#first the 'i tried girls in the 90s' NOW THIS??? GIRL!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leahswife · 1 month

Text

snuggles, cuddles and struggles

summary: aitana is a touchy person. she particularly likes to touch you. you have a crush and don't know how to deal with it. neither do your teammates.

the first time it happened, it took you by surprise. it wasn't that much of a big deal really, you and your team were on the bus back to the hotel after a match and you were all pretty exhausted. but when aitana lays her head on your shoulder and starts to doze off, there's a little nervous flutter that settles in your chest.

you knew aitana was not afraid to show affection, often clinging herself to keira or Ingrid but that wasn't the same situation for you. you could be affectionate with those you were close to, but often withheld being too touchy in fear of making others uncomfortable.

this particular situation, however, was even more stressful to you as it had to do with aitana. the crush you had on the brunette was now holding you hostage, making you conscious of your every move or breath to not risk waking her up. what if aitana got uncomfortable, what if your shoulder was too bony, what if you forgot to put on deodorant after the quick shower?

you looked over and aitana was breathing peacefully, eyes closed and asleep. you took a deep breath and pushed your unpleasant thoughts away, however you did not move an inch the whole ride back.

–

slowly but surely, you got used to having aitana attach herself to you. not too long after the bus nap on your shoulder, the girl was right at your side whenever it got too cold, holding on to your arm and pressing her cheek onto your shoulder to try and keep herself warm. she would grab your hand any time you were walking ahead of her to catch up with you. but the worst part was the nights out.

one night the whole team decided to go out for a very much needed break and within no time, drinks were being passed around the table you were all on.

after a little while, some were on the dance floor and others by the bar just chatting. you were sat by the table, laughing with claudia and patri as you watched ingrid scolding mapi for jumping too much when she's still recovering from her latest injury, when suddenly a body drops on your lap.

"phew! it's too hot in here!" aitana huffed as she wrapped one arm around your neck and the other fanned her hand towards her face to cool down a bit. she was sitting sideways on your lap, without seemingly any care in the world while you just looked stunned.

your ears quickly caught notice of the giggles coming from patri and claudia's way. you sent them a glare and gulped down the rest of your drink so you could feel a little more confident. you already had a little buzz going on so you tentatively put one of your hands on aitana's thigh and the other on her hip. this must have seemed like an invitation considering that it made aitana wrap both arms around your neck and wiggle on your lap to get closer to you.

"i'm tired." she groaned. you let out a small laugh and tapped her thigh, "well, when you're running around a field for 90 minutes and then dance throughout the night, i think it's bound to make you tired." aitana frowned at you, "but i have a lot of stamina."

"why don't you go home and show her some of that stamina, chica?" patri shouted across the table, laughter in her voice. your eyes shoot daggers at the mallorquina whereas aitana looked confused. "qué?" aitana shouts back, clearly clueless of patri's suggestion. "don't mind her." you rolled your eyes and with some alcohol induced confidence, you grabbed aitana's jaw to turn her head back to you.

she was the one to look surprised now, eyes flickering to your lips and back to your eyes in a second. once you realized the position you had put yourself in, you tried to brush it off by gently shaking her head and letting go of her jaw, "by now you should know some of our teammates aren't the brightest." you smirked as patri's "hey!" can be heard. but aitana continued looking at you, seemingly breathless as what seemed like realization came across her face.

aitana cleared her throat and stood up "i should go home." she said, grabbing her purse in an haste. "but you were drinki-" you're cut off as aitana quickly states that ingrid and mapi are leaving and will take her. you watched her leave with a confused look and slightly anxious you went too far.

–

after that night, aitana appeared to back off her touching completely. well, off of you. now she went to keira to warm herself up or laid her head on ona's shoulder when she was tired. speaking to you also appeared to be a hard effort on her part and every time she would walk past you in the changing room without even a glance, you would sink back down on your cubbie like a kicked puppy.

lucy had noticed both of your changes in behaviour, aitana's withdrawal and your yearning looks from afar. well, that last one had always been there but now it was just sad to watch. she sat down next to you and put her arm around your shoulders, "what's up, kid?" she asked, concerned. "nothing, grandma, what's up with you?" you shifted your gaze from aitana to lucy, an amused smile slowly forming on your face. lucy's worried look rapidly changed into a gloomy one, "ha ha, you're so funny. did i ever tell you you could be a comedian?" she said, sarcasm rolling off of her tongue as she pushed your shoulder. you giggled, "yes, you have. is your memory declining that fast?". she mocked your phrase, "iS yOuR MemOrY dEcLin– shut up." you gave her an innocent smile and a quick hug, "oh forgive me please, great lucy bronze." she rolled her eyes but eventually caved and dropped the grumpy face, "you coming out with us tonight?" "umm, i don't know, i–"

"she is!" pina pointed at you both. her loud tone drew some attention from the other girls, including aitana, who looked at you probably for the first time that day but quickly drew her gaze away. you noticed this, which brought back that weird rejection feeling in your chest even if you had nothing to be rejected about.

"hey." lucy brought your attention back to her, "i think it will be good for you to come with us, okay? have a little fun, distract a little and if you want to, you can annoy me all night." she looked at you with a charming grin, pretty persuasive really. that managed to crack a smile out of you and you nodded, "deal."

–

you intended on getting absolutely smashed tonight. if aitana didn't want to talk to you or even interact with you anymore it's because you must've done something, right? you went too far or said something that weirded her out and now your friendship was ruined. so you were going to drink it out and try to forget all about it.

you were about to begin your night's mission when patri walked over to you at the bar, "hey! i need a favour!" she shouted over the loud music. you looked at her, and waved off the bartender, "what is it?" you asked. she pointed in the direction of the bathroom, "can you go check if i left my purse in the toilet? i've been trying to find it everywhere, i'm gonna go check on one of the other rooms now so can you do me this favour, pleeease?" she begged, trying her best to look desperate.

to be fair, you knew that she would insist even if you refused so it didn't take much convincing for you to nod and walk over to the bathroom.

when you got in, however, you realized why patri had "assigned" you the bathroom to look for her "lost" purse.

aitana was standing by the sink when she realized you walked in. her eyes went wide for a second, probably startled to see you and proceeded to wipe her hands and make her way to the door.

"no." you stood by the door, blocking her way out. you don't know where this new-found confidence came from, maybe the adrenaline of being alone with aitana, or the pent up frustration and yearning that she caused over the last few weeks but you were glad it was here, and you were gonna ride it out for as long as you could. "why have you been ignoring me?" you asked, your eyes fixed on aitana's.

"i haven't been ignoring you."

"you have."

"i haven–"

"aita, stop." she opened and immediately closed her mouth. "tell me please whatever i did wrong. i promise you that if i just knew, i'd take it back. I'd take back whatever i did a million times if it meant you got to talk to me again." you rambled on, no filter whatsoever.

"you did nothing wrong." she answered quietly. "then why did you ice me out? you don't talk to me, you barely look at me and you never touch me anymore. i don't understand what happened." you blurted out, distressed. she looked up at you with guilt plastered on her face.

you saw her struggle internally as she sighed, covered her face with her hands and walked around the bathroom before returning to stand in front of you. "that other night." she started, "i felt something." she looked away from you, "i mean. i had already felt something before, but that night, when you grabbed me, i– i dont know. i realized something."

what? that you didn't matter? that you were ugly? your mind started thinking of the worst scenarios but when she saw you the fear in your face, she immediately interjected, "it's nothing bad! i promise." she put her hand on your arm, the first time she'd touched you in a while.

"i realized why i was clinging to you so much. i know that i am a touchy person but with you, it was just… different." you frowned in confusion but nodded at her to keep going, "i want to touch you all the goddamn time. not just at training or after a game, i mean i want to hold you and be held by you while we fall asleep. i want to hold your hand when we go for walks, i want you to hug me while i cook dinner or when we're watching scary movies, i just – i want you." she finished with a sigh, an agitated look on her face as she stared into your eyes.

you were speechless. aitana wanted you? the same way you wanted her?

when she saw you kept being silent after a while, she continued, "i'm sorry for distancing myself, but these feelings… they are new to me. i didn't know what to do with them, how to approach you, if i should tell you, i was scared you didn't feel the sa–"

"can i kiss you?" you interrupted.

"what?" she asked quietly, shock all over her face.

you put your hands on the back of her neck, slightly tugging on her hair, so her head turns upwards to you. you lean closer, lips almost brushing hers, "i asked if i could –" you were cut off by aitana's lips pressing yours with urgency. she grabbed your waist, strong arms pulling you closer. you sighed in pleasure within the kiss, which prompted her to stick her tongue into your mouth. you tugged on her hair a little harder and pressed your tongue against hers. you pulled away to take a breath and grabbed her jaw, a cocky smirk forming on your face when her hooded eyes filled with lust, "this is what made you realize you wanted me?" she nodded, breathless. you pulled her in and gave her a hard kiss, teeth and tongues clashing together before you pulled away again.

"i am so glad patri made me come look for her lost purse."

"huh? lucy told me to come find her lost purse."

a/n: idk if some expressions are used correctly, english is not my first language so if u guys have anything point at, my asks are open :) also i didn't proof read sorry i finished this pretty late and im sleepy 🤪✌️

#aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati imagine #aitana bonmati x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #barca femeni x reader

870 notes · View notes

bradshawssugarbaby · 1 month

Text

All The Pretty Girls - Bob Floyd x Reader

A/N: Inspired by All The Pretty Girls by Kenny Chesney.

pairing: Bob Floyd x reader

warnings/content: sickeningly sweet Bob fluff.

word count: 3.1k

I'm home for the summer, shoot out the lights Don't blow my cover, oh I'm free tonight I'm coming over, call all your friends "Somebody hold me", all the pretty girls said All of the whiskey, went to my head "Shut up and kiss me", all the pretty girls said

Bob took in a deep breath as he walked up the long, dirt pathway that lead to his parents’ farmhouse. It’d been months since he’d been back in Kentucky - years, even, and as he approached the sounds of the party his family was throwing in the backyard, he felt himself fighting harder and harder to resist the overwhelming urge to turn around and run as fast as he could back to his rental car, hop in and catch the next flight back to San Diego. He contemplated the excuses he could come up with to explain his sudden disappearance, but before he had a chance to figure out the minor details, a familiar voice called out to him.

“Bobby! There’s our favourite lil pilot!”

His uncle shouted from across the yard, coming over to him with a firm slap on the shoulder as he greeted him. Bob tried not to cringe at the juvenile nickname his family still called him - he hated being called Bobby. No one back in San Diego knew him as anything other than Bob - it felt more grown up. He was the baby in his family, often called Bobby in a condescending way to remind him of how much younger he was than everyone else.

He’d been the surprise baby in the family - born unexpectedly when his mother was 37, following behind four older sisters who were 6, 8, 11 and 13 when he was born. Now, at 32, Bob felt himself recoil internally everytime someone called him that, especially if it was his family. His dozen nieces and nephews were about the only ones he’d tolerate it from, and occasionally his grandmother - who at this point was over 90 years old, and who was he to tell her no?

Bob adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, forcing a smile as he turned to face his boisterous family. Growing up, he’d always wondered if he was adopted - he was quiet, reserved, and shy - the complete opposite of everyone in his family tree. In fact, it was a running joke with his older sister Kate that he was adopted. He believed it for a while when he was 6 - it explained so much about him, or so he thought. Until, that was, the moment that his eldest sister, the often bossy and in control Jennifer, pulled out the home videos that had been recorded when Bob was born - a sight that Bob still couldn’t erase from his memory, regardless of how hard he tried to.

“I’m not so little anymore, Uncle Don,” Bob said with a sheepish smile as his uncle pulled him in for a bear hug.

“No, s’pose you aren’t now, are ya? You got yourself a little lady now, Bobby?”

“Not yet. I’ve been busy - haven’t been stateside in months, actually. This is my first chance at leave in over a year. Just never bothered taking it, I guess.”

That was a lie - Bob had taken a couple weeks leave last year, but he spent it at his home in San Diego, refreshing the decor and repainting to make it more to his tastes and basking in the peaceful quiet of his new space. He’d spent a day or two wandering around downtown San Diego with his friend, Bradley, the two of them exploring the area together - Bradley showing Bob all the sites he’d remembered from photographs and childhood memories. Bob couldn’t tell his family that though - they’d be crushed to learn that he had time off and chose not to spend it with them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see them, he was sure of it. He just didn’t want to field all the questions he knew came with each visit. Nothing was off limits to his family - his love life, relationships, his personal details - he’d lost count of how many phone calls included a casual “So, meet anyone special yet, Bobby?”. He knew they meant well, but God, was he ever tired of it.

That was the other thing he’d grown tired of - watching his language all the time. His family was religious - far more so than he’d ever been, and the idea of swearing and cursing was scandalous to them, but it was something Bob’d grown used to in his 14 years serving in the Navy, between the Academy and on base. Trying to curb it around his family members was a task in and of itself.

“Robert!” His mother's arrival interrupted his ruminations, her fervent embrace enveloping him in a maternal cocoon. "Your accent's gone already, I knew California would be bad for you," she lamented, a tinge of jest lacing her words.

“Hi Ma, missed you,” He nodded, hugging her back firmly with a smile, “Relax, Ma, I’m still a Southern boy at heart, even if I don’t sound like it. Two of the guys in my squad are from the South too. Jake’s from Texas, Bradley’s from Virginia. I’ll probably find my accent again soon now that I’m stationed with them at North Island. At Lemoore I wasn’t paired up with anyone from here.”

“Ooh, Robert,” she said softly, rubbing his shoulder as she spoke to him, “There’s someone who’s been askin’ ‘bout you.”

Bob was about to ask who it was when the question was answered for him. He turned in the direction his mother was facing and felt his cheeks flush a bright red as he saw you. You and Bob had been friends as children - best friends, in fact. You’d kept in contact over the years, but eventually, around your 24th birthdays, the hangouts became less frequent, the phone calls grew further apart and texts took longer to answer, until eventually, they stopped. Standing in front of him now, eight years later, he couldn’t imagine for the life of him why he ever stopped talking to you.

His mind raced with a million thoughts at once, visions of what life would have been like if he’d manned up and asked you out. If he’d decided to risk it all in high school and take you to prom, or if he’d asked you out when you went to university a couple hours drive away from the Naval Academy. He figured he probably would have married you, if given the chance to go back and do it again. Own a house with a big yard, a half a dozen kids running around, some just like him, with sandy blonde hair and deep blue eyes, and some just like you - a vision of beauty in his mind.

He snapped back to reality when he felt you wrap your arms around him, a wide smile spreading across your face. He hugged you firmly, not wanting to make his sudden desire to hold you close evident. For all he knew, you could be married with a family by this point - it wouldn’t be odd at all, not now in your early thirties. In fact, he felt like he was the odd one out compared to everyone he’d grown up around in Kentucky. Most of the people he’d gone to school with were parents to kids approaching third grade.

“It’s so good to see you!” you exclaimed cheerfully as you pulled back from Bob’s embrace, sporting a warm, friendly grin.

“Yeah, it’s great seeing you too. Wow, it’s uh…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Eight years, give or take.” You nodded quickly, shrugging the idea off as you met Bob’s cobalt blue eyes, finding it hard not to get yourself lost in them. He always did have the prettiest eyes you’d ever seen, framed perfectly now by silver wire framed glasses.

“How have you been?” He smiled as he guided you over towards the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and turning to look at you, “You want some sweet tea?”

“I’d love some, thanks Bob,” you nodded, remembering that he preferred going by that now that he was older.

As Bob poured two glasses of his mom’s homemade sweet tea for each of you, your eyes wandered over him, taking in the sight before you. The last time you’d seen him, Bob still resembled the teenage boy you’d crushed on throughout high school, but now, standing in his place, was a man. He stood at a solid six foot one, his blonde hair neatly combed, and a more adult style pair of wire glasses adorning his face, as opposed to the thick, dark square frames he wore throughout the time you knew him.

“I’ve been good,” you nodded slowly as you sipped the cool, brown liquid, the notes of lemon, sugar and black tea dancing on your tongue, “How about you? I heard you’re stationed out west now?”

“Yeah, I was at Lemoore, which is further north in California, but now I’m at North Island, in Coronado. Just outside of San Diego, actually. Other side of the bay.”

“How do you like it there? Bet the weather’s great, like, all the time, isn’t it? Much better than what I get out in D.C.”

“You’re in D.C. now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling softly, “Never left after college.”

Bob listened empathetically as you filled him in on everything he’d missed in your life over the past eight years. As you spoke, he couldn’t help but feel his attention wavering, not because he wasn’t interested in what you had to say, but because he couldn’t help but envision all the things that could’ve happened had he been brave enough to ask you out earlier. He wanted to kick himself for not trying for you - he’d always been fond of you. The sheer thought of you asking about him, and coming back to Kentucky to see him when he came home was enough to make him think of how much he’d screwed up before.

You felt yourself rambling nervously as you talked to Bob, trying to avoid any awkward silence between the two of you. You were so relieved to have this moment with him - just to talk to him again. You heard he was single, and you knew you still had unresolved feelings for him so when your mom had told you about the homecoming barbecue that Mrs. Floyd was planning for him, you knew you had to make the drive home, just to see what could’ve been between you both, and to see if anything remained between you.

As the night carried on, you felt yourself falling further and further for Bob - and now, you were left wondering why you hadn’t been bold enough to ask him out before. Why now, when it was the least convenient for the two of you, had to be when you realized this. You lived on the complete opposite coasts from one another - a six hour flight spanning the United States between the two of you. Although, the more time spent with Bob that evening, the more you found yourself considering taking a transfer to your job’s California office. Los Angeles was a much more doable three hour drive to San Diego - you could manage driving three hours every few days to see him if you needed to.

By 9pm, the party had dwindled down to a few members of Bob’s family, his parents, and you - everyone else having turned in for the night or headed home earlier. You, however, were staying a couple of houses away at your parents’ home, and could manage to stay as long as Bob wanted you to. He looked around the party, and, upon realizing he wouldn’t be missed anymore if he disappeared, he took you by the hand playfully, leading you to the old tree at the back of the property.

Nestled in the tree sat the treehouse you’d spent so many hours in together as kids, looking completely unchanged from when you’d last seen it. Bob smiled as he started climbing up the makeshift ladder, looking back at you with a mischievous grin - one you hadn’t seen in him since you were children.

“You comin’?” he ribbed playfully as he swung himself up into the treehouse, reaching his hand down to offer you help.

You shook your head, laughing at how ridiculous you felt, but quickly climbed your way up the tree to join him. He helped you into the treehouse, smirking at you as he adjusted his glasses. The treehouse was still decorated the way you’d left it - old toys sitting out on the table, a small toy chest full of Nerf guns and playing cards, a couple of toy cars and action figures joining them. Bob picked one of the action figures up, laughing as he held it in his hands, as if all the memories of you two playing together came flooding back at once.

“I forgot about this place,” you mused softly, your voice barely a whisper against the backdrop of forgotten treasures.

Bob nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips as he regarded the toy with a mix of fondness and amusement.

"Yeah, my nieces and nephews use it I guess sometimes. Glad to see they've left Batman intact for me though," he remarked, lifting the action figure as if to emphasize its importance.

A nostalgic chuckle bubbled up within you as you recalled the shared adventures of your childhood. "Hey, I remember that one! Batman used to come in and rescue Barbie for me all the time."

A playful glint danced in Bob's eyes as he remembered those innocent days of make-believe. "And then you insisted that Batman had to kiss Barbie."

"Listen, Barbie wanted to thank him," you protested with a playful grin, memories of imaginative play flooding back with each word.

"I think you just watched too many romcoms," Bob teased, his voice laced with affectionate banter.

Shaking your head, you couldn't help but laugh at the playful exchange, the echoes of your shared history ringing through the air. But as your laughter subsided, you found yourself drawn once more to Bob's gaze, the warmth of familiarity mingling with the weight of unspoken questions.

"Do you ever think about what would have happened if we dated in high school?" you ventured, the words hanging in the air like a delicate thread connecting past and present.

"All the time, actually," Bob admitted, his tone tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

"I always figured I'd end up marrying you," you nodded, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and sincerity as you confessed the thought that had lingered in the depths of your mind for far too long.

The air seemed to crackle with tension as your words hung in the space between you, each syllable echoing with the weight of unspoken truths and long-held desires. Across from you, Bob's expression shifted, a kaleidoscope of emotions flickering across his features before settling into a mask of gentle surprise.

The soft glow of the evening sun cast golden hues upon the scene, lending an ethereal quality to the moment as you both grappled with the revelation that hung heavy in the air. For a heartbeat, the world around you seemed to stand still, as if holding its breath in anticipation of what would come next.

Bob's gaze softened, his cobalt eyes reflecting the vulnerability mirrored in your own. "I… I never knew you felt that way," he admitted, his voice a gentle murmur against the backdrop of fading daylight.

A rush of uncertainty washed over you, mingling with the warmth of raw honesty that spilled from your lips. "I think I just, pushed it away, you know? I didn’t want us to stop being friends over it or anything as kids." you confessed, your words a whispered confession carried on the breeze.

Silence enveloped you once more, punctuated only by the distant chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. In the quiet of the moment, the weight of unspoken possibilities hung heavy between you, a delicate dance of hope and fear weaving its way through the air.

