#when i'm around others i can't seem to shut the fuck up about what i think like it truly matters
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Man, this pisses me off so bad. If you're a woman who relates more to males than other women, it's because you've decided to focus more on how you're different from other women rather than how you're like them. You will literally never have more in common with males, and males do not feel the same way about you. These cute little posts that you write about how you love males more than your fellow women? They do not write the same thing about you. They hate and mock you constantly. Anyone remember "Cis women need to shut up"
"As a cis woman, I agree"
"You need to shut up, specifically"
?
Yea, that's how they feel about you and your solidarity.
The difference between lesbians and trans women in female spaces is the fact that lesbians do not have high rates of violence. There is no group of women that outclass men in terms of violent tendencies. Trans women retain the rates of male violence that regular men do. I'm not saying you have to treat trans women like they're all violent beasts, but if you can't see why female people would be uncomfortable with male people in their spaces, you're either naive or genuinely unsympathetic towards the very real fear that women have of being subjected to male violence. You can't say trans women and lesbians are similar because, unlike males, there is no statistical evidence that lesbians are highly likely to take advantage of a woman. If it turned out that 98% of rapes were committed by lesbians, I would 1000% understand why straight women don't fucking want to be around me. Have some fucking empathy, holy fucking shit. Even if you are completely on board with trans women being in female spaces, at LEAST acknowledge that it makes sense for women to be concerned about who is allowed in their spaces. It's crazy how I could tell someone I have a fear of dogs because one bit me when I was a kid, and they'd put their sweet pooch up, but God forbid a woman be cautious around a demographic who commit 90% of all violent crime. Oh no. That woman is suddenly a terf bitch.
I have nothing in common with trans women. I don't care how much pain they have experienced. We are not the same. When I was twelve, I cried and I cried as I put my palms together to pray to a God I hoped would be able to take away my homosexuality. I didn't even grow up in a particularly homophobic family. Both of my parents were accepting of me, but I still sat in the dark of my room, tears streaming down my face, as I prayed to have my sexuality changed.
Two years later, one of my friends made a joke about me dressing to impress my crush. She said my crushes name---a feminine name. A girl sitting in earshot heard her, turned to me, and asked me with disgust if I was gay. I said no without even thinking about it. It absolutely did not help that we were in a locker room with other girls. I was aware of my sexuality by that point, but I was 14 and unable to hold my own against a girl looking at me like THAT. For a few weeks after that, that girl made comments about how she was "watching me".
I know pain, I know discomfort, I know what it's like to feel predatory. Seeing feminine women, especially if they're white, makes me feel like an alien. I look at them and think "how are we so different? I see none of myself in you."
Sometimes I'm right. Sometimes we're not similar at all. But guess what? That doesn't mean I'm similar to a straight male. Fucking hell, sometimes I'm not similar to other lesbians. That's completely normal. I think OP needs to read better work by cishet women. If you think that there is not a single piece of cishet female writing that can move you more than something written by a male, you're not looking in the right places at all. I don't understand why some LB women seem to think that the very act of someone being a straight woman makes them incapable of relatability. Of course it makes sense for you to be cautious. Lesbians deal with a lot of alienation and predatory feelings, but if the very ACT of a woman being cis and straight makes you feel like she has absolutely nothing in common with you...? The issue lies with you. YOU are the one othering THEM. Not the other way around. You're the one who has decided that a few cis straight women othering you means that they ALL will so you'd better beat them to the punch. You're the one who has decided that your relationship to womanhood is so astronomically different from straight women that nothing they say speaks to you. That's INSANE. Do you realize how much you have to alienate yourself from womanhood to feel more relatability with a male person than a female one? Idk how to tell you this, but it is highly probable that the most cis, most het woman you have ever met has had a period. It's highly likely she's been harassed by a man. It's highly likely she's been made to feel inferior by way of being born female. No, they can't relate to the experience of being a lesbian who is made to feel predatory for no reason, but to say that nothing a cis het woman says/experiences can move you at all? Nothing they say can make you feel like your experience with womanhood and hers are similar? Do you realize how you sound? "Trans women have been harassed by men and made to feel inferior, too!!" Okay! So you should be able to relate to cis women in the way you do trans women, right?
I told my discord server that I was nervous about my future roommates. I showed them photos and someone said "all this tells me is that they're feminine and white" and I literally think about that all of the time. I was projecting. I was so scared that these white, feminine, probably straight women were going to judge me for being a black lesbian that I didn't even realize that I was the one violently judging them based off of nothing but their skin color and their femininity. I knew nothing about them. I STILL know nothing about them. I've barely spoken to them. But already I had labeled them as unrelatable judgemental women because of how they looked. Hold on. Wasn't I the one afraid of them judging ME? How could I be so afraid of them judging me for being a black lesbian when I was the one judging them already? What sense does that make?
You guys are so busy writing off cis straight women as unrelatable bigots that you've failed to see that you're the one who is extremely prejudiced against them. And I absolutely fucking know someone is gonna read this and say "well, you can't say that all trans women have male violence patterns and dahdahdahdah" and it's like. But YOU can say that cis straight women are so unbelievably different from lesbian women that you'd rather say you're more similar to a straight up fucking male???
I'm not saying it's not a little jarring to see women who are so different from me. I'm not saying I haven't been burned before and there's no reason for me (or other lesbians) to be cautious. But I will literally ALWAYS have more in common with cishet women than I ever will a man pretending to be a woman.
One time I had a professor. She was on the older side (I'd say 40's) and white. Not the type of person I'd think I'd click well with. She was straight and married with children. One day we talked after class, and the only thing that ended our conversation was the fact she had an event she had to go to. We would've talked longer if not for that. She emailed me a little while later to tell me that she enjoyed our chat. After that, she actually hugged me on two occasions. You wouldn't think we'd have common ground. An older, straight, married white mother and a young black lesbian. Both of us are "cis" but I can tell you I relate to her much better than I ever could someone born male.
I once had a personal trainer who was a feminine woman. She had acrylic nails and everything. One time she said that she couldn't hug her male friends anymore because she had a boyfriend (he wasn't the one enforcing that rule. That was something she personally felt). Also not someone I thought I'd click well with. But we did. One time we had a really productive discussion that was actually derived from the conversation with my professor. I felt very close to her in that moment. Our conversation came to a close because she had another client, but I still think about that convo.
There have been so many fucking times where I thought "this woman is not like me. Look at her." But what I realized was that I was the judgmental one. I was the one deciding we were different, not her. I was the one writing her off. I was the one convinced we had nothing in common.
I am BEGGING you not to alienate your fellow women. There are no inherent traits that make you unable to relate to other women. No amount of whiteness or cisness or straightness can make a woman completely unreachable. I am NOT talking about political parties or views so don't fucking try me with that shit. Obviously that puts a wedge between people, but someone simply being born cis and het does not make them alien from you. For God's sake, look at the fucking MeToo movement. Women from all fucking backgrounds who share an experience that an unfortunate amount of women go through. Women from all different races, sexualities, etc. who came together to talk about how they've been subjected to sexual violence. Ellen degeneres was one of them. How does that fit into your "lesbians and cishet women cannot relate to each other" spiel?
OP's post has 130k notes and it makes me fucking sick. Holy crap y'all, we need more solidarity than this. Other women are not your enemy. I'm begging you to reconsider your approach to women who are different than you. You are missing out on people who can love and support you in a way that literally no male can. You are depriving yourself. Just because a few cishet women in the past alienated you, does not mean that you have to continue their legacy. Let it go. Everyone on earth can see you embracing your hatred of women, and you wonder why your fellow women never hug you? They fucking can't! Put your hatred down and make space for the love that comes with realizing that you absolutely are like other girls!
#You guys think you're so progressive but you're just in a woke version of not like other girls#Stop comparing lesbians to literal males#Jesus fucking Christ#I actually hate you guys so fucking much#I'm never telling anyone I'm gay every again bro#I hate all of you#I should've prayed to be asexual man#Maybe god would've taken me more seriously
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I still very loathe the Media Trope of ‘’cold genius man doesn’t feel emotions and never has relationships... UNTIL.. one random relatively bland Preddy Woman comes along and warps his entire personality and ability to think, his heart has grown and his seeming asexuality has evaporated, he is now Normal :)” or whatever like... AS a walking generic hermit archetype myself.. we would NOT act like that .... just let people be detached weirdos in peace, you cowards .. OR, don’t bother to write one in the first place if you find us too boring to exist realistically in our natural state lol.. pathetic
#the only exception to this is its okay if he develops some pesudo-romantic psychologial fixation on one of his long suffering male sidekicks#or assistants or whatever (since this character acrhetype ALWAYS has some sort of like Straight Man Every Man helper to follow#him around and be an audience stand in. sometimes multiple like a whole team of assistants. sometimes just one etc.)#like a strange not-entirely-romance-but-mutualy-unhealthy-comedic-codependence w someone you worked w 25+ yrs COULD be in character. sure.#ASIDE from that one exception though..... just keep them aromantic and asexual.. why would someone who has been that way for their#entire fucking life suddenly be like ''well I've known this woman three weeks but she's really hot! whoops!''#''guess I'm going to act completely out of character! sometimes booba so booby it fundametally alters the dna of me personality. you know ho#w it is'' .. like shut up.. explode#It's not that I project personally onto these characters (writers are bad at writing them and they're generally annoying as shit) BUT just#like... coming FROM the perspective OF a cold detached ''robot'' seeming hermit freak.. like textbook scholar wizard man locked#away in a tower somewhere type personality... You just watch shows sometimes and you can SEE that the writers are trying to write#the Character Archetype that is your actual realworld personality and you're just like 'we do NOT fucking act like that!!!' lol#you know ? like .. i don't actually care about the characters themselves but more just.. the principle of the thing. staying true to what#has been set up. You can't be like ''oh yeah this is your typical cold detached hermit weirdo with zero interest in human relationships for#the most part blah blah blah'' and then 5 minutes later be like ''WAIT GUYS!! LOOK! they're still NORMAL! look they love booba#too!!! haha hashtag Relatable!!'' .. what have you done to him.. you've massacred the archtype.. cowardly fool#Also I'm referencing them as male because this character archtetype is usually male but the same thing can apply for other gendered versions#of the archetype. it's ALWAYS annoying. no matter what it is lol. GOD AND IT'S even worse when they're supposed to be like hundreds or thous#ands of years old like.. some sort of supernatural being who's ''above it all'' because they've seen the world's cycles for so long#and blah blah and then it's like ''omg.. suddenly into romance.. for some reason all 900 years of my life nobody has ever been good#enough but YOU.. random ass person who I met 30 minutes ago and are completely average in every way or maybe you have like one#special power or are smart or something but apparently somehow I've lived 900 years without ever meeting a single other smart person#or whatever but WOW.. you... instant soulamtes.. I am no longer aromantic and asexual. I am also no longer smart.''#at least if it's a human with a normal lifespan you can be like 'well they were only 30. maybe they genuinely did just have their first#sexul awakening' or something but.. you're telling me like.. 900 years??? 1000 years?? and NOW they're like 'whooa!!' lol#Which obviously all aroace people are different.. all people with autism or schizoid pd or any other mental illnesses that can sometimes#lend people towards that type of 'weird hermit' archetype are all different. plenty of these people WILL have relationships and sex and desi#re those things. but it's like.. if you are OBVIOUSLY setting out to write that one VERY specific archetype within the broader archetype#then GO ALL THE WAY!! you cant have someone be like HALF-detached partial-hemrit sometimes-maybe-genuis or whatever#or I guess you can but like. it should be that way from the beginning. it's the random sudden shift in personality thats jarring
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I spent quite literally one [1] hour with my father and now feel like absolute shit. Unironically how does he do this [i am impressed]
#AvieRant#now mind you i am writing this from “weh weh weh huff puff” attitude so it is probably biased like a motherfucker#but whatever i'll feel bad for it later#so before we even get anywhere [walgreens] I talk about how someone on the discord got a full ride to yale and he goes on his#“You think you don't have to do things if you don't want to...” speech yada yada yada shut up please you're the reason why#I couldn't apply to college because you fucking refused to help me get my immunization records until like august [too late]#anyways I show concern for him as he says his ankle has been hurting especially on the EXTRA LONG WALK he CHOSE to take#and he fucking. slaps my stomach and says “yeah well I ain't got a pussy so I ain't a bitch”#i. are you fucking kidding me . one - don't touch me . two - fuck you. three - don't fucking touch me#then we GET to walgreens and he makes sure to inform me how stupid I am for... looking at the price of things before buying them#and actively gives me a side eye or sucks his teeth when I suggest making decisions based off of cost [idgaf if you have cash be smart >:(]#anyways he also just basically decides shit for me. I asked for one [1] thing and he informed me that I simply don't need it#before promptly ignoring any even suggestions of me getting something I'd actually want other than what he soyjaks at#so anyways as we go to pay ? fucker demands I go wait outside while he pays . for no reason. just. fuck me ig okay#anyways we seem to FINALLY be getting my phone turned on on the way home!!!! like we're AT T-Mobile!#then he has to wait 5 minutes and decides we'll just do it tomorrow. like he's been saying for 11 months#then basically tells me to go home alone while I carry everything bc he wants to go somewhere#like . fuck you fuck off i am tired of your bullshit#ugh . i. like again. can't ocmplain. free food and housing and what not. but do you HAVE to be a dick whenever you can? >:/#whatever i'm gonna go cope somehow see y'all around
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・﹒・ hypersexual nights
Summary: How various Hazbin and Helluva Boss characters react to a hypersexual reader!
Warnings: 18+, sexual scenarios, Vouyer!Vox, does hypersexual not tell you enough lol just read it
Parings: [Seperate] Saint Peter, Lucifer, Valentino, Adam, Vox, Mammon, and Striker x hypersexual!reader
Notes: HOLY SHIT THIS WAS GONNA BE FOR 300 FOLLOWERS NOW ITS 400 FOLLOWERS! As a celebration, have this! I'm an hypersexual aroace myself so hypersexuals rise up! 💪
﹒Adam﹒
・He would notice how you always were down to fuck, almost every day in fact, how could he not? You've been the only one to truly keep up with him as most other people always had "low" sex drives and wouldn't be in the mood when he was. So you were like a blessing just for him when day after day, you would always be up for sex at any given moment. When you told him you were Hypersexual one day after a good fuck, he just laughed in your face.
・"Hypersexual? You're always horny? Bitch PLEASE I already knew that. You ask for sex like- every day and never shut up about it. That's why I like you so much. You want to be fucked just as much as I want to fuck"
﹒Saint Peter﹒
・He is a pretty innocent soul, he swears occasionally but when it comes to sex? Oh boy. And you? Being hypersexual? You always flirt with him in a suggestive manner, wanting him to just admit that he likes you. He can't help but simultaneously love the attention as the thoughts you always put in his head, but feel so embarrassed and dirty about it. He always seems to short circuit whenever you flirt with him, but he never says no, so you keep doing it. He of course noticed it after the first few times, you being on par with Adam in sexuality, how could he not? But when you admitted that you were hypersexual and he finally understood.
・"Oh? That's why you uh- why you're always flirt with me! Haha...and say those...really uhm...dirty things... Not that I mind of course! I actually uh...kind of like it..."
﹒Lucifer﹒
・He had his suspicions very early on, it was so obvious to notice how you and Angel Dust got along so well with the topic of sex. He also noticed how you always made sex jokes and talked about sex even without the porn star around. And when it came to him? You always seemed to get flustered whenever he flirted with you, always ensuring to make it dirty, and it worked everytime. After you got together, you almost pounced on him, wanting to have sex early on. He didn't mind it, but in fact, wanted it. You then apologized and said you were hypersexual, meaning you couldn't not think about sex constantly. He just laughed and pinned you down on the bed.
・"Oh I know very well, very well. And I will enjoy fulfilling every. Single. Desire. You could ever ask for"
﹒Mammon﹒
・He isn't exactly the smartest tool in the shed, but he knew you were just as greedy as him. Not in the money sense, no, no. But in sex. You haven't yet gotten to that point in your relationship yet, but he could tell you were denying taking the step. Was it because he was a Sin? He didn't know. All he knew is that if you didn't fuck him already, he was going to fuck you first. So he confronted you and you said you were scared of him just using you for sex due to your constant sexual nature. He reassured you that he truly did love you, but couldn't deny that someone just as greedy as him was very nice to have around.
・"Oi! Don't be scared mate! I won't use ya just for sex and toss ya away! I love ya too much for that. But ya know- I'd be down to fuck every single night if that's what you want"
﹒Vox﹒
・He is an interesting case. He isn't the best guy around and loves to spy on you. So, when you act all innocent and sweet around him, yet fuck yourself silly with a stupid toy screaming for him so incredibly often it becomes a pattern? Yeah, you're hiding your sexual nature. Which is odd, but probably so Valentino didn't swoop in to take advantage of you. Instead of talking to you, he let your feelings build and build and let your toy eventually not be enough for you. You finally burst into his office and told him you knew he was watching you while you masturbated. He was taken aback at first, but then laughed as he realized you loved that he watched you.
・"You need the real thing, huh? Was waiting for you to finally say it you dirty little whore"
﹒Valentino﹒
・He noticed immediately as you would constantly flirt with him in a suggestive way and he would flirt back just as hard if not harder. It was so easy to notice, he played into it very hard and took advantage of your very sexual nature. It was easy to get you hooked quickly and you never had to say a thing. He fucked you in every way he could imagine and you loved every second of it. It was a mutual understanding between you two- the thought of telling him that you're hypersexual was laughable in every sense of the idea.
