#I mean this is the reason I have an internship and I’m sure going to be reflecting on it cause I have classes that are reflecting on it but | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lainiespicewrites · 1 year ago

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Professor Superman

A/N okay this one's a one-shot I've been working on. I'm kinda nervous because I've never written for Clark. Let me know what you think!!

Summary: Reader is a student of Clarks who gets an internship at the Daily Planet. Clark is proud but his feelings take a turn when he realizes Lois is taking her to Gotham for research. He wants to protect her at all costs.

Warnings: Cursing, attempted kidnapping, smut, oral (female receiving) praise kink, Sex P n V, Unprotected sex, Creampie.

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I stared blankly for a moment, at the door in front of me. My heart was racing as I tried to will my hand to move. I only had to ask a simple question. Yet, I can not bring myself to know on the door. If I didn’t do this. I would likely fail the assignment and the internship. But the man was so smart and intense. I was too intimidated by him. What if I could not speak and only caused myself to look like a fool? I’d surely lose the internship then.

I took a deep breath looking down at the paper in my hand. I had to do this. This is important. I looked back at the closed office door in front of me. Tentatively, I reached up and tapped my knuckles lightly against the wood.

“Come in,” A gentle male voice answered my knock. With a shaky breath, I forced a smile on my face and grabbed the handle opening the door. His eyes shifted from his computer as I took a step into his office. A warm smile spread across his face once he recognized me.

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Kent, I’ve finished my paper and I just wanted to ask if you could look over my revisions?” My voice came out quieter than I’d planned. I often had that problem when speaking to him.

“It’s no bother at all, I’ve been expecting you to drop by. Take a seat, I’d be happy to look it over.” He offered, gesturing to the chair in front of him. Professor Kent teaches a Journalism class at the university. He also works full-time for the Daily Planet paper. He’s incredibly intelligent. Each year he considers a few of his students for an internship with the newspaper. But only one of us could earn that position. I really want it. And currently, I’m one of his top candidates.

I took a seat across from him trying to calm my nerves as I extended the paper out to him. He met my eyes. “You know, Journalism is more than just writing, and telling a captivating story. It’s about doing things that scare you, doing things that make you uncomfortable to chase down what you want to find.” He looked down at my shaky fingers as he slid the paper from my grip.

“I understand that you’re nervous. But you have no reason to be. You continue to surprise me with just how far you’ll go with each assignment you turn in. If I were to make the final decision…” He paused looking up to make sure the door was closed, so no one would hear. “The internship would be yours,” he smiled. I blushed.

“Thank you, Professor Kent. That means a lot.” I relaxed a bit as he leaned forward in his chair and started to read through my article. This article is my final piece. And it’s what will be submitted to the Daily Planet as my entry for the internship. I bit my lip awkwardly, trying desperately not to stare at his face as he read. His fingers tapped on the table as he looked up from the desk.

“Y/n, This is incredible.” He smiled. My cheeks flushed staring down at my hands in my lap.

“You don’t have to say that,” I stuttered.

“I don’t,” He agreed, “But it’s true. I’ve only been teaching on campus for about 5 years but I’ve never had a student as dedicated as you. I’m impressed. I think Ms. Lane will be too.” I nodded, giving him a shy smile. “Are you ready to turn this in?” He asked. I nodded letting out a deep breath.

“Yeah, yes. I think so.” I said. He let out a chuckle.

“Don’t be nervous. It’s great. I’ll take this in, first thing tomorrow.” He gave me a gentle smile.

“Thank you, So much. Professor Kent. I appreciate all you help!” I said as I stood to leave his office.

“Of course,” he paused. His eyes scanned me for a moment. But I was buzzing with too much nervous energy to notice the way they lingered. “And please call me Clark, I have a feeling we’ll be working together before long.” He winked. My heart pounded in my chest and I felt my cheeks heat up.

“Thank you…Clark.” I smiled. He gave me an approving nod before I turned and left his office.

The next week was agony. We had two more classes with Professor….Clark, each time I stayed behind to ask if he’d heard anything. And each time he would give me a sympathetic smile and tell me to “hang in there,” just a little while longer. I should hear soon. He assured me that I was a good writer and that I shouldn’t get discouraged. But I couldn’t help it. Now it was almost 5 pm on Friday, surely if they didn’t call soon I wouldn’t know anything until Monday.

I paced my apartment phone in hand begging it to ring. But when I checked the time at 5:30 and still, nothing. I gave up. I let out a deep sigh, setting my phone down walking to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. I set the glass on the counter and popped the cork. I filled the glass and almost dropped the bottle. My phone was ringing. I quickly set the bottle down and ran to the living room picking up the phone. I didn’t even check the number before I answered.

“Hello?” I answered almost out of breath.

“Hello, is this Y/n?” a female voice asked. I nodded but then remembered I was on the phone and quickly found my voice.

“Yes, Ma’am, it is,” I answered her. She didn’t miss a beat.

“Great, This is Lois Lane, with the Daily Planet. I understand this is a bit late on a Friday evening but do you have time to meet with me at the office tonight?” my mind raced trying to find the right words.

“Sure, I can be there in 15 minutes. If that’s alright?” I asked her. We agreed on the time and after I thanked her, the call ended.

I very quickly realized I was not in the proper attire for this meeting. I was in running shorts and a hoodie. I tore through my closet trying to find a pair of dress pants that would work. I found a simple white cotton top to pair them with and some flats and ran out the door. I fixed my messy bun in the apartment building's front doors before starting to walk. The Daily Planet’s main office was only a few blocks away. I got it to the building just in time and made my way inside.

At the front desk, I introduced myself and was directed up to the 4th floor for my meeting with Lois. I stepped on the elevator and pushed the button for my floor. I was starting to shake from the nerves. When the doors opened I was met with a familiar face. Standing at a desk a few feet away Clark was standing talking to a woman with auburn hair and kind eyes. They both looked up when the elevator sounded.

“Y/n,” He smiled. “I’m glad you could make it.” I smiled at him and the woman stood and turned to greet me.

“Miss Y/n, I’m Lois Lane. It’s nice to meet you.” she offered a kind smile. I shook her hand and she gestured for me to sit with her at her desk. “As you’re aware you and others from Mr. Kent's journalism course at the university have been under review for an internship with the Daily Planet. I would have just called but Clark insisted for you to come into the office.” She chuckled softly.

I looked up at Clark nervously, he squeezed my shoulder reassuring me. “Y/n,” Lois continued. “The Daily Planet would like to officially offer you the internship starting next week.” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.

“Thank you, Ms. Lane, I accept that offer. When do I start?” I asked, eagerly. She chuckled softly.

“I’ll send you an email with all of the details on Monday. You should be able to start with us on Tuesday.” I nodded.

“Thank you again,” I said. She nodded, giving me a smile.

“Of course. We’re excited to work with you,” she stood and started to gather her things. “I apologize, I’m not trying to rush you out of here. I’ve got a date this evening I don’t want to be late for. Clark, can you walk her out?” Clark nodded waving to Lois as she already started to head toward the elevator.

“Of course, I can, sorry for keeping you Lo, have fun tonight.”He winked. Lois rolled her eyes at him.

“Forever the gentleman,” she laughed, “ I’ll see you next week,” she said as the elevator doors closed behind her.

“I told you we’d be working together soon!” Clark chuckled. I turned to face him but I couldn’t find the words. Without thinking I wrapped my arms around his middle hugging him. He was a bit surprised at first but he returned the hug.

“Thank you,” I said softly. Remembering myself I pulled away quickly, my face flushed and embarrassed. “I-I’m so sorry, that was incredibly unprofessional. I-” Clark cut off my rambling.

“It’s alright. You earned this. And you’re going to do amazing things here, I’m sure.” He squeezed my shoulder encouragingly. “Let me walk you out.” I nodded and waited while he got his jacket off of his desk chair. We rode down in the elevator together and walked out through the main lobby. “Where’d you park?” He asked, offering to walk me to my car.

“Oh, um, I walked actually, I live close by,” I told him. Clark looked out the front doors and watched as rain was coming down outside. He frowned.

“Could I give you a ride? Call me old school but I certainly can’t let you walk home in this rain.”

I hesitated for a second. He looked back out at the rain and back to me, his eyes full of sincerity.

“Uh, I mean, it’s really not far,” I argued. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. Just that my head was starting to get kindness and flirtation confused. I already embarrassed myself once with him today.

“It’s pouring rain, Y/n, it's no trouble I promise.” He countered. I gazed back outside. He was right, it had started to pour. I would be soaked just stepping out into it. Let alone walking all the way home. I looked back to Clark and nodded.

“Okay,” I spoke softly. I watched as Clark pushed the door open and then opened up his umbrella. Of course, he was prepared. I look even more foolish now.

“Come on,” He smiled. “There’s enough space for both of us under here.” He chuckled. He walked us out to his car and opened my door for me holding the umbrella while I got in so I wouldn’t get wet.

It was quiet for a moment while he started the car. I had to remind myself again that just because a man is being nice doesn’t mean he’s interested. I looked over at him, his head turned back as he pulled out of the parking spot. I don’t know when I’d developed this little crush on him but it had to stop now. God, he was handsome though. His jaw was sharp, but his eyes were a soft but intense blue. His curls were dark and I found I desperately wanted to know what it felt like to drag my fingers through them. I shook my head. No, he’s my professor. He’s at least 15 years older than me. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. He surely didn’t see me that way. And we work together now. I have to be professional.

I pushed down my thoughts and focused, directing Clark to my apartment building. He paused abruptly when I pointed out the parking lot. He crooked an eyebrow his face completely surprised.

“No, this is it? Really?” He asked.

“Uh… yeah” I answered hesitantly. Clark let out an awkward chuckle.

“I’m sorry, It’s just funny. I live in the building too. I’m on the 5th floor.” He said. My brows raised completely shocked.

“I’m on 3.” I stuttered.

“I can’t believe we’ve never run into each other.” He laughed dumbfounded. We got out of the car. Clark met me with the umbrella. We took the elevator up together.

“Have a great evening,” He started “I’ll see you next week,” He smiled. I blushed softly.

“You too Clark,” I said as the elevator opened to my floor.

“Oh and if you ever need a ride to work, Just let me know,” he winked. I giggled softly and waved as the doors closed.

I’m royally fucked.

I started with the Daily Planet the following Tuesday. I expected that they would have me refill copy machines or make coffee or file documents in the archives. I was shocked when I was given an assignment. It wasn’t in the field. It wasn’t going to be printed. But they told me if I wanted to eventually work for the planet then seeing how I handled personal assignments was key. It was due to Lois at the end of the week. Only 4 days to do research and write the article. I sat at my desk and poured over everything I could get my hands on. It felt a little lonely. My desk was farther away from the main writers and it was a bit smaller. But it would do. Clark and sometimes a few of the others would offer me to join them for lunch during the week but I usually skipped it. This was important. If I wanted to earn respect and make myself a place around here this had to be good.

On Friday I was once again working at my desk, typing like mad trying to finish and edit my article.

“You don’t have to work yourself so hard. You’ve already earned your spot you know?” Clark's voice said from somewhere next to me.

“How many of your students have been hired on at the Planet after the internship Mr Kent?” I asked. He started to protest the question. Then he let out a deep sigh leaning against my desk.

“Two,” He answered honestly.

“I may have the internship, but I haven’t earned my place here.I have your respect but I have to earn it with the others,” I replied. He nodded, his eyes connecting with mine.

“Can you at least break for lunch?” He pleaded.

“I’m going to eat at my desk. I’m almost finished. And this has to be done and on Lois’ desk by 2 pm. She leaves early today.” His eyes were sad but I knew he understood.

I finished the article. I waited nervously at my desk waiting for Lois to call me over.

“This is good,” she said when she finally did. “You have work to do, I want to see how your research improves when you're out on the field. But for just starting, this is great.” She added. I nodded waiting for more. I knew she wasn’t finished.

“Next week you’ll be coming with me, I’m doing expose research in Gotham, I want you to come to observe and take notes,” she stated. I nodded again.

“I’ll be there, Thank…”

“Lois, Gotham’s dangerous you can’t take her with you.” Clark interrupted. Lois peered up at him over my shoulder.

“Clark,” She sighed. “All due respect. You’ve taught her all you can in the classroom. But I’m her teacher now. And the best way to learn research is out in the field hands-on.” She retorted.

“I’ll be with Lois, I’ll be okay,” I assured him. He wasn’t having it.

“She won’t learn anything if she gets hurt. The crime rate in Gotham has skyrocketed it isn’t worth the risk. Does Perry know about this?” He asked. Lois scoffed.

“As a matter of fact, he does. He’s already approved it.” she told him I don’t know what came over me. If I was angry that he was trying to stop me from going when this was my chance to earn my way in. Or if I was angry he thought I was weak.

“And, I can take care of myself! I don’t need you hovering like I’m so fragile! You may have taught me but I got myself this far, Mr. Kent. We’ll be just fine.” I snapped. Clark stared dumbfounded. His mouth hung open, he was at a loss for words. Actually, everyone was staring.

“Shows over,” Lois spoke loudly “You can all get back to work,” she announced. I looked back at her apologetically.

“Lois, I..” Clark started. She quickly cut him off.

“Clark, I have to leave, I don’t have time for this. It’s settled she’s going,” She looked back at me, her eyes softer and sympathetic. “I’m out for the day, and you’ve finished your work, If you’d like to go now your welcome, I’ll see you Monday,” she smiled. I nodded at her giving her a nervous smile. She turned then and walked out.

“Y/N, please think about this. I don’t want you to get…” He started.

“I’m going to go, as well, Mr. Kent… I’ll see you next week.” I stood and walked to my desk grabbing my things. I walked past him to the elevator without another word.

Monday morning I was in the office early. Lois and I met at the office so she could debrief me before we left. She was interviewing with billionaire Bruce Wayne. He had connections all over Gotham, she wanted intel on any possible underground organized crime. I’ll admit it certainly was intense for my first time in the field. But it would be great practice.

The city of Gotham was not nearly as wicked as Clark made it out to be. Mr. Wayne was amicable. He didn’t want to be there but he respected us so much as we respected him. The next few days we went back. We checked out some of the sources that Bruce had given. We got closer and closer to what she was looking for. Someone was definitely covering up organized crime in Gotham.

Late Thursday night we were headed back to the car. It was almost 9:30 way past office hours at this point. But as Lois informed me. Good stories don’t live within the time clock. We were about to drive back and head home for the evening. We were only a few blocks away. I heard Lois scream from behind me. I turned back to look and felt myself being pulled backward. Someone had ahold of my arms dragging me off the sidewalk.

“Let me go!” I demanded. Struggling in the stranger's grip. “Lois!” I called.

“Shut up, what the hell are you bitches doing here?” a male voice asked. I heard Lois cry for help. I continued to struggle.

“I’m not telling you anything. Let go of me. Someone HELP.” I screamed. Unable to break loose from the man’s hold.

“Listen bitch! I told you to…Ungh” The man grunted he fell back suddenly my arms slipping from his grip. I looked up my eyes going wide. Superman. He’d heard our screams.

I watched as he took care of Lois’ attacker breaking her free. He spoke softly to her. His face looked almost…stern. She looked at him her eyes deeply apologetic. I couldn't hear what was being said. He patted her shoulder giving her a soft smile after she assured him she was okay. That I did here.

“And you, are you okay?” He was on his feet now. He landed right in front of me. My eyes met his. They looked so familiar. I nodded.

“You… saved me. I.. I don’t know how to thank you.” I stuttered. He smiled

“It’s what I do. I’m just thankful I made it before you were hurt. Now please get home safe.” He added. I nodded still in shock. I felt Lois squeeze my shoulder and we walked back to the car. Superman hovered close watching to make sure we made it. Once we were inside he flew off.

“Do you… know him?” I asked Lois suddenly. She paused looking at me.

“We’ve met before. This job can be, dangerous at times. Can you handle that?” She asked. I thought for a moment. Could I? I couldn’t get myself out of this situation. But I didn’t back down either. Finally, I nodded.

“Yes, I can,” I answered.

“Good, now let's get home. We both could use some rest.”

In the office the next day I was typing notes for Lois. I was back and forth at her desk all day. At one point I paused looking over at Clark. He looked exhausted. And stressed. He looked slightly disheveled. He was aggressively tapping at the keys on his keyboard.

I approached him slowly.

“Hey, are you alright, you look tired I can get you some coffee if you’d like,” I offered. He shook his head not looking away from his computer.

“I’m fine Y/n, thank you.” he dismissed me.

“Oh.. okay, if you need anything let me know,” I added before walking away. Normally I skipped lunch but I had time that day. I walked over to ask Clark to come with me. Again he dismissed me. I felt bad for the way I had treated him last week. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay between us. I stayed late that night typing up notes for Lois. When I shut down my computer, I noticed Clark was the only one still in the office.

“Clark,” I spoke softly “It’s 5:30 do you need help?” I asked. He shut down his computer then.

“No, I’m just heading out now. Thank you for the offer.” He mumbled. I nodded. I turned and walked to the elevator. I rode down by myself to the first floor letting Clark cool off. If he didn’t want to talk I would give him his space. I walked out through the lobby pausing just inside the doors. Shit. It was raining again. I decided to walk this morning. It wasn’t supposed to rain. I heard the elevator ding and I groaned to myself seeing Clark exit. I gnawed at my lip anxiously, Praying the rain would suddenly let up.

“Hey,” I hear Clark's voice behind me. “Need a ride?” he asked nodding toward the door.

“Uh… yeah, I walked this morning. Didn’t bring my umbrella. It wasn’t supposed to rain today.” I answered awkwardly. Clark opened the door opening his umbrella and just like the first time he took me home, we walked close sharing the protection from the rain.

The ride home was quiet it was only a few blocks away. But when Clark pulled into the parking lot I could no longer take the silence.

“Clark. What’s wrong?” I asked. He shook his head. “Don’t, don’t brush me off, what’s bothering you?” He got out of the car, slammed his door shut, and headed inside. I got out quickly running after him the rain immediately soaking me. “Hey, I was talking to you!” I shouted.

“Y/n STOP!” He turned around quickly the volume of his voice causing me to shrink back a little. “You wanna know what's bothering me? You. You, putting yourself in harm's way. You, trying so hard to prove yourself that you're being reckless. You almost got hurt because you had to make a point. You, because I can’t stop fucking thinking about you! And I’ve lost sleep all week worrying about your safety.” He stepped closer we were standing in the middle of the parking lot. “Because I couldn't bear the thought of someone even touching you.” my heart was racing his face was inches from mine. I could feel his breath on my face. “I don’t wanna see any bruises on this pretty face.” My breath hitched.

“Clark,” I whispered. He grabbed my face crashing his lips to mine. I melted against him. The rain still fell hard around us.

“Your so damn stubborn,” He mumbled between kisses. I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him closer.

“I’m sorry,” I said, breathless as I chased his lips for another kiss. He let out a breathy laugh.

“Don’t be. You’re doing amazing. I knew you would be. Just be more careful.” I nodded. He took my hand pulling me inside. He pressed the elevator button frantically. I giggled.

“Clark that’s not gonna make it get here any faster.” He chuckled.

“Damn elevators.” Once inside he pushed the button for his floor and backed me up against the wall. His lips were back on mine, kissing me roughly. “Wanted this for so long.” He groaned. Kissing down my neck. The elevator doors opened. He took my hand again leading me to his apartment.

He quickly unlocked the door and I followed him inside. I bit my lip waiting for him to make a move. I felt so shy all of a sudden. I wanted this but I was nervous. Clark lifted my chin so my eyes met his.

“Stop me. If this isn’t what you want stop me, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” I shook my head.

“I want you Clark,” I whispered. His lips were on mine again. Sweeter this time. More slow. He felt his hand move down my neck and over my chest softly squeezing my breast. I moaned leaning into the touch. “Clark please,” I whined. He stepped back peeling off his wet shirt. I did the same. We left a trail of wet clothes all the way to the bedroom. Clark laid me down on the bed crawling between my thighs. Kissing them softly.

“So beautiful.” He groaned before swiping his tongue between my folds. I gasped. He circled my clit with his tongue and then back down dipping it inside me. His groan was feral.

“Fuck.” I moaned. He worked his tongue in and out of me while I worked my hips against his face. I tangled my fingers in his curls holding him close. His nose rubbed against my clit has he fucked me with his tongue. “m’ gonna.” I moaned as I came on his tongue. He lapped it all up before pulling away.

“So good sweetheart.” He kissed up my body, kissing my lips and letting me taste myself. Finally he settled between legs pushing inside of me slowly. He let out a low moan.

“ So big,” I whimpered. He brushed my hair out of my face kissing me softly.

“Doing so good for me sweetheart. Almost all the way in. You can take it all baby.” He moaned. With one last push he was fully seated inside me. “You feel amazing baby. Taking me so well.” He cooed letting me adjust.

“Clark please.” I whined. Begging him to move. He pulled out slowly, until just the tip was inside me and then plunged back in. I let out a loud moan.

“Feel good sweetheart?” He asked. I nodded.

“So good, Clark, Fuck, I moaned as he started to thrust into me at a steady pace. He grabbed my hand pinning it to the mattress. He picked up his pace. I felt the knot build in my stomach.

“You’re getting close aren’t you baby?” he asked. I nodded. Letting out a strangled moan.

“Please.” I begged.

