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astermath · 10 months

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nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

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pandorasprongs · 11 months

Text

JAMIE TARTT | and i don't even like you that much. wait, i do. f*ck.

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

SUMMARY: jamie is actually a board game nerd and starts spending more time with one of the employees of a local shop.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: this idea came to me as someone asked me if i wanted to buy another volume of a board game we had HAHA if you can figure out what game i'm referring to in this story, hmu! alsooo i want to apologize for the length i swear i didn't mean for it to get that long, but still, i hope you all enjoy! title is from the song 'apple cider' by beabadoobee!

It was another slow morning in the store, given that most of your frequent customers were forced to be in school at this time. You ended up continuing one of the readings for your class during your shift. Despite a wave of drowsiness hitting you the moment you opened the book, it was still better having free time to be tired than the afternoon rush when 13-year-old boys came in to get another booster pack of Magic: The Gathering cards.

You were practically setting all these children up for a gambling addiction the way they'd spend 20 pounds trying to get one of those shiny ones in their deck. You never bothered to learn the names really, because that wasn't part of your job description. When it came to those kinds of things, those boys probably knew more than you did.

When it came to board games though, that was your area of expertise. It was partly one of the reasons you applied to work here while you were finishing up your Master's, — and also because of how generous the owner was with your salary, — so you always loved helping people out for their board game nights. You didn't have regulars that would come in often, but here and there, there would be a person you recognize from before asking about another game.

You don't know how much time had passed, but after deciding that your brain could no longer take reading the word cognitive multiple times in a sentence, you end up shutting the book and resting your head on the counter.

Soon after though, you hear the bell at the top of the door ring, causing you to jolt up. You only catch a glimpse of the guy walking towards you before he drops his head, his cap completely blocking his face, and a loose black hoodie covering his frame.

For a second, you get worried that the store was about to get robbed but the man finally stops in front of you and speaks, in a thick Mancunian accent. "Do you have any suggestions for board games? Like for family and stuff,"

You swear you've heard his voice before. Maybe from school? Or a former customer? You decide to shake it off before replying. "Well, this is a board game store, so there's quite a lot to pick from. Do you have any specific theme in mind? How many players?"

"There'll be 3 of us, but I'm not really picky with the game. Not any of those monopoly type shit though, cause I'm sick of never winning."

You chuckle at the revelation and that's what gets the man to look up at you. It definitely wasn't his appearance he was worried about. His chiseled jaw and striking blue eyes almost draw you in, not to mention his hairstyle looks eerily like the one David Beckham had in the 90s, who you had to admit was a crush of yours as a kid. He could even pass as a contestant on one of those dating reality shows.

And then it hits you where you've heard his voice before. This guy was on Lust Conquers All and was immediately voted off. You remember it well because your sister was so pissed at him for joining the show since the football season had just started. Jamie something, but the show never mentioned his last name. You try to hide your realization by turning to the shelf behind you.

"Alright uh, I’d recommend this one." You turn back around and slide it across the counter as Jamie (?) starts looking at the box from all angles.

"Looks cool," is all he says in reply and he looks back at you, presumably for you to explain the game. You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before going on your usual introduction to the game.

"Basically in the game, there are 4 characters you can choose to be your 'heroes.' Your main objective is to get your opponent's health to 0 using the different cards in your set. All the characters have different decks and skills you can use throughout the game, and some of them even have side kicks." You look back up for a second to see his expression and you can tell that you're still holding his interest.

"So for example in the one I gave you, you can battle Sinbad, Medusa, King Arthur, and Alice, who's fucking amazing, by the way."

"Alice? From fucking Wonderland?" You laugh at his surprise before nodding to affirm it. "She's your favorite then?"

"How'd you know?" You ask sarcastically. "But yeah, she's just really versatile and it's just really fun to shrink and grow every turn just to piss off the other players. I'm practically unbeatable using her." You admit though you're not really sure why.

Most of the time when customers come in here for a game, they don't ask questions and just buy the first one you suggest. That’s probably why you answered Jamie's question so earnestly. Cause he's the first one to ever ask you what you liked about the game.

You quickly run through the rest of the rules and mechanics of the game with Jamie chiming in occasionally. You describe the other editions as well and Jamie is tempted to buy the other one — "How is anyone supposed to beat fucking Dracula?" — before he ultimately decides to take home the one you offered.

"If I end up losing using Alice, you owe me a refund." He states as you ring up the game. You playfully roll your eyes as you scan the barcode on the box.

"Oh yeah, since you're the first customer of the day, you get a 7% discount on your purchase," you quickly inform him when you glance at the post-it note on the register screen reminding you about it in bold letters.

Instead of the usual gratefulness or blip of happiness from hearing that news, Jamie instead asks, "Is that really a thing or are you doing it because you know who I am?"

You look at him to check if he's serious and given his blank look, you assume he is. You don't know how to respond to that, so instead you just slowly shake your head.

"Wait, do you not know who I am?" His question itself comes off as arrogant, but given the genuine surprise in your voice, you're not sure how to feel about the guy after he says it.

You decide to answer him honestly. "I do, but given that you walked in here in clothes that make you look like a stalker who's about to rob the place, I didn't think you'd want me to make a big fuss about it, Jamie."

His shoulders seem to relax at your statement and once he goes quiet, he finally pulls out his wallet. You quickly place the game in a paper bag and hand it over to him.

He whispers a quick thanks and turns to leave, before pausing. He turns back to you, "Look, it's not like I'm dressed this way because I'm embarrassed to be in a store like this—"

"I didn't think you were," you answer blankly with a hint of sarcasm. You decide to mess with the guy a little bit because hey, when's the next time a famous footballer comes into your store again? "Why, is there something I should be embarrassed about?"

Jamie quickly shakes his head. "No, fuck no! I think it's cool, really. You know, being surrounded by all these games and cards and knowing so much about them. Especially someone like you,"

You tilt your head in amusement. "What do you mean someone like me?" Jamie's embarrassment only seems to deepen at that.

"Fuck I didn't mean it like that. Honestly, when I came in here, I was expecting some teenage boy to be at the counter. Wait no— I mean, girls can like all this stuff too! I just didn't expect someone attr—," he stops himself and shakes his head. "Shit, wait,"

You watch Jamie scramble for words and you decide to just put an end to his misery. "Look, look, I was just joking around. I don't give that much of a shit about what you said." The football player visibly relaxes and you hold in a laugh at that reaction. "And you're basically right about the kind of people who work here. Most of my co-workers can't work these hours right now 'cause they're off studying for their A-Levels."

"Yeah, well thank you for this," Jamie lifts the bag slightly and you give him a genuine smile.

"No problem. Hope you enjoy the game! And if you ever feel compelled to dress like a shitty robber again, you can come back and tell me what you think." Your sarcasm no longer throws Jamie off who instead, just playfully rolls his eyes and leaves the store.

You go back to your reading for your behavioral science class, putting your interaction with the football player in the back of your mind.

—

The next time you see Jamie is two weeks later, although this time, he comes in right before closing. Technically, you weren't the only one assigned for this shift, but you decided to let your co-worker go home early since he said he had an English exam the next day and still hadn't studied.

So, you were counting down the minutes to 8 pm when you hear someone come inside. Fucking hell. You force a smile, "Hi, welcome! We'll be closing in a few minutes, but please approach me if you need anything so you can have a speedier process."

"Are you really that desperate to get rid of me?" The person moves away from the shelves and turns out to be Jamie Tartt, you learn his last name is. He's wearing another grey hoodie but seems to have decided to ditch his hat. Good, because you weren't sure how much longer you could stare at the ICON written on it and not judge him. "I wanna know, did you think offering to help the customer would get them out of here quicker?"

"I had to try something," you defend yourself, shrugging. You notice Jamie carrying the bag you used to wrap the board game and slightly frown. "Didn't like the game?"

He follows your eyes and is quick to correct you. "I loved it, actually. First time playing a board game that Simon didn't win during the first round." You aren't sure who Simon is, but you laugh nonetheless. "And you're right, Alice is fucking unbeatable."

"I'm glad you liked it, and Alice," you start, but then glance at the time on your phone. "But, is that the only reason you came here?"

"Well no, I was wondering if you wanted to play. That's why I came so late, in case there would be too many people if I came at the usual time."

"Yeah, there was a fuck ton, actually, as you can tell from the fully stocked store." You say, pretending to look around the room. "But sure, if you want. I don't have anything going on tomorrow anyway," Now you're really glad that you didn't procrastinate that paper due tonight.

Jamie smiles as he starts to unbox the set and you grab one of the chairs behind the counter and push it to the other side for the footballer.

Never did you imagine you would spend a Saturday night with a hot football player playing one of your favorite board games, but here you were. In between one of the rounds, the topic of football is brought up and you admit that you don't know all that much about it despite your family being made up of fanatics.

"Everyone has their team they support. My dad loves Arsenal, my mum loves Chelsea, and my sister bounces between West Ham and Crystal Palace. Though, she fucking hates Rupert Mannion, so maybe this is the end of her West Ham support." You answer as you shuffle Jamie's deck.

"Shit, the season must be fun for you guys," Jamie remarks and you snort, though instantly regretting letting that sound out. The football player looks unfazed, so you decide not to apologize for it and answer his question instead.

"Yeah, I basically end up being their messenger till the finals, which ends up becoming World War 3 if their teams are competing," you hand him his deck back and start the round, but your conversation doesn't end there.

"What team would you support then, if you got into football?" He looks hopefully at you.

"Yours, probably." You confirm as you look through your first hand of cards. "I mean, I'm about to destroy one of their players at this game. It's the least I can do."

"We'll see about that," Jamie replies and you roll your eyes playfully, but you smile.

Working at the store meant you were surrounded by board game fans every day, but not even your regulars would come in here after your shift to play. You couldn't help but feel warm at how Jamie matched your enthusiasm about the game, something, you admit, you didn't expect from the player. You knew nothing would probably come from this harmless happy crush of yours, but if he decided to start coming in often to play, you wouldn't be opposed to it.

Your attention turns back to the game once Jamie picks his next move. He smirks at his decision until his expression suddenly shifts. "Wait, if you're not into football, how'd you know who I was the other day?"

You move your piece before looking directly into Jamie's eyes and respond, "I just really love trashy reality shows." Jamie playfully groans at the reminder and you burst into laughter before you continue the game.

True to form, whichever of the two of you uses Alice is the one to win that round. You finally decide on a tie-breaker with your favorite being banned from usage.

"Christ, if this is how you maneuver in a board game, I wonder how good you are at football." You tease, as you glance at his character being at only 4HP.

"I'm fucking amazing, actually. Ask your family, they'll tell you." Jamie moves a few spaces on the board, hoping to escape your Medusa, but instead, he falls into one of your traps.

You corner him and finally reduce his King Arthur's health. "And there you go, 3-2."

It takes Jamie a second to absorb everything before he slouches. "Fucking hell." You laugh before getting up from your chair and helping him keep all the pieces and cards.

"Better luck next time, Tartt."

Jamie, whose competitive side seems to be shining in this game, doesn't let it end there.

Almost every week, he would come into the store at night asking to play. He was definitely getting better, but after making a deal where the loser has to tell an embarrassing story after the round, you realize you know more about him than he probably does about you.

"God Jamie, how are you alive?" You ask as he shares a story from when he first started the league.

"How was I supposed to know doing multiple headers in one match could lead to a bloody concussion?" He retorts, only making your eyes widen even more.

"I'm pretty sure that's common knowledge to about 80% of the population," you say through your laughter.

It's almost 10 when you finish playing, so you grab your jacket and start heading to the door with Jamie. You lock the store up and notice that Jamie's still hanging around you.

It's dark outside, but it seems like his features were even more enhanced by the moonlight. The light hit his eyes just the right way that it made the blue more evident. You notice just then how his hair is neater today, mainly because of his sports headband. The front strands of his hair had fallen out it though, falling on his face in just the right way that it gave you butterflies. Did all footballers look this attractive?

You realize that you may have been starting a bit too long and as you tuck the keys in your jacket pocket, you decide to ask, "Need anything else?"

Jamie opens his mouth to say something, but instead, he just shakes his head. "Nothing actually, just good night," he waves and starts walking in the opposite direction, but you swear you hear him muttering something under his breath.

—

It had been a week since then and you had to start telling yourself to not be so excited when you hear the bell ring. Every time it did, you'd look expectantly at the door expecting to see Jamie again, asking for another or a new volume or even just game tips. Each time, you'd end up disappointed and would have to fake a smile to the customer approaching you.

This time you hear it ring, and you do your best to not look up. If it was Jamie, you knew that your boss George probably would be sounding an alarm. You only learned the Monday after that he was a major AFC Richmond fan when you mentioned that a football player had visited the store multiple times to play board games.

"Do you think we can get him to sign a picture and put it on the wall? Can you ask?" You quickly have to explain how those interactions were the only times you ever spoke to Jamie and had no actual way of contacting him.

As you close your laptop, — one more paragraph and that essay is done! — you look up to find two guys standing in front of you.

"Hi, do you have any board game recommendations?" the one on the right greeted, his accent quickly revealing him to be Welsh.

You don't have a chance to answer because the left one lightly elbows his friend before whispering (though loud enough for you to hear), "He already told us what to get, bruv."

You may not know who this 'he' is, but the guy pulls out his phone and shows you a picture of a board game, the same one you recommended to Jamie. Wishful thinking gets you to believe that they were friends of his and he liked it so much that he told them about it. And maybe about you, too.

You've never been so happy to be right.

You nod your head and as he kept his phone, you started pulling the same edition from the shelf behind you when you hear a screeching sound that almost made you drop the box.

"Oh my God, Colin Hughes, and Isaac McAdoo!" George exclaims and you wonder where you've heard those names before.

The owner joins you at the counter as you place the board game in front of you. Maybe you weren't pretending to be as peppy as you usually do, because George decides to ask, "How are you so calm? Do you know who these guys are? They're Colin Hughes and Isaac McAdoo!"

"I heard you the first time," you turn to the two guys once again, embarrassed on behalf of your boss.

"They're part of the starting team of AFC Richmond!" And that's when it clicks. On one of your all-nighters, you decided to take a break and search up Jamie Tartt just to see what you could find. You ended up at his club's website and saw the rest of the players as well. You didn't pay them much attention given that you were so focused on player number 9, but you saw enough pictures to recognize them, at least.

"So you guys do know Jamie," you think out loud and the two players turn to each other, before sharing looks of realization.

"Oh, you're the girl!" Colin exclaims and you can't help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"Yeah, I guess so," you try and act as nonchalantly as possible, so neither of them picks up on anything. You turn back to the game and ask, "Is this the one you wanted?"

"Jamie said there were other versions?" Isaac asks and you nod your head to confirm it, which he smiles at. "We want the Sherlock one."

"Okay," you reach for that one on the shelf as George starts offering them discounts on the game.

When he almost offers to give it to them for free along with another set, you stop him by slamming the box on the counter. Why were you the one trying to keep his business alive? "Here it is, hope you enjoy it!"

You ring up their purchase, still trying to hold your boss back from scaring these footballers away before they can pay. You finally bag the whole thing and hand it to them. "Thank you!" you shout as they exit the store.

"Yeah, see you soon!" George says afterward and you look at him in confusion.

"What the fuck was that, George?" He only sighs, most likely the embarrassment only hitting him at that exact moment.

Once he goes back to doing inventory, you can't help but replay what Colin said. Oh, you're the girl! Why was such a simple phrase like that affecting you so much? For all you know, he might've mentioned you being a sore winner, which wouldn't be the first time you've been called that.

But you still hope he said good things about you and maybe even kept better things he thought to himself.

—

"Okay, time's up. Please pass your papers." You write one last word as you get up to give your exam to the proctor, sighing in relief that the semester is finally over.

You had asked for leave for the past few days and didn't have a shift until tomorrow, so you decide to treat yourself to some coffee and pasta for lunch at the campus cafe.

As you settle down at one of the tables, you get a phone call from George. He was more than happy to let you take the time off, so you wonder what emergency had to happen for him to contact you.

As soon as you pick up, George screams your name into the phone. You pull it away from your ear for a second, and respond, "What? What do you need?"

"Look, I'm sorry to disturb you on your day off, but you said that your test ended at 2:30, so I decided to hold off calling you till then. Anyway, someone came in a few days ago asking if we host board game nights."

"And we do," you answer for him as you chew your sandwich.

"Right, and then he said that he was from AFC Richmond." You flinch after imagining how your boss could've reacted at that revelation. "They wanted to hold it a few days ago," George pauses.

"Why didn't you say yes? You could've been game master."

"Yeah well, I wanted to, but they specifically asked for you to go." You put down your sandwich and straighten up. George continues, "I told them you were on leave, but they said they could wait till you were back at work. I said that your test was this morning and I would ask if you'd be willing to end your leave early."

"Okay, sure." You answer, a little faster than you intended. You couldn't believe that the team — and maybe even Jamie personally, — was willing to postpone their game night just so you would be the one to facilitate it.

The surprise was evident in George's voice. Normally, you would reject his idea the moment he mentioned board game nights, but something about this was different for you. "Oh okay, well, I'll send you the address. I'll be bringing the boards there since you don't have a car and I'll meet you there at 4 pm. It's a restaurant, so maybe you can get something to eat before 'cause shit can get crazy at those things and it's best to load up."

You don't know how a board game night could get crazy, but you decide not to comment on it. He sends you the details through text before you end the call and continues eating your sandwich. The place wasn't too far from campus, so you didn't have to rush to get there. But after 10 minutes, you consumed your sandwich and were out the door with your coffee in hand.

While walking, you decided to familiarize yourself more with the players trying to put names to face before you had to interact with all of them at once. You started to get the hang of it, — even looking at team photos and naming them one by one as a test — as you get to the venue at around half past 3.

You arrive at a restaurant called Ola's, and you remember seeing one of the Richmond players post about it. Your dad wanted to have dinner here once, but they were always fully booked so the four of you gave up trying to get a table there.

Because of that, you expected the place to be swamped with customers, but instead find an almost empty restaurant. You notice one guy standing in the middle of it and approach him.

"Hi," He turns around and you recognize him as Sam Obisanya, meaning he must be the owner. You introduce yourself quickly before asking, "Am I at the right place? I'm here to help host a board game tournament."

Sam's eyes widen as he seems to recognize you. "Oh yes, this is the place. Sorry, I didn't expect you to be so early. We already fixed up the tables, but I can also help in setting up the boards if you like."

"Ah no, it's alright. My boss is the one who’s bringing them. I came from my university, so I don't have any of them on me right now." You quickly explain and Sam nods as he leads you to one of the tables to relax, while he grabs some appetizers from the kitchen.

He makes his way back to the table, though he can't seem to stop looking at you. You subconsciously start fixing your hair, wondering if you should've gone to the bathroom before going in here.

He seems to pick up on this and is quick to reassure you, "Oh, I'm sorry for staring. It's just Jamie has mentioned you so many times, so it's nice to finally put a face to the name."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of the football player. You grab some of the food he offered as you reply as calmly as you can, "Oh yeah, did he tell you how he is nowhere close to beating my number of wins?"

Sam lets out a short chuckle. "No, but I'm not surprised. He did say you're very good at it." You smile and decide to ask why they decided to do a board game night.

It takes a second before Sam replies, "Oh well, Coach always says to do team-building activities every once in a while, and seeing as Jamie has asked almost everyone on the team to play the game at least once, we thought it would be a good idea. I think Isaac and Colin got their own board too and they started bringing it to the clubhouse."

"Shit, I didn't realize that football players loved board games so much," you remarked as you hear the door to the restaurant open.

Both of you look up to see George, who is trying to carry 12 boxes of board game sets. You rush out of your seat to help him out and so does Sam. The sight of the player almost makes your boss drop all of them from his arms, but you quickly scoop four of them and Same takes another four.

"Sam Obisanya," George exhales, once some of the weight is literally lifted off him.

The player simply says, "Hello," and states that he'll start setting up the four boards on the tables near the back.

You snap your fingers to get George out of the trance and the two of your start setting up on the rest of your tables, dropping the character figurines at the bar table and putting the sign-up sheet next to it. Slowly, the restaurant starts filling up with players with George gradually losing his mind at the number of footballers from his favorite team.

You finally get him to leave, but only by promising to convince the team to take a picture with him when he came back to pick up the boards. You're pretty sure he's already making plans to put it on a canvas and hang it on his bed.

You settle yourself behind the bar table to be in charge of the players setting up, each time expecting it to be Jamie standing in front of you. You try and keep your focus on the task at hand every time you hear the boys greet someone new.

Isaac and Colin are the next to write their names and they give you a look that you can't quite decipher. Soon enough, Jamie finally gets here and you straighten up in your seat. He greets some of the players till his eyes land on you.

He approached the bench and once he looked up, he observed out loud. "You're here,”

"Aw, did you want to get rid of me that badly?" You mimic him before explaining that you finished your leave earlier, "just to see you, of course." — with some truth behind that statement. Jamie laughs — albeit, a little awkwardly, — and takes the clipboard. As he signs up, you decide to take the chance to tease him. "Heard you were talking about me to your teammates."

Jamie's eyes widen and he stops writing to shoot glares at the rest of AFC Richmond, not sure who told you. Jamie turns back to you and you laugh. "Don't worry, Tartt. I'm sure you just told them how I'm an absolute god at the game and you're glad I'm not playing tonight." The football player simply rolls his eyes as he joins his teammates.

Once the whole team is complete along with their kit-man Will, you decide to start the tournament. "Okay, hi everyone! Welcome to your board game night." The crowd cheers and you're startled by their enthusiasm. You quickly explain the rules of the night, — though they seem to already know most of it, — and the order of players. It's a draw lots method, so the players will be randomly given a character and an opponent.

Once everyone gets their characters and settles in, you start making rounds in case anyone had any questions. After a while, you start heading back to the bar when someone taps you on the shoulder. You find Jamie already done with his round.

"How'd you win that quickly?" You don't try to hide the surprise in your voice. "Even I take like 20 minutes minimum to win."

"Oh I didn't," Jamie clarifies, and you widen your eyes. "I just couldn't attack Dani. I mean, look at that face." You turn to their table and find Dani smiling at you — "This is fun!" — and waving using his Dracula figurine.

You laugh at his reasoning. "Alright then, guess you're done for the night." You walk back to the bar and Jamie stops on the opposite side of it.

"You hungry? Sam said there's prepped meals in the back and since none of the games are ending soon…" Jamie offers and you obliged, seeing as this might be the only time you might ever get to eat in this restaurant. He grabs two plates from there and settles down next to you. Surprisingly, he managed to grab one of your favorite dishes. You remember mentioning to him that you had tried it at another restaurant in the past and loved it, but you doubt he even remembers it and dubbed it a coincidence.

You decide to keep the topic off board games and instead let him talk about what he's doing since he last saw you. Turns out they had multiple back-to-back matches, so practice was tight and he didn't have time to visit you. He also said the next time he did, it was one of your teenage co-workers manning the counter.