・"Oh baby~ you wanna be fucked into the mattress again? It hasn't even been three hours amore~ you're still horny? I'll make sure you can't walk anymore after~"
﹒Striker﹒
He isn't apposed to sex, he just hates it when people makes jokes about it when he's just trying to do his job. In fact, he loves sex, have you seen the huge statue where his dick is very endowed? That man is full of himself and knows he can fuck good. You started out as a target for him and at first your sexual flirting threw him off his game. But after many failed attempts of cat and mouse, you finally managed to get him to admit that he liked it from your non stop remarks.
・"Ok fine- yer hot and I wanna fuck. Don't look at me like that! Not my fuckin' fault yer always telling me you wanna suck my cock"
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#vox x reader#valentino x reader#mammon x reader#lucifer x reader#adam x reader#saint peter x reader#striker x reader
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The Meetup
《Part 2 for Next Caller
《Pairings:College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader
《Summary: After your call with Eddie, you can't get him off your mind. You promised yourself to let your fears go and finally speak with him in person. Some things don't go as originally planned because Eddie just so happens to walk into your coffee shop.
《Warnings:fluff,smut. 90s!Eddie, a little tiny bit of dry humping, oral ( female & male receiving) dirty talk, pet names (good girl, sweetheart) phone sex, masturbation (male). Sex toys (fleshlight)
Word count: 7.7k
A/n: Please reblog like and leave a comment to show support. Not proofread ignore any mistakes you come across.
Disclaimer: Please read part one linked at the top to understand the rest of the story.
Mini series masterlist
18+ minors dni
Almost a few days after the stunt, you pulled on the radio with Eddie it didn't take long before word got around on campus. It's all anyone could talk about they wanted to know who the mystery caller was, and Eddie seemed to be cornered more so than usual. As people surrounded him, he wished maybe one of them were you. Hiding amongst the crowd of people.
Anytime a woman called in, his assistant would jump out his skin. He knew he should have shut it down the moment it started, but he trusted Eddie. Now, anytime the phone rings, he instantly goes into a frenzied panic. Eddie just laughs at how over dramatic he was being. He knew if someone called in trying to pull the same stunt as you did, he'd turn them away. He's not gonna tell his assistant that, though. He likes how jumpy and absolutely horrified he gets when there is a female voice on the other end of the line.
You still listened in every show since that night. Almost every time someone called in, they would either want to do what you did or want to talk about you. One thing that pretty much kinda bothered you were some of the girls calling and pretending to be you. Sometimes, you felt like it was bait, and someone was just trying to get the real "Miss caller" to give away her true identity. Much like how tonight was going, if you were tired of it, you can only imagine how he must feel.
"Yeah hi its me calling you back." An unfamiliar female voice spoke.
"Nice try, you don't really sound anything like her, buh-bye." His voice etched with annoyance as he hung up on the fifth woman of the night.
"Anyone want to call in and talk about I' dunno sports?" He sounded absolutely over it.
"I'm fucking desperate over here."
He emitted a long sigh into the mic. "Can someone call in with an embarrassing or some shit?"
You begin to drown out the sound of him talking as he tries to move along the segment.
You felt bad you truly did for what was happening to him now. You don't regret choosing him to help you, but you wish the circumstances were a little different. You hope he didn't hate you for this. You don't think you could live with yourself if he did.
Eddie on the other hand couldn't get you off his mind. You infested it, and no matter how hard he tried to think of over things, you creeped your way back in. He dreamt of you, and every dream was the same. He could hear you speaking to him, but right when he got close enough to reveal who you were, he'd wake up.
He got absolutely chewed out by his boss that following day. His show was close to being taken off the air, but once they saw how much buzz it was getting, they decided against it. He was on thin ice, though, when it came to how raunchy his segment was allowed to get. The conversation made local news in your town, which created more concerns for you.
The thought of someone figuring out how to trace your call back to your home terrified you to no end. Could they even do something like that? You don't know and definitely don't want to find out. Eddie did make a promise to keep you anonymous, but that didn't mean everyone else who worked there did. You try to push the paranoia to the back of your mind and just put all of your focus on school and work. This whole situation should blow over shortly you hoped.
Even with all of the chaos at your campus right now, that still didn't persuade from wanting to go see him play Thursday. Which was perfect timing since your roommate was going out of town that same day. Leaving you to an empty home all to by yourself. Who knows, maybe you'd get lucky and take him home. It was wishful thinking on your part, but still, it could happen.
Little did you know you didn't need to wait that long to see him after all. As you just rang up a customer's coffee order, he was next in line. He was too preoccupied looking at all the coffee options on the menu to see he's the next one to in line. You cleared your throat to get his attention and he looked right at you.
Your heart felt like it was in your throat when his eyes met yours. He looked very good today, making it much harder for you to focus. He had his hair pulled back and wore a oversized black corduroy button-up shirt with black ripped jeans. He gave an apologetic smile for holding you up.
"Uhhh, sorry, I really don't know what this shit means." He laughs, pointing back to the menu above.
Your mouth goes dry, and you try to play it cool.
"Well, what kind of coffee do you usually like?" You asked, trying to forget about who's standing before you. He's just some guy you kept reminding yourself.
He pressed his lips in a thin line, "Well, i usually don't drink coffee. if I did, I guess I wouldn't want it to taste like ass."
"So whatever you suggest."
You giggle and smile, turning to look at the menu as well. "I'd suggest maybe a vanilla latte. It's pretty basic."
"I'll take whatever you tell me to." He holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm putting all my faith in you."
"Wait a minute, are you implying im basic?" His mouth agape throwing a ringed hand over his heart pretending to be offended.
He was toying with you hoping to get you to laugh but instead you panicked.
Swallowing hard." N-no...its just a pretty standard drink to order."
"Hey, it's cool. I'm messing around." He reassured.
"Oh..um okay well then."
You try to regain your composure as your face begins to tingle.
"Okay, and what size? Small, medium, or large? " You asked him, trying to hide the fact that you're rapidly about to lose your mind.
"Oh, I need a large."
You nodded, putting in his order and ringing him up. He stands there a moment too long, and it's making you a little nervous. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
Your eyes grow wide, and you quickly turn to look away.
"Nope." You shook your head.
"You sure? You seem so familiar to me." He bends down on his elbows leaning on the counter. He's trying to examine your face to remember where he knows you from.
"We may have a had a class together at some point." You shrug.
"I mean yeah--but I don't know there is something else." He continued staring while you ran around behind the counter, putting away fresh croissant.
The longer it took for his latte to be finished, the more anxious you got. He wouldn't stop looking at you. You wanted to tell him it's rude to stare, but you don't. He kept trying to make small talk with you, which didn't help your nerves at all. You kept stumbling over your words or clearing your throat because it was getting dry.
You took a breath of fresh air when they finally called his order number. He took his coffee and waited around until you came back. "So, uhh, I don't know if this weird, but you wouldn't be apposed to going on a date with me?"
You blinked twice trying to figure out if you just heard him correctly.
"Come again?" You ask in disbelief.
"Oh, well, I was wondering if I could take you on a date?" He repeated as a small blush creeped along his cheeks.
"Yeah, sure. I mean, I'd love to." You tried to keep your cool, but on the inside, you were jumping for joy.
His smile grows ten times wider when he hears you accept his date. "Great, write down your address and phone number so we can keep in contact."
You nodded and ran to grab a pin and paper, giving him all of the information he needed. He also wrote down his number to give to you as well, just in case you needed to get in touch before your date.
"Cool, how's Friday sound?" He asks, taking the piece of paper you handed him. "Friday sounds great, actually."
"My names Eddie, by the way." He added motioning to himself.
He smiled again, taking a sip of coffee as he began heading for the door. He turns to look at you one last time before leaving. "I'll see you Friday, pretty girl."
"Thanks a latte." He joked, holding up his cup before finally exiting the coffee shop. His face scrunched up with embarrassment as he turned to leave. Why the fuck did I just say that? He thought to himself as he practically chugged down his drink, heading to his first lecture of the day.
You're standing still behind the counter, frozen in place. Did that really just happen? That fast? You started to think someone was pulling a prank on you. Maybe everyone did find out you were the caller and decided to mess with around. No, Eddie doesn't seem like the type of guy who would do something like that, you thought. You just couldn't get over how easy that was, a little too easy.
The week went by way too fast for you, and the closer it got to your date, the more anxious you became. You wanted to tell him so badly it was you who called. Would he even still like you after that? He seemed just as eager to meet you as you wanted to meet him. Doesn't really matter now. You'd tell him eventually anyway. Especially if this date goes well.
You didn't see or hear from him too much during the days leading up to Friday. You figured he was very busy since he still was doing his show on the radio and playing with his band. On top of attending classes, he seemed like he didn't have much free time. Which is why you didn't cancel on him like you were probably going to. After you thought about it for a while, you realized he definitely was making the time to take you out.
Eddie called you a few times to check in and see if you were still willing to go out with him. He'd make small talk to ask how you were and if your classes were going well. He'd crack a joke or two, making you laugh easing your mind of any self doubt you had before.
Now that it was officially Friday evening, you quickly left work early to go home and get ready. He said he'd be come by eight o'clock to pick you up, giving you a few hours to decide what to wear. You searched through each article of clothing hating every single piece. You know deep down he doesn't care about what clothes you're wearing. He asked you out while you were in your work attire. With your coffee stained apron and dumb hat.
Still, you wanted to look nice for him, and you don't get out much as it is. So you opted for just a simple black dress. Dowsing yourself in a sweet perfume and putting on a pair of heels. You pray you don't end up falling and busting your ass in front of him tonight. You were shaved, plucked, and smelt of vanilla and spice.
You were just putting the last touches to your makeup on when you heard a knock at your front door. You did a last mirror check, making sure everything looked well put together. You take a long, deep breath and exhale before you go to open up for him.
When you opened the door to greet him, he was standing there with one hand in his pocket. While the other is holding a bouquet of flowers. He wore a black pullover sweater with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, revealing his tattooed arms. His dark curly hair loose around his shoulders, and he smelled like mint and tobacco. His smile widened when he saw you for the first time since your last meeting. His dimples on full display, and you couldn't help but melt a little. "You look beautiful."
"Thanks. You don't look too bad, either." You smile, stepping out to stand closer to him. "Nah, I just wanted to impress you."
He blushes, and this is the second time you've seen him do that. He gave a boyish smile and handed you the bouquet of flowers he picked. "These are for you, sweetheart."
"Thank you." You reached out to accept the flowers. "They're beautiful."
There is a moment where you both don't say a word and just stand there gazing at one another.
Eddie cleared his throat. "Shall we?"
You nodded, closing the door behind you and making your way to his van. He walked next to you with a hand on the small of your back. He moved past you quickly to open the door and help you get into the passenger seat. Eddie made his way to the driver side and hopped in no longer after you.
The drive to the restaurant was fairly quiet except for the music playing on Eddie's radio. He humed along, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat. You both steal glances here and there when the other isn't looking. Your heart beating a mile a minute.
Eddie seemed calm and collected, but on the inside, he felt just the same. Usually, he was pretty confident around women, but there was something about you that made his heart skip a beat. He doesn't know what it is that pulled him in so quickly. He's not complaining one bit either.
You finally see the restaurant up a head and sigh in relief. He pulled up and parked in the front. He made you wait there while he jumped out of the driver side to jog over to help open up your door. You took his hand and carefully got out while trying not to flash anyone in the process. You wish the dress you finally decided on wasn't so short.
You make your way inside where a hostess greets you both and guides you to a table in the far back. You sit across from one another while she handed you a menu to look over. A waitress soon comes by to ask what drinks you'd like, and you both settle on a Dr pepper.
She returned not too much longer to take your orders and set down your drinks. You and him seemed to be in sync tonight since the both of you ordered a burger with onion rings on the side. Once she took your order, she left, leaving you alone together again.
"So I'm gonna ask a boring question and say what do you enjoy doing for fun?" He playfully asked, taking a sip of his soda.
"Uh, well, I haven't been having much fun lately with work and school taking up my time." You confessed feeling a little embarrassed you don't live an exciting life you imagined he did.
"You don't hang out with friends or go out?" His brows furrowed.
You play around with a piece of paper on the table, avoiding his gaze. "Uh, well, I don't have that many friends here."
"I mostly just keep to myself and stay home a lot." You continued on.
He frowns. "Boyfriends?"
You shake your head, trying not to even think about any of your exes at a time like this.
"You know what? I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask about boyfriends while in the middle of a date." He gave an apologetic smile.
"Hope he doesn't mind sharing you for the night, though." He winked, making you laugh.
He seems to enjoy making you laugh when he notices you're uncomfortable or getting shy.
The waitress finally arrived back with your food, and you didn't hesitate to start eating immediately. He watched you with amusement and started eating right behind you. The longer you both talked, the more relaxed you became.
You were already familiar with him and found a form of comfort when listening to his show. But being alone with him felt different. You never thought this moment would come. You almost wanted to cry, thinking it was just some elaborate dream that you'd soon wake up from. The date was going amazing so far, and you never wanted it to end.
"So, um, how's your show going?" You ask him, not wanting to seem like he was the only one asking the questions.
"It's good..well actually I'm in some trouble, but they'll live. More people are listening in now, so I think the money will shut them up." He openly admited, shoving an onion ring in his mouth.
You raise an eyebrow "in trouble for what?"
You already knew but wanted to hear him say. You kept wondering what he thought about that phone call. Even if it might hurt your feelings, you were dying to know. Your curiosity always got the best of you.
He shakes his head. "Maybe I'll talk about it on our second date."
You giggle, finishing off the last bit of your dinner. "What do you like to do for fun?"
"Well, I play DnD when I have extra free time, I play with my band at the bar by campus." He frowned a little at the mention of his band.
"Sadly, we probably won't be playing much together here very soon." He adds.
Changing the subject quickly, not wanting to bring the mood down. "Girlfriends?"
"No girlfriends."
He eyed you up and down, grinning wide poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek. You swear you could see a little twinkle in his eye.
He leans forward, getting awfully close. " You almost ready to go?"
"Um sure, yeah." You respond a little sadly, not wanting the night to end so soon. He waves for the waitress to bring over the bill. Once he was done paying, you both got back in his vans.
The van ride back to your place wasn't as awkward as before, but there was something electric in the air. There is too much tension between the two of you. It felt like the silence was lingering until one of you decided to make the first move.
He pulls up in front of your home and helps you step out of the passenger side. Both of you walking up to your front door, not speaking. This was your chance to invite him in. You thought to yourself. "I had fun tonight."
"Yeah, me too." He smiled, putting his hands back in pockets.
You look up at him and whisper. " Do you want to come in?"
He paused for a moment, hoping he heard you correctly before answering. "Yeah, I'd love to come in."
You unlock the front door and take his hand, pulling him inside and guiding him to your bedroom.
The moment he was finally in his lips, crashed onto yours in a heated kiss. The kiss was sloppy and passionate as your tongues fought for dominance. Your lipstick smears on his mouth. He breaks away to move down your jaw and nip at your neck right under your ear. He nibbled and sucked at your tender skin, causing your knees to buckle. You grabbed onto his biceps, holding on tightly to keep your balance.
He stops to look at you in your eyes. "You wanna get undressed for me?"
You swallowed hard and nodded.
"Words, pretty girl." His voice is low and husky.
"Yes." You panted.
Eddie reaches around to unzip the back of your dress, letting it pool around your feet. He squates down his face mere inches from your heat. He looks up at you through his long lashes. He kisses your tummy right above the waistband of your panties before reaching to grab your ankle. He brought it forward to unclasp your heel. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, steadying yourself. He tosses the shoe to the side before moving to the next one and doing the same.
He stands up, reaching around your back again, unhooking your bra, and letting it fall to the floor, exposing your breasts. Your nipples harden in the cool air of your bedroom. You watch him as he takes his shirt off, exposing his bare chest to you. You notice tattoos you've never seen before. One of a faded demon on his peck and a black widow right under his clavicle. "Be a good girl and lay back on the bed."
You hesitate for a moment as your mind is already feeling hazy. You turned to slowly make your way up the bed, laying back against your pillows. You watch as he took his boots off and unbuckeld his jeans, letting them hang low on his hips. He seductively crawls his way up until he is hovering above you.
You push on his chest. "Umm....I don't think it's a good idea if we have sex."
He sit back on his knees. "Want me to leave?"
"No, we can do other stuff. I'm just not ready to do that." You confessed.
"Hey, we don't have to do anything you don't want to." He reassured you, bringing a hand to gently cup your cheek.
You let out a shakey breath, feeling a little more comfortable . You were worried he would be mad at you, but he wasn't.
"If you don't like anything I'm doing, don't be afraid to tell me,okay?" He's being sincere, you can tell. He wanted you to feel safe with him.
You nodded again. "Okay, i will."
"Good." He smiled and leaned down to give you another kiss to your lips.
He brought his hips against yours grinding his hard cock against your core. You moan in his mouth when his cock applies pressure to your clit over your panties. He pushes against you harder, causing him to grunt. He moved to lay by your side, pressing his front right up against you. His fingers dance and play with the waistband of your panties. You can feel his prominent buldge pressing against your outer thigh. His calloused fingers slowly slips past the delicate lace. You can feel him brushing past your clit. He carefully glides his middle finger in between your wet fold, collecting your slick on his finger. Ignoring your aching bud in the process.
"Fuck you're so wet." He murmured against your mouth.
He pushes one finger inside your entrance, pumping it agonizingly slow. Your head falls back, giving him the perfect opportunity to attack your neck. He nips and sucks on the skin by your ear. Biting, licking, and sucking while his finger is knuckle deep in your pussy. He adds another stretching you open around his thick fingers. His thumb pressing firmly on your clit. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out gasp.
"Think of my cock pretty girl." He whispered curving his fingers upward.
"Mmm!, s-so good." You whimper.
That's all you could respond with your mind completely gone. All you could do was focus on how he seemed determined to make you feel good. You feel him smile against your neck when where his lips were leaving feather like kisses all over. You clench around him as his fingers start working on that sweet spot on your walls.
