop the gate entrance as you await your boarding signal.

"Hey."

You sigh aloud at the simple word, easily recognizing the voice that carries it through the crowds. Glancing to your other side, your colleague stands with phone and luggage in hand; a suit jacket just ill-fitting enough that it perturbs you that much more.

So, you don't reply. Chris sits next to you and settles his belongings in such a haphazard way that it grates on your nerves—much like everything that he seems to do, does—and you silently await for him to make his presence unknown to you for what you hope to be the rest of the near week that the two of you are forced to spend together.

Not so lucky, however.

"I think it's going to be good that we're working on this together," he says cheerfully. Annoyingly. "By the way, you can call me Chan. Chris is so formal and professional."

"Well, Chris, we are workplace colleagues, so it only makes sense that we remain professional," you respond.

He leans in towards you, "Our work place isn't that professional, I'm sure you've noticed."

You don't like the sound of that, though it could very well be more of your hurt feelings and humiliation taking the driver's seat. Thus, you temper the anger that threatens to burst out at what you think could be certain implications and simply meet his eyes with a glare.

"So I have."

Chris, Chan, whatever—leans back in his seat, crosses his arms over his chest before continuing on with the thought that you don't care to hear more of but know you're going to be prisoned with, regardless.

"I think we can learn a lot from one another during this."

"And what is it that I can learn from you that I've not yet gathered from years of study, internships, and work in the field? Do you think it's an accident that I've landed myself so far up the corporate ladder?"

His head cocks to the side, and for a moment, you think it to be daringly condescending.

"No, but it's no accident that I've landed myself here, either."

You roll your eyes and focus down on the phone in hand.

"The truth of the matter is that in a lot of cases, the best way to get ahead is to take everyone else down around you," he carries on, voice dropping down to something more akin to a whisper. "Playing nice only gets you so far."

The snort of a laugh that escapes you is so quick you don't have a chance in fighting it back.

"If you think you're going to be conniving enough to wrestle this out of my hands, then I'm afraid you've been paired up against the wrong adversary," you reply. "Better, stronger, smarter men than you have tried, and failed."

Chan's eyebrows perk at that, like he's amused by the comeback. There's a part of you that appreciates the fact that he doesn't immediately wither in the shadow of your toughness, though you're far from desiring a fight for this trip as it carries on, either. Withering, in some cases, might be best.

"You don't know anything about me, yet you're so willing to assume I'm unworthy of the challenge of taking you on. Unfortunately for you, I love a good, friendly competition."

To that, you huff out yet another mildly amused laugh.

"It will be anything but friendly."

The flight to Los Angeles gives you plenty of time to conjure up a game plan, not that you think you're going to need anything all that involved to conquer your adversary.

Chan enjoys the in-flight entertainment alongside of you as you do—laughs along to the film that he's watching and orders himself a drink to truly settle in. You do neither. Instead, you crack open your laptop and mull over the numerous documents and spreadsheets of information that you'll want to know like the back of your hand by the time that you land.

As well as how best to handle him.

Thankfully, your colleague seems whimsically dim despite your earlier conversation in the airport. He talks a big game as far as a competition and winning is to be concerned, but you rack your brain trying to recall a time in which his name has ever come up at work previously; no accolades, no parties thrown, no cheers for a job well done. In fact, the majority of those moments have been granted to you, and incredibly hard-earned, at that.

But, you have to give it to him: he doesn't appear frightened by you. Chalk that up to naivete, sexism, or stupidity—you couldn't care less which pin it is that he lands on, because either way, the outcome will be the same.

So sure of himself, and yet nothing to show for it besides a bizarrely personal relationship with the CEO. Well, you have that, too.

With the way that things have played out, you want to call things off, however. This man back at the office has humiliated you and taken from you but not held up his end of the bargain. Is it worth it to continue carrying on? Will it harm your career if you don't? Probably best to maintain the status quo as far as sexual endeavors go. Besides, the sex isn't half bad, either.

When you and Chan land in Los Angeles it's far too early for your liking and with how little sleep you are now on, but the thrum of the bustling, awaiting city excites you. This opportunity is going to be everything—is going to grant you everything—and in all likelihood, you wouldn't be able to sleep if you were to try.

Chan attempts to take your bags from you once you're both walking the busy halls of LAX and you fight him off with every try. He smiles and laughs and rolls his eyes at your unwillingness to cooperate, but this is no comical matter to you. Little does he know how close to danger he sits at every passing moment.

One taxi down and making your way to the hotel, Chan rushes his way out of the car and around to the back so that you have no hope in fighting him this time. He is so insufferable, you think to yourself, though you can't deny yourself the joy of having him hauling your luggage about. Good, perhaps you will be useful to me, after all. 

The hotel is a lavish one; all white marble, silver accenting and lush green foliage at every turn. You're thankful for that much, because in so many ways there is nowhere else that you wish to be less than here.

You spot a bar down the corridor just a bit and make a mental note of it, as you may be spending ample time there when not constructing the professional downfall of your idiot colleague. In that moment, Chan forces himself into your line of vision with a wide grin and nods his head over towards the elevator.

"Floor seven," he says, handing you one of the room keys.

You look at it, sitting thoughtfully placed inside of its red paper envelope with a number written on in gold ink. Then, you glance at his, still remaining in his hand.

The same number.

"We don't have separate rooms?" you question, though you're capable enough to already know the answer to such an asinine question. Thus, you move onto the next most obvious one. "Why don't we have separate rooms?"

"There's two beds, it's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal," you all but shout, forcing the tail end of your anger back as to maintain a semblance of professionality. "We need to go back down and get this sorted out. I'll handle it."

Chan laughs under his breath, watching the number on the LED change as the elevator rises.

"You won't be sorting anything out. There's about five major conferences in the area this weekend and this place is heavily booked, as is everywhere else decent in the region. You're just going to have to put your big girl pants on and deal with it."

You don't know Los Angeles well enough to hide a body. Unfortunate.

Though your fingers tingle and your head throbs, you don't bother fighting the fact any further. You are a logical woman, and you're perfectly capable of understanding the concept of there being no further vacancy in a hotel. Thus, you sigh, clench your jaw, and drop it altogether.

When the elevator stops with a ding, you couldn't feel more relieved. You rush out from between the metal doors so quickly that you nearly shoulder it as it continues its momentum. Down the hall and pausing in front of your shared, temporary residence, you press the key to the reader and push inside without even so much as a thought about where Chan is or how he is fairing with the baggage load that he has taken upon himself to deal with.

The door nearly shuts him out, a leg craned in through the crack as he fights it without a word to you for help.

It is spacious. Bright and clean and smells of new linens like no one prior to the two of you has ever actually stayed in here before. The bathroom is large and pristine in the way that it glitters. A wide enough working space with two chairs and not nearly enough coffee offered straight away—though that's a simple enough fix as far as you are concerned.

"Pretty nice!"

Ah. You had nearly forgotten about him, but Chan always has a way of making his presence known. He hands you your bag and you pull it over towards the side of the bed that faces the large window, blinds drawn. Reaching towards them, Chan offers up his expertise once again.

"They said there's a balcony."

"Surely I could have gathered as much for myself."

He rolls his eyes and sits on the edge of his bed, intent on unpacking. You continue on towards the balcony, pulling the fabric away and gazing out through the massive, glass panes. 

It's Los Angeles. Not a whole lot to offer as far as views go in the major city areas, but suppose it will have to do.

"We should get dinner tonight. Look over our plan of action for the next couple of days with these clients and get to know one another a little bit better." Chan isn't looking at you while he says it, but you can hear the hopefulness in the sound of his voice without necessarily seeing it on his face. "Besides, it's on company dime, might as well go all-out!"

While the idea of spending somewhat intimate, one-on-one time with this man is not something that excites you, suppose what does excite you is the possibility of putting your devilish little plan of hostile take-over into action. Unfortunately, what this also means for your future, is something that will be much, much more difficult than simply defeating him.

Being nice.

"Yeah, that sounds good, actually." You hope the sudden change in your demeanor doesn't raise any red flags in his mind, but you don't think him to be smart enough to consider the fact. "There was a nice looking place downstairs in the lobby, maybe we should go there."

"Perfect!"

He's so happy that it almost makes you feel guilty about the whole thing.

Chan continues on. "It's early and I've got a few things I want to get ahead on. I'll get out of here so that you can sleep, just in case that's what you'd like to do, but feel free to send me a message if you need me for anything. I'll just be downstairs."

He's so kind. How unfortunate.

"I will, thank you."

Chan grabs his work bag and scurries out of the shared room. How disastrous this whole thing is for him, a monumental case of wrong place, wrong time. 

Dinner is good, but your trickery is far more delicious.

There's a stack of envelopes with paperwork inside of them sitting on the edge of the relatively small table, barely enough room for it now that entrees and glasses of wine have been poured, but now that the business portion of the evening has come to a close, the two of you are able to enjoy the perks that going on these sorts of trips often has to offer.

Chan sits ahead of you with a glass full of white wine and a nicer tie than the one he arrived with. He looks handsome–that, you can't deny—though it's something that will have to sit ignored in the back of your mind with far more important matters to consider. 

"Are you seeing anyone?"

You're lost in your thoughts when he asks the question suddenly, and it jars you back into the present moment with what you imagine to be an incredibly evident startle.

"I'm not sure that's any of your business," you reply quickly, but on second thought, you remember that your plan is to reel him in. Thus, you amend the response. "No, I'm not. I'm much too wrapped up with my career for that."

Chan pouts, like he's sad about it for you. "Still, it gets lonely, yeah?"

He looks and sounds sincere in a way that you're not expecting, and suppose a little honesty won't completely hinder your end goal.

"It does, sometimes, but that's what I've chosen. Once I'm comfortable with where I am professionally, then I'll carve out time for dating." You look up at him, pointing your fork straight at him, "this isn't some thinly veiled commentary about how I'm getting too old to find someone, is it?"

And though you're somewhat joking in saying it, horror strikes through each and every one of Chan's facial features upon hearing the words.

"What? Oh, no! God, no! I was just thinking that working long hours like we do can be isolating, so it might be nice to have someone to go home to at the end of it all, you know?"

You do know.

"It's not that I don't get out and meet people, do things," you say, taking a sip from your glass to wash away the humiliation of honesty that lingers in your throat. "They're just not…long term acquaintances, if you will."

Chan grins knowingly, and you don't particularly like that look on him. As if you've not been the one giving up the information freely to get him to this point.

"Ah, I see," he says in an exhale and an accompanying nod, "just enough to keep the bed warm next to you sometimes, huh? I'm no stranger to that arrangement, myself."

This is far more information than you find you ever need to know about any of your colleagues, though the same could be said about anything at all regarding their personal lives. Spouses, kids, pets, what kind of car they drive; it's all more information than you care to know about any of them, though you can't help but feel the sizzle of intrigue inside of your chest at his willingness to offer up such particularly intimate knowledge in regards to his late night activities.

Perhaps playing with this guy will be more fun than originally considered.

And thus, you take something of a gamble in relation.

"To be honest with you, I've been seeing someone casually for a while, though I'm not sure if that arrangement is working out for me any longer."

Both of you take another sip from your glasses, but Chan's gaze lingers on you for an especially lengthy amount of time. He sets his glass down calmly on the table, sighs aloud, and then settles himself casually against the back of the chair.

"I know you've been sleeping with the CEO."

You are thankful to no longer be in the middle of your drink, because you'd certainly be choking on the swallow right about now.

There's an attempt to maintain your composure—something that you're quite adept at—though in situations like this you have far less experience in doing so. You're not quite sure whether or not the shock is obvious across your face, but it certainly feels like it is.

No point in lying, the both of you are already here, after all.

"Is that so." Not a question, a statement.

Chan shrugs, all nonchalant in a way that you don't really appreciate, either.

"Yeah, he let it slip one of the nights we were out late playing darts with the guys from the office. Sounded a bit like he was boasting, like I was supposed to be impressed with him for it, or something."

"I take it you're not the only one who knows then?"

"Nah, I don't think he told everyone. It was a moment where we were alone, I don't really know why he told me. I was just like, that's great, man, and then we started talking about the game."

Slumping into your chair, it's the first time you've felt well and truly defeated, and especially when it comes to any and all matters such as these. While you're not ashamed of the lengths gone through in order to attain what it is that you intend to attain, it is far from ideal for the entire office to be aware of it.

"Amazing, you didn't even have to sleep with him to get put on this assignment," you sigh, arms crossing over your chest. "Suppose I look foolish now."

"I don't really care about that, about you doing whatever you think you need to do to get ahead in life. If you want to sleep with our boss to do that then that's your prerogative," Chan says, tone simplistic and plain. "Where I do care is that you seem to be under the impression that you're the only person in the office who is worthy of anything, and that no one else is working hard in order to achieve anything. I am, we are, just most of us aren't going to the same lengths that you are."

A beat of silence passes between you, and in perfect timing, the waiter comes with the check and disappears just as swiftly. Once he disappears from the table side, Chan leans forward, dropping his volume even more in a way that expresses so wholly that the next words spoken are truly only meant for you.

"I've seen your work, I know you have what it takes to be a top executive in this company, and that's without all of the extra shit like fucking some rich scumbag who's just going to turn around and throw the fact back in your face." He leans back again, signs the receipt, and then begins reaching for the stack of papers. "But you're not the only one who works hard and puts in crazy hours to earn a place here. Let's work this case like the team we're meant to be, get it done like I know that we can, and shove it in that asshole's face once we get back."

It's a plan that seems so pleasant on the surface: working together with a colleague who you now have nothing to hide from, who knows all of your dirty little professional secrets and still appears to respect you in spite of it. 

You watch Chan pack all of the belongings into a briefcase and can't help but wonder, why don't you care? Why would someone in direct competition with you not seem to be bothered by the fact that you're extending yourself well beyond a professional setting in order to no longer have to compete with him on equal footing?

Rather, you can't help but feel as though the tone of the conversation has taken a turn, almost as though Chan respects you and your work ethic more after the discussion of it all. With everything laid out onto the table, this man knows and understands you in a way that no one else really does, and beyond all of it—he still sees you. He sees how important all of this is, how you're capable of doing just about anything to achieve your purpose no matter how looked down upon it often is, and no matter how humiliating it has thus turned out to be.

Chan just sees you.

"We have an early morning tomorrow, I know these guys are going to want us there at least twenty minutes before the time, so we should plan to have our coffee and look over the documents well before we're meant to arrive."

You glance up at him as he stands, baggage in hand and a smile that says all of the very same things you've just come to realize about him. It's back to normal, like nothing has happened, no conversation about any ethically questionable goings on has even taken place.

Back to regularly scheduled programming.

And you kind of like that.

Twenty minutes early becomes thirty minutes, due to your insistence. With a coffee in hand and perfectly manicured nails, you step out from one of the back doors of the taxi and leave the dealing with briefcases and paperwork to the guy who insists on going above and beyond to make himself useful to you. Good.

It's an early morning, but you find some comfort in that. Los Angeles never really turns off, but at least for now the sidewalks and streets are just a bit quieter than they will be at any other hour of the day. The weather is beautiful—perfectly breezy in just the right amount, with the sun coyly peeking through the clouds edges up above—and you can't help but think to yourself, no way that this day could possibly go wrong for me.

The office building that the two of you stand in front of is nothing special, as far as appearances go. Most in the surrounding area look much the same; worn down from the elements and barely seeing any architectural upkeep, but the spinning, glass front doors standing just a few paces ahead tell a different story of the interior. In ways, it brings a sort of feeling of the illuminated beauty of your professional future, standing between you, and there.

You're in your best set of dress. Black and white with a long skirt fitted just right. Chan is much of the same beside you in his immaculately tailored jacket, accentuating the wide slope of his shoulders and sleeves cutting off perfectly at his wrists.

He turns to look at you, and then smiles with a cute cock of his head.

"Ready to smash it?"

And not that you needed the added boost, but hearing the words vocalized from him adds just that much more fuel to your fire.

You nod. "Absolutely."

Hands are shaken and pleasantries exchanged once you and Chan are invited upstairs and into a large, white conference room that feels far too sterline and uninhabited for your liking. The place feels open, yet uninviting in a way that grates on your nerves and incites the kind of anxiety that you've not felt in these situations for many, many years.

One positive, is that the three men that you're meant to be working with today seem relatively uninterested in you, particularly. From one head of the table, you set your coffee down and begin unpacking a briefcase full of paperwork, envelopes, and a laptop crammed full of numbers and offerings and statistics meant to make this a home run. You know that it will be, you believe wholly that it will, but as you glance up and across what feels to be an impossibly long table towards the grouping of men chuckling and laughing amongst themselves, you can't help but feel something else that you've not felt in such a long time.

The all-encompassing suffocation of male cliquiness. 

The Boys Club. They exist in so many spaces, and far from unheard of in your particular line of work. You watch on—particularly at Chan—as he smiles and laughs along with men that take absolutely no interest in you, your work, or what you bring to the table. They all playfully slap each other's arms and nod along to their stupid jokes like they've been best friends since the playground, and you are left out of it entirely.

Once you're settled, you stare at them and their childishness for what feels like an eternity, until finally you decide upon being the bad guy and taking matters into your own hands.

You clear your throat, "mind if we get started?"

The laughter stops dead in its tracks, all joy seemingly sucked out of the room at a lightning quick pace, and the men slowly turn to grant you their obvious looks of abject disapproval.

Though, you can't help but wonder which part they are disapproving of, exactly; be it the fact that it is time to begin the meeting, or the fact that a woman has the audacity to tell them as much.

Still, they follow suit without a disgruntled word. Chan makes his way around the table to meet you where you stand, but as the two of you meet eyes, he nods at you. The quiet insistence for you to take the lead. Not that you had any plans otherwise.

So, you do. With the laptop hooked up and the projection upon the wall, you begin going over statistics for the men to look over, take in, eventually discuss amongst themselves. It's easy work for you, knowing all of this information and all of the inner workings of your profession like the back of your hand.

One man raises a hand slightly into the air, a pen perched between his fingers as he nods towards the projector.

"What was the annual turnover for 2019 and how did that impact the immediate years going forward?"

He is looking at Chan when he asks the question, though your colleague has not said a word the entire time. You want to be better than the urge to present yourself in a way unbecoming of women in your position, because you know that anything you do can be interpreted as such, but the anger and desire for hostility gets the better of you when you reply back to him.

"2.3%, and the impact was minimal, easily dealt with internally with very little felt as a result of it throughout other sectors of the company."

The man asking raises his eyebrows, as if surprised by the fact that you have spoken. You've swallowed down your pride that would come out as far more aggressive than simply answering the question, so if he has an issue with you doing so now, you know precisely what to chalk it up as.

He turns to look at his colleagues first, then his attention falls back to you with a foul curl to the corner of his lips.

"I asked him," he says, pointing his pen at Chan. "Not you."

To this, Chan reels physically. You're not looking at him, not paying him any mind in particular, but you can see as much out of the corner of your eye from where he stands beside you. Now, your eyebrows perk up at the insidiousness of what's so outwardly and openly taking place here, but not so willing to take it on as a defeat just yet.

"With all due respect," you reply, calm and unshaken as you can be. Practiced, throughout the years. "I've been working at this company for six years, been through the lowest of the lows and had a personal hand in ensuring that it reached its highest of highs. While my colleague is knowledgeable and well-respected, this meeting is being led by me, so I would appreciate it if any questions be directed as such."

This feels good. Far from the first time you've had to stick up for yourself in such a way, you exhale the nerves through a semi-shaken breath and settle yourself where you stand. You're still not looking at him, but you do notice the fought back creeping of a smile across his lips.

The joys of victory end quickly, however.

Another man speaks up, this one seated across the way from the first indignant fellow.

"With all due respect," he begins, mocking you. "I believe I speak for all of the men in the room when I say that the only questions we're particularly interested in asking you relate to the snugness of your skirt around your hips and ass, and if there are ever questions relating back to the professional aspect of this engagement, we will be addressing your colleague."

The mixture of emotions that course through you is electric, impossible to parse through and pick just one out to focus on. Anxiety, anger, humiliation, regret, terror, sadness; they all rage through your nerves. Your skin feels hot, a sort of dizziness coming in on you quickly that you don't appreciate, because now is not the time to be experiencing weakness. Your lips part to speak, still unsure of what to even say. Flabbergasted, you attempt to find the words—some words—to fire back at these horrible men, but your mind feels simultaneously full and empty. How can that be. 