“So polite.” he groaned. He pressed his thumb to my clit as he fucked me rubbing in circles. I felt my toes curl and I came hard squeezing him as he fucked me through my orgasm. “Thats it sweetheart. Fuck. Gonna make me. Ungh.” He groaned cumming inside me. We were both breathless laying there for a moment. Clark pulled out slowly. And pulled me into him.

“You okay?” He smiled kissing my cheek. I nodded.

“Mhmm” I mumbled dreamily. Clark got up and came back with a cloth to clean us both up. Then got back into bed holding me close.

“Clark?” I asked softly.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“Were you ever gonna tell me… or were you just gonna let me figure it out?” He raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Because no one else knows what happened in Gotham Superman,” I smirked turning in his arms.

“How did you…?” He asked.

“I’ve had a crush on you for a while. I’d know your eyes anywhere.” I said blushing.

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “You have a crush on me?” He asked.

“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes.

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landopoet · 5 months ago

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two prizes.

pairing lando norris x journalist!reader

warnings smut, oral (fem receiving), mentions of alcohol

synopsis that day was not the first time you and lando had met, and he helps you remember that

author’s note posting my older works, thanks to @clovermoters for the collage up top!

♯

Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.

The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Miami GrandPrix.

Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.

You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.

That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?

You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.

Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.

You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Hello?”

She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”

Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.

“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”

“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”

“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”

“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”

With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.

Well, not first ever.

You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.

Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.

It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.

You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.

The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”

Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.

If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.

You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.

“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.

“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.

Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.

After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”

You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.

This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.

You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.

“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”

“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”

The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.

“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”

Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.

“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”

“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.

It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.

Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”

“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.

“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.

After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.

“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”

Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.

“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy. “This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”

“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”

You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”

Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”

“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“

“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”

You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.

“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.

He gives you a piece of paper with something scribbled on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”

And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.

“Thanks, mate.”

Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.

His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.

When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.

You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”

“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”

“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “A victory looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”

“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”

“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.

Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.

The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.

It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.

You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”

The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.

Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.

Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.

“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”

His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.

“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.

You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.

After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.

“It was you.”

Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.

You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”

“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.

You nodded. “Every day since that night.”

Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”

A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”

“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”

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bluebirdsfeathers · 5 months ago

Text

First Day

──────･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader

Summery: You are a new intern at Westview paper hoping to make a good first impression with you new boss, Wanda.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Classism, use of y/n nothing else

A/N: inspired by this post by @wandaslittlehorns this was meant to be short but I really like this idea, so this is just part one now haha.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

──────･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

You shot up in bed, the sound of your alarm belting in your ears. Aimlessly you smacked your bedside table, though you weren’t sure if the collection of cardboard boxes next to your mattress on the ground could be considered one, you eventually found and turned it off. Grabbing your phone, you looked at the time. “Shit…” You groan. Somehow, you’d slept though both of your previous alarms, the one that woke you was intended to let you know it was time to leave.

Today was the first day of your new internship and now you were going to be late. Great first impression. Jumping to your feet you make your way to the bathroom, you don’t particularly smell so some time could be saved by forgoing a shower. You get dressed and drench yourself in axe body spray. Your wrinkled white shirt had a small stain that you hid by tucking it into your jeans. They were black so it wasn’t like you weren’t trying to look professional with your limited wardrobe and budget.

Before long you were riding the cramped subway drinking what was left of the monster energy you’d grabbed before leaving on you way to your first full-time job since graduating college. An internship at the Westview Paper wasn’t something you just got handed. You had worked hard but you were by no means the hardest worker. You did however have a talent for getting stuff done quickly, all the assignments you completed the night before could prove that. It was weird that you had gotten picked for this position, you could think of at least five more deserving people in your graduating class alone. Especially since you thought you bombed the last interview stage. She was in the room for that. Wanda Maximoff, the CEO of Westview Paper. Though she hadn’t spoken a word, just sat at the back of the room occasionally making notes while you were grilled by a very intense man in a far too expensive suit.

As you emerged from the subway, lost in a sea of other commuters, you scanned your surroundings for Westview Tower, the homebase of the Paper’s operations, now your place of work. Checking the time as you rushed through the spinning door you were revealed to see you were only three minutes late. Standing in the lobby you looked around at all the people cutting through clearly on a mission to get somewhere faster than any human reasonably could. Lots shouted down phones while others talked into earpieces, not a single person without coffee in hand. Slowly you made your way to the front desk, “Hi, I’m y/n… I’m part of the new internship.” You said sheepishly, embarrassed slightly you didn’t know where you were meant to be, you were sure it was probably mentioned in an email somewhere. “Do you know where…”

“Third floor, room 43B, you’re late by the way.” The women at the front desk didn’t even look at you, just continued to type on the computer and chew gum. “Right, sorry, Thank you.” You took a few steps toward the elevator before she spoke again, slightly too loud for the distance between you. “Forgetting something? You won’t get very far without this sweetie.” She dangles your employee badge, and you retreat to collect it, cringing slightly at the pet-name.

Finally, you were able to leave the sensory nightmare that was the lobby and enter the elevator. It was just you alone with your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a mess. Have you looked like that the whole time? Is that why the receptionist was rude? Was she even being rude or is that just how people talk to each other here? You took a deep breath and tried to tidy your appearance, feeling much more self-conscious than you did ten minutes ago. The doors to the elevator opened to the Third floor and you set out on finding room 43B.

The room was easy enough to find and by the looks of things nothing had started yet. The other interns were all just talking amongst themselves, so you grabbed an office chair and joined the conversation. “So, y/n, did you do anything nice between graduation and now?” One of the male interns, the one with the most punchable face although it was a stiff competition, asked with a grating the tone of voice. “Oh well my parents took me to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate,” the others laughed as if there was some joke everyone was in on but you, “Then we went to the cinema to watch the new Godzilla movie.” Again, laughter and you shifted awkwardly in your chair.

You weren’t left with the feeling for long as soon the door swung open and several very well-dressed people entered. Following what everyone else was doing you stood up and went over to great them. You went down the line of businessmen, each one either smelling like tobacco or overpriced cologne. You weren’t really looking them in the face as you made quick introductions, that was until you reached a hand with deep red nail polish. Lifting your head you met the gaze of Wanda Maximoff. She was dressed in a black suit with her white shirt slightly unbuttoned. Your brain buffered for a moment before you realised how long you’d been holding her hand. “Hi! I’m y/n.” You felt your cheeks heat up and quickly let go, painfully aware of how sweaty your palms now were. “Pleasure to meet you.” Wanda smiled while looking you in the eyes and you quickly became interested in looking at the floor, meaning you didn’t see how her eyes linger on you as she moved to great the next person.

What followed was a boring meeting about company goals for the next quarter, you tried to pay attention but felt your thoughts drifting to the events of earlier. It had quickly become evident you existed in a different tax bracket to everyone in the room. Your joyous memory of dinner and a movie now slightly tainted by comparison to the rewards of ski vacations and new designer goods your peers had received. While lost in thought your eyes found their way to Wanda as she once again sat at the back of the room and took notes. It was clear she’d paused her writing to look at you, catching you slightly slouched staring off into space. She shook her head disapprovingly, making you sit up straight instantly to which she gave a small laugh that only added to your embarrassment.

As the meeting drew to a close, you said your goodbyes to the higher ups, only managing a respectful nod in Wanda’s direction, before heading to lunch with the interns. “So, who do you think she’s going to pick?” Mildred, girl with the whitest teeth you’d ever seen, spoke to you in a hashed tone as you stood just outside the office room.

“Pick for what?”

“To be her personal intern? Were you not listening in there?” She sounded slightly annoyed. “We are all going to be assigned to different departments, so who do you think it’s going to be?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” You found yourself looking back into the room you’d just left; you could see Wanda talking to someone through the internal windows. She was beautiful, you’d love to be her intern, learning from the best. As she exited the room, she gave you one last look and a small wave before heading down the hall in the other direction. “Maybe it’ll be me.” You said without really thinking. Mildred scoffed and mumbled something under her breath before speeding off to catch up with the others.

The rest of the day was spent learning fire safety and being given a tour of the building. Passive aggressive comments from the other interns got less effective as you noticed you weren’t the only one receiving them and before you knew it you were back on the subway heading home. Getting off a stop early you decided to pick up a pizza as a reward for surviving your first day, the streets were a lot calmer near your apartment on the outskirts of the city, and the walk was enjoyable in the cool September weather. Your apartment was small, a studio with only the very basics, it was all you could afford on your previous job’s salary. But now you were going to be earning so much more, and you hand big plans for that first pay-check, like maybe a bed frame.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #CEO!wanda maximoff #marvel #marvel wlw #marvel x reader #wlw #lesbian #fanfic #wandavision

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bearforcecaptions · 1 month ago

Text

"I'm sorry, I don't think you're a good fit for this position. But I do have something in mind for you..."

The words hung in the air with a certain weight—calm, final, but not unkind. The sunlight streaming in through the high windows of the interview room had mellowed into a golden sheen, the late-afternoon kind that slanted just right to cast long, sleepy shadows on the table. Bradley Sutter sat across from Mr. Renshaw, arms folded tightly, unsure how to respond.

Bradley had worn his best suit for this meeting. Charcoal gray, subtle pinstripes, a conservative tie. His résumé was impeccable. MBA from Wharton, two internships, a promising stint in analytics at a mid-tier consultancy. His shoes were still shining with this morning’s polish, though he found himself shifting his feet uncomfortably in them. For some reason, they felt tighter than they had during the walk in.

“Something else?” Bradley asked, puzzled. “I was hoping to discuss the strategic operations role. I thought the interview was going well.”

Mr. Renshaw offered a small, practiced smile—the kind people in corporate offices give just before redirecting your entire trajectory. “You’re not quite what we’re looking for in strategy,” he said evenly, “but I think you’ve been miscategorized. You strike me as someone... with practical strengths.”

Bradley frowned. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Renshaw leaned back slightly in his chair, fingers steepled. “Bradley, when you’re not analyzing spreadsheets or preparing slide decks, what do you enjoy?”

Bradley hesitated. “I—I mean, I read. Hike. Occasionally work on my car. But that’s just a hobby.”

“Interesting,” Renshaw said, glancing at the papers in front of him as though reviewing something more fundamental than a résumé. “I don’t think it is just a hobby. You’re a hands-on man. Aren’t you?”

There was a dull warmth spreading across Bradley’s chest, almost like sunlight on skin. He shifted in his seat again, loosening his tie—which he realized wasn’t there anymore. His collar was open, the shirt beneath rougher than it should have been. He looked down and furrowed his brow. Was he... wearing a different shirt?

The fabric wasn’t crisp cotton anymore. It had the weight and stiffness of denim, with a darker patch where something—maybe oil?—had soaked in long ago. His fingers, when they brushed it, felt broader, rougher. They left faint smudges. Grease? The nails were darker than he remembered, edges square and flat. They looked... used.

“I—I don’t think I’m the guy you’re looking for,” he said, voice faltering slightly. It sounded different in his ears. Lower. A little hoarse.

“But I do,” Renshaw replied calmly. “Let’s talk about your work ethic. You’re always the first one in, and you don’t clock out until the last tool’s back in the drawer. That’s been your pattern for years, hasn’t it?”

Bradley opened his mouth to disagree, but nothing came out right away. Instead, he gave a slow nod. “Well... yeah, I s’pose I like seein’ a job through,” he said, the syllables dragging slightly, as if coated in dust. “Ain’t no sense quittin’ when you’re half done.”

A flicker of confusion crossed his face, but faded almost instantly. His back ached faintly, like he’d spent all day on his feet. His shoulders were tight, heavy with the sort of tension that didn’t come from spreadsheets. The sleeves of his shirt—no, coverall, he now realized—were rolled up just below the elbows, exposing thick forearms dusted with dark hair. His skin had deepened a shade, sun-worn and marked with years of small nicks and oil stains that wouldn’t scrub out no matter how hard he tried.

“I can tell you take pride in what you do,” Renshaw said, glancing at his notes again. “The guys downstairs say there’s no one better with diesel diagnostics. That true?”

Bradley—no, Josh—scratched at his chin thoughtfully, the rasp of callused fingers on stubble filling the space between them. “Well, I don’t like to brag,” he muttered in a low drawl, “but yeah, I got a feel for it. You listen close, you can tell a clogged injector from a slipped timing belt.”

“Of course,” said Renshaw. “You always had good ears.”

Josh nodded slowly. His neck was thicker now, the line of his jaw broader and more square. His cheeks carried the shadow of a beard that never quite disappeared, even when he shaved. A ring of sweat had formed beneath his collar, soaking into the worn fabric of his coveralls. His name was stitched on the chest in red thread over white: Josh Mallory.

Renshaw didn’t seem surprised to see it. “Isn’t that right, Josh?”

Josh blinked once, then broke into a grin. “Yeah,” he said, chuckling. “Sure is.”

He reached up to run a hand through his hair—it was cropped close now, a simple, no-nonsense cut. His fingers caught briefly on the grit of the day’s work still lingering along his scalp. The faint scent of motor oil, sweat, and clean steel lingered on his skin. He didn’t mind it. Never had.

“Well,” Renshaw said, standing and collecting the paperwork into a folder labeled Employee Check-In. “That’s all I needed. Thanks for making time this afternoon.”

Josh pushed back his chair and stood, his broad chest stretching the front of his uniform slightly. “No problem. Let me know if y’all need anything else.”

He shook Renshaw’s hand—strong grip, firm and practiced—and turned to leave.

“Oh, and Josh?” Renshaw said, just before he opened the door.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve been with us for over ten years now. Hell of a run.”

Josh gave a slight laugh, the corner of his mouth curling with pride. “Damn right. Ain’t no place I’d rather be.”

And just like that, he stepped out into the hallway, the muffled clanks of tools and distant engine rumbles filtering up from below. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead. A few younger guys passed by, nodding as they saw him.

“Afternoon, Mallory.”

“Boss was lookin’ for ya earlier.”

Josh nodded. “Just had a quick check-in upstairs. I’m headed back now.”

They didn’t question it. Why would they? Everyone knew Josh Mallory had been here forever.

#male transformation

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s-4pphics · 2 years ago

Text

click! 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes

two. three. four.

A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall

“W-What do you mean you’re moving?”

Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest.

“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”

Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder.

“I got that internship— “

All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek.

“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie.

Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.”

Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought.

“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?”

“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “

“Maya.”

“Hm?”

“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed.

You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person.

People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you.

Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers.

It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming…

“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.”

Oh God. “What?”

She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “

The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.

“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!”

Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick.

“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.”

“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.”

“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”

When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom.

DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization.

DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one.

DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl.

It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work.

DENY REQUEST.

…

DENY REQUEST.

…

DENY REQUEST.

You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed.

Why are people… so odd?

The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?!

Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!

All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one.

Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty.

They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away.

You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name.

ELLIE WILLIAMS.

Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement.

temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval.

… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.

At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you.

She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it.

But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note.

You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.

“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.”

Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend.

Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.”

A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out.

“Sorry, stink. Not happening.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.”

You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “

“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.”

“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, “Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.”

Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.”

“You’re so fucking extra— “

DING!

Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face.

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.”

Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”

“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup.

You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.”

“The wettest. Go.”

You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers.

You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear.

“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely.

“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected.

Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.”

“Alright.”

More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads.

“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?”

“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.”

More silence. Fuck, this is awkward.

“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.”

She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder.

“What’d I say!”

“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Oh yeah what.”

“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?”

A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles.

Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish.

Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper.

… Cute.

You’re going to fail statistics over a random.

Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here.

She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable.

Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking.

Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil.

The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention.

Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before.

“Hey. Can we switch the time?”

“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare.

She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?”

You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?”

Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.”

“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?”

A slight wince from her. “… Yup.”

She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge.

“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.”

Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you.

“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.”

Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them.

“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.”

The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face.

“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly.

“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.”

“Sike.”

You scoff in disbelief, “What?”

“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “

You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”

“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “

Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.”

Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.”

“Right.”

“I do, what the he— “

“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.”

“Hm?”

“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “

Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat.

“Wait— “

“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.”

Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee.

Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself.

Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie.

When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word.

You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant.

At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn.

“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.”

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.”

“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs.

She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.”

Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.”

“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.”

“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.”

She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?”

“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff.

“Damn… My fault.”

“I’m chilling. I just need head.”

“Go out! Find somebody!”

You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “

“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!”

You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.

“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.”

Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone.

“Hey, Siri… call Abby.”

“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “

Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment.

You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged.

It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night.

Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it.

Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes.

Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be.

You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure.

Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely.

When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing.

Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you.

The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open.

A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—

“I’m here,” She states plainly.

“… Why?” You croak.

Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious.

“To move in.”

“… Why?”

Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen.

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that?

“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?”

“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “

“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.”

Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.”

She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?

Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder.

“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.”

Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”

Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit.

…

What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...

For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case.

tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane

#ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #lesbian #black!oc #black!reader #ellie williams tlou #works 𖧧࣪#click! ☾⋆⁺₊📸✧#photographer!ellie

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despacito-uwu16 · 1 year ago

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Instant Regret- Tadashi Hamada x Reader

“But I miss you, I’m sorry” - Gracie Abrams

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

You would think that no matter how big or small the arguments would get, that you would always find a way back to each other. But it really wasn’t the case for the two of you.

You’ve gotten a job opportunity at the company of your dreams. However, their office is ten thousand miles away from home. At first, you weren’t sure what to do. You built your life around getting into the company of your dreams, however you never prepared yourself for the day that you have to leave San Fransokyo. Not only that, you would be leaving Tadashi behind. But after a few days of hesitation, you decided to take the risk and go for it.

You and Tadashi were in your apartment watching your favorite TV show while eating Chinese take out. You couldn’t concentrate on the current episode of That 70’s Show because you didn’t know how to tell Tadashi about the job. If you tell him about it, he would for sure be supportive of it. Right? It’s not like he would just tell you to turn it down…

“Something wrong Y/N”? He snaps you out of your daze.

“No! Nothing’s wrong”. You quickly said.

“You sure? You barely touched your eggplant and tofu”. He pointed at your food with his chopsticks.

You look down at the take out box. It was barely half empty.

“I’m just not hungry”. You said, playing with your food.

“Y/N, if something’s bothering you, you can always talk to me”. Said Tadashi.

You look down at the food. “I guess it’s time”. You thought.

You put your food down and turned off the TV. You turned to him and gently held his hands.

“There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you”. You confessed.

“Okay”. He turns to you. “You got my full attention”.

“Well, remember I told you about that job interview for that company I always wanted to work at”? You started.

He thought for a bit before replying. “The one with the virtual reality and AI research?”

You nodded.

“Well…” you sighed.

“I got the job”. You looked up at him giving him a small smile.

His eyes lit up and he started smiling ear to ear. “Y/N that’s amazing! See! I knew they would like you”! He hugged you tightly.

“Yeah. However, they want me to work at their London office”. You added.

Tadashi’s face fell as he let go of you. “Oh, I see”.

“I know, I promised I would stay, but I didn’t think they would relocate me. But hey, we’ve been through this before. Who said we couldn’t do it again ”. You said

“Yeah, yeah totally”. Tadashi looked at the ground.

You noticed his facial expression. It was a mix of sadness and disappointment. You knew that he wouldn’t approve of this.

“Did I say something wrong”? You ask.

“It’s nothing like that, it’s just”… he trailed off

“It’s just what”? You pressed on.

He let out a sigh before continuing “I had a plan for us to move in together after college. For us to start our life together”.

“I know this is a huge shift from what we’ve planned Tadashi. But this is my dream, you know I couldn’t just let this slip by”. You said in attempts to justify your reasons .

“What about us and everything we built”? He said, emphasizing on “us”.

“Well what about me? You knew how important this job and this company is to me”! You exclaimed

“Am I not important to you”? He asks

“You are, that’s not what I meant. I just thought you would be more supportive of me”.

“I was so supportive Y/N! I supported you when you went abroad for a semester, I supported when you had that 8 week internship over the summer! I was there for you through thick and thin, and now you’re leaving again”? He raise his voice.

You tried to calm the situation down, “Tadashi please I”-

“You never think about the consequences of your decisions and how it affects others. YOU ARE SO INCREDIBLY SELFISH”. He yelled, his words piercing into your ego.

You were both sitting on opposites sides of your black leather couch. The room fell silent. The only thing you both could hear was the clock ticking away and you attempting to muffle your sniffles. But before long, you hear Tadashi letting out a sigh, breaking the short term silence. between the two of you.

“I don’t know if I can wait for you this time Y/N”. Tadashi looks at you.

“No. Please stay. I want you to stay”. Your mind screamed.

“Then leave”.

You felt the couch cushions rise as Tadashi got up. He grabbed his hat from the hooks along with his keys.

Before he closed the apartment door, he looked at you hoping you would say something to make him stay. But you just sat there and stared at the blank TV.

“Goodbye Y/N”. He shuts the door.

And that was the last time you ever saw him.

The next thing you know, you got a call from Aunt Cass. She slowly broke the news about Tadashi’s passing. At first you thought Tadashi was doing this in retaliation for what happened a few weeks ago. But after the news broke out about the fire that killed Tadashi and Professor Callahan, the sad reality settles in. Tadashi is gone.

The funeral was short and simple. You stood in silence, hovering over your late boyfriend’s tomb stone while everyone around you cried. You didn’t think this was going to happen. It wasn’t supposed to happen.