"Oh, Chuck! Yeah, he's pretty shit at board games." You say blankly while you shove another spoonful of food into your mouth.

"I ended up just buying a card game and leaving." Jamie continues and you laugh.

"Sorry, you went all the way there for just that. I go to class on Wednesdays, so I don't have a shift then." The conversation then shifts to your degree and you explain that you plan on becoming a psychologist.

"There is another upside to getting that degree too," Jamie chimes in, and you tilt your head. "You can fuck with someone's head while playing."

"Okay, psychology isn't mind control." Though, you think about it for a second. "But it is pretty close. You’ll be my first victim.” You make your sound more ghostly in that last sentence and Jamie pretends to act terrified and faint.

There is a short silence between the two of you when you realize that most of the rounds are done. You start organizing the next round and once the games start, the other players start going around and rooting for their teammates.

It leaves the area near the bar much more isolated and Jamie lowers his voice. "About that card game I got, it's pretty fun, too."

"Yeah?" You ask as you bring your plate back to the kitchen.

"Yeah. I'd love to take you out and talk about it," you stop in your tracks before turning back to the footballer who adds, “If you want."

You turn around to see Jamie is much closer to you now. It's only then you realize how much taller he was than you, but despite that, you’re not intimidated, especially with him looking so expectantly at you.

It takes a second before your mouth turns into a smile. "I think I'd like that."

Jamie does this small bounce thing on his heels, before trying to tone it down. You only laugh and kiss him on the cheek before heading to the crowd of players. He follows suit and rests his arm on your shoulders.

Some of his teammates notice and start cheering. You look at them confused before deciding to ask Jamie, "Was this all an elaborate scheme to ask me out?"

He shakes his head, "No, 'course not. Was there a deal made after I lost a game to Jan? Possibly," The both of you laugh as you playfully push his head away. You start to accept that this unfairly attractive football player — whom you'll be going on a date soon — can be as much of a nerd as you.

If this is what George meant when he said game nights could get crazy, well, maybe you should’ve given them a chance earlier.

#jamie tartt #jamie tart x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfic

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mochiroreo · 8 months

Text

Oh goodie! Pt. 2 [smile, you’re on camera]

18+ MDNI

Pairing: (Dark)Older!Eddie Munson x innocent!nerdy!reader (afab!reader) x (Dark)Older!Steve Harrington

Summary: being a latchkey child, you are used to being alone. So when your parents announced that your whole family is moving to Hawkins, you paid them no mind and just packed up your bags. What you are not expecting was that the house that your family just bought comes with two neighbours that are in dire need to have you in any way.

Word count: 10.9k (I stopped myself AAAAA)

Trigger warning (for this chapter): a

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. NONCON. Manipulation. Gaslighting. NON CONSENSUAL DRUG USE. 100% FILTH. Obssession. MEAN STEDDIE. Non-consensual recording. Fingering. Squirting. Tiddy sucking. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it please) age gap. Hidden relationships. Spanking. Overstimulation. She/her pronouns. Pet names (no use of y/n).

Author’s note: thank you so much for the support on part 1! Never have I ever thought that my first ever smut fic would get this much love! As always, I am still learning on how to write fics and stories in general, you guys don’t have any choice but to learn with me hehe. English is not my first language, so forgive me if there are any grammatical errors or typos! This was also non-beta’d oops. Love lots! 💖

You woke up snug on your blanket and plushies, your eyes adjusting to the sunlight.

You slowly sat down, looking around to realize that you’re just in your room which made you confused on what happened. Your eyes felt tired from crying as your mind went back to the events last night. You remember how Steve’s thick fingers felt hot on your skin, on your thighs, in between your legs. And how he pumped them in and out of you in an unforgiving pace. How Eddie’s strong,firm, tattooed arms held you while playing with your breasts with his mouth.

Your face immediately went hot with all those vivid details, your legs closing in instinct with the sudden surge of emotion while your heart beats loudly in your chest. It felt so wrong to you that it made your skin crawl. So wrong that you’re afraid it might have already ruined your blossoming neighbourly relationship with them. Your eyes were tearing up as you blame yourself for letting it get out of hand. For letting yourself be held by them. The guilt slowly eating you up. You held your face and tried to breathe in and out as you tremble, trying to get out of your bed.

Slowly walking outside of your room, you peek left and right to make sure that you’re alone. Making your way downstairs, you have noticed how you’re now wearing a pair of pyjamas. With your stomach grumbling, you headed straight to your kitchen for a glass of water while thinking what you can cook, convincing yourself that you cannot be sick while wallowing in guilt. Putting your glass on the countertop, you noticed some take away boxes with a sticky note.

“Hey princess,

We hope you’re feeling fine. We bought you some food, so please eat up once you wake up. We’re working overtime today and this week in general, so we won’t be around much. We wanted to give you space either way.

Here’s our number if it gets too much. Don’t forget to message us when you wake up.

Love,

Steve & Eddie xx”

At the bottom of the note, both their numbers were scribbled with hearts around it. The note would’ve made you smile, if it weren’t for the emotions that you’re feeling. You held the containers of food and just decided that you’re not hungry anymore, putting them away inside the fridge. You held the note in your hand, planning to throw it away before deciding against it. Putting it inside your pocket.

The feeling of guilt wasn’t just about you doing the sexual acts. You’re pretty sure that your friends have done so much more, the constant gossip of ‘who slept with who’ and ‘how long did they last, or did you last’ was around you since you were 16, though remaining ignorant on the actual deed. The amount of romance books with detailed scenes about sex made up for your lack of experience, though its “vanilla” like what they’ve said. It doesn’t bother you one bit, though it does make you redder than red with how oblivious you still are when it comes to the real thing. No prior experience till now.

What bothers you is that how out of all people you could have done it with, you did it with the neighbours that was just planning to help you and look out for you. At least, that’s what you think. Your mind is telling you that it's your fault, not theirs even though at the back of your head, someone is telling you that it is indeed their fault... Seeing how your parents even trusted them to look after you while they’re out of town, you never doubt your parents' judgement, so you know that it’s only your fault. Your mistake. You gripped your hair out of frustration, ignoring the gnawing feeling of self-pity laced with confusion if what happened last night was wrong even though it felt right. You took a deep breath, running your hands on your face with a sigh.

Your mind is racing on how they would look at you now. You’re scared that they might tell your parents how you acted towards them when they were just trying to help you out. You can’t help but think that maybe its okay to text them, before deciding not to cause you really don’t know what to say to them.

You took a warm bath, ignoring the shivers while you wash yourself. Memories from last night just won’t leave you the whole day. Biting your bottom lip, you sighed while breathing in the scent of strawberries and honey from your body wash and hair products. The day went by with you feeling down, feeling as if not only did you disappoint your parents, but you have also taken advantage of Steve and Eddie’s kindness. Wearing a pair of comfy pyjamas, you’ve let your mind rest and drifted off to sleep, telling yourself that you’ll be avoiding Steve and Eddie at all costs for now. You do not want them to get an idea of you taking advantage of them or their kindness, of disappointing your parents even further if word comes out. You do not want to feel the confusion of it all again.

Eddie and Steve did not like it at all.

They did not like it one bit. Steve watches Eddie pace back and forth, constantly checking his phone before looking at Steve, working on his laptop, which only made the man sigh. “No message, Eds.” Steve calmly says, showing his phone screen. Eddie groaned in frustration before letting out loud series of swear words. “Fuck! She’s been avoiding us, Steve! It's almost one week!” Eddie’s chest is slowly heaving, his wifebeater barely containing his taut chest with how fitted it is to him. He took several deep breaths, stretching his arms before sighing and taking a sit on his armchair sofa. Inked arms flexing as he took hold of the sides of the chair before ruffling his soft locks in madness.

Steve dropped by to his house when he noticed that all the lights in your house are off except your room. He just finished his jog when he went past your place, dressed up in grey sweatpants and a fitted shirt. He knocked on Eddie’s door to let the other know that you’re trying to avoid both of them based on how you did not reach out. Eddie immediately threw a tantrum, thinking that what happened last week was enough to somehow show you how they wanted you. How much they needed you. Steve pushing the idea that you are made for them.

They sat side by side, Eddie passing Steve a blunt which he gladly accepts. Taking a deep breath, Steve blew the smoke upwards, the weed easing his and Eddie’s nerves. Steve has never been that much vocal compared to when he was younger. Sure, maybe in bed or when he is having fun in genral. But never when he’s mad now, which made him harder to read throughout the years. And in Eddie’s eyes, that’s what made him a tad bit scarier than him. Steve calls it “emotional maturity”, Eddie calls it “manipulative asshole 2.0”, thinking that he’s the 1.0 version.

They know that they’re spiralling down towards this obsession towards you. That magnetic pull when they opened the door and found you, its like what they’ve been unknowingly wishing for all throughout. They’re very much aware that if people knew, they’ll frown and get disgusted with how perverse their actions are, but they’re pretty sure that even their friends, Jonathan and Billy, would get where they’re coming from. You are just so— divine. Perfect in every way in their eyes. Your shyness, the soft timbre of your voice, the way you swoon under your parents’ touch when they praise you for being such a good girl— just the air that you breathe makes them drunk enough to constrict their air flow. You fit flawlessly on the gaps they didn’t know they have.

“I have a feeling she’s confused. Guilty, even. Pretty sure that’s what been running inside that pretty little head of hers.” Eddie spoke, taking a deep breath to feel the high immediately. “I think she needs to smoke some weed.” He joked, eyeing Steve. Steve’s eyes widened a bit before changing position and seating down the couch in a more comfortable manner.

“Do you still have some goods on you, Munson?” Steve asked him with hazy eyes, ashing the blunt. Eddie looked at him with a scoff, pouring the both of them some whiskey in a glass. His ring-clad fingers clacked on the bottle and the glass when he grabbed it to offer one to Steve. “I’m a fucking changed man, Harrington.” He smirked, taking a drink and feeling the burn of the whiskey down his throat.

“I know, but do you still have some on you?” Steve rolled his eyes, also taking a sip of his alcohol. “What do you need? I can get it from some of my friends at the other side of town, where me and the band used to play.” Steve gave the other a smile, taking another hit. “Can you get some Ketamine? You decide how much.” The long-haired man looked at Steve with confusion before it clicked when Steve just gave him a knowing look. A loud cackle left Eddie’s mouth, the gears in his mind slowly clicking as he connects the dots of Steve’s ideas. They both salivate at the thought of having you, knowing how their actions are crossing the borderline of obsession without the guarantee of going back once they have a proper taste of you.

And it looks like they don’t even have the plan of going back.

Your parents came back briefly from their trip, your face glowing as you watch them tell you about their latest ventures and things that they got you as it reminded them of you. You swallow down the urge of telling them the events, basking in their smiles and comfort when they praised you on how you’re so understanding of them, at the same time apologising for being barely beside you. You shake your head with a smile, before giving them each a peck while saying how much you love them and how happy you are already by seeing them come home.

Running down the stairs when your mom called you, you did not notice that Steve and Eddie were present, talking to your dad while having some beer at the dining table. Your smile slowly faltered, replaced with with wide eyes laced with embarrassment. Steve heard your steps, looking at your direction before Eddie followed. They both gave you a warm smile, your dad doing the same. “Peach! They were just telling me how you are such a good girl for not giving them a headache when they were looking after you. Cannot thank these men enough, makes me feel at ease knowing that there’s an adult figure around you while me and your mom’s out and about with work.” You dad exclaimed with a smile, giving both men with a pat on the back. “Just tell me when one of you gentleman feels like going on a date, I can hook you up with one of my single friends or colleagues.” Your mom teased, giggling at her statement.

You faked a smile, nervously fiddling with the ends of your skirt. You don’t get why they would lie about them looking after you when you are sure that they know you did not step outside your house the whole time your parents are gone. But you are also thankful that they haven’t mentioned anything to your parents. You focused your gaze on your house slippers, before trying to block out their conversation. You feel Eddie’s eyes follow you as you go through your fridge, grabbing a pint of ice cream and a spoon before sitting down at a bar stool at the kitchen counter. “Mom, what did you call me for?” Asking her with your mouth full of ice cream, she only laughed at you before grabbing a napkin and wiping the sides of your mouth. The action made you smile, scrunching your nose to which both men ound adorable, hoping they would be the ones to do it soon.

“Me and your dad might need to go back at our old house to sort the deed and for smoother transitions of our jobs. Apparently, something wasn’t filed properly in regard to our old property. While some files are missing from our old office, so me and you dad is thinking that maybe we can sort it out the sooner the better.” She explained, a melancholic expression writte on her face as she watches your expression change. “Oh...” you muttered “but there’s going to be a storm, they say.” You tried to reason out.

“I know honey, which might make this trip longer. Like our previous trip overseas.” your chest felt heavy, resisting the urge to cry and telling her your mistakes, you just gave her a small smile with a nod. Your mom smiled back, before whispering a series of apologies.

Steve watched the whole interaction, eavesdropping. As a latch key child himself, he’s happy that despite being your parents being barely there, they never shied away from showing you affection and assurance even though it's not always enough. He keeps his emotions at bay, because even though he is at awe, he is also annoyed at you. Annoyed at how you’re acting that nothing happened that night. At how you refused to leave your house, not even texting them when they gave you their number. Since that night, all Steve thought about was how you tasted. How it engulfed all his senses. He kept on telling Eddie how sinful you tasted even though the other guy had his share as well.

You felt Steve’s burning stare, meeting his eyes when you looked up. You felt your cheeks heat up, before putting your head down. Eddie’s laughter is ringing throughout the kitchen, telling your parents some wild stories about his youth. You excused yourself after knowing when your parents will leave once again, eyes planted onto the floor the whole time you’re walking towards your room.

For you, the nights are getting colder and lonelier. Trying to stop the wobbling of your lip as you’re close to crying, you bit you bottom lip before wiping your eyes.

There was a faint knock on your door while you were reading a book inside your room. Fixing your glasses, you looked up before answering “come in”. Your door slowly opened, revealing Steve and Eddie. Steve looks dashing, wearing his usual black office slacks, a grey button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone. Eddie wearing his black leather jacket, fitted top underneath with his black ripped jeans.

Your eyes widened a little, taking them in and how they look so good every time you see them before distracting yourself with the book in front of you. “H-hi?” They barely heard your greeting as you put your book down, fixing your glasses while avoiding their stares. Their stares felt heavy, making your palms clammy and sweaty with the sudden nervousness you’re feeling as memories from weeks before came back. Both of them looked around your room, both thinking how adorable you decorated it. Pink walls decorated with pastel blue trinkets, fairy lights, tons of plushies with some books littered all over the carpeted floor.

“Can we talk, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, his brown doe-eyes focused on you, face laced with concern. Steve just gave you a small smile, looking around your room more before his eyes landed on the unfinished shelves. He took a mental note on how he can help you with your room soon.

You nodded your head obediently, motioning for them to come in as you push 2 stools towards them. “I’m sorry, I don’t usually have guests inside my room. Do you want to seat on my bed instead?” You asked them in a hushed tone, intimidated with how big of a contrast they are to your room. Eddie softly chuckled, moving both stools so they can sit directly in front of you. Both of them sat down, their huge frames struggling to even sit comfortably. “No no, this is alright. Quite comfy.” Eddie joked, making you giggle before taking a seat.

“I—“ you started, grabbing a plushie beside you while you try to ease your nerves. “I uhm— i’m sorry.” You softly whispered, looking up to Eddie and Steve with shy eyes and flushed cheeks, looking fill of remorse. This took both of them off-guard, expecting you to tell them to fuck off or how you’ll tell your parents about what they did. Taking a shaky breath, you continued “I-I really did not want to— I swear I did not mean it to h-happen. Y-you’re just trying to help cause my mom and-and daddy— they know you’re both kind and I did that but— but it felt so good, and I don’t know why” you try to explain while your eyesight gets blurry, lips forming into a pout while your brows furrowed in frustration while you pour your heart out.

Eddie’s breath hitched, while Steve took a deep breath. “Sweetheart, you did nothing wrong.” Leaning in, Steve answered in a hushed voice, not wanting your parents to come in after telling them that him and Eddie will just have a quick chat with you to see if you’re fine with them looking after you. “It felt good, right?” The older man asked to which you nod your head before whispering “yes.” “It’s not wrong, baby.” Eddie looked at your face, your eyes red while you sniff. “Baby, look at me” his voice dipped lower, giving Steve a quick side eye. “It wasn’t wrong, okay? It felt good, it felt so good. And you liked it, didn’t you?”

You tried to hold your stare while feeling so embarrassed, you only nodded. Steve tsk-ed, shaking his head “words, baby. Come on.” God, the room was suffocating. With such heavy stares, the air felt thick and as if trying to close in on you. Your mind is reeling on all the emotions that are so new to you that you don’t even know what is happening, and what words are coming out of your mouth. Every breath they both take; you feel on your skin. Their close proximity is leaving you no room to have clear thoughts on what they’re even saying to you.

“Yes. F-felt good. But— but I don’t know. Its still wrong..” Closing your eyes in frustration, you try to clear your thoughts even though its invaded by Steve and Eddie’s silhouettes. Steve looked at you in awe, mischievousness glinting in his eyes while he takes you in. He knows you’re fighting yourself. He knows you are having an inner turmoil on what the heck is happening and how things are progressing. He knows that even though the guilt is slowly consuming you, you wanted it to happen again.

Eddie watched you take deep breathes, his mind reeling on how you look so delectable while you consider what is even happening with you and how they’re playing with you. Like Steve, its evident to him that you were trying to stop the unseeable force that pushes you towards them. He wanted to run his fingers over your whole body. His eyes started travelling lower before he stopped himself and spoke again.

“What about this, we will give you some time to think about what happened. It’s a lot, we know it sweetheart. So, just put it aside for now, okay? As long as we know now about what you thought about it. As long as you don’t push us away.” The statement made you gasp slightly, shaking your head “oh no-! I-I would never!” You looked at them with wide eyes, slightly panicking that you just gave them the idea that you will be ignoring them even. Steve just chuckled at how cute you are, his hand now finding your arm while he rubs it up and down gently. The touch made your insides gooey, oddly liking the warmth of his palm.

“Now that we’ve got that sorted. How about you come to our place for dinner, when your parents leave?” Steve continued his actions, watching how your face slowly shows doubt. Before you can even answer, he continued while tucking some strands of your hair behind your ear “you know, we thought it would be a nice chance to get to know each other more. Some nice dinner meal to ease your shyness around us. Kind of like a sleepover, somehow.” He looked straight to your eyes, smiling.

And when Steve gave you a tender smile, your indecisiveness disappeared, finding yourself nodding before answering and accepting their offer. Eddie and Steve gave you a quick hug, before leaving your room. You stood in the middle of your room awkwardly, holding both of your cheeks on your hands.

“Wednesday.” You whispered to yourself, looking at your calendar “2 days after mom and dad leaves.”

20 minutes early.

You are 20 minutes early, standing awkwardly in front of the massive black oak door that you feel like will eat you one of these days. This is the first time you’ve visited Eddie’s house. Looking at his house with amazement on how gothic and mysterious his house looks like overall, the complete opposite to Steve. You love how the blacks and reds are evident on every exterior part of the house, even his garden, that you’re pretty sure the inside of his house would be the same. The metal dragon decorations kind of intimidating you.

You took a deep breath, adjusting your glasses and your knee-high socks. You went over your outfit in your mind once again, figuring that if you don’t like it anymore, you can always run back home, and change given that you’re early either way. You’re wearing a pink checkered skirt, paired with knee high socks that has some lace at the end while wearing a thick platform loafer shoes. You chose a cream cardigan, leaving the top and bottom buttons unbuttoned that fits your simple make-up and your low pig tails.

Shaking off your anxiety, you scold yourself on how you’re overreacting as if you’re going on a date with them when in fact its just going to be a friendly dinner. You ignore the dreadful gut feeling that you kept on getting throught the days leading up to the said dinner, repeating to yourself that everything will be fine and you’re with the adults that your parents trust either way.

Easing the nervousness out of you after a 5-minute pep talk, you gain the courage to finally press Eddie’s doorbell which made your insides queasy. The seconds dragged by as if they’re hours, thinking that maybe you should run back home now and text them that you have a stomach-ache or the flu. You were seriously considering it before the door opened, revealing Eddie in a loose metallica shirt and a black denim short that shows off more of his pale,tattoed skin. His pretty brown eyes widened as he open his arms for a quick hug to which you shyly gave him. “Oh sweetheart, look at you. So pretty.” His eyes scanned your whole body, loving how his flattery dusted your cheeks pink. “Mr. Munson, please.” “What did I say? Call me Eddie.” You giggled shyly, playfully giving his shoulder a shove.

You look fucking delicious in his eyes, how your whole existence is begging him to ruin you on the spot. The pigtails, the fucking skirt that he is pretty sure will show your ass to them if you lean over, and oh how your knee-high socks emphasise your thighs. You are perfect. Deliciously perfect for them to eat your innocence whole and not share it with the world.

Eddie’s smile widened, his name giving him goosebumps when you whispered it. “Just saying the truth,” he continued, guiding you inside his house. “Welcome to my humble abode” he gave you a quick tour on his living room, before finding your way towards the kitchen where you can hear someone moving around. “Is that our princess, Eds?” The nickname made you chuckle, scratching your nape embarrassingly while you walk towards Steve. “The one and only” the longer haired guy answered with a grin, pushing you softly towards Steve. Steve immediately swoons on how you’re dressed up, eyes wrinkling as he gives you the biggest smile. “Oh darling look at you! Is this all for us?” He cooed, giving him a playful shove like what you did to Eddie. Steve only chuckled, grabbing some plates to plate up the dinner he made. “I hope you’re a big fan of roast?” He asked to which you only nod.

Eddie grabbed some cutleries, motioning for you to follow him towards the dinner table. The table was decorated so beatifully, some red candles with gothic candle holders adorn the table making you gasp in awe. “These are like the ones from the book that I’ve read!” You exclaimed, clasping your hands together while Eddie laughs loudly at your reaction. “What type of books have you been reading, doll?” He playfully asks, pulling your chair out while Steve arranges your plate for you.

Their actions felt so domestic that you needed to pull your head out from the clouds and tell yourself that its just dinner between good friends and that they’re adults, they probably like women their age anyways. Women cooler than you. You were deep in thought before Steve served you a glass of juice and a glass of wine for him and Eddie. “Thank you for this” you tell them with a smile, sitting comfortably on your chair. Eddie just grinned while Steve waved his hand, telling you not to worry about it.

The dinner went too well that for the first time this evening, you weren’t feeling nervous or shy around them. You joked around while you tell them your hobbies, from baking to reading. Steve telling you how he wants to learn how to bake too, urging Eddie to tease him about his sudden decision about learning how to bake. Eddie told you briefly about his background, how he was in a band before earning a lot by being a producer and owning his own record store. Steve,meanwhile, told you about his job at his father’s company before making his own that handles sports and golf clubs. Your mouth was open the whole time, gasping and in awe on how they managed to accomplish so many things on their age to which they only shrugged before saying thank you with a humble smile.