Then, with a soft exhale, Bob reached across the space between you, his hand finding yours with a gentle certainty that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "Maybe… maybe we should talk about this," he suggested, his voice tentative yet filled with a quiet resolve.

As his fingers intertwined with yours, you felt a surge of courage swell within your chest, buoyed by the warmth of his touch. With a nod, you met his gaze, the tension hanging in the air melting away as you closed the distance between the two of you, locking your lips with his in a gentle, tender kiss.

Time seemed to slow to a standstill as the world around you faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of pure connection. His lips met yours with a softness that belied the depth of emotion coursing between you, igniting a spark that set your heart ablaze.

The sensation of his breath mingling with yours sent shivers cascading down your spine, each touch igniting a symphony of sensations that danced across your skin like a gentle breeze. In that fleeting instant, you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace, the weight of the world falling away as you surrendered to the intoxicating pull of desire.

The soft murmur of the evening breeze whispered through the air, carrying with it the promise of a new beginning as you reveled in the sweetness of the moment. His arms enveloped you in a tender embrace, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies, only the shared warmth of your intertwined souls.

For a heartbeat, the world ceased to exist beyond the two of you, each touch a testament to the depth of feeling that bound you together. In the embrace of his arms, you found solace, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of life's uncertainties. As you finally pulled away, the ghost of his touch lingered on your lips, a lingering reminder of the passion that pulsed between you.

Bob’s cheeks flushed bright red, and he began to stutter as he spoke, a trait he’d long grown out of. “I, uh, I…um, that was…something,” he managed to spit out before beginning to ramble about how much he enjoyed kissing you.

“Bob,” you began, laughing softly as your hand gently rested on his cheek.

“Mhmm?”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

#bob x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick fic #robert floyd #bob floyd

444 notes · View notes

missroki · 3 months

Text

OFFICE CRUSH┊when choso kamo’s pretty coworker asks him out, he doesn’t ask questions. it’s no surprise that the quiet IT guy isn’t exactly gifted in the art of romance, but you seem more than capable of showing him the ropes.

content: black coded!female reader x choso, office au, 90s rom-com adjacent, alcohol, flirting (!!!), choso being awkward, car sex, reader has braids, terms used are baby and good girl, no obvious power dynamics, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (pull out method), purposefully lowercase. word count: 3.5k

“are you busy tonight?”

a sudden pause in the typing of keys, pale hands hovering over a manilla colored keyboard. choso stops coding as if it would have helped him hear you better.

“…huh?”

you ask your coworker out on a late wednesday afternoon, rocking back and forth on your heels with your hands clasped behind your back. your eyes are bright and determined in a way that tells him you mean what you say… but, for a minute, choso can’t do anything more than stare.

he’d only seen you in passing in the office, the click of your black pumps recognized easily in the sea of heavy loafers and dress shoes. despite your choice in footwear, you were often moving.

never has the man seen you sitting from his place in the IT department. you were always walking, or more accurately strutting down the halls, looking straight down with a handful of files and notebooks; always busy.

there’s a slight shift in your face (as if you’re going to repeat what you said) but choso interjects. he heard you clearly enough the first time, he was just a man with social skills that left much to be desired.

he answers you, cursing the shake in his voice. "n-no… i don’t think so but... why?" maybe you had a virus on your computer? or perhaps you were in need of fresh eyes on your interim report? choso thinks that maybe you need a spare thumb drive or the key to the electronics closet. he thinks you are here for a favor, something transactional that will explain the soft, polite smile on your lips.

he is proven wrong when you move closer into his space and rest your bottom against his desk, clasped hands now resting on your lap. he tries his best to not stare at your stocking-clad thighs. he wonders how warm they would feel under his hands.

“well,” you start, “since you aren’t busy, we can go out for a drink, right?”

choso feels his nose twitch, watching as your gaze follows the birthmark on his nose. he realizes that you are waiting for a response and clears his throat.

“my brother might need me… he gets home from school pretty early nowadays.”

you smile and tilt your head. "yuuji, right? pink hair, high school student? big ball of sunshine?”

he blinks once, then twice. okay. “that would be him… how did you know that?”

you shift your hips to face him better, palm on the desk as you lean over to point at the lone personal item he has.

it’s a picture of choso and his brother, old and slightly blue at the edges from water damage. “he showed up once because he left his house key at home. you went down and brought him yours.”

admittedly, choso barely remembers this interaction. he curses his stomach for warming at the fact that you do. “oh.”

despite his lackluster response, your smile doesn’t waver, acrylic nails tapping against the surface that he works on everyday. it’s those gentle clicks that make his eyes shift downwards to where the sound is coming from, distracting him.

a holiday on his calendar mousepad is covered by your pink and red fingernails.

“you’re… interesting,” you offer as explanation, “and i want to spend time with you. is that alright?”

you’re beautiful, he thinks. beautiful in a way that he doesn’t see often; pretty brown skin and soft-looking braided hair. he wonders how long it takes you to twist the strands in such an intricate way. he wonders if it would be weird for him to ask.

choso hesitates, but eventually nods. “…i’m sure yuuji won’t miss me too much.” he concludes, the smallest of lop-sided grins on his face. “it’ll only be for a little while, right?”

you sit up and choso feels as if he can breathe again without your intoxicating scent so close to him. you dramatically cross a finger over your heart.

“you’ll be home by ten. scout’s honor.”

choso is certain now of three things:

one, he likes strawberry daiquiris. two, he really likes drinking them with you. and three, you were most definitely not a girl scout.

he knows this because it is already eleven thirty pm and you have sneakily convinced him to stay longer than intended. after a few rounds you became alarmingly convincing.

even with choso’s clumsy coin fumbling and the obvious red flush of his face, your companion is positive that he is not drunk. you smile as your cloudy mind focuses on the pretty arch of his cupid's bow and the deep set of his tired eyes.

with warming alcohol in his system, choso finds himself loosening up more and more. his gaze wanders without fear of you noticing.

it doesn’t change the fact that you do.

his suit jacket is draped on your lap to cover your legs, your pink blouse curving along your chest so firmly that it’s hard to look away.

suddenly, you lean in to sip his drink (which confuses him since you have your own) and choso has to try his best to refrain from staring at your breasts as they press against the bar table. as the night has progressed you’ve gotten more bold, more touchy. he likes it. he likes you and the small hint of lipstick that stains his pink straw now.

you sit back up and wipe away the condensation from the hand that was holding the glass steady.

“is this a birthmark?” you ask with glassy eyes, a cold thumb moving up to caress the deep purple line on his nose bridge. choso is just drunk enough that his heart flutters and he doesn’t pass out on the spot.

“yes, i was born with it.” he pauses, thinking that you want him to elaborate. “yuuji used to joke and say they must have used a permanent marker to tell me apart from the other babies.”

you laugh and it’s a small thing but… choso can’t help but to grace you with a lazy smile. “it’s nice. makes you look more unique.” your thumb moves up to his dark circles, pressing gently into the skin. he feels warmth pool in his belly. the alcohol, he thinks. “i’m going to assume these are more man made?”

he nods, heart beating fast against his chest. your hand is gentle and your eyes are kind. choso wonders if you have always been so sweet, if the heavy burdens of adult life haven’t quite hit you in the same way they have him. is that weird? he won’t say that out loud. “yeah, i don’t get much sleep.”

“i’m definitely not helping with that.” you frown a little and choso thinks of every possible way he could make you smile again. “that’s no good. who’ll help yaga out when he falls for another pop up porn ad?”

he laughs at that, feels it deep in his stomach. you’re funny, choso thinks. you’re pretty. your lips look soft and he wants to kiss you.

“i think you’re more than capable–“

“hey, is that–? kamo-chan!”

a shrill voice comes from across the bar, onlookers (that are suspiciously all couples tonight) glancing over to get a glance at whoever was making a fuss. to choso’s horror, he sees a familiar head of long blue hair, a large smile that barely fits the face of the person wearing it.

behind him is a small group of people wearing the usual business casual with an assortment of red and pink items like… heart shaped headbands? he can tell by the way they stumble over that this is perhaps the second or third bar of the night.

“all these years of me trying to get you to come out and you only do it when she asks you to?” mahito pouts, an arm moving to rest around your shoulders. if you’re annoyed by his interruption, you don’t make it known. you smile easily and return his side hug.

choso wonders now if physical affection is something you give out freely. maybe he’d interpreted your earlier touches wrong, as something less than innocent.

he feels a blush rising to his cheeks and hopes you assume it is just the booze.

“maybe i’m just more convincing,” you tease, “i wanted to spend some time with one of our most valuable team members. working with a bum like you can really mess with my productivity.”

mahito gasps dramatically. “wow! i guess there must be love in the air then!” there’s a small sea of laughter that follows. choso begins to once again realize that it is not you two alone anymore, that your entire department has somehow managed to force their way into the imaginary bubble you’d built around each other.

someone suggests you all move to a booth and he feels his social battery deplete within seconds.

another hour passes before choso finally realizes that he is way in over his head. mahito has managed to simultaneously steal all of your attention and even some of choso’s as well.

he’s funnier than him, he thinks. even with his weird scarred skin and bony frame you seem to enjoy his company and the child-like way he downs shots of tequila as if they’re water. he licks salt from various places and you chuckle and smile affectionately, like he’s a puppy.

is that what you were into? guys who could talk to you for hours about nothing at all? choso doesn’t think he could ever be that man. he was awkward and somewhat insecure. you were well liked and that meant you’d be hard to keep entertained. it’s a role he isn’t sure he can fill for you.

everyone is laughing, including you. something about the department that choso would have no knowledge of.

trying his best to avoid knocking shoulders with anyone, the man removes himself from the suffocating booth, back aching from the way he had to twist at all times to fit in the space.

choso thinks he’s always been like that. taking up space; having to make himself smaller in order to fit where he didn’t belong to begin with.

his hands reach for his pockets, glancing down to make sure he didn’t leave his wallet. when he lifts his head, he finds that your eyes are on now him.

your face tells him that you’re a bit alarmed at his leaving but he doesn’t wait for you to announce it to everyone before he’s moving quickly to the back door.

the hinges creak loudly, the threshold slightly damp as he shuffles out. it’s raining, he realizes. a drizzle that quickly dampens his dark hair.

the flickering streetlight illuminates his old car, the path straight ahead as he makes his way across the barely lit alleyway. his mind is clearer than it was in the suffocating bar atmosphere, but it is still muffled by anxious thoughts.

it’s because of this that he doesn’t hear the click of high heels against wet pavement.

“choso!” you call out, a small huff in your voice as you abruptly stop behind him. he blinks hard to rid his eyes of water, turns around to find you holding something, his jacket. oh. “you’re leaving without saying goodbye?”

you look upset, concerned even. choso quickly takes his jacket from you so that he can use it to cover your head — not really thinking when he does it. you give him a curious look.

“your hair,” he explains, “it’ll get... wet out here.”

you roll your eyes playfully, walking closer until you are almost chest to chest. “i don’t care about that right now.” you hum, eyes trying desperately to meet his. he turns his head and you boldly grip his chin. your fingertips are so warm. “did i do something wrong? are you upset with me?”

he reaches a hand out to gently hold your wrist, thumb against your pulse point. “not upset, just thought you might want to end the night with people you know… i’m not good with groups.”

you think this over for a moment and nod. “yeah i… i should have guessed that, actually. you were probably overwhelmed. i’m sorry.”

“you don’t have to be…” he murmurs. “i just needed to get away and i didn’t want to ruin anyone’s night.”

you let go of his chin, both hands coming up to push his now soaked hair away from his face, the strands curl around his ears where your hands rest. without realizing, his touch has settled on your waist. you don’t seem to mind.

“i like you." you admit, brazenly. “i have for a while now.”

"i’m sorry." he responds instinctively, not really processing your confession at first. you really laugh at that and it makes his mind go numb for a moment. “i mean… i like you, too. a lot, actually.”

you smile and it’s so blindingly beautiful. how did he go without knowing you for so long? “i hoped so… i saw the way you were watching me earlier. i thought you were gonna kiss me a couple of times.”

something in his mind twitches, directly in the space next to mischief and only a step away from desire.

“did you want me to?”

you eyes widen just a fraction. now it is your turn to be flustered. choso finds himself relishing in that just a little. “…what?”

maybe a… lottle.

“did you… want me to kiss you?” his thumbs rubs gentle circles on your blouse covered tummy, the motion soothing and weirdly familiar. like the smell of a perfume that hits you with unknown nostalgia, the hint of someone from your past.

you lean in slightly, nose gently nudging his. “i still do.” you whisper, “would that be okay?”

your breathes mingle, barely an inch separating the two of you. choso finds himself laughing at the cheesiness of it all.

you aren’t his first kiss, but he imagines that kissing in the rain will still be rom-com worthy.

“more than okay.” he murmurs.

his lips press to yours.

choso is certain now of three things:

one, he likes kissing you. two, he really likes kissing you. and three, your mouth is the best thing he has ever felt.

the backseat of his compact suv is just enough for you both to fit, your legs on either side of his hips as your hands explore his body. your tongue has managed to touch every inch of choso’s neck and chest, blushing red spots appearing on his soft pale skin.

your left hand traces over the mark on his ribs, large and expansive. he has to hold in a moan when you run your fingertips against it. “you’re so sensitive,” you hum, “are you nervous?”

he starts to unbutton your blouse, let’s his thumbs find your still covered nipples. he grazes his nail against the fabric, isolating the movement as you let out a soft gasp. “not nervous,” he responds. “i just really want you. you’re… gorgeous.”

you try to hide how much this affects you but choso can see it in the way your eyes soften at his praise. “thank you.” you breathe out, helping him by unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the ground with your already discarded stockings.

it barely hits the floor mat before choso’s mouth latches onto your chest, tongue swirling as his lips suck on the perky brown bud. your nails immediately tangle into his damp hair and your hips begin to grind on their own.

a hand reaches down between your legs and you whimper as your panties are forced to the side. “can i touch you?” he asks, lips trailing from one of your breasts to the other. “wanna make you feel good, need to get you ready for me.”

you nod with a giggle. “oh, yeah? you that big down there kamo-san?”

he is dead serious when he replies. “yes.”

choso’s fingers are long and your cunt lets him in with very little resistance. he’s glad to know his kisses made you melt for him so easily, a surge of confidence emerging. your thighs shift as you grind against his hand, the other against your back as your braids weave throughout his fingers. he’s careful not to tug, just feeling the smoothness of them against his skin.

“is this okay?” he asks, leaning in to press soft kisses to your neck.

you nod, relishing in the feeling of his surprisingly fit body beneath your hands. you would have never expected him to be so… strong and firm. you imagine him sweaty and panting, lifting weights over his head as you watch from the corner. your patience grows thin at the thought. you want him. now.

“choso,” you whimper, your plea immediately making him halt his movements.

“are you okay? what’s wro-“ you silence him with your lips and lift your thighs so that his soaked fingers ease from your heat. your hand moves to tug down his slacks, the belt already unbuckled as you caress the obvious swell of his cock. his breath hitches as he goes to grip your waist. “s-shit, i see. you want me to– okay, i’ll give it to you.”

he allows you to pull out his cock and you gasp as it throbs and twitches against his stomach. it’s… huge. long and thick with a deeply flushed tip.

you stare at it so intently that your lover feels self conscious. “is it… okay?” he asks, watching your expression with curiosity.

you glance up at him and sense his worry, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “you’re perfect, choso. don’t worry. i’m just… surprised.”

he rubs your back tenderly, hoping to ease your concern. “i’ll go slow. i promise.”

when you ease down on him, choso has to fight the burning urge to immediately shoot his load. you’re just so tight and warm that it makes him dizzy. it’s only when you take him to the base that he holds you still. “i’ll let you get used to it first. then we can keep going. just stay still and i’ll—“

suddenly, you lift and slam back down on top of him. your movement is so sharp that choso chokes on his words, the fluttering of your pussy making him clench his abs to fight away his release.

he can barely think before your body is bouncing on top of him, your forehead pressing against his. you read his mind, seemingly. “don’t think,” you gasp out, “j-just fuck me, choso.”

“i – oh fuck – i don’t want to hurt you.”

“you won’t, baby. i promise i can take it.” you move his hands from your waist to your ass, prompting him to squeeze at the soft flesh. “i can take it.”

his desire to treat you gently is not as strong as the pleasure he’s feeling, and soon choso is thrusting faster up into your cunt, gripping your ass to move you up and down.

“oh!” you cry out, perky breasts bouncing in his face with each hurried thrusts.

“shit.” he grits out, jaw clenched as he uses your pretty body. “take it,” choso whines, “fuckin’ take it.”

your pussy clenches at his words, panting and moaning against his mouth as your orgasm builds. “i-i think i’m gonna cum. c-choso i–“

one of his hands cup the back of your neck, his eyes not leaving yours as you spasm and twitch on his lap.

“it’s okay. let go for me. i’ve got you, baby.”

you cum with a sharp gasp, unable to look away with his strong hand keeping you in place. “good girl,” he murmurs, “such a good girl… let me fuck you through it.”

your body slumps against his, but choso doesn’t stop his movements. his cock plunges in and out of your hole, stretching you out as your cum drips down to his heavy balls. he wants to cum in you, to fill you up with his load until it drips between your legs… but he knows he has to save it for another time.

his orgasm hits him like a tidal wave; sudden and breath taking as he spills his load between you two, coating both of your stomachs in a sticky layer of white.

you whimper as it quickly cools, giggling at the face choso makes when you grab his shirt to clean you both up. he looks like a cat, disgruntled and pouting. you shrug. “it’s your cum.”

he couldn’t argue with that.

it’s weirdly comfortable, the time after your encounter where you both tug on your clothes, minus choso’s christened white button up.

you tell him he looks better without it, fingertips grazing his abdomen teasingly. he has half the mind to take you again, but there would be more time to get to explore your body.

maybe if he played his cards right you’d let him taste you.

choso imagines that the always empty electronics closet will be a perfect location.

“hey,” you whisper, hand pushing his dark hair behind his ear.

choso lets out a hum, twisting his neck so that his lips press tenderly to your wrist “yeah?”

you smirk. “happy valentine’s day.”

… oh.

note: hello, this is an old fic of mine that i’ve re-written and given a new v-day flair. thanks for reading and happy (early) love day.

MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.

#‧₊˚ 🖇️ ۫ ⭒ — sorin writes.#choso x reader #choso x female reader #choso x black!reader #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso fluff #choso fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x female reader #jjk x black reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #choso x you

608 notes · View notes

natailiatulls07 · 2 months

Text

Pen Pals

Oscar Piastri x Female!Reader

Summary - Strangers to pen pals to lovers

Warning - Cuteness overload!

Reader works in redbull as a media girl

Hi there,

I'm Y/n and I'm excited to write you! I've had a few pen pals in the past but none have really worked out.

But I digress, maybe we should start by introducing each other with a few fun facts; I love formula one! I am and will always be a cat person, having two cats of my own and my favourite past time would have to be finding and trying new recipes which either works or becomes a disaster, there's no inbetween!

I look forward to hearing about you and hopefully we'll get on well with eachother!

Yours truly,

Y/n

Dear Y/n,

It's lovely to meet you! This is my first time so go easy on me! I loved reading your letter and found it quite ironic as I am also a big fan of formula one.

A few facts about me is that my favourite film is 'ten things I hate about you' even though my friends always tease me for it. My favourite formula one driver would have to Oscar Piastri, next best rookie since Hamilton in my opinion.

Who's your favourite driver? And which team do you support??

Yours truly,

Oscar

Dear Oscar,

What a coincidence! I would definitely agree that Oscar Piastri is a great driver, espercially after winning a sprint in his rookie year! But however, I am a Max Verstappen girl through and through so that also means I'm a redbull supporter as well. But I have respect for each and every other driver and team!

I don't see how your friends can tease you about your favourite film, it is a iconic late 90s film with a stunning cast! See picking a favourite film for me is hard! There's too many to pick from like paddington or pretty woman or even oceans eight!

So what gotten you into starting to write pen pal letters??

Yours truly,

Y/n

Hi Y/n,

Yeah with my job I find that alot of the people I talk to are very fake and greedy. I felt as those if I just starting writing letters to someone I could keep an anonymous identity. I hope you'll respect that, I'm sure you will!

Don't get me wrong I love my job, it's something I worked my whole life for. But it feels some what suffocating sometimes.

What about you? You said that you've had pen pals in the past but none have really worked out. I can't see why though, you seem lovely and have a great taste in sport!

Yours truly,

Oscar

Dear Oscar,

Understandable. I promise to remain respectful and I won't pry. I think a pen pal is the perfect way to step away from our lifestyles, it gives us someone that won't judge and you can realise to them.

I started writing to pen pal when I started college. I moved away from all my friends and had a rocky break up with my boyfriend at the time.

So from then I tried to find the best pen pal. But believe it or not, not many people start a pen pal to talk to others and hear others but to just talk about themselves.

A pen pal relationship should be equal and not one sided so often those relationship will have lasted just under two months. But lets not dwell on the past.

Wait important question now! What is your zodiac sign?? It tells you alot about a person.

Yours truly,

Y/n

Time skip a few months -

Hi Y/n!

Just read your last letter, loved your descriptive story about your now sister in laws hen party! I need to see those drunk photos immadiately.