You weren’t planning on sticking around during the reception. But before you could leave, Aunt Cass stopped you.

“Tadashi wrote something for you”. She hands you a white envelope.

You thanked her and began to make your way to the door. But as you were about to leave, you made eye contact with Hiro. You were about to say something, but he disappeared into his room.

You came back to your semi empty apartment physically and emotionally drained. All of your furniture has been shipped to your new apartment in london, and the only thing left is a small white mattress and a few cardboard boxes stacked into a pyramid. You took a bottle of wine from one of the moving boxes and drank out of it. You sat on the floor, letting your head fall back against the wall. Looking down at the envelope, you carefully opened it. You took out the paper and unfolded it.

Dear Y/N,

I wanted to call or text you, but I don’t think you would respond. I’ll be sending this to you after the SFIT showcase. You know that I’m never good with words or with writing down my feelings, so bear with me.

I want to start off by saying, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for calling you selfish. You were so excited about your dream job, and I ruined our night. You were never selfish to begin with, I was. The truth is, I got scared. I know we’ve done long distance in the past, but the thought of us eventually drifting apart scared me. I should’ve been more vulnerable when it came down with these things, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.

I never want to loose you. I couldn’t imagine my life without you. Remember during our date at the butterfly gardens, we were all alone in the auditorium and I randomly blurted out “I want us to last forever”. Well, when I said forever, I meant it. I want us to last for a lifetime.

If anything, I want you to take that job. You’ve worked so hard for it and I bet you would make a great employee at the London office. understand that I cause you some pain, and I don’t expect you to forgive me now. But when you’re ready, I’ll be here, waiting for you.

I love you so much Y/N.

Sincerely,

Tadashi

You buried your head in your arms as you let out loud sobs. You cries drowned out the sounds of the thunder and rain outside.

You couldn’t help but wonder what life would be like if you never took that job offer. What would happen if you apologized to him. Telling him how much you loved him, telling him to stay. The amount of instant regret fills up your heart, and there was no way of getting rid of the grief that came with it.

“I miss you, I’m sorry”.

A/N: I love me some angst hehe srry readers :)

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated!

Inbox is open for requests so request away!!

#tadashi hamada #tadashi hamada x reader #tadashi hamada one shot #tadashi hamada imagines #you #reader #big hero 6 x y/n #big hero six #big hero 6 x reader #big hero 6 #tadashi hamada x reader angst #i love me some angst #bh6 #baymax #hiro hamada #hiro hamada x reader #heavy angst #angst

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justmystyles · 1 year ago

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Big Winners - Part 1

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x record producer plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 3,118

summary: Harry and Y/N have been friends for fifteen years, they finally work together on an album, and it leads them to a night that will change everything for them.

a/n: earlier this month, all the grammy memories popped up, and it inspired me to write this. i have a million half finished 'moment turned fic' stories in my drafts, but I actually managed to (mostly) finish this one. this is either going to be 2 or 3 parts, i still have a bit to finish, so we'll see.

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

Y/N and Harry met fifteen years ago, One Direction had been recently formed, and she was doing an internship at the studio where they were working on their debut album. She had befriended the entire band, but she and Harry clicked instantly, and formed a tight bond.

They stayed close throughout the years. Harry’s career, both with the band and as a solo artist skyrocketed, while Y/N moved through the industry and had found herself producing some smaller projects. She rarely turned down an opportunity, taking on any work that came her way just to get the experience and the connections. Then, she received the offer of a lifetime.

Once Harry had finished Love on Tour, he celebrated by inviting some of his closest friends and family to his villa in Italy for two weeks to relax and recharge. Y/N was one of the first people he asked. One night during the trip, Harry and Y/N snuck away from the group; it was intentional on his end, because he had something he was dying to ask her.

As they sat on the moonlit beach shoulder to shoulder, their toes in the sand, Harry leaned over and bumped his shoulder against hers. “So, I’m going to be starting work on the new album soon.”

“Jesus Har, you’re not even finished with your recharge vacation and you’re already thinking about the next thing?” She chuckled.

“You know I can’t turn it off.” He said with a sheepish laugh. “But there’s actually a reason I brought it up… I’ve been thinking about the direction I want to take, and who I want to work with, and I was wondering if you’d want to produce it for me?”

Y/N lets out a loud bark of laughter, startling Harry. “Good one.”

“I’m serious.” He looks at her, and she can see that he really does mean what he says.

“Harry, I don’t have production experience on that level.” She says, still in shock. “I mean, unless this is like a lullaby album or something.”

Harry chuckles. “It’s not, but I know you can do it. I know your work, you’re so much more talented than you give yourself credit for. And sure, you haven’t got experience on my level, but you’re never going to get it if you don’t put yourself out there, who better to get the experience with than your best friend?” He says with a toothy, dimpled grin.

“Literally anyone else?” She teases.

“Hey,” he whines with a furrowed brow. “You know you love me.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” The two of them are silent for a moment, while she lets his offer sink in. “You really want me to do this? You want me to be your producer?”

“That’s why I asked.” He scoffs. “But seriously, nobody knows me better than you, you understand me, you always push me when I need it, and you don’t take my shit. Imagine how that would translate to music. I think it could be something really amazing. Plus, we’d get to hang out a bunch.”

“Ugh… you were making a good argument until you mentioned spending that much time together.” She says sarcastically as she rolls her eyes.

“Hey,” Harry says in a serious tone. “If you don’t want to do it, just tell me. But I really can’t imagine taking the next step in my career with anyone else.”

She sighs and smiles softly at him. “I would really love to work with you, Harry. If you’re sure, let’s do it.”

His smile grows once again as he pulls her into a big hug. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

A few months later, the two of them embarked on their first collaboration, Harry’s fourth studio album, and it was an even better experience than either of them thought it would be. They knew each other so well, that they were perfectly in sync with every chord and every lyric. By the time they had a completed album, they were both confident that this was the best work of their careers.

They were so proud of what they had done that they didn’t care how it sold, or what the reviews said, they knew that they had created something magical and if they were the only two people that liked it, they couldn't care less. However, that wasn’t the case. The record was a hit; glowing reviews, great numbers, and the fans positively ate it up.

Harry and Y/N’s friendship was one that was well known, his fans would go crazy everytime they were seen together, the fandom was constantly shipping them. So when they found out that she was producing the record, it amped up the anticipation tenfold. As soon as it was released, they were combing the lyrics, and criticizing every background vocal and sound to find any clues about the true standing of the relationship. Of course, there was plenty of speculation, but the truth wasn’t anywhere near as exciting as the conspiracies and analysis. They were genuinely just two best friends with creative minds that made something amazing together.

Given the reception the album received, it was no surprise that, when award season rolled around, they received a generous amount of nominations. So here they were, in LA, sharing a hotel suite and preparing to attend the Grammy Awards.

As Y/N sat down to begin the hair and makeup process, Harry stepped out to go for a run to clear his mind. He was nervous about what the evening would hold. Partly for his performance, especially given the mistake at the beginning of his last Grammy appearance in 2023. He had insisted on extra rehearsal time, and extended the production meeting to make sure that everyone knew exactly what needed to happen and when. But more than that, he wanted this night to be perfect for Y/N. He had won awards before, but this was her first time being nominated. When they had first met, Y/N had told him about her dreams and one of the things she mentioned was the Grammys. He wanted this for her more than he did for himself. And although he knew she had matured in the last fifteen years, and valued more than just accolades and awards, if he could be the reason one of her childhood dreams came true, that would mean more to him than anything.

When Harry returned from his run, he saw Y/N sitting in the common area, her hair and makeup still being worked on. She locks eyes with him through the mirror.

“Hey, did the run help?” She asks.

Harry shrugs as he approaches her. “A little, still pretty nervous though.”

“What’s making you nervous? The nominations, or the performance?”

Harry thought about the best way to answer this question, he didn’t want to tell her that he was nervous for her. He knew that even though she was hiding it well, she was nervous too, and his nerves on her behalf would make hers worse. On top of that, Y/N was alway so sweet and empathetic, she would take it personally and see herself as the reason he was nervous and end up feeling bad. He didn’t want to put a damper on this night for her.

“Mostly the performance, I guess.” He finally responds.

She extends her arm out, wiggling her fingers in an invitation for him to take her hand. When he joins his hand with hers, she squeezes gently. “You’re going to be amazing. I’ve never seen you give a bad performance. You’re going to kill it, and I’m going to be right there in the crowd losing my shit for you, just like I always do.”

Harry laughs at her pep talk. “You know this is an industry thing, not a concert, right? People aren’t exactly going to be losing their shit in the audience.”

“Good, then it will be easier for you to notice me from the stage.” She looks over at him with a sweet smirk.

“Like I could ever miss you.” He scoffs, squeezing her hand.

“You’re showering before you get dressed, right?” She asks with an arched brow, lightning the mood.

“Not before I give you a big, sweaty hug…” He says, outstretching his arms and moving closer.

“Harry Edward,” she says in a warning tone. “I’m already forty-five minutes into getting ready, and still have at least thirty to go. I cannot start over.

“God, you’re such a girl…” He groans and kisses her on the cheek before going into the bathroom to shower.

While Harry showered, Y/N’s mind was racing. She’d known Harry long enough to know that there was more going on than just being nervous about the performance, but she wasn’t going to push him. She would just do everything she could to support and comfort him.

After his shower, Harry stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a robe just as Y/N’s hair and makeup was being finished. She stood from her chair, thanked her glam team and stepped up to Harry.

“We should just go like this, it would cause quite a stir.” She joked as they stood face to face in their matching bathrobes.

He smiles softly, still feeling the nerves flow through him.

“Hey, you’ve got this… we’ve got this.” She assures him. “Even if we don’t win, the album was amazing. We made something beautiful. If the academy sees that, great. If not, whatever, we don’t need them anyway.”

Harry smiles and pulls her into a hug. “Yeah, I know, I know. No matter what, I am so proud of what we did. It’s better than I even imagined it would be, and I owe all of that to you.”

She giggles as she pulls out of the hug. “I didn’t do anything. I just pushed buttons and bossed you around.”

Harry laughs loudly. “Two things you’re good at. Being bossy and pushing my buttons.” She gasps in mock outrage and slaps his chest playfully. “Seriously though, you brought my vision to life, and you did all the behind the scenes work to make sure it was the best album possible. You’re the biggest reason we’re here tonight.”

Y/N smiles shyly and blushes. “Oh come on…”

Harry smirks mischievously, he always found it hilarious when he’d make her blush. He decided to double down. “Well, whatever the outcome, at least I’ll have the cutest date in the room.” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

“God, you’re the worst.” She chuckles as her blush deepens. “I have to go put my dress on. You changing?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I’ll do that now. Meet you back here in ten?”

“It’s a complicated dress, might need fifteen…”

“God,” he groans playfully. “Such a diva!”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at him and turns to go into her room to get dressed.

Twenty minutes later, Harry is pacing around in his suit, it’s a simple black suit with a gold silk shirt, unbuttoned enough to display the sparrows on his chest, and the butterfly across his abdomen. He steps up to her door and knocks gently as a reminder that they need to get going.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” She calls through the door.

A few moments later, she emerges in a long gown, made of the same golden silk as Harry’s shirt. Harry’s eyes go wide when he sees her. She looks stunning, the gown hugs her curves in all the right places, and compliments her skin tone perfectly.

Harry’s silence makes Y/N feel a little self conscious. She rarely dresses up, and when she does, she doesn’t usually pick things that put her body on display like this.

“Is it… do I look okay?” She asks tentatively.

“It’s stunning, Y/N.” Harry looks at her in awe. “You look so incredibly beautiful, like an angel…”

“Alright Har, come on…” she says bashfully as she drops her gaze.

“No, seriously. You clean up nice.” He chuckles, punching her on the arm playfully.

“Yeah, well you don’t look so bad yourself.” She looks him over, a small smirk appearing on her face. “Is this why you wanted me to work with your team to pick my outfit? So we would be matching?”

Harry chuckles and shrugs sheepishly. “Maybe…”

“You’re such a little pain in the ass.” She chuckles.

“Whatever, it was worth it.” He says, grabbing her wrist and positioning them in front of the full length mirror. “We look damn good”

“That we do.” She replies with a smile. She notices his expression grow more serious and furrows her brow. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just… fifteen years…” He says wistfully. “We’ve had a hell of a run, you and I.”

“Well it’s not over yet!”

“No, I know. Will you just shut up and let me have a moment?” He says as he nudges her. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I can’t really express how much it means to be standing here with you right now. No matter what happens tonight, we’ve definitely already won.”

“Yeah, we have.” She sighs, wrapping her arm around his waist and pulling him into a side hug. “Now cut it out with all this mushy stuff, my makeup took way too long for me to start crying right now.”

Harry laughs and pulls her into a tight hug. “Alright, alright, we’ll save the mushy crying for later.” He gives her one last squeeze before pulling out of the embrace. “Ready to go?”

She nods and he leads her out the door and down the hallway to the elevator. As it makes its descent to the lobby, Y/N gets uncharacteristically quiet.

“You good?” Harry asks softly. “You seem quiet.”

She looks up at him, almost as if the sound of his voice broke her out of a trance. “Hmm? Yeah, sorry. I think the gravity of everything is finally hitting me. Like, it was all conceptual before, just words. But it’s real, we’re on our way to the Grammy awards… we’re nominated.”

Harry takes her hand, squeezing it gently. “I know. But you can’t worry about it, no more stressing out, okay? Tonight is our night, we just need to go out there and enjoy it.”

“Can I say one more mushy thing before we stop trying to make each other cry?”

Harry chuckles and nods, looking forward to hearing what Y/N has to say.

“I… when I decided I wanted to be a producer, my big thing was that I always told people I wanted to win Grammy awards. And I know we shouldn’t be defined by awards, but in an industry like this, you have to have some way to quantify or legitimize what you do to people who aren’t a part of it, and that was my way of doing it. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and this is the first time I’ve been nominated. I can’t tell you how glad I am that my first nomination is with you. It means the world to me that I can have this moment, share this milestone with my best friend. So thank you for letting me be a part of this album. You have no idea what it means to me.”

Harry is taken aback by Y/N’s words. While they were close, and shared everything, she would rarely be so open and vulnerable with her words. No matter what happened at the award show, that moment, right there in the elevator, would be the highlight of his night. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close, burying his face in her neck.

“You have no idea what this means to me.” He mumbles against her neck.

“Okay, so no nerves then?” She asks, pulling out of his embrace. “Whatever happens tonight, we will always have this moment together, and that’s what matters.”

“Agreed.” Harry says, holding his hand out to shake hers. She giggles at the gesture and shakes his hand firmly.

After a short ride in the limo, Harry slips out of the car and extends his hand, helping Y/N out. They walk through security and up to the start of the red carpet. Harry turns to face Y/N, and she adjusts his jacket, making sure he looks picture perfect.

“Okay, go out there and smile big. I’ll see you on the other side.” She says like a proud mom, sending her son off to picture day.

“How’s my hair?” He asks cheekily.

She giggles and runs her hand through his hair. “Perfect.”

He winks and gives her a sly smirk before stepping out onto the carpet and posing for the cameras.

Y/N watches him take a few pictures, and once he moves on to the second pose position on the carpet, she turns to walk behind the step and repeat. Her arm is quickly grabbed by one of the producers. “You’re up.” He tells her.

“Oh no no no, I’m not walking the carpet.” Y/N insists.

“Are you nominated?” She nods, a slight panic on her expression. Y/N was a behind the scenes person, she didn’t step in front of the camera. “Then you walk the carpet.” He nudges her forward, and she finds herself standing on the first mark, posing awkwardly for the camera.

A few steps away, Harry’s gaze is traveling from camera to camera, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Y/N posing, he also sees the panic on her face. He quickly backtracks, coming up beside her and placing his hand on the small of her back.

“You okay?” He whispers softly.

“I didn’t know they were going to make me do the carpet…” She whispers nervously.

Harry keeps his hand on the small of her back, his fingers moving along the skin gently to soothe her. “I know, I know. But you’ve got this, I’m right here with you, we’re going to do this together, this is our night.”

She nods, feeling more comfortable with Harry by her side. The two pose together as they move down the carpet. Harry was completely in tune with Y/N’s emotions, and any time he’d feel her start to stiffen up or get nervous, he would whisper a joke or silly comment in her ear to loosen her up.

The photographers went crazy observing the chemistry between the two of them. Harry was aware what would be printed about them, and the status of their relationship, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him in that moment was that nothing ruined this night for Y/N.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry edward styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles x fem! reader

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thewritingrowlet · 1 year ago

Text

The Past Never Passes, ft. fromis_9 Jang Gyuri

tags: creampie, rekindled love

word count: 11k+

author's note: this fic was inspired by an ask from an anon. Another thing to mention is that I put another female character here for the plot, and the idea is to let the readers use their imaginations and put any likenesses they want onto this character.

p.s. I know Gyuri is no longer part of fromis_9 but for masterlist-keeping purposes, I wrote it anyway.

High school: the most memorable part of education for most people, including yourself. Sure, it’s not all smiles and giggles; you’ve had your fair share of struggles and hardships in the last 3 years. That being said, you still have a lot of things to be thankful for, such as your sweetheart, Gyuri, who you have known since you both were kids living next to each other. You’ve been very lucky to have her by your side through everything.

You see Gyuri talking to a bunch of mutual friends, celebrating each other’s graduation. You see her eyes light up and her lips curling in a smile when she sees you walking up to her. Gyuri excuses herself and approaches you for a hug. “Congratulations on being the best graduate, babe”, she says, “I’m so proud of you”. You mindlessly put your palms on her waist, “thank you, baby. Congratulations to you as well”. The headmaster, at one point in the ceremony, announced the top 3 graduates who have had the best grades, and you “beat” Gyuri for the first place just by some odd decimals.

“We have things to talk about, babe, but let’s enjoy the moment for now”, Gyuri says as she places a hand on your chest. You’re not sure what she wants to talk about, but considering that she said that without a smile, you’re nervous. “Sure, baby; we’ll go to the river tonight, okay?”, you say. Gyuri smiles slightly at you and leaves, so you take it as a sign of her wanting to keep the conversation for later.

Gyuri told you to go home without her because she wanted to talk to her friends more. She might not be the biggest social butterfly out there, but she keeps those she deems important within arm’s length. You agreed to her suggestion, so here you are, walking alone through the neighborhood to get home. For some odd reason, you start… missing her. You try asking yourself where this feeling is coming from, but you end up with none instead. Amid cluelessness, you eventually admit that only Gyuri can offer such closure—Gyuri would tell you that she’s here for you and will continue to.

No one is at home when you enter since your parents are on a business trip together. You head straight to your room and change into something comfortable. You hang your clothes tidily and look at it one last time. You smile and frown as you recall every single memory of high school: the first time you got perfect score on a test, the moment you nervously confessed your love to Gyuri, and the day where you sat alone on the riverbank crying because a teacher had been very mean to you—all those memories were gathered when wearing this uniform, the silent witness to every high and low of high school life.

You were lying in bed half asleep when your phone vibrated. You pick up the call from your dad. “Hi, dad”, you greet him, ��I got home like 10 minutes ago and I’m now in bed”. “Hi, dear”, he greets you in return, “you’re on speaker and your mom is here with me”. Your dad apologizes for not coming to your graduation ceremony and asks how it went. “It was alright; talked to a bunch of teachers and friends and they congratulated me for being the best graduate”, you tell him, “I went home without Gyuri, though”. “Oh, that’s unfortunate; I wanted to say hi”, your dad says. You tell him that you’ll be seeing her later at the river, “she said she wanted to talk about something—pray for me, please; I have a bad feeling about this”. “You’ll be just fine; I’m sure Gyuri means well”, he says.

Your dad finally hung up the phone after talking about different subjects, such as offering you an internship at your parents’ company and potentially work for them after college. You asked if it’d be okay, considering the family ties, and he told you that it’d be indeed okay, and that the bigger picture is for you to climb up the hierarchy and eventually take over. “This is what they mean when they say privilege, isn’t it?”, you asked your dad earlier, earning collective laughter from him and your mom.

You hear the doorbell ring, so you rush to the door to answer it. “Hey, babe”, Gyuri says when you open the door, “were you asleep?”. You invite her in and come in for a quick kiss. “I just had a call with my parents. They said hi, by the way”, you tell her. “Do your parents like me?”, Gyuri asks, seemingly out of nowhere. You blink a few times in confusion, “I mean, our families have been close since we were kids, so I’d like to think that they do like you”. Gyuri nods gently, “good to know”.

You wait until the sun isn’t right above your head before going out with Gyuri. You offer her to get some sandwiches and eat them at the river’s park. Gyuri agrees to your idea, so you walk with her to a nearby shop for some spicy tuna mayo and egg salad sandwiches. She is oddly quiet during the walk, presumably floating about in the middle of her ocean of thoughts, but you don’t prod her as Gyuri probably has her reasons.