You all moved to Eddie’s lounge room, after getting kicked out by the said man for trying to help with cleaning and washing the dishes. Steve told you about how him and Eddie met after they graduated highschool through common friends, even though they went to the same school. You asked him why, saying that he’ll tell you more about their highschool life once you warm up to them completely to which you just smile in an understanding way.

Eddie came to the lounge room, a bottle of whiskey in one hand while the other holds two glasses. He gently puts them on the table, looking at you. “So, we’ve figured out that since the night is still young, might as well drink a little. Do you want me to make you a cocktail, peach? I make some mean cocktails” Eddie gave you a smile, pouring some whiskey on his glass.

“Uhm I don’t know..” you answered, unconsciously fiddling with your fingers while you shift on your seat. “Aw, come on. It’ll be fun! Just to loosen up, nothing too hard.” Steve leaned in a bit, his smile tugging on your chest to say yes. You looked at Eddie that gave you just a smirk, tilting his head “anddd, your parents are not here. They won’t know, we won’t tell them. We promise. Scouts honour.” He held his left hand up, making you laugh “you’re not even a boy scout Mr. Munson— I mean, Eddie. But okay, fine.” You held your hands up in defeat, giving both of them a roll of your eyes, making Steve scoff while poking your sides saying how sassy you are; Eddie already gone to make you your sweet cocktail.

Eddie grabbed a margarita glass, quickly making work of a strawberry margarita while adding more strawberry puree on the mix to make it sweeter. He took a glance on where you and Steve are, making sure Steve is distracting you before sliding his hand on his back pocket to get a small baggie with a white powder. Putting in half of the bag on your drink before shaking it, he quickly puts it back on his back pocket before decorating your drink with fresh strawberries.

He went back to the lounge room, watching Steve laugh at your reaction when you took a big gulp on the whiskey. “Steve!” You cried before coughing, “you told me it will taste nice!” You pouted, huffing and crossing your arms while the bitter aftertaste of the alcohol lingered on your tongue. Steve only laughed harder, clutching his stomach “I did not tell you to drink almost half of it! Geez!” He wiped his teary eyes from laughing too hard, before calming down. Eddie sat beside you, handling you the pink concoction “Here you go mi lady, one strawberry margarita for you made by the best.” He boasted, giving Steve a side eye while the latter just returned it with a smirk, taking a sip of his almost empty whiskey.

“Are you sure this is sweet, Eddie? My first-time drinking alcohol and Steve made me drink a yucky one” you scrunched your nose in disgust, pouting to which Eddie cooed “trust me, I told you I will make you a mean cocktail. Drink slowly though, it might hit you too hard given that its your first-time drinking.” You eyed the margarita, before slowly taking a sip. Your eyes widened, a smile slowly creeping up your face “this tastes so so good!” You took more sips before giving Eddie a pat on the back “sorry for doubting you!” You giggled, loving the taste of the drink.

You hummed while drinking it, unaware of how both men are watching you while continuing your conversations with them. Unconsciously, you started talking animatedly about random topics about you, sipping you drink constantly as Eddie pours more to your glass. You just watched him while giggling, taking another sip. Time went by as all of you talked from one topic to the other then all of a sudden, you felt dizzy. Too dizzy for a 2 and a half glass of margarita.

You started fanning yourself, fiddling with your top as you try to remain seated and act that nothing is wrong. Biting your lip, you closed your eyes for a bit as another wave of dizziness washed over you, your heart racing while your body kept on getting hotter. You opened your eyes and held on to the couch, clutching it before letting out a soft gasp. “I-I don’t f-feel so good..” you whispered in a breathy way while looking at Steve. His face is holding an amused smirk as he watches you wriggle on your spot. “M-might’ve been... too— too m-much..” you slurred, slumping back to the couch as your fingers nimbly moved by itself, unbuttoning your cardigan to let your body cool. Eddie watched your movement, tongue licking his bottom lip at how you’re unravelling in front of them.

You started taking deep breaths, mind slowly leaving your body, feeling as if you’re melting onto the couch. Both men moved closer. Steve wiped your forehead, placing a tender kiss while your body is now covered in a light sheen of sweat. Eddie moved closer to your neck, leaving trail of soft, wet kisses. “Let go, baby. It’s alright, we got you. Want to see you crumble. Wanna see you break.” He whispered on your skin, making you whimper.

The whimper made Steve’s jaw slack, a deep growl erupting from his chest. “Let’s move her to the room,you got it all set up?” He asked Eddie, watching him carefully lift your body. “Of course.” Eddie smirked, his ring-clad fingers felt nice on your searing skin that you cannot help but mewl and chase the coolness,leaning more in his touch.

They placed you gently in the middle of the bed, Steve looking around to see if all cameras are working. They bought more just for this, thinking that one copy is not enough for them, they even bought an extra one that they can pass around so they can video you up-close. “U-ugh..” you kept on wriggling on the bed, your body trying to at least regain some control. You feel your body getting numb, though you kept on babbling while you cross your legs. There was a sudden urge that made your stomach tingle, wetness slowly dampening your cotton underwear.

The bed dipped, Steve and Eddie slowly removing articles of your clothing one by one which made you sigh in relief, the air and their fingers cooling your skin lightly. “Now baby, want us to help you? Its too much, isn’t it?” Eddie cooed, swiping his thumb on your bottom lip as you let out some soft gasps. He watches you try to answer, your pupils blown wide as you nod your head “y-yes.. yes.. too much f’me..” you whined, your eyes tearing up a bit. Steve grunted when you were left in your underwear, licking his lips nervously as his eyes darted from your bra to your wet cotton panties. “Fuck.” He murmurs, making Eddie look at you as well. “Its like she fucking knows” he laughed, his husky voice ringing in your ears.

Both men looked at each other, having an unspoken conversation. They know that once they do this, there’s no going back. The possible consequences if your parents find out, the judgement of other people, the guilt. Yet their desire and want for you overpowered all those thoughts, giving each other a firm nod.

Eddie unclasped your bra, letting your breasts spill free making him moan at the sight while Steve slid off your panties. His mouth salivated at the wetness, his long and thick fingers dipping slightly making you squirm while breathing heavily. Strings of your cum connected to his fingers before lifting it towards his mouth to suck it off. The action made Eddie’s cock harden, stripping himself off of his shirt and his jeans as Steve does the same, both men now kneeling on the bed only with their boxers.

“You want this, honey?” Steve asked, his hand holding your face as he grips it harshly making your eyes water. “Y-yes.. yes..” you mewled. Steve’s grip tightened slightly as his voice dipped “louder, honey. Need to hear it loud and clear.” His dominance made you shiver despite feeling like your soul left your body already. “Y-yes! Yes please—want it, want it.” You babbled, not even sure what you’re pleading about nor that you’re naked and at mercy of the two men you least thought would do this to you.

“Good girl.” Eddie praised you, following Steve on discarding his boxers. His hands grabbed the flesh of your thighs, spreading it to expose your cunt. “Fuck, look at how wet you are sweet girl... this is all for us yeah?” He asked, grinning from ear to ear as Steve moved away slightly to grab a video cam, recording your dripping pussy. “Come on, Munson. Time to show our sweetheart how good we can make her feel.” Steve urged, sitting behind you as he lifts you up a little, your back resting against his broad,hairy chest. You were boneless, easily maneuvered by them two. Your mind is foggy, watching Eddie’s head disappear between your thighs.

Eddie’s tongue gave your pussy tentative licks first, groaning at your sweetness. The vibrations went straight to your clit, making you moan. Steve held the camera directly pointing it at Eddie while he whispered to your ear. “That’s it, sweetheart. Moan for us, let us hear you.” His words made your pussy clench on nothing while Eddie eats you out. Heavy breaths from all 3 of you can be heard in the room besides the wet slick from how Eddie devours your pussy. His tongue going in and out as his thumb finds your clit to rub it in soft yet fast circles.

“Does it feel good, baby? Want us to do this to you since you met us, huh?” Steve nudged your head, waiting you to answer him. “Answer me, whore.” He commanded, making you cry out. “F-feel so.. feel so g-good I-I wan’ it s’bad feels nice s-so nice—“ your babbling got cut off when Eddie pushed one of his fingers in, not giving you enough time to savour it before he pulls it out, only to push it back in. It made you gasp softly as he adds another one, the feeling of his fingers and his tongue overwhelmed you.

You tried to close your legs, your eyes rolling back as you let moan after moan fall off your lips. “Fuck, you’re already losing your mind. Its not even our dicks yet!” Steve laughed, amused at how you’re wriggling under his hold while he flicks your nipple to make it hard under his touch. Eddie chuckled, continuing his ministrations. He is sucking harshly on your clit, flicking it occasionally while his fingers pump in and out of you. He felt you clench around his fingers, your thighs shaking while you cry out, feeling your cum coat his fingers.

Eddie groaned at the taste, lapping every drop before he moved his face away, fingers still inside you. “Such a naughty girl, did not even bothered to ask for permission before cumming.” He snorted, smacking your cunt with his other hand. Steve tsked in disapproval, pulling your head back by your hair, pigtails now ruined.

The harsh grip made you choke a sob, your scalp stinging at the action. Tears overflowed from your eyes, your eyesight blurry and out of focus. “We’ll let it slide for now, yeah? I forgot that sluts like you need to be taught first.” Steve saw your blown-out pupils, loving the control he had over you. He is vibrating with how much dominance he can exert over you, his blood pumping adrenaline all over his body knowing that they are the first ones that saw you like this. Held you like this. Breaking you like this. His cock is hard under you, slightly grinding it on your lower back for friction.

Eddie inserted his fingers into you once again, pumping it in a vigorous pace. You are now sobbing, trying to close your legs once again even though Steve is gripping both of your thighs wide open now. With your face scrunched in pleasure, you try to warn them that its too much even though you can’t form a coherent sentence. You felt a band snap inside you, before feeling something gush out of you. Eddie’s eyes widened, before continuing his actions. He started laughing darkly, continuing despite your slurred protest. “Shit! Did you see that, Harrington? We fucking got a squirter here!” He exclaimed, making Steve’s cock twitch. Eddie grabbed the camera with his other hand, zooming it in on your pussy as it squirts. He held his wet hand over your mouth as you struggle to catch your breath, pushing it inside your mouth. “Suck.” He ordered, watching you suck and clean his fingers messily.

You are far gone, your eyes glassy and blown while drool slowly build up on the sides of your mouth. Steve noticed how you don’t answer anymore, only mewls and moans kept leaving your mouth now. He gently dropped your torso on the bed, before positioning himself. “Eds— fuck— you gotta let me have her first man. I’m going to fucking explode.” A deep groan left his mouth, tugging on his cock to ease the dull pain of holding back. Eddie just sighed, tying his hair into a messy bun as he watches Steve collect some of your slick using his cock to lube himself. “Fine,” the elder mumbled, letting Steve grab your thighs to push it high once more, positioning it on a mating press.

Steve lined his cock on your entrance, watching your pussy clench in anticipation. Brushing his hair up with his shaky hand, not that his nervous. But the thought of corrupting you, fucking you first almost made him cum on the spot without being inside of you. He took a deep breath, eyeing your face as you look at him with unfocused eyes, propped up slightly with the pillows. He slowly pushed his huge cock in, watching your face contort in pain. Your hands moved a little, trying to grab his arms while you cry. Eddie held you, kissing your tear-stained cheeks. “Shh, it’ll be fine sweetheart. You’re taking Stevie so well.” Eddie whispered on your skin, hands playing and pinching your nipples to distract you from the discomfort. Steve kept pushing, inch by inch as he grinds his teeth.

You’re tight, too tight that Steve feels every part of your insides hugging his length. When he bottomed out, he released a breath, his forehead now graced with sweat as he waits for you to feel comfortable. Eddie, now sucking your breasts, playfully bit your nipple making you squeak and move your hips. Steve took this as a sign, pulling out until the tip before slamming back in, making you choke a sob. Steve moaned loudly, breathing ragged as he slowly find his pace. “Fuck,oh fuck— honey—“ he mumbled, his fingers gripping your thighs as if his life depends on it, dipping a little to fuck you in a deep angle.

His cock was hitting your cervix, his hips now snapping in an animalistic way that every thrust of his comes with a moan and strings of praises from him.

“Taking my length like a good girl”

“Yeah? Am I filling you up real good, princess?”

“Fuck, look at you. So fucked out. Your cunt is taking me so well like your fucking made for us.”

You only answered him with whines and moans, drooling from the pleasure that both men are making you feel. You answered every praise with a series of “ah ah ah” in rhythm with his every thrust, though a particular thrust made you cry out, nails raking over his arms as you try to hold him close. Steve chuckled, hitting the spot again. “Right there? God— you’re so beautiful.” He leaned in when Eddie backed away, his lips finding yours. Steve licked the sides of your lips to clean your mess slightly before slotting his on yours. He licked your bottom lip, making you open your mouth. Teeths clashing and tongues colliding, he savoured the feeling of your softness on his taste buds. Never have he felt on high like this for someone, the amount of pleasure doubled inside him. Your nails raked on his broad back as you try to hug him close, Steve’s head now burried on the side of your neck, leaving marks on your neck. You cry out in pleasure and overstimulation, face scrunched while feel your body chasing its high. Your climax hit you like a truck, sobbing as you feel your release while Steve continues to pound on you like a wolf in rut.

Eddie watched with envy and lust, tugging on his own cock to relieve some pressure while his other hand holds the camera to film you and Steve. His own patience wearing thin when he noticed the cream at the base of Steve’s cock while your thighs shake. Eddie wanted to shove his cock down your throat at the same time but held himself back knowing how oversensitive you might be to take them on both.

Steve groaned when he felt the stickiness of your release with every thrust, his hips slowly faltering, feeling himself close. “I’m so close honey— g-god you’re sucking me in so well. Want me to fuck you full, sweet girl?” Your hands gripped his arms again, trying to shake your head with how overstimulated you are. Steve only hissed, before pulling out of you to tug on his cock and spill his release on your stomach. He threw his head back, combing his hair while he spill every bit on you, watching it paint your stomach and chest. Your quivering thighs rests on the mattress, twitching slightly. Steve’s ragged breaths can be heard, smiling to himself. If this is how it feels every time he gets to taste you, then he will make sure that he gets to taste you every chance he gets.

With a sigh, Eddie pointed the camera on your wasted appearance. Eyes closed as your hair sticks to your forehead and skin wildly, lips red and slick with the amount of times you’ve bitten it out of pleasure, tears staining your cheeks in euphoria. Eddie held your face affectionately; his heart being squeezed in delight and softness as you open your eyes to look at him beneath your lashes. You leaned into his touch and sighed. The action made his skin heat up with want and need, letting go of the camera before holding your face between his hands to kiss you deeply. You softly hummed in the kiss, mouth quickly opening and letting Eddie explore every crevice of your mouth, his tongue toying yours as he slots himself in between you.

Eddie pulled away slowly, string of saliva connecting your lips as his hands explore every inch of you. His rough, calloused hands took its time with every curve as if savouring and burning it in his mind. Fuck his conscience, he wants you like this for him every time. When he felt your body relaxed under his touch, his lips found your sternum down to the vallety of your breasts, leaving trails of wet kisses and hickeys. Your hands found his hair, tangling your fingers as Eddie continues his actions. The slight tug of his hair when he sucked hard on your skin made his cock twitch, making him move away to flip you on your stomach.

He watched you relax on your forearms, eyes finding Steve as he sat down near the edge of the bed to watch you two. Body now relaxed as he took a quick smoke, eyes wrinkling as he smiles to the both of you. You just looked at him with hooded eyes, before you looked back at Eddie when you felt him slide his tip in your folds. “I’ll never get tired of this if this is what you look like every time you come undone.” He murmured, licking his bottom lip as he slowly inch his way in to you. Eddie’s eyes drinking how you back is arched deliciously, hands finding the curves of your waist to knead and grope.

The intrusion made you gasp, your eyes closing with the seansation once again. Eddie tried to pace himself knowing how rough Steve has gotten you, but the mixture of your cum and squirt, the tightness of your pussy and how it feels around him made it impossible. Once balls deep, he quickly found himself pulling back to his tip before slamming his hips onto you once again. The rough trust made you wantonly moan, gripping the sheets with your mouth agape.

It was a never-ending cycle of pleasure for you. Eddie’s hands now gripping your hips that he is sure will leave bruises on your skin, his balls slapping your clit as he gives you deep-fast thrusts to hit that one thing that makes you scream in need. You turned your head to the side, fresh tears now streaming down your cheeks, making Steve crawl towards you to wipe them away.

“Oh baby, such a perfect girl for us. Cannot ask for more.” He whispers in awe, soft lips kissing your heavy eyelids as you take every inch of Eddie’s cock, your nose scrunching in pleasure as Eddie finds your clit once again, this time rubbing it fast. He felt you clench on him, making his hips falter for a bit and a his felt out of his lips before continuing his punishing pace. You cry out as you feel him pull your hair, your puffy cunt gushing out slick because of the sting of his action, your walls crumbling down as your release shock you.

Eddie huskily moaned, cream forming at the base of his cock once more while you try to crawl away from him, feeling so spent and overstimulated, making his grip on your hips tighten to the point that you feel his rings kiss your skin. He continued abusing your g-spot with every thrust, his breathing heavier that earlier, chasing his own high that is so close he can feel it all over his body. “F-fuck— peaches I-I’m— I’m gonna cum on this fucking pussy— s-so fucking good—“

He spanked your ass, groping the flesh when it became red. He spanked it again and again, feeling you clench every time. His thumb ghosted slightly on your puckered hole, mumblig to himself how him and Steve will use it one of these days. The sensation made his breath hitch, hips coming to a still before he pulls out to tug on his cock and spill his every bit of his cum on your back, “fuck!” He loudly exclaimed. Eddie threw his head back, strings of curses falling out of his mouth. He slumped down on the bed, chest heaving to chase his breath, staring directly at your abused cunt that is dripping your juices. Your body gave up, laying down flat on the bed with your thighs slightly shaking.

Eddie and Steve looked at your tired form, chest swelling with a mixture of emotions. Guilt, pride, a certain affection and softness towards you. Now that they have you on their palms, yor taste on their tongue, they won’t let you go no matter what you say.

Both Steve and Eddie stood up. Eddie turning the cameras off and grabbing some boxers for him and his best friend. While Steve directly went straight to the bathroom to grab a wash cloth and ran it under lukewarm water to clean up the mess they made on your body. The men gently laid you on your back, your quiet snores can be heard as they clean you up and make you comfortable the best that they could, placing you in between them.

Steve slid his arm under your head while Eddie’s arm draped over your chest to give you a hug and cuddle you, “I know we planned this out but— I don’t think we can really let her go after this.” Eddie mumbled, sleep slowly crawling on his system while looking at you. Steve only chuckled, careful not to wake you up, combing his hair. “Me too. That was just— fucking phenomenal.” Both men knew that at that moment, they’ll have you any way possible and have every inch of you.

As the night settles, the cool air of Hawkins made its way to the room you all shared, where soft and steady breaths can only be heard while both men cuddled you. Steve’s thoughts ran at all the things that might happen when you wake up, while Eddie’s full of thoughts about how quickly their obsession with you is pulling them in deeper and deeper, yet both held no remorse for what they have done.

The sun rays were peeking through the room’s heavy maroon curtains, one particular ray shining across your face. You grunt, body slowly trying to twist into a more comfortable position while your head throbs. Trying to turn, you felt restricted with two set of arms holding you, making your body jolt to sit up. Your eyes immediately opened, ignoring the harsh sunlight and the throbbing pain of your head as you look around the room.

This isn’t your room. Too far from your usual décor. Your face slowly pales at the realisation, before you feel someone shift beside you. You looked down and saw a pair of familiar tattoed arms laid across your stomach, and a mop of chestnut hair resting on the other side. You felt both of their touches on your skin, making you look down and realising that you are naked. Its like a bucket of ice water was splashed against you, a gasp escaping your dried throat that almost choked you when your hands found its way to your mouth to cover the shock. You tried to wiggle out of their hold, the situation slowly sinking on you as you try to remember what brought you on the bed with them. You ignored Eddie’s soft grunts when you tried to move his arms away, trying to crawl out of bed as a wave of nausea hits you.

“Peach?” Eddie grunted, his voice low and deep, brown eyes slowly opening to look at you. Eddie’s voice made Steve shuffle close to your naked body, his voice laced with sleep when he noticed you sitting up “Sweetheart, come back to bed please.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes when the sunlight hits him. You shook your head, a shaky breath escaping your lips as you successfully crawled out of the bed.

Your feet found the cold floor, your legs slightly trembling, taking notice of the slight stickiness between your legs which made you hold yourself. Quickly making your way towards the open door of the bathroom, you saw your reflection which made tears cascade on your cheeks and bile slowly rising up your throat.

Steve and Eddie quickly followed your form, clad in only their boxers. They stayed outside near the open door, watching you take yourself in the mirror. Your hair is dishevelled, hickeys littered across your skin. You looked down and saw some bruises near your hips and thighs along with some more marks that both men did. It made the bile rise up your throat quickly, flinging yourself towards the toilet bowl as you retched and vommited everything inside your stomach. Both men quickly went inside, Eddie holding your hair up while Steve rubs your back soothingly, not one of them saying a word.

Emptying more than what your stomach had, you sobbed loudly on their touch when Steve wiped your mouth gently with a cloth. Your mind is not comprehending what is happening, nor remembering how it became like this. You cried out in frustration as you think of the night before, always getting stuck on the part where you had drinks, making you cover your face in shame and guilt. “Shh, shh, come on honey. Let’s get you back on the room.” Steve softly whispered, helping Eddie guide your boneless form while you continue to cry.

You sobbed even when they were putting one of Eddie’s shirt on you and making you take some sips of water, your body feeling uncomfortably sticky. You have never imagined your first time like this. Losing your virginity like this. For you, you always thought that your first time would be with someone you dated for a long time that you cannot help but love them. Soft dances, gentle caresses and touches that won’t leave marks. All those romance books made you think that your first time should be a gift to the guy you’ll love for the first time as well. The shame of losing it this way made you sobbed harder, your heartbeat quickening as you get overwhelmed with all the emotions hitting you all at once.

Your train of thought was shattered when both of them kneeled in front of you, Steve rubbing soft circles on your thighs while Eddie holds your hand. “Breathe,baby. Breathe.” The older of the three of you whispered, brown eyes holding pity when you wipe your tears, looking through blurry eyes at the both of them. “Why..?” You manage to croak out, voice raspy and rough making you cough a bit.

Steve gave Eddie a quick look before he speaks “You wanted it, sweetheart. You told us last night.” He spoke gently, a pang of guilt hitting him when he said those words, but he knows that he needs to do this in order to have you fully. “W-what?” You mumbled in disbelief, “b-but I-I can’t remember last night—! I-I’m trying to but I c-can’t!” You cried out, hands gripping your hair in annoyance as you keep on trying to remember. “I-I lost my virginity this way when I— I told myself I won’t— this is wrong..” you told them, wiping your tears. The word made Eddie’s jaw tick in annoyance, Steve’s stare turning dark. “I-I’m sorry Mr. Harrington, Mr. Munson I-I— this is wrong— I m-must’ve been— this was a mistake I-I’m sorry.” You try to get out of their hold, planning to scramble your way out with your clothes on your arms but was cut off when Eddie stood up, his neck red as he try to control his emotions when you kept on saying that it was a mistake.