My summer break just started, I have a lot of down time and not a lot to do. Please do you have any suggestions!? I have a feeling that I'm going to spend my summer moving between the gym, my apartment and my local store.

How did the date with that guy go? Was the trip to the jungle mini golf really worth it? I remember I went on a date once, we went to a nice restaurant and by the end of the night she was black out drunk. WORST DATE EVER!!

Yours truly,

Oscar

Dear Oscar,

I would give you suggestions on what to do this summer. However just like you, my sofa becomes me seconds home after my bed. Well actually every summer me and my bestfriend deciated a day to binge watching all the Harry Potters! We go all out, getting themed snacks and making a fort out of blankets.

Oh my god! The date was horrible! All he did was talk about his family riches and how 'successful' he is. And to add salt to the wound the place was filled with whiny children. NEVER AGAIN!

Also I've add the photos from the hen party to the envelope, non of them have my face in it but you can see that the bride is enjoying herself.

Yours truly,

Y/n <3

Photos in the envelope -

Hey Y/n,

Looks like the hen party looks as exciting as it sounded! Send my crograts to the bride and groom please.

I'm sorry your date went like that, I hate rich snobs who just glot and I work around them a lot lol! A girl like yourself doesn't deserve to be treated like that, you deserve fancy restaurents and meaningful date. I know I would give you the world.

Harry Potter marathon?? Mmm doesn't sound like a bad idea, I might rope my friend into then, he's british so he'll feel right at home!

Anyways I've been thinking...over these last few months I've grown to trust and adore our little letters back and forth. And I was wondering if you wanted to exchange numbers or something, idk.

I'm actually in Barcelona next week for work, but we can arrange something if you wanted. I just feel like I'd want to put a face to a name and exciting personality!

Yours truly,

Oscar

Hi Oscar,

The world huh? Thats a bold statement...

Wait that ironic! I'm also in Barcelona next week, we could meet somewhere. I can't really do Thursday through to Sunday, that's when my work really starts.

But yeah we can meet at some coffee shop or something, I seen some nice recommendations on tiktok recently.

I'm actually really excited for this! I've never had a pen pal that actually worked out, let alone wanted to meet me, so I feel lucky! Yeah these letters have been fun to write, it's like I've learnt so much from you. Thank you so much!

OMG did you watch the last f1 race in Montreal?! Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo podium! I'm sooo proud Piastri, he is slowly but surely moving up and competing with Verstappen for my fav driver! There I said it!

Yours truly,

Y/n <3

Dear Y/n,

Is Piastri growing on you Y/n?? Ooo that's exciting! But you wouldn't want to disappoint the current world champ, his no 1 fan is going to the dark side!

I would definitely give you the world! In a heart beat actually, you've single handedly made me feel normal and human again and I am forever thankful for that!

So you're working Thursday through Sunday...the exact days that formula one is active in the same city. I feel bad for you honestly, I'm sorry...

How about we meet up on the Wednesday? Should we meet at the three marks coffee?? I've heard great things about their coffee!

Meet me there at 1pm! I actually can't wait! See you then!

Yours truly,

Oscar <3

Outside the cafe -

Stood just outside the cafe, Y/n fiddled with her bag. She didn't know why she was so nervous, she would trust her pen pal Oscar with her deepest darkest secret if needs be.

Busy was an understatement. And Y/n knew fully well why, it was the reason why she was here this week. Formula one. Being one the media girls at redbull meant that she had to attend every race, not that she was complaining.

Just down the street was Oscar, walking head held high and a large grin on his face. He was beyond excited to meet the mysterious Y/n.

When they both began sending letters to each other, they agreed that neither would pry for surnames, addresses and other personal details.

The one thing they decided to do today was dress in all white, making it easy for each of them to pin point each other.

Oscar approached the cafe, his eyes scanning the area for a women dressed in all white. Until he spotted her, it was love at first sight!

He was obsessed with how she stylied her hair, and what she decided to dress like considering the white rule. "Y/n!" Calling out her name, as he made a quick walk towards her.

Y/n could hear her name being called and when she turned she came face to face with the one and only Oscar Piastri smiling down at her. A gasp broke through her lips, surprised that he was her pen pal.

"You're my pen pal?" She asked in disbelief. The Australian driver nodding his head excitedly. "You let me hype you up about your driving and didn't tell me?"

They both broke out into laughter. "Yep! And I loved it!" Oscars face held a cheeky grin, that Y/n instantly fell in love with.

After settling down in a small secluded table just outside the cafe, Y/n turned to Oscar. Her face now holding a cheeky grin. "Is now the best time to tell you that I work at Redbull as a media girl?"

Now it was Oscars turned to look shocked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"So you're telling me we've been right under eachothers noses the whole time!?" Neither expected that they were in reality quite close to each other whilst they were sending letters back and forth.

"What are the chances? Right?"

"Fancy leaving Redbull and join me in Papaya? maybe then Oscar Piastri will be your favourite driver..."

"Oscar!"

#formula one #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #mclaren #mclaren racing #mclaren f1 #mclaren formula 1

709 notes · View notes

thepowerofswayze · 5 months

Text

Crush

originally on ao3

pairing: mike schmidt (2023) / afab reader [gender not specified]

word count: 3K

warnings & info: 18+, first time together, mostly smut, oral sex (both receive), you're abby's babysitter, reader wears a bra, compliments like "pretty"

summary: Abby can't help but tell you all of Mike's business- specifically, that Mike has a crush on you. Luckily, the feeling is mutual.

☆

You were tucking Abby into bed when you caught her staring at you, brows furrowed. “What’re you thinkin’ so hard about?” You asked, tapping her nose.

The girl scrunched her face. “You’re really pretty,” she said, burrowing herself into the blankets. “It makes sense that Mike has a crush on you.”

Not sure you heard her right, you blinked, then laughed. “Very funny,” you sighed, giving her an eye roll and a smile.

“It’s true!” She was sitting up now, undoing all the work you’d put into tucking her in nice and tight. “He’s, like, extra weird around you, like, super fidgety and staring at you. And he fixes his hair before he opens the door every time you come over. And he’s all smiley on the phone with you. He’s never smiley.”

You tried not to betray the way your heart fluttered and instead put on a face like you're deep in thought. “Hm… Well, I’m not sure you’ve convinced me. But how about we talk about it when I’m back tomorrow? Right now, you should be fast asleep, girl.”

Abby was obviously not buying that you’d be willing to talk about it later- and, in fact, you were hoping she’d forget the conversation- but she yawned and lay back down, allowing you to re-tuck the sheets. Her eyes were already dropping as she said, “I’m right, you know.”

You gave her a nod. “I’m sure. Goodnight, Abby.” With a kiss on her forehead, you stood from her bed, turned out the lights, and slipped out the door.

As the door softly closed behind you, you made your way into the kitchen and started cleaning up from dinner. Abby’s words didn’t leave your head. Sure, kids loved misreading things or teasing their siblings, but Abby was a smart kid. She didn’t usually tell you lies. You shook your head, smiling a little at how the butterflies in your stomach stirred. Getting this worked up over intel gathered from a ten year old was silly.

That didn’t mean you thought about anything else as you worked, washing dishes and straightening the living room, picking up stray clothes and tossing them in their rightful places, sweeping the floor when you were done and still restless. An hour or two later, you collapsed on the couch, TV remote in hand. The only things on were Late Night, a rerun of 90s movies, and the infomercial channel. Seth Meyers tempted you from the NBC channel, but when you saw Clueless would start playing in 10 minutes, you settled on the movie reruns. You turned the volume up, just enough to hear it from the couch, then lay your head on the arm rest, doing a terrible job of keeping your eyes open.

It was like you blinked and the room was suddenly dark. In reality, it was hours later. You heard rustling, watching the figure in front of the now switched off TV turn toward you. “Mike?” You asked, knowing already from his posture and the way his hand ran through his hair that it was him.

“Sorry,” he said, mouth quirking up as he watched you stretch and yawn. “I was gonna let you sleep.”

You shook your head sitting up and patting the spot on the couch next to you. “‘S no problem,” you managed as he sat, letting your shoulder press against his. “How was work?”

Mike made a noncommittal noise, ducking his head as you turned to look at him, eyes adjusting to the lighting. The purple under his eyes wasn’t extreme, but it was there. Along with his permanently disheveled hair and week-old scruff, he looked the way the noise sounded. The exhaustion did nothing to hide how handsome he was, though, and you felt the usual rush of adrenaline as you kept studying him. “It was work,” he replied, hands fidgeting in his lap. “How were things here? I see you and Abby cleaned.”

You snorted, and you could swear he smiled genuinely. “Yeah, me and Abby.” You were fully awake now, eyes falling on his restless hands then flitting away to the blank TV screen, still warm. In your mind, a checklist appeared and you involuntarily checked ‘fidgety’ and ‘smiley’ off. “We worked on her homework. Oh, and we ate your leftovers… Sorry...”

He was looking at you now, one eyebrow raised as you gave him a grin that definitely didn’t convey any remorse. “I’m sure you’re so sorry,” he scoffed, eyes leaving yours but scanning your face now. ‘Staring.’ Check. God, this wasn't going to leave your mind, was it? “You didn't have to clean, you know. Thank you.”

Now it was your turn to make a noncommittal noise, accompanied by a shrug as you looked away. “No biggie. Helps me think, anyway.” When he ran his hand through his hair earlier, was that normal? Or was that a ‘fixes his hair when you come over’ occurrence, right in front of you? Suddenly his shoulder touching yours was all you could feel. You couldn’t live like this. “Abby said something funny, actually.”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as he hummed. “Yeah? What’d she say?”

Well, no point in dancing around it. “She seems to think you have a crush on me.”

You could swear Mike’s breath caught. Your shoulder left his as you turned to watch him now, eyes trained on his face. He glanced over at you, then focused on his fidgety hands. No way. “Oh.” There was no way. Your eyebrows raised as he wiped his hands on his jeans. The seconds ticked by. He was too quiet. “What, uh.” Another beat. You watched as he swallowed hard, throat bobbing. “What d’you… think about that?”

Mentally, you pumped your fist, and thanked the universe that kids were so committed to spilling everyone's secrets. “I dunno,” you responded. His obvious nerves were weirdly soothing to yours. Maybe it was the near confirmation that whatever this was, it wasn’t one sided. He was looking at you now, eyes a little wide at how close you two were, faces really only inches away. You could smell his cologne and the coffee on his breath. “I don’t think it’d be all that bad.”

“Yeah?” He barely breathed the word, and it sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes dropped to your lips, and yours did the same to his. “Well.” His voice was low and thick, like he couldn’t believe what he was saying. “I guess we’d probably have to do something about that.”

It was a slightly awkward, very Mike type line, but it might as well have been a Shakespearean proclamation of love the way your stomach did flips. “Probably,” you whispered back. “Definitely.”

His hand moved, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear, and you were barely breathing now. You leaned into the touch, his hand cupping your cheek, his calluses rubbing against your skin. The look in his eyes was going straight to your head, and you leaned in, tilting as your noses brushed.

A second ticked by. He whispered your name. “Are you… you’re sure?”

“Mike,” you breathed, eyes half closed already. “Kiss me.” And he did.

His lips were a little chapped, you thought. He was kissing you gently, and the friction of his stubble against your face was actually kind of nice. His free hand was gripping your waist now, sure but gentle, and your own hands traveled from your lap to his chest, where his heart was beating so hard you vaguely thought he might have a heart attack. As one of your hands moved to the back of his head, tangling in his hair, he let out a noise and the air shifted.

It wasn’t anything crazy- a rather content sigh was all- but it went straight to your stomach. Then lower. You shifted, a hand on his face to guide him as the kiss deepened, while the other tugged at his hair. He reciprocated eagerly, and you faintly registered how sweet he tasted. Another noise escaped, not a little gasp or sigh like you’d both been letting slip, but almost a whine in the back of his throat. You weren’t gonna manage to pull yourself away at this rate.

He chased your lips as you pulled back, just a bit, for air. “Mike,” you murmured. His responding ‘Hm?’ was so eager, you almost dove back in right there, and his thumb on your hip bone just under the hem of your shirt wasn’t helping. But you wanted something else. “If you wanna… We should go to your room.”

His eyes were wide again, and he stood almost abruptly. “Yeah. Yeah, we- cmon.” He took your hand, leading you through the hall as if you weren’t at his house every weekday.

You’d been in his room before, but you’d never been on his bed. You’d never sat with your legs tucked beneath you as he kissed you, his hands now on your waist under your shirt, your hands pulling at his loose curls in ways that made that throaty whine come back. He was gonna be the end of you.

He tugged at the hem of your shirt, and you smiled into the kiss. “Okay,” you murmured, pulling back to take your shirt off. His breath was trembling as you threw the garment to the floor, immediately working on getting his shirt off, too. It joined yours, the start of a pile, and you barely had a moment before his lips were on yours again, his hands back on your waist, on the small of your back. Yours played with the top of his jeans, your thumbs hooking into his waistband. He shivered beneath your touch. “Off,” you murmured, working on his button and zipper. He helped you get them off, helped you get your own pants taken care of, so you both sat there in your underwear.

You looked at the tent in his pants, then back up to meet his gaze. He was looking at you with wide eyes, glancing from your face to your chest. Lower. He took it all in with the same awed expression. His hand traced your side, and you took his face in your hands and kissed him.

Mike’s hands loved to roam. He ran them over your hips, over your thighs, up your back to the clasp of your bra. He fumbled before it released and slid off easily. The air was cold, but his hands quickly came up to replace the fabric, thumbs brushing over your nipples gently.

He pulled back momentarily. “Can I…” The tremor in his voice was too good. It took everything in you not to interrupt him with another kiss. His voice was low, pleading. “I don’t have any condoms. But I can still eat you out.” Then, quickly, “If you want, I mean.”

‘If you want,’ he said. Was he crazy? “Yeah.” You kissed him gently- once, then again. “Yeah. I want that.”

You lay back on his pillows, which smelled overwhelmingly like him, and watched as he climbed over you. His mouth met your neck, kissing gently, trailing down to your collarbone, your breasts, your stomach. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and you lifted your hips to let him tug them off.

Mike’s face was ridiculously reverent. Heat overtook your skin at the sight of him between your legs. He dragged a finger down the slick pooling on you, and your breath quivered. A kiss to your inner thigh. Then to the other one, stubble scratching the sensitive skin. Then his mouth was on you.

The feeling of his tongue tentatively lapping a stripe up your core made you squirm, breath ragged. He did it again, making sure to linger on your clit, then again and again. “That’s good,” you huffed out, and he sped up, the praise spurring him on. One of your hands found its way to his curls, while the other came to rest over your mouth. He sucked on your clit, and you let out a cross between a gasp and a moan. “Fuck, Mike.”

He answered with a groan of his own, obscenely pleased with the reaction he was getting from you. As he continued, one of his fingers slipping inside and pumping in time with his tongue, you bit one of your own fingers in a weak attempt to muffle yourself. His mouth was hot against you as he whined like this was just as good for him. Another finger slipped in, and your head pushed back. You gripped the sheets, chest heaving. “Just like that,” you gasped. The sound of his fingers plunging in and out of you and his mouth sucking on your clit filled the room, a vulgar combination. With his own muffled moans and your gasps added on, you were sure you’d lose your mind.

Your hips rolled up, just about riding his face and fingers. He let you, his free hand moving to cup your ass, his tongue still sucking and working even as he let you choose the pace. “Shit.” You could feel it now, the familiar sensation in your stomach. “Shit, Mike, I’m-” A gasp. “‘m so close.”

“Come on,” he murmured, not even pulling away, his voice reverberating against you. “Please.”

How was he begging for you to come? You glanced down at him in disbelief, and wow. He looked good like this. His head bobbed eagerly, his hair a mess where your hands had been, where one hand still was, his face flushed. You gripped his hair and he made a noise so indecent, it had your mouth falling open as your orgasm crashed into you.

He stayed on you as you rode out your high, slowing down his ministrations, fingers slowly pulling out of you. When you released your grip on his hair and he lifted his head, you were speechless. His face from the nose down was shining from the mix of your slick and his own spit. He brought his fingers up to his mouth, licking what was left of you off, and you all but growled as you pulled him up for a kiss.

He huffed as your hand traveled to the front of his boxers, feeling the wet spot he’d left and his fully hard dick underneath. You smiled into the kiss, continuing to feel him out. He made little noises into your mouth, and you drank them in hungrily. “Fuck,” he murmured, and you stopped.

Mike whined, his eyes searching yours as you pulled away. “Don’t worry,” you reassured him, just as out of breath as he was. “C’mon. Your turn.”

He just about scrambled to comply, switching places with you so he was lying where you had just been. You climbed over him, straddling his hips and leaning down to brush your lips. You traveled down to his neck, kissing and sucking, leaving marks that had him downright whimpering under you. Then, down to his boxers. You kissed him through the fabric before pulling it off with his help. He took in a breath as the air hit him, and you wrapped your hand around him immediately.

“Shit,” he breathed. You wasted no time stroking him, slowly at first, watching him squirm. Then, just as you sped up, you put your mouth on the tip.

Now it was his turn to put his hand in your hair. He was gentle, not quite pulling to the point of pain, but you could definitely feel how much he was enjoying you bobbing your mouth down his length, anything not in your mouth clasped in your hands. If his hand hadn’t been in your hair, he was vocal enough that’d you’d still have a very good idea.

“Fuck,” he babbled, whispering your name followed by a particularly desperate moan. “Fuck, you’re so pretty. It feels so good, so-” He cut himself off with a whimper, holding his hips down so he wouldn’t buck into your mouth, afraid he might hurt you. He was close anyway, and he told you as much in between breathless grunts and groans.

You removed your mouth and he whimpered at the loss before your hand replaced it, keeping up the rhythm as he dropped his head back. He stopped holding his hips down, bucking into your hand shamelessly. “Go on,” you encouraged. “Give it to me.”

He rambled on, your name on his lips as he climaxed and released into your hand. You kept going, guiding him through it as he came down, chest heaving. God, he looked too pretty with that hazy look he was giving you. You told him as much, and he flushed with a sheepish smile, pulling you in for another kiss.

You stayed that way, kissing him as his hands squeezed your hips, until he pulled back smiling. “I should clean us up, probably,” he murmured. At your protesting whine, he shook his head and shimmied out from under you. “If we keep this up I’m going to stop caring about our lack of condoms.”

He disappeared into the connecting bathroom, leaving you with your mouth open and a new throbbing between your legs. He was right. If you two didn’t slow down, you were maybe a couple touches away from also throwing caution to the wind, which wouldn’t work out in either of your favors.

He returned with a damp washcloth, already cleaned up himself. You held out your hand and he wiped it off, then your thighs. He tossed the cloth in the hamper in the corner of the room, then rummaged through his drawers, pulling out a shirt and turning to you. “I, uh. This should be better than nothing, yeah?”

You held out your hands and he tossed it at you. “Thank you.”

He pulled on a pair of fresh boxers while you tugged on his shirt- it smelled like him, his cologne and something that just screamed ‘boy’. You watched as he made his way back to the bed and you scooted over, letting him climb in next to you, pulling the covers over you both.

“You… you are staying. Right?”

You grinned, nodding at him. “Yeah. I’m not driving home right now.” You pressed a kiss to his temple, and he all but melted. “Besides, I wanna hang around with you longer. I like you, in case I hadn’t made it clear.”

Mike huffed a laugh, his hand sliding under what was now your shirt- you were never giving it back to him. Not until it stopped smelling like him, anyway. “Good. I like you, too. A lot.” He kissed your forehead, and you hummed, nestling into him as his thumb made lazy strokes on your hip. “Goodnight,” he whispered into your hair. You drifted off to the sound of his breathing.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's movie #fnaf movie #ao3 #my writing #mike schmidt smut #fnaf smut #mike schmidt imagine #jhutch #josh hutcherson #zee writes

896 notes · View notes

outsideratheart · 3 months

Text

Fear of Failure (Alessia Russo x reader)

A/N: An Alessia Russo fic after I go see Arsenal is becoming a thing.

You had felt like a failure after losing the World Cup Final. It was you job as captain to lead and as a striker to score. When the 90 minutes were over you felt like you did neither.

The pain you felt was tough but it failed in comparison to what you felt when you saw Alessia crying. If possible, her eyes were a brighter shade of blue due to the tears she had shed.

“Come on. Let’s go in” Alessia tried to take your hand but you pulled away.

“I’m going to stay out here. I can’t face them” you walk away leaving Alessia stood alone until Ella comes.

Your relationship was Alessia was very new even though the feelings you had for each other were anything but. It was the first time she had seen you like this and she didn’t know what to do.

The lockeroom is quiet but goes silent as you walk in. You ignore the eyes on you as you head into the ice bath where Lucy is waiting for you.

“What should I do?” Alessia asks Lotte knowing that the defender has experience with you at a club level.

“Give her time. She’ll come to you when she’s ready” it was wise advice and Alessia listened to it.

You came to her when she was on the coach. She left the seat free next to her and you happily slid in. You didn’t say anything but you didn’t pull away when Alessia held you hand. She saw that as a good sign.

She thought that once you were back in England and at Arsenal that you might have cheered up but that wasn’t the case. You were focused on the champions league qualifiers. So much so that you were working yourself into the ground.