A woman who prides herself on being the best and brightest in the room, dwindled down to nothing at the hands of useless, pathetic men who bring nothing to the table besides those already aforementioned.

"Alright, let's not get out of hand," Chan says, cutting in through the awkward silence. This appears to appease the men, which you dislike even more though you understand his reasoning for doing it. "My colleague is very well-respected in her profession and incredibly knowledgeable. Perhaps it would be best if we make quick work of wrapping this up and heading off on our separate ways."

For the rest of the meeting, Chan takes the lead. The men down the way open up splendidly, laugh and have a wonderful time with another man in charge, saying all of the same things you had said, reading off of all of the sheets of information that you compiled, that you slaved away at for weeks, for months at a time. Countless late nights with nothing more than the television for company in the background and a frozen pizza in the oven in order to make sure that you will never, ever be the recipient of the kinds of unreasonable lashings that you have taken on today.

All for nothing.

You don't dare speak another word, and sit in the shadow cast by your colleague. When the meeting concludes, the business men are happy; smiling and laughing along with any and everything Chan says. They love him. They love him not because he is knowledgeable, or good at his job in a way that is particularly extraordinary, but simply because he is not a woman. Simply because he is not you.

This sort of dichotomy has always existed, and in every facet of life, too. When buried into your work and the insular walls of your typical professional environment, suppose that it's easy to forget what it's like out here, in the real world. Where men do not respect you whether you're better than them or not, all in all, the result is the same, anyway.

Suppose the CEO has prepared you for this moment, a smaller humiliation only to set you up for one much larger and harder to swallow down the pain of.

Chan handles these men—the situation as a whole—as well as he can, you suppose. There is a kind of pain that settles in your chest at his unwillingness to turn it into a fight, though logically, you understand how pointless this might be for everyone involved. How short-lived the joy of bombing this meeting might be, only so that the suffering of your ego-death be even shorter-lived.

Just get in, and then get out, as relatively unscathed as you can manage. Chan has picked up the pieces left scattered around to the best of his ability and really, with flying colors. 

It does not change, however, the deeply nestled pain of being on the receiving end of such corrupt wrongdoings.

The taxi ride back to the hotel is silent, and you're thankful for the fact that Chan does not make so much as an attempt to say a word.

On the small table just beside you, there sits a tall, green bottle of wine with no glass to accompany it. You've decided against it, and that drinking straight from the source will suit you just fine as a consolation prize on the balcony tonight.

One of the charms of Los Angeles, you find, is the weather in the evenings. A cool breeze that gently carries over your features and through your hair as you stand against the railing and gaze out at the still-busy streets down below. There's a part of you that wishes to have the will to go out and enjoy the city on the last night here, and with your work responsibilities settled, but the mood of previous encounters still sits heavy on your chest, dampening any hope of enjoying yourself before your flight tomorrow morning.

Though many, long hours have passed since the morning, conversation between you and Chan have been few and far between. You understand it well enough as him, knowing the time and place to engage with a person after being so horrifically wronged, so when the glass door slowly slides open and he brings himself outside to join you, your heavy heart welcomes the intrusion, rather than resents it.

"Hey," he says, barely above a whisper. "Mind if I come out?"

Your smile is thin and straight, hardly able to be called such. "Sure, take a seat."

There's only one wobbly  wooden chair next to the table. A ridiculous design from all angles of consideration, but Chan doesn't bother arguing with you and slowly slinks himself down into what it has to offer him.

His hair is damp and freshly toweled off after a shower—loose curls sticking up every which way as if looking for a means to escape from his head. You smile at the sight, appreciate how approachable and kind he appears when he isn't done up in a professional setting like you're used to seeing. There's a realization that has dawned on you at some point during the day, though you have difficulty in pinpointing the precise time, where you come to accept your softening heart towards your colleague. 

Perhaps on account of your forced togetherness, perhaps aided by his willingness to diffuse a situation in what might have been the best way that he knew how in the moment. No, he didn't enact violence upon those men in that office space, and yes, it would have been nice to see, but solve something, it wouldn't have, and suppose all you had really hoped to do was escape further escalation as quietly as the situation would allow for, anyway.

"I'm sorry about what happened earlier." Chan is the first to speak up since seated, the first to bring up the whole thing since its having taken place. "It's so fucked. Simple, pathetic men with a chip on their shoulder who can't handle acknowledging that a woman is capable of doing their job, and more."

"Yeah," you sigh, turning towards him in an effort to grab the wine bottle once more. "Guess it's not anything I'm not used to, though it's been a long time since it's so blatantly been shoved in front of my face."

You take a large sip, and then laugh to yourself before continuing on with a similar thought.

"Actually, I guess that's not true, considering our boss pretty much did the same thing right before sending us out on this mission."

Turned to face him now, you watch Chan's features scrunch like he's fighting back the urge to speak his mind plainly, though evidently, it is a fight meant to be lost.

"Look, it's really none of my business what you do," he says, a seemingly rattled hand rushing to run fingers through his hair, "but do you really think it serves you to keep seeing that guy? God, he's such a fucking asshole, airing out your personal business to other colleagues and then waving it around in the office right before sending us on this trip—I wouldn't be surprised if those guys were friends of his, too. Birds of a feather, and all that, you know?"

Another sip, though now you're looking down at Chan with a kind of surprised gratitude. 

"No, I don't think it does, though it'll be mighty interesting finding out how navigating those professional waters will work out for me. Suppose that's the position I've put myself in, though."

It's then that Chan stands, all white bathrobe and silly hair that warms your heart as he closes much of the small amount of distance that previously would sit before the two of you. With this new, closer proximity, it's easier to take in the charming slope of his nose and the plump, pretty fullness of his lips.

"The only people in this equation who are wrong for what they've done is him, and those pieces of shit from this morning." He pauses—the both of you do—and for a moment you think each of your breaths to be held in suspension as to what it is that's going to happen next. Chan's eyes remain fixed on yours for so long, and as you feel your temperature rise across your skin and the beat of your heart pick up in some unfamiliar sort of anticipation, you're able to see his gaze flicker down to your lips for just a second before once again settling on maintaining eye contact. "Yeah, you've been kind of an asshole to me, to other people in the office, but that doesn't mean you're deserving of this. No woman is deserving of being subjected to this, regardless of who it is that you decide to sleep with, and for what reason."

If not for his soft demeanor standing right before you, you might believe him to be angry with how he sounds. He must be, though he carries himself well enough as to not let it come out in ugly and unpleasant ways; and as a result, the quick and hard beating of your heart within your chest only picks up that much more. Since when does this guy have such an absurd effect on you?

"I've seen the work you put in, so I'm in a pretty good position to make the call," Chan says, inching himself just ever so slightly closer to you. His voice drops lower now, and accompanying it, the less subtle eyeing of your mouth in relation to his. "You're better than this, you're better than probably all of these blokes here."

"Is that so?" you whisper in response, and though the sentiment is appreciated, you must acknowledge within yourself that the topic of conversation has fallen quite a bit to the wayside in favor of something far more intriguing, something far newer, and more enticing. 

"It is." He inches closer yet, only suspected millimeters of distance still held between your mouths. "I'm a pretty good judge of character, you know."

"Says the guy who used to hang out with our boss to get ahead."

Chan grins at your playful combativeness before replying, "Just doing what it takes, I'd have slept with him too if the opportunity were to arise."

Free hand coming up to feather over the softness of his robe, your palm smoothes across his chest and the definition that lies beneath before speaking.

"You know, I'm technically your superior, too."

"Oh?" he chimes, eyebrows perked. "Is that so?"

"Technically," you answer with a small shrug. "I've got you on length of employment, by a couple of years."

Caged in against the railing of the balcony, Chan's lips reside so close to your own that they nearly ghost over the flesh. He smells of mint and rosemary from having been freshly washed—all the more damning for you and your budding curiosity about him.

"Should I give up on trying to sleep with him, then?" Chan asks, a seductive playfulness laced throughout each and every word. "Move on to different, more promising prospects?"

"Only one way to find out."

When Chan finally closes the distance fully and kisses you, it's not as hard, not as rushed as you previously had anticipated it to be. The kiss is careful, a want that resides deeply nestled beneath it but far from the thing that grants unbridled haste and need. His lips are soft, the tug of his teeth at your bottom lip experimental as he tests the waters in regard to what he should or should not be doing, but it's a kind of trepidation that only has you eager for more from him. Your fingers grip tightly into the robe, a light pull in order to have his body more firmly and intentionally against your own, and it must be precisely the sort of green light he had been looking for, because the delicate slide of his tongue to find yours enters into the mix, and now you have no other choice but to accept that your original plan in hostile takeover has ultimately ended up in yet another failure.

Though this one is far more appreciated, and you've got to admit, you're happy to go home tomorrow with this sort of loss sitting on your scorecard.

The day of your return home is long and full of travel, though this does little to stave off all of the thoughts of what could, and might be.

Falling hard and fast has never been you. Through the years you've dedicated to your professional development, you've met people, shared bed and intimacies with people that never were to develop beyond the simple gratification that the two of you granted each other in those moments. You try to think back to the last time you really wanted someone; not physically, not sexually, but as a larger and more intrinsic part of your life.

But you can't, not until now.

Chan offers you a ride back to your home from the airport once the both of you land. The taxi is long and expensive, and while money is of no consequence to you, there is a much firmer inkling within that wishes to have just a little bit more time together that isn't set between the walls of a stuffy office that you now have come to have great disdain for.

Driving on the highway, you roll your window down slightly and enjoy the breeze as it's offered to you. The horizon paints itself with colors of pink, purple, and orange as the sun begins to set; normally something of no interest to you, but now? Now, a newfound beauty in all of it.

You barely know Chan, but what you've learned in a short amount of time has you eager to find out more. You can't help but wonder if he feels the same.

"Hey, uh."

As if reading your mind, Chan pipes up from the driver's side, a nervousness in his voice that you aren't quite familiar with but has you eager to hear more.

"Look, no pressure, yeah? But…think you might be interested in coming back to mine and having a drink, or just to talk?"

Thank all of the powers that be, you think to yourself.

"Yeah, that'd be nice," you say, trying to temper your interest. "Let's do that."

Chan's place is nice. Comfortable, cared for, but cozy. 

As you step inside and remove your shoes, you look around to take in your surroundings. The furniture is nice, but not lavishly so. Pretty vases with flowers and hanging picture frames showing memories of friends and family adorning his walls that come off as inviting, and not showy. In juxtaposition, you find yourself thinking back to so many other places that you've visited in the past—homes that feel far less like them, and more like museums. Do not touch. The empty atmosphere of being unlived in.

A cork pops off from a bottle just a bit inside and around a corner, thus, you follow the invitation of it. Chan stands in his kitchen pouring two glasses of wine, and you take a seat at the small, glass, dining room table in wait.

"Workplace romances are forbidden, you know."

Well, that is certainly one way for you to broach the topic.

And while you've been mulling it over the whole day, you had decided upon this as the best route. It's simplistic enough to get the point across, but also light-hearted in a way that it doesn't need to be taken too seriously in consideration by Chan. The concept of an office romance being so broad that there is difficulty in necessarily pinpointing what does, or does not, fit within the definition.

But the two of you have kissed, and there is clearly some degree of interest. So, it applies well enough to be used as the shoe horn.

However, Chan only smiles as he finishes up the task of pouring the drinks. He glances up at you briefly, then carries on with what it is that he is doing before replying.

"Okay," he says. Not giving you much to work with until he comes around the table and sits beside you, wine glasses set onto the tabletop. "Then I'll quit."

"Wait, what?"

You don't expect this answer, and it certainly doesn't make any sense to you, either. Yes, things have been moving relatively quickly in your own mind, and as far as your own feelings are concerned, but has the same been true for him? To this degree, at that?

He shrugs. "I'll quit. It's not a big deal, I don't even like that place, and I sure as hell don't like our boss, so I'll just find another job if it means we can keep doing this comfortably."

Chan punctuates the thought with a sip of his drink, so nonchalant. Like the most absurd thing hasn't just come out of his mouth with incredible conviction.

"I…but…" you stutter out, trying to gather your thoughts. "You barely even know me, and if I'm being honest, it sounds a little crazy to be willing to give up such a huge position at a company just to date a colleague that wasn't even that nice to you only a couple of days ago."

"Yeah, I suppose when you put it like that, it does sound a little crazy." Chan takes another bored sip of wine. "I did tell you I'm a pretty good judge of character, though."

A beat of silence passes between the two of you, and you take it as an opportunity to bring your own glass up and to your lips before speaking into the rim. "Going to give up your job so you can sleep with me."

"Well, not just sleep with you, though I guess that depends on how good it is."

You choke on the sip.

"I'm a big boy, I can make career decisions for myself, even if that decision is to effectively and temporarily blow mine up." Chan's hand finds your thigh beneath the table then, fingertips gently digging into the flesh of the inside. "The rest is up to you, though. We can call all of this off right here, right now, and go to work tomorrow like nothing ever happened."

With the back of your neck heating up and the light prickling of goosebumps across your skin, you set your glass down, inhale deeply, and then look Chan square in the eyes.

"Maybe it's about time you earn that next promotion."

"You know—"

Chan whispers the words out and against your lips, through fervent kisses so quick and needy that he's barely able to say anything, at all. Hands are busy at work to slip the both of you out of your business attire from the day; button down shirts, belts, slacks, and skirts strewn hastily about the hardwood flooring of his bedroom while stumbling desperately towards the bed.

"I never thought my next promotion would be getting myself fired."

"Life is just full of surprises," you say, pushing him to the edge of the bed and gently down on top of it. "Isn't it?"

He doesn't bother responding, however, instead fixated on the way you drop to your knees between his legs and lightly graze a palm over the tenting at the front of his undergarments.

Fingers hooking into the elastic sides, you drop them down his thighs, freeing what it is that you really wish to see of him. You wrap a hand around the thick base of his length, gently stroking him to a fullness that was already so close to being reached. Chan sighs into the touch first, then a light groan that catches in his throat at the feeling of your tongue traversing up the underside of him, only to curve around the tip and then sink down whole to take him in.

One hand comes up to find the back of your head, though there's no force behind the gesture as you work him with your mouth. The wide stretch is enough to already have you feeling the fatigue of such an offering, but the heavenly sound of Chan quickly unraveling beneath you is enough to have you ignoring the ache that comes along with the wonder of such a large cock.

"Fuck, you feel good," he exhales, hips ever so slightly canting up to meet your mouth as you take him deeper in.

You pull off slowly, looking up the length of his perfect, toned body to meet his heavily lidded eyes. Hand still stroking him as you do. "You know what feels better?"

"I can guess."

With that, Chan leans forward and grasps you by the wrist—pulls you up and onto the bed with the kind of strength you couldn't dare fight against if you wanted to. Swapping your positions, you find yourself splayed out against the mattress and with hands already busy prying your thighs apart to accommodate him before you're even able to gather your senses.

A lone finger slides up your wet crease, stilling at the most sensitive part of you. Your body jolts at the feeling, looking down as Chan grins only inches away from the place where you want him the most.

"Would you hold it against me if I told you I wanted to fuck you the moment we landed in LA?" he admits, and punctuates the thought with a languid stroke of his tongue following where his finger has just traveled. "Never would have said anything in a million years but—God, the way you look dressed for work like that? So professional and serious, couldn't stop thinking about what you'd sound like if I just—"

Chan pauses the thought, digs his tongue and the plush of his lips more firmly against your clit and gently offers the sensation of being filled by two fingers simultaneously. You can't help the whine that falls from your mouth, though you make a half-hearted attempt to catch it before it does. One hand of fingers curling into the bedding below, the other finding Chan's hair to wrap the curls up and between; he wastes no further time showing precisely the kind of want that he has quietly carried for you. Dizzying and electric beneath your skin, hips bucking up ever so slightly and without conscious thought to find more of him as he grants it to you.

"I was so mean to you, though," you manage to say through heavy breaths and moans, "would you hold it against me if I told you I considered fucking you to try to ruin you? Professionally, of course."

The sounds that this information musters up and out of Chan can only be described as the most animalistic, primal groan of hedonistic want that you've ever heard.

"Yeah? You're going to ruin me?" he replies, fingers still pressed inside of you and a thumb firmly sitting at your clit. "Might have to revisit who's going to be ruining who."

Disappearing off and to the side, Chan makes such quick work of dealing with the necessities that you almost don't even notice his having done so. He stands afterwards—all but hauls you further up the length of the bed to accommodate his being there as well, and then positions himself between your legs once more as he drags the thickness of his cock through the wetness that awaits him.

"Maybe I sort of like it when you're mean to me, ever consider that?" Chan asks, coy in tone. One hand gripping into the soft flesh of your thigh as to hold you open for him while the other sits firm at the base of his cock, blunt head only slightly pressing at your opening. "Maybe it was all just a plot by me to get you to talk to me like a piece of shit so that I could then, in turn, fuck you stupid like we both want."

And while you would love to fight the point, the steady drive of Chan's hips forward makes for that to be an impossibility. The stretch of him carving out space inside of you for his cock is dizzying, slow and careful as he does so. You whine and sigh out as he pulls your body onto him until he rests fully inside.

"You talk a big game," Chan says then, gently fucking into you as his hands slide down and settle around your hips for leverage. "But at least you can take a big dick too, can't you?"

It's so much happening all at once, your senses in overdrive at the way that he's speaking to you almost condescendingly, paired with how pulled apart from the seams your body feels in order to accommodate his thickness. Once settled into more of a steady, offering drive into you, the friction is mind-numbing—feeling so full that not one single nerve ending finding reprieve from the hug of your body around his cock.

You reach forward with one hand, grasping at a strong, tensed arm that shows beneath the flesh each and every muscle he has worked so hard for. Your nails dig in, and as a result, he fucks you harder, faster; hips snapping roughly against the undersides of your thighs.

"Fuck, Chan, don't—don't stop."

"Yeah? Like it that much, huh?" His grip on your hips gets harder, and the strength in his upper body now fully used to pull your body down and against his cock with every drive. "You're taking it so good, maybe one of these days we'll see how good your pretty body can take it when I fill you up with my cum, yeah?"

And you want to be better than this, stronger than this. Stronger than the way that the words go straight into your already pained and needing arousal—tightening around him, an orgasm now threatening on the horizon much faster than originally anticipated.

You gasp out his name, repeating expletives in droves like a hopeless chant that you have no control of as a knowing smirk paints across his lips and he continues on with the work he is putting into your body.

"Want that," he says, breath shaky. "Want me to come in you. Now who's the one of us earning something?"

Grip into his skin tightening just that much more, your back arches up and off of the bed; thighs shaking and muscles tightening as you grit your teeth through the way that your orgasm shakes you. Chan never stops, the glide of his cock so smooth and easy between your walls that even through the stiffness of your body as you come, the strength that he holds makes it easy to use your form to fuck himself with as he watches you release around him with enamored appreciation.

It doesn't take much more from him, and you feel the way he fucks into you becoming more erratic, more needy and without plan as he aims to find his release. Though you've just finished, and need and want for him still courses through your veins at a lightning quick pace, and thus, when you beg for him in a whine to come on your body, it's a kind of humiliation that you'll have to deal with only after the fact. 

But not now.

Chan groans, deep and nestled into his chest as he pulls himself from the warmth of you and pulls the condom off—you watch him stroke over his wet, thick cock by hand quickly—taking in the sight of how the definition of his abdomen and chest flex as he reaches closer and closer to his end.

"Anything for you," he says, though the words are barely audible and totally destroyed in the dryness of his throat. "Little cock-drunk, are you? Don't worry baby, I'll give you what you want."

While his tone is just ever so slightly condescending, there's a sort of sexiness in the confidence of it that does, indeed, drive you even crazier with each and every utterance of it. Chan strokes himself to completion shortly after; free hand coming up to find your clit and carefully rubbing you along with him as he comes. The both of you moan in unison, watching the way his cum paints your chest and stomach in such a lewd fashion before the momentum naturally slows, as does his hand.

Chests heaving, Chan is the first to cough out a laugh in the aftermath of it all.

"Did I get carried away?"

"No," you say through a heavy, exhausted exhale. "No, not at all. Fuck."

"Good?"

You give him a tired look in response, not wanting to give him the pleasure of acknowledging it with words.