"F-fuck." You let out a strangled moan bucking your hips.
He grinds his cock against your thigh. "Feel that?"
"Feel how hard I am for you?"
You look up at him with big doe eyes."y-yes I can feel you."
His picks up the pace, his fingers plunging in and out, making your head spin. Your pussy wet and loud taking his middle and ring finger. The tightness in your core building with each pump of fingers. Your moans getting more pornographic. His warm breath on your neck making you squirm.
"You're such a messy girl. My hand is getting soaked." He purrs in your ear.
He ruts harder against your thigh, violently rocking your bed.
"Can I taste you?" He rasped.
You let out groan. "Please"
You swallow hard as your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest. You're already breathless. A small frown forms on your face when you feel his thick fingers leaving from inside of you.
"Ah ah, no pouting." He wiggled his index finger at you playfully.
No one has ever done this to you before. None of your exes cared about your pleasure they only wanted to get themselves off and then leave you to handle the rest. Eddie was the first man to help you cum and now he's going to be the first man to taste you. All of your ex boyfriends were selfish lovers. Which brought on so many insecurities you've been working hard to overcome. There was a part of you that didn't want him to keep going, but there was another part that was telling you to let go and enjoy it.
He gave you one last deep kiss on your lips before moving and kissing his way down right above your sex. He looked up at you again, and his pupils were blown out with lust. He never breaks eye contact as he slowly drags your panties down your legs. He sits up higher for a moment, admiring your naked body spread out before him. You went to close your legs, but he stopped you. "Let me see you."
Thats all you needed to hear before spreading them wider for him.
He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes, trying not to attack the moment you show yourself to him. "I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good."
He dips down again, his face so close to your pussy now. He hums in approval when he sees how soaked you are for him. Your slick dripping down to the curve of your ass. He kisses the inside of your thighs, testing to see how much you can take before you're begging him for more. It doesn't take long before you're already impatient. He nips and sucks at the soft skin, making you buck up against his face. His nose nudging your throbbing clit.
"Patience, sweetheart." He laughed.
You buck up again, wanting desperately wanting his mouth.
Without warning, you feel his warm tongue licking a long strip between your wet folds. You sucked in a breath, never having felt something like this before. "OOh!,Eddie." You mewled
He pulls you down hard against his face, grunting against you. He sucks and laps at your folds, letting your slick cover his face. You grind against his mouth, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your legs go to squeeze around his head, but his strong hands hold them in place. He takes his tongue to flick across your clit making you wriggle. His mouth attaches to your sensitive bud, and he sucks on it softly. You went to push his head away as the sensation is too much. He removed his mouth, checking see to see if you're okay. "You okay?"
"Why'd you stop?" You whined.
He smiled before reattaching his plump lips to your clit slurping and flicking his tongue over it. He watches as you writhe above him. His eyes never left you as he almost seemed mesmerized by the sight before him. You've never felt this desired by anyone before. Your hips bucking as you grind on his face as he begins sucking harder on your aching clit.
You grip the blankets beneath you. "i-im getting close."
His removes a hand from one of your thighs and carefully pushes one finger inside your entrance. You grab and pull on his hair, making him grunt against you. He adds another finger, curving them upwards to stroke that sweet spot on your walls.
Removing his mouth for a moment "Yeah is my good girl gonna cum?" He asked quickly reattaching his lips to your sore clit. Your backing arching off the bed as you pull on his hair some more.
Your walls pulsating around him as his fingers pump in out of you fast. His mouth sucking on your clit harshly as his fingers plunge deep inside your pussy. The wet noises his mouth is making as his tastes you, mixed with the squelching of your pussy fill the room.
He's lapping away at you, getting lost in your taste, driving you absolutely wild.
"Mmphf! Don't stop." You begged him.
You feel that all too familiar tightness building again, and you clench around his fingers. Your legs are twitcing and trembling. You're breathing harder than before. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you fast, leaving your body to shake. Eddies mouth never letting go of your clit. While his skilled fingers work on your pussy helping you ride out your orgasm.
He removes his mouth and fingers from you tenderly, not wanting to hurt you in any kind of way. His face glistening with your slick and his lips look swollen. He moves to lay next to you on your bed. You're slowly coming down from your high. Your breathing evening out as you come to. You both lay there in silence for a few minutes.
"Can I taste you now?" Your voice sounding small as you asked.
"Fuck." He murmured under his breath.
"Yeah, you can taste me." He whispers back.
Moving to sit back between his legs, you reached to take off his pants off. He helped you by wiggling them down his legs and discarding them to the floor. You notice how painfully hard he is in his boxers, and you lick your lips. Hooking your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down. His his cock spring free hitting his belly button. The head an angry red leaking precum down his shaft. He hisses when the cool air hits sensitive his tip. Your eyes widened at the size of him. You now know he was telling the truth. He was big, and you don't know how you're gonna be able to fit all of him in your mouth.
He grabs it, giving it a few light strokes eagerly waiting for your mouth. Precum still dripping alongside it, getting on his hand.
"Don't be shy." His voice low and deep just like how he spoke to you that night on the radio. "I hope you'll let me be inside you one day."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? He bites his lip, waiting for your response.
"Yes." Your voice barely above a whisper.
His eyebrows raise, and a cocky grin spreads across his face. "You felt so tight taking my fingers. I can only imagine how you must feel when I'm spreading you open."
"Just thinking about you taking my cock. The little noises you'd make as you're begging for more."
He presses his thumb on the leaking slit his mouth forming an O shape at the pressure. The veins along his shaft are prominent from the amount of blood rushing to his cock.
"Making you cry because it feels so good." He's breathing heavier while eyeing you in front of him. He wants to get you worked up until you can't take it anymore. Teasing was his favorite part before anything. He didnt even have to touch anyone before he had them begging to be fucked in some type of way.
He kept going on. The way he was speaking to you brought you right back to the night you called him. You squeeze your thighs tightly together, desperate for any small amount of friction.
"Gonna think about that tight pussy when I'm cuming down your throat." His voice deep and seductive. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Hes thinking about all the ways he'd fuck you. Imagining what your pretty tits would look like with his cum is dripping down them. Filling you up with his cum and watching it dripping out after removing his cock.
Watching him stroke his cock as he thinks about fucking you makes your pussy flutter. You wonder what he must feel like. The feeling of him stretching you open. You're getting tired of him taunting you. You needed to taste him now.
You smacked his hand away, replacing it with your own, giving it a few more light strokes. You move your thumb to press down on his tip. He grunts and bangs his head back against your headboard. You bend down to give the head of his cock a quick peck. You remove your hand and spit into it as you grasp his thick shaft, rubbing it up and down lazily. His mouth hangs open as relaxes and enjoys what you're doing.
Moving your mouth closer, you kitten licked at his tip, tasting his precum. His thrusts his hips as you continue teasing him like he did to you earlier. You take the opportunity to pull away and spit directly on his cock earning you low groan deep from his chest. You begin to suck on the head of cock. Using your spit mixed with his precum as a lubricant to continue stroking his hard length with your hand.
Gliding your mouth down his length until he's hitting the back of your throat, making you gag a little. You removed your hand, resting them on his thighs. You try relaxing your throat while taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. He wasn't even all the way in, and he's already has you gagging. Tears leaking from your eyes smudging your mascara.
"Oh! fuck!, c-careful, sweetheart." He coaxed you.
Drool spilling down your chin as you try to take more of him in your throat. You attempt to keep him back there and focus on breathing from your nose. Sucking lightly on him, you pull him all the way out and swirl your tongue around his tip. "Hmm! your mouth feels so fucking good."
Your tongue wet and warm teasing the head of his cock. Eddie does everything in his power to not push you back down on his length.
He breathed heavily. "Shit! I-I not gonna last if you keep doing that."
Removing his cock from your mouth, creating a loud pop in his absence.
"you like it when I tease your cock eddie?"You asked in a sultry voice.
You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.
"Look who's not so shy afterall." He taunted you
You don't know what has come over you suddenly, but having him here in your bed tonight gave you a boost of confidence you never knew you had.
Putting the head of his cock to your mouth sucking it firmly almost forcing him to answer. "Y-yeah I like...I like the way you're teasing me."
You slip his length back down as far he could go in your throat, swallowing around him.
Hearing him like that only spurred you on more. Sucking his cock a little harder than before. Your head bobbing up and down faster. Your other hand moves to cup his balls, and he jerks at the feeling. The sensation of you massaging his balls and your mouth working on his cock practically sends him into a coma of bliss. His abs flexing and his toes curl. His entire body glistened with sweat. "Shit i-im gonna fuck... I'm gonna cum."
"You're gonna make me cum." He panted above you.
With a few more pumps of your hand and mouth sucking harder on his length. You feel his cock twitch and he's shooting his cum deep down your throat. Some spilling out and leaked from the corners of your mouth. He moans out loud and holds your head down until he's finished. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could take. Your mouth not leaving until you're collecting every bit. " S-sweetheart, please."
You let him go with a long string of saliva connecting you to his cock, his cum dripping down your chin. You collect it on your fingertips, bringing it to your mouth, not wanting to waste a drop. Sucking your fingers clean enjoying the salty taste of his cum.
He goes limp as he comes down from his high. His eyes glossed over watching your every move as you lick his cum from your fingers.
You moved to lay back next to him as you wait to see if he will soon leave. His chest rose and fell calmly now, but his head was still foggy. You don't want him to go, but you understand if he does.
"Thank you for tonight" you turn to smile weakly at him.
"No problem." He snorted.
There is a long, drawn-out pause, and you decided it time to tell him your secret.
"Um, I have something to confess to you." You're nervous, and he can tell.
He sit up straight and looks over at you, concern etched on his face. "Yeah? "
"Well, umm, I was the one who called you that night.....on your show." You confessed, looking down, playing with your thumbs.
He blinked, taking in what you just said. Not really sure if he heard you right or if he's still a little dazed.
"Are-- are you serious? " He sounded a little harsh, but he didn't intend to. That night was all he could think about since it happened. You were all he could think about. He lost hours and hours of sleep coming up with different possible scenarios on how he would find you. Who you could possibly be.
"Yeah. Are you mad?" You look over at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
His face softens immediately when he notices. "Are you kidding?"
"I've been thinking about you ever since." He sprang up on his knees with excitement scooting closer to you.
You wipe at your eyes and laugh when he takes your hands into his. The fear that was building up moments ago slowly fading away."Really?"
"Oh, you're definitely not getting rid of me now." He exclaimed.
"So, do you maybe want to go out again?" You shyly asked.
"Fuck yeah I do!" He celebrated clapping his his hands together.
You laughed at his excitement. Making you feel so much better now that you got that off your chest. No one has ever made you feel like this before. You felt like you've known him forever even though you just met in person. "Can I call you... like all the time?"
"Yes, absolutely you can." You giggle.
"Hope you don't mind late night ramblings and bad puns," He advised.
"I love bad puns."
He laid back down next, throwing an arm around you. The both of you stayed like that for the rest of the night. Staying up for hours laughing and telling each other stories about your life. You wish you and him didn't have to ever leave this bed.
Another couple of days have passed, and you really haven't heard much again from him since your date. You were starting to think he was just saying all of that stuff because he thought it was something you wanted to hear. You tried not to think like that and just chalked it up to him being extremely busy because he was.
He did talk about you a little bit on his show but never mentioned you were also the mystery caller everyone has been gossiping about. You listened in biting at your nails when he talked about going on a date with a cutie from the coffee shop across from campus.
Eddie never once talked about hooking up with you, and you're grateful for that. He didn't use your date as a way to have another story for his show. He genuinely wanted to take you out and have a nice time. He didn't hook up for a new story to keep his segment interesting. Most of the girls he was with actually asked him to talk about it. Otherwise, he never would have done it to begin with.
You sat on your bed feet dangling over the side, contemplating if you should just bite the bullet and call first. You don't wanna seem desperate, but you also really want to see him again. He agreed to go on another date with you. Since you haven't heard much else from him, you don't want to come off pushy.
Maybe you should call first? Let him know you're equally as interested in him.
You snatch up the phone and the little piece of paper he gave with his number on it. Putting in the digits and waiting for the dial tone to start ringing. You felt like you were waiting forever, but it's only been a few seconds. You were almost ready to hang up and pretend this never happened until you heard him answer.
"H-hello?" He panted into the phone.
He sounded like he was currently in the middle of something. What that something is you don't know yet.
"Hi, it's me....just wanted to call and check in with you." You spoke softly in the other end.
"Y-yeah, uhh, I'm doing good." He stumbled over his words.
He sounded out of breath, and now you're really hoping you didn't interrupt him. Especially if he has company at his place. The thought of that makes you feel a little sick. You're not dating him and barely even know him. You shouldn't feel this way even if he did have someone over. "I can let you go. You seem a little busy."
"Wait, don't hang up!" He exclaimed.
He ponders for a moment on how he can keep you on the other line.
"Wanna help me...with... something? " he asked with a nervous laugh.
You swallow hard before answering. "What do you need?"
You hear him curse under his breath in your ear. Low grunts can be heard, and it doesn't take long before you can figure out what's going on.
"W--wanna talk to you while I fuck this toy." He breathed heavy.
You go to lay back on your bed playing with the hem of your pajama shorts. You know what he wants you to do. Since he helped you out, you might as well do the same for him. It's only fair, right? The last time you did this, hundreds of people were listening. This time, it's just the two of you. Making the situation more intimate, but it also helps take the edge off.
Eddie was currently balls deep in his fleshlight when you called. He just got out of the shower hair still wet and sticking to his body. All day long, he kept thinking about you. He's been painfully hard and wanted to see if he could come over to your place again but didn't want to be so forward. He didn't want you to think he was using you to get off. He really really liked you and hoped there could be something more between the two of you. So he was going to do what he normally would and take of it himself. That was until you called him, and it sparked a little idea in his brain.
He was leaning back against a wall with one hand on a chair next to him, trying to keep his balance upright. Lube was all over his toy, leaking out onto the soft curls between his legs and balls. He glided the toy up and down his length at a steady pace trying not to cum so soon already. His mind races with vivid thoughts of you.
"What do you think about when you do that?" Your voice coming out so small in his ear.
He smiles to himself. "Well I--was thinking about you."
"Like, what exactly?" You played innocent.
Eddie knows what game you're playing, and he has no problem going along with it. He pulls his cock almost all the way out of the toy only to slam it back down hard causing him to groan loud. His legs almost giving out from under him. He pulled out the chair next to him and plopped down.
Biting his lip to stifle another moan.
"Thinkin' about you squeezing around me." He breathed heavily in your ear. "Wishing this was your pussy instead of some..F-fucking toy."
Sinking his cock back inside making a loud schlick noise you can faintly hear in the phone. Pumping his cock while his other hand runs along his abdomen. He's trying to balance the phone between his shoulder and cheek praying he doesnt drop it. His face and chest flushed a crimson red. He lets out a loud moan when he thrusts upward. "Ooh! Shit!"
"Did I feel good?" You purred into the phone.
"God yes--- so fucking tight. the way you hugged my fingers when i was knuckle deep inside you."
You squeeze your thighs together involuntarily, and you can feel a wetness pool in between your legs. You bite down on your lip hard listening as he fucks himself while talking about you. You want to touch yourself so badly. Your nipples hardening under the sheer thin material of your tank top.
Pumping his cock faster in the toy, lube splashing all over his pelvis and wrist dripping down onto the of floor. He's making a total mess and he doesn't care. He thinks about how messy he could make you.
You interrupt him from his thoughts
"What do you wanna do to me?" You whisper.
"Fuuuck, I wanna do the nastiest things to you." His voice ragged.
Moving the toy up and down his cock as he spoke in the phone, trying to keep It balanced as best he could.
He lets out whimper, "Wanna fill you up with my cum and clean it out of you with my tongue."
"W-wanna..fuuuck...wanna cum all over those pretty tits." He's panting and grunting louder in your ear.
....."Yeah?" You cooed.
"Make you cum in all sorts of ways you never even imagined you could."
He legs kick up, and his stomach tightens. He was getting close but didn't want this to end, not yet.
You're still lying in bed, looking up at your ceiling. You never thought you'd have this burst of confidence yet again, but it's different with him. You don't feel ashamed of anything. The way he's coming undone just by talking to you only made you never want to stop. You felt empowered.
There is a throbbing ache between your legs that you desperately want to take care of. You try to ignore it and put all of your focus on him. You wiggle around clenching up. Doing anything to ease that ache.
"Tell me what you think about you when you touch yourself." He breathed.
"You think of me?"
"Yeah," you muttered quietly.
"So tell me." He commanded gently.
You stammered. "I um, I think about what you would feel like inside me."
"Oh yeah?" His voice getting low.
Goosebumps prickle all over your skin when he does that voice. You squirm in your bed just thinking about that night he used it when he helped you cum over the phone. It was domineering and seductive.
"Mmhm, you're so big." You whimper.
"I don't think I could fit all of you."
"Fuuuck." He groans
"You wanna feel my cock struggling to stretch you open? Is that it?"
You whined into the phone. "Yes, I need it so bad Eddie."
His cock steadily plunging in out of his toy in a brutal pace. He's getting closer to his release, and the phone drops with a loud thud in your ear. His other hand moving to cup his balls mimicking how you massaged them. His hips thrusting up and all you can hear is the squelching sound his cock is making in the toy.
"Oooh shit!" He groaned louder. With a few more strokes and he's spilling his cum inside the toy. Still pumping his length, milking himself of every drop. His cum spilling out and coating his balls. He lays there in the chair, head falling back before realizing he dropped the phone. His head all foggy, and his vision is blury.
He went to get up, but his legs gave out, and he fell back down.
"Shit"
"Fuck"
You heard him cursing from afar. You laughed to yourself, knowing he probably had fallen down.