The whole team knew it was a cruel form of punishment for the summer so they told Jonas who promised to keep an eye on you.

The first game comes 17 days after the final. You had missed a penalty in the first half but you were relentless after that. Arsenal get the win yet you cannot bring yourself to celebrate. This is what you expected when you play a team like Linköping. You did however make the extra effort to celebrate your girlfriend’s debut.

“Girls” you stand up gaining the attention of the entire team “to Alessia who is now officially a member of the Arsenal”

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen her smile since Australia” Lotte nudges the woman in question.

“It is and even now I don’t think it’s real” Alessia was really begin to worry about you. Everyone you normally talk to isn’t here. Leah, Beth and Viv will meet the team in Germany. Your girlfriend is hoping that once you’re around them then something will change.

When you line up against Paris FC you expect the same result but you find yourself two nil down until the final ten minutes. Alessia gets a goal and hopes you celebrate with her but by the time she finds you, you have the ball in your hand and are running back to the spot. Your determination is rewarded as you score in injury time. Paris then take a lead but you manage to get one back and the game is sent to penalties.

It ends with Arsenal losing and you are quick to blame yourself for the loss. It feels like yet another reason why you are a failure.

“Hey” Alessia tries to get your attention as you walk down the tunnel but she gets not response. She doesn’t give up though “Y/N” her voice is a slightly more serious tone.

“Less, please, I can’t” you cannot meet her eyes.

“Can’t what? Talk to me.” The blonde asks. You were never one to hide from her. Maybe other people but you were always open with her.

“No”

The whole locker room goes silent. A moment that seemed to be private was being held out in the open.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to!” She didn’t deserve you to snap at her “I cannot have you look at me like I’m broken”

“Y/N, you are—“

“Not good enough, I need to be better. Please leave me alone so I can be better”

The next couple of days you were worryingly quiet. You may have spoken to Alessia but you didn’t really say much.

When you landed in Germany you pulled Jonas aside. He told you that you would be rooming with Alessia for the duration of the trip and that it would be a trial for future away games.

“I need you to split me and Alessia up” you told your coach.

“Y/N, I have no issue with your relationship with Alessia. You told me as soon as you knew she was joining the club and I trust you to be professional”

“I don’t mean our relationship, god no. I mean I cannot share a room with her. Jonas I am struggling right now and I cannot put that on her”

“Ok. If that is what you think is best then I’ll put you with Lia”

“Thanks coach”

It was hard for Alessia to see you pull away from her but you did. She noticed that you spent more time with the injured players than you did her. The only person she felt comfortable talking to about this was Lotte as she knew her well and Lotte knew you.

“I don’t get what I did wrong. I know she is struggling and I want to be there for her but she won’t talk to me, not about that anyways”

“She loves you Alessia, anybody with a set of eyes can see that, and you know that she isn’t good about asking for help”

“She’s talking to Leah and Beth though. Why is she ok talking to them but not to me?”

“She isn’t talk to them, she is talking with Viv or at least that is what i’m guessing. Viv is the person Y/N goes to when she doesn’t know what she is feeling. Once she figures that out then she will come to you”

Lotte saw you do the exact same thing when you lost the Champions League semi final. It took you a few days to come to terms with what happened and even then you still blamed yourself.

“I hope so Lotte because I can’t stand to see her hurting and knowing that I can’t do anything to help her”

Meanwhile you were in your therapy session with Viv in one of the quiet areas, or at least that is what it felt like. The Dutch woman was patient with you and listened when you needed to talk. She didn’t ask questions unless you asked her one.

“I failed everyone Viv. First England and now Arsenal. That hurts enough but to know that I have failed the person I love most in the world, that is not something I can handle. I feel like I’m on the verge of breaking and she shouldn’t have to deal with that”

“Have you stopped to think maybe she wants to? I know you struggle with these kind of things but this is the first time you are going though it whilst having a girlfriend. You need to stop seeing her as a team mate because she is so much more than that now”

You hated how right Viv was. You have opened up to Alessia before and she didn’t love you any less when you showed your vulnerable side.

Your girlfriend had accepted that you would come to her when you were ready and now she just wanted to be with you. Only problem is that she couldn’t find you. She had asked every player and staff member yet none of them could give her the answer she was looking for. Then she saw Viv leave one of the physio rooms and between the crack of the door and the door frame she saw you.

For the first time in a long while you looked into her eyes and let her see the pain behind yours. You watch as she hesitated on the other side of the threshold.

“Come here”

Alessia all but ran you to you. Whilst you stayed seated on the physio table, she took a stand between your legs. With her arms wrapped around your neck, her fingers begin playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck.

“I’m struggling Lessi. I felt like a failure after Australia and I thought I would be able to redeem myself this season at Arsenal but I’ve failed again”

“Thank you for telling me”

When she leans down you don’t pull away. You feel your shoulder relax as her lips touch yours.

“You’re not a failure. You lead the lionesses to their first World Cup final and I think that is an amazing achievement”

How could you believe her? She was your girlfriend, never would she admit you let her down.

“I failed you. I wanted to win for so many reasons but you were one of my biggest motivations, you always are. I wanted to win so that I could see the smile on your face as you lift the trophy like you did at the euros. Instead I watched you cry”

“You know one of the things that annoys me the most about you?” Alessia asks and you feel your stomach drop “you are one of the biggest hypocrites I know”

“I am not” you defend yourself and rightly so.

“You are when it comes to football. It’s both a good thing and a bad thing. You always say how we are a team, win or lose we do it as a team. After we played Australia in Brentford, Leah blamed herself. You told her that a loss is not one persons fault”

“It’s not”

“Baby, do you hear yourself?”

You did hear yourself and you realise what your girlfriend was insinuating.

“I just wanted to do good”

“You did. You did so good. Right now though we have to process what happened and move on” Alessia knew that you would talk about your failures all night and maybe that’s what you needed. She also knew that you needed to find closure before it destroyed you.

“And how do we do that?”

“Together” you laugh at her cheesiness “I mean it. I knew I’d learn things at Arsenal but I didn’t think the first one would be that my girlfriend doesn’t come to me when she’s hurting”

“I’m sorry. It’s hard for me to open up to people. I don’t like people seeing me weak, definetley not you”

At first thought that hurt Alessia and she is about to tell you that much but you cut her off.

“I am going to try though. I don’t want to shut you out anymore. For the last couple of days I’ve missed being with you and I don’t want to feel that again. I can’t promise that I will tell you everything, not right now, but I will let you in Less”

This seemed to be enough for your girlfriend because she pulls you up so she can give you a proper hug.

“I’m here and you won’t push me away again. I won’t let you” Alessia’s voice was adamant and you never argue with the blonde when she used that tone.

“I love you Alessia. Do you think we could go away somewhere just the two of us? We have a couple of days off when we get home and I need some time away from football. I’m in desperate needs of some quality Alessia Russo time”

“You know what? Now that I think of it, I am long over due some one on one time with you. How about we go get some food then you can come my room, the room you will be moving into, and we can look at some places?”

You agree with the forward and take her hand as you leave the room. When the two of you walk through the campus restaurant everyone notices the closeness between you and how your hands are intertwined. They also saw a smile of both of your faces, a smile that they were yet to see in Germany.

#alessia russo x reader #alessia Russo one shot #alessia russo imagine #engwnt x reader #engwnt one shot #ingrid engen imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot

442 notes · View notes

eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 4 months

Text

The interview

90sRadiohost!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You decided to have a little fun with your boyfriend while he's busy during an interview.

Warnings: smut, hurt/comfort 90s!Eddie, tommy lee, oral (female & male receiving), slight throat fucking, some dirty talk. orgasm denial. Jealous reader. If I missed anything, please let me know nicely.

Workd cound: little over 4.1k

Mini series masterlist

A/n: Not proofread. Ignore any mistakes. This was kind of rushed, but I hope you all still enjoy it. I recommend at least reading the first fic, but you really don't have to to understand this.

18+ minors dni

Year 1991

Eddie had been teasing you all day. His hands kept inching up your skirt while you were busy organizing his desk. In between commercial breaks, he would lean over and whisper the filthiest things in your ear. He was trying to get prepared for his interview later today, but he couldn't help himself when it came to you. You could tell he was nervous. He always got nervous before a really big interview.

Any time you worked in the studio with him, his hands never left your skin. He was constantly touching you. He'd bend you over his desk before or after his show and take you slow or hard. Depending on his work day.

Today was no different. Even with his anxiety spiked high, Eddie still couldn't take a second to try something with you. You've never dated someone who made you feel this desirable before. The way he looked at you was enough to have you giving in.

You were straighting paper next to him while he was talking to someone who called in for some advice.

"Yeah, but she's got all of these toys. I feel like I'm being replaced." The man on the opposite end of the phone complained. He had called in because he found his girlfriends sex toys, and now he's insecure about them.

Eddie leaned back in his chair and rolled his eyes. He looked over at you and bit his lip before responding. "Her vibrators are not your competition. They're your friend. Use them."

The mention of vibrators reminds you both immediately of your first introduction together. The phone call that started it all and a romance blossomed soon after.

"So is that all you called to cry about?" Eddie smirked. He keeps eyeing you up and down as you straighten up his mess.

"Uhh yeah man, that's all." The man awkwardly replied. You could tell he felt embarrassed now after Eddie said what he said to him.

You felt kind of bad for him. But Eddie was always harder on the men who called in than the women. He'd always tell you most of the time the women needed reassurance, and the guys were just selfish assholes in bed. He wasn't a dick to all of them who called for help just the ones who deserved it. The guy that just called in got it the worst from Eddie.

He had been practically sweating bullets all day long about this interview. Some of the callers were getting his smart ass remarks the most because of it. Eddie wasn't like that with you. All day, he tried to have you in some way.

"Come on, baby. They'll never hear you whimperin' my name with Megadeth playing. Jus' let me taste you." He whined and begged.

You immediately shook your head. "You stay back Munson."

Eddie pouted, pushing his bottom lip out. He got on his hands and knees crawling over to you. You couldn't help but smile and try to back away from him in your chair.

"Ah ah baby, get back here. All I wanna do is make my cute girl cum on my tongue. That's all." Eddie tried to make it sound so innocent as he grabbed at your ankle to pull you back.

He's grinning from ear to ear. "You like keepin' your man starvin?"

"I swear to God, Eddie." You giggled and squirmed. His hand had such a tight grip on your leg.

"I've fucked you on that desk so many times. Let me lick your pussy for a little while. It'll help with my jangled nerves." He made his voice low and seductive. Just the way you like it. He knew how to send a shiver up your spine. "What if I laid back on the floor, and you got to ride my face?"

"Eddie, I'm warning you." You tried to sound serious, but your smile gave it away. You liked it when he talked to you like this.

Eddie crawled his way up to you while you sat in your rolling chair, throwing your legs over his shoulders. Your skirt drapping over his head. You could hear him hum to himself and with one finger pushed your panties to the side. His tongue darting out to lick a long strip up your wet folds.

You gripped at the arm rests "maybe just for a little while."

"Thank you, baby." His voice muffled under your skirt. He kept your panties pushed to the side while his tongue flicked over your aching clit.

"Goddamn sweetheart you're always so fucking wet for me" Eddie practically groaned at the sight before him.

You tried so hard, not to moan. Which only spurred Eddie on more. The thought of his co-workers and boss hearing you both outside that door turned him on so much. Having you screaming his name while his face was buried between your thighs. He could cum in pants just imagining it. He has before when all alone in that tiny studio. With nothing to occupy himself but his dirty thoughts of you.

Eddie gave your clit a quick kiss before wrapped his plump lips around it sucking softly. You gasped before one of your hands flew to tug and pull at his hair."

"Mmmm--Eddie!." You covered your own mouth to quiet a moan. He sucked even harder when he noticed you were trying to be quiet. Your eyes flutter closed. You tried to put one of your feet to the floor and get away from him.

"Where ya goin' baby?" He lifted his head from out under your skirt and yanks you roughly back to his mouth. He lapped at your wet folds before going back to your clit.

You tried to push his head away only to end up pulling him closer. Your thighs shake as they hang over his broad shoulders.

"Eddie, don't stop." You mewled. You kept your voice as low as possible. You could feel him smiling against you. You know he enjoys seeing the effect he has on you.

Just as he really got into it, there was a loud bang at the door. Eddie lifted his head out from under your skirt once again. He looked to you and then back to the door, waiting for another knock. Two more loud bangs rattled the hinges and he was quick on his feet.

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath while answering. Eddie swung open the door to come face to face with his boss.

"We have Tommy Lee on in five for that interview. Stop fucking around in here." His boss scolded him and you.

"Yea yea no one cares, but alright." He slammed the door back closed. He was frustrated that he had to stop what he was in the middle of doing. "We'll finish after this, I promise."

You nodded and fixed yourself back up, trying to regain composure. "Don't worry about it."

Eddie shot you look but couldn't say anything as he put his headphones on and got close to his mic again.

"Welcome back. Everyone, hope you enjoyed that little break, but now we're about to talk with Tommy Lee." He greeted his listeners back after a few songs.

You handed Eddie his notes for the interview. He really didn't want to talk to him but knew his boss would kick his ass if he didn't. You snorted when he looked annoyed. His face still glistening from your slick. You picked up a napkin and went to clean off his face. He quickly grabbed at your wrist, mouthing "no," so you mouthed "fine" right back. Which earned you a small laugh from him before he playfully swatted your ass making you yelp.

You let him get situated as a little idea popped in your head. Since he loves to tease and torment you all the time. Since he just can't seem to keep those hands off of you. Maybe you'll show him a little "appreciation."

"Hey Tommy, so uhh tell us what's it like with the new lead singer you guys got now?" Eddie looked over his questions he was allowed to ask. They were the same dull, bland questions every interviewer did.

You could tell he was bored out of his mind. He did not want to do this at all. You were going to wait until for a song break or even after his show went off air. But the looks of pure agony on his face made you pity him in this moment.

Eddie was currently leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on the table, struggling to untangle his yoyo. The notes resting on his lap, as he asked them in a monotone voice.

"Yeah, it's going good so far, different sound, but I think our fans are digging him so far." Tommy sighed into his phone. You could also tell he didn't want to do the interview with Eddie.

You walk over, tapping his feet. He immediately drops them to the floor on command. You pick up his interview notes, placing them nicely on the table. He thinks you're trying to keep him looking professional, but you had other plans.

You smiled and moved behind him to whisper in his ear. "Will you let me suck your cock?"

His eyes buldge out of his skull. "NOW?"

He practically yelled into the mic while Tommy was discussing Motley's new album.

You nodded and went back in front of him to get on your knees between his legs. His hand moved to your face, and his thumb smoothed across your bottom lip. You took it in your mouth sucking it gently. Earning you a low whimper from him.

"Oh my bad, sorry." Eddie spoke, clearing his throat. He snatched his thumb from your mouth. "You were saying?"

Your hands start rubbing his thighs up and down. You could tell he was trying so hard to hold it together. He pinched the bridge of his nose, getting frustrated with himself and you.

"I've been a good girl. Can I pretty please have your cock in my throat?" You whisper.

You forward to kiss his prominent buldge straining in his jeans. He dropped his head down, and his headphones slipped off and landed on his desk. Eddie fumbled around to put them back on. He prayed no one heard any of that.

Eddie's expression was something of shock and lust. He's not used to you being this forward. Normally, he had to work you up to get you like this. You're getting brave, and he couldn't be happier.

You slowly unzipped his pants. Your eyes never left his, and his eyes never left yours. It was like he was in some sort of trance watching you. He wasn't even paying attention to the interview anymore. Everything Tommy was saying fell on deaf ears. His focus was solely on you. You glance over at the mic, signaling him he needed to focus.

"Baby, please." He pleaded covering up the mic so no one can hear. You freed his painfully hard cock out of his pants. He let out a sigh of brief relief. His pants were getting increasingly uncomfortable the harder he became.

Licking your lips, you take him in your hand and kiss his leaking tip as you begin sucking it. Your tongue swirling around the head, cleaning off every bit of his precum. He rolled his head to the side. Eddie's struggling to remain calm and collected for this interview. His boss will kill him if he fucks this up.

You stopped and pulled your mouth away slightly to spit right on his cock. Using your spit and the little bit of his precum as lubricant. You gave him a few good strokes twisting your wrists pumping cock. He gulps as he watches you. Beads of sweat coated his forehead making his bangs stick to his skin. His hands were gripping hard onto the table. His knuckles turning white. His rings scratch at the surface.

"I can't wait to have you inside me." You teased. Your voice low enough under the table for only him to hear. "Thinkin' about you struggling to fit it all in at once."

You take his cock in your mouth slowly until he hit the back of your throat. You stayed still for a moment, allowing yourself to breathe through your nose.

He lets out a shakey breath and covers up the mic once more. "I'm gonna make you feel every inch. You just wait until I get your ass home."

You smiled around his cock at his threat. Can't be much of a threat if you'd enjoy every second of it.

"So Tommy!" Eddie piped up with too much enthusiasm even for him.

You began bobbing your head up and down, taking him as deep in your mouth as he could go. You moaned when one of his hands rested on the back of your head. Drool was spilling from the corners of your mouth and down your chin. The head of his cock hitting so far at the back of your throat.

"I-I HEARD--" He stuttered after you swallowed around him. "I heard you guys are planning a tour."

Eddie was quick to fix himself. This whole interview, he had been battling to stay on task. His abs flexed when you reached to push up his t-shirt. He's biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Your mouth working on him lazily giving the messiest blow job you could. Your spit dripping down from your chin onto the tuft of soft curls peeking out from under his pants. Your nose nestled into the them, taking in his musky scent.

"Uh huh yeah, a tour within the next year or so." You could hear Tommy's distorted voice over the speakers.

"Ohmyfuckinggod...." Eddie grunted through gritted teeth. His jaw clenching.

Your mouth sucking on his cock harder. Your head moving up and down faster. One of your other hands creeped higher under his shirt to pinch his nipples. His face is beet red. All he wants to do is shut off his mic and moan out your name. The fact that he can't properly give you any praise is driving him insane.

Eddie shakes his head, taking a long, deep breath. The interview is almost over. Couple more questions, and he can let go.

"I--I mean, very exciting to hear that as well. He laughed slightly. Not at what Tommy says, but at the disbelief of what you're doing to him right now.

Usually, it's the other way around. Nine times out of ten Eddie is the one with his cock buried in you while hes live on his show. You've gotten so bold and brave over this last year of dating. He wasn't complaining.

Eddie's just so used to the shy girl he first met. But then again, you did call him and have your first orgasm on his radio show with hundreds of people listening in. That boldness was always there.

You pinched his nipple harder and ran your fingernails down his abdomen, leaving a tiny red trails behind. He bucked his hips roughly pushing his cock further in your throat. Nearly causing the back of your head to hit the table. His cock throbbing and pulsating in your mouth.

You pulled him almost all the way out. Your lips wrapped perfectly around his sensitive tip, still sucking firmly on it. Taking your other hand you stroke his cock giving you're throat a break for a couple of minutes. His strangled moans are enough to make you want to keep going.

Your lips leave his tip for you to whisper up at him. "You wanna fuck me so bad right now. It's driving you crazy that you cant."

"Oooh my god, you're gonna get it--fking hell, you're gonna get it." He growled lowly, covering his mic with a shakey hand.

The corners of your mouth quirked up when your hand starts pumping his cock faster. A line of spit connecting from your lips and to his head. Your mouth and chin covered in drool. It was a sight to see, and he was mesmerized by it. He hastily snaps out of it and readjusts his headphones.

Eddie cackles into the mic and runs a hand down his face. "Tommy, tell me about your love life really quick...saw that hot blonde on your arm recently."

"She's good. we're thinking about getting married." Tommy announced to Eddie and the show.

Eddie looks down at you and pats your head. "I saw her in that music video last year. I can see why you'd want to marry her."

"She's uhhh somethin" else." He whistled, fixing his collar as if he was getting hot thinking about her.

He stops patting your head to cup your jaw gently.

You stop stroking his cock taking your hand away. You slip him back in your mouth, relaxing your throat, taking him in inch by inch again. You swallowed hard around him purposely. His body twitching from the sensation. Your mouth felt amazing and so warm.

"Ahh...uhhmm--well, that's good." He blurted out. Eddie felt like he was going to burst at any moment. Your throat closed around him each time you took him further down. "Hey man, listen, we gotta cut to a small intermission."

"No no it's cool." Tommy laughed in the phone.

"On our small intermission how about we play somethin' this next song is called "a letter to Elise by the cure"

You continued to bob your head as if you weren't preoccupied with what he said. That tinge of jealousy coursing through your veins. Your face was growing hot, replaying what he said about that girl.

The lustful look in his eyes when talked about the music video she was in. It pissed you off but also made you incredibly sad, too. You try to keep those feelings at bay and pay no mind to them. Eddie pushed his chair away from the table to give you more room. You move around on your knees following him.

"Fuck baby, you're doing so good." He purred, relaxing back.

His hips bucking up thrusting his cock in your mouth. He repeated his movements over and over. His cock going down your throat feverishly with little to no warnings. Eddie wasn't rough, but he wasn't gentle about it either. He was tired of all the teasing. Tears springing to your eyes each time his cock slides down your throat harder. You could tell he was getting close. You could sense it.