You and Gyuri take a seat under a tree on the riverbank. “This is for you”, you grab an egg salad sandwich from the bag and hand it to her. Gyuri holds her sandwich with both hands, but instead of opening the wrap, she starts sobbing. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”, you ask, concerned about her sudden waterfall of tears. “I’m breaking up with you”, she says, her words short but painful, “I’m so sorry”. You can feel your heart shatter into a million pieces, the explosion sending shockwaves throughout your body. “Can-can I ask why?”, you struggle to speak, “did-did I do something wrong? I swear I never cheated on you”. Gyuri shakes her head, “n-no, you didn’t do anything wrong; you’ve been a very good boyfriend”. As you’re about to open your mouth, Gyuri cuts you off, “I-I’m going to start training to be an idol”. “There it is”, your brain says, “idols can’t date, so she has to break up with you”.

The realization crushes you, and you can’t help but cry along. “I-I’m going to move to Seoul next week, and-and I want to start getting ready for that”, Gyuri says. You shut your eyes tightly, “and that-that includes ending us, doesn’t it? Y-you want to start burning bridges with people you know”. Gyuri turns to you and holds your hands, “please, babe, don’t say it like that. I-I just want something for myself—we-we weren’t supposed to end like this, I swear”. Gyuri jumps to hug you, endlessly apologizing as her hands are wrapped around your body. “I wish you good luck, Gyuri-yah”, you say as you break the hug. You want to say that you’ll be waiting for her to return, but that will probably never happen—you guess that she’ll forget you after spending a week in Seoul. Gyuri covers her face as tears keep flowing out of her eyes, “w-why does it have to end like this? I-I swear we were happy”. You remove her hands from her face and hold them with yours. “I guess that sometimes good things fall apart, sweetheart”, you say to her, your voice trembling from held back emotions, “promise me that you’ll do your best to chase your dream, okay?”.

It is when you lie flat in bed that tears start flowing out of your eyes again. Your brain isn’t being helpful, as it makes you recall every moment of your relationship. You cry and cry and cry until the dam in your eyes runs dry. “Good luck, my love; I’m rooting for you”, you say weakly as you wipe the tears on your cheeks. You roll onto your stomach and plant your face into a pillow, trying your hardest to calm yourself down and come to acceptance of the fact that Gyuri is no longer by your side.

After coming to terms with a broken heart, you decide to tell your parents about this. Your dad doesn’t pick up the call, but your mom does. “Hi, sweetie”, she greets you, “are you okay?”. She probably can tell by your weak and trembling voice that you are indeed not okay. “G-Gyuri broke up with me”, you summarize, “she-she wants to become an idol and we know that idols can’t date”. You hear your mom sigh, “so, what did you say to her?”. You hold back a sniffle before answering, “I-I told her that I wish her good luck”. You can picture your mom nod in approval, “not to be insensitive, dear, but everything will be fine; if Gyuri is truly meant for you, she’ll come back to you, no matter the distance between the two of you”. You accept your mom’s comfort and assurance and thank her for it, “tell papa about this as well, mama; I think he’d want to know too”.

You sit at a round table with 4 of your friends, and since you just met them this Monday, you’re still trying to remember their names: the guy with the glasses in front of you is Heo Gutaek, and to his right, between you and him, are the twin sisters Song Yuha and Song Taeha—obviously you remember Choi Jeonghan; he was the first friend you made in university.

Jeonghan, a classmate in Introduction to Accounting class, starts the conversation. “Hey, guys, there’s a new girl group survival show on BSK; you should check it out”, he says. He informs you further that the show premieres today and airs every Thursday at 6pm—it’s called Idol Academy or something. “Yeah, sure”, you say, “are you guys into music, by the way?”. “Yeah, I like boy groups more, though”, Taeha says—wait, that’s Taeha, right? Not sure, actually.

“Girls, I’m so sorry, but which one of you is who?”, you say to the twins, hoping that they won’t be offended by your question. It’s understandable that you can’t tell which one is who, since they go everywhere and do everything together—look, they’re even giggling at the same time! You’re starting to think that their brains are wirelessly connected or something. One of the sisters ties her hair in a bun and shows you a very small birthmark on the neck. “I’m Yuha”, she says as she points at it, “Taeha doesn’t have this”. You sigh, “well, I’m not going to move your hair and look for your birthmark every time I’m talking to you, am I?”. “I mean, I don’t mind being touched by you”, Yuha says softly with a wink. Your eyes widen as your cheeks turn red; there’s no way Yuha is teasing you like that after only having known you for a few days.

The cafeteria worker comes to your aid and helps you get out of the predicament. He puts down two trays full of food and drinks on your table. You let everyone pick up their stuff from the trays before taking your turn. You look to your left and see that the Song sisters have the exact same things: tonkatsu and sparkling water. “Do you always eat the same thing?”, you ask Yuha, who is the closest to you. Since Yuha is busy munching a piece of tonkatsu, Taeha answers on her behalf. “Yuha knows her way around food, so I usually just get whatever she gets”, she says.

You spent about half an hour eating and talking to your friends, and at one point, you bragged about getting the best graduate award from your high school. Yuha kept looking at you with a smile, and you were starting to think that you’ll be very close to her as time goes by. Can’t lie, though, the twins are very attractive, and their eye smile reminds you of… Gyuri. You let out a sigh, “can’t believe I’m comparing these girls to her”.

You offer your friends a ride to their apartments, and you find out that Jeonghan and Gutaek’s buildings are next to each other. “I assume you two live together”, you say to the Song twins. “Same building, different floors”, Taeha says, “I love Yuha, but I’d like to have some privacy”. Jeonghan sits in the front passenger seat while the others sit in the middle row. “You’ll have to tell me where to go; I’m new to this city”, you say to Jeonghan, and he nods in agreement.

Jeonghan types in his address on the navigation app and puts it on max volume. “In one hundred meters, turn left”, the app says in its catchy voice. In the middle seat, Taeha plays a song and sings along with Yuha, while Gutaek opts to bop his head along. “Wow, you guys are great at this”, you praise them, unfamiliar with what they excel at. Your praise makes the twin feel excited, and you can tell that they’re singing more seriously after hearing it.

One song finishes after another, and Taeha, before the next song starts, tells the crew that this is her and Yuha’s favorite song. “Let’s hear you two sing, Taeha-yah”, you encourage her. You see in your rear-view mirror that they’re waiting until the opening melody to end so that they can start singing.

한번 쯤 그려왔던 그 날이 올까 (Will the day I once wished for come?)

소중히 바래왔던 내 맘 넌 알까 (Will you know of my heart that was preciously hoping for it?)

오 빛나는 땀방울도 (Oh, even the glistening sweat drops)

언젠가 만날 널 위해 흘려왔어 (Were dropped to be able to meet you one day)

You bop your head along, enjoying the twins’ singing. It’s a shame that you don’t know the lyrics, because otherwise you’d be able to sing along—your voice might not be as good as theirs, but you enjoy singing along, nonetheless. You glance at Jeonghan, who has a smile on his face, “you’re enjoying this too, aren’t you?”. Jeonghan chuckles, “I mean, listen to them, man: they sound so good—I wonder if they’ll join the campus band”. “That is the plan”, Yuha says, “imagine if the band had twin vocalists; that’d be awesome”.

You were so busy enjoying the moment that you almost missed a turn. Thankfully, Jeonghan was paying attention to the road and reminded you. You scratch the back of your head in embarrassment, “sorry about that, man”. You stop on the side of the road in front of a building that Jeonghan pointed at. You roll down your window as Jeonghan and Gutaek walk towards the car after getting off. You give each of them a fist bump, “see you guys tomorrow”.

Yuha moves to the front passenger seat that Jeonghan has left vacant. She winks at you when you look at her, and you can’t help but blush again—thankfully, Taeha was busy looking at her phone and didn’t see your red cheeks, so you’re saved from double embarrassment. You shake your head rapidly and start driving again—towards the twins’ building this time.

“When is your birthday, by the way?”, Yuha asks, “I’m guessing you were born in the fourth quarter of the year”. You nod, “yeah, December 1st. What about you guys?”. “December 16th”, says Yuha, “I was born a few minutes before Taeha, but we’ve agreed to pay no mind to that—we’re twins, what’s the point of knowing who’s older than who”.

You stop on the side of the road in front of their building. Taeha jumps out of the car and enters the building right away after saying her goodbye while Yuha stays in the car. “Can I ask you to come up with me?”, she asks, and her voice sounds oddly sexy to you right now. “Sure, baby”, you blindside her with a pet name, and now it’s Yuha’s turn to blush. “P-park your car i-inside; I-I believe we-we’ll take a while”, Yuha struggles to speak thanks to you.

You get out of the car after parking it in a vacant spot, followed by the still blushing Yuha. You show her an open palm, and Yuha shyly holds your hand. She looks down to hide her crazy blush, “f-follow me, plea-please”. As you’re walking with her (presumably towards her unit), you whisper in her ear, “are you actually falling for me, Yuha-yah, or am I ahead of myself?”. Yuha dares not look at or answer you, opting to keep walking forward until you arrive at her door. “U-um-um”, Yuha stutters, “I-I think I’m falling for you”. “That’s cute, Yuha-yah”, you lean forward towards her, “I like you too”.

Yuha turns her back away from you and quickly unlocks her door. You follow her inside after taking off your shoes, “nice place, Yuha-yah”. Yuha musters up her courage and stands in front of you. “I-I like you, but-but I’m not ready to-to have sex”, she says. You show her a gentle smile, “that’s totally fine, Yuha-yah; we don’t have to have sex if you don’t feel like it—I promise I won’t manipulate you into having sex with me”.

Yuha invites you to sit on the sofa, and you unquestionably accept her invitation. You look at the clock above the TV and see that it’s almost 5 pm. “The show premieres tonight, right?”, you say, earning a nod from Yuha, “I’ll order some pizza for us”. Yuha twiddles her fingers in timidness, “c-can I call you oppa? I-I’ve always wanted to date an older guy”. You laugh, “I’m only two weeks older than you, Yuha-yah—but sure, if you want to, you can”. Yuha grins in satisfaction, “thank you, oppa”.

You tape your eyes onto the TV while Yuha picks up the pizza at her front door. For some reason, you’re feeling nervous about this. Yuha puts the pizza on the table and sits next to you, “you seem nervous”. “I am nervous”, you admit, “something is making me nervous, and I don’t know what or why”. You pick up a slice as the show starts and take a bite. You see a very well-known celebrity entering a classroom set and he introduces himself as “the homeroom teacher”. “That’s new”, Yuha comments as she chews, “I want to see the contestants so I can pick a favorite”. True enough, contestants start getting introduced to the viewers after the host has had his moment. Yuha glares at you when you call a contestant named Lee Saerom cute—she’s of legal age like you, just so we’re clear. “Seriously? I’m literally next to you and you said that?”, Yuha rolls her eyes in annoyance. You slap your mouth a few times and apologize for speaking so carelessly.

You pick up another slice as more and more contestants get revealed. Your heart stops for a moment when you see a particular contestant. “Wait, that’s—“, the shock makes you unable to finish your thoughts. “Hello, my name is Jang Gyuri”, the contestant says. You can’t believe your eyes and ears; there’s no way you’re seeing Gyuri on TV. You rub your eyes in disbelief, thinking that your brain is playing tricks on you. Yuha notices your odd behavior and asks you about it, “you know that girl, oppa?”. You blink rapidly to focus on Yuha’s question, “y-yes. I-I went to school with her”. You don’t want to reveal to Yuha that you used to date Gyuri in high school just yet since it’d most likely ruin the vibes.

“Oppa”, Yuha says, snapping you out of your trance, “the show is done”. You look around the room, “o-oh, yeah, sure”. Yuha holds your chin and turns your face towards her. “What’s gotten into you, oppa?”, she asks, “you’ve been silent since that girl came out”. If you’re going to go further with Yuha, you’ll need to start being honest with her, and you think that this is a good opportunity for that. “Jang Gyuri was my girlfriend in high school. She broke up with me after the graduation ceremony to pursue a career as an idol”, you briefly explain to Yuha. She stays silent for a moment, thus making you think that you’ve ruined her mood. To your surprise, however, Yuha doesn’t act like her mood has been disrupted. “I did not expect you to say that, but I’m glad you’re honest with me, oppa”, she says with a smile, “I’ll be rooting for Jang Gyuri on your behalf”.

You’re pleasantly surprised by Yuha’s attitude on this, so you “reward” her with a hug. “You’re such a positive person, Yuha-yah”, you say to her, “I love you so much”. Yuha’s eyes widen, and her cheeks are painted red again. “O-oh, that’s so sudden”, she stutters, “I-I love you too, o-oppa”. You break the hug so you can storm her face with pecks, “you’re so cute, Yuha-yah”. Yuha plants her hands in your chest and pushes you away from her. “Th-that’s enough, oppa. My heart will burst if you keep going”, she says. You smile at her and peck her one last time, “I love you, sweetheart”. You see Yuha mouth “I love you too” before looking away to hide her shyness, and you feel a surge of warmth in your heart that you have not felt in the last few months of Gyuri’s absence—it’s very hard to stay composed and not burst out crying in front of Yuha right now, but you have to keep it in regardless.

Yuha mutes her TV so that she can initiate a conversation—or at least that’s what you thought she was about to do. Yuha positions herself on the sofa in a way that allows her to rest her head on your thighs. “Gyuri used to do this a lot with me”, you say in your head as you start petting Yuha’s head gently. Yuha grabs your free hand and places it on her cheek, “pet me here too, oppa”. You chuckle in amusement and do as Yuha asks, petting her on the top of the head and the soft cheek. “Your cheek is so… chewy”, you pinch her cheeks slightly, “very similar to Gyuri’s”. Yuha giggles, “really? Wanna have a bite, oppa?”. You bend forward and nibble her cheeks with your lips, “you’re so cute, Yuha-yah”. Yuha covers her face as soon as you leave her cheek, “y-you—um-um—you enjoy physical contact a lot, don’t you?”. “Yeah, thanks to Gyuri”, you say to yourself. You’re aware that you can’t say that to Yuha, so you come up with a different answer, “that is true; I especially like petting a girl’s head like this”.

You keep on petting Yuha’s head, and the comfort has sent her to dreamland. It is when you observe her facial features that you start seeing Gyuri. Yuha doesn’t look like Gyuri at all, so you suspect that your brain is playing tricks on you—in terms of looks, you must admit, Yuha can definitely make it as an idol, but you don’t want to give her ideas; losing another girl to the entertainment industry would be disastrous for you. You close your eyes so that you can put your mind at ease, as you’re sitting on a very soft sofa and a cute girl is using your thighs as a pillow.

The sound of your alarm stirs you awake at 5 am on a new day. In your half-awake state, you head to the bathroom to freshen up. It is when you’re fully awake when excitement and relief creep up on you—you successfully defended your thesis yesterday, thus marking the end of your study at university—and you find yourself giggling while looking at the mirror. “Congratulations on finishing university in 3,5 years, man”, you reach an arm out and shake your own hand through the mirror. You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, “oh, Yuha is calling me”.

“Baaaabe, congratulations!”, Yuha says over the phone, “I’m sooooo proud of you”. You laugh, “thank you so much, sweetie. I couldn’t have done this without you”. You mean it with every fiber of your body; Yuha has always been there with you throughout university, being your equal in terms of grades, and occasionally beating you by odd decimals—the only reason you’re not graduating with her is because Yuha went on a student exchange program, thus “delaying” her thesis.

“Babe, I miss you”, she says in an aegyo-esque voice, and you see that she wants to change to video call. You accept the video call request and put on a wide grin. “Aaaaah, I can’t see you”, she complains. You turn on the lights with a laugh, “sorry, baby—what about now?”. Yuha smiles in satisfaction, “that’s much better. I can see my handsome and manly boyfie now”. You explode in laughter; Yuha is referring to that one moment on week one of the fifth semester where a professor called you “handsome and manly”. “Oh my God, Yuha-yah, until when are you going to tease me with that?”, you ask her, amused by her little stunt.

“I mean, I do think that you’re handsome and manly”, Yuha bites her bottom lip, “I miss your touch, babe”. “I mean, you refused my offer last time—there’s nothing wrong with that, obviously; you know what kind of guy I am”, you defend yourself. Yuha takes her phone and aims the camera at her crotch, “look, babe; I’m so wet for you”. She is indeed wet, as proven by the wet spot in the middle of her panties. “You want me, babe?”, you tease her, “you want to have your guts rearranged?”. Yuha starts touching herself and moaning on camera, “please come here and fuck me—I’m begging you”. “Well, since you asked nicely”, you show her your car key, “I’m coming”.

“Welcome—oh!”, Yuha yelps when you press her against the wall and hold her hands above her head. “Hi, baby”, you put a leg between hers, “horny?”. Yuha nods and starts humping your thigh. You look at her with a naughty smile on your face, “oh, Song Yuha, what would you do without me?”. “I-I don’t know”, Yuha breathes heavily, “I-I need you, babe, please”. You laugh, “the sun is barely up and you’re already horny? Fine, let’s play your game”.

You tell Yuha to take off her clothes first, “lie in bed after that, ‘kay?”. She obliges to your wish—Yuha is very obedient when she’s horny because she wants to maximize her chance to get fucked. “Y-your turn, b-babe”, she says, eyeing your body from top to bottom. You pull your T-shirt over your head, and Yuha responds by biting her lip. It is when your cock is free from its restraints that Yuha lets out a moan. “I haven’t touched you yet, why are you moaning?”, you’re amused, “are you that horny?”. Yuha defends herself by citing that her pussy’s muscle memory caused her to moan.

You join her in bed at put her in a mating press, “ask nicely and I’ll give it to you”. “Please, daddy, I’m begging you”, she airs her frustration for sex, “tear me in two”. You have no difficulty finding her pussy since you’ve had a lot of sex with Yuha in the past few years. You plunge deep into Yuha right away, her natural lube ensures smooth first penetration. You look down and see that Yuha’s firm stomach is bulging, “am I too big for you, babe?”. Yuha nods weakly, “y-you’re tearing me apart, daddy—harder, please”.

You oblige. You plant your mouth on Yuha’s neck while your hips pick up the pace. Yuha moans and screams as she feels the overwhelming stimulations on her body. She chants whatever nickname she can come up with, feeling desperate for an orgasm. “Oppa, daddy, babe”, Yuha’s brain struggles to choose a name, “please, I’m so close—fuck, yes!”.

A particular deep thrust sends Yuha across the line with a scream. “Pl-please, let me breathe”, she begs, so you retreat from her warmth to let her do so. “M-my legs are like jelly”, she inflates your ego, her legs trembling in front of your eyes. “Can you take some more or are you tapping out?”, you ask, longing for an orgasm. Yuha tells you that she wants more but needs to catch her breath for a minute. “A minute? Bet”, you start a countdown in your head.

As soon as the countdown reaches zero, you flip Yuha onto her stomach and pull her onto all fours. Yuha whimpers, “you’re gonna have to carry me around after this”. You slap her succulent ass cheeks, aiming to make them red, earning screams from Yuha after each one. “You’re mine”, you say to her, “the marks on your skin will remind you if you ever forget”. Yuha shakes her head weakly, “I-I will never forget, daddy”.

You plant your feet on the bed and fuck her like a dog. Her legs turned into jelly earlier, and it is now time for her arms to follow suit. Yuha doesn’t have the strength to support her torso and decides to drop onto the bed. You hold her hair in one hand and pull it, “who said you can lie down?”. Even though you have her hair in your hand, you make sure to not make it too painful for Yuha—you love her after all, hurting her is counterproductive.

Yuha begs you to let her hair go, so you do as she asks, causing her to drop onto the bed with a sigh of relief. “I’m close, babe”, you announce, “I hope you don’t mind if I cum inside”. Between her moans and screams, Yuha manages to answer, “yes, yes, cum in me, daddy”. You lodge your cock deep in her pussy and blow your load, “fuck!”. You pull out right away, and the lightheadedness almost makes you tumble backwards. The excess cum drips out of Yuha, and you take some in your hand, “nice and thick, just the way you like it, babe”. Yuha isn’t answering, so you move to check up on her, “there’s no way you fall asleep right away”. You roll Yuha onto her back and let her rest while you leave to get her some water.

“Welcome, new face”, an HR staff greets you in front of your dad’s company building. He hands you an ID card with your face and name on it, “I know who you are, but I was told that you want to be treated just like any other person”. You bow slightly, “that is correct, Mr. Park. I ask for your kindness and guidance”. He grabs your shoulders and tells you that you didn’t need to bow to him like that. “Your first assignment is to follow a senior, Miss Lee Haein, as she works with a girl group”, he explains. “A girl group? What are they doing here?”, you ask. The staff asks you to walk with him, “a subsidiary of this company is doing an endorsement campaign, and what partner is better than a girl group?”.

“Hi, my name is Lee Haein. I’m your, uh, handler—call me noona, by the way”. You shake her hand, “nice to meet you, noona”. Haein asks you to follow her to a meeting room where you’ll be, well, meeting this girl group before they’re handed over to the subsidiary for the actual endorsement. “Here, sit next to me”, Haein pulls back two chairs for you and her. “So, to brief you quickly, they are a 4th-year girl group with, uh, moderate popularity both at home and abroad. We’ll be working with them to promote a new drink”, Haein explains. You write down the brief in your little memo, “this will be the first time I’m meeting a girl group in person”. Haein chuckles, “just don’t fall for them, okay? I don’t think idols can date”. You show her your lock screen of Yuha’s selfie—she wasn’t wearing anything when she took it, but only her face and neck is shown on the picture, “I’m taken, noona; I’ll be just fine”.