"Hang on!" He called out
He leans over and reaches out far to snatch up the phone off the floor. His breathing is ragged when he goes to talk. "I've never came that hard in my life."
Smacking a hand on his belly he changes the subject.
"Okay, so what were you originally calling me about? " He asked still panting in the phone.
"Umm, well, I wanted to see if you were still up for going out again....Maybe?" You closed your eyes, waiting for his response.
"Yeah, actually, you know my band is playing Wednesday. Why don't you come see us." He said matter of factly. Like you didn't just help him jerk off on the other line.
You don't understand how one minute he can say some of the most dirtiest things to you and the next be totally nonchalant. All you want to do now is hang up and take care of the ache between your legs.
"I'd love to!" You accept his offer excitement etched in your tone.
He lets out a laugh. "Great, it's a date."
Before you both go to hang up, he stops you.
..."Oh, and thank you for helping me this time." His tone sultry.
Your eyebrows shot up, and you gulp. "No problem--it was fun."
"Goodnight, Eddie." You said sweetly.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
You both stay on the line, neither one wanting to be the first to hang up. Eventually, you had to hang up first since it seemed like he wasn't going to be the one to do it. You roll over on your side, trying to relax and ready yourself for sleep. Your mind racing with excitement that you're finally going to see him play.
Maybe after your date, Eddie can take you back to his place this time. The ache between your legs was not subsiding. You needed him, and after your date, you decided it was time to have him.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson fanfic#my writing#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader smut#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie x y/n#90!eddie#shy!reader#college!eddie
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Off-Limits: Ch. 1
Bucky Barnes x Reader: Mafia AU
Summary: Bucky Barnes wants the one thing he can't have, and he'll go to great lengths to get what he wants. The tension between the two of you makes it impossible for him to think rationally.
Warnings: profanity, possessive!Bucky, mentions of firearms, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: I've been thinking about writing something like this for a few weeks but I'm typically not an AU kinda girl so stick with me. Bucky is intentionally out of character in this but hopefully a few of you will like him this way. Also, THANK YOU ILY for the little bullets and foliage art for my timeskips @littlemiss-yeehaw. She is an angel, an inspiration, I love her.
Off-limits. Nothing has ever pissed James Bucky Barnes off more than the phrase off-limits. The fact that it’s you who’s been labeled off-limits only adds to the fiery rage that’s steadily growing inside of him.
Bucky leans back in his desk chair, running his flesh hand through his hair while he goes over his options in his mind. He could just take you. He could give a few orders and have you in front of him by nightfall, though he isn’t quite sure how he feels about starting a war simply because he’s thinking with his cock rather than his head. He could have a sit-down meeting with the man he detests most in this world, the man who currently has total control over your future. He could make an offer, bargain for the right to have you to himself. No, that sounds too polite.
The sound of a fist rapping against the heavy wooden door of his office breaks Bucky out of his thoughts.
“You told me to come back at eight, so here I am. What did you decide?” Sam asks, shutting the door behind him after entering. He’s itching to do something, anything. His life has been hell ever since Bucky first laid eyes on you. It’s as if the entire fucking operation dropped to the bottom of the totem pole while you rose to the top. It would be great if he could bash a few heads in, fire a few rounds, and deliver you to his boss tonight so he could fuck away whatever this newfound obsession is and get back to being the cunning, ruthless mob boss he’s meant to be.
“We’re paying my least favorite lowlife a visit.”
Just like that, James Bucky Barnes and his entourage of over-eager gunmen are on their way to your house, to see your father.
As you tiptoe down the mahogany stairs of your childhood home, your bare feet just barely gracing each step, you forget for a moment that you’re not a little girl anymore. You can hear the distant sound of low voices and tense discussion coming from your father’s home office near the bottom of the staircase. When you were younger, those sounds would’ve had the hair on the back of your neck standing up and you would’ve been hightailing it right back to your bedroom. You’re not so timid anymore. The man already holds your entire life in the palm of his hand, molding and shaping it however he sees fit. What’s the point in trying to abide by his rules when it’ll never get you anything other than exactly what he wants for you? So, you continue your daring trip to the kitchen, with the hem of your oversized t-shirt skimming along the skin beneath the curve of your ass and your heart set on a late-night snack.
Bucky sits across from your father’s desk, his jaw aching due to the number of times he’s caught himself clenching his teeth together during the past hour of deliberations. As he lifts his hand to massage the sore muscle along the side of his face, he hears the sound of a wooden floorboard creaking somewhere outside of the room that he currently sits in. He shifts his gaze around the room, noting the way his own men, your father, and your father’s men all seem oblivious to the miniscule noise that came from somewhere in the house.
“It doesn’t matter how long we sit here and go through this. My daughter is not getting married, she isn’t on the table.” Your father’s tone, though resolved and sure, doesn’t match the look in his eye. It’s a look that lets Bucky know you’re not actually off the table, he just hasn’t made the right offer yet. The words echo in his head for a moment: on the table.
Fuck. If he sits here for another second, picturing you physically on top of a damn table, he might make an unreasonable offer just to turn that fantasy into a reality. It’s what prompts Bucky to rise to his feet suddenly, reaching into the pocket of his black suit pants to retrieve his phone and act as if he’s going to make a call, maybe a call to check on things within his business to see what else he can offer the piece of shit who sits in front of him. In reality, he’s making up an excuse to get the hell out of that stuffy office and clear his mind just enough to close the deal.
“Let me make a call.” Bucky says evenly, shooting your father a steely look. Your father leans back in his desk chair, relaxing for the first time since his rival showed up on your doorstep an hour ago. When Sam and Torres make moves to follow Bucky out of the office, Bucky holds up a hand, signaling for them to stop. “Stay, I won’t be long.”
Leaving his suit jacket draped over the back of the armchair he had been sitting in, Bucky steps out of the office and guides the door to shut as quietly as possible. It’s fucked up, what he’s doing here. He knows that good and well. Offering large sums of money, offering obscene amounts of quality product, offering a damn near eternal truce in the streets…all to have a woman he barely knows. As his eyes adjust to the darkness of his enemy’s home, he casts a glance up the staircase by the office door, wondering if you’re awake up there. Are you sitting in your posh bedroom without a single worry plaguing your pretty little mind? Are you sleeping soundly as he barters with your father for the right to have you all to himself? Or are you thinking about him too, about the handful of times you’ve run into each other over the past two months?
Shaking his head to clear his mind of all thoughts of you, Bucky takes a few steps to his left and turns the corner at the bottom of the stairs, entering the kitchen soundlessly. That’s where he finds you, hidden behind the open refrigerator door as you rummage around for a snack. He sees your bare legs first, peeking out beneath the half-door. He clenches his teeth and tightens his grip on the phone in his right hand simultaneously. It fucking hurts just to look at you.
“Your father lets you walk around like that with guests in the house?” He seethes. Startled, you shove the refrigerator door shut just before dropping the container of blueberries in your hand. As the plastic container goes crashing to the kitchen floor, blueberries scatter around your feet. James. When your eyes land on him, you can see the look of disdain all over his face. He despises you, you’re sure of it. Never one to take shit from a man, you narrow your eyes at him before crouching down and positioning yourself on your knees. Bucky watches intently as you pick up the blueberries one by one, placing them back into the plastic container.
“I don’t think my father considers you a guest.” You whisper the insult just loud enough for him to hear it, but not loud enough for your voice to carry over to your father’s office. Bucky’s squeezing his phone so tightly in his hand that he’s already thinking about having to send someone out to pick up a new one for him tomorrow, because surely, he’s shattering the screen of it. It isn’t your cute little attempt at a comeback that’s irking him. It’s the fact that you’re still on your knees, with your t-shirt riding up your thighs and your eyes lifting to meet his gaze as if you have no idea what effect you’re having on him. He’s sure you aren’t that naïve, which means you’re doing this shit on purpose.
“Get up.” He says through his teeth. You narrow your eyes at him before cocking your head to the side and picking up another fallen berry. It’s a test. He wants to see if you’ll listen to him. The way Bucky sees it, if you listen to his command and stand up, he’ll feel a bit better about going to all of this trouble to have you. It would tell him that although you’re defiant and like to talk back, you still know how to do what you’re told. But if you don’t listen? He can think of a few enjoyable ways to break you of that bad habit.
“What would my father do if he knew you were in here telling me what to do?” The question leaves your lips with the intention of being threatening, but Bucky’s hard stare and cold expression melds into a look of mild amusement. You pick up one of the last few remaining blueberries and drop it into the plastic container, keeping your gaze steady on the cold-blooded man a few feet in front of you. You watch with masked curiosity as he tucks his phone into the pocket of his suit pants and begins rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt. He notices the way your eyes fixate on his black and gold arm, the way you almost seem fascinated by it. When he uses his metal hand to roll up the sleeve on his right arm, your focus shifts to the tattoos covering the majority of his flesh forearm. It isn’t your eyes that tell Bucky you like what you see. It’s the way you subtly clench your thighs together as you drop another berry into the container. You don’t shy away, you don’t move even an inch as he begins walking toward you. Even when he comes to a stop in front of you, close enough that the toes of his dress shoes are nearly touching your knees, you stay where you are. You look up at him through your lashes without tilting your head upward, refusing to move any more than just your eyes for a man that you know would take a mile if you gave him an inch.
“What would your father do if he knew you were on your knees in front of me?” He lifts his flesh hand toward your face, expecting you to flinch away or refuse his touch, but you don’t even blink as he lets his fingertips trace the curve of your jaw. He drags his fingers downward, until he’s in the right spot to curl them beneath your chin and force you to tilt your head up for him. Again, you don’t resist him. “Get out of here before someone else sees you like this.”
It isn’t at all what Bucky wanted to say to you, not even close. But it was what needed to be said. If anyone else had walked out of your father’s office and stolen the privilege of seeing you looking so pretty on your knees like that, he would’ve shot them dead right there in the kitchen. Whether it was one of your father’s men or his own, he wouldn’t have given a shit. So, Bucky lets his hand fall away from your chin, but he doesn’t step away. You reach down for the container of blueberries and grasp it in your right hand as you move to stand, keeping your eyes locked on Bucky’s the entire time. You want to shove him, to tell him he has no right to tell you what to do, especially not in your father’s home. At the same time, you wouldn’t be opposed to tracing the tattoos on his flesh forearm with your lips. What is it about this man that makes your rational mind war with the rest of your body?
When you step around Bucky a second later, setting the container of blueberries on the island in the center of the kitchen before heading toward the stairs, he has to fight the urge to reach out and grab you. Not now, not yet. You’re not his yet. When you round the corner of the kitchen and begin tiptoeing up to your room, Bucky makes his way to the bottom of the stairs and watches you silently as you take each step. You don’t look back as you make it to the landing and turn right, disappearing behind a wall. When he hears the faint sound of your bedroom door closing, he reaches into the back pocket of his suit pants and retrieves a small silver cylinder. It sits heavy in his hand as he pulls his gun from the back waistband of his pants. As Bucky screws the silencer onto the barrel of his gun, a distant voice in the back of his mind is screaming at him to be rational about this. Don’t do it. Don’t go to such insane lengths for a woman you don’t even know. Don’t spill blood on these nice mahogany floors.
When he enters the office a few seconds later, he fires two shots. The first into the shoulder of your father’s righthand man, and the second into the thigh of the other hired gun. His face is emotionless as he steps over their bloody, writhing bodies and presses the cool metal of the silencer against your father’s temple. Bucky only has to speak one sentence to let the man know that he isn’t to be fucked with.
“We make a deal tonight, or I make your daughter an orphan.”
TAG LIST:
@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @sadeyes61 @aka-tua-braindump @immortalfangirl
#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#the winter soldier#winter soldier#mafia bucky x you#mafia bucky x reader#mafia bucky barnes
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Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.
Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.
He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.
"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.
He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?
Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.
He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.
Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.
Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.
Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.
Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.
"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."
Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."
Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"
Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.
"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."
"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."
"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.
Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."
"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.
"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.
"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."
They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.
"Working on new music?"
Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.
"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"
Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."
"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."
He grimaces. "That's a low bar."
"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.
"Shut-up."
"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."
"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"
"No, not at all. Just curious."
"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"
"Gossip," Eddie frowns.
"Anyone else you got your eye on?"
"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.
"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.
Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"
Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."
"Are you lonely?"
"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."
"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.
"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"
"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"
"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.
"The one that got away?"
"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."
Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"
"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"
"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."
Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.
"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."
"Wait, Steve--"
"See you around."
He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.
Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.
"Eddie, I don't--"
"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."
"What?"
"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."
"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?
"God, since 1986, at least."
Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.
"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"
"You're mine too," the words tumble out.
"What?"
"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."
"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"
"Pathetic gay yearning and all."
Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.
Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.
Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."
"It's been a decade!"
"Fuck," Eddie cackles.
They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.
"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.
Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"
"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."
"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"
Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."
Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#oneshot#angst#friends to lovers#angst with a happy ending#idiots in love#mutual pining#famous eddie munson#rockstar eddie munson#regular guy steve harrington#pathetic gay yearning#fluff#the one that got away#second chances#getting together
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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."
I hope you enjoyed <3 Pls reblog and leave feedback if you can :)
Tags: @voicesinmyhead-rc
#ateez x reader#ateez fic#ateez fanfic#ateez smut#beginningofwonderland#smut fanfic#ateez fanfiction#san smut#san x y/n#san x reader#san fanfic#san x you
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The President
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader
W/C: 3.2k
Warnings: SMUT!!, Livia is also a warning.
(this is getting out of hand now. someone please for the love of GOD stop me from writing these. also the president thing got away from me in this one and i feel sick.) (EDIT: here’s part 2 babes, as requested!) (requests r open, send me stuff here)
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“Well, Felix will obviously get it." You'd hardly been listening to the conversation at hand, but Lysistrata seemed to be making a point that you wouldn't want to miss, given her excessive gesturing whilst talking, "His father was the last President, and he was great, I'm sure they'll take that into consideration-"
"But Festus is smarter." Livia cut in, snippish as always, pointed nose turned up and drink poised, looking like a judging, middle-aged woman. "And he's got the grades to prove it. And he was thought of very highly within the University, you know."
"But what about Pup? Surely he'll make a better president than Festus, and I dare say Felix, aswell." Clemensia was next to make her point, "Eugh, thinking about Festus at school, how sloppy he was," She'd turned to you, now, "Do you remember that? How on earth could he make a good president?"
"But he's different now, Clemmie, such a great husband, and he'll be such a great President, when he gets the position later." Livia was always so disgustingly sure of herself, it made you want to tell her to shut up, and then, after the fact, lock yourself in your apartment for the next few hours and scream into a pillow. "What about you, Y/N? Who do you think will get it?"
You hadn't even bothered to listen to what the rest of the women thought the pros and cons of their respective husbands being President of Panem, were. Your ears had only really perked up upon hearing your name come from Livia's puckered little mouth. "Well, I think you're discounting Coriolanus."
This warranted an eruption of laughter from all of the women around you, Clemmie laughed so hard that she had to grip your arm for support, and Livia pointed her glass at the rest of your former classmates and laughed with them over your statement. "You can't be serious!" Livia shrieked. "I mean, I know he's your husband and all, sweetie, but he's a total rule breaker, they need someone reliable, trustworthy! Your Coriolanus isn't anything of the sort."
Your Coriolanus. It almost made your face crack into a smile, and you had to roll your tongue around in your mouth to keep from giggling like the schoolgirl you once were. You'd only been married to Coriolanus for three days, but you'd had to postpone your honeymoon so that he could go ahead with his running for President of Panem. It didn't feel quite real, yet, that you'd married your childhood sweetheart, and hearing Livia refer to him as your husband, as much as you hated her, made your head spin with happiness.
"He'd be more than capable, Livia. He's smart, incredibly smart, and that's been recognised, too. And he's seen more of Panem than anyone you'd consider to be a prime candidate. Dr Gaul loves him, surely her vote is better counted than most anyone else's." You countered. Normally, you wouldn't involve yourself with such arguments. Your high school friends had been married a lot longer than you had, settled at twenty as opposed to your wedding at twenty-three, and you'd always had the gruelling job of listening in on them competing with eachother.
Who's husband was best at this, who's was best at that? Who's father-in-law was richest, who's husband had bought them the bigger house after the wedding, who's husband fucked them the most and who's was best? You'd vowed to yourself that, when the time came, and you and Coryo finally married, you wouldn't bother telling anyone much of your personal life.
"I suppose you have a point." Clemensia was easily the nicest out of your friends, the only one you really enjoyed the company of, and she liked Coriolanus, too. While the others only seemed to slander him, what with his stint in the games and his time as a Peacekeeper, she only ever seemed to speak about him from a place of friendship. "Coriolanus is smart, and Dr Gaul adores him, remember when we mentored? He'd have won the Plinth prize, for sure, if everything else hadn't happened."
"But it did, though, Clemensia. It did happen, and I think his chances have been ruined, if I'm honest." Lysistrata made her first comment in a few minutes.
"They've definitely been ruined. I mean, half of the Capitol think he's a rebel." Livia scoffed.
"But the other half think he's brilliant. A young, complex mind. Someone who doesn't think like the rest of us do." You took a sip from your drink, and Livia scowled at you. She knew you were right, and, although Livia always had a counter argument, she seemed lost on this one. "I suppose we'll have to wait. Maybe the half of us who think he's great will outweigh the half who don't."
"I suppose we will, slim chance and all, but..." Livia shrugged and clicked her tongue. "We won't be waiting too long, look."
She gestured to the television, which had been playing commentary from Lucretius 'Lucky' Flickerman, and had now switched to all four men standing uniformly on a stage, crowds surrounding them. Lucky uttered something about how the last votes had now been cast, and so it was time to announce the President.
Livia gasped and grabbed your hand, then Lysistrata's, and Clemensia took hold of your other one, giving it a slight squeeze and sending a small smile your way. "This is it!" Livia announced dramatically.
