#then i had a meeting with my business partner and our workers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beginningofwonderland · 6 months

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Stay Focused - San

Pairing: university student y/n x office worker San

Genre: smut with plot (MINORS DNI!)

Word Count: 12.5k (I don't know what happened)

Summary: Your mother insists on getting you a tutor for your studies. You want to resist until you meet Choi San, your tutor. His sweet talk and good looks make you focus on anything but your studies and you do everything to finally catch his attention in the same way.

Warnings: San is a few years older (5 to be exact), some nipple play, fingering, some orgasm denial, lots of dirty talk, blowjob (face-fucking leaning), protected sex, mirror sex

The reader in this is so horny omg. Just straight up trash for San (relatable). Also very long build-up.

"Good is not enough in this family," your mother repeats to you for what feels like the 100th time. „Your grades have to be exceptional if you want to work in my business."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you change your phone to the other hand to stir your pasta around. You just told her about your recent test results which of course are not satisfactory to her.

The problem is that you are actually doing pretty good. You never missed or failed a class, you passed all your courses with at least a good score and you had even fulfilled additional classes to broaden the spectrum of your studies. But just like she said: Good is not enough for her. She won't shut up about your grades until you reach 100% in all of your classes - which is basically impossible, especially in your field of study.

"Do you even still want to work in the family business?" your mother asks you provokingly. And the problem is, you do. You really do. Your mother is the CEO of a big pharmacy company and ever since you were a kid you followed her interest in chemistry. You even chose your pharmacy major without her influence. But now that you are taking the same path as her, she is all in your business about being the perfect little mini-her.

"I do, mom. I'm working hard on it, I promise. The next exam is in four weeks and I already started studying."

She makes a huffing sound before answering you: "You said that the last three times as well and still didn't get a full score. You should really get a tutor."

"Mom! I'm the best in my class. Why should I get a tutor? I'm doing great!" You are glad you're only talking to her on the phone so that she doesn't see the way your hands clasps over your face. She can't be serious with you. Getting a tutor with your grades is just embarrassing.

"But not great enough. You know what? The son of a close business partner recently started working at the company. He graduated a few years ago with an honour's degree and seems to be a very promising young man. I'll ask him to tutor you."

Your cheeks start to heat up just at the thought of how embarrassing the whole thing will be for you. Getting a tutor that worked for your mother is literally the worst case scenario. You feel like a high school student that doesn't pay attention in school and now gets scolded for it.

"I do not need a tutor, mom." You state once again but her mind is already made up.

"I'll give him your number and he will contact you. And don't you dare be rude to him, his father is very important for our business!"

You can't believe her words. Since when have you ever been rude to anyone she introduced you to? Your mother ends the call before you can protest any more.

Angrily, you fish a single spaghetti out of your pot to taste it. It's perfectly cooked when you munch on it in annoyance.

--------------------------------

This is Choi San.

Your mother told me you needed tutoring on your pharmacy classes and gave me your schedule.

I can teach you Tuesday and Thursday afternoon from 6PM. Would that work for you?

You fall back onto bed with a frustrated groan as you read the messages. She really asked him. Now you have no choice but agree to him tutoring you because your mother would kill you otherwise.

Typing a reply you take a deep breath. This will be such a waste of time for the both of you.

Hello! Tuesdays and Thursdays are good. Thank you so much.

You hate how pathetic you sound. What are you even thanking him for? You don't want him to tutor you and he was definitely forced by your mother so why even play pretend?

No problem. We can use meeting room 117 at the company since I reserved it for us. I'll see you on Tuesday.

You dread Tuesday every single day from now on. When it finally arrives you feel ridiculous as you enter the large building of your mother's company. You have been here countless times but you never thought you would get tutor lessons here.

Even worse is that your mother made you go greet her beforehand. She specifically texted you to visit her office before the appointment with Mr. Choi. You walk past her assistant with a polite greeting and finally enter her office.

The luxurious room sat at the top floor of the building with a nice view over the city. Sometimes you forget how successful her company actually is. It can be quiet intimidating.

"There you are," she greets you with a mere look up from a bunch of files on her desk. "I hope you prepared well for your tutoring session. Please don't embarrass yourself in front of Mr. Choi. His father is an important business partner of mine and he himself seems to be a very promising employee. I don't want my own daughter to make him think worse of the company."

Of course she only worries about the company. The idea that this is incredibly humiliating for her own daughter does not even cross her mind.

"Hello, mom. Of course I prepared well, I always do. I won't disappoint you."

She nods at you, satisfied with your answer before looking at her watch. "Then you should head to the meeting room. He is always ridiculously early for meetings so he's probably waiting for you already."

Great, you think to yourself. You hoped you would be able to grab a coffee beforehand.

"I'll go right away. Bye, mom."

You walk to the elevator with heavy steps and check your own watch. It's still fifteen minutes until 6PM so there's plenty of time to grab a coffee before, no matter what your mother might say.

Entering the elevator you select the floor of the meeting room with the plan to walk to the coffee pantry first. Half-way down, the elevator stops on a different floor. When the doors open you almost choke on your polite "Hello" as your eyes take in the person in front of you.

Walking into the elevator is easily the most attractive man you have ever seen in your life. Dressed in a tight pair of dark pants and a perfectly fitted dress-shirt the handsome stranger repeats your greeting with a small bow and a mind-numbingly attractive smile. His eyes carry a little glimmer even behind the round pair of glasses he wears and as he pushes back his black hair you feel like swooning.

You have to keep yourself from staring when he takes his place in the elevator and both of you wait for it to move. Just now you realize he hasn't pushed a button, which means he is heading to the same floor as you. Out of the corner of your eyes you can't help but watch him.

He is a few inches taller than you but appears even bigger due to his broad frame. You wonder where that man even finds clothes that fit his stature with his broad shoulders and tiny waist. He checks his most definitely expensive wrist watch before looking at the display counting down the floors.

When the elevator doors open with a ding, you almost jolt. You were so caught up in thinking about how good he looks that you didn't even notice arriving on your floor. The handsome man gestures for you to step out first with another deadly smile in your direction.

"Thank you," you barely breath out as you step out of the elevator in front of him. It feels like the air outside is ten degrees colder. Without looking back you head to the pantry of the floor. You need a coffee even more than before now that you can only think of that guy from the elevator. There is no way you can concentrate on tutoring now without some caffeine.

The benefit of being the CEO's daughter is having a card with unlimited access to the coffee machines so you happily press the button for a black coffee. At the familiar buzzing sound you can finally relax and take a deep breath. No man has ever made you so flustered before just by existing. Maybe you should visit the office more often if that was the kind of employees your mother hired.

Taking your coffee into one hand and your study bag into the other you turn around to head to the meeting room. Caught up deeply in your thoughts you almost run head first into the person behind you.

"Woah, careful there. You don't want to spill that coffee do you?" his voice is smooth like honey, with a joking tone to it. You blink up at him a few times before you find your words.

"I'm sorry. I was distracted."

The man from the elevator smiles at you and you feel your body warming up from the inside out.

"Don't worry, nothing happened." He looks you up and down quickly before holding eye contact once again.

"Excuse the question, but do you happen to be director Kim's daughter?"

You stare at him in confusion. "Yes. Yes, I am. How did you know?"

He moves past you, grabbing a cup from the pantry himself and turning on the coffee machine before he answers:

"You share her eyes. But more importantly, your bag has a pin of the pharmacy faculty of the university and because I'm supposed to meet her daughter for tutoring on this floor in - " he checks his watch again: "exactly 12 minutes, I figured it might be you."

You are impressed. His looks are already enough to have your eyes turn into hearts but there is probably nothing that makes a man more attractive to you than his wit. But what hits you even more than that is the fact that THIS was your tutor.

I take everything back mom, I love tutoring. Sign me up for another year.

"Well, you figured correctly," you reply weakly, at a loss for words. "Nice to meet you Mr. Choi."

You put your cup on the pantry table to reach your hand out to him. He takes it with a smile.

"Nice to meet you too, Miss Kim. I was going to get the two of us some coffee but as I can see you already helped yourself."

Oh, so he's a gentleman as well.

"Next time you should let me take care of that," you said showing him your free access card. "I happen to own the key to infinite coffee."

"Does the caffeine addiction come for free with that as well?" You chuckle at his joke.

"I think it's the requirement to get it in the first place."

"Well then I will happily let you get us coffee next time."

Next time, you think. The reality that you will be seeing this man on a regular basis hits you.

For a second the two of you just smile at each other. Then Mr. Choi notices that his coffee is done and he grabs the cup.

"Let's head to the meeting room then. I wouldn't want to waste your time."

You sir, can waste my time any day of the week, you think to yourself but obviously keep silent as you follow him to the room.

He holds the door open for you and you settle down onto one of the meeting chairs. You always hated these things. They are designed to make you sit upright and therefore terribly uncomfortable. You desperately want to fold one of your legs under yourself like you always do at home but you have a good image to keep. After taking a seat across from you he puts his bag onto the table and looks at you expectantly.

"So what topics exactly are you struggling with? It's been a while for me but I'm sure I can help."

"To be honest with you, I don't really need help on anything."

San raises his eyebrows behind the round glasses on his nose. "What do you mean?"

You sigh, not knowing how to explain this dilemma best. "My mother made me get a tutor because she believes I need better grades. In fact I'm the best of my year with perfect attendance and an average of 95%. She says that everything under 100% is not enough which is why she must have thought of you as a tutor."

San just stares at you with a peculiar look on his face. He looks almost impressed from your words.

"I knew director Kim could be quite strict but I had never imagined that extent. I'm sorry she made you do this, a 95% average is very impressive in the pharmacy field."

"Says someone with a perfect 100% graduation," you snap back, a little more spiteful than you want to. But San doesn't seem to take it the wrong way. Instead he chuckles in response. The sound sends shivers down your spine, his voice dipping way lower than you had expected it could.

"Trust me, that wasn't all brains. I only know my way around people." You don't doubt that last statement for even a second.

"Maybe instead of teaching I can give you some tips around the university. That would probably help you more."

Now you are interested.

"What kind of tips for example?" You lean forward resting an elbow on the table as you pick your cup of coffee up for a sip. It's still burning hot but you pretend you didn't just burn your tongue as you set it back down.

"Does Mr. Han still do the medicine lectures? He's been using the same exam template for years. Pharmacy students are just to selfish to share the results with the younger students. I'll look for my old exams later to give them to you."

Your mouth opens in awe. Everyone from the year above had told you Mr Han's exams were the hardest and it turns out they were just lying to intimidate you. The competition was real.

"These fuckers," you mumble beneath your breath but judging by his chuckle, San heard you just fine.

"Sorry," you excuse your language immediately with a small nod. He is still an employee under your mother and she told you explicitly to act well around him. Hiding your uneasiness you go for another scolding sip of coffee.

"Don't worry, darling. I won't go complaining to your mother about your language. You don't need to be her perfect little girl for me."

You almost choke on your coffee and have to force the liquid down your throat with an effort. You really wish they didn't but his words made your insides squirm. The amount of money you'd pay him to call you 'darling' again is surely an embarrassing amount. But good little girl also didn't sound too bad from his mouth.

"Thanks," you mumble, not knowing what else to say and stare onto the table to hide your flushing face. If you look at him with those slutty, round glasses right now, you're sure you'll combust.

You don't notice, but Mr. Choi eyes you up and down carefully before he resumes speaking. He smiles at your flustered state that obviously doesn't escape his sharp senses. Seeing your pretty face flush from only these few words, satisfies him deeply.

"Then how about that toxicology class? If Mr. Lim still teaches it, I know a few ways to get on his good side. He always picks favourites and it shows in the grades."

Mr. Choi continues listing off ways to better your grades around your professors. You can't help but be impressed. Not only is he obviously very intelligent but also great with people. Maybe what kept you from exceeding in your studies was your rather reserved nature in class.

"How about this," Mr. Choi finally proposes after teaching you some of his ways. "I'll get you my old notes and exams and with that you will surely ace all your tests. Then we can meet up for these tutoring sessions and while you study in peace I can get some work done. This way your mother is happy and we both profit from the situation."

You nod without hesitation. "That sounds like a great idea. Thank you so much, Mr. Choi."

He groans at your words, a sound that makes you react in a way you don't even want to put into words.

"Please don't call me Mr. Choi when we're alone that makes me feel terribly old. My name is San."

"Aren't you older than me though?" you ask back carefully. It doesn't feel right to call him by his first name.

"If 5 years are old to you?" he inquires with a slight teasing edge to his voice. You don't know if he's flirting with you or if you are just becoming a witness to this man's effortless social skills.

Truthfully, you are 22 and 5 years more don't seem that much to you. Still his way with words and the confident aura around him make him seem more mature.

"I didn't say old. Just older."

He rolls his eyes at your stubbornness, leisurely resting one of his elbows on the backrest behind him. "Just call me San, darling."

There it is again. That word single-handedly turns you into a blushing mess within seconds and you find yourself agreeing without another thought.

"Okay, San."

A satisfied smile spreads on his face and you marvel at the dimples that form on his cheeks. "Much better. Than how about you do some studying and I'll get some work done now?"

"Sounds good," you reply and start taking out your classwork. He could've told you to start stripping right now and you would've agreed without question. Damn you are down bad for him already...

It is a weird situation at first. You are used to studying around strangers in the library, but sitting alone in a room with San makes it hard to focus on your upcoming test. His eyes keep flicking from his work laptop across to you and you don't know if he's interest in the topic you're studying or you.

You yourself on the other hand are surely interested in him and you can't help but steal a few glances at him working diligently at his laptop every now and then. Even typing on his keyboard looks ridiculously hot on him with the way his slender fingers run over the keys.

After about two hours of you trying to keep your eyes on your notes San finally closes his laptop and stares at you until you reciprocate his look.

"I guess two hours is enough to make your mother think you studied, right?" he asks with one corner of his mouth slightly lifted.

"Sure," you respond weakly.

"I'll look for my old tests and will bring them on Thursday," he goes on as he stands up to pack up his laptop and bag. You also start gathering your study books.

"Thank you again," you answer lamely. But the promise of already seeing him again on Thursday excites you.

When you proceed to grab your now empty coffee cup his hands react quickly as he snatches it from you.

"Don't worry about that, I'll put those away," he's leaning over the table now, smiling at you through slightly closed eyes and you can't help but be entranced by his looks. "You should make sure to get home before it's dark outside. Want you to get home safely."

"Don't worry about me, I'll manage."

"Oh but I won't if something happens to you and your mother finds out you were last seen with me," he replies cockily as you two finally go to the door.

You have to chuckle at his remark. "Good to know I'm not the only one terrified of her."

"Everyone is terrified of her," he mumbles under his breath but you are already reaching the coffee pantry - aka your cue to go home.

"Can we use the same room on Thursday?" you ask as you stop in front of him. You make sure to brush your hair behind your ear in a nonchalant manner, knowing it shows your good angles.

"Yeah, I already booked it," San replies easily, eyes fixing yours from above. "But let's meet at the coffee machine here. I want to at least take advantage of that free coffee if I give you all my study secrets."

He winks at you at the last part of the sentence and it makes your insides twirl like on a rollercoaster. You give him a small smile through fluttering lashes. "So that's what you meant with a win-win situation: Endless coffee. Well it looks like I don't have a choice but to be your personal coffee machine."

You want to punch yourself right after that sentence leaves your mouth. How much more stupid could you possibly sound? Personal coffee machine. Saying you wanted to be his personal slut would have been less embarrassing.

But San doesn't seem to mind your awkward response. "Sounds good to me," he replies smoothly. "Then have a good ride home and I'll see you on Thursday."

"Until Thursday," you reply before you can say something stupid again and stroll off to the elevator with a small wave.

As soon as the doors close behind you, your head thumps against the steel wall. There is no way you will get any studying done with that man in the same room as you.

---------------------

Your next few meetings with San go on smoothly. You are always on time but he is still earlier than you, waiting for you at the coffee machine. You get both of you a coffee - sometimes two if you feel like it - and you two get to work in a comfortable silence sitting opposite to each other in the meeting room.

After San brought you his old exams you can now prepare exactly what you need to know for your next tests. But no matter how hard you try to focus on your studies, your eyes keep wandering from your books up to the handsome man working on his laptop.

You soon notice his seemingly endless closet full of tailored dressing shirts and perfectly matching pants. He always looks immaculate, not a single wrinkle on his shirt and his hair always neatly combed back. Even his skin is flawless to the point that you start questioning if Choi San might be a figment of your imagination.

Just like his outer appearance, his manners are immaculate. Like you already noticed on your first meeting, he is a sweet talker. Always knowing the right thing to say and never letting your conversation end in awkwardness.

Whenever he feels like taking a break you notice him starting to talk to you. At first he asks how your studies are going. Then he wanders off to the professors you two shared and how he managed to ace all his classes.

Your whole attention is glued to his lips. For one thing because the information he can provide you with is crucial to your academic development but much more importantly because his lips are the prettiest thing you have ever seen. They look so plump and smooth while he's talking that your mind can't help but wander to the other things he might be able to do with them besides talking.

If at your first meeting you were down bad for Choi San, one month later you felt like you were drowning and he was the last bit of oxygen left on earth. You wanted him with a passion that you didn't even know you were capable of.

But you couldn't have him. There was too much at stake. He still worked for your mother and if you made a move on him that he wouldn't reciprocate you would risk the eternal hate of the only woman that still held control over your life. And so far San hadn't shown any sign of feeling the same way about you that you did for him.

„You're stuck on that?" San suddenly asks you over the page of biochemistry that you've been staring at for a solid five minutes. You haven't spared a single thought on the topic in front of you. Your mind is only occupied by the thought of San leaning over you on the meeting chair, your chin in between his slender fingers as he smirks down at you. You hate him for having this effect on you when you so desperately need to focus on your studies.

You really need to get your thoughts together.

„Oh no I was just getting carried away," you answer, looking at him pointedly with a sly smile.

You tried little attacks like this on him before. A casual pull down of your shirt, stretching your arms to make it ride up over your stomach or even looking directly at his lips as he spoke. But no matter how daring you get you can never catch San slipping.

His eyes stay on yours only whenever he looks at you, his tone is always polite and never goes farther than a casual joke. You simply can't draw a single reaction from him and it drives you insane.

„Do you need a small break? We could get another coffee," he offers helpfully.

I don't want a damn coffee I want you to fuck me on this meeting table.

"I'd love to, but I'm already way too warm today. I fear the AC can't fight against the heat anymore."

It has gotten exponentially hotter over the past days and you can feel it even inside the modern building.

"You're right, it's quite hot in here," San says with a disappointed face. "What a shame we don't have iced coffee. We should get some on Tuesday!"

His eyes light up in excitement and this little sliver of pure happiness doesn't escape you. It's surprising how cute he can be with that shamelessly hot body of his.

"Do you know a place near?" You ask to drag on the conversation. You yourself know at least 3 cafés in the area that sell iced coffee but you want San to tell you a place. Maybe his favourite. So that you can go and think of him.

"Yes, I can show you!" he answers proudly.

"I'd love to." You send him a gentle smile with long eye contact before both of you look back at your work.

But your concentration withers away like the dying plant in the corner of the room when Choi San begins undoing the buttons of his shirt sleeves.

You know you shouldn't but your eyes immediately watch as his slender fingers start neatly folding up his sleeves. The muscles in his underarms dance beneath his skin as inch after inch of skin gets revealed.

You feel like a medieval man salivating over exposed ankles as you stare at San's arms. The veins are protruding in the heat and his honey skin is glistening under the bland neon lights.

Your heartbeat quickens and it's mostly because it feels like you finally found San slipping. Him rolling up his sleeves is like a crack in his perfect mask and you are certain that he wouldn't do it anywhere else in the company. He only does this because he is with you.

"Shoot," he suddenly exclaims and draws your attention up to his face. You catch the small pout that appears on his lips before he looks back at you.

"What is it?" you ask him.

"I forgot to book the meeting room for Tuesday and now everything is blocked. There is a work event next week. I should've booked it earlier."

"Oh," you simply reply. This is even more confusing. You don't believe that San would ever forget such an important event. Is he trying to get rid of you?

"Don't worry about it, darling." His smirk and the nickname has you fighting for air. "I'll find us something else."

You can only nod at him with a smile. Maybe he isn't trying to get rid of you.