Chan appears to accept this with a smile, leaning down and capturing your lips with his own. It's not needy, not full of lust as before. Now, laced within it is something completely different, and not unlike the first time that the two of you shared a kiss together.

You opt out of spending the night together, on account of having work early in the morning and wanting to be proper fresh for the occasion. None of your belongings are here, none of your work clothes—only items hours traveled in and then lightly carrying the musk of two people far too hasty in going at one another. 

Still, you can't help but consider what the aftermath of this truly looks like for the both of you in the workplace. Of course, Chan admits a willingness in the moment to quit his job for the opportunity of the two of you exploring this—but how much truth could really be lying within those words? 

A man who barely knows you, who has no real reason to be willing to do such a thing for you. What makes you so special, anyway?

Suppose the next morning in the office will tell.

Stepping into the office, you aren't so sure what you expect to find, only that what you have found is most definitely not it.

People are running all about, through the corridors, in and out of cubicle spaces, phones ringing and ringing for what sounds like forever with the sound of shouting into receivers coming from every single direction.

You walk in further, down the hallway towards your own personal office—but just before you make it there, your boss cranes his head out from his own just a bit further down the way and shouts at you for the world to hear.

"You! Get in here, now! What have you done?"

Eyes wide and eyebrows pressed up towards the ceiling, you can't help but wonder to yourself; what have I done?

Once you make it inside, you don't even bother closing the door behind you. Privacy isn't needed now, in part because a new side of you has been unlocked since this trip—a part of you that doesn't care. A part of you that has long since resigned yourself to simply not giving a shit about any of this. Not like you used to, not in the same way that once allowed for it to take, and take, and take from you without ever truly giving back.

You're free now.

"Did you know that Chris quit?" the man shouts, hair tousled and random papers lying thoughtlessly around his desk. "What did you do on that trip? What did you do to him you little—you little…bitch."

These words, once upon a time that is not even all that long ago, might have hurt you in such an inexplicable way, but now, the concept of such a thing seems so unfathomable, so far away from you. The cutting edge of a knife meant to maim, only now it slides off of you effortlessly—this man can no longer hurt you, and soon, you have decided, he can no longer take from you, either.

"I didn't do anything to him, sir." You smile, accompanying the words. "Though I don't think the same can be said for me. I think he's done a lot to me in a very short time, and for that, I am incredibly thankful."

The man pauses, looks at you with an empty stare before his eyebrows firmly knit together in a grimace. He intends to speak, but you are no longer interested in hearing anything from him.

"I quit, too."

Turning back towards the door, you hear the man stumbling over his words in an attempt to get something of use out. For once, it would seem, he is left speechless. The ideal version of him, you can't help but think.

"You can pay out my severance as intended under typical circumstances, and if you don't, I'll send everything to HR and contact a lawyer to take you for everything that you're worth," you add in, glancing back over your shoulder. "And I will win."

"Oh, and thanks for fucking me over so exquisitely on this work trip, I actually think it worked out in everyone's best interest."

Halfway out of the door, you hum, then turn back towards him for the last time with a smug, gratified smirk.

"Well, except maybe for you."

Your hectic surroundings as you leave the office for the very last time feel like nothing but static noise. Inconsequential and unimportant in the grand scheme of things. You don't know what the future holds for you, or for Chan, or for whatever it is that the two of you might have budding and blossoming together. It sort of doesn't matter, which you find to be the beauty of a new beginning.

When the elevator sounds off upon reaching the bottom floor, the metal doors part, and standing in the marble lobby is a familiar face that you're certainly not expecting to see.

Chan stands there before you; all fitted jeans and comfortable black hoodie. A casual side of him that you've not seen before, but are so delighted to be able to that it ignites a fluttering in your chest that perhaps you've not felt since grade school.

"What are you doing here?" you ask.

He tries to fight back the smile, but to no avail. "I knew you were going to quit, so I figured I'd be here to get you when you did."

"I didn't come here this morning with the intention of doing that."

"I'm sure you didn't." Chan swings the loop of his keys around on a finger nonchalantly. "But I still knew you would. Breakfast?"

Three days isn't long enough to say I love you, but there's a previously locked away, fairytale side of you that's certainly thinking it right about now.

"We're both unemployed, should we be going out and getting breakfast?"

Chan tsks at that, "we're top executives in our field, we'll both be head-hunted before we even start looking. Besides—"

Reaching down, Chan takes the hand not holding a briefcase into his own, pointedly fitting fingers in between your own and looking straight into your eyes.

"Can't a guy take his girlfriend out for a waffle?"

Yes, yes he most certainly can.

♡ hope you enjoyed.

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

#bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz imagines #skz scenarios

[writting-stuff-sometimes]

Just for a second - Lando x fem reader

Summary: Y/N "dated" Lando for a while but life happens and sometimes it isn't a fairy tale.

Warnings: Fluff and a sad ending.

Word Count: 17K

Notes: Please, no second part requests. This is me trying to deal with personal stuff I don't know how to work out, and writing helps me get it out. I wrote it in a rush so excuse the mistakes.

___________________________________________________________

An Instagram DM request called your attention, when clicking on the notification his name froze you. You doubted about opening it.

After panicking for a couple of minutes you finally did.

LvNg4Lf Hey, I will be in Italy next week. Can I take you out for some dinner?

Your heart rushed a million miles an hour.

You had kept yourself busy for the last year to keep him out of your mind, but the moment his stupid face and name appeared on your phone it all came back.

"Y/n? Are you ok?" Ana, your best friend and roommate asked softly as if not to scare you.

"Sorry, yes" you answered matching her tone

"Are you sure? You're biting your nails again"

You removed your hand from your mouth.

"He messaged me"

"Who?" You just stared at her. "Oh hell no, what does he want?"

"He will be here next week, he wants to buy me dinner"

"Why?"

"Don't know"

"What did you say?"

"I haven't answered"

"Are you going?"

"I don't know"

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know, I thought a year would be enough to get over it, but I guess not" you said signaling your bitten nails.

"I don't know what to tell you"

"It's ok, I don't know what I need to hear"

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Hell, no, it's your anniversary dinner. You go, I will be fine"

"Are you sure, I can tell-"

"Go" You pushed her off the couch "Say hi to Leo from me. Have fun"

"Ok, but message me if you need anything"

"I won't and you know it, go!" You pushed her out the door and sat back on the couch, your phone on the coffee table. How could something so insignificant as a message have you losing your mind?

You and Lando had met in the UK at a Quadrant shooting, your boss was in charge of the art department for the shooting but that weekend he had caught a bad cold, and after the pandemic, anything close to the mild flu meant someone else had to take the job and that's how you found yourself in a meeting room with Lando, Max and the rest of the creative team.

It was an instant click, he was funny, and smart, and much to your surprise he had a good eye for colors, textures, and lighting, he was clearly an amateur but better than a few of your "professional" coworkers.

The shooting was long but so entertaining and with such an amazing vibe between you and Lando, when he offered to drive you to your hotel you didn't hesitate and said yes.

It was all super friendly, both of you talking about everything and nothing at the same time, you sat in his car talking well past 5 am.

The next morning you got an Instagram follow request from a weird account and a DM request.

LvNg4Lf Hi, it's Lando, last night was so much fun, it was amazing working with you. I would love to invite you to lunch and talk about future projects. This is my personal account, please don't share it.

The next day the group chat was exploding with messages asking you for details about your hot night with the F1 driver, but there was nothing to tell, it had been all innocent.

The dates started as innocent work meetings but slowly the topics drifted from work to more personal stuff, then the Instagram DMs became more and more frequent, and before you realized you started seeing each other for movie nights and dinner dates. The first kiss happened one night after dinner, he was dropping you off at your flat. He had been weird all night as if something was bothering him, you were worried something was wrong.

"Thanks so much for dinner" You said as he helped you out of his car. "Please let me know when-" He pulled you hard against him placing his hand on your cheek.

"Don't hate me, please" He whispered, and joined your lips shyly.

You kissed him back, it was as natural as all those dates. His soft lips against yours felt amazing.

"I'm sorry" he said out of breath as his forehead rested against yours.

"Don't" You gave a quick peck to his lips.

Just a kiss was shared that night, even when your body was asking for more, and judging by the bulge pressing against your hip, he was craving more too, but neither of you wanted to rush it.

It was just a situationship but it was intense. You kept it down on the low, only your roommate and best friend, and his best friend knew about it. You could see how everyone treated the other "WAGS" and your mental stability wasn't ready for that kind of pressure, especially when you didn't even know what was happening.

He was flying straight back to London after every race, staying over at your house or you going to his, spending as much time together as you could. Movie nights and romantic dinners in either of your places were the usual, but you didn't care about not being outside. His arms around your body, him kissing your forehead, neck, and lips, was better than any date outside, you couldn't keep your hands off each other and didn't want to risk being caught in public.

You were falling, and falling hard. Once you even flew to surprise him at a doubleheader, spending one amazing week with him, living the full F1 experience.

His personal brand had reached a high peak and his management advised him to move to Monaco, it was a good economic decision. He was so excited when he told you about it as he showed you the apartment he had just leased, but all you could think about was what about the "relationship"?

It was the post-sex rush that made him ask you to move with him to Monaco, but it wasn't that easy. You loved your job, and you had worked so hard to get to the position you had now, leaving the country for a situationship wasn't the smartest idea, especially when he wasn't sure about going public or even formalizing. Another suggestion from his team. His Playboy era had proved to be a great marketing strategy, his merch sales had increased the moment he broke up with his last girlfriend, so getting into a relationship was strongly discouraged.

You spoke about it once, but in the end, moving with him or him staying in London was out of the question.

You avoided the topic for the last couple of weeks you were together. He spent his last night in the UK at your place, since his place had been emptied. It was as lovely as every night you had been together, but you couldn't shake away the bitter taste of him leaving and not knowing what would come next,

"We will find a way to make this work, ok?" He whispered against your lips as you said your goodbyes.

"Promise?"

"Yes" he kissed you deeply, biting your lip one last time.

He got in his car and drove off.

You kept in touch, facetime was your best friend for a few weeks, but slowly the communication started to lessen. He had a lot of work with Quadrant and the races, and you received an offer to lead the company's office in Italy which kept you crazy busy.

You moved to Italy a couple months after he had left for Monaco. Thank God, your best friend found a way to move with you thanks to her remote work, keeping you company whenever you needed to vent about your situationship. Around that time you were messaging just a couple times every couple of weeks.

Slowly whatever you had faded away, and even when you still had feelings for him, you did your best to keep yourself busy trying to bury whatever you felt under tons of work and meaningless dates.

But now, his message pulled all those feelings back up, and they were as strong as they were a year ago.

Y/USERNAME Y/workadress, on Friday I'm off at 5

LvNg4Lf Great, see you on Friday

Thank God, Ana spent the rest of the week at her boyfriend's, when she texted you asking about Lando you just replied "I'm not sure yet", she had such a strong mom vibe she would've rushed home just to talk to you about it, ruining Leo's anniversary plans.

"Y/n, somebody's waiting for you in the lobby" one of your workmates said as she entered the meeting room, a cheeky grin on her face.

"Thanks, Lis" You gattered your things nervously.

"Who's the cutie?"

"An old friend" you said escaping her interrogation, you were anxious enough to also worry about the office gossiping about your relationships.

The moment the elevator doors opened you recognized him, his back was facing your way, but the curls were unforgettable, and his arms those damn arms.

"Hey" you softly said standing behind him.

"Hi" A big smile on his face as he took you in his arms.

You hugged him back, it was as if no time had passed. He was bigger, stronger, and his back was broader, but still, your body fitted inside his embrace like a glove, and his scent, you had missed it so much.

He took your bag and jacket as he walked you to his car. Inside he handed you his phone.

"What?" You asked confused, he was usually the designated DJ.

"Your address"

"Why?"

"You need to pack for the weekend"

"What? I thought we were just having dinner"

"Do you trust me?" he stared at you making your heart rush.

"Calm down, Aladdin"

His particular laugh melted your heart, you hadn't realized how much you missed that sound.

You typed your address and started the route.

You shared small talk, he asked you about your day at work and you asked about his trip there.

"Go, I will wait here, I need to make a couple calls" He opened the door and offered his hand to help you out.

"What should I pack for?"

"Whatever you might need for a weekend, if anything is missing we can buy it, now go" He kissed your forehead and took out his phone as you rushed up to your apartment.

You took a quick shower, shaved, and trimmed where it was needed, not that you were expecting anything to happen, as far as you knew this was all friendly, but you didn't want to get caught offward.

"Holly shit, you're not going to believe who I saw-" Ana barged into your room as you were searching for a dress in your closet.

"-what are you doing?" She asked approaching the suitcase on your bed. You just turned and gave a nervous smile. "He invited you to have dinner, and you weren't even sure you were going, now you're packing?"

"Well..."

"Why are you packing? Are you escaping, want to jump in my car's trunk?"

"I'm not escaping, I'm not sure, he just told me to pack for the weekend"

"What if he's kidnapping you to take you to Monaco, should I call the police?"

"I'm not going to Monaco!"

"Not yet" A hint of sadness in her voice.

"I'm not, I swear, we're just doing something that I'm not sure what it is, but I'm not moving anywhere."

"Well, I guess the only thing we're sure about is that sex is part of the plan" She said pulling out the Victoria's Secret set you had packed.

"You never know" you answered with a cheeky smile.

You finished packing and rushed to the door.

"Please take care, be careful, and call me if you need anything, I will send the Italian troops your way immediately"

"Thanks, I will keep you posted" You hugged her and rushed downstairs, Lando placed your bag on the back of his truck and started driving without a map.

"Are you telling me where are we going?" You interrupted the conversation.

"Nope" A proud grin on his face.

"Are we going to Monaco?" You asked shyly.

"Do you want to go to Monaco?" He turned to look at you, some seriousness on his face.

"I'm just asking" You turned your blushing cheeks towards the passenger window.

You kept a casual conversation, the nerves were fading away but then he placed his hand on your thigh, and your breath hitched, it was a normal gesture when you were together, but now it felt like your leg was on fire.

A little over two hours later you were driving on a dirt road toward a lit-up old-style chalet.

He took both your bags, placed the code on the pad at the door and a beautiful living room appeared. It was one of those fairytale-like chalets.

"Follow me" He walked up some stairs to the only room in the house.

"One room?"

"I didn't think you would mind us sharing a bed. If you don't feel like it, I can sleep on the sofa" A hint of shame in his voice.

"No!" you said a little too loud. "I mean, I just... this is all just a surprise, that's it" You walked towards the bed and sat on it. He placed the bags next to the closet and walked towards you, he sneaked between your legs and you hugged him by the waist as his hands wrapped around your shoulders.

"Want to explore before it gets darker?" He kissed your hair.

"Sure" You followed him through the back door.

It was such a beautiful place, a jacuzzi was just outside the living room door, facing the Italian countryside. Not a single sign of other people for miles and miles.

He took your hand, intertwining your fingers as you walked through the dimly lit path. The conversation was about it all, your new job, the F1 season so far, just like old times.

Night fell and you walked back to the chalet, the full moon giving you enough light not to need the phone flashlight.

You prepared dinner and sat in the living room to watch a movie. After you finished eating you found yourself leaning against his chest, Aladdin playing on the flat screen as his fingers softly played with your hair, and yours traced the veins on his arm around your waist. A knot in your throat, you missed this so much.

As Aladdin was kissing Princess Jazmine after defeating Jafar his finger found your chin, turning it softly towards him. You stared deep into his eyes, your breath hitched when his tongue traced his lips. You moved your hand to cup his cheek and pulled him to join your lips. The kiss was soft, but filled with emotion.

His tongue entered your mouth as you turned your body to face him completely. His hands found your thighs guiding you to straddle him.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked breaking the kiss, as much as he was dying to be with you he wanted to make sure you were ok.

"Yes" you answered leaving a soft kiss on his nose.

That was all he needed to hear and in no time you were naked, his lips traveling to the places he missed the most. The moment he entered you it was as if you were two pieces from the same puzzle.

Magical, wasn't enough to describe the weekend. You had sex in every single surface of that chalet as if you were trying to make up for lost time. Even the sex in the jacuzzi was amazing, you had heard a ton of stories discouraging you from doing it in the water but it had been one of the best experiences in your life.

It was the early hours of Sunday, and you had to leave the chalet that afternoon. Your head on Lando's chest as his fingers traced figures on your back. A sudden feeling of sadness took over your body. A couple tears escaped your eyes.

"Y/n?" Lando took your face when he felt a warm tear on his chest and you sobbed silently.

"I'm ok" You said trying to sound normal.

"Come here" He sat up, his back against the headboard and he pulled you to straddle him, this time it wasn't sexual, he just needed you close. His face showed he was as unsure as you were, bringing more tears to your eyes.

"I know" he softly said as you laid your head on his chest and finally let the tears fall freely.

When the tears had eased you lifted your head back. Seeing your red eyes and nose broke his heart.

"You're thinking the same, right?" You lowly asked as you saw his eyes starting to water.

"Complicated?" his voice hoarsed from the tears he was holding back.

"Yes"

"You seem happy in Italy"

"You seem happy in Monaco"

He nodded and you leaned your head back on his chest as fresh tears fell from your eyes.

"Having you by my side would make me happier" he softly said as his fingers played with your hair.

"Same"

You knew that for now, this was impossible. As much as you loved being with him, you loved your work, your life in Italy was amazing and you couldn't ask him to do something you weren't willing to do yourself. Maybe you didn't love him as much as you thought, but why was this hurting so much? You could feel your heart breaking into a million pieces as his chest moved in a way that let you know he was crying too.

"I'm sorry" He whispered

"Don't, it was amazing, it's just...life"

"This fucking life"

"Ok" you took a deep breath and whipped your cheeks. "We still have a few hours, let's make the most of them"

He smiled, his eyes still shining from the tears, which made you sigh. "But first" He kissed your neck. "One more?" he pulled you down grinding your body against his growing bulge.

"Let's see if we can fit two" You smiled against his lips and hugged his neck.

After leaving the chalet you stopped by a small trattoria, eating slowly, enjoying every bite. Back on the road he was driving the speed limit, trying to spend the most time together.

He parked next to your car.

"I'll help you with it" He said as he stopped you from taking your bag.

"It's ok" You tried to reach for it.

"I insist" he took a step back.

"Lan, I can do it, please" You looked up at him, your eyes watery again.

"But..."

"Thanks for this, it was magical, but I think it's time" You tried to hold back the tears, he was doing the same. He didn't say a word but handed you your suitcase.

You hugged him hard. He breathed in your scent, trying to lock it in his memory and you did the same with his.

The garage door opening interrupted the moment.

He whipped your tears and you did the same with his.

He kissed your lips softly, you knew the three words he was holding back because you were holding them back too.

"Good luck next weekend"

"Thanks, good luck at work"

You said goodbye as if you were seeing each other soon just to make it less painful, but the truth was completely different.

He watched you walk towards the elevator. you saw a faint smile on his face as the door closed.

The moment your appartment door closed Ana rushed to you, hugging you hard when she saw the heavy tears falling from your eyes.

Tag List: @wtrmlnsgr94, @ricsaigaslec, @ironmaiden1313, @formulas-bitch,

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

#f1 fiction #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #max fewtrell imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #lando x y/n #f1 x y/n #lando norris fluff

[marcos-scorpion]

Heyy a Charles Leclercx fem!reader request where he comes home exhausted and the reader is making him a romantic dinner he comes in while she is cooking listening to some old music and he sways her around the kitchen and then they just slowly dance around the kitchen all evening food long forgotten deeply in love with eachother thank you and love your work

il predestinato - Charles Leclerc x Reader

hihi !! so i was aiming for this to be totally fluffy, but there’s a lil angst, mostly around how this season is going for Charles and Ferrari. I really like this tbh, and although i wrote it pretty quickly, i think it’s cute! tysm for the request my lovely,, hope you like it!! requests are still open

warnings- lil sad cos of Ferrari and how they treat Charles,, mostly fluffy

w/c- 1489

——

Charles Leclerc was struggling this season. You couldn’t deny it, no matter how much you wished it wasn’t true. 

Ferrari disasterclass after Ferrari disasterclass were starting to weigh heavily on his mind. No matter how many positive interviews after less positive results he gave, how many toothy grins he shot your way after another day in the factory or on the sim, you could see how all of this was beginning to weigh on your boy. 