"Hold tight, ladies! One of us is about to be First Lady of Panem." It was painfully obvious, when Livia said 'one of us', that she meant herself. You knew she wouldn't even think about being happy for any of the rest of you, should it be anyone other than Festus claiming the title.
"Here, we have our four presidential candidates." Lucky announced on the television, "All Academy and University graduates, we have, Festus Creed, Felix Ravinstill, Pliny Harrington, and, last but not least, Coriolanus Snow!"
You smiled softly when the camera panned over the boys on stage, your childhood friends, your husband, standing side by side, all up for the position of President. Coriolanus' suit was pressed to perfection by Tigris, and you'd done his hair for him that morning, he looked amazing - handsome, professional, presidential.
"Now, in this envelope, I have the name of the man, out of these four, who will become President of Panem." Lucky flashed a black and gold envelope, and then stalled for a few seconds, having a pigeon fly out of his sleeve, and making an out of place remark about magic.
"The time has come." The broadcast was incredibly dramatic, and you wished he'd just cut the unnecessary stuff and put you all out of your misery. "The new President of Panem, is..."
The silence of Lucky's pause was filled with Livia clamping a hand over her mouth and squealing, you wished even further that she would just be quiet.
"Coriolanus Snow!"
You'd hardly been expecting him to actually win, but Coryo had put so much of himself into his campaign, and you felt a huge sense of pride wash over you as the cameras closed in on him and his face lit up in one of his stunning, toothy grins. Your eyes widened in shock, and you heard Clemmie laugh excitedly.
"Congratulations!" She let go of your hand and threw her arms around you. "Coriolanus deserves this, really, he does, and so do you!"
You hadn't a clue what to say to anyone, whether to revel in your glory or to extend your sympathy that their husbands hadn't won, but, when you turned to see Livia's face, bright red and obviously stewing in anger, and Lysistrata's dropped in sheer disappointment, you almost laughed out loud.
"I suppose the part of the Capitol who love Coryo is bigger than the part who don't." You smiled sweetly at Livia. "I wish Festus better luck next time.”
-
The rest of the day dragged on, Livia had only been letting her anger fester and had hardly said a word since the announcement - you certainly weren't complaining - and the rest of the girls were simply flooding you with questions, congratulations, and stories from when they'd been growing up with Coriolanus, as though reminding you of the fact they'd been there since before he was President.
The reporters had become an issue, too. Coryo had warned you about them, kneeling in front of you after fastening the straps of your high heels that morning. "They'll try to bleed you dry, whether I win or not. Just try to ignore them, don't give them much. All they want is a story." And then, he'd kissed you and smoothed your hair down, soothing you on what he knew was already a nerve-wracking morning.
You tried to remember his words, solidified with that kiss, every time they approached you. Don't give them too much, but don't give them nothing, ignore them where you can, wait until you've been properly trained on how to give interviews. It began to dawn on you that your entire life might start to feel like this, now, and you made a mental note to tell Coryo all of your concerns later and let him silence them for you.
You didn't see your husband for almost an hour after the announcement, and most of the women you'd been with before the broadcast were badly drunk by the time he showed his face. It was in the middle of a particularly slurred story, about something that Clemmie absolutely should not have been telling every female University graduate that she knew, that you'd felt the large, familiar hand snake it's way around your waist.
You turned to find Coryo standing there, beaming down at you. "Hello, First Lady." He mused. You smiled so widely at him, and quickly pulled his face down to connect your lips in an almost too suggestive kiss, earning whoops from the crowd of girls you'd gone to school with.
"Sorry, ladies, I'm going to borrow my wife for a while, if you don't mind." Coryo smiled to everyone, and then accepted side-hugs and kisses on the cheek and congratulations from everybody around you.
Afterwards, he quickly pressed his hands to either side of your waist and started to guide you through the crowd of people, avoiding reporters where he could and, where he couldn't, telling them he'd give them a proper interview later, but had somewhere to be at that moment. Most everyone you passed would clap him on the shoulder or shriek something that sounded congratulatory.
Eventually, you reached an empty hall, with large hardwood doors and, inside, marble pillars and polished stone floors. You looked around, amazed, you'd never been to this particular building before, but every room you'd gone into so far was a marvel in itself.
"I don't have long, shouldn't even be away from everything going on at all, but I couldn't resist seeing you any longer." Coryo admitted, face flushed as though this was a first date. You smiled gratefully at him.
"Thought I was going to die if I had to speak to anyone else from the Academy. I mean, how annoying is everyone we went to school with?" Coryo chuckled, approaching you and enveloping you in his arms. His suit smelled of roses, like always, and it calmed you so deeply that you wanted to stay that way forever, inhaling his scent and forgetting about every other responsibility you had.
"I'm sorry I left you with them for so long. Especially Livia, even Festus isn't as mad as she is." Coryo held you at an arms length and smoothed your hair affectionately. You leaned into his hand.
"She's certainly been a pleasure." You joked.
Coriolanus laughed and then, quickly, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard and making you smile against him. "Wanted to come and see you because I couldn't stop thinking about you." He explained, lips becoming rougher on yours by the second.
You knew exactly what he meant, as his hand squeezed your waist and he backed you into one of the pillars. "That car ride here, you're such a tease, and all for me, hmm?"
"All for you." You agreed, breathlessly.
"Such a bad girl, though. Getting me all riled up like that and not doing anything about it. Making me flustered, I was struggling to talk to people, just thinking about fucking you." His fingers ran from your cheek, down your neck and to your collarbone, which was exposed and red hot with arousal, "And you're so flushed, honey, makes me wonder if, maybe, you did this on purpose. Maybe you wanted me to think about it all day, wanted me to be pining for you, didn't you?"
You were quiet, just revelling in the way his rough fingers felt against your skin. Coryo’s voice hardened slightly, and the sense of authority had you sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. “Answer me, sweetheart."
"I wanted you to think of me, Coryo." You reached out and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “I love knowing you're thinking about me."
"Oh, baby, I'm always thinking about you." His eyes raked over your body and you suddenly felt naked under his gaze. “But I think, after your little stint earlier, getting me so hard in the car and then having me walk through a crowd like that where you knew people would see, you need to be punished."
"Mm," You hummed. "And what would my punishment be, President Snow."
Coryo practically growled upon hearing you call him that, the power of it all, and he gripped you roughly by the back of the neck and slammed his lips onto yours, a clash of teeth and tongue, so rough, so hot. "I wasn't going to do this, but, I have to take care of this," He pointed to his clothed, but very obvious erection. "So, be a good girl and bend over that railing for me, will you?"
"What?" Your voice was blunt and your eyes wide. Never had Coryo asked you to do anything of the sort. You were all for commands in the bedroom, in the kitchen, even in the car, but he'd never been so public about it. "Coryo, there are so many people out there. Someone could walk in."
"I don't care, sugar, I'm the President now, remember?" His fingers had curled around your chin, tilting it upwards for you to look at him. “Don't you think it's my right to be able to fuck my wife wherever I please?"
You felt a wetness pooling between your legs at the sound of him calling you his wife, and at how horny he so obviously was, and so, slowly, seductively, you bent over the marble railing, overlooking a staircase and, below, another polished room. You pulled the skirt of your red, silk dress up past your thighs and over the curve of your ass, painfully slowly, never breaking eye contact with Coriolanus, who's mouth was hanging open and you could see his tongue gliding over his top teeth.
"That's it." He coed, positioning himself behind you and pushing your dress up even further, so that your waist and most of your back was on display now, too. He ran his hands over your exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. "That's my girl. If you're good, you'll get your reward later, yeah?"
"And what would my reward be?"
"I'll make you cum so many times you'll be seeing stars, darling, I promise." He bent over you, kissing your neck, “But, for now, let me fuck you, and keep yourself quiet. Can you do that?"
You didn't honestly think you could, you never managed to, even when you pressed a hand to your mouth, bit down on his shoulder or your wrist, your neighbours were still more than able to hear your whimpers and moans. But you nodded, anyway, too excited by his proposal for later on. "Good." He gently moved your hair off of your back and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. "Good girl."
He'd only unzipped his slacks and pushed your skimpy underwear to the side, but that was all he needed, and you were so wet that it made it easy for him to slide straight into you, both of your moans echoing around the hall as he did so.
The sounds of his skin slapping against yours, and your moans, muffled by the palm of your hand, were so ludicrous, here in this huge, pure white room, that it made the experience a hundred times hotter, in your opinion. "You'll be a good girl for me now, won't you? After I've filled you up, you'll be my perfect girl, hmm?"
"Yes, Coryo!" A loud moan left your lips, which only lead Coriolanus to smack your ass once, something that he only did to warn you if you were getting too loud. "I'll be good, I promise."
He was bent fully over you, chest pressed against your back, cheek to your shoulder blade, and his lips being right at your ear had you getting close, every thrust of his hips, every whisper of your name or breathy moan, the way his hands continued to roam your body. "Coryo, I'm getting close." You whispered.
"Hold it. Didn't say you could cum, did I?" You began to protest, but he cut you off before you could even make your point, "You've been a bad girl, and you need to take your punishment seriously. Do you understand?"
You went quiet, the idea of him fucking you, getting you so close only to pull you back, had you lost for words. His hand found your neck, and he squeezed his fingers around it gently, making you cry out in pleasure, "I said, do you understand?"
"Yes! Yes, Coryo, I understand." You whined, "You feel too good."
"Gonna cum." He warned, and only a few seconds later, his hips stuttered against you and he stifled an especially guttural groan against your shoulder as you felt warm ropes of cum filling you up.
His whole body shuddered, and he pressed his face as far into your back as it could go, breathing heavily. When he pulled out of you, leaving you bent over the railing, throbbing and clenching around nothing, a few drops of cum dropped down your leg, and he felt his cock twitching just at the sight.
"It's taking everything in me not to make you cum right here, trust me, sweetheart." Coryo tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you finally managed to stand up - albeit wobbly - and then immediately began fussing over his own hair. "But you need to wait, you understand that, don't you? Need to prove to me you can be good."
"I will, Coryo." You helped him out with his hair, smoothing it gently. "Promise."
"Good girl." He helped you to pull your dress down and fix your underwear, and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'll have to go back out there. Try not to murder Livia for me, okay?"
Coryo opened the door, so that you could both go and rejoin your respective parties, but your legs were shaking so badly you found yourself hardly able to stand, nevermind walk. Coriolanus smirked at this, watching you smugly.
He fixed out his suit jacket, and then leaned in for one last kiss. "I'll see you soon, okay?"
"See you soon, President Snow."
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can we see more of dad ghost ♥︎ im obsessedLMAO
“soft around the edges”
aka when ghost’s son runs up to him in front of the team
(a little part 2 to this fic. part 3 here.)
Soap doesn't share the Lieutenant's secret with the rest of the force.
Things go back to normal after that brief, bizarre encounter with you. When their break is over, Ghost carries on the typical dry humor and sharp orders, pretending that Soap never had dinner at his cozy home and met his pregnant wife.
Though, MacTavish does notice little differences in his stoic superior turned new dad. Ghost is shockingly, and ever-so-slightly, nicer. His language is still foul. But he's a little less rough around the edges: compliments Soap a bit more, tells him to shut the fuck up a little bit less.
It's not something that any of the others notice, of course, which is why they are all so baffled when they finally do figure out about Ghost's secret family.
It's two years later when they are disbanding at a base in the UK that you accidentally reveal yourself.
It's truly an accident.
Whenever you pick him up from the military base, Simon instructs you to wait outside. Says he doesn't want to put you at any risk. But you have a knack for not listening to him. You missed him so much during the past four months, and the two-year-old in your arms was old enough to start asking where his dad was, so you figured you could wait for him inside this time, hidden away in a corner.
Your plan might have worked if it weren't for the swell of your belly making it difficult for you to hold the squirming toddler.
He recognizes his dad even with the skull mask on.
Immediately starts to yelp for him, kicking his little feet around, and giving you no choice but to set the toddler down for a second. But your son is growing so much, and he's got his father's determination.
It's definitely riveting for Soap and the team to witness the whole thing unfold.
At first sight, the waddling two-year-old boy doesn't faze them. There were usually family members and little ones waiting at the gate. Gaz and Price are saying their goodbyes when they both notice that the toddler running around is coming in their direction. Or more specifically, in Ghost's direction.
Soap knows right away what's happening.
Watches with raised brows.
For the rest of the team, this is the first time they witness Ghost's demeanor shift to something so soft and peculiar. His mannerisms give everything away before the kid even reaches him: a typically-unfazed Ghost looks around frantically, probably wondering how the hell his son even got here, until he spots you waddling sheepishly after him.
Oh, fuckin' hell.
You give your husband an apologetic look that says I'm sorry and help me at the same time.
“Can’t believe what I’m seeing," Gaz mutters, watching as Ghost bends down to pick up the small child.
Tell me 'bout it, Soap wants to say. But he's already gone through the initial disbelief two years ago, so now, he simply watches with knowing eyes.
He can't say he didn't spend some time the past two years wondering what kind of parents you and Ghost had become. He knew bits and pieces of his past and hesitantly wondered if Ghost had carried on that behavior.
But now he witnesses the Lieutenant scoop the toddler in his arms, making him look so small against his broad chest. “I’ve got ya, kid.” And he is tucking the boy's head underneath his chin and pressing his masked nose to the top of his hair.
Then, the toddler reaches a small hand to his mask and pats it, perhaps harder than he realizes, but Ghost simply shakes his head and patiently wraps his much larger hand around the curious little one’s.
Ghost is soft and gentle and anything but angry, even though you worried that he might have been.
Everything seems to sink in for the team when they see you finally reach your husband. Your mouth moving to rush out apologies:
"I'm sorry, Simon, I know you said to wait outside. We just really wanted to see you and I tried to hold him and-"
And Ghost might have been frustrated on another day. But on this day, he’s just relieved to see you again. It's apparent to all of the eyes watching that this brooding man, with his deadpan eyes and a trademark mask, is utterly and unabashedly in love with you and the little family you have gifted him. Finally able to fully relax as he wraps an arm around your waist and nuzzles your neck, something you could never imagine him doing in public like this a few years ago.
“S’okay, love,” he tells you. “Can’t be mad, can I? Not when I get to see you two.”
You’re carrying his second child and he hasn't seen you in months and he simply doesn't give a fuck at the moment.
To his team watching, the Lieutenant seems like another person.
They're watching Simon, not Ghost.
"That's his girl, then?" Alejandro finally asks, as they have been frozen in place. Watching in curiosity and bewilderment.
“Wife seems like,” Gaz says. Shooting Soap a curious look, he adds, “Did you know anything about this?”
“Hell,” Soap shrugs to feign innocence. “Didn’t know a thing-“
But, of course, you’re soon waving over at him and smiling before your husband can stop you. “Hi, Johnny!”
Guilty and caught, Soap offers a small wave in return before shaking his head. “Christ, alright. May have ran into them awhile back.”
“And you didn’t tell us, MacTavish?” Gaz scoffs.
“Not my secret to tell,” Soap shrugs again and watches as Ghost caresses your pregnant stomach. He leans down to whisper something in your ear and you smile coyly at him, planting a little kiss to the cheek of his hard mask. Ghost is somehow able to hold you and your son firmly against his chest and still have more room. Must be what had the two of you realizing that a fourth family member was needed.
Soap hears the snide remarks as your family leaves and is out of earshot.
Looks like Ghost keeps himself busy on leave.
You think he helps with the diapers?
The kid’s even got his eyes.
Reckon he takes the mask off during sex?
Finally, Soap groans out, “Haud yer wheesht. That’s enough.”
“Sergeant’s right,” Price, whose own surprise has faded into something more stern, quiets the members of the team who are still lingering. “That’s your superior you’re gosspin’ about. Show some respect and bugger off.”
But once the Captain is gone, Soap allows himself this one quip (because, he’d been so good at not sharing what he’d seen for two years).
It’s a quiet one that he mentions only to Kyle.
“He takes her shopping an’ carries all the bags. Saw it myself.”
#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod#call of duty#fanfiction#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ghost#fluff#simon ghost riley x reader#fem!reader#dad ghost
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Injured V
Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader
Summary: The next day
The day that Alba takes you is the worst day of Alexia's life which says a lot.
For a long time, the worst day of her life was tearing her ACL, the time before that was when her father died but even those moments have been taken over by Alba taking you away from her.
Alexia slept outside your bedroom door that night, adamant that you would open it when you thought everyone was in bed. She didn't have much of a plan after that apart from grabbing you before you noticed her and not letting you go ever again.
But you don't open your door until Alba arrives early the next day.
You shrug off Alexia when she tries to reach for you, whining and crying until Alba picks you up. You're still in yesterday's clothes and no matter how much Alexia begs, you don't even acknowledge that she's speaking to you.
Alba doesn't talk to her either and both sisters are caught in a standoff that forces Olga to pack your bag.
No word is spoken by either you or Alba even as Alexia rants and raves and begs until the front door swings shut behind you.
That's when she really breaks down, crumbling to the floor as she sobs.
Your bedroom door is left open and Alexia can peer inside, clearly seeing where you've destroyed things last night.
Your trains are knocked over. Your ballet pumps are strewn around the room. Your bedsheets and pillows are bundled up in your wardrobe like you slept in there last night rather than your bed.
There was a picture of you and Alexia that lived on your bedside table. You're a newborn in it, lying on Alexia's chest. The labour had been gruelling - thirteen long hours - and Alexia's face is all red. You're red too but completely content. The picture's lived there for as long as Alexia can remember until now.
It lies on the floor, the frame completely broken and unsalvageable. The picture is ruined too, a big rip right down the middle until one half features just Alexia and the other half features you.
"Ale," Olga says softly," I'm...I'm going to call you in sick, okay?"