"Love you, s'much sweet girl." Eddie brought his hand out to caress and wipe your tears. He smiled warmly down at you. You were still feeling jealous by his comment towards Tommy's girlfriend.

Eddie groaned, rolling his head from side to side. His mouth hanging open. "Shiiiiiiit I'm gonna cum."

"You're gonna be my good girl and swallow it?....maybe if you're lucky ill cum on your tits later. He chuckled a cocky smile appearing on his face.

You look up at him through your lashes and whined. His hand on your hair, and he roughly pushes you down on him and pulls you back up. Your mouth making the sloppiest wet sounds while fucked your throat. You had to stop. Your emotions were beginning to be too much.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you released him from your mouth with a loud wet pop. You slapped his hands away from your head. You coughed and gasped, trying to catch your breath. You weren't going to let him cum. Not after what he said about some other girl he clearly liked a lot.

You stomped over to your chair and sat down, crossing your arms over your chest. Eddies mouth drops open in shock, too stunned to speak. His cock laying flat against his belly coated with your spit just begging for your attention.

"Baby, why'd you stop?" He rasped. His face full of concern at your sudden attitude. He doesn't know what he did or said to make you upset. Where you upset at how rough he was being with you? You normally liked it when he used your throat like that.

That hint of jealousy is getting stronger, and you can't help but not ignore it any longer.

"Nothing," you scowled, not daring to look over at him.

His chest rose and fell fast. He's panting and trying to catch his breath. He was so close cumming until you removed him completely from your throat.

"Something is obviously wrong. Talk to me." He spoke tenderly. He didn't care about finishing at the moment. All he cared about was you and fixing whatever it was that upset you.

"Why don't you ask his girlfriend to help you cum." You sneered still looking ahead.

"Is that what this is about?" Eddie grinned but quickly got rid of it. He knew better than to let you see him smiling. He wasn't laughing at you. He just thought it was kind of cute how you are obviously jealous over that.

"Sweetheart, come here."

You gave him a side eye and saw he was motioning you over to him. You rolled your eyes and got up to sit down in his lap.

His hands instinctively go to hold your waist. His chin resting on your shoulder with those big brown eyes of his looking up at you. You resisted the urge to look at him.

"Now you know because I said that doesn't mean I want her. You're my whole world baby." Eddie kissed your neck, trying his best to reassure you.

"You didn't have to say it while I was busy doing.....that to you." You finally looked back at him, and that's when he saw the hurt in your eyes.

he knows where he screwed up, but he was just doing his job. He truly didn't mean it. He has to flatter the guests. Inflate their already too big of an ego. Give them a bigger head than what they already had.

"Sweetheart, that was inappropriate, but you have to remember this is just part of my job. I have to say these things, it's just my radio persona." Eddie explained in a calm manner. He didn't want you being hurt by anything he said.

You know this is part of his job, but for some reason, that really did hurt you and filled you with so much jealousy. You know that type of stuff comes with the territory of what he does for a living. You used to listen to his show all the time before you got together.

You should be used to it by now. For the most part, you are. You chalked up your problem with him saying that to that stupid face he made when thinking about her as his cock was in your mouth. It made you feel like he was picturing her doing that to him and not you.

You look down picking at your nails. "I know. I don't know why it bothered me it just did....I guess I thought you were thinking of her while I was doing that to you."

He shakes head but lets you finish before speaking. "You're the only one I want and need. You're the only girl I've ever been with that makes my heart skip a beat every time you look at me. You're the only person I think about day and night. Always. You're my first thought in the morning and my last thought before bed."

Eddie hooks a finger under your chin to make you look at him again. You fight back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.

"You really mean all of that?" You sniffle leaning back against his chest.

He held you tighter to him. "I've never lied to you once, and I don't plan on starting now."

You smiled, playing with the ends of his long curly hair. "Did--You want me to help you finish?"

"I'll be okay. All I want to do is hold you. Can I do that?" He turns his head to kiss your forehead and rubs your back soothingly.

"Yeah, you can hold me." You got yourself more comfortable in his lap. If he wanted to coddle you, then you'll let him and milk it for all its worth.

Eddie's hold was strong, almost like he was afraid if he let go, you'd dissappear. He doesn't like seeing you this way. You're beautiful and have no reason to ever question his loyalty to you. Especially over dumb questions, his boss hounds him to ask.

"The interview will be over before you know it, then I'm all yours." He exhaled, resting his head on top of yours. You felt horrible for what you did earlier. The guilt finally settled in.

He shifts in his seat. "Don't worry, I'm gonna have you begging for me in the back of my van after this. I don't think I can wait to get you home."

You knew he wasn't exaggerating either. He's been craving you all day long, and he's not going to pass up on any opportunity to have you. He's also feels bad about hurting you and wants to worship every part of your body.

Eddie needs you to understand just how much he loves you. He's always been better at showing you than telling you. His love language has always been touch and music. So you'll be getting all of that and more tonight.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson smut #90s!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x f!reader

968 notes · View notes

itsbeeble · 5 months

Text

SEEING STARS

SUMMARY: It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of schoolwork for you.

GENRE: smut, fluff, mild angst, crack

PAIRING: Kim Sunwoo x afab!reader (ft. Hoshi, Dino, Sangyeon, Kevin, Eric, Yuta, and Jay (Enhypen))

WC: 9.4k (you'd think i was doing this on purpose)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: mentions of injuries (concussions, Sunwoo gets sucker punched), Eric slander, Sunwoo slander, Hoshi stirring up trouble, Sunwoo being stupid, car sex/public sex, p in v sex, fingering, mentions of face fucking, marking, hair pulling, attempts at dirty talk kinda? idk if you can even call it that but wtv, i think that's really it

A/N: Part 3 of the collab is out! If you haven't checked out Try Hard or Excitement (written by my beloved Fawn) please do! Otherwise, please enjoy this. Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

In Sunwoo’s defense, everything that happened was Eric’s fault. It was definitely not Sunwoo’s fault that he believed his best friend when he told him that he should absolutely kick a ball at the girl of his dreams so she could bring it back to him and she would fall for him too and then they could live happily ever after. It also wasn’t Sunwoo’s fault that he forgot that he was their university’s star soccer player and that he had really strong legs.

At least, this is what he tells himself while sitting in the ambulance with you, who is currently passed out with a lump the size of a clementine on your forehead. He’s nervously gnawing at his fingernails, chewing them to nubs with his eyebrows furrowed. The EMTs said that you’re stable, that you just have a mild concussion but they want to take you in and get you checked out to be sure.

“Are you her…friend? Boyfriend?” One of the EMTs looks at Sunwoo with a curious look in his eye.

“Friend, just a friend,” he says, but there’s a dark cloud hovering above his head that anyone could see if they tried hard enough.

“Is there anyone that we can call? Anyone else that we should inform?” Sunwoo shrugs.

“Not that I know of. Her family is across the country so they wouldn’t be any help right now, right?”

“Right,” the EMT agrees. “I suppose you’ll be helping her out the next couple of weeks, making sure no one else is hitting her in the head with soccer balls?” Sunwoo grimaces and nods.

You’re never gonna like me at this rate, he thinks to himself. God, why did he ever listen to Eric in the first place? What made him think that Eric, the man who spends 90% of his time completely bitchless and watching hentai, would give him good advice about women?

Now he’s gonna have to deal with student loan debt, lawyer debt, and being single for the rest of his life.

The first thing you see when you wake up is white. Not, like, a white ceiling. No, your vision is pure white for a few moments, and then you swear that you’re seeing stars. You can faintly, over the pounding of your head, hear someone speaking. The voice is familiar, but you can’t quite place it over the ringing in your ears.

“…Eric, I swear to fucking god if I ever see you again, I will shove my foot so far up your ass— I don’t care if you thought it would be a good idea! I concussed the richest girl in school, the girl of my dreams mind you, because you thought it would be a fantastic idea to kick a ball at her!”

You blink a few times, clearing your vision, and you can see a boy to the right of you. He’s wearing a soccer uniform, the same uniform your university’s team wears. You blink again, and now he’s facing you with a nervous smile plastered onto his face.

“Hi,” he breathes out and you smile at him.

“Hi…Woo…sung?” You wince at the poor attempt. Of course, you know who he is. Anyone would recognize the star soccer player. Maybe you weren’t positive about what his name was, but you knew him.

He laughs, but it’s a humorless one that has both of you cringing after.

“Close,” he tells you with a smile. “Sunwoo.”

“Right,” you nod, but the action causes a painful throb to run through your skull. “Fuck, why does my head hurt so much?”

Sunwoo laughs again, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and avoiding your gaze.

“About that…” his hand combs through his hair, pushing it out of his face despite it not being there in the first place. “I…may or may not have kicked a ball in your general direction, which may or may not have proceeded to hit you in the head and give you a concussion.”

You kiss your teeth, eyebrows knitting together as you look at him. He begins to ramble, talking about how it’s his friend’s fault, and he really never meant for it to hit you. It’s cute, really, the way he practically falls to his knees and begs you to not sue him.

“Sunwoo,” you try to interrupt, but it’s like he doesn’t hear you. He’s speaking too fast, too frantic, and you’re pretty sure he’ll faint if he doesn’t pause for air soon.

“I— I will do anything you want, I swear! I’ll— I’ll carry your stuff around campus for you. I’ll take all your notes so you don’t have to look at the screens. Fuck— I swear, I—”

“Sunwoo,” You reach your arm forward, wrapping your fingers around his forearm and his pacing jerks to a stop, his words caught on the tip of his tongue when you lock eyes. “I’m not gonna sue you.”

“You’re—” his voice cracks, “you’re not?”

“No,” you laugh and wince when your head begins to throb again. “Although, I wouldn’t mind if you helped me out with my schoolwork.”

“I…” he trails off, his heart sinking to his stomach. “Yeah, yeah of course I’ll help you. But— but you really aren’t going to sue me? Because— because I wouldn’t mind if you were that mad at me but I think I would really rather you just have me arrested at that point, you know?”

“I promise, Sunwoo.” You squeeze his forearm, and his cheeks begin to darken with a tinge of pink. “I’m not gonna sue you.”

As it turns out, having the star soccer player around to do anything and everything you want him to is rather convenient. Sunwoo picks you up every day for your first class in his old, beat-up Toyota Corolla. He opens the door for you, hands you a fresh go-cup of your favorite coffee from your favorite cafe (which you aren’t sure how he knows, to be honest), and brings you to each and every one of your classes. It’s almost weird how you’ve gotten used to having him around.

“By the way,” you look up at Sunwoo as you’re getting into his car after your last class of the day. Sunwoo looks down at you, smiling brightly and you can feel yourself starting to melt at the puppy-like look in his eye. “Are you even taking classes this semester?”

Sunwoo tilts his head. “I mean…yeah? I kinda have to, you know, to play soccer.”

“But…you’re always with me these days. Are you not missing your own assignments? Your own exams?”

“I don’t have any exams during your classes,” he informs you and then shuts the passenger-side door, gently to not hurt your head. You let your body rest against the tattered fabric seat you’re in, waiting for Sunwoo to get to his side of the car. “Plus, I have friends in my classes that send me shit when I’m not there.”

“You skip your classes often?” Your lips curl into a sly smile, one that he returns quickly.

“You know it, babe.”

Your body tenses just slightly, not enough for him to notice. It was likely instinctive for him to say that, and you would never admit to anyone how the words had butterflies forming in your stomach, pushing against your flesh, and threatening to tumble out of you if he made one wrong move.

Sunwoo slams the door of the frat shut and presses his back against it as soon as he enters the building. His eyes are squeezed shut, so tightly that he can see stars and it starts to hurt.

“You alright?” Eric is sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees with a Nintendo controller in his hands. He isn’t looking at Sunwoo, his eyes trained on the fourth Five Nights At Freddy’s game being displayed on the TV in front of him.

“I don’t even want to talk about it.” Sunwoo dismisses, dropping his bag on the floor and tossing his keys into the bowl to his right. “Especially not with you.”

“The fuck did I do?” Eric’s eyebrows knit together, and Sunwoo scoffs as he walks behind the couch to get to the kitchen.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you were part of the reason that Y/N L/N is now concussed and probably hates my guts so I’m trying to fix it by helping her out with all of her school work, which is hard as shit, by the way. Did you know that she’s a mechanical engineering major?”

“No shit?” Eric’s eyes flick away from the TV screen for just long enough for him to nearly miss an animatronic approaching him. “I wonder if she’s in any of my classes.”

“Probably not,” Sunwoo sighs, grabbing a glass from the shelf and pouring himself some water. ��She’s in Sangyeon’s year so her classes are a bit more advanced than yours.”

“Ah,” Eric bobs his head, tongue wedged between his otherwise tightly sealed lips. Sunwoo watches him play for a moment, wincing at a few jumpscares while he downs his water. “What’s that gotta do with me, anyway? Isn’t this, like, bonding time for you two? Finally land your girl?”

“Well, would’ve been perfect if, a) she hadn’t hated me and b) I didn’t call her babe in the car today.”

Silence from Eric, and Sunwoo briefly wonders if his best friend had even heard him.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” Eric pauses the game and tosses his controller onto the couch next to him as he turns around.

“It was an accident!” Sunwoo defends. “It just kinda…slipped out while I was talking to her. A reflex!”

“You called the girl you concussed babe on reflex?” Eric exclaims in disbelief. “Are you stupid?”

“Says the one who suggested kicking the ball at her!”

“Yeah, well at least I didn’t give the girl of my dreams a concussion!”

“It was your fault!” Sunwoo yells, and Eric scoffs.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you feel better.”

“He called me babe, Soonyoung,” you’re laying face down on your friend’s bed, kicking your feet in the air behind you with his tiger plushie tucked under your arms.

“Mhm,” he’s not paying attention, instead focusing on the tiger Lego set that you had given him for his birthday. “Very nice.”

“Ugh, and he’s so sweet too.” You continue to ramble, grinning like a mad woman when you recall the notes he had diligently taken for you despite not knowing a damn thing about Applied Measurements. “Did I tell you about the notes he took for me the other day? The ones that he—”

“—Color-coded and annotated for you?” Soonyoung interrupts, finally slamming down the little pieces of plastic in his hand. You flinch at the noise. “Left little notes about things he found interesting or didn’t quite understand but tried to explain anyway? Yeah, you told me.”

You duck your head, trying to ignore the throbbing. It had mostly gone away, but occasionally loud noises would spike pain through your skull.

“Sorry…” you mumble, letting your legs fall flat on the mattress. Soonyoung turns to face you, pursing his lips.

“Y/N, if you like this kid so much then why not ask him out?”

“It’s not like that!” You protest, but a sharp look from your best friend makes you backtrack. “At least, not for him. He’s just doing this because he feels bad for me! And besides, I’m a few years older than him, so wouldn’t it be weird?”

“How is that weird?” Soonyoung inquires, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “He’s of age, isn’t he?”

“Of age,” you scoff and make air quotes. “What is this, the 1600s?”

Soonyoung glares at you and sits back in his chair. “I don’t care if you’re concussed, I’ll make that lump in your skull bigger if you push me.”

At his warning, you huff.

“Okay, fine, yes, he is. But it’s weird for me! I’m a senior in college, about to enter the work force if I can get my senior project proposal done, and he’s just a sophomore! He’s the university’s star soccer player, he’s just starting to get ahead. I don’t want to, like, stunt that for him.”

“Y/N,” Soonyoung rolls his chair toward you with a sympathetic smile on his face. “I can almost guarantee that Sunwoo will not care if you’re a few years older than him. I don’t think he’ll care if he’s just starting college. If I’m being honest, he finds that all the more reason to be attracted to you. Young men love older women— but you aren’t old!” He quickly backtracks before you can cut him off. “You’re not old, and believe me when I tell you that not a single person in the world would be doing this for someone that they weren’t attracted to.”

“Are you sure?” You sit up, wrapping your whole body around the tiger plushie, and Soonyoung nods.

“I promise.”

“Then…how do I get him to know that I…that I’m also attracted to him?”

Soonyoung grins and you feel your heart drop.

“Boy, do I have some ideas for you.”

Sunwoo is getting worried. The last four days have been ridiculously quiet for him, his days empty and dragging on without you around him.

You were avoiding him, he could tell. Whenever he showed up to pick you up from your dorm, someone else was already there. A man, your age and clearly friends with you if the wide smile on your face said anything. You would lock eyes with him, your smile falling when you saw the confusion and hurt in his eyes. You would turn your gaze away and the man would get your door for you, laughing about something you said.

Then there was the avoidance of his texts. He would ask if everything was okay, how your head was doing, random jokes or comments about things he saw on campus. Things that he would tell you had you been with him during the day. It wasn’t like it was unusual for the two of you to text now. In fact, it was weird when you weren’t messaging each other about something but now…

It’s like you’re trying to block out his existence.

“I’m telling you,” Kevin hands Sunwoo a case of beer, cutting into the younger man’s frantic rambling. “She’s probably just busy, dude.”

“Then why wouldn’t she tell me?” Sunwoo pouts, carrying the case into the house. Kevin follows with a case of his own.

“Hell if I now,” he scoffs. “You think I have time to psychoanalyze everything rich girls do?”

“I mean…isn’t that your whole thing?” Sangyeon chimes in. “Psychoanalyzing everything about everyone?”

“That’s not the point,” Kevin waves his hand in the air and huffs. “I’m busy enough with my own classes and practices, I can only do so many things at once.”

“Sunwoo,” Sangyeon turns to the soccer player with a stern look in his eye. “This is gonna be one of our biggest parties yet, I need you on top of your game to make sure people are enjoying themselves.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Kim Sunwoo,” Sangyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulders with an exasperated look on his face. “If I hear you ranting about the girl you concussed one more time I might just lose it. I’m putting you on door duty for the night.”

“What the fuck do you mean door duty?”

Sangyeon scans the room for a moment before his eyes land on a metal detector stick that Hyunjae had bought as a part of his last Halloween costume.

“Here,” He tosses it to Sunwoo and smiles sarcastically. “Use this, make sure people aren’t bringing weapons in or whatever.”

Sunwoo looks down at the metal detector in his hands, eyebrows knitting together.

“You’re serious?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Are you sure that your plan worked?” You’re peering up at Soonyoung with a nervous look in your eye when you roll up to the TBZ party. “You’re sure he’s—”

“I’m positive, my dear.” Your best friend pats the top of your head, squinting at the frat house down the road. “I didn’t think this many people were gonna be here tonight.”

“Sunwoo mentioned that it was gonna be a big one,” you murmur. Soonyoung turns his gaze to you and sighs at the pout on your lips. You look pitiful, to be honest. At least in attitude, that is.

“Y/N,” you look at him again, “if Sunwoo doesn’t fall head over heels at this party and fuck you until you literally cannot walk then I give you full permission to give me a concussion, just like he did to you. Look at you! You look absolutely stunning!”

You find yourself smiling at Soonyoung’s words. He’s not wrong, you do look stunning. A loose, short black dress that dips down at your chest to reveal just enough cleavage. The straps are jeweled, glittering under the lights and highlighting the jewelry around your neck. The dress itself stops just low enough that it covers everything but shows enough to tease, and you’re wearing sleek black pumps with an ankle strap so your feet don’t fly out of them (you’d made that mistake before. Never again…).

“Now,” He claps his hands together and grins. “Let’s go get you your man, and get me a drink.”

In hindsight, you probably should have known that the party would not have been good for your head. Loud noises had never particularly been something you enjoyed. A lot of people assumed you loved parties due to your financial status, but that wasn’t true. In fact, you were a bit of a recluse. You had only a few friends, though you were nice to nearly everyone you met. Sunwoo happened to be an exception.

He wiggled his way into your life with that soccer ball, and you truly don’t think you can see a future without him in it, even if he just stays a friend.

The second you walk up the driveway, your head begins to pound, your vision flashing with stars, and you squeeze Soonyoung’s arm tightly to keep yourself from wobbling on your feet.

Then you see Sunwoo at the door, a large bucket to his right, and a hand-held metal detector in his hand. You can see him scanning people, waving girls in, and then stopping men and pointing at the bucket. You feel a lump forming in his throat when you take in the sight of him. His hair is a mess of curls, the same curls you’d come to love since he gave you a concussion. He’s dressed in a tight-fitting black tee shirt and baggy jeans, nothing fancy but it brings the butterflies back to your stomach in full force.

“What the hell are you talking about?” The man in front of you scoffs at something Sunwoo said, and you blink yourself back to reality.

“$5 at the door,” Sunwoo shrugs, “sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

“It’s your frat!” The man yells. Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow.

“Yeah…do I look like the president or something?” The man stays silent and Sunwoo sighs. “Look, I don’t have the time to deal with you. Are you in or not? There’s a line of people behind you, and all of them wanna get in so you should probably pick fast.”

The student huffs, digging into his pocket for a dirty $5 bill, tossing it into the bucket, and shoving past Sunwoo. The soccer player just rolls his eyes and sighs again.

“Who’s up next—” he chokes on his words when he sees you, his eyes widening and his jaw-dropping. You smile nervously, raising your hand in a tiny wave while Soonyoung throws a few ones into the bucket.

“I’ll see you in there,” your friend says to you. “Text me if you need me.” Soonyoung squeezes your hand and nods at Sunwoo before walking into the house. You step to the side, letting people move past you but keeping a little bit of distance between you and the frat boy who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you yet.