The rest of your study/work time flies by as your mind thinks of all the possible meeting places you and San could have for Tuesday. You feel like a highschool girl dreaming about dates with your crush but you don't care. The man that is supposed to be tutoring you just makes your heart speed up in a way that you haven't experienced ever before.

When your meeting time comes to an end and San starts packing up his stuff he simply says: "How about we meet at my place next time? I don't like working in cafés it's always so crowded and noisy. And I have coffee too."

You snap up at him in surprise at the proposal. "Sure," you reply as nonchalantly as you can at the prospect of going to Choi San's apartment. Alone. With him.

"I can pick you up here with my car after work. So you don't have any extra way."

"That sounds good," you reply with a small smile, trying not to sound too excited.

"Then until next week," he says with one of his handsome smiles and you say your goodbyes before you can turn even redder in his presence.

When you walk onto the elevator this time and the door closes behind you, your heart is pounding into your throat. As the realization sets in that you will be alone with Choi San in his apartment a satisfied smile set over your face. Oh you will use that chance for sure.

----------------------

You spend the entire day preparing for your tutor appointment with San. Something deep inside you tells you that this behaviour is ridiculous but you push this inner voice back down as you play your favourite music and get ready.

You wear your hair in light waves and put on makeup to bring out your eyes but not look overly done up. Your outfit was a tricky matter but you settled on a classic pleated skirt and a tight long-sleeve. Everything about your appearance today lands on the thin line between innocent and suggestive and you are satisfied when you twirl around in front of the mirror.

All you want is one small reaction out of the man that you have thirsted for over the past weeks. If Choi San even so much as lets his eyes scan you up and down, your mission would be successful. Lost in your task of getting ready you almost forget to actually pack your study books before heading to your mothers company.

You two agreed on San picking you up at the company's garage. So you are taking down the elevator to the parking floor and checking yourself one last time in your phone camera before stepping into the parking lot.

Having no idea how his car looks like you pull up your chat with San, wanting to ask him where to go. But before you can type your message a calm voice calls you over from across the parking lot.

"Y/n!"

You turn around to a sight that makes your heart flutter. San is leaning onto his car, a chic black Mercedes. His white dress shirt has one button unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up again. His feet are crossed over each other leisurely as he waits for you to come over.

Walking up to him you have to try real hard to look casual and not like your nerves are taking over you with the impending situation of being in the same car as San for an undefined amount of time. Your heart is beating already and he hasn't even called you any nicknames yet.

"Hello, San. You're not wearing glasses today?" you notice in surprise and hope it doesn't come off as too attentive.

"Sometimes I wear contacts," he replies smoothly. "It's a styling decision."

While you love the glasses on San seeing him without has a different charm to it. Almost like he is showing you a different side of him.

"Ready to go?" you ask him to keep the conversation going and you're almost proud of your nonchalant tone.

"Ready when you are," he replies with a light smile and walks around the car to open the door for you.

Of course he opens the door for me.

Before you can get in he also takes your bag from you to store it in the back. You want to refuse but one of his smiles finally makes you give in and you hand him the bag. Finally, you thank him and sit down in the passenger seat. The car looks even nicer on the inside: leather seats and perfectly clean. Something inside you starts questioning where this man hides his flaws since noone can possibly be this perfect at all times.

"It's only a 20 minute drive," San explains as he gets into the driver's seat and turns on the engine. You can't help but watch his hands as he manages the gearshift. But as he turns around to look for obstacles his eyes get stuck on you. For a second you think you got him. That his eyes linger on you for a little too long because you finally pulled a reaction out of him.

"You haven't even put your seatbelt on, darling."

And with that your mind is blank. Simple emptiness.

Before you can react, his hand reaches past you, grabbing the seatbelt and plugging it in. His hand doesn't so much as grace your shoulder for a millisecond but you feel like your lungs are constricting.

"Thanks," you breath out before he finally pulls out of the parking spot. He does that wildly attractive thing where he put his hand on the back of the passenger's seat while driving backwards and you feel like losing it already. How will you survive being in the same apartment with this man. San however seems his usual chatty self.

"I'm sorry again for not booking the meeting room in time. I already reserved it for the weeks to come," he starts talking to you.

"Don't worry. I totally don't mind," you answer and regret it immediately. Did that sound too eager? Something about Sam's presence makes you overthink every single word you say.

"I have a fancy coffee machine at home so I can at least return the favour of you getting me coffee all the time."

You smile at that. It feels like this little inside thing between you two how you always use your company privileges to pay for both of your coffee. San thanks you every single time, bringing up how much you save his day.

"I never thought you were that much of a coffee guy at home too," you say trying to get him to tell you more about himself.

"You're acting like I didn't go through pharmacy as well!" He replies with a slightly sulky tone. "No way to survive that major without getting addicted to coffee."

You chuckle at his response. "That's true unfortunately. So you just carried the addiction into your job?"

"You could state it like that but by buying a fancy machine you can just say that coffee is your hobby instead."

Whenever you two talk about mundane topics like this you can't help but be glued to his lips. To get a glimpse of the Choi San that isn't working over-hours all the time and kept up his perfect image at all costs. You want to find out the details about him. Like how he enjoys his coffee or what colour he might like best.

You continue the drive in casual chatter like this before finally reaching your destination. As San pulls into an underground parking lot of an apartment building your heart rate quickens again. Something about seeing his apartment makes you incredibly nervous.

He tells you to wait inside the car after he lets the motor die down so that he can open the door for you again. Even this small gesture has you wrapped around his finger and you smile as you try to step out of the car as gracefully as you can.

San leads you into an elevator and as soon as the doors close you feel reminded of your first meeting. Of how he took your breath away just by standing next to you in such a small space. And now there isn't much difference. He still makes you just as nervous. But at least you can talk to him now.

"How is studying for your exams going so far?" He asks casually.

"It's okay," you reply lamely. "I'm trying my best."

"You know if you actually do need my help you can obviously ask me," he offers alluding to your deal of him basically just getting his own work done instead of tutoring you.

"You've already helped me so much. All I need to do now is actually study," you say turning down his argument.

You idiot, you think to yourself. You could've at least pretended to need his help.

You wait in silence as the remaining floors rush past you. You're surprised with every passing number, wondering what floor San might be living on. But the elevator doesn't stop until the highest floor.

San let's you exit first which makes no sense to you since you don't know where to go. So you wait for him to show you the way to his apartment.

As soon as he unlocks the door and leads you two inside you curiously scan his place. On a first glance it looks almost exactly like you expected: it's very clean and tidy, the furniture is modern and rather minimalistic and the whole place carries a simple colour theme of black and chrome with only hints of colour. The entrance leads straight into an open living room that connects to the kitchen.

"Make yourself at home at the dinner table," San offers while gesturing at the big, black table that looks like straight out of a design magazine.

You both place your shoes neatly at the entrance of his apartment before you take your bag to the table. As you choose a seat from which you can look outside the gigantic window front, San heads over to the kitchen, getting something from a cupboard.

"Can I get you a glass of water before I make some coffee?" He asks you with a kind smile.

"That would be nice," you answer even though water was not what you were craving right now.

He filled one for you and brought it over before returning to the kitchen. "You want your coffee hot or iced?"

"Iced? This is better service than at the company. You should forget to book the meeting room more often." It's a weak attempt at flirting with him but he laughs non the less.

"So iced it is?" He confirms with you again and turns on his electric coffee grinder after you nod approvingly.

It shouldn't captivate you that much, looking at him while he was performing such a basic task as making coffee. But you could watch him for hours, the way his broad back stretches out his dress shirt. The way he moves around so smoothly. The way the muscles in his arms flex as he handles his espresso machine.

You turn towards your study materials just in time before he faces you again, two iced coffees in his hands. He places one gently in front of you before he sits down opposite of you.

"Thank you," you smile at him extra sweetly.

"Anything you want, darling."

You swear to yourself that if he calls you darling one more time you will throw all rational thoughts out of the window and straddle him right here in his stupid designer living room chair. But for now you settle for a coy smile as you feel your cheeks heat up.

To add to your demise, as San drags his chair closer to the table both of your knees touch for a brief second before he casually changes his seating position. The table is narrower than the one in the meeting room and knowing that your legs are mere inches from another makes you even more delusional. What if he did that on purpose?

After that, all concentration for your studies is far gone. It doesn't help at all that the iced coffee he made you was the best you had in ages and with every sip you keep wondering what Choi San isn't good at.

I just know he fucks good there's no other way, you think to yourself but get interrupted in your thoughts.

"Are you stuck on something?" San asks you and you almost don't even dare to raise your eyes to look at him. A kind of shame overcomes you as you realize what you have been thinking about while he worries about your studies.

You sigh to buy yourself time to find an answer that doesn't include: Yes, I'm stuck because I can't think of anything but your body on top of mine.

"Yeah, I just can't seem to concentrate well lately. Maybe I'm stressed out because of my finals."

It isn't fully a lie. Your finals are approaching steadily and with you thirsting over your tutor instead of studying you are indeed starting to worry.

"I would love to tell you that grades don't matter too much but I know your mother won't agree and I will probably face her anger too if you fail," he laughs at the end of his sentence to lighten the mood but quickly notices he only stressed you more by saying that.

"I'm sorry," he quickly retracts. It feels like the first time you caught him messing up his smooth way of talking which in return makes you smile.

"No, you're right. I just never thought about the fact that she will hate both of us if I mess up. What a way to relax."

"I shouldn't have said that," San again apologizes. "I'm sure you will do amazing though. After all you studied so much."

He finishes his sentence with a wink and you must stare at him for a second like an idiot. Did you just imagine that? Or is he alluding to something? Does Choi San know that you thirsted for him this entire fucking time?

But his further actions don't allow you to think much more.

"You look quite tense actually," he continues. "You know it's not good for your back to sit stiff like this for a prolonged amount of time. Your neck must be hurting?"

You have no idea what he is talking about. And your confusion only grows as San gets up from his chair heading in your direction. Every step he comes closer to you has your heart pumping erratically. Even though you dreamed about him being closer to you and finally paying you more attention you are now paralysed at the situation unfolding. Simply being close to him renders your entire body useless.

San steps behind you and, to your absolute shock and amazement, his hands gently grasp your shoulders.

"To compensate the stress from university I took a physiology course that taught us how to massage tense muscles."

As if to proof his words his thumbs gently start rubbing circles into your neck. The warmth of his fingers seeps through your thin shirt and fills your entire body. It feels like he set you on fire with this simple touch.

All of this cannot be real. This must be a figment of your imagination or you actually fell asleep on your study notes while dreaming about San. But his voice sounds very much real when he resumes:

"You have to relax, otherwise I'll hurt you." His voice drops lower than usual and as he gently drapes your hair over one shoulder to get it out of his way you can feel his breath fanning over your neck. Goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

But amid the fire burning in your veins and your clouded mind you actually manage to ease into his fingers and allow him to loosen up your muscles.

"That's a good girl," he rasps behind you and you know you tipped over the edge now. There is no going back from this. You feel like a doll in his hands. His words are electrifying, leaving you unable to utter a single word, to make a single sound. Your mind is running on a state of emergency. Nothing seems to get to you but the fact that San is touching you.

And oh is he good at it. His hands are pressing into all the right places relieving all the pent up tension you built ever since getting ready for this meeting today. If his fingers are already this good at massaging out your stress you can't help but think about what else they can do.

"How do you feel?" He asks. His voice is still low and his tone taunting, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Better," you answer. Your voice is merely a whisper. You sound weak, even in your own ears, and wonder if he even heard you.

"Yeah? Then how is this?" With his question his thumbs dip beneath the collar of your shirt and massage your upper back a little lower.

You can't help but close your eyes. The low tone of his voice, his fingers on your skin and the playfulness of his words. All of this is so overwhelming you can only lean back and revel in his touch.

"It feels so good," you manage to breath out when you realize he asked you a question.

He bends down a little, his mouth now right next to your ear. "Should I make you feel even better?"

He is quite literally the devil on your shoulder. Everything in your body screams for you to say yes immediately. The unspoken promise has your entire body on fire and you almost give in to your desire. But a tiny speck of reasonable thinking pulls you back into the dangerous territories you are moving in right now.

"What do you mean?" you ask carefully. You know that this is everything you wanted for the past few weeks but still you can't help being confused about his sudden change.

His left hand wanders from your back to your chin, tilting it to the side so you can look at him. The look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine. His pupils are dilated and he is looking at you like he is preying on you. The intensity is something you have never seen in him before.

"You are far too smart to be asking that question, darling," he replies smugly.

"But you were never interested in me?" You ask back and want to hit yourself on the spot. Why are you even asking questions when the man you've desired for weeks finally seems to be making a move on you? But after all he is acting very out of character.

San chuckles, never taking his eyes off of you. "You're so cute. All these weeks that you've been wanting me and now you ask what I'm doing?"

Your mouth opens in shock. So he did in fact know all this time that you were interested in him.

"Don't act all surprised now, darling. You really thought I didn't see the way you looked at me ever since we first met? How your eyes keep focusing on my arms in my tight shirts. How you steal glances at me when you think I'm not looking? I wanted to see how long I could leave you thirsting like this before you would break."

His confession has you gasping as you realize you weren't even faintly as indiscreet as you thought you were. Instead San was playing with you the entire time. Watching your every move.

"Desperation looks so cute on you," he adds with another devilish smile. His fingers continue drawing circles into your back as his burning eyes keep you fixed in your spot. You feel bewitched by his entire presence, like he has cast a spell on you.

"I made all this effort to get you into my apartment so we both don't have to risk our lives by having me ruin you on the meeting table and still you didn't even have a clue. I'm almost disappointed if you weren't so cute when you are surprised like this." A satisfied grin plays around his plump lips, as if he revelling in the taste of this sweet opportunity in his hands. "Now be a good girl for me and finally do what you've been wanting to do for weeks. Tell me you want me."

You haven't taken a single breath since he started talking and as a result your head feels dizzy. It takes a short moment before you can finally form the words that your head is screaming at you.

"Please," you whisper pathetically.

"Please what, darling?" San revels in the way you can barely speak.

"Please ruin me."

You can basically see the fire behind his eyes ignite as you speak those three words. His hand wanders to your cheek, grabbing it firmly. He takes his sweet time to let his thumb run over your bottom lip, eyes trailing after his own movement.

"With pleasure."

Finally, his lips press onto yours in a desperate kiss. They feel just as soft as they always looked to you, but he kisses you with a roughness that is almost contradictory. The combination is intoxicating. As you reciprocate the kiss, heat runs through your limbs in shockwaves.

Suddenly impatient, San interrupts the kiss to pull you up and out of the chair by your arms. Grabbing your waist he manhandles you onto the dinner table instead, lifting you onto the ledge as if it was nothing.

Your hands bury in his hair as both your lips meet again in a rushed embrace. In return, San wedges one of his legs between yours and spreads your knees so he can stand between them. The way he handles you makes heat pool in your core. San has a determination to his every move that makes you want to do whatever he could want from you.

One of his hands still tightly grasping your waist, the other winds in your hair as he deepens the kiss. When his tongue enters your mouth you arch your back wanting to diminish every centimetre between you two. Your head is dizzy, completely overwhelmed by his every touch.

San's firm hands are restless on your heated body. His fingers quickly find a way to shift under your shirt and his thumb draws circles into the bare skin of your stomach. Choi San feels like a drug. His touch just as intoxicating as you always dreamed it to be.

He removes his mouth from your lips only to latch onto the fragile skin behind your ears, kissing his way around your neck. You let your head fall back to give him better access and when he starts sucking on your skin you relieve a small whimper.

You can feel San smirking into your skin as he sucks even more. It's like he has found your weakness and is now shamelessly using it to make you melt beneath his fingers. And it's working so well. Your hands lose grip on his hair as you lose your ability to focus on anything but San's lips on your neck.

"Don't tap out on me already, darling. I'm only getting started," he rasps into your ear in between kisses. You draw in a shaky breath at his words. Your legs feel like jelly even as your sitting down and you just know you won't be able to walk after San is finished with you.

He finally withdraws his lips and for a second just revels in your already dishevelled form: hair messy, red flush to your cheeks and lips glossy from kissing him.

"I'd love to have you on my dinner table but let's take this somewhere more comfortable for now," he says in a soft voice.

Hooking his hands under your thighs he picks you up from the table, carrying you towards his bedroom. Woken up from your trance by the change of motion you suddenly gain back some of your bite. While San is busied with carrying you, your fingers rush to the collar of his dress shirt. Oh how often you have dreamed of popping open those buttons one by one. And finally you have the pleasure to do so. A soft chuckle makes his chest move in front of you as San looks down on your actions.

"You couldn't wait, could you?"

"Why would I?" you reply cheekily as your hand smooths over his now exposed skin. He feels so soft and hot under your fingertips that you don't think you'll ever be able to detach.

San throws open his bedroom door with his shoulder and before you have a chance to take in the room you are thrown onto the plush bed. He follows behind immediately, hovering over you with both hands propped up next to your head. He lets his eyes run over your figure lazily, up and down.

"Don't even know where to start with you," he mumbles half to himself and half to you as he watches your chest rise and fall in heavy breaths. He decides to put on a show, sitting back on his heels and slowly continuing your work in unbuttoning his shirt.

Apart from his skin being exposed the simple act of opening some buttons shouldn't drive you as crazy as it does right now. It's simply the sexiest thing you have ever seen in your life. The way his hooded eyes stay on yours the entire time while one button after another falls open under his practiced movements.

You are moving on autopilot when you also sit up to take off your own shirt. You simply can't delay this any further. As your shirt lands somewhere beside the bed, San lets out a small groan, surprising you. He stopped in the middle of folding down his sleeves.

"How did you know that purple was my favourite colour?" He asks in a raspy voice. His eyes are raking over your deep purple bra with a desire in them that lets shivers run over your skin.

You can't imagine a better way to find out his favourite colour. You only chose it because it accentuates your skin tone but now it feels like fate to you. Finally, you are getting to the edges of Choi San. Getting to know him on a level that you were craving like the air you needed to breath.

"Good intuition," you reply. Your confidence surges under his heavy glances. Maybe a little too much. "Need help with that?" you ask him teasingly with a nod towards his shirt, which hangs open around his toned torso.

As soon as you speak those words you are getting pinned back to the bed, San's hand suddenly wrapped around your neck. He isn't putting any pressure on it yet but you can feel his strength pulsating around your neck. His broad shoulders are taking up most of your vision and with the way he glares at you you just know that you are soaked.

"Don't get too bold with me, darling," he says in a warning tone. "I'm the one in charge."

You look up at him through big, round eyes, lashes fluttering because you have a feeling that it will push just the right buttons in him.

"Go ahead then," you reply firmly. "Do whatever you want to me."

San sits up again and roughly tugs on his sleeves, finally discarding his shirt fully. Then his lips are on yours again in a heartbeat.

You greedily let your hands wander over his now fully exposed upper body. The muscles playing under his skin feel so good as he buries his hands in your hair. His biceps is so big that your fingers can barely wrap around it halfway. You can't get enough of touching his body which so far you only admired in fitted dressing shirts.

San kisses his way down from your lips again but this time he doesn't stop at your neck. Continuing down your chest he kisses the tender skin between your breasts. When he takes both hands to squish your breasts together, burying his face in between, you lose your last bit of composure.

"Please, San. Please just fuck me."

He lifts his head to smile at you devilishly. The fire behind his eyes seems so bright that you're scared it will never burn down again.

"Already begging for me? You're still half dressed and I'm only starting. Have a little patience."

As he finishes his words, his hand snakes behind your back to open your bra in a swift motion. He peels the straps off of you with a new found patience that makes you feel like you are suffocating.

When the piece of clothing lands on the floor, San's eyes are glued to your chest. Slowly, he lowers himself down again, gently taking on of your nipples into his mouth. As soon as his tongue starts lapping at you a string of moans escape you. He just feels so good.

Without ever losing focus on kissing and nipping on your chest, one of his hands wanders to your skirt. He finds the zipper so easily it feels like he has studied undressing you. He pushes it down your legs quickly, leaving you only in your underwear.

As his hand starts stroking your inner thighs, your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels like a dream.

"Please San. Please touch me," the words leave your mouth in whispers. Silent pleas for him to finally give you what you want.

"Is my darling so stressed from studying that she needs her mind taken off of things?" His fingers trail over your clothed heat as he asks you in a sickly sweet voice. His eyes are focussed on your face, taking in how you crumble beneath his touch.