You knew he deserved more, every F1 fan knew he deserved more. You’d seen messages between him and Pierre, him and Max, hell even a few with Sebastian that showed that they knew he deserved more. You’d watched quietly as his brothers rallied around him, despite Arthur taking off in F2 and Lorenzo always having to dash off for meetings, his career being more demanding than people realised. You’d watched as Charles’ dreams crumbled under the pressure of the team, under the tyres of his once-beloved red car. 

He was meant to be ‘il predestinato’. The Predestined. One of the greats waiting to happen. He was meant to be fighting for that title, wheel to wheel with the Red Bull, the Mercedes, and, surprisingly, the Aston Martin. He was a front of the grid, top step of the podium driver, stuck with the team who had promised him the world, and left him to piece together the shards of the glory they had promised. 

You felt powerless in this all. A girl with a degree earned in student loans and scholarships, and no career to back it up, in a fast-paced world of the rich and important. Finding a place in Charles’ life had been difficult as it was, but you would do it all again to support him. Put your dreams of a Masters degree, and a doctorate, on hold. Sell your meagre little studio flat for the life so many dream of in Monaco. Leave family and friends behind for a world that would never quite be yours, no matter how many brands suddenly wanted to dress you for paddock appearances, no matter how much diamond jewellery Charles draped around your throat. What could a normal girl do to support someone like Charles, in a situation as delicate and important as this. 

Whatever you could. Anything you could. You celebrated his wins, commiserated and comforted after losses. Spent weekend after weekend in crowded garages, night after night holding him as his shoulders shook under the weight of everyone’s expectations, as tears ran in rivulets down his cheeks. 

Today was going to be a hard day for Charles. You had seen it in his eyes when he had left your shared apartment that morning. Another meeting with the Ferrari high-ups, another meeting where they blamed everything but themselves for the poor results ahead of the Azerbaijan Grand Prix this coming weekend. As soon as the lock clicked into place behind him, you decided you needed to do something today that could hopefully lift his mood. 

After spending most of the morning cleaning your home, washing his training gear and polishing the monitors on his sim, dusting trophies in the cabinets lining his office walls, a trip to the market began. The ingredients for Charles’ favourite food in your basket, you decided to stop and get a few more treats for him that would certainly anger his trainer. A bottle of his favourite expensive wine, pastries from the little stall he took you to the day you met, the chocolate his mum bought him after good results in kart races as a child. 

Hours later, after what felt like much longer leant over the stovetop in your kitchen, the rich smell of the sauce you were stirring filled the room, the soft sounds of Elvis crooning though the speaker settled safely on the windowsill. Charles wasn’t meant to be home until seven thirty, and it was currently just past five. Enough time to finish the sauce, lay out the good plates and light a few candles. Maybe change into something other than the pyjamas you had put on when you got back from the market. ‘Pyjamas’ being a pair of Charles’ boxers fresh out of the dryer and your faded university jumper. 

Tapping on your phone to increase the volume, you began to gently sway your hips to the intro to Suspicious Minds. So wrapped up in the music, you didn’t hear the front door click, or the bag hit the floor in the entryway. The footsteps making their way into the kitchen didn’t register, not until you felt an arm snake around your waist, palm pressed into the skin of your stomach and the waistline of the stolen underwear. 

You didn’t even flinch at the sensation on your skin, it was so familiar and comforting. Leaning back into his touch, you smiled lazily as your eyes met. 

“Hello, mon coeur.” He murmured, pressing his lips against your hair. 

Twisting in his arms, you let him fully wrap you in his embrace, feeling the tension melt away from the muscles in his back. It had been as bad a day as you’d expected, you could see the slight glisten in his eyes, the furrow in his brow. 

“Oh my darling,” you began “I take it the meeting didn’t go well?” You already knew the answer, but the tightening of his arms around your waist as he buried his face against your hair told you enough. 

You could feel his lips move against your scalp after a few moments, the words he wanted to say struggling to come out. He sighed, stepping back slightly, shifting his arms to press his hands onto your hips. “They’re blaming me. Saying I’m not working hard enough, not trying hard enough to adapt to the car. I’m going against all their plans, against how they’ve set everything out for me. As if it isn’t their bad strategy that’s fucking me over every race.” 

You suddenly felt insecure that your days-worth of work wasn’t going to help, or would even worsen his mood, that it was going against the plan designed by his team and his PT that was so clearly set out to help him be his best. 

“I-I wasn’t sure how you would be feeling, so I’ve tried to cook your favourite. But if you don’t want it, the pre-planned meal ingredients from your trainer are in the fridge. I can make that, o-or I got some pastries from that stall, the one from our first date? And some chocolate, the one your mum used to get.” You smoothed a thumb over the crease between his brows, “We can do whatever you want.”

His hands dropped from your sides, and his chin drooped towards his chest, and you began to panic more. “O-or I can call Pierre, or your brothers, and you can have a boys night, I’ll get out of your way. Whatever you need me to do.” 

His head is still down, and you’re so worried that you’ve made everything worse. But you weren’t expecting the look that you were met with when he raised his head. His eyes were shining more now, the glistening from earlier now lining his lashes with unshed tears. You weren’t expecting the sheer love that was emanating from his expression, his entire being. 

The smile he gave you could move planets, reignite the stars. Any insecurity and anxiety settled in your chest disappeared, replaced with a deep-rooted warmth. 

“Oh, my darling girl,” he sighed, “What good did I do in a past life to deserve you?” 

His arms snaked around your waist again, pulling you tight against him. He began softly swaying to the music still playing. 

“Sometimes, I think the universe made you for me. No one has ever done something so simple, yet so perfect. I think we were designed for each other mon coeur. Destiny did something right for once.” His voice was barely above a whisper. 

“You know, I used to think the nickname il predestinato was a curse. A label placed on me for such an unattainable dream. A ridiculous notion, and unexpected pressure. But I believe that I was your predestined. And you’re mine. And as long as I have you, all of those dreams are within reach again.”

The food was long forgotten, simmering away to itself, and the candles on the table would remain unlit, for tonight at least. Right now, nothing would feel better than dancing with the love of your life to the songs your parents loved too. 

And as the opening notes to Can’t Help Falling in Love With You began, and Charles reached around you to turn off the stove, twirling you to the song as he softly sang the words, you couldn’t help but agree with his sentiment.  

This love was written in the stars. Predestined. And maybe, that was all you two would ever need. 

#Charles Leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #Formula one x reader #charles Leclerc imagine #Charles Leclerc x you #f1 imagine #Fuck Ferrari this season #il predestinato deserves better #Mothie writes #Requests are open #Tysm for the request #F1 x reader fluff #Charles Leclerc x reader fluff

[collapsedglasshouses]

Consequences || Noah Sebastian x Reader [Part 3]

Part 1 - Part 2

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: After not hearing from Noah for weeks, Y/N finds herself at a wedding with the boys.

Warnings: swearing, a tiny bit of angst, tension, mentions of previous sexual events, MDNI, alcohol consumption, let me know if I forgot something :)

A/N: Hello my beautiful people. I wrote this chapter last night. All at once. My head was completely empty after that. Please don't hate me for the cliffhanger ._. Please let me know how you liked this chapter! Enjoy c:

It’s been two weeks since the eventful night that ended with you under Noah’s bed. To your surprise Nick didn’t catch you, not even when you nearly sneezed because of the dust under Noah’s bed. But to your disappointment you didn’t talk with Noah about this whole thing. In all honesty you didn’t even talk at all. The day after the event, you got called by your landlord that your apartment was ready to be lived in again.

That's way you were now, two weeks later, on a thursday, sitting in front of your computer and answering work emails while listening to your upstairs neighbors screaming at each other repeatedly.

When you looked at the clock, it told you it was already time for bed since tomorrow was going to be an important day. One of your childhood friends was getting married this weekend and invited you as well as the boys, since she knew almost everyone out of the group personally except Jolly. But since he almost became everyone's 'service human' she invited him as well.

When you shut down your PC and stretched your back, you couldn't help but think about Noah. You hadn't heard from him in a while. While your brother told you they were working on planing another tour, even going to Europe, you felt kind of sad that he didn't tell you that himself, since you fucking crawled under his bed to escape being caught by your brother.

You almost started to feel something like regret when you stepped into your shower, your mind still infested with the thoughts of Noah's and your 'adventure'. Even though you knew better, you couldn't help feeling like he just used you. It wasn't like Noah had no options, he was the fucking lead singer of a popular metalcore band and looked like the reallife version of Eren Yeager.

It wasn't like you hadn't any options too, having your families genes, but something about Noah just made you feel different.

When you stepped out of the shower, you wrapped a towel around your body before swiping over the fogged up mirror and looking at yourself. Work drained you the last couple of days and you really looked forward to tomorrow since you would be away for almost three days.

So when you packed your bag and finally lay down on your bed, you tried to think about the break you had from your life here for the next couple of days.

Your alarm woke you up at 8 AM. While your plane wouldn't take off until 6 PM, you knew the boys and yourself well enough to give you some extra time to arrive to the airport.

You stood up, put on some music, that being your Bring Me The Horizon playlist today, and began to get ready. First you did your chores and cleaned everything that needed to be cleaned before you would leave for the next days.

Than you made your way to the bathroom at around 11 AM, brushing your teeth, putting on some light make up and than packing the last bit of the things you needed for the wedding.

You almost danced into the kitchen to finally make yourself breakfast, still wearing nothing but a very tiny crop top and mickey mouse panties.

"Time stood still the way it did before" You sang while opening your fridge to grab a milk to pour inside your filled cereal bowl. "It's like I'm sleepwalk-... AAH WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

Out of fear you let your bowl drop to the floor, it making a loud shattering noise while the whole content spread across the kitchen tiles. The intruders, outing themselves as Nick, Folio, Noah and Jolly, laughed violently.

You cursed them out while starting to clean your kitchen and at the same time trying to cover yourself up. "What is wrong with you, guys? I could have been naked! You know I have something called a bell which you can ring to make yourselves known instead of breaking into my stupid apartment, you little fuckers?!"

"That would have been a sight." Jolly joked while standing up with the other boys to help you clean up the mess. "I'll kill you, Karlsson. They'll have to find another guitarist and buy a new guitar because I'll smash yours at your fucking beautiful head." You cursed while wiping up the milk with a rag. You heard Noah laugh behind you, who made it his task to prepare you a new cereal bowl.

"Here you go." He handed you your breakfast. "Sit down and eat, we'll clean the rest."

While you still wanted to set them on fire, you bit back you anger and thanked them for their help before sitting down to eat.

"We wanted to come here early since normally you're always the one being early." Folio explained while sitting down next to you. You took the last spoon. "It's fine but if you do that ever again, I'll take the key from my brother, break it into four pieces and show it up your asses."

"Arousing.", Jolly joked again, causing you to throw the paper work, laying on the kitchen counter, at him.

"Oh, we didn't tell you." Nick started his sentence. "Davis is waiting outside in the car. He offered to drop us of at the airport."

You sighed while cleaning up your bowl, before making your way to your bedroom, getting dressed in something comfortable, grabbing your bag and your dress for the wedding, before heading out of your apartment, not even looking back at the boys. They quickly followed you.

At 5:45 PM you found yourself getting onto the plane and soon realised you were seated next to Noah, meaning you would spent the next five and a half hours sweating out of nervousness.

The first thirty minutes you didn't say a word. Just looked straight ahead and thought about not thinking about Noah which resulted in (oh wonder) thinking about Noah.

The next thirty minutes you tried to listen to music while reading a book, but after you read a spicy scene while listening to The Death of Peace of Mind, you gave that up too.

The next ten minutes you shifted uncomfortably from left to right, causing Noah to finally break the silence. "Are you okay?" His tone gave away that he was in fact slightly annoyed by your actions.

"Why shouldn't I be okay?", you asked finally sitting comfortable and looking him in the eyes. "Because you ignored me for the past hour?" - "Do you have something to say to me?" He stayed silent. "That's what I thought."

You looked straight ahead again, trying to ignore the confused gaze Noah shot you. When he didn't look away for the next five minutes, you glared at him again. "What, Noah?" - "Why are you like this?" He tried to stay as quiet as possible. "Like what?" - "Almost... bitchy?" Your mouth fell open, startled by his words. "What did you just say?" You almost hissed at him. "You heard me." - "Maybe you should think about your own actions before calling me bitchy, Mr. Davis." -

"Oh, don't 'Davis' me, Ruffilo." He shot back and now fully turned to you. You really didn't know how you managed to keep it quiet until now. "Oh, I'm going to continue to 'Davis' you until you realise not messaging someone for weeks who gave you head and than hid under your bed, isn't really 'Noah-worthy', don't you think?" You whisper-shouted at him and were glad that so many people were talking on the plane that the others surely didn't hear your argument.

With that sentence of yours his attitude was slapped out of his body and he began to back down a bit. You knew Noah had a big ego but it was definitely not as big as yours.

It went quiet between you for another thirty minutes, before Noah sighed. "You know, I'm really sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to hurt you. I never would want that."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms before your chest. "But you did." You heard him take a deep breath before he placed a hand on your thigh, instantly giving you goose bumps.

"Please let us talk about this when we come back home. I don't wanna fight with you." He requested honestly, causing you to shortly look at him before gnashing your teeth in consideration. "I don't wanna fight with you either."

He squeezed your thigh for a short moment before smiling at you lightly.

The next hour you spent avoiding the big topic hanging between you and decided catch up since you didn't hear from each other personally for almost two weeks. You didn't even know when it happened but the next thing you knew was when someone pushed your hair out of your face.

"Y/N, you need to wake up." Noah whispers into your ear, causing your neck hair to stand up. "We'll land in a couple of minutes."

When you opened your eyes, you noticed you had leaned against Noah's shoulder in your sleep. You quickly sat up and stretched your back before shooting Noah a shy smile. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that Jolly had noticed what had happened and now was smirking to himself.

When you arrived at the location, which was a mansion-like hotel only booked for the wedding party over the weekend, you were quickly assigned two rooms for the five of you. Since you were all tired and drained from the flight, you decided Nick and Folio would share a room and the rest of you would get the other.

You quickly changed and fell onto your single bed when you got to your room and slept in to the sound of Noah and Jolly chatting before sleep.

You woke up before the boys and decided to get ready before their alarms would go off. So when you came out of the bathroom, showered and only dressed with your towel, you didn't think to hear a 'Good Morning' from Noah, considering it was about twenty minutes before 6 AM.

"Morning." You mumble, slightly overwhelmed by the sight of him. He didn't wear a shirt, fully displaying his tattoos. His arms were crossed behind his head and he shamelessly checked you out.

So while you gathered your clothes, you couldn't help but look at him a couple of times, before returning to the bathroom. Right before you were about to close the door, Noah slipped into the bathroom as well.

"What are you doing?" You whisper-shouted at him, before putting your clothes on the bathroom counter. He also put down his clothes and his towel next to yours.

"If you don't mind I would shower while you put on your make up." He said and before you could answer, he turns away from you to strip out of your clothes, making your eyes widen. "What if Jolly wakes up? What the fuck do you tell him than?" - "He won't wake up" After that sentence he climbed into the shower while you stared at him through the shower glass.

"Sometimes I hate you, Noah Sebastian." - "No, you don't."

You were halfway through your make up when Noah came out of the shower. You swallowed hard while trying your utter best not to stare at him but when he wrapped his towel low around his waist, you couldn't help but shoot him a glance. The way the water drops found their way down his torso sent a wave of heat down your core.

"Do you have something to say?" He asked teasingly. "No, you?" When he said nothing you took a deep breath before applying mascara while he put on some underwear. Right when you placed the mascara back into your make up bag, you felt his hands on your hips, making you sigh.

You closed your eyes when you felt his breath on your neck. "You already look so beautiful, I can't wait to see you in your dress." I can't wait for you to take it off of me. You thought but quickly regained control, clearing your throat and opening your eyes to see Noah already looking at you through the mirror. "You look really good yourself."

"I'm not even wearing clothes." - "As if you don't know how gorgeous you look right now." That was the moment. The first time you saw Noah's cheeks turn into a slight pink color before a small smile crept onto his face. In all those years, this was truly the first time you left him speechless.

He squeezed your hips one last time before mumbling a small 'Thank you.' Than he left the bathroom right in time for Jolly's alarm to go off.

About an hour later the three of you were almost ready when there was a knock on the door.

"We are late." Your brother announced when Noah opened the door for him and Folio but stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing there while braiding a strand of Jolly's hair. "I don't even ask"

"What? Have you seen him? Have you seen his hair?" You defend your actions while you secure his small braided strand with an elastic. After Jolly thanked you, you turned to fully face you brother.

"Wow, you look amazing, Y/N." Nick states while admiring your dress. The motto of the wedding being 'Black/White/Red' gave you the idea do base your outfit off of the iconic Morticia Addams. You wore a long black dress that flattered your curves with slightly too long bat sleeves. Your fingernails matched with your lipstick, both being the same shade of dark red.

"More than amazing." Noah added shooting you an honest smile that made your stomach twist with joy.

You all hurried to make it in time for the ceremony, not having time to catch up with old school friends, since you were already late.

Even though you weren't that close with the bride and groom, only remembering her from school, you had tears in your eyes by the time they exchanged their vows. This didn't go unnoticed by Noah, who slowly but surely grabbed your hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

No matter how delusional that sounded, for a brief moment you thought if there was any future where you would be standing up there with Noah. You quickly shook the thought out of your head by how imaginary the thought sounded but you knew one thing, even if you weren't the wedding couple, Noah would be standing up there with you. There was no way that a universe existed were Noah wasn't in your live. As confusing this whole thing had gotten, there was this one thing you were sure of and from which you would never let yourself be dissuaded.

So you looked at the man you had known for so many years and gave him a smile while squeezing his hand in reassurance.

Around six hours and 30 half-hearted conversations later, you found yourself sitting next to Jolly at your assigned table. "If another person asks me how i've been since school ended, imma drown myself in sparkling wine." You complained to your friend who chuckled at your statement. "I feel with you." You both let your gaze wonder over the party room. A lot of people were pretty wasted, including the bride who was currently dancing to Gangnam Style with her maid of honor. When you looked to her right, you almost choked on your drink. "Fuck, Jolly. You know who this is?" You slightly point your finger at a guy standing at the bar, talking to the groom. "Uhm... no. I don't know anyone except you guys." "That is Michael fucking Baldrow." "Who?" "She slept with that guy when she was... let me think... 18?" Noah answered for you, scaring you a bit before sitting down next to you, looking absolutely done.

"Naaah, was he the one who picked your cherry?" Jolly teased bumping his arm against yours. You almost immediately looked to Noah and with that your fate was decided. You couldn't stop Jolly from putting 1 and 1 together. "NO FUCKING WAY."

You tensed up, shooting a glare at Jolly. "Shut the fuck up." - "Noah and you... No fucking way. This story is getting better everyday." - "I told you to shut up." - "Noah fucking took your virginity?! I can't even breath."

You grabbed Jolly's arm and looked him dead serious in the eye. "If you don't calm down I assure you, this will be your last breath."

Jolly hold his laughter while apologizing to you. You took a deep breath before looking at Noah, who smirked at you. "What, Noah?" - "It's been ten years, I think it is okay if we finally let someone know."

"Nick doesn't know, does he?" Jolly than asks while searching for your brother in the crowd. You all found him standing at the bar, talking to one of his old friends. "No, he doesn't and I think I like it that way." You took a sip from your glass.

"He also doesn't know about the last weeks, does he?" Jolly than asks while smirking, causing Noah and you to ultimately choke on your drinks.

"What did you say?" - "I talked about the fact that you two were definitely fucking on his birthday party." He said that with such a lack of emotion that you weren't sure if he was joking.

You and Noah's eyes met and for a couple of seconds you both seemed to try to process what your friend just set, when he added: "No need for excuses, I also heard that Noah showered while you got ready this morning."

You shot Noah the 'I told you so' glance but before you could defend yourselves, 'Sweet Child of Mine' by Guns 'N' Roses started playing and Jolly forced the two of you on the dance floor, leaving no room to protest.

On the way to the dance floor he managed to catch Folio and Nick and you found yourselves in a circle, dumbly fidgeting around, but with every second passing you forgot about the fact that you couldn't dance and just let go of your worries.

You were here with your bestest of friends. That was everything that mattered to you in this moment.

And than. Than Noah came close to you and whispered in your ear.

"Meet me at our room in five."

What?