“You’re here,” Sunwoo says, not even looking at the continuous line of people walking into the house without paying. “You’re— why are you here?”

A sheepish smile crawls onto your face. “Do you…not want me here?” Sunwoo panics, shaking his head rapidly and grabbing your hand in his.

“That’s not— that’s not what I meant.” He tells you, and you can’t help the warmth in your cheeks. “I just— your head. This can’t be good for your concussion, can it?”

You kiss your teeth, nodding slowly. “Yeah…Kinda got a little bit of a migraine right now.” You don’t tell him that the concussion has completely healed.

“Let’s— let’s get you someplace quieter, ba— Y/N.” He tugs at your hand, pushing you in front of him and covering your ears with your hand. He leans in close to you, his lips brushing the shell of one ear and you feel your breathing hitch in your throat.

“Cover your eyes a bit and look down, I can’t block your vision but I can shield your ears a bit, babe.” He lets it slip out this time, and you do as he says.

Sunwoo walks you forward, and you can see feet shuffling around the two of you. His hands do more than you expected, the sounds around you fairly muffled and dulling the throb in your skull. His body is so close to yours, his legs bumping into you with every step, but he keeps the two of you steady. Someone knocks into you, and Sunwoo says something to them, something harsh that you can’t make out over the noise of the party. He stops walking for a brief moment, now talking to someone else. You faintly hear a name, Chang-something, and then he’s fleeing the scene, knocking into you on his way out.

Sunwoo steps to your side when you reach a staircase, talking into your ear so you know exactly where each step is. Another person bumps into you, and Sunwoo takes a hand off your ear to wrap it around your waist.

“You can drop your hand,” he tells you. “The lights aren’t flashing over here.” You nod, and you feel his hand drop at the same time yours does. You’re still walking up the stairs and even though you don’t need help anymore, his hand stays on your waist, the touch sending electric shocks throughout your body.

Sunwoo feels like he’s going to throw up.

Scratch that. Sunwoo is going to throw up.

He really hadn’t expected to see you here. In fact, he hadn’t expected to see you at all for the rest of his college days. Had you finally decided to sue him? Are you serving him? He hadn’t seen any documents with you, but maybe—

“I’m not suing you, Sunwoo,” you sit on his bed with one leg crossed over the other. Your dress rides up your thighs, something Sunwoo tries desperately to ignore but he just can’t. “You can relax.”

You can relax, he repeats the words in his head over and over and over again, but he can’t. In fact, his body just grows more tense with the time that passes. Sunwoo tries to look at you, and then he tries not to look at you. There’s a heat in your gaze, and he can’t tell what the emotion behind it is. He hopes it’s not anger, he prays that you haven’t gotten angry with him.

“Are you—” he clears his throat. “Who was the guy you were with?” You tilt your head and he clarifies his question. “I just— I’ve seen him with you a lot these days so I was just— I just thought—”

“Who, Soonyoung? He’s not my boyfriend,” you tell him and laugh when he visibly deflates with relief.

“Good. I— I mean that’s— I just—” his face feels like it’s on fire, his stomach churning when you continue to laugh at him. When you wince and bring your hand up, he practically trips over himself to find an unopened bottle of water for you.

“How’s your head?” Sunwoo asks you, quietly now. You shrug and slide over so he can sit next to you on the edge of his bed.

“Concussion is better, just can’t do loud noises.” Sunwoo nods and you continue. “At the last check-up, my doctor said that I might get some headaches here and there though, at least for a little while.”

“Then why are you here? At a party?”

“I…guess I just wanted to see you?” You had this all planned out with Soonyoung. Why are you so nervous?

Sunwoo’s eyebrows knit together. “Why would you want to see me?”

“You’re joking, right?” You can’t help the scoff that leaves your lips, regretting letting it out when Sunwoo flinches and looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just…there’s no way that you don’t know by now.”

“Know what?” He presses, hoping that you’re saying what he’s been dreaming of you saying since he saw you on his first day at this university. You’re so close to him now, mere inches from him, and he fights every instinct inside of him that says to close that distance. He wants to hear everything you have to say.

You open your mouth to speak again, and there’s a knock on the door. Both of your heads whip around as it swings open, and Sunwoo’s heart sinks when he sees Soonyoung, the man you had entered the building with. He almost looked distraught that he’d entered the room.

“Hi, so sorry to interrupt. Um…” he looks at you with a grimace. “We gotta go.”

“What?” Your eyebrows furrow. “Why? I was talking with Sunwoo—”

“Yeah, sorry again, but we gotta go.” Sunwoo watches you get up, albeit reluctantly, and you turn to him.

“I’ll…we’ll talk later, okay?” You smile at Sunwoo, but you turn away before he can say anything to you.

“Promise?” He calls out, but the door is already shutting behind you.

You really did intend on texting Sunwoo after, to continue your conversation, but ‘after’ turns into two days, and then four, and then it’s been a week, and suddenly it’s almost finals. You know that Sunwoo’s game is today. The last game of the season. He’d raved about it a few times while studying with you. You knew how excited for it he was, knew how hard he was practicing to make sure he was in his best shape.

“What do you mean he’s about to be taken off the field?” You snap into your phone, scanning the lot around you for somewhere to park. It’s dark out, the lights in the lot hardly working so it makes it difficult to see any free spots. “Fuck, why is it always so fucking busy at these games?”

“He’s missed every shot— DAMN YOU DECELIS. YUTA GET THAT DAMN BALL—” You pull the phone away from your ear when Soonyoung starts to yell, hearing the crowd in the stadium erupt into cheers. “Another point to Decelis Uni. Anyway, no he’s been like…really off in his games, the only reason he isn’t off already is because of Lee Chan.”

“Thank god for him,” you sigh as you put your car into park. “Listen, I just parked, so just give me five minutes to get in there. Maybe he needs a good luck charm or something. Fuck it’s cold out here. Why did I wear a skirt to this damn game?”

“Did you just call yourself his good luck charm?”

“No, I just—” you huff.

“No, you’re right. I think you are because when you guys were talking, he’d been playing better than ever. Things went to shit after my plan.”

“Yeah, thanks for that by the way.”

“Any time, best friend. Get here soon. Maybe there will be a time out and you can kiss him or something.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You shove your phone into your pocket, running toward the stadium as the crowd erupts into cheers again.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Lee Chan grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder when half-time is called. Both boys are dripping with sweat, exhausted from the game. There had been so much back and forth between the two teams, keeping them tied almost constantly for the past 45 minutes. “You’ve been playing like shit for three games in a row, Kim Sunwoo. This isn’t like you. I’m not afraid to get Coach to bench you if you don’t get your shit together.”

Sunwoo huffs, grabbing his water bottle from the bench and ignoring his teammate so he can hydrate.

“I’m fine, just not feeling great.” He dismisses. Chan’s lip curls into a sneer.

“If we lose this game because of you, I swear to fucking god I will get you kicked from the team.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Sunwoo rises to his feet and glares down at the team captain. He may be the star player, but it takes more than skill to hold a team together. Lee Chan has that ability. Morals, respect from his teammates, he has everything. That’s why Sunwoo backs down when Chan straightens his posture.

“You think I fucking won’t? Remember who got you on this team in the fucking first place.”

Sunwoo’s ears start to ring, and he can hear someone yelling his name. It sounds distant, and he swears he’s imagining it so he ignores it.

It happens again, louder this time and grabbing Chan’s attention as well. Both players whip their heads toward the crowd, and Sunwoo’s stomach drops.

There you are, shoving your way through the crowd to get to the barrier. People yell at you, and you say something that shuts them up. He’s in awe, staring at you and the distressed look on your face. You wave your hands to get his attention, and Chan shoves him again.

“If she’s why you aren’t on top of your game, you better fix shit right now. I’m not losing this one, Kim Sunwoo.”

“Yeah, got it.” It’s like he’s running on autopilot, walking toward you and then running. There are three minutes left in half-time, so he needs to make this fast.

“What are you doing here?” Sunwoo grabs onto the barricade and hauls himself up so he’s face-to-face with you, ignoring the people yelling around the two of you.

You grin at him, a mischievous look in your eye.

“You don’t want me here?” The panic in his eyes makes you laugh, and you lean toward him. He smells of sweat and grass and your nose wrinkles.

“I don’t— you know that isn’t what I meant.” He snaps, but you know he isn’t mad at you.

“Soonyoung said you were playing like shit, figured I’d find out why.” You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you so he can’t leave before you talk to him.

“I’m just distracted today.” You scoff and he narrows his eyes at you. “What?”

“You’ve been practicing for this game for weeks now, Kim Sunwoo. What could possibly have you so distracted today?”

He hesitates, and you already know his answer.

“I don’t have time to talk right now, Y/N.” He’s biting his lip, anxiously flicking his eyes to the clock behind him. You roll your eyes. Of course, he wouldn’t answer you. You knew he wouldn’t give you a straight answer, knew he was too nervous between the game and having you right in front of him to fully focus.

“Then I’ll make this fast.”

“Make what—” your lips are on his, your hand on the back of his neck to hold him close while you kiss him. His body stiffens and then relaxes, and then his hand comes to your arm to keep himself stable. His face slides against yours, transferring his sweat to your body and you pull back.

“Win this game,” you look into his eyes, but it’s like he can’t focus on you. He looks like he’s in a daze, and you tug at the strands of his hair to get his attention.

“I— yeah, I’ll win.” He promises but he sounds far away. The buzzer goes off. “I— what was—”

“If you win this game, you can take me on a date.” You grin and let go of him. Chan yells Sunwoo’s name and the boy pulls back from you reluctantly.

“Anywhere I want?”

“Anywhere.”

“Promise?” His eyes are shining when he looks at you. You smile, placing another gentle kiss on his plush lips.

“I promise.”

He’s running away from you now, a new lightness in his feet that had been missing the past two weeks. There’s fresh energy in his muscles, in his bones, and that overconfident attitude that his teammates and opponents despised returns in full force.

“I take it I’m not gonna have to pull you off the field?” The Coach eyes Sunwoo as he jogs by. Sunwoo slows and turns back with a wicked grin on his face.

“Not a chance in hell, Coach.”

“Can’t believe you kissed him.” Soonyoung nudges you with a grin, and you roll your eyes.

“Why? Didn’t think I had it in me?”

“No, it’s not that,” he shakes his head and lets out a sharp whistle when Sunwoo steals the ball from the opposing team. “He was covered in sweat and grass. Don’t you hate that shit?”

“Worth it,” Soonyoung snorts when you smile at him.

Since the start of the second half, Sunwoo had already brought their team into the lead by two points. You’d never seen him play before, but everything you’d heard was true. He was fast, agile, and strong. He was a beast on the field, keeping himself just out of reach of all the other players. You can tell the other team is starting to get agitated, starting the get rough with your school’s team.

You bite at your thumb as you watch the game proceed. Two minutes left in the game, and they’re tied again. You can see all the players getting tired, everyone slowing down. Sunwoo seems to be the only one with the energy to keep going, but even he seems to struggle.

30 seconds and Sunwoo has the ball again. The stadium has gone quiet and you could swear that you hear the ticking of the clock.

10 seconds and Sunwoo is almost to the goal, you stand from your seat, and people around you rise as well. Anticipation. Tension. The stadium is filled with it. People start cheering again, the other school starts yelling at their team to move their asses.

5 seconds and the crowd goes silent. Sunwoo is on the ground, a player from the other team on top of him. Players from all sides are running over, trying to see what happened. The announcers say that the opposing player, Park Jongseong, tackled Sunwoo, his hand unintentionally jamming the star player’s nose. A medic rushes over, but Sunwoo waves them away. You can’t see his face very well, but you can tell by his posture that he’s agitated.

Jongseong is penalized, and his coach takes him off the field for a moment. Sunwoo is set in front of the center of the goal, pacing while he waits for the ‘ok’ from the referee. He glances up at the crowd, and for a moment you swear that he looks at you. For a moment, you swear that you can see him smiling at you, through the throbbing in his face and the ache in his body. You could swear that he’s telling you I’m gonna win this. Trust me.

Jongseong is back on the field, the clock is set. The referee raises his hand, an indirect kick. Sunwoo rolls his neck, jogging backwards to get a headstart. Yuta and Chan are both ready to receive a pass.

The clock starts.

Sunwoo is running. You and the rest of the crowd are yelling at him to run faster. He does.

The ball is sailing through the air, Chan and Yuta and all the other players on the field are running for the ball. Yuta gets there first.

Yuta kicks the ball, but another player knocks it out of the air. Sunwoo is already waiting, stealing the ball and moving to an open space.

Sunwoo kicks the ball and watches it sail through the air. He doesn’t stop running, not when there’s still time on the clock

The crowd erupts into cheers, deafening you and you feel Soonyoung grab your shoulders, shaking you and yelling just as loud as everybody else. You feel a yell building in your chest.

They’ve won. Sunwoo is being hauled into the air by his teammates, The other team is sulking by their coach. You can’t go to him. Not yet. The crowd is beginning to clear, some people moving from the stands to leave the stadium and chat with their friends, to wait for the team to come out.

“You coming?” Soonyoung quirks an eyebrow at you but you know that he already knows the answer. A shake of your head confirms his suspicions and he grins. “Go get your man. I won’t interrupt this time.” He makes his way down the stands to the parking lot, and you smile while walking down to the field. The teams have dispersed now, done with talking to their coaches and making their way to the locker room. Sunwoo hangs back, talking with Chan as you walk across the turf. Your heart is pounding in your chest, so hard you fear it’ll burst from behind your ribcage.

Chan sees you first, jerking his head in your direction and clapping Sunwoo on the shoulder. Sunwoo turns as he walks away, and you can see the way his eyes light up when he recognizes you.

“I told you I’d win, didn’t I?” He grins at you when you get closer, but you don’t respond. You’re only a few steps from him now, and you take a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Your face is bruised…” you have to force yourself not to jump his bones right there, instead focusing on the blooming bruise on his right cheek. Your fingers brush over it and he doesn’t even flinch.

“It’s nothing,” he reassures you, resting his hands on your waist. “It’ll be gone in a week, I promise. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

You smile back at him, craning your neck to look him in the eye.

“You think my head is pretty?”

“I think everything about you is pretty, babe.” Your cheeks heat up and he presses a kiss to your lips. It’s gentle, far less frantic than the one you gave him on the bleachers. Your hand trails from his cheek to the side of his neck, holding him close to you. Your lips part against his, your head tilting to give a better angle to kiss him at and he inhales sharply. Your body is on fire everywhere he’s touching you. Your waist, your lips, your neck. It feels electric and it pains you when he forces himself to separate from you, his nose brushing against yours.

“All that for winning a game?” he breathes out, pressing a light kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I should win more often if this is gonna be my reward from now on.”

Your lips curl into a smirk. “I’ll give you more than just a kiss if you want, Kim Sunwoo.”

It takes him a moment to process what you said. Sunwoo stares at you, eyes wide and jaw hanging open for so long that you almost consider taking back what you said.

“You’re— what happened to take me to dinner? What happened to hello, how are you?” His grip on your waist tightens and you shrug.

“I have more important things in mind.” Sunwoo’s whole body is tense, so tense that you feel like he’ll combust on the spot if you aren’t careful.

“I’m covered in dirt and sweat.” He tries as an excuse but you scoff. “I don’t think you wanna fuck me while I’m like this, right?”

“Do you really care about that?” He takes a deep breath.

“Me? No. I just…If I go with you right now I swear to god I’ll cum in my pants and I really don’t want that to happen during our first time together—”

“Sunwoo,” You grab his chin between two fingers and he snaps his mouth shut. “I don’t care about any of that. I care about you. I want you, whether or not you’re covered in sweat.” You reach one of your hands up, pushing his soaking wet hair out of his face and his features soften.

“You really…you like me, don’t you?”

“I figured it was obvious when I kissed you in front of the whole stadium, Sunwoo.” You kiss your teeth and step away from him. His grip loosens on you and eventually falls when you continue to back away from him, that sly grin still on your face.

“Where are you going?” He trails after you like a lost puppy but you just shrug.

“Come with me if you wanna find out.”

You silently thank god when you find the parking lot already half empty. Sunwoo’s car is a distance from most other cars, tucked under some trees that cast shadows over that old Toyota Corolla.

“You’re—” Sunwoo is cut off when you open the door to his back seat and shove him in. You hear some people behind you howling, briefly turning your head to see his teammates cheering him on.

“Get some, Kim Sunwoo!” Lee Chan screams and you laugh before crawling into the car behind Sunwoo.

You turn just enough to slam the car door shut, and then you’re on top of Sunwoo. He tugs you onto his lap, your skirt riding up enough to expose your thighs to him, but you give him no time to process anything, your lips already crushed against his. It’s sloppy, but the whine he emits just from the pressure behind it has heat curling in your stomach again. Your tongue dips into his open mouth, and he pushes against you with more force that you had anticipated. He curls his tongue around yours, sucking and licking at it, and your body begins to shudder against his.

Sunwoo drags your hips down against his own, groaning at the feeling of your heat against his growing member.

“Can’t wait to be inside you,” he hisses when he pulls away, moving his lips down to attach to your throat and sucking harsh marks into your skin. You whine at his statement, grinding against him of your own will once he’d set the rhythm. He feels so good against you, pressing against your clit in just the right way to have you curling against him with broken whines spilling from your lips. Sunwoo moves one of your hands to your hair, jerking your head to the side to expose more of your skin to him, and you know he grows impatient when your shirt gets in the way.

“Can I take this off?” He asks you, his eyes glittering when he looks up at you.

“Really think I’d say no to you?” You smile, reaching your hands down and pulling your shirt off and tossing it somewhere in the front seat. Sunwoo looks like he’s in heaven when you unclip your bra and throw it back with your shirt, baring your breasts for him.

“Fuck…” he breathes out, cupping one in his hand and brushing his thumb over your nipple. You force yourself to keep your breathing steady, to let him do what he wants. “You’re so pretty, baby. Wanna drown in your pretty tits.”

“Yeah?” You ask, your voice breathy. “Who’s stopping you, then?” He looks up at you like you’re his goddess, like he’d worship you every day and every night if you’d let him.

“Really?” He hardly waits for a response before he’s shoving his face into your tits, laving at the valley between them before ultimately choosing one to focus on with his mouth. He sucks at the nipple, tugging at it between his teeth and listening to the delicate whines you let out. The other breast doesn’t go unnoticed, one of his hands palming at it and tweaking the nipple for a few minutes before he switches sides to give each of your breasts the same treatment.

You haven’t stopped grinding on him in this time, your eyelids fluttering shut while your roll your hips over Sunwoo’s. You can feel his dick twitching in his soccer shorts, can feel him fighting the urge to jerk his hips into yours.

“Sunwoo,” you choke out, tugging at the strands of his hair. It doesn’t stop him, in fact you could swear that the action makes him suck harder on your tits and your voice breaks into a moan. “Sunwoo,”

This time when you speak, you yank his head back. He whines, his neck now at an awkward angle as he tries to sink back into your chest.

“Whyyyy,” he drawls with a pout. His lips are puffy and covered in spit, similar to your chest and you already know he’s sucked marks into your skin that’ll be visible for days after this.

“Wanna fuck you, baby.” You plead. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”

His eyes roll into the back of his head at your tone, and he pushes you off of him just long enough to shove his clothing off. You do the same, noting the way your panties stick to your slick cunt. With a smirk, you discreetly tuck them into the center console while his back is still somewhat turned to you.

By the time he’s turned back around, you’ve stripped yourself of all your clothing and sunk your fingers into your core. Your eyes have fluttered shut with two fingers inside of you and your thumb rubbing circles into your clit.

“What are— what—” Sunwoo sounds like he’s going to cry, and you force your eyes open. He’s staring at your glistening folds with a look of pure hunger and you can only assume heartbreak as you finger yourself. “Why are you—”

“Gotta get myself ready for you,” you tell him with a pout. “Don’t—f-fuck— wanna make sure you fit i-inside of me.” Your back arches off the door and Sunwoo lunges for you, yanking your hand away from your pussy. The suddenness of the action makes you yelp, your eyes fly open again when Sunwoo sinks your fingers into his mouth. You can’t tell if the moan he lets out is genuine or if it’s for show, but it’s guttural and has your walls clenching around absolutely nothing. His tongue laves over your fingers, sucking them as far into his mouth as he can, getting as much of your taste off of your fingers as humanly possible before pulling them from his mouth and lowering your hand back to your side.

“That’s my job,” Sunwoo hisses, and then he’s lowering his body down so he can be level with your pussy. Two of his fingers prod at your entrance, and your hips jerk toward him against your well. He clicks his tongue when he sinks them into you. “Loosened your little cunt up a little bit already, hm? Gotta stretch you out even more though if I wanna fit inside you.”

You can only whine when he sinks a third finger into you, scissoring them inside of them and curling them into that sweet spot inside of you. The stretch begins to sting, ever so slowly ebbing away and being replaced by pure, unadulterated pleasure.

“Oh god, Sunwoo.” You gasp out, your hand wrapping around his wrist but you can’t exactly figure out why. To slow him down? To force him to go faster? “Feels so fucking good, please.” You feel a coil beginning to tighten in your stomach as his fingers punch into that spot time and time again, his thumb rubbing harsh circles into your clit similar to how you were. Fast learner.