“Mistake?” He scoffed, crossing his inked arms over his chest as he looks down on you, the warmth pooling his brown eyes now gone. “Mistake? Sweetheart—“ he leaned down a little, watching you look up at him beneath your lashes. “You asked for it.” The deep timbreof his voice made your skin crawl, shaking your head in disbelief, looking down to meet Steve’s eyes that are now stern cold. “You did ask for it. In a sweet way too.” Steve answered with a smile not reaching his eyes, fingers fiddling with the frayed end of the shirt you’re wearing before he continues “Do you think we’ll do this if you did not ask?” Your mouth hanged open, stuttering with what they both said “I-I that’s— T-that’s not how I—“ you try to reason out, feeling your throat constrict in anxiety.

“Not how you what?” Eddie asked out of annoyance “not how you act when drunk? How would you know when its your first time drinking?” His harsh tone made you feel small, blinking your tears away. Steve only hummed, still kneeling in front of you. “Y-Yes! But- but I would not react that way— I-I know myself! I—“ you argued, looking frantically at both of them. Your stubborness made both of them sigh, Steve standing up suddenly to walk away and grab something.

Your eyes followed him, wearing only nothing but sweatpants. You noticed him holding a video camera, face now void of emotion before putting it on your lap. “Here ya’ go. Maybe this will refresh your memory?” You stared at him in confusion before looking back up at Eddie that only motioned for you to go on. “Open it.” He mumbled while your trembling hands try to figure out how to turn the video camera on. “Now press this one, the gallery.” Steve asked you to, hitting play after you follow his instructions. Your stomach churns in anxiety when the video immediately started.

Your eyes widened when you watched Eddie’s face disappeared between your thighs, your ears not believing that all the needy whimpers heard from the video came out of your mouth. “Yeah? You like that sweet girl? Told you, all you just need to do is ask.” Steve’s voice can be heard despite all your whimpers, Eddie chuckling when he moved away slightly to slide in his finger inside you, making you moan really loudly. The obscene noises you all made pricked your skin with goosebumps. The video continued, closing your eyes when you heard Eddie say “Shit! Did you see that Harrington?! We fucking got a squirter here!” And as you cry out on the video saying “more, please. P-please..”

Eddie noticed you closing your eyes, huffing before he took hold of your face. “Open your eyes and watch. See if you didn’t asked for it.” You felt helpless, only nodding while your lower lip tremble, trying to hold your tears in. Steve played the next video, the camera pointing towards your face and torso, tears evident as Steve pounded your pussy roughly. His harsh breaths and moans can be heard mix with yours. The camera focused on his cock going in and out of you, making Steve’s cock harden while he watch the video with you.

“God— you love being fucked like this don’t you?’ You only hummed as an answer in the video, making Steve thrusting into you deep. “What? I can’t hear you honey.” He teasingly asked, making you answer loudly “uh-huh! Wan’it!” You looked so fucked out in the video, arms holding him close when he leaned in for a kiss. Steve pressed next which played Eddie’s video, fucking you from behind. His rough hands spanking your meaty ass, watching it jiggle before groping it. You heard Eddie mumble when his thumb touched your ass hole “me and Steve will be using this soon, right doll?” You watched in disbelief till his cum painted your back, making you turn off the camera.

You did not notice that tears were streaming down your face again, looking at both men in disbelief while your mind screams at how disappointing you are. With a trembling hand, you handed them the camera while shaking your head. “N-no. No—“ you covered your mouth in shock before breaking down. Your whole body trembled, making Eddie sit down beside you like Steve. Both of them holding you close.

You don’t have the energy to push them away or deny their touches despite it bringing you an odd sense of comfort. Steve and Eddie held you for a few minutes which felt like house, waiting for your breathing to calm down. “Now that you’ve watched it, do you believe us now..? I told you, it wasn’t just us that wanted it. You wanted it first..” Steve whispered, tucking some strands of your hair behind your ear that sticked to your skin because of your tears. “You kept on begging us! I knew we should’ve took evidence of it from the very start, right Eds?” Steve asked the elder that is now resting his face on your shoulder. “Yep, should have recorded how clingy you were, how polite even. You mommy and daddy raised you right,huh?” The mere mention of your parents sent your mind into a frenzy, body shaking when you begin to sob uncontrollably again “Please! P-please don’t tell— don’t tell t-them please! M-mommy and daddy—!” You were slowly panicking, mind drifting that Steve held your face between his hands. “Oh honey, no. No, we won’t tell them. Cause now, you are also our good girl. Right?” His thumb wiped some of your tears away as you stare at him before turning your head slightly to find Eddie already looking at you.

“Mhm, should be our good girl if we don’t want you mommy and daddy finding out, huh?” Eddie huskily whispered on your tear-stained cheeks,making you gulp. Steve looked at you in anticipation, cocking an eyebrow waiting for an answer. You slowly nodded your head, head hurting from getting overwhelmed that your body doesn’t have the energy to go against too. “Words, honey. Use your words now, come on. Say that you’re our good girl forever and we won’t let your mommy and daddy find out” Steve’s voice was clipped, tone serious when he looked down on you. “Y-your good girl..” you mumbled, eyes looking down when you felt both of them grin.

It’s only morning but your body felt tired as if you’ve spent the whole day awake. Your mind too numb while you feel like the room closes in on you, you closed your eyes, sighing in what you’re not sure if its because you’re tired or if its because you accepted your defeat. The shame and guilt that you did this all on yourself. Steve and Eddie’s words sinking in deep inside your mind. You let go, resting your head on Eddie’s which made Steve chuckle darkly.

“There she is. Finally found our good girl, Munson.”

299 notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

Note

Prompt #15 with Megumi? Rivals to lovers with happy ending please ♥️

There you go, I'm so so sorry this took so long <3 I hope you still enjoy it, I find it quite hard to write enemies to lovers under 5000 words :D

Opposites attract

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,3k

Synopsis: Megumi hated you the moment you stepped into Jujutsu High for the first time. As time flies, he always sees himself confronted with you on missions. However, one of these missions makes him rethink his feelings towards you

Warnings: Megumi is an ass from time to time, language

„Why am I here, blindworm?“

There you sit, sloughing on your chair at the classroom, feet stretched out in front of you. Damn, you were taking the best nap of your life when your stupid sensei came storming in and woke you up rudely. He surely wants to send you on another mission – hopefully alone. If you have to work with one of these losers again, you break off.

Especially him.

God, you truly hated Megumi Fushiguro. His quiet way, tall figure and calculating personality. He is quite the opposite of your outspoken, confident and risky self. Maybe that’s why you two don’t get along at all. And maybe that’s the reason why you always end up together. Hopefully not today…

“As charming as ever, I like that. I have a mission for you, (y/n)!”, Gojo cries out in joy.

“Again? I just returned from one. Remember?”

“I remember that you wiped the floor with Megumi’s ass, even though that wasn’t exactly the task”, he replies dryly.

“Yeah, that was fun.”

Both you and Megumi are grade 2 sorcerers while being in your first school year, which means that you can basically carry out missions alone but are happily sent together by Gojo for more complicated matters – much to your chagrin and probably his. So whenever you get the chance to give Megumi a hard time you gladly seize the opportunity.

“Don’t be so rough, I know you have a sweet spot for charming boys like him.”

Oh, you know all too well that your sensei just wants to get on your nerves. But as soon as he mentions positive feelings towards a coward like Megumi, you can’t help but explode.

“Shut up, ew! I have no sweet spot for anybody!”

“Yeah, everyone here knows that”, Megumi’s low voice mumbles behind you.

“You.”

Your voice is shaking in venom while the vein on your forehead threatens to pop out any minute.

“What the hell is that loser doing here?”, you groan, face completely twisted in annoyance.

You just knew it. Seems like it’s Satoru’s favorite job to annoy the shit out of you by always putting the two of you together.

“Come on, give me Panda. Or what about Maki? Some girl-power would be nice. But not that”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“God, you’re so full of yourself. Remember the last time when I saved your puny figure from getting eaten alive by that curse? You’re probably the worst and cruelest person I’ve ever met”, Megumi barks back in annoyance.

“I don’t mind being the villain in your story because you’re a clown in mine, Fushiguro.”

“That was the nicest conversation you two had in a long time, great! Now let’s get to work, I’m sure you’re doing just fine my children!”, Gojo interrupts while hugging you both.

Is there a way out of this madness? Maybe you can pretend you’re sick, too weak to go on a mission. But that’s not your standard and you know that. Giving Megumi the satisfaction of staying at home while he gets beaten up isn’t an option.

“Maybe I’m lucky and you die on me”, you mumble under your breath, storming out of the room faster than Megumi can follow past Yuji who just stares at you in awe.

God, Megumi hates you so much. How can a person be so full of herself? Yes, your abilities are quite outstanding, your curse technique is very good for being a first class student and to be honest you are actually pretty handsome, but the problem is that you are very aware of those facts. And you make no bones rubbing that into everyone’s face – especially his. His stolen glance is set on your back. You do have a really nice figure, feminine curves even though you train several hours a day. Yes, really attractive.

He shakes his head in disbelief. What the hell is he thinking? You are the crappiest person he knows, everything about you is disgusting, he hates you!

“Wow, they really hate each other”, Yuji comments, eyes following the two of you in disbelief.

“No, they don’t. Trust me, this is something completely different. And I love nothing more than teasing that out”, Gojo replies with a cheeky grin.

______________________________________________________________

“Stop breathing so loud, Fushiguro.”

Kiyotaka can’t help but glance at you in the rearview mirror, too stunned to speak by your nonsensical words. Why does Gojo keep sending the two of you on missions together? The air in the car is so thick that it could be sliced by a katana.

“Rot in hell, (y/n).”

He never heard such cruel words come out of Megumi’s mouth except when you are around.

“I’m already there, you’re here after all”, you bark back.

“Stop fighting you two, we’re almost there.”

Your gaze wanders around the rainy area. Somehow he’s right, you should focus on your mission. The fact that two of you were sent here can only mean that it’s going to get ugly. Once again it’s about a school, once again a lot of young people are dying. You need to stop this madness.

“There you are, I’ll create the curtain now. Good look you two.”

“Skilled people don’t need luck, but maybe it’ll help you Megumi.”

His blood boils in anger, just a glimpse into your stupid pretty faces challenges his self-control all over. Who do you think you are?

“What’s wrong with you? Can you just pull yourself together until we ended this mission? I hate you too, but now we have to work”, Megumi smacks into your direction.

“Always the good boy, such a role model! I want to puke in your face, it makes me fucking sick!”, you challenge him, watching as his facial expression darkens with every word.

“You.”

With a swift motion, you’re trapped against the wall by his body. Your sharp and fast breath hangs in the thick air between you two, the way he pins your wrists against the brick wall makes…sparks fly. You can’t help but notice his striking blue eyes when he glares down at you, the warmth that radiates from his body along with his delicious scent. Fuck, what is wrong with you? Why is your face heating up under his gaze, why does it feel so…good to feel his frame pressed against your own? His lips suddenly look so inviting, so warm and soft. But no, you hate him, you hate Megumi since you first met, he is everything you despise reincarnated in one person. God, he annoys you so badly, you need to get out of his grip, you need to-

“Stop it. I’m serious”, he gasps against your face, lips so close to your own that you can feel his breath brush against your now prickly skin.

Fuck, you see stars. His grip around your wrist tightens, his face is getting closer to yours. Will he…? No, that’s impossible, Megumi hates you with all his heart, he told you over and over again. And you hate him too since the moment you first laid your eyes on him. But why…why do you feel the urge to press your lips against his?

“Or what?”

Your voice is suddenly so soft and vulnerable. God, you look so adorable with that pink blush creeping up your cheeks, lips parted and doe eyes wide open. That desire, that urge to brush his lips against yours seems to become unbearable. Just once, just this one damn time. Just to prove to himself how disgusting you are.

Boom.

It happens faster than any of you can react. The wall behind you explodes and buries you under its rubble.

You are instantly greeted by scorching pain consuming your whole body. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Blood streams down your face like a waterfall, your right leg aches in the most disgusting way imaginable.

“Fuck, are you alright (y/n)?”, Megumi screams, eyes widen in horror.

So much blood. Your whole body seems to be covered in crimson. Even though you’re not screaming or even groaning, he can clearly see the shock creeping up your eyes when realization hits you. But he has to focus on that curse. Yes, he needs to take care of that before he can help you.

You desperately try to free yourself from the debris that threatens to crush your body while Megumi fights off the curse that seems to be responsible for all of this. As usual, his facial expression is dead serious while his little shikigami work for him.

“How bad is it?”, he questions, eyes focused on the monster in front of him.

Your leg feels like burning alive, a little glance at your body is enough for you to realize that you are not well. Maybe even so critical that time is running out for you.

“It’s bad”, you hiss back while pressing your trembling hand against the gash in your thigh.

A few broken ribs, a laceration on the head, here and there some open wounds and abrasions – nothing too serious, you’ll get over that. But the giant gash in your thigh is definitely something else. Your leg was almost completely pierced by an iron rod. Surely that wouldn’t be a problem either if the bar was still in you, but it isn’t. And that’s why you’re bleeding out at the moment.

Finally that curse is gone. Just a look at you is enough to make Megumi turn pale in an instant. You’re sitting in a pool of your own blood, lids hanging heavy in your eyes. His heart skips a beat when realization hits him like a wall. You could die right here if he doesn’t do anything.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here”, he mumbles, hands on their way to grab your body.

“I don’t need your help, Fushiguro”, you growl at him.

“Are you sure? Cause it sure does look like it”, Megumi replies dryly and begins to inspect your wounds.

“If even half of that blood is yours you need to get out of here right now. I’m calling Gojo-sensei.”

“Everything hurts”, you blur out.

The sight of your terrified eyes makes Megumi’s heart sink in his chest. He has never seen you like this. But what’s even worse is the fact that he is so damn worried about you, that the thought of losing you alone makes his breath hitch.

“Stay with me. Don’t close your eyes.”

His voice sounds so soft, echoes as sweet as honey in your ear.

“Megumi.”

His strong arms free you from the rest of the rubble above you and lift your numb body off the ground with ease. Your vision slowly but surely begins to get blurry, it gets so hard to keep your tired eyes open.

“What is it, (y/n)?”, he softly asks while maneuvering his shikigami around in order to find the other curses that have to be here.

“I don’t remember a moment where you were so kind to me”, you purr.

“Well, that’s because there wasn’t a single moment where you were so kind to me”, he remarks with a small smile.

“I h-have to say…That…That you’re not…t-that bad.”

Your words are a true mess, so quiet that he has to focus on your low voice in order to understand. But oh you look so lovely, wearing a soft smile on your lips and that tender gleam in your eyes makes his heart skip a beat. Over and over, he told himself that he truly hates you, that you are an evil person that doesn’t deserve his affection. Always keen to hide his stolen glances and the way your sight makes him hold his breath. Your body, your brain, your everything. But seeing you like this, vulnerable laying in his hands, he can’t help but admire you. Admire a woman this strong and independent, a woman who never fears anything.

“You’re pretty okay too I guess”, he replies, hands wrapped tighter around your sagging body.

“How about staying awake for a little longer? I bet you can’t make it until we’re back at Jujutsu High.”

“I bet I will, asshole.”

____________________________________________________________

“She kept bugging me about telling you that she stayed awake to the end. And that you’re a loser.”

“So she’s fine, that’s great!”, Gojo proclaims and pads Megumi’s shoulder.

It was a close call, he knows it. And that sweet seconds just before the wall behind your back shattered…What was that? Affection? No, no, no. That’s simply not possible. You are the worst person walking on this planet. The thought of you alone makes his gut twist in disgust and heats up his face. You drive him crazy like no other. And the fact that you almost died and were a decent person for one second won’t change that.

“Should have left her there. I’m leaving”, Megumi mumbles and turns away.

Why was he here anyway? Shoko already stitched him up a few hours ago, he has no business being in the hospital wing. “Didn’t you want to visit her, Megumi-chan?”

“I would rather train with you than seeing her. Why would I care about her well-being?”, he remarks quickly.

Gojo and Shoko watch him as he storms out.

“Do they really think they hate each other?”

“Yup”, Gojo confirms.

The fresh air of the evening hits his face with full force. Fuck, what the hell is wrong with him? Why is he feeling this way? He shouldn’t be worried about your well-being, he shouldn’t care at all about the fact that you are injured. After all, you put yourself in that situation. God, he just hates you so much. In his world, there’s no place for positive feelings towards you. But still… He stops in his tracks, eyes glued to the ground.

Why does he want to turn around, to let his feet carry him into the hospital room, to sit beside you? What is it that urges him to at least check on you? Pictures of you flood his mind. Your breathtaking smile, the stunning glimmer in your eyes, the confidence that’s dripping from your sweet voice. Why do you have to be so damn perfect and why the hell is his heart beating so fast by the thought of it alone?

As if in trance, he begins to walk back into the direction of the hospital wing, back where you are. He has to prove to himself how much he hates you just one more time. Just once…

He quietly sneaks past the room where he hears Shoko and Gojo still talking. If you have to stay for the night, you have to be down the corridor on the right. Over and over, he looks over his shoulder. If someone catches him sneaking up on you he might need to burry himself alive. All the jokes, the constant teasing from Gojo about you and him really get on his nerves. Why can’t they see that he fucking hates you?

There it is, the door to you. As noiseless as possible he opens it and gets immediately greeted by your gaze. You almost look surprised when he closes the door behind him again and awkwardly stands in the middle of the room, simply staring at you with his hands in his pockets.

“Didn’t expect you here”, you comment dryly.

“Yeah, I didn’t plan on coming either.”

“Did Shoko tell you that I stayed awake?”

“Sure.”

“And that you’re a loser?”

He gifts you with his most annoyed look.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Listen, there’s something I wanted to tell you in person…”, you begin while nervously fumbling with your fingers.

This catches Megumi off guard. You always know what to say or react. How is it possible that you are jumpy? And to top it off, because of him?

“Why did you save me, Megumi?”

What on earth is going on? He scratches the back of his head, too stunned to speak. Are you serious?

“Just because you think I’m the bad guy doesn’t mean I am a bad guy, y’know”, he mumbles.

You let his words sink in, gaze never leaving his face. The last hours really showed you that Megumi isn’t as bad as you always tried to make yourself believe. He saved you despite all the things you said to him without even blinking, risking his own life to save yours. Maybe…maybe it isn’t even hatred you feel towards him.

But something completely different.

“I will never say this again but…I think you’re my favorite enemy”, you confess quietly with a small smile.

Megumi’s heart stops beating for a second, your sweet words triggering feelings in him he tried so hard to avoid. God, how many nights did he tell himself that you are no good, that he just has to hate you with all his heart? But…Is he really hating you though?

“I can probably give that back”, he mumbles.

For once in his life, Megumi sees nothing but your striking beauty and brain when his gaze meets yours. Maybe, just maybe you aren’t as bad as he thought you are. But why does he feel so strongly towards you? What the hell is wrong with his heart?

“Let me kiss you. Just once. Just to prove myself that I hate you”, he blurts out.

You hold your breath, dopamine, adrenalin and who knows what other hormones pump through your veins and leave you dizzy for a second. You didn’t just hallucinate him saying that, right? The sincerity in his eyes tells you he’s dead serious.

“Sure”, you reply automatically.

With fast steps he crosses the room, now standing in front of you. And then he bends down to your bed, grabs your face and kisses you so passionately that you forget how to breathe for a moment. Your tongue intertwines with his, dancing in the most delicate way while you hold onto his strong shoulders for support. Is this really happening or are you dreaming again? Just a few hours ago, you spat venom at him like every other month before. But this…This feels so much better than constantly insulting him and to pretend that you hate him with all your heart. You realize with all clarity of your intense kiss that you probably never really hated him. No, this feeling his completely different from disgust.

He breaks away from you, panting hard just like you. Your glossy eyes look up to him, hands still resting against his shoulders.

“Yes, I do. I absolutely hate you”, he breathes out.

“I hate you too”, you moan before pulling him close with all force for another passionate kiss.

Maybe, just maybe Megumi Fushiguro isn’t so bad after all.

But just maybe.

_____________________________________________________________

Bonus:

“Oh, (y/n)! Are you feeling any better?”, Yuji shouts at you while waving you over.

“OMG, are you seeing this. Am I dreaming?”, Nobara mutters next to him, completely mesmerized by the sight of you and Megumi.

Are those shikigami? Your hand is intertwined with Megumi’s, the both of you walking next to each other and…smile? Since when exactly are you smiling at Fushiguro?

“What do you mean?...Wait, when the hell did this happen?”

“Megumi, I thought you hate (y/n)!”

“Would you two mind to stop staring at us like that? (y/n) and I are kind of a thing now”, Megumi explains briefly while stopping in front of both of his friends.

“Did he force you into this, (y/n)?”, Nobara whispers in your ear.

You let out a heartfelt laughter, the confusion of your friends matching with your own.

“This might be the worst decision I ever made, but let’s see how it all works out.”

Megumi gives you a reproachful look and squeezes your hand firmer. Oh, even in a relationship, there will always be that small part of him that hates you.

Along with the much bigger part that loves you with all his heart.

354 notes · View notes

enassbraid · 1 year

Note

helloooo!! can I request a the pjsk boys with a reader who is "perfect"/popular (example: good grades, a lot of friends, talented in art/most school subjects, etc) but they actually hate it (bc people keep using it as an argument when the reader discusses about their grades)? I'm sorry if this is too specific bc this is basically a summary of me 😭 But anyway, thanks in advance, I love your writing <)

-> 𝐖𝐢��𝐡 𝐚 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞…

You can’t help being a natural at almost anything you do, just like others can’t help seeing that as your only trait. Fortunately, there’s always someone who doesn’t see you only for your skills…

With Akito Shinonome, Toya Aoyagi, Tsukasa Tenma & Rui Kamishiro | Genre - Comfort with a fair amount of angst

Cw) anxiety, pent up emotions, belittling, fights (none between reader and characters listed above), it gets noticeably shorter during Tsukasa’s part cause I was tired

Akito felt honored at first. You, of all people, saw something good enough in him that was actually worth something. It almost didn’t feel real. But this type of thinking didn’t last long, not even a week in fact.

He quickly realized he shouldn’t have been idolizing you the way he was, and you were still a regular person just like him. You may be more skilled, intelligent and quicker than others, but you were still a regular high schooler at the end of the day.

But that didn’t make others think the same way.

You made everything look so easy, so simple. Your peers admired you for this, and held you up on the pedestal Akito once did. A part of him worried about you. After all, all these people can’t acknowledge any flaws you have. You should be happy, right?