READ PART 4 HERE

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #noah x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #rpf #bad omens rpf #collapsedglasshouseswrites #bad omens cult

[bun-lapin]

Are you still taking requests? If yes, can I request headcanons for Malleus, Deuce, Azul + the Savanaclaw Bois with a reader with a crush in someone from their dorm, but the reader's crush isn't them. It's an NPC

It's ok if you don't want to also

Darling Anon, I loved this request so much that I accidentally wrote two versions over the weekend! I couldn't stop thinking about this from both a supporting platonic and unrequited love viewpoint for the boys so I wrote both. Hopefully, that's ok! Thanks so much for sending such a cool request <3

CW: unrequited feelings, some angst

🐉 Malleus:

If he doesn't have a crush on you: Malleus immediately launches into stealthy protection mode! He personally sets out to learn everything about this guy and whether or not he deserves to be with you. He constantly pulls him aside for intense questioning to find out what kind of personality he has. If your crush passes the interrogations, Malleus then enrolls this poor Diasomnia student in personal combat lessons with Lilia to make sure he has what it takes to protect you.

If he has a crush on you: Malleus is so shocked and confused when he learns of your crush that isn't him. He doesn't know what to do or say, so he becomes a little cold and distant towards you. He's still mostly polite when you run into each other, but you can tell something is bothering him. When you finally confront him, he tells you very directly that it's because he likes you and that he knows you like someone else. He doesn't ask you to stop liking your original crush. In a sad and quiet voice, he simply says, "I'll wait for you."

♠️ Deuce:

If he doesn't have a crush on you: Deuce is the ultimate wingman! When he learns of your crush on a fellow Heartslabyul student, he offers all of his support and asks if you want any help approaching your crush. Every time you go to speak with your crush, Deuce is there to hype you up and be your personal cheerleader.

If he has a crush on you: When you tell Deuce you like this random student in his dorm, he gets so flustered that he blurts out that he likes you. Before you can say anything, he runs away and later you hear that Deuce almost got into a fist fight with your crush. After he's calmed down a little, Deuce finds you and lays out everything he's feeling. His expression is full of confusion, anger, hurt, fear. He only asks, "Why him? I just want to know why you like him and not me?"

🐙 Azul:

If he doesn't have a crush on you: Azul immediately pulls all of the info he has on your crush and also dispatches the Leech brothers to do additional reconnaissance work. Knowledge is power and he wants to make sure you know exactly what you're getting with this guy. Any secrets this Octavinelle student thought he had is soon no longer a secret. Azul gets all the details on his friends, family, financial status, academics, etc. and compiles everything in a complete dossier for you.

If he has a crush on you: Azul reacts to news of your crush the same way he would if he didn't have a crush on you. However, the key difference now is that he collects the information way more quickly and almost in a panic. Once he has all the information he can find on his romantic rival, he considers several plans of attack. The most attractive option to him is to either secretly bribe or threaten his rival into never talking to you again. But Azul knows that would make you sad and he never wants to make you feel that way. So he decides to be realistic and simply gives you the information without saying anything about his feelings. Looking a little sad, he just says, "I'll always be here for you if you need anything."

🦁 Leona:

If he doesn't have a crush on you: Outwardly, Leona acts like he doesn't really care. However, after he learns of your crush on a Savanaclaw student, he secretly keeps an eye on your crush whenever he can. He quietly observes him, making sure he's not a bad guy or someone who'd be disrespectful towards you. If he's found to be lacking, Leona will directly tell you and offer to beat him up. If the Savanaclaw student passes Leona's observations, then he'll order him to go talk to you first.

If he has a crush on you: Leona is usually really good at keeping his emotions in check, but you can tell he's really irritated when you tell him about your crush. When you ask him what's wrong, Leona will brush off your questions and keep insisting that everything is fine. However, Leona continues to act annoyed and keeps assigning a bunch of hard jobs and extra tasks to your crush whenever possible. When you finally confront him and refuse to let him go without a real answer, Leona tells you that he likes you. He looks frustrated and sad as he says, "I want to be as important to you as you are to me. I can't believe I'm in second place again…"

🍩 Ruggie:

If he doesn't have a crush on you: When he first finds out about your crush, Ruggie teases you a little about it (in a way that makes the both of you laugh). Afterwards, you and Ruggie will frequently trade gossip about your crush while eating snacks and talking about your feelings in a light-hearted way. If you ever start to feel anxious about talking to your crush, Ruggie always lightens the mood with a good joke and surprisingly good advice.

If he has a crush on you: Ruggie cracks a joke as always but, when it comes to your crush, the jokes get a little mean-spirited. Even though it sounds like he's joking, whenever Ruggie talks about your crush he seems bitter and frustrated. When you ask Ruggie what's wrong, he initially plays it off as a joke. Eventually though, he seems to give up and he admits that he's jealous of this guy because he likes you too. Looking tired and defeated, he says "Honestly, I get why you'd choose him over me. It's not like I have much to offer you."

🐺 Jack:

If he doesn't have a crush on you: Jack gets really protective over you and treats your feelings very seriously. He tells you everything he knows about the guy and offers to talk to him for you or go with you to talk to him. Jack makes it very clear to your crush that if he ever does anything to make you sad, then Jack will do everything he can to protect your honor.

If he has a crush on you: Jack gets really quiet and thoughtful when you tell him about your crush. For the next few days, he avoids you and you can never seem to catch him. Eventually, Jack sees that his behavior is making you upset so he finally meets up with you. He tells you in a very straightforward way that he likes you and that he had hoped you liked him to. You've never seen him look so disappointed and brokenhearted. With a face filled with regret, he admits, "You're such an important member of my pack, I guess I just took it for granted that you'd always be around."

#request writing #twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst x reader #malleus draconia #deuce spade #azul ashengrotto #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #angst #unrequited love #bun-lapin écrit

[h0nology]

A Long Walk

Let's take a long walk around the park after dark, find a spot for us to spark

warnings: not proofread. wrote this at 12am, half asleep but its been on my mind for too long. fluff, kissing

You exit out your office, hurrying down the steps, eager to get home and start your long weekend.

Thump!

Your briefcase hits the ground as your body collides with another. Without even looking at the person in front of you, you reach for your briefcase but they beat you to it, picking it up and handing it to you.

“In a rush to get home, huh?”

When you looked up at the man, you weren't expecting to be met by such a beautiful face and familiar too but you couldn’t quite put your finger on where you’ve seen it before.

“I need every second of this weekend.” You let out a soft laugh, still mesmerized by the man in front of you.

He looked at you for a second, his eyes scanning over your face as a smile crept up on his. "Ah, I see," he chuckled. "Is this your office?"

You look back at the beautiful building that you are lucky to call your office. It’s been a long time coming, but you're grateful that your writing career has brought you here.

“Yes it is, actually.”

He clicks his tongue, looking up at the building before shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as a cool breeze passes. "Hey, uh, would you like to go on a walk with me?"

“A walk?”

Wasn’t really in your weekend plans but you couldn’t seem to say no to the handsome man in front of you.

"I'm Pedro, by the way. Sorry, I should've started with that." He says, pulling his hand out of his pocket to shake yours.

You gladly shook his hand, telling him your name in return. "Yes, Pedro, I'd like to go on a walk with you.” You replied with a smile.

He smiles back, surprised that you had actually said yes as you two began to walk side by side.

“Do you always go on walks with strangers or am I special?”

“There’s a first for everything.” You shrug, looking up at him.

"True," He agrees. "So, big fancy office. What is it that you do?"

“I’m a writer.” You tell him

“Oh really? What do you write?”

This was your favorite question, you loved talking about your writing.

"Anything my heart desires, really. My range is as vast as romance to sci-fi.” You reply.

“Is that what you’re working on right now?”

"Well, I wouldn't say working on...writer's block has been a pain in the ass.” You admit.

“Writers block…” He chuckles, “That’s a new one.”

“Enough about me, though.” You wave it off, “What is it that you do?”

Pedro was honestly in shock that you didn’t know who he was, but also in awe. He had finally found someone who he could click with, without it feeling forced or uncomfortable. He wanted to ask you ‘You really don’t know who I am?’ but then he’d be the jerk.

“Well, I act.” He tells you, “I’m an actor.”

You were expecting a photographer or a bank teller, anything but that. You admit it's a bit sad how out of touch you are with the internet. You don't really follow the latest shows and movies because you're usually nose deep in a book or writing your own.

“Do you find that hard to believe?” Pedro asks after you don’t respond.

“No! No, not at all.” You laugh, “What are you in?”

“Have you heard of Narcos?”

You wish you could say yes. You didn’t want to downplay his accomplishments of what he has acted in but you really have never heard of it.

“I’m lame, I’m sorry.” You shake your head, chuckling a bit.

“You’re far from lame, trust me.” He says, “Plus, it’s good to know this could be something genuine.”

“This?”

“Us.” He clarifies.

“So there’s an us now?” You ask, looking at him, “Get a girl a drink or something first.”

You just happened to be walking up on a smoothie shop, you swear you hadn’t seen it until Pedro smirked at you, doing a weird and overly dramatic gesture towards the sign. You laugh, walking in as he held the door open for you. The two of you entered the small and crowded space, placing your order and waiting for the blended goodness to come out. You took a seat as Pedro stood and waited for the smoothies, mindlessly you took out your notebook, jotting some thoughts down that had came to your mind as you studied the room around you.

“Inspiration flowing?” Pedro’s voice snapped you out the trance you were in.

“Yeah, that couple there reminds me of my characters.” You point your pen at the couple sitting down, the girls head resting on her boyfriend’s shoulder as he typed on his computer.

You hear Pedro chuckled before speaking, “Cmon, I want to show you something.”

You finished up your jotting, closing your notebook before standing up and following him out the shop, letting him lead the way to wherever he wanted to take you. As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the sky, Pedro eventually hooked his. The sky was painted in hues of pink, orange, and gold, and you couldn’t stop the thoughts for your book from coming in.

You two stopped in front of a pond, the sun reflecting on it beautifully. There was a bridge in the distance, the sun slowly but surely setting behind it. The gentle breeze whispered through the trees as you two stood there. You had finally turned towards him, looking up at him with his beautiful brown eyes.

“So why’d you want to show me this?”

“I wanted to show you something as beautiful as you.”

He's full of surprises. You didn't expect that at all, trying to hide the smile creeping onto your face. Your eyes dart between his eyes and lips, as his do the same, before he leans in and kisses you.

Your lips met tenderly, like two delicate petals brushing against each other. Time seemed to stand still as you savored the moment. It was a gentle exchange, filled with warmth and affection.

“Maybe you can put that in your book.”

#pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #pedro x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fluff

[lionlena]

We don't love each other (PedroPascalxreader) angst!

A/N: I can't believe I wrote ANGST. It breaks my heart. All because of this one gif. In my imagination, Tyler looks like Tyler Hoechlin.

Summary: You and Pedro are: friends with benefits, for many years. Your layout is simple and clear. You don't love each other. You're friends on a daily basis, you take care of each other... Sometimes you sleep together. You go on dates with other men and Pedro doesn't mind. Everything is simple until you accidentally hear Oscar say that Pedro loves you. Then you decide to tell him the truth and you ruin everything. 

Warnings: angst!!! smut, mentions of sex, friends with benefits, sad, broken hearts, age difference (reader is 15 years younger than Pedro)

*

You thought your arrangement with Pedro was transparent. You were friends with benefits. You two didn't spread it, but your closest friends guessed it.

You met Pedro a few years earlier when his career was just taking off. You liked each other and felt good about each other. You often went to parties together. One day you ended up in bed together. But you and Pedro didn't want something like that to end your friendship. Together, you made the decision to continue your friendship, adding benefits.

Men have needs... Women too.

You had to admit that Pedro was a truly wonderful man, not only in bed, but most of all, out of it. He took cared of you, gave you small gifts and comforted you after a date gone wrong. He was a great friend.

Unfortunately, over time, you realized that you felt something more for him. You really loved him, but you weren't going to tell him that. Pedro has always made it clear, "we don't love each other." He reinforced this position as his career began to take off. You understood and respected it. That's why you dated other men and didn't hide it from Pedro. You didn't sleep with him while you were in a relationship, and he respected that. Sometimes you were a little worried that Pedro rarely dated other women. But you explained it to yourself by his profession. He couldn't risk meeting someone who would announce to the world the next day: I slept with Pedro Pascal and he left me!!! He is an asshole!!!

Well, some women didn't understand that sleeping with a guy doesn't necessarily mean an engagement ring.

Yes, your arrangement with Pedro was clear, transparent and stable. You loved him, secretly, and he... He loved you as a friend. You thought so.

*

You were laughing on the phone when Pedro invited you to a party by the ocean that was supposed to last all weekend.

"Are you crazy! Did you really rent beach houses for everyone?"

"I want to celebrate my success! Y/N, you know me. I want everyone to have fun and no one to worry about how to get home."

"Are you suggesting we are going drink a lot?"

"A lot of!"

You both burst out laughing. You really enjoyed Pedro's success. He deserved it. Deserved all the love and attention. You knew what he went through in life. In your eyes, no one deserved it more that him.

"Okay. I think I can take a few days off."

"Wonderful. Just tell me, do you want a cottage for two?"

You bit your lip and started to think. Pedro obviously sensed that something was wrong and immediately asked:

"Hey, what's wrong? Did you and Tyler break up?"

"Uh, no... But things have gotten complicated for the moment and... I'd rather be alone."

"Okay, do you want to talk about it? I know I've been busy lately with The Last of Us , but we're still friends."

You smiled. Pedro was always worried about you, but you didn't want to spoil his mood.

"It's just a simple lovers' quarrel. He'll get over it."

"OK, see you soon."

"Bye, Pedrito."

You hung up and fell onto the couch. You lied when you said it was nothing. The truth was, you screwed everything up. You and Tyler were a couple for over seven months, it was your longest relationship. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Pedro was in Canada on the set of the show and rarely spoke. It was the truth you didn't want to admit. Tyler was handsome, kind, and... He took your relationship very seriously. A month ago at a family dinner, he knelt in front of you with an engagement ring, and you... You said no and ran.

You really didn't know why you did it. Why?! You tried to call Tyler many times and apologize to him, but he didn't answer. You weren't surprised at all. So you texted him explaining that you were just scared. But you knew it was a lie. The truth was, you missed Pedro. For his body, for having sex with him...

You screamed in rage and started throwing yourself on the couch.

After a few minutes, you decided to go through your wardrobe. Why would you care about Tyler when you could be with Pedro again in a few days. Even if he didn't love you, his presence could bring you comfort.

*

When you got out of the taxi a week later, you felt like you could breathe again and not think about Tyler.

The driver was just taking out your suitcase when you heard Pedro.

"Y/N!!!"

He ran straight at you and you jumped into his arms. You hugged him tightly and inhaled his scent. God, you finally felt good. You pulled back a bit to get a better look at him. You immediately noticed that he had a little more gray hair, but that only added to his hotness. He was wearing a white t-shirt and blue shorts. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you could see how his eyes sparkled. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. Pedro really loved see you.

"I missed you" you said and cupped his cheek with your hand.

"Me too," he purred.

"Who is already?"

"Oscar, Sarah, Linda, Thomas, Adam, Helen... And you. My most important guest."

You slapped his chest and pulled away.

"Stop. I know it's only because you haven't had sex."

It was a harmless joke, but you could easily see Pedro tense up.

"Hey, it's a joke... You know, nothing has changed. Our arrangement. Right?"

Pedro shook himself and nodded. He grabbed your suitcase with one hand and wrapped his other around your waist. He leaned his head towards you and whispered in your ear.

"You look lovely in that dress."

You couldn't help the blush that spread across your cheeks.

A few minutes later, Pedro was leaning against the doorframe of your beach house. He watched you unpack your suitcase. You glanced at him and noticed that he was strangely restless.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?"

"It's more of a question for you." He replied and took a few steps towards you. "We've known each other for over ten years Y/N. We started friendship when you were in your twenties. I know you and I know when you don't tell me everything. Imagine how surprised I was when I called Laura."

You suddenly felt your mouth go dry. Laura was a friend of yours and spoke to you regularly.

"She was very surprised to hear you were going to the party because I quote, Seriously, I thought she was devastated after she turned down Tyler's engagement."

You tried to read Pedro's face, but he was unfazed. You didn't know if he was angry or disgusted with you. You sighed heavily and sat on the bed.

"What do you want to hear, Pedro? I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was a bitch who broke a good guy's heart."

Pedro shook his head and sat next to you. He grabbed your hand and his thumb began to make comforting circles on your skin.

"I just want to know why? What happened between you two? Is it my fault? Is it because of our arrangement?”

You looked at him surprised.

"How did you get that idea? Tyler doesn't know about us. He know we're just friends, so don't blame yourself." You rested your head on his shoulder. "It just freaked me out, you know... His whole family was there. It wasn't fair. Like he thought I was going to say 'yes' for sure if they were looking at me. We haven't even talked about it and he suddenly jumps out with ring. Who does that?"

Pedro put his arm around you and pulled you closer.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I just want you to be happy."

You had to bite your tongue not to reply, "I'm happy. Here and now, with you." Instead, you pulled away from him and smiled.

"Hey, I'm not here to cry. I want to party, dance, drink and hear all the cool stories from the set."

"You want to hear how everyone was looking for me while I was sleeping?"

You started laughing out loud.

"Why doesn't this surprise me? You're the best nap-mate."

*

You felt wonderful during the party. You completely forget about Tyler. Pedro's hands on your hips while dancing were enough to make you happy. Everyone was laughing and drinking. When it started to get colder, Pedro lit a fire and you all sat on blankets..

Pedro, of course, was sitting next to you and hugging you. Still, you were shaking.

"Do you want my sweatshirt? I can bring you one." he asked tenderly.

He's always taken such good care of you. You nodded, but before he got up, you yourself were on your feet.

"Wait, I'll go myself. I have to use the bathroom anyway."

"Okay, take which one you want."

You didn't even notice that Oscar was watching the two of you closely.

You used the bathroom and sat on the bed to look through Pedro's suitcase. You felt your phone slip out of your pocket, so you took it out and set it aside. Then you noticed the navy blue sweatshirt Pedro was wearing earlier. You put it on and smiled as you smelled his perfume. When you got back to the fire, you took your seat and started talking to the others. At three o'clock in the morning, everyone was tired and slowly began to return to their temporary homes. You were going to do it too, but not before Pedro hugged you and kissed your head.

"Goodnight, Sunshine."

"Night, Pedrito ."

You gave him one last hug and walked towards your beach house. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Oscar grab Pedro's elbow and pull him aside. You didn't care. They were very close and always had things to discuss.

You threw yourself on your bed with a big smile. You wanted to check your phone when you realized you left it in Pedro's house. You groaned and got up. However, when you were about to enter Pedro, you heard Oscar's voice through the ajar door.

"Dude, you're exaggerating."

"Leave me alone, I didn't do anything. You can see I don't have Y/N here."

You were about to leave when you realized they were talking about you.

Oscar sighed heavily.

"You were about to let it go. You said you'd distance yourself, and what are you doing... You stick to her like a horny teenager during the dance, and then... "You want my hoodie" How old are you?

Your heart was beating like crazy.

"It doesn't mean anything to her anyway and... I just wanted her to have fun and forget about Tyler."

Oscar snorted as if he didn't believe his friend's words at all.

"You have to stop it, Pedro. Loving Y/N is destroying you. You don't date other women. You don't start serious relationships..."

You wanted to keep listening, but Oscar moved closer to the entrance, and you were afraid he'd see you. Besides, you thought you'd heard enough. You decided to go back to your cottage and watch from the window when Oscar left Pedro.

The waiting was a nightmare. You jumped and squealed and bit your lip.

Pedro loved you!!! He loved you!!! You were so happy. You finally can told him the truth. Poor guy thought he meant nothing to you. You had to change it.

As soon as you saw that Oscar left Pedro's cottage, you ran to the mirror. You fixed your hair and makeup. You almost ran outside and in less than five minutes you were on the doorstep of the beach house. You knocked lightly and entered. Pedro was sitting on the bed looking tired. You giggled like a teenager.

"You are not sleep yet, old man?"

He lifted his head and looked at you surprised.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?"

You smiled at him and winked at him.

"I left my phone on your bed while I was getting your sweatshirt."

He turned around and when he saw your cell phone he nodded. You shifted restlessly from foot to foot. You couldn't wait any longer. Maybe it was the alcohol still coursing through your veins, but you just let it out.