Alexia shakes her head, wiping away her tears. "No," She insists," I'm going in to train."
"Ale-"
"No."
The radio doesn't get turned on when Alexia drives to her recovery session. She drives in silence, stewing about it all as she pulls into the car park.
It's clear to everyone that she's in a mood which is a little strange seeing as they won the Copa De La Reina last night. No one seems to want to approach.
No one except Mapi, despite Ingrid's hushed warnings.
"So, which one did she choose?"
The words shock Alexia, who nearly drops her shirt. "What?"
Mapi frowns. "Did you not let her choose this time? That's so mean, Ale. Did she at least like the one you got her?"
"Mapi, what are you talking about?"
Mapi rolls her eyes. "The train? You always let y/n choose a new train when we win a trophy. Which one was it this time? Last time I saw her she talked about wanting this fancy red one that you could take the top off to put little people in the cars. Was it stupidly expensive? Is that why you didn't let her choose?"
Alexia clenches her fist at the reminder. She can't think of the last time she bought you a new train. She used to buy one every week. Its all you ever ask for but she can't remember the last one she gave you.
Was it the green one at Christmas or the black one at new years?
No, it can't have been then because she got you a big train set before Jaume was born, wrapped up and placed in the cupboard to give to you the day of Jaume's birth.
But...
Alexia can't remember seeing it in your room this morning.
When recovery is over, she nearly tears the cupboard door off its hinges.
The present is still there, a thick layer of dust covering the pristine packaging and Alexia sobs all over again.
She's in her car before she knows and is banging on Alba's door before she can stop herself.
"Go away!" Her sister snarls.
"Let me in!"
"No! Go away!"
"I want to see her!"
"Fuck off, Alexia! And get lost! You're not coming anywhere near that little girl!"
"She's my daughter! You've kidnapped her! Move!"
Alba looks ready to throw hands again but so is Alexia. She knows that she's got a long way to go but she's got the present from Jaume's birth in the backseat and the train you told Mapi you wanted.
"Kidnapped," Alba scoffs," That's rich. You've been neglecting her! You're lucky I didn't call the police on you!"
"Watch it," Alexia snaps," This is what you wanted, wasn't it? For me to take notice? Job done! I've noticed! Give me Bambi!"
"Over my-"
Alba breaks off as the pitter-patter of little feet sound behind her. She turns, blocking Alexia from your view as you come running towards her.
"Tia! Tia!"
"Hey, bambi. What have you got there?"
"Me and you! I painted it!"
Alba smiles, gently cupping your cheeks as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead. She keeps her body between you and Alexia, desperate to make sure you don't notice.
"It's so beautiful. Why don't you go and put away your paints and then we can put it up on the fridge?"
"Okay."
You run off again and Alba goes to shut the door.
Alexia wedges her foot between it and the frame.
"I'm not leaving," She insists," Not without Bambi."
"Go back to your precious son," Alba hisses," You're not going anywhere near her."
Alexia doesn't exactly have a plan. All she wants is to grab you and take you home. She'll give you your new trains and not let you out of her sight for the rest of your life.
"Alexia Putellas Segura!"
She turns slowly to see her mother walking up the driveway, a face like thunder.
"Mama-"
"No!"
She falls silent.
"Go."
"Alba-"
"Alexia, I will not ask again. Go home to Olga and Jaume. Your presence will do Bambi no good."
Tears water in her eyes. "Mama, I'm trying. I will be better, I promise. Please."
"Alexia." Her mother's voice softens ever so slightly but it's clear she's not going to budge. "This will not be good for Bambi. Go home, reflect and we will sort out a day where you can see her again."
"I want to see her now." Her voice cracks. "Please, Mama, she's only little."
"Go home, Alexia," Eli says," Hold your son but go home and do not come back until you are invited. This is hard on you, yes, but it is much harder on your daughter. Something like this does not happen overnight."
"Mama, I will do anything. Just, please, I need to see her."
"I have already made my decision. You will not be seeing Bambi until I have been told what has happened from her mouth. You will go home and think about your actions. If I don't think your presence will help then you will not see her."
"She's a baby, Mama," Alexia sobs with no shame," I..."
"I know," Eli says," I know, Alexia but we need to start doing what is right for her, not just what is right for you. So, go home while I talk to Bambi and we will see where this goes."
Alexia sniffles and wipes her tears. "I...I have trains for her, in my car..."
"I'll give them to her."
You're sitting in front of a train set when Eli walks in.
She didn't really want to believe it when Alba called this morning, telling her that Alexia had been neglecting you. She hadn't wanted to believe it when Alba said that she had taken you away but seeing Alexia a few minutes ago had made this all clear.
"Do you have room for more trains?"
You look up. "Abuela!"
"Hola, Bambi." She sits down next to you. "I've missed you."
The look on your face is heartbreaking. You look so excited, like you can't quite believe that someone has missed you.
"Really?"
"Of course. I always miss my favourite little girl."
Your face clouds with something that Eli can't quite work out and you say softly," Mami used to call me that."
Eli's heart cracks completely at your words and she has to resist the urge to cry herself. "I hear that you are staying with your tia for a few days."
Alba hovers uncertainly nearby, shifting on her feet even though her eyes are still glued to the windows looking out on the driveway. Eli doesn't have to look to know that Alexia hasn't driven away yet.
She knows that she won't be coming in but leaving and driving back home makes it certain. Eli isn't sure that Alexia wants to admit that just yet.
You nod, looking back down at your trains. The set-up isn't as elaborate as the one you have at home but it's still quite big. You make little chugging noises with your mouth before speaking," Tia Alba says we can go to the beach tomorrow and that I don't have to go to nursery!" Your face goes cloudy again. and you mood drops "I got forgot at nursery yesterday."
Eli hums. "And how did that make you feel?"
Your bottom lip wobbles and Eli doesn't want to push but she needs to know so she can fix this. She wants this to be salvageable. She doesn't want to give Alexia hope that this can be fixed if it can't be. She doesn't want to force you to reconcile if it'll cause more harm than good.
"Mami loves Jaume," You say, face scrunching up," And Miss Olga. They're her family."
Tears spill down your cheeks.
"Your Mami loves you too," Eli promises, feeling her chest go tight," Even if she forgets."
"No, she doesn't," You shake your head," I..." You like around wildly like you're scared. "I...I love Mami but she doesn't love me."
"She does," Eli insists," You are so loved, Bambi. Your Mami is having a bit of a stumble but she does love you."
It's clear that you don't believe her.
"Mami wanted Jaume. She didn't want me."
Eli chokes out a breath. "Who told you that?! Bambi, who said that to you?!"
Your conception was always a difficult subject to breach. Alexia had gotten drunk, slept with someone and woke up with no memory of the experience. She ended up pregnant though, with you.
It wasn't something that they ever told you. All you had ever been told was that you were loved. No one ever wanted to label you as a mistake or unwanted.
It was one of Alexia's deepest shames. She'd always told you that she chose your daddy, that she spent hours and hours choosing the perfect one. She had never wanted to tell you that you were an accident no matter how many times Eli had told her you would find out one day.
To you, you were chosen. Alexia chose to have you, to make you a part of her life. To you, you and Jaume have the same daddy because Alexia chose yours.
Eli should have known this would come out eventually, no matter what Alexia had told her.
More tears flow down your cheeks.
"Was an accident," You sniffle," Didn't mean to listen in. Was meant to be sleeping. Mami was talking to her friends-"
"What did Alexia say, bambi?" Alba's voice is harsh and Eli could never imagine this is what her family would come to.
Two sisters on warring sides and one little girl used as the rope in this tug of war.
"Said that Jaume was planned. Does that mean I wasn't? That I wasn't wanted like him?"
"I'm going to kill her," Alba declares. If she squints, she can just make out Alexia sobbing into her steering wheel. "I'm going to kill her."
"Alba," Eli says," Calm down. Go and make some snacks but do not attack your sister."
"Abuela? Does that mean Mami didn't want me?"
Eli doesn't want to have this conversation. She's never wanted to have this conversation, to have you question your position in this family. She wants to tell you that just because you weren't planned doesn't mean that you weren't wanted. She wants to tell you that you were so wanted by everyone in this room the moment they found out about you.
But, somehow, she doesn't think that will help.
What you want is assurance from Alexia but Eli doesn't trust her eldest daughter with you right now.
It's a horrible thing to admit but it's so easy to see that Alexia adores Jaume. It has always been a little harder to see Alexia's love for you.
Eli doesn't trust Alexia with you in the slightest and she hates that. She hates how splintered her family has become. She can hear Alba pacing in the kitchen and she can make out Alexia still in the driveway, sobbing.
"Your Mami..." She sighs. "I wanted you and your Tia Alba wanted you. You are so loved and so wanted by everyone in the family, Bambi. Do you trust me?"
You nod.
"I'm going to be staying with you and your Tia for a few days and I'm going to make everything better."
"Is Mami and Miss Olga and baby Jaume coming over?"
"Do you want them to?"
"No."
"Then they won't. Your Mami did give me something to give to you, though. They're presents from her."
"Why?"
Eli doesn't want to think about this. She doesn't want to think about why you're even questioning Alexia giving you presents. Every weekend at the end of Alexia's matches, she used to take you to the model train store near your house.
Eli used to be forced to go too and Alexia would let you pick out a new train simply as a present, a gift for being her favourite girl in the entire world.
You were singlehandedly keeping that store in business and the old man that ran it even kept it open late if the match ran over. It used to be your favourite time of the week.
If you're asking her why you're getting presents all of a sudden, Eli doesn't want to think about how long it's been since you must have set foot in that store.
Her voice cracks. "Because you're her favourite girl in the entire world."
She pushes them both towards you.
One of them is covered in wrapping paper so Eli can't tell what it is but she recognises the second one.
It's a red train that you'd been eyeing up since the last time Eli went to the train store with you and your Mami almost a whole year ago. It's big and comes with its own train track and little people.
It's based on those fancy trains that serve afternoon tea and cakes because each of the train cars can have their roofs taken off to place the little people figures inside to enjoy their lunches.
It's stupidly expensive, seven-hundred euros and Eli remembers you telling her that Alexia had promised it to you for your birthday. But your birthday came and went a month ago so to see it now means you didn't get it then.
You don't reach out to tear off the wrapping paper of the first present but you do tentatively touch the front of the box of the train you've been begging for.
More tears then Eli thought possible drops down your cheeks.
"I don't want it," You say eventually," I don't want them, Abuela. I don't!"
"Okay, okay," Eli hushes you softly," I'll take them away, Bambi."
You climb into her lap and sob and Eli wants nothing more than to heal all your pain and stop this but even that sounds too difficult to do. She'd hoped that this was all some big understanding but it's clear that this runs deep, that this isn't something that can be fixed quite so easily.
It's clear that Alba has made the right choice though, to take you away from Alexia and the mess of your home.
Eli had been worried when Alexia had named her as your godmother but it was clearly the right decision. She doesn't want to think about what could have happened if you had been left there any longer.
"Abuela?" You say and the next words out of your mouth are the worst things Eli has ever heard," Do you think Mami would be happier if she didn't have me?"
#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
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deal - cl16 (20/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: There's one person that you don't want to see standing in front of your door in the middle of the night.
Warnings: angst (like, a lot), super many swear words, asshole!Charles, a teeny tiny bit of fluff, Raphael
Word Count: 3.7k
series masterlist
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A/N: couldn't let you wait another week after that cliffhanger. thank you to everyone who's been with me from the start. couldn't have done it without you. here's to 20 chapters and so much more to come.
It only takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light and you recognize who is standing in front of your apartment door. The hair, the eyes, the mouth, and as soon as you recognize the face of the person who hurt you, you push against the door with all your strength to slam it shut.
But Raphael is quicker and shoves his foot in between. "I just want to talk."
You briefly consider kicking his shoe and kicking him out of the door frame. Something that would certainly hurt a lot barefoot. But you can't take a step back to slip into your shoes either, because Raphael would see that as an invitation. So you stand there rooted to the spot, your fingers clasped around the door handle and your shoulder leaning against the door so that at least some counterbalance keeps him from entering the apartment.
"Please, Y/N."
"What about my previous behavior makes it seem like I'm in any way interested in having a conversation with you?" you hiss hostilely in a hushed voice. After all, the neighbors don't need to hear what's going on in the hallway in the middle of the night.
He raises his hands placatingly. "I know you want to sort this out between us as much as I do."
"I want you to leave me the hell alone." You lean against the door a little more so there's more pressure on the sides of his foot, forcing him to pull it out sooner or later.
"This can't really be what you want. Please, Y/N." He tilts his head. "We both know how much you miss me. And how much you need me."
You have to stifle your laughter, even though there's nothing at all funny about this situation. "I'm not the person who keeps calling my ex and suddenly turns up at the door in the middle of the night."
"I just want to explain myself. And that everything is like it used to be."
"Then you shouldn't have been fucking other women." Your tone is icy. "Why can't you just leave me alone and get out of my life?"
Raphael crosses his arms in front of his chest as if he's offended that you're seriously asking him that. "Because I love you. So let me in, please."
You narrow your eyes. "Not a chance."
His gaze, which looked halfway human a moment ago, hardens. "Is he here? Is he listening to us right now?"
You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Don't play dumber than you are. I'm talking about your fucking roommate I spoke to on the phone the other day." He puts a palm against the door and you feel his weight pressing against you. "Is he here?"
By now you're bracing yourself against the door with all your weight. Your heart is hammering in your chest. Raphael is not someone who would hurt anyone else. But his cold stare and the pressure against the door make you think otherwise. Must make you think something else to protect yourself. If he manages to walk through that door - thank God Charles is in Italy.
"This is none of your business," you try to say as normally as possible.
"If some random guy is fucking my girlfriend, then it is definitely my business."
"I'm not your girlfriend, remember? You cheated on me and dumped me." You take a deep breath to get rid of the tremor in your voice. "So just leave me alone. I don't want anything more to do with you."
Raphael laughs. "I didn't cheat on you." When you raise an eyebrow, he rolls his eyes. "My God, so I slept with a few women, so what? I had needs. And you didn't want to."
You're on the verge of crushing his foot. "Are you actually listening to yourself? Do you hear the complete bullshit you're talking?"
"Don't be like that. I bet you've been sleeping with your roommate to get one over on me, too." He leans a little in your direction. "Why don't you explain to me why you slept with him but not with me, your boyfriend?" When you don't answer him, but just look at him venomously, a disgusting grin spreads across his face. "I'm telling you: because you're a little bitch." He takes his hand off the door and instantly your body relaxes a little. But the calm doesn't last long. "Did you hear that?" Raphael suddenly yells through the hallway, waking up all the neighbors within a 200-meter radius. "She's a little bitch. Come and get her. She really gets it on with everyone."
You open the door a little, but only to stand fully in the doorway. "Are you crazy? Be quiet, you'll wake up the whole of Monaco!"
His head jerks in your direction. "Why? Don't you want your roommate to know who you really are?"
If Raphael hadn't been shouting like that, you would certainly have heard the loud footsteps coming up the stairs. But all you see is a shadow and then you see familiar green eyes looking into yours. Charles is standing on the top step of the stairs, his eyes fixed on you, but before you can say anything, ask him why he's not in Italy, his gaze flits to Raphael and even from a distance you can see that Charles' body is tensing.
Raphael follows your eyes and takes a step back when he sees your roommate standing in front of him. Charles could have been anyone - a neighbor complaining about the noise, a delivery man dropping off food - but from the way the Monegasque is glaring at your ex, there's no doubt. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?" Raphael runs his fingers nervously through his hair before taking a step in Charles' direction and holding out his hand. "Wow, it's an honor to meet you! I'm a big fan!"
Charles Leclerc? Honor? Big fan?
Charles looks down at the outstretched hand as if it were a venomous snake before he pushes past the man without answering and positions himself in front of you. You see his tense back muscles dance beneath his sweater as he turns to Raphael. "You should go."
"I think you've got this whole thing wrong," your ex tries to wriggle out of the situation. "Y/N is my girlfriend and we-"
"Ex-girlfriend," the brunette interjects without batting an eyelid.
Raphael scratches the back of his neck nervously. "Eh, we're just trying to sort that out. Would you please give us a moment so we can work this out?"
Charles doesn't even need to turn around to know that's the last thing you want. "No. I'm sure there's nothing to sort out. I'm not going to ask you to leave again."
Your ex snorts and raises his hands placatingly. "I don't want to argue with you. Like I said, I'm a huge fan and I watch every race. But the matter only involves Y/N and me, which is why I'm asking you to step aside so we can work this out."
"And I said no." His tone is cool and calm, almost threatening, and his gaze is so piercing it sends a cold shiver down your spine.
Raphael rolls his eyes. "And I thought you were a cool guy. That's how you come across on TV, anyway." He takes a step towards you both and Charles pushes himself completely in front of you so that you can no longer see Raphael. "Your little girlfriend there is a slut, did you know that? A stupid little whore who-"
"Do you actually like your job? You still work in accounting at this one company, don't you? With the emphasis on 'still'," Charles asks calmly. As your ex takes a step back, Charles takes a step forward. "So if you want to keep it, I suggest you leave Y/N alone once and for all. You won't show up here, you won't call her again, you won't even think about her. And if you even think of telling anyone about this, I'll make sure you can't find a job anywhere. Do you understand me?" When your ex doesn't answer, Charles takes another step, causing Raphael to flinch and almost fall down the stairs. "Did you hear me?"
"Clearly and distinctly."
"Good." You can hear Charles' friendly smile. "Have a good evening, then." He looks after Raphael, who quickly scurries down the stairs, and only turns to you as the front door slams shut.
But instead of asking you if everything is all right, he storms past you into the apartment without a word. You quickly close the door behind you, follow him on foot and find him in the bedroom, where he pulls a large sports bag out of the chest of drawers, which he carelessly throws onto the rumpled bed. He starts to clear out the closet.