You spend the time by talking to Haein about work and life, and she points out that almost everyone at the company knows that you’re the boss’ son. You scratch the back of your head, “I hope no one minds that I work at my parents’ company”. Haein giggles, “the fact that you don’t want to be treated differently helps us accept you in our midst”. You hear knocks on the door, and by reflex you tell them to come in. “Hi, they’re here”, a staff member says as he opens the butterfly door.

The girl group members enter one by one, and you notice that they’re wearing the same clothes and name tagsg. You write down their names on your memo one by one based on the order of entrance. “We will introduce ourselves—one, two”, a familiar voice says, “hello, we are Cloud Nine! Pleased to meet you!”. You’re forced to stop writing—you know who that voice belongs to. “There’s no fucking way”, words loudly slip out of your lips, and people look at you confusedly. Haein creases her forehead in bafflement, “what’s wrong with you?”. You’re snapped out of your little trance, “o-oh, nothing—I’m sorry”. You lock eyes with the girl on the far right; “Jang Gyuri”, you think to yourself, “fancy meeting you here”.

Haein invites them to sit, and Gyuri sits right across from you. “Hello, my name is Jang Gyuri, leader of Cloud Nine. Nice to meet you”, Gyuri introduces herself and has the others introduce themselves after. You’re not sure what to feel or think right now, but you can feel your heart beating fast. Haein thinks you’re nervous, so she takes point of the meeting. “My name is Lee Haein and this handsome guy next to me is a new employee at the company. He is the—“. You cut Haein off before she reveals your status, earning a pinch on the thigh from her, “hi, everyone. Nice to meet you”. “You look good”, Gyuri mouths to you, and you shake your head to stifle your cheeks from blushing.

Haein hands Gyuri some paper and tells her to pass it on. Haein then starts the briefing, “right, as you can read yourself, you guys will be doing a photoshoot and shoot some short adverts at a nearby studio. Some marketing people from the subsidiary and the two of us will follow you there. Any questions?”. One girl shyly puts her hand up, “c-can we get i-ice cream after?”. Gyuri lightly slaps the girl on the back, “please forgive us; she’s been obsessed with ice cream lately”. You put on a gentle smile, “we’ll buy some soft serve for each of you, okay? I promise”.

You tell them not to enter the studio right away and follow you to the dessert shop next door to get some soft serve. Other visitors turn their heads when they see you and the nine girls enter the shop, some even pull out their phones to record the sight. “Hello, can we get 9 soft serves, please?”, you say to the staff at the register. He tells you the sum, and you hand him your personal card. “That’s your card, isn’t it?”, Gyuri says softly, “thank you, babe”. While your heart does flutter hearing Gyuri call you that, you have something to address. “I haven’t been yours for nearly 4 years”, you whisper to her, “please don’t call me that”. You see that Gyuri’s eyes almost let out tears, her gentle heart stung by your words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that”, you apologize to her. You see over Gyuri’s shoulder that one of the girls is looking at you, so you show her a smile and act like nothing happened.

After handing out soft serves, you ask them to follow you to the studio for the actual photoshoot. “I know soft serve isn’t the best thing to eat first thing, so I’ll get you some fruits and kimbap after this—is that okay?”, you ask them. “You’re not a regular employee, are you, mister?”, says a girl named Jina. “You caught me, Miss Yoo”, you decide to reveal who you are to them, “my parents own the company I work at—I believe they call someone like me nepo baby”. You hear some chuckles behind you, and one of them sounds like Gyuri’s.

You and friends—well, not exactly “friends”; more like collaborators—enter a photoshoot set, where a man with a clipboard is waiting for you and co. “Hello, my name is Baek Juwon. I’m the creative director for today. Pleased to work with you”, he introduces himself. After exchanging greetings, Juwon proceeds to explain to the group that they’ll take turns for pictures and then they’ll do advert shoots with 3 members at a time. “Okay, let’s start with Yoo Jina, Jo Yubin, and Kim Myongji”, he says.

While Haein is busy talking to some marketing guys, you take a seat a few meters away from the photoshoot set. You get on your phone to text your parents about the first day of working for them; “I think I’m having fun”, you say to them on the group chat. You see in the corner of your eyes that Gyuri is approaching, so you put your phone in your pocket. “Can I help you, Miss Jang?”, you say as she sits next to you. “Please, don’t call me that”, she says, “I know we’ve been distant, but you don’t have to hurt me like that”. Amused, you shake your head, “distant is an understatement—you’re now out of my league, aren’t you?”.

You notice that Gyuri isn’t saying anything back, and when you look at her face, she looks like she’s about to cry. You fish a handkerchief from your back pocket and hand it to her. Gyuri uses the handkerchief to wipe her eyes, “I’m so sorry”. “I’ve forgiven you long ago”, you sigh, “I’m glad it turned out well for you, by the way”. Gyuri chuckles, “I know how cold you can be towards people, but I never thought I’d be on the receiving end of that”. She’s not wrong: you have this habit of acting and talking like you don’t care about people you consider to be—oh, what’s the word—unimportant. You sigh, “there’s ice cream on the corner of your lips—clumsy as ever, huh?”. Gyuri wipes her lips with your handkerchief, “and you’re attentive as ever, babe”. You flinch a little, “please don’t call me that”.

Before you know it, it’s now lunch time. As you’re walking towards the green room for lunch, Haein says that she has something urgent back at the office, so she’s leaving Cloud Nine under your watch for the rest of the day. “See you tomorrow, noona”, you give her a fist bump as she leaves.

You sit at the big table with lunchboxes on it and ask each girl to take one. “So, what’s your story?”, Yubin asks, catching you off guard. “Excuse me?”, you say, caught off guard. “I saw Gyuri-unnie talking to you when I was doing the photoshoot”, she says—you didn’t know she was that observant. “We went to school together”, you answer her, not revealing the whole thing. Gyuri, however, proceeds to blindside everyone by revealing your past: “we dated in high school, and I broke up with him a week before the show started”. You slap your forehead, “my God, Gyuri-yah, why did you say that to them—the bridge burned down years ago”. Gyuri looks at her members one by one, “they deserve to know”. You can’t help but let out a sigh, “sure, whatever you say”.

Everyone stays silent during lunch, presumably trying to process what Gyuri has just revealed and figure out what they think of you. In your head, all you can think about is how Gyuri shouldn’t have revealed your past relationship with her and what it would have been had she not left you. You conclude that everything has turned out the way that the universe wanted, and that you have a plethora to be grateful for, like Yuha, for example.

“Oppa, I’m so sorry”, Yubin comes up to you after lunch, “I shouldn’t have asked you something personal like that”. You smile, hiding the discomfort from her, “it’s okay, I’ve made peace with myself—please, let’s continue our work and we’ll get out of here right after, okay?”. Yubin nods, “I like working with you, oppa. You’re such a cool guy”. You chuckle, “thank you, miss. You’re a cool girl as well”.

“Thank you for your hard work!”, you say to everyone at the end of the shoot, earning bows and replies alike from everyone on site. You ask Cloud Nine’s manager if they have other schedules after this, and he reveals that they’re done for the day. Gyuri comes up to the two of you, “oppa, I want some private time with him. You can leave me if you want to, I’ll have him take me back to the dorm”. Based on the manager’s expressions, you can tell that he’s not a fan of the idea, but he grants Gyuri’s wish anyway. “What do you want?”, you whisper to her. “I just want to talk”, Gyuri whispers back, “at your place, preferably, away from others’ ears”.

You don’t know what Gyuri has in mind, and you’re partially convinced that tears will be shed, but you give her the time and space anyway. “Follow me, please”, you walk to lead Gyuri to your car. “Nice car”, Gyuri comments, and you hum in response. “Remind me to lend you some clothes”, you say to her after getting in the car. Gyuri holds your hand that’s resting on the gear selector, “you still have this habit, babe?”. “Hah, she said it again—is she really trying to win me back?”, you sigh deeply, “yeah, haven’t got rid of it yet”.

“Have a seat, I’ll get you some clothes”, you point at the sofa as soon as you enter your apartment with Gyuri. You walk towards your bedroom and grab a T-shirt and a pair of shorts for Gyuri to change into—you guess that wearing a one-piece dress all day doesn’t feel comfortable for her. You take a knee in front of the sitting beauty, “I know we haven’t done this in years, but can I help you change?”. Gyuri nods gently and stands up, “I like that you still ask for consent”. “That will never change”, you turn Gyuri around and unzip her dress in one swift motion. You step away and turn your back against her, “you can continue undressing and wear the clothes on the table”. “You don’t want to look?”, Gyuri asks, “you haven’t seen me naked in years”. You roll your eyes, “I’m just trying to be respectful here; cooperate, please”.

Gyuri tells you to face her, presumably because she has changed into your clothes. “Cool”, you sit next to her, “so, what did you want to talk about?”. Gyuri holds your hand, “I still love you; why are you so cold to me?”. You stay silent as you think of an answer, “I’m not trying to be an ass, but you did this to me”. You hear subtle sobs from the girl next to you, “do you know how much I regretted breaking up with you? Do you know how many sleepless nights I’ve had, just spent thinking about you?”. You close your eyes as Gyuri’s words sting your heart. “Listen to me, sweetheart”, you pull out a pet name out of the deepest hole in your heart and hold her hand, “you did what you had to, and I did what I had to. We wouldn’t be in this position today had things turned out differently back then. Let’s not frown over things that never happened, because we have other things to be happy for”.

You hope that your words would comfort her, but they make Gyuri cry instead. “I would’ve been happy had I stayed with you”, she tries to hug you from the side, “fuck, why did I throw everything away?”. You never liked seeing Gyuri cry, and the sight makes you shed a tear yourself, “sometimes good things fall apart, babe, and we can only hope that they’re replaced with more good things”. “I hate not being with you, love”, Gyuri’s voice trembles thanks to the emotions, “I’ll do anything to win you back”. Your brain guides your eyes towards a frame sitting under the TV: it’s a picture of you and Yuha, taken after she surprised you on your birthday. “What would Yuha say if she saw me with Gyuri like this?”, you think to yourself. Gyuri sits on your lap, thus blocking your view, “please, please tell me I still have a chance to be with you again”. You smile gently, “if we’re really meant for each other, we’ll find our way back, no matter the distance between us”.

Your answer seems to be satisfactory, making Gyuri lean forward for a kiss. You put Yuha to the side for now and focus on Gyuri—you silently hope that Yuha won’t make a surprise appearance at your apartment like she usually likes to do. “I love you”, Gyuri says with a smile and teary eyes. She then points at the picture with her thumb, “who’s the lucky girl, by the way?”. “Yuha, Song Yuha”, you say, “I’ve been dating her throughout university”. Gyuri nods, seemingly in approval of your life choices, “she must be a sweet girl. I know you don’t fall for random girls”.

You pull Gyuri towards you for a hug and pat her back until her tears die down. “I wonder if you watched my show”, Gyuri says between sniffles. “Of course, I did—Yuha and I rooted for you”, you reveal, “she cheered loudly when they announced that you made the cut”. Gyuri giggles, “I hope I can meet her one day”. “Yeah, maybe”, you’re never one to say never, “she’d kill us both if you told her you’re my ex, though”. “Would she kill us if we have sex right now?”, Gyuri asks—conveniently, her tears have stopped coming out of her eyes. Amidst your fluster, you manage to answer her, “yeah, totally—I’m sure you understand why”. Gyuri pouts, “honestly, thinking about the fact that you have sex with someone else makes me jealous”. “You lost your right to be jealous years ago”, you defend yourself.

“Fuck it, I don’t fucking care anymore”, Gyuri jumps off your lap and pulls your shorts down, “I want you—right here, right now”. You halt Gyuri by grabbing her wrists, “Yuha won’t be happy about this”. Gyuri looks frustrated right now, “please, babe, just this once—I’ll make it worth your while”. Something is telling to see this through, so you decide to play along. “Hah, fine”, you say, “no one hears about this, okay? Not your members, not your parents; no one”.

Gyuri agrees to your terms, and she moves to suck your cock. You throw your head back and savor the first contact, “God, I’ve missed you so much”. Gyuri giggles, “I bet I’m better at giving head than your Yuha”. You thrust your cock into Gyuri’s mouth harshly, “mention her one more time and I’ll kick you out naked”. You take her gags as an answer—a sign of obedience. You take a handful of Gyuri’s hair and tell her to start face-fucking herself on your cock, and she does just that: Gyuri bounces her head on your cock, taking you deep and gagging occasionally. Feeling overwhelmed, Gyuri pulls away from your cock while coughing, “fuck, I forgot how big you were”.

Before the two of you continue, you have something you want to address. That being said, let’s move to the bedroom first, shall we? You pull Gyuri onto her feet and carry her to your bedroom. You make Gyuri sit on your office chair and kneel in front of her, thus earning a giggle from her. “You still like kneeling in front of girls, babe?”, she asks. You chuckle softly, “yes, I do—now listen to me, please”. You take a deep breath before saying your piece, “I still have love for you, Gyuri-yah, but I can’t dump Yuha for you—at least not right now”. “I won’t ask you to do that”, Gyuri rubs your cheek softly, “if you’re truly meant for me, you’ll find your way back to me—isn’t that what you said earlier?”. You’re glad to see that Gyuri is still the same understanding and mature girl from way back when, “I guess some things never change”.

Now that you and Gyuri have come to an agreement, you decide to continue where you left off. “Baaabe”, Gyuri surprises you with an aegyo—you know Gyuri finds her own aegyo cringe, “your sweetheart wants to be taken care of”. You palm your face as you’re amused by her little stunt, “what does sweetheart want?”. Gyuri jumps onto your bed and spreads her legs, “sweetheart wants you in between her legs—holy fuck, that’s so cringe”. You get on top of her and come in for a kiss. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’ve missed you”, you say to Gyuri, causing her to blush. “I-I’ve missed you too, ba-babe”, Gyuri looks away to hide her pink cheeks, “sorry, no one has said such thing to me in years”.

There are a few questions in your head right now, and to answer one of those, you need Gyuri’s help, “Gyuri-yah, what are we doing right now?”. Gyuri takes a deep breath, “I’m trying to steal you from your girlfriend”. You ask her to elaborate, so Gyuri adds that she wants to increase her chance of success by having sex with you to remind you of the old days. “I don’t know why you’re so determined to be with me”, you admit your confusion. “Because I really believe that I’m meant for you”, Gyuri says, “no disrespect to Yuha, but I know I’m perfect for you”. You’re somewhat offended by that; Gyuri has little clue about what Yuha is like as a girlfriend, and after nearly 4 years of absence, she returns and claims to be the perfect girl for you. “Is that so?”, you ask, your deep voice subtly laced with anger.

Gyuri rolls you onto your back and gets off the bed, “let me prove it”. She strips entirely before returning to your lap, and as a response, you take off your T-shirt and get equally naked. Gyuri wastes no time getting your cock in her. “Ngh, fuck, I forgot what it’s like”, Gyuri throws her head back, “is my pussy not perfect for you?”. She is indeed perfect; you took her cherry back then, so the shape of her insides is the perfect negative space of your cock. “Keep going” is your command, and you’re replied by a nod.

Gyuri lies on your body and starts sucking your neck while her hips are busy bouncing up and down on your cock. “I guess I’m not seeing Yuha tomorrow”, you mindlessly utter, referring to the hickeys that Gyuri is leaving behind. “Ah, ah—c-can’t you tell her you’re busy or-or something?”, Gyuri says, her breath irregular from the cardio exercise, “I don’t want to spend just one night—oh, fuck, baby”. You slap her plump butt once, “your manager will kill me”. “I’ll make something up”, Gyuri straightens her back and bounces faster, moaning and yelping as she goes; “cute moans”, you think to yourself.

“Baby, baby”, Gyuri closes her eyes and braces for an orgasm, “I’m about to explode”. You hold Gyuri by the waist and help her get to the line, “cum for me, baby”. Gyuri removes your cock from her pussy with a scream, and you feel her juice hit your thighs and pelvis. “Never knew you could squirt like that”, you comment. “Y-you never tried hard enough hehe”, Gyuri teases, her eyes still closed. You want to defend yourself and tell her that you always tried “hard enough”, but it’s probably a topic to be brought up some day else.

“Give me your cum”, Gyuri says after recollecting her composure, “hold on, actually; I want to feel your cock for a moment”. If pre-orgasm Gyuri was fast and impatient, post-orgasm Gyuri is now slow and gentle, the purpose being so that she can really feel your length and thickness.

“Baby, I’ve missed you so much”, Gyuri says between soft moans, “I regret everything”. The fluster throws you off, “wait, wait, let’s not say that”. You move to a sitting position and pull Gyuri onto your lap, “please, let’s not say that”. “But why? Why can’t I say that?”, Gyuri starts sobbing, “I do regret everything. I regret breaking up with you. I regret being a celebrity. Fuck, I regret hearing that you have a girlfriend now”. “Baby, please”, you softly call out to her, “we’re happy with our lives, aren’t we? We have things to laugh at and be thankful for, don’t we? You wouldn’t have had this career had you stayed with me—everything turned out the way they were meant to”. Gyuri presses her forehead on yours, “I’m so sorry; I’m so sorry for everything—fuck, I don’t want this career anymore; I want to be with you from now on”.

You’re torn: you don’t want to validate Gyuri’s words and send her spiraling in regret, but you also don’t want to leave Yuha—and/or hurt her—after all you’ve been through with her. Gyuri taps your cheeks to get your attention, “I want to leave my group next year and get married to you—fuck everyone and what they think, respectfully”. You lift her up and remove yourself from the warm cave, “you’re not thinking straight, baby. I can’t let you throw your career away like that”. Gyuri isn’t happy with the fact that you pulled out, so she impales herself on your cock again, “ah, God, yes—you-you don’t want to be with me? Make me pregnant and start a little family with me? I promise I’ll be a loving and obedient wife”. Gyuri has said multiple times that she dreams of starting a family with someone she truly loves, and you’d like to think that the “someone” she has in mind is you.

All the while you’re thinking about Gyuri’s words, thoughts of Yuha start creeping up on you. You have no reason to break up with her, as you’ve been each other’s solid rock, providing mental and physical support in moments of need—Gyuri demands your answer now, though. “Baby, how can you be sure that I’ll be a good man for you if I must hurt Yuha to get back to you?”, you try to reason with her. Gyuri bursts out in tears, “I fucking hate her. I hate that you still think about her when I’m right in front of you”.

You close your eyes and think of a better answer—something that can provide comfort or assurance for Gyuri. You’re not sure if this is a wise decision, but you’ll say it anyway, “babe, listen to me: stay with your group until the end of your contract while I figure out what to do with Yuha. Once we’ve done our part, I promise I’ll come running to you”. Gyuri shakes her head. “Not until the end of my contract—next year”, she emphasizes. You take a deep breath, “okay, fine—I pray that the universe helps us”.

Yuha asked you to come over because she wanted to talk about something, so here you are, in front of her door. You see signs of crying on her face as she lets you in. “Sweetie? Are you okay?”, you ask her. You make her sit on the sofa and kneel in front of her, “sweetie, talk to me, please”. Yuha holds your hands tightly, and you see that her eyes are coated with tears, “I-I’m moving to the US, babe”. Aside from the fact that you’ll be having a long-distance relationship with her, you don’t see other downsides to her moving to another country. “Okay, so what’s the problem, babe?”, you ask. “M-my dad wants me to marry someone as soon as I move there”, Yuha’s dam breaks, “so-so now he wants me to break up with you”.

In your head, you’re reminded of your mom’s words about soulmates, but you don’t want to appear insensitive in front of Yuha and make her think that she’s the only one holding onto the relationship. “Baby, with respect for your dad, I believe that he wants the best for you”, you try to plead with her, “maybe you’re meant for him and not me, as much as it hurts for me to say that”. “I-I don’t want to hurt you, baby”, Yuha can’t stop crying, “you love me, right?”. You smile gently, “I do, baby, there’s no question about that”. Yuha nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “I love you too, baby”, she says, “that being said, I’m breaking up with you”.

Yuha’s words sting you the same way Gyuri’s did all those years ago, so you can’t help but let tears come out. “You’re always obedient towards your parents, aren’t you, cutie?”, you say with a smile, “I understand, love—I’m breaking up with you as well”. Yuha jumps off the sofa and into your arms, “I’m so sorry; we weren’t supposed to end like this”. You press your lips on her temple, “it’s okay, baby. I’ll help you make peace with the situation and say that I accept this outcome”.

You hug Yuha until her storm of emotions passes by, patiently offering comfort for her. Yuha pulls away from the hug and looks at you in the eyes, “I’m so thankful for you, oppa. Thank you for everything that you’ve done for us”. You feel a surge of warmth in your heart, “I’m so thankful for you as well, baby. I’d like to sincerely apologize for my shortcomings, by the way”. “No, you’re always so kind and loving”, Yuha rejects your apology, “the sex is great too, by the way”. You peck her forehead, “good to know, baby”.

“Oppa, will I see you again?”, Yuha asks as she walks with you to your car. “I’d like to hope so”, you stop and make Yuha stand in front of you, “I hope that we’ll see each other again in better and happier circumstances, babe”. You peck her lips once, “anywhere you go, remember that I’m rooting and praying for you, every step of the way”. Yuha pulls you in for a kiss in response, “I’m praying for you as well, oppa. Goodbye, my love”.