"I love you."

"What?"

"I love you Pedro, I..."

Pedro jumped to his feet and shook his head furiously.

"NO!"

You were surprised by the anger you saw in his eyes.

"You're drunk," he growled.

Now you felt angry.

"No more than you," you gasped. "I know what I'm saying and you don't have to hide it anymore. Don't get upset. I accidentally overheard what Oscar was saying."

"You obviously didn't hear everything Y/N. You didn't hear me tell him that I don't want to love you, that it's just a problem..."

You felt like someone had punched you in the face.

"I'm a problem?"

Pedro huffed in annoyance and ran a hand over his face.

"Not you. My love for you is the problem. I'm not in a place where I'm supposed to love someone. Maybe I never will be. You're younger and you live a quiet life with no paparazzi. Do you really want to ruin it all for some fleeting feeling?"

You clenched your hands into fists.

"I've loved you for a long time, you fool!"

"Stop! Why are you ruining everything?! Why did you have to love me back?!"

 You couldn't believe that the same Pedro who hugged you when you cried was standing in front of you. The same one who brought you coffee in bed and kissed you on the forehead when you fell asleep. A complete stranger was standing in front of you. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore.

Pedro, seeing this, suddenly regained his composure. He looked at you resignedly.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I never meant to make you cry, but... I really don't want to love you."

He took a step towards you, but you jumped back. You quickly ran to where you left your phone and shouted:

"Leave me! Never come near me again!!!”

Then you just ran out of his beach house and locked yourself in yours. For a while you wondered if Pedro would try to get to you, but apparently he took your words to heart. You cried all night, and in the morning you packed up and called a taxi. By the time everyone woke up, you were already halfway home.

 Only one person saw you leave. His brown and tear-filled eyes watched intently as you disappeared from his life on forever.

*

Up all night on another red-eye I wish we never learned to fly Maybe we should just try To tell ourselves a good lie Didn't mean to make you cry Maybe won't you take it back? Say you were tryna make me laugh And nothing has to change today You didn't mean to say "I love you" I love you and I don't want to, ooh

Billie Eilish- I love you (cover/ male version)

Part II

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #Joel Miller #pedro pascal and you #angst #its so sad

[milfjuulpod]

As Long As You’ll Have Me

summary: five times Melissa notices reader’s depression/mental illness, and tries to help.

warnings/content: mentions of mental overstimulation, anxiety, depression, overall sad themes BUT IS COMFORT AT THE END OF EACH I PROMISE

a/n: heyyy 🤡 i wrote this def for myself so sorry about that LOL i know it’s different from the usual plot and style but i hope u enjoy nonetheless. kisses for my bitches xoxo

I.

You loved your job, more than anything in the world. Working with kids was a blessing, you loved getting to watch them grow and learn together, and being part of that process was something you did not take for granted. So on a fateful Wednesday, when you seemingly had no interest in crafting with your kids, Melissa knew something was wrong.

       “Hey hon, is everything going okay?” Melissa asked you as the two of you sat beside each other in the break room. Not wanting to lie to someone so special to you, you simply sighed in response and gave her a weak smile. Which, of course, Melissa did not take for an answer. She asked you again, much quieter this time. “I know you love crafting with your kids baby, what’s a matter?” You felt her hand slide under the table to gently grab yours, rubbing her thumb over your knuckles. 

        “I couldn’t sleep last night, my mind was going a million miles an hour. I want to craft with them I just…” You slumped in your chair a bit, not letting go of Melissa’s hand. “I don’t have the energy for it. I don’t have the energy for anything.” Melissa could feel her heart crack piece by piece at the sight of her beloved so deflated. The look in her eyes was…different. Whenever you looked at Melissa, her eyes always told you a story, and told you how she felt. But today, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the watery look she held as she continued to squeeze your hand. 

         Every night after that, if you had trouble sleeping, Melissa would come over and snuggle you under blankets to make sure you got enough hours in. 

II.

   The following weekend, Melissa was due to come over and make you breakfast. Usually, Friday nights one of you would follow the other home and spend the weekend together, but yesterday you felt like you couldn’t commit. After Melissa’s continuous reassurance that she wasn’t upset with you for delaying, you told her to come over Saturday morning. 

      When Melissa’s alarms went off, she felt something was wrong. Her whole morning, she felt like she was doing something she wasn’t supposed to. Of course she knew you told her to come over, but with the way you’ve been closed off lately, Melissa decided to wait, as long as she could. She packed her bag with her clothes (and some for you), got the cooler ready because she went a bit overboard with grocery shopping, and waited. When it hit noon and you still hadn’t called her, the determined redhead left her house and headed for yours. 

       With swift movements Melissa allowed herself into your apartment, remembering where your spare key was. Melissa still called it your spare, even though you refer to it as her key. All the lights in the apartment were still off, dishes from dinner on the table, and the loudest white noise possible could be heard from behind the bedroom door. After setting her stuff down in the kitchen, Melissa creeped towards your door to check on you. She was met with your body starfished in the bed, using two blankets, pillows strewn across the entire room somehow, and her old college sweatshirt swallowed you up. 

       Melissa’s eyes softened at the sight, half out of love, half out of sadness. She knew something was wrong, from you canceling yesterday to sleeping in much later than usual, the cherry on top being your comfort sweater that she knew needed to be washed. Deciding to let you sleep a bit longer, Melissa retreated to the kitchen to get started on breakfast lunch. 

 •••

       You were woken up by fingers running through your hair, slowly working their way down to your back. “Good morning sweetheart,” Melissa greeted you. Instantly you smiled at her waking you up, pulling her in for a kiss. “Good morning, I’m sorry about last night,” you said, sitting up to talk to her. Melissa sighed and pulled you by your hands to stand with her. “Stop apologizing baby,” she told you between kisses. “I know that sometimes you struggle with everything going on in your head, and I come prepared for it. You don’t have to apologize to me, nothing you ever do is a burden.” 

       Even though your day had just started, you could cry. Both at Melissa’s sweet words, and the realization that she did pick up on all of your behaviors, including the ones you weren’t too proud of. “Now, you’ve slept in long enough, and if your lunch gets cold I’ll be pissed. And then you’ll have to apologize,” Melissa teased. “You made me lunch already? We always cook together,” you asked. 

        Melissa looked at you for a moment before answering, as if she was scared to say the wrong thing. “I know, but I knew something was wrong. Then when I came in and you were still sleeping, I just wanted you to have a little bit more peace before waking you up.” She started playing with your fingers out of a nervous habit. “But now your food is ready for you, and we can start your day easy,” Melissa ended her explanation with a kiss, and guided you out of your room with a tight grip of her hand on yours. 

 III.

  When you complained about a headache for the third time that day, Melissa decided it was time to do some digging. At this point in the relationship, Melissa has learned that you won’t outright ask for help. She has also learned that if she offers the right thing, you’ll let her help. So, on the car ride back to her house after work, Melissa began going through the day to figure out what was off. 

         Okay, she picked us up coffee, we sat in the break room. Nothin’ out of the ordinary so far. Then lunch, and she worked through it, and then classes- 

        Finally, it clicked. You haven’t eaten yet. Melissa pulled out her phone to call you. “Hey honey, do you wanna come over tonight for an early dinner? I’ve already got some stuff in the works,” she asked. It didn’t take long before you were at Melissa’s doorstep, both eager to see your girlfriend and have some food finally. Once dinner was ready and the two of you were sharing bites, Melissa decided it was time to ask. “So, anything going on today baby?” 

         You were shocked at her sudden inquiry, assuming you had done a good job at hiding your feelings. “Not particularly, just one of those days I suppose. Why do you ask?” You played with your food a bit as you spoke, eating slow as ever. Melissa stood up from her seat and re-sat herself in your lap, one arm around your neck for support, the other reaching for your plate. 

         As she answered, she took a forkful and lifted it to your lips, “You wouldn’t stop complaining about a headache, figured you hadn’t eaten yet. And if you would just tell me you weren’t feeling well, I could take care of you until you’re ready to do it yourself again,” Melissa leaned in closer to your face as she smiled, letting you know all of her words were gentle, and coming from a place of love. You took advantage of the position the two of you were in, and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. “Thank you, Mel. I promise I’ll get better at reaching out.” 

        From that day forward, Melissa always made sure to have some of your safe foods stocked in her house for when you asked. 

IV.

     Dealing with overstimulation was nothing new to you—although, sometimes it happened at the worst times. Walking into school one Monday, you were already not feeling well. Coffee had spilled on the sleeve of your sweater in the car, the sun was excruciatingly bright, and when you walked into the doors of Abbott Elementary, you were met with a lot of loud noises. The break room was filled with staff, many conversations happening at once. But breaking routine certainly wouldn’t help, at least not yet. 

       Putting on a brave face, you waltzed in and made a beeline for the fridge. Before you could make much progress on making a new coffee, Janine and Jacob were at your heels, talking over each other as they tried to tell you the same story from that same morning. “And then I couldn’t find my classroom key,” Janine started, before Jacob finished her thought. “So I had to jimmy my key into it and it WORKED! Can you believe we could use any key to open the classrooms? I mean, not the safest idea am I right?” He joked. 

      “Yeah, it’s crazy,” you responded. Feeling the intense wave of emotion as you were met with too many smells and sounds, you knew you had to get out of there soon. Forgetting your coffee, you grabbed your things and walked as fast as your tired legs could carry you out of the busy scenery. As you were getting out your keys, a voice made itself present, causing you to jump a bit. “Hey sweetheart,” Melissa said quietly, taking note of your sudden movements. “Are you having a rough morning?” 

      “Yeah, I just needed to get out of there. I’m sorry for not saying good morning.” Even though you were speaking to your girlfriend, you couldn’t look at her. Too much emotional intensity for the moment. Sliding into your classroom, you left the door open behind you, inviting Melissa in. She reached for the light switch, but your hand quickly grabbed hers. “Please don’t turn the lights on, I need a minute.” 

      “My love, what’s goin’ on? You overwhelmed or something?” The older woman asked, using her grip on your hand to pull you closer to her. Once in reach, Melissa took your bag off your shoulders. You smiled at the loving action, the first time you smiled this morning. “Mhm,” you pouted, “My sleeves are wet and itchy, the sun was too bright on my drive over, and then everybody was so loud. It makes me…I don’t know I just can’t seem to function and I get all stressed out and emotional and-”

       “Baby, baby, slow down. You can’t calm down if you can’t breathe through your words,” Melissa stopped you from continuing down the spiral. You felt her arms wrap around your waist and instinctively you put your arms over her shoulders. With a gentle tug, you pulled Melissa into you, shutting out all other sounds and sights. Nothing but her. Inhaling deeply, the smell of her shampoo brought you back down to earth. She was safe, familiar, she felt like home to you. 

      “Thank you,” you mumbled into her neck. Melissa giggled at your sudden appreciation, “For what hon? I haven’t done anything yet.” You pulled your head up to finally face her. “You don’t have to do anything, Mel. Just being here is enough, it pulls me out of that overwhelming feeling. You remind me that I’m okay.” Her green eyes looked back at yours with such love and care, it made you forget about everything bad that happened. Melissa leaned into you as she gave you a kiss, loving and gentle. “I have a hoodie of mine in my classroom, do you want to wear that? Take this off so it stops bothering you, amore.” She spoke so softly to you. You nodded, and she left to grab the aforementioned hoodie. 

      For the rest of the day, the smell of Melissa’s perfume clouded your senses, keeping you grounded as you taught throughout the day. Unbeknownst to you, she sprayed it with her your favorite scent before giving it to you. 

    

V.

   For the first time seemingly ever, Melissa and you were in the same house, different rooms. The usual routine had occurred, both of you driving to her place for the weekend. But when you snapped at dinner, the routing had changed. 

      “I just want to help you sweetheart,” Melissa practically begged you. You were having another episode of sorts, too emotionally overwhelmed from the day and now everything was on one hundred. “I know you do Melissa, okay? I know. But sometimes I can’t be helped and you just have to let that go. All I want to do right now is cry and curl up in a ball and lay there until I can’t take it anymore and fall asleep for the next day and a half.” With a slam of your hands on the table, you stormed off to Melissa’s guest room, which was also out of routine. 

      As you walked the hall and shut the door behind you, the tears started and didn’t want to stop. Guilt flooded all of your emotions like a tidal wave, you were shocked at yourself for snapping at her like that. It was Melissa for Christ’s sake. The only person in the world you wanted when you felt like this. But not today, today you wanted to scream and cry and run away from the new job and new life you had found yourself comfortable in. 

      Although, that clearly wasn’t an option. So you settled on doing exactly what you mentioned to your girlfriend—crying in bed until you fell asleep. You crawled into the made bed, not bothering to pull up the blankets. Laying down curled up, you allowed yourself to cry until you finally stopped and went to sleep. It wasn’t until midnight when you finally arose from your tear-induced nap, the pounding headache was enough to pull you from sleep. Anxiety hit you immediately as you recalled what had happened just before. Feeling so out of control, lashing out at Melissa, you felt awful. With a deep breath to prepare, you headed back to the living room to see what she was up to. 

       Turning the corner of the hallway, your eyes were met with something you had never seen before. Not from Melissa, not from anyone. The redhead was passed out on her couch, surrounded by the most random assortment of items. Some stuffed animals, a sweater, three different books, a puzzle, and more that you couldn’t quite see. As you got closer, you realized they were all yours. Melissa had pulled out every single one of your comfort items to try and help, even when you weren’t around. Sitting down next to her, you gently brushed away some of Melissa’s hair on her face while she slept. Before long, she was rustling underneath you. “Baby?” Her eyes popped open at the sound of your voice. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for coming over here into your house and yelling at you of all people. I know that you just want to make me feel better, but what I said before is true,” you took her hand in yours before continuing, hoping it’ll help her understand. “Sometimes, there is nothing you can do. As much as you and I both want it, sometimes helping doesn’t…help…I guess…” You smiled at your lack of elegance with words, and Melissa couldn’t help but return the expression. 

        You gave her a soft kiss, holding her cheek with your free hand. “But,” another kiss, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that and stormed off. I am so sorry Melissa. I haven’t been this open with my emotions in a long, long time and clearly I need to work on a few things, but for you I will. I promise.”

         Now it was Melissa’s turn to give you a kiss. And then another, and another for good luck. “That scared me, hon. It’s okay, because I know you didn’t mean to, but, wow. I do not want to get on your bad side,” she joked. “But I forgive you, and as long as you keep trying and I keep trying, we’ll be okay. You will be okay, my love.” Melissa wrapped her arms around your neck and gave you one more kiss. This one, for love. “I love you sweetheart, and I’m not going anywhere as long as you’ll have me.”

        Her words echoed in your head. I love you. She had never said it before. You felt it, that was for sure, and both of you have had a few moments where it almost slipped, but this was for real. Melissa loved you, and she wanted you to know it. “I love you too, Mel. I’ll have you as long as you’ll stay.”

#melissa schemmenti headcanon #abbott elementary fics #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #reader fic #wlw #lesbian #melissa hours #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader

[till-you-scream-and-cry]

Background noise

Pairing: Ethan x Fem!Reader

summary: you and Ethan have a special bond, but when problems appear, things get painful

word count: 2.1 k

contents: polyamory (kinda), angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, some smut, mentions of not eating, 

author’s note: wrote a little something while i’m trying to come up with some bigger project, i hope you’ll like it 💕

Måsterlist | tåglist

**************************

“Are you sure there’s no other way?” 

Ethan asked quietly, his voice was soft and filled with sadness. A few hours earlier you got a message from your university, that your scholarship has been accidentally granted, and you must return for the final semester to your home country. 

“I emailed them, called and talked to several people. They all said the same thing. I need to go back.” You sat down heavily on his bed and curled up in his lap. His hand immediately found its way to your hair, gently stroking your head.

“I don’t want you to go.” He whispered. 

“I don’t want to go either.” 

You lay there, cuddled up in silence, trying to somehow get used to the thought that in a few days, you won’t have that closeness, you won’t feel each other’s warmth, skin. You won’t be able to smell his shampoo and talk for hours before falling asleep. He was special, the kind of love you’ve seen in movies, and read in books with flushed cheeks, hidden with a flashlight under a blanket. You weren’t expecting even to find friends during your stay in Rome, yet somehow you found something much better. 

You met him at a flea market, on one chilly Sunday morning. After a short while you got closer. He introduced you to his friends, which seemed to be fond of you as well. At least that’s what he told you. You lived in your perfect little world, without labels, fights, and jealousy, but with lots of mutual love, care, and passion. 

One evening you bumped into a really handsome guy – Marco. In the heat of the moment, the three of you ended up in Ethan’s flat, and more specifically his bed. After a long night, full of love in every form, you and Ethan made a decision to keep him around. First, he was supposed to be a fun addition to your sex life, but something about Marco charmed Ethan. You felt close to him, attracted to him, but without any bigger feelings. He was fun and made Ethan happy, and that’s all you cared about.

The next morning after the sad news arrived, the three of you met at Ethan’s flat for breakfast.

“I’m not leaving you alone, you’ll have someone to keep you company while I’m gone.” You smiled at Ethan.

“She’s right, I won’t let you mourn.” Marco squeezed Ethan’s hand and winked at you.

Ethan sat in silence with a forced smile, trying to stay composed and ignore his watery eyes.

About three weeks had passed. You managed to somehow fill your days enough to keep yourself from crying, filled with heartache. You missed Ethan so damn much and kept counting the days till your visit. 

A loud buzzing noise woke you up. You fell asleep with your face on your desk. Again. Trying to study, handling sleepless nights and somehow maintaining a social life to stay sane, were catching up with you. You glanced at your vibrating phone, trying to see what time it is.

“Vic? Hey.” You mumbled, still rubbing your eyes, you hissed as the smeared mascara started burning a little. 

“Hi, umm… Sorry, I'm calling this late but…” Vic sounded a bit nervous, which wasn’t something you’ve seen often.

“What happened? Everything ok?” you were surprised by your own, trembling voice.

“It’s Ethan… I don’t want to tell you too much, you should talk. He’s not doing great.”

Your heart started beating like crazy, your breath got shorter and faster. 

“Is he alright? Safe?!” You said a bit too loudly.

“Physically yes, we’re making sure he’s safe. Mentally… Can you please come here this weekend? I know it’s short notice, but…”

“I’ll be there tomorrow.” You said and ended the call. 

You sat down on your bed, with a thousand thoughts racing through your head. He seemed a bit odd for the past few days but still seemed like himself. Just a bit more busy than usual. You took a deep breath, realizing how fast you were bouncing your legs and how red your cuticles got from you biting on them.

“Fuck…” You mumbled and grabbed a laptop to book flights. A few moments later your bag was already packed, waiting for a morning bus to the airport.

You couldn’t sleep at all, Ethan wasn’t responding to any of your messages. All you had was a chat with Vic, Thomas, and Damiano who kept reassuring you with their messages, that even though it looks terrible, they had things under control.

The road to the airport and the flight were a blur. Damiano picked you up with an apologetic smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t want to scare you, but I genuinely don’t remember the last time he was in such a state. There’s no way of talking to him, he’s just, absent.”

You gave him a hug and gently patted his back.

“I hope I can help.” You mumbled.

On the ride, Damiano told you a little about what happened in the last few days. Since leaving Ethan alone in his flat wasn’t an option, the four of them moved to their summer house, where they usually spent free time creating new music. Ethan allowed them to pack his bags, and drive him to the spot. He sadly climbed the stairs and locked himself up in a room. He spent a full two days there, before letting anyone inside. He refused to eat, drink and talk to anyone. He never said what happened, which made them even more concerned. 

“So we’ve decided that besides us, you’re the only person he might actually listen to. We tried to reach his sisters, but they’re abroad, apparently without a signal.” 

You sighed and shook your head. 

Damiano opened the door for you and grabbed your luggage. Vic and Thomas were in the living room, waiting for you. Both of them gave you hugs.

“Thank you, really. We got so worried…” Thomas said, his voice cracking at the last syllable. Vic wrapped her arms around him and kissed his temple.

“He’s upstairs in his room, right?” 

They nodded.

“We’ll give you some space and go shopping. Call us if you need anything.” Damiano sent you a pale smile and closed the door behind the three of them. 

You slowly climbed the stairs with a racing heart, scared to find out what happened. You opened the heavy door to his room with a loud squeak. Ethan was curled up on the bed, his hair all messy, dressed only in boxers and an old shirt he once had stolen from you. You closed the door behind you and walked closer.