But that wasn’t the case at all.

You felt pressured, anxious, worried. What if you messed something up? Would anyone ever see you the same way? Everything had to be perfect, it just has to.

The street singer recognized your thinking, it felt all too familiar to him. He assured you it’s okay to make mistakes, and not everything has to be perfect. But that’s what he thinks, what about what everyone else thinks? It didn’t take long for you to find that out however.

“Ah, I can’t believe I failed the exam… I didn’t think it’d be that hard!” One of your classmates said.

“Tell me about it, half the questions weren’t even on the study guide we got.” Another classmate replied.

The exam was… hard. But it wasn’t impossible. It felt like it was designed to challenge everyone rather than actually test the students. Even you flunked the test a bit.

“I bet you (Name) over there still managed to get a 100, right (Name)?” One of which called over to you, you didn’t bother to remember who though.

“Actually… I got a lower grade as well. 78 out of a 100. It was pretty difficult this time.” You replied.

You were hoping your words would make the others feel less failure. If you got a low grade- what they considered a perfect classmate and student- then they shouldn’t stress too much over their failures. Right?

You wish you were right.

“Are you kidding me? You get a 100 on like… everything! How did your grade drop that bad?” The girl scowled at you, feeling as if you were mocking her for some reason.

“Well it wasn’t the easiest, and it was designed to challenge us, including me.” You said back. Your two classmates looked at you in disbelief. Were you being serious?

“It’s different coming from you. You place in the top 10 all the time during these tests! Usually your first! You should have been the one who passed.” Ouch.

Those words hit you like a brick. Yeah… they were right, you were supposed to be the saving grace for the class’s average. And you went ahead and flopped just like everyone else? They were right, you had no excuse.

The bell rang and you picked up your bag, hastily walking out of the classroom. You couldn’t be seen like this, everyone’s going to find out…

Navigating the crowded hallways, you search for the school’s exit. The staff will only think you got sick and had to go home, no one would ever think of you as a class cutter. If it’s only one time… they shouldn’t mind.

Right as you were about to push the door open, a hand grabs your shoulder.

“Where do you think your going..?” A familiar voice asked.

You turn around, fearing the worst and expecting to make eye contact with a teacher.

“…without me.” He finished.

“Akito!”

He let go of your shoulder, figuring you got the hint. He chuckled a bit as your face showed relief. ‘They must have been really worried about getting caught.’ He thinks.

“Great to see you too. Now, would you answer the question?” His voice sounded stern, yet playful.

“It was just… a bad time today. In class I mean. Um, I don’t think I feel comfortable talking about it here though.” You said. The last thing you needed was for anyone to hear how badly you thought you screwed up.

“Alright then, lead the way.”

You looked both ways, making sure there were no witnesses nearby before pushing the door open and making a run for it, your boyfriend not far behind. You two ran for a few minutes until it was ensured no one was after you.

But neither of you quit moving. Akito wouldn’t say it himself, but he was also itching to get out of there, and was kinda grateful you were as well. Otherwise, he’d probably be suffering alone in school right now. You both were itching to get home- either of your homes.

Opening your front door- much calmer than the last door you opened, you didn’t waste a second to walk through. Kicking off your shoes and hanging your bag up, the ginger behind you following suit, you were finally home.

“So, what happened earlier?” He asked, throwing himself on your bed.He’s been wondering ever since he caught you at the school door, it was very out of character for you to.. rebel… like that.

“Right.. I had a little slip up in class. They were talking about tests grades- the most recent one they got. Everyone either failed or got below an 80, including me. I thought… I thought telling them I had a low grade as well would make them feel a bit better. But they got frustrated- saying something about how I can’t possibly fail a test.” You sighed, it was still fresh in your mind. Even as you crawled into your bed where you’re supposed to be calm.

Akito stayed silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts and thinking of the right words to use. Even if you didn’t say it flat out, he knew you were troubled at the thought of people thinking differently of you. You felt this strange ‘responsibility’ of maintaining this perfectionist reputation. He was never sure how to feel about that. Should he have reassured you more? Been more worried? He couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“You shouldn’t worry about what those bitches think. They clearly didn’t understand that test wasn’t meant to be passed with a perfect score, huh? You did though, and you still passed right? Even if you failed, that’s okay. At the end of the day… isn’t it just a number?”

You took a moment to process his words. He was right, you did still pass. Even if it wasn’t a perfect score… a passing grade is enough, right?

“You don’t like the way you are, don’t you?” He continued, this time getting past your imaginary mask.

You shook your head silently. Of course you didn’t. Everyone expects so much from you all the time, it’s so… stressful. You despised it, you’d do anything to be an average person.

He didn’t need you to say anything, your reaction was enough. He shifted closer to you so his presence felt less vague, it comforted you.

“I hope you realize you don’t have to do everything right, and I never want you to feel as if you have to keep that up around me.” Your heart warmed, of course he’d say that.

Even if everyone else wanted the most from you, Akito only wanted whatever you had to give. If it was nothing, that’s fine. You alone is enough for him.

It was hard for anyone to imagine Toya with a partner who’s so… outgoing. Even if it wasn’t intentional, you seemed to know anyone and everyone in the district. But as they say, opposites attract.

He never minded how well known you were. At times he may feel just a tad jealous when someone holds you up for too long, but besides that, it was never too much of a bother. He may not know what it’s like to be in your shoes, but he thought he had a good idea of what it was like.

Everyone knew you, almost all of them taking a liking to you. It was rare to hear of someone who disliked you for reasons other than jealousy. You must always have options when it comes to going out, and you’re probably entertained at functions like that often.

At least, that’s what Toya believed at first.

Slowly over time, he began to pick up on your sudden shifts in facial expressions. You were all smiles when an acquaintance came up to talk to you. But the moment they walked away, your face instantly dropped into what looked like annoyance.

You’d giggle with someone, but once they left you scoffed. You’d gossip with someone else, and once they left you’d roll your eyes. But not once did you verbally express complaint.

Toya was no idiot, he realized your stance on your popularity. You weren’t happy about it, at all. He intended in speaking to you about it eventually, but it came sooner than planned unexpectedly…

You were walking down the streets with Toya, on your way to meet up with his group at one of their favorite locations. There were more people walking than usual today, but you didn’t pay any mind to it, considering it irrelevant. But little did you know…

“Oh look, it’s (Name) and their boyfriend! How are you two?” A chipper girl said. She had an… odd… look in her eyes.

“We’re doing pretty good! We were just on our way to meet up with friends actually!” You smiled sweetly, but you felt sick to your stomach knowing who this girl was.

“That’s so cute! If you don’t mind, can me and my friends over there tag along? We won’t be a bother, I swear!” She practically squealed that first part, leaving your ears ringing.

Toya looked between you, the girl, and her friends a few feet away. He caught on to what you were thinking, thankfully.

“Apologies, but the meeting is exclusively for close friends. And we’re in a hurry, so if you’ll excuse us…”

‘He’s my saving grace’ You thought. Although, you thought just a little too soon.

“Wow (Name), you never said anything about your boyfriend being such a douche. You seriously gonna let him make these decisions for you?” You internally screamed at her, calling her all sorts of names. Of course, you refrained from this on the outside.

“He’s not making decisions for me, we are actually in a hurry and this meeting is exclusively for close friends. We need to get going now…” You took off, grabbing Toya’s hand in the process before she could say anything else.

You sighed, of course you had to have a run in like that on what was supposed to be a good day. Who knows what you’ll come home to hear this time. What’s it going to be now? You were a bitch to someone you barley knew simply because you didn’t want to be late? That is something they’d say to bring you down.

The hangout went smooth, no more random encounters with randoms. But the scene from earlier related over and over in your mind.

“(Name), are you alright?” Toya asked. He asked quietly in order to avoid attracting the attention of others, you found it considerate.

“I’m alright, just thinking. That’s all.” Liar.

Toya nodded, averting his attention back to the recording An and Akito were making him listen to. Apparently they were coming up with a new song for their next event, and wanted his input on it.

You found yourself dissociating from the group. It’s been hours, and you just wanted to get home to find out if anything new was spread about you.

“It’s getting late, I think me and (Name) are gonna head home now. Is that good, (Name)?” You practically jumped out of your seat when you heard “head home.”

“Yeah, I’m ready. I’m exhausted and need to go to sleep… I’ll see you all later!” You waved goodbye to everyone alongside Toya. Exiting Weekend Garage, making your way to Toya’s place.

The walk was silent, but a comfortable silent. Neither of you said a word the whole way to his place, but you still knew what the other was thinking.

Opening the door, he stepped aside to let you in first.

“We need to talk about something.” He said.

‘There it is…’ you thought. It was only a matter of time. He lead you upstairs to his room, hoping you’d be more comfortable talking in his own space. You took your spot on his bed, waiting for his next words.

“You’ve been acting strange, or I’ve noticed how strange you act. Specifically when your around people who seem to know you. Does that… make you uncomfortable?” Maybe it wasn’t the time to think of it, but you were relieved this wasn’t a breakup talk.

“It’s… complicated.”

“I’ll listen to any complications you have.”

Taking a deep breath, you let everything out. All the pent up frustration you’ve kept in for so long.

“I’m just so… annoyed. Annoyed with everyone. Not you of course, but all these other people. Everyone thinks I’m happy to hear their gossip about others, but it just makes me view everyone involved differently. Like that girl we saw today, she’s a cheating bitch who cheated on all her exes for some random guy she meets. And then if I tell anyone what I think of someone else, I’m the two-faced one.” You took another breath, you needed it after all that talking.

You threw your head back to the wall, sighing again. You weren’t even sure how it got like this, when all these people saw you as a comfort person. It was starting to stress you out.

Thankfully, Toya caught on. He took your hand in his and started rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. It’s the little actions that always mean the most.

“I couldn’t possibly know how you feel. But what I can tell you is that none of those people deserve you. If all they do is bad mouth others to you, messing with your head, then they could do the same thing back to you. You deserve the best possible friends out there, not people who think they know you.”

“You say I deserve the best friends, but I already have the best boyfriend, don’t I?” You pointed out. His cheeks flushed a bit, but only briefly.

You chuckled at his reaction, pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Toya. You’re the only person I ever want to know. Well, our other friends as well. But especially you.”

He smiled into your hair. Both of you were really lucky, huh?

You were always quite talented at the arts. Whether it be musical arts, visual arts, or any other type of art, it was guaranteed you would excel. This was what inevitably drew Tsukasa towards you. He found your talent admirable, and aspired to reach your level of skill one day.

Whenever you drew around him, he watched intently, starry eyes following every pencil stroke you made. Whenever you played an instrument near him, he’d drop whatever he was going to listen. It was almost spell-bounding to him.

You of course, appreciated his enthusiasm. But sometimes you wished he’d focus a little less on whatever your doing and focus more on you. You implied this discreetly once in a conversation, and he didn’t realize till later. Once he realized though, he thought it was better to focus on you more anyways.

If Tsukasa is able to pick up on that, shouldn’t anyone else be able to? You wished that was the case

You groaned out in frustration as yet another peer handed you their art assignment to “help” with. They disguised it as help, but in reality they only wanted you to finish it for them, that way they get a better grade. It was… annoying to say the least.

Examining what was left, it seemed possible to get it done before the class ends. You got to work immediately in order to avoid any more pestering later.

As usual, other students gathered over your shoulder. Some were a little too close for comfort, and it was starting to distract you. A lot.

“I’m sorry, but could you please back up a bit? You’re in my personal space and it’s pretty distracting.” You asked as politely as possible.

The male rolled his eyes a bit before backing up. You thought that would be the end of it- you wished that was the end of it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

“What do they mean they’re ‘distracted’? They were doing just fine when I was standing that close. Making a big deal out of nothing… geez.” He spoke up, a little too late after he moved away.

Your wrist stopped, dropping the pencil. ‘What’s his problem?’

“Excuse me?”

Anyone who wasn’t looking before was definitely looking now. The room went dead quiet after hearing the malice in your voice. Others near you backed away, while some got a bit closer to hear better.

“You didn’t hear me the first time? I said you’re making a big deal out of nothing. You were doing just fine. Was all that attention not enough for you? You wanted more? Well you definitely got it now.” He laughed at bit after that last remark, pissing you off even more.

“I heard you loud and clear the first time. Just wanted to see if you had the guts to repeat it is all.”

“Oh yeah? And what were you going to do if I didn’t?”

You abruptly stood up, getting more and more irritated with every second that passed. The look on this guy’s face was enough to frustrate you alone, his words were just additions to that.

You were toe to toe with him now. Your other classmates were finally backing away now, but the only one who didn’t stayed toe to toe with you.

“Cute, you’re just gonna stand there?” He mocked.

Clenching your fist as tight as ever, you raised it. The punch was swift, but it felt like a stab in the stomach to him.

“(Full Name). Office, now.” Apparently in the midst of everything, someone went off to get a teacher before it could escalate to… that. While they were a little late, it definitely prevented it from escalating further.

You walked to the office with the teacher, holding your head down in shame. It felt like all eyes were on you, and everything sounded so quiet. The only good thing to come out of this was getting sent home early.

You got let off with a 2 day suspension, while the one who provoked you only got a detention. It pissed you off reasonably, but there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Because he didn’t attack first or even attack at all, you were seen as the problem.

“…and that’s how my day went. Sorry Tsukasa, I won’t see you around school for a few days.” You finished telling your boyfriend all the events that occurred today, and why someone told him to ��get his partner in check.’

He sat in front of you dumbfounded. For a moment, he felt all the rage you felt when everything was happening. He was almost as pissed off as you were at the detention punishment as well.

“But you were being harassed! It wasn’t physical, but who knew if that guy was going to throw a punch first. You were only sticking up for yourself!” He exclaimed. You sighed, muttering an “I know” under your breath.

He huffed, crossing his arms to express his seriousness right now.

“Well… I don’t think you did anything wrong. Shouldn’t the girl who made you finish her art project be blamed for all this? If she never gave it to you then this all could have been avoided!”

“I thought about that, but she wasn’t even in the room when all this happened. And it still comes back to me for doing her project anyways.”

Tsukasa sensed your frustration. He tried to calm himself down to avoid adding onto it, but it was still in the back of his mind.

“The only way any of this could have been avoided is if I sucked at art.” You bluntly said. Tsukasa turned his head, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Why would you want to suck at art though?” He asked.

“It’d keep people away from me, make them stop seeing me as a homework machine or something. I don’t like the kind of attention it gives me.”

He tried to understand where you were coming from, but it was difficult. He loves the attention being a self proclaimed star gets him, and would never want to give his title up. But you were the complete opposite.

Still, even if he didn’t understand, he’d try his best.

“I think… I think what you do is amazing (Name). But I don’t think it’s amazing that people use you for your talent, and I find it even less amazing how it deteriorates your self esteem.” He tried to keep his voice as soft as possible.

“Thank you, Tsukasa. I just… I just wish things went a little differently for me, that’s all.”

He could understand that this time. Sometimes he wished things went differently for him as well, but that thought was buried in the back of his mind with all the others.

He took your hand in his, reassuring you he wasn’t going anywhere. He swore he’d always see you as who you were as a person before your talents.

And it worked. The built up anger finally dying down.

Your scientific mind never went unnoticed by Rui. How could it be? Not only was it a trait he found quite attractive, but it was also what lead to your relationship with each other.

Not a day went by where he didn’t appreciate your love for all things science related. You’d frequently ask him questions about his own inventions, even offering help with a handful of them. The ones you assisted him with felt more important than any other inventions he had.

You were placed in the highest science courses available. Chemistry, physics, biology, you were somehow taking all of them at once. The school saw you as some sort of “prodigy” and wanted to push you as best as they possibly could. Which certainly worked! But…

Some students weren’t as welcoming as others. Not everyone thought your vast knowledge in science was normal, some even considered it ‘unhealthy.’ You tried your best to ignore them, but it’s hard to ignore something that’s right in front of you.

With chemistry involving, well, chemicals, your class was often in a lab room during the period. The professor enjoyed being unpredictable, so you never knew what to expect walking into the room. But you wouldn’t have thought he’d try something so… inconsiderate.

The first thing you noticed was a chart projected on the board, the second thing you notice is that it’s a seating chart. Any groups from earlier in the year were changed into random clusters. Some were excited for this change, while others, including yourself, groaned out in frustration.

Because of course, you just had to have the worst group.

Two members of the table seemed to be familiar with each other already, giggling amongst themselves. The third person looked completely out of it, not appearing to be paying attention to anything going on around him. You were already feeling like the odd one out here.

“Oh look, we have (Name) in our group! This class should be much easier now.” One of the girls said.

You looked at her for a moment, averting your guys to other next to her. She seemed to find what her friend said amusing, you could tell what was going on already.

“(Name) did I ever tell you how gorgeous your eyes are? Does wearing those… science goggles make your eyes look prettier?” Her smile seemed as fake as her lashes, but for now you just had to stay civil…

You tune the rest of the room out to focus on the assignment handed to you. All you had to do was write a few equations and answer some questions… nothing too bad. If you finish early, you can probably get out of this class sooner.

Your focus was disrupted by obnoxious tapping on the table.

“Can you give me the answers when you’re done?” Your group-mate asked. It took every ounce of self control to avoid rolling your eyes and turning away, instead you pretended you never heard her.

“Hello? Anyone there? Earth to (Name)~!” She said in a sing song voice. Still, as long as you pretend you never heard it…

“God, can they be anymore rude? They think they’re the shit just cause they’re in all these science courses. Just grow up already!” At that point she knew you were listening, and was resorting to shit talk to get your attention.

Unfortunately that was what grabbed your attention. Peering up at the girl with a look of annoyance, she giggled again.

“Looks like someone can hear after all!”

“Fuck off.” You replied. Stuffing your paper into your bag, you asked the teacher if you could see the nurse, to which he agreed. You couldn’t stand that table already, and you have to do that for a whole semester? Hell no.

Some students were already on their free period or lunch, so the hallways were a bit crowded, but not terribly. Thankfully it made it much easier to spot a tall purple haired male nearby.

“Rui, there you are.” You said while practically running up to him.

“Well, if it isn’t dear (Name), shouldn’t you be in..” You cut him off.

“Chemistry? Yeah. I got out to ‘go to the nurse’ but I really just wanted to cut the rest of the class. We got new groups today- mine is the worst.”

“I see…” he replied.

It was clear you were unhappy with these new seats, but there wasn’t much you could do about them. Rui acknowledged this, and tried to come up with quick solutions on the spot. Though he could tell you about them later. Right now, you just need a shoulder to lean on it seems. Literally and figuratively.

You sighed into his shoulder as he played with you hair. It felt more private in this part of the school, so there was less shame in the PDA. Besides, it at least looked normal compared to other couples.

“I hate science.” You said.

“Excuse me?”

Maybe you could have phrased that better… but part of you meant that as well.

“I just hate how everyone treats me because of science, it’s not fair. I’m just ahead of everyone else and have a passion, why is that such a problem?” You continued.

Rui knew exactly what you meant. He spent years being outcasted for being a weirdo, primarily about science. It was easy to sympathize with you.

“I know what you mean… but at the end of the day, who’ll be the one wearing a cool looking lab coat ten years from now? Definitely not them.” He joked, trying to lighten your mood a bit before class starts again. If anyone else had said that you’d have just rolled your eyes. But because it was Rui, you couldn’t help but chuckle.

You punched his shoulder lightly, making him chuckle. ‘Your spirits have been lifted up’ he thought.

“Just what would I do without you Rui…”

“Not thinking of yourself in a lab coat standing over everyone else, that’s for sure.” He replied.

Feeling better, you leaped up and stretched your arms out. Rui following suit, just a bit lazier. He handed you your bag and you thanked him.

“Mind walking me to my next class?” You asked.

“I’ll never mind doing anything for you. And… that’s our class, I’m in it as well.” He remarked teasingly. He sits right in front of you in that class, but you just wanted to see what he’d say.

“Right right, now let’s go before I accidentally drop a fire cracker here…”

You two were really made for each other, huh?

435 notes · View notes

gavisuntiedboot · 1 year

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Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 1

Tinder is not a great place to look for boyfriends, but neither is the workplace.

Gavi x Physiotherapist! reader. Slow burn. I can't make things fast he's gotta work for it. Smut? Not in this part but maybe eventually.

A/N: Hi everyone! Not super new on Tumblr but I have never been brave enough to post a fic despite my constant maladaptive daydreaming about imaginary scenarios. The stress of being sick and not wanting to write my personal statement have lead me to actually write this and post it online. Please be nice, hope you enjoy!

Song inspo: Just Pretend - Bad omens

Writing inspo: Plot inspired by @zeegaazeegaah and their amazing Gavi x physiotherapist imagine. Other inspirational accounts will be tagged at the end.

TW: None

Word count: 4.8K

"So what do you do?"

y/n hated this question. Even being asked for nudes might be preferable to being asked about her job. y/n had been on 12 first dates since moving back to Barcelona, and without fail every one of them had been ruined by this simple question. She considered lying - she could pass as a student or a waitress or even a model (ok maybe not a model): there were literally thousands of jobs she could pretend to have. But, being the idiot hopeless romantic that she was, she decided to be honest with the man across from her. What if Thiago from Tinder was her soulmate? She didn't want to ruin it by lying.

"I'm finishing my sports medicine and physiotherapy certification, so I am working with one of the football clubs here to do practical training and gain experience."

"Oh that's cool! Which club? You can tell me, I know most of the 3rd and 4th tier Catalan clubs, so I'll probably know it even if it's really small."

Wow. Thiago from Tinder was an overachiever: he messed up before she even said which club she worked for, which was faster than every other man she had been out with in the last four months. y/n took a deep breath and resisted the urge to leave before confessing where she worked.

"I actually work at a pretty well known club... F.C Barca. I think you might of heard of it?" y/n watched this man's jaw visibly drop. His eyes got wide and lit up, like someone had told him he had just won a brand new car.

"You're a physio at Barca?? No way! That's my team! I think I would actually commit manslaughter if Pedri asked me to. So you get to see all the players every day? And Xavi! Have you ever spoken to Xavi? Do you know he won Spain their first world cup? You might be too young to remember. That's so amazing!"

y/n felt all the muscles in her head tense as she focused all her energy on not rolling her eyes. A fanboy. Typical. This was the most common response she got when she said her place of work out loud. 6 of the last 12 first dates had been major fanboys for the club, talking endlessly about how they would steal and kill and get on their knees for Barca. One had even been so bold as to ask if she had ever seen Lewandosky naked, to confirm if some measurements he had seen online were true. While the fans were annoying, the haters were even worse. 4 different dates had said they felt bad that she worked at a "dying club", throwing up football statistics, and going red in the face when she said she could not possibly care less about who had more Champion's League wins.

Then there were those that went out of their way to offend her. You would think that a man trying to get laid would have some more common sense. But that didn't stop one of her tinder matches from calling her a liar in the middle of a restaurant. He was still on his first glass of wine, leaning back cockily in his chair when he said that La Liga would never allow female physios to work with the first team because women couldn't "handle the intensity of football injuries." She should have gotten up and left when he said that, but he was 6'3 with a brand new Porsche, so she let him buy her dinner and drive her home before telling him that she genuinely hoped he never interacted with a female doctor ever again, even if it was to save his life.

