#what would be the ethics after? would someone find out? would they have to tell me at some point? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojonanami · 16 days

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❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❞

❝ PROF GETO BROKE YOUR HEART & NOW YUTA IS HOT ?? ❞

✧ pairing: prof!suguru geto x f!reader (& grad student! yuta x f!reader)

✧ summary: after suguru leaves you broken hearted, yuta's there for you when you're putting your heart back together, and he's not sure when or if he even wants you to tell you how you feel. but what happens when you start to realize your feelings?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, angst, depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader and yuta are grad students, but age is vague, dealing with a breakup, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, art by @ / polariae (who is incredible and everyone should go follow them now!!)

✧ wc: 12,464

Yuta felt as if he was always running late — for everything.

He had transferred into this university a year into his schooling, he was always running late to meetings, and he was too late when he fell for you.

But he seemed to have good timing in this moment — as he ran into you, as why was it he could always find you effortlessly without trying, but there was no smile on your lips when you met his gaze, but only tears — if only so he could comfort you.

He says your name, as he stops you gently, fingers brushing against your shoulders, as your gaze falls to the ground, “What happened? Are you—”

“Yuta, I’m sorry, I have to go—” but he stops you for a moment.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s completely fine, but can I call someone?” he says gently, he could see the tears slipping off your cheeks, even as you attempted to wipe them away, “I don’t think you should be alone—”

And then you’re hugging him, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I shouldn’t—but I—”

His arms go around you gently, “It’s okay, don’t apologize, I’m here for you,” and he doesn’t know what else to do but stand there with you, as curious gazes of passersby watched the two of you, “come on, let’s go somewhere more private.”

~~~

When had he fallen for you? It was hard to say, but apparently easy to see.

“So did you tell her you like her?” And Yuta nearly spits his drink out when Maki asks him that after one of the student government meetings. She sipped at the can of black coffee, nonchalantly, her eyebrows raised at his sputtering. He wipes his mouth, a slight glare in his gaze, “based on that reaction, I would say no,”

“What are you talking—“ and your name leaves Maki’s lips, and his cheeks flush, ears burning, as he presses his knuckles to his lips, unable to meet her gaze, “was it that obvious?”

“To a person with eyes,” and his gaze snaps to her, a question on his lips, “no, she doesn’t know,”

Yuta slumps back in the chair he was sitting in, as he sets his drink down on the round table, “how can I tell her? She has a boyfriend,”

“One that she doesn’t even see that often,” Maki leans back in her chair, “I’ll give you some unsolicited advice, Yuta — if you keep having these feelings and don’t do anything about it, you’ll regret it,”

But how could he do anything when he already knew you were struggling? It wasn’t enough that your boyfriend was far away, but he didn’t seem to make time to come see you — even on your birthday — but to push his feelings on you on top of that. It wasn’t fair.

So he had to settle on being your friend, just your friend.

“What happened?” He asks again when the two of you get to a secluded corner of campus, a bench far enough away, as you sniffled, wiping your tears and murmuring apologies, “you don’t have to talk about it—“

And you shake your head, “My boyfriend, he, uh, broke up with me,” and he stares at you — your voice wavering as you speak, “I just, didn’t expect that to, you know—“

Yuta tilts his head, speaking softly, “Why don’t I take you back to your apartment?”

So he does, taking the quick metro ride there, as your fingers brush his as the two of you walk beside each other. The silence hangs as comfortably as it can, your eyes straight ahead, as he sneaks glances at you. He wants nothing more than to take your hand, to tell you it would be okay, but he couldn’t — he didn’t want to overstep. It had already been hard enough to contain his feelings when you were with someone — and now that you weren’t — he wanted nothing more than to love you as you deserved to be loved.

But it wasn’t his love you wanted — and it wasn’t what you needed either.

You needed a friend, not a lover, more than ever.

“Thank you for bringing me home, Yuta,” you mumble, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess — I’m not being—“

“You don’t have to be anything, you’re fine,” he says softly, as you fumble with your keys, “do you want company?”

You give a terse chuckle, as you unlock the door, “I’m not the best company right now, Yuta,”

And he could have told you that you were the company he always wanted, the company he never would say no to — good or bad — but he couldn’t. So he said something else.

“Then I guess I’ll have to make up for it by being very good company,” and you give a watery laugh, shaking your head, as you hesitate, glancing over your shoulder.

“Are you sure?” And he only steps past you into your apartment, as he smiles.

“Come on, I’ll order us dinner and you can put on an…interesting movie again,” and your lips quirk up as you step past him into the apartment.

He couldn’t be more than a friend — not now — but maybe at some point. But he would be happy to just be in your life.

That was enough.

~~~

He wasn’t enough, Suguru sat in the train, the sun long set on Tokyo as he watched the city fade into the distance — as he leaned his face against the glass of the window. He had taken a late train back to Kyoto — one of the last — he could have taken an earlier one, but he had lost track of time.

How long did he stand there?

It felt like hours — minutes had ticked by as such, but he knew it was long enough for him to miss several trains by the time he had left for the station. It was long enough that he saw you disappear in the distance, Yuta assumedly in tow.

It was right — it was what was necessary. That’s what he told himself as he watched the scenery move past him in seconds, but it felt as if time had stood still. He could hear the soft snores and quiet murmuring of the sparse passengers among the train, the footsteps of others as they walked up and down the aisle, and the steady shudder of the train as it ran along to its destination. But still, it felt as if he was still trapped behind glass in that moment, he watched himself drop your heart, watched it shatter beneath his feet, and he didn’t go after you.

Why didn’t go after you?

He asked himself again and again — but the only answer amongst the buzzing white noise that had only served to numb his mind to the pain was that it was necessary.

He had always known you had a bright future — you could anywhere, lecture overseas, do fellowships or a Phd program, or even become a professor elsewhere. But when he had spoke to Yaga, it had solidified in his mind even more so — he wasn’t giving you what you needed and he was holding you back while he was at it.

And the worse part was he knew you would never blame him — not for a minute. You would try to make it work. Long distance, giving opportunities up, or even choosing him over yourself. And he couldn’t abide letting you give up what you wanted for him — even if it wasn’t what you would have chosen. Because he knew you would always choose him.

So he had to be the one to choose you.

He needed to leave you behind, just as he had left Tokyo. He had made his choice, and now he had to live with it — and live without you.

It was necessary. It was right — he shut his eyes, leaning against the window beside his seat, tears burning at the corners, as a tear rolled past hidden behind his hand — so why did it feel so wrong to be without you?

~~~

You didn’t want to wake up.

You pulled the comforter over your head, finding refuge underneath the plush duvet, and wondering if it was possible to stay under here long enough for your problems to disappear. But you knew the pain would remain, but even so, you sought the sweet escape of sleep — if only for a few hours, you didn’t have to feel this heartache, you didn’t have to remember this.

You didn’t have to remember him.

And then there’s a knock on your door, a persistent knock that draws you from the arms of your only oasis under your sheets, and you drag yourself from bed, your eyes aching from your tears from last night.

Fuck, you rubbed at your eyes. You glanced at the couch, finding no one there — when did Yuta leave last night? You couldn’t remember — and you’re dead on your feet as you find your way to the door, opening it without a thought.

And your breath caught.

“Suguru?” you stared, as he stood in front of you, bouquet of flowers in hand. You stumbled over your words as gracefully as you had gotten out of bed, as his arms wrapped around you. You stood motionless for a moment before melting into his touch, tears burning at your eyes yet again, “what are you doing here? Why—“

“What do you mean?” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, “you know I can’t stand to spend more than a few hours away from you,” and you’re burying your face in his chest, biting back the urge to sob then and there.

You kept your tone as even as you can manage as you pull away, “Suguru, you said—“

“I know I’m early, but we can just spend some time together before we head out—“

And you’re shaking your head, “Head out where?”

He furrows his brow in confusion, a chuckle escaping his lips, “Did you forget? You’re the one who insisted that we should be early — you kept saying we couldn’t be late,”

“To what?”

“Our engagement party,” he takes your hand gently intertwining your fingers to show you the ring you wore — and you’re staring at it, as he presses sweet kisses to each of your knuckles, “now shouldn’t you get ready? Or are you the one who’ll make us late?”

“Suguru—“ and his lips find yours in a gentle kiss, warmth blooming from his touch alone, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulder. For a second, it’s real and it’s right — Suguru has found his way back to you.

Right?

And his lips part from yours, his fingers brushing your cheek, “I love you,” he murmurs, saying your name again and again and—

A hand brushes your shoulder and you jolt awake, your hand slapping whatever had touched you away, as your fingers grasped at your comforter. You blinked, as your breath slowed, and you had found yourself in bed—

Again.

And another mutter of your name snaps your gaze up to find Yuta standing a foot from your bedside now, his brow wrinkled, holding his hand in the other—

Fuck.

“Oh my god, Yuta, I’m sorry — I was having a—“ you cut off a moment, you didn’t know whether to call it a dream or a nightmare, “just, I’m sorry,” you cover your face with your hands, “I barely remember getting into bed last night,”

He waves you off, “It’s ok, I know you had a rough night,” he offers a small smile, “I had to help you into bed — you were a little out of it, so I just stayed on the couch,”

You groan, wishing you could burrow into the Earth and never emerge, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again—I’m sorry I made you stay—“

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says softly, “I’m your friend — I’m here for you,” and you swallow, tears burning at your eyes again, “s-sorry, did I?”

And you shake your head before slipping out of bed and hugging him, “Thank you, Yuta, really,” and he wrapped his arms around you tentatively, “I think you’re my best friend,”

You were so lucky to have him — especially when you needed someone the most.

“Of course,” he murmured, and you didn’t not know his heart was aching ever so slightly, “you’re mine too.”

~~~

“Do you want to talk about what happened with…your boyfriend?” Yuta knew the only way you would be able to heal is by talking about it — and that’s the one thing you had avoided doing all weekend. Sure you talked — but about the movies you were watching, about classes, about anything — then what had happened.

You hadn’t brought it up since that morning, you had washed up and it was as if he had imagined what had happened. You made breakfast, you put on a movie, and you joked about his allegedly questionable restaurant choices. But not a word about your dream or about your breakup.

But he knew he had to ask.

You were just coming off laughing at something that had happened in the rom-com you had switched on, and your lips fell into a seamless frown, as if the facade of happiness melted off with his words.

Your gaze falls, arms tightening around the cushion in your lap, a bitter chuckle falling from your lips, “does anyone ever want to talk about their breakup?”

He furrows his brow, “Bottling it up won’t help you heal from it — the only way is to let it out, and I can’t tell you what to do but—“ he bites his bottom lip, your eyes never lifting to meet his, “I know you need to let it out, one way or another,”

You pause a moment, as you press your face against the cushion, “It hurts too much, Yu, I don’t know if I can,”

“It doesn’t have to be now, I just want you to—“

“We were long distance,” and he’s opening his mouth to cut you off, but you shake your head, “you’re right — if I don’t talk about it now, I never will,”

So you told him. Told him how you both had gotten together right before your boyfriend had received a job offer that required him to move, how the two of you decided to date regardless, and how you continued to be long distance even after he started.

“It just got harder to see each other, and he ran late on my birthday but I didn’t care—“ and Yuta tilts his head, “I mean, I did care — but I knew it was temporary. I was going to graduate and move to be with him—“ and your nails dig into the soft fabric of the cushion, “but it didn’t matter. He thought it was for the best — for my best interest — that we break up,”

He furrows his brow. This, the crying and heartache, was for your best interest? “Why—“

“Because he thought I was limiting my options, that he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend — one that I deserved,” you shake your head, tossing the cushion aside on the couch, “but he didn’t understand — I just wanted him—I knew it would be different when we were together—“ your voice breaks, “but he didn’t want to wait.”

Yuta lets you talk and lets you rant and cry — until you’re asleep after lunch, taking a nap on the couch beside him. And he wonders if this is helping, but at least you’re sleeping now — he spotted the bags under your eyes when he saw you wake in the morning — as if you had spent the entire night tossing and turning.

Was this okay for him? He wasn’t expecting anything — aside from your friendship. He didn’t think you were going to wake up and fall in love only because he did what a friend should do. But was it okay for him to be here?

Because he couldn’t quash the little bit of hope that inched its way into the crevice of his heart that maybe you’d heal from this — maybe you would be able to get over this and you’d see him, as more than a friend or a best friend. He wanted to think he would do this even if he didn’t have feelings for you — it would probably be easier if he didn’t.

But the facts stand that his motivation was corrupt — he chuckled, fuck, even the philosophy you had dosed him with, during your meals and student government meetings, was infecting his mind. Motivation mattered — because if you know or expect a reward from doing something, no matter how hard you try, your motivation will always be just that,

And his eyes slide to you — fast asleep as he grabs the throw blanket on your couch and gently places it over you — but he wouldn’t mind being corrupt, if it meant he could stay with you.

~~~

“She broke up with her boyfriend?” Maki raises an eyebrow, placing her drink down, “and you still haven’t told her?” Maki’s judgment pierced through Yuta, even as he couldn’t quite meet her gaze, biting his lip, “what are you waiting for? For her to get back together with him?”

“Maki, I can’t make a move so soon—she’s vulnerable—“

She sighs, leaning back, as she crosses her arms, “Well, you’re a good guy for that, but you need to do something, even if it’s not confessing. You should try spending more time with her, encourage her to open up more—“

“I don’t know — I don’t want to overstep—“

“Yuta,” Maki cuts him off, “you’re a good guy and you deserve to be happy — you spend a lot of time worrying about other people, and not enough time thinking about yourself. If she’s not ready right now that’s fine, but she might not realize she’s ready until someone helps her to,” she tilts her head, her fingers beginning to toy with the straw of her drink, “I just don’t want to see you regret hesitating,”

Yuta’s phone went off — your name flashing on the screen, hey, are you free to hang out and watch a movie tonight? Finally finished working on my thesis proposal for the night!

Maki glances at his phone, raising an eyebrow, “just don’t wait too long, “or you may end up alone, either way.”

~~~

“I told you we should have gotten dumplings tonight,” you grumble, as the two of you take your takeout back to your apartment, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, “I can’t believe the sushi place was closed,” you pout.

And Yuta bites back a smile — his cheeks burn — god, you’re so cute. It wasn’t fair. He knew you were just mostly teasing — only so you could have the pick of the movie tonight — which you knew he’d give you anyway.

The two of you had settled into these weekly movie nights on Fridays, which had a 70% chance of devolving into a weekend of hangouts amidst work for your programs. It had been weeks since your breakup — and your sadness seemed to ebb with each passing day, normalcy seemingly returning.

“We could have gone there—“ and you give a long, over dramatic sigh, shaking your head.

“It’s fine, but if this food sucks, I will be holding this over your head,” you bump him with your shoulder, a smile on Yuta’s lips, and right then someone calls out Yuta’s name. The two of you glance back, and Yuta blinks as he spots his friends.

“Toge, Panda,” Yuta greets them, Toge’s hands raise as he begins to sign—

Hey, who’s your friend?

Yuta replies, before gesturing to you, introducing you by name, “we’re just headed back to watch a movie—“ and he points from the shorter one to the taller one, “this is Toge and Panda,” Panda flashes a knowing smile, adjusting his leather jacket, head tilting as he gives you a small once over. Toge’s lips are covered with his face mask, his dyed silver hair brushing against his forehead —

Panda grins between the two of you, “Ah it’s good to meet you — I heard about you from Yuta, and Maki," he adds, while Yuta shoots him a look that he hopes that you don’t notice, “how’s the work in student government? I hope Maki isn’t working you too hard,” but you seem oblivious to it, only smiling between the two of them.

“No it hasn’t been bad, and Yuta has made it really easy. He’s been a really big help—“ and Panda before leaning over to whisper in Yuta’s ear.

“You have a chance with her, don’t mess it up,” Panda’s elbowing him, before clapping him on the back, his arm slinking around his shoulders, while Yuta tries to will his blush to leave his cheeks, “well we should let them get going, right, Toge?” and Toge nods, and Yuta only knows Toge has a smile hidden under his mask as well, flashing a thumbs up out of your line of sight, while you glance between Yuta and Panda, “you two love birds have fun!”

And Yuta stammered, “We’re not together like that,” he’s shooting a glare at Panda’s back as the two of them walk off, waving. And his eyes snuck a glance at you, but you seemed unfazed, only tilting your head — and shit, his head was spinning, heart doing its best to exit via his chest by banging against his ribs. Did you know? Was it obvious? Was this it?

“I didn’t know you knew sign language,”

And apparently it wasn’t.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I learned when I met Toge in high school,” he offers a forced smile — but relief isn’t the only thing that floods his system, disappointment comes in waves — because again, here he was, right back at the start.

The two of you continued to chat on the walk back to your apartment, his fingers curled tightly around the handles of the takeout bag as you pulled out your keys, wondering how many more times would he do this — how many more times would he think you realized his feelings only for it to remain unspoken? He was more than okay to stay your friend, but — he watched you open the door to your apartment — would he regret not taking a shot at being something more?

And as you glanced back at him, a smile on your lips, he knew he would.

~~~

You didn’t think it would — but it had gotten easier, easier to be without Suguru.

There were days you still had woken up crying, there were other days you had almost forgotten.

Almost.

But now in hindsight, adjusting to life without Suguru hadn’t been much different than being with him the last few months. Not when the two of you had barely seen each other. You had put away his things, tucked away the memories, and picked up the scattered parts of your life —even though you couldn’t find the piece he had taken with him.

But even so, you had finally felt as if you boarded up the love the two of you had built, one that he had set on fire and burnt the insides to nothing but ash and smoke — the same fire that had you coughing up the broken pieces of your heart — throat burning with his name on the tip of your tongue.

Even so — your fingers found the dragon pendant under your shirt, some things were harder to let go than others.

But it shouldn’t be hard, right? Love shouldn’t present so many obstacles — it should be simple, easy — not difficult and tenuous. And that’s all your relationship had been — only due to circumstance, but sometimes that was enough.

And in your case, it had been too much.

But you knew you couldn’t have made it through without Yuta. Your eyes slide to him, his face illuminated only by the glow of the TV — lights turned off for the best movie night experience. Or at least not as quickly as you did. He was leaning back against the couch, his head leaning towards your side.

You bite your lip. Your mind wanders to what Panda had said — love birds — it hadn’t been the first time someone had commented on the two of you together. How many of your friends had made some comments about Yuta, even the ones in student government (Maki in particular had been dropping not so subtle hints)? How many of them had you brushed off without a second thought?

But now — ever so conscious of his weight beside you on the couch, of every twitch of his fingers, shift of his limbs — you had second thoughts.

You had tried your best to play off Panda’s comment, and Yuta did the same, the two of you had grown used to dancing around this topic. And before you hadn’t thought of Yuta that way in the slightest— not with everything going on — not with your mind still full of Suguru.

But now…His eyes softly lit by the bouncing lights of the movie, until they found yours, and somehow growing even softer, as his lips curled.

“Need something?” When was it that Yuta could make your heart flutter with only a smile? He was a friend — right? Just a friend, but now—

He leans over, your heart squeezing as he does — your eyes nearly fluttering shut, his hand brushing your cheek, only for the barest of touches. And your cheeks burned in the dim light of the TV.

“You had something on your cheek,” he explains, and you nod, biting your lip — as you snap your gaze away, and a small chuckle on his lips, “What is it?”

What was it about him now? His smile was just a smile, his eyes were just eyes, and his presence was only comfort. And now — his smile made your stomach bloom with butterflies, his eyes were depths you wished to swim in, and his presence gave you comfort but in the loneliest of ways — the gap between you both a cliff you stared down, unable to jump.

So you shake your head instead, “It’s nothing,” you smile as you press your knuckles to your lips.

Maybe your head was full of someone else for once.

~~~

“Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” You ask Yuta — a routine for most other weeknights, as you grabbed your bag, as you wait for him outside the conference room as the student government meeting ended for another week, “I heard this new restaurant opened up near my apartment, and we could hang out at my place after—“

“I—“

“Yuta?” A cute girl comes up to Yuta, and he smiles as he greets her, she pulls Yuta aside, as he chats with her just out of earshot, her hand grazing his shoulder.

And your stomach turns, a twinge in your heart as you watch the two — you don’t remember Yuta mentioning her, but then again, Yuta rarely talked about himself, even when you asked. It was like pulling teeth — and now here he was. Now, he was smiling at a girl you knew nothing about.

What was this feeling? You shifted from foot to foot, restlessness settling over your body as you purse your lips as if to prevent unnecessary words from spilling from your lips. Why did you feel so...helpless? Your arms crossed over your chest as if that would hold you together — keep your heart from falling back into the pieces you had meticulously put back together.

Oh.

You watched them talk, as the girl finally seemingly said her goodbye and flashed a small smile your way before disappearing down the hallway.

“Sorry,” Yuta walks back over, a smile on his lips, but you knew that smile wasn’t for you. Not like before, “yeah let’s grab dinner,”

And you weren’t the same either—

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you force your lips to curl, as you walk past him, “let’s go,”

—because you were jealous.

~~~

“Yuta, have you thought about dating?'' Your question comes seemingly out of nowhere one night, right after midterms, and Yuta has to stop himself from spitting out the sip of his tea he had taken, forcing himself to swallow. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you, your eyebrow raising, “you good?”

“Y-yeah sorry,” he clears his throat, hoping his cheeks weren’t flushed red from that, “why do you ask?”

“I was just curious because we’ve talked a lot about my dating life, but nothing about yours,” it was late, or rather early—nearly 3 AM on a Saturday night, the two of you were half asleep on the couch, stuck in a stubborn battle of not wanting to sleep quite yet, “you don’t talk a lot about yourself,”

“There’s not much to say,” he shrugs, and your raised brow tells him you’re not satisfied with his reply, he relents with a sigh, “there was a girl I liked when I was a kid — Rika, we met when I was in the hospital,” and your lips twist into a frown, “I was sick a lot when I was little, and that’s when I met Rika. She lived with her grandparents — her parents both had passed when she was even younger. We were inseparable—“ he gives a soft chuckle, “but then she…” his voice wavers.

“You don’t have to—“ and he’s shaking his head.

“We were playing and she went into the street to cross when a car sped by—“ and he shakes his head, “she didn’t make it,” your fingers knit together, before one of your hands finds his.

“You didn’t have to share that if you weren’t ready,” and he’s offering a weak smile, squeezing your hand.

“I wanted to,” he sighs, as he rubs at his eye, “there’s not much I wouldn’t tell you,” and you supposed that was the difference between him and Suguru — communication that wasn’t limited, a conversation that wasn’t one sided, and honesty — without a price.

“So there’s been no one else since Rika?” you tilt your head, and you swear you see a twinge of red across his cheeks, dusting his features even in the dim light.

“Why are you asking?” he says slowly, it feels as if he’s caught you, as your gaze snaps away, a pout on your lips, as you press your knuckles to your lips — and it’s as if he got a hold of your thoughts, “is it because of Kirara earlier?”

“Oh, that’s her name?” Yuta has to bite back a small smile at your narrowed eyes, unable to meet his gaze, “how do you—”

“She’s a friend from high school — and she’s dating another old friend from high school,” he adds, and your eyes snap to his, “I don’t like her like that anyway — she’s just a good friend, and likes to give me unsolicited advice on my fashion sense,”

Your lips curl, “Well you are a little basic in your—” and he cuts you off with a look, and you’re shifting your body to face him fully, “so if it’s not Kirara, you don’t have anyone in mind? Not even a crush?”

Your question feels like an answer in and of itself — along with the look you’re giving him — the same one he had always given you, when you weren’t looking — longing. But what if he was wrong? What if he was projecting? But he could spend his whole time wondering, and never knowing — or he could take the leap.

He chews on his bottom lip, and he steels himself, his gaze turning back to you, “and if I said there was?”

Were you ready for this? Would you ever be ready for this? Suguru still lingered in the back of your mind collecting cobwebs, on the tip of your tongue like a curse unspoken — and yet your forefront was filled with nothing but Yuta — his kindness, his honesty, his straightforward nature — all things you hadn’t gotten from Suguru when it mattered, when it counted. And it would be easy — there would be no complications — other than the complications that always came with relationships and emotions.

But that was far simpler than what you and Suguru had to deal with.

“Then I’d ask you,” your fingers reaching across a line that was meant to be crossed, but one that perhaps you shouldn’t anyway, “what are you waiting for?” and your hand finds his — his hand smaller than the one you’re used to, but warmer and softer.

“I don’t want to rush—” and you’re shaking your head, as your squeeze his hand, fingers laced together, as your thumb runs over his palm.

“We don’t have to,” you murmur, your gaze finding his, and he’s leaning closer to you, as if with a magnetic pull — and you find yourself attracted and not repelled to his pull, “we can take our time, can’t we?”

And his lips curl into a small smile, his dark eyes nearly consumed by the shadows underneath them, but somehow as soft as they always were — “Is this a dream?” he murmurs, whisper like, as if his words would ripple across the surface of reality until it disappeared within its depths, “I wanted to tell you for so long — but I didn’t know it if was too soon or if—”

“I know,” it had been three months, three months since you had your heart broken, but you were tired of wallowing, of trying to put your heart back together by yourself — you may have filled in the cracks, but maybe you needed someone to cement the parts back into one — and maybe Yuta was the one, “and maybe it is, but I want to try,” you admit, “is that wrong?”

And how could he say it was — when it was all he wanted?”

“No,” his fingertips brush against your cheek, “maybe it’s just right.”