"Charles?" you ask hesitantly, but remain standing in the doorway. "What are you doing?" When he doesn't answer, but pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and taps on it briefly before pocketing it again, you enter the room. "Charles? Say something, please."
"What do you want to hear from me?" he asks coldly, grabbing some clothes from the closet. Only when you take a closer look do you realize that these are your clothes that didn't fit in your small suitcase.
"I don't know," you answer helplessly. "What are you doing here?"
He doesn't even look at you. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing your things." He stuffs one of your shirts into the small side pocket. "So we can finally move out of here."
Confused, you look at him and sit on the edge of the bed. Far enough away from him. "What do you mean?"
"Do you really think you're going to stay here one more day after your crazy ex turned up? You were going to move out anyway, so we might as well get this over with."
You had told him that you were leaving this apartment, but you never expected him to throw you out of the apartment himself. Especially not today, when he wasn't supposed to be in Monaco, but in Italy. "Are you kicking me out?"
Charles zippers up the bag before placing it next to the suitcase and pulling the next bag out of the dresser and fills it with clothes. "Didn't you listen to me? We're moving out. I'm not leaving you alone in this apartment for another moment."
Charles's change of mood almost gives you whiplash. Yesterday he threw the nastiest words at you, made you cry and hurt you so much that you were seriously considering leaving the country. And now he's standing there packing your things into sports bags because he what? Doesn't want your ex to come back here to harass you again?
Puzzled, you sit on the bed while Charles goes through the apartment and collects all the personal belongings he can find.
Why is he here when he's supposed to be in Italy? Why is he packing your things so that you can move out of this apartment if he doesn't care about you? And the biggest question is - how does Raphael know Charles? What races was he talking about? Why does he know him from TV?
Who is Charles Leclerc?
"Here, get changed," he snaps you out of your thoughts and throws you a pair of sweatpants and the white sweater he was wearing in the bookstore. "It's freezing outside and I don't want you to freeze to death." He grabs the bags and disappears out of the bedroom to give you some privacy.
You quickly change, pull his sweater over your head and as you breathe in his scent, you could cry. The fact that Charles is here, defending you after he treated you so badly, confuses you so much that you don't know which way is up and which way is down. After yesterday, you hate him, you want to hate him, but Lando's words haunt your mind and apparently there's some truth to them, because otherwise Charles wouldn't have driven all the way to Monaco in the middle of the night.
But why is he here? Why did he leave his meetings so much earlier? Did he feel guilty? Did Lando talk to him? Why is he back here with you after just one day?
He doesn't even look at you when you leave the bedroom in his clothes. He just grabs the bags and your suitcase and you're about to ask him if you should carry something too, but he's already disappeared out of the front door and into the dark hallway. You quickly grab the last of your belongings and follow him down the stairs, but instead of heading for the underground parking garage, he leaves the house and heads towards the street.
"Where are you going?" you ask, out of breath, when you finally catch up with him. Without a word, he stops in front of a black car with a red and white stripe across it. It looks expensive, much more expensive than your old Renault, which is only confirmed by the horse on the hood and rims. "Whose car is this?"
"Get in," he says curtly as he unlocks the luxury ride and starts to put the bags away. When you don't move, he turns to you. "I won't say it again. Get in the damn car, Y/N."
"Why?" you ask, confused and also a little desperate. "Why would I get in the car with you? Give me one good reason."
Annoyed, he runs his hand through his hair so that it stands on end. "Either you get in the car now or I'll make you. It's your decision."
You cross your arms in front of your chest. By now you're annoyed by his behavior. "You can't force me."
"You bet I can." He takes a step closer so that you can feel his warm breath on your face. "Get in the fucking car."
There's a twinkle in his green eyes that stops you from challenging him. Silently, you get in on the passenger side of the car and plop down on the leather seat as Charles circles the hood. A few minutes later, as you're driving along Monaco's streets, the silence between you is unbearable.
"Where are we going?" you ask, but get no answer. The Monegasque drives the car over the asphalt with an angry look on his face, even driving too fast, but he doesn't seem to care. "At least you can tell me where you're taking me. You owe me that after you dragged me out of the apartment."
"We're going to my other place."
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "The one Annika lives in?"
Charles takes a turn without using his blinker. "Yes."
"And how do you picture that?" You turn in his direction. "You want me to share the apartment with your ex? Are you completely insane?"
He exhales loudly. "She won't be there when we get there."
"We? What do you mean 'we'?"
"I have to stay somewhere. Now that we both can't stay in the second apartment anymore."
Your voice sounds a little shrill as you answer him. "I wasn't planning on moving out of one apartment so I could move into another with you. Drive me to a hotel or somewhere else, but I don't want to live with you."
After all, he was the reason you wanted to move out of the apartment in the first place. He treated you badly, let you down - why should you spend another night with him? Especially since he still seems angry with you?
As the car comes to a halt, he looks over at you. "I don't care what you want right now. You're staying here tonight where I know you're okay and that asshole can't get too close to you. Tomorrow you can throw every insult you can think of at me, but right now you do what I tell you. Do you understand me?"
His authoritative and commanding tone leaves no room for discussion, so you just nod silently and get out of the car. You are in an underground parking garage, similar to the other one, but there are other cars here. Expensive cars, like the Ferrari you drove here in.
Are these all his cars? Where did Charles get the money for a Ferrari? What-
"Come on. I won't wait forever." His voice brings you back to reality and like a toddler you follow him out of the garage, into the elevator and finally into the apartment, which is surprisingly empty. You don't have a moment's peace to look around as Charles has already unlocked a room and put your things inside.
"The guest room is unused." He takes a deep breath and exhales. "I know it's not the best solution for everything here, but I can't change it now. If you want to move out tomorrow, then do so. But please do me a favor and stay here tonight." His expression is softer and his voice is a little warmer than it was a few minutes ago, but that doesn't make you forget how the evening went.
"I'll be gone in the morning," you reply stubbornly, but you can feel your heart beating fast. Charles just nods and leaves you in the hallway so that you can enter your room undisturbed and keep to yourself.
After closing the door behind you, you take off your warm clothes and fall onto the bed in your underwear without turning on the light. It is unused, the comforter is spread out on the mattress and the pillows feel as plush as if they had just been fluffed up. But as soon as your head touches the soft fabric and you breathe in, you are completely enveloped in Charles' scent. And you can't stop the tears streaming down your face as your body finally comes to rest.
The fact that Raphael suddenly turned up on your doorstep in the middle of the night has already thrown you off course. You never expected him to have the nerve to show up at your place - a pretty stupid thought when you remember that he had already tried to find you there recently. But actually seeing him, listening to his garbage, really ruined the evening that Lando had actually saved so far.
And then came Charles, your knight in shining armour, who stood up for you so heroically and defended you, even though he had broken your heart just one day before.
His behavior is completely at odds with what he's doing.
He drags you out of the apartment so that Raphael can no longer find you there, but forces you to go with him to this apartment, even though he knows that you don't want to have anything more to do with him.
He packs your things, wants you to spend the night with him so he can be sure you're safe, but is so cold and dismissive to you that you might think Charles has multiple personalities.
And then there's the fact that Raphael seems to know him. Even his full name. And he didn't pronounce it the way you do with people you just haven't seen for a long time but happen to meet on the street. His intonation was different, as if the name Charles Leclerc carried weight, as if he was something special, as if you had to know him. But who the hell is Charles Leclerc?
Is he the man who took you in when you didn't know where to go? The one in whom you found a friend you never really wanted to miss? The one you fell in love with without even wanting to?
Or is he the man who hurt you, rejected you, only to stand up for you in a domineering and possessive way? The one who took your heart and trampled on it, only to do everything he could to keep you safe a day later?
Who is Charles Leclerc?
Your shoulders shake and your breath comes in painful gasps as you wrap your arms around your middle and press your face into the pillow. Your throat feels constricted, your blood is pounding in your ears and your heart is beating so fast it feels like it wants to jump out of your chest. And this headache. They make you blind and deaf, which is why you don't notice the door to your room quietly opening and then falling back into the lock.
Only when you feel the mattress lower behind you do you realize that Charles is with you. You want to turn to him, scream at him and send him packing, but you don't get the chance. Your tears stifle every sound and your body is shaking so badly that you can do nothing but lie there.
You don't question it when you feel Charles' chest against your back. "I'm here," he whispers softly as he wraps his arm around you and hugs you tightly. His other hand finds its way into your hair, which he strokes gently as his touch warms you. "It's all right, mon amour. I'm here," he repeats, tangling his bare legs with yours to pull you even closer to him. Not a piece of paper, not even a hair fits between you.
Charles' skin is soft and smooth against yours, you feel the tiny hairs of his forearm against yours as he reaches out to grab your hand and finally intertwines your fingers. It feels like they were made for this. As if you were made for him.
You want to turn around, to look at him, but his iron grip around your middle won't allow it, so you just press yourself against him, as close as you can, to be enveloped by him. By his smell, his warmth. Him.
"Charles," you sigh into the darkness and feel the tip of his nose against your neck.
"I'm here, mon amour." He presses a feather-light kiss to your bare shoulder. "I'm here as long as you'll let me."
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#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc prompt#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc imagine#carlos sainz jr#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc cute#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#lando norris#charles leclerc one shot#Charles Leclerc angst#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc fluff#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1#f1 imagine
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Steve is bitchy. It's a known fact. He's a reformed mean girl and bitch is like a second language to him. Whether it's scathing commentary about Family Video customers almost before they're out the door,
"So apparently it's national hit on someone young enough to be your granddaughter day, who knew we had such a gross holiday?"
snarky conversations with the kids,
"Well, whaddya know, Dustin, would you look at this?"
"What?
"It's the coke you said wasn't in the fridge! Isn't it amazing how it just magically appeared?"
"Oh, shut up, Steve."
"I'm just so completely in awe!"
or calling out the people that still give Eddie nasty looks (and doesn't that make Eddie's heart grow three sizes and threaten to pop out of his chest and burrow into Steve's?),
"You know, Carol, if you keep making that face, it might stick like that. But look on the bright side, at least then the outside would be as hideous as the inside!"
Eddie adores all of it. Loves Steve's mile-wide mean streak. Loves how he can use it to tease the people he loves or decimate the latest idiot he's been forced to deal with.
But Eddie's favorite, the best, the most wonderful, absolutely fantastic moments of Steve's bitchiness? Those happen while he's driving. It doesn't matter what exactly has him riled up about another driver, Steve always has something sarcastic on the tip of his tongue to bitch about them with.
"Do you look as stupid as you drive? Dumbass."
"Jeeze, I never knew the white line was for driving on. What an amazing thing you've discovered!"
"Oh, apparently I missed the memo where 35 mph got changed to 55. Eddie, remind me to check the speed limit sign the next time we drive through here. God, what an impatient asshole."
No matter what it is, it always has Eddie stifling his laughter behind his hand. But this last time - they're at a four-way stop and the car turning across from them definitely went before it was their turn and Steve says, "Hmm, seems someone missed the lesson on taking turns in kindergarten," with that little bitchy tilt to his head - Eddie can't help the guffaw that bursts out of his mouth.
Steve looks at him from the corner of his eye. "What are you giggling about?"
"You. You just - you get so bitchy at the other drivers and, I swear to god, man, it's the funniest shit." He laughs again, says fervently, "Christ, I love you, Stevie."
And then he freezes. Realizes what he said. Takes a deep, horrified breath. It's too soon, they only just started dating, he can't say something like that, he's... He backtracks. "Uh... I mean, uh, I love when you - "
And then freezes again when Steve slides his hand off the steering wheel and onto his thigh, fingers curling around the inside. "So, you love me, huh?"
Eddie chances a glance over at Steve. Despite the teasing tone in his voice, there's something soft around his eyes and the edges of his smile. Something almost... hopeful.
Eddie swallows and decides fuck it. "Yeah, yeah I do," he tells Steve quietly.
Steve makes a quiet sound that goes straight to Eddie's heart. When he peeks over again, Steve is looking back and forth between Eddie and the road and his expression is so open and tender and happy that Eddie doesn't regret for a second what he said, even if it is too soon. "I love you, too, Eds," Steve says and Eddie feels his stomach swoop with butterflies. He puts his hand on Steve's, squeezes it, tangles their fingers together, grins bright at this man he loves so very much.
And if, after that, Steve goes out of his way to play up his bitchiness whenever Eddie is in the car and Eddie never stifles his laughter at it again, well, that's between the two of them, isn't it?
#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#are steve's bitchy comments while driving entirely based on my own? yes#steve and i are both bitchy drivers#reformed mean girl steve#yes i am incapable of writing anything that doesn't devolve into fluff 😅#also i have been trying to write this since january 27th so i'm not even gonna try to edit it you get what you get#zan fic
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can i request another boyfriends dad fic where reader can't be quiet because it feels to good so joel puts his hand over her mouth and tells her to be a good girl for daddy 🥵
snack break (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+
anon you are so lucky i'm on my period rn. this is the same joel from quickie but both can be read as stand-alone.
summary: joel needs you to be quiet. (reader is of legal age)
rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact)
warnings: daddy!kink, age difference, unprotected p in v sex, doggy, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, this is filthy
word count: about 800
"i'll be back in a second," you'd said, "getting some popcorn."
your boyfriend had given you a small grunt as a response, eyes glued to his gaming setup as he mashed the keys and furiously fingered the mouse better than he'd fingered you in your entire relationship. with an eyeroll you'd left his bedroom and walked across the hall to the kitchen.
the moment you'd shut the popcorn in the microwave and pressed the button, joel had come up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle, kissed the back of your neck and told you to bend over the counter.
"be a good girl," he'd murmured, "don't make a sound."
it's hard not to make a sound when he's now fucking into you slow and deep, hips pressing firmly against your ass every time he buries his thick cock inside of you. your hands squeal against the kitchen counter for purchase, body loose and shaky as he takes what belongs to him.
"be quiet, babygirl," he murmurs, squeezing your breasts over the fabric of your oversized hoodie - your boyfriend's hoodie.
"i can't," you whimper, biting down hard on your lip when the head of his cock hits that firm and spongey place inside of you, making your legs shake, "it's too much, daddy, i can't."
"it's not too much," he replies softly, "you can take it, baby, i know you can."
you shake your head, feeling a guttural moan building in your throat when he pulls out again and pushes back in, brings one of his big hands down to press flat against your stomach, applying just the right amount of pressure.
"daddy," you groan, frantic and pitiful; it's louder than you'd expected and you both freeze, heads snapping toward the closed door of your boyfriend's bedroom.
after a few seconds you hear your boyfriend curse at someone in-game, still playing, completely unaware of what his father is doing to you across the hall. you both relax a bit, sighing in relief. joel places a tender kiss behind your ear and starts to fuck you again, slow and deep.
you can't help but start whimpering again and clearly joel has had enough of telling you to be quiet. instead he brings his hand up and places it firmly to your mouth, large and strong against your face. you whimper into it and are pleased to discover that the sound is barely audible.
"there you go," he murmurs in your ear, fucking you a bit harder now that he knows you can't make the same noises, "it's okay, babygirl, he can't hear you now."
you moan a bit louder as he picks up speed but your voice continues to stay muffled by the firm placement of his hand. he brings his other hand downward from your belly to rub your clit, eliciting a few more noiseless whimpers that vibrate against his skin. you're so overstimulated and full, a bit worried that when you come his hand won't be enough to mask the sound. but he doesn't seem to care.
"shhh, that's it," he coos in your ear, "such a good girl for daddy"
his words and the sensations are too much to bear; you clamp down tightly on his cock and make pathetic squealing noises into his hand, body trembling as he coaxes your orgasm out of you with soft whispers of praise and gentle kisses to your temple. he keeps rubbing your clit, fucking you hard and making your eyes roll back.
it's only a few seconds later that he finishes with a low groan in your ear, cock twitching within your walls as he paints your insides with his come. you tremble even more, unable to make sounds even if his hand wasn't in the way.
"that's it, that's my good girl," he murmurs in your ear, still emptying himself inside of you, filling you deep with his seed as his hand presses harder against your wet mouth, "just take it, take all of it."
the microwave dings and he pulls out, taking his hand off your mouth and bringing it down to thumb his spend back inside your swollen pussy.
"so messy," he murmurs, pushing as much as he can back inside before pulling your panties back up. you're still shaking, hunched over the kitchen counter as he hikes up your shorts and presses one final kiss to the back of your neck.
the microwave dings again, and you hear your boyfriend's voice call out from the other room, "take it out before it burns!"
you finally pull yourself off the counter, legs shaking like a baby deer as you reach over and pop the door open. the smell of popcorn wafts into the room.
"enjoy your snack." joel says with a smirk, then leaves the room as quickly as he'd entered.
#this joel has me in a fucking chokehold i s2g#just absolute filth#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#*#fic: bd!joel
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Pt2 of the badly kept secrets of Eddie's heart monitor
After the first two weeks, Steve seems to have suddenly decided to stop visiting Eddie. No explanation, no goodbye: one day he's there, and then he... Isn't. It takes a few days, sometimes, Steve has a life of his own after all, but a whole week goes by with nothing. And another one. Eddie only knows he's alive – and in town – because the others told him when he asked. Maybe Steve's gotten tired of being surrounded by all that hospital sterility. Or maybe he's gotten tired of being around Eddie. Or maybe... Eddie groans and takes up a stare-down with the fucking heart monitor that's still attached to him at all times, his biggest enemy.
Unfortunately, he has way too much time on his hands, alone in this room and unable to do anything but lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. It makes it far too easy to let his thoughts spiral. Maybe – no, probably, certainly, undoubtedly – that goddamn heart monitor was the ideal help for Steve to decipher Eddie's biggest secret without any difficulties.