The worst had been when she went out with Jose. He had invited her to a pretty expensive spot in central Barcelona. They were having an amazing conversation until the fated job question. She had downed a good amount of wine at that point, and wasn't as cynical about the reaction as she usually would be, so she spoke about her role with pride. Big mistake. He perked up, then threw his head back and laughed. He laughed so loudly it startled the waiter clearing plates from the nearby table. "21 years old and working as a physio for F.C Barca... Who did you have to sleep with to get that job, hm? Xavi? La Porte himself? Or maybe someone at the university? Regardless, you must fuck like a pornstar to have landed a job like that. Can't wait to try it first hand." y/n said some choice words about Jose and his micropenis, and promptly left, seeking to avoid assault charges that night.

The truth was that y/n was extremely talented at what she did. She grew up watching football with her father and brother, developing an interest in working in sports professionally. She worked herself half to death during high school to be accepted into a sports science program in the U.S. She interned with the college teams there, learning about sports injuries and treating them. She finished her program in three years, and despite programs across Europe fighting for her, she came back to Barcelona to finish her physiotherapy certification. She would be lying if she said it was just for her family and friends. The program in Barcelona advertised opportunities to work with F.C. Barca, her favorite football club since birth. It was a love she inherited from her father, as shown by all her childhood pictures in the Blaugrana uniform.

The program was harder than expected. She was one of 7 female first year students, and the only girl in her year that wanted to work with the first team. y/n was made aware that this might work to her advantage now that professional football was pushing for more female representation (in referees, coaching staff, and now on the medical team). The guys in her class either hated her guts or wanted to sleep with her (sometimes both) - it really was like legally blonde without the law.

In the middle of August, close to the beginning of the new season, all the applicants for the Barca placement were called into the university on a Sunday. Their professor introduced Dr. Gonzales, the head physiotherapist for the club. y/n started to sweat despite the air conditioning hitting her directly. She was terrified to even breathe wrong in the presence of this man.

"It's a pleasure to be here with you all today. Thank you for your hard work in submitting to fill the assistant physiotherapist position at F.C. Barcelona. Now, there have been rumors that we are hiring a student to fil this position because it is cheaper and we are broke, but I would like to assure you all now that it's not true."

The two boys in front of her snickered quietly, one whispering a "yeah right" to the other. Dr. Gonzalez looked up at the boys. "You two giggling in the back. You don't seem like the type we need at Camp Nou. You can leave now." Everyone in the room sat up straighter after that. Everyone was on military behavior, not wanting a wrong look or a chair squeak to blow their chance. "As many of you know, one of our strikers, Ousmane Dembélé, presents with consistent right hamstring tightness, leading to frequent injuries."

As Dr. Gonzalez turned to face the screen, y/n found enough bravery to pull out a pen and paper to take notes. The doctor continued to describe the player's condition, his playing style, and the current course of treatment being used. After speaking for 25 minutes (while facing the screen instead of the students), he turned around and addressed them. "Your project is to develop a continuous muscular therapy treatment for Dembélé in the next two days. The best and most cost effective method gets the job placement. You at the back," he pointed at y/n, "Smart choice to take notes. I advise you not to share."

Y/n drove home that evening checking her rear-view mirror every few seconds. The possibility of being followed by one of her classmates so they could steal her notes was low, but never zero, and so she did both of the locks tightly on the door. She sat at her computer and got to work right away. Truth be told, she felt like the whole assignment was kind of a trick. Dr. Gonzalez had told them the current treatment plan for Dembélé, which had obviously been working seeing as they kept using it. She made a few adjustments based on leg dominance and the anticipated excess strain of playing more minutes each game, and then she decided to facetime her friend Angelika while she made the PowerPoint look pretty.

"Good evening Dr. y/l/n, finally ready to ask for my hand in marriage? My parents always wanted me to marry into medicine." y/n rolled her eyes and smirked. She had met Angelika when she was living in the US through a Facebook group for Spanish students studying abroad. Ever since then, not a day had gone by where they hadn't spoken (except once when Angelika had dropped her phone into a pint of beer and couldn't get it fixed for three days).

"You know I'm ready when you are gorgeous, just send your ring size. What're you up to?"

"Nothing much, just scrolling on the internet trying to find clubs that are no cover for ladies tomorrow. You're still coming out with us right?" y/n looked away from her computer and looked at Angelika with the "I'm about to bail on plans look" that was all too familiar. "Y/n!! You cannot be cancelling plans with us again! You haven't been anywhere except your house and the university in like six weeks! People will start to think you're with child and in hiding."

"I didn't know I was the new virgin Mary." y/n quipped, trying to make her presentation equally professional and cute. "You're not, because that would require you being a virgin. I know it feels like it's growing back because you haven't looked in the direction of a man in centuries." y/n could only shake her head. It was not a lack of trying. "Well, I'm presenting to the Barca head physio Wednesday morning, so if you ever want a chance at seeing the inside of that locker room, you need to let me skip out on tomorrow."

Angelika sighed and threw herself on the bed dramatically. "Fine, but you need to be our DD and come pick us up after. Shockingly, it's really hard to order an Uber while drunk." y/n agreed to pick the girls up from the club at the end of the night, an spent the rest of the evening chatting idlily with her friend, living vicariously through the stories she told.

The following day, y/n spent all morning refining her presentation. She spent over an hour watching videos about the Barca training facility to see if there was any equipment she had overlooked in creating her treatment plan. The day progressed as normal - cleaning, cooking, practicing her presentation, watching TV on the couch. As 1am rolled around, she still hadn't received any communication from Angelika. While she was not an inconsiderate person, Angelika did have her moments where she would completely forget about the world around her: that was when she met a man who showed interest in her. Despite being gorgeous and intelligent, Angelika, like most girls in their early twenties, suffered from a condition known as "Nothing is true about me unless an attractive man says it". y/n also suffered (mildly) from this affliction, but being surrounded by weirdos all day in university had helped substantially. She knew that if she did not leave then, she would never get any sleep, and so she grabbed her car keys and headed to the address of the club that she had been sent earlier on.

She parked several blocks away from the club, and called Angelika for a record 41st time. y/n knew she wasn't going to receive an answer, so she changed into a tight satin top and a pair of heels that she always left in her car in case of emergencies (What if Joao Felix decided to take a random trip to Barcelona and she was unprepared?). She could feel the street practically vibrating beneath her as she walked towards the club. She was let in easily - it was a Tuesday night and the establishment needed female patrons. She kept close to the bar, and asked the girls working there if they had seen her friend. Once y/n pulled up a picture of Angelika, the girls laughed to one another.

"Oh yeah, she's up in the VIP section. They've dropped like 6k on bottle service already."

y/n felt the vein in her forehead start to pop out. Of course Angelika had found herself a man that would take her to the part of the club that was the hardest to get into. Especially on the night when y/n really needed to get home. Because why wouldn't that happen? She made her way over to the VIP section, where she was promptly stopped by two large bouncers, who obviously didn't believe that she just wanted to grab her friend. While standing there deciding whether she should just make Angelika order an Uber (or have this new lover order one for her), she was tapped on the shoulder. She turned around and was met by a very attractive man (boy? His age was hard to determine in the dark).

"Hey, do you need to get into VIP? Are you here alone? " "That's a really creepy question to ask a girl in a club." y/n yelled back over the thumping music. What were all these people doing out on a Tuesday? "No not like that. I can help you get in if you want." "I don't really want to get in, I just want to get my friend and leave." The man (boy?)'s eyes lit up. "Perfect! My tea- friend. My friend that I'm with is pretty drunk and the person that drove us is in VIP. I can't leave him by himself because he's kind of rowdy even when sober. Could you watch him while I go grab them?"

y/n didn't want to look too deeply into a good thing, but the offer felt suspicious. She scanned the boy (she had decided that he was young), looking for any indication that he could live up to his end of the bargain. She looked down at his feet, noticing the white Alexander McQueen sneakers. She decided that she could trust him, and if not, she was still in a public place, and someone would notice if she was being dragged out of a club kicking and screaming. She walked over to where the friend was and had to stifle a laugh. Another boy was sprawled across two high bar chairs, legs up and head rolled back. He was wearing a pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses despite it being the middle of the night and them being indoors. His white button up had the first two undone and the collar popped, like he was Pitbull in 2011. He was in a pair skinny jeans (because, as y/n discovered quickly, everyone in the world had moved on from skinny jeans except for Spanish men) and some white Dolce and Gabanna sneakers. Where were these kids getting all this money?

"Pablo! Look who I brought you! This is..." The first boy looked back at you expectantly. "y/n". "y/n! She's really great and going to take care of you while I go get Pepi so we can go home." The drunk one (now Identified as Pablo) lifted his head, and tilted the sunglasses just enough to get a good look at the girl. "Wow Angel, nice job." The first one (Angel apparently) apologized to y/n, explaining that Pablo was a "really flirty drunk" but that he was never like this sober. y/n showed Angel a picture of Angelika, and off he went back into the beast that was the club. y/n stood awkwardly by Pablo, who appeared to have fallen asleep. Suddenly, he sprung up and asked her, "so what is a pretty girl like you doing in the club by herself?"

"I'm not here to go clubbing, just picking up a friend." "You're dressed like you're going clubbing." "Right, because they wouldn't let me into the club in my scrubs." "Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." The music was starting to take a toll on y/n, the thumping rhythm giving her a splitting headache. "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises." Pablo did not take this comment well. He stood up, feeling all the blood rush to his head as he rested his weight against the bar. He pushed his glasses up his head, and looked straight at her.

This was the first opportunity y/n had to admire how gorgeous Pablo was. The glasses pushed his hair back on his head, showing off his striking eyebrows and cheekbones. His eyes were wide and glassy, making him look like a teenager who had gotten drunk for the first time. For all y/n knew, that could be the case. His nose slopped downward, a subtle bump in the bridge like it had been broken before and reset. His discontent made his bottom lip poke out, and y/n suddenly was overwhelmed by the urge to treat him like a child: make him feel better with a kiss. "I'm 18, and this isn't even my first time in a club. You want to see my ID?" Pablo had gotten much closer to her than she had expected. In her 4 inch heels, y/n was looking him straight in the eyes. He was mere inches away from her face, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the anger of being called a child. She couldn't stop her gaze from flipping between his eyes to his pouting lips. 'This is normal,' she thought to herself. 'I'm overwhelmed because no man has been this close to me in a while. Even if my scumbag cheating ex was standing this close I would want to kiss him. I am simply in desperate need of affection.'

This internal monologue ended just as another club patron bumped into Pablo, causing him to lose balance. He put his arms around y/n and rested weight against her, head pressed into her shoulder. "I feel like dying. I shouldn't have drank that much." He muttered. She just held him there, scared that he would hit the floor if she shifted. "Then why did you keep drinking?" She asked. It couldn't hurt - in the state he was in, she would be surprised if he even remembered his name in the morning. "So my brain would be a little quieter." y/n's heart ached at the statement. However old the boy in her arms was, he was being burdened by something far beyond his age.

Before she could ask anything else, she was tapped on the shoulder by Angel, who signaled for her to follow out of the club. She put one of Pablo's arms around her neck and began shuffling through the crowd. Once they left the club, Pablo quickly separated from her to throw up on the side of the street. "At least he waited until he was off of you to do that," a male voice echoed from behind her. y/n turned around to see Angelika clinging to a tall brunet. "Thank you so much for carrying her out. I think I can take it from here." y/n said, trying to get Angelika to remove herself from the nice man. "It's ok, I can walk her to your car. It might be easier than you carrying her." y/n smiled apologetically, and turned around to the sound of Pablo continuing to wretch his guts out. She ran over to make sure he wasn't puking blood and didn't need medical attention. "Come on Pablo let's go." Angel said from the curb. "No no, don't rush him. Let him get it all out before he gets into my car. Otherwise he'll have to start taking the city bus to matches." y/n looked up at the new voice. He walked up and stood by Angel, glancing at his phone before looking up at his friend and the girl making sure he didn't die. "Thanks for looking after him. I hope he wasn't too bad, he's a tag aggressive." y/n stood there speechless. The man thanking her for taking care of his drunk friend was none other than Pedri Gonzalez, one of the young stars of F.C. Barca. He was an absolute magician with the ball, and quickly becoming a favorite in y/n's household. She wanted to let out a scream: jump up and down and tell him that she was a huge fan and ask for a picture. But she had her presentation tomorrow. The last thing she needed was to make a bad impression on the player by causing a scene. So she took a deep breath and insisted that it was no problem.

Pablo had finished puking out his guts by that point and stood up straight, gripping his head from the dizziness. "Alright hermano, time to go." Pedri said, turning his back to y/n, Angelika, and the main carrying her. "Wait." Pablo said rummaging through his pocket. He pulled out his wallet, and clumsily pulled a card from it. He turned to y/n and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close to him. There were shouts from his friends to stop whatever he was doing, but nothing was registering in his liquor-filled brain. "y/n think's I'm a little kid, so I just wanted to show her my ID." y/n shifted her gaze from his deep eyes to the card in his hand. She didn't look at the age. She didn't have to. Her eyes landed on the name: Pablo Martín Páez Gavira. One of the best young football players in the world had just used her as a banister. "Now that you know I'm not a kid, next time, you should let me buy you a drink." Pablo said, pushing a strand of hair from y/n's face before walking (wobbling) back to his friends.

y/n could not process everything going on in her head at that moment. She turned around and faced the man holding a half-asleep Angelika. "You don't play for Barca do you?" She asked, half joking and half fearful. "No. I play for Real Sociedad. I'm Martin." "Zubimendi??" "Yeah." This was too much. y/n, 7 hours before the most important presentation of her life, was surrounded by so much football royalty it made her dizzy. Martin looked like he was going to say something else, but y/n put her finger to her lips and shushed him. "Please, not another word. Just bring her to the car."

They walked silently to y/n's tiny car, Martin helping to carefully place Angelika in the back seat. "So are you the guy she was with while ignoring my calls?" "Oh no, that was my teammate Ander. He was also kind of out of it so I offered to help her out." "Why is everyone getting drunk out of their minds on a random Tuesday in August?" y/n said in frustration, causing a laugh to erupt from Martin. "It's the last week before training for the new season starts. Not a lot of opportunities to black out after this. People like to take advantage." y/n thanked Martin and got into the driver's seat. He stopped her before she drove off. "Do you think I could maybe get your number? Just to make sure you get home safe?" y/n rolled her eyes at the lame excuse for a pick-up tactic, but surrendered her phone number anyway. She drove back to her apartment with her head reeling, as she tried to rehearse her speech in her head instead of thinking of the events of the night.

The next day, y/n looked perfect. She had work her best school-approved scrubs and coat. and slicked her hair back to make her look more professional. She was in her business attire Nikes. Her note cards were neatly written and organized. She sat in the lecture hall waiting to be called on. The students would be presenting in random order. As all the student filled in to present, the tension was palpable. Everyone side-eyed each other, trying to intimidate the "competition". The door swung open and in walked the professor, as well as Dr. Gonzalez. He stood at the front podium, stern as ever, and began to speak.

"Good morning students. Thank you all for the effort you have put into the presentations you will share today. We look forward to all you assessments and insights. As the new season quickly approaches, we want the new assistant to become acclimated to the workplace quickly. Therefore, the decision about the position will be made today following the presentation." The entire room stopped breathing. "In order to do so efficiently, please welcome our other guests and evaluators, Mr. Xavi Hernandez and Mr. Ousmane Dembélé." The pair walked in, and the room engaged in the most "I wish I was dead" sounding clapping known to man. y/n started sweating profusely. If she had known that Xavi and Dembélé were going to be watching her presentation, she would have made Angelika take the Uber. Hell, she would have made her ride a Donkey back home and gotten a full night's sleep.

Dr. Gonzalez drew names for the order, and because y/n has the worst luck, she was presenting last. She did what she does best: panicked immediately. She tried to think of ways to present the information differently than the 6 students before her had. As she listened to the presentations, the more nervous she got. None of the other students had treatment plans remotely similar to hers. Antonio, one of the smartest in their batch and the presenter right before her, even suggested he get surgery.

It was time. y/n stood up at the front of the room and pulled out her slides. "Good morning everyone. Today I will be presenting my comprehensive treatment plan for player Ousmane Dembélé's right hamstring." She got through the whole thing without stuttering or having her knees give out. As she finished her last slide, she let out a sigh of relief. The hard part was over. She asked if their were questions and Xavi's hand went up. "So Miss y/n, the treatment plan presented is very similar to the one we have currently implemented, with a couple changes in training and every day life. What is the anticipated recovery time for this treatment?" Everyone else in the class had said 8-12 months. But no - of course y/n had to be differently. "6 weeks sir." "6 weeks? No one else has given a suggestion that would take less than half a year." "Yes sir, however, if you take into account the availability of daily therapy, cryotherapy, and the current play style and strain distribution, he can be on the field in 6 weeks. He might not be comfortable playing all 90 minutes each game, but that's not the same as being completely out for injury." Xavi nodded and said nothing more. That was the end of the questioning.

It took them 8 minutes exactly to decide who go the job. Dr. Gonzalez, Xavi, and Dembélé came back into the room, thanking everyone again for their hard work. "We are please to announce," Xavi started, "that we will be offering the assistant physiotherapist position for the 2022/2023 season to," he turned to Dembélé, who finished the thought, "Miss y/n y/l/n." All the men in the room turned to face y/n at once as she struggled to breathe from the shock. "We look forward to having you this season."

And that's how it happened. y/n was now the assistant physiotherapist for the first team at F.C. Barcelona during the day, and entertainment for the absolute worst men in Spain in the evenings. She left her disappointing first date with a headache and leftovers, and drove home listening to her "Maybe Love is a Social Construct" playlist. As she walked into her apartment, her phone chimed with a text notification. She let her hair down and grabbed her phone, preparing to update Angelika about the latest in the tragedy that was her love life. Instead, she had two separate text notifications.

[Unknown number]: Hey, is this still y/n's number?

[Gavi]: I need to see you urgently. Tomorrow morning 6:30 am. I'll be waiting outside your office.

To be continued...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you got this far, thanks for reading! I have had this idea for a long time and have been writing snippets of it down. I will continue to update whenever I can, as this really is a passion project for me (so it's ok if no one reads it).

GIF credit to @gavidaily

Huge thanks to the following for heavily inspiring me to start writing this on the internet: @missgavi @kyiiansmbappe @julianalvarez9 @milawritesstuff @leeamorgan (there are a couple others I'm forgetting)

#pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #pablo gavi #gavi #fc barca #footballer #imagine #barca #gavi x you #footballer imagine

732 notes · View notes

doromoni · 9 months

Text

Hunting Affections

Charles Leclerc x photographer! reader

Max Verstappen x photographer! reader

Part 2.

fanfic + smau fic

y/n faceclaim : Hwang Eunbi

warning : angst , mild swearing

A/N : UP FOR EDITING 🤍

Summary; Love is but a concept — just connections of neurons that take part in the brain … and yet, why is it the most painful when one falls alone?

Loving someone who doesn’t love you back , until you can’t no more. Maybe then they’ll actually know what they’ve lost.

(Conversations are in bold)

It’s been three years since we’ve officially met, 1095 days since I first took a photo of you — your eyes were shining, cheeks red from the heat of the weather and the engine of the car you were driving. Your face was glowing when you held out your hand and introduced yourself to me, then asking if I was the intern that your pr manager talked about. To this day, I still remember your laugh after I had failed to introduce myself with coherence since I kept choking on my words.

“H-hello Mr. Leclerc , I’m Y/N . May I take your camera with my picture?” Blood rushed to my cheeks , when what I said started to sink in.

Panicked, words just continued to come out of my mouth.“I MEAN CAN I PICTURE YOUR CAMERA?— No! Uhm , The car can I take a photo? with you? that doesn’t makes sense either.. i’ll just shut up” cursing myself as i felt my palms starting to sweat and the dress I’ve had on was growing tighter.

You stared at me for a solid 3 seconds , then you bursted out laughing — a full on belly ache inducing laugh with hands on your knees as tears streamed your cheeks . Seeing you laugh with such intensity , made me laugh to the same degree . People had started giving us odd glances , yet you did not care and now our faces are red for a whole entire reason.

Wiping the remaining tears with the back of your hand , laughter now turning into soft chuckles— “ Don’t worry , I sometimes lose my English too! And please just call me Charles” you then gave me your smile. A smile that I would come to realize that I should’ve treasured more.

We clicked in an instant , I could honestly say that it was frightening how fast we grew closer to each other. We shared so many memories together and I took each moment with a photo. I met your mom, she was so lovely .Then I met your brothers , they said they loved me more than they do you . You then took me to your own special place , a place hidden within your hometown. We were supposed to be at a company event to celebrate you and your teammate’s win — instead you sneaked us out and went to the secluded beach with the most gorgeous of sceneries a person with my passion could ever encounter. We did nothing but gaze at the stars , fingers intertwined, declaring our promises to the wind.

I grew fonder of you with every second that we spent together. At times like those, you where not my boss and I was not your employee — we were just 2 people getting away from the life of fame and glamour. We were content. We were happy, until we weren’t.

Our moments became fewer, but I understood that you were busy. You were starting to grow distant, yes, I had noticed. I asked if you were alright, you just smiled and nodded— yet I saw your eyes no longer holding the shine it once had. Your mom called, she asked if I was alright and that she and your brothers missed me at dinner last night. I lied to your mom and said that I was sick, she said that she’ll tell you to invite me again for the next family dinner … I didn’t receive an invite. I tried not to overthink , I thought that you just forgot, but your mom called again and then another time . Twice is a coincidence, Thrice is a pattern.

Maybe I was overstepping my boundaries, so I gave you space, we weren’t even dating … are we? I don’t even know. A week of space flew by , you were knocking at my door again with a smile and flowers at hand. I thought that we were ok , I had hope . But then another week came — we were at work, I gave you a smile but you didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

Now it’s a game of push and pull . Where it is always I who pulls and you who pushes. What happened to us? I cannot honestly say — only you have the answer, yet you wont even try.

Sports Hub Daily ————

Formula 1 Driver Charles Leclerc Spotted Looking Very Cozy with an Unknown Brunette

Article by : Millie Born

Charles Leclerc , a driver for the renowned Formula 1 racing team Ferrari, was spotted at looking quite close and cozy with an unknown woman during the PGA Tour yesterday afternoon. The two were reported to be sharing a number of intimate actions amongst themselves all throughout the game and was seen to be leaving together inside Leclerc’s Black Ferrari Pista. Just who is this woman— fans are eager to find more! Is she the new girlfriend of the Monegasque driver? Will the paddock be welcoming a new “Wag” to the roster?, or is this just a fling to the “Il Predestinato” of Ferrari… Only time will tell.

navi.exe

comments are disabled

y/n_stills.

Liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, lewishamilton, and 383,560 others

y/n_stills. You’ve saved the day. My personal hero 💙

lewishamilton Happy to see you well taken cared of. Miss you, kiddo!

y/n_stills. aww miss you Lew!! , I’ll drop by the merc motorhome next GP and hug you till you get annoyed🥰

georgerussell63 what about me? @y/n_stills.

y/n_stills. and what about you Russell George? @georgerussell63

lewishamilton kids play nice.

y/n_stills. sorry pops.

maxvertappen1 Always 💙

liked by y/n_stills.

kimimatiasraikkonen who?

y/n_stills. Bwoah, hi Kimi!! I missed you. I’ll call Minttu and I’ll tell ya both🫶

lilymhe wow, I just finished a tournament only to find out that I’ve already lost you?!

alexalbon excuse me?

y/n_stills. @lilymhe NO! MY LOVE , forgive me I’m only yours forever! Oh, Hi @alexalbon … what are you doing here?

danielricciardo I didn’t receive my invitation? very disappointed 1/5 stars, will not recommend.

landonorris same experience , will also rate 1/5.

y/n_stills. What kind of substance are you two on? Send me the link, looks fun. 5/5 is interested

maxverstappen1 they’re high on mclaren tractor fumes. I do not recommend @y/n_stills.

y/n_stills. Sheeesh Emilian ya didn’t have to roast them too hard 🫣

landonorris @maxverstappen1 WOW��true, but wow.

danielricciardo this is not the proper way of treating your bestfriends @maxverstappen1 . 1/5 star friend.

arthur_leclerc @y/n_stills. Dinner soon! We miss you >:((

ollibearman yeah! @y/nstills. >:((

y/n_stills. alright chill you goblins! Give me the time and date.

Comments on this post has been limited

“What the hell?”

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #red bull racing #ferrari #formula one #lewis hamilton #lando norris #charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #kimi raikkonen #alex albon #mercedes #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #mclaren #x reader #sendhelpppppp

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highwayorgantrade · 1 year

Text

Baptized By Fire (I)

Pairing: Ghost x (F)Reader

Request: Nope :)

Story Summary: Reader loses themselves to the mission - Ghost brings them back.

Chapter Summary: On your first specialized mission with Ghost and Soap, you were praying for everything to go right. Whether the idea was a sick joke or naivety, you did what you had to do to survive. Unfortunately, all actions have consequences.

Word Count: 2.8k

Song/Playlist:

Author's Note: Reader's callsign is Corpse! I got the idea for this fic by some ad I saw with these really cool titanium fangs, so I saw that and I was like yo lemme steal that rq so yeah I imagine reader having those but I don't really think it's necessary to the story! This is gonna be my first multi-chapter thing so I hope I can get everyone hooked bc LORRRDDDD the amount of stuff I have planned for this!

"When did intel say this guy was going to show up?" Soap grunted next to you, his rough voice teetering on the edge of being whiny. You knew the answer, everyone did. Three hours ago, a truck loaded with international weapons smugglers should have pulled outside of the house that you were sheltered in. The town had seen its last inhabitant months ago, right when this group began using it as a trading post. You were supposed to be in exfil by... Now, actually.

Ghost had parked himself in a barely-lit corner of the room, leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed. You wondered, every so often, if he was actually asleep, but when he ran through the motions of checking his gun, you were reminded of exactly who he was. Ghost would never fall asleep on a mission, no matter how late it was running.

"I'm going up to the second floor." You finally sighed. "Gonna see if I can scope anything out." You used to opportunity to stretch your legs - you had stayed crouched for so long, and the cold simply was not helping. And the longer you were in the presence of Ghost, the more your mind ran wild, and the overwhelming desire to impress him got worse and worse as time went on. Soap said nothing, and Ghost simply nodded at you.

Well, good enough.

The stairs were old, and it felt like they were screaming your presence when they creaked under your footsteps. As you walked past, the memories that this house once held were clear at every footstep. Picture frames of the family, forgotten behind, had dust collecting on the frames, and various pieces of artwork littered the walls, varying from classic Kahlo to children's messy fingerpainting. You pushed the door to each room open, trying to buy time by yourself. Each room was more or less the same - dresser, bed, window. Maybe a tapestry here and there.

You kneeled in front of a large, busted out window at the end of the hall, pulling binoculars out of your bag, and settling in. You held the binoculars up and sighed. Still the same landscape you've been staring at for the past three hours. The same faded market signs, dead outdoor plants and... Different SUV. You don't remember that being there, parked in an alleyway between two businesses. The windows were tinted dark, almost completely blacked out, so the hope of seeing anything inside was dashed.

The low, hushed voices of Soap and Ghost downstairs met your ears. You should tell them about the car. See something, say something, right? Part of you slightly resented the connection they had, but they've been working together for years. Countless missions and days together. These were your early days in Task Force 141, and this was your third mission with them. First mission using a specialized group like this, which is exactly why is was extra important that you didn't fuck up.

An uneasy feeling locked in your chest, and you stood, electing to rejoin the two of them. You shouldn't be alone, especially if a fight was about to break out.

"Contact!" Ghost's rough voice cut through the quiet, and almost as if on cue, a pair of gloved hands wrapped around your mouth and torso, setting off every single danger alarm your body had. Your vision darkened from the panic, and your desperate attempt to free yourself was going mostly unnoticed. The small point of pressure in your back told you that the barrel of a gun was pressed into your spine.

"Stop fucking fighting. They're not coming for you." A low, vaguely Eastern European voice growled into your ear before pulling you back into a random room. It was familiar, one of the parent's rooms, you'd assumed.

How did they get in? How the fuck did they get in without you noticing?

The window. The busted out windows in every room of the house. They came around the back entrance, and Ghost and Soap are about to be ambushed. Your eyes widened at the realization, and the man in front you smiled. Your target. This was him. Along with three other men, your outlook did not look good.

Panic clawed its way into your throat, but nonetheless, you made an effort to keep your face as stoic as possible. Your target leaned against the now-shut door of the room, and the sound of gunshots was echoing throughout the house.

"You are the one they call Corpse?" He looked you up and down, and gestured to one of his men. "Take her gun. And the knife. Scream, and I'll kill you and your friends." They followed his direction immediately, and the hand that was once around your mouth was removed. "Do you understand the situation you're in?" He was speaking to you like you were a child, and anger licked at your chest. Yes, obviously you understood the situation. You were trapped, with no chance of fighting, no weapons, and no way to communicate. You felt like a cornered dog, surrounded by people you know would kill you in a heartbeat.

You simply nodded, your teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek so hard, the metallic taste of blood was leaking into your throat.

Your target walked around the room, almost casually, and he smiled at the floor.

"There is a way for you to walk out of this alive, you know." He stopped, his back to the window. "Your force is rather... Mysterious. You come with us, and answer my questions. Any question I have, willingly. You'll be answering either way. The only question is how I'll be able to get you there." He smiled at you, like you two were having a pleasant conversation about world affairs.

The memory of Ghost's voice echoed in your head. "Don't let anyone take you to a second location. No matter what they are promising, they will kill you."

They will kill you. They want to kill you. They will hurt you. They will hurt Ghost and Soap, and who knows who else. You felt like a cornered animal, and all you could hear were gunshots and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You spoke for the first time in a while, and your own voice was unrecognizable to you.

"Fine."

And with that, your vision went black.

"See any more?" Soap's ragged breathing cut through his words, and Ghost's eyes were still trained on the street. Enemy bodies littered the world outside, and his vision was still adjusting to the world outside the scope of his rifle.

"No movement." Ghost finally put his weapon down, slightly grateful that the mission was over so they could all finally go back to base.

"Would've been easier with some fuckin' help." Soap grumbled, and cast a glance up at the stairs where he last saw your retreating back. Ghost didn't take a second thought about you going to scope out the landscape, he knew you were nervous around him, and in his chest, he felt a pang of regret. He could've been nicer to you, talked to you a little bit more, but he simply had no idea how to navigate his feelings around you. You simply showed up to base one day, and that was that for him. At first, he thought you were... Slightly aggravating. How easily you became friends with the Task Force, the sunshine that radiated out of you... He figured that you must not have seen that much war if you were still that damn happy.

It was difficult for Ghost to accept that he was wrong about your skills. At the firing range, in hand to hand combat, in everything, you were just ever-so-slightly better than him, and he tried to let some of his feelings known through the small things, like allowing you to enter a room before him, or simply sitting next to you during debriefings.

A resounding thud pulled him out of his thoughts, and immediately, his head whipped toward the direction, his heart sinking in his chest.

"Corpse, status!" Soap shouted, and his command was only met with silence. Before Ghost could think, he was on his feet and creeping up the stairs silently, his weapon at the ready. Soap followed closely behind, knowing that if Ghost was doing this, it was for damn good reason. A noise echoed through the house, and out onto the street, and both men stopped dead in their tracks. A scream, so guttural, animalistic, and angry pierced the air, and it chilled Ghost to the bone. He had heard a lot of noises during war, but none he heard were like this.

Of all the doors in that hallway, only one was closed, and Ghost nodded toward it. Soap and him stood on opposite sides of the door, and Ghost's heartbeat was racing as he thought about what could be on the other side of this door. You could be injured, dead, or worst of all, gone altogether. The door creaked open, and the sight that lay in front of them caused Soap and Ghost to freeze.

You were standing over four dead bodies, carnage spread around the room. Your uniform was covered in blood, and your hands and face had the same fate. Blood dripped from your chin, and your teeth were bared, a low noise emitting from your mouth as your chest rose and fell rapidly. The one fact they couldn't ignore: Every single body in that room had their throats shredded into oblivion.

"Corpse?" Soap spoke softly, the horror in his voice being poorly masked, but Ghost couldn't take his eyes off you. You were shaking, and the usual light that was in your eyes was gone, replaced by brutality and viciousness. Ghost handed his gun to Soap, wanting it clear out of the way if you decided to attack him as well. He stepped forward, the bottom of his boots leaving bloody footprints on the way to you. His grip on your chin forced you to look at him.

"Corpse, snap to. Come back, soldier."

"Corpse, snap to. Come back, soldier." Ghost's voice was the only clear thing in your mind, and you felt like you had just woken up from a very long nap. Your mind was hazy, and you focused on Ghost's eyes searching yours for any hint of remaining humanity. The last thing you remember: The target advancing toward you with a knife. That was it.

"Ghost, I- The target-" Your voice shook, and you finally took note of your surroundings. The target in question was long dead, sat against his wall, and his neck- "Oh, my God." As soon as your eyes set on the carnage in the room, Ghost wrapped his hand around your arm and began pulling you.

"No, don't look. Don't look." His hand came around your eyes, so the only think you could see was a slight hint of the blood-stained floor. Soap said nothing as Ghost led you out of the room, down the stairs, and into the freezing air. When you were outside, Ghost unclipped your helmet, and Soap rounded the corner.

"What the fuck was that massacre, Corpse?"

You wracked your brain for a good explanation, a hint of any memory that would allow you to explain something that you simply cannot remember, and you came up dead empty.

"I- I don't know, I can't remember." Your voice was small, almost lost to the wind blowing through the town. You had never seen Soap upset, and his response certainly wasn't helping your confusion.

"You don't know?" He looked at you incredulously. "You don't know how you... You tore open their throats?"

"No! I don't know! I can't remember!" You wished you could lie to him. You wished you could remember any minor detail of what happened, but after the target came at you, the only thing you remember is Ghost bringing you back.

The bright headlights of a familiar van approached, and you jumped at the sudden brightness.

"Soap, that's exfil. Get in the car and tell them to wait." Ghost's low tone was commanding, and Soap could only sigh and place himself in the passenger seat, undoubtedly already coming up with a mission report.

"Corpse, focus on me." Your eyes left the van, and Ghost had placed himself directly in front of you, so there was nowhere to look but in his eyes. "Do you or do you not remember what happened?" The intensity at which he spoke made you want to cry, the fear of disappointing him feeling real.

"No, I- I don't remember anything. All I can remember is him coming at me with a knife, and the other three guys, they said they would hurt you and Soap, and they wanted to take me somewhere else, but you told me to never go to a second location, and I just... I don't know."

"Hush, love, I believe ya. Did they hurt you?" His hand moved to grasp your bicep, and you looked down at the ground.

"No, I don't think so. I'm not sure."

Ghost sighed, and looked back at the vehicle.

"Right, then. We'll get ya checked out, just in case, okay? Come on." He began walking, but stopped when he realized you weren't following him.

"Ghost, did I-" You took a shaky breath, your question stuck in your throat. "Did I fuck up? Am I going to be kicked out?" Ghost stared at you, your question hanging in the air, until he took a step toward you.

"Corpse, you killed our target. And then some. You won't be kicked out for completing a mission. Price might tell you have to see some kind of psychiatrist or therapist, but that's it. That's all, I promise. Now, you're going to get in the van, we're going to go back to base, and you're gonna shower. Get to."

There was no arguing with Ghost, you knew that. You knew he was right, but that still didn't stop the little fire of annoyance lighting in your chest, and it was made worse that you didn't know what you were annoyed more by - The fact that he was so confident about the hypothetical outcome, or the thought of having to re-explain the situation to your Captain. You sighed as you wrenched open the back door of the car, the copper scent of your actions filling the enclosed space.

The ride back to base was quiet, the radio occasionally tuning in to a random station, speaking in a language you had no hope of understanding. The sun had begun to rise on the horizon, an orange glow cast on the landscape, and you sighed at the sun hitting your face, the feeling unmatched after being submerged in darkness for what felt like forever.

A few hours had passed, and Soap's snoring in the front seat was almost peaceful. You hadn't dared sneak a look at your Lieutenant - you weren't sure what curdled your heart more, the thought of him staring at you in disgust or disappointment, or worse, not at all. When the car passed through the security checkpoint for the base you called home, you couldn't seem to focus on one problem or thought at a time. Finally, the car stopped, and the growling engine cut off. Ghost gave Soap a rough shove to his shoulder, startling the man awake.

"Soap. Go." Ghost's voice seemed almost impossibly rougher after staying silent for hours. Soap cast you a remorseful look before exiting the vehicle, along with the driver. Anxiety held its place in the base of your throat, the scent of blood suddenly was drowning you, and your hands shook as you began to fidget with the seatbelt latch. "Corpse. Captain wants to speak with you."

Ha. You're fired. You're so fired. Your one passion, the one thing you know you were born to do-. "You're not in trouble. He just wants to know what happened." Ghost sighed, and pressed his thumb into the latch, releasing your seatbelt. "Damn it, soldier, fuckin' look at me when I talk to you." His voice immediately took on a harsher infliction, and you stared up at him, reminded of what exactly your relationship is to him - he is a Lieutenant, you are a Sergeant. Nothing more. "Obviously..." Ghost's eyes looked you up and down. "Get showered first." Your voice was barely above a whisper when you spoke.

"Yes, sir." When your boots made contact with the ground, it felt like the weight of... Everything collapsed on your shoulders. The sun felt too bright, your gear heavy and sticky, and Ghost's eyes boring holes into the back of your head all combined into the worst storm possible. You shook your head, your own eyes trained on the ground in front of you as you walked to your barracks. Just keep it together until you're alone. All you have to do is make it to your room. That's all. Don't fall apart until you're there.

Do not fall apart until you're there.

#ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost fanfiction #modern warfare fanfiction

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elizabethemerald · 1 year

Text

Gala Daze DPxDC

AO3

“What a great idea Vladdie!”

“I don’t know Jack…”

“Oh I assure you, my dear Maddie that Daniel will be perfectly safe with me. I won’t let him out of my sight for a moment.”

“Come on Maddie, it would be a perfect opportunity for our Danno to bump elbows with some rich bigwigs!”

“Well maybe he can talk to them about getting some funding for ghost extermination. Very well Vlad. You can take Danny to Gotham.”

Danny was disassociating. While not entirely a new state of being, a dissociative episode had never lasted this long for him. He had been fully checked out from his body ever since the flight from Amity Park to Gotham. He had been thinking about turning intangible and just letting the plane fly through him so he could go home, when Vlad had leaned over to him to whisper in his ear. Vlad said if Danny stepped even one toe out of line, or did anything to embarrass him, Vlad would overshadow as many people as it took to ensure that Jazz was turned down by every college she applied to. He would ruin her entire future if Danny did even one thing wrong.

Danny had started disassociating after that.

His parents had done a lot to hurt him and Jazz. Usually the harm the elder Fentons did to their children was either accidental or unknowing. Like when Jazz was sick for days after the Thanksgiving dinner where Dad tried to fry the turkey in ectoplasm or like when they shot Danny when he was out as Phantom.

However this time there was no excuse for them hurting their kids. If they ever listened to their children they would know that Danny hated Vlad and Jazz didn’t trust him. The kids had said over and over again for years that they didn’t like Vlad, but no! Uncle Vladdie could do no wrong! Danny and Jazz were just making things up for attention.

Ancients, Danny hoped that he could keep his nose clean for the trip, he didn’t want to be responsible for Jazz having to give up her dreams of getting into an Ivy League school. He had lost huge swaths of time. He barely remembered leaving the airport and the next time he was cognizant they were heading to the gala in the tailored suits Vlad had ordered.

Fortunately Vlad loved nothing more than the sound of his own voice, not even Danny or his mom. So he was more than happy to talk to the people around them about Danny and any time someone asked Danny a question he would be the one to answer instead. Vlad kept his hand either on Danny’s shoulder or on the back of his neck at all times so he couldn’t even slip away.

Now he was talking to some rich fruitloop who kept trying to engage Danny in conversation. Brucie? Wait? Bruce Wayne? Yeah the guy was rich but why would Vlad go out of his way to introduce Danny to this airhead?

“Well, yes, my son Damian does have many interests, but I can’t say that any of them have to do with NASA's latest satellite.” Mr. Wayne was saying in response to something Vlad had said. Ah. That made sense. Vlad wanted to brag, shove his superiority into Mr. Wayne’s face. Brucie turned to address Danny. “Tell me Daniel, what do you know about NASA's deep space satellite?”

“Uh, I prefer Danny actually, Mr. Wayne.” Danny said. Mr. Wayne’s eyebrows rose marginally considering those were his first words during this conversation. “And I-”

“Yes, Daniel really is attached to that childish nickname, isn’t he?” Vlad spoke up again. “Really Brucie, you would think children would grow up at some point. We should discuss this more over a game of golf next week…”

Danny let Vlad’s words wash over him again. The worst thing about Vlad was he really knew how to push Danny’s buttons. Of course he would bring up the new satellite only to show off to his rich rival, then not even let Danny talk about it. And then insulting him for his name! Prick!

He tried to avoid looking at Brucie’s concerned face. Obviously he was a socialite and knew all about the proper behavior for galas, and Vlad probably wasn’t meeting those social rules. There was a small part of Danny’s chaos-gremlin brain that wanted to say something seemingly innocuous but super sus if you thought about it. Nothing would make Danny happier than getting Vlad investigated for something stupid like tax fraud, but he couldn’t risk Jazz’s career just for spite. Or gremlin urges.

Vlad moved his hand from Danny’s shoulder down to his lower back. Danny did everything he could to keep the snarl he wanted to make at that action from coming out. He still couldn’t help the full body shudder that shook his frame for a fraction of a second. Vlad shot him a look filled with malice and promised pain so Danny reigned himself back in and put his attention firmly on the floor in front of him.

Danny clenched his fists, driving his nails into his own palms. He was sure he was bleeding, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t do anything. He hated feeling powerless. You would think that after the portal accident and him gaining actual real powers the feeling would be far more rare, except it happens far too often and he hated it. His hands were shaking with rage and suppressed desire to punch Vlad right in his smug, manipulative, fruit-loop face.

He chanced a glance up just in time to see a girl melt out of the shadows near the wall. If he didn’t know better he would say she was a ghost with how easily she was able to appear. But she definitely wasn’t a ghost. Perhaps a touch liminal, but not a ghost. And she was watching him.

Danny tilted his head slightly to get a better look at her and she tilted her head to match. Her eyes flicked to the two adults for only a fraction of a second to confirm they were still engaged in whatever conversation they were having, then her hand came up and she signed for letters in what Danny recognized as ASL.

“R U O K.”

She merely looked the question at him. He risked a peak at Vlad, but he was focused on trying to strong arm Brucie into meeting for a golf match and some private drinks. Other than his thumb rubbing circles into the small of Danny’s back he wasn’t paying any attention to him. Danny looked back at the girl who was watching him intently. He gave the smallest shake of his head he could, hoping that Vlad wouldn’t notice. The girl nodded and slipped effortlessly back into the shadows, all but disappearing from view.

Several more minutes went by of mindless conversation with Mr. Wayne seemingly had given up on trying to get Danny to answer questions. He let his mind drift again to his beloved stars as he began naming the stars in biggest constellations visible in the night sky.

For a while Danny thought that nothing would come of the mystery girl who had checked on him, until a crash echoed across the hall from the entrance of the gala hall. Vlad finally released Danny’s shoulder to whirl to face the noise. Then to his surprise, Mr. Wayne turned as well to put himself in between Danny and the crash, effectively hiding him from Vlad. At first he thought that was just serial adopter Brucie Wayne’s first gut instinct in a crisis, putting his body between a threat and the nearest black haired kid.

However, immediately after Mr. Wayne stepped in front of him, two kids appeared out of the crowd, grabbed Danny’s shoulders and started to drag him away. He recognized the asian girl who had signed to him, and the other was, even more surprisingly, Damian Freaking Wayne! That meant that the other girl must be Cassandra Wayne! Sam had made sure Danny knew all the Waynes before the topic of the gala had even come up. Apparently the Waynes were the only people who made the events her parents dragged her to worth it.

Damian and Cassandra maneuvered through the crowd so effortlessly Danny had to take a moment to check if they were using intangibility. The trio weaved through as the noise behind them got even louder until they pulled him into a back room of the hall where a very tired looking Timothy Drake-Wayne was already there on his laptop. He looked up at Danny in confusion for a second before returning his attention to the computer in front of him.

“Don’t worry, that noise was just the chandelier in the entrance hall falling. Apparently it couldn’t take Dick’s weight.” Timothy, actual real CEO of Wayne enterprises said. Tucker would be losing his mind right now.

Cassandra settled Danny into a chair while Damian marched up to Timothy. Danny could finally take a moment to look properly at the Waynes. All three of them wore elegant, likely name brand suits. Timothy was wearing a plain white shirt under his suit jacket while Cassandra and Damian wore black on black suits, though Damian’s did have some green highlights at the lapels and pockets. Timothy looked like his eye bags had eye bags, which Danny could relate to.

“Father ordered you not to work for the night of the Gala.” Damian snapped. When Timothy didn’t dignify that with a response the youngest Wayne turned back to face Danny. “Vladimir Masters escorted you to the gala tonight.”

Danny couldn’t help but snort.

“What a polite way of phrasing that.” He said with a dark chuckle.

“Would it be more accurate to call you his hostage?” Timothy asked from his chair, where he was still focusing on his computer screen and whatever it was he was working on.