As you start driving away, you see in your mirror that Yuha has started crying again, and the sight makes your heart ache—you know that her dad’s decision is final and that there’s no opportunity for negotiations, thus leaving you with no other choice but to leave Yuha. “I pray for your safety and happiness, Song Yuha”, you say to yourself.

While it is true that you’re still mourning the dead relationship, you still need to inform Gyuri about this. You call her while driving, and she picks up right away—this girl is always on her phone. “Gyuri-yah, Yuha broke up with me”, you tell her the summary of events, “can we meet? I want to talk”. Gyuri tells you to pick her up at her dorm, so you quickly drive there to see her.

When you arrive in front of her dorm building, you see that she has a cap and a mask—the classic celebrity disguise. Gyuri gets in your car as soon as you’re stopped. “So, does this mean that you’re mine again?”, she wastes little time to get to the point. You tell her to be patient and wait until the two of you get to your apartment.

Gyuri pushes you to the wall as soon as you enter your apartment. “You’re mine now”, she says with fiery eyes. “Just now?”, you tease her with a smirk, “you’ll leave me again tomorrow?”. She leans forward for a deep kiss. “You’re mine for eternity, my love”, she smiles, “can we order food, by the way? Me hangry”.

As soon as you lift Gyuri to carry her to the sofa, she wraps her long legs around your body. “I like that you make me feel small”, Gyuri says. You sit down with her and give her your phone, “order whatever you want”. “Okay, two double cheeseburgers and onion rings”, she announces her choices and throws your phone over her shoulder, “I hope that doesn’t break”. You shrug, “I mean, I can just buy another”.

“Okay, so, what do we need to talk about? Because all I’m getting is that you’re coming back to me”, Gyuri says. You stroke her cheeks gently, “that is the plan, but I have to ask: will you be mine again?”. She laughs out loud, “what the fuck kind of question is that? Of course I will”. The both of you just look at each other with a smile on your faces. “Leave your group”, you say to her, “I want your full attention; no comebacks, no promotions, nothing—just you and me”. You hope that she remembers her promise from a few months ago and commits to it. “Next year is my last, I promise. I’ll be yours entirely after that”, she says. You entwine your pinky with hers, “let’s not make empty promises from now on, okay?”.

You lean forward a bit to entice Gyuri into kissing you, and she does just that. Gyuri takes it a step further and invades your mouth with her tongue, keen on wrestling yours. You palm the back of her head and make sure she doesn’t pull away. That doesn’t work, however, as Gyuri still manages to break the kiss anyway. “Please, babe”, she inhales sharply, “I can’t wait any longer—I don’t want to wait any longer”. Both of you separate from each other so that you can get rid of your clothes. “I don’t want to wait either”, you say to her.

Your sofa is soft and all that, but it isn’t big enough for you to have sex on, so you take her to the bedroom. You let her continue where she left off and be on top while you lie flat. “I won’t let you pull out—oh, yes, baby”, Gyuri moans as she slowly sinks on your cock. You slap her butt a few times, “go on, make us cum”. She leans in for a kiss and begins fucking herself at your command, breaking it every now and then to let moans escape her lips. “You’re mine, you’re mine”, she chants faintly as she bounces on your cock at a steady pace. You can comfortably validate that, as you no longer have ties with anyone else but her. “Yes, baby, I’m yours”, you peck her lips, “you’re never leaving me again”.

Your validation works wonders to entice Gyuri, as she picks up the pace—this is usually a sign of her incoming orgasm, too. True enough, Gyuri announces that she’s about to blow. “Never one to last long, hm?”, you tease her. “Oh, oh, yes, fuck”, she moans loudly, “that’s your job”. That is a fact: you’re the one trusted to last long enough during sex, and you gladly do so every time. Gyuri screams from the top of her lungs as her orgasm hits her like a small truck.

Feeling weak, she just let herself go and falls limp into your warm embrace. “God, thank you for bringing him back to me”, Gyuri mindlessly says, “I love him too much”. “Too much? You make it sound like it’s a bad thing”, you say, earning a bite on the neck from Gyuri. “I hate you”, she says in fake annoyance.

You let her catch her breath and regain her composure in your arms. You take this moment to clear something up, “baby, I didn’t mean to tell you to leave your group like that; you can stay with them and extend your contract and all that”. Gyuri plants her palms on either side of your head, “no, I don’t want to; I want to be with you—can I work at your dad’s company, by the way?”. You giggle, “first of all, the company is mine—soon, anyway—secondly, yes, you can; be my co-CEO or something like that”. Gyuri accepts your answer, “well then, give me your cum, my dear co-CEO”.

You let her stay on top and thrust into her from below. Only now do you notice the bouncing plump tits in front of you. You pull Gyuri down to get in range with your mouth and suck a nipple. “Yes, baby, yes”, she urges you on, “that feels so good, fuck”. You want to know how she’ll react to tits stimulation after not having it for a few years, so you reach for the other nipple and tug slightly. Based on her scream, you can tell that she enjoys it—some things never change, indeed.

You unlatch your mouth from her nipple and announce that you’re close. “Yes—oh, fuck—please cum inside”, Gyuri begs you. You lodge your cock deep in Gyuri and blow your load, a vengeance since you were blue balled by her last time. Gyuri lets out a long moan as she feels the warmth of your gooey goodness. “My God, I’ve missed that so fucking much”, she says.

“Thank you for the meal!”, Gyuri unwraps her burger and takes a bite, “that’s so damn good”. Since she’s showed enthusiasm and enjoyment towards the burger, you unwrap yours and take a bite yourself. “Wow, that’s so juicy”, you comment as you inspect the patty. “Not as juicy as the cream pie”, Gyuri smirks. “Says the blushing girl”, you say, referring to her pink cheeks, “seriously, though, this is so good”. You lift the top bun off and stack some onion rings on the patty. “This should hit hard”, you say before taking a bite. As you’re savoring the taste, Gyuri makes another naughty comment, “doesn’t hit as hard as your creampie”. You pinch her cheek, “stop already, will you?”. After munching your way through dinner, you see that there’s only one onion ring left on the box. You grab it and take a knee in front of Gyuri. “Jang Gyuri, will you be mine?”, you say to her, the onion ring a substitute to a diamond ring. “Only if you stay with me for good this time”, Gyuri takes the onion ring from you and puts it in her mouth. You drop your jaw in shock, “I didn’t break us up, did I?”. She nods, “that’s true; I did. I’m terribly sorry for that, my love. I’ll stay with you forever—for real this time”. You reject her apology—not because you don’t find it to be sincere or whatever, but because there’s nothing to be sorry for; Gyuri is back in your arms now, and there’s nothing tearing the two of you apart.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #male reader smut #smut #jang gyuri smut #fromis 9 smut

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haikyuuharemdreams · 6 months ago

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some angst (for now!) w akaashi keiji!! part 1

keiji was, by nature, more giving than he was receiving.

this was most apparent in his friendship with bokuto; bokuto’s volatile mood swings are usually left to be handled by keiji. while their teammates do occasionally help out with the ego boosting, keiji is usually the one bearing the brunt.

when you first appeared in his life, he couldn’t be bothered. no, that perhaps came off a bit too harsh. you were his classmate, sure, but you’ve never really had much reason to interact.

not until you pop up right in front of him on a thursday morning.

it was a compliment you gave him about his play at a match. he never thought himself exceptional by any means, and it didn’t help that bokuto’s presence overshadows everyone’s, including his. however, in yours eyes, he outshone everyone’s else.

you, just like most students in fukurodani, thought akaashi was cute. unlike most though, you also mostly noticed only him on the court.

most people only noticed bokuto, and occasionally other players when they make a good play.

as much as it sounds like i’m claiming you aren’t like “other girls”, that wasn’t what was meant.

of course, you do notice the rest. they are all great players, and it’s no secret that bokuto was going to be a star. but, for some reason, akaashi unfailingly catches your eyes each time he’s on court. his observation and deduction skills leads him to make decisions that allow bokuto to change the flow of the match; it all impressed you.

it helped that you were naturally more outgoing. you were worried at first, but you decided that there was no harm in acknowledging his ability.

three months after that, he asked you on your first date. another two months later, you became a couple.

when the both of you graduated, you decided to major in japanese language and literature. akaashi, however, decided to take a gap year to figure out what he really wanted.

part of him thought about pursuing volleyball, having been scouted by a smaller volleyball team, but he also knew he wasn’t as passionate as bokuto was.

he also considered something more practical, such as law or medicine, which he wouldn’t have trouble majoring in; he had always excelled academically. but, they weren’t exactly what he wanted either.

his internal turmoil worried you. he seemed lost, which wasn’t foreign to you, but you didn’t know how to help him when you were aware that this was something he had to resolve himself. you could only try your best to support him however you can, offering reassurance, opinions and advice.

he decided to take up some internships while in the process of discovery, and found one at a company that wasn’t too far from where you studied.

he would come to find you during his lunch breaks, often with food he rushed he buy before the queues get too long. he would also meet you after your classes, a tired but contented smile on his handsome face when you rush to hug him.

when he was accepted into the same university as you did, he wanted to celebrate with the woman he loves. unfortunately, you fell ill with a bug. he ended up cancelling the celebration to take care of you.

he doesn’t resent you for it, but he felt disappointed. he couldn’t explain why when he knew that it wasn’t your fault you fell sick; you had just been unlucky to share a class with the carrier.

but, he thought you would’ve at least tried to make it up to him after you’ve recovered. maybe he had set his expectations a little too high because while you did congratulate him, you made no suggestions to do a belated celebration. he didn’t feel like it was unreasonable, though, considering he had brought you out to eat and given you a small gift the day you got accepted.

but he had always been the giver.

you weren’t aware that he wanted to celebrate. you knew he went above and beyond for your matriculation, but it wasn’t something you necessarily wanted. you appreciated it, don’t get me wrong, but you didn’t really expect it from him. it was a pleasant surprise, of course, and you were ecstatic.

you thought a simple text and treating him to a small meal on a date would suffice.

while he did trying bringing it up to you, he ultimately did brush it off and assured you he was fine. disclaimer: he wasn’t, not completely at least.

akaashi was immediately placed into the starting line-up of the university’s men’s volleyball team, his reputation having preceded him.

with him being on the team, along with other freshmen and sophomores who were proving jto be just as capable, they finally stood a chance in the university volleyball nationals this year.

when they made it to the top 4, akaashi had been exhilarated and wanted to share that joy with you. hence, he invited you to watch his match.

you really wanted to.

your body disagrees. the night before his match, you decided to stay up just a bit longer to go through your texts. you’re going to be spending one entire day with him tomorrow, after all, might as well get some extra work done.

you wake up with a splitting headache the next day, and the painkillers you usually took aren’t working.

you head back to sleep, hoping that you’ll wake up pain-free. that did not help either.

you decide you had no choice but to bail on him, asking him to send you any videos and photos along with updates.

your no-show affected his mood; he doesn’t want to compete anymore. not when you’re not around to watch him. not when this is an important day for him, and you can’t make it. not when he would’ve let the world burn just to make it to anything of yours. not when there is no point in doing well when the only person he wants impress is you.

they lost that day, and he skipped on the team dinner that the coaches were treating them to for their hard work and achievements.

the heavens had to be mocking him at this point, because it started pouring a distance away from the university and he didn’t have an umbrella.

when he arrived at school, his first instinct was to find you, which is funny considering that he was upset and didn’t want to see your face. but, he needs to know if you’re okay.

“jiji?” you blurt, quickly rushing him in when you saw how drenched he was. “your match?”

“we lost,” he simply responds, sitting on your study chair.

“oh, love, i’m sorry.”

“how are you?”

his curt tone astonishes you.

“i feel slightly better. it still hurts a bit though, but i’ll be fine after sleeping.”

“that’s all i wanted to know. i’ll be going off now.”

“are you okay? why do you sound like this?”

he stands up, ready to leave.

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“what’s wrong?”

“i said, i don’t want to talk about it.”

he leaves, and you are left baffled as much as you were hurt.

he feels guilty for hurting you; his heart clenches thinking of how your face fell, how your eyes sparkled with tears that you tried to hold in and how cluelessly sweet you are with him, not even knowing why he’s upset but still trying to be as patient as you can be.

he desperately tries to sleep, tossing and turning the whole night. he has his phone on ‘do not disturb’, but he knows that you’re already texting him - apologising and expressing concern over how he acted.

he doesn’t want to read them. he’s guilty, but he’s also crestfallen.

he doesn’t sleep the whole night, and a knock at the door sends him trudging.

it is you, a small and cautious smile on your face accompanied with an iced caramel macchiato in your hand.

“jiji!”

he lets you in, accepting the drink you bought for him.

“what are you doing here so early this morning?” he asks, a part of me feeling pleased at the fact that you did this, another still conflicted.

“i’m worried about you.”

“i’m fine, (y/n). you should head to class soon.”

“my morning lecture has been cancelled,” you respond, your smile having vanished. “why are you calling me (y/n)? that’s not what you always address me by.”

he shrugs.

“akaashi keiji.”

he winces; he doesn’t it when you use his full name.

“you missed the match.”

“i know, and i’m sorry. i was planning to go, and i know how much you wanted me to be there. i’m so sorry, love.”

“okay.”

it isn’t, the apology doesn’t change anything.

“i’ll watch your next match, love. you’re going to have so many more opportunities to compete, and i’ll definitely be there to support you at each!”

“will you?” his question comes off too blunt, too direct.

“of course i will, jiji.”

“something might happen again, (y/n). maybe next time you’ll trip over something and end up in the hospital.”

his tone is accusatory.

“i didn’t choose to wake up with a headache, keiji.”

“you chose to sleep later.”

“for god’s sake, i didn’t know it was going to result in this.”

“exactly, and you won’t know if something is going to happen the next time,” he coldly replies, “i shouldn’t have any expectations then.”

“what the fuck are you saying?”

you explode, frustrated at his apathetic tone.

“the last time i was accepted, i wanted to celebrate with you just like we did when you were, but you fell sick so i took care of you. this time, you have a headache because of your own choice and still i came over to your room first to check in on you.”

“you didn’t have to do all of that, you know?” you shoot back, anger tipping over. “i never asked you to.”

“i did all of that because i love you, and you didn’t even care to try to make it up to me.”

“i didn’t know you wanted me to!”

he glares at you.

“it’s not about whether i want you to, it’s whether you even think about me or bother to put in as much effort.”

you stare at him, and burst into incredulous laughter.

“if i didn’t think about you, i wouldn’t have treated you to that meal after i’ve recovered. if i hadn’t bothered, i wouldn’t have passed on my notes to you in case you wanted them. if i didn’t care, i wouldn’t have asked your teammates to look out for you. i wouldn’t have asked your manager to ensure you stay hydrated. i wouldn’t have asked them for photos and videos of you.

i show my love differently, perhaps in a manner you’re not familiar with; that doesn’t mean i don’t love you. but all you see is this. that i don’t love you enough to reciprocate your effort.”

you stomp out of his room, leaving him to his own thoughts.

thank you! @dwaintydoll for the divider! 🤍

#keiji akaashi x reader #keiji akaashi imagine #akaashi imagine #akaashi keiji imagine #akashi #haikyuu x reader #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi x reader #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi angst #hq akaashi #akaashi x y/n #haikyuu angst #akaashi x you #keiji akaashi #akaashi keiji

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remuswriting · 2 months ago

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AN INVISIBLE LINE; OIKAWA TOORU

“What do you mean by that?” Tooru asks, and Y/N finally looks at him. There’s amusement in his eyes, as if he’s been in on it the entire time. “You lied to me!”

Or, Tooru goes to Y/N after a failed interview.

WORD COUNT: 818 words

TAGS: Alternate Universe; Journalist! Oikawa; Journalist! Reader; Coworkers; Pre-Relationship; Male! Reader

NOTES: Welcome to where I start writing articles where they're journalists because I work at a newspaper. If I keep writing them, then I'll probably write a series, but this won't be included. (Also, I went through Oikawa's struggle with my second article at the paper.)

Tooru has never been nonchalant a day in his life. His personality is big and everywhere. It’s off putting, and people find him annoying after talking to him several times. It’s why he doesn’t talk often with new people. It’s better when his personality slowly makes an appearance than abruptly, because just a couple of conversations can destroy the persona he’s created for himself.

However, here he sits in front of Y/N, wondering why he immediately went to him instead of to his own desk. It’s the kind of behavior he’s used to having with Hajime, but Y/N isn’t Hajime. For one, Y/N is taller, and then second is that Y/N actually has his entire life together. Hajime fell asleep mid-phone call last week while making dinner.

“The interview went terribly,” Tooru whines, and Y/N nods as he stares at his computer. “I asked about the renovation and they told me the entire history of the town instead.”

“Yeah, Kusaka-senpai is famous for that,” Y/N says, and Tooru sits up in his seat.

“What do you mean by that?” Tooru asks, and Y/N finally looks at him. There’s amusement in his eyes, as if he’s been in on it the entire time. “You lied to me!”

Y/N sighs. “Well, I didn’t lie. I just said he gives thorough answers.”

“But not to the questions you ask!”

“I still didn’t lie,” Y/N says, and Tooru can’t help but feel betrayed. He’s still new to this newspaper, and he trusted Y/N for guidance. (Not that Y/N ever promised to give him guidance. Tooru decided that on his own.) “There’s a reason Ukai-sensei hates whenever he’s involved in an article.”

“No one told me that.”

Y/N snorts as he shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure he did. I remember hearing him say to only interview Hisakawa-san.”

Tooru slouches back in his chair as he remembers the conversation. He just thought Ukai had something personal against Kusaka, not that he was a terrible person to interview. Ukai has always been weird, and only Y/N ever seems to understand him. Tooru heard Y/N did his internship while in university here five years ago, making him the third longest person to work there.

“How am I supposed to know what he means?” Tooru whines slightly, and Y/N gives him an unimpressed look.

“Common sense.”

Tooru clutches his chest, grabbing the fabric harder than necessary. “L/N-san! You wound me!”

Y/N rolls his eyes before looking at his laptop again. “Go patch yourself up at your desk.”

He’s not annoyed—Tooru is good at identifying that—but he seems busy. Yachi told him that Y/N isn’t always the best with words, even though he’s an award-winning journalist. Written words are easier than spoken, though. Tooru knows that far too well. People like his writing—they like the idea of him they see in the newspaper, but talking to him is another thing entirely.

“Will you supply the bandages?” Tooru asks, and the corner of Y/N’s lips twitch upwards. Tooru’s heart pounds against his ribs, and he wants to see Y/N really smile. He’s seen it before, but never from anything Tooru has said. It’s always from Tsukishima’s side comments or Yachi’s jokes.

Tooru hasn’t had the chance to spend enough time with Y/N in the last two months to share a moment, but maybe this is the beginning. He really hopes so.

“You should go write that article,” Y/N says as he pulls his drawer out, getting a sticky note. “Ukai-sensei will want it by 4, and it’s currently 2.” He looks at Tooru. “So, get to it.”

The mention of Ukai has Tooru getting up. It’s abrupt and there’s some fear in it. Y/N finally smiles, but he immediately tries to bite it down. All Tooru can think of is how handsome Y/N is when he smiles.

Tooru salutes. “Yes, sir.”

Y/N doesn’t bite back his smile this time as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Go away.”

There’s no heaviness in Tooru’s chest as he walks across the room to sit at his desk. He can see Y/N clearly from here, but it’s different from a distance. It’s not as personal as when he sits at his desk. When he looks over, he catches Y/N already looking. Instead of immediately shying away, Y/N stares for a moment longer before looking back at his laptop.

Tooru’s heart pounds away in his chest again. Hajime would say this is probably the start of another one of Tooru’s pathetic crushes. That can’t happen, though, because Tooru likes this place. He likes how nice everyone has been, and that Ukai doesn’t scream at him until he’s red in the face. It’s a nice place. He can’t let anything ruin that.

However, Y/N tucks some hair behind his ear before taking a drink of his water, and Tooru wonders if having a crush will actually ruin anything.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x male reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x male reader #i wrote this in less than an hour so i hope it doesn't suck

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jenn2sec · 5 months ago

Text

English vers.

Based On My Dreams Series (MAIN LINE):

❝ Healing Trip ❞

start - thursday20022025

couple - bigbang(you decide who) x fem!reader

chapters summary - after your strong resistance against the abuse from your boyfriend's (now ex) family, you were suspended from school for a year, so what will you do during that forced break? of course, take a direct flight to korea to heal! lets see how lucky you will be with bigbang-boys!

note - chaotic, bad words, side characters, this post won't feature bigbang, but read on and make your choice at the end!, funny, quantum multiverse, alcohol

caption section - after reviewing and organizing more ideas for the plot, i decided to officially develop the Based On My Dreams Series into a long-form fanfic (when i say long, i mean it will have a more structured storyline). y/n is in the late twenties and about to enter their thirties, a third-year student majoring in film scriptwriting.

We’re always open to feedback and ideas to make the story better!

[ Before I could make sense of everything, my feet were already standing on his grave. ]

After reviewing the entire script draft for the short film, you sent it to senior H/n. Just thinking about it made you frustrated—why did you have to do his work for him? This was supposed to be his graduation project! Your head felt as hot as a furnace, yet you still had to sit in the library after your morning classes, rushing to finish his “problem.”

“That jerk…” you mumbled, slamming your laptop shut before quickly stacking up your books into a neat pile and dragging yourself out of the library.