~~~

He shifted in his sleep, a warm body pressed against him, his arms slinking around your own, your face buried in his neck in the best way he could imagine. Your fingers raked through his jet black locks, you pressed a sweet kiss to his neck, and a soft groan left his lips.

“Baby, finally awake?” your lips press a smile against his skin, your finger drawing a circle against his chest, “we have to get up soon, we’ll be late,” you murmur, “and I know how you feel about being late,” your nose brushes against his jumping pulse, “Sugu?”

Suguru groans softly, burying his face in your hair, “Five more minutes,” and you chuckle against him, his favorite sound that graces his ears, his eyes fluttering shut again, as he surrounds himself in your scent — the notes of lavender and rosemary from your shampoo, “just want to spend a few more minutes with you, sweetheart — I need you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hum, rubbing his head softly, fingers curling around one of the locks of his hair, “I don’t recall you gracing me with five minutes when I was late on that first day,”

He groans, shifting only to bury himself in your chest, pressing soft kisses to the valley between your breasts, nose pressed against the hollow of your throat, the cold metal of the dragon pendant against his cheek, “I wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he’s leaning back only to press a sweet kiss to your lips, again and again — it always felt so right being with you.

“But you’re not my boyfriend now,” and he pauses, before glancing up at you, your eyes glassy with tears, “remember?” your fingers ghosted over his cheek.

RING. RING. RING.

His eyes don’t bother to open as he reaches for his phone, turning off the ringer, before his hand reaches for you, only to find an empty space beside him. He flutters his eyes open, glancing over, and finds your absence beside him.

It had been months, but you still haunted him—and he would spend the rest of his life running from the ghost of what could have been—and pretending it doesn’t hurt.

He turns on his side to look away from your side of the bed — even though it still did.

~~~

You stared at the outfits laid out on the bed — practically your entire closet threw up your complete wardrobe, and even so, you couldn’t find a single thing you wanted to wear. Or rather—

You tossed another blouse onto the pile— you couldn’t find a single thing that didn’t remind you of Suguru. One of these he had said brought out your eyes, the other he had picked out for you, and the other he had taken you out on your one month anniversary for a surprise date.

There were too many memories — and too many that you didn’t care to relive. Especially today, as your phone goes off — I’ll be on my way over soon. Are you almost ready?

Fuck. Yuta was on his way almost and you hadn’t even finished picking an outfit.

By almost ready, do you mean not ready at all? You bite your lip, I know it’s silly but I can’t decide what to wear.

You dig two outfits out of the bottom of the pile — and stare at them — you didn’t like to wear new outfits on a first date, but maybe this would be a fresh start for you. One where you could leave behind some of the memories tied around your ankles like anchors, dragging you down the depths of waters you didn’t want to explore any longer.

Your phone goes off again — You’d look amazing in anything — I’ll be there soon.

Your lips curl at the sight of his text — you choose a dress, tugging your shirt over your head and your shorts down, before pulling the dress down. And you adjust your hair in the mirror, before looking closely at yourself — a glint catching your eyes.

Your fingers ghost over the dragon pendant — you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to take it off. But maybe it was time — and your hands reach around unclasping the chain before placing it in the palm of your hand.

Your fingertip traces over the rainbow colored gems — and he wondered if he even still thought of you like you thought of him. It was so easy for him to leave — so did he put you out of his mind while he was at it? You held the necklace over the trash bin next to your vanity — your fingers squeezing at the chain and pendant, as it dug into your skin — should you toss it away like he had with you?

No —you pulled your hand back — no, you couldn’t. You placed the necklace in the box it came in, tucking it away behind some things.

You heard your phone go off again, as you spared one last glance at the vanity, where the box was hidden away—

Because it still meant something to you. Even if it didn’t to him.

~~~

“You complain about my movies, but the one you chose was much worse,” you say as you unlock your apartment, “that plot line made little to no sense,”

“If you suspend your disbelief—“

You stop, your key hanging from your door, as you stare at him, “I can believe that supernatural powers exist in that universe, but why would the universe entrust these powers to the stupidest people alive?” He snorts, as you continue unlocking the door, as you spare a glance at Yuta who is still fidgeting near your doorway, “you gonna come in?”

“I-well, I thought since this our first date, maybe I shouldn’t since you wouldn’t do that one a first date,” and you blink, your lips curling, as you watch him trip over his words, cheeks tinged pink, “not that anything would happen if I did come in—but—“

You step closer, silencing his words, seemingly stuck in his throat, “You really thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” and your fingers brush his, slowly intertwining with his as you bridge the gap, “I really appreciate it,”

He bites his lip, eyes sliding sideways, as he does, before he’s tilting his head again, “I just don’t want you rush into anything, and I don’t want us to still feel like—”

“Just friends I know,” you smile, “well then why don’t we leave it here for tonight, but call me when you get home?” He slowly nods, but he still isn’t leaving, “Yuta?”

And he steps a little closer, your breath catches, stuck in your lungs, as your chest squeezes when his fingers find your cheek, “Can I kiss you?” And your answer comes before you know it as you nod wordlessly.

His lips curl into a smile, as he leans closer and your noses bump, a small chuckle escaping your lips before his lips find yours.

It’s chaste, at first, until his lips find yours in a firmer kiss. He tastes faintly of the salt and butter of the popcorn he just had, and you can feel him smile against your lips, before you both part.

Your lips curl, “Well that is definitely something I never do with a friend,”

“You sure?” He murmurs and you hum, as your foreheads press against the other’s, as your fingers intertwine and you tug him inside your apartment.

“Maybe just the ones I really like.”

~~~

“You look happy,” Maki notes, as Yuta shows up early to work on a project for student government — it had been a few days since their first date, and Yuta had just gotten a text from you asking if he was coming over tonight. His lips quirked upwards as he told you he’d be there after he finished his work, as his eyes flitted up to find Maki’s, “don’t tell me you actually got the balls to ask her—“ and his eyes won’t quite meet her own, a smile on his lips, “fuck, don’t tell me—”

“We had our third date last night—” and he earns himself a hard punch to his shoulder, as he jolts, staring at Maki, “ow! Why—”

“Three dates and you tell me now?” and Yuta’s rubbing his shoulder, as he frowns, “what’s with the face? My punch didn’t hurt that bad,” she takes a seat, and leans back in her chair, as she rifles through the paperwork,

He shakes his head, “I wasn’t sure if I should be going around telling people — it’s new—”

“Wouldn’t you be happy to talk about your relationship?” And he’s hesitating, and Maki’s chair legs clack against the floor as she leans forward again, “what are you so scared of still?��

What was it that he was scared of? That it wouldn’t work out? That he’d lose you before he had even truly had you? That he’d hurt you? And it was true, he was scared of all of those things, but it wasn’t those things holding him back—

“I saw the way she talked about her ex, the smile she had when she would come off talking about him,” he leans against his hand, elbow propped up on the table, “she always had this smile on her face — just this look that I don’t think I’ve ever seen her have with me—“

“A look doesn’t make or break a relationship, Okkotsu,” Maki says with a sigh, “and she was already in that relationship for who knows how long at that point?”

“I know, but—“

“I can’t tell you how to run your relationship but you have to decide whether you’re in this or not — because if you keep comparing yourself, you’ll never be happy,” and Yuta nods, before glancing at her, “what?”

“How do you know so much about this?” Maki crosses her arms, a slight blush on her cheeks.

“You’re not the only one with a social life—“ but she cuts him off before he can ask more questions, “but this is about you, not me,” she leans forward, “you need to focus on your relationship now, not her old one,”

And he nods — he needed to trust you, otherwise this would never work with his head stuck in the past or looking into the future. Otherwise, this insecurity would seep like poison into his present — and he would lose you anyway.

“You’re right, thanks Maki,” and his phone goes off again, another text from you — I miss you — come soon.

Maybe he just needed to trust you — and himself. But even so, as he typed his reply to you — I’ll pick up dinner on the way. I’ll be back soon. Promise — but why was it so difficult?

~~~

“Ah, Yu,” you murmured against his lips before swallowing your words completely, you were even prettier breathless than he had imagined. Well, more like than he had dreamt. He had resisted the urge to fantasize about you, thinking it would be disrespectful, crossing a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed. But that didn’t mean he could control his subconscious when he would slip into the embrace of sleep.

He’d see you beside him on the couch, and you’d lean over and simply find his lips as if you’d done it a million times before. And he’d melt into your touch with such practiced ease, his fingers skimming over your sides, and he was desperate for more, more, more. He would only slide his hands up your thighs, fingertips brushing against the fabric of your panties before he’d wake in sweat soaked sheets and his cock straining against his boxers.

This was so much better.

It had started on the couch just like his dream, the two of you lying together, cuddling on the couch as the two of you half watched a movie.

“Are you sleepy?” He asked softly, tucking a strand behind your ear, and you shake your head, as you shift closer to him, half of your body pressed against him. He did his best not to shift much, as you move even closer to him, nearly lying on top of him, “what—“

His breath catches as you lean closer, “can I—“ and he’s nodded without a second thought, as your lips found his, and his fingers found your hips. His tongue grazed the seam of your lips before slipping inside, and he eagerly steals your breath from your very lungs. And you’re moving, now lying squarely on top of him, your hips pressed against his, as his already hard cock throbs against your cunt.

He bites back a moan when he feels just how wet you already are, soaking through your shorts and drenching his sweatpants, “Fuck,” he murmurs, as your lips both part for a breath, as he cups your chin, only to press hot kisses to your burning skin, “baby, you taste so good,”

And that’s where he found himself now.

Your tiny gasps and murmurs of his name, as his lips explored what skin he could reach, while his hands slid up and down your body, now warm palms resting above your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Yuta, please,” the whine in your throat makes the heat grow thicker been you two, the movie fading into but white noise, as he cards his fingers through your hair, “don’t tease me,”

And he’s swallowing thickly, his dick twitching at the thought of taking this further — the two of you had done everything but this step, your hands had grazed under the other’s clothes, grinded against each other as you made out, but one of you would end up stopping it for one reason or another. It was a game of chicken, one or the other seemingly daring the other to take that step — but neither of you had.

But now — as his thumb dragged over your puffy, kiss ruined lips, “Do you want to?” he asks an unspoken question, his resistance weakening to your touches, your fingers ghosting up his chest before one of your hands finds his cheek.

“I do,” you answer, but bite your lip, “I’m just…a little nervous,” and his lips press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“We can always wait — I never want to make you feel uncomfortable, baby,” he’s featherlight in his touches now, “it’s up to you,” and it was — he would wait for you, as long as you wanted him.

You smile at him, finding his lips in another kiss — he didn’t know it was possible for someone to be this soft, or feel this good — he could taste the sweetness of ice cream you had ate earlier on your lips, but you were so much better than any dessert.

Your fingers rake gently through his hair, “Let’s move to the bedroom?”

~~~

You wanted Yuta — you did. You had for the weeks the two of you had dated. It had been almost two months, and the two of you hadn’t had sex yet. There wasn’t a reason to rush, but there wasn’t a reason not to. The line had been edged to the brink of insanity — for the both of you. There was always seemingly a reason to stop — an early class, a late night, stomach upset — and it always felt like timing was just off. But it wasn’t always just the timing.

It was also you.

Every time you and Yuta got close, each time you felt even an ounce of pleasure, the guilt of Suguru would claw up your throat, again and again. And you were sure Yuta had noticed. But even if he had, you didn’t know a way to explain without making him think you were still in love with Suguru — which you weren’t.

You didn’t think you were. The guilt lingered, like blood dried from a still open wound, scabbed over but not healed, easily reopened with even a scratch or a step. And it felt like with each step you took away from Suguru, you bled more and more — but you didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. You couldn’t stem the bleeding at its source, not when the person you had cut it open didn’t even give you a chance to speak.

And you couldn’t talk to Yuta about it — not when you still hadn’t explained who Suguru is — and what exactly he does for work. Or much of anything else and you didn’t even know how to begin that conversation or why it would be necessary. Does he need to know all of that when you would be graduating soon enough and Suguru would be only a distant memory.

But you hoped Yuta wouldn’t be.

Your fingers laced with his as you led him to your bedroom — as you pull him inside, shutting the door behind you. You gently guide him onto your bed and have him sit while you stand, your fingers cupping his face, as his breath hitches at your proximity. His lips parted ever so slightly, as a pretty pink settled over his cheeks.

“Baby, are you sure?” His lips are half twisting in a frown, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again, “I don’t want—“

And your lips find his in a soft kiss, pressing yourself between his legs, as your hands find purchase on his shoulders, “I want you, Yuta,” you murmur, you were tired of letting the past dictate your present — you wanted to move forward, “don’t you want me too?” And your lips ghost over his jaw up to his ear, as you whisper in it, while leaving kisses that make his body shiver, wondering if you’ve turned his blood to ice or made it turn to steam with how his skin burned.

“You’re not playing fair” he mumbles, as he buries your face in the crook of your neck, and you laugh, your fingers skimming the back of his neck.

“I’m here to win, we never said anything about fair,” you twirl the black locks resting against his neck, your lips press another kiss to his cheekbone, “you still haven’t answered my question—“

“Of course I want you,” he looks up at you, his need like a spark catching fire on your body, “I always have,”

“Well I’m right here,” you murmur, you tilt his chin up, fingers threaded in his black locks, “what are you going to do about it?”

~~~

Yuta was going to lose his mind — but it’s just as well, you already had his heart.

At your words, he’s tugging you even closer as he moves back on the bed, gaze hot as he watches you move, sitting on his lap — knees on either side of his waist. Fuck, you felt so good against him, plush thighs pressing into his hands already sliding down your lower back and grazing your ass to press you impossibly closer.

“Good boy,” you murmur, and his blood flees his cheeks to his cock, twitching against your clothed cunt, and you smirk, a giggle escaping your lips, “you like that, huh?” you breath against his ear, “my good boy,”

And in an instant, you’re pinned under him, and you’re blinking up at him, smile exchanged for parted lips, as his hands slide up your sides, and he’s leaning down to kiss you. His mouth burns against yours, tongue teasing the seam of your lips, before they part for him.

“Now who’s being good for who?” he murmurs, as he pulls back with your teeth catching his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans, grinding against you, the length of his cock grinding against your clothed slit, “you won't let me have a moment, can you?” He murmurs, a red flush on his cheeks that makes you grin.

“Not as long as you’re with me, Yu,” and god, that nickname for him makes his head spin— it’s already so much — the picture of you spread so prettily for him, your thighs parted under him, shirt riding up, just asking for him to slide underneath, and your bodies pressed together in all of the right places, as if neither of you could get close enough.

And apparently you couldn’t, as you guide his hands to the hem of your shirt, and you’re helping him pull it over your head before tossing it onto the floor. And he sees nothing underneath, your nipples pebbled and hard under his gaze, so pretty for him.

When his fingers twitch, you chuckle, “touch me,” and your words melt away his reservations, as his hands find your breasts, warm palms squeezing and teasing the soft flesh. He leans down and presses a kiss to one of your pert nipples, his tongue flicking the pert bud, drawing a small gasp from your lips, a pretty noise he wants to make fall from your lips again and again. Your head falls back into your pillow, as he switches sides, teasing the one with his lips, while he rolls the other between his index and thumb.

“Fuck, Yuta,” he smiles against you, as his lips begin to kiss down your body, starting with the valley of your breasts before trailing wet kisses down your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts. And his eyes are flicking up to meet yours to ask silently, and your nod is all it takes for his fingers to dip in and tug the thin fabric down your legs, fingers dragging along the dips and curves of your legs as he does. He bends down to steal kisses to your swell of your hips and the crown of your knee.

“S’pretty,” he’s mumbling, as his eyes find the wet patch on your underwear, fabric messy and soaked through as it cling helplessly to your hard clit, “how are you this pretty, baby?”

“All for you, sweet boy,” you’re murmuring, as you hiss when he’s teasing your clit through your panties, “Yu, fuck—“ he could cum just listening to you — he doesn’t know what he’ll do once he’s inside you—

But one step at a time.

He’s leaning down to press a kiss to it, before he’s slipping two fingers into the elastic to tug it down, with a nod from you. He’s pressing kisses and nips to your inner thigh, relishing in the marks he leaves on you — ones that he and you would only see. And finally you’ve kicked your underwear off, fully bare for him.

“How do you smell so sweet?” he’s whispering, as his eyes drag over your exposed folds, and a whimper escapes your lips, he can’t wait to make you moan. And he’s bending down to drag his tongue over your dripping cunt, a thick stripe that has you gasping, fingers winding their way into his black locks, nails digging deliciously into his scalp.

And you taste even better than he imagined — so good that he's already lapping at your folds, tip of his tongue flicking over your clit — and he hears the wrinkle of the sheets as your toes curl into them. He’s rutting into your mattress, ready to cum in his boxers at how good your pussy feels — dick nearly bursting at the thought of having your cunt around him.

“Fuck, baby,” you’re swearing under your breath, as your body tenses under his tongue, he begins to slurp at your juices. His hands find their way under the soft flesh of your thighs to tug you flush to his lips, “Yu, so good,” and all he can hear are the lewd sounds of his tongue buried in your pussy, working your walls open, pretty walls fluttering around him, “feel so good, ngh, ah—” your eyes find his, and it’s enough for him to blow his load then and there — eyes blown out with lust as they meet his own, your lips parted in lovely pants and moans.

And he knows you’re close, can feel it in the way your walls shudder, and he’s burying himself in your cunt, fucking you open with his tongue while he rubs your clit in quick circles.

“Yu, I’m cum—“ and you cut yourself off with a moan, back arching as you cum hard, his name on your lips, and he’s eating you out through your orgasm, greedily drinking every bit of release you give him. And it’s only when it’s too much, your body slightly shaking, as you gently pull at his hair, that he eases off.

You watch him with half lidded eyes as he pulls away, still between your thighs — lips and chin glossy and drenched in your release. He licks his lips and chin clean, watching you come down from your high, fuck, the way your walls clench around nothing makes him want to bury his face back in your folds.

“So good, Yu, s’good for me,” you’re panting, sweat slicked against your skin, as you’re gently tugging at him, and he obliges, keening at the praise as he slips up your body until your lips find his. You moan, tasting yourself on his lips, a sloppy, messy kiss that leaves him breathless.

And you’re flipping you both over, his eyes dilating at the sight of you, eyes raking over his body, eager hands thumbing at the hem of his shirt.

Your lips in a smirk that leaves his dick throbbing, “my turn, Yu, let me make you feel good,”your hands make quick work of his shirt, tugging it up and over, tossing it in the growing pile of clothes in the corner of your bedroom.

Your lips press sweet kisses all over his chest, fingers teasing his chest, but you have bigger intentions in mind, as your fingers quickly find their way to the waistband of his sweatpants. And with a nod given, you’re deftly tugging it down with a raise of his hips to pull the fabric off and kicked away, leaving him only in his boxers.

You bite your lip when you see the large wet patch from his pre, your fingers teasing his slit through the fabric, drawing a hiss from his lips. He swallows, watching your pretty lips bend down to press a kiss to his cock through the fabric. And it’s enough for him to lose his mind completely, “please,” he whimpers, and you smile down at him, dragging your thumb down his lips.

“Please what?” you ask innocently, for someone whose fingers were grazing his erection the way they were, he swallows as he watches your finger trace up and down his clothes cock, “what do you want me to use? My hand? My mouth?”

And he’s shaking his head, “Anything, just please I need—“ and your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers, snapping it against his skin, a yelp escaping his lips that makes you giggle, “that’s not nice—“ and he’s gasping when your lips press a hot kiss to his hip, your eyes lidded with desire.