That brought Danny up short. He tried to stutter out a denial, but Damian quickly spoke over him.

“Has he hurt you? Threatened you or someone you care about?” Damian demanded.

“N-no! He would never lay a finger on me!” Danny was quick to say, trying to project as much confidence as possible. Cassandra moved her flat hand in line across her face. Damian glanced at her and his eyes narrowed at Danny.

“You don’t have to lie to protect him. We can protect you, our family has resources.”

Danny shook his head over and over again.

“I can’t talk about it. I can’t talk about it. I can’t talk about it.” He had to repeat himself, the phrase trapping themselves in his mind as he kept saying it over and over again.

If he told them what Vlad had done to him, Vlad would ruin Jazz’s entire life. He already regularly tried to kill his father, but there was no telling what he would do to Jazz. Danny couldn’t tell them about being thrown into walls during his fights with Plasimus, or the clones Danny had watched melt in his arms under Vlad’s uncaring eye. He almost jumped out of his skin when a hand came to rest on his shoulder.

While he was panicking, Damian had withdrawn, visibly uncertain about how best to approach him. Cassandra and Timothy had come closer, Cassandra had her hand on his shoulder providing a calm, steadying presence. Timothy had closed his laptop and scooted forward his attention now fully on Danny. He made some motion to the others that seemed to symbolize that he was going to be taking point.

“You’re not from Gotham originally, is that right?” When Danny nodded he continued. “We have some heroes here in Gotham. Believe it or not, we Waynes get kidnapped a lot, get rescued a lot. We know some of the Bats, they could help you.”

Danny was already shaking his head again.

“No, no no! That’s even worse. The worst thing that can happen if you Waynes help me is Brucie gives Vlad WE for pennies on the dollar and Vlad gets even richer. But if you get Batman involved, then he could have a man inside the JL. He could turn them against the people, use them as a tool to take over whatever he wants. He could overthrow the Ghost King…”

Now Danny was really panicking. He had muttered the last bit, terror carving its way through him. It would be like the absolute worst of the fight with Pariah Dark and Dan all over again. Danny would have to fight, and maybe kill the Justice League to stop him. If he won, he would have to eradicate Earth’s heroes, and if he lost Vlad would become King of the Infinite Realms.

“You are talking about mind control.” Damian said, his eyes wide.

“No! Not mind control. Overshadowing. Humans call it possession.” Danny was rambling now. Desperately trying to convince these silly rich people not to get involved. Danny was a lost cause, he couldn’t be helped. All he could do was keep his head down long enough for Jazz to get into her college of choice. The Waynes glanced at each other nervously for a moment and Damian pulled his phone from his pocket.

“I think I need to make a call.”

Danny snapped his head up, his attention on the far wall as his breath came out in a foggy puff, like he had just walked into a freezer. He didn't know it but his eyes were blazing green at that moment.

“It’s too late now.”

The Waynes all step back or slouch against their chairs. Only a second later the door to their room snaps open, Vlad furious, his once spotless suit now covered in red wine and assorted finger foods. His eyes burned red with rage as he locked onto Danny. Timothy immediately stood to his feet.

“Ah, Mr. Masters.” Vlad pulled himself back from his rage with difficulty to acknowledge the young CEO. “We were just coming out to look for you. Your ward was grabbed by our security team. Small case of mistaken identity. It's standard procedure during these sorts of events to get my brothers and sister to safety in the event of another terrorist attack. Or worse a Joker attack. Thankfully it seems everything is under control. You may take your charge now.”

Timothy brushed past Vlad without another comment. Damian glared at him, but he glared at everyone, while Cassandra just stared at Vlad, unblinking, like some kind of demonic cat. Her complete lack of reaction obviously weirded Vlad out even more than Damian’s aggression.

“Oh I’ll do that.” He grabbed Danny’s arm hard enough to bruise. “Come Daniel. We’re leaving.”

Danny turned away from the Waynes as he was dragged out the door. He didn’t want to face their pity. At least he did a good enough job convincing them that they can’t help him. Now he just had to last long enough to get back home again. He let himself checkout, ignoring Vlad’s crushing grip on his arm as he dragged from the gala and back to the hotel.

When Danny next checked in with his body it was to Vlad screaming in his face and burning pain in his body. In Vlad’s furious race out of the Gala after his humiliation he had pulled Danny’s arm out of his socket. And to emphasize his points Vlad would hit him with ecto fire, each hit destroying more of his once nice suit and leaving burns on his body.

“You think you can just toy with me in front of these richest elite? I will make your life hell! I will make your sister’s life hell! She’ll be lucky to make a living on the street corners of a shit hole like this!” He gestured out to the window, which Danny belatedly realized was open. “I just don’t understand why you make me do this to you, Daniel. Little Badger, you are forcing my hand and I-”

He shrieked as a batarang whipped from the open window. The lights in the hotel room flickered for a second and Batman, Robin and Orphan were standing in the room when the lights returned. Vlad turned to them, furious that they would interrupt.

“Vladimir Masters. We have some questions for you.” Batman growled.

“No! I think you’ll find Batman, that I have some questions for you!” Vlad’s eyes flared red. Danny tried to stop him but he was backhanded away

Vlad floated into the air as his ghost transformation rolled over his body. He reached out to grab Batman but before he could several things happened at once. First and most shockingly, Robin drew a katana and cut off Plasmius’ hand at the wrist. Then several voices shouted out at once.

“Azarath Metrion Zinthos!”

“Dnib siht tirips ot sti ydob!”

“Puer iste spiritus maxime!”

Chains of gold, purple and blazing fire wrapped around Plasmius again and again. The chains dragged him down to the ground even as he snarled and swore at them. A man in a trench coat, a woman in a long black cloak and an actual stage magician appeared in the room, magic sparking at their fingertips. Cassandra had bypassed the battle completely to come to Danny's side, though she did still have her weapons in her hands. Batman turned to address him, ignoring Vlad’s continued vitriol in the middle of the arcane trap.

“You’re safe now Danny. You don’t have to worry about him hurting you ever again. This I swear.” Batman said, his voice just as serious as it ever was, and for the first time in his life, Danny felt like he could actually believe it when someone told him he was safe. He collapsed to his knees, shuddering sobs shaking his body. He was safe, Jazz was safe from Vlad’s machinations. Maybe this nightmare could finally be over.

#dp x dc #danny fenton #bruce wayne #vlad masters #vlad is a creepy pos #as per usual #cassandra cain

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kess-in-the-perthchimzone · 6 months

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Kang’s gradual and complete breakdown

On rewatch, we were given a significant number of clues as to how bad Kang’s mental state is going into his conversation with Grandma Ging:

First, he stops and looks in on his dad. It’s easy to imagine that Kang is remembering how excited he’d been at the newfound hope that they might be able to repair their relationship, but that now seeing him on life support, Kang’s wondering if he’ll ever get to talk to him again.

Then, Grandma Ging tells us two pieces of what I think are critical information — Kang was supposed to stay in the house but he left in the middle of the night.

The last time this happened, when she was in the hospital and the dad stayed, we know it was only Kang and Sailom in the house. So now, we can infer Kang would have been all alone with all those big, dark, empty rooms. He would have had nothing to think about but his dad is possibly dying and how he pushed Sailom away. He would have been helpless but to remember how Sailom was with him the last time — how back then they were on the cusp of becoming boyfriends.

Then, Kang asks this. He outright tells us he couldn’t sleep and he needed comfort.

We know Kang has trouble sleeping when he’s anxious.

It’s not hard to imagine that he’s been like this every night since Sailom packed his things.

@criticallyobs speculates in their reaction episode that “hug you to sleep” might have been something Kang did with his mom.

He’s also asked that of Sailom, on a night before important exams. (I’m not crying at the idea that Sailom has taken on a role Kang’s mom used to play!! My screen just suddenly got blurry!!)

So before she ever brings up Saifah, we know (1) Kang probably hasn’t slept in days, (2) Kang is anxious, (3) Kang has been drowning in worry for his dad and thoughts of Sailom.

Well, then immediately after he came to her for comfort, she asks him about the subject that’s been torturing him. And look at him — he looks sick at the idea.

He is a relatively simple thinker so he asks this. In his mind, why would Saifah confess if he were innocent? This is a great example of a situation where he would normally lean on Sailom to help tease out a complex topic but can’t anymore.

And then, it gets even worse. Because if he didn’t want to talk about Saifah when he walked into the room, do you know who he really didn’t want to talk about? Saifah’s brother.

Grandma Ging is telling him here, Saifah would not have done this because not being in our home badly hurts Sailom. Someone who loves Sailom would not want to see him hurt.

I feel like any time I defend Kang I need to put these screenshots in, because not doing so would seem like trying to hide these words. Which again, are terrible.

But I said before, in ‘In Defense of Kang’ that what Kang is actually doing here is (obnoxiously) trying to justify his own actions to himself. He’s leaning on words he’s probably heard from his dad. He CANNOT have been wrong about Saifah. That is impossible to think about, because then it means that he threw the person he loved into a “difficult situation” for absolutely no reason (leaving aside the fact that he handled the situation badly even if Saifah were guilty). Grandma Ging has just point blank told him, if you love someone you wouldn’t do something like this.

This is Kang’s face immediately after he gives that little speech. He doesn’t believe his own words. He very clearly feels worse than he did before he walked into the room.

He already knew on some level that he made a mistake in sending Sailom away the night Sailom first left.

But this is when the full magnitude of his actions start to hit him.

Kang had already been grappling with the knowledge that he’d badly wronged Sailom when Sailom called him. He got to experience exactly one second of hope that Sailom wanted to reconcile, only for it to turn into a waking nightmare. This initial anger is his fear and self loathing bursting out.

((I do want to caveat before I continue that I do not believe it is entirely Kang’s fault that Sailom turned to escorting. Sailom turned down a genuine offer of help from his friends.

But Kang’s actions indisputably played a role. And he was forced to see in horrifying detail the consequences of him depriving Sailom of his support.))

Seeing Sailom scared and groggy and confused, shirt still hanging open from his near assault showed Kang in painful detail exactly how badly he failed to take care of the person he loves. In the face of this, anger so so quickly gives way to overwhelming regret.

Kang’s breakdown here is the final escalation of how he’s already been feeling since the moment Sailom walked out of his house. The escort scene gave the final blow necessary for Kang to shatter. It ensured Kang will never ever forget the importance of his role as a protector.

However, Kang had already been well on his way here for days.

(Find Sailom’s version here)

#dangerous romance #dangerous romance the series #kanghansailom #kess babbles about dangerous romance #kanghan kirttin sukprasert

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inkelea · 7 months

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smiles at the checkout! ✭

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

synopsis: the cute grandson of your regular client comes to shop their groceries alone for once.

genre: fluff, kinda angst if you squint at the end? FLUFF!! strangers to friends..(?) (more like acquaintances). drabble.

warnings: supermarket adventures part 2! (no need to read first part, can be read as a stand alone), annoying old women and teenage boys! can be read as idol! or non idol! au.

word count: 0.4k

part one.

a/n: soo, im very busy, but I did want to write this bc i thought it was cute and some people wanted a second part as well. but again I’m very tired too so if there’s mistakes well lol. hope you enjoy:)

losing your weekend for being behind the checkout counter of your neighborhood supermarket was not fun. the place that brought you happiness in boring days had officially become your worst nightmare.

angry old women would start whispering to themselves ugly things (they were never actually whispering) whenever you told them you could not control the growing prices of the products. it was becoming really annoying having to deal with them, keeping a smile at all times.

sometimes the old women would be teenage boys, thinking their tiktok hairstyles and overconfident smiles could win you over. it was ridiculous.

apart from that, it wasn’t that bad, but still, those occurrences were pretty common. not a lot of happy adventures happening in the place for you now.

until they appeared.

they always came together, the cute lady obsessed with pink, and her even cuter grandson. she would put on a smile and start taking her wallet from her purse, while her boy would put the groceries on the counter. it had become tradition. or at least it was before today.

“came alone?”

he looks up from his shopping cart, hair almost covering his eyes. “yeah, nana’s kinda sick.”

oh.

“she’s okay! i know she’s old but no need to act like she’s gonna die or something. it’s just a cold.”

you laugh, because the way he talks about his grandmother’s health is hilarious, something so his.

redirecting your attention to his groceries you bite your lip, trying your hardest to not laugh at the situation. he looks the same way, but neither of you realizes the other’s state.

“that’ll be ₩77.000.”

he rolls his eyes and sighs, opening his wallet reluctantly. he’s such an old woman.

the noise in the supermarket has been filling your head all day, but watching him put in his bag his last grocery, a butter can, makes silence surround you like a guardian angel.

you should be scared, seeing as someone you barely know has so much control over you. when he comes in sad, you get worried, pain hitting your chest like you just were stabbed on the back. but oh when he appears and he’s shining. you remember the first time you heard him laugh out loud, it was so beautiful that you thought it was the polar star guiding you to heaven.

it was difficult going home knowing you couldn’t have him, painful and sickening, even more knowing he probably hadn’t even looked at your tag name. every time he left like his heart didn’t ache for you like yours did for him, it made you a little more breathless, just like now.

he says his goodbyes and goes, a smile lingering on your face for a little too long after he’s gone.

damn, having to deal with the teenage boy who’s next in line is gonna be hard now.

@mochamvgz

#bjnet #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin x reader #skz x female reader #stray kids x female reader #skz blurbs #stray kids blurbs #skz drabbles #stray kids drabbles #inkelea

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w1ldthoughts · 5 months

Text

The Forgotten One Extra: Fool’s Gold

A/n: Don’t know if you all remember this series but @vanwritesfan-fiction had the brilliant idea for me to expand on it a bit. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Angst.

“Here are last month’s progress reports. We need to get all of this information together by next week and adjust the payroll.” Cleo sifts through the other sheets laying on the side of your desk, hoping to lighten your stack. The two of you had been up to your necks in paperwork, looking forward to another round of number crunching and maximizing the company’s revenue when it comes to placing bets.

“I do have to meet with accounting later and figure out our plus and minuses, see how much we can squeeze out before cashing in during the Kentucky Derby.”

This time of the year was always the most stressful being in your position. Director of operations means being the overseer of essentially every division. You felt like you were being pulled in a million different directions, constantly on the phone with partnering companies and making sure that everyone on staff was taken care of. It was the most overwhelming but fulfilling job you’d ever had. You just wished there was more time to sit and actually eat lunch.

“Ben is out sick today so I’m gonna go grab us some more coffee. Do you want your usual?” You asked Cleo on your way out the door, waiting for her to nod. Once you got your answer you headed down the hall, almost to the elevator when you heard hushed voices. You recognized them immediately. They were two women pretty fresh out of college working in marketing and sometimes they reminded you of yourself and Cleo when you first got to Churchill Downs. It made you smile.

“We need to submit this by tomorrow night so we can get to the meeting with y/n on Friday.” One of them said, messing with her phone.

The other one held the door for her and nodded in agreement. “Y/n’s cool and a nice boss but god I wish I was her. It would be so nice to not actually have to give a shit about your job when you’re fucking the owner of the company.”

“I know. I’m surprised she’s still as active as she is at work because I know for sure I would be at home enjoying my life as the trophy wife I am.” Her voice sounded so upbeat and excited when all her words did was cut down your confidence. Is that what your coworkers thought of you? A full-time live-in girlfriend and part-time Churchill Downs employee? Hearing that all the work you’d continuously put into your job and this company were reduced to a mere hobby made you sick. As soon as they were out of sight, you rushed down the stairs and didn’t even bother with the elevator.

Comments had been made like this about you before, you knew that. People always had something to say about mixing relationships with work, especially when you decide to date the boss so most of the time you let the comments roll off of you. But something about this made you feel…gross. Instead of being an inspiration to the women who worked alongside you, you were the poster child for nepotism. And the thought of that made your skin crawl. But of course, all of those thoughts had to be set aside at the end of your workday when you accompanied Jack to a Chief Executive dinner, where a bunch of business people gathered in their Sunday best, ate a lavish meal and somewhere along the way engaged in meaningful peer interactions.

The evening started off normal, other than the necklace you were wearing causing more irritation than usual. The room was stuffy and Jack was whisked away to talk to the executive officer of Delta Airlines about some deal with flights for this year’s Kentucky Derby. Even though you knew that Jack knew you should be involved in the conversation and would end up taking care of everything anyway, the interaction happened so fast that you found yourself sitting without him at your table when the first course of the evening was served. Just the sight of those stuffed mushrooms took away the little appetite you had left. Taking a sip of your wine, you subtly tried to scan the room to find him and see if you could catch the last part of the conversation, or at the very least, introduce yourself.

“Don’t worry. You get used to it.” The man sitting a few seats away said, breaking you out of your search. The whole situation made you feel like a child whose parent had forgotten to pick them up from school. “They just leave us here to fend for ourselves. At least the dessert options are usually good. Cheers to my fellow plus-one. We struck gold, didn’t we?” He raised his glass, making you grip yours even tighter as you held it in the air, downing your drink immediately after. You excused yourself from the table, finally spotting Jack surrounded by a group full of people who you recognized as sponsors for some of your biggest events, smiling and laughing without a care in the world and it felt like all of the air in the room had disappeared. Instead of heading to your boyfriend for comfort, you found yourself outside wondering if you could really do this for the rest of your life.

Could you?

“Baby? Did you hear what I just said?” Jack laughs, bringing you out of your daze. Rapidly blinking and coming back into yourself, you shook your head. Most of the night had been a blur and you didn’t even remember the drive home. Had he held your hand at all that night? Had you two even spoken to each other?

“Sorry, no I—I didn’t. What is it?”

He walked over to you, placing both thumbs on your temples, his hands were still a little cold from the walk into the house and it soothed your stress-induced headache. “Is everything ok? You seemed a little off tonight.”

“I’m good, just tired I think,” you tried to reassure him…and yourself. “Tell me what you said earlier.”

“Oh um, Ed invited us to his Chairman’s Club Gala. I think we’re really close to securing that partnership with them and it would be huge for us to have him and Delta Airlines on board.”

The light in his eyes and the excitement in his voice almost made you say yes. But then you remembered tonight and the incident from earlier in the day and—

“Jack I can’t. Maybe you should just go by yourself?”

“Y/n, I need you! We’re a team. And you know—”

“It looks better for you to be in a committed relationship? I get that. But I just, I can’t right now.” You let go of the hand you were holding, opting to cross your arms over your chest.“You don’t even realize what happened tonight do you?” You whisper.

Jack recognized the subtle shift in your energy.“I knew something was wrong.” He pauses, taking a breath. “What happened?”

“You left me. Treated me like some regular woman instead of someone who has a huge role at YOUR company. It would’ve been nice to meet Ed and get to talk to people instead of sitting at the table alone while you do your thing. You say we’re a team but it’s feeling like that’s only when it’s convenient for you.”

He leans against the counter next to you with a deep sigh. “Fuck, you’re right. I should’ve made sure you were with me but I just got way too ahead of myself and it was shitty. I’m sorry for that and at this Chairman’s Gala I will be better. I promise you.”

“Jackman, you're not hearing me. I don’t want to go. Seriously, I didn’t go to college majoring in how to be the perfect arm candy.” You were desperately trying to keep your voice from rising, but it was already happening.

“You are not arm candy, nobody said all that” he rolls his eyes.

“Actually they did!” You snap. “This morning, I heard people talking about me, about us. And shit they might be right. At the office I am in charge but out in the world where it really matters? I’m just someone on your arm and the shit’s embarrassing.”

“So being with me is embarrassing now? Got it y/n. Just because two nobodies at work said some dumb shit now you’re letting it affect you and affect our relationship?” He counters, clearly getting frustrated. “I’m telling you that this thing with Ed is really fucking important to me and you’re worried about everything else. This is business, sometimes we do shit we don’t wanna do and we make sacrifices. That’s a part of the damn job.”

“Actually? I clocked out of my ‘damn job’ hours ago. Right now, I’m trying to get my point across but we aren’t getting anywhere.”

“Because you’re not LISTENING to me.” He yells, the darkness to his tone immediately had you on the defense.

“I don’t have to! This isn’t about you right now and I know you’re shocked, but not everything is about you.

“It is so much more than just making teeny tiny sacrifices, Jack.” The tears were already threatening to escape. “I smile in pictures even though on the inside I’m fucking seething. I sit in rooms I wouldn’t even be allowed to breathe next to had it not been for my sex life. I make conversations with people who have been riding on their partner’s coattails since before I was born and I’ll be damned if I become one of those insensitive bitter plus ones who think the highlight of their life is to suck the martini off of their olives.”

“I’m not one of those people I—my parents would be so disappointed in who I’ve become. Shit I’M disappointed in who I’ve become. I don’t even know who I am right now. And you just want me to stand there, shake hands and smile for the fucking camera and go through the motions. It’s not as easy for me to fake it as it is for you.”

That definitely had his attention. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means you don’t get it Jack! You were born into this. You were literally born for this, every moment of your life has prepared you to be in this position. I’m constantly being thrown to the wolves and I have to do my best to catch up. All of this bending over backwards to fit in is hard. Especially when we are clearly not on the same page about well…anything it seems.”

Jack’s face drops at your confession. “So you—what do you want me to say? What can I do? Because I don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting your time.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I know this shit is…hard. And I admittedly haven’t been paying as much attention as I should have been and that’s my fault. But we still have each other. Right?”

Right?

“God I—I don’t know.” You sob.

He wraps you in his arms, holding you close. “Baby, we will figure it out. We just need to—”

You sighed deeply, struggling to keep it together, creating a bit of physical distance. “Oh my god Jack, there is no just. You don’t understand what it’s like and you never will. There is no simple fix and you’re not going to swoop in and make it all better. Not this time.”

“I don’t know if I can do this forever, I mean look at what it’s doing to us already. I basically just called you a spoiled brat, twice. You? The love of my fucking life. I don’t want to resent you, I don’t want to regret any part of being with you and here we are at each other’s throats over a fucking gala. We can’t keep going like this.” You looked at his shirt that was soaked with your tears but you couldn’t stop crying. Not when you were about to do this.

“I think we should—”

“No.” Jack stopped you, his eyes bloodshot red when you met his gaze. “We’re not doing that. Fuck no. I mean—please. Y/n please.”

His begging almost broke you and you’d never forget the look on his face as long as you lived. “I love you,” you began, “I love you so much. But if we are going to figure out how our lives, if our lives actually fit. We just need some time apart. To be sure that this is really what we want.”

“Please Jack, I need this.” You beg. “I’m so sorry.”

He nods his head slowly, leaving you with a simple kiss on the forehead.

“I know what I want. I want you.” He tells you with the utmost confidence. “And if that’s not enough, then maybe we aren’t meant for each other.”

Taglist

@jackharloww

@vanwritesfan-fiction

@middlechild404

@harlowcomehome

@itsyagirljaz

@iknowdatsrightbih

@earthtoharlow

@realwifeofjackharlow

@rosie-posie08

@heavyhitterheaux

@hoodharlow

@jackiehollanderr

#jack harlow #jack harlow au #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jackman thomas harlow

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