Time flew by, and you were already close to completing your second semester of your third year in university. Just one more semester and another year, and you’d finally have that bachelor’s degree in your hands. Lost in your feverish state, you found yourself daydreaming about internships—completely unaware that the so-called "talented" senior you had just cursed was now striding towards you with an air of arrogance.

“Hey, y/n! Come here for a sec.” He waved a hand at you like an impatient boss calling over an employee just to scold them. Just great. You had only insulted him in your head a moment ago, and now he had appeared like a summoned ghost. With a deep sigh, you bit your lip and walked over.

"I really appreciate your help, but you should really reconsider $#%&—" He kept rambling, his words buzzing in your ears like an annoying fly. What was this? Was he actually complaining about a script that he got for free?

You were too stunned to speak. The only reason you put up with this lunatic was because he was your boyfriend’s older brother and the son of the head professor of your department.

Let’s see… He was the son of the department head but was still drowning in over ten failed courses, barely hanging onto his chance to graduate. And ever since you had visited your boyfriend’s house and discovered that both of you were in the same screenwriting major, more than half of his overdue assignments had magically ended up in your lap. Call you stupid if you guys want—at first, you thought dating someone from the same school would be nice. His mother was a well-respected professor, and surely his older brother must be talented too, right? Wrong. And now, your so-called “future brother-in-law” was acting like he was the professor and you were the clueless student, lecturing you in the middle of campus with no regard for your dignity.

"I am sorry, but I’m really exhausted. Can’t you see the fever patch on my foreh—" You weakly protested, carefully choosing your words to avoid bruising his ego, but H/n immediately cut you off, clicking his tongue and placing his hands on his hips.

"Y/n, if you’re going to do something, do it properly. You can’t use being sick as an excuse to hand in a script full of plot holes!"

You froze. Your face went blank, as if someone had just smacked you over the head with a hammer. You could only stare at this shameless man in disbelief.

"Hey, are y—" Just as you were about to snap back, your younger boyfriend suddenly appeared from afar, grinning as he approached. Without hesitation, he hugged you from behind and kissed your cheek.

"What are you two doing out here?"

Seeing your boyfriend felt like spotting a lifeline in the middle of an ocean. You turned around, ready to whine about your suffering, but before you could even speak, the brat jumped back in horror, shoving you away a few steps.

"Wait, you’re sick?! Hey, hey, don’t get me infected! I have an internship next week!" He hurriedly pulled a mask out of his pocket and put it on, while his brother scolded him for overreacting.

And then, just like that, he kept going. Your dear senior resumed his endless criticism of your script, delivering yet another long-winded lecture about character development and scene construction.

A childish boyfriend. A useless, arrogant brother-in-law. And you—sick to the point of collapse, with a very solid pile of books in your hands.

Yes. With a rage-induced fever clouding your mind like a drunken haze, you didn’t hesitate. You hurled the entire stack of books at that senior’s face, then grabbed the thickest one and jabbed it straight at your stupid boyfriend, who is gaping.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT, YOU BASTARDS!!! ALL OF YOU, OUT! RIGHT NOW! F* OFF YOU MOTHER F******!!!!!!!!"

"That damn bastards….my gosh how can I know I’d break the library window! It’s all their fault! Huhuhu—" You wailed into your phone, sobbing so hard that your eyes were practically swelling shut.

On the other end of the call, your online best friend sighed. "So… what about your ‘future mother-in-law’?"

The mere mention of that woman made you cry even louder. "That witch! She only acted nice because she saw me as her eldest son’s academic lifeline! But the moment I broke their noses today, she went insane and demanded that the school expel me! Huhuhu—!"

Your friend let out a long, tired sigh. "So let me get this straight… You got suspended for a whole year just for assault and property damage? That’s kind of harsh. I’d say one semester at most." You sniffled. "No, no. Before that, I went to the academic office and reported that entire damn family—especially that bastard H/n—for forcing me to do his coursework."

"WHAT?!" Your friend shrieked in shock before bursting into laughter. Meanwhile, you grinned victoriously.

"Serves those assholes right."

You don't mind graduating a year late, you're a pretty good student after all—it's basically a gap year. But that asshole? His record's been erased. And his mom? Suspended for a whole semester. Ha!

"Why do you keep listening to those gay dudes all the time?"

A slipper flew straight toward the speaker—unfortunately, it missed. You've heard this comment enough times to no longer take it to heart, but you still had to put up some kind of resistance. Your older brother kicked your slipper further away—specifically, out onto the porch—before lazily walking over to the fridge to find something to snack on.

Meanwhile, you sat idly on the sofa, listening to your favorite music: K-pop.

It had been a long time since you last had the chance to relax like this. Ever since you got involved with that damn family, even your holidays were spent helping H/n.

So now, being able to unwind felt a bit unfamiliar. You started feeling like you had rested too much—your hands and feet were itching to do something.

"If you're so free, why don't you go out or get a job? Doesn't staying home bore you?" your brother asked, plopping down on the couch with a bag of snacks. He grabbed the remote and switched the TV to some streamer’s YouTube channel.

"HEY!" You grabbed your other slipper and threw it straight at his face—this time, it hit. After a brief scuffle, both of you lazily slumped back onto the couch.

"Getting a part-time job doesn’t sound too bad—"

Suddenly, your phone rang. It was your online best friend calling.

And with just one phone call, your plan to get a job turned into a healing trip abroad.

The room you rented was in an apartment complex located deep within a neighborhood already slated for redevelopment. Despite this, quite a few people still lived here. Most people—including your online best friend—found the place too cramped and bustling, but you actually liked it. Having lived with your parents and brother your whole life, you never had the chance to "coexist" with strangers like this. So even though you felt a bit uneasy, you valued this experience—it was something worth having!

Your online best friend picked you up from the airport and helped you find a short-term rental. (You had decided to stay for an extended period, given that you had an entire year of free time.) After finishing the move-in process, she immediately switched into tour guide mode and took you on an adventure through Seoul.

This was only the second time you two had met in real life—the first being when she visited your country for a trip. Now, it was your turn to visit hers. Twice was more than enough to erase any awkwardness. The two of you went all out, exploring every corner, from delicious street food to fun entertainment spots.

“Lucky for you, you know enough Korean to communicate, right?” she asked, biting into a strawberry tanghulu—the popular sugar-coated fruit snack often seen in TikTok dance videos. You nodded slightly, using your own candy stick to poke at the hardened sugar stuck on your molars before replying.

“Just a little. I’m definitely not fluent enough to compete with the locals.” You joked, recalling how, during your first meeting, she had been too flustered to even speak English properly.

Both of you had made an effort to learn each other’s native languages, but for the most part, you still communicated in English for convenience, occasionally throwing in phrases from the second language. So naturally, she reacted quickly to your teasing:

"야! 놀리지 마!! (Ya! Don’t tease me!!)”

She laughed awkwardly at her own outburst, making both of you burst into laughter. Your attention was then quickly stolen by a brightly lit bar nearby.

“Hey, I didn’t know Aven Star had a branch in Korea,” you remarked.

“Of course they do! They even invite artists over all the time. Wanna go in? Who knows, maybe you’ll run into one of your ‘husbands,’” she teased, nudging your shoulder.

You were about to agree instantly, but one glance at your outfit made you hesitate. “I can’t. I look like a complete mess right now.”

“Excuse me?! Stop acting like a pick-me girl! You look amazing, so get in there and have fun!”

Well, if that damn family knew you were out here vacationing and enjoying yourself, they’d be fuming. Just the thought of it made you relax a little more and confidently step inside.

The moment you entered, your ears were greeted by remixes of old-but-gold US-UK songs, refreshed with an upbeat twist that made them even catchier. The dim, flickering lights were adjusted just right—not harsh on the eyes—but the place was packed. That was typical for this bar. You never went bar-hopping much during your school days, but if you did, Aven Star was always your go-to. It was surreal that your favorite club had somehow followed you across the world, making your healing trip feel even more complete.

You quickly let yourself soak in the atmosphere while waiting for your best friend, who was busy flirting with the bartender (and ordering more drinks for both of you). The tension in your body gradually melted away, your shoulders feeling lighter by the second. It was hard to believe this trip was already working wonders—on just the first day.

Then, out of nowhere, a cold liquid spilled down the back of your neck, soaking your entire back. A sharp shiver ran up your spine, triggering an instant wave of shock and discomfort that shot straight to your brain, making you yelp. Luckily, the bar was noisy enough to drown out your outburst.

Spinning around, you searched for the culprit—and found yourself facing a guy dressed in a breezy, casual outfit. His face was undeniably Korean, but he wasn’t bad-looking at all. In fact, when combined with his overall aura, he looked…pretty cool!

His expression, however, was hilarious. Though the dim lighting made it hard to see clearly, his wide eyes, hand-over-mouth reaction, and panicked mumbling made it obvious he was apologizing and checking if you were okay.

You were in too good of a mood to get mad. You were about to say something, but then you spotted your best friend scanning the crowd for you. With no time to linger, you flashed the guy a quick grin, leaned in slightly, and said a few words before slipping through the dancing crowd to rejoin your friend.

"________"

| If You Choose to Say Something Playful.

| If You Choose to Say Something Reassuring. [comingsoon]

_____

F i x a r a w S o f t e n

thursday20022025

23:46

︾︾︾︾︾︾︾

to speed things up and because my english isn’t really that good, i decided to use a translation tool to help with the language switch. a bigbangxreader fanfic operating on the quantum multiverse theory, why not?!

every choice you make leads you to a different person, opening up distinct storylines, what do you think?!

hope you all understand and enjoy ♡

#fanfic #english version #x y/n #y/n #kwon ji young #choi seunghyun #kang daesung #bigbang #dong youngbae #bigbang x reader #x reader

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eliotquillon · 6 months ago

Note

FIC REQUEST: cameron and rowan talking during cursed. i beg

first fic of 2025 lets go

“All this hate,” Cameron says. “It’s toxic.”

“Then stay away,” Chase suggests, flat and tense, except she’s never been any good at that.

She is not starstruck, exactly, to meet Rowan Chase—nearly a year with House, and Cameron knows better, by now, than to trust other doctors based on reputation alone—but there is a part of her, the same part of her that had to be pinched when she cinched her Mayo Clinic internship, that is secretly thrilled. This is the big time, she thinks; these are the big names. Unlike Foreman, Cameron did not get into medicine to rub shoulders or make contacts, but in med school she slept with a copy of Rowan Chase’s textbook underneath her pillow before every rheumo exam. It is difficult not to be excited. He is the autoimmune version of Elvis, after all.

Before that, though: he is Chase’s father.

The thing is—Cameron knows Chase. She knows his embarrassing med school stories, knows his ears turn red when he blushes, knows that he’s allergic to strawberries and that he has season tickets to the local rugby team and that he arranges his clinic duty hours around his favourite nurses. She prides herself on being the sort of person who, in an emergency, would be able to rattle off all the relevant information about a coworker: blood type and next of kin and religious preferences. She prides herself on knowing people, full stop. She knows that she fulfils the stereotype of being a woman who cares, sometimes hates herself a little for it, but it has never been a good enough reason to stop caring. The world would be a better place, Cameron thinks, if more people took her lead. If more people smiled at babies, and held doors open for each other, and remembered people’s names.

She knows Chase, but she knows nothing about his family. Broad strokes, a first-draft sketch: born in Sydney, moved to Melbourne before his mother’s death, child of divorce. Even that much had been like pulling teeth; she’d had to feign ignorance about basic geography to get him to be more specific than just ‘Australia’, and he’d spat out the divorce anecdote, ashamed, when she asked him if 30th wedding anniversaries called for pearls or silver while planning a gift for her own parents. But it isn’t as if he knows much about her family, either. Cameron dislikes hypocrites—her own hypocrisy keeps her up at night—and she is not rushing to tell Chase about her husband, or the shouting matches she used to have with her father, or the way she went fleeing to Arizona for residency. She knows enough to know pushing isn’t worth her time. She knows enough, she thinks. But she is wrong.

“Where’s Chase?” Cameron frowns, walking into the conference room; she is back from clinic duty, flustered and rushed from the urgent trill of her pager. CODE RED CHASE, it had read, which would have been slightly more concerning if not for the fact that she received an identical message last week, just for the code to be about Chase misplacing his car keys and House wanting everyone to line up so they could point and laugh. “Is everything alright?”

House, smiling serenely around his coffee mug, makes a sweeping gesture towards the kitchenette. “He’s right here. Dr Chase,” he says, pointing at the stranger lurking by the sink; he’s older, distinguished looking, and giving Cameron a genial, if not bemused, smiles, “meet Dr Cameron. She’s an immunologist; I’m sure she can keep you entertained while I get an urgent consult.”

“But Gabe isn’t—“ Cameron starts on autopilot.

“Not that patient,” House scoffs. “I have it on good authority that the world doesn’t revolve around this department. Although I prefer it when she’s playing bad authority, if you know what I mean.” He gives an exaggerated wink. “Do stick around, Dr Chase. I’m sure Robert will come back to catch up—“ House waves his hands vaguely, “—eventually.”

It’s the repetition that makes it all click. “Oh,” Cameron blinks. “You’re—“ Chase’s dad, is what she means to say, but what comes out is, “You’re a big deal.”

Rowan keeps smiling. Knowing what she does now, she tries to pick out things that remind her of Chase: the white teeth, she thinks, and maybe the set of his shoulders. Not his nose, or his jaw, but perhaps the eyes. “That’s very kind,” he says. “I believe Robert has gone to search the patient’s house, if you were looking for him.”

“I have some time,” Cameron says. “I can give you a tour, if you’d like? Unless you and, uh, Robert—“

“A tour would be wonderful,” Rowan cuts her off. “Please. Lead the way.”

There is something that Rowan reminds her of that she can’t quite put her finger on. He is polite, which she likes; he makes a point of calling her Dr Cameron, and walks a careful half-step behind. In the Oncology wing, he hesitates for a half-second, and Cameron says, “Sorry, it’s always very busy in here—“

“Not at all,” Rowan says, with another pleasant smile. “Please, continue.”

She figures it out by the time they get to the cafeteria, Rowan opting for mineral water and a salad—he is exactly what Chase has modelled his bedside manner after. Uncanny, once she puts a name to it: Cameron gets the foreboding sense that he’s about to ask her if she has a family history of autoimmune disorders at any given second. But he doesn’t, of course. Instead, he smiles again and says, “So, Dr Cameron. What made you want to become an immunologist?”

It isn’t a question that Cameron gets asked very often these days; patients are often oblivious to her specialty, see her only as an extension of House—which, she supposes, is a fair assessment—and dates very rarely get to the point where they know the specifics of her job beyond just doctor. Why did you want to become a doctor is an easier question, one with a canned response: because I wanted to help people. Why did you become an immunologist, though—

It’s harder. Harder when she’s sitting at a cafeteria table with, if not the father of modern rheumatology, then at least its uncle.

“I was a pretty stubborn kid,” Cameron says at last. “Always had to have things exactly the way I wanted them. Then I went to med school, and we had this lupus case study, and—the idea that my body could just turn against me like that. It scared me. And I didn’t want to be scared.” It is not quite the whole truth, but it is close. She has never told Chase this; he never asked. There’s a pang of guilt, but it soon subsides when she makes eye contact with Rowan. He is pensive. He is smiling.

“The immune system isn’t the only part of our bodies that can turn against us,” he says thoughtfully. “The same applies to cancer, for instance.”

Cameron had the same thought process, too. Only in the opposite direction. Cancer had been something she’d been so desperate to get away from, but that feeling of betrayal—that the body of someone she loved could produce something that killed him—never quite left. “For instance,” she agrees now. “But immunology is what stuck. What about you? Why rheumatology?”

It has always been something she’s been curious about, how Chase ended up in such a different field of medicine to his father; people die of rheumatological conditions, of course, sometimes even quickly, but it is world away from the ICU. It is why Cameron took this job, really: immunology is a wide universe, but often a slow one. She had seen too many slow deaths, spent too much time rotting in her department. She’d been ready to move on. Change of pace. Change of life.

“My father was a trade unionist,” Rowan says. “I spent my boyhood in Czechoslovakia. Years of hard labour and arthritis left him bedbound. I wanted to find a cure.”

He is lying. There is no big giveaway—he doesn’t duck his head, or scratch his neck; his voice is still low and even and amiable—but he is lying, Cameron thinks, with a strange sense of detachment, like she is a child who cannot be trusted to know the truth. She wonders if this was Chase’s whole childhood. It isn’t enough to hate a person, she thinks, but perhaps enough to resent them.

“That’s very noble of you,” Cameron says. “Devoting your life to research like that.”

Rowan smiles. He says, “Robert is far more hands-on, of course. He took a different path.”

She thinks of Chase scheming to get Gabe out of the room with his parents, silently pleading with her not to contradict him. Coming up with obscure ways to find tapeworms. Volunteering to interrogate the pharmacist for their patient with colchicine poisoning. Foreman, silently fuming over Chase’s perfect patient reviews; Chase dimpling and saying, sucking up still requires suction.

“He likes to get things done,” Cameron agrees. She says, “He’s a good doctor. I count him as a friend.”

“You’re lucky,” Rowan says. She imagines him adding: I don’t.

“This thing with your dad,” Cameron says the next day, when he’s asking her to let the others know that he’s re-rescheduled his clinic duty, “you can’t just ignore it. He’s asked to consult on the case properly; he’s going to be around.”

Chase, fussing with his clinic paperwork, hesitates. “There’s a saying amongst kids with divorced parents,” he says at last. “Every deadbeat dad says it at some point or another. The phone goes both ways.”

Cameron frowns at him for a moment. “To extend the metaphor,” she says, “he’s ringing now.”

Chase closes his eyes. Steels himself. She sees Rowan in him, just a flash. “Doesn’t mean I have to pick up.”

Back in the MRI room:

“Then stay away,” Chase says, and Cameron has never been any good at that, but this time it isn’t her phone line to cut.

#house md #asks #allison cameron #rowan chase #robert chase

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weeeeeekly · 8 months ago

Text

listen to me – jake sim x afab!reader

blurb Your friend mysterious disappears from her Halloween party, and as the good friend you are, you drive to the apartment of some random guy she left with. You, either unfortunately or fortunately, stumble upon something out-of-this-world.

info incubus!jake x human!reader ft. stayc sumin, sieun, isa (lee chaeyoung), & jay from enhypen

WARNINGS!!! NSFW, MDNI 18+ blog, dubcon/noncon since jake does influence the reader to stay, somnophilia maybe, allusion/mention of “drugging” for bad reasons, dom!reader, sub!jake, minor character deaths, swearing, reader is mean to jake, riding position (sorry it’s the only position i know how to write), use of “babe” for reader, mention of “pussy”, not proofread/edited just pure free flowing thought

this is FICTION!!!!! everything is made up by me. the stuff written out is not meant to be a representation of the people, places, or ideas mentioned. also, prob not accurate to real life counterparts – idk sex.

wc 1.7k

You were currently at your best friend Chaeyoung’s apartment for her Halloween party. You’re dressed up as Jennifer Coolidge as Fiona and Chaeyoung is Sam from A Cinderella Story.

The baby pink nightgown and matching sheer robe was bought secondhand off the internet, and you made sure deep clean and steam it. You need to smell and look good if you were going to get lucky tonight.

And you were at the point where you would fuck anyone. Literally (almost) anyone.

Your standards had been lowered substantially as your horniness levels increased substantially. It wasn’t your fault that you had been unintentionally forced into a dry spell this semester due to your internship and part time job. You were quite literally too busy to fuck.

But that was all going to change tonight. Friday, October 31st Halloween. Your bosses let you off early today due to them both having children that they were going to take trick or treating, and you had the day off tomorrow. It felt like an apology from the universe for putting too much on your plate so far.

Yes, you were angrily stewing in the corner on your phone since Chaeyoung did run away at midnight with some guy she just met at the party in true Cinderella fashion. Leaving behind a pissed you as she knew that you wanted to be at 1 AM since you work at 8 AM and it was 1:30 AM with her no where to be found.

Just great.

“Please leave a message after the tone.”

“Dude, where the fuck are you? Please send an address so I can bring you back and I can go home.”

1:30 AM

you where r u

you seriously

you ?????

you i have work in 6 hours & i want to sleep

1:35 AM

chae 1130 decelis drive

you ur alive omg

Opening up Find My for Chaeyoung’s updated location. You turn to get your car keys out of your bag, excusing yourself in the sea of people in her apartment as they throw back alcoholic drinks. Sumin and Sieun spot you from the couch and walk to you.

Sumin asks, “Where is Chae?”

“I’m going to get her right now.” You tell the duo dressed as Brianna and Gabriella, part of the group costume of A Cinderella Story.

“We’ll make sure the party doesn’t spiral out of control.” Sieun tells you.

You thank them and exit the apartment, running down the 4 flights of stairs to the parking lot.

Standing outside of whoever the fuck’s apartment, you can’t help but notice how nice the complex is. Too nice to be in your price zone. You got lucky that the set of gates were open for the holiday.

You ring the doorbell and send another text to Chaeyoung as you take notice of the immaculately decorated doorway, fake cobwebs and life size skeletons on either side of the door.

The door opens to reveal an extremely attractive guy around your age, dressed as a vampire.

“May I help you?” A thick Australian accent takes you by surprise.