"Yes. Yes, please," you whimper desperately. Every touch feels like electricity on your skin.

"Want me to stuff you full so you can forget everything you've studied for for weeks?" He pushes your panties to the side, his fingers toying at your entrance.

"Please San..." you repeat yourself weakly. Finally he gives into your pleading and sinks two of his fingers into you. You are so wet that they glide in with ease. You suck in a harsh breath as he begins pumping them in and out of you.

"God you feel so good. Can't wait to fuck you, my darling. Bury my cock so deep into you you forget your own name."

His words make you shake beneath him. You had a lot of suspicions about San in the bedroom due to your extensive daydreaming about him. But never did you expect him to be so vocal and downright dirty with his words. It catches you off-guard and only heightens your pleasure.

San scoots up on the bed a little so his face is hovering over yours again, while he slips a third finger into your heat. "How do I feel?" he asks with a raspy tone to his voice.

"You feel so fucking good, San," you moan in answer. His fingers stretch you out so deliciously and he reaches this spot deep inside you that makes you arch your back with every thrust.

"Yeah, you wanna come on my fingers?" he rasps into your ear now, lips again attaching to your neck, sucking deep marks into your skin.

"Please, San." You feel like a broken record that's repeating the same thing over and over. You grow closer and closer to an orgasm with every motion of his fingers inside you. But San has other plans for you. And when he feels you desperately clenching around his fingers, he pulls them out of you.

"I'm sorry darling," he says immediately, even though his face doesn't display any regret. "But you look so pretty when you're desperate. And I want you to come on my cock when I make you fall apart for the first time."

You feel like crying. You want nothing more but to come and yet him taking it from you only makes you want him more. You would do anything for Choi San.

He stands up from the bed and opens his belt. But before he can take of his pants, he orders you over with a motion of his finger. You sit on your knees at the edge of the bed in seconds, looking up at him expectantly.

He doesn't say a word and only gestures for his painfully strained pants. You don't need any more hints to start opening his pants and pulling them down his legs desperately. You hook your fingers into his boxers too but look up at him once more before continuing. When he nods at you you finally pull them down as well.

You can't help but stare at San's length. He's big, just like you had always imagined and he was rock-hard. When San takes himself into his hand and gives himself a few strokes you open your mouth on your own, sticking out your tongue in anticipation of tasting him.

San starts gently. His other hand weaves into your hair and he pulls you onto his length slowly. You are able to take a good amount of him before his tip hits the back of your throat and you release a surprised moan. San closes his eyes momentarily as he relishes in the feeling of your hot mouth around him.

"Shit, you feel so good," he rasps out before he starts thrusting in and out of your mouth. Your hands seek hold on his muscular thighs and you look up at San through big and pleading eyes. Even though he isn't pleasuring you, this almost feels as good as having him bury his fingers inside you. All you ever dreamed about was him using you just like this and the feeling of it happening is so intoxicating you feel like you might pass out any second.

"Look at you enjoying my cock so damn much, that your eyes are losing focus," San chuckles. He looks down at you in disbelief as you mindlessly swirl your tongue around his cock. "You love being ruined by me, don't you?"

You can only manage a desperate nod and approving grunt as you continue sucking him of. No man has ever made you this desperate. As you look at him from beneath you feel like you have accomplished everything you ever wanted: his hair was dishevelled, his breaths uneven and a red tint painted his cheeks. All in all, Choi San lost his perfectly maintained appearance as you sucked on his cock and to you he looked 100 times prettier this way.

When his thrusts go sloppy, he pulls out of your mouth in a haste before he can come. "You're driving me crazy, darling," he grunts as he catches his breath for a second. In a more gentle tone he resumes: "Lay back on the bed for me, ok?"

You do as he says, laying down on your back in the middle of the bed, your body buzzing with the anticipation of what is to come. San goes to his dresser, opening a drawer to get a condom.

When he climbs over you he looks at you intensely. But at the same time his eyes hold a softness that makes you feel secure.

"Are you sure about going on, y/n?" he asks warmly. No petnames this time. He wants a clear answer.

"Never been so sure in my life," you reply with a smile and his lips mirror yours as he beams down at you.

Quickly he sits up to open the condom and roll it onto his member. Opening your legs with his knee he situates himself between you and positions his cock at your entrance. One hand on your hip and the other holding his cock, he slowly sinks himself into you while carefully observing your face.

Your eyes flutter when he is fully inside of you and you moan at the feeling. San releases a grunt as well and waits a few seconds deep inside of you.

"Fuck, you're so tight for me, my darling. Don't worry I won't stop this time until you come." And with that he starts thrusting into you. He begins with slow and deep thrusts but as soon as you get used to his size he speeds up rapidly.

His abs are flexing underneath is skin as he grabs onto your hip and pistons himself into you. With every thrust you can feel him hit this spongy part deep inside of you that makes heat build in your core with a throbbing intensity. Meanwhile you revel in the sight above you: San looks like a god. His muscular body moving above you is almost enough to push you over the edge but what's even more entrancing is his face. His expressions seem almost possessed. Like a demon took over him as soon as he started fucking you, he fixes his eyes onto yours.

"Am I fucking you good? Making you forget all your precious studies?" There they are again. His filthy words driving you down a one-way-road to insanity. "I hope you forget everything so you have to see me even more, darling. Then I can keep on fucking this tight little cunt over and over again."

"Fuck, San!" you moan out, being shocked by his words. His control over you is baffling and you can't help but grow closer and closer to your orgasm with every word.

"I know you like me like that, darling. Do me a favour and come on my cock so I can finally see you lose yourself will you?"

You can't form an answer. Endless moans tumble out of your mouth in increasing volume and San knows he has you exactly where he wants.

"Come for me."

Your orgasm hits you with an explosive intensity. Faintly, you notice yourself moan at a concerning volume as your high washes over your body. But San doesn't seem to mind. Your legs are shaking and he helps you ride out the feeling with slower strokes. He waits for your breath to slow down again before he leans down to you and places a gentle kiss onto your lips.

"I want you on your knees in front of me," he says sweetly as soon as your lips separate and your head is spinning. Still you manage to get up with the help of his arm beneath your waist and you let yourself be positioned in front of San, your back to him.

Since you didn't have the opportunity to examine his bedroom earlier you only now notice the big mirror on his wardrobe next to his bed. Looking ahead, you can now see yourself on your knees, sitting in front of San.

You look even more dishevelled than you feel: Your hair is all over the place and some of your eyeliner smudged and a handful of dark purple marks littering your neck. Also, a red tint covers your skin, making you look flushed. San behind you smirks as you examine your own figure.

"You look so pretty all messed up like this for me, don't you think?"

His arm wraps around your waist as he leans your body back onto his broad chest. You look tiny in front of his build.

"I'll make you look even prettier," he promises as he sinks himself back into you.

He picks up his intense pace from before and you already feel dizzy again. With his arm holding you tight he is basically lifting you up and down his cock. At this angle he is hitting you deeper than before and you are sure you won't last very long until your next high.

But nothing could've prepared you for the feeling of San winding his other arm around you too, his fingers gently starting to stroke your clit. Your head falls back onto San's shoulder as you give in to the mind-numbing pleasure that starts buzzing through your body.

"Keep your eyes on me, darling. I want to watch you fall apart."

His voice sounds sulky, almost cute. It doesn't match his relentless thrusts and his fingers pleasuring you. It takes all your strength to lift your head again and look at San through the mirror. His eyes are hooded now, a shin layer of sweat making his flawless skin shine in the evening light.

"You make me feel so good," you manage to say as San keeps on pounding into you. You want him to know how he makes you feel. How good he is being to you.

"Am I?" He smiles in satisfaction as he watches your brows draw together with a particularly deep thrust. "You too, darling. You feel so good around me I don't think I can last much longer. But you'll come one more time for me, right?"

His voice sounds so deep and sultry in your ears. "Of course, Sannie," you mumble absent-mindedly. You don't even notice the nickname until he chuckles behind you.

"How can you be so cute and so sexy at the same time? You'll be the death of me, my good little girl."

He places a kiss onto your cheek and that is what finally drives you over the edge.

"Fuck, San. I'm coming," you moan out before your high crashes over you. If he wasn't holding you, you would fall to the ground. You try to hold eye contact with San through the reflection but your eyes keep on shutting as waves of pleasure roll over you. You have never felt such an intensity before.

But San's thrust don't slow down this time. He keeps on rutting into you relentlessly, driving you to insanity. You feel like you're swimming in a pool of pleasure.

"I'm close, darling. Just a little longer," San's voice is pitched higher than before, sounding just as desperate as you feel. You want nothing more but for him to come.

"Please, Sannie. I want you to come so bad."

Your desperate pleas are San's final straw. Clutching your body tight to his own, he finishes with his cock buried deep inside you. You can feel him pulsating in your heat and your moans mix into his grunts as you milk him for every last drop of his cum.

As you both slowly recover San pulls out of you and gently lays you back onto the bed. You can't do anything but catch your breath while he gets up to rid himself of the condom and return to you with a glass of water.

"Drink something," he urges you on and you take the glass from him. He watches you with a tinge of worry in his eyes. After taking a few sips you offer the glass back to him.

"You should drink some too, I'm sure you worked your body more than I did."

He smiles at your words and takes some water too before returning the glass to his bedside table. When he looks back at you there is a heaviness to his gaze that worries you.

"What is it?" you ask.

San takes a deep breath before answering you. "No matter what I said to you before, I actually didn't expect us to tumble into this as quickly as we did right now. And I want you to know that I didn't do this to use you or take any advantage of you."

His hand nervously grabs for the back of his neck. "Actually, I've been interested in you ever since we first met but I fear the tension between us was quicker than both of us."

You try to process his words even in your hazy state of mind. A spark of excitement surges through your body as you realize what he is saying.

"I feel the same, San," you reply truthfully. "I like you. And not just because you're insanely handsome."

You are glad when he laughs shyly at your words.

"So maybe I can take you out on a date that doesn't involve work or pharmacy studies sometime?"

"I hope sometime means this week, because I waited long enough for you already."

After everything that happened this evening, this moment when he smiles at you might be what makes your heart beat the fastest. You can't believe your luck as you look Choi San into the eyes and he leans in for a kiss.

-----------------

"This was a stupid idea," you say to San but maybe more to yourself. "I should tell her alone."

"How will she ever respect me again if I let you do this alone?" San replies worriedly. "She told me to tutor you and now here we are. I will look terrible either way."

You have never seen him this nervous. But after all, your mother has the ability to make everybody scared for their life. You two pass her assistant's desk with a polite greeting as you head straight for your mother's office. She knows you are coming but she doesn't know you're bringing company.

You knock carefully on the door until her voice calls you in. Your mother stays seated as you two enter the room. She doesn't look surprised or confused about San's appearance but rather intrigued.

"Why are you visiting me today, y/n?" she asks simply.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you prepare for answering.

"I have something to announce to you," you start off as confident as you can.

Your mother's eyes flick between you and San. "Go on."

"San- ... Mr. Choi and I, we are..." your voice is shaking. Why is this so hard for you?

But San grabs for your hand, linking his fingers with yours as he confidently finishes your sentence: "We are in a relationship, director Kim."

His boldness strikes you as admiring. Maybe he was right about accompanying you.

A silence that draws out unbearably long fills the room. You feel like your lungs are being compressed with every passing second.

Then your mother smiles. It's not exactly a smile of happiness. It speaks more of victory.

"Finally," she announced. "It took you two longer than I expected."

Now it's your turn to be silent. Both you and San are stunned in your places.

Finally you find your voice to ask: "What do you mean, mom?"

She smiles at you in satisfaction.

"You see: Mr. Choi is a good man. He's a gentleman, treats his colleagues with the utmost respect, excels at his job and is handsome too. How could I find a better match for my beloved daughter? But I know you wouldn't be interested if I were to formerly introduce you two so I thought I'd help you in a different way."

Your mouth falls open in shock. Out of all things, your mother purposefully setting you up with San has never even crossed your mind. Your boyfriend seems even more shocked at the revelation than you, his face reddened and a stunned expression on his face.

"So you set us two up?" You finally ask your mother.

"Of course I did! And it worked out brilliantly, don't you think? I'm glad you both came to tell me. Mr. Choi?"

San perks up at her words. "Yes?"

"I assume you will take good care of my daughter?"

"Of course I will," he replies sternly, voice full of sincerity. "I will do everything care for y/n." His words make you feel warm and fuzzy.

Your mother nods approvingly. "Then you two may leave. I still have work to do."

You both nod hastily and thank your mother before turning back for the door.

"Oh, before I forget. Y/n?" your mother asks one last time.

"Yes?"

"I received your test results that you sent me. They look very promising."

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sungbeam · 8 months

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nonidol!eric sohn x f!reader

you won't think golf is a boring sport after he's done with you! (but it's not about golf, and it's not about swings. just a young heir with money, love, and a thing for you.)

▷ genre, warnings. technically s2l, country club au, summer break au, starts with him already into you, slight pining? idk, fluff, humor, rich people™, golf lol, swearing, drinking, kissing, it gets like actually romantic, Eric Sohn bc he's so attractive someone help me.

▷ word count. 11.4k

▷ inspired by swing my way (cha cha malone & phe r.e.d.s)

a/n: my submission for the deoboyznet summer on you event! and @mosviqu who implanted the idea of country club rich boy eric into my brain @@

It wasn't like Eric Sohn, heir to his parents' multi-million dollar investment firm, prized shortstop of the UCLA baseball team, planned to spend his entire summer charming his parents' clients and partners. A summer spent at the Beverly Hills Country Club wasn't something new for the young heir either. The rolling, emerald green hills for golf; the clean cement tennis courts; the dim and classy bars were all ingrained in him since childhood. They were environments Eric had learned to thrive in, and when one had the advantage, one was always taught to wield it like a blade.

At least, that was what he was taught. Over the years, he'd also learned that his extroverted personality and charming smile were disarming—and his pretty boy appearance often resulted in others underestimating him. That was their mistake.

"...that trip to Taiwan will be such a great opportunity to explore the relationship between our companies."

Eric clasped Mr. Thomas Tsaur's hand in a firm shake as the two men stood at the final hole of the golf course. Eric beamed. "Yes, of course! I know my mom would love to see the night markets around Taipei; my parents have been looking forward to the trip all year," he said, as easy as breathing air. Of course, he didn't really know if his parents were looking forward to it. If he was the one on his way to Taiwan instead, he knew that he himself would be ecstatic.

During business meetings—and meetings that weren't officially classified as business, but were definitely about business—Eric tried to stay as true to himself as possible. Once in a while, some of the persona he'd built up slipped through the cracks, but there was a reason he liked baseball more than business.

Mr. Tsaur made a pleasant reply back about promising a fun-filled tour of the city with his wife, and the two of them were splitting up. There were offhanded comments about seeing each other for dinner when Eric's parents finally arrived, but that was all that was left of the interaction.

Eric jogged down the hill toward the conventional path where a white-topped golf cart sat waiting for him. His driver and caddy companion for the day was Jacob Bae, a regular worker here at the country club whom Eric had known for at least a couple years now.

But instead of just Jacob and the cart, Eric found that someone else had joined the group.

You sat in the second row of the golf cart with a circular serving tray pressed over your lap. Like some of the other staff members at the club, you wore the standard black, collared shirt and black skort. He'd seen you around this place plenty of times this summer and even greeted you once or twice, but he knew you were new.

Oh, trust that he knew a new face when he saw one, especially when said face was as pretty as yours. The only shame was that you were often assigned to areas where Eric didn't exactly frequent, but he never took himself as the type to give up easily.

You and Jacob were sharing a laugh as Eric approached the golf cart with his golf putter in hand. "Hey guys," Eric chirped.

All the attention flickered over to Eric, but he couldn't stop staring at the way the slight breeze this afternoon was making your hair fall in your face all pretty. Even in a braid, the little strands fell out to frame your face.

"Oh, hi Eric! How was the last round?" Jacob asked as he twisted around in his driver's seat to watch Eric round the back to put his putter away. You had shifted in your seat slightly to follow him with your eyes, as well.

Eric slid the stick into his bag and caught your eyes. His smile widened. "It went well. Same old, same old," he chuckled, bracing a gloves hand on the roof of the cart. "When'd you get here, Yn?" He asked you with a nod of his chin.

You perked up at the sound of your name. Cute. "Ah, just a few minutes ago," you said. You sheepishly gestured to your empty tray. "Haknyeon dropped me off a few holes over to deliver drinks, and then I saw Jacob over here and walked over to catch a ride back to the clubhouse."

"I can't believe he just ditched you," Jacob chortled.

Eric circled around the cart to take the seat in the front beside Jacob. "He ditched you?" He frowned, leaning his arm over the back of the seat to look at you.

As the cart began making its smooth return down the path and over a small bridge, you smoothed your braid over your shoulder. "No, no! He didn't ditch me; we were just headed in the same direction until we… weren't," you mused. "I mean, if Cobie wasn't here, a walk back wouldn't have been the worst thing anyways."

"I guess," Eric agreed, biting his lip. "So, uh… ever played golf before?"

"Golf? It's been a while, but yeah, I've driven the occasional golf ball across a green."

From the driver's seat, Jacob slapped his right hand down on Eric's shoulder. "Yn-ie! This guy's one of the best casual golf players you'll probably ever meet. His swing? So clean."

Eric chuckled, clasping a hand on the back of his neck, when he felt your attention flicker back to him again. "I'm no pro…"

"I'll have to see that for myself then," you said with a smile.

The golf cart slowed to a stop in front of the doors into the main kitchens of the clubhouse proper. Because this main kitchen was so large, they were given their own set of doors directly to the outdoor courts and beyond for easy access. While Jacob would drop you off here, he would have to continue onward for Eric's proper spot.

You clambered out of the golf cart, poking Jacob in the shoulder as you went. "Bye, guys! Thanks for the ride, Cobie."

"Bye, Yn!" Both boys chimed together. When you disappeared behind the swinging kitchen doors, Jacob pulled the cart back onto the main road to carry onward.

Eric settled into his seat to face forward once again. He lifted the cap off his head and carded a hand through his hair to let the strands, dampened with sweat, dry a bit. "I didn't know Yn was allowed to work the golf range," he commented as innocently as possible.

Jacob made a small humming noise. "Yeah, we're short a couple people out here because of the Ferndale event going on down by the gazebo."

"She wasn't sent there?"

"Did you want her to be sent there?" Jacob grinned slyly at the young heir, who turned his gaze elsewhere.

Eric coughed. "I didn't say that."

His companion still would not wipe that knowing smile off his face, even as he slowed the golf cart to a stop and Eric hopped out to collect his equipment from the back. "I didn't say you did," he snickered as Eric walked away.

He didn't give Jacob the satisfaction of an answer, instead, saying a "thank you" for driving him over his shoulder, before ducking inside the clubhouse locker room.

Jacob shook his head in amusement and began making his way further down the path to return the cart. Silly, silly kids.

You didn't realize country clubs were real until you were sitting in the office of the Beverly Hills Country Club's hiring manager and being hired. That was about a month ago, and no, you still didn't believe it was real. The entire training experience, in fact, had swept through like a fever dream.

The summer season had just begun, though, and they had taken you on in a rush of desperation. You hadn't failed to notice how relieved the hiring manager looked when you told him you'd worked as a waitress at an upscale wedding venue before you moved cross-country, and knew how to carry a drink platter and dirty dishes. That was part of the reason you'd been hired on the spot. You'd also mentioned your extensive knowledge of how to fold cloth napkins into swans, and you liked to think that was your true selling point. (Don't ask, the last part was because you had been very bored while waiting in the backroom during a wedding.)

And while you cared little about cleaning pools or catering to rich prick egos, you did care about the crisp green bills that graced your eyes with more frequency than a Superman actor on Hollywood Boulevard. There was also the possibility to gain some more experience in the dining and catering world; if you were lucky, you could butter up your manager to let you help out in the kitchen some.

After all, that was why you were here so far from home.

"Yn, you've got company at table five," Haknyeon said as he passed by you on his way into the kitchen.

You gave a nod out of instinct. You brushed your hands against your black waist apron, absentmindedly reaching up to also smooth out the black vest on your upper half. Usually when you worked at the club's restaurants and bars as wait staff, your uniform consisted of a white button down under a black vest, followed by a black skirt and apron. It was classy and chic, and definitely added to the expensive atmosphere.