Sunwoo grins at the way your face twists and contorts with pleasure, the way you try to control how your hips buck against his hand, the guttural moans you emit.

“Gonna cum, babe?” He knows the answer. He knows by the way you clench against him, the way your cunt tries to force his hand out.

“Yes,” you whine out, “yes, gonna c-cum. Sun-Sunwoo, please.”

“Please what, babe?” He coos. “Can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.” Just to tease you, he slows down. “Do you want me to stop?”

“NO,” you cry out, taking matters into your own hands and fucking down onto his hand. “Ple-please let me cum!”

“Ohhh, I see.” He hums and drives his fingers into you faster, harder. Your whines and whimpers have become broken little sobs. “Fuck, babe, it’s like no one’s ever made you feel like this.” He can’t help but laugh when you clench down on him again.

“G-Gonna cum, Sunwoo!” He just hums, watching as you clench down once, twice, and then your body is jerking against his hand. Your cunt tries to force him out one more time but he continues to drive into you and work you through your first orgasm of the night.

When your body has stopped shuddering, Sunwoo finally pulls his fingers out of you. He raises them up a bit, just enough for you to see the way the mix of your arousal and your cum.

“Look at all this, baby.” He holds his fingers out to you with a broad grin on his face. “Have you ever tasted yourself?” Your eyes come back to focus when he prods his fingers against your lips. You let him sink his fingers into your mouth, nearly gagging when they hit the back of your throat. “Tastes good, doesn’t it?”

You swallow around his fingers, taking in the bittersweet taste on your tongue. Sunwoo watches you with hazy eyes when you take hold of his wrist again, holding his hand close to you while your tongue swirls around his fingers. You know exactly what he’s thinking, know exactly what’s going on behind those hazy eyes of his, and have to force yourself to pull off of his fingers when you know you’ve cleaned him off completely.

“Fucking minx,” he growls and grips your hips tightly in his hands, flipping you over so you’re on your hands and knees. “Did that on purpose, didn’t you? Knew I’d think of you sucking my cock, think of you gagging on it as I fuck your pretty little face?” You don’t have a response this time, only moaning when he shoves his cock into you with one harsh thrust.

He gives you no time to adjust, gives you no time to work through the sting it brings you but you don’t mind. Not when the stretch feels so good. Not when his cock is fucking into at a pace so harsh it has your body sliding across the seats. Your arm reaches out, hand desperately trying to find purchase on something, anything to hold you steady against the roughness of his hips slapping against yours.

His hand slides up your spine, tangling in your hair and yanking on it to pull you against him. Your moans become louder, harsher until they’ve turned into screams and cries of his name. You can feel the fabric of his car’s seats digging into your knees, feel the old Toyota Corolla rocking back and forth while the windows fog up with the heat of your sinful behavior.

One of Sunwoo’s legs slips down to the floor of the car, but he doesn’t slow as he adjusts his position. It gives him a new angle, new strength to fuck into you harder and faster, bruising your insides as he practically punches into your cervix from the force of his thrusts.

“How does this feel, hm?” He coos into your ear, his breathing heavy from overexhertion. “Does this feel good? Am I fucking you good, baby?”

“S-so good!” You cry out. “Fuckin’ me s’good, Sunwoo!”

“Yeah?” He bends you over again, this time hunching over your body and humping into you like a dog in heat. Your back arches into him, your body shaking with seemingly neverending pleasure. “Gonan cum f’me?” Sunwoo’s arms are all over you, pinching at your nipples, squeezing your waist, gripping your ass. His lips place firm kisses onto your spinal cord, sucking hickies into your skin that no one but him will see.

“YES!” Your voice breaks and you cum again, squeezing so tightly around his cock that he emits a moan so loud and sharp that you fear you’ve broken him.

Sunwoo pumps white hot cum into you in thick ropes that spill out while he continues to fuck you, overstimulating you both. The mixture of your cum drips down your legs and onto the fabric seats, and you pray that whoever sits back here after you doesn’t notice the white stain in the middle seat, doesn’t think to ask about this mystery stain and that Sunwoo refuses to give them an answer.

When his hips finally slow, when his dick finally softens inside of you and he slips out, you let your body sag against the seat. Sunwoo grimaces at the sight of you, dark marks littering your skin. He hopes that Soonyoung doesn’t ask questions about the way you limp into your classes the next few days. You hope he knows better by now than to question it.

“For a sophomore,” you wheeze out while you roll over. Sunwoo runs his hands up and down your thighs, smiling thoughtfully. “You sure seem to have lots of experience.”

“Never judge a book by its cover, babe.” He squeezes just above your knee, running his tongue across his lips when he sees more cum dripping out of you. You catch the fiery look in his eye and groan while you squeeze your legs shut. He groans when you use one foot to kick him back against the door opposite you.

“No,” you scold him. He looks like a kicked puppy.

“Whyyyy,” he reaches for your legs again and you push him back even more.

“I’m tired, Sunwoo.” You say but he just crawls on top of you with a mischievous grin.

“You won’t have to do anything,” he bargains. “Jus’ wanna taste you a little. That’s all!” You glare at him.

“One time.” His eyes light up and he pries your legs open again. “You get one more from me tonight, Kim Sunwoo. You hear me?”

“Mhm!” He dives straight into you, knowing that this was far from the last time he’d get you to cum in his car tonight.

“I still think that you should be thanking me,” Eric shuts the door of Sunwoo’s car with a sly grin.

“For what?” Sunwoo asks exasperatedly.

It had been less than 24 hours since Sunwoo had fucked you in his car and officially made you his after a long year and a half of pining. He was tired. His body was tired. He didn’t have the energy to deal with his best friend this early in the morning, or at all really.

“For getting you guys together! It was my idea, anyway.” Eric clicks his seatbelt into place and runs a hand through his dyed red hair. “Where are your car gummy worms?”

“Center console,” Sunwoo puts the car in drive and has barely begun to ease his foot off the brake when Eric lets a gasp so violent and loud that he slams his foot back down again. “What, what happened?” He slams the car back into park, his face going white when he sees what his best friend is dangling between two dainty fingers.

Black lace panties.

Your black lace panties.

“Sunwoo…you didn’t…” Eric chokes out with a mix of disgust and heartbreak on his face. Sunwoo rips the panties out of his best friend’s hands and shoves them into the pocket of his jeans. His face feels like it’s on fire, his heart pounding out of his chest.

“Do not ever speak of this to anybody. Ever.”

“You fucking FREAK!”

652 notes · View notes

rowretro · 1 month

Text

𝔹𝕠𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕥

✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, marriage, blood, violence, explicit stuff mentioned, somewhat sexual(?)

❁synopsis: Your parents arranged for you to marry the Park Sunghoon, who seems to be extremely interested in you, crazy in love with you one'd say. However on the day of your wedding, a turn of events lead to the dark truth behind this so called love.

YAN!RIKI X READER YAN!HOON X READER

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

Y/n looks stunning. Her body hugged by the expensive material of her wedding dress, the design of the swan-white dress made her look oh so angelic. It's the day. The day Lee Y/n becomes Park Y/n. A man who was extremely cold, hung out with girls that ended up sucking his dick the very night they meet, was now waiting for his soon-to-be wife to walk down the aisle, so he can settle down, and devote his everything to this darling.

Y/n, however, was wishing on a miracle to happen. She wanted to run away. A marriage she was forced into, she doesn't know him or love him. She fears him... he's a fucking mafia boss for fucksake. Yet her parents preferred money over an average art student, who barely got even a B in any of her past exams. She sighed, looking in the mirror one last time. Alone in the room, as she let realization hit her.

Feeling a little stressed, she picked up a French cigarette, twirling it around in her fingers, before putting it away. She couldn't walk down the aisle smelling of cigarettes. She looked in the mirror one last time, trying to mentally prepare herself for her own wedding. Then a miracle happened. "Fucking shut your mouth and do as I say or else I'll shoot you." A man simply said, his big hand covering almost 90% of her face, as he towered over her.

She could only see his eyes, but damn was he fine as fuck. "Oh sir sir- you don't need to do all that... We can jump out the window! no one'll notice" she said with a smile. The kidnapper, hesitant at first, decided to let it be, and lead her out, his grip firm on her wrist as he dragged her to his car. Y/n didn't fight him at all. She didn't care if she was going to die, or have her organs trafficked, heck even herself, she just didn't want to become a tortured slave to the Parks' Dynasty.

"THE BRIDE IS MISSING!" Mrs Park yelled as Sunghoon's face immediately changed. That shy, excited look now long gone. Within a matter of minutes, Mr Park walked over to Sunghoon, showing the Video message a certain friend had sent. "You tried to fuckin break a deal?!... I thought we agreed on sharing Park. She's mine too. Since you can't keep your end of the deal I don't see why I should." The man in the video threatened, and with that, the video cut off.

No one can have his y/n. He laid his eyes on her the very day Riki did, the 2 instantly falling in love with her. It's crazy how they helped each other out, stalking her to find every detail about her. They both knew her strengths and weaknesses, favourite colour, favourite pet. Everything. Sunghoon wanted you to himself. So he just had to tempt your parents with his money, he didn't expect Nishimura Riki to find out though.

"Yoi- pretty boy- when you gon return me? please tell me, I need to come up with a proper run away plan, can't let park Sunghoon marry me y'know?" Y/n simply said as she sat on the bed, still in her wedding dress. Riki eyed her up and down, he slid off his mask, stunning Y/n with his perfect, plush lips that are oh so kissable, a jawline to die for, fuck he's so fucking fine. Those eyes don't lie. "Done staring bride?" He asked as Y/n blinked.

"Yeah- uh anyways... when'll you let me go?... clearly you have no intention on killing me or trafficking- I-" Y/n was beyond shocked when the kidnapper pinned her against the bed, his dark, pretty eyes, empty of any emotion, how he glared coldly at her, as if he were staring into her soul. "Oh darling... Of course I wouldn't kill you.... for I have better plans for you..." He simply said as he gripped her jaw.

"I don't know... an easy death is looking like a really good option right now..." Y/n nervously snickerred as the man leaned in closer "Nishimura Y/n... let me get into my tux... you and I are getting married tonight." The man smirked as Y/n stared in shock. Riki cuffed her to the bed as he went into the restroom to get dressed. She'd have never let him kidnap her if she knew she'd have the same fate either way.

Only, Sunghoon actually seemed nice... The way his arms were always around her waist. How, despite being cold or rude, he'd still make sure she's ok and healthy. The way he'd rest his forehead against hers, reminding her of how beautiful she is. Though he was a playboy, and he was hard to trust. That very moment, she felt her wrists be free, a familiar scent hitting her nose as a strong pair of arms wrapped around her.

"It's ok baby... you're safe now. Lets go hmm?" Sunghoon said as he attempted to lift her from the bed. "Not so fucking fast Park. We had a deal..." Riki suddenly said, walking into the room, white shirt half buttoned up, his hair already done, and his coat nowhere to be found. Damn he looked hot. To be fair, Riki didn't seem awful, even though he did kidnap her. He's been giving her princess treat meant since she had first arrived...

It all went south for her since this fated day... The day she married 2 men...

✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧

253 notes · View notes

ieatstarsforaliving · 7 months

Text

The Fucking Fight Club (2)

Summary: Hazel tries to control her powers during the first fight club. But because she's a loser, she fucks up. A lot.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mild violence, mentions of bruises and blood

Word Count: 3866

Note: Okay I know I gave y'all the first chapter yesterday but you guys surprised me with so much likes, I quickly whipped up the next chapter. The ending is kind of bad but lmfao idc. It's extra long cause I probably can't write until next weekend due to fucking midterms. I wish I could drop out and write fanfics all day long. But life is unfair to the gays. - Bia <3

“Okay, before we actually do this, I want Hazel to practice controlling her punches.”

Josie had dragged PJ and Hazel to a hiking trail in the nearest forest. This wouldn’t have been mandatory if Hazel didn’t have the super-strength to murder a human with a single blow, but since she did, Josie wasn’t about to let the feminist self-defense fight club happen without a bit of rehearsal.

“Fine, mom.” PJ rolled her eyes. She was used to Josie’s dramatic cautiousness, but this seemed like a waste of time. She turned to Hazel and offered her face. “Hazel, just relax, and punch me.”

Hazel did a double take. “Punch… punch you?”

“Okay, I don’t like that tone. I know how to take a punch. Something people would always say is ‘PJ knows how to take a punch.’ Come on up.”

“PJ, she literally beat up a grown man with metal octopus arms last week. And the week before that, a man made of indestructible sand. You remember that? On the news? You might know how to take a punch, but you don’t know how to take her punch.”

“That’s why we’re practicing!”

“I meant like practice on a tree or something.” Josie waved towards the nearest tree, standing about 25 feet tall. “Hit a tree, Hazel.”

Hazel shrugged, before pulling back and punching into the middle of the tree. In a split second, the tree quaked under the assault, its massive frame crackling under the exact spot of Hazel’s fist. The bark gave away first, exploding outward in a radial pattern. When she retracted her hand, there was a massive dent on the thick body of the tree, jagged fault lines extending from the center of the impact.

PJ’s eyes widened. “Holy fuck. That could have been my face.”

Josie shook her head. “Okay, so, obviously, you have to calm down. By a lot. Try the same thing, but like, weaken it?”

Hazel nodded. She then gently tapped the tree with her fist.

Josie shook her head again. “That was clearly too weak.”

Hazel sighed. “I don’t know if I can do this, guys. I’m so used to punching psychopathic criminals who want to kill me, so I’m always using at least 90% of my strength.”

“Which is why I brought this.” Josie pulled out a piece of paper from her bag. It turned out to be your face printed on an A4 sheet with a speech bubble that read, ‘punch me!’ “Now, hear me out—”

“-Actually, this is brilliant,” PJ said, taking the paper from Josie’s hands. She taped it to the tree and presented it to Hazel. “Imagine the tree is (Y/N). She’s standing in front of you. She’s sexy, she's wearing a bikini, she’s ready to learn, and she’s asking you to punch her. What do you do?”

Hazel stared at the tree with your face on it. In spite of this entire scenario being outrageously stupid, Hazel’s eyes fixated on the piece of paper, trying to immerse herself in your 2D face. It seemed to be a copy from last year’s yearbook, one that she had spent many hours staring at. She felt weirdly guilty as she wrinkled her eyebrows.

“I don’t really want to punch her.”

“Well, you have to! This is for feminism!” PJ groaned when she saw the hesitancy in Hazel’s face. “Hazel, women like strong, protective people. Why do you think there’s a hulk shrine in the girl’s second floor bathroom? You punch (Y/N) straight in the face, and she’ll immediately fall in love with you.”

“Well–”

“-She will, Josie.”

Hazel nodded. It was worth a try. If she wanted to wrestle with you in this club, she had to try. With a measured breath, Hazel extended her arm, fingers curling into a tight fist. She delivered a punch, focusing on her strength rather than causing harm. The moment of impact was firm but gentle, almost considerate towards the tree’s bark. It was as if the tree had barely registered the encounter, although its leaves were left shaking. She turned to her friends.

“Perfect,” PJ whispered, her eyes glistening in awe. “Let’s go beat some bitches up.”

“Not how I’d word it,” Josie muttered.

That afternoon, you were taking a hike in the same forest with Isabel and Brittany. It was quite calming, walking and talking with your friends in the middle of a beautiful forest. Birds were chirping, winds were breezing– And you guys were completely alone, since nobody really came here, and if they did, it was usually after sunset to do drugs and film porn.

The three of you reached the midpoint of the trail to take a small break, when Brittany pointed at a nearby tree.

“Hey, isn’t that…”

You followed her finger to a tall tree that seemed to be beaten up by someone, with its bark splintered and smashed by a form of impact. And in the middle of its trunk, was a photo of you, with a speech bubble that read ‘punch me!’.

Your heart dropped.

“Oh my god, (Y/N), somebody wants to kill you,” Isabel gasped. She walked up to the tree and ripped the paper off. “Isn’t this from our yearbook?”

You reached out to take the paper from Isabel’s hand and inspected it closely. It was indeed a page from the previous year’s yearbook, with your smiling face captured in a freeze-frame moment of your junior days. The speech bubble, however, had been added later, which meant that someone had deliberately printed your face, edited it, and pinned it to a tree to violently punch it out.

You felt a chill down your body. Who could have done this? You knew it was hard to be friends with everyone from school– but who would despise you enough to do this vicious and also slightly weird property damage to nature?

“We should report it or something, like to a park ranger,” Brittany offered, sensing your panic.

“No, They’re just going to tell us not to come back here wearing shorts,” You sighed. There were no cameras on the trail or anything, and the park rangers were men who were probably going to comment on your appearance instead of the actual problem at hand. “I have to do something about this by myself.”

You needed protection. No, you needed to learn how to protect yourself. You needed teachers who could help you protect yourself from evil highschool men.

You needed Hazel Callahan.

You turned to your friends with a determined face, masking your fear before saying;

“Do you guys want to join a self-defense club with me?”

Isabel and Brittany paused, exchanged glances, then nodded.

“What the fuck. These girls are ugly.”

It was the first club meeting for the feminist self-defense fight club, and there were exactly 8 girls waiting in the gym. Absolutely no sign of you. Hazel laid on the gym mats, trying not to show her disappointment. She reached for her phone, staring at your number in her contacts. She never got to texting you because she was panicking over what to say one night, and was busy fighting off muggings and carjackings every other night.

“Are you stressed? Cause I’m stressed,” Josie muttered, as the advisor for the club hopped in, earning a sharp breath from Hazel.

“Hey, ladies! Let’s get it poppin’ in this motherfucker.”

Hazel blinked. Mr. G was the advisor for this club?

This was going to be absolutely horrendous.

“Alright, uhm… hello, everybody,” Josie tried, looking around the gym filled with girls jumping on trampolines, hula-hooping, scooting, and balance-balling. “Okay, excuse me, sorry, I feel- sorry–”

“-EVEVRYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP.” PJ hit the floor with a broom, each collision echoing through the space with a ‘BANG’.

“This isn’t a little hangout, okay? Oh it’s not a sleepover or playtime. There are serious rules that we need to establish, okay?

“First? Listen to Hazel.”

Hazel lifted her hand in a subtle gesture.

“Second? Be on time. Except for you,” PJ pointed to Mr. G. “You come whenever you want. What time is it?”

“3:30–-”

“-3:30! Club starts at 3:15. Not 3:16, not 3:17. But the door closes at 3:15. No exceptions!”

Hazel smiled. Other than the fact that they were the ones who were actually late, PJ was doing amazing, putting authority towards the three girls and setting the ambiance. PJ could be a menace sometimes most of the time, but when she wanted to get shit done, she got shit done. Hazel was almost too distracted by PJ’s rant—

“-I don’t care, if you’re like, oh, but I had to go get extra help for math because I need to get a full ride because my mom lives in a trailer and she loves her boyfriend more than me, bleh blah blarh blargh– Shut up. My dad left me and I’m incredibly punctual–”

–That she didn’t even notice you walking into the gym with Isabel and Brittany following closely behind. When she did notice, her heart seemed to pick up speed, her lips curling into a smile even without realizing. Josie recognized the smile– one that Hazel only had when she was talking about her crush— and Josie turned around, motioning to PJ that the holy trinity had entered the gym.

Your eyes met with Hazel’s, and you waved in acknowledgement. She almost dropped her notebook as she looked around to check if you were waving to someone else, and then she fumblingly waved back. You giggled. Hazel had this face that effortlessly radiated innocent charm. You weren’t sure why, but you were drawn to her slightly nerdy demeanor. (it’s called being gay)

“Hey, guys. Come on in,” PJ rasped. “Uh… we’re just getting started here.”

You walked to Hazel and stood beside her. “Sorry we’re late,” you apologized.

The three girls shook their heads. “Don’t worry about it—”

“-Uhm, the rules were for next week, but this week is good–”

“-Yeah, no worries, take it easy.”

Annie seemed confused. “Okay, I just want to make sure– This is a self-defense class, right? Where we can learn to protect ourselves against football players.”

“And the criminals that Spider-Woman has been fighting? Cause, uhm, crime rate has been going up so criminals are gonna pork us. They’re gonna pork us.”

“I thought we were fighting each other for money. There’s a cash prize, right?”

“I thought this was to be a part of like a local, underprivileged female community.”

“My identity is completely attached to hers so I just go wherever she goes.”

“I thought I could learn how to protect myself. Cause I’m pretty sure someone’s trying to kill me,” You added.

“What?” Hazel turned, her eyes filled with worry.

“Everyone’s here for a good reason!” Josie laughed. “So, you know, why are we nitpicking reasons?”

“Yeah! So, let’s jump in. Hazel, why don’t you take it away?”

“Uh.”

PJ and Josie stepped back and began clapping. Everyone else followed along into a scattered and confused applause. Hazel walked to the front, opening up her notebook to the page reading ‘Self-Defense Club.’

“Okay. Hi. I’m Hazel. And I’m going to teach you guys how to fight. Maybe throw some punches. Some kicks.”

There was a bit of silence, maybe a single cough. PJ spoke up.

“(Y/N), since you’re closest to Hazel, why don’t you volunteer and step up?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

You weren’t completely sure what was going on or how exactly Hazel was going to teach self-defense, but you dropped your backpack to the floor and walked towards Hazel, who looked incredibly afraid of what was going to happen next. She looked over your shoulders to PJ and Josie.