“Ethan?” You said quietly. He quickly turned around and looked at you.

“You came?” His voice was shaky, it cracked at the last syllable. His face was pale, eyes red and teary, his lips puffy from crying.

“Of course I did.” You said, with great concern in your voice. 

You sat down at the edge of the bed. Ethan without a word, crawled closer, he put his face on your lap and wrapped his arms around you. You leaned down and kissed his head, embracing him in a tight hug. Suddenly you felt wetness on your thighs. His tears were hot, he choked on them quietly.

“My love, what happened?” You whispered, not letting him go, still holding him tight.

“Marco…he turned out to be a bastard.” Ethan blurted out.

“What did he do? Where is he now?” You asked with a big frown. 

Ethan sat up and wiped his eyes. He looked at you and cleared his throat.

“As soon as you left, he started acting differently. He kept saying that it’s good that you left, and that now we can be alone. We started fighting about that. I kept repeating that I love you, and he didn’t like that. I should’ve known something was up, he kept insisting on going out with me, trying to meet my friends and people from the label. And well…” he sighed and started rubbing his forehead.

“Did he hurt you?” You whispered.

“We went to a party, I caught him kissing with some guy. I asked what’s that about? He was drunk and said a bit too much.”

He shook his head and looked up at you.

“He said that he’s embarrassed by how I look, that I like makeup, with how I dress, that I talk about some bullshit that interests me. He said that I’m pathetic and that he just wanted to fuck and meet people to expand his photography business. He said that to my face with lots of people listening.”

You loudly exhaled. Both of you sat there in silence. You couldn’t believe that anyone could treat another person so horribly. Especially, Ethan, a person who you knew wouldn’t hurt a fly. And to do that while he was vulnerable and in love? You couldn’t wrap your head around this. All you could do was cup his face and look deeply into his eyes, with all the love you had for him.

“Ethan… I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve to be treated like this. None of it is true. I love you so much for who you are. Anyone who thinks otherwise doesn’t deserve your attention. 

He swallowed hard, a tear rolled down his cheek. You smiled softly and wiped it with your finger.

“Thank you, for being you. And for loving me, despite everything.” He whispered, nuzzling his face to your hand.

“How could I not love you?” You cupped his face and kissed him gently, scared that he’ll fall apart. You broke off the kiss and pressed your forehead to his. “I’m here now, and I’ll keep you safe.”

Ethan nodded and cuddled into you, wrapping his arms around your middle. 

Once you managed to calm him down a little, you made a bubble bath for him. He was exhausted from lack of sleep, food, and dehydration. Seeing him like this, barely able to stand on his own, was breaking your heart. You helped him get into the tub, sat beside him and started gently washing his hair. He sighed as you started massaging his scalp. Once you finished, you helped him wrap himself in a fluffy bathrobe and get back to his room. He sat in a big chair in front of the mirror and watched your every move as you started brushing his tangled hair. You saw a soft smile on his face and kissed his shoulder. When you finished, he moved back to bed. 

“Thank you. It really means so much.” He said quietly, looking at you with soft eyes.

“You don’t need to thank me, it’s what you deserve.”

“Come here.” He was sitting on the bed, his back resting against the frame. He patted his lap.

You crawled closer and sat on him, straddling him, and put both hands on his shoulders. His face changed and brightened up immediately. 

“I missed you…” his hands started wandering over your back and your sides. “All of you…” He whispered as his thumbs brushed your breasts.

“I missed you too.” You dragged your hands down to his chest, looking deeply into his eyes. 

He cupped your face and pulled you into a deep and passionate kiss. You sighed against his lips and rolled your hips. He moaned quietly, you felt his cock twitch underneath you. The only barrier between you two was your underwear and bathrobe. 

“Do you want me?” He said in a breathy voice.

“I always do.” You replied.

Ethan parted his bathrobe, and his hardening cock bounced back. You looked down and grabbed him, slowly stroking him. He once again kissed you, this time it was more messy and hungry. 

“Please…” He whimpered.

You lifted your dress a little and moved your soaked panties aside. He grabbed your hips and pulled you down on his cock, stretching you around him.  You both moaned loudly. Ethan started guiding your hips with one hand, helping you find the rhythm. His other hand kept teasing your breast. You both started panting loudly, filling the room with your noises. You put your hands on his shoulder and started moving faster, riding him the way you knew he loved. You were both on edge, chasing your release. The pent-up lust and passion from weeks of being apart caught up with both of you. You sped up your pace, feeling Ethan thrusting up into you harder. You threw your head back, feeling the tension building up inside of you. He grabbed your hips firmly and started slamming into you. Seconds later you both came hard, moaning loudly. You looked down at him, his dreamy eyes and flushed cheeks. He looked gorgeous. Ethan wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest. While still panting, he whispered against your neck.

“All I ever needed was you. All of you. The rest is just a background noise.”

**************

tåglist: @thewitchinthemountain @8iunie @tempobrucera @coven-daddy @bethanysnow @writingmaneskin @blackberryblossom @hiraetheral @theimpossiblehologramtree @ilwiwbysmv @weareoddlydrawn @jrj2 @bieberhoodforever @chesirecatt @que--sera--sera @iamtashaquinn @butkutee @ohdamiano @stardustingold @woahzz11 @cuzimitaliano @thegeminisgirl @bisexual-babygirl-mj @maneslut @eliseline @dpaccione @xweirdxsceletton @agentreid2 @roisinlove123 @vicdeangelis @ohladymoon @ykaaarus @androgynouscloudenemy   @lovelyy-moonlight @anaislfbv @DarcyMåneWinx @esposadomd @chiaraxtargaryen @flowerfeastrry @mandy-bo-bandy @itsbearss @woddiemmi @sournatromanoff @lavendernlemons  @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic 

#ethan torchio #ethan torchio x fem!reader #ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio smut #ethan torchio angst #ethan torchio fluff #angst #fluff #smut #hurt/comfort #maneskin #maneskin fiction #maneskin writing #ethan maneskin

[20-th-centurygirl]

here for you

mason mount x fem!reader

warnings: angst, fluff.

summary: Mason comforts a sad reader who's having family problems ☹️

a/n: this was a request so I hope I wrote something that the anon loves 🫶🏻

masterlist

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Another argument with your dad. You couldn't even properly remember what caused it but you were beginning to reach your breaking point. He constantly spoke down to you and make you feel stupid and yoy felt as if you had nowhere to go. Whilst Mason was aware of your relationship with your dad, he didn't know the full extent and that made you hesitant to go over to his house or at least phone him but you had no choice.

You sat in your car near his house but not right outside, you were still debating whether you going to see him but you knew you just couldn't deal with going back home yet. So you ended up driving to his house and knocking on his door. When he opened the front door, surprise washed over his face for a split second before his eyes lit up and a huge grin took over his face. "Hi love, is everything okay? I didn't know you were coming over." You'd kept it together but the moment he asked if you were okay you crumbled completely, Mason wrapping you up in his arms instantly. He brought one his hands up to gently stoke your hair as you buried your face in the crook of his neck letting all of the pent up frustration and sadness go. He said nothing, knowing that all you really needed was his presence.

Once he felt you'd calmed down a bit he led you over to the sofa, gripping onto your hand reassuringly. He sat down and pulled you onto his lap, your legs either side of his thighs as you buried your face back into his neck. "What's going on? Is it your dad again?" You could only nod as you felt tears pool in your eyes again. "Oh love." He kissed your hair repeatedly as his hands reassuringly ran up and down your back. You pulled your head back to look at him, and the sight shattered Mason's heart and left him fighting back his own tears. "What happened this time? Honestly I'm gonna kill him." His soft tone a contrast with his harsh words. "Was just the usual. And normally I just go and hide up in my room and he stays downstairs and I leave him to calm down but he started bringing you up. Saying all these horrible things about you, like you were stealing me from him and you were probably of cheating on me every weekend because that's what footballers do and he just made me so angry. So I left. I'm sorry for coming over here I just didn't know where to go. Can I stay here tonight?" "Can you stay here tonight? Babe I'm never letting you leave this house again. Move in with me? We can go and get all your stuff when he's at work tomorrow, I'll say I'm ill and you can live here yeah? Then you can finally get away from him. " His eyes never left your face as he anxiously waited for your reply. "Really? I don't want you to say this because you feel like you need to." "Yeah. I've wanted to ask for a few weeks now. I'll ring in sick tomorrow and go round with you and that man can finally be out your life." He moved down and pressed a gentle, loving kiss to your mouth as a way of silently proving he wanted you to live with him. "And I promise you now, I would never ever in a million years cheat on you. I love you doesn't even begin to explain how I feel about you. You are my entire world." He swiped away a few stray tears that rolled down your cheeks, flashing you a smile that brought a small one onto your own face. "You're gonna make me cry out of happiness now." You sniffled and Mason huffed out a small chuckle, kissing your forehead. "And I know you won't. I trust you. And anyway even if you do have another girlfriend coming round every Saturday I'm here now so I'll know." You teasingly poked his nose. "I'll have to meet her in hotels instead then won't I?" He leaned down and pressed another kiss to your pouted lips. "Go and have a quick shower and I'll order your favourite okay?" You went to climb off him but you stopped, gaining a confused look from Mason. "Thank you. I love you." He gave you the sincerest smile you'd ever seen. "I love you too."

#footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football imagine #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount

[genocidehim]

Ven conmigo (Nacho Varga x reader)

I don't know what this is, I wrote it yesterday at 3am and was feeling the need for something sad with that man.

notes: one-shot, angst. words: 710

Normally, you wouldn't receive his calls in the middle of the night during the week. Nacho knew you would be very tired during these hours and preferred to wait until the next morning or the weekend, but he decided to break his peace treaty against your sleep schedule and called you at two in the morning.

He babbled things on the phone and asked you to see him. In response to your tired reply, you invited him to your house and waited for it to not be anything problematic.

Now he was in your arms on the couch in your living room, so quiet that you could only hear his heavy breathing and the beating of your heart. He seemed much more tired than you and that was enough for you not to ask.

Both of you had a complicated relationship, nothing was formal and you knew perfectly well that he was involved in things that put him in constant danger, you knew that when you saw him injured more than once, but you didn't ask and he appreciated that. In some way, you were a breath of fresh air from all the crap he endured day in and day out, and he was good company for you after the monotony of the week. Although curiosity was eating away at you, you didn't want to ask. You just stayed silent, observing him while running your fingers over his smooth, bronzed skin, feeling his body heat on top of you. It was a beautiful sight from your perspective, how a man so big and robust could feel so small in your arms, and how his broad hands held your back with affection and a little bit of pressure.

Nacho's face was nestled in your neck, and you could feel his warm breath tickling you. If it were any other situation, you would be so hot that you could set your house on fire, but you didn't want to break the comfort that both of you had because of your lust.

"I'm sorry for waking you up so late..." his soft voice drowned in the hollow of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"Don't worry, it's Saturday tomorrow...well, today." You chuckled, and you could feel him smiling in response. Nacho tried to get up from his comfortable position, and although he remained in your arms, he looked at you with a certain melancholy that you could only find in his eyes. He looked sadder than usual today.

Before you could even formulate another word, his lips met yours, and you felt a certain need in them. Surprised, you held onto his biceps, and he took your face in his hands, feeling the warmth in the palm of his hands, which made you close your eyes. His lips moved eagerly, as if trying to take your entire mouth to savor it. He even felt too needy just before taking a step back to observe you for a few seconds while continuing to distribute short, small kisses before finishing.

"I need you to come with me..." "Go where?" you asked with confusion, unable to process everything that was happening clearly.

"Anywhere, irnos a donde sea…" and you could feel how his words felt sadder than usual, making your heart ache to see him so vulnerable. "If the time comes, I want to leave here with you and my father."

You didn't quite understand what he was asking for or why he suddenly seemed so anxious for an answer. You sensed it was only tiredness and desperation, as Nacho didn't usually talk like this or even hint that he needed you in this way, so you didn't want to make too much of it.

"If that time comes… I'll accompany you" you vaguely promised without much sincerity. Although the idea that he could see you at the same level of importance as his father made you happy, he was asking for something too impossible.

"Please..." he pleaded with that sad look that he only gave to you, and his long lashes fell until his eyes closed completely. Then he lay back on his shoulder and sighed tiredly.

A man so tough was lingering in your arms, and you didn't know what to do.

#better call saul x reader #breaking bad x reader #bcs x reader #nacho varga #nacho varga x reader #nacho varga fluff #nacho bcs #ignacio varga

[dervaaas]

Hi!! Do you have any childhood-friends-to-lovers x reader headcanons for Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira and Hyoma Chigiri?

Childhood-friends-to-lovers

Characters: Sae Itoshi; Yoichi Isagi; Meguru Bachira; Hyoma Chigiri

Gn!reader

Hi! thank you for your inquiry! I didn't have it, but I wrote it! I hope I understood everything correctly.

Honestly, I don't know if any events in chapters 183 and beyond are revealed about the past of these characters, because I don't want to buy a subscription to new chapters where I read and I don't know where to get them to read at least in English. so I'm focusing on chapters up to 183.

I really hope that I managed to write gn!reader if this is not the case, please tell me how to do it!

Sae Itoshi

— Being children. Most likely, he paid just as much attention to football and Rin as he did to you. He will definitely ask you to be at one of the matches; he secretly wants to seem cool, although he does not understand it or does not notice it for himself, but he is still a cool brother and friend!

— Awareness of falling in love. Most likely it happened during his departure. He began to realize that he was too sad to leave you. In principle, he did not burden you with it somehow, and there was no time for it. Without realizing it, he will start thinking about you more than it happened before.

— The relationship is now. I'm more than sure that he said his feelings out loud, and even right in the forehead, but he was still worried about it. Maybe he has changed in relation to everything, but the attitude towards you has not changed much, but still there is that chill to everything. He really genuinely loves you, but at the same time he worries that maybe his fans can somehow influence you. In a way, you make him feel stressed all the time.

Yoichi Isagi

— Being children. He has been insecure since childhood and it was a pleasant surprise for his parents when he was able to make friends with someone. It was probably an initiative on your part.

— Awareness of falling in love. For some reason I think he was in love since childhood and denied it in every way. Well, like how can he even fall in love with his friend? This is utter nonsense. But he most likely confesses during the holidays in Blue Lock, because only after Blue Lock does he become more confident in himself and in his feelings.

— The relationship is now. He tried to be as good a guy as possible during that weekend, which wasn't bad enough, plus he was so cute. Heck! He loves you too much that he is embarrassed by one of your snide looks. I think one day from your walks he introduced you to his comrades, who will tease him too.

Meguru Bachira

— Being children. You were the only friend he had besides the Monster. He treasured it very much, so he dragged you to his house quite often. I think his mom found out from the first day that his son had a friend.

— Awareness of falling in love. Probably after a phrase like: "I also see a monster." No, seriously, it will be a big discovery for him. It's a big surprise that you're just like him and don't hesitate to tell him about it.

— The relationship is now. He is still the same boy in love who dotes on you, for him you are still an important part of life and no matter how much time it has passed, it will always be so. He also tries very hard to be the best guy, like in those movies or TV shows.

Hyoma Chigiri

— Being children. Perhaps you studied in the same class and at some point became close. Some kind of common hobby, it doesn't really matter, the important fact is that most likely the acquaintance happened with his slight audacity.

— Awareness of falling in love. Just support. You can say that he has been in love since high school. He really lacked support as some bullied him. And after the injury, he fell into everything. Your support gave him an incentive not to lose heart and try himself in something else, where you don't need to make such efforts on his feet. Perhaps he himself understood his infatuation then.

— The relationship is now. I answer that – he would be your parents' favorite! Your parents were more happy than you. Jokes from my sister, that she prophesied it on the day you met. In fact, he is the best boy: he will always support, tell you how you did it. Of course, it's not just that, but he's trying to be the best for you.

#blue lock x reader #meguru bachira #hyoma chigiri #yoichi isagi #sae itoshi #hyoma chigiri x reader #meguru bachira x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #x reader #hedcanon

[shayyprasad]

games // part one | peter parker

(the spacing is so weird... don't worry about it...)

masterlist to this here!

tw: underage drinking, angst kinda, mentions of sex and underage drug use, making out, y/n

just y/n

that's all i can say

kinda trash but whateverrr (i didn't really proofread-)

will probably have multiple parts that aren't that long?? idk

this one's 1.1k+ words

peter's p.o.v.

y/n stark had never fallen in love. she had everything she needed, all the money, right in the palm of her hand.

yes, she was smart. one of the top students at midtown high. her grades spelt that out. so why wasn't she doing anything with herself? why didn't she put effort into the things she did? why was she always making questionable decisons? smoking? drinking? parties? drugs and one-night stands? 

because she didn't care.

she didn't care simply since she would take over her father's company, anyways. no college or anything, simply a one-way ticket to be the c.e.o. of stark industries. that was her life plan.

plus hook-ups on weekends.

most nights were spent partying, drinking, and doing drugs. and the longest she'd ever dated a guy was 6 days (more or less).

to say the least, she had a reputation.

peter knew that, so he wasn't quite sure why he let himself fall in love with her, even though they'd never talked.

he glanced over to her figure that was slumped over her desk slightly, as she bit her lip in concentration. peter felt his heart beating a little faster.

"-once you finish that, turn it in. though," ms. cartwright paused, "you may, actually probably will, have to work with your partner outside of school to complete this. choose your person carefully, and don't forget, you have 'til wednesday. go ahead and find a partner."

"really, ms. cartwright? a project? aren't you supposed to be the cool teacher?" y/n quipped, not really meaning to make it sound like a joke, but some people, including himself, chuckled.

but peter's mood dropped again as he sighed, because he didn't have any friends in this class, so he prepared himself to plead the teacher to let him work alone.

suddenly, someone sat down next to him, making peter look up.

"hey, parker." his eyes immediately widened.

"oh! uh, h-hi, y/n."

she nodded briefly, "wanna partner up?"

"with- with me?" he asked, looking around.

"um, yes?" y/n raised an eyebrow. "who else?"

"right, right." it was awkward for a second, and he wanted to break the silence so bad. clearing his throat, "so i was thinking that we could do maybe... something for thermodynamic properties of atomic defects for quantum technologies? a model paired with a thesis, or, like, prediction for, uh, it, or," he looked up as he was writing to make sure she was still listening, "and add some sorta... emitter?"

"that's... actually really smart. maybe workshop on the defects part though, but i think we can make it work. let's blow them away, parker."

peter couldn't stop the grin that made it's way onto his face.

a girl was talking to him. a pretty girl. one that wasn't aunt may or mj. sure, yeah, it was for a group project, but still. 

it counted, he decided.

the rest of class was spent brainstorming, and then he felt a little sad once the bell rung and she had to leave, before that, though, y/n wrote her number on his paper, adding a little heart.

"wanna meet up after school? we can work on it and get it out of the way."

"yes, please!" he said, a little too happily, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "um, yeah, th- that's cool. i guess."

y/n laughed, and he decided it was the prettiest sound ever. "solid, babes." he froze momentarily, but he knew she didn't mean it sexually. but he still blushed, and y/n caught that but said nothing for his sake.

"'kay, see you then. text you the deets."

only aunt may ever used the word "deets," but when y/n said it, it sounded... cool, and it made him want to start using it, too.

he couldn't wait to brag to ned.

now who's the female-less dweeb?

his next period was lunch, so he could tell. ned. everything. peter was honestly still surprised that out of everyone in the whole classroom, she picked him.

unless she's using you for answers, a little voice rang at the his back of his head.

he shook it away. why would she need his help? or answers? y/n was equally smart, if not smarter.

right.

she came to me because i'm not 100% of a loser. i'm worth something as peter.

peter sat down at his normal seat on the lunchroom, right by ned.

"god, ned, you'll never believe it! ned, bro! guess, guess!"

"uh... the water fountain doesn't make the hallway smell like farts every time someone uses it because it's fixed now?"

"that... that was specific."

"hey, man, i gotta get water from somewhere."

"okay, well, either way, no."

"ooh! you- you... i don't know. just tell me!"

"alright, alright. get ready. are you ready now?"

"yeah! say it!"

"100% ready?"

"yes!"

"i got," peter started, pausing for dramatic effect, "a pretty girl's number!"

"really? no way!"