You could see table five in your section up ahead. It was a little early into dinner service, but there were still people who came in. To your surprise, the company at table five was none other than Eric Sohn himself, along with two others you recognized as his parents. They were dressed casually—meaning semiformal. It was something out of a dinner cruise, with Eric's dark brunette waves styled effortlessly messy and the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone to reveal the slightly bronzed, toned skin beneath—

You cleared your throat, plastering a smile on your face as you approached the table. "Evening, everyone. Mr. and Mrs. Sohn," you gave a small greeting bow to his parents, then swiftly doled out little napkins for their drinks. "It's nice to see you on the grounds again today."

"Oh, Yn! It's very nice to see you this evening," said Mrs. Sohn with a delicate flourish of her wrist.

"Yes!" Mr. Sohn chimed in, "What have you been up to? Eric says he saw you on the golf range today."

Your eyes darted to Eric's, then went back to his parents when you realized his eyes were on you. You laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and bracing the end of your serving tray against your waist. "Oh, uhm, yeah! I was just summoned down there to get some drinks to the Santos family—you know them, right?"

Recognition lit up in Eric's mother's eyes. "Yes, yes! Marina and her kids! Ah, well that sounds nice; I'll have to see if I can bump into her at the spa or something. Eric gave you a ride back in his cart, didn't he? The walk back is awfully far."

You nodded. "Yeah, of course. He was with Jacob, so I just hopped in the back and rode back with them here."

"I still owe you that golf date," Eric cut in smoothly, the hand with his Rolex draped over the back of his chair. His smile was casual, innocent, the kind that so easily could make anyone do his bidding.

"Golf date?" His parents glanced curiously between the two of you, and you felt heat rush up to your cheeks.

"It was just an offhand comment," you said sheepishly. "Jacob was telling me about how great of a golfer Eric is and I said I wanted to see his swing some time." Before anything else could be said on the matter, you tucked your tray under your arm and replaced it with your notepad and pen. "Can I get you anything to drink? An appetizer to start?"

That drew away the conversation promptly. It wasn't like you were uncomfortable with the idea of going on a date with Eric Sohn, it just wasn't that simple. Though the club officially encouraged good relationships between staff and club members, they didn't exactly encourage the romantic kind of relationship. Obviously, it would be impossible to enforce a no-entanglement policy completely, but you wanted to stay on your manager's good side.

You nearly folded in half over the counter of the tiki bar at the pool. Sweat streamed down the side of your face, and you were pretty sure your baby hairs looked akin to a lion's mane under your white baseball cap. Thank god the club didn't force you to wear a black colored hat instead; the black polo and skort were death enough.

Jacob chuckled as he passed you a clean, damp towel that had been soaking in ice water. "Before you get heat stroke," he said, then returned to preparing a tray of drinks someone had ordered at the hot tub.

You thanked him profusely, dabbing your face and neck with the cool blessing. "Sheesh," you groaned. "I think I need to reapply my sunscreen soon. How are you out here all the time, Cobie?"

He grinned with a half-hearted shrug. "Well, I work with cold drinks and I'm under the shade. And—" he tapped the handy little fan clipped to one of the structure poles of the tiki bar, "—this beautiful work of engineering."

"I need one of those umbrella hats and squirt bottles kids bring to Disneyland," you grumbled and plucked yourself up from the bar. You returned the towel to Jacob so he could toss it into the soiled towel bin on the other side of him. You watched as he finished up filling the tray and whistled at the pool waiter who had ordered it for the group at the hot tub.

As the waiter walked away with the drinks, you thought aloud, "How could they stand to be in the hot tub in this heat?" From here, you could see the group of girls gathered in the bubbling jets of the hot tub at the far end of the pool in their bikini tops and Gucci shades.

"They're not standing—they're sitting."

You sent Jacob an unimpressed look, to which he simply smiled wider.

"Hey guys!" Ji Changmin huffed and puffed as he collapsed onto the barstool next to you. He had a towel hanging around his shoulders and a white sweatband holding up his dark bangs dripping with sweat. "Can I get an ice water, hyung?"

"Yeah, man," Jacob said, already dumping a scoop of ice in a cup.

"You alright there, Changmin?" You glanced over at the club's dance instructor with barely concealed amusement.

Changmin took the corner of his towel to dry the dribble of sweat making its way down his forehead. "Whoever thought it was a good idea to do hot Zumba in the height of summer needs a reality check. I think I'm dying."

As one of the country club's primary dance instructors, not only did Changmin lead all of the dance activities on the grounds, he was also supposed to take over any dance aerobics classes like said hot Zumba. You knew it wasn't his favorite, but it was still funny to make faces at him through the window as he did can-can kicks in leg warmers with all of the rich moms.

You leaned down to check if he had the leg warmers on. He did not. At least he finally had the good sense to break uniform.

Jacob slid over an ice-cold glass of water, and Changmin drained it like a man who trekked through the desert for seven days. You glanced at Jacob's digital clock on the counter behind him—he kept it so he could be on time for all of his breaks.

"Oh shit," you said, quickly fixing your cap and adjusting your hair, "time for me to get back to work."

Changmin straightened. "Where are you stationed today, Yn-ie? Chanhee and I wanted to come pick you up later for dinner before we have to come back."

"That's right!" Jacob slapped his palm to his forehead. "We have to all be back here for the banquet. I almost forgot, damn it."

You cocked a brow at him. "Wow, you, Jacob Bae, almost forgot about the major event all of our jobs are riding on that's taking place tonight?"

A smile curled onto your face when Jacob narrowed his eyes at you. "Don't you have work to do?"

You let out a laugh and began backing away from the tiki bar and your friends. "Kim has me at the ice cream bar until the end of my shift, Changmin. I'll catch you boys later!"

Jacob and Changmin raised their hands in twin waves to you as you walked away. If you remembered the time on Jacob's clock correctly, you had about fifteen minutes to get up to the indoor ice cream bar for your shift.

Tonight, the country club was hosting a banquet for one of the business men here. It was supposedly one of the most important events for the club's reputation, so it was all hands on deck. Everyone from Chanhee at the spa to Haknyeon in the kitchen were called upon to clock into work once again tonight to help out. You were glad you weren't a part of the set-up and takedown committees, but you were expected to wait on the banquet. Jacob was supposed to be bartending tonight, as usual, and your other friends and coworkers would be waiting alongside you.

You glanced up on your walk out of the pool area and nearly tripped over the soles of your sneakers.

Coming in hot (literally) were none other than Eric Sohn, Lee Hyunjae, and Lee Juyeon—all of whom were very much shirtless. Swim trunks hung low on their waists, their stomachs carved like triplet Michaelangelos. Seeing shirtless guys at the pool wasn't new for you, but these guys were actually around your age.

Eric saw you first and waved. "Yn, hey!"

"Hi guys," you greeted back with a shallow nod of your head. "Nice day out for a swim."

"I know, right?" Hyunjae raised a hand to shield his eyes from the unforgiving summer sun. "You must be baking in that uniform, Yn." He raised his chin to gesture at the all black attire.

"I don't suppose you'd be able to join us?" Juyeon smiled. He knew you probably couldn't join them because you were clocked in, but he had always been pretty nice nonetheless. He and Hyunjae were cousins, and the Lee family was well-known around here for being big names in the legal sphere, as well as being one of the larger families. There was another cousin of theirs around their age running around here somewhere, too.

You gave a helpless shrug. "Duty calls, unfortunately."

"Yn, hey wait—" Eric caught your attention as you were about to continue walking up toward the main clubhouse. He flashed you that smile again, the one that made your stomach do flips and would convince you to do flips for him if only he asked. "You won't happen to be working at the banquet tonight, are you?"

"How'd you guess?" You replied good-naturedly. "Why do you ask?"

He began walking backwards toward the direction his friends had drifted off to, his smile tilting up slightly. "So I know which cologne I should wear."

And it definitely wasn't a trick of the summer sun that made you see him wink at you.

"He's into you."

"He is not—" you wrestled your sleeve up your forearm and made a frustrated noise when the button would not go through, "—into me."

Chanhee gave you a nice, slow eye roll just so you would see it, and he yanked the sleeve away from you so he could roll it up himself. "A lot of men around here like smelling nice, but no one pulls out the Acqua Di Gio just for the service girl or a business banquet," he hissed as a fellow waiter rushed past you two in the narrow corridor. "Jesus, why is this button such a bitch?"

"That's what I'm saying," you hissed back at him as the two of you both struggled to fix your sleeve. "Not the cologne thingy—I hate how you're able to just take a whiff and name the cologne. What kind of demon nose do you have?"

Chanhee sighed and collapsed against the wall opposite to you when he finally managed to get the sleeve right. The two of you were currently on break, not hiding, in this corridor. In T-minus two minutes, you would both have to be back out in the hustle and bustle of cleanup or after-party drinks in the lounge. Because the main course had finally been served, a lot of the waiters were allowed to go on break. The banquet thus far had gone relatively smoothly, other than the fact that when you had served Eric all of his courses, he'd made sure you practically melted on the smell of his cologne.

It wasn't your fault you had to bend down close to him to not spill the hot food. And it wasn't your fault that he chose to put his mouth right to your ear when he told you a joke, masking it as asking for more water.

You couldn't decide if you were going to giggle or let your knees buckle at that moment. Thank god you managed to laugh behind your hand and hustle away before anyone noticed.

But that was besides the point. The point was that Chanhee had also passed by Eric, caught the faint trail of Aqua De Whatever, and connected some dots.

"If you want a demon, you talk to Changmin," he said. "I just know my shit. And I also know that you only break out the Acqua Di Gio when you want to attract someone, and based on the fact he's currently seated around about fifty other businesspeople…" Chanhee made a wild, desperate gesture with his hands, eyes widened. Are you getting this? He seemed to ask. Because I will smack you if you aren't.

You fanned yourself, justifying it by thinking about how hot the back hallway was and this outfit was, rather than admitting that it was because Eric was hot. "Okay, okay. Come on, we have to get back out there," you said, already turning your heel toward the door.

"I'm just saying that clearly he's been trying to tell you something," Chanhee added as you both broke out of the hallway and into the kitchen. He grabbed a circular serving tray from a stack on the counter next to him to hand over to you.

"Well, what do you suppose I should do with that?"

He pressed his lips into a thin smile, taking hold of a small, empty cart and pushing it ahead of him. "Just keep an open mind, darling."

You and Chanhee separated at the kitchen doors out into the banquet hall. While he would be a part of cleaning up, you needed to head over to the next-door parlor where the party had moved post-dinner. Business would continue as usual, just with a few more drinks and pool involved.

The parlor room was arguably one of your favorite rooms in the club with its cozier atmosphere created by the evergreen walls, tiffany-shaded lamps, and dark oak furnishings. It was also outfitted with a hearth (unused during the summer and spring) and a billiards table. Most of those who had chosen to stay had migrated with a certain crowd of people they planned to continue chatting with. Your job, as well as the few others recruited to the parlor, was to be a fly on the wall until somebody needed something. If tips were passed around, you were free to pocket them.

You were probably standing and waiting for only five minutes before you saw Eric stand up from where he was on the far side of the room. He shouldered his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of his armchair, exposing the white dress shirt and black vest beneath. Whew, he was wearing a full suit to this event? You wondered how he even survived, but all conscious thought flew out the window when he caught you staring and started smirking to himself. The smug, little expression stayed etched into the sharp planes of his face even as he strolled over to the pool table and lined up his shot.

You wondered—and it was just a thought—what it'd be like (possibly) for him to lean over you—

"Excuse me, miss?" You shook out of your daze and remembered why you were here. Unfortunately, it was not to admire the young heir watching you from the other side of the room, but to serve guests.

For the next couple of hours, your job was exactly what you did. You had been so focused on running back and forth from the bar in the other room and back that you always seemed to have missed Eric trying to catch your eye again. If he wanted drinks, he had to suck it up and ask someone else who just happened to be near him instead.

As the evening dwindled into a sweet, humid night, the amount of guests also began to trickle down. You had grabbed a rag on your way back to the parlor room and said goodbye to your coworkers on their way out. Some still lingered for last minute clean up, and though you were technically done for the night, you wanted to wipe down anything you had missed. It was something simple that you could do to help out a colleague, and it wasn't like you were in a rush to go home.

When you walked back into the parlor room, however, you blinked—surprised—at the sight of an individual left. He leaned against the billiards table, one hand holding the edge of the suit jacket draped over his shoulder and the other scrolling through his phone.

Eric glanced up from his device and pocketed it at the sight of you. "Hey."

"Hi," you said back. "Uhm, can I get you anything—"

"Oh, no no. I'm good." He shook his head, pushing off from the table. He shot you that signature boyish smile of his and your heart began doing cartwheels. "I just wanted to ask if I could give you a lift home."

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Truthfully, you were caught off guard, stunned. This wasn't what you were expecting from him.

He saw your hesitation and let out a sheepish laugh, cupping the back of his head. "Sorry, this is so out of the blue. I… it's a little late out right now, and I didn't know if you had a ride or not. I know you're not usually scheduled to work so late."

"You know my schedule?" You blurted. Though, the thought did warm you and amuse you.

His eyes widened. "I mean, uhm, definitely not in the creepy, stalkerish sort of way! I uh, I like to think I pay a lot more attention when it comes to you." His admission didn't do much to slow the racing organ in your chest cavity. You always saw Eric Sohn as one of those smooth and collected young men who were born to charm. But seeing him flustered and tripping over his words because of you?

You ducked your head slightly, flattered and most definitely charmed still. "I'd really appreciate a lift home, Eric."

You both shared a smile in the slightly dimmed, slightly warmed lights of the parlor room.

Once you had finished glossing over the surfaces of the parlor room with your rag to catch any rings made by perspiring liquids, your manager dismissed you for the night. Eric told you he would meet you out front where he would bring his car around for you. You found yourself standing at the edge of the curb with a gentle, yet rare summer breeze wafting through your hair. You had your bag slung over your shoulder, and you grasped the strap and fidgeted with the material.

A car pulled up to the circular driveway—it was a sports car. The Corvette, sleek and aerodynamic, was doused in a shiny orange coat of paint that glimmered even in the night. The passenger side window rolled down so you could see Eric leaning over the center console and waving to you.

"Hey, hop in!" He said to you with a grin, lowering the music he was playing.

Gingerly, you walked up to the car and managed to maneuver yourself inside. The passenger seat was lined in soft black leather, and the inside of the car made it all the more easy to suffocate on that delicious cologne of his.

Eric had ditched his suit jacket and vest in the backseat of the car, leaving him in just his white dress shirt and slacks.

"Nice car," you whistled lowly as you buckled yourself in.

His mouth tilted upward. "Thanks," he said. He fussed around with his phone for a second before passing the device to you. "If you wouldn't mind putting your number and address in."

"Oh." It was a brand new contact page. You didn't question it, swiftly inputting all of the necessary information before returning his phone to him.

Eric took a peek at the address, then pulled out of the country club's driveway. You didn't live too far away from the club, luckily. It was only a few minute's drive, but the walk sometimes felt a bit longer. California didn't exactly have the most convenient public transportation system, and in an area like Beverly Hills, it was near impossible to find a reliable bus or train service.

"Any music preferences?" He asked you quietly.

You shook your head. "I'm not super picky. What you have on is all good with me."

"I have to confess, Yn," he said with a half smile, eyes darting toward you, "that I was trying to steal your attention all night."

Your stomach flipped and you suppressed the smile that threatened to crawl onto your mouth. "Really?"

He laughed. "Yeah, but obviously, your work ethic beat me out, as well as my own luck."

"Any reason for seeking me out?" He'd technically had your attention all throughout the banquet, but he had also needed to entertain and chat with the other people around him. While the after party was sometimes used for business discussion, too, the banquet dinner itself was the main event.

"I mean, besides wanting to talk to the cute girl eating up all my thoughts?"

He was turning onto your apartment complex's street all too soon. The car slid into a parking spot along the curb, and he twisted in his seat to face you. "I really want to take you out, show you a good time. It doesn't have to be something fancy if that's not your vibe; we can always start with golf."

You let the smile bloom on your face at the reference to the "golf date" you both had yet to schedule. You still wanted to see his swing, after all. "Then it's a date," you said, "I should have a free day two days from now, if that works for you."

Eric bit his lip. "I'm all yours, hon."

Before you could start doing somersaults from excitement, you resolved yourself to getting into your apartment first. "Well, thank you again for the lift, Eric. You have my number?"

He nodded. "Never losing it."

You grinned something fond. He grinned right back at you. "Get home safe."

"I will. Good night, cutie."

You slammed the car door shut and left Eric to his lonesome. Through the passenger side window, Eric watched as you disappeared into your apartment complex, safe and sound. He had almost given into the urge to ask if he could walk you up, but it was a miracle you had even taken him up on his offer to drive you home.

He pulled up your contact and sent you a text so you could have his number, too, as soon as possible. He deposited his phone into the cup holder, then punched the roof of his car with a shit-eating grin on his face. He'd scored your number and a date in one night—damn right, he did.

You had reasoned with yourself that this was okay based on the fact that you weren't on company time.

"Shoooooot," you whistled with a slight arch in your brows and applause. You tracked the distance Eric's driving shot sent the golf ball flying, and in the early morning sunlight, the white sphere disappeared over the crest of green hill.

You figured being courted by a club member during your own free time was a loophole you could live with. Especially when such a loophole looked so good swinging a golf club.

His follow through was just as beautiful as he was, his arms lifting the golf club over behind him from the arc. When he lowered the club to turn back to you, he was beaming. "What's the verdict?"

Your golf club was currently acting as your arm rest as you staked the head against the grass. "I don't know, Eric," you sucked in a breath, teasingly. "I think you could've gone pro."

He laughed then, eyes narrowed into glorious upturned crescent moons. "Thanks, cutie." He made a gesture to the tee. "All yours."

"Let me preface this by saying that it's been awhile," you were quick to say as the nerves suddenly bubbled up into your chest and made you wanna do a jittery shuffle. You should not have let Eric go first.

"No worries," he chirped. "Why don't we practice first?"

Yes, practice. Thank god he knew where your head was at.

You eagerly agreed, and set your golf ball up on the tee. Nervously, you smoothed your gloves down the front of your pleated golf skirt. You lined up the face of the golf club with the ball and pulled it back a millimeter—

Then chickened out.

"Performance anxiety," you grimaced to your date.

"Oh, well, that's okay!" Eric set his golf club down on the field and made his way over to you. "Can I help?"

Yes. "Please do," you chuckled, leaving room for him to take your club.

But instead, he shook his head. "No, no. You won't learn anything from just watching, silly goose."

He grabbed the golf club over your hands and lined both of your bodies up correctly. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his front pressed against your back. His mouth was so close to your ear again, and there was that damned cologne making you see hearts.

"Sorry, is this okay?" He asked softly.

You gulped, nodding. "Yeah. Perfectly okay." You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat quicken like a drum crescendoing. If he wasn't careful, your heart might just fall out and run to his arms.

From this position, Eric smoothly guided you through the steps of a perfect swing. The pullback was cranked over your shoulder, then the club would swing straight through, followed by the arc back over your other shoulder and the appropriate turn of your body. As he had explained to you, getting the perfect swing or shot in sports mostly came down to the follow through. If one could not back up their initial movement, then why make the shot?

"—and you turn your body—yeah, just like that," he praised as you automatically rotated yourself from the side to the front, the toe of your foot digging into the ground and turning with you. "That's beautiful."

He backed up from you then, giving you some space. It suddenly felt like you were missing something with him gone. "You should try it now!"

You took a deep breath in as you lined your golf club up with the ball again. Cranking the club back over your shoulder, you swung it down and back up again. When the face of the club met the ball, it did so with a resounding PING!, and the ball went sailing.

(That sound… mwah. The sweet, sweet sound of triumph.)

"You did it!"

"I did it!"

It hadn't gone as far as Eric's had, but it had definitely traveled farther than it would have without his help. You whirled to him, clasping his hand with yours as you both shared equally radiant smiles. A giddiness flooded into you, and no doubt into the glow of your face.

"See? Not too bad," he said, squeezing your hand.

"All thanks to you," you pointed out.

He shook his head, using your linked hands to lead you back to where your golf bags were waiting a little ways back by the cart. "Nah, you had it in you, Yn. It was just performance anxiety, as you said."