PJ mouthed the words, ‘Punch her. She’s the tree. Punch her.’

Hazel sent signals through her eyes meaning, ‘I can’t– I’m not gonna punch her.’

PJ continued to mouth the words, ‘Punch her. Hulk shrine. Imagine her wearing a bikini.’

Hazel’s face contorted with disbelief, her eyebrows raised in surprise, and her mouth slightly agape. Was she actually going to punch the girl that she’d been crushing on for years? Was this really the way to do it? She tried to ignore PJ who was now mouthing ‘punch your virginity away’ and instead curled her hands into fists, imagining the tree, the print-out of your face saying ‘punch me!’, you wearing a bikini, your smile, your wave, your eyes, your body—

-While you stood beside her, wondering why Hazel looked like she was about to shit herself. You began to open your mouth to ask if she was okay.

“Hazel—”

—And she flung her fist to your face.

You didn’t even register what had happened until a sharp burst of pain radiated from your nose, and you found yourself laying on the floor of the gym. You heard gasps and shouts and something about Mr. G trying to shut the club down (“Hey hey hey hey hey– I don’t know about this shit-”) as you slowly sat up, tasting liquid metal. The pain began to spread to the rest of your face as your eyes blurred up, leaving you momentarily stunned and struggling to regain your composure.

“Fuck, (Y/N)- I’m so sorry-” a horrified voice rang in front of you, and you felt a warm hand against your cheek. The hand seemed to be shaking, and you wiped your hazy eyes to see Hazel kneeling beside you, her expression embedded with guilt. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“You didn’t even warn her!” Annie screamed.

PJ shrugged. “Okay, we didn’t get warnings in juvie. Juvie was way crazier. One time, this girl’s punching me in the rain. Fall to my knees. It’s muddy. I get up– I’m blind. Punch her right in the middle of her face. Broke her fucking nose.”

“Pretty sure Hazel broke (Y/N)’s nose too,” Annie grumbled.

Isabel hurriedly handed you a couple of paper towels as Mr. G pushed the crowd to assess the situation.

“Let me see her,” Mr. G ordered, gasping when he saw the amount of blood coming from your nose. “Oh, shit, man, we gotta shut this down.”

“No, No—”

“-Shut this shit down. Shut it down—”

“-No, Don’t blow the whistle– Don’t blow the whistle!” Josie yelled. Everyone went silent, turning their attention from you to Josie. “I know that, you know– this is a little messy and bloody right now— Hazel, can you take (Y/N) to the nurse’s office– but like, the only way that we can learn how to defend ourselves is by teaching each other.”

Josie continued on with her little speech as Isabel and Brittany offered to take you to the nurse. But Hazel denied their help, rambling something about how this was all her fault. She picked you up fairly easily to your surprise, bridal style, and carried you out of the gym. You clutched onto her and rested your aching face into her stomach, feeling embarrassed.

When you arrived at the office, the nurse had gone home already, leaving Hazel to place you on the examination bed and find the medical kit. She seemed really anxious as you touched your face, your hand coming back dripping in red.

“God, juvie really taught you how to punch, huh,” You joked, battling your agony with humor. Hazel didn’t laugh. Instead she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the sink water, indulging the silence. You tried again. “Hazel.”

It was ignored once again as Hazel kneeled in front of you and started cleaning your face, her thumb gently holding your chin. She was very obviously avoiding your gaze with the best of her ability.

“Hazel, look at me.”

Hazel finally looked up to your eyes. She looked like a child knowing that she was about to be reprimanded or put on time out— and you almost felt sorry for Hazel, even though you were the one bleeding out. She seemed to grimace as you opened your mouth, getting ready to be shouted at. But instead, you asked;

“Why didn’t you message me?”

Hazel paused.

“I gave you my number. You didn’t message me,” You said again, completely serious. “You don’t like me?”

“No, I like you!” Hazel exclaimed. Her cheeks turned into a shade of pink as she tried to reword the sentence. “I mean, I don’t don’t like you, I… I’m really sorry. I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to come to the club, and I’m sure you don’t want to anymore-”

“-No, I want to.” You interrupted. “I mean, my face hurts like a bitch, but… it was a solid punch. And I really do need to learn how to defend myself like that. I think someone’s trying to kill me, so I want to be ready.”

Hazel cocked her head. “Is someone attacking you? Do you need help?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly, but I did see my face taped onto a tree, and someone had hit it really, really hard. Like, incredibly hard. Maybe with a rock, or something? I don’t know. I think it might be a death threat.”

Color seemed to drain out of Hazel’s face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you–” You explained, mistaking Hazel’s pale skin as fear. “Listen, I’m not angry at you. Well, okay, I am a little, I think you could have warned me about the punch, at least, but… I know that you’re still recovering from your past and you’re probably on edge all the time.”

Hazel nodded along, as it was partially true– she was on edge, but mainly because you were staring down at her with blood on your face and you still managed to look hot as fuck. She choked on her words before saying, “Still, I shouldn't have punched you like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m really sorry.”

You smiled. “This is the whole point of the club though, right? You punch me, I punch you… and we become stronger together– ow.”

You winced when the cloth touched a particular spot on your nose bridge, being reminded of your injury.

“Shit, sorry, here—” Hazel instantly dropped the cloth. She carefully cupped your face, examining your wound with sincere worry. She was used to seeing wounds on herself, but seeing them on a person that she liked— seeing them on you, made her particularly upset.

You were surprised to see Hazel being so serious. Every time you tried to talk to her, she was either nervous or punching you. To see her so focused on your face made you feel a bit self-conscious, leading you to comment on her skills to break the silence.

“You seem to have a lot of experiences patching someone up. Do you do this often?”

She chuckled, “You have no idea.”

You assumed she was talking about juvie, and you recalled seeing the bruises on her face the last time you talked to her. Was Hazel still having problems with crime even after prison? You stared at her, your heart throbbing with sympathy for Hazel. What struggles had she faced in her past for her to learn to punch so strongly, to patch up bruises, and to always be nervous around others?

Hazel pulled away from you, finishing up the basic patch-up. She started putting the medical kit away as you caught sight at the mirror across from you.

“Great. I look awful.” You sighed, lingering on your reflection.

“No, you don’t.”

Hazel tore her eyes away from the kit and responded, as if you had said something completely out of reality. You laughed and shook your head, looking at the floor.

“No, my face is a complete mess–”

“-You look pretty.”

You tore your eyes off from the floor to Hazel. She was staring at you with a soft look in her eyes, one that you felt yourself getting lost in. She had such… honesty within them, as if she fully believed your beauty underneath the red and blue color.

“You always do.”

And for a moment you wondered how you had never truly seen Hazel before— when the soft glow from the sun streamed through the window, casting a warm light over the two of you. Hazel’s brown hair, cascading into a messy mullet, framed her face which seemed to be burning up each second that passed.

“...you too,” You muttered, a shy smile replacing your dumbstruck expression. “I hope you know that.”

Then it was her turn to gawk, at you and your hands timidly placed on your legs which dangled from the examination bed. She was reminded of her crush that had been sitting in her heart for years. She had just spent 5 minutes in a room alone with you— and for a second, she was almost glad that she punched you.

And all of a sudden, Hazel seemed to recognize the lack of space between the two of you. Had you been this close to her this entire time? Your face was just inches apart from hers, and time seemed to stretch as you two gazed at each other, hearts thumping in unison. It was as if the wall Hazel had managed to build around her feelings towards you crumbled within this moment. Hazel’s lips parted, just a fraction, as if inviting the inevitable to say—

“-The club isn’t being shut down!”

The office door swung open with a bang.

Hazel immediately leaped back from you, as you whipped your face towards PJ and Josie who stopped in their celebratory tracks, analyzing the odd tension from the room.

“Oh, sorry, we thought–” Josie gaped, rubbing the back of her head in awkwardness. “How are you doing, (Y/N)?”

“I’m doing okay, actually. I should go. But I’ll see you later, bye.” You hopped down from the bed and started walking out of the room, talking a bit too fast for anyone’s comfort. You almost fell over while you ran down the hallway, unable to accept what had just unfolded. What was that? You almost— you almost kissed a girl. You almost kissed Hazel Callahan.

In the meantime, Hazel was also mortified at the fact PJ and Josie had interfered right then and there. She hid her face with her hands which her friends mistook for anger.

Josie tried to calm her down, “Okay, I know that today was kind of a disaster and you made (Y/N) bleed, but after you left we managed to grow the spirit. Everyone’s into beating each other up now. It’s kind of working.”

“And, I honestly don’t know what just went on right now but… (Y/N) just said she’ll ‘see you later’. Which means it kind of worked for you too,” PJ added. “And it doesn’t seem like you broke her nose, which meant that you can actually control your power!”

“Are you still up for this, Hazel?”

Hazel peeked out from hands, her face still red, her heart still sprinting, her mind still thinking about your lips— and how you said you would see her later. A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded and said,

“Let’s fucking do this.”

Previous Chapter: The Origin

Next Chapter: The Set-Up for Chapter 4

#bottoms movie #hazel callahan #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x reader #josie bottoms #pj bottoms #hazel callahan spiderwoman #hazel callahan x you #bottoms (2023)

499 notes · View notes

samkerrworshipper · 6 months

Text

losing | leah williamson x reader

lol i based this off of a sermon that i listened to this morning lol so enjoy! also loosely based off a multitude of requests i’ve been sent x

You’d never felt more heart broken in your life than you did in this moment. Looking out at a crowd of people you didn’t know, a crowd of people that were feeling a fraction of the disappointment you were. You’d collapsed to the grass as soon as the whistle had blown, your heart shattering into a million pieces on the pitch. You’d worked your ass off, your whole team had worked their asses off, and yet you’d still fallen short, it still wasn’t enough.

You couldn’t even really make out the crowd, the overwhelming disappointment that was covering your lungs and clouding your brain stopping you from being able to feel anything besides your own body, the feeling of your stomach dropping, the feeling of your lungs breathing in cold air that burned in your throat and the pure dread that you could feel in your heart with every pump that it did, the disappointment in yourself spreading throughout your whole body through your veins and blood. You’d never failed like this, hell, your debut for the Lionesses had been the home Euro’s, where you hadn’t lost a single game. You were the youngest Ballon D’or winner, you were a golden boot winner, you were so much better than this, your team expected you to be better than this, Sarina expected you to be better than this.

The tears streaming down your face hurt, they hurt to push out and they hurt dripping down your face. The burning sensation of the cold wind mixing with the liquid dripping down your face steadily. Second was always the first to lose. That was something your parents had always told you growing up, no matter what sport you were playing, second place is always the first to lose, and there is nothing worse than losing. You’d never really been a loser per say, your debut senior team had been Barcelona, who were soaring in the Champion’s league, every week was a victory. You’d hardly lost with the Lionesses, and the one game that you’d never been able to comprehend losing you had, you’d lost.

A few minutes went by, of you lying by yourself on the pitch, you could hear the Spanish team celebrating, the women bathing in their victory. That was about all you could hear, the feelings of disappointment being enough noise for your ears. It was like that for a little while, your brain busying your body with enough thoughts, but then, when the adrenaline started to wear off and the real effects of the game started to set in you felt it all come crashing down. Suddenly you could feel everything, from your teammates crying a few metres away from you, the Spanish women celebrating, to the crowd that surrounded you. Everything was too much for you, the tears on your face, the oxygen in your lungs it was all too much, you couldn’t be here, you were a failure, a disappointment, a burden to the whole team. Your tried to stand up from the pitch, but you were humbled by the fact that you had just played a whole 90 minutes of football and on top of that you’d been on the receiving end of a slide tackle that had managed to hurt your ankle, enough that you probably shou;dn’t have stayed on, but it was the World Cup, you would play with a broken leg if you had to. The adrenaline and endorphins had been enough of a pain killer, but now your body was cold and no longer riding on it’s high, everything hurt, from the hair on your head to the stabbing pain that was shooting up your leg from your ankle.

Your feet squelched in the grass as you limped across the pitch, making your way over to the team huddle that was congregating. Your boots long forgotten, laying somewhere on the pitch, they didn’t matter, nothing mattered any more. You let Georgia and Alessia wrap their arms around you in the huddle, you tried your hardest to listen to what Sarina was saying, but it was clear her words were falling on deaf ears, all of you girls as equally gutted as each other, you could hardly stand on your ankle, you could hardly think, let alone really take in the words of the Dutchwoman. You were supposed to win, supposed to be here to make your parents proud, to make everyone proud, and instead all you could feel was the overwhelming fear that you’d let them all down, that instead of making them all proud like you were supposed to, you’d failed them.

You were taken from the group to do the presentations, the silver medal around your neck just another reminder than you had lost, another reminder that you’d fallen short. Lucy and Keira tried to give you a hug, the same with a lot of your Barca teammates, but you weren’t in the headspace, you had to remind yourself to breathe every few seconds, you didn’t have the capacity to do much more than that.

Georgia lead you back to the changerooms, tears leaking from both of your eyes as the two of you made your way down the tunnel, the both of you just eager to be away from the cameras, away from everything. The change rooms were silent, the only sound to be heard was the very faint noise of the music coming from the Spanish rooms, the only sound that could be heard in the locker rooms was the sound of crying, coming from a series of people, sobs filling the air. You managed to limp your way to your cubby, pushing yourself into the space and folding into yourself, your whole body giving out, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, this wasn’t how this whole month was supposed to end. You’d given everything for this world cup, and yet it wasn’t enough, it was never going to be enough.

A few of the vets came over to comfort you, Millie, Rach, Lucy, Keira. All of their words though, meant nothing to you, you were a failure, as far as you were concerned you’d failed them and it was killing you.

You stayed in your cubby, unmoving, unmotivated to do much more than pray that a random black hole would appear and suck you up right now. It didn’t. Instead you stayed shivering, crying in a mixture of sadness and pain. You stayed that way, until a certain injured England captain sat down in front of you, her eyes soft and a few dried tear tracks on her face.

“Hey sweetheart.”

Her voice was so quiet, so soft, so gentle. You pursed your lips, you didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve her kindness.

“Leave me alone.”

Your voice was weak, and any of the aggression you were trying to direct towards the woman was lost in the insecurity you were feeling.

Leah leant down to your toes, her warm hands clutching onto your freezing toes and warming them up slightly.

“C’mon, the bus is about to leave, let’s get you back to the hotel.”

You shook your head blindly at Leah and she frowned, she knew it wasn’t going to be an easy job trying to get you out of here, Millie and Rach had warned her that you were gutted and that even their words hadn’t been able to get through to you.

Leah leant down, collecting the majority of your things from your locker and throwing them into your kit bag. Once she was done she looked back at you, acknowledging the fact that you had not moved a centimetre from where you had been before her ministrations.

She sat down as close as she could get to you, her hand falling to your bare knee cap and squeezing it.

“I know you don’t want to leave, but we have to, I’ll come on the bus with you if you want, and I’ll stay with you tonight, Georgia can room with Less and Tooney for tonight.”

You nodded at her quickly, you needed Leah tonight, you didn’t necessarily think you deserved her but you would take her offer up.

“C’mon then, let’s get you on the bus.”

Leah lifted her hand off of your knee, offering them to you as an assist to get you standing. You took them, allowing Leah to lift you from the bench and putting you on your feet. Your groaned almost immediately, the shooting pain across your ankle chilling you to your bones. Leah lifted you up by your armpits, slinging one of your arms around her shoulder to lift the pressure from your sore ankle. She stopped your sliders down on the floor, allowing you to step into them before beginning the walk out of the tunnel and towards the bus.

The bus was close to silent, all of your teammates piled in. There was a lot of crying, a lot of sleeping and a lot of wide eyed and quiet girls. You slid into a window seat, Leah following you and sitting beside you on the aisle. Her hand fell to your thigh, you didn’t say anything, didn’t look at her, just kept your eyes on the city as you drove through it on your way back to the hotel.

The mood was quite similar as the team made its way off the bus, all of you slumped over and slugging your way through the lobby up to your rooms. As soon as Leah closed the door behind you everything broke for you, everything you’d been feeling for the past few hours came crashing down on your like a freight train. Your ankle hurt. You were a failure and you didn’t deserve anything that Leah was trying to give you.

You’d let her help you out of your uniform, and even though she’d seen you naked thousands of times and studied you more intimately then anybody else, standing in front of her nude whilst she fished through your suitcase for clothes was so raw. It made you feel like she could feel and read all of your thoughts, it was a kind of vulnerable that you’d never been exposed to before. You shivered in front of Leah and if she took notice she didn’t vocalise, she was almost clinical in her job of redressing you, no stray eyes or hands, she gave herself a job and she achieved it fairly quickly.

Once she had finished you collapsed onto your bed, tugging for the shitty hotel duvet and pillow as your comfort. Leah slid onto the bed beside you, lying down on her side next to you, her hand coming up to rest on your face.

“I love you no matter what, I know this sucks, I know it’s rough but you played so well sweet and you couldn’t have done much more, it just wasn’t meant to be.”

Leah’s words stung, you weren’t used to losing and she knew it, especially not at this magnitude. You had never experienced losing a important game on a national level, you’d never experienced losing a grand final and you were still only 21.

“I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve for you to love me. I lost, we fucking lost, I could have tried harder, could have centred those shots, could have done better. I don’t deserve any of this, Sarina should fucking fire me, I was hopeless on the pitch.”

Leah’s face deflated, the accolades that you already had accomplished were insane, you were one of the best players in the world, and you were only 21. You were running with the big girls, and a lot of the time she forgot that, forgot that you were still only a kid.

“Y/n, you did the best you could, and you were exceptional on the field, you couldn’t have done anything else. Win or loss you are deserving of love, no matter what happens you are deserving of love. You are only 21 sweetheart, 21 and you have already won two champions league finals, a home Euro’s and a Ballon D’or, not to mention the golden boots and other awards you’ve accumulated. You are beyond what anything would have ever expected, you are exceptional and Sarina knows it, everyone on the team knows it. Without your goals and efforts this tournament the team wouldn’t have gotten as far as they did, you deserve to be loved for that and also for being you.”

You couldn’t help the tears that begun to steadily resume their flood down your face, Leah reached her hand up, wiping the tears and opening her arms to you.

You threw yourself into her arms, rejoicing in the warmth and support it provided. Leah was your captain, she was your bestfriend but she was also your girlfriend, something that you’d missed so much over this tournament. She was right, you were still only 21 and spending a month away from the woman, only seeing her after games or on days you had off. Sarina had told the team that she wanted no distractions, and you were never going to disobey her, but it had taken a part of your heart being away for Leah so long, normally you were glued to her side.

“Why do you love me when I failed, why do you still love me when I fucked up?”

Your words were spat out between sobs, sobs that were falling into Leahs shoulder, the space of her body you’d chose to find solace in.

“I love you no matter what sweet, I know that’s hard to believe, but no matter how much you fuck up on the pitch I will always love you, I will always be here for you, rain or shine you are my everything and that’s all that matters.”

Leah’s words were solid, she knew how much you needed her affirmations, that you brain was betraying every piece of self worth she’d tried to instill in you during your time together, when you’d gotten together you’d been a shell of a player, a kid with a whole lot of talent but absolutely zero confidence in herself. She’d tried her very hardest every single day to prove to you how worthy you were, and she’d had a lot of advancement with you,but there were bad days, bad moments, setbacks. This was one of those setbacks, one of the moments where the olderwomens heart broke for you, broke for the fact that your parents had been so hard on you from such a young age, that they’d made you feel like you only deserved to be loved when you were succeeding. It aggravated her, watching as you fought with yourself every single day to convince yourself that you were deserved, that you were worthy of being loved and cared for.

“We lost.”

You words were hardly words, mere broken syllables that Leah managed to piece together, it was significantly difficult considering all your words were muffled by her hoodie, but she managed.

“I know, I know and it sucks. We’ve got the nations league coming up though, there’s that. Or the Olympics next year, and the next World Cup and Euros. You have such a bright future my love, this is only the beginning.”

She heard the way you deflatedly exhaled into her hoodie, your body was well and truly spent, tired and overworked to the bone. Leah knew that, knew you’d been stringing yourself thin and she was so glad that she now had you in her arms, that she could look out for you now instead of observing how much longer you had left before you burnt yourself out, now that she had you though she wouldn’t let it happen, she would make sure that you were looking after yourself.

“Go to sleep honey, you’re tired, you need your rest with the early flight in the morning.”

She was right, in all of this you still had a 8am flight home. A flight that you’d hoped you’d still be on your high for, instead of being an all time low on.

“I love you Leah.”

Your words were murmured against her chest, your body finally relaxing against her own, making Leah happy that you were finally allowing yourself to be vulnerable with her.

“I love you too my sweet, my little superstar, so perfect just for me.”

She pressed her hand to your cheek, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your forehead and then a quick peck to your lips before angling your head back into her neck, your head finding comfort among the bony expanse.

“I’m sorry.”

Your words were murmured hotly against her neck, your breaths slowly evening out and becoming slower against her skin.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, you are perfection my girl and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if I have to.”

#woso #woso community #lionesses #leah williamson #leah williamson is mom #golden retriever leah vibes #leah williamson is boyf #leah williamson is mother #i love leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

697 notes · View notes