“Who said I was nice?”

~~~

You were going to be the death of him, and with the way your fingers tug down his boxers — finally freeing his cock, slapping against his stomach as it does — it would be a sweet death.

“Didn’t know your cock was so pretty like the rest of you, Yu,” and it was, so long and thick, pearly precum dripping down his flushed length, veins that ran up and down the length that you were far too eager to trace, “can’t wait to taste you,” you’re murmuring, as your tongue flicks down against his slit.

“B-baby, please,” his hand is covering his face, but you reach up to pry it away, seeing the lovely red that settled over his cheeks, lips parted in need as he painted, “please—“

And your fingers wrap around his dick, thumbing the slit and working the precum up and down his length. And he’s moaning your name on his lips again and again, as you kiss his tip sliding your fingers down to his base and squeezing. And when your lips part for him, sliding his length in your mouth, his head falls back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut as he can’t help but roll his hips into your mouth. And when his tip brushes the back of your throat, it’s enough for him to cum right then and there, but he doesn’t want to — not yet, not until he’s inside you.

He’s easing you off, watching strings of pre and your spit connect you to his aching cock, as you look up at him, and he’s pulling you into a messy kiss, tasting his own pre on your lips.

“I need you,” he’s murmuring, fingers finding your hips, “baby, please,”

You smile, parting from him, “how do you need me?” And he’s swallowing, cock twitching, and he knows he’s one stroke too fast from bursting — so he needs control.

“Lie on the bed, baby,” and you do, easing from between his legs, and onto your back, head against the plush pillows. He parts your legs for you, warm palms squeezing your flesh teasingly, drawing a whine from you, he presses your thighs up, letting them hook around his back, as his skin meets yours. And god, you’re perfect, “how did I get so lucky? You’re so perfect, so pretty,” and he’s slotting himself between your thighs, fingers lining up his cock with your dripping slit, his curiosity getting the better of him as he drags the head up your messy folds still slick with your release, and groans as he watches your walls flutter around nothing, “so good for me, are you ready, baby?”

You’re nodding, “please Yu, I need—” and his tip is sliding into you, his length stretching your walls far too well, and it’s enough for him to cum right there — as your cunt adjusts to his size, dragging against you as he pushes past your entrance. It’s enough for him to cum right there, but he wants it to be good for you both — wants you to hear you praise him again, wants to hear you say his name again and again until you fall apart on his cock.

And finally he’s bottoming out, a moan from both of your lips, your walls fluttered around his length, your head lolls back a moment, before your eyes flutter open and meet his, “S’good, Yu, please, move,” and he’s cupping your cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, before he begins to fuck you slowly.

The echoes of your skin meeting his rings in hie ears, needy walls pulling you back in even as he tried to pull out, sinking deeper and deeper each time he fucked you.

He’s burning, ready to melt at your very touch, putty in your hands to bend and shape at your will, even as you swallow him whole, he’s ready for you to consume every inch of him with your being.

“Feels s’good, Yuta,” you’re moaning, legs around his hips pulling him impossibly closer, “such a good boy,” and his cock twitches, your mixed releases forming a ring around the base of his length, “s’good, need more,”

And he’s groaning, as your wet squelches fill the silence between both of your moans and pants — and you’re close, as he gives a particularly deep thrust that finds the spot that has you seeing stars. Your head falls back, lips parted in his name, “Yu, I’m close — ngh, please—“ and he’s smiling, his cheeks surely flushed blood red, panting, as he reaches between your bodies to find your clit.

“Cum f’me, baby,” he’s murmuring, and you’re nodding, as you fall apart for him, toes curling as you cum hard around him, making him groan your name as he spills his warm seed inside you, pumping slowly as he does. His body slows as you both come down from your highs, and he slowly rolls off of you, running fingers through your hair and pressing sweet kisses, “are you okay?” he murmurs, eyes soft with affection, but laced with concern.

You smile, “I’m more than okay,” you press your face into his chest, and he’s shivering at your touch, pulling you even closer, “I’m with you,” and his fingers run up and down your cheek, before leaning down to meet your lips in a soft kiss.

That’s right, he smiles as he kisses your forehead — he was with you. And the past didn’t matter — when he was in your present.

“I’ll always be with you,” he mutters against your lips.

And hopefully in your future.

~~~

“What are you doing, I thought you were almost done,” Yuta mumbles against the soft skin of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that did nothing but sap the need for productivity from your very veins — leaving only behind thoughts of his touch behind, “baby,”

“Yu, I promise I’m almost done, I just have to send this email about my thesis and you’ll have my undivided attention,” you both had been stuck in the end of the semester rush, trying to find time for each other — leaving you stressed out and Yuta a little needy. That’s what this night was supposed to be for — a chance to reconnect, and yet here you were working. But you had to send this thesis out or you knew Yaga would have your head for delaying your work on your outline for so long — something you would be spending next semester fleshing out into a full thesis you’d be presenting.

He nods, but continues to pepper you with kisses, your skin nearly molten under his touch as his arms wrap around your waist to pull you further into his lap instead of beside him on the couch, “After all the work I did to snag Professor Yaga as my thesis advisor, I cannot let the department head down with my draft,”

He hums, vibrations making you nearly shiver, “I know, I’m really proud of you. I know you’re going to have something really special by the end of the year,” and you shake your head.

“I just hope I make it past the defense — it’s the most nerve wracking part,” you sigh, “a room of my peers and professors staring me down while I discuss the work I’ve done,” you proof read the email for the millionth time — scanning for any errors and make sure the attachment is the correct attachment — and finally click send, and sigh before relaxing into his arms.

“Can I come to your defense?” Yuta asks, perking up, and you smile, leaning back against him.

“Are you sure you’d want to come? It’s going to be just me rambling about my thesis and answering a bunch of questions,” you kiss his jaw softly, nosing the small hickey you left blooming on his pale skin last night, “might not be the most exciting thing,”

“I want to support you, as long as you want me there,” and you can’t help but wonder — would Suguru show up to your defense? The thought makes your stomach churn at the thought of them watching you present, eyes flitting from one to the other. You had doubts he would show himself there — but the only catch was if Yaga would twist his arm. And then what? You had nearly blown your relationship wide open once before when you had ran into Suguru in front of Yuta—

You couldn’t risk it again.

“Let me think about it, ok?” You nuzzle your nose against his cheek, as he frowns, “I just think if I have you there, I might get too nervous—“

He shakes his head, “Whatever makes you comfortable, either way, we’re going to celebrate right after,” and you tilt your head.

“What if I don’t pass?” And he shakes his head.

“If hell freezes over, I think we’ll have bigger problems,” and you snort, “but on the very off chance you don’t, you still accomplished something incredible—“ and your lips find his, and he melts into your kiss after a moment.

“Thank you,” you whisper, “I’m so lucky to have you,” and he curls his lips into a sweet smile.

“I’m the lucky one,” and his lips press against yours this time, meeting yours again and again, until you’re placing your laptop aside, and turning to sit in his lap, “baby,” heat rolls off his body in waves, as your fingers trace down his chest.

“I heard someone wanted my undivided attention tonight,” you smile, before taking your phone and placing it on ‘do not disturb,’ “well now what are you going to do with it?”

He smiles, “Don’t know if we’ll have enough time for everything, but,” he presses a kiss to your jaw, “we can try,” and the two of you are making your way to the bedroom soon enough, unaware that you had gotten an important email that night—