The two of you each grabbed your own bags and hiked them over your shoulder to head down the hill and find your respective golf balls. From this view, you could see that the other patrons of the club were slowly trickling out onto the acres surrounding. It felt strange to be here as not a staff member, but as a guest instead.

Eric piped up, "Is it weird that I was hoping you would ask for my help?"

"Not really," you mused, then meekly added, "'cause I was kind of hoping you would offer your help."

He looked about as happy as you felt, and he swung your hands together between you.

It hit you, then, that you were still holding hands. But you didn't let go, and Eric didn't say anything. He just helped you find your golf ball, line up another shot, and hugged you from behind like it was nothing.

From across the pond, Jacob, Changmin, Chanhee, and Haknyeon pulled up over the bridge. The four of them were all piled into a golf cart, and Jacob stopped it just over the crest. They all knew about where you were today and why you were dressed in proper golf attire rather than the country club uniform. They watched with wide eyes (and maybe a camera or two) as you and Eric had a good time.

"Young love," Jacob sighed fondly from his spot in the driver's seat.

"I think it's gross," Changmin giggled. He yelped, furiously rubbing the place on his shoulder that Chanhee had whacked. "Hey! I was kidding!"

Chanhee rolled his eyes. "Let them have their moment. I'm glad Yn-ie let herself have fun with him."

"They look like they're having quite the time," Haknyeon said. "They're cute."

Changmin poked his head in between Jacob and Haknyeon from the backseat. "Just a thought, but what if we turned on the sprinklers like in High School Musical 2?"

An exchange of looks, a deep consideration… "No," they all chorused. They would get their asses kicked for that.

You were on lunch break when Changmin practically crashed onto the bench next to you with a crazed look in his eyes. "You. Me. Spa. Now."

You couldn't even say goodbye to the sandwich you were eating before Changmin grabbed your arm and dragged you across the club.

"Changmin! What the hell—"

"I'll explain in a second!" He hissed back at you while ducking into the service entrance of the spa.

The backdoor led to a staff break room, where Chanhee was currently (coincidentally) seated on a stool eating a box of Pepero while watching a cartoon on his phone. The man glanced up from his phone at the loud commotion, one cheek full of his snack, and he blinked. "You're lucky I'm not with a client right now."

"Yeah, yeah," Changmin said, dragging you and a stool over to Chanhee at the same time. He pushed your shoulders so you would take a seat. Changmin placed his hands on his hips as he stood before the two of you. "You're never gonna guess what I just overheard."

"What?" You and Chanhee asked at the same time.

"Well, you know Clara?"

Chanhee jumped right in. "The one fooling around with that Brian Yang guy. He's the heir to that one corporation monopolizing SIM cards or some shit."

How the hell…?

Changmin's head bobbed vigorously. "Yes, yes! That's the one. Anyways—I was walking past the manager's office and they were talking loud enough to hear with headphones on. Apparently, Clara and Brian had a nasty, nasty split, and Brian got her fired."

Silence.

Chanhee's eyebrows flew up. "Like… fired-fired?"

A grave nod. "Fired-fired."

You held your head in your hands. "Just because of a break up?" You asked. "Clara is such a nice girl."

Your friend's lips were pressed into a line. "Doesn't mean he's a nice guy. I dunno—" he threw his hands in the air and let them flop back against his legs, "—it's fucked, man. He said it was, like, too awkward to be around her all the time since he was here all the time. And because his father is one of the stockholders of the country club, Manager Kim could do little but do his bidding."

Your heart had fallen into the pit of your stomach. Drama like this didn't really happen often here, but there was always something going on.

You always thought there were assholes here, but sometimes they just kept on reminding you of it.

"And now I'm fooling around with one of the club members," you thought aloud. The realization hit you, a golf ball to the face. "Oh my god."

Chanhee's hand came up to your shoulder and gave you a soothing, warm squeeze. "Eric seems like a good guy, Yn-ie. You never know."

"But you really never know," you murmured. There was a reason why the club discouraged romantic relations between club members and staff. Perhaps this time, it wasn't about work productivity, but about keeping your damn jobs. You needed this job. You needed it so desperately because of the money, the opportunities, the connections. Not to mention all of the people you'd befriended here… it didn't seem right that you were scared of what Eric could do to you, but reality was settling in fast.

The Sohns were a major shareholder in the club, which meant they could pull strings like tying a shoelace.

But Eric is good. He's been good, you reasoned.

Changmin crossed his arms as he leaned back against the wall behind him. "You should talk to him. At the very least, you only went on one date, so it's not like you're completely involved yet."

That was a good point. You were going to run with it.

When Eric invited you over to his house, you should have known you were about to drive your beat up sedan into the driveway of a palace, not a house. A house was for normal people, not whoever the Sohns were, you knew that much. To say you were intimidated by the massive front lawn, iron gates, and limestone arches and columns would be an understatement. Maybe you should have worn something nicer.

You pulled up to the curb of the roundabout—he'd mentioned to you that you could just park there. Apparently the garage was a little inconvenient for guests, but you weren't complaining. The front of the house was a marvel to look at, and wherever that garage was would have left you unable to fully soak in this modern wonder. Plus, you had some time to pull yourself together before seeing Eric.

The plan was… no plan, really. He wanted to hang out with you, and you'd mentioned your love for cooking. Thus, he proposed a miniature cooking class in his kitchen, along with dinner on the patio. It sounded nice. It also sounded great when you remembered what you needed to talk to him about. (Yay.)

It's not a big deal. Eric's cool.

You finally managed to trek your way up to the front door and you booped the doorbell. It was one of those loud bells that must have echoed throughout the house, because you could clearly hear it from the outside.

A couple minutes later, you heard the locking mechanism come undone. The door opened after; you swore that every time you saw this guy, you became speechless.

You had seen him in a dress shirt before, but this tank top and over-shirt thing was new. It was casual and comfortable, yet chic. His hair was styled in the same manner his clothing was—simple and so attractive. A silver chain and matching silver rings added the subtle touch of elegance to pull everything together.

"Hi," he grinned—he was always smiling, you realized. It was such a pretty smile. He stepped aside and gave you room in the doorway. "Come on in, cutie."

"Thanks for having me over," you said pleasantly, trying not to openly gawk at the front foyer with the sky-high ceiling, chandelier dripping with crystals, and grand staircase wrapping around the walls up to the indoor balcony.

He closed the door behind you as you deposited your shoes by the small rack. Eric wrapped a loose arm around your shoulder to guide you through the foyer. "Of course! I'm so excited you're here; I went out—actually no, I…" he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "ordered it off that grocery app. I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for."

"Grocery app?" You laughed. "Are you talking about the stuff for dinner?"

"Yeah!"

The two of you entered the kitchen. It was a wide, open space that flowed straight into the living room. The cabinets were smooth and snow white, accented with countertops marbled with black and hints of gold. Though clean, it was a space well-loved with a recipe book left open to a lobster risotto; little candies left in a jar on the island labeled with chalk; barstools that weren't quite aligned, like they'd actually been sat on. The living room, too, was beautiful. Massive, but beautiful, with a wraparound couch sectional and a flat screen with family photos hung above it. It was framed by shelves filled to the brim with CD and DVD cases, more family photos, books, and little baubles.

And the lighting. Oh man, the natural lighting from the windows making up the entire back wall… it led out onto the acres of land his family owned, as well as a patio that overlooked the valley.

Eric had mentioned dinner on the patio. If your math was right, that meant you would probably be dining at sunset, all while overlooking a splendid view—how romantic. God, you hated how giddy you were starting to get. Those butterflies in your stomach would not cease.

"You have a really, really beautiful home," you murmured, letting him take your bag from you to place on one of the barstools.

You had always thought that big houses like this would be so difficult to fill. What was one supposed to do with so much space anyway? From the pictures on the wall, you could see Eric's parents, himself, as well as a sister who must have been out making her own mark on the world in that special Sohn kind of way. Even with just four people in this place… they still managed to make it feel like a home and not a house. It was like your own house back in your hometown, across the country. It was lived-in and warm and yours, and that was the beauty of it. And you were certain by just looking at this place that the Sohns were a family who loved each other.

How could you not believe in Eric? Not with all of this to vouch for him? He had grown up loved.

"Thank you," he said. "It's one of my favorite places to be. That's why I still haunt it like a ghost," he joked. He placed a warm hand on the small of your back and led you over to the fridge where he had put all of the grocery delivery bags in. Even the fridge was relatively stocked. "Not sure if everything I got was right, but hopefully it'll all turn out delicious anyway."

You helped him unload the bags onto the kitchen island, raising a brow at the labels on the groceries. They were on the higher end of price and quality, which definitely wasn't a problem, but holding a hundred dollar bottle of red wine just for sauce was making your anxiety levels spike. "Oh, no. It all looks great, Eric. Thanks for getting these, by the way. I would have gone out and brought them here, but—"

He waved away your worries. "You're busy and you're working. Plus, it lets me technically pay for dinner," he said with a cheeky look on his face and gesturing with a finger gun. It was cute. He was cute.

"Smooth, Sohn. I see you."

"That's what they called me in high school," he played along, dancing on his toes behind you to fiddle with his phone and turn on a speaker somewhere (you didn't know where). "Smooth Sohn."

You snorted, slapping a hand over your mouth. Eric's eyes glittered with a mutual mirth. "Whatever you say, honey."

He waltzed back over to you, tongue in cheek. "I like that better though—honey." He leaned back against the counter next to you and watched as you sorted out the ingredients in different piles depending on how they should be prepped. "So what's the plan, chef? You're the boss."

"I'd love to know where your knives and cutting boards are," you said.

He leapt into action. "Say no more!"

In reality, you did have to say more. It wasn't that Eric didn't know where everything was in the kitchen, he just wasn't as well versed in using the kitchen. He'd told you while teaching him how to hold a knife properly that he really only came in here for ramen. Good news was he could crack an egg with one hand; bad news was that was about all he could do. It was still charming, nonetheless. And the cute cooking lesson gave him plenty of opportunity to get close to you.

He had even insisted on you teaching him how to chop carrots like how he had taught you how to swing a golf club—over and around him—with your hands over his and your body wrapped around his, your chin on his shoulder.

But with dinner well past done, the two of you made your way out onto the patio just as the sun was sinking into the embrace of the valley below. It melted into the sky like a broken yolk, saturated and golden. He let you have the seat staring out into the valley. The way he looked at you though, made you feel like you were his million dollar valley view.

The table was set with twin glasses of red wine (amazing what a good wine paired with beef stew could do for the soul), plates separated by a hot stew pot, and a couple of candles for ambiance.

"Wow," he moaned as the beef melted on his tongue. "This is so good. And you're telling me you're pretty, smart, and can cook?"

You held back a giggle so you could swallow your bite. "And I'm single," you jested.

"And you're single!" He leaned his head back, eyes closed. "Thank god for that."

Eric leaned his cheek on his fist, his head cocked slightly and his eyes on you with a swoon-worthy admiration. "Thanks for coming out tonight and hanging out with me."

You could kiss him. "Please, I should be the one thanking you. It's been really fun hanging out with you." It was surreal, actually. The fact that this young heir had deemed you "worthy" or whatever to court and entertain—it wasn't like you defined your self worth by his attention and affection, but this felt nice. Your conversation with Changmin and Chanhee the other day came to the forefront of your mind.

"I, uhm, think this is a good time to ask if you wanted to do this more often? Hanging out with me, I mean."

You weren't sure if this was what you thought he was asking you. He reached for his wine glass, and in the fading sunlight and the candlelight illuminating the bashful expression on his face, your heart pounded.

"What I mean to say," he tried again after a small sip of wine, "is would you be my—"

"I think we should talk!" You cut in before you heard anymore. You were getting jittery, unable to figure out when was the right time to bring up the thing, but also, you wanted him to say his thing, and it was just a mess. But when you saw Eric's wide eyes, mouth zipped up, you repeated in a much calmer tone, "I think we should talk about something. It's not… it's not super serious or anything. I could just be overthinking."

Oh, you felt bad. He looked like a kicked puppy, but you saw him pull himself together for you. "It's—you're probably not overthinking, Yn. What's on your mind?"

The wine glass was put down. He even put his fork down.

Were you making a big deal out of this? Probably not, right? This was important, you reminded yourself. You pursed your lips. "So one of my coworkers—former coworkers," you amended, "Clara. Her name's Clara. She and this guy you might know, Brian Yang…"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know of him."

"Well, they kind of had this thing going on between them. And the other day, she was fired because they broke up and he thought it was too weird that she was working where he was hanging out all the time," you rambled on. "And I uhm, I just wanted to make sure from the get-go that… you know… it's stupid, I don't know. But it's my job, y'know? And—and I need this job, but I like you a lot, Eric. Am I making any sense?"

Neither of you were eating anymore.

You looked at him, hopelessly, searching for signs of understanding.

He leaned in slightly and reached for your hands over the table. "Yn, sweetheart," he said, lacing his fingers with yours over the pot of beef stew, "that is a valid point to bring up, and I can understand what you're probably thinking. That—that news must have been scary, or at least nerve-racking, and Brian's a dick for that—"

You nodded, swallowing.

"—and I don't want you to risk your job because of me," he said earnestly. "But I really want to see where this goes, you know? If anything happens and you don't feel the same way, then no harm, no foul. I'm not gonna take my emotions out on you like that asshole; that's not right."

The breath you had been holding in fell from your mouth, a wave of relief. A sappy, grateful sort of smile worked its way onto your mouth and you met Eric's own kind expression. "You are actually perfect," you let out a breathy laugh. "Where have you been all my life?"

He grinned. "Funny, that's what I've been thinking about you." Eric set your laced hands on the side of the table as he raised his glass to you. "So what do you say? Can we try this?"

You lifted your glass to gently clink it with his. "Let's do it."

"So he's perfect, but he hasn't kissed you yet?" Chanhee's gasp of incredulity hit you in a gust of air. His lips pursed like a penguin's beak. "Figures."

You sent him a look. "Oh, please. Figures what? He's just being… I dunno, chivalrous!"

"Chivalry is dead," Haknyeon snickered as he waltzed by you with fresh towels to lay out by the pool. "You should make the move, Yn."

"So you two are, like, dating now?" Asked Changmin as he hopped onto the tiki bar stool next to you and Chanhee. He kept on glancing down at his watch; he must have only a small break in between his dance classes today.

"They're 'seeing where things go,'" mocked Jacob with a shake of his head. He swirled a rag around the innards of a glass to dry it.

You sent them all dirty looks now. "Cobie, out of all the times you choose to be an imp—"

"An imp," Chanhee muttered, glancing away as he took a sip of his piña colada, "I'm dead."

"If it makes you feel better, Yn, I'm supervising a tennis match with him and the Lee cousins later today. I can get a feel of where his mind's at," Jacob offered.

You drummed your fingers against the bar. The offer was tempting… "It's fine," you insisted. "We don't have to rush things. We go to the same university and we live in the same city now. It's not like we don't have time… right?"

"Riiiight," Changmin drawled with an over exaggerated wink. He frowned at his watch, hopping off his stool. "Damn it, salsa class time. Catch you losers later!"

As he darted off into the distance, Chanhee sniffed. "Says the loser." He plucked the pink umbrella out of his drink and set the decoration down on his napkin. "You're not wrong, Yn-ie. Taking it slow isn't a bad thing. From what you told us, it seems like you're both on the same page now anyway."

"Thank you," you said.

"Maybe he's trying to plan a romantic moment." Haknyeon rejoined the conversation now that he had done his towel delivery.

Jacob nodded with an approving turn of his lips. "You might be onto something. He seems the type."

Your heart was fluttering as if it sprouted butterfly wings. Oh, the thought of kissing Eric Sohn in romantic lighting…

"I think you should take her back to her job before she drifts fully into La La Land." When you snapped back to reality, Jacob's eyes were twinkling, eyebrows wagging.

Haknyeon nudged you with the back of his hand and nodded up to the clubhouse. "C'mon, Yn-ie. I think Manager Kim wants to brief us on dinner service anyway."

Hours later, Jacob found himself on the tennis courts, overseeing a match between the three Lee cousins—Sangyeon, Hyunjae, and Juyeon—and Eric. He often thought it was luck that got him to land this job where all he did to pass the day was make drinks, drive golf carts, and occasionally play doubles with club members. For all that it was, he considered himself very content.

"—that was a foul," Jacob declared, jogging to go catch the tennis ball before it bounded into the bushes.

Hyunjae let out a groan. "Nooo! It hit the line. Jacob, please, I thought we were cool!"

Sangyeon shook his head, smiling as he caught the tennis ball from Jacob with his free hand. "Hyunjae, we all know your eyesight is shit."

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. "Hey! No one asked."

"Can we take a break?" Juyeon asked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "I think I need some water."

The boys all murmured their agreement, and Jacob reached down into the mini cooler he'd lugged out to toss them ice cold bottles of water. It was just one of the few perks that came with the club membership.

While Sangyeon and Hyunjae were bickering about eyesight and foul lines, Juyeon settled into a seat by them to referee. Eric sidled up next to Jacob as they both absentmindedly watched the chaos unfold from afar.

Jacob whistled. "So… Yn said she had a really good time with you the other night."

Eric perked up at the sound of your name. "She did? Well that's a relief to hear."

"It wasn't clear?" Jacob asked, face tilted in question. "I mean, not to completely expose her or anything, but she's been gushing about you all day, man."

A giddy smile took over the youngest Sohn's face. "She was?" He licked his lips, drawing the pad of his thumb over the corner of his mouth to catch the water that had dribbled from the bottle. "She's—she's so cute, hyung. Like, I don't know if this is weird for you because you're friends—"

Jacob coughed in amusement. "It's fine. Think of me as your guardian angel."

"Right," Eric piped up. "I think… I think we really hit it off, y'know? And I mean, she probably told you we just kind of had dinner and she had to leave, but she'd come after work, so she was probably tired and—"

Ohhh. Jacob understood exactly what was going on now. His heart warmed at the thought that Eric was being so considerate and not forcing you to stay. He was thinking about your long day, and didn't wish to prolong it anymore. Little did he know, you probably wouldn't have minded hanging around a tad longer.

"—I wanted to kiss her—"

Wait huh. Jacob tuned back in. "When?"

Eric blinked. "Uhm, at dinner. Or at least, when I was walking her out to her car." He glanced away and his smile softened at the thought. "I wish I had, actually. The moment was right there, and the lighting was perfect, and her smile—oh my god, her smile."

Jacob's eyebrows flew up to his hairline. So this was where Eric's mind was at; good to know. "Then do it—kiss her."

"Right now?"

"No! Not right now—"

"Hey, you guys ready to play again?" Juyeon called. The three Lees had already maneuvered themselves back to court.

Eric and Jacob exchanged glances. This conversation wasn't over, Jacob's look seemed to say.

They nodded to their companions, though. "Yeah, we're ready."

It did not come as a surprise to you when you found out Eric had a home theater in his basement. It was something like you'd pictured from the movies, the ones with the rows of dark leather armchairs, deep cup holders, and a giant screen and surround sound system. The foot of the theater room even had a little snack station to make popcorn, and a mini fridge stocked with drinks.

You and Eric shared the couch on the bottom floor that was big enough for the two of you. It was a random Tuesday, and you didn't have work today, so he'd suggested swinging by and hanging out with him for the day. You couldn't possibly refuse.

Eric scrolled through the movie options on the screen with the remote. "Are you sure you don't want any popcorn?" He asked you.

You shook your head. "I'm good, really. But it sounds like you want popcorn, Eric."

He caught his tongue in his smile. "Maybe."

If you weren't supposed to be watching a movie, you would have gladly curled up on that couch and stared at him for the rest of time. His jawline was enough to make a girl go mad, and the fact that he was just so sweet, too—

"How about this one?"

You snapped out of it, barely flicking your gaze back over to the screen in time to avoid him finding out that you were just blatantly staring. "Uhh, sure. I haven't seen this one, actually."

"Really? Oh my god, we have to watch it then." And so you did.

It was about halfway into the movie that you realized there was a draft coming down on you—the air conditioning in this room was awfully high, but you didn't want to say anything. You hiked your legs up onto the couch and hugged your arms, leaning back slightly against the quilt draped over the back of the couch. (How conveniently placed…)

Eric saw your movement from the corner of his eye. "You cold? We can share the blanket."

"My hero," you joked as he removed the quilt from behind your heads and draped it over your laps.