“Hey, I’m here to get my friend, Chaeyoung. She’s in a white ballgown and a white mask.”

The guy nods as he not-so-subtly checks you out. “Oh her? Yeah, she’s currently busy with Jay.”

“Can I come in to get her?”

He steps aside, inviting you in. “Be my guest. I’m Jake, by the way.”

You tell him your name as you walk in. Jake closes the door behind you and points you to the hallway.

“Doors at the end.”

He walks behind you as you follow his directions. As you get closer you can hear low music behind the door, but as you raise your hand to knock, the door swings open. Chaeyoung is sound asleep on the bed and Jay is sitting up next to her, looking at you.

“She’s a little tired.” He winks at you.

“Cool. I don’t care. I’ll just carry her back to my car.”

Jay looks behind you, presumedly to Jake, but you ignore it and walk over to your friend.

Jake’s hand creep up onto your shoulders. “You should stay. Can’t you see that Chaeyoung is in deep sleep.”

You grit your teeth as you remove his hands. “I’d feel better if she was sound asleep in her own bed in her apartment. I really don’t have time for this.”

Lightly shaking Chaeyoung, you whisper. “Wake up.”

When she doesn’t stir even when you begin violently shaking her shoulders, you feel a chill creep over you. Turning to Jay, you spit out “Did you fucking drug her!”

“I didn’t drug her.”

“Oh my god, you did! What the fuck is your problem?“

“Jake.” Jay begins, but you shock him by picking up Chaeyoung. Jake stands in front of you, stopping you from leaving the room.

Your biggest mistaken was looking into his eyes – eyes that were glowing red as he began compelling you.

“Listen to me.” Your body is under his control. “Put her back on the bed and follow me to my room.”

Following his commands, you end up finding yourself in his room across the hallway. You don’t feel fully cognizant, but you know you didn’t eat or drink anything from them. You surmise that you must have inhaled something in Jay’s room; that still wouldn’t explain the glowing, red eyes.

Makeup technology has come a long way.

“Why are you doing this?”

Looking up at him, Jake smiles at you as he strokes your cheek.

“Go to sleep.”

Waking up to someone laying next to you is weird, especially when that person is Jake and you’re not at home to start getting ready for work. “You’re fucking kidding.”

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

You try to sit up, but your body won’t move – you don’t have any feeling in your limbs.

“God, I can’t believe I made you my sleep paralysis demon.”

He dramatically sighs and pretends to faint, “You think of me?”

Thankfully, you can roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick. Why can’t I move my body?”

“You’re under my spell, babe.”

Narrowing your eyes, you open your mouth to call him a “cunt”, and not in a positive cunty way, when you watch with your own two eyes as your phone floats from your bag into Jake’s expectant hand. He notices your heart speeds up at the scariness of not understanding what was happening.

“Don’t worry, babe, it’s just some borrowed demon magic.” He casually throws out as he types on your phone. “Anddd… you’re out sick for today, you’re welcome.”

“I know you’re hot and all, but if you wanted to get my number you could have talked to me normally at Chae’s party. Not do all this weird ass shit.”

“You think I’m hot?” Jake smirks.

“Don’t ignore me!”

The next thing you know, Jake is hovering above you with his hands next to your head, his eyes on your lips. “You should touch me.”

As if the so-called “demon magic” spell was broken, one hand tangles through his blond hair and your other goes over his lush lips. “You’re hotter when you shut up.”

You did think Jake was very attractive – minus all the creep energy – you’re still not entirely sure what was happening, but you did want to fuck him. “I’m in charge now.”

Flipping him over, you have both of your knees on either side of him, pinning his hands to the bed as you sat on his waist, feeling his boner. You lean down to kiss his lips. He’s an amazing kisser which shouldn’t be a surprise, but you were thankful that he knew how to use his mouth.

“You should take your pants off.”

Jake’s pants rip clean off as you help him, discarding them off to the side. He grins when you’re immediately greeted by his dick as he wasn’t wearing any boxers.

“You went commando?”

“Easy access.”

Pushing him back down on the bed, you reach into your bra for the condom you stashed in there earlier. He raises an eyebrow at you as you open the packet. “Just like you said – easy access.”

The condom is rolled onto his dick, and you waste no time lining it up to your pussy and sink down on him. Jake throws his head back in pleasure, hissing at the feeling as you let out a moan.

“Fuck, now that’s good.” You say as you begin rocking back and forth.

He lets out a groan in response as you move your lips to his ear, “We could have done this hours ago if you just talked to me.”

“Guess we should, shit, make up for, fuck, lost time. God.”

Jake’s hips buck up to meet yours as you continue riding him, enjoying the slight strain in your thighs as your knees hold his hands down.

“Can’t use your “magic” now.”

It’s like his dick was made with you in mind with the way he’s filling you right now. The pleasure is so good that you almost lose your train of thought. But if he keeps moaning underneath you like that, you might allow dumbification to take over.

So close. And you were close to cumming.

“You’re so pretty.” Jake blurts out causing you to clench around him at the compliment. “D-don’t do that or I’ll cum.”

“But I want that.” You clench around him again and make sure to slow your movements down. Jake continues bucking his hips into you and you know he’s close when his eyes screw shut.

Smiling, you reach into your bra to clutch the silver cross and slam the item down on Jake’s chest. He screams in pain as the cross touches his skin, harming the incubus. Jay slams the door open and falls to the ground when you throw the cross at him.

Removing yourself from him, you fix your dress and grab the holy water from your bag. “Now you can’t hurt anymore girls.”

Ceremoniously, you dump the flask over Jake as the incubus inside his body dies. Once Jake lays still do you check for his pulse, faint but still there, and pick up your phone. You step over Jay’s body and dumping more holy water to retrieve Chaeyoung.

“Are you done?” She asks while checking her nails.

“Yeah, now let’s get out of here. We still have 4 more to go.”

masterlist | kinktober masterlist

author’s note happy halloween!!! idk what this turned into… but kinktober is officially ober for me! i wanted to write more, but life got in the way :/

anywayyyy time to focus on the inheritance, write the other one shots for december version of kinktober, & the other ideas i have

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen smut #jake sim x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #jake sim x you #sim jaeyun x you #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut #kinktober 2024 #let’s get fucking feral this month #please enjoy my brain rot & please reblog!!#but don’t steal this to publish as your own here or another website because that’s plagiarism & i would be upset

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flowery-mess · 1 year ago

Text

Swan Lake

Noah x ballerina reader

I will never forget the way I was feeling at that stage in front of all those people. My parents and siblings in first row, watching me with eyes full of tears and pride. I got the lead role in Swan Lake at the age of 16 which was seen as big accomplishment in ballet world. In that moment I felt happy, proud of myself and stronger than ever. But that didn’t last long.

Just a seconds after the big red curtain was closed and me and other dancers went in the direction of our changing room, I heard my name being called. Screamed, actually.

I turned around to see our trainer speed walking to me. I quickly went over the whole play in my head. What did I do wrong? I couldn’t think of anything, I felt good. She found million reasons to tell me I was a bad choice for playing the lead role, that I’m too fat and I won’t play on the next date.

That was it. That night I told my parents I’m done with ballet and I’m quitting immediately. My mother was ballet dancer too, we talked a lot about how hard it was for me lately, so she agreed with my decision and went to talk to my trainer. I packed my things and never saw that woman again. That felt like a big rock fell off my shoulders. That was 10 years ago.

“What are you thinking about?” Noah asked, his hand gently placed on my thigh as we were driving to my family home for Saturday lunch with my family.

“It’s 10 years anniversary of me ending my ballet career. I was thinking about it a lot recently.”

“Thinking about as?” he waited for my response as he didn’t really understand how I feel about it.

“As I miss it, I guess. I was thinking about talking with my mom about it today. Also I looked up some ballet classes in our area. But I don’t know, it was just a silly idea.” I shrugged it off.

I never really talked with Noah about my ballet career. I told him I did ballet for 14 years and quit for mental health issues. I mean, it’s very much known how the ballet industry works, so he understood. I have very mixed feelings about getting back into it at my age, so I haven’t told anyone yet.

I tried to stay healthy and fit, I sometimes go to open dance classes and sometimes I try some ballet steps. I still got it. I am a lucky one, I still have good stretches and I learn steps quickly. I just got bored of doing it only in our living room.

“Really? That’s not a silly idea, it’s actually a really cool idea. Did you find any good places?” I was surprised with Noah’s excitement. He is very supportive of everything I do, but I guess I expected different reaction.

“I like two ballet studios. They have some good teachers and also open classes, just for hobby attendance. One is on Mondays and the other one is on Thursdays, so I can try both and then see which one I like more.”

“Are you signed up already?”

“No, I am not sure Noah. It brings up lot of bad memories, 10 years ago it got me into a really bad place and I’m scared it’s going to be the same this time.” I felt tears coming as I thought of little 13 years old me crying through the whole night, because I was told I’m fat for ballet. That I’m not good enough. That I’m too tall to be a ballerina. That my skin is too pale. That I got in just because of my mother. That I’m never going to make it.

Those memories make me feel little and so vulnerable.

“I’m sure it will be great honey. If you miss it, then you should try it. But it’s your decision, okay? I don’t want to push you into anything. Take your time to think about it, talk with your mom and you will see what’s her opinion on this, right?” he brought his hand that was holding mine in it to his lips and placed small kisses against my palm.

“Thank you.” I shot him a smile which he gladly returned.

I loved days like today, spending time with my family. All of them love Noah, so after we have lunch, we are usually both separated and have conversation with someone else. Firstly, I talked to my siblings about college and their new internships, while Noah talked with my dad about new music and their upcoming Europe tour. My dad absolutely loves Bad omens and I am sure he is their biggest fan. When my family visits for shows, he never wants to be in the backstage, watching the show from safe space. He always goes in the crowd, which makes my mum crazy scared every single time.

I used this as a chance to talk to mom about the ballet thing that was going around in my head.

“Mom do you mind coming with me outside for a minute?”

“Of course darling.”

We took our coffees with us as we made our way to the garden and sit on the big couch that my parents had there for my whole life. That thing is going to outlive all of us.

“What is it darling?”

“What do you mean?” I tried to hide my worries, but my mom knows me too well.

“I know when my baby is worried about something. What is it? Is it Noah? Are you sad he’s going to leave for tour soon?”

“Oh no, well, yes that too, but it’s not the first time, that will be okay. It’s something I wanted to talk about especially with you.” I played with the cup in my hands and avoided the topic as long as I could.

“Come on hon, spit it out.”

“I was thinking about getting back into ballet.” I said and kept my eyes low, focused on the green grass. I looked up just because my mom wasn’t saying anything. “What? Are you going to say something? I don’t know what this face means.” I was honestly so confused with the way her face was looking at me. Was she happy about? Sad? I couldn’t tell.

“Well, I was expecting this much sooner than now.”

“What?”

“I always thought you will want to get back to it at some point in your life hon. You loved it. Aside from those ugly things, you loved ballet. I was so angry at that woman who ruined for you.”

“Why did you never say anything?” I was so confused. She was waiting for this for years and never talked about it with me?

“Because it’s your decision, not mine. I didn’t want you to think I was disappointed with you or pushing you back into it. Did you think of where would you start with classes? And would you want to take part in plays again?” She was right. It is just mine decision and with everything she saw me go through I understand she was worried.

“I found two studios near our home that look good. They have weekly open classes that I was thinking about. But I wanted to talk with you first about it.”

Then we fell into long dialogue about everything connected with be going back into ballet. My mom gave me a courage to at least try it. She said my eyes lit up when I talked about the good memories I had from my child age. She also told me that I am more mature than I was back then and even if I don’t think I can handle it, I can. And she was right.

I’m a grown woman now, I can handle myself and protect myself. It’s also just open class for everyone who wants to try ballet, there will be no judgement.

“I’m going to try it.” We left my parents house later than expected, so it was dark outside when we were driving back.

“The open classes? Did you talk with your mom about it?”

“Yes and she said I should give it a chance. So I guess I won’t be home on Monday evening.”

“Can I go watch you?” Noah asked.

“What?” I returned him a question, not knowing what he meant.

“I mean I never saw you do your ballet thing and you will be wearing those ballet outfits and I’m sure that will be hot.” He said as if it was obvious fact that I should’ve known.

“You’re not being serious right now, are you?” I tried to hold my laugh in at his innocent clueless face.

“Well I’m not, but I would really like to see your little ballet outfit for sure.” He turned his face to you so you could see his smirk.

“Sure, watch the road you perv.”

It had already been a month since I started going to open classes in the studio I chose after the first week. I chose the one closer to our home, their dance rooms were bigger and more modern and our teacher was a lovely girl, possibly my age.

And it felt amazing. It felt like I was alive again. Don’t get me wrong I loved my life with Noah, my work and everything, but this felt like the missing piece.

While I was changing into my clothes after today’s class, our teacher Molly came to talk to me.

“Listen Y/N, I know you said you have bad experience and memories with professional ballet, but we have few spots open in our semi professional group and I thought you’d be great candidate. I see you’re learning faster than anyone in your class and I’m scared you would get bored after a while. There will be auditions, but I can get a word in for you and see if you could skip them. Just think about it and let me know as soon as you decide please.”

That night I came running home to share that news with Noah.

“WHERE ARE YOU?” I screamed just seconds after I opened the door.

“Studio.”

When I opened the door Noah turned in his chair to face me.

“Did I do something?” he looked scared.

“What?”

“Why are you screaming and running, I’m scared I did something.” You let out a chuckle at his words.

“No, but I got news. Great news.”

“Let me hear them.” I walked over to him and sat in his lap.

“I just got offered a place in semi professional group at the studio. Without auditions, Molly wants me there.”

“Honey that’s great news! That’s amazing news!” he stood up with me in his arms and spined us around.

“So you think I should accept that offer?”

“You haven’t already?”

“No, I wanted to think about it.”

“Judging by your reaction, there’s nothing to think about.” He smiled into our kiss.

“I guess I’m back on track then.” I kissed him back.

Long story short, I accepted Molly’s offer and started with my new group. I had classes 4 times a week, which was bit hard to get used to, but after while it was okay.

Noah left for tour, so at least I got something to do with my free time.

Noah leaving was also good for another reason. There is time difference between us, so we usually text each other or have short calls, so my worries are easy to hide.

Last week Molly told us that our group will be playing Swan Lake few months from now on, which brought back some memories. Semi professional groups still play in midsized theatre, I joined them when there wasn’t any, so I expected some play to come soon, but not this one.

I had mixed feelings about it, thinking if I want to play or if I just pass this one. Applications are closing in three days and I still haven’t applied for any role, which was weird for Molly.

She asked me about it after last class, so I told her about my ballet history, how Swan Lake basically ruined it for me. Molly is very positive person, so she told me something that got stuck in my head. She said I could take it as an opportunity and change Swan Lake from something bad to something really good in my life.

Truth is, I am thinking about applying for Odette/Odile, but I haven’t told anyone yet.

“Okay that’s enough love, what is going on?” Noah asked through the phone and I saw his forehead wrinkles were making his worried face. It’s scary how well he knows me, but with tomorrow being the last day for applications I needed to tell him.

“Our group is going to play Swan Lake in a few months and I don’t know if I should apply or not. It’s the play that made me quit.”

“Looks like it’s your second chance to make the best out of it. Listen, you were worried about even getting into ballet again and look at you now! I know you’re worried now, but wouldn’t you regret not even trying it?” I felt like I was on the phone with Molly right now.

“I know, I was thinking about applying for the lead role, I did it back then too. But maybe I should do other role?”

“Oh no love, if anyone is supposed to be the lead role in this play, it’s you.”

“You have to say this, you’re my boyfriend Noah.”

“Well wouldn’t you be the same if I was in your position? That’s what you do for your partner. You know how many songs would be forgotten and never released if you didn’t support me? There is lot of them I thought weren’t good enough, but you made me finish them. I may don’t understand ballet, but I understand you and I know you would regret not applying. So you get your ass up right now and fill what ever you need to fill and send it to Molly or I’m going to do it.”

And he was right, I would regret it. But I still couldn’t believe myself when I saw ‘send’ on my screen after I applied for Odette/Odile.

Molly informed me that me and 5 other girls applied for the same role, so there will be two rounds of auditions, first one starting on Monday, which gives me 6 days to prepare for it. Noah is also coming back home on Monday, so I’m happy I will share the outcome with him. Either we will celebrate or he will make me his comfort food and I’m happy with both options.

I spend the last 6 days going over the choreography for the first round of auditions. Everyday after work I went straight home and practiced. Last night I didn’t get a chance to talk with Noah, because he was already on his way back to the states. I at least talked to my mom this morning.

“Y/N you’re next.” I heard Molly from the ballet room.

“I’m homeee.” I heard Noahs voice that I missed so much. I left the pans on low heat and left kitchen to meet Noah in the living room.

I didn’t waste any time and went straight in for a kiss.

“Missed me much?” he managed to say between our kisses.

“Very much.” I looked at his face, tired face, and held it in my hands “Hi love.”

“Hi.” He leaned his forehead against mine as we enjoyed bit of silence and each other’s presence after month and two weeks apart.

“How was the flight?” I broke the silence, took his hand and led him into our kitchen to finish dinner.

“It was okay. I slept most of the time, but I’m still very tired. And I need a shower.”

“You can go take a shower now, it will take few more minutes until it’s done.” I pointed to the food.

“Okay.” Noah got up, left kiss on my nose and went to get shower. That’s what I thought at least. On his way to our bathroom, he realized I didn’t tell him about the audition.

“Y/N? Wasn’t the audition today?” it was, but I wanted to tell him about the result over dinner.

“It was, but I wanted to tell you later.” I tried to hide the smile on my face.

“You got through to the second audition, didn’t you?” he caught your smile and immediately knew the answer. “I guess we can celebrate right now in the shower huh? Are you going to join me?”

“So girls, I want to thank you for participating in this audition. It was hard to decide, but in the end, we agreed on one name. And it’s you, Y/N. We were amazed by your performance and we feel like your experience with this play could help us to make the best of it. Congratulations!” Molly gave me a hug and whispered in my ear that she knew it was going to be me from the beginning.

Noah and my mom said the same. My mom made sure she put date of the premiere in hers and dad’s calendar so they wouldn’t miss it. Noah also made sure to clear that day months in advance and welcomed me home with a flower and dinner as a celebration.

Breathe in, breathe out. And repeat. I stood in backstage already in my costume. I saw Noah and my parents in the first row as the rest of the room filled with strangers. Strangers that are going to be watching me in a few minutes.

“Are you ready Y/N? How are you feeling?” I felt Molly’s hand on my shoulder.

“I’m nervous, but also excited. I haven’t preformed for over decade, so I hope I don’t panic.”

“You’ll be great. We did lot of work, all of you will do great tonight.”

She then went to talk to other girls and I felt my phone buzz in my hand. It was Noah.

“Don’t be nervous, we’re very excited to see you shine tonight. You’ll kill it babe, I love you.” Oh my sweet Noah. Supportive as always.

I stood still in my pose as the curtain was closing. I let out a big breath I didn’t even realised I was holding in when the curtain was fully closed. I turned around to see my friends and in that moment we realized we just finished our premiere of the Swan Lake. And it was perfect. We did group hug, with Molly joining us. It was completely different than 10 years ago. This night was full of support and love.

I went to change into my normal clothes and then to meet Noah and my parents.

My dad and Noah both had bouquets in their hands and my mom had tears in her eyes. She was also the first one to pull me into a hug.

“I’m so proud of you Y/N, you can’t even imagine. You grew up into a beautiful woman and you just showed me how strong you are.”

“Thank you, mom, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Then it was my dad who pulled me into strong hug. My dad didn’t show emotions a lot, so I appreciated him coming tonight.

I really wanted to literally jump into Noah’s arms, but I kept calm in front of my parents. They said their goodbyes and left, because they have long road ahead of them.

As soon as they left the parking lot I turned to Noah and attacked him with hugs and kisses.

“Slow down baby, let me congratulate you and give you this beautiful flower.” It really was beautiful bouquet. Noah always got me beautiful flowers.

“How was it? Did you like it?” I was interested in Noah’s opinion, because it was his first ballet play he saw.

“It was beautiful! You were amazing! I know you can stretch your legs right, but I didn’t know you can stretch them like this.” I didn’t know if I should slap his arm for his stupid comment or laugh at him as he was trying to show me what he meant and trying to do the pose he was referring to.

“Okay ballerina I get it!” I laugh and stopped him from what he was doing before he got himself injured.

“Do you want to go out for dinner and drinks? Or go home and order something? You must be hungry.” We intertwined our hands and Noah led me to his car. He was right, I didn’t eat much today, because of the nerves.

“I think I want to go home, order something to eat, have a glass of wine, have hot bubble bath and then my back could use a massage…”

“I will give you massage only if you let me join you in the bath.” Of course he wouldn’t miss that chance.

“Deal. Let’s get home.” Noah started his car and took my hand in his.

“I love you and I’m so proud of you. I’m getting tickets to every show and I’m making the guys come with me.”

“Okay.” I laughed, but I knew he was serious. I’m sure that at the next show I’m going to see the core of BO crew in the front row.

“But I’m serious, I love you.”

“I love you too Noah, thank you for being by my side for all of this.”

“Always.”

#noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian band #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian imagine #noahsebastian #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens cult #bad omens imagine

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