From: Suguru Geto

Subject Line: Regarding Your Thesis Advisor

~~~

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you’re adjusting your hair as you sprint your way to Professor Yaga’s office. This is what you get for staying up far too late with your far too tempting boyfriend. And now you woke up thirty minutes before the meeting, with barely enough time to make it on time, much less breath. Yuta gave you a kiss goodbye, but that’s all he had time for — before you were out the door.

But you finally reached Yaga’s door, catching your breath when you took a second to regain your composure before knocking. You blinked — weird, his door was usually open. And the door opens, but it isn’t Yaga—

It’s Suguru?

It’s Suguru.

You stare at him, wondering if this is another twisted nightmare you had ensnared yourself in, but no — it isn’t. Because even your subconscious couldn’t make a scenario this twisted. His lips parted to say something, but you beat him to it.

“If you’re meeting with Professor Yaga, I can come back at a different time, Professor,” the title slips from your lips without barely a thought, but it carries far too much weight. A flicker of emotion catches on the corner of his lips and in the glint of his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“You’re on time, but I still you did not have the time to check your email before this meeting,” he tilts his head, as you blink slowly, “please come in and have a seat,”

And you do, taking a seat across from him as he sits on the other side of the desk, you shift in your seat, as you take him in for the first time in months — his hair was still long, black tresses brushing against his shoulders, hair half up in a neat bun near the crown of his head; his eyes tucked behind his glasses for once, but you could see the burgeoning beginnings of dark bags under his eyes; and his clothes were meticulous as always — and you spot the tie pin he has — it’s the one you had gifted him near the beginning of your relationship — a joke that you had made about pinning him down in class turned into a gift.

And that makes your neck feel all the more bare.

“Is Professor Yaga ok?” and Suguru sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

“He’s fine, he is sick at the moment — and receiving treatment,” you sigh in slight relief, “so he’s decided to take the rest of this semester off, as well as next semester,” and you sigh, leaning back as you cover your lips with your hand.

“Is he going to be—”

“He has a good prognosis, and his son’s with him, looking after him, so it should be fine,” he says softly, and his lips curl in a small smile, as he flips through the papers on Yaga’s desk.

“What’s with the smile?” and he shakes his head, as he rifles through the stacks of paperwork, until he seemingly finds what he’s looking for.

“Nothing, just noticing that your habit of worrying about others before yourself hasn’t changed,” and you glare slightly at him, pursing your lips, as he slides a stapled stack of papers to you.

“And what’s this—”

“Your thesis proposal,” and you take it, flipping through and grimacing at the red pen, “and my thoughts on it,” you scoff, as you see the familiar picture of his scribbles and notes in the margins of your work.

“It looks like old habits die hard for the both of us,” as you finish flipping through, but your brow knits together as the pieces of news start to fit together like a puzzle — with a very mortifying picture, and your eyes meet his, slowly — the news going as well over as a lead balloon, and crashing down on your head like one, “so does this mean—”

His lips curl in a small smile, “I’ll be taking over as your thesis advisor — for the rest of the year.”

✧ a/n: it was supposed to be the last part and now! we have. one more part since i decided i wanted to flesh out the final arc a little more! one more part of this and it will be all done...:)

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot , @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri i , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries

#sab [mlist]#sab series [prof suguru]#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x you #geto x reader #suguru geto fanfiction #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu fanfiction #geto suguru x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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tteokdoroki · 3 months

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THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.

✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.

✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel? TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back.

you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.

to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.

one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work.

that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.

but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him.

the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much.

he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think.

there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.

the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.

nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together.

especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.

still, nanami stayed.

and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window.

you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick.

you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.

ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace.

with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious.

ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami.

like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time.

you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you.

taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.

if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute.

“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk.

you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.

nanami likes you.

and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?

he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?”

the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol.

“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.” the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.”

nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”

“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him.

but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.”

you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“

“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”

both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.

“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.”

“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper.

nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?”

having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!”

“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.

“then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.”

the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?”

you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.”

“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”

“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…”

“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin.

gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”

nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles.

“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

your kiss under the mistletoe.

once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo, kids,” he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy.

leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss.

you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.

“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss.

the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami.

ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.

“good morning, kento!”

“good morning to you too,”

bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event.

picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.

one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office.

and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia.

now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper.

“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time.

he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.

“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.

after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.

elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you — happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents.

“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.

the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home.

the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to.

there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.

your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift.

he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you.

you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him?

“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.

“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.”

you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.”

“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“

“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.”

“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”

“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.”

“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle.

ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.

as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.

satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly — his staff.

which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions.

of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays.

you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all.

when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.

rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.

“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.”

“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice.

he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?

despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“

“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?”

you blink back your suprise. “w-what?”

“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”

“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.”

“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.”

your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?”

“pardon?”

“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.

you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.

…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up.

“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.”

he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”

the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?”

he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady.

nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart.

“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.”

still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”

“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“

“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.”

your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve.

after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple.

somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together.

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lqfiles · 16 days

Text

✰ dating lee mark.

a companion for life.

dating mark comes with an unspoken loyalty towards you. mark would root for you no matter, even if you aren’t aware that he is. he’d do everything in his capacity to make sure that life goes your way, because mark wants to see you thrive and be happy. whether it be opportunities or any other events in your life, mark would attempt to help you out in whatever way he can. doing research on work fields that you’re interested in during his free time and coincidentally bringing up how there is a job near your place that you could apply for. or, you could complain to mark on the phone how it had started being burdensome to get up in the mornings and prepare your stuff, and wake up the next day to a small note and a lunch box on your kitchen counter that mark had placed there for you, encouraging words written on them. if no one is on your side, you know that at least mark is.

attempting a new lifestyle (just for you).

mark is someone who has a set routine in life, a schedule that he follows daily. he’s a person who knows what he does and doesn’t like, but with you, he doesn’t think a little change can hurt. mark would rarely have the time to go out and enjoy the outside world. you on the other hand, love to explore, which is how mark finds himself getting dragged by the hand as you show him your favourite places. mark, who is scared of heights, but would let you lead him to the top of a building because you like the view up there. he knows he doesn’t enjoy the taste of ketchup, yet he’d keep quiet and let you feed him the french fries drizzled in it. mark who’s world revolves around his work and work ethic doesn’t think he’d mind making space for your world in his own.

nonchalant jealousy.

anyone can point out when mark is jealous. it would start with prolonged stares towards you, a hidden confusion in his eyes as he flashes you a small smile from across the room. walking over towards you before interrupting whatever conversation you were having with the person across you. inching closely towards you, before draping an arm around you shoulder, introducing himself towards the stranger. tugging you away with an excuse along the words of ‘having to show you something’. a nervous laughter as he’d ask you “is that your friend? i’ve never seen him.” by now it’s hard for you to hold back your laughter and you’d have to assure mark that nothing was going on. you can hear the sigh of relief under his breath before another more playful chuckle leaves him. yes, mark was jealous, he’d never admit it though.

how he asked you out.

mark most likely wouldn’t even realise at first that he is crushing on you, only when one of his friends points out how he is not-so-subtly glancing at you every minute with the suggestion that perhaps he might have a thing for you, would it click in his head that “damn, i do have a crush on you”. mark would try to impress you a lot and flatter you without directly telling you that he likes you. by doing so, he’d observe your reactions and slowly build up the courage to ask you out on a date. he’d take you out to the fanciest restaurant he could find and treat you with more gifts afterwards, whatever your eyes land on, he’d immediately ask if you wanted it. the date would end with him driving you back home, asking you if you enjoyed the date. he’d confess right then and there that he’d love to go on a second date if you’d like it too. fortunately for him, you’re crushing on him just as much as he is on you!

kisses.

kissing mark feels like having your breath taken away from you as his kisses always have an underlying passion to it. he’d cave in softly at first, testing the waters and getting the both of you comfortable. his hand would rest under your chin as he’d tug you to himself. the kiss grows more passionate after a while, proximity closing between you two. you’d think the room was burning with the warmth that travels through your body as mark deepens the kiss, his arms around your body by now pressing you against him. his kisses taste like sweet love and desperate lust. you’d think its because mark hasn’t seen you for a while, but instead its because he just can’t help himself when it comes to you. mark’s love for you shows through the heated kiss shared between you two that feels like it lasts the whole night, and quite frankly, neither of would want the intimate moment to end anytime soon.

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stairain · 2 months

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Conditioned response

You knew training someone like a dog wasn't the most ethical, but Spencer just makes it too easy to pass up.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, Mean reader, conditioning, forced orgasm, cumming in pants, dry orgasm, crying, begging, manipulation, ropes.

WC: 1.2K

Training Spencer to cum on command was a labor of love. Having spent hours studying Pavlov and Skinner just to be able to make a mess of your poor boyfriend on whim.

Spencer was almost unrecognizable, his face a deep shade of red and pink, slathered in a dripping layer of sweat, and a puddle of his own spend at his feet.

Throwing his head back and swallowing breathlessly, he looks to you and pleads.

“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please?”

His rug burned wrists desperately trembling in their binds as he tries so hard to be good for you. It’s wearing him down, you’ve made him cum at least three times now simply by the snap of your fingers.

It wasn’t this easy at first, and it didn’t even register what you were doing when you finally gave him permission to cum and just so happened to snap at the same time.

No, it took a while. After the next few times, it confused him, he ignored it, but then it became an expectation to him.

Whenever your hand was tightly wound against the sensitive tip of his dripping cock, he’d look to you with those desperate pleading eyes before mustering up the courage to beg for release.

After he’d ask, he wouldn’t wait for your call, no, instead he’d look down at wherever your free hand was.

As a man of extensive knowledge, especially to things pertaining something as simple as conditioning, Spencer knew these things worked.

He just hadn’t even expected himself to be the lab rat in your little experiment.

But now, you’d find him adjusting just fine. At least to your standards.

As soon as he arrived home, you had dragged him to the garage. He’d made no attempt to stop you, even as you sat him down on a cold metal chair.

He didn’t even raise an eyebrow when you began to tie him to aforementioned chair.

Spencer knew better than to question you, and he knew better than to speak without being spoken to. So when he dared open his mouth to talk, you’d quickly snapped your fingers, the sound reverberating through the empty, cold garage.

Whatever word he tried to say had been quickly replaced with a weak whimper. You let out a small huff of amusement, you’d expected this.

The dull brown cotton of his slacks were out to get him, he was convinced. You’d had enough of an ego boost knowing he just came untouched, but as the light fabric began to darken as it soaked with semen, you just couldn’t help yourself.

“Look at you, making a mess so easily.”

You almost scoff, your words taunting and mean. This was your own doing, how could you possibly blame him for this? But you did anyways, and he hung his head in shame as he tried to ignore the sticky spend seeping into his briefs.

“I-I’m sorry, couldn’t help it.”

It’s recommended to ask for permission before you beg for forgiveness, but you made sure he’d never be able to attempt the former.

“Tell me what you know about counterconditioning, Spence.”

You say as you crouch down in front of him, granting the littlest bit of kindness as you start to undress him and rid him of his soiled clothes.

The brunet stumbles over his words at first, but answers nonetheless.

“I-It’s a way to reverse the effects of classical conditioning, associating a set conditioned response—“

You snap. He cums.

Spencer almost doubles over in shock as he shoots another load of sticky seed into his pants.

“With another un—fuck—unconditioned stimulus.”

You nod as you pull his cum drenched briefs and pants down his legs, and look up to him with eyes that render him absolutely useless.

“And how would I do that, to stop this?”

You emphasize your question with the swipe of your fingers across his slick covered tip. His thighs twitch around your head and he licks his lips, trying to take back what little composure he’s ever had.

“Y-You could do that–“ His eyes flicker down to where you’re touching his cock “A-And stop snapping. E-Eventually there won’t be an association between the stimuli.”

Spencer speaks with an urgency that’s only found in those who know they’re done for.

“But you don’t want that, do you?”

Your voice drips in a malicious seduction, tilting your head to the side as if to feign an innocence only he should have.

It doesn’t take more than a second for him to shake his head. Even with his cock aching and his thighs sticky, his need to obey you was stronger than the pain of his self.

So when you smile up at him, looking genuinely proud, it makes the ache worth it. He smiles back, albeit crooked and broken.

The moment doesn’t last long, of course it doesn’t. As soon as he saw you raise your hand and press your fingers together, his eyebrows wrung together and his thighs quickly shut.

It was fascinating, it was as if his body just couldn’t stop itself. Even as only a few spurts shot out of his throbbing cock. Thick white drops of cum dripped down the veiny shaft, falling all the day down his balls and onto the chair beneath him.

Spencer throws his head back and lets out a strained moan, one that was full of pain and little pleasure.

It hurt so badly, and he could barely keep up. You were simply torturing him because you could.

“I-I can’t, please.”

He begs, shaking his head when you stand up from your knelt position and look down on him like he was a filthy animal.

“I’ve only touched you once, and here you are cumming without my permission three times. How selfish.”

You degrade him, reducing him to the villain in the scenario. Tears begin to stream down his face and he can feel his heart twisting in his chest.

You’re right, he’s failed you more times than acceptable. He should feel ashamed.

“I-I know, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

Spencer practically sobs, his entire body trembles as it aches with the aftershocks of three forced orgasms.

A small huff expels from your nose and you shake your head. It was unfair, really, how easily manipulated he was.

It was your fault after all, but what was it worth if not the satisfaction of reducing this know-it-all of a man down to desperate pleads and animal-esque behavior?

You’ve got your hand held up behind your back, he knows it. He knows you too well to ever even entertain the idea you’d ever listen to him, but he’s hopeless enough to try anyways.

A sob wrecks through his throat and he feels as though he can barely breathe.

“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please? I-I can’t do this anymore.”

It’s cruel, the way you laugh in his face as he drowns in his tears. How foolish of him to even ask.

Maybe you were being a touch too cruel, but it was all worth it the moment you saw genuine fear fill his eyes and the slight shake of his head as he begged you one last time to end it.

But he knew better, and he couldn’t help himself as the hand behind your back echoed a snap right through his ears and out his length.

You see the way his mouth drops open in a shrill cry, and relish in the sight of nothing coming out of his poor cock in a torturous dry orgasm.

His body’s given you everything it possibly can, and yet, you just can’t help yourself.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer #sub spencer reid x reader #sub spencer #sub spencer reid smut #sub spencer reid x reader smut

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cursingtoji · 7 months

Text

ᥫ᭡ — EXECUTIVE AFFAIRS: In a cutthroat world of boardroom battles and power struggles, you must navigate ambition , corporate intrigue, and unexpected love affairs.

✧ PRELUDE

— contents: CEO!reader, construction worker!Toji, lawyer!Nanami, therapist!Geto, ex-husband!Gojo; power imbalance, sexual frustration, manipulation, use of 'darling', 'baby', 'dear' & 'boss', 4k words, on-going series

— note: osha is the occupational safety and health administration agency in the USA, even tho i'm not american seems easier to just say osha (also a fun word to pronunce)

A young man opens the rear door of the Jaguar as soon as your driver stops by the construction site, “This way ma’am” you accept his hand, touching the cement with your stiletto first before getting out of the vehicle.

As scheduled you are heading to a meeting with the architect responsible for this particular project, a big one. Normally the CEO wouldn’t be involved in such routine visits like this, but you definitely don’t want to be like the previous CEO, who barely stepped out of his office for anything.

Besides, you have to make a good impression with the other directors that would be there today as well, and what better way to do that if not going to the construction site yourself, even though you clearly do not belong there given the way your heel wobbled as soon as it touched the uneven ground.

“Excuse me, miss” you’re stopped by a man twice your size — horizontally and almost vertically — extending a white helmet in your direction, “I’m sure that hair costed a lot and you don’t wanna cover it, but every person on site, even the ladies, ‘gotta wear it.”

You stand a bit shocked at the man addressing you like it’s not your last name on his uniform.

“Mr. Fushiguro, I should inform you that it’s your CEO you’re talking to” the boy beside you speaks up, he’s wearing a white helmet and the unknown man a yellow one.

“Great, so you are able to afford the OSHA fine if they decide today is a good day for inspection, but I’d rather not have another pointless safety training just ‘cause no one had the balls to tell you to protect your pretty ‘lil head” his expression doesn’t change a bit with the new information. You find that respectable, especially having so many people stuttering when talking to you.

If you were to say that you don’t get even a little bit amused by people being nervous in your presence Nanami would have to warn you about perjury.

It’s quite a change to have a blue collar employee sticking to the rules and not batting an eye when the highest possible authority of the company is standing right in front of him, especially when that someone looks like he just got out of a sexy construction men calendar… not that you have ever seen one of those. That’s just what you think they might look like, plus that scar only adds up to fantasy.

You clean your throat, “I appreciate your work ethic, Mr. Fushiguro” you repeat the name so you won’t forget, “I wasn’t aware of the rules” you side-look the young man beside you who’s now staring at his own feet embarrassed since it was his duty to inform you.

“Call me Toji” you take the helmet and put it on, “By the way, you’re supposed to wear trousers too and… literally anything but that” he points with his chin to your high heels thinking how that alone was a safety hazard not just on a construction site. Toji leans closer “but I’ll let it slide, ‘cause you have quite beautiful legs.”

You are left mouth agape, internally appreciating that he didn’t say that out loud — after all being sexualized when you are trying to impose respect would require you to put a show and fire the man — but also makes you question if he was straight forward with you because of his work ethics or because he does not respect you as his superior.

Not that you wouldn’t let him do disrespectful things to you, but still!

You’re taken to where the rest of the directors are, they’re easy to spot — a bunch of men in suits that clearly don’t belong to the place — surrounding a table with the blue prints. They greet you and you realize this is the first time you see all of them around a table and not sitting, poor guys must be dying for a room with AC right now.

It’s not like you belonged there either, with your tailor made beige suit that had a pencil skirt instead of the newly-discovered-necessary trousers and how-the-fuck-you-thought-that-was-a-good-idea high heels. But in your own defense you did visit a lot of construction sites when you first started at the company all those years ago and that’s much more than the white collar men in front of you can say.

The main architect starts to give you all an status of the project being interrupted by the senior engineer every few minutes, the last one clearly thinking he’s better than the first even though neither of them lifts a finger in this ground.

Your sight is drawn to the man that scolded you before, while the architect is pointing to something on top of the construction and everyone else is shielding their eyes from the sun to find it, you’re looking straight ahead to Toji who’s currently lifting an apparently very heavy sack of cement on his shoulder and taking it all across the site. God, he’s strong.

His handsome face shines with sweat, you’re sure the wife beater he has on also violates some OSHA code, but who would be crazy enough to report that? Not you for sure, the view is worth the OSHA fine.

Especially when he drops the sack with a grunt and uses the shirt to wipe his face, revealing a torso you’re sure Michelangelo would die to use as inspiration to sculpt into marble then having people saying ‘whoa that’s real art’.

You wonder if someone would scream at you for touching that piece of art.

Unfortunately you don’t expect to get caught ogling by the subject himself. So the best thing you can do is find whatever the architect is pointing to and pretend to pay attention like you should have from the beginning instead of eye fucking one of your employees.

“Hey, boss” you hear on your way out of the site and back to your cozy office where you wouldn’t get your ankle broken that easily. You turn around and see Toji catwalking his way to you.

“Technically I'm out of the hazard zone, mr. Fushiguro” you justify your lack of a helmet which you ditched a few seconds ago.

“Toji” he corrects you, taking his own helmet off “and I’m not this uptight, unlike some people here today” he mutters the last part looking behind him to some of the directors that seemed to be looking for tiny errors on the project so they could fix it and justify being there.

“Well, what can I do for you?”

“I’m pretty sure you're being robbed.”

“What?” you look around, “What do you mean?”

“You’re paying for double the stuff that’s actually being delivered” he took a sheet of folded paper out of his pants, you reach for it but he pulls it back, “I have proof and I can say names.”

“Did you say that to your field supervisor?”

“Please, who do ya think it’s signin’ under this?” he rolls his eyes.

“So you came to the CEO instead? You’re going behind some big backs here, sir.”

“Look, miss, I want a promotion, I know a lot of big shots will go down for this and I’m the only one capable of handling the people here. Besides I stand by what I said before, no one has the guts to do this so I’m taking a big risk and I deserve compensation” he hands back the paper and this time he let you take it. You stare into his deep green eyes suspiciously, the man has the looks of a fantasy villain with his sharp features and dark eyelashes, you're not entirely sure if you should believe him.

“Give your number to my assistant, we’ll schedule a meeting in the office, you tell me everything you know and I see what I can do about it.”

“In the office? Didn’t know you allowed commonores in your castle” he smirks.

“Only the pretty ones” you wink and his smile grows wider.

“How long have you known about this?” Nanami questions.

“Not even 24 hours” you sit on your white couch signing for him to take the seat in front of you.

Your lawyer does that thing you find really hot where he unbuttons the coat of his five digit worth suit before sitting down. You admire Nanami’s elegance while he roams his eyes through the paper, he has a vest between the coat and the dress shirt. Navy blue suits him so well, matches his eyes. He makes you think every man should wear vests, but of course not every man can pull it off. Honestly, you find it hard to believe there's anything Nanami can’t pull off, but you haven't seen your lawyer without a suit… ever.

Maybe he looks bad with a plain T-shirt?

No way.

Perhaps with an overall and cowboy hat?

Mmm the image makes you wanna ride something.

What about emo hair, eyeliner and a band tee?

No, you can’t imagine Kento with emo hair, no chance he had a rebellious phase except if his parents wanted him to be a surgeon and he became the best lawyer in the city just to piss them off.

“I’m glad you came to me first, but we’ll need to involve auditing and probably internal affairs. That’ll probably put the project on hold for some weeks, also I’ll need more evidence than this” he shook the one paper sheet that was merely a quotation of supplies even you could understand is way too much for a single building.

“I got the guy for that, say the word and Yuuta will arrange a meeting” you pointed to your assistant sitting outside.

“Tell me, dear” he put the sheet aside, taking that posture that intimidated you a bit, “A blue collar worker just saw your pretty self on the site and handed criminal evidence? Just like that?”

You open your mouth, thinking what to say that won’t sound like you are being taken advantage of, and failing.

“Oh darling” he says a bit too condescendingly for someone that technically works for you, “Thought I told you about being too naive” he leans on the couch, making himself comfortable like you’re about to have The Talk.

“Kento, is not like that” you cross your arms defensively, “He said he wants a promotion, how risky that would be?”

“Thought you would say that” he takes his phone and hands it to you, “So I did my own little research.”

“What’s this?” you find yourself looking at a picture of the man you met yesterday.

Only now you could see tiny numbers behind him indicating his height and he held a plaque with his name. He looks way younger, still very handsome, you wonder how popular he used to be in his youth, with a face like that and the implication he was arrested was enough to make every girl’s bad-boy-dream come true.

“What was he accused of?” you ask out of curiosity.

“Not relevant, also sealed records” he breaks eye contact and that’s enough for you to understand he actually knows it and he did not get this information by any legal means.

“So what? The man got a bit of trouble with the law when he was young” you shrug, remembering even your ex husband had a little rich boy “criminal” file, if you can even call the dumb shit he did outta spite for his parents an actual crime.

“HR will find out about this, then you’re going to have to justify why you’re recommending a filled man for a managing position.”

“And I’ll tell them he actually found out about a theft scheme and whatever public-pissing crime he did will surely be overlooked.”

“Darling, you have to start thinking about your image, we’ve been through that before” he tilts his head.

“You don’t like my image?” you question playfully twirling your hair, Nanami smiles for a brief second.

“You know what I mean: your image towards the board, you barely made the votes necessary to be where you are today.”

Indeed, you owned the company and no one could take that away, but the CEO position needed to be voted and you only got the necessary votes because your ex-husband had the strongest voting rights and part of the divorce agreement was that he voted for you, so his, plus a few more other members of the board's votes and you made chief executive officer.

“Fine, then write a contract, he tells everything including testify if he has to in exchange of the supervisor position and I’ll pitch it to the board before any decisions are made” you uncross your arms raising from your seat.

Bringing the board into the conversation made you nervous, most of them don't like you and you’ve been trying to prove yourself for months. Even though you worked your ass off way before marrying the owner all they saw was a hurt ex-wife making pretend.

“Atta girl” Nanami raises too, buttoning his coat back and placing his hands on your tense shoulders. Nanami smells like what you think it should be every handsome lawyer's trademark scent, cause damn that smell would make you sign anything he gives you.

“Don’t worry much, you’re doing great” he presses a bit and you melt.

“Take me out to lunch?” you pout.

“I would love to” he lets go of your shoulder, “Unfortunately I have a hearing, but I'll be back for that meeting soon, okay?”

You sigh in defeat, getting even a few minutes of Nanami’s time for yourself is as hard as it can get, only a corruption scheme to get him to come to your office in such short notice.

“Ma’am” Yuuta says from the speakerphone, “Your ex-husband is calling” you groan, throwing your head back.

Of course he would want to interrupt your moment with Nanami.

“I can get you a restriction order” your lawyer offers jokily (or not).

Aside from being the company's lawyer, Nanami Kento was also your divorce attorney, which you managed to get only after agreeing to give him your company's account if he managed to land you the CEO position. Like everything in this merciless corporate world, it was give and take, you got what you wanted – not surprisingly so, afterall Nanami, even though is not a divorce specialist, is the best. Still, you like to think of him being more than another contractor of yours.

“I appreciate the offering” you smile tiredly, Nanami kisses your hand like the gentleman he is before leaving your office, “Yuuta, I’ll take him– it. I’ll take the call” you sit back behind your desk massaging your temple “Put him through.”

“Hello, beautiful” he greets over the speakerphone in that always so cheerful tone.

“Satoru, what do you want?”

“No chit-chat? It’s the least you could do for me after I gave you the company” entitled as always…

“You didn’t give it to me, you gave it up for the rest of your assets” you remind, already sick of this same discussion over and over.

When the divorce was officially on the table you told Kento exactly what you wanted: the company. The one thing you knew your ex husband would hate to lose, but also didn’t love as much as his lifestyle – which would be brutally affected if you decided to go for the 50% you were entitled to.

So through a carefully written agreement you accepted way less than you were owed in the form of full ownership of the respected construction company and title of chief executive officer.

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other. How have you been?”

“Fine. Just tell me what you want, I actually take this job seriously and have important things to do.”

Oh god, he would tease you so bad if he knew about the corruption scheme, and the worst part is that, eventually, he will know. Gojo has ears everywhere around here.

“Nanami” he says simply. You start to look around your office, wondering if he has cameras there.

“You… want… Nanami?”

“Yes, beautiful” he confirms slowly like he's talking to a kid that has just learned the alphabet.

“Why? You know what? Nevermind, I don't want to know. No, you can’t have him” you lean on your chair, denying Gojo gives you great satisfaction.

“It’s not for any bullshit reason, alright?”

“I don’t care, Satoru. Besides, I don’t own Kento, you can approach him anytime” you smile knowing he would never be able to do that without you.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” condescension drips from your phone and onto your desk, “He won’t represent me even if I run for president.”

“So you need legal representation? You’re not calling me from jail, are you Satoru?” you mirror his condescending tone, surely he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Thought you didn't care, or would you bail me out? Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t have the money for that” he laughs, arguing was never a thing with him, he would mock you and find a way to make you doubt your accusations. Gaslighting is it? “I’ll give it a shot, just so you know, but this is a great opportunity for you to ask something in return.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Think about it, baby, I’m sure there's plenty of things I can do for you” his tone is lower, more seductive.

“Doubt it” you roll your eyes hearing his chuckle.

“Yeah? When was the last time you had–”

You hang up.

Then sigh loudly and press the button to talk to Yuuta.

“Yes, ma’am?” you scrunch your nose, still not used to being called that, Nanami said you should let your sweet assistant call you ma'am or madam at least in front of others since you could use the recognition of your authority.

“Please put Geto on the line.”

“Certainly” you wait, stepping out of your heels and digging your toes on the fluff carpet under the table.

“Hi, doc” you salute your psychologist.

“Sugar, I told you there’s no need to address me like that, hurts my feelings” his honeyed voice is everything you need to hear in such stressful times.

“It does? Maybe you should see a therapist to talk about that, I have a great recommendation” you can’t help but smile like a little girl when talking to him, being playful is a way to cope with your harmless crush.

“Just great?”

“He’s the best, I can assure you” he laughs, “Do you have a few minutes?”

“For you, absolutely” your face warms up then you remember the subject of the call and cools down again.

“It’s Satoru.”

‘It’s always Satoru’ Geto thinks.

“He just called wanting something, I told him no and he made that same old joke about me not having money” you huffed.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Helpless? I don't know, he must think I’m poor now or something” which is ridiculous, you’re not nearly close to his patrimony as you used to when you were married but what you have is still fuckload more than what it takes to be considered poor.

“He’s trying to remind you of what you lost when you left him, this is just another manipulation technique, my love. Don’t let him get in your head” you need this as a mantra to hear every time your ex-husband calls, “Did he bring up sex this time?”

“No, but he was about to.”

“And what did you say?”

“Hanged up” you hear him snorting.

“Well, that can work on the phone, but what if you were talking face to face? What would you have done?”

Geto knows a lot about you. Obviously since you pay him to listen while you ramble and complain. Still, feels overwhelming having someone recalling your previous actions, especially the ones you're not exactly proud of.

“Tell him to shut up, throw a stapler on him, call security, threaten him with a restriction order.”

“Would you really?” Geto likes to take a joke you make and dig on that.

“Well, probably not the last two…”

“Have you been looking up restriction orders?”

“No, that was a joke my lawyer made early. A restriction order would be too… bureaucratic? Also unnecessary, afterall Satoru he never physically hurt me or threatened to.”

“That would be a good way of making him leave you alone for a while since you're not able to fully detach from him” you sat up.

“That's not true! I’ve been doing everything by myself lately, don't even have time to think about him! I’m detached, doc.”

“Wanna know what I think you would have done if he made that sexual comment face to face with you?” you gulp and Geto takes your silence as consent to continue, “I think you would let him go forward with it.”

You make an offended sound but don't fight his statement, “And what would happen next?” he tones the question like a professor trying to make the class complete a sentence, you keep your head down and mouth shut, “You would’ve let him sweet talk you into sleeping with him again.”

“You don't know that” you murmur.

“It’s a pattern, love. This is how abusive husbands keep their wives from leaving them or even telling anyone about the abuse. They use sex to make them think how good it is to be with them despite everything else.”

“Satoru was not abusive.” you defend your ex-husband firmly, “And I already left him!” you defend yourself less firmly.

“And he still thinks he can have you back! You know why?”

“Because I’m a catch that he shouldn’t have cheated?” Geto stays quiet for a few seconds and you feel a lump in your throat forming. The comment was supposed to sound more like a joke but you're still too hurt for that , clearly.

“That as well, but you really think he regrets it?”

“He seemed pretty sorry in the divorce mediation” you murmur recalling his lost-puppy expression.

“The meeting where he signed a paper that would make him lose his company and his wife? Gee I wonder why” the little sarcastic remark made you smile and shake your head, your psychologist using sarcasm against you is quite funny, “My point is, if you really want to be independent from him you ‘gotta stop letting yourself be attracted back like a magnet” you let his words sink in hearing some papers being ruffled on his side.

“I’m giving you homework.”

“Oh no…”

“Find your sexuality by yourself, you can watch porn, masturbate or even better: have sex with someone. Anyone but Satoru, because right now that’s what he’s using to control you.”

“Geto, I don’t know about this. Porn is too gross, masturbation is too ineffective and sex is too…” you trail off.

“Vulnerable?” he completes.

“I guess…”

“It’s been a few months since you last slept with Satoru, right? What’re you feeling?”

“What do you mean?” you rub your face.

“You know what I mean” he's strict and you let out a long sigh.

“I feel frustrated, sometimes stressed and distracted” all caused by the men you have to deal with including the handsome psychologist putting some sense in you. Not exactly what you wanted him to put in, but oh well…

“Exactly, in your current state it’s only a matter of time until you end up on his bed. You gotta decide if you are willing to: find porn that is not gross, masturbate more effectively or let yourself relax and be vulnerable.”

Is easy to like Geto Suguru, he’s handsome, has a sweet voice, he listens without interrupting (manterrupting is a big no-no for this job thankfully). Though sometimes it’s easy to hate him too, you have to remember he's saying what you need to hear not what you want to, even if your ears could use some tickling from time to time.

“Still with me?” he asks after you remain quiet.

“Yes, doc” he says your name in a warning tone, “Sorry, Suguru.”

“All good for our appointment next week?”

“Hm” your thoughts go to the newly found out corruption scheme that will need your attention the following days, “I’ll ask Yuuta to confirm with your secretary alright?”

“Whatever works best for you, love.”

“Bye, Suguru.”

“Don’t forget your homework.”

🏷️ @rinntvrou @sakurasimppp @sad-darksoul — to be tagged in future works of this series please comment “@ me” in this post.

note: i’m not sure if tickle the ears is a known term worldwide but means “saying or suggesting things to please even if untrue”. also i have some big plans for kinktober so next chapter might take a little while to be posted, let me know your thoughts <3

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #toji x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk series #jjk x you

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aphroditelovesu · 9 months

Text

The Lost Queen - I

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader

— word count: +1,592.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom , @hadesnewpersephone

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 1

''This is so annoying.''

You looked up only to find your friend glaring at you angrily. You cleared your throat and asked her, ''What's so annoying?''

''All of this!'' She snarled, pointed at the history books on the table. You were in the library, studying about Alexander the Great at the request of your history teacher. Your friend complained, she hated history class and the teacher. You didn't hate the classes, but you didn't like Mr. Sheffield. He was so arrogant and brazen. You were sure he was getting involved with a student, but you had no proof.

Yet.

''I know you're angry but there's no need to take it out on the poor books, May.'' You scolded her and picked up the book she had nearly torn up in her anger. ''Besides, if you screw up this book, you'll have to buy another one.''

''I don't care about that book!'' May snarled and pulled your hands towards her, ''(Y/N), please tell me that you found something rotten about Mr. Sheffield to get rid of him for good?''

You rolled your eyes. Had this. You've kind of become a spy in the meantime, trying to find something about your terrible history teacher and get rid of him. It wasn't ethical, you knew, but you'd do anything to get rid of that bastard. You already had noticed him looking at your legs shamelessly when you wore a skirt or shorts.

''I'm looking for. It's not that easy, you know? I'm not a professional spy.'' You grumbled and went back to your reading. You were reading about the Battle of Issus and its importance in the conquest of the Persian Empire.

May mumbled something unintelligible and you patted her neck comfortingly.

''Here, can we continue our reading, please? We have a work about this topic and I want the highest grade.''

''You're such a nerd, (N/N).'' You and her both laughed and she went back to trying to focus on the open book in front of her. Each was reading about different battles to get the job done faster. As you read about the Battle of Issus, May read about the Granicus.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you finally removed your sneakers and could lie down on your bed. The day was long and exhausting and you just wanted to be able to sleep until you became one with your bed.

But unfortunately you couldn't. You had to go to the market at your mother's request to buy some vegetables. The thought made you more tired but you were a good daughter and for that, just for that, you got up and went to the bathroom for a much needed shower, as you had been sweating all day due to the infernal heat it was doing.

''Ugh.'' You grumbled after getting out of the shower. You had taken a little longer than you normally would, but you felt so tired and the hot water helped to relax your sore muscles. It was a shame you couldn't just fall asleep

You dried your body and put on some comfortable clothes and put your sneakers back on. You took your phone and your headphones, putting some upbeat music on Spotify and put your phone inside the small bag that had the money to buy the vegetables at the market. As soon as you left the house, you closed the door and started walking towards your destiny.

The music was the only thing that enveloped you and you didn't notice someone calling you until they grabbed your shoulders, startling you.

''What the hell?'' You mumbled and looked at whoever had stopped you. You frowned as you didn't know the older man who glared at you sinisterly.

You felt disturbed by the man's piercing gaze on you, ''Hm... Hi?''

He didn't answer you and continued to watch you intently. This was getting creepy and bizarre.

''Uh... Since you're not going to say anything, I... I'll go...'' You were about to put your earphone back on, when he grabbed your right arm. ''Let me go, now.''

He glared at you and let go of your arm slowly, you pulled your arm back when he let go. He spoke, in a low voice but you heard it loud and clear: ''The shadows of fate surround you... The world will never be the same for you, girl.''

''What?'' You asked but he looked at you for the last time, smiled weakly and turned his back, leaving you standing on the sidewalk and thinking about the man's sinister words. ''Must be just another crazy dude...'' You shook your head and decided to continue going to the market.

You ignored the squeezing of your heart inside your chest, ignored the feeling that something was wrong. And that was your first biggest mistake.

You left the market with bags in your hand, still thinking about the mysterious man's words. What was it? Why was this bothering you so much? And why did you feel a tightness in your heart as if something was wrong? You shrugged, deciding to ignore it all and go home as soon as possible, but first you had one last place to go. At a bookstore, you wanted to buy a new book that you heard had arrived and you felt very anxious about reading it. As if you have to read it.

You smiled brightly when you arrived at the store, opening the door to find hundreds of books. You put away the bags you were holding and headed to the history book section. For some reason, ever since you've read about the Battle of Issus, you've found yourself wanting to learn more about Alexander the Great. You could look up wikipedia, but you'd rather read a book.

Approaching the shelf, you found the book you were looking for, The Life of Alexander the Great, and opened it to flip through. You decided to take it and paid for the book at the register, picking up your bags and putting away the new book. You were eager to start reading it.

As soon as you got home, you packed your groceries and ran with your book to your room, changing clothes and putting on your favorite pajamas, lay down on the bed and opened the book to the first chapter. Your eyes read each word eagerly and you frowned as you read the next paragraph:

''Alexander was married with a woman of an unknown origin and he was deeply in love with her and devoted, according to sources at the time. Her name was (Y/N)..."

And why did your head begin to throb painfully? You tried to stay awake, but your eyes were too heavy and the headache made it worse. Maybe a nap... You bookmarked the page you left off and placed the book on the corner table and allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, your body in desperate need of a rest.

When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in your room.

You tried to get up but your body still ached, you groaned in pain as your head throbbed again. What was that?

Finally managing to sit up, you looked around and felt dread creep through your body. You didn't know this place, much less the people who watched you cautiously and suspiciously. Your eyes widened when you noticed the ancient greek armor and swords in their hands and even more when you saw the symbol of Ancient Macedonian. Vergina Sun.

You recognized the symbol from the history books. This was a dream, it had to be, but if it was a dream, why did you feel pain and feel like you knew these people who looked at you like an alien. And you felt embarrassed when you noticed that you were still in your pajamas, dressed completely differently from the men who were looking at you.

''What are you doing?'' A loud authoritative voice echoed and you cringed even more. First, the person who was speaking approached the group of men along with another slightly taller man and second, why did you understand them? It wasn't the language you spoke, you knew that as it sounded nothing like your mother tongue but much more different. Greek, you noticed and that left you even more perplexed.

You didn't understand greek as far as you knew.

''What is that? Who are you?'' The man dressed more formally than the others, asked looking at you curiously. He had dark blonde hair and his eyes were two colors, blue and brown. He wasn't very tall, but you felt small with the way he looked at you. He seemed to be the leader, you noticed.

You looked like a fish out of water and one of the men laughed and said, ''Looks like she's lost her tongue, Alexander.''

Alexander... You widened your eyes even more and walked away from the grip of the man who was holding you. No... It couldn't be...

You had read a book about him... And his appearance...

By god... You were face to face with Alexander the Great.

— lady l: I hope you liked the first chapter. This was her introduction to the ancient world and the next few will see (Y/N)'s interaction with Alexander and the others.

It has not yet been proofread and may contain errors, so I apologize for that. Until the next chapter my loves!

#yandere history #history #yandere historical characters #historical characters #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reader #alexander the great x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #long fic #the lost queen

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

Text

Words of Wisdom

Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Synopsis: After years of having feelings for your lieutenant, Soap convices you to confess how you feel.

Warnings: none

You and the 141 had just gotten back from a rather tough mission. The mission itself was a success, but you had seen things within the intel you recovered you wish you could unsee. You were investigating a gang that was notorious for killing and torturing perceived enemies. The things on the tapes you recovered showed just how much pleasure the members took when doing such things.

The boys had seemed rather undisturbed by the images, or rather they hid their emotions better than you had. You were shaken to the core, and silent on the plane ride home. The boys had tried their best to comfort you, to no avail.

It was a few days later when Soap had approached you with the idea of joining him and the team at the local bar. Figuring it would be a great way to let off some steam, you obliged.

You and Soap were sitting at a table at the local bar, watching Price, Gaz, and Ghost take turns at darts. You found your eyes lingering on Ghost. You had grown quite fond of the man since you two had started working together. The two of you just "clicked." Often finding yourselves in each other's company and enjoying each other's humor. You'd daresay the two of you were good friends.

"You know, you should just tell L.T. how you feel. Might be more effective than making googly eyes at him all the time." Soap chided, grinning from ear to ear as he finished off his beer. The Scotsman knew of your feelings for Ghost and had for some time. He swore to keep the information to himself, but that didn't mean he wouldn't nudge you from time to time to spill the beans to the masked man.

"I can't." You groaned, throwing your head in your hands. "Not only is it not ethical, as he's my lieutenant, but what if he rejects me? Johnny, I don't know how we'd come back from that."

"Never know until you try Lassie. Who knows, he may return your feelings."

"I don't know." You huffed.

"Look, all I'm saying is what's the harm in putting yourself out there. The two of you deserve to be happy. Worst case, if he happens to reject you, I doubt he'd treat you any different. Man can be an arse, but it's clear he has some sort of soft spot for you." Soap said as he squeezed your shoulder gently.

"I just think maybe he feels like he doesn't deserve anyone to care about him. He barely lets us get close to him as is. It's taken me years to get a fraction of the walls he has up, down."

"True, I think possibly he just doesn't know how not to be "Ghost." Soap smiled sadly. "Maybe he needs someone to show him how to be himself again, in a way a friend can't."

You chuckled slightly, "Who knew you had so much wisdom in you, Johnny? Perhaps I should get you some more beers. Who knows what other words of wisdom the great Soap McTavish has in store."

"Oh you have no idea." Soap laughed.

"I'm gonna go grab some air, I'll be back." You said, standing up to stretch. The air had gotten too stuffy, and you knew if you stared at Ghost any longer it would become too obvious.

You made your way past the rowdy patrons of the bar, toward the steps for the roof access. As you opened the door the gust of cold wind hit your face, making you shiver.

You stared out into the night sky, watching your breath evaporate into the cold air. You stood there for a while, letting your thoughts wander, distracting yourself to the point you didn't hear the door open and shut behind you.

"Bloody freezing out here." You turned at the voice and saw Ghost walking toward you, rubbing his hands together. His usual skull mask was replaced with a simple black balaclava while donning a loose black hoodie and jeans.

"That it is. Feels nice, though. That bar was stuffy as hell." You chuckled.

Ghost said nothing in reply, just nodded his head as he came to stand next to you.

The two of you stood in silence for a short while before he spoke up. "Wanted to make sure you were okay. Still seem pretty shaken up after that mission."

"Yeah, I'm good. Was a rough one, so I had a few drinks to shake it off." You stated plainly, picking at the chipped paint of the roof's railing. "Just was weighing on my mind more than I should've let it."

"You seem to have more on your mind than just the mission, Sergeant. You've been quiet tonight." Simon's gaze on you was intense. You could feel it burning into the side of your head.

"Alcohol has a tendency to run my brain a mile a minute. Came up here to try and quiet out my thoughts." You admitted, turning to meet his gaze. As your eyes met, you could see his expression soften. "And you? Doing okay?"

"Another day on the job." He grunted in response. "I'm willing to provide an ear if you need someone to talk to. Not always the best at advice, but my ears work wonders."

You found yourself staring at each other for a few moments. His expression still softened from before. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or the look he held in his eyes, but you found yourself growing confident, so you decided to go for it. You would go crazy if it had gone on any longer without him knowing.

"Can I speak freely then? And not to my lieutenant, to Simon."

"Course?" Simon looked perplexed at your request, but waited for you to continue. To say he was nervous about what you were going to say was an understatement.

"I want you to know that I see you. I really see you." You started nervously. There was no turning back now for you. Thinking of the words Johnny had said, you knew what you wanted to say. The question was, how would Simon take it?

"Pardon?" Simon was even more perplexed at this.

"What I mean is… you have this facade that you carry around, making people believe that you're just some cold, distant man. I see through that. I see past Ghost, and I see Simon. Someone who is so worthy of being loved and cared for, someone who deserves happiness. I worry that perhaps you lost sight of him. I just want you to know that even though you may not see yourself as worthy, I do."

Simon tensed at your words as they replayed over and over in his head. What exactly was it that you were trying to tell him? You were right, though, he didn't see himself as worthy of anything. After all he's lost in his life, he doesn't think he deserves having anyone close to him.

Sensing his internal struggle, you continued. "I'm trying, poorly, to tell you that I care for you more than just as a friend. I have for a while. I was always too nervous to tell you because I didn't know how you'd react. And, frankly, I didn't want to lose you as a friend. I'd rather have that than not have you in my life at all." Your confidence was starting to falter. You knew he may not have much to say in reply, but you weren't expecting total silence.

Simon only continued to stare at you, his dark eyes scanning your face, betraying none of the emotions he was actually feeling inside. He did care for you as more than just a friend. He's loved you for years, but believed he never deserved to have you like that. He had always been okay just being friends, as that's all he thought he deserved. There were so many things he wanted to say, but no words could convey what he was thinking, and all he could do was watch as your face fell.

"I um. I'm sorry. Perhaps that was highly inappropriate of me. I shouldn't have said anything. We can just forget this happened, yeah? I'll catch you in the morning, sir." You whispered out, your emotions now hitting you like a truck. You didn't want to cry in front of Simon and make an even bigger fool of yourself. You wished you hadn't said anything, fearing now that things would never be the same for the two of you.

You turned to start walking toward the door when his voice grabbed your attention. "Y/N."

You turned back to look at him, only to see that he had removed his balaclava. You'd never seen him without his mask before, and you couldn't help the small gasp that emitted from your mouth.

You walked slowly toward him, admiring his features. His eyes were even more vibrant without the hindrance of his mask. You could see the freckles dusting his skin and the redness in his cheeks from the cold. To you, he was the most beautiful man you'd ever laid eyes on.

Simon remained still, his eyes watching your reactions carefully. He was nervous how you'd react to seeing his face, but he figured this gesture was the only way he could show you how he felt.

A small smile was growing on your lips as you reached your hand out slowly toward his face, waiting for a sign from him that it was okay to touch him. He gave you a curt nod, so you placed your hand softly on the side of his cheek. His skin was warm and softer than you had expected. He closed his eyes at your touch and leaned into your palm slightly.

"You are so handsome, Simon Riley." You breathed, stroking his cheek lightly.

He opened his eyes at your words and looked down at you. You had both stood there staring intently at one another until Simon leaned forward to place his lips on yours. You sighed at the contact, pressing yourself into him further as you reciprocated the kiss.

He pulled away moments later with a hint of a smile on his face. "What do you say I take you back to base, make you a cup of tea? Too bloody cold out here."

"After you, sir." You beamed up at him, your cheeks now burning red from not only the cold but from Simon's kiss.

He took your hand before placing his balaclava back on, and led you back down to the exit of the bar. As you passed Soap, you could see him wink at you, while throwing you a thumbs up.