Because the article wasn't exactly miles long, you and Eric had to shift over closer to each other. Not that you were complaining. The arm and leg pressed against yours were warm, and it gave him the perfect opportunity to raise his arm and place it over the back of the couch behind you.

As you both watched the rest of the movie, you gradually let yourself lean into him, and his arm eventually fell to rest directly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

"I always liked the ending of this movie," Eric murmured softly to you as the credits rolled. He brushed his fingers along your arm in a warm, soothing manner. "What'd you think?"

You stayed with your head tucked onto his shoulder. "Hmm, not bad. I think they could have cut the romance though."

"Ah, I see your point," he said. "Sometimes directors just like to force it for the sake of a subplot."

"Wholeheartedly agree."

His fingers danced up to your shoulder and began playing with your hair. He pursed his lips. "Are you a fan of romance movies? That's kind of a random question, I guess."

"Not really—a random question, I mean," you said, and pulled your head off of his shoulder to face him. The thought occurred to you of how close your bodies and your faces were, sharing warmth and skin. You saw his eyes dart down away from yours for a split second. "I like romance movies. I think they restore my faith in humanity," you mused. "You?"

"I like 'em, too." He released a small exhale, an almost-shy smile etching itself onto his face. "Most of them are just… feel-good movies. They're really sweet, and I've always kind of wanted something like that."

"High standards," you whispered, though playfully. "Wouldn't we all like something from the movies?" To you, this was what the movies were like—"handsome guy sweeps girl off her feet, and he's perfect and she's happy." You were already living out your too-good-to-be-true dreams.

He laughed. "True. I think it's just a matter of waiting for the right person to come along, maybe. And following through."

You bit the bait. "Following through?"

"Backing up your initial swing," he clarified. "Something to drive the ball home and make sure you mean it. I feel like maybe that's what people forget about romance—that there's still an after, beyond happily ever after."

Wow. "Your brain," you praised. "That was actual poetry, I think. Is this how you get girls?"

He bit his lip through a smile, leaning closer. "Only one girl. I hope it's working."

"I think it's working a little too well," you admitted, voice barely audible now.

You could feel the warmth of his breath fan over your lips as he came closer, about ninety-percent of the way; the other ten percent was left for you to either push forward or pull back. He was giving you the decision on a gold platter.

And who could deny something served so beautifully?

You closed the gap between you and pressed your lips against his. It was soft, at first, as the nerves in your brain and your vital organs threatened to go haywire. You breathed him in, your noses slotting against each other. He cupped the back of your head with his free hand, the other curling around your waist.

When you broke apart, it was for a split second, until he was kissing you again. You were half in his lap at this point, your legs draped over his, your side pressed to his chest.

Foreheads pressed together, you shared a breath of air with him. He nuzzled his nose against you as if unable to be so far from you. "Be mine," he said, simple at first. Then, "Please."

You smiled against him and felt his mouth do the same. "Only if you'll be mine, too."

"As if I would say no," he laughed, leaning in again, and crushing his mouth to yours. The theater room filled with both of your giggles as you fell backward.

If this was the happily ever after, then you would gladly follow through.

a/n: to anyone who read flight risk, i just redeemed myself from valentine's day

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @kflixnet

#kflixnet #bjnet #deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #eric sohn x reader #sohn youngjae x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz oneshot #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #eric sohn drabbles #eric sohn oneshots #eric sohn imagines #eric sohn scenarios #eric sohn fluff #the boyz fanfic #dbn: summer on you

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obsessedelusional · 6 months

Text

the new recruit

paring ✦ Abby Anderson x fem!reader

summary ✦ You’re the new WLF recruit. Isaac makes it Abby’s responsibility to get you situated. Letting the both of you know, you’d be patrol partners and roommates. Abby’s immediate dislike for you is obvious. You don’t let that stop you from trying to get closer.

word count ✦ 3.3k

authors note ✦ Bro I have so much Abby content in the works I love this women with my whole heart (I need her) anyways… hope y’all enjoy

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Abby was sat alone in her room, when there was a knock at door. She lets who ever is outside know they can come in. To her surprise it was Isaac, followed by an unfamiliar face. You’re stood there behind him, listening to him talk. Abby half hears what Isaac has to say, too busy admiring you. You’re blissfully unaware nodding along to Isaac’s instructions.

“This is our newest recruit. We picked her up on the north side of town. Her name is Y/N.” Isaac explains, you smile at Abby waving slightly when he introduces you. Abby smiles back, pretending to not look too interested.

“I want you to introduce her to everyone, get her situated. She’s going to be your roommate. Oh and you two will be patrolling together.” Isaac talks, before saying his goodbyes and leaving the two of you alone. Once he’s gone Abby continues to look at the new recruit, pretending to size you up when in reality she’s just checking you out.

Abby thinks you’re gorgeous. Too gorgeous. In the way that everyone’s eyes are gonna be on you. The thought made Abby’s heart sink, quickly pushing that away. She has a feeling that the guys at the base we’re going to be swooning over you, fighting for your attention. Abby didn’t want that but she’d never do anything to stop it. She’s just Abby after all, she thinks and you’re you. You’re drop dead gorgeous.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You finally speak, making Abby realize she was staring too long.

“It’s...nice...to meet you too,” she forces out. Deciding she should be nice enough to you, considering how much time you’ll be spending together. Co-workers and roommate. Abby turns her back to you.

—

The next few days seemed to be filled with awkwardness between the two of you. Your many attempts at being friendly with Abby always shut down. Abby was determined to be nothing more than your superior, teach you everything you need to know. That’s it.

She slowly started to grow a dislike for you. Abby felt as if she was being constantly outdone by you. With the way you laughed, walked, talked. Every little detail about you was perfect. Abby couldn’t tell if she was attracted to you or if she felt inferior. Or both?

One thing that Abby could not deny - you were a nice girl. You were friendly and tried to strike up conversations with her. But Abby never was in the mood to make a new friend. Pushing you away every chance she got. Growing irritated watching you fit in so easily with everyone on base. Making friends so simply. Something Abby struggled with. You ignore Abby’s constant criticism and shutting you down, trying everything to get her to open up.

“Hey Abby.” You smile, entering your shared room. Abby pretended as if she didn’t hear anything. Didn’t matter because you were now standing next to Abby’s desk inches away from her.

“What?” she asked finally, annoyed.

“Just came to see how you’re doing?” You ask, smiling.

“Just fine.” She stared at you blankly, a slight scowl on her face as she prays for you to leave. She had no intention of allowing you into her life anymore than she already had.

“Do you wanna get lunch together?” You ask, ignoring her obvious distaste for you. You watch as Abby thinks about it for a moment.

Abby rolled her eyes and looked up at you. “You know what, why not.”

“Cool.” You smile, leaving the room hoping that Abby would follow. She does.

As the two of you walk towards the mess hall. It was clear that Abby was not exactly thrilled to be there. Abby didn’t want to make friends, she barely wanted to be in your presence as it was. However, you were going to be living together, so she figured she may as well at least get to know you. Even if it pained her.

You both entered the mess hall together. You grab a plate of food for yourself as you scanned the hall. You take notice that nearly every soldier’s head turned towards them as you both walked in.

Abby could instantly tell that they all thought of you as the new chick on base. All desperate for a piece of your attention. The same couldn’t be said for Abby. She had been here since the war with the Scars started. Being the way she was, she often was alone going unnoticed.

You decide to sit at an empty table, wanting to give Abby you’re full attention. Hoping that made she’d talk to you about anything at this point. Abby slowly walked to the empty table and sat next to you. She did her best to contain her scowl as she took a seat next to you.

“Let me just say, I’m not one for small talk,” she said bluntly crushing your dreams of connecting to her. But you’re persistent, to the point of be annoying sometimes so you press the issue.

“Why not?” You ask. Abby stayed quiet for some time. For a moment, she considered not even answering.

“I prefer to focus on what I have to do rather than waste time on pointless conversations.” She sighs, as if the question was ridiculous. She takes a bite of her food when she’s done speaking.

“So what do you enjoy doing around here?” You ask, completely disregarding her obvious unwillingness to talk.

“Oh, I enjoy plenty of things. I enjoy being out on patrol and coming back exhausted but knowing that I did a good job. I enjoy the food these cooks prepare for us.” Abby said dryly.

“Is that all you enjoy? Do you ever do anything fun?” You ask, feeling bad for Abby’s sad outlook on life. Abby stayed silent as she thought about your question.

“Fun? Fun is not something that soldiers need to think about.” Abby responds. She was not against having some fun. But the idea of having fun in the middle of a warzone was completely foreign to her. She’d spent years trying to keep her mind on the mission and not get distracted by the little things.

“That’s not true at all. The other soldiers think about having fun. They’re having a party tonight. That’ll be fun.” You respond.

“A party?” She asks her tone filled with curiosity.

“Yeah. Like people getting together to drink, dance and talk. You should come.” You explain before extending the invitation.

Abby stayed quiet for a moment, her curiosity growing by the second. Manny and the other soldiers had metioned parties before but she never cared to go. But now that she had actually been invited by you, she seemed to be reconsidering her thoughts.

“I’ll come,” she finally spoke.

“It’ll be so fun.” You smile before telling her when and where the party would be at.

—

Soon, it was time for the party, and Abby found herself standing outside of the room where it was supposed to take place. She had taken her hair out of the braid she wore every day, letting it flow free. Wearing something other than her typical WLF uniform. She spent way too long deciding what to wear. Unsure what one even wears to a party. Only to end up wear jeans and a simple tshirt, hoping it was good enough.

Abby walked inside the room, already getting looks from nearly everyone there. Because no one was used to seeing her in this type of environment. Sure she was invited to every party before this but she never showed.

One person, however, caught her eye. You were standing near the food table. You were talking to several guys, each of which seemed to be hanging on your every word. She can’t control the eye roll that follows, seeing you surrounded by those men.

You look up from the conversation and your eyes meet Abby’s, you smile noticing her. She instantly felt that she had made a mistake by coming to this party. Abby walked through the crowd awkwardly, making her way towards you.

“Abby I’m so glad you came.” You smile grabbing Abby’s hand and walking away from the group of men. Using her arrival as the perfect excuse to get away from them.

Abby followed after you, her heart pounding heavily. You seemed to be in her element at this party, and it was clear that you was enjoying herself. As she looked around, it made Abby realize that she, on the other hand, was not having a good time. Thinking that the two of you couldn’t be more different.

“Thanks for the invite,” Abby finally says, trying to stay positive for your sake.

“I really am glad you showed up.” You respond.

“Thanks,” she says flatly. Abby forced a smile to her face, but she was unable to hide her awkwardness.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.” Abby nods, “Whatever you’re having.” She was not a social person, and being in such a crowded space with everyone looking at her was making her feel incredibly uncomfortable. Wondering if they were looking at her or you? Or both? Probably wondering what you could possibly be doing here with Abby.

Her thoughts are cut short, when you hand her a drink. Not really sure what to do she takes a long swig, not liking the taste whatsoever. She looks around the room, everyone around her was laughing, dancing and having a good time. Yet, Abby still felt like this was the worst day of her life.

“You look miserable.” You tease, taking a sip out of your drink.

“I’m great. I’m having a fantastic time.” Abby fibs, not even trying to hide her lies. Her tone heavy with sarcasm.

She takes an unnecessarily large swig out of her drink. She was not sure how to act in front of these people at a party and it was stressing her out. She thinks about how you two seemed to be the polar opposite. You seemed to be the popular girl around here. Everyone was obsessed with you. Yet for some odd reason you were stood here with with Abby. She wonders why.

“You wanna dance?” You ask, interrupting Abby’s thoughts.

Abby had never danced in her life. In fact, for her entire life she had thought that dancing was a complete waste of time. But, now she realized that it was something she needed to do in order to at least pretend that she was enjoying herself. Or maybe it was the liquor in her system giving her a little confidence.

“Sure,” she finally spoke after what felt like an eternity.

Abby finished her drink and handed the empty cup to you. Then, she made her way to the dance floor. She looked back at you, waiting for you to join her. You quickly finish your drink, toss the evidence and follow Abby out onto the dance floor.

Abby awkwardly started dancing. The people around her seemed to be dancing with great enthusiasm, but she wasn’t able to do so. Her face was completely blank and even with you standing next to her, she didn’t know what to do.

She was always used to having the most strict routine in her life, always something she had to do. Dancing was just a waste of time in her eyes, and she had no idea why anyone would ever want to do it. She kept dancing, however, as she wanted to impress you at least a little bit.

You can’t help but laugh at Abby’s stiff dancing, so you grab her hands and move her around a little more freely. Abby felt her heart flutter for a moment as you grab her. It was a feeling that she hadn’t experienced before, and despite wanting to keep things strictly professional, she felt herself wanting more. As you continue dancing with Abby she starts feeling a lot more comfortable.

“See you’re a natural.” You laugh, as Abby starts to let loose a little.

Abby looked at you as you talked. She was actually having fun and it was all thanks to you. Abby was now even thinking about how she may of misjudged the new girl in her life.

“Yeah,” Abby replied, her heart beating quickly. “I guess you’re right.”

The upbeat song comes to and end and is followed up by a slow song. You and Abby look at each other momentarily both of you could sense the chemistry changing between you two. As the song starts, you move closer to Abby. Wrapping your arms around her shoulder, looking at Abby intently as you two start swaying back and forth slowly.

Abby’s hands naturally travel to your waist, eagerly pulling you closer. You were a lot closer to her than you have ever been before, causing Abby’s heart to beat even faster. Abby had hardly any experience with flirting or dancing, but everything about this felt right.

As she stared into your eyes, she suddenly had the urge to lean in and give you a kiss. But she doesn’t, knowing that it would be inappropriate due to the fact that she was your superior. You rest your head on her shoulder, dancing close together.

Abby’s heart was beating so quickly that she felt like it would beat out of her chest any second. Abby felt like her relationship with you was changing in more ways than one. She no longer hated you. Instead, she thought she might even like you. She can’t help but feel like maybe those thought had been here all along and was just now coming to the surface. Just for a moment Abby’s problems in life seemed to be far away. All she cared about was you and the way that you made her feel.

“You’re actually pretty good at this.” You tease, whispering in Abby’s ear. Abby suddenly could feel herself blushing. She could feel your warm breath on her ear.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Abby replies. Your only response is to laugh, resuming the resting position on Abby’s shoulder.

Abby was lost in thought. She didn’t want to leave this moment. She knew that she wouldn’t get an opportunity like this again, and she finally understood why Manny was constantly trying to get a girlfriend. She could see why people sought out romance.

“I’ve actually never danced before,” Abby finally speaks.

“Why’s that?” You ask.

“Because I thought it was stupid and a waste of time. There was no point in dancing when I could be spending my time doing something productive.” Abby admits. It was so strange to say those words out loud. But, it was the truth and Abby didn’t want to hide anything anymore. She was tired of hiding who she was. Especially around you.

“Do you still think that?” You ask, lifting your head to look at her.

“No.” Abby’s answers quick. “I’m so glad you invited me tonight.”

“Me too.” You smile.

Abby couldn’t help but smile back. She felt a sense of warmth that she hadn’t ever felt before. She was completely out of her element, but that didn’t seem to matter at that moment. She only cared about how you were making her feel in this moment.

The two of you were completely wrapped up in the moment that when the music stopped, the reality of the world around you came crashing down. Abby couldn’t come up with something to say or what to do. Too caught up in the moment they both shared and not wanting it to end so soon.

“Do you want to get another drink?” You suggest, breaking the silence.

“Okay,” Abby said with a nod. She could help but want to be alone with you. She lets you lead her back to the kitchen where the drinks are. She watches and you dig through the ice chest, pulling out two drinks. Abby takes a sip, it tastes better the second time around.

“So…what should we do next?” Abby asks, feeling extremely lame as it comes out. Not sure how to keep this going but not wanting it to end yet.

“I don’t know. You have something in mind?” You ask with a smile, taking a sip.

“Uhhhh…I…guess…we…” Abby suddenly felt herself turn red as she tried to think of something. She didn’t want to leave your side. She wanted to get you alone but also didn’t want to go back to the room because it would be too awkward there.

Abby can’t get an answer out, your stood there patiently waiting. When a man fills the gap between you two, obviously drunk. The sigh that leaves your mouth is loud.

“Hey, I was just wondering if you wanted to comeback to my bunk?” He smiles, slurring reeking of beer. Moving way too close. Abby watches as the man approaches you and tries to flirt with you. Curious how’d you would react.

“No thank you.” You snap, pushing him away. Causing Abby to chuckle at the sight.

“Whatever fuck you.” He laughs stumbling away. You roll your eyes as he walks off. Abby admired the way you handled that, your ability to shut him down so effortlessly.

When you finally look back at Abby shes already staring at you. She wanted to get closer, to kiss you, and to express to her how deeply she felt so suddenly. But, that wasn’t appropriate given the fact that both of them were soldiers. Abby was starting to feel frustrated with herself. For caring about whatever everyone else thinks even at expense of what she wants.

“What are you thinking about?” You tease, moving a little closer grabbing Abby’s hand. Noticing Abby deep in thought as she looks at you.

She didn’t know how to respond. Scared to say out-loud how she truly felt. Instead, she just continued to stare at you. She was completely and utterly enthralled. She continued to hold your hand, hoping that her feelings would be transmitted through touch. You gaze goes from her eyes, to where your hands meet, and land on her lips. Darting back up to her eyes when she notices you looking at her lips.

Abby’s heart almost skipped a beat as your eyes focused on her lips. She could feel a heat rising throughout her whole body. She slowly leans in towards you. Slowly Abby closes the gap between you two, pressing her lips to yours. The feeling sent shivers down her spine and her heart raced even faster than it did before. She hadn’t felt this way in her entire life. She was completely and utterly lost in the sensation of your touch.

Your hands move to her head, pulling her in closer. Abby melted at the feeling of your warm hands on her face. She was completely lost in the moment, completely unaware of everything else. Everyone watching. She was too lost in the moment to realize. You’re the one to pull away, smiling as you do.

“Is that what you were thinking about?” You ask with a smirk. Abby hesitated before she finally spoke up.

“Yeah…that was actually what I was thinking about,” she quietly responded. The music starts again, you don’t even ask this time dragging about back out to the dance floor. The two of you start dancing again, only this time more touchy than before. Kisses shared between the two of you, every so often.

Every time your lips met, Abby felt a wave of emotions course through her body and her stomach would flip. She felt completely and utterly happy, completely consumed by the feeling of your lips on hers. Thrilled to spend the rest of the night with you, do whatever you wanted. She felt a little worried but excited because she realized quickly she’s probably going to spend the rest of her life letting you do whatever you want.

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #the last of us #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us 2

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billthedrake · 8 months

Text

This one I started a few months ago but didn’t get too far yet. It started off as a spinoff of Dads I’d Like to Fuck and took on a life of its own.

THE SPORTS ILLUSTRATED JINX

Doing that cover was how I met my partner, my first one at least.

The Sports Illustrated issue had just dropped. A big cover photo of me, looking serious and posting with my bat, and the words "Miracle Worker" in big letters over my image. I was winding down my rookie season in the majors at the age of 21 and had exceeded high expectations. Life was good.

"Don't pay any attention to that jinx business," a man said as I was out a high-end steakhouse after a game, enjoying a drink in the bar area. "It's all bullshit."

The man was my type to a T. Late 40s, sturdy build, some gray in his medium-length hair, masculine dad-next-door looks. I am often guarded in public, but I gave him a big smile.

"Yeah?" I asked. "I sure hope so."

This man had an easy way about him. Confident, but not overly so. "It's definitely BS," he added. "Look at Trout. Didn't hurt his career one bit." His blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he talked, and I had to wonder if I was reading too much interest in them. Sexual interest. "But you don't need me to tell ya that, man."

I shrugged. "Well given how many people have brought up that fucking jinx," I said, "it's nice to hear a different point of view." I extended my hand. "Luke... nice to meet you." I mean, the guy clearly knew who I was, but I wanted to know who he was.

"Dan Ogle," he said, as he clasped my hand with an equally strong grip. In baseball you judge a man by his handshake. Dan was used to being judged. "It's an honor to meet you."

"You in the business?" I ventured.

"It shows?" he chuckled. "Yeah, I'm a scout. Was with the Orioles organization and now work independent."

"Smart move," I quipped. "The Orioles seem a mess lately."