Yes, that must be the reason why Steve is staying away. Sure, the guy could tolerate being around “the freak” for a few hours a week out of pity, but of course he wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore upon finding out exactly what kind of freaky thoughts he really has about Steve. Steve was polite enough to pretend like he didn't notice the heart monitor speeding up every single time he got in Eddie's proximity, but of course, of course he noticed. He noticed and now he hates Eddie.
And honestly? He has every right to hate Eddie, with the way Eddie has been exploiting every opportunity to get Steve to touch him. Even though he'd regret it right away whenever the heart monitor couldn't shut the fuck up, Eddie never learned from his mistakes. He was even stupid enough to find meaning in the way Steve's touch would linger after helping him lie down or sit up, stupid enough to find tenderness in the way Steve held his arms when helping him out of his bed and to the bathroom. Obviously, Steve never wanted any of that. Obviously, that only made Steve uncomfortable, but the poor guy was too polite to lash out to the dude chained to a hospital bed healing from having all his organs chewed inside out.
Eddie sighs and closes his eyes; not because he wants to sleep, but because the staring contest with the heart monitor isn't really getting him anywhere. Maybe it's for the best that Steve is staying away. That way, Eddie might be able to get over him more easily. He doesn't deserve Steve's friendship anyway.
***
“I wanna visit Eddie today.”
“Alright, have fun,” Steve answers. “Tell him I said hi.”
Robin sighs dramatically. “No, dingus, you're coming with me. I need a ride.”
“No!” It comes out of his mouth a little too quick, a little too loud, and Robin raises her eyebrows at him.
“No, I can't,” he explains in a calmer voice.
Robin raises her eyebrows even further, making them disappear beneath her bangs altogether. “You literally just told me you don't have plans after work.”
“Yeah, but...” He lets his voice fade out and settles on muttering something incomprehensible.
“I did not understand one single word of what you were saying,” Robin points out. She sounds annoyed, but there's a vaguely amused smile playing around her lips, betraying how she really feels about the whole thing. “Seriously, what's up with you and Eddie? Did you have a fight or something?”
“No...”
“Until two weeks ago, you were at the hospital basically every spare minute of your time. You even canceled two dates just so you could spend more time with Eddie! And now, all of a sudden, you'd rather spend your evening on your own at home watching TV than visit your friend?”
“He's not my friend,” Steve protests.
She gives him a punch against his shoulder.
“Okay, I'm pretty sure he hates me, Rob.” Steve finally caves in. “He gets, like, very uncomfortable whenever I'm around. And I don't wanna add to his discomfort any more than necessary, so it's better I stay away from him.”
“Well, I don't know what on earth gave you that idea, but that is by far the biggest load of bullcrap I heard all week,” Robin says matter-of-factly. “He's asked about you every single time I visited him. He'll be happy to see you, dingus, you're coming with me today. No excuses.”
***
Like clockwork, the steady beeping of the heart monitor falters as soon as Eddie locks eyes with Steve. To make things even worse, what little color that is on Eddie's cheeks leaves his face immediately.
Despite the paleness of Eddie's face, Steve can't help but notice how good he looks in comparison to when he last saw him two weeks ago. He's sitting straight up, leaning against a pillow, and the look in his eyes is far from drowsy.
“S-Steve,” Eddie stutters out. “Hi.” He clears his throat. “And – and Robin, of course, hi! Good to see ya, Buck.” He stretches out his arms to embrace her, and Steve awkwardly comes up behind her. It feels weird not to follow Robin's example and give him a hug, but when he bows over the bed and wraps his arms around Eddie, the beeping immediately picks up speed again. To make things even worse, Eddie quite literally recoils from his touch, leaning away as far as possible and letting his arms hover in the air around Steve more than actually hugging him back.
When Steve looks at Robin, he notices that her eyes have grown about twice their normal size while they flash back and forth between Eddie, the machines around his bed, and Steve.
He locks eyes with her and tries to silently convey a See, I told you so about Eddie resenting him. She answers with a barely visible nod and relief fills Steve's chest. He's lucky to have Robin right by his side, his best friend, the one person he can always count on understanding him. She'll get them out of here in no time and leave Eddie in peace and –
“Oh shoot, sorry, I forgot I need to get a, um, a thing from the car,” Robin says. “I'll be right back.”
As she stumbles out of the room, Steve wants to scream at her that that was very much the opposite of what he wanted her to do, but she disappears before he can do anything about it, only leaving an awkward silence in her wake. So Steve has no choice but to turn back to Eddie and take his familiar place in the chair beside his bed.
“I kinda didn't expect to see you anymore.” Eddie is the one to break the silence. He sounds more distant than the last time Steve saw him. It must be worse than Steve thought: Eddie had been happy to be rid of him and now here he is again, after a meager two weeks of peace.
“Sorry,” Steve mumbles. “She insisted I come with her.”
“So you didn't wanna come?”
Steve chuckles darkly at the irony in that question, not really knowing how to answer that.
“Alright, I'm just gonna say it,” says Eddie when it becomes clear that Steve doesn't quite know what to say. “You figured out what I – how I felt about you, didn't you? Cause of the heart thing.”
Steve looks away, stares intently at the ugly dark blue linoleum carpet under his feet.
“Yeah,” he quietly confesses. There's no use denying it now, he figures.
Eddie heaves out a long sigh.
“For what it's worth: I'm really sorry, Steve, I didn't mean to make you-”
“It's fine,” Steve quickly interrupts him. He doesn't think he could bear Eddie's pity right now. “Don't worry about it. I just wanted to give you some space, y'know, get outta your hair for a bit. I didn't want to make this any more painful for you than it has to be.”
“Really?”
The heart monitor stutters again and Eddie's voice sounds weirdly strained. Steve can't help but look up. He's met with big brown eyes that are looking at him like Eddie actually cares about him. For a moment, Steve imagines to see tears, but then Eddie blinks and the illusion is gone.
“I um... I appreciate that, man,” Eddie says.
Another awkward silence dawns over the room.
“Wait,” Eddie says after a few seconds. “So you're not angry?”
“No!” Steve immediately replies – and it's true. He understands why Eddie doesn't like being around him, that too much has happened in the past for them to just move on and hold hands or some shit.
“It's not your fault,” he tells Eddie. He looks away again, back to the floor in front of his sneakers. “If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, right?”
Eddie huffs out a sound of disbelief. “Why, cause you're just too damn sexy, Harrington?”
Steve frowns. “Well, no, cause I was an asshole and I was mean to your friends during all of high school and it's stupid of me to expect you to just get over that shit and-”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
There's that stutter in the heart monitor again. It makes Steve wonder if he's putting Eddie's health at risk by simply existing next to him. Maybe it would be better to leave Eddie alone and wait in the car until Robin is done with her visit. What the hell is taking her so long anyway?
He keeps his eyes stubbornly focused on the blue floor. “Isn't that why you got so uncomfortable having me around?” he points out. “Look, I get it, man. I was an asshole, it's true. And it was selfish of me to keep showing up here only because you were too polite to say to my face what you thought about me. I was only thinking about myself and about how much I liked being here with you, it wasn't fair.”
All of a sudden, the soft touch of a hand lands on his shoulder. He hates how that makes his own heart speed up. If he were the one attached to a heart monitor, Eddie would've seen right through him in an instant, that's for sure.
He looks up and meets Eddie's wide-eyed, somewhat shocked face.
“You - you thought you were making me uncomfortable?” Eddie asks him, sounding like he's completely gobsmacked.
Steve frowns. “Isn't that what we've been talking about for the past five minutes?”
“Steve,” Eddie says. “I am so sorry. I didn't – I never – Look. Listen.” He removes his hand from Steve's shoulder and roughly wipes it over his face. His heart monitor accelerates even further. “Please don't hate me for what I'm about to tell you, okay?” He doesn't wait for a reaction, only uses his pause to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and looking right into Steve's.
“I'm gay, Steve. And that evil computer over there-” He points towards the heart monitor, “-keeps betraying my big, fat, gay crush on you. Every time you walk in here, or read my book to me, or do so much as smile at me, I just – God, I'm such a goner for you and there was no hiding it because of that stupid fucking thing.”
This time, Steve is quite sure he is not at all imagining the tears in Eddie's eyes.
“I thought that's why you stopped visiting. Cause you figured out how gay I am – about you – and you didn't want anything to do with that. With me. Being gay. For you.”
Eddie swallows. He lifts a hand and pulls a strand of hair over his face in a poor attempt to hide the truly terrified expression that's all over his features.
“Jesus, Eddie,” Steve breathes out. He can't even begin to comprehend how spectacularly wrong he has been about everything. It's almost like he's in shock. Only a minute ago, he thought Eddie despised him. And now, he has to process the revelation that the guy in fact has had a crush on him – a “big, fat, gay crush” – all along. That the reason his heart was behaving so weirdly was because Steve's proximity made him lovesick. That he recoiled from Steve's touches out of fear that the monitor would give him away and make Steve realize he was gay and in love with him.
“Please say something?” It sounds like a question, small and so afraid of what is about to come.
“Eddie, I – Jesus. This is... A lot. To process,” Steve manages to choke out.
“I know,” Eddie says. “I'm sorry I made you think I hated you. But... Please don't hate me. I really missed you visiting. We can be friends, right? You won't even have to touch me ever again, we can just hang out like bros, and I'll try to get my feelings for you under control, and you can-”
Steve finally gains control over his body again: he leaps forward and presses his lips against Eddie's with slightly more force than he had meant to do.
A surprised yelp escapes from Eddie's mouth, and the beeping of the heart monitor goes even crazier. It makes Steve's own heart do a goddamn cartwheel, that audible proof of what he is making Eddie feel.
He completely understands why the heart monitor is going batshit crazy right now; everything about this is fucking amazing. One of his hands finds its way to Eddie's surprisingly soft hair, and he revels in the feeling of touching Eddie again and in the taste of Eddie's lips against his own, and maybe he should just climb into Eddie's bed to–
“Thank God for that.”
They quickly jump apart to find Robin standing in the doorway, an annoyingly smug grin on her face.
“You two could really not be more stupid if you tried, huh?”
Steve squints at her while his hand blindly finds Eddie's on top of the sheets and curls itself around it. He feels his cheeks heat up, but he doesn't care. Nothing matters anymore, except for Eddie's hand warmly resting in his own.
“Did you even need anything from the car at all?” he asks Robin, raising an eyebrow at her.
“No, of course not,” Robin scoffs. “Just needed you idiots to finally get your shit together. I don't think I've ever met anyone more dense than the two of you, seriously! There were at least three moments when I almost barged in here to just smash your faces tog-”
“You were eavesdropping on us?!”
“Obviously.”
Steve opens his mouth, indignant and ready to tell her exactly how mean and evil she is, but she merely raises a hand and the look in her eyes is terrifying enough to shut him up before he has even started speaking.
“Hey, listen,” she says. Something in her face softens. “I'm really happy for you guys. Seriously, no matter how stupid you are, you two deserve every bit of happiness in the world.” She takes a step backwards towards the door. “I'll go wait in the car, dingus. Go kiss each other some more.”
And before Steve or Eddie can say anything, she winks and closes the door behind her.
Taglist: @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @saramelaniemoon @lololol-1234 @carlajim98 @7-starboi @acedorerryn @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @zoeweee @resident-gay-bitch @my2amgaythoughts @didntwant2come @steveshairspray @noodle-shenaniganery @thedragonsaunt @finntheehumaneater @queerriotgrrrl @co5m0 @dino-nuggets-posts
#in which robin is all of us#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#they're idiots your honor#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#stranger things#fruity ficlet
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flirty || alessia russo x reader ||
you flirt a little with alessia, despite the team's teasing.
you walked into the locker room like you did every other day. for the most part, nobody paid much attention to you aside from a wave here or there. you sat down in your cubby, immediately catching the eye of alessia, who was sat directly across from you. she glanced up at you and waved, which you responded to with a wink and wave of your own. like always, alessia looked away from you extremely flustered.
"careful, you flirt any more and they'll think you're me," katie teased as she nudged you. you rolled your eyes. there were tons of people already drawing comparisions to the two of you. katie mccabe was definitely your best friend on the team, but you didn't think the two of you played all that similarly.
you weren't overly aggressive, you were just stubborn. katie was the one with a shoving problem, one that you often had to pull her back from showing. almost everybody on the team liked to tease katie that she was more whipped for you than she was for her own girlfriend. the jokes didn't really bother you, but they definitely would have if you knew how much they messed with alessia.
that was where the true soft spot for you was. katie was bound to get her ass kicked one day, but you were prolonging it. in all honesty, you were pretty sure you'd actually be the one to do it. you didn't look out for katie the way that you tried to for alessia. that was something that kim and jen had quickly shut down anybody messing with the two of you about. both of them could see the care in your eyes every single time that you looked at her.
"that's funny, i don't remember shrinking six inches and losing all my muscle mass," you joked. katie wound up to hit you, only to be interrupted by kim clearing her throat. "morning kim!"
"good morning (y/n), you seem to be in a good mood," kim noted. you nodded as you started changing into your training kit. you turned your back to katie, and incidentally alessia, whose jaw dropped when she saw the new tattoo you'd gotten.
"what the fuck is that?" katie asked as she rushed over to touch your back. you were glad that you had gotten it a little over a week ago whenever you were on injury leave. katie's fingers poked and prodded at the tattoo, as if she couldn't believe that you had done it. "who the hell is that for?"
"katie, shut up, it looks cool," alessia said as she walked over to the two of you. you shot her a grateful look over your shoulder before you pulled your training kit on.
"thanks less, i'm glad someone has good taste around here," you teased. alessia blushed as your attention was focused solely on her for a second. "walk to the gym with me? you're much better company than mccabe."
"hey!" katie exclaimed.
"i'd like that," alessia said. she let you finish getting ready, surprised when you linked arms with her. you walked ahead of leah, beth, katie, and caitlin. you could feel all of their eyes on you, but you chose to ignore them.
…
"what's the deal with you and lessi?" leah asked as the two of you walked through the parking lot together. you quirked an eyebrow at her, unsure of what she meant. as far as you knew, there was nothing going on between you and alessia. if there was, you really wished that someone would have told you sooner. "you're very flirty, someone might get the idea that you like her."
"a little flirting never hurt anybody," you said. truthfully, it was starting to hurt both you and alessia. you wanted her to take the things that you said seriously, but she always seemed to dismiss it as friendly and jovial remarks.
"you like her though, don't you?" leah asked. you glanced down at your feet as you nodded your head. "talk to her then. i'm sure that she likes you too."
"leah, if she doesn't-," you started, only to be cut off by leah's hand covering your mouth.
"don't think like that, okay? i've seen the way she looks at you, and it's sickening. absolutely disgusting, i can't sit there any longer while the two of you dance around whatever this is. don't ask her out for you, do it for your team, who are all sick and tired of your flirting without getting anywhere," leah said. you knew that she was teasing you, but that she also believed alessia wouldn't reject you.
alessia and leah had a tendency to talk to each other, most likely more about these sorts of things than you did. leah knew why you were so closed off, having remembered your first big heart break. if she was pushing you towards alessia, then it absolutely had to mean something. that was what you told yourself when you made your way towards her apartment after practice was through.
"(y/n)!" ella shouted excitedly, ruining your surprise. alessia quickly turned to face you, a small smile appearing on her face. she seemed somewhat frazzled, most likely by what you assumed was ella's surprise visit. "just the woman we were talking about. come on over, give me a big one, it's been a while."
"you're ridiculous," you laughed. still, you walked over and engulfed ella in the biggest hug you could muster. behind her, you noticed a somewhat sad look on alessia's face. "don't worry, you can have a hug too."
"it's not-," alessia tried to protest, but it was no use. you stood in front of her with your arms open, and alessia walked right into them. she was a bit taller than you, just barely noticeable, but you took full advantage of it. your hug with her lasted longer than yours with ella's, the two of you not wanting to separate. "what are you doing here?"
"i wanted to see you, that's all," you told her. it was sort of a lie, but also so unbelievably true. alessia blushed as she tried to duck away from you. "if you're busy though, i can go back home."
"no, i want you to stay for a while. maybe you could help me with dinner and stay for a movie?" alessia suggested. you nodded, following her inside. ella ended up only staying for a late lunch, leaving you and alessia alone for the majority of the night together. alessia ordered in your favorite while you put on a movie you knew she'd love. "this is nice."
"yeah it is," you agreed. you were cuddled up beneath her arm, feeling warm and safe. you glanced up at her at the same time that she looked down, both of you pausing to look at each other's lips. "careful, if you look at me like that again, i might just have to kiss you."
"i want you to. god, i want it so bad," alessia confessed. you were immediately put into a state of shock as you stared up at alessia. she looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole, and as she started to move away, you sprung into action.
"i want to kiss you too. i've wanted to since the euros," you told her. alessia looked surprised. the euros was really the first camp where the two of you had played together. before then, you'd only been competitors, which hadn't left much room for making friends.
"will you kiss me?" alessia asked nervously. you nodded, moving up to press a feather-light kiss to her lips. it was supposed to be a peck on the lips, but alessia grabbed onto your face to deepen it. she pulled you further onto her lap, holding you against her with no intention of letting you go. "stay the night."
"that's moving a bit fast less. i'll finish the movie, but i really do have to go after that," you told her. alessia looked a bit upset by the rejection, but she understood nonetheless. and so, she kept you close to her until the movie was over and you got up to leave.
"can i have a goodbye kiss?" alessia asked you. you leaned down and pressed your lips to hers for a quick kiss. "oh, and a goodnight one? oh, and an advance on my good morning one since you aren't staying over?"
"you can't trick me into staying by making me kiss you," you told her. alessia pouted up at you until you gave in to her demands of more kisses. she may not have convinced you to stay, but she had gotten a good ten minutes of kisses before you actually left her for the night.
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