~~~~

A/N: I'm not sure if I wanted to turn this into a smutty part two as well or just leave as is. Hope you all enjoyed it!

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #konig imagine #mw2 imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

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beloved-blaiddyd · 25 days

Note

I LOVEEEE DOG GALLIGAR I NEED MORE

please read the rules and regulations next time anon cuz I'll ignore asks that don't follow format. Anyways I'm a big gallagher simp so I can't ignore a humble request. here's a quick sketch of farmer!reader and (yandere utc) dog!gallagher + extra brainrots cooked up 1 AM cuz I just finished a school output

Domestic Fluff/Crack:

You rarely buy chocolate after taking Gallagher in. Not because you're worried that the canine might randomly eat some and get a "lethal" dose— but because he simply looks disgruntled whenever you take a bite. He went on quite a long tangent about how it doesn't taste that great and you would much rather not hear it a second time.

In your first week together, you might've gone overboard and bought every dog care product you could think off. Gallagher heartily laughed when he saw you bought one of every shampoo— and then his heart dropped when you pulled out a pet razor next in the shopping bag. Needless to say, his silence saved his skin. Or well, in this case, fur.

You often pondered over the ethics of having a half-human in your home. It's not that you treat him poorly or bar him from opportunities elsewhere, but you remind him from time to time that he can leave the farm if he wants to. In which, he would either a) put a hand on your shoulder and earnestly decline or b) joke about how he's going to bite you if you ask again.

Speaking of jokes, he never tells you about his past— which was a decision you respected. However, it's become an inside joke for the two of you to make up his backstory and how you met. When your traveler friend Boothill once came to visit, you both told him that Gallagher was actually an ex-police dog who decided he's tired of snitching where the drugs were when "it's always hidden in cushions anyways". When the local innkeeper Siobhan asked where did he come from, he said he was once a bartender— and you made a convincing follow-up that it was the reason behind his distaste for SoulGlad. He even shocked everyone when he had the skills to back that lie up. You swear that every time, the story and people's reactions become more and more priceless.

Yandere:

But not everyone is elusive of his true nature.

That's why he hates whenever your neighbor "Sunday" visits.

Gallagher doesn't want it to happen, but that man seems to always discern the facade he's putting on. He doesn't like it at all. He always had to hold back a sharp stare and a growl whenever he's around. But that man. That hawk...

Why does he always cling to you like a pest?

He knows- he knows you're friends with him and that Robin girl since childhood- but shouldn't those numerous interactions suffice? Why does HE keep stealing your time together? That Sunday is a hybrid himself— he should know that someone has already marked this household territory.

Still, that bird perches on your porch, greeting you with a smile that you'll reciprocate. But the cunning glimpses he sends Gallagher indicates that they equally find the other person bothersome.

"What're you doing here?" Gallagher scoffed. "Don't you have a Family to go back to?"

Sunday smiled politely, though with how his hands are always hidden from the dog's view, he can only guess that it's clenched in a tight fist.

"And you don't?"

"(Y/n) is my Family."

"Before they were yours, they were mine."

That caught Gallagher's attention.

... Isn't that technically the truth? Even without papers, isn't the bond you, Robin, and that fiend share essentially a strong familial bond? He had only heard snippets in town and from yourself, but you three had known each other almost since birth.

So... What does that make him?

A pet?

A hound?

A friend?

A partner?

Or a mere passing memory?

Despite these thoughts, he steeled his resolve and shook his head, subconsciously holding his neck. There's no collar. Nothing that physically binds him to you. And, for reasons he didn't quite placed at the time, he hated the sensation of freedom.

He hated being free.

He hated being detached from you.

"With what to prove, huh?" Gallagher snarled. "Leave. They're asleep. Don't bother them today— or ever again."

He volunteered to patrol for the next nights to hide his insomnia. Gallagher did not understand where most these emotions stemmed from. Why would he wish to be shackled when he just got himself out or a cage? You were kind enough to supply him with basic necessities and allow him to do whatever he wants after work is done— so why this emptiness?

But when he came back home at dawn after unlocking the door with the spare key you gave him— he got his answer.

He felt his feet drag him to your door. Before he could even process what was happening, Gallagher was seated at a nearby chair, tenderly caressing your face.

This was the answer he was looking for. The raison d'etre. All resolved under three words:

"You... I want you."

And for a while, that was enough.

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m0nsterqzzz · 3 months

Text

Fluff Alphabet with Natasha Romanoff

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x gn reader

summary: fluff alphabet with Natasha Romanoff/some of my headcannons of her

a/n: literally had so much fun writing this and now I want to do one with all the marvel characters.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

A: Affection (how do they show affection/are they good at it?)

Natasha is a very closed off person, but she never misses a chance to prove how much she loves you whether that's leaving you sweet notes to find when she leaves early for a mission, cooking you dinner so you can relax, or cuddling you in bed on a day off. She wasn't very good at it at first as she was raised with the phrase, “love is for children” but she definitely warmed up after a while. Her love language is 100% words of affection and acts of service.

Beauty: (what does she think makes her s/o beautiful?)

She loves your smile as cheesy as it. She also loves when she's dating someone understanding and has a good work ethic. She loves dating someone who understands when she closes herself off or works long hours because she's not doing it to mean, it's just how she deals with things.

Comfort: (how she comforts her s/o when they're dealing with a rough day)

Once again, acts of service and words or praise are her love language so she'll definitely spend time in the kitchen with Wanda to help make you your favorite food and set up a nice warm bath for you. She tells you she's proud of you and how strong you are and then gives you space if you want it or does a fun activity with you if you want to hangout.

Dreams: (does she dream about a future with her s/o/ what are those dreams)

She always dreamed about living her life outside of the red room when she was in it and when she escaped, she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life alone which she was okay with until she met you. Now, when she thinks about her future, you're always in it. Whether that's with a few adopted children on a nice property somewhere, or still living your life you currently have- adding a few pets obviously- she's happy to just have you.

Equal: (is she more dominant or soft in the relationship)

She's definitely more dominant as that's just a personality trait of hers but she also isn't as afraid as she used to be to show her soft side. She's not afraid to call you out when somethings wrong but she also knows that sometimes people just need space which she's happy to give you.

Fight: (how would a typical fight go/ how easily would she forgive her s/o?)

I definitely see Natasha being more of a petty type, but in the end she knows that to help keep your relationship stable you have to talk things out. She's always nervous to do it, but she loves you more than anything. Fights don't happen too often but when they do she tries her best not to let her anger boil over. Not a lot of things you do could ever make her mad, but as we all know, she definitely has a tendency to resort to anger when something goes wrong. She'd never lay a hand on you, but she does tend to yell when arguments break out.

Gratitude: (is she grateful for all her s/o does/has done for her?)

100%. She's so grateful she found someone like you and even though she doesn't say that very often, she proves it with acts of kindness. She believes that anyone can say they are grateful for something, but proving that you are is worth so much more. Whether it's taking you out to a fancy dinner or a fun date, setting up a movie night or taking care of a mission report so you can relax, she always shows you that she's grateful for all you do for her.

Honest: (how honest is she to her s/o?)

Keeping secrets from you is something that she has due to her line of work but other than that, she is mostly honest with you. Sometimes she lies about her emotions, but in the end she always ends up telling you how she's feeling. If you ask her about something, she usually finds no reason to lie. She trusts you with her life so why wouldn't she trust you with her secrets?

Inspiration: (did her s/o inspire her to become a better person?)

Definitely. It's not like she was a bad person at first, but she definitely had a temper and tended to fight a lot. She didn't deal with her emotions well after years of not being able to, and you helped change that. You inspired her to be a better person and lover so that she could be what you deserve.

Jealousy: (does she get jealous? if so, how jealous?)

Natasha knows that you love her and wouldn't leave her for someone else unless she gave you a reason to but a lot of the time, it's just about the way people act towards you or look at you. Some person looking at you with lust filled eyes? Make a move on you and won't take no for an answer? They definitely earn a punch to the face from your girlfriend. After that, she'll ask you if you're okay and take you home to spend the rest of the night proving that your hers.

Kiss: (does she kiss her s/o often? where does she kiss you?)

Natasha loves kissing you, but she loves the way you scrunch up your face when she kisses your nose. You'll often joke when she does it that she “missed your lips” and she simply laughs and kisses you on the lips. Her kisses are usually soft and passionate, but trust that when her dominant side comes out, you're going to be pushed up against a wall and making out with her for hours.

Little ones: (how is she around kids?)

Even with her cold personality, children hold a special place in her heart as she will never be able to biologically have any of her own. She wants to eventually start a family with you, but for now she's fine with babysitting her teammates' kids sometimes or visiting the children's hospital in her superhero suit. When they scream and cry, she has to admit that she's not too great with dealing with that but she eventually just takes a deep breath and calms herself in order to help calm them. If that doesn't work, she calls in Wanda.

Marriage: (does she want to get married?)

Honestly, she doesn't care all that much. Obviously, marrying you would be nice but it's not necessary. She simply loves being with you and if you never get married, that's fine. If you do, great. She thinks about what it would be like often, but she knows that in the end you guys would still be as happy as you are now. The only thing that would change would be you have a piece of paper to hang on the wall that basically says, “I love this person so fucking much” and most of her friends already know she does.

Nicknames: (what nicknames does she call her s/o? Does she have any for them?)

She definitely likes more personal nicknames that all though it didn't take a lot of time to come up with them, it's something that shows how much you know each other. She uses regular nicknames too. Babe, darling, dear or any term of endearment in Russian are some of her favorites to use. She loves how flustered you get when she speaks in Russian, which is why she does it so often.

On Cloud Nine: (what's she like in love? is it obvious?)

I wouldn't exactly say it's obvious but the people that know Natasha personally can definitely tell when her moods are changing. She's nicer, calmer, and a whole lot more happy. It's the little things like the way she looks at you, the way she handles different problems that involve you, or the way she protects you.

PDA: (is she okay with showing off her relationship in public?)

It's not that she doesn't like to, it's just that she knows how uncomfortable it must be for others. She's not scared of what others would think, as she can protect herself and you easily, so she doesn't mind kissing you in public or hugging you. Holding hands is definitely her thing, so that she doesn't lose you in big crowds and so she can easily remind you that she's there for you when she notices you getting overwhelmed.

Quirk: (a trait of hers that makes her a great partner)

She is a great listener and notices the little things. She knows when you need her to be there or when you need space, she can literally read your emotions from the way your eyes look. She notices small things about you that nobody else does, and you often find a gift left for you on the counter if she hears you talking about wanting it in a conversation that you didn't think she was paying attention to.

Romance: (is she a romantic or does she not know how?)

She often says she's not romantic, but the date nights she plans prove otherwise. She doesn't exactly know how to show romance after years of not doing it, but she loves randomly saying something that causes you to grin and blush. Little compliments throughout the day, telling you (quite poetically might I add) how much she loves you, or cuddling you in the warmth of your home.

Security: (are they protective over you? if so, how protective?)

She's very protective and even though she knows you can handle yourself, she's always watching over you on missions or really just in daily life. Not in a possessive way, just making sure that her partner stays safe. She trusts you to stay safe, but who doesn't need extra protection in case something goes wrong?

Thrill: (does she like trying out new things in the relationship or does she like a routine?)

She loves a routine, but she knows better than anyone that following the same one everyday can make you go insane. With that knowledge, she makes sure to plan fun date nights every once in a while, or just randomly go out and have fun. Even with her love of routines, she also loves being spontaneous in life and in her relationship. Other then that, she's fine with the daily life that you guys have. Work dury the day, sometimes she has missions in the evenings or at night, and spend whatever free time she has having a meal with you or cuddling.

Ugly: (what are some of her bad traits? does she know that she has them?)

She understands that she has some bad traits and tries her best to fix them if they're becoming a problem. A few of them are:

doesn't show emotions and instead bottles them up (which then causes outbursts)

stresses about little things that go wrong when planning something

always puts other before herself which sometimes leads to putting herself in danger

She knows that you struggle to understand her sometimes and she tries her best to help you.

Value: (on what level of priority is her relationship? does it come before other relationships in her life?)

She knows how much putting your relationship as one of her top priorities, and she does her best to do that. She's not one to blow you off the hang out with other people, but she knows that if she truly has to for something like a mission, she has a very understanding partner. She doesn't take advantage of that though, and she always makes sure to set aside time to spend with you if she's been very busy for a while.

Wild Card (A random fluffy headcanon that you have about the relationship?)

I think that Natashas favorite season would be winter because she loves the cold.

Since it snows in New York, she will spend any free minute forcing you to come outside with her to play in it.

Snowball fights are definitely her thing.

She'll pull the rest of the avengers into it too, and her competitive side would quickly come out.

Loves hot chocolate and would have it for every single meal if you let her.

100% gets sick from days of not putting on a jacket while she goes outside like you told her to.

“I told you so, Nat. Now come eat your soup.”

Forces you to cuddle with her and gets you sick as well.

XOXO (Does she like to kiss, hug, cuddle you? If so, how often does she do it?)

I feel like Natasha is a big physical touch person in a relationship but just doesn't like to show it around other people. She loves kissing you, will pull you into a hug randomly, or cuddle with you while you're doing simple tasks. Doing a mission report? She's there to hug you. Taking a shower? She's there to wash your hair for you and hug you. Cooking? She wraps her arms around you from behind and buries her face in your neck.

Yucks: (some things she doesn't like)

Natasha hates pickles. I don't know why but I just feel like she'd be the type to get a burger and pass her pickles onto one of her teammates plates. And pineapples, I think she'd hate pineapple flavored things or just the fruit itself because it makes her mouth “feel icky”. It's also well known that she hates working with people as a team especially on missions and even though she loves her teammates, she prefers to go on solo missions.

So for Z I couldn't pick between these 2 so I decided to do both lol:

Zeal: (would she go to great lengths for you/ or relationship? if so, how far)

Literally yall are the "Don't Blame Me” couple. She would do anything for you. You know how heros would give their love in order to save the world? Not her. She would rather die than let you die. It may seem dramatic, but you're her everything the same way she's yours. She would go so fucking far to protect you and what you guys have. There is very little she wouldn't do for you. Murder is not out of the picture.

Zzz: (how is she when she sleeps? Does she sleep walk? Sleep talk? nightmares?)

After her past in the red room, she definitely has nightmares that end with you guys watching TV in the living room as you try and help her sleep again. She also talks in her sleep. You've stayed up sometimes to listen to her say full sentences. It scared you at first because you would wake up to her seemingly talking to you but she would still be asleep. Other than that, she's a calm sleeper but also wakes up easily sometimes as she is always on high alert

#marvel x reader #marvel x you #natasha romanoff #the black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #fluff #fluff alphabet

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cfiesler · 1 year

Text

Elon Musk did not create an AI trained on your fanfiction.

Hi, AI ethicist + fanfiction expert here. (This is one of those times where I feel uniquely qualified to comment on something...)

I’m seeing this weird game of telephone about the Sudowrite AI that I think started out pretty accurate, but now has become “Elon Musk created an AI that is stealing your fanfiction” (which frankly gives him far too much credit). I can probably say more about this, but here are a few things that I want to clarify for folks, which can be boiled down to “Elon Musk has nothing to do with this” and “this is nothing new”: Elon Musk is not involved in any way with Sudowrite, as far as I can tell. Sudowrite does, however, use GPT-3, the widely-used large language model created by OpenAI, which Elon Musk co-founded. He resigned in 2018, citing a conflict of interest due to Tesla’s AI development. It wasn’t until after he left that OpenAI went from being a non-profit to a capped for-profit. Elon Musk doesn’t have anything to do with OpenAI currently (and in fact just cut off their access to Twitter data), though I can’t find anything that confirms whether or not he might have shares in the company. I would also be shocked if Elon actually contributed anything but money to the development of GPT-3.

Based on Sudowrite’s description on their FAQ, they are not collecting any training data themselves - they’re just using GPT-3 paired with their own proprietary narrative model. And GPT-3 is trained on datasets like common crawl and webtext, which can simplistically be described as “scraping the whole internet.” Same as their DALL-E art generator. So it’s not surprising that AO3 would be in that dataset, along with everything else (e.g., Tumblr posts, blogs, news articles, all the words people write online) that doesn’t use technical means to prohibit scraping.

OpenAI does make money now, including from companies like Sudowrite paying for access to GPT-3. And Sudowrite itself is a paid service. So yes, someone is profiting from its use (though OpenAI is capped at no more than 100% return on investment) and I think that the conversations about art (whether visual or text) being used to train these models without consent of the artist are important conversations to be having.