"Ouch," he laughed harder. "That's tough, man." He gave my shoulder a friendly, gladhanding pat for a second. "Listen... I'm here to meet an agent buddy of mine..."

Something about his eye contact made me wonder if I could make a move. "Let me give you my number, Dan," I said.

The way his eyes lit up said I'd made the right call. Maybe he was just star struck. But I'd work that in my favor if it meant seeing more of that sun-weathered face and those sea-blue eyes. He pulled out his phone, and I told him my number.

****

The first drinks I grabbed with the guy was basically a date. We didn't call it that. But we made the usual small talk. Dan knew a lot more about me than I did about him. So I had him tell me his bio. He'd played in the majors a few years and got into the coaching side in some single-A team. Was frustrated by the lack of opportunities there so went into scouting. Was married once, no kids, divorced at 38.

I talked more about what it was like to be a star. Even if Dan Ogle was never a magazine-cover caliber player, he understood me. The benefits of being idolized and famous, and the drawbacks. I didn't talk about the latter with a lot of guys, but I felt I could with this pro-ball veteran.

Our eye contact got heavier as we talked. Like we knew what we were dancing around without coming out and saying it. Finally, I asked, "So, Dan... you able to be discreet?"

Without missing a beat he nodded. "Oh yeah. Absolutely." Those sea blue eyes staring back at me, with clear expectation.

"It's been a couple of months since I've gotten laid," I said, laying my cards on the table.

He let out a playful whistle. "Way too long, Luke."

"What about you?" I asked, finally nudging his knee under the bar. This was gonna happen, and I knew, and I was throwing hard in anticipation.

"About the same," he smirked.

"We should go fix that," I hissed.

"Now?" It wasn't a question of surprise. More, Dan was trying to read what was on my mind.

"If you're up for it... yeah, now." I knew my voice was getting that horny edge to it.

We settled up our check and I went over to Dan's hotel room. I wondered if we were going to have more conversation, maybe figure out what each other was into sexually. I was strictly top or into getting serviced. I normally got my way, but sometimes older guys think it should be the other way around.

But we didn't talk. Instead we met for a kiss as we rapidly stripped off our clothes. I'd barely unbuttoned my jeans when Dan crouched down in front of me, pawing my crotch and reaching in to pull out my cock.

"Damn, that's a big dick," he gasped. And then revealing he did not find that a problem in the least, the middle-aged ex-jock leaned forward and started sucking me.

"Holy shit!" I laughed. I wasn't 100% surprised Dan Ogle sucked cock. After all, I'd met up with older guys who liked to fool around. But I was surprised he was so into it, so good at it. He sucked me fast and hard, like it was his last cock ever. I didn't think that the almost rough sucking would feel good, but it was incredible. Those long fast mouth strokes and that heavy suction were gonna get me to nut, too soon.

"Ease up, man!" I gasped. "I'm almost cumming."

The veteran ex-jock spit out my prick and sucked in some air, as he swallowed that excess spit. "Yeah?" he teased, now hand stroking my bat. "What would be wrong with that?" The man was horny, and I loved how thrilled he seemed to be about sex. No hang ups whatsoever. That was a first for me, actually.

"Come on, man," I almost complained. "Let me at least feel up your body for a bit, you know... enjoy this some."

That took Ogle by surprise. I think he thought I'd just want to shut my eyes and use his mouth or something. Maybe that's what dudes like me had done before with him. Leaning back, he showed off his bare chest. "Didn't think you'd be into all this, man," he smiled.

"You have no fucking idea," I growled. I could unload my daddy issues on Dan later and tell him how I was wired for men over 40, but for now, I just wanted that physical contact with that more mature muscle. "Let's get on the bed," I urged.

I stripped off the rest of the way and ate up the way Dan's eyes feasted on my nakedness and my erect state. Maybe it was the ego boost he needed to strip down all the way and almost pose for me as he got on the bed. His body wasn't perfect but it was pretty damn nice. Strong muscle, just the right amount of hair, amazing legs. Dan had been a catcher back when he played.

His body felt hot to the touch when we embraced. He was a good kisser and seemed to get into the sensual, slow approach. I matched his speed, even as I was horny as fuck and leaking against his furry belly. We made out and rolled around some, and I ended up on top of him. Heart pounding against his chest and his strong grip feeling up my lat muscle.

When I pulled back from our lip lock the 40-something scout had need in his eye. "You wanna be in me, Luke?" he asked softly.

"Hell yes," I growled.

He smiled. "I got some lube in my bag in the bathroom, if you wanna get it. Rubbers if you want, too."

I hoisted my athletic body out of bed and went to get the stuff, my dick sticking straight out like a divining rod. The stuff was easy to find. Indeed next to the small lube bottle there were two foil packets. I loved that a man like Dan came prepared.

I didn't take a condom, though, and I could read Ogle's silent excitement as he saw me empty handed other than the lube. I flipped the cap and squirted the slickness onto my fingers as I got up on the bed. Any other time, I'd enjoy more foreplay and rim him out some. I loved eating ass, and an ex-catcher daddy would be one hell of a feast. But I needed to fuck.

He hissed at the first finger but the second went in like butter. Dan Ogle wasn't a slut bottom, but this wasn't his first rodeo. As I lined up my cock, I was excited to be topping such a hot guy. It was still sinking in that I was a lucky bastard.

"That's good," Dan said softly as I pushed in. His sea blues were looking up, and he was nodding slightly as I pushed on. I knew why. He was tight as fuck and he knew I wouldn't be able to read if he was good to go. Thankfully, he was.

"You have an amazing ass," I grunted as I bottomed out. He was hot and snug and his insides felt alive around my cock.

Dan was horned up, and his dick twitched on his furry belly. He had some love handles but otherwise was total DILF. "I can't believe you're here fucking me," he almost laughed.

I held my body steady for him, his legs on my shoulders. "You ever fantasize about me?"

"Didn't dream to," he admitted.

"But a player like me, right?" I nudged him mentally. "You always wanted to get nailed by a guy like me." That second part was now statement, not a question.

"Jesus," Dan growled, a deep belly growl. "Fuck yes."

"You got it, man," I said and just started fucking. Not hard, but it was a deep steady fuck and I was hung enough for him to feel it.

He stroked as I railed him then let go when he was getting too close.

"Go ahead," I urged. "I'm pretty close, too."

I watched him stroke and I watched his hand work up his pleasure in tandem with the internal stimulation I was giving him. Then I watched the 40-something ex-catcher spew his pearly white seed all over that gorgeous daddy fur.

"FUCK!" I grunted and felt my own cum rising up, all of a sudden. Two months was a long time between lays. I held his legs tightly and humped his ass with a couple of final fast strokes.

I was flush red and breathing fast as I came down. Dan laughed at me some, and I laughed with him. "I needed that, buddy," I said, giving his meaty chest a playful dual fist bump before I leaned back and slowly pulled out.

I had to watch the slight creampie in his hole before it shut back up. A conquest trophy.

"I could tell," Dan grinned as he lowered his legs and shook out the stiffness. "I don't normally like it missionary, but that was hot as fuck."

I grinned, plopping down on the bed. "It was."

Dan gave me one last look, like he still couldn't believe his luck and still couldn't believe this happened. I got that look a lot, and I always ate it up. "Gonna shower off," he announced.

He was back to normal when he got back. A little quiet, maybe moody. I didn't know his deal, but I wasn't gonna find out. I took a piss and got dressed.

"Take care, man," I said as I got ready to leave. He was on his phone, checking on texts or something.

He looked up. "Yeah. Have a good one."

I got the message. One time thing. OK by me. I was a player, a hunter, always onto the next lay. One time things were my MO.

Only the next morning I awoke to a text. Dan Ogle's text, sent fifteen minutes earlier. "I got an 11AM plane to catch. But maybe I can interest you in a morning BJ before I go?"

I texted him a thumbs up and my hotel and room number.

****

It's not as easy having groupie sex when you're into guys as when you're straight. But it happens for me far more than you'd imagine. I just have to be cautious with my approach, feel a guy out. The thing is, if a guy has a remote bi-curious streak, it's almost a sure thing that a star athlete will be able to exploit it. The star struck thing goes a long fucking way, and guys felt excited to be close to me. Even if only for an hour or a night, they were getting one-on-one Luke Fulton time.

My first groupie was when I was still in the minors. But I was clearly a top prospect in the farm system and come Spring Training I had a chance to practice and play with the big league guys.

I was gathering up my stuff after an afternoon game versus the Tigers when I saw him. A few of the guys would meet with fans after, but this man seemed to be waiting for me. He was very much a typical corporate looking dude. Medium height, golf shirt, golf tan, khaki shorts, ball cap, expensive watch, dad sneakers. Meaty dadbod build filling it all out and looking pretty good for a man in his 50s.

"Hi Luke," he said, polite but also forward. "Can I get your autograph?"

That was my first request for one, actually. I smiled. "Yeah?" I said, registering my surprise. "Um, sure."

I walked up and set down my bag. He handed me a pad and a pen. "You're gonna be the biggest star," he said, referencing the pro team name whose roster I was vying for. His gaze was on me, like he was trying to memorize the whole encounter for later. That was my first taste of groupies, the way they might not even be showing sexual interest but they clearly are into me and being around me.

"I'm not 21 yet," I reminded him.

"Well, I've been watching your progress. Ever since the draft." OK, Corporate Dude was one of THOSE fans.

"Who should I make this out to?" I asked, maintaining equally heavy eye contact. Corporate Daddy was good looking in a normal way, and that turned me on, too. He reminded me of the men in my hometown. I even flashed a wink, nothing too over the top, but doing as much flirting as I dared.

"Jim," he said. "God..." he continued as he watched me write my dedication and sign my name. "This is really cool."

I looked up and flashed my grin. "Isn't this what you come to Spring Training for?" I asked. "To meet the players?" Maybe I was starting to lay it on thick.

Jim was gung ho, though. "It's my second year here, but yeah... the chance to talk to you guys is incredible."

His eye contact was heavy and his wedding band made me think he wasn't the blabbing type. I still consider a band the best insurance when hitting on a guy. I took another paper out of that pad and wrote my number on it.

The man seemed embarrassed. "What's that for?" He asked.

Goddamnit. I guess I misjudged. "Never mind," I said, maybe a little curtly. After all, it wasn't any guy I gave my number. I started to grab the paper back.

He blushed, getting it, really getting. "Oh. That's cool, that's man. I'll keep it. If that's OK."

I nodded. "Just keep it private, OK?" I meant my number but also the fact that I'd given it to him.

"Oh yeah," he said.

I gave him one more wink and picked up my bag to walk back to the locker room.

It was an hour later when I got a text. "Hey. It's Jim. Thanks for giving me your number."

"Thanks for using it," I typed back. I was hanging out with some of the guys from the team, about to get some dinner.

I didn't hear back for a few minutes, then I got another text. "I don't normally do this kind of thing."

"It's cool man. I don't bite. No strings no expectations." I didn't have my mojo down, but I knew with a guy like this corporate dad you had to reassure him.

"What are you looking for?" I could almost sense his nervousness on his end.

"That's something better talked about in person," I wrote.

"Yeah," he acknowledged. Then "I'm around all week."

"Tonight?" I wrote. "9?"

"Yes."

He gave me his hotel info, which worked better. I was in a good mood when I showed up and gave a soft knock.

Jim had a nervous, naughty look as he ushered me in. "Hey..." he said as he shut the door behind me. "I shouldn't be doing this."

I got it. I'd met married men with misgivings before, but none as strong as this man's.

I paused and looked at him, giving him my best friendly expression. Giving him an out. "It's up to you, man. I'm not gonna pressure you."

He thought for a second. It was like I knew what he was thinking. Wondering if he'd ever get another chance at this. "I wanna," he replied.

"Cool," I said and stepped up to him. I'm used to seeing athletes and coaches all day, so sometimes a normal build like Jim's pales in comparison. But now that I was there, up close, he looked pretty damn fine. My hand touched his chest through his golf shirt and moved down to feel up his sides. I drew him closer to me, being forward now to claim a kiss off him.

He grunted as our lips met. I slipped my tongue forward and felt his excitement grow as his lips part and accepted it. We made out for a minute, which is the surest way to get my motor running. I was rock hard now, for sure.

I pulled back and examined his handsome face. "I guess I should have asked if you kissed," I said.

He exhaled a breath he'd been holding. "Yeah... that was my first kiss with a man, actually."

I cocked a grin. "Whaddya think?"

"'s pretty wild," he answered honestly. "But good."

My fingers now caressed his side, and I could sense he was getting majorly hard, too. "You done anything with a guy?" I needed to know where I stood.

He shook his head. "Back in college. You know some fooling around with fraternity brothers. A couple of blow jobs, that kind of thing."

I cocked my eyebrow. "You ever give one?"

Jim blushed some, making his reddish tan redder. "Yeah... it was years ago."

I pulled him closer to me, so he could feel my hardon against his own. "I'd very much enjoy getting one, man... if you're up for it." He was warming up to the idea, I could tell, but I wanted to head off any hesitation. "It's just us here. No one's gonna know."

"I don't know if I'm any good," he objected.

I moved my hand up and patted his shoulder. "Trust me, I'll love it." I didn't throw in a "pretty, please," but I was being as gradual and coaxing as I knew how to be. "Come on, why don't you sit on the bed?"

He nodded and stepped back from me. He was rock hard in his khaki shorts, which was a good sign. And as he settled on his hotel bed, his look was one of excitement more than nervousness.

I didn't want to spook him, but I was getting crazy horny. Jim was pushing my buttons big time. I stepped up till I stood about a foot in front of him. Then slowly, I undid my shorts and pulled out my boner.

Some guys comment on my size when they first see my endowment, but Jim just silently watched, eyes going wide.

"It's OK, bud," I assured him. "Just take what you feel comfortable with." I scooted closer so my hardon was an inch or so away from him. His licks were tentative, then less so. I could sense the novelty for him, and the thrill that came with that. I knew this was the last thing he expected to be doing on this trip.

"You've done this before, man," I urged. "You got this."

He nodded and then opened his lips to take me in. He bobbed up and down on a few inches. Jim wasn't lying. He wasn't any good at this. But I loved the feeling of his warm mouth and the wet tongue against my steel-hard dick. And I loved the rush of seeing this regular married daddy servicing me. I let him do his thing for a minute then spoke again.

"Feels nice," I encouraged him. Then, "Just suck me like you enjoy being sucked, man."

That seemed to make something click for him, and he adjusted his blowjob. Jim wasn't gonna be a pro cocksucker any time soon, but THIS was a lot better. He flenched when my hand touched his hair, but when he realized I was just gonna stroke his head in encouragement he relaxed back into it.

"Take your time, bud," I hissed, spreading my stance a little. "Takes me a good couple of minutes to work up a head of steam. But this feels awesome."

It did, and the physical sensations were starting to build up. But I also imagined this guy sucking dudes back home, showing off what he'd learned on me. That was the trigger that got me off.

"You better swallow, man," I growled. Mr. Easygoing was gone. I didn't want him pulling off. Maybe my fingers curled around the back of his head to keep him from retreating.

He grunted. Agreement, I guess. But he kept sucking as I spurted into his craw. I heard a choked sound, but it wasn't an actual choking. Mostly a grunt of excitement as he tasted, then swallowed, as fast I was pumping more sperm into his mouth and throat.

"Damn, that was nice," I hissed as I let go of his head and finally stepped back out of his sucking mouth.

"Did I do OK?" he asked, voice thick with my cum still. Something about that question was adorable and exciting both.

I smiled. "Fuck yea you did." I nodded down to his hard crotch. "You need to get off?"

He unzipped. Clearly, sucking me had worked him up. He spit into his palm and I watched him start pulling his pud. It wasn't gonna take him long, not from the excited look in his eyes and the fast fist motion. I stepped closer and let my dong sway in front of his face.

That got him going. "You got a great cock," he admitted.

"And you sucked it," I reminded him.

"Yes," he grunted, and like that he was cumming.

"That's it, man," I urged.

Our release complete, I stepped back and tucked back in as he wiped himself with a Kleenex. His mood shifted some.

"We good man?" I asked. He could have all the guilt pangs he wanted, but I didn't want a full-on freak out.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Thanks for that.... I'm gonna remember that for a long while."

"If you wanna make some more memories this week, you know where to reach me."

#drakestories

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avatar-anna · 1 year

Note

Hey I've had a rly rly bad day :( I'm about to breakdown down n trying to do things to distract myself.. would you mind writing a little fluffy blurb about h comforting reader ??? You don't hve to if you're busy :))

hey! i'm sorry you're having a bad day. here is the fluffiest blurb (w a little bit of angst bc reader has to be crying for some reason) enjoy! 💕💕💕

You never knew how little you put yourself first until today.

All your life you considered yourself a compassionate person. Reliable. Dependable. Someone friends and family could count on. And you liked being that person, you liked that you had a prominent role in the lives of the people you loved and cared for most.

And if carried over into your work life too. You were constantly working overtime, saying yes to projects that your boss or co-workers prefaced with, “I knew just the person to come to for this!” And that made you feel valued. Important.

Until today.

You were already behind on a project because one of your co-workers asked you for help with theirs, and without asking why, you agreed as usual. But your own was already kind of kicking your ass and you had a million other things going on outside of work that needed your attention. You really weren’t sure why you couldn’t say no this time. You had valid reasons, yet you still tacked on more work, more stress (and not more pay, either).

“Hey, Y/n, how we doing in here?” your boss said, knocking on the open door of your office.

“A little stressed, but what else is knew?” you said with a smile. It was your normal response, but this time there was a little edge to it you hadn’t expected.

Not even noticing, your boss moved on. “Good, good. I was wondering if I could ask a favor? Our partner office from Hong Kong is coming next week, and I thought who better to show them around than our hardest worker bee?”

He said it with a smile, like it was an honor to be asked such a thing, but all you could say in reply was, “Both of my projects are due next week.”

With a quick look around the room, you saw that you were one of the last ones in the big office space. Either your co-workers took their work home or didn’t have as much to do as you did, and for the first time, that irked you. Why couldn’t your boss ask any of them when you were clearly drowning in meetings and phone calls and spreadsheets and ten minute lunches?

“I know you’ll make it work,” he said, as if he hardly even heard your response. “So you’ll do it?”

“I...”

Tears sprung out of nowhere, perhaps the stress of a task you hadn’t even accepted already weighing down on you. There would be no time, no time for yourself, or anything or anyone other than work.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally said, hoping that your boss would ask someone else in the meantime.

“Well, I kind of need an answer now—”

“Then no, my answer is no,” you blurted, standing up from your desk to pack your things. “Not only can I not do it, I don’t want to do it. You have so many people that work here that could do this for you, and even though you knew I was up to my ears in work, you asked me anyway. So no. I will not be able to help you next week.”

Your boss floundered a bit. At your outburst, or that you said no, you weren’t sure. He probably hadn’t thought to ask anyone else, had just expected you to say yes. And that once would’ve made you proud, but now you absolutely despised that.

“Well, I mean, this might affect your promotion,” he said, a last stitch effort to get you to say yes.

Could he really not see you were on the verge of tears? Or that you were in the same clothes as yesterday because you fell asleep in your office last night? Or did he just not care?

That promotion was dangled over every project, every favor, every little thing you did at work. It was the reason you did so much. You worked hard, and you wanted a paycheck that validated that. But if your boss took one refusal as a reason for you to not get a promotion, when so many of your co-workers turned things down left and right, then...

“Fuck your promotion,” you said before you could filter your words, then hastily left your office, not bothering to look your boss in the eye.

Tears wanted to fall as you rode the elevator, as you got behind the wheel of your car, but you swallowed them down, pushing them away for later.

A minute into driving, your phone rang, your cousin’s name popping up on the screen on your car’s dash.

“Hey! How’s it going?”

You didn’t have it in you to be chipper. “I think I just lost my job.”

“Oh...Well that’s—Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug.

“Great! Well, I was just calling to ask if you and H have locked down a date for the wedding,” your cousin asked.

With a raised brow, you said, “We sent out save the dates three weeks ago.”

“Right, but my wife and I booked a cruise before you and Harry even got engaged, and our flight to get to port is on the same day as the wedding. You see where I’m going with this, right?”

You did, but you were so furious that you said, “I don’t, actually.” You needed him to say it, to admit what he was asking for.

“Well, you know, since we booked this cruise before you and H got engaged, we were wondering if you could change the date. Move it up or something.”