"and, and, it's not just any pretty girl! it's y/n! yeah! y/n stark!”

"no. way. oh my gosh, peter! that's insane!"

"i know, i know, i know!"

"so? now what?"

"what do you mean?"

"like... are you gonna meet up with her?"

"uh. maybe? i dunno. i've seen her at the tower, like, once."

"won't mr. stark," he shrugged, "not want you dating... his daughter?"

peter paused, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "i... don't think we're quite there, ned," he answered honestly.

he decided not to mention the fact that it was for a group project.

peter spent the rest of lunch tuning out ned and day-dreaming about her. and then when he got home, he stared at his phone. maybe he was waiting for a text from her?

it didn't matter. 

why would she willingly do that?

then another thought popped into his mind, was she waiting for him? 

that's stupid. there's no reason for her to wait. if she wanted to talk to me, she would've done so. 

but what if she is? then i should message her. 

wait, no, i can't look desperate!

maybe-

shut up conscious!

he felt so silly, stressing over such a small thing. but then again, this was high school. practically everything you said or did mattered. finally, he decided he'd text her first. 

peter: hi. it's|

the cursor blinked in front of him, mocking peter. he erased it and tried again. 

peter: hey, it's|

or did "hi" sound better? no, no, hey was cooler. but he didn't want her to think it was hey, because it wasn't hey. it was just hey. 

well, now he had another problem. "hey" didn't look like a word anymore. it looked like hay misspelled. peter dragged a hand down his face, frustrated. 

peter: hi y/n i'm hopelessly in love with you and overjoyed that you picked me to be your partner marry me now? please| 

that was most likely not better. 

he settled for, at last;

peter: hey, it's peter. when do you wanna meet up? 

delivered at 5:31

#spiderman #tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker #peter parker x reader #games part one

[rosepascal]

Rained Out || Joel Miller x Reader

prompt: B planned a romantic, elaborate date in the park. It rains. Fortunately, A doesn't mind getting a bit wet.

warnings: the reader likes strawberries so uh if ur allergic then mb

a/n: i needed some pure fluff with joel so I wrote this. Its pre outbreak or no outbreak.

Joel has never been more grateful to have a teenage daughter than right now. Joel isn't exactly the most creative man and you deserve more than dinner and a movie at his place, even if you say you're quite happy spending anytime with him.

So when he went to Sarah for ideas she quickly listed off things he didn't even think of, deciding to settle on a picnic at the park. He wanted this to be special, to be perfect. He's been so busy lately with work that he can't help but feel like he's neglected your relationship. Even though you were so understanding he still felt guilty.

He went and bought the most expensive food and found the perfect spot. He even tried, key word tried, to make chocolate covered strawberries. Which in theory shouldn't have been hard but Joel has big hands that weren't meant to dip berries into messy chocolate.

It was quite something to see him so, nervous. Joel Miller doesn't get nervous, or at least he doesn't show it very often. So when you see his fingers tapping the steering wheel it makes you worry. He was a bit cryptic over the phone and he's acting really weird now.

"Hey Joel, is everything okay?" He looks over at you and notices the worry on your face. Great he thinks, he's making things worse already.

"Everything's perfect," He squeezes your hand but you're still unsure. Joel takes a deep breath as he pulls up to the park. He's been on plenty of dates with you before so why is so damn nervous now?

Maybe because he wants just wants everything to be perfect. Joel opens the backseat and pulls out a picnic basket and a blanket. He smiles when he sees your eyes light up.

"Come on sugar, I got your favorites."

"Strawberries!" You ask excitedly as you wrap your hands around his arm.

"Strawberries and chocolate."

"You truly love me don't you." You joke and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"You know I do." As Joel sets down the blanket you start to notice the sky turn dark. Clouds start to cover the blue sky and Joel starts to get nervous.

"That damn weatherman said it was supposed to be sunny." He mumbles as he sets out the food. Placing your hand on his arm you lean in and kiss his cheek, trying to calm his worries.

"I don't mind the clouds. Now can I'm dying to see what you've made." It seems to work as Joel becomes distracted.

Your legs rest on top of his own as you scoot closer to him. One arm propping you up while Joel helps hold you in place. You bump your nose against his cheek as you lean into him. It's been too long since you had a real date with Joel and you were soaking up every minute.

"I missed you," You sigh as he rubs your back gently.

"M'sorry, work's just been killin' me and Sarah's soccer team made it into this big tournament but its on the weekends and." He stops and sighs. He doesn't want this to turn into his rant session. This is about you and him. Nothing else.

"My busy guy." You joke as you pick up your drink.

Joel feels himself start to relax. The food is great, being with you is amazing, the park is empty meaning no annoying volleyball games or barking dogs.

Then the first drop hits. Then another. Until its pouring down on you. So suddenly that you barely have time to cover the food before running back to his truck. You're soaking wet, your clothes are stuck to your body and Joel doesn't fair any better. His hair is slicked back as tries to catch his breath. The rain pounds against the windshield as thunder rolls through the sky.

Joel rummages through the backseat to find a few blankets that Sarah had left in his car. He's upset as he hands you one. He's frowning as he looks at the ruined basket. Looking up at you with his sad eyes you see the disappointment. It breaks your heart as he leans back in his seat and just looks so defeated.

"M'sorry sugar, I wanted this to be a good date and well. Guess nature had other plans."

"It is a good date Joel. I told you I just like spending time with you." You wrap the blanket around your shoulders as you move closer to him.

"I know you did but, are you really happy with cold pizza and shitty TV reruns? Because that's all I've been able to give you." He thinks you deserve the world, to be taken on nice dates every week in fancy clothes and expensive restaurants. Not waking up at 8am to watch his daughters soccer game or coming over after you're both exhausted from work to eat left over pizza.

"And I've been loving every moment of it." You don't let him sit in his guilt for long.

You love him and he's trying. He's compassionate and caring. Sure he may be forgetful sometimes but who isn't.

"I love you Joel. That means I love you when we're at dinner at that way too expensive Italian place and I love you just as much, maybe more when we're in pajamas eating Chinese food."

"I just wish I could give you more." He cups your face with his hands. Running his thumb along your jaw.

"You're real pretty." He says, just because the the thought pops into his head. You laugh and cover his hands with your own.

"I don't want more from you because I have everything I need." He kisses you softly, his hand cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer.

"I love you sugar," Lightening flashes through the sky, bringing you back to reality.

Joel starts the truck up and drives you home. As he does you rummage through the basket. Most of the food is salvageable. Not the sandwiches though but you smile when you find what you're looking for. As Joel pulls into his driveway you take out the box of chocolate covered strawberries. They were messy but homemade which made your heart melt. Joel holds the blanket over you to cover you from the rain as you walk into the house. Changing into pajamas and turning on the TV.

"Open." You tell him as you hold out a strawberry.

He raises an eyebrow at you but does as he's told. You put part of the strawberry in his mouth and he takes a bite. He plucks the strawberry from your hand and feeds you the rest. It's delicious.

"These are so good Joel." You sigh happily as you reach for another one. "Hold on, you got some chocolate right here." He leans in and kisses you again. He tastes like chocolate.

"Did you get it?" He thinks for a moment before climbing over you on the couch. Wrapping an arm under your back and propping himself up with his other hand.

"Nope." He kisses you again and again, then your cheek and your forehead and everywhere he can.

You laugh as he peppers kisses across your face. Joel wonders how it's possible that the best date you've ever had, is the one on his couch after getting swept up in a summer storm. But then he hears your laugh and he sees your face and he get's it now.

Why would he need anything else but you by his side?

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff

[familyvideostevie]

Ok, so I just read a post by someone about Steve post season 2 that made me HELLA SAD by steviemunson about how nobody showed for Steve's graduation (sorry tumblr doesn't let me add links which is annoying AF) so can you write something where the reader there for Steve? Like she's been in his grade so they've been friends/friendly/classmates/crushes etc throughout the years and become good friends after season 1 and she becomes his family and he confesses their graduation night?

here it is i finally wrote it! the post this is based on is here -- it's SO sad, so thank you for asking me to try to make it better! love for steve, always <3 | 1.3k, fluff, fem!reader

Steve doesn't actually ask anyone to come to his graduation. He doesn't really know who he'd ask, anyway. It's the same story as usual -- parents out of town, though they left him some crisp hundred dollar bills to celebrate with. Not like he can ask Nancy, either. And as much as he loves the damn kids that's a little much to ask them to come, right? He really just wants to get his diploma and figure out how many stores he can fill out applications for once the mall opens.

You know all of this because Steve tells you everything. It's taken a little while, but now you're close as can be. When he stopped being King Steve he was nicer, kind, even, and Nancy introduced you while they were together, since you were in the same class. So study buddies turned to friendly turned to friends, good enough that when they broke up you still wanted Steve around. And now you're graduating high school and you know everything about him from his old hair routine to his nightmare fuel. And he knows everything about you -- except how you're in love with him.

You never imagined having these feelings for him. But he's the best person you know, so how could you not? You know, more than anything, that Steve needs family and he needs people to stick by him and while he has the kids, you need to make sure that he knows he has you, too. And you'd rather be here for him like this, as his best friend, as his family, than make him have to consider complicating things for the sake of your feelings.

He picks you up early the morning of the ceremony. Your parents are coming later to support both of you, and he knows that the dinner and party they planned for this weekend are for him as much as they are for you. You've told him so every day for the last month.

"It's happening!" you shout as you make your way to his car. "We're done!" He looks real smart in a blue button up that brings out his tan and the green tie you gave him for his birthday as a joke. He's done his hair a little, and his gown is laid out nicely in the back seat. You know that despite his claims that today isn't a big deal, he spent hours figuring out how to steam it last night before he called you and asked for help.

"God," Steve groans. "I can't show up with you." You can tell immediately he's in a teasing mood, so you roll your eyes and wait for the punch line. "You're way too pretty for Hawkins High graduation."

"Har har," you say, cheeks flushing. You'll never tire of how he makes you feel even when he's teasing.

"Get in, prettiest girl in Indiana," he says, shaking his head before winking at you and pulling away from the curb once you're settled.

__

At the actual ceremony your last name comes before Steve's so you sit a few rows in front of him but you wish he was next to you. Every time you turn around he's already looking, ready to mouth a joke or pull a face. When you walk across the stage you can hear him hollering your name, screaming louder than your entire family.

"That's my best friend!" he shouts. You don't look so you can focus on not tripping, but you can't stop smiling. And when it's Steve's turn, when you hear titters in the crowd of your peers at his name, you stand up and whistle. You know your family is cheering and probably some other people, but you can only see him. He finds you right away as he shakes Principle Higgins's hand, and it feels like you're the only two people on the lawn. The thought that in another life he would be up there with no one to cheer for him breaks your heart.

The rest of the ceremony goes quickly, and before you know it you're throwing your hat in the air and then it's a mess. Students run around hugging each other and finding their families, but you stand where you are because you know Steve is coming for you. And he does. He's always been able to find you in every room, every crowd. Like magnets, he once joked.

"We did it!" you exclaim. Your cheeks hurt from smiling as he wraps you in his arms and lifts you, twirling around just once as you squeal. He's warm and solid and so handsome in his stupid gown.

"All for a piece of paper, huh?" he says, but his eyes are bright and he's grinning. His hair is a mess, so you reach up to fix it. He leans into your touch but his eyes don't leave yours. You know you need to take him to your family where they're waiting with flowers for both of you but being this close to Steve is intoxicating, a luxury you don't allow yourself very much. So you savor it.

"I thought I would hate today," he confesses. The hand not holding his diploma rests on your hip. "But I'm just happy. Not thinking about anything else."

"Me too, Steve," you reply. "Now we get to celebrate!" He ducks his head a little, still smiling as he shakes it. Your palm comes to rest on his chest, waiting for him to pull away. But he doesn't -- instead, he looks back at you and there's a glint in his eyes that makes you think that maybe, just maybe, he's about to say the unthinkable --

"I have to tell you something," he rushes out. "And I...I think it's going to be okay if I do. Because you're you." He tucks his diploma under his arm and quick as a flash his hands are framing your face.

"Steve?" you breathe out.

"I'm in love with you," he says. "I've loved you for months now and you're my best friend and no one is here for me but you and the people who love me because you do." His voice is firm, sure, like he practiced this in the mirror this morning. "I was looking at you from the stage and it was like there wasn't anyone else here and all I could see was you smiling at me and I just --"

"Stevie," you interrupt. He preens at the nickname, jaw snapping shut as his thumbs trace your cheekbones. Maybe it's the pride in your accomplishment, maybe it's the atmosphere of this warm day, but you've just graduated and you have your best friend in your arms and he loves you, so you plow on. "Steve, I'm in love with you."

"Yeah?" He's breathless, looking at you like he can't believe his eyes.

"Yeah," you say, so happy, so in love. "Yeah, I love you." He had to know, clearly he thought so, since he decided to confess on his own. But it's worth it to see the way it transforms his face, his whole body, as he sags with the happy weight of your affection. You can't wait any longer so you surge up to kiss him. You can't touch him as much as you want since you are still holding your diploma but Steve does his best to make up for it -- one warm palm comes to your back, the other moving into your hair. You're both smiling a little too much for it to be a very good kiss, but it's your favorite first kiss ever. And you know there will be many more chances for you to try again.

You can hear your family calling your names so you break off and grab his hand and he shines like the sun. You can hardly tear your eyes away from him and he presses one more quick peck to your mouth before you step into the rest of your lives.

want to be added to my tag list for full-length (non-ask) fics? send me a message and specify for steve, eddie, or both!

reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #im not happy w this totally but you have waited a long time!!! #emma's asks #anon ask

[sugurus-fave-monkey]

Teaser pt 2

(Still a WIP but I’ve hit a block and wanna take my time with the actual smut)

So I wrote a little more and I’m just going to post what I’ve got going on for now. This has a decent amount of spice tho. Part two here

TW: MDNI/ 18+, Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto, no actual sex acts yet but mentions penis’, angst, PTSD, death mentioned, kissing, neediness, blood mentioned (taste), bro I just want them to be together, Gege when I catch you, not edited, not proofread, hoping to finish it over the weekend.

NSFW under the cut

The night air was cold on his skin as Suguru Geto leaned out his dorm window, trying to find enjoyment in the form of a cigarette. As he exhaled, his left hand came to rub at his eyes, the bags beneath them seemingly a part of him, just like his skin. Just when did everything go wrong? How much more of this could he take? After pitching away the rest of his cigarette, he adjusts the towel on his waist, and closes the window. He sits down on his bed, and runs his fingers through his still damp hair.

Maybe he’s being punished? He should have been more aware of his surroundings after him and Satoru were ambushed. Perhaps he shouldn’t have even offered that girl a life, maybe had he not said anything, he wouldn’t have watched her die. That’s all he sees whenever he closes his eyes, her, and that man, the smug look on his face. When he manages to sleep, he is plagued by nightmares, the girl, screaming at him, Satoru’s body, broken and lifeless, and that man, Toji Fushiguru, no, not a man, what had he called himself? A monkey. The only time Suguru had felt real fear in his life, was caused by none other than a filthy fucking monkey.

He felt like the higher ups were trying to isolate him. Satoru, the only person he felt true friendship with was always being sent on solo missions, while Geto was left to exorcise and consume the curses. The curses, the only form of company he had. Sometimes he would let one out, late at night, alone in his room, just to feel the presence of something. He didn’t know how to feel, he didn’t even know if he could feel anymore, he had spent so long choking back silent tears. His emotions got the best of him at first, and he turned the overwhelming sadness, the emptiness into rage, and when that didn’t help he discarded those emotions, in fact he discarded all emotions.

A soft knock on the door startled him, and he had to ground himself back to reality. He check the alarm clock on his nightstand and saw that it read 3:17 a.m. He sighed and decided to ignore the door, which only resulting in whomever was there knocking louder.

“Yo! Suguru! I know you’re in there, let me in.” Of course.

Suguru rolled his eyes before responding, “I’m trying to sleep Satoru; we can talk in the morning.”

“Nah, I can tell that you’re awake, lemme in, it’s important.” Satoru demanded. “Besides if you don’t I’ll just stay here and pound on your door all night and wake everyone else up.”

Geto stood up, and crossed the room to the door, before swinging it open. “What do you need?”

Satoru threw up his hands and smirked. “You gonna let me in or?”

Geto moved out of the way,, and Satoru walked in, kicking his shoes off before perching himself on the chair at the desk. He quickly scanned his best friend, noting his lack of clothing, and dripping hair.

“Trying to sleep my ass.” Gojo scoffs. “Anyways, we’ve go a mission together, there’s this village, and apparently there’s been some weird activity going on, so I’m tagging along with you.”

Geto turned his head towards Gojo and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by tagging along?”

“Well, I kinda overheard Yaga talking about assigning you that mission solo, and I wanted to come with, since it’s been a while since we’ve had any missions together…” Gojo trailed off.

Geto could instantly tell he was lying, and glared at him.

“Ok, maybe they actually asked me to go with you, but either way! We get to work together again!” Gojo explained.

“So they think I’m incapable of handling a mission solo, and you need to be there?” Geto questioned.

“Suguru… they think you’re a liability, and as much as I hate the higher ups, and disagree with that, I just-“

“So in case something goes wrong, in case something inside me snaps, they want you to be there to put me down?!” Geto had heard enough, the anger he thought he buried rising to the surface.

“N-no,” Gojo stammered, while he stood up, closing the distance between them, his cool demeanour lost. “I don’t know what it is, they just need someone to keep an eye on you. You’ve been off Suguru, and don’t give me that bullshit about a summer cold, something’s going on with you.”

“Tch. I’m fine Satoru” Geto spoke. “I don’t need-“

Before Geto could finish speaking Satoru’s lips were on his own, his eyes widening. He had thought of doing this many times, but was never quite sure how to go about it. Geto parted his lips, allowing Gojo’s tongue to snake into his mouth, swirling his own tongue with Gojo’s. It was as though every wall he had built came crashing down at that moment, Geto wrapped his arms around Gojo, pulling him into an embrace, while Gojo runs his fingers through Geto’s hair.

When they pull away for a brief moment, Geto swears he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He brings a hand to Satoru’s cheek, cradling it, before pulling him back into the kiss. He’s rough, taking charge this time, biting on Gojo’s lower lip, causing the white haired man to inhale sharply. Geto forces his tongue into Gojo’s mouth and groans when Gojo sucks on his tongue. Geto kisses him passionately, lustfully, hungrily, almost as though he wishes to consume him.

Geto lowers Gojo to the bed, using one hand to support himself, and he trails kisses over Gojo’s neck, feeling himself grow erect. Gojo can’t help but squirm under him, wrapping his legs around Geto’s waist. Geto trails his fingers under Gojo’s shirt, feeling his muscles contract, one finger brushing over a nipple, before his thumb joined, pinching it. Kissing was no longer enough, Geto needed to taste him, and so he sunk his teeth into his neck, and began to suck on the tender skin, relishing the taste of copper as Gojo’s skin began to bruise. He stopped for a moment, to pull Gojo’s shirt off, and continued tasting the other man. His lips found their way to Gojo’s nipple, and he started licking at the bud, smirking when Gojo whined and rutted his hips up.

Gojo could feel himself coming undone, and he hadn’t even touched Geto yet, in fact he wasn’t planning any of this at all, the kiss was an impulse he had been feeling for a while, and finally acted on. But now he longed to feel his best friend inside of him, he was usually the one to take charge, and control the situation, but he wanted nothing else but to be ruined by Geto. Gojo’s aching cock twitched at the thought of being fucked by Geto, and as he watched the man’s head going lower and lower on his body, he didn’t know how much he could take. As Geto effortlessly undid his belt, and lowered his pants, leaving only his boxers, Gojo grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him up. Geto looked questioningly at him.

“I want you to mark me.” Gojo breathed.

Geto cocked an eyebrow before trailing his tongue upwards, over his abs, and to his pecs. As Geto bit down again, Gojo groaned, he fist clenching around Geto’s hair. Gojo watched as marks formed on his body, some bleeding, others just barely bruising. He used his hands to guide Geto’s head closer to his own, before Geto’s lips came crashing down, and Gojo used his tongue to probe Geto’s mouth. Tasting his own blood drove him mad, and he needed more, so much more.

#jjk geto #jjk smut #geto smut #geto suguru #jjk satoru #satosugu #satoru gojo #gojo x geto #geto x gojo #gojo smut #suguru geto #jjk gojo