I think it’s possible that what OpenAI is doing is legal (i.e., not copyright infringement) for some of the same reasons that fanfiction is legal (or perhaps more accurately, for reasons that many for-profit remixes are found to be fair use), but I think whether it’s ETHICAL is a completely different question, and I’ve seen a huge amount of disagreement on this.

But the last thing I will say is that this is nothing new. GPT-3 has been around for years and it’s not even the first OpenAI product to have used content scraped from the web.

#sudowrite #openai #fanfiction #ao3 #fanfiction ai #gpt3

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differentclasss · 6 months

Text

Hardcore - Neil Lewis x Reader (smut)

summary: You and Neil watch an old porno together and you give him a blow job.

a/n: i'm not going to go into the ethics of pornography. do what you gotta do. thanks!

warnings: smut, porn, female reader, and not too much else.

Gumshoe Video had its fair share of slow days, some days you and your boyfriend Neil would just sit on the couch watching whatever movie he picked out. Other days were spent going through whatever videos you hadn’t had the time to catalog yet. Today was one of the latter. You had gotten lucky at a garage sale and found a massive milk crate of old video tapes. The whole thing was only ten bucks and was filled with tapes. You bought it from a guy who sheepishly explained his wife had sold the VHS player at their last garage sale and didn’t have any use for them anymore. Whatever his reason was, you were just happy to arrive at Gumshoe the next day with a bunch of new tapes.

Neil was already there when you arrived with the crate in tote. You greeted him with a kiss on the cheek after you put the milk crate on the front desk.

“Only ten bucks!” You explained while gesturing to the crate.

“Anything good?” He asked with an amused smile as he picked up a tape and quickly looked at it.

“Haven’t had the chance to go through it yet.” You told him. “I think I saw a copy of Titanic.”

“Just what we need,” Neil teased. “Another copy of Titanic.”

You two go through the tapes on the couch, it’s all pretty normal stuff. A few good ones here and there but mostly the typical VHSs you would find in any family collection. You check each tape for any visible damage and have to chuck a few out. After an hour or so, you start to see the bottom of the crate through a few old tapes. You spot a collection of pornographic tapes at the bottom, purposefully hidden from anyone who would’ve seen it. You giggle a little when you pick up a copy of some raunchy erotica called Passion Toys. Neil looks over at you as you hold it up to him. The cover was of a girl standing in front of the movie's title holding her hands over her breasts. It’s probably from the 1980s, based on the girl's hair and dated look to it. Neil laughs a little too.

“I think we’ve reached the old guy's old porno stash.” You joke as you place the tape on the table in front of you. “I’m nervous about touching these.” You add with a little laugh.

Gumshoe had a very small selection of pornographic films, most of the ones the store did have were the garden variety art house ones. You know, ones that wouldn’t be considered that pornographic in current times. Think Andy Warhol’s Blue Movie. Most of the time, when someone did rent these movies, you assumed they had to be pretentious even when getting their rocks off. These tapes on the other hand were full-blown pornos. Raunchy ones by the look of it.

“Jesus,” Neil laughed and picked up one. “At least they seem pretty normal. Typical pornos from the 80's.”

“Yeah, still pretty funny though.” You tell him and look at the back of one and read through its vague plot, only promising the best and totally real orgasms on screen.

“You ever watch one of these?” He asks and looks at you curiously.

“Have I watched porn?” You ask and look up at him with a small grin.

“No, like have you watched, I don't know what you would call these, classic porn.” He asks. “Like on a VHS.”

“No, why?” You look at him with an eyebrow raised and a small grin still on your lips. “Have you?”

You wondered what he was getting at. It was true though, you never watched porn on a VHS tape. It seemed rather impractical considering the current modes of watching it. You felt a little embarrassed even talking about it with him, even if he was your boyfriend. Porn wasn’t what you wanted to talk about with him, it was a pathetic private thing. Not something you felt like you could freely talk about it.

“No.” He shook his head. “Do you want to?”

“Neil!” You gasp, a little shocked at the proposition. “You can’t be serious…”

“Oh c’mon!” He tells you with a laugh. “It’ll be funny. We can’t put this out for rent, so we might as well just see what it’s about before we put it away in storage.” He offers.

“You’re gross.” You tease and then pick up the copy of Passion Toys. “But since you’re twisting my arm, then fine. Put this in and we’ll watch it.”

Neil smiles and takes the tape from your hands. He goes to the VHS player and inserts it in. You feel a little weird watching it out in the open of the store but remind yourself that the door is still locked. The film starts with a woman at a party who is talking to a few men. She pulls one of the men aside to a small room. They kiss and have some very moving dialogue. You can’t help but giggle at the cheapness of it all. She gives him an overly enthusiastic blow job.

“God!” You exclaim and look over at Neil. “This is terrible, they’re not even fucking and she’s acting like she’s coming.”

“I don’t think people watch these for the plot…” Neil responds.

“Obviously!” You laugh.

The film continues and she moved on to another guy in the film, fucking him in a different room. You and Neil continue to laugh and make a few jokes about it. It’s a little weird to watch together but you try to move past it. During a drawn-out scene where the woman and a man are fucking each other in doggy, you laugh a little awkwardly. The scene seems to go on way too long like it’s the finale or something. From the corner of your eye, you see Neil shift in his seat, crossing his legs ever so slightly.

“You good?” You ask, looking over at him, he nods quickly. “Why are you sitting like that?”

“Just more comfortable.” He responds with a red face.

“More comfortable?” You ask and turn yourself to him.

“Yeah…” He says and looks forward.

You have a sneaking suspicion he’s hiding an erection. You stifle a laugh and look at him with a teasing smile. You get closer to him and he blushes when you move to have your thigh against him.

“Is this great piece of film giving you a hard-on?” You ask teasingly.

“Shut up.” He says with an embarrassed look. "It’s a normal bodily reaction. I’m watching something that’s made to turn people people on.”

“And this is so very erotic.” You reply sarcastically while putting your head on his shoulder and lightly tracing his arm with your fingertips. You do it mostly because you know that any sort of touch is torture for him right now.

The film continues but now it feels like it’s painfully long. Neil feels like he’s going to explode right then and there with you giving him the lightest of touches. The movie starts to wrap up, the woman is lying in bed now and the man pulls off of her. You look over at Neil again lifting your head and giving him a little kiss on the neck.

“I take it that you liked it?” You ask with a giggle.

“You’re killing me here,” He says and looks over at you. His hands drift over to you and he brings you on top of him. “That was torture.”

“Oh yeah,” You giggle and can’t help but tease him more. “It’s so very hot hearing a woman go, ‘Oh, yeah, just like that! Just like that!’ Over and over again…”

“It’s pretty hot hearing you say that.” Neil chuckles and moves his hands under your shirt.

“You’re disgusting.” You laugh and then kiss him.

You hardly think you were that turned on by the cheap porno that was playing, you were under the impression that you were turned on by Neil’s neediness. You kissed his lips and then moved to his neck, rutting yourself against his clothed crotch as he whined. His hands moved to the tape of your neck and lightly held you there.

His moans and whimpers turned you on more than you wanted to let on. You ground yourself against him again, causing another whine to come from his lips. He muttered how bad he wanted you and you obliged. Your hands moved to his belt and you unbuckled it. Shimming off his pants, you lowered yourself down to face his crotch. You pulled down his boxers and could see how hard he was over this whole thing. He cursed when you gave his dick a slow stroke before putting it in your mouth.

You took him fully in your mouth as he looked down at you. His hands moved to your hair and he gently pulled on it, causing you to slightly choke. A bit of drool escaped the corner of your mouth. You bobbed up and down, your jaw aching ever so slightly when you increased the speed of your bobbing. You didn't think he was going to last long, given the circumstances.

“Fuck,” Neil whimpered overhead. “Gonna come…”

You continued to suck him off, your speed increasing as he got closer to his climax. Without another warning, he bucked his hips into the back of your throat as he kept a strong grip on your hair and came. You choked ever so slightly on his come but swallowed anyway. As he came off his high, he kept you there for a moment before letting go of your hair and watched as you straightened yourself out. He tucked himself away and zipped up the zipper of his jeans.

“Sorry,” He responded with a soft blush to his cheeks. “I uh… I guess I just have a strong appreciation for all types of film...”

“Or you’re just a pervert.” You giggle and sit back down with him and lean against him.

“You were into it!” He teases.

“Maybe…” You say and then sit up. “We gotta open the store sometime today, come on.”

Neil shakes his head and sits up with you before looking at you with a small mischievous grin.

“Just one more movie?” He asks. “I swear this time only for educational purposes.”

You laugh and stand up, ruffling his hair as you start to walk to the front door.

“You’re something else.” You call out to him. “Maybe later though…”

#neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x y/n #neil lewis x you #watching the detectives #cillian murphy smut

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atxxzist · 3 months

Text

a choice to be made | c.s, c.jh

summary: between the one who came first and the one who came later, there's only one choice to be made

pairing: choi san x f!reader, choi jongho x f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, love triangle-ish?, smut, etc

word count: 11k

(ao3) if you don't like lapslock

jongho's known you for a long time.

he's known you since the fourth grade when he found you huddled in the corner with doe and scared eyes after the teacher sent all you nine years old to go find a partner for a small assignment.

watching as your much smaller hands curled together at the front, all kinds of nervous and uneasiness on you playing for him as a witness that he couldn't help but to feel extremely bad.

so quiet and reserved you were; he hadn't even realized you were in his class until the very moment.

he had politely excused himself from his friends, telling the two they were fine to partner up without him and made way toward your smaller frame, the pout on you as if you were about to give up on anyone asking until you caught him in a short staring contest.

"would you like to be my partner?" he asked, even from that age conscious of the fact he had to be gentle as to not scare you away--contented when you nodded with the lightest smile gracing your lips.

"what's your name?" he tried breaking the ice, sitting at the desk beside you that the teacher had told the kids to put together.

"y/n..." you answered, short of a whisper and so shy, you refused to look him in the eyes which made a giggle bubble out of him as you could only stare at the kind boy who saved you.

"nice to meet you, y/n. i'm jongho."

and you had surely thought that it would a one time thing; that after the task of having to name a bunch of a things based on categories with him doing 70% of the work was finished, he would never want to speak to you again.

but jongho with his determination to get to know you and become friends, never left you alone a single day in your life after the first meeting, his persistence to start small conversations or include you in everything never failing because you started coming out of your shell bit by bit.

by the time you two entered fifth grade, you were practically friends even if you wouldn't admit it at the time, jongho could see the new changes and eagerness that wasn't there before.

he saw smiles you would try to fight and laughters with attempts to hide them, sometimes even courageous enough to return snarky replies that took him by surprise in the greatest way possible.

he knew he wanted to be friends with you for a long time.

you weren't only full of surprises, but you were genuinely a good person. someone he wanted to be around despite some obvious differences as humans, nonetheless, able to be held together by similar morals and ethics that carried the relationship to high school; the starting realization that you understood and got him even more than his friends.

you became a safe space for him; a place of comfort where he never felt judged or like he had to be perfect.

he would cycle his lunch and free times between you and his friends, often than not favoring the time spent with you because you were still too shy around people who wasn't him, but mainly because he was tired of hearing his friends' teases and remarks.

comments about him having a crush on you that he would passionately deny every time, trying to persuade his friends and himself to an extent that he only saw you as a friend and no more.

even going as far as to disagree with them you looked good the day you started to put more efforts into your appearance just so he could prove a point and show you didn't have an effect on him.

unfortunately much to his dismay and failed act, he wasn't even offended his friends called him a pussy, his mind unable to rid of the statement that was only said in a lighthearted manner that if he doesn't step up his game, he's gonna be sorry for it one day if someone else comes along.

so maybe the thought scared him a little to the point he could admit he liked you; such thing never crossing his mind because he never really felt threatened, especially with how you were.

your nose always rather in a book and boys never on your mind, jongho hadn't ever heard you talk about them a day in your life that by the time college entrance exams rolled around, it was as if he was worked up and worried for nothing when four whole years went by and nothing practically changed, except his feelings for you that only solidified and grew stronger.

it wasn't that he wasn't ever gonna ask you out. he was just scared of what could go wrong and what it could mean for the friendship if you didn't return the same sentiment, the bond built with you too precious to possibly ruin at the moment.

you two talked and shared college goals and which university you both wanted to get accepted to, studying every waking moment together because it would be great if you could attend the same one.

then came the acceptance letters, your mom running with yours one morning with a teary but proud look in her eyes and screaming at the top of her lung that you had gotten into the university of your dreams.

you couldn't wait to tell jongho, mostly because you knew if you got in then he must had as well considering his marks were better than yours by a smidge, and you both spent that afternoon celebrating and excited for the new chapter of your lives.

when it was time to pack and head for the new city, you both reminiscent and talked about the small but dearly hometown you grew up in and all the people you were gonna miss, especially your guys families and jongho's friends who had different things lined up for them.

the sight of the new city and big campus mesmerized both you and jongho, the life and people so different compared to the smaller town.

unable to help but to be excited and scared as the two of you walked past groups of college students and every welcoming signs and banners on the way to the dorms, the reality finally starting to set in and making you on edge.

feeling nervous about your roommate because of the endless possibilities of who you were gonna have to spend the next few years with, having to share a living space and see each other every day, so you hoped it was someone you could at least tolerate.

but your worries were put to rest when a girl with a friendly smile greeted you, telling you she goes by chaewon and was also equally concerned her roommate was gonna be a creep, but relieved after to find you are very much normal.

jongho on the other hand, didn't have any problems befriending his older but much quieter roommate, kang yeosang, who he had to admit was one of the most striking people he had ever seen.

it wasn't just the boy's looks though that made jongho want to admire and respect him; his kindness and friendliness something that made him incredibly easy to like.

after barely settling in, the semester was approaching fast, leaving hardly any remaining time for you and jongho to talk and share class schedules before the first week started.

and in that first week, a chemistry class that is a core requirement, is where he meets san.

bumbling into the classroom out of breath almost 30 minutes in after lecture already started, jongho can't hide the amusement he gets from the male succeeding with a deep bow and charming smile toward the professor that he swear made her slightly blush before the unnamed boy starts heading jongho's way. the seat next to him one of the only two available.

"hey bro, mind if i sit here?" he asks, the chair already pulled halfway.

"you're good," he replies, the boy quick to nod and take a seat, quietly thanking jongho with a smile.

within the next few days and dragging onto the second week, jongho learns punctuality isn't san's strong suit. he's never on time or even just 5 minutes late. jongho's known to not expect him until the 15 minutes mark where he'd show up casually and the professor wouldn't even bat an eye.

"he like--talks a lot and i'm sure, probably has no idea what's going on in class more than half the time," jongho tells you of his remarkable seatmate after you passed a simple question of how things are going.

the both of you seated at a table in the corner of the library, far enough from the public's eye to gossip and chat.

"maybe he wants to become close? i think it's good to get to know a couple new people around campus," you say, looking up from the notes you were writing, because no one has even talked to you if not for class obligations other than your roommate.

"i doubt it," jongho disagrees, "if you met him, i think he'd tired you out."

because while jongho is more outgoing and willing to step out compared to you, he's still selective, choosing only from a small pool to hang and have long, winded conversations with.

but san--he seems to talk to just about anyone and everyone. the man able to start and continue a conversation like he's known the person for years, capable of just spurring words after another without it being awkward, jongho can't help but to almost admire him for it.

how, there's really just people like him walking around and having it so easy due to their charms and charisma. because though it definitely annoys him to an extent; the professor having to shush san and him twice mid-chatter, it was also the undeniable welcomeness that made him already comfortable by the fourth week.

"91 out of 100. not bad for the first exam," jongho mumbles, holding up the test he just got back; all the studying and sleeping at 3 a.m. paying off.

"fuck."

he hears the boy next to him curse the same time a look of frustration befalls his seatmate now somewhat friend.

"a 48, are you shitting me?"

and it's then that jongho finds out this is san's second time taking chemistry, already having dropped the class last semester when there was no way he was gonna pass even if he did well on the last exam.

"but you have to promise."

"okay okay, i promise i won't be annoying," san eagerly assures the younger boy after he agreed to tutor him with the exception that he's to be on his best behavior because you're gonna be there too, usually writing notes or working on assignments and they can't be distracting.

you already know what to expect that monday, jongho warning you ahead of time but you're surprised you can already hear them within earshot before even reaching the table. the first voice an unfamiliar one followed by jongho's response.

"no cause why would you accurately assume i got in due to a sport scholarship."

"because there's no way someone who doesn't even know what fucking h2o is would even get in."

"uh... hi," you awkwardly interrupt, not intending to but having no other choice but to introduce yourself.

the both of them snaps to you and immediately drop the topic--the conversation starting in the first place because jongho was appalled his friend could throw a ball but apparently not get some of the most simple questions right.

and maybe it was this exact moment where jongho's senses and alerts started going off, because seeing san freeze up at the sight of you and you getting taken aback because you didn't think san would be so handsome; it brings a queasy and sickening feeling to jongho that he can't shake off.

watching san greet you with a simple 'hi' and gaze unable to leave you, too entirely fascinated, and your own that makes him even more nervous because he can see the twinge of shyness in them caused by the older boy.

"don't mind me. you won't even notice i'm here," you say, breaking the quick silence and taking a seat.

but it isn't just the first meeting that makes jongho think san might take the slightest interest in you, because if he isn't struggling with the materials, he's either stealing glances or trying to make you laugh so he can see your pretty smile.

"this is the last time i am tutoring you stupid jocks," jongho sighs in annoyance, but his tone rather teasing and lighthearted.

san scoffs and lifts his head up and toward your direction.

"if you quit, i'll just ask the pretty girl then."

the compliment making your cheeks burn a shade of red, startled by san's bold and daring personality, but jongho has to laugh off the sight to jump in.

"don't be silly. i helped y/n pass most of her science classes in high school."

"y-yeah," you manage to say. "i'm not that good at science."

but the boy currently sending a strangely tight feeling to your chest goes on to smile that dimply one you've seen a couple times by now, seeing the deep indentations on his cheeks that you think are so cute on a grown man.

"first thing we have in common," he coos softly, your heart almost taking a leap at that, jongho only able to stare in apprehension because you don't look disgusted or creeped out by his friend's shameless behavior at all.

judging by your reaction, he's sure you like it. your fluttering eyelashes and nervous twitch because san's starting to crack you open the same way jongho did so long ago.

each passing day at the library together, jongho can see your walls slowly coming down every time the older boy will ask a question or say something just so he can talk to you.

so when san quietly passed a mention of you during class and start coming into the library even on days jongho isn't tutoring, he knows san has more in mind than just trying to pass chemistry.

and when he finally drops the bomb one day in the confidence of the hushed and peaceful corner because you haven't shown up, jongho wishes he didn't see it coming.

"i like her," san tells him, jongho sitting across and far enough to be grateful that the older boy doesn't hear how fast his heart is beating.

but san's sure of it. maybe he still doesn't know much about you yet, but he wants to. you're way too endearing, cute, and shy and he wants you to be his. he just has to make sure of one thing first because he doesn't want to be that guy.

"but if you like her too, i understand, you know? it's all good. just thought i'd ask you first."

because san thinks, with a girl and boy hanging out and becoming friends, there's just the smallest chance one of them will eventually develop feelings and he respects that if it's the case.

"me? nah. it's cool, bro. you go ahead," jongho brushes the assumption off with a blow, but he regrets it as soon as he finishes, but unable to take it back because he went into panic when it seemed like san was able to see through him.

see that he has the fattest crush on you and has liked you for a long time, but so afraid of ruining everything if it's to come out because you've never shown even the slightest possibility of feeling the same way.

he's uneasy for the rest of the day, the conversation at the library always at the back of his head and bringing upon a sense of doom and anxiety because though san makes him want to pull the boy's hair out, jongho admits that he can be really sweet and just exactly what you need.

always grateful and thanking jongho with either his kind words or money for tutoring him and improving his grade in the course. the man's not exactly book smart but he does have a heart of gold that jongho can't help but to think if you're to ever date anyone, he's glad it's gonna be san.

you were just on your way to your next class when someone pops from behind to beside you, his shoulder knocking into yours lightly and taking you by surprise, but more so when you realize who it is.

"hey," san says, a smile on his face as he looks down at you.

"hey!" you return, never having seen him outside of the library before, or next and walking with you. "you heading this way, too?"

he shakes his head.

"i came looking for you."

you can't control the way your eyes swell at the statement, feeling both flustered and weirdly flattered but honestly impressed at san's confidence and how he's able to just say things for what it is without feeling embarrassed, ever.

"oh?" you raise a brow, your steps slowing and san giggling at the confusion. "how did you know where to find me?"

"i asked jongho about your schedule," he answers, catching just how creepy and invasive it sounds a second after and attempts to save what he can. "hope that didn't came out too weird."

you chuckle, looking to the floor and shaking your head.

"not too much. i don't think so."

"okay, good."

the air's met by silent giggles from the both of you after, and a smile on your lips that san can tell you're trying to fight even with your head down and focus on the books clutched to your chest.

"so, have you checked out every place on campus, yet?" he asks, snatching the perfect chance to be with you and bring you somewhere.

you hum a low denial before replying, "not yet. the size's a bit overwhelming."

"oh i understand," he says, tone shortly switching to mischievious and cunning. "you want to?"

you shrug in response.

"well, it would be nice. get familiar with the campus and whatnot."

"if you want, i can show you. whenever you're free," he offers casually, yours and his shoulder bumping into each other along the walk and in a manner san can almost call shameless flirting from his side.

"i mean, i wouldn't want to bother you," you say lowly, voice soft, sweet and empathetic, and why san is so drawn to you. there's almost a hint of eagerness in your eyes that is held back by the shyness and proper courtesy.

"are you kidding? it would be a pleasure," he beams, volume upping and loud enough for even the passerbys to hear. "just let me know when you're free and we can arrange something."

you watch him pull his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you, both your steps halting that second.

"you may put your number down and i'll text you?"

you hesitate, not because you don't want to but because san makes you feel a certain way and now that he's inviting you to actually do something, it's as if you've been put on the spot.

but eventually, you nod and take up the offer, typing out your number and giving yourself a contact name before returning his phone.

"i'll text you." he smiles.

when friday finally arrives; you telling him that's the day you'll be available, of course you're nervous.

not only did jongho refused to come along, but this is gonna be your first time out with someone else without him; let alone another boy. and a cute and kind one at that who gave you the first real experience of butterflies in your stomach a few weeks ago.

you both meet up in the library because it's the only place you're somewhat familiar with, the boy showing up so handsome and welcoming, your palms already sweating and you feel like you're gonna make a run for it.

"hey," he greets, and you try your best to return it without all the turmoil showing itself that you have been very obviously deprived of any interactions with the opposite sex (besides jongho) for who knows how long.

but san does such a good job of settling your nerves, his willingness to answer every and any questions you have throughout the tour calming most of your doubts until you realize you were overreacting.

he stands tall next to you and you still can't believe he's taking the time out of his day to spend with you, but you feel a lot more at ease because san is incredibly easy to talk to, you can see how jongho and him came to form a bond so quickly.

before you know it, three whole hours already went by and the tour's come to an end, san having shown you everything from every department buildings down to where students usually try to pass time.

"big school, huh?" he starts, the two of you stopping right in front of the girls dorms and you nodding in response.

"pretty insane."

he snickers and you try not to stare at the dimple provoking you because if that isn't your favorite feature of him. your thought soon interrupted by his mellow voice spurring a rather questionable remark that makes you think twice.

"but that was a good first date," he says, hands in his pockets and not a single shame on his face, instead biting back a smirk.

"first date?" you repeat, your feelings a mix of nervous and surprise... not in any bad ways. you can't say you don't enjoy the flirty and coyish tone that's starting to set in, even if you have no idea how any of it works.

he smoothly recovers, "i mean, if you want it to be?" as if he wasn't the one who started it in the first place. "but you know, if you don't, i respect that."

you're silent for a quick second before confessing, "well, i-i've never been on a date before." to which you immediately want to face palm after because you're not sure why he needed to know.

once he giggles and really look you in the eyes, you feel like you're gonna have a breakdown because the entire day has really been an overload of san that's gonna make your heart explode. and now he's staring at you like he wants you.

"then it should be done properly. how about a real first date?" he tilts his head slightly, hands now out of his pockets and delivering such bold words with all the confidence and cheekiness in the world.

you can only swallow and gulp, breaking the tension with a serious, "are you asking me out?" that's the last thing in pushing san to a laughter because he might enjoy messing with you a little too much.

"i am," he says once he can look you straight in the face and not have the urge to start laughing at how cute and clueless you really are.

but in spite of his endless teasings and your uncertainty (not your feelings for him), you do eventually say yes. now that you're out of high school and is an adult, you want to push out of your comfort zone a little and actually go out and do things.

see if it's gonna work out because ever since meeting san, you've been experiencing emotions and symptoms you've never had before.

the date takes place in a small and cozy cafe down the street from the university, san having said because it's the first, it's important to get to know one another before deciding on anything grand.

you show up in simple jeans and a blouse with your hair and makeup done, and san's in a black sweater looking effortlessly just as good as he did the last time you saw him.

the conversations and atmosphere not as awkward or bumbling as one would expect a first date to be since you've already become a lot more comfortable due to previous encounters.

you two talk over breads and two cups of cappuccino, san laughing and poking fun at you again when he sees the line of microfoam on top your lip, reaching out with his hand to clean it and bringing a light blush to your cheeks in the process.

unsure how a date's supposed to go and play out exactly, but following san's leads because it just feels so right with him.

and on the way back to the dorms, he catches you by the waist when you miss a footing, time suddenly stopping when he keeps his grip there with you two staring into each other as if in a melodrama; san sealing the relationship with a kiss before the end of the night when you said yes to being his girlfriend.

still scared and inexperienced but so sure that you want it because you have a good feeling about san and how you can't wait to tell jongho the next day because you know he will be happy for you.

jongho still can't wrap his head around the fact even almost two weeks later. that you and san are dating now, and it's not that he isn't happy for you--because he respects and knows very well that it was your choice.

he just hasn't gotten used to it; the sight of san snuggling so closely by your side in the library or playing with your hair affectionately, because the truth is--he isn't used to you being with anybody else ever. especially not this intimate.

"guess what, babe," san squeals, seeing your arrival and pulling you to the seat beside him that instant, jongho can only stare as you go on to mutter a "hmm" at your boyfriend.

"i passed the second exam," he tells you so happy and excited, shoving the laptop screen in your face displaying the score of an 83 on exam 2; his antics met by an endeared giggle from you.

"congrats," you say.

he smiles in response, pushing the device away and supporting his elbow on the table to lean in and mumble, "i think that deserves a kiss." before flying in to steal a quick peck on your cheek that barely misses your lips, making you swat at him in return.

"san!"

you wouldn't be so flustered if it wasn't a public setting, with jongho blatantly sitting right across, blinking and watching the entire time.

it's almost a daily occurrence at this point, jongho toughening his heart up because he knows you're gonna get kissed or teased and it's gonna make him feel a little restless.

he thinks san is a good man, the way he treats you full of love and regard puts jongho at ease because you deserve nothing less than that. the past week and a half with him already doing you some good, small changes on the surface from being with someone as upbeat and positive as san.

you laugh and smile more, and you've gotten more confident now that there's someone to tell you how beautiful you really are every day.

jongho is happy for you. he just needs more time to process everything, especially the changes.

after all, it's not like he became friends with you in hopes of only taking the relationship further. you are still his friend first and foremost.

"he wants me to meet his friends, and i think it'd be better if you come, too? so we can all go, you know," you tell him over the phone, on the topic of a party san's gonna take you to.

"it's fine. you guys go ahead. i'm gonna work on catching up with assignments," he replies, not lying exactly but it's the first thing to come to mind that he could use.

you pause before returning a disappointed, "oh, okay. maybe next time?"

"yeah. next time."

because you do think it would be funner with your best friend next to you, you and him usually experiencing lots of first together and you wanted him to be there when you walk through the house of your first ever college party. but it's fine since san's gonna take you and he promised to be by your side the whole night.

when the party's arrival comes, just the outside already loud and overwhelming enough, san takes you by the hand intertwining his fingers with yours and guiding the way into the house. your other one slightly wrapping it around his arm because you don't want any chances of separating from your boyfriend.

the inside is stuffy and definitely reeks of alcohol, feeling yourself picking up the pace and huddling even closer to san, prompting him to suddenly stop and turn to you, his head over his shoulder.

"how you feeling?"

"alright," you answer. "just a little overwhelmed."

he reassures you with a smile, mumbling out "almost there" and pulling you just a few more steps until you can hear piercing laughters even through the booming music, followed by an array of voices.

"ha! you fucking wish it was you!"

"shut the fuck up wooyoung. i don't see you having song credits to your name at the mere age of 20."

"wow, hey guys," san breaks the banter between his friends, all three of them snapping their neck to him that second. "such classy introduction."

you can only gulp and stare at the three men in front of you, all of them just as good looking as san and a bit intimidating the way they're staring you down.

"guys, this is y/n, and y/n, these are the three musketeers," san quips, the remark swooping a tiny smile from you.

"pfft," the boy who spoke second earlier blows, his striking red hair is the first thing to catch your eye. he's the shortest among the group as if missing a centimeter the one across from him has. "cut the shit, choi."

"ah! y/n!" says the one who spoke first--wooyoung, you think, the one currently sounding the most playful and loud. "so you're the girl who gave san a hard-on in the library. we've heard a ton about you!"

it's from how tight san's grip has gotten that you know he's tense, and you're grateful for the dark lighting because you can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from the comment.

"wooyoung! you can't just say that!" the red-haired boy reprimands, while the one in the middle as tall as a mountain and hard to miss just chuckles it all off, not a single word fallen from his lips once.

"sorry about my friend," he continues, reaching out to offer his hand for a shake. "i'm hongjoong."

"y/n," you say, amid the exchange though san's already put your name out there.

"mingi," the tall one in the middle finally speaks, his voice an unexpected deep. and then wooyoung jumping onto the train because he can't break the pattern.

"well, you are definitely a lot cuter in person though san already couldn't shut up about it," another remark leaving wooyoung once again, the only one to be spilling everything and saying it without an ounce of shame or embarrassment. and you thought san was the most shameless person you know.

"thanks," you reply, your current dilemma between the urge to laugh or keep a straight face. "he didn't mention you guys were a little loud and chaotic."

"ooh okay, i like her already," says wooyoung, a playful smirk settling on his face.

"--and embarrassing," san adding once he's finally able to pull you away from the nosy boys and to a part of the house more discreet.

they wouldn't stop asking questions or retelling you san's past relationships and how pathetic or yearning he gets once he's fallen for someone.

"sorry, babe. maybe bringing you to meet them the first party was a mistake."

you shake your head, a small giggle bubbling out.

"no, you're fine. they were interesting."

chaotic and just as extroverted as san can be, but also like him, you were quick to warm up to them. their loud personalities made it easy to join conversations and feel invited.

"want a drink?" he asks, nodding his head off the direction behind you. your back pushed against the table with the party drinks, you just noticed.

you shake your head. "maybe later."

but he goes in to grab one anyway, keeping it in his hand while staring down at you.

"try it. it'll loosen you up." he smirks, and you don't want to but san has a way of tempting you into doing things you usually wouldn't.

"is it alcohol?" you softly ask.

"yeah. beer."

"oh."

and when you still keep quiet, he starts again, "i'll go first and you after."

"well that's unfair. you've been here before," you whine, a pout crossing your lips without notice and san has to resist the urge to kiss you right there.

"no. i don't even like alcohol," he defends himself, tall and true because yes, he's been to lots of parties but he still cannot take it, his body and face turning a red flush like none others so really, he's not sure why he's so adamant in making you drink as well.

"hmm," you hum a suspicious tone, but san's already pouring the cup down his throat before you can finish, watching his eyes go round before passing it to you.

"try it."

and you do, the liquid barely touching your tongue when you can already taste the foreign citrusy and earthy flavor to the drink, your face twisting in response that makes san laugh.

"oh you love it," his teasing and sarcastic comment earning a scoff from you.

"why do people drink this stuff?" you say, the taste still lingering and passing the cup back to him.

"well, according to wooyoung: to have fun."

he's quick to pour the remains into the sink before tossing it to a nearby trashcan, his head prancing around looking for something to do.

"wanna dance?"

you follow his gaze to the dance floor, the confident and bold partygoers with their moves intimidating you a bit.

"i don't know." you look him in the eyes and his blank expression melting into a tender smile.

"come on. you're gonna have fun," he squeaks, pulling you by the wrist and to the dance floor, the strobing light hitting your eyes and making you squint.

"i don't know how to dance," you yell over the music to a slouching san attempting to hear you out, and when he does, a snicker escapes his lips before whispering into your ear.

"i'll teach you."

you don't get the chance to protest or hurl another complaint about your dancing skills (or lack thereof), san already spinning you around until your back's flushed against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder and arms wrapped around your waist as his breath ghosts the tip of your skin.

"just move along to the beat," he whispers, the goosebumps on your neck raising because of the position. the two of you never this close and sensual before.

but you do as he say, rocking slowly together in a romantic manner to the upbeat pop song but it is nice and brings upon a certain arousal between your legs.

everything with san has been like a dream, from the way he's so perfect you can't help but to question if it's real he's really your boyfriend, to how he treats you as if you saved a planet in the last life.

he really is everything you could ask for in a partner. funny, respectful, and just so fun, there's never a dull moment.

the two of you have been spending lots of time together, whether in between passing periods or just laying around in the dorm when chaewon's out--each day riskier than the one before with san's comments and remarks more daring and uncensored.

"how can i not have a boner when you're so pretty and hot, baby."

you were just laying on his chest in his bedroom and house that he's finally brought you around to, the place big and with a richness you've never seen before, when one of your knees accidentally brushed over his crotch area and you immediately questioned the bulge growing in his pants.

you've come to embrace his rather pervertedness than to shy away, now that there isn't much to hide between you guys; sometimes getting the itch yourself but much better at keeping it together in comparison.

"well, keep it in your pants," you tell him with a playful and dismissive tone, a smirk at the corner of your lips and going back to your phone.

"can i keep it inside you instead?"

the innuendo makes you lower your phone to shove his chest lightly as you yell out his name, his heaving chest from the laughter felt on the palm of your hand.

"just kidding. whenever you're ready, baby," he assures, pulling you closer by snaking one arm around your body and snuggling into the top of your now blonde hair that he helped you with.

it's really all jokes and passing comments at first, san not in the rush for it if you're not ready, and you not thinking much because you just like being with him and there's no pressure to get to that stage yet even though you know it's coming.

but you trust and believe in san enough at this point that if he wants to, you figure you'd give yourself up for him.

"we were just too different, i think. but it's okay. we ended it on good terms and there wasn't any bad feelings," he recalls the story of his ex after you had asked, your ears and eyes intrigued while sipping the cup of pepsi in your lap.

san had gotten a new car, gave you an entire tour on it although you lacked any knowledge besides the fact it's a sports car and said he wanted to go driving around.

after almost a whole day of sightseeing and places he wanted you to see, almost every restaurants closing except fast foods, you two stocked up on burgers and sodas, driving to a cliff overlooking the city and now just chit-chatting.

the current topic crossing your mind because of what his friends said just piquing your interest, and you're honestly just a little nosy.

"but we're different too, no?" you blurt, lashes fluttering at the fact, because you two are different. he's so much more extroverted and carefree, and you're well... you. but your next comment more lively and lighthearted. "does that mean we're also doomed?"

san chuckles and shakes his head.

"but we're a good different," he says with a soft smile. "me and her, we were a kind of different that was never gonna work out. but you, you try for me even if it's out of your comfort zone."

the compliment makes you detach from the straw to return a heartwarming smile, but all of that gone the second you ask the next question.

"is she the one you lost your virginity to?"

and san can't control the snicker that rolls out; the view of you so serious bringing him a form of amusement.

"well, yes. my only other girlfriend was freshman year of high school."

"ooh..." you mumble, nodding and shifting in your seat and san thinks it's the last of it until you're hurling out another one. "how was it?"

he scoffs, but you're dead serious, he don't know whether to laugh again or be amazed at how actually willing you are to talk about it.

"i'm not gonna talk about sex with someone else right in front of my girlfriend," he counters, head shaking but tone amused. "y/n, you cuck."

you roll your eyes at the name, sitting up and shrugging to mutter a response that gets a quiet chuckle out of him.

"just wanted to know how it's like."

"then go watch porn."

"they're too unrealistic and exaggerated," you reason. "the fake moans, crazy positions, and the fact everything always go perfectly."

san smirks, jumping the gun to tease you, "well how would you know, you never had sex before."

"pfft," you huff, the next sequence of words leaving without much thought. just that you want to win the banter. "that's 'cause you won't fuck me."

san stiffens in his seat immediately, both taken aback and aroused by what had just fallen from your lips, throwing a "woah!" that settles the reality for you as well.

"i'll fuck you, alright. if you let me, i'll fuck you good."

and he's only kidding, though a bit turned on, not actually expecting for you to go silent as if having to make the toughest decision ever, only for you to blurt out the green light that takes his breath away.

"t-then do it," you say, nervous and shaking a little, but also confident that you're ready and want to give yourself to the man in front of you, the food and drink between your thighs forgotten at this point.

"y-you're serious?" it's his turn to stutter, the turnout of the entire situation a bit unbelievable. "because if you're just playing with me, i think i might cry. you've already given me blue balls one too many times."

you giggle at the desperation and almost denial crossing his face, assuring him you're being truthful, but the man still won't stop talking as if he's a caveman finally securing the chance to get laid.

"no because you're so mean if--"

you cut him off with a kiss, the silence thickening and finally pulling away to his blinking and innocent lashes before something else entirely comes over him. the thin line on his lips turning to a smirk.

"you don't know what you just did," he mutters, deep and sinister and so sexy that your knees can't help but to go a little weak before he pulls you right back for an even messier kiss--tongue and all.

when you feel the food faltering, the drink now even colder and wetter against one of your thighs, you push him back lightly by the chest, mumbling a "wait" as he watches impatiently for you to remove the obstacles so he can resume the kiss.

it's immediate and happens fast, his lips connecting yours again with your fingers dipping around his shirt to find a place to rest, your breath taken away at this point by how eager he's moving that by the time he finally lets you catch your breath, it must've been a whole minute.

"just gonna come over to that side," he tells you ahead of time, your equally desperate body and head nodding before he climbs over and pushes your seat back, adjusting it just enough for you to be in an almost sleeping position.

and one thing leading to another, the night long gone and something else in yours and san's heads; for you, the fact you're about to lose your virginity in his new car and so sure but also shy of it when he's moved on from kissing to wanting to eat you out, but stopping when a sudden realization hits.

"are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, voice soft and eyes full of warmth unlike the person he was just five seconds ago.

you nod, muttering, "i'm sure."

"alright. then we're gonna have to go get condoms," he informs. "to be safe."

it's always a little embarrassing and flustering even for san although it shouldn't be, but a mere glance and reminder of you makes the awkward encounter at checkout worth it.

"should we go somewhere else more... private?" you voice concernedly, the car no longer secluded and with a view of the city but now in the parking lot of the 24 hours convenience store.

san swipes a few glances out the window and shakes his head.

"should be okay. there isn't anyone," he says, tone calm and not at all fazed unlike the current expression you have on that brings out the tiniest smirk from him. "why? scared someone's gonna see?"

he's cocky and annoying and kind of hot at the same time, you just roll your eyes.

"don't worry about it, babe," he assures once more, the softer and slight playfulness gone the next second. "now can i eat you out?"

and you've gotten accustomed to his blunt personality; how he just blurts and say things without a filter, but your face still gets a little hot and your cheeks still turns a blush pink.

you don't say anything except nodding your head slowly but surely, a minuscule smile on san's lips before crossing to your side again to settle on his knees as he stares up at you through the faint car lighting, his hands holding no hesitation to grip the end of your skirt while you widen your legs for easier access.

a whimper's followed by the biting of your lower lip when he's managed to bunch your skirt all the way up to your hips, the skin on your legs now more exposed than ever and feeling all kinds of naked under the eye of san's hungry gaze.

"no safety shorts?" he teases, that cocky tone making a comeback. "you want it quick and fast, don't you?"

you'd probably hit him if not for the fact he's right, the itch you have dying to be fulfilled by only him that all you can do is whine a pathetic, "h-hurry" never have a single word satisfied san so much to this extent.

with a smirk and eager pull, your panty's on the floor of the car and your bare flesh on display for san and he's sure he already came a little.

when you start growing insecure, never in your life have you reveal and give this much of yourself to someone before, san is quick to jump in and comfort you, mumbling the word 'beautiful' as he kisses up one of your thighs with his hand on the other until he's close to your entrance.

with one suck of his breath and grips spreading your legs apart, the loudest moan yet falls from you when he dives in, his lips dancing on your vagina already sending you into a frenzy.

your legs can't help but to jolt in the air instinctly from the pleasure, more hot moans befalling when he sucks on your clit.

"oh fuck," you curse, lower lip now caught in between your teeth again because your boyfriend can eat pussy, his tongue and skill continuing to prove the point as it generates more moans and prompts your grip to rest on his hair, groaning and looking up into the ceiling of the car.

he finally pulls away after a few more seconds, your already fucked out face and harsh breathing feeding into his ego, going to cockily say, "like that?"

you nod, still trying to recover from the high and seeing a smirk overtake his lips.

"i think you'll like my cock even more," he says, sly and teasing, reaching for the condom and ripping the packaging under your watchful eye.

his arms are shortly wrapped around your body after, flipping and switching position till he's the one being seated and you're sprawled all over his lap, knees guarding his legs and poking the cushion underneath, just up and gawking at him as if waiting for the next instruction.

"can you be a good cowgirl?" he whispers, looking you in the eyes so smugly and boldly.

"guess we'll find out," you mumble, trying the utmost best to sound like you're not just the tiniest bit intimidated by having to stuff his entire cock inside of you; and especially scared when he unzips his pants and it springs out immediately as if screaming to get out the entire time.

it's veiny and thick and san can see through the doubts in your head, a giggle rushing past to hopefully lighten the situation.

"take your time, baby," he comforts, soft and heartwarming unlike the monster in his pants. "i'll help you."

his hands travel down to your ass and lifts you up, both your grips now on his shoulders and attempting to line your entrace to his tip, a moan flying from san when his tip just touches one of your folds, the silent curse from him so sexy and stimulating.

it's your turn to giggle at the slip-up, the man doing his best on self control tonight when he really was ready to start ramming the instant you gave him the go, but because you're new to all of this and inexperienced, he has to take it slow; let you know that there isn't a single thing to be rushed.

you can feel the warmth of his flesh when you finally lined up, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your head into his chest as the attempt start; something inside you both nervous but also excited.

the first half is met by moans from the both of you and a burning sensation at the stretch, but still so persistent to take all of him. make you and him feel good and ride him; his passing comments only fueling more of that determination.

"shit, baby. y-you're so tight," he puffs, his clutch on you getting tighter the lower you go, until he's fully in you and you're both breathing out signs of relief met by a quick silence shortly after.

you remove your head from his chest to look him in the eyes, his features always the perfect mix of sharp, handsome, and cute; when he swipes at your forehead to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear, your stomach still flutters with butterflies despite the current position.

"you can move when you're ready," he says, breath against the tip of your skin when he presses his forehead to yours and take you in for another kiss. this time more messy and desperate, tongues clashing like it's the last time you're ever gonna kiss.

and once the makeout settles you in, the confidence and passion heating up, you start moving slowly with san's help, the pace picking up each time the kiss gets even deeper; moans and whimpers filling the air of the car until the fear's all gone and only replaced by the need for pleasure.

it feels good, and even better when he lands a slap to your ass while his other one squeezes at your breast, the seat creaking underneath but both too busy to care about anything else.

when your high's finally on the edge after a few more bounces, you tell him ahead of time, detaching from his lips and to his neck in preparation, your walls clenching and hitting its max just shortly after that also sends san into his climax from the sensation.

you pull back after catching your breath, staring into san's softer eyes before smiles and laughters take over the scene, san going on to ask, "how was it?"

"good," you answer. you can't believe you both just had sex in his new car.

mostly everything is still good; passing all your classes and still absolutely in love with san, every day learning something new about the other person as well as taking the time to explore what each other likes in bed.

mostly everything because you can't even remember the last time you had a proper conversation with jongho.

just a few weeks before the end of the semester, he already started coming to the library less and less until he just stopped showing completely.

his texts now always short and infrequent, nothing like the boy he was in high school when he'd send memes or daily complaints just to rack up your notifications.

every invitations to hang out or go somewhere with you and san always met with rejection. he's either busy with school works, has a club meeting, or already made plans with the members he met from the club.

you're happy for him and glad he's meeting new people, but you still can't help but to feel on the occasion that maybe he doesn't want to hang with you anymore now that he's met much cooler people; a bowling invitation yesterday that he also said no to although it's summer and you're sure he could spare just an hour or two.

because you love being with san and you're glad for chaewon's girl presence providing you an understanding and relatability neither san or jongho could, but you miss your best friend.

you miss having long discussions about the chosen movie of the night, sharing inside jokes and just talking about things only the two of you would get because he's been there for you since the fourth grade.

on the tuesday you have nothing to do in particular, you thought it's the perfect time to catch up and do something, even if just talking over slices of pizza.

you had texted him to make sure he's in the dorms and when he replied saying he is, you thought it'd be better to just walk the distance between the girls and boys dorms and ask him personally.

after all, he couldn't have too much on his schedule if it's summer.

but when the knock on his room isn't answered by him or his roommate who's hard to not remember, the disappointment that floods your system from seeing he has company is defeating.

"y/n?" you hear his voice from behind the much taller unnamed boy before his head peeks out.

"hey," you say, attempting your best to sound as normal as you can, and not like you're disappointed because you thought you were gonna get to spend some time with him.

"what's up?" he asks, face and body calm as if he hasn't been trying to avoid you. "you texted me. did you need anything?"

and you just panic then. all four boys staring you down and you can't possibly ruin their guy time by pulling your friend away just because you miss him.

"uhh--yeah. was just wondering if i can borrow your laptop. i'm gonna have to take mine to a repair shop tomorrow," you lie through your teeth, jumping onto the first thing that comes to mind.

"yeah, sure," he replies, turning his back on you to grab the laptop in his bag and handing it over once at the door again. "anything else?"

"ah--no," you stumble, retrieving the device and stumbling out a 'thank you' almost too awkwardly as a permanent smile stays on his face, but as if he's also waiting for you to be done with.

"well, i'll see you then," you mumble, hiding just the tiniest bit of sad behind your voice.

"i'll see you, y/n."

san said he will text you once he's on his way, so your head's currently against a pillow and scrolling through endless social feeds to pass time when the knock at the door gets you on your feet.

you half expect it to be chaewon because she forgot something, but the sight of your best friend takes your breath away a little, because maybe he's finally realized just how long you two have been apart.

"hi. i came to get my laptop."

your growing smile's wiped off that instant, only watching as jongho walks past you into the room with wandering eyes as you close the door.

"it's true girls are cleaner than guys," he comments, yours and chaewon's things neatly placed and arranged to the belonging side, nothing like his and yeosang's.

but you don't reply nor react to the comment, instead pulling his laptop out of the drawer that's been there since yesterday and still untouched because yours is completely fine, figuring you'll just try one last time.

"you know, you should really come bowling with me and san," you say, the same time you return his laptop.

you can see the exact moment he tenses up at your words and all composure from him before now gone.

you can also see the wheel spinning in his head and scrambling for an excuse because it's almost like despite asking, you knew he's gonna say no.

"eh, it's fine. i gotta catch up with some of the guys anyway. seonghwa's making us come up with a list of possible club activities for next semester."

it's a plausible and reasonable excuse, but still not good enough because you don't want to think about how much a semester of college's already drove the two of you apart.

"but you guys have fun. maybe another time," he tells you, completely unsuspecting to the apprehension on you or the conflict running round in your head.

"and when is that gonna be exactly?" your surprisingly abrasive tone stopping him before reaching the door, jongho turning around and meeting your unamused eyes.

"you always say the same thing whenever i ask," you add, the atmosphere scarily shifting when it all dawns on jongho how serious you are.

"it's true, though? i really can't today."

"i asked you two days in advance. you couldn't at the very least try and make some room?"

you're fast and filled with hurt, jongho's struggling to process the sudden hostility. he thought he was doing you a favor, to be fair.

"i didn't think it was gonna be this big of a deal?" he says, pitch high and confused almost like a question, because it isn't his intention to make you feel like he doesn't want to hang with you anymore.

"when was even the last time we did something together?" your voice a kind of disbelief because you feel you have the right to complain considering how long it really has been.

but jongho still looks rather unconvinced, like he doesn't understand why you're bringing it up and turning it into something to argue about.

"i didn't think it mattered all that much whether i was with you or not since san was there."

since you looked so happy with him and he could do two times more for you than jongho could, he didn't see it a problem if he let you guys be while he took some time for himself. to process the changes and come to terms with everything.

and it's obvious you weren't expecting the response by how you kind of just freeze up momentarily and swallows down before eventually finding something to say.

"of course it matters. you're my best friend, and it'd be even better if you could be there, too."

"but i can't always be with you," he counters, appreciative that you never forget him, always asking him to tag along with you and san but you also don't seem to be processing the changes as well.

all the perks that comes with being in a relationship and how jongho just can't stick and follow you like a lost puppy because you have someone else to be directing all the love and attention to.

he adds, "i only said no because i thought it'd be better for you to spend time with san alone. the dude's cool and all but i think even he'd have a problem if i was to tag along with him and his girlfriend all the time."

san already saw through him once and jongho doesn't want any chances of reviving his suspicions.

"you could've just told me that, you know... instead of avoiding us," you say, after a few seconds of silence because it felt like the entire thing could've been made much less dramatic if he did.

"yeah..." he mutters under his breath, "i'm sorry."

"it's fine," you dismiss, swallowing the knot in your throat. "but i hope you know... just because i'm with san now, it doesn't change anything between me and you. you're still someone special to me. someone nobody else can be. i do love san, but he also isn't you..."

san can't seem to get your words out of his head.

"but i hope you know… just because i'm with san now, it doesn't change anything between me and you. you're still someone special to me. someone nobody else can be. i do love san, but he also isn't you…"

it wasn't in his intention to snoop or listen in, his arrival coincidentally just in time to hear the voices coming from the room and even more surprised when he heard jongho's.

"i only said no because i thought it'd be better for you to spend time with san alone. the dude's cool and all but i think even he'd have a problem if i was to tag along with him and his girlfriend all the time."

it was jongho's initial response that took his attention, not wanting to listen any further on a conversation that he wasn't meant to hear, but now intrigued and curious because he didn't think it'd be him who was the topic.

each second feeling the thickening tension even though he was just a witness, but it was clear you guys just had an argument. and when he decided he'd just go wait for you in his car until you text or call back, he didn't expect your mumbling voice and words to hit so hard.

"i do love san, but he also isn't you…"

words that makes him sit in his car and just contemplate because it was exactly what he was afraid of: possibly taking you from jongho when he likes you as well.

you and jongho have a chemistry and bond even he's a little jealous of. the boy with the upper hand because he's known you since forever so it's natural you would be the most comfortable around him.

san understands and acknowledges that, but if it doesn't make him insecure at times, he'd by lying. and now for you to say that, it only heightens his worst insecurities.

hey, i'm sorry. something came up. but i should be ready now. are you in your car? ❤️ - y/n

yeah 🙂 - san

he greets and kisses you upon arrival like any other day, your pretty presence getting in his car and him driving to the bowling alley a couple blocks from campus.

but how you know something's bothering him is how easy he is to read. always so loud and chaotic but now all of a sudden so quiet to the point you're doing most of the talking.

and by how much of his balls are landing in the gutters, it only confirms the thought; carefully thinking of how to bring it up once you two finally gets back to the car, you asking a soft, "you okay, baby?" that snaps his head towards you.

even his response a bit dazed as he tells you he's good.

"if something's bothering you, you can tell me," you assure him, sympathetic and loving eyes his direction.

san isn't very good at holding back even if he tries, his heart always on his sleeves and his emotions big and reactive. he's never been one to be afraid at expressing himself so he doesn't see the need to be now.

he lets a low sigh escapes first, not exactly scared of telling you what it is, but of your response.

"i heard what you said to jongho," he breaks it, voice sharp and a bit grumpy.

"oh," is the response that slips because you had a feeling, his text from 20 minutes ago showing on your lockscreen when jongho finally left, but the conversation wasn't exactly of any importance to yours and san's relationship... at least you don't think.

"did i say something wrong?" you ask, nerves beginning to tense because you would never do it intentionally.

"i don't know if wrong's the word, but it definitely hurts to hear i'm not the one despite being your boyfriend," he says, a mix of sad but also cute with a pout, you can't help but to find it a little endearing because you love him so much and don't know why he would ever think that.

"i would never say that," you barely defend, causing the pout on him to be paired with angry brows because he don't know why you look like you want to smile. he's in a literal crisis.

"but you did. you said you love me but i'm not jongho, so i don't know how anyone's supposed to interpret that?''

he's puzzled when you just giggle instead, shaking your head.

"san," you say his name with a certain fondness and love, "yes, you're not him. but he's also not you. you both are so different but special to me in your own ways, i meant to say that... if only you had stayed longer."

you watch the apprehension on his face turn a calm one at the realization; his droopy lips settling to its normal shape again as he lets out an, "oh."

"yeah. but i do love you. as my boyfriend and partner." you smile as you see him try to fight an even bigger one at your consolation.

"i love you too," he returns, his heart now fully rested and relieved.

jongho thinks about what you said to him. how much love you have for him and how much he means to you... as a friend.

and as he watches you get out of san's car, a sight he wasn't really meant to see but more so an overlap he just so happened to come from the library the same time--he's happy you're in the hands of someone like san.

he knows he will treat you right and make you feel like the most special girl in the world.

and one day, jongho will find someone who he can give the love san's given you, and it won't hurt anymore.

taglist: @moonchele @svintsandghosts @imcoenffl

#take a shot #for every one of my fics #where i mention san's dimples #choi san x reader #san x reader #jongho x reader #ateez angst #ateez x reader #ateez smut #san smut

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glimmeringtwilight · 2 years

Text

Playing Nice | Yandere Scaramouche x Reader

this wasn't even intended to be a fic but here we are. modern au scaramouche wooo. This was spurred on by a conversation with a friend about what job scaramouche would have in a modern au. She made a very compelling argument for marketing

CW: alcohol use (reader gets drunk), yandere themes, implied captivity, drugging mention

Word count: 3.1k

Scaramouche is a terrible coworker.

You both work in marketing, and though he's the department lead and technically your boss, he has no jurisdiction to actually fire you, as much as he may threaten it.

He's been more insufferable as of late, though. Constantly nitpicking your work, berating you if you show up even a minute late to meetings– and even then, most days it's because he sends you out on a fool's errand, last minute, before the meeting. You know he does it on purpose so he has an excuse to heckle you once you step into the meeting room, but you've decided on malicious compliance at this point.

Just last week, even, Miko called you into her office to discuss your tardiness because Scaramouche had some complaints. When you explained– as professionally as you could with Scaramouche glaring daggers at you– what the real reason for you being late to meetings (and sometimes even missing them entirely) was, Miko merely tittered and smiled knowingly.

You were sent back to your desk, listening to Scaramouche arguing with the boss through the door as it shut behind you. At the time, you'd wondered where he found the balls to do it. Though Miko's never been outright cruel to you, something about her makes you nervous.

Later, when you'd ranted about it to Sara in the breakroom, she'd told you it's because he's related to the CEO. It explains a lot. Namely: how he hasn't been fired yet or recieved anything more than a writeup or two after the dozens of complaints you've filed with HR.

You'd considered quitting. Multiple times. Scaramouche is, for lack of a kinder word, a prick.

...But. The pay is good, the benefits are phenomenal, and when you'd gone searching for jobs, none of them paid even half as much as your current one for this position. So, begrudgingly, you stay.

Miko even offered you a substantial raise when she gave you your first yearly review, as "acknowledgement for your professionalism and work ethic." You know how to read between the lines. "Thanks for putting up with him. Play nice," she means.

Maybe Miko thinks it's funny, watching Scaramouche burst a blood vessel over you. You honestly don't care. If she's going to pay you extra for tolerating him, you're not going to look it in the mouth.

It's not like Scaramouche is the worst possible coworker you could have. He's passive aggressive, sure. He's arrogant. He's got a fuse that's roughly the size of a hangnail. But his backhanded comments don't cut you anymore, and you're sure you’ve had worse coworkers– ones you weren't paid extra to play nice with.

Frankly, it's less his attitude and more the way he... fixates. Sure, he's miserable to just about everyone in the office, but you're not blind to the way he singles you out. He's even told you, once, when you asked him to have someone else do the coffee run, that you're the only one here who does an acceptable job.

Not a good job, no. He posits that only he can meet his own impossible standards (and you're inclined to agree, frankly), but that such things are beneath him and he doesn't have the time for it. Heizou jokes that he must have a crush on you, or something, because Scaramouche goes out of his way to pester you more than anyone else in the office.

"In fact, he actually used to keep to himself before you came along," He tells you, nudging your side and grinning as you pick at a lackluster tuna salad. As though you're supposed to find the thought of Scaramouche having a crush on you endearing.

You're sure it's not a crush, though. Scaramouche treats you like the bane of his existence– that's not how you treat a crush unless you're an angsty fourth grader. You think he just has some petty, asinine reason to dislike you, and it's not in his nature to get over it.

Then, one day, as though the universe had finally had enough of your plight, you hear the best news you've heard in your year-and-a-half of working at the company:

Scaramouche put in his two weeks.

Apparently, a headhunter from some big-shot startup had sought him out, offered him a high-paying position– a job with actual power to fire people on the spot. You know he doesn't deserve it. You already pity the poor souls who will have to work under him. But you still celebrate, and lie through your teeth with a grin as you pat him on the back and congratulate him on the job.

You don't ask him the company name, the details of his position, the specifics of his pay. You don't care about any of that. What matters most to you is that he's leaving.

For his part, the excitement of a new job wore off the day after he put in his two weeks.

He became... agitated. About what, you didn't know, but Scaramouche was constantly on edge during his last few weeks at the company. You didn't let it get to you, though– if anything, he was a lot more tolerable than he's ever been. He stopped singling you out as much, stopped berating you for minor mistakes, stopped hovering by your desk to correct spelling errors on whatever it was you were currently working on.

But watching the same man that would constantly berate you just... stare blankly out the windows towards the skyline, or at the wood grain of his desk... it was a little unsettling. After about a week of his weird, silent brooding, you decided to be nice to him for his last week at the company.

Not that you were ever mean to him, no! You were civil to him, no matter how much he tested you. But only just.

And besides, after this week you wouldn't see him ever again, outside the rare occasion he might visit his... whatever Miko is to him, at the office. The moping was starting to bother you anyways.

So, every day this week you've gone out of your way to bring him coffee in the morning, making sure to get his order right every time. He gives you a strange look each time you bring it to him, and stares at you from across the room for a full minute before even taking a sip of it, but you try to ignore it. He probably thinks you slipped laxatives into it (tempting, but you know better).

Then, on his last day, as you set the coffee down on his desk and are met with that same look, you tell him you'll miss him around the office.

You won't actually, but he doesn't need to know that. The bleeding heart in you does feel bad for him, as miserable as he is. He probably doesn't have many friends.

So... Even if it is a lie, you'll let him think he'll be missed. And you don't mention that you're definitely going to open a bottle of champagne once you get home after today.

But then he does something you don't expect.

"Have dinner with me."

You blink. "....Huh?"

Scaramouche's eyes narrow with obvious annoyance and he opens his mouth like he's about to snap at you, but then stops himself. You watch, dumbfounded, as he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose and repeats himself. "Have dinner with me."

"Why?" You fire back immediately, forgetting your vow to be as nice as possible to him. He must see the distrust on your face, because he backpedals.

"Not like that, idiot. A celebration dinner. You're free to invite anyone you like, I don't care." He waves his hand dismissively at the rest of the office, at Sara and Heizou, the latter of which you know is listening to this conversation.

You must be hesitating a beat too long, because Scaramouche adds, "It's on me."

"Deal."

He nods, mumbles a quiet "I'll drive you after work," then turns his attention pointedly away from you and back towards his monitor, signaling the conversation is over. You know him well enough by now not to be bothered.

When you sit down at your own desk and glance at Heizou, he immediately shakes his head. "I'll pass. As tempting as it is, I plan to celebrate on my own tonight."

You barely even glance at Sara before she pipes up, "No thanks."

You sigh. It looks like it'll just be you and your insufferable coworker, then. You could phone a friend, sure, but many of them work nights, and you don't think Scaramouche is willing to wait. At the very least, you'll take advantage of his sudden kindness as a means of getting free drinks.

A reward for your patience, you think. And penance for him being such a prick in the year you've known him.

So, when the day ends, you gather your things and head out into the parking lot, spotting Scaramouche by his car. He's leaning against the driver-side door, looking at his phone, and he doesn't even look up as you approach. Just jabs his thumb in the direction of the passenger seat and opens his own door.

You get in after him, buckling in and trying not to bristle when he props an arm behind your headrest to reverse out of his spot– the only spot with shade, and the one he insisted was only to be used by him. You can't wait to park in his spot every day after he leaves.

As you sit stiffly in the passenger seat and Scaramouche sets off in the direction of whatever restaurant it was he had in mind, you're struck by how... weird it is. You've known him for a year and a half, and you've never interacted with him outside of work, but he invites you to a celebration dinner out of the blue on his last day.

...Well. As long as you don't let him touch anything you eat or drink you'll be fine. You don't think he has it in him to drug you, but he is probably petty enough to slip laxatives into someone's food or drink. You can't put it past him, honestly.

Besides, you've already resolved that you're going to thoroughly celebrate his leaving. And if he's willing to pay for it? All the better.

His car is expensive, and surprisingly pristine. It looks like he hardly uses it, and it still has that new car smell– as well as something minty you can't quite place, but you don't see any air fresheners anywhere.

Still. The ride is awkward. Scaramouche drives in complete silence– doesn't try to make small talk, doesn't even spare you a glance. You're kind of afraid to ask him to turn on the radio, not wanting to sour his good mood and have him kick you out of his car, or something. So you sit in silence.

When you get to the restaurant, Scaramouche doesn't even wait for you before stepping out, and you rush to get out as well before the doors automatically lock on you. He's already halfway up the stairs leading to the entrance as you jog up to him, and if you didn't know any better, it's like he's trying to get away from you.

Still. You bite your tongue.

The two of you step into the restaurant and your jaw almost drops. It's... obviously expensive. You didn't look at the name before you entered, too busy catching up to your coworker, but from the decor to the way everyone seated at the tables is dressed, you can tell that he's taken you to a high-end restaurant.

He must want to show off, you think. He's getting a substantial pay raise, so you're not too surprised. But it doesn't ease the slight burn of embarrassment you feel at how... underdressed you are. You're just in your normal work clothes– a dress shirt and some black jeans that could almost pass as slacks.

Scaramouche, of course, is dressed appropriately. But only because he always dresses like that. You used to wonder why he would wear such expensive clothes to his regular office job, but as you watch the hostess greet Scaramouche with familiarity and ask, "your usual table?" you're beginning to understand why. Does he just... eat here after work? On a regular basis? You can't imagine him coming here on dates, with how high his standards are for everything else.

The two of you are seated at a quiet booth in the back, too large for just two people, but Scaramouche doesn't seem to care about that fact. He immediately orders for the both of you without glancing at the menu, as well as a bottle of wine, and waves the waiter off with a blasé sort of impatience that would have made your hackles rise if you still worked in food service.

Then, once the waiter's out of sight, Scaramouche leans back comfortably against the booth and stares at you.

You glance around uncomfortably and realize the other tables are empty. ...Maybe you should have forced Heizou or Sara to come, after all.

"So," He starts, and you jolt a little as he breaks the silence between you two for the first time since getting in the car with him. "You're going to miss me, huh?"

You're confused, at first. But then you remember the comment you made earlier. "...Yeah. It's going to be weird not having you there at the office." Peaceful, you leave unsaid.

He hums, a small, satisfied smile crawling onto his face, and you bite your tongue.

He doesn't say anything else, and, in fact, seems unbothered by the tense silence. You sit there unsure of yourself until the waiter comes back with the food and the bottle of wine as well as two wine glasses.

Scaramouche waits until you're a bite into your meal to speak again.

"Do you want to be my assistant?"

You almost choke on the bite you'd taken, sputtering and swallowing harshly to croak out, "W-What?"

He pours you a glass of wine and hands it to you, watching as you gulp down two large sips of wine to settle your coughing. You wish the waiter would have brought water, as well, but he's already left and you don't think many of the service staff check back here; especially not if Scaramouche treats them like he does his coworkers.

"I'll pay you double what you currently make," He continues, once you've stopped coughing.

"...Why me?"

"Because you do your job, and you do it well. What other reason do I need?"

"Oh," You mutter lamely, and take a slow sip of wine, holding the glass with both hands so you have something to occupy them.

Scaramouche watches you in silence, tapping his finger impatiently against the table. You realize there's no getting out of answering this.

"I... appreciate the offer," You start, smiling as kindly as you can manage when his eye twitches and he turns his head the other way, clearly no longer listening, "But no thank you. I like my current job, and money isn't a concern of mine right now."

You couldn't pay me nearly enough to work under you, you think.

Your coworker huffs, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Suit yourself."

The rest of your meal is spent in silence, with you uncomfortably downing probably three glasses of wine just to alleviate your nerves. You know you shouldn't drink quite so much, but Scaramouche tops off your glass before you can even finish it without batting an eye, and you're trying your hardest to make the best of this night.

The alcohol helps, at least. You loosen up, filling the silence with idle small talk, which Scaramouche half-assedly reciprocates. He looks mildly annoyed by your chattiness but it doesn't deter you.

You gather that his new job is still in marketing– this new company seems to be a tech company that largely deals with the military, actually, but some of their product will be sold to the general public. You don't really... retain much more than that, the night fuzzing together after that point.

The waiter comes back at some point for the bill, and Scaramouche pays in cash, already standing up to haul you out of your seat.

"We're leaving. Get up," He hisses, tugging you roughly up by the arm when you don't immediately move. "Idiot."

Whatever. You take it on the chin, letting Scaramouche lead you out of the restaurant– or drag, more like– and back to his car. You're used to his abrasiveness by now, and this is the last night you'll have to put up with him. Besides, he paid for your dinner and your drinks.

This time, he opens the passenger-side door for you.

"What a gentleman," You snicker, undeterred by the scowl you get in response. He lets go of you as soon as you're in, slamming the door behind you.

You don't remember the drive, dozing off as soon as Scaramouche starts the engine. There's bits and pieces– someone jostling you awake, stumbling up some steps as a harsh grip on your bicep leads you inside, then collapsing onto a bed.

This… is not your house. It's the first thing you register when you come to.

The room is dark, so you can’t see anything, but there’s an unfamiliar hum of the A/C coming from somewhere else in the house, the sheets are too cold and too soft to be your own, and the alarm on the nightstand reading 3:00AM is not one you recognize.

The second thing you register is the pressure of something around your throat, the arm wound around your waist, the chest at your back.

You meet resistance when you try to bring your arms in front of you, trying to process what's happening as your head throbs something wicked. Scaramouche must have brought you to his place last night. That’s… fine. You didn’t tell him where you live, and you were probably too out of it for him to ask. But why–

"I did give you the choice, you know," A familiar voice pipes up behind you. The arm around your waist tightens when you flinch.

Why are your arms tied behind your back? You tug again, meeting the same resistance and feeling whatever he used to tie them rub abrasively at your skin.

“What the fuck–”

"I should have figured you'd make this difficult," He sighs, nose digging against your nape as you're pulled closer. Blunt nails bite into your hip. "You always do."

You try to pull away and his grip turns crushing; the air is forced from your lungs by the arm wound around you. His other hand comes up to grab you by the throat when you open your mouth to scream.

“Ah, ah. Be good.” You shut your mouth and your skin crawls at the satisfied chuckle you hear from behind you as Scaramouche settles back down against the sheets. “See? Good for something, after all.”

The hand around your throat doesn’t budge. Your head is still reeling through the pain. A finger taps at your jugular and you flinch again.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll deal with you in the morning.”

Scaramouche quiets down, and you stare blankly into the darkness of the room, wondering just what the hell you got yourself into.

…Maybe playing nice wasn't such a good idea, after all.

#i didn't realllyyyy edit this #i tried to edit it bc i sat down and wrote like 2.3k words in one sitting #but aughhh i just can't do it #i'm illiterate. sorry #literally what came over me though #anyway tag time #yandere #scaramouche #scaramouche/reader #scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche/reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #kunikuzushi #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #my writing #dead dove do not eat #cw: alcohol #btw there is no drvggng it's just mentioned as like a possibvility #also eimiko is canon in this au. miko is his stepmom #im really tempted to write a p2 where miko ''''''helps'''''' reader out :)#and/or. maybe heizou and sara. weirdly enough this makes me want to write heizou/reader/sara #i didn't poke fun at scara as much as i thought i did in hindsight #there IS one short jab in there but it's not outright ''haha short''#friendly fire is turned ON at all times and i like to aim for the knees #i always feel a little goofy adding an edgy looking banner bc idk how to be Aesthetic™️

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