“Or something,” you said, voice completely devoid of emotion. What would that even mean?

Did you really accommodate so much that a family member was asking to move your literal wedding day for them? Did people really expect you to bend over backwards like that?

The answer was yes. You put so many people first, that you’d become the default, friends, families, co-workers were practically on autopilot when asking for favors, you doubted they even tried to come up with solutions themselves at this point.

“So tou’ll do it?”

You were surprised when you started laughing. Not a giggle, but a full-bellied laugh. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was the ludicrous favor your cousin just asked you, or maybe you’d finally snapped. Your cousin was still on the other line waiting. Because despite what clearly was a nervous breakdown, he was still expecting you to do this for him.

“Shove it up your ass and don’t bother coming to the wedding,” you said when your laughter subsided, then promptly hung up the phone.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Harry was on the couch when you got home, watching one of his crime shows he loved so much. He smiled when he saw you, the reaction almost involuntary, but it faltered when he got a better look.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, turning the TV off and coming over to you.

“Bad day. Really bad day,” was all you said, voice empty.

“I’m sorry, lovie. Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, and Harry took that as his cue to pull you in for a hug. He was much taller than you were, so you were completely engulfed in his soft sweater and the fresh scent of his cologne. You sighed, your shoulders sagging as he squeezed you, as if he was trying to wring all the stress and sadness out of you.

After a couple minutes, Harry let go, but only to look down at you. “So I’m thinking that as your fiance, I need to make you feel better.”

“Yeah?” you said, a small smile forming on your face. Harry seemed to be the only one who put you first, or realized when you needed a break.

“Yeah, which is great because I bought stuff at the store to make that dish you really love. The one with chicken and the red sauce? I just need a little help with—”

“You need help?” you asked, smile immediately turning into a frown. “Like a favor?”

Confused, Harry said, “Well, it’s not really a favor, I just need—”

“And I just need people to stop needing me! Why can’t anyone understand that? I give, and I give, and I give, and I never ask for anything in return, so people keep expecting me to give. Well, I have nothing to give anymore. I‘m—I’m...”

You pulled away from your fiance and stormed upstairs, locking yourself in the bathroom the two of you shared. Your were breathing as if you’d just run a marathon, unable to get a sob out before the next one came over you. Tears were hot on your cheeks, and you knew if you looked in the mirror your face would be an angry shade of red. Sliding down to the cool tile floor, you curled in on yourself and just cried.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting like that, how long you stormed away from Harry. If you had the ability to think rationally for a moment, you would’ve realized that he wasn’t trying to use you or take advantage of your kindness. He didn’t even know that asking for help would’ve triggered you like this (you didn’t either, to be fair). But he just happened to be the person you blew up at, and while it wasn’t fair, you couldn’t exactly take it back.

Not that you could, at the moment. You couldn’t stop crying. No matter how much you tried to steady your breathing, or how much you thought you got out of your system, you just kept crying. So much so that you didn’t even hear Harry knock on the door the first time.

“Lovie? Can you unlock the door? Please?”

You didn’t answer, hoping that would be answer enough.

But he persisted. “I hate hearing you cry all by yourself. Will you please let me in? Let me help you, lovie.”

The sobbing stilled for just a moment, long enough to stand up and unlock the door for Harry. He opened it immediately, but you didn’t see his face before he pulled you against him again.

You didn’t know how long you stood there like that, how long you cried in Harry’s arms while he smoothed his hand down your hair soothingly and kissed the top of your head, waiting patiently until you let it all out. When you finally did, he wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. You didn’t know what to say or what to do. You knew you had to do something, explain, apologize, change out of day-old clothes, something, but Harry thankfully spoke first.

“I think you need a long, hot shower.”

While you got undressed, Harry turned the water on and made sure it was the right temperature. You thought he would leave after that, but he began shedding his clothes too. You wanted to ask what he was up to, but you couldn’t find the words.

He led you to the shower and stepped in behind you. Once you were under the stream of hot water, he leaned down to kiss you, his fingers delicate as the held the side of your face. “Just relax,” he breathed, kissing the top of your cheekbone before turning you around.

Something like excitement stirred in you, even though you were much too exhausted for sex currently. But that wasn’t Harry’s intention. You heard the familiar squirt of the shampoo bottle behind you, and before you could utter a single word, Harry’s fingers were in your hair, massaging your scalp and working the shampoo into a nice lather on your head.

It was the greatest feeling, your fiance’s hands applying the right amount of pressure to make it feel soothing. Your eyes closed involuntarily, a small sigh leaving your lips as he combed through the ends of your hair. Harry repeated the process for conditioner, then body wash, and even a body scrub and the hair oil you applied after getting out of the shower. He did it all himself. You didn’t lift a finger.

At some point, as the steam and Harry’s fingers and the lovely scents of all the products used on you, you managed to find your voice. “I...I think I lost my job today,” you said, then proceeded to tell him everything. You left nothing out, not a single detail, and Harry didn’t say a word, just listened to you recount your day, and all the frustrations that came with it.

You were in a fluffy pink robe by the time you finished. Harry stood behind you while he combed your hair, careful not to hurt you with each knot he de-tangled. Only when you were obviously done talking did he say something.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, moving your hair aside to kiss your jaw.

“Really?”

He nodded. “I...I’ve noticed that you go...above and beyond for people, but family can be a touchy subject for you, and I didn’t want to upset you by implying that your family relies on you a little too much. But after hearing all of that, I can’t help but think I should’ve said something sooner. Why didn’t you tell me about work?”

“I just thought I was working hard,” you said.

It was true. You never really complained to Harry about work or let on how much you were actually doing. And maybe it was subconsciously because you knew he felt a certain way about how your family treated you. If you looked back, you could see moments where his caution manifested. Cancelling a date or two to pick someone up at the airport, running late because a family member called you at the last minute asking for a favor. It was almost like your life wasn’t yours anymore, it was everyone else’s.

“I’m sorry,” you said after a long stretch of silence while Harry finished combing your hair. “For letting all of that affect our relationship and for earlier. I wasn’t mad at you, I promise.”

“I know,” he said. He kissed your jaw again, letting his lips linger this time. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

You felt like there was, but Harry didn’t seemed concerned about it, just concerned about you.

He went through your skincare routine, applying everything to your face with gentle fingers. With each cream and serum, he kissed you. On your nose, your cheeks, your eyelids, the corners of your mouth. Every inch of your skin was sealed with a kiss and the mumbling of, “I love you.”

Harry helped you dress in cozy clothes—your favorite sweatshirt of his and your softest sweatpants. And when he was done he led you downstairs where a pot of something was waiting on the stove.

“I didn’t know how to make the red sauce,” he admitted. And you blushed at the way you exploded at him for that. He wasn’t asking just because he was lazy or wanted you to make dinner for him, he just needed a little help.

As if he could read all the thoughts swirling in your mind, he kissed your rouged cheek. “But no matter. I made macaroni and cheese for us. Straight from the box.”

“Sounds delicious,” you said. And you meant it, just appreciative that he did so much for you.

Harry served you and poured you wine. He talked about his day and the cute dog he saw while stopping for coffee, all the while holding your hand. And when you were both done, he sent you upstairs to relax while he cleaned the kitchen, threatening to haul you up himself when you tried to take your bowl to the sink.

It was weird to lay in your bed and do nothing. Usually you worked or tried to get some things done for the wedding, but tonight, you just laid in bed and watched some reality show on the television mounted on the wall that faced your bed.

Harry came up a little while later, two mugs with something steaming in them in his hands. He handed on to you and kissed your forehead before setting his down on the night table on his side of the bed and sliding in next to you. You set yours down too, cuddling into his inviting warmth.

You immediately found a comfortable position, tangled in a way that said he wasn’t letting you stand up for a single thing, except for maybe using the restroom. Harry’s cheek was squished against yours, his hand tracing delicate patterns on your stomach while he kissed you whenever he felt like it. It was the most relaxed you’d ever been, you thought. The most at peace.

“I love you,” you whispered, his hands and warmth and endless supply of kisses lulling you to sleep.

“I love you too. Now go to sleep, lovie.

To be taken care of. To hear the promise of Harry doting on you now and the rest of your life in his voice was enough to put a smile on your face as you did just as he said.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles angst

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pseudopeachy · 2 years

Text

Bonten x fem!Reader: The other half (part 1)

SUMMARY: What kind of partners do the members of Bonten have?

CHARACTERS: Bonten!Ran Haitani, Bonten!Rindou Haitani

GENRE: Fluff??? Just the Haitani brothers being the best S/Os

WARNINGS: Violence, cursing, needles/syringes, wounds (it’s Bonten soo) I think that’s about it but lmk if I missed anything!

NOTE(S): aaaa this is my first fic for Tokyo Revengers skdsdks I’ve been having the urge to write for them, especially for the Haitani brothers. I feel like they’re the definition of ‘I’m an asshole to everyone, except to my partner’ huhu

DISCLAIMER: Tokyo Revengers and its characters belong to Ken Wakui. This is for entertainment purposes only. I do not permit anyone to have my works displayed on other social media sites than Tumblr. Viewer discretion is also advised.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 🖤

Here’s part 2! 🖤

HAITANI RAN:

“Have to leave early, wife’s home.” Everyone’s heads whipped toward Ran’s direction. The meeting just ended when the older Haitani received a text message, instantly lifting his mood.

“That is the most fucking absurd thing I’ve ever heard from you.” Kokonoi was the first to speak, earning him a snicker from the younger Haitani and a middle finger from the other.

“Did she cook dinner? Kinda missing home-cooked meals lately.” Rindou inquired while casually scrolling through his phone before, “Nevermind, I’m sure she did. Maybe she also baked muffins or something.”

“What the fuck are you guys on about? Ran’s not married.” Sanzu stated as a matter of factly. The man had no wedding ring on either of his ring fingers nor looked like someone that even considers settling down.

“I am, motherfucker.” “He is.”

Mikey sighed, “Whatever. Married or not, I’m coming by your place for the documents you forgot to bring in.”

Half an hour later, all eight leaders of Bonten stood in front of an imposing golden gate. Everyone could see the luscious garden inside, the fountain in its middle perfecting the masterpiece. The house itself stood proud as a mix of victorian and modern design. Each warm light that illuminated the paths towards the front door made it even better.

“Ok, ‘fess up. Whose house is this?” Kakucho said, eyes never leaving the eerily beautiful architecture.

“Mine’s and my wife’s, dumbass. Why would I lie about something about as important as my wife?” Ran sighed for the umpteenth time that night. He just wanted to see his wife after a week of being apart because of their work, what did he do now to deserve this on such a lovely evening?

And before he could turn the knob, the double doors opened. Everyone’s eyes landed on the woman wearing a black off-shoulder dress that stopped just above her knees. Tattoos danced around her arms, most of them managed to see a huge one peaking from her shoulder.

“Good evening! My, I wasn’t expecting quite a large audience tonight. Please, come in. Let us sit at the receiving area.” Ran then offered his arm to the woman and proceeded to walk through the hallways where art pieces resided. Nobody had uttered a word, too shocked that the brothers were perhaps indeed telling the truth.

“Everyone, this is (y/n) Haitani. My wife.” Ran smirked down at the men once they settled in the common area. It took him a lot to not laugh at his colleagues’ reactions while they were still absorbing the news.

“Is everything alright?” (y/n) asked, concerned that none of her husband’s co-workers, save for his brother, liked her. Was it something she said, or was there something on her they didn’t like?

“Kokonoi, you owe me a thousand.”

“Well, fuck.”

“Did you just bet on my wife? Asshats I’ll-” Ran’s outburst towards Sanzu and Kokonoi immediately halted at the touch of a hand on his shoulder.

“Ran, that is not how we receive our guests.” Right then and there, his colleagues gave him a mischievous grin while the woman in question was busy talking with one of the maids. It was going to be a long night for the older Haitani.

“Yeah Haitani, that was very inconsiderate of you. Have you no manners?” Of course, Sanzu was the first person to take advantage of the situation. Finally, someone other than Mikey has the infamous Ran Haitani on a leash.

“Watch it, you little shit.” Ran was about to pounce on the pink-headed man but could only grumble as he felt a familiar hand get tighter on his arm. This did not go amiss by any of the guests. It was like finding the kryptonite for Superman.

“Sis, did you bake something? I was hoping we’d have cake or something by the end of dinner.” Rindou spoke, completely ignoring the glare his older brother was sending.

“Of course, I did make something. It’s not cake or anything bread, though. I made tiramisu and lemon squares.” At this point, Rindou felt like crying. His sister-in-law really is godsent.

“Ah, Ran also mentioned that Mikey-san likes taiyaki, so I went ahead and made a few.” Mikey’s audible gasp shocked everyone but was quickly replaced by sheer fear at the sight of their boss with sparkling eyes.

“Can I have some now? Give me it.” And not a moment too soon, one of the maids placed a plate of freshly baked taiyaki and other snacks that complemented the red wine on the table.

“Do you have any whiskey? On the rocks, hopefully.” Takeomi asked, to which (y/n) nodded and had the maid retrieve said alcohol.

“Please do not hesitate to ask for anything else. Our house is at your disposal.” (y/n) insisted as she poured a glass of wine for her husband. A few minutes into the conversation and a loud banging ruptured from within the premises; Ran eyed his wife.

“Did you just bring home your work?” Everyone’s eyes landed on the couple, the latter just sighing before fishing out a cellphone from her pocket.

“It’s not exactly work, but someone tailed me from the airport, so I had no choice but to restrain and keep them here. I’ve been contacting the girls though, they’ll be here to collect him in a short while.”

“Now that you mentioned work, what is your occupation, if I may ask, (y/n)-san?” Kakucho asked.

“Oh, I thought they already told you. Anyway, I’m an executive for Olympus.” A pin could be heard from the silence that enveloped the room. Sanzu and Kokonoi exchanged glances while Mikey let out a low whistle.

“Olympus? Like the international criminal organization Olympus? that Olympus?” Mochi breathed, unable to process another information for the second time that night.

“For how long? Is that how you guys met? By running to each other during missions and shit?” Now it was Sanzu’s turn to ask.

“If my memory serves me right, I’ve been with Olympus for about six years now.”

“To answer your other question, we met in Roppongi. She was running around the area like a mad man. She was buying everything she could touch.” Ran answered, only to be met by a snort from his wife.

“Hey, I had a bad case of retail ther-” Not a moment too soon, a disheveled man ran towards (y/n) with a chair. The men were about to pull their guns out when the man went limp due to the shock collar on his neck. The woman could only sigh as she rubbed her temples.

“Now who in the world left my basement open?” (y/n) seethed, turning off the device. The man had foam forming on his mouth, but that didn’t stop (y/n) from kicking him in the face with her stilettos until blood covered everything else.

“Have you no fucking manners? First, you have the sheer audacity to even think about following me to my own home, and now you parade in here as if you can fucking touch me? Little shit.” she said, kicking the man with every word. There was another blanket of silence. The men were used to this kind of scene, but there was something about (y/n) that made them bite their tongue. On the other hand, Ran was cheering his wife on, even asking if she wanted to use his baton.

“Oh my God, is he dead?”

Everyone turned their heads to see three women in business attires enter the receiving area, bowing before the guests before gently yanking the female Haitani away from the poor individual. Two immediately dragged the bloody individual outside while the other spoke with their executive.

“Mrs. Haitani, we are sorry for the delay due to a traffic jam. We will clean up the mess before you return on Monday.”

“No, leave him in my dungeon for the weekend. Free reign on him until I get back, but keep him alive. Or revive him for who knows how many; I really don’t care.” And with that, the women immediately exited the estate in a hurry.

“Isn’t she just amazing?” Ran breathed as his wife rubbed her forehead to shake off the negativity.

“She scares me, bro. Why the fuck does she have a shock collar at home?” Kokonoi whispered.

“Let’s not ask questions about things we may not want to know.” Takeomi exhaled before sipping on his whiskey.

The men then whipped their heads the moment (y/n) clapped her hands. “Timer says dinner’s ready. Let’s head to the dining area, shall we?”

HAITANI RINDOU:

“It’s four in the morning, woman. Why on earth are you still awake?”

“That should be the least of your worries when you and your workmates are literally covered in blood.”

Rindou eyed his partner down, still refusing to let her get tangled in their line of work. However, He cannot, for the life of him, understand why he immediately thought of driving the group of crime lords in her peaceful bubble at such an ungodly hour. But before he could reply another retort, Ran got their attention.

“Not to interrupt whatever that is, but we have a pair of individuals who are bleeding in the car.” And just like that, (y/n) immediately went towards Ran who was busy helping Sanzu out of the vehicle.

“I have a gurney waiting at the door, please lay him down there.” she instructed as Kakucho got out next, clutching his side.

(y/n) then motioned for everyone to enter the dark halls of the clinic while she fetched another gurney for the latter. Upon closer look, every one of them was sporting cuts and bruises that must be cleaned later.

“Ok, I’ll attend to these two first. Please help yourselves in the fridge at the far left and then I’ll clean you guys up, too.”

“Thanks, miss. But, who are you?” Takeomi asked as he placed a cigarette stick between his lips.

“This is a no smoking area, please. You can smoke by the door instead.” (y/n) said before putting on the other pair of surgical gloves and prying Sanzu’s clothes off. She immediately saw a familiarly large wound on his hip while his left arm was sporting another wide gash from what she could guess was a bullet.

“Ok, I’m going to start cleaning you up and then I’ll be stitching those wounds so we won’t risk any infection and prevent further bleeding. Tell me when it hurts, too. May I know your name, sir?” she asked the pink haired man while assembling the cart filled with cotton, gauze, and the large bottle of povidine-iodine, along with other medical materials.

While (y/n) attended to a badly injured Sanzu, Rindou was left to entertain his colleagues’ questions.

“(y/n)’s my girlfriend. We’ve been together for more than two years now.” He answered the older Akashi’s inquiry before watching said person treat her patient with much care as if they weren’t some bloodthirsty criminals.

“Does she know about this whole bullshit?” Kokonoi muttered, his eyes never leaving the woman in question as she now tried to subdue Kakucho who was insisting he was fine despite the blood trickling from his head.

“She’s known ever since. She was the one who patched up Ran and I when we were jumped by other executives of a rival gang one night. Didn’t even question shit, just made sure we stopped bleeding.”

Takeomi then flickered his cigarette butt outside before taking a seat next to Ran. His eyes traveled to the woman attending to his colleagues and towards her alleged boyfriend.

“Two years, huh? You’re fucking whipped-” The older Akashi’s monologue was cut short when they heard the woman screech.

“Ok, you two. I do not have the patience of a saint. I will not hesitate to sedate the both of you if you do not cooperate right this moment.”

“Let’s see you do somethi-” the room fell silent as (y/n) stabbed Sanzu on the arm with a rather large syringe. The man tried to speak, but the slurred words were getting more and more gibberish by the second. And just like that, Bonten’s number two fell back on his bed with a loud thud.

The rest of the executives cannot help but to look at one another in response.

“I apologize for my previous actions. I will not move a muscle nor talk unless it’s need for the medical procedures.” Kakucho muttered before lying back on his own bed, mortified beyond belief. He was not about to be unconscious like that.

“Some crime lords you are, really. Stop acting like children, I’m literally just cleaning and stitching you up!”

“Rin, I changed my mind! I love her already!” Kokonoi laughed, muttering about how he’d pay the woman to do that everytime Sanzu was annoying him.

“Now, will you still wonder why I’m a tiny bit afraid of your girlfriend?” Ran chuckled, but he stiffened when (y/n) spared him a gaze. He could feel the negative energy emitting from her eyes.

“Says the man who literally beats up people as a living.” She scoffed while finishing the bandages on the still unconscious Sanzu and finally moving her tray near Kakucho’s bed.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to be a little nice to her, big bro. She just finished her residency last week. It’s hard being a doctor, you know.” Rindou intervenes, though fighting the urge to grin at the pair.

“Who the fuck sedates a patient like that?! And I thought female doctors and nurses are the sweetest.”

“If I hear another stupid statement from you, I’ll sedate you too and stitch up your mouth, Ran.”

And as the chaos betwen his girlfriend and older brother ensues, Rindou cannot help but to chuckle. He worked himself up over nothing, after all. With the dawn of a new day creeping through the windows of the clinic, the young Haitani realized that if his girlfriend can reduce this notorious group of criminals to little children by herself, then he’s got nothing to be afraid of anymore.

-